THE HANDSOME STRANGER.—DISAPPOINTMENT.
On the ensuing morning Farmer Bennet departed early for London.
After breakfast, Ellen said, with a significant smile: "The weather is
fine, Kate: let us take advantage of it. Your country air does me so
much good."
Katherine blushed, and then smiled also; but she offered no objection to
the proposed walk.
The toilette of the young ladies was soon complete; and they sallied
forth on their little excursion.
"Mr. Bennet has promised to call at Markham Place," observed Ellen. "I
have written a note to my father, stating that I shall return to-morrow,
or next day at latest; and I have intimated my intention of bringing you
with me. I most sincerely hope that some fresh tidings have been
received from Richard."
"And in that wish I earnestly partake," said Katherine. "But wherefore
do you choose this path?" she added in a tremulous tone, and with
downcast eyes.
"Because it is the most pleasant," answered Ellen, laughing. "It seems,
moreover, that your handsome stranger was determined to seek you in one
direction, as well as in another; and if he be in the neighbourhood this
morning, rest assured that he will see you—whichever way you may pursue.
Love has as many eyes in this respect as Argus. I am with you, dear
Kate—you have a companion; and there is no indiscretion in even taking
this very path where you have on most occasions met your unknown.
Besides, should he be here to-day, I am anxious to catch a glimpse of
him. To-morrow or next day you will leave this vicinity of pleasant
memories—at least for a time; and——"
"Ellen, Ellen!" murmured Kate, suddenly; and she caught her companion by
the arm.
"Ah! I understand!—compose yourself, Katherine—compose yourself," was
the rapid reply. "It would be improper to betray any emotion. See—he is
approaching slowly;—in the name of heaven compose yourself!"
And, in effect, a handsome young man,—with a dark complexion, fine and
expressive eyes, and a graceful figure,—was advancing in the opposite
direction. But he came slowly, as if anxious to keep some favourite
object as long in view as possible!
How the pulse of the maiden's young heart quickened, as she beheld her
unknown lover approaching.
And now the handsome stranger came near:—and Katherine drew close to her
companion, as the timid fawn relies for protection on the stately deer.
The look of the stranger was cast for a moment upon Ellen; but not the
bright glance of her eye—nor the rich colouring of her cheeks, framed as
they were in masses of glossy hair—nor that symmetry of swelling bust,
delicate waist, and matchless proportions of a finely-moulded form,—not
this assemblage of charms induced the stranger to dwell for more than an
instant on Katherine's companion. No:—it was to Katherine herself that
his eyes reverted with adoring glance; and though he gazed fixedly upon
the retiring maiden, yet there was something so respectful in his
manner, that it was impossible to take offence at it.
He made way for the two ladies, and raised his hat as they passed.
Katherine returned the salutation without turning her eyes towards him.
"Your stranger is not only handsome," observed Ellen, when they were at
such a distance as to incur no danger of being overheard; "but he is
also of an appearance so respectable—so superior,——I had almost said
noble,——that I cannot for a moment suppose his intentions to be
dishonourable. At the same time, why does he not address you? He might,
without impropriety, have taken advantage of my presence to speak to
you; and, to tell you the truth, it was to afford him such an
opportunity that I brought you in this direction."
We need not record the conversation that ensued: the reader does not
require to be informed that its principal topic was the love of the
young maiden—a theme on which she was naturally pleased to speak, and in
the discussion of which Ellen indulged her;—not, however, with the view
of fanning the flame of incipient passion; but with the affectionate
motive of warning her against the encouragement of hopes which might
never be fulfilled.
The walk was prolonged until two o'clock, when the young ladies retraced
their steps to the farm. Mr. Bennet had not yet returned from London:
dinner was however served up. The fresh air had given Ellen an appetite;
but Katherine ate little, and was somewhat pensive.
Indeed, the maiden had sufficient to engage the meditation of her young
mind. The evident impression which the handsome stranger had made upon
her, and the hope that evening would bring her the much-desired
information relative to her parents, divided her thoughts.
But of what nature would the old woman's secrets prove? in what manner
were they to be a source of comfort to her? It will be remembered that
Smithers had made her acquainted with certain particulars relative to
her mother; and the sad inference had been that Katherine was of
illegitimate birth. Would the tendency of the old woman's communications
be to clear up this mystery in a manner satisfactory to the young
maiden? As yet all was doubt and uncertainty; and conjecture was vain!
It was about four o'clock when the farmer made his appearance.
He entered the parlour, where Ellen, Katharine, and Mrs. Bennet were
sitting, with a countenance expressive of supreme satisfaction.
"I have glorious news for you, young ladies," he exclaimed; "and,
indeed, all who know Mr. Markham——I beg his pardon, the Marquis——must be
rejoiced."
"Oh! what of him?" ejaculated Ellen and Kate, as it were in one breath.
"Patience for a moment," said the farmer. "Here is a letter from Mr.
Monroe to you, Miss,"—addressing Ellen; "and that will explain every
thing yet known of the affair."
Ellen hastily tore open her father's note, and began to read its
contents aloud:—
"_January 29th, 1841._
"You will be supremely delighted, dearest Ellen, to hear the joyful
tidings which I am about to communicate. This morning's newspapers
publish a _Telegraphic Despatch_ from Toulon, stating that a grand
and decisive battle took place beneath the walls of Montoni on the
23d. Richard was completely victorious. The Austrian army was routed
with tremendous loss; the Grand Duke fled; and the capital was
delivered. Our dear benefactor is safe. The steamer which conveyed
these tidings to Toulon left Montoni in the afternoon of the 24th,
at the moment when Richard was entering the city—as the Regent of
Castelcicala!
