A long time elapsed and we did not return, but amid the bustle that reigned in and around Craigaderyn Court, our absence was not observed so soon as it might otherwise have been, the attention of the many guests being fully occupied by each other. The proposal of Dora's health devolved upon Lord Pottersleigh as the senior bachelor present, and it was drunk amid such cheers as country gentlemen alone can give. Then Sir Madoc, who had a horror of after-dinner speeches in general, replied tersely and forcibly enough, because the words of thanks and praise for his youngest girl came straight from his affectionate heart; but his white handkerchief was freely applied to the nervous task of polishing his forehead, which gave him a sense of relief; for the worthy old gentleman was no orator, and closed his response by drinking to the health of all present in Welsh.
"Our good friend's ideas are somewhat antiquated," said Pottersleigh to Guilfoyle, who now stuck to him pretty closely; "but he is a thorough gentleman of an old school that is passing away."
His lordship, however, looked the older man of the two.
"Antiquated! By Jove, I should think so," responded the other, who instinctively disliked his host; "ideas old as the days when people made war without powder and shot, went to sea without compasses, and pegged their clothes for lack of buttons; but he is an hospitable old file, and his wine--this Château d'Yquem, for instance, is excellent."
Pottersleigh gave the speaker a quiet stare, and then, as if disliking this style of comment, turned to Lady Naseby for the remainder of the repast.
The overcasting of the day and a threatening of rain had put an end to much of the dancing on the flower-terrace, and of the promenading in the garden and grounds. The proposal of Dora's health had been deemed the close of the fête; the servants had begun to prepare for the ball, and many of the guests, whose invitation did not include that portion of the festivities--for the grounds of course, would hold more than the hall--were beginning to depart, while a few still lingered in the conservatories, the library, or the picture gallery; thus, though Caradoc was looking through them for me, with a shrewd idea that I was with Lady Estelle, he could not for the life of him imaginewhere; besides, Phil was anxious to make the most of his time with Miss Lloyd.
The breaking of the guests into groups caused our absence to be long unnoticed, especially while carriages, gigs, drags, wagonnettes, and saddle-horses were brought in succession to the door; cloaks and shawls put on, ladies handed in, and the stream of vehicles went pouring down the long lime avenue and out of the park.
"You have danced but once to-day with Mr. Caradoc, he has told me," said Dora in a low voice, as she passed her sister.
"I had so many to dance with--so many to introduce; and then, think of the evening before us."
"He loves you quite passionately, I think, Winny dear; more than words can tell."
"So it would seem," replied Winifred, smiling over her fan. "Why--how?"
"He has never spoken to me on the subject."
"He will do so before this evening is over, or I am no true prophetess," said Dora, as she threw back the bright masses of her hair.
"That I don't believe."
"Why?"
"Because he wears at his neck a gold locket, the contents of which no one has seen; and Mr. Guilfoyle assures me that it holds the likeness of a lady."
"Well time will prove," replied Dora, as she was again led away by her new admirer, the little sub from Chester; but her prediction came true.
Winifred felt instinctively that she was the chief attraction to Caradoc, and was exciting in his breast emotions to which she could not respond. Again and again when asking her to dance, she had urged in reply, that he would please her more by dancing with others, as there were present plenty of country girls to whom a red coat was quite a magnet; so poor Caradoc found plenty of work cut out for him. Pressed at last by him, Winifred said, while fanning herself,
"Do excuse me; to-night I shall reward you fully; but meanwhile we may take a little promenade. I think all who are to remain must know each other pretty well now;" and taking his arm they passed from the great marquee along the now deserted terrace, to find that the sky was so overcast and the wind so high, that they turned into an alley of the conservatory, where she expected to find some of their friends, but it was empty; and as Caradoc's face, and the tremulous inflections of his voice, while he was uttering mere commonplaces about the sudden change of the weather, the beauty of the flowers, the elegance of the conservatory, and so forth, told her what was passing in his mind, she became perplexed annoyed with herself, and said hurriedly,
"Let us seek Lady Naseby; I fear that we are quite neglecting her--and she is somewhat particular."
"One moment, Miss Lloyd, ere we go; I have so longed for an opportunity to speak with you--alone, I mean--for a moment--even for a moment," said he.
Winifred Lloyd knew what was coming; there was a nervous quivering of her upper lip, which was a short one, and showed a small portion of her white teeth, usually imparting an expression of innocence to her face, while its normal one was softness combined with great sweetness. Caradoc had now possessed himself of her right hand, thus without breaking away from him, and making thereby a species of "scene" between them, an episode to be avoided, she could not withdraw, but stood looking shyly and blushingly half into his handsome face, while he spoke to her with low and broken but earnest utterances.
