'This is the fun,Equalled by none;So never, never, never have done!'
'This is the fun,Equalled by none;So never, never, never have done!'
'This is the fun,
Equalled by none;
So never, never, never have done!'
cried the happy creature, and protruded such an exorbitant laugh as made ample amends for the gravity of his whole life.
At length Stuart took leave; and the rest of us separated to our several apartments.
That coxcomb, I see, has no notion of sentiment, and no taste for admiring those who have. There he sits, calm, unconcerned, and never once fixes his eyes on me with a speaking gaze. Oh, no; nothing but wit or wisdom for him. Not only is the fellow far from a pathetic turn himself, but he has also an odd faculty of detaching even me from my miseries, and of reducing me to horrid hilarity. It would vex a saint to see how he makes me laugh, though I am predetermined not to give him a single smile. But Montmorenci, the sentimental Montmorenci, timely interposes the fine melancholy of his features;—he looks, he sighs, he speaks; and in a moment I am recalled to the soft emotions, and a due sense of my deplorable destiny.
Adieu.
Clouds are impending, and I know not whether they will clash together, and elicit lightning, or mingle into one, and descend in refreshing showers.
This morning, Montmorenci, the hostess, and myself, breakfasted early, and then went shopping. I purchased a charming scarf, a bonnet, two dresses, a diamond cross, and a pair of pearl ear-rings. His lordship borrowed a guinea from me, and then bought a small casket, which he presented to me in the handsomest manner.
We next visited Westminster Abbey; the first that I have ever seen, though I had read of thousands. To my great disappointment, I found in it no cowled monks with scapulars, and no veiled nuns with rosaries. Nothing but statues of statesmen and warriors, in stone wigs and marble regimentals.
Soon after we had returned home, Higginson entered my room, stealing, and with a look of terror.
'My mother presents her respectful compliments,' said he in a whisper, 'and begs you will honour her with your presence, that she may do herself the pleasure of saving you from destruction.'
'Tell me,' said I, with a look that pierced into his soul, 'which character doyoumean to support on this occasion? that of my friend, or of an accomplice in the plot against me?'
Higginson looked aghast.
'As to your being a principal,' continued I, 'that is not likely; but I must ascertain if your object is to be—excuse me—an understrapping ruffian. Never fear, speak your mind candidly.'
'And I was writing verses on you all the morning, and it was for you that I clipped my eyebrows, and it was for you that I—dear me, dear me!' cried the poor man, and began whimpering like a child.
'Nay,' said I, 'if it is not your taste, that is another affair; but though I cannot countenance you as a villain, I will at least respect you as an honest man. I will, I assure you; so now lead me to your mother.'
We proceeded up stairs, and entered a garret; where his mother, a corpulent old lady, was lying in a fit of the gout.
Higginson having introduced us: 'Miss,' said she, 'I sent for you to tell you that I have just overheard your hostess, and an old gentleman (Betterton, I think she called him), planning something against you. They were in the next room, and thought I could not hear; but this I know, that he offered her fifty pounds, if she would assist him in obtaining you. And so, Miss, from all my son says of you, and sure enough he raves of you like mad, I thought you would wish to be saved from ruin.'
'Certainly, Madam,' answered I. 'At the same time, I must beg permission to remark, that you have destroyed half the interest of this intrigue against me, by forewarning me of it.'
'May be so, Miss,' said she. 'I have done my duty as a Christian, however.'
'Nay,' said I, 'do not suppose I resent your conduct, old lady. I am sure you meant all for the best, and I sincerely wish you health and happiness. Farewell.'
On returning to my room, I found Betterton there before me. He came to request that I would accept of a ticket for the masquerade, at the Pantheon: and he gave another to the landlady; who, he said, must accompany me thither: so 'tis clear that he means to decoy me from it. Unhappy girl! But how can I refuse going? A heroine, you know, never misses a masquerade: it is always the scene of her best adventure; and to say the truth, I cannot resist the temptation of so delightful an amusement. Now to consult about my character.
At dinner, yesterday, I bespoke his lordship as an escort to the masquerade; and we then held a council of dress. It was resolved, that I should appear in the character of Sterne's Maria, and his lordship as Corporal Trim.
This morning, just as I had finished reading the closet-scene, in the Children of the Abbey, Betterton and the landlady came into my room; and in a short time, I perceived the purport of their visit; as they began requesting that I would not take either Stuart or Montmorenci with me to the masquerade.
'The fact is, Miss,' said the landlady, 'that I have heard your real story. Mr. Grundy is not your cousin at all, and your name is Wilkinson, not Donald. Howsomever, as I believe you meant no harm, in this deception, I am willing, at the solicitations of this excellent gentleman, to let you remain in my house, provided you promise not to receive any more visits from that Stuart, who is the greatest villain unhanged; or from Mr. Grundy, who has certainly bad designs on you; though he made proposals of marriage to myself, no longer ago than yesterday.'
A tapping at my door prevented me from expressing my total disbelief in her latter assertion. It struck me that should the person prove to be his lordship, I might make her look extremely foolish, by letting her overhear his declarations of attachment to me. 'Conceal yourselves in this closet,' whispered I to my visitors. 'I have particular reasons.' They looked at each other, and hesitated.
'In, in!' said I; 'for I suspect that this visit is from a villain, and I wish you to hear what passes.'
Both then went into the closet. I opened the door of my chamber, and, to my great disappointment, the poet appeared at it, with his eyes rolling, and his mouth ajar.
'What is the matter?' asked I.
He gaped still wider, but said nothing.
'Ah,' cried I, 'that is an awkward attempt at expressing horror. If you have any hideous news to communicate, why do you not rush into the room, tossing your hands on high, and exclaiming, "Fly, fair lady, all is lost!"'
'Indeed, Miss,' said he, 'I was never in the way of learning good breeding. But don't go to the masquerade, Miss, Oh, don't! My mother overheard old Betterton just now planning with the landlady, to carry you from it by force. But, Miss, I have a fine sword, above stairs, three feet and a half long, and I will rub off the rust, and——'
A knock at the street-door interrupted him. I was in a hiding mood. Already the scene promised wonders; and I resolved not to damp its rising spirit; so made the simple Higginson get underneath the sofa.
The next moment my door opened, and Vixen, Montmorenci's terrier, came bounding towards me.
'Go, dear Vixen,' cried I, snatching her to my bosom; 'carry back to your master all that nourishes his remembrance. Go, dear Vixen, guard him by night, and accompany him by day, serve him with zeal, and love him with fidelity!'
I turned round, and perceived—Montmorenci! The poor timid girl bent her eyes to the ground.
'Yes, dear Vixen,' said he, 'you have now indeed a claim to my regard; and with the fondest gratitude will I cherish you!'
He then flew to me, and poured forth, at my feet, the most passionate acknowledgments, and tender protestations.
I tried to break from him.
'No, loveliest Cherubina!' said he, detaining me. 'Not thus must we part.'
'We must part for ever!' exclaimed I. 'After that rash soliloquy which you have just heard, never can I bear you in my sight. Besides, Sir, you are betrothed, at this moment, to another.'