"Nothing more is known at present; but this is enough not only to
reassure us all—but to fill our hearts with joy. My blood glows in
my veins, old as I am, when I think of Richard's grand achievements.
To what a proud height has he raised himself—second only to a
sovereign! As I looked forth from the casement ere now, and beheld
the two trees on the hill-top, I could not avoid a sorrowful
reflection concerning Eugene. What can have become of him? I——"
"Heavens! dearest Ellen, are you ill?" exclaimed Katherine, seeing that
her friend suddenly turned ashy pale.
"No, Kate: it is nothing! The abruptness with which we have received
these tidings——"
"Yes—you _are_ unwell," persisted Katherine; and she hastened to procure
water.
Ellen drank some; and the colour slowly returned to her cheeks.
"I am better now, Kate," she said. "Do you terminate the perusal of my
father's letter."
Katherine, perceiving that her friend really seemed to have revived,
read the remainder of the note in the following manner:—
"I fear that he will not be enabled to tell so glorious a tale as
his younger brother,—even if the appointment be really kept on his
part! But enough of that. You speak of bringing Miss Wilmot, to pass
a few days at the Place. I entirely approve of the project, if the
excellent people with whom she is living, and of whom Richard has
spoken to us so highly, be willing to part with her.
"I must not forget to mention that poor Whittingham is nearly crazed
with joy at Richard's success. You remember his extravagant but
unfeigned manifestation of delight when we received the tidings of
the battle of Abrantani and its results. Then the worthy fellow
danced and capered madly, exclaiming, '_Master Richard a Markis!_'
all day long. But when I read him the Telegraphic Despatch this
morning, he took his hat and kicked it all round the room,—a new hat
too,—until it was battered into a state beyond redemption,—shouting
all the time, '_Here's a glorious cataplasm!_'—(meaning
'catastrophe,' no doubt):—'_Master Richard a Markis, and a Regency!
I'll get drunk to-night, sir: I haven't been intoxicated for many a
year; but I'll get drunk to-night, in spite of all the Teetotalers
in London! Thank God for this glorious cataplasm!_' And he rushed
out of the room to communicate the news in his own way to Marian.
But conceive my surprise when I presently heard the report of
fire-arms: I listened—a second report followed—a third—a fourth. I
became alarmed, and hastened into the garden. There was Whittingham
firing a salute with his old blunderbuss; and Marian's new plaid
shawl was floating, by way of a banner, from the summit of a
clothes' prop fixed in the ground. Poor Marian did not seem to
relish the use to which her Sunday shawl was thus unceremoniously
converted; but all the satisfaction she could obtain from
Whittingham was, '_It's a glorious cataplasm! Master Richard's a
Regency!_' And away the old blunderbuss blazed again, until the
salute was complete. I do really believe the excellent-hearted old
man intends to illuminate the Place this evening; and I shall not
interfere with the ebullition of his honest joy.
"I write this long letter while Mr. Bennet partakes of some
refreshment.
"Trusting to see you and your young friend to-morrow or next day at
latest, I am, dearest Ellen," &c. &c.
It is unnecessary to state that the news from Montoni diffused the most
lively joy amongst the party assembled in the parlour of the farm-house.
Ellen speedily recovered her usual flow of excellent spirits, and
expressed her sincere satisfaction at that remarkable elevation on the
part of Richard which had excited the enthusiasm of her father.
Mr. and Mrs. Bennet offered no objection to the proposal that Kate
should pay a visit to Markham Place: on the contrary, though grieved to
part with her, they considered that change of scene could not do
otherwise than benefit her.
And now the appointed hour for the meeting with the old woman drew near;
and Mr. Bennet provided Kate with the necessary funds for her purpose.
Shortly before seven, the farmer (provided with a brace of loaded
pistols) and Ellen repaired to the same hiding-place which they had
occupied on the preceding evening; and, with a beating heart, Katherine
hastened to the spot where she expected to encounter one who had
promised to reveal secrets so nearly concerning her.
The old woman did not, however, make her appearance.
The minutes passed slowly away—and still she came not.
Katherine's anxiety was intense.
Half an hour had elapsed: still there was no sign of the hag.
The young maiden waited until past eight o'clock; and at length she
suddenly perceived two persons advancing towards her at a little
distance.
For a moment she felt afraid; but the farmer's voice speedily reassured
her.
Ellen and he were alarmed at Katherine's prolonged absence, and had come
to seek her.
Finding that the old woman had not made her appearance, they began to
view the entire affair with some suspicion; and Kate was compelled to
return with them to the farm—a prey to the most cruel disappointment.
"If the old woman was prevented, by any unforeseen circumstance, from
meeting you," said the farmer, "she will communicate with you early
to-morrow. Perhaps we may be favoured with another visit from her
emissary, Mr. Banks; but should he come, I shall take good care that he
treats us to a sight of no more model-coffins."
During the remainder of the evening Kate was pensive and melancholy; nor
could all Ellen's affectionate endeavours wean her from her sorrowful
thoughtfulness.
They retired to rest early; and Katherine rose next morning with the
hope of receiving tidings from the old woman.
But hour after hour passed without gratifying her wish.
Ellen purposely delayed their departure for London, to afford a fair
opportunity for the arrival of any intelligence which the old woman
might forward; but three o'clock came, and still all was blank
disappointment and mystery in respect to the affair.
Then Kate herself saw the inutility of tarrying longer; and, having
taken an affectionate farewell of Mrs. Bennet, the young ladies were
accompanied by the farmer to Hounslow. There they obtained a conveyance
for the capital, and Mr. Bennet saw them depart in safety.