"I have decoyed you hither," said he, "and you will surely pardon me for doing so, when you think how brief is my time now, here, in this happy home of yours--even in England itself; and when I tell you how anxious I have been to--to address you--"
"Mr. Caradoc," interrupted the girl, now blushing furiously behind her fan, "your moments will soon become minutes!"
"Would that the minutes might become hours, and the hours, days and years, could I but spend them with you! Listen to me, Miss Lloyd--"
"Not at present--do, pray, excuse me--I wish to speak with Dora."
But instead of having her hand released, it was now pressed by Caradoc between both of his.
"I will not detain you very long," said he, sadly, almost reproachfully; "you know that I love you; every time my eyes have met yours, every time I have spoken, my voice must have told you that I do dearly, and if the fondest emotions of my heart--"
"A soldier's heart, of which little scraps and shreds have been left in every garrison town?"
"Do not laugh at my honest earnestness!" urged Caradoc, with a deep sigh.
"Pardon me, I do not laugh; O think not that I could be guilty of such a thing!" replied Winifred, colouring deeper than ever.
Beautiful though she was, and well dowered too, this was the first proposal or declaration that had been made to her. The speaker was eminently handsome, his voice and eyes were full of passion and earnestness, and she could not hear him without a thrill of pleasure and esteem.
"I know that I am not worthy of you, perhaps; but--"
"I thank you, dear Mr. Caradoc, but--but--more is impossible."
"Impossible--why?"
She grew quite pale now, but he still retained her hand; and her change of colour was, perhaps, unseen by him, for there was little light in the conservatory, the evening clouds being dark and dense without.
"Miss Lloyd--Winifred--dearest Winifred--I love you, love you with all my heart and soul!"
"Do not say so, I implore you!" said she in an agitated voice, and turning away her head.
"Do you mean to infer that you are already engaged?"
"No."
"Or that you love another?"
"That is not a fair question," she replied, with a little hauteur of manner.
"It is, circumstanced as I am, and after the avowal I have made."
"Well, I do--not."
"And yet you cannot love me? Alas, I am most unfortunate!"
"Let this end, dear Mr. Caradoc," said Winifred, almost sobbing, and deeply repenting that she had taken his arm for a little promenade that was to end in a proposal. Phil, being in full uniform, played with, or swung somewhat nervously, the tassels of his crimson sash, a favourite resort of young officers when in any dubiety or dilemma. After a little pause--
"May I speak to Sir Madoc on the subject?" he asked.
"No."
"Perhaps my friend Harry Hardinge might advise--"
"Nay, for Heaven's sake don't confer with him on the matter at all!"
"Why?" said he, startled by her earnestness.
"Would you make love to me throughhim--through another?"
"You entirely mistake my meaning."
"Whatdoyou mean?"
"Simply what I have said; that I love you, esteem and admire you; that you are, indeed, most dear to me, and that if I had the approval--"
"Of the lady whose likeness is in your locket; so treasured that a secret spring secures it!" said she, suddenly remembering Dora's words as a means of escape.
"Yes, especially with her approval. I should then be happy, indeed. I know not how you came to know of it; but shall I show you the likeness?"
"If you choose," said Winifred, thinking in her heart, "Poor fellow, it must be his mother's miniature;" but when Phil touched a spring and the locket flew open she beheld a beautiful coloured photo ofherself.
"Good heavens!" she exclaimed, "how came you by this?"
"Hardinge had two in the barracks, and I begged one from him."
"Hardinge--Harry Hardinge! That was most unfair of him," said she, her agitation increasing; "he is one of our oldest friends."
"May I be permitted to keep it?"
"O, no; not there--not there, in a locket at your neck."
"Be it so; your slightest wish is law to me; but be assured, Miss Lloyd, the heart near which it lies was never offered to woman before."
"I can well believe you; but--hush, here are people coming!"
Sir Madoc and Lady Naseby entered the conservatory somewhat hurriedly, followed by two or three of the guests.
"Lady Estelle! Is Lady Estelle here?" they asked, simultaneously.
"No," replied Caradoc.
"Nor Harry Hardinge?"