'I? Ridiculous! But to whom?'
'Our hostess—a most charming woman.'
'Our hostess! Yes, a charming woman indeed. She has roses in her cheek, and lilies in her skin; but they are white roses, and orange lilies. Our hostess! Beshrew my heart, I would let cobwebs grow on my lips before I would kiss her.'
Another knock came to the door.
'Me miserable!' exclaimed I. 'If this be the person I suspect, we are both undone—separated for ever!'
'Who? what? where shall I hide?' cried his lordship.
'Yon dark closet,' said I, pointing. 'Fly.'
His lordship sprang into the closet, and closed the door.
'I can hear no tidings of your father,' said Stuart, entering the room. 'I have searched every hotel in Town, and I really fear that some accident——'
'Mercy upon me! who's here?' cried his lordship from the closet. 'As I hope to be saved, the place is full of people. Let me go; whoever the devil you are, let me go!'
'Take that—and that—and that:—you poor, pitiful, fortune-hunting play-actor!' vociferated the landlady, buffetting him about.
That unhappy young nobleman bolted from the closet, with his face running blood, and the landlady fast at his heels.
'Yes, you dog!' exclaimed she; 'I have discovered your treacherousness at last. As for your love-letters and trinkets, to me, villain—I never valued 'em a pin's point; but that you should go for to try to ruin this sweet innocent young creature, that is what distresses me, so it is.' And she burst out crying.
'Love-letters and trinkets to you!' exclaimed I. 'Surely he was not so base, Madam.'
'But he was so base, Madam,' said she with a bitter look; 'and if you fancy that 'tis yourself he loves, why look there; read the letter he sent me yesterday, just after I had asked him to pay me for six months' diet and lodging.'
I read:
'Accept, my lovely hostess, the pair of bracelets which accompanies this note, and rest assured that I will discharge my bill, in the course of another month.'My motive for having brought Miss Wilkinson into your house, as my cousin, was simply to restore her to her friends. Your jealousy, though most unfounded, is most flattering.'Ah, how little do you know your Grundy!—If I pay the silly girl a few slight attentions, it is only to cloak that tenderness for you, which preys upon my heart, and consumes my vitals;—that tenderness, which I yesterday so solemnly vowed to evince (as soon as my affairs are arranged) at the altar.'Your own, own, own,'Abraham Grundy.'
'Accept, my lovely hostess, the pair of bracelets which accompanies this note, and rest assured that I will discharge my bill, in the course of another month.
'My motive for having brought Miss Wilkinson into your house, as my cousin, was simply to restore her to her friends. Your jealousy, though most unfounded, is most flattering.
'Ah, how little do you know your Grundy!—If I pay the silly girl a few slight attentions, it is only to cloak that tenderness for you, which preys upon my heart, and consumes my vitals;—that tenderness, which I yesterday so solemnly vowed to evince (as soon as my affairs are arranged) at the altar.
'Your own, own, own,
'Abraham Grundy.'
It was as much as my dignity could do to suppress my indignation at this letter; but the heroine prevailed, and I cast on his lordship my famous compound expression of pity, contempt, and surprise, which I tinged with just fascination enough to remind him of what a jewel he had lost.
Meantime he stood wiping his face, and did not utter a word.
'And now,' cried I, 'now for the grand developement. James Higginson, come forth!'
In a moment the poet was seen, creeping, like a huge tortoise, from under the sofa.
'Mr. Higginson,' said I, 'did not your mother tell you, that this lady here—this amiable lady,' (and I curtsied low to her, and she curtsied still lower to me), 'that this first and best of women,' (and again we exchanged rival curtsies), 'is plotting with a Mr. Betterton to betray me into his hands at the masquerade?'
'Madam,' answered the poet, with a firm demeanour, 'I do solemnly certify and asseverate, that so my mother told me.'
'Then your mother told a confounded falsehood!' cried Betterton, popping out of the closet.
Higginson walked up to him, and knocked him down with the greatest gravity imaginable. The hostess ran at Higginson, and fastened her fangs in his face. Montmorenci laid hold of the hostess, and off came her cap. Stuart dropped into a chair with laughter. I too forgot all my dignity, and clapped my hands, and danced with delight, while they kicked and scratched each other without mercy.
At length Stuart interfered, and separated the combatants. The landlady retired to repair her dismantled head; and his lordship and Higginson to wash their wounds. Betterton too was about to take his departure.
'Sir,' said Stuart, 'I must beg leave to detain you for a few moments.'
Betterton bowed and returned.
'Your name is Betterton, I believe.'
'It is, Sir.'
'After Mr. Higginson's accusation of you,' said Stuart, 'I feel myself called upon, as the friend of this lady's father, to insist on your apologizing for the designs which you have dared to harbour against her; and to demand an unequivocal renunciation of those views for the future.'
'You are an honest fellow,' said Betterton, 'and I respect your spirit. Most sincerely, most humbly, Miss Wilkinson, do I solicit your forgiveness; and I beg you will believe, that nothing but a misrepresentation of your real character and history tempted me to treat you with such undeserved insult. I now declare, that you have nothing further to fear from me.'
'But before I can feel perfectly satisfied,' said Stuart, 'I must stipulate for the discontinuance of your visits to Miss Wilkinson, as a proof that you have relinquished all improper projects against her.'
'I had formed that resolution before you spoke,' answered Betterton, 'though many a bitter pang it will cost me. Now then we are all friends. I may have my faults, but upon my soul, I am a man of honour;—I am, upon my soul. As for you, Mr. Stuart, without flattery, you have evinced more discretion and coolness, throughout this affair, than I have ever seen in so young a man. Sir, you are an honour to the human race, and I wish you would dine with me this evening at the Crown and Anchor. Some friends of us meet there to discuss a radical reform. Do, my dear fellow. We want nothing but men of respectability like you; for our sentiments "are the finest in the world."'
'You will excuse me,' said Stuart, 'though I am told that your wines are as fine and as foreign as your sentiments.'
'Well, adieu, good people,' said Betterton. 'Think of me with kindness. Faults I may have, but my heart——' (tapping at it with his forefinger), 'all is right here.'
After he had left us, I reprimanded Stuart so severely, for his officiousness in having interfered about Betterton, that he went away quite offended; and, I much fear, will never return. If he does not, he will use me basely, to leave me here in this unprotected state, after all his anxieties about me—anxieties too, which (I cannot tell why) have pleased me beyond expression. I confess, I feel a regard for the man, and should be sorry to have hurt his feelings seriously. Would Sir Charles Bingley have deserted me so, I ask? No. But Stuart has no notion of being a plain, useful, unsuccessful lover, like him. Well, I must say, I hate to see a man more ready to fall out with one, than to fall in love with one.
But Montmorenci—what shall I say of him? How can he possibly exculpate himself from his treacherous intrigue with the landlady? I confess I am predisposed to credit any feasible excuse which he can assign, rather than find myself deceived, outrivalled, and deprived of a lover, not alone dear to me, but indispensible to the progress of my memoirs.