"We are quite alone, papa," said Winifred, in a voice the agitation of which, at another time, must have been apparent to all; for no woman can hear a declaration of love or receive a proposal quite unconcerned, especially from a handsome young fellow who was so earnest as Philip Caradoc; around whom the coming departure for the seat of war shed a halo of melancholy interest, and who, by the artless production of the locket, proved that he had loved her for some time past, and secretly too.
"What the deuce is the meaning of this?" exclaimed Sir Madoc, with an expression of comicality, annoyance, and alarm mingling in his face; "the servants can nowhere find her!"
"Find who?" asked Lord Pottersleigh, opening his snuffbox as he shambled forward.
"Why, Lady Estelle."
His lordship took a pinch, paused for the refreshing titillation of a sneeze, and then said,
"Indeed--surprising--very!"
"And Hardinge is missing, too, you say?" said Phil. "How odd!"
"Odd! egad, I think itisodd; they have not been seen by any one for more than two hours, and a regular storm has come on!"
Phil and Miss Lloyd had been too much occupied, or they must have remarked the bellowing of the wind without and the sudden darkening of the atmosphere.
"O papa, papa!" exclaimed Dora, now rushing in from the lawn, "something dreadful must have happened. I left them on the verge of the cliffs; returning to look for the bracelet you gave me, I met my partner, Mr. Clavell of the 19th; we began dancing again, and I forgot all about them."
"On the cliffs!" exclaimed several voices, reprehensibly and fearfully.
"Yes," continued Dora, beginning to weep; "I took them through the park wicket, and suggested a visit to the Bôd Mynach."
"Suggested this to Estelle! She is not, as we are, used to such paths and places, and you tell us of it only now!" exclaimed Winifred, with an expression of reproach and anguish sparkling in her eyes.
"My God, an accident must have occurred! The wind--weather--compose yourself, Lady Naseby; Gwyllim, ring the house-bell, and summon every one," cried Sir Madoc; "not a moment is to be lost."
"O, what is all this you tell me now, Dora?" exclaimed Winifred, as she started from the conservatory, with her lips parted, her dark eyes dilated, and her hair put back by both her trembling hands.
Poor Phil Caradoc and his proposal were alike forgotten now; and he began to fear that, like Hugh Price of ours, in making love he had made some confounded mistake.
Querulous, and useless so far as searching or assisting went, Lord Pottersleigh nevertheless saw the necessity of affecting to do something, as a man, as a gentleman, and a very particular friend of the Naseby family. Accoutred in warm mufflings by his valet, with a mackintosh, goloshes, and umbrella, he left the house half an hour after every one else, and pottered about the lawn, exclaiming from time to time,
"Such weather! such a sky! ugh, ugh! what the devil can have happened?" till a violent fit of coughing, caused by the keen breeze from the sea, and certain monitory twinges of gout, compelled him to return to his room, and wait the event there, making wry faces and sipping his colchicum, while sturdy old Sir Madoc conducted the search on horseback, galloping knee-deep among fern, searching the vistas of the park, and sending deer, rabbits, and hares scampering in every direction before him. Above the bellowing of the stormy wind, that swept the freshly torn leaves like rain against the walls and mullioned windows of the old house, or down those long umbrageous vistas where ere long the autumn spoil would be lying thick, rose and fell the clangour of the house-bell. Servants, grooms, gamekeepers, and gardeners were despatched to search, chiefly in the wild vicinity of the now empty Bôd Mynach; but no trace could be found of Lady Estelle or her squire, save a white-laced handkerchief, which, while a low cry of terror escaped her, Lady Naseby recognised as belonging to her daughter. On it were a coronet and the initials of her name.
It had been found by Phil Caradoc with the aid of a lantern, when searching along the weedy rocks between the silent cavern and the seething sea, which was now black with the gathered darkness and a mist from the west.
There was no ball at Craigaderyn Court that night.
In this world, events unthought of and unforeseen are always happening; so, as I have hinted, did it prove with me, on the epoch of Dora's birthday fête. It was not without considerable difficulty and care on my side, trepidation and much of annoyance at Dora on that of Lady Estelle, mingled with a display of courage which sprang from her pride, that I conducted her by the hand down the old and time-worn flight of narrow steps--which had been hewn, ages ago, by some old Celtic hermit in the face of the cliff--till at last we stood on the little plateau that lies between the mouth of his abode and the sea, which was chafing and surging there in green waves, that the wind was cresting with snowy foam.
On our right the headland receded away into a wooded dell, that formed part of Craigaderyn Park. There a littlerhaidror cascade came plashing down a fissure in the limestone rocks, and fell into a pool, where a pointed pleasure-boat, named the Winifred, was moored. On our left the headland, that towered some eighty feet above us, formed part of the bluffs or sea-wall that stretched away to the eastward, and, sheer as a rampart, met the waves of the wide Irish Sea. Before us opened the arched entrance of the monk's abode--a little cavern or cell, that had been hollowed by no mortal hand. Its echoes are alleged to be wonderful; and it has been of old used as a hiding-place in times of war and trouble, and by smugglers for storing goods, where the knights of Craigaderyn could find them without paying to the king's revenue. It has evidently been what its name imports--the chapel and abode of some forgotten recluse. A seat of stones goes round the interior, save at the entrance. A stone pillar or altar had stood in its centre. A font or stone basin is there, and from it there flows a spring of clear water, with which the follower of St. David was wont to baptise the little savages of Britannia Secunda; and where now, in a more pleasant and prosaic age, it has supplied the tea and coffee kettles of many a joyous party, who came hither boating or fishing from Craigaderyn Court; and above that stone basin the hermit's hand has carved the somewhat unpronounceable Welsh legend:
"Heb Dduw, heb ddim."[1]
"A wonderful old place! But I have seen caverns enough elsewhere, and this does not interest me. I am no archæologist," said Lady Estelle--"besides, where is Dora?" she added, looking somewhat blankly up the ladder of steps in the cliff, by which we were to return: and she speedily became much less alive to the beauty of the scenery than to a sense of danger and awkwardness in her position.
There was no appearance of Dora Lloyd, and we heard no sound in that secluded place, save the chafing of the surf, the equally monotonous pouring of the waterfall, and the voices of sea-birds as they skimmed about us.
I thought that Lady Estelle leant upon my arm a little heavier than usual, and remembered that, when I took her hand in mine to guide her down, she left it there firmly and confidingly.
"May I show you the grotto?" said I; and my heart beat tumultuously while I looked in her face, the rare beauty of which was now greatly enhanced by a flush, consequent on our descent and the sea-breeze.
"O no, no, thanks very much; but let us return to the park ere we be missed. Give me your hand, Mr. Hardinge. If we came down so quickly, surely we may as quickly ascend again."
"Shall I go first?"
"Please, do. The caves of Fingal, or Elephanta and Ellora to boot, were not worth this danger."
"I have come here many a time for a few sea-birds' eggs," said I, laughing, to reassure her.
But the ascent proved somehow beyond her power. The wind had risen fast, and was sweeping round the headland now, blowing her dress about her ankles, and impeding her motions. She had only ascended a little way when giddiness or terror came over her. She lost all presence of mind, and began to descend again. Thrice, with my assistance, she essayed to climb the winding steps that led to the summit, and then desisted. She was in tears at last. As all confidence had deserted her, I proposed to bind her eyes with a handkerchief; but she declined. I also offered, if she would permit me to leave her for a few minutes, to reach the summit and bring assistance; but she was too terrified to remain alone on the plateau of rock, between the cell and the water.
"Good heavens!" she exclaimed, when, like myself, perhaps she thought of Lady Naseby, "what shall I do? And all this has been brought about by the heedless suggestions of Dora Lloyd--by her folly and impulsiveness! Will she never return to advise us?"
Nearly half-an-hour had elapsed, and a dread that she, that I--that both of us--must now be missed, and the cause of surmise, roused an anger and pride in her breast, that kindled her eye and affected her manner, thus effectually crushing any attempt to intrude my own secret thoughts upon her.
"Whatarewe to do, Mr. Hardinge? Here we cannot stay; I dare not climb; not a boat is to be seen; the sun has almost set, and see, how dense a mist is coming on!"
I confess that I had not observed this before, so much had I been occupied by her own presence, by her beauty, and by entreating that she would "screw her courage to the sticking-point," and ascend where I had seen the two pretty Lloyds trip from step to step in their mere girlhood, to the horror, certainly, of their French governess; but knowing that a fog from the sea was rolling landward in dense masses, and that the evening would be a stormy one, I felt intense anxiety for Lady Estelle, and certainly left nothing unsaid to reassure her, firmly yet delicately--for good breeding becomes a second nature, and is not forgotten even in times of dire emergency; then how much less so when we love, and love as I did Estelle Cressingham?--but all my arguments were in vain. There was in her dark eyes a wild and startled brilliance, a hectic spot on each pale cheek. Her innate pride remained, but her courage was gone. She trembled, and her breath came short and quick as she said,
"Who would have dreamt that I--Ishould have acted thus? More heedlessly even than Dora, for she is a Welsh girl, and, like a goat, is used to such places. And now there is no aid--not even the smallest boat in sight!"