Then, that closet-scene, from which I had a right to expect the true pathetic, what a bear-garden it became! In short, I feel at this moment disgusted with the world. I half wish I were at home again. Now too, that Stuart has reminded me of our early days, I cannot avoid sometimes picturing to myself the familiar fireside, the walks, frolics, occupations of our childhood; and well I remember how he used to humour my whims. Oh, these times are past, and now he opposes me in every thing.
But whither am I wandering? Pardon these vulgar sentiments. They have escaped my pen. You know that a mere home is my horror. Forgive them.
Adieu.
Determined to support my dignity, I dined alone in my room, after the closet-scene; and during this evening, letters of the most heart-rending nature passed between his lordship and me.
To be brief, he has convinced me, that the letter written in his name, to the landlady, was aforgeryof her own. The circumventing wretch! I am of opinion, that it ought to be made a hanging matter.
The following is an extract from his and my correspondence. After a most satisfactory disquisition on the various circumstances tending to prove the forgery, he writes thus:
'I have begun twenty letters to you, and have torn them all. I write to you on my knees, and the paper is blistered with my tears; but I have dried it with my sighs.'Sun, moon, and stars may rise and set as they will. I know not whether it be day, or whether it be night.'When the girl came with your last note, the idea that your eyes had just been dwelling on her features, on her cap, ribbon, and apron, made her and them so interesting, so dear to me, that, though her features are snubbed, her cap tattered, her ribbon bottle-green (which I hate), and her apron dirty, I should certainly have taken her in my arms, if I had not been the most bashful of men.'Though that note stung me to the heart, the words were hosts of angels to me, and the small paper the interminable regions of bliss. Any thing from you!'How my heart beats, and my blood boils in my veins, when by chance our feet meet under the table. The diapason of my heart-strings vibrates to the touch. How often I call to mind the sweet reproof you once gave me at dinner, when I trod on your toe in a transport of passion.'"If you love me, tell me so," said you, smiling; "but do not hurt my foot."'Another little incident is always recurring to me. As we parted from each other, the night before last, you held out your hand and said, "Good-night, my dear Montmorenci." It was the first time you had ever called medear. The sound sank deep into my heart. I have repeated it a hundred times since, and when I went to bed, I said, good night, my dear Montmorenci. I recollected myself and laughed. The fatal kiss that I once dared to snatch from you has undone me for ever. The moisture on your lip was like a suppuration of rubies. O immortal remembrance of that illusive, frantic, and enchanting moment!'BILLET FROM CHERUBINA.He who could be capable of the letter, could be capable of calling it a forgery.BILLET FROM MONTMORENCI.Misery with you, were better than happiness without you.BILLET FROM CHERUBINA.Hatred and certainty were better than love and suspicion.BILLET FROM MONTMORENCI.Love is heaven and heaven is love.BILLET FROM CHERUBINA.If heaven be love, I fear that heaven is not eternal.BILLET FROM MONTMORENCI.If my mind be kept in suspense, my body shall be suspended too.BILLET FROM CHERUBINA.Foolish youth! If my life be dear to thee, attempt not thine own.BILLET FROM MONTMORENCI.It were easier to kill myself than to fly from Cherubina.BILLET FROM CHERUBINA.Live.I restore you to favour.BILLET FROM MONTMORENCI.Angelic girl! But how can I live without the means? My landlady threatens me with an arrest. Heloise lent money to St. Preux.BILLET FROM CHERUBINA.In enclosing to you half of all I have, I feel, alas! that I am but half as liberal of my purse as of my heart.BILLET FROM MONTMORENCI.I promise to pay Lady Cherubina de Willoughby, or order, on demand, the sum of twenty-five pounds sterling, value received.Montmorenci.
'I have begun twenty letters to you, and have torn them all. I write to you on my knees, and the paper is blistered with my tears; but I have dried it with my sighs.
'Sun, moon, and stars may rise and set as they will. I know not whether it be day, or whether it be night.
'When the girl came with your last note, the idea that your eyes had just been dwelling on her features, on her cap, ribbon, and apron, made her and them so interesting, so dear to me, that, though her features are snubbed, her cap tattered, her ribbon bottle-green (which I hate), and her apron dirty, I should certainly have taken her in my arms, if I had not been the most bashful of men.
'Though that note stung me to the heart, the words were hosts of angels to me, and the small paper the interminable regions of bliss. Any thing from you!
'How my heart beats, and my blood boils in my veins, when by chance our feet meet under the table. The diapason of my heart-strings vibrates to the touch. How often I call to mind the sweet reproof you once gave me at dinner, when I trod on your toe in a transport of passion.
'"If you love me, tell me so," said you, smiling; "but do not hurt my foot."
'Another little incident is always recurring to me. As we parted from each other, the night before last, you held out your hand and said, "Good-night, my dear Montmorenci." It was the first time you had ever called medear. The sound sank deep into my heart. I have repeated it a hundred times since, and when I went to bed, I said, good night, my dear Montmorenci. I recollected myself and laughed. The fatal kiss that I once dared to snatch from you has undone me for ever. The moisture on your lip was like a suppuration of rubies. O immortal remembrance of that illusive, frantic, and enchanting moment!'
BILLET FROM CHERUBINA.
He who could be capable of the letter, could be capable of calling it a forgery.
BILLET FROM MONTMORENCI.
Misery with you, were better than happiness without you.
BILLET FROM CHERUBINA.
Hatred and certainty were better than love and suspicion.
BILLET FROM MONTMORENCI.
Love is heaven and heaven is love.
BILLET FROM CHERUBINA.
If heaven be love, I fear that heaven is not eternal.
BILLET FROM MONTMORENCI.
If my mind be kept in suspense, my body shall be suspended too.
BILLET FROM CHERUBINA.
Foolish youth! If my life be dear to thee, attempt not thine own.
BILLET FROM MONTMORENCI.
It were easier to kill myself than to fly from Cherubina.
BILLET FROM CHERUBINA.
Live.I restore you to favour.
BILLET FROM MONTMORENCI.
Angelic girl! But how can I live without the means? My landlady threatens me with an arrest. Heloise lent money to St. Preux.
BILLET FROM CHERUBINA.
In enclosing to you half of all I have, I feel, alas! that I am but half as liberal of my purse as of my heart.
BILLET FROM MONTMORENCI.
I promise to pay Lady Cherubina de Willoughby, or order, on demand, the sum of twenty-five pounds sterling, value received.
Montmorenci.
In a few minutes after I had received this last billet, his lordship came in person to perfect the reconciliation. Never was so tender, so excruciating a scene.
We then consulted about the masquerade; and he brought me down his dress for it. The Montero cap and tarnished regimentals (which he procured at the theatre) are admirable.
Soon after his departure, a letter was brought to me by the maid; who said, that a tall man, wrapped in a dark cloak, put it into her hand, and then fled with great swiftness.
Conceive my sensations on reading this note, written in an antiquated hand.