"Of what have I been thinking!" I exclaimed. "The pleasure-boat which belongs to the grotto is moored yonder in the creek, where some visitor, who preferred the short cut up the cliff, has evidently left it. If you will permit me to place you in it, I can row across the mouth of the waterfall to the other side, where a Chinese bridge will enable us at once to reach the lawn."
"Why did you not think of this before?" she asked, with something of angry reproach almost flashing in her eyes.
"Will you make the attempt?"
"Of course. O, would that you had thought of it before!"
"Come, then, though the wind has risen certainly; and among so many guests, our absence may have been unnoticed yet."
I reached the boat--a gaudily-painted shallop, seated for four oars. There were but two, however; these were enough; but as ill-luck would have it, she was moored to a ring-bolt in the rocks by a padlock and chain, which I had neither the strength nor the means of breaking. This was a fresh source of delay, and Lady Estelle's whole frame seemed to quiver and vibrate with impatience, while every moment she raised her eyes to the cliff, by which she expected succour or searchers to come. What the deuce was she--werewe--to say to all this? With a girl possessed of more nerve and firmness of mind this matter could never have taken such a turn, and the delay had never occurred. Thismalheuror mishap--this variation from the strict rules laid down by such matrons as the Countess of Naseby--looked so like a scheme, that I felt we were in a thorough scrape, and knew there was not a moment to be lost in making our appearance at the Court. By a stone I smashed the padlock, and casting loose the boat, brought it to where Lady Estelle stood, beating the rock impatiently with her foot; and, handing her on board, seated her in the stern-sheets, but with some difficulty, as the west wind was rolling the waves with no small fury now past the headland, in which the black Bôd Mynach gaped.
"Pull with all your strength, Mr. Hardinge. Dear Mr. Hardinge, let us only be back in time, and I shall ever thank you!" she exclaimed.
"All that man can do I shall," was my enthusiastic reply.
I could pull a good stroke-oar, and had done so steadily in many a regimental and college boat-race and regatta; but now there ensued what I never could have calculated upon. Excited by the desire of pleasing Lady Estelle by landing her on the opposite side of the tiny bay with all speed--desirous, when seated opposite to her, face to face, of appearing to some advantage by an exhibition of strength and skill--at each successive stroke, as I shot the light boat seaward, I almost lifted it out of the water. I had to clear a rock, over which the water was foaming and gleaming in green and gold amid the sinking sunshine, ere I headed her due westward, and in doing so I cleared also the headland, which rose like a tower of rock from the sea, crowned by a clump of old elms, wherein some rooks had taken up their quarters in times long past.
"O, Mr. Hardinge," said Lady Estelle, while grasping the gunwale with both hands, and looking up, "how had I ever the courage to come down such a place? It looks fearful from this!"
Ere I could reply, the oar in my right hand broke in the iron rowlock with a crash. The wood had been faulty. By this mishap I lost my balance, and was nearly thrown into the sea, as the boat careered over on a wave. Thus theotherwas torn from my grasp, and swept far beyond my reach. I was powerless now--powerless to aid either her or myself. The tide was ebbing fast. The strong west wind, and the current running eastward, influenced by the flow of the Clwyde, and even of the Dee, ten miles distant, swept the now useless boat past the abutting headland, and along the front of those cliffs which rise like a wall of rock from the sea, and where, as the mist gathered round us, our fate would be unseen, whether we were dashed against the iron shore or swept out into the ocean.
The red sunset was fading fast on distant Orme's Head, where myriads of sea-birds are ever revolving, like gnats in the light amid its grand and inaccessible crags. It was dying, too, though tipping them with flame, on Snowdon's peaks, the eyrie of the golden eagle and the peregrine falcon, and on the smaller range of Carneydd Llewellyn. Purple darkness was gathering in the grassy vales between, and blue and denser grew those shadows as the cold gray mist came on, and the sombre glow of a stormy sunset passed away. Soon the haze of the twilight blurred, softened, and blended land and sea to the eastward. The sharp edge of the new moon was rising from a dark and trembling horizon, whence the mist was coming faster and more fast, and the evening star, pale Hesperus, shone like a tiny lamp amid the opal tints of a sky that was turning fast to dun and darkness. The rolling mist soon hid the star and the land, too, and I only knew that we were drifting helplessly away.
The absence of the boat from its mooring-place was soon observed, and surmises were rife that we must infallibly have gone seaward. But why? It seemed unaccountable--and at such a time, too! The idea that Lady Estelle's heart should fail her in attempting to return by the cliff never occurred to any save Winifred, who knew more of her friend's temperament than the rest, and for a time, with others, the ardent and courageous girl searched the shore, and several boats were put forth into the mist; but in vain, and ere long the strength and violence of the wind drove even Sir Madoc and all his startled guests to the shelter of the house. Muffled in silk cloaks and warm shawls or otter-skin jackets, the ladies had lingered long on the terraces, on the lawn and avenues, while the lights of the searchers were visible, and while their hallooing could be heard at times from the rocks and ravines, where they swung their lanterns as signals, in hopes that the lost ones might see them.
Lord Pottersleigh snuffed and ejaculated from time to time, and ere long had betaken himself to his room. Caradoc, Guilfoyle--who seemed considerably bewildered by the affair--young Clavel of the 19th, and other gentlemen, with Gwyllim the butler, Morgan Roots the gardener, Bob Spurrit, and the whole male staff of the household, manfully continued their search by the shore. There the scene was wild and impressive. Before the violence of the bellowing wind, the mist was giving place to the pall-like masses of dark clouds, which rolled swiftly past the pale face of the new moon, imparting a weird-like aspect to the rocky coast, against which the sea was foaming in white and hurrying waves, while the sea-birds, scared alike by the shouts and the light of the searchers, quite as much as by the storm, screamed and wheeled in wild flights about their eyries. Moments there were when Caradoc thought the search was prosecuted in the wrong direction, and that, as there had probably been an elopement, this prowling along the seashore was absurd.
"Can it be," said he, inaudibly, "that the little boy who cried for the moon has made off with it bodily? If so, this will be rather a 'swell' affair for the mess of the Royal Welsh."
Slowly passed the time, and more anxious than all the rest--Lady Naseby of course excepted--the soft-hearted Winifred was full of dismay that any catastrophe should occur to two guests at Craigaderyn, and she listened like a startled fawn to every passing sound.
Dora, as deeming herself the authoress of the whole calamity, was completely crushed, and sat on a low stool with her head bowed on Lady Naseby's knee, sobbing bitterly ever and anon, when the storm-gusts howled among the trees of the chase, shook the oriels of the old mansion, and made the ivy leaves patter on the panes, or shuddering as she heard the knell-like ding-dong of the house-bell occasionally. The masses of her golden hair had been dishevelled by the wind without; but she forgot all about that, as well as about her two solemn engagements made with Tom Clavell for the morrow; one, the mild excitement of fishing for sticklebacks in the horse-pond, and the other, a gallop to the Marine Parade of Llandudno, attended by old Bob Spurrit; for the little sub of the 1st York North Riding was,pro tem., the bondsman of a girl who was at once charming and childish, petulant and more than pretty. Heavily and anxiously were passed the minutes, the quarters, and the hours. Messenger after messenger to the searchers by the shore went forth and returned. Their tidings were all the same; nothing had been seen or heard of the boat, of Lady Estelle, or of her companion. Nine o'clock was struck by the great old clock in the stable court, and then every one instinctively looked at his or her watch. Half-past nine, ten, and even midnight struck, without tidings of the lost. By that time the mist had cleared away, the tide had turned, and the west wind was rolling the incoming sea with mightier fury on the rock-bound shore.
The first hours of the morning passed without intelligence, and alarm, dismay, and grief reigned supreme among the pallid group at Craigaderyn Court. All could but hope that with the coming day a revelation might come for weal or woe; and as if to involve the disappearance of the missing ones in greater mystery, if it did not point to a terrible conclusion, the lost pleasure-boat was discovered by a coastguardsman, high and dry, and bottom up, on a strip of sandy beach, some miles from Craigaderyn; but of its supposed occupants not a trace could be found, save a lace cuff, recognised as Lady Estelle's, wedged or washed into the framework of the little craft, thus linking her fate with it. Ours was, indeed, a perilous situation. We were helplessly adrift on a stormy sea, off a rock-bound coast, in a tiny boat, liable to swamping at any moment, without oars or covering, the wind rising fast, while the darkness and the mist were coming down together. I had no words to express my anxiety for what one so delicately nurtured as Estelle might suffer. My annoyance at the surmises and wonder naturally excited by our protracted absence; quizzical, it might be equivocal, inferences drawn from it--I thought nothing of these. I was beyond all such minor considerations, and felt only solicitude for her safety and a terror of what her fate might be. All other ideas, even love itself--though that very solicitude was born of love--were merged for the time in the tenderest anxiety. If her situation with me was perilous, what had it been if with Lord Pottersleigh? But had she been with him, no such event as a descent to that unlucky pleasure grotto could have been thought of. Though pale and terrified, not a tear escaped her now; but her white and beautiful face was turned, with a haggard aspect, to mine. A life-buoy happened to be in the boat, and without a word I tied it to her securely.