To Lady Cherubina de Willoughby.These, greeting.Most fayre LadieAn aunciente and loyall Vassall that erewhyles appertained unto yreryhgte noble Auncestrie, in yequalitie of Seneschal, hath, by chaunce, discovred yerplace of hiding, and doth crave yeboon that you will not fayle to goe unto yeMasquerade at yePantheon; where, anon he will joyn you, and unravell divers mysterys touching your pedigree.Lette nonne disswaid you from to goe, and eke lette nonne, save a Matron, goe with you; els I dare not holde parle with you.Myne honoured Ladie, if you heede not this counsell, you will work yourselfe woefull ruth.
To Lady Cherubina de Willoughby.
These, greeting.
Most fayre Ladie
An aunciente and loyall Vassall that erewhyles appertained unto yreryhgte noble Auncestrie, in yequalitie of Seneschal, hath, by chaunce, discovred yerplace of hiding, and doth crave yeboon that you will not fayle to goe unto yeMasquerade at yePantheon; where, anon he will joyn you, and unravell divers mysterys touching your pedigree.
Lette nonne disswaid you from to goe, and eke lette nonne, save a Matron, goe with you; els I dare not holde parle with you.
Myne honoured Ladie, if you heede not this counsell, you will work yourselfe woefull ruth.
Judge if I can sleep a wink after such a mysterious communication. Excellent old man! I mean to make him my steward.
Adieu.
I believe I mentioned, in a former letter, that my bed-chamber was on the ground floor, and looking into the yard at the back of the house. Soon after I went to bed, last night, I heard a whispering and rustling outside of the window, and while I was awaiting with anxiety the result, sleep surprised me.
I awoke earlier, as I thought, than usual, this morning; for not a ray penetrated my curtainless window. I then tried to compose myself to sleep again, but in vain; so there I lay turning and tumbling about, for eight or nine hours, at the very least. At last I became alarmed. What can be the matter? thought I. Is the sun quenched or eclipsed? or has the globe ceased rolling? or am I struck stone blind?
In the midst of my conjectures, a sudden cry of fire! fire! reverberated through the house. I sprang out of bed, and huddled on me whatever cloaths came to hand. I then groped for my casket of jewels, and having secured it, rushed into the outer room, where my eyes were instantly dazzled by the sudden glare of light.
However, I had presence of mind enough to snatch up Corporal Trim's coat, which still remained on a chair; and to slip it on me. For, in the first place, I had no gown underneath; and in the next, I recollected, that Harriot Byron, at a moment of distress, went wild about the country, in masquerade.
Hurrying into the hall, I saw the street door wide open, Stuart and Montmorenci struggling with each other near it, the landlady dragging a trunk down stairs, and looking like the ghost of a mad housemaid; and the poet just behind her, with his corpulent mother, bed and all, upon his back; while she kept exclaiming, that we should all be in heaven in five minutes, and he crying out, Heaven forbid! Heaven forbid!
I darted past Stuart, just as he had got Montmorenci down; thence out of the house, and had fled twenty paces, before I discovered, that, so far from being night, it was broad, bright, incontrovertible day!
I had no time to reflect on this mystery, as I heard steps pursuing me, and my name called. I fled the faster, for I dreaded I knew not what. The portentous darkness of my room, the false alarm of fire, all betokened some diabolical conspiracy against my life; so I rushed along the street, to the horror and astonishment of all who saw me. For conceive me drest in a long-skirted, red coat, stiff with tarnished lace; a satin petticoat, satin shoes, no stockings, and my flaxen hair streaming like a meteor behind me!
Stop her, stop her! was now shouted on all sides. Hundreds seemed in pursuit. Panting and almost exhausted, I still continued my flight. They gained on me. What should I do? I saw the door of a carriage just opened, and two ladies, dressed for dinner, stepping into it. I sprang in after them, crying, save me, save me! The footman endeavoured to drag me out; the mob gathered round shouting; the horses took fright, and set off in full gallop; I, meantime, on one knee, with my meek eyes raised, and my hands folded across my bosom, awaited my fate; while the ladies gazed on me in dismay, and supported one unbroken scream.
At last, the carriage dashed against a post, and was upset. Several persons ran forward, and, I being uppermost, took me out the first. Again I began running, and again a mob was at my heels. I felt certain they would tear me in pieces. My head became bewildered; and all the horrid sights I had ever read of rose in array before me. Bacchantes, animated with Orphean fury, slinging their serpents in the air, and uttering dithyrambics, appeared to surround me on every side. On I flew. Knock it down! cried several voices.
A footman was just entering a house. I rushed past him, and into a parlour, where a large party were sitting at dinner.
Save me! exclaimed I, and sank on my knees before them. All arose:—some, in springing to seize me, fell; and others began dragging me away. I grasped the table-cloth, in my confusion, and the next instant, the whole dinner was strewn about the floor. Those who had fallen down, rose in piteous plight; one bathed in soup, another crowned with vegetables, and the face of a third all over harico.
They held me fast, and questioned me; then called me mad, and turned me into the street. The mob were still waiting for me there, and they cheered me as I came out; so seeing a shop at hand, I darted through it, and ran up stairs, into the drawing-room.
There I found a mother in the cruel act of whipping her child. Ever a victim to thrilling sensibility, I snatched the rod from her hand; she shrieked and alarmed the house; and again I was turned out of doors. Again, my friend the mob received me with a shout; again I took to flight; rushed through another shop, was turned out—through another, was turned out. In short, I threaded a dozen different houses, and witnessed a dozen different domestic scenes. In this, they were singing, in that scolding:—here, I caught an old man kissing the maid, there, I found a young man reading the Bible. Entering another, I heard ladies laughing and dancing in the drawing-room. I hurried past them to the garrets, and saw their aged servant dying.
Shocked by the sight, I paused at his half-opened door. Not a soul was in the room with him; and vials and basons strewed the table.
'Is that my daughter?' said he feebly. 'Will no one go for my daughter? To desert me thus, after first breaking my heart! Well then, I will find her out myself.'
He made a sudden effort to rise, but it was fatal. His head and arms dropped down motionless, and hung out of the bed. He gave a hollow sob, and expired.
Horrorstruck, I rushed into an adjoining garret, and burst into tears. I felt guilty of I knew not what; and the picture of Wilkinson, dying in the madhouse, and calling on his daughter, shot across me for a moment.
The noise of people searching the rooms below, and ascending the stairs, put an end to my disagreeable reflections; and I thought but of escape. Running to the window of the garret, I found that it opened upon the roof of a neighbouring house; and recollecting that robbers often escape by similar means, I sprang out of the window, closed it after me, and ran along a whole row of roofs.
At last I came to a house higher than the rest, with a small window, similar to that by which I had just got out, and happily lying open. On looking into the garret, I found that nobody was there, so I scrambled into it, and fastened the window after me. A servant's bed, a chair, a table, and an immense chest, constituted all the furniture. The chest had nothing but a little linen in it; and I determined to make it my place of refuge, in case of an alarm.
Having sat a few minutes, to compose my spirits, after the shock they had just experienced, I resolved on exploring the several apartments; for I felt a secret presentiment that this house was, some way or other, connected with my fate—a most natural idea.