"Is there not one for you?" she asked, piteously, laying a hand on mine.
"Think not of me, Lady Estelle; if you are saved, what care I for myself?"
"You swim, then?"
"A little, a very little; scarcely at all."
"You are generous and noble, Mr. Hardinge! O, if kind God permits me to reach the land safely, I shall never be guilty of an act of folly like this again. Mamma says--poor mamma!--that it is birth, or blood, which carries people through great emergencies; but who could have foreseen such a calamitous contretemps as this? And who could have been a greater coward than I? I should have made a steady attempt at yonder pitiful cliff; to fail was most childish, and I have involved you in this most fatal peril."
She sobbed as she spoke, and her eyes were full of light; but her lips were compressed, and all her soft and aristocratic loveliness seemed for a time to grow different in expression; to gather sternness, as a courage now possessed her, of which she had seemed deficient before, or it might be an obstinacy born of despair; for the light boat was swept hither and thither helplessly, by stem and stern alternately, on each successive wave; tossed upward on the crest of one watery ridge, or sunk downward between two that heaved up on each side as if to engulf us; while the spoondrift, salt and bitter, torn from their tops, flew over us, as she clung with one hand to the gunwale of the tiny craft, and with the other to me.
That we were not being drifted landward was evident, for we could no longer hear the voices of the sea-birds among the rocks; and to be drifted seaward by ebb tide or current was only another phase of peril. The voice of Lady Estelle came in painful gasps as she said,
"O, Mr. Hardinge, Mr. Hardinge, we shall perish most miserably; we shall certainly be drowned! Mamma, my poor mamma, I shall never see her more!"
Though striving to reassure her I was, for a time, completely bewildered by anxiety for what she must suffer by a terror of the sudden fate that might come upon her; and I was haunted by morbid visions of her, the brilliant Estelle, a drowned and sodden corpse, the sport of the waves--of myself I never thought--tossing unburied in the deep, or, it might be, cast mutilated on the shore; and she looked so beautiful and helpless as she clung to me now, clasping my right arm with all her energy, her head half reclined upon my shoulder, and the passing spray mingling with her tears upon her cheek. "The drowning man is said to be confronted by a ghostly panorama of his whole life." It may be so generally; but then I had only the horror of losing Estelle, whom I loved so tenderly. We were now together and alone, so completely, suddenly, and terribly alone, it might be for life or for death--the former short indeed, and the latter swift and sudden, if the boat upset, or we were washed out of it into the sea; and yet in that time of peril she possessed more than ever for me that wondrous and undefinable charm and allurement which every man finds in the woman he loves, and in her only.
"God spare us and help us!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Hardinge, I am filled with unutterable fear;" and then she added, unconsciously quoting some poet, "I find the thought of death, to one near death, most dreadful!"
"With you, Estelle, love might make it indeed a joy to die!" I exclaimed, with a gush of enthusiasm and tenderness that, but for the terrible situation, had been melodramatic.
"I did not think that you loved me so," said she, after a little pause; and my arm now encircled her waist, while something of an invocation to heaven rose to my lips, and I repeated,
"Not think that I loved you! Do not be coquettishly unwilling to admit what you must know, that since that last happy night in London you have never been absent from my thoughts; and here, Estelle, dear, dear Estelle, when menaced by a grave amid these waters, I tell you that I loved you from the first moment that I knew you! Death stares us in the face, but tell me truly that you--that you--"
"Love you in return? I do, indeed, dear Harry!" she sobbed, and then her beloved face, chilled and damp with tears and spray, came close to mine.
"God bless you, O my darling, for this avowal!" said I in a thick voice, and even the terrors of our position could not damp the glow of my joy.