I first traversed the garrets, but found nothing in them worthy of horror; so I stole, with cautious steps, down the first flight of stairs, and found the door of the front room open. Hearing no noise inside, I ventured to put in my head, and perceived a large table, with lighted candles on it, and covered over with half-finished dresses of various descriptions, besides bonnets, feathers, caps, and ribbons in profusion; whence I concluded that the people of the house were milliners.
Here I sat some time, admiring the dresses, and trying at a mirror how the caps became me, till I was interrupted by steps on the stairs. I ran behind a window-curtain; and immediately three young milliners came into the room.
They sat down at the table, and began working.
'I wonder,' said one, 'whether our lodger has returned from dinner.'
'What a sly eye the fellow casts at me,' says another.
'And how he smiles at me,' says the first.
'And how he teases me about my being pretty,' says the second.
'And me too,' says the first; 'and he presses my hand into the bargain.'
'Presses!' says the second; 'why, hesqueezesmine; and just think, he tries to kiss me too.'
'I know,' says the third, who was the only pretty girl of the three, 'that he never lays a finger on me, nor speaks a word to me, good or bad—never: and yesterday he lent me the Mysteries of Udolpho with a very bad grace; and when I told him that I wanted it to copy the description of the Tuscan girl's dress, as a lady had ordered me to make up a dress like it, for the masquerade to-night, he handed me the book, and said, that if I went there myself, the people would take my face for a mask.'
Judge of my horror, when I recollected, that this was, indeed, the night of the masquerade; and that I was pent behind a curtain, without even a dress for it!
That Tuscan costume, thought I, would just answer. Perhaps I could purchase it from the milliner. Perhaps—— But in the midst of my perhaps's, the first and second milliner set off with some Indian robes, which they had finished for the masquerade, while the pretty one still remained to complete the Tuscan dress.
While I was just resolving to issue from my retreat, and persuade her to sell me the dress, I heard a step stealing up the stairs; and presently perceived a young gentleman peeping into the room. He nodded familiarly to the milliner; and said, in a whisper, that he had seen her companions depart, and was now come to know how soon she would go, that he might meet her at their old corner. She replied, that she would soon be ready; and he then stole back again.
I had now no time to lose in accomplishing my plan, so I drew aside the curtain, and stood, in a commanding attitude before her.
The poor girl looked up, started, made a miserable imitation of the heroic scream, and ran down stairs.
I ran after her, as far as the landing-place; and on looking over the balusters, into the hall, I saw the young man who had just been with her, listening to her account of the transaction. 'I will call the watch,' said she, 'and do you keep guard at the door.'
She then hastened into the street, and he stood in such a manner, that it was impossible for me to pass him.
'What is the matter?' cried the mistress of the house, coming out of the parlour.
'A mad woman that is above stairs,' answered the young man. 'Miss Jane has just seen her; dressed half like a man, half like a woman, and with hair down to the ground!'
'What is all this?' cried a maid, running out of the kitchen.
'Oh! Molly,' said the mistress, 'Miss Jane is just frightened to death by a monster above stairs, half man, half woman, and all over covered with hair!'
Another servant now made her appearance.
'Oh! Betty,' cried Molly, 'Miss Jane is just killed by a huge monster above stairs, half man, half beast, all over covered with black hair, and I don't know what other devilments besides!'
'I will run and drive it down,' cried Betty, and began ascending the stairs. Whither could I hide? I luckily recollected the large chest; so I flew up to the garret. It was now quite dark; but I found the chest, sprang into it, and having closed the lid, flung some of the linen over me. I then heard the girl enter the next room, and in a few moments, she came into mine, with another person.
'Here is the trunk, Tom,' said she, 'and I must lock it on you till the search is over. You see, Tom, what risks I am running on your account; for there is Miss Jane, killed by it, and lying in bits, all about the floor.'
The man had now jumped into the chest; the girl locked it in an instant, took out the key, and ran down.
Almost prest to death, I made a sudden effort to get from under him.
'What's this! Oh! mercy, what's this?' cried he, feeling about.
I gathered myself up; but did not speak.
'Help!' vociferated he. ''Tis the monster—here is the hair! help, help!'
'Hush!' said I, 'or you will betray both of us. I am no monster, but a woman.'
'Wasn't? it you that murdered the milliner?' said he, still trembling.
'No, really,' replied I, 'but now not a word; for I hear people coming.'
As I spoke, several persons entered the room. We lay still. They searched about; and one of them, approaching the chest, tried to lift the lid.
'That is locked this month past,' said the voice of the maid who had hidden the man in it, 'so you need not look there.'
They then searched the remaining garrets; and I heard them say, as they were going down stairs, that I must have jumped out of a window.
'And now, Madam,' said the man, 'will you have the goodness to tell me who you are?'
'A young and innocent maiden,' answered I, 'who, flying from my persecutors, took refuge here.'
'Young and innocent!' cried he, 'good ingredients, faith. Come then, my dear; I will protect you.'
So saying, he caught me round the waist, and attempted to kiss me.
I begged, reasoned, menaced—all would not do. I had read of a heroine, whose virtue was saved by a timely brain-fever; so, as I could not command one at that instant, I determined on affecting one.
'I murdered her famously!' exclaimed I; and then commenced singing and moaning by turns.
He stopped, and lay quiet, as if uncertain what to make of me. I scratched the chest with my nails, and laughed, and shrieked. He began to mutter curses and prayers with great rapidity; till, as I was gabbling over the finest passage in Ossian, 'Oh! merciful!' ejaculated he, rolling himself into a ball; ''tis a Bedlamite broke loose!'
By this time, between my terror, and the heat of the chest, I was gasping for breath; and my companion appeared on the very point of suffocation; when, at this critical juncture, some one fortunately came into the room. The man called for help, the chest was unlocked, opened; and the maid with a candle appeared before us.
The man darted out like an arrow; she remained motionless with astonishment at seeing me, while I lay there, almost exhausted; though, as usual, not worth a swoon. I do believe, that the five fingers I am writing with would leave me, sooner than my five senses.
'She has confessed to the murder!' cried the man; while the maid held by his arm, and shrunk back, as I rose from the chest with an air of dignity.
'Be not frightened, my friends,' said I smiling, 'for I assure you that I am no murderess; and that the milliner is alive and well, at this moment. Is she not, young woman?'
'Yes, sure,' answered she, somewhat recovering from her terror.
'How I came into this extraordinary situation,' continued I, 'it were needless to relate; but I must have your assistance to get out of it. If you, my good girl, will supply me with a decent gown, bonnet, and pair of stockings, I will promise not to tell the family that you had a lover secreted in the house, and I will give you two guineas for your kindness.'
So saying, I took the casket from the pocket of my regimental coat, and displayed the jewels and money that were in it.
'Mercy me!' cried the maid; 'how could they dare for to say that so rich a lady murdered the girl?'
'Ay, or so handsome a lady,' added the man, bowing.
In a word, after some explanations and compliments, I gave the maid four guineas, and the man the regimental coat; and was supplied with a gown, bonnet, and pair of stockings.
As soon as I had dressed myself, we determined that I should steal down stairs, and out of the house; and that, if discovered in my passage, I should not betray the maid.
Accordingly, with much trepidation, I began to descend the stairs. Not a soul seemed stirring. But as I passed by the milliner's room, I perceived the door half open, and heard some one humming a tune inside. I peeped through the chink, and saw the pretty milliner again seated there, and still busied about the Tuscan dress. I resolved to make another effort for it; and as I had gained my point with the maid, by having discovered her intrigue, it struck me that I might succeed with the milliner in a similar manner.
I therefore glided into the room, and seated myself just opposite to her.
'Your business, Ma'am?' said she, looking surprised.
'To purchase that dress,' answered I.
''Tis already purchased,' said she.
'Do you remember the mad woman with the long hair?' said I, as I took off my bonnet, and let down my tresses, with all the grandeur of virtue victorious over vice.
She started and turned pale.
'You are the very person, I believe,' faltered she. 'What upon earth shall I do?'
'Do?' cried I. 'Why, sell me the Tuscan dress of course. The fact is—but let it go no farther—I am a heroine; I am, I give you my word and honour. So, you know, the lady being wronged of the dress, (inasmuch as she is but an individual), is as nothing compared with the wrong that the community will sustain, if they lose the pleasure of finding that I get it from you. Sure the whole scene, since I came to this house, was contrived for the express purpose of my procuring that individual costume; and just conceive what pretty confusion must take place, if, after all, you prevent me! My dear girl, we must do poetical justice. We must not disappoint the reader.
'You will tell me, perhaps, that selling the dress is improper? Granted. But, recollect, what improper things are constantly done, in novels, to bring about a pre-determined event. Your amour with the gentleman, for instance; which I shall certainly tell your employer, if you refuse to sell me the dress.
'As you value your own peace of mind, therefore, and in the name of all that is just, generous, and honourable, I conjure you to reflect for a moment, and you must see the matter in its rational light. What can you answer to these arguments?'
'That the person who could use them,' said she, 'will never listen to reason. I see what is the matter with you, and that I have no resource but to humour you, or be ruined.' And she began crying.
To conclude, after a little farther persuasion, I got the dress, gave her ten guineas, and, tripping down stairs, effected a safe escape out of the house.
I then called a coach, and drove to Jerry Sullivan's; for I would not return to my lodgings, lest the conspirators there should prevent me from going to the masquerade.
The poor fellow jumped with joy when he saw me; but I found him in great distress. His creditors had threatened his little shop with immediate ruin, unless he would discharge his debts. He had now provided the whole sum due, except forty pounds; but this he could not procure, and the creditors were expected every minute.
'I have only twelve guineas in the world,' said I, opening my casket, 'but they are at your service.' And I put them into his hand.
'Dear Lady!' cried the wife, 'what a mortal sight of jewels you have got! Do you know, now, I could borrow thirty pounds at least on them, at the pawnbroker's; and that sum would just answer.'
'Nay,' said I, 'I cannot consent to part with them; though, had I thirty pounds, I would sooner give it to you, than buy jewels with it.'
'Sure then,' cried she, 'by the same rule, you would sooner sell your jewels, than let me want thirty pounds.'
'Not at all,' answered I, 'for I am fond of my jewels, and I do not care about money. Besides, have I not already given you twelve guineas?'
'You have,' answered she, 'and that is what vexes me. If you had given me nothing at all, I would not have minded, because you were a stranger. But first to make yourself our friend, by giving us twelve guineas, and then to refuse us the remainder—'tis so unnatural!'
'Ungrateful woman!' cried I. 'Had I ten thousand pounds, you should not touch a farthing of it.'
The arrival of the creditors interrupted us, and a touching scene ensued. The wife and daughter flung themselves on their knees, and wrung their hands, and begged for mercy; but the wretches were inexorable.
How could I remain unmoved? In short, I slipped the casket into the wife's hand; out she ran with it, and in a few minutes returned with forty pounds. The creditors received the money due, passed receipts, and departed, and Jerry returned me the twelve guineas, saying: 'Bless your sweet face, for 'tis that is the finger-post to heaven, though, to be sure, I can't look strait in it, after all you have done for me. Och! 'tis a murder to be under an obligation: so if just a little bit of mischief would happen you, and I to relieve you, as you did me, why that would make meaisy.'
I am writing to you, from his house, while his daughter is finishing the sleeve of my Tuscan dress; and in a short time I shall be ready for the masquerade.
I confess I am not at all reconciled to the means I used in obtaining that dress. I took advantage of the milliner's indiscretion in one instance, to make her do wrong in another. But doubtless my biographer will find excuses for me, which I cannot discover myself. Besides, the code of moral law that heroines acknowledge is often quite opposite from those maxims which govern other conditions of life. And, indeed, if we view the various ranks and departments of society, we shall see, that what is considered vicious in some of them, is not esteemed so in others. Thus: it is deemed dishonest in a servant to cheat his master of his wines, but it is thought perfectly fair for his master to defraud the King of the revenue from those wines. In the same way, what is called wantonness in a little minx with a flat face, is called only susceptibility in a heroine with an oval one. We weep at the letters of Heloise; but were they written by an alderman's fat wife, we should laugh at them. The heroine may permit an amorous arm round her waist, fly in the face of her parents, and make assignations in dark groves, yet still be described as the most prudent of human creatures; but the mere Miss has no business to attempt any mode of conduct beyond modesty, decorum, and filial obedience. In a word, as different classes have distinct privileges, it appears to me, from what I have read of the law national, and the law romantic, that the heroine's prerogative is similar to the King's, and that she, like him, can do no wrong.
Adieu.
O Biddy, I have ascertained my genealogy. I am—but I must not anticipate. Take the particulars.
Having secured a comfortable bed at Jerry's, and eaten something (for I had fasted all day), I went with him in a coach to the Pantheon, where he promised to remain, and escort me back.
But I must first describe my Tuscan dress. It was a short petticoat of pale green, with a bodice of white silk; the sleeves loose, and tied up at the shoulders with ribbons and bunches of flowers. My hair, which fell in ringlets on my neck, was also ornamented with flowers and a straw hat. I wore no mask, heroines so seldom do.
Palpitating with expectation, I entered the assembly. Such a multitude of grotesque groups as presented themselves! Clowns, harlequins, nuns, devils; all talking and none listening. The clowns happy to be called fools, the harlequins as awkward as clowns, the nuns impudent, and the devils well-conducted. But as there is a description of a masquerade in almost every novel, you will excuse me from entering into farther particulars.
Too much agitated to support my character with spirit, I retired to a recess, and there anxiously awaited the arrival of the ancient vassal.
Hardly had I been seated five minutes, when an infirm and reverend old man approached, and sat down beside me. His feeble form was propt upon a long staff, a palsy shook his white locks, and his garments had all the quaintness of antiquity.
During some minutes, he gazed on me with earnestness, through a black mask; at length, heaving a heavy sigh, he thus broke forth in tremulous accents:
'Well-a-day! how the scalding tears do run adown my furrowed cheeks; for well I wis, thou beest herself—the Lady Cherubina De Willoughby, the long-lost daughter of mine honoured mistress!'