In all my waking dreams of her had Estelle seemed beautiful; but never so much so as now, when I seemed on the eve of losing her for ever, and my own life, too; when each successive wave that rolled in inky blackness towards us might tear her from my clasp! How easily under some circumstances do we learn the language of passion! and now, while clasping her fast with one arm, as with both of hers she clung to me, I pressed her to my breast, and told her again and again how fondly I loved her, while--as it were in a dream, a portion of a nightmare--our boat, now filling fast with water, was tossed madly to and fro. And like a dream, too, it seemed, the fact that I had her all to myself--for life or death, as it were--this brilliant creature so loved by many, so prized by all, and hitherto apparently so unattainable; she who, by a look, a glance, a smile, by a flirt of her fan, by the dropping of a glove, or the gift of a flower, selected with point from her bouquet, had held my soul in thrall by all the delicious trifles that make up the sum and glory of love to the lover who is young. And where were we now? Alone on the dark, and ere long it was the midnight, sea! Alone, and with me; I who had so long eyed her lovingly and longingly, even as Schön Rohtrant, the German king's daughter, was gazed at and loved by the handsome page, who dared not to touch or kiss her till he gathered courage one day, as the ballad tells us, when they were under a shady old oak.
"If God spares us to see her," said Lady Estelle, "what will mamma think of this terriblefiascoof ours?"
While Estelle loved me, I felt that I did not care very much for the dowager's views of the matter, especially at that precise moment. When onterra firmathere would be sufficient time to consider them.
"And you are mine, darling?" said I, tenderly.
"I am yours, Harry, and yours only."
"Never shall I weary of hearing this admission; but the rumour of an engagement to Lord Pottersleigh?'
"Absurd! It has grown out of his dangling after me and mamma's wish, as I won't have my cousin Naseby."
"And you do not hold yourself engaged--"
"Save to you, Harry, and you alone."
And as her head again sank upon my shoulder, her pride and my doubts fled together; but now a half-stifled shriek escaped her, as the frail boat was nearly overturned by a larger wave than usual, which struck it on the counter. We were drenched and chilled, so ours was, indeed, love-making under difficulties; and the time, even with her reclining in my arms, passed slowly. How many a prayer and invocation, all too deep for utterance, rose to my lips for her! The hours drew on. Would day never dawn? With all the sweet but now terrible companionship of love--for it was love combined with gloomy danger--this was our utmost craving.
The new moon, as she rose pale and sharp, like a silver sickle, from the Irish Sea, when the fog began to disperse, tipped for a little time with light the wave-tops as they rose or sank around us; but clouds soon enveloped her again; and when the tide turned, the sea ran inward, and broke wildly on the tremendous headlands of the coast. That our boat was not swamped seemed miraculous; but it was very buoyant, being entirely lined with cork, and had air-tight compartments under the seats. A gray streak at the far horizon had spread across a gap of pale green, announcing that the short August night was past, and rapidly it broadened and brightened into day, while crimson and gold began to tip the wave-tops with a fiery hue, the whole ocean seeming to be mottled, as it were; and I could see the coast-line, as we were not quite a mile from it. In the distance were plainly visible the little town of Abergele, and those hills where Castell Cawr and the Cefn Ogo are, tinged with pink, as they rose above the white vapour that rolled along the shore.
The more distant mountain ranges seemed blue and purple against a sky where clouds of pearly-pink were floating. Estelle was exhausted now. Her pallor added to my misery. So many hours of pitiless exposure had proved too much for her strength, and with her eyes closed she lay helpless in my arms, while wave after wave was now impelling us shoreward, and, most happily it would seem, towards a point where the rocks opened and the water shoaled. One enormous breaker, white-crested and overarching, came rolling upon us. A gasp, a mutual cry to heaven, half-stifled by the bitter spray, and then the mighty volume of it engulfed us and our boat. We had a momentary sense of darkness and blindness, a sound as of booming thunder mingled with the clangour of bells in our ears, and something of the feeling of being swept by an express train through a tunnel filled with water, for we were fairly under the latter; but I clung to the boat with one hand and arm, while the other went round Estelle with a death-like embrace, that prevented her from being swept or torn from me.
For some moments I knew not whether we were on the land or in the sea; but, though stunned by the shock, I acted mechanically. Then I remember becoming conscious of rising through the pale-green water, of inhaling a long breath, a gasping respiration, and of seeing the sunshine on the waves. Another shock came, and we were flung on the flat or sloping beach, to be there left by the receding sea. Instead of in that place, had we been dashed against the impending rocks elsewhere, all had then been over with us. I still felt that my right arm was clasped around Estelle; but she was motionless, breathless, and still; and though a terror that she was dead oppressed me, a torpor that I could not resist spread over all my faculties, and I sank into a state of perfect unconsciousness.