'Speak, I beseech you!' cried I. 'Are you, indeed, the ancient and loyal vassal?'
'Now by my truly, 'tis even so,' said he.
I could have hugged the dear old man to my heart.
'Welcome, thrice welcome, much respected menial!' cried I, grasping his hand. 'But keep me not in suspense. Unfold to me the heart-harrowing mysteries of my unhappy house!'
'Now by my fay,' said he, 'I will say forth my say. My name is Whylome Eftsoones, and I was accounted comely when a younker. But what boots that now? Beauty is like unto a flower of the field.—Good my lady, pardon a garrulous old man. So as I was saying, the damozels were once wont to leer at me right waggishly; but time changeth all things, as the proverb saith; and time hath changed my face, from that of a blithesome Ganymede to one of those heads which Guido has often painted; mild, pale, penetrating. Good my lady, I must tell thee a right pleasant and quaint saying of a certain nun, touching my face.'
'For pity's sake,' cried I, 'and as you value the preservation of my senses, continue your story without these digressions.'
'Certes, my lady,' said he. 'Well, I was first taken, as a bonny page, into the service of thy great great grandfader's fader's brother; and I was in at the death of these four generations, till at last, I became seneschal to thine honoured fader, Lord De Willoughby. His lordship married the Lady Hysterica Belamour, and thou wast the sole offspring of that ill-fated union.
'Soon after thy birth, thy noble father died of an apparition; or, as some will have it, of stewed lampreys. Returning, impierced with mickle dolour, from his funeral, which took place at midnight, I was stopped on a common, by a tall figure, with a mirksome cloak, and a flapped hat. I shook grievously, ne in that ghastly dreriment wist how myself to bear.'
'I do not comprehend your expressions,' interrupted I.
'I mean,' said he, 'I was in such a fright I did not know what to do. Anon, he threw aside his disguise, and I beheld—Lord Gwyn!'
'Lord Gwyn!' cried I.
'Yea,' said he. 'Lord Gwyn, who was ywedded unto Lord De Willoughby's sister, the Lady Eleanor.'
'Then Lady Eleanor Gwyn is my aunt!' cried I.
'Thou sayest truly,' replied he. '"My good Eftsoones," whispered Lord Gwyn to me, "know you not that my wife, Lady Eleanor Gwyn, will enjoy all the extensive estates of her brother, Lord De Willoughby, if that brother's infant, the little Cherubina, were no more?"
'"I trow, ween, and wote, 'tis as your lordship saith," answered I.
'His lordship then put into mine hand a stiletto.
'"Eftsoones," said he, with a hollow voice, "if this dagger be planted in a child's heart, it will grow, and bear a golden flower!"
'He spake, and incontinently took to striding away from me, in such wise, that maulgre and albe, I gan make effort after him, nathlesse and algates did child Gwyn forthwith flee from mine eyne.'
'I protest most solemnly,' said I, 'I do not understand five words in the whole of that last sentence!'
'And yet, my lady,' replied he, ''tis the pure well of English undefiled, and such as was yspoken in mine youth.'
'But what can you mean bychildGwyn?' said I. 'Surely his lordship was no suckling at this time.'
'Child,' said Eftsoones, 'signified a noble youth, some centuries ago; and it is coming into fashion again. For instance, there is Childe Harold.'
'Then,' said I, 'there is "second childishness;" and I fancy there will be "mere oblivion" too. But if possible, finish your tale in the corrupt tongue.'
'I will endeavour,' said he. 'Tempted by this implied promise of a reward, I took an opportunity of conveying you away from your mother, and of secreting you at the house of a peasant, whom I bribed to bring you up as his own daughter. I told Lord Gwyn that I had dispatched you, and he gave me three and fourpence halfpenny for my trouble.
'When the dear lady, your mother, missed you, she went through the most elegant extravagancies; till, having plucked the last hair from her head, she ran wild into the woods, and has never been heard of since.'
'Dear sainted sufferer!' exclaimed I.
'A few days ago,' continued Eftsoones, 'a messenger out of breath came to tell me, that the peasant to whom I had consigned you was dying, and wished to see me. I went. Such a scene! He confessed to me that he had sold you, body and bones, as he inelegantly expressed it, to one farmer Wilkinson, about thirteen years before; for that this farmer, having discovered your illustrious birth, speculated on a handsome consideration from Lord Gwyn, for keeping the secret. Now I am told there is a certain parchment——'
'Which I have!' cried I.
'And a certain portrait of Nell Gwyn——'
'Which I have!'
'And a mole just above your left temple——'
'Which I have!' exclaimed I, in an ecstasy.
'Then your title is made out, as clear as the sun,' said he; 'and I bow, in contrition, before Lady Cherubina de Willoughby, rightful heiress of all the territory now appertaining, or that may hereinafter appertain, to the House of De Willoughby.'
'Oh, dear, how delightful!' cried I. 'But my good friend, how am I to set about proving my title?'
'Nothing easier,' answered he. 'Lady Gwyn (for his lordship is dead) resides at this moment on your estate, which lies about thirty miles from Town; so to-morrow morning you shall set off to see her ladyship, and make your claims known to her. I will send a trusty servant with you, and will myself proceed before you, to prepare her for your arrival. You will therefore find me there.'
While we were in the act of arranging affairs more accurately, who should make his appearance, but Stuart in a domino!
The moment he addressed me, old Eftsoones slunk away; nor could I catch another glimpse of him during that night.
Stuart told me that he had come to the masquerade, on the chance of finding me there, as I seemed so determined on going, the last time he was with me. He likewise explained the mystery of the darkened chamber, and the false alarm of fire.
It appears, that as soon as he had discovered the views of Betterton, he hired a lodging at the opposite side of the street, and had two police officers there, for the purpose of watching Betterton's movements, and frustrating his attempts. He knocked several times in the course of yesterday, but was always answered that I had walked out. Knowing that I had not, he began to suspect foul play, and determined on gaining admittance to me. He therefore knocked once more, and then rushed into the house crying fire. This manœuvre had the desired effect, for an universal panic took place; and in the midst of it, he saw me issuing forth, and effect my escape. After having pursued me till he lost all traces of my route, he returned to my lodgings, and was informed by the poet, that Betterton had persuaded the landlady to fasten a carpet at the outside of my window, in order to make me remain in bed, till the time for the masquerade should arrive; and thus prevent me from having an interview with Stuart.
We then walked up and down the room, while I gave him an account of the ancient and loyal vassal, and of all that I had heard respecting my family. He was silent on the subject; and only begged of me to point out Eftsoones, as soon as I should see him; but that interesting old man never appeared. However, I was in great hopes of another adventure; for a domino now began hovering about us so much, that Stuart at last addressed it; but it glided away. He said he knew it was Betterton.
In about an hour, I became tired of the scene; for no one took notice of my dress. We therefore bade Jerry, who was in waiting, call a coach; and we proceeded in it to his house.
On our way, I mentioned my determination of setting off to Lady Gwyn's the very next morning, as Eftsoones had promised to meet me there. Stuart, for a wonder, applauded my resolution; and even offered to accompany me himself.
'For,' said he, 'I think I know this old Eftsoones; and if so, I fancy you will find me useful in unravelling part of the mystery. Besides, I would assist, with all my soul, in any plan tending to withdraw you from the metropolis.'
I snatched at his offer with joy; and it was then fixed that we should take a chaise the next morning, and go together.
On our arrival at the lodging, Stuart begged a bed of Jerry, that he might be ready for the journey in time; and the good-natured Irishman, finding him my friend, agreed to make up a pallet for him in the parlour.
Matters were soon arranged, and we have just separated for the night.
Well, Biddy, what say you now? Have I not made a glorious expedition of it? A young, rich, beautiful titled heiress already—think of that, Biddy.
As soon as I can decently turn Lady Gwyn out of doors, I mean to set up a most magnificent establishment. But I will treat the poor woman (who perhaps is innocent of her husband's crime) with extreme delicacy. She shall never want a bed or a plate. By the by, I must purchase silver plate. My livery shall be white and crimson. Biddy, depend upon my patronage. How the parson and music-master will boast of having known me. Then our village will swarm so,to hear tell as howMiss Cherry has grown a great lady. Old mother Muggins, at the bottom of the hill, will make a good week's gossip out of it. However, I mean to condescend excessively, for there is nothing I hate so much as pride.
Yet do not suppose that I am speculating upon an easy life. Though the chief obstacle to my marriage will soon be removed, by the confirmation of my noble birth, still I am not ignorant enough to imagine that no other impediments will interfere. Besides, to confess the fact, I do not feel my mind quite prepared to marry Montmorenci at so short a notice. Hitherto I have thought of him but as a lover, not as a husband—very different characters, in general.
Ah, no, my friend; be well assured, that adversity will not desert me quite so quickly. A present good is often the prognostic of an approaching evil; and when prosperity points its sunshine in our faces, misfortune, like our shadows, is sure to be behind.
Adieu.
After having breakfasted, and remunerated our entertainers, Stuart and I set out in a post-chaise, while Jerry ran at our side half way down the street, heaping me with blessings; and bidding me come to him if ever I should be ruined. After we had advanced a few miles into the country, Stuart began to look frequently through the back window, and appeared uneasy. At length he stopped the carriage, and desired the driver to turn round. As soon as the man had done so, another carriage, which, it seems, had followed us from London, passed us, and immediately turned after us.
''Tis as I thought!' cried Stuart, and stopping the chaise again, jumped out of it.
The chaise behind us also stopped; and a gentleman alighted from it and approached. But imagine my surprise, when I found that this gentleman was old Betterton! I could almost have embraced him, his villainous face looked so promising, and so pregnant with mischief.
'Sir,' said he to Stuart, 'as you have perceived me following your carriage, I find myself compelled, however unwillingly, to declare my motives for doing so. Last night I happened to be at the Pantheon, in a domino, and saw you there escorting this lady. I confess I had long before suspected your intentions towards her, and seeing you now together at a masquerade, and without a matron, I did not feel my suspicions lessened. I therefore had you both traced home, and I found, to my great horror, that you stopped at a wretched, and, as I am informed, infamous house in St. Giles's, where you remained during the night. I found too, that a chaise was at the door of it this morning: whence concluding, as I well might, that an elopement was in agitation, I determined, if possible, to prevent so dreadful a catastrophe, by hiring a carriage and pursuing you.
'Sir, you undertook to lecture me, when last I saw you; and plausibly enough you performed your part. It is now my duty to return the obligation. Mr. Stuart, Mr. Stuart, is it not a shame for you, Mr. Stuart? Is this the way to treat the daughter of your friend, Mr. Stuart? Go, silly boy, return to your home; and bless that heaven which hath sent me to the rescue of this fair unfortunate.'
'By all that is comical,' cried Stuart, laughing immoderately, 'this is too ludicrous even to be angry at! Miss Wilkinson, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Whylome Eftsoones, an ancient and loyal vassal of the De Willoughbys;—a mere modern in his principles, I am afraid; but addicted, I wis, to antiquated language.'
Betterton, I thought, looked rather blank, as he said, 'Really, Sir, I do not understand——'
'But really, Sir,' cried Stuart, 'Idounderstand. I understand, that if you would take less trouble in protecting this lady's honour, you would have a better chance of preserving your own.'
'Sir,' answered Betterton, 'I will have you to know, that I would sacrifice my life in defence of my honour.'
'Well, then,' said Stuart, 'though your life has but little of the saint, it will, at least, have something of the martyr.'
Betterton scowled at him askance, and grinned a thousand devils.
'Hear me, gentlemen,' cried I. 'If either of you again say any thing disrespectful or insulting to the other, I declare, on my honour, he shall leave me instantly. At present, I should be happy if both would do me the favour of escorting me to Lady Gwyn's, as I may meet with treatment there that will render the support of friends indispensible.'
It was now Stuart's turn to look downcast, and Betterton's to smile triumphant. The fact is, I wished to shew this admirable villain how grateful I felt for his meritorious conduct in not having deserted me.
'I will accept of your invitation with pleasure,' said he, 'for my seat lies within a few miles of her ladyship, and I wish to visit my tenantry.'
It was now noon. A few fleecy clouds floated in the blue depths of ether. The breeze brought coolness on its wings, and an inviting valley, watered by a rivulet, lay on the left; here whitened with sheep, and there dotted with little encampments of hay.
Exhilarated by the scene, after so long a confinement in the smoke and stir of London, I proposed to my companions the rural exercise of walking, as preferable to proceeding cooped up in a carriage. Each, whatever was his motive, caught at the proposal with delight, and we dismissed our chaises.
I now hastened to luxuriate in Arcadian beatitude. The pastoral habit of Tuscany was favourable; nothing remained but to rival an Ida, or a Glorvina, in simple touches of nature; and to trip along the lawns, like a Daphne or a Hamadryad.
In an instant, I sprang across a hedge, and fled towards the little valley, light as a wood-nymph flying from a satyr. I then took up a most picturesque position. It was beside of the streamlet, under a weeping willow, and on a grassy bank. Close behind me lay one of the most romantic cottages that I had ever seen, and at its back was a small garden, encompassed by green paling. The stream, bordered with wild-flowers, prattled prettily; save here and there, where a jutting stone shattered its crystal, and made its music hoarse. It purled and murmured a little too, but no where could it be said either to tinkle or gurgle, to chide or brawl.
Flinging off my bonnet, I shook my narcissine locks over my shoulders, and began braiding them in the manner of a simple shepherdess.
Stuart came up the first. I plucked a daisy that was half dipt into the brook; and instead of shaking off its moisture, I quaffed the liquid fragrance with my lip, and then held the flower to him.
'What am I to do with it?' said he.
'To pledge me,' replied I. 'To drink Nature's nectar, that trembles on the leaves which my lip has consecrated.'
He laughed and kissed the flower. That moment a lambkin began its pretty bleat.
'Now,' said I, 'make me a simple tripping little ditty on a lambkin.'
'You shall have it,' answered he, 'and such as an attorney's clerk would read to a milliner's apprentice.'