We shall not enter into tedious details of the measures taken to pursue,
or endeavours to discover the prisoner, nor yet of the surmises thrown
out that his escape had been connived at. Neither shall we claim the
sympathy of our readers, for the disappointment of those who flocked to
Arden to witness the expected execution; but rather, confining our
attention to the more interesting persons of our narrative, go on to
say, that through the long hours of that day, whatever were the varied
occupations of others, the eye of Lady Arden still kept watch on that
lonely turret which held her son, and which (hence its title of the
eagle's nest) projecting from the side of the highest of the elevated
group of towers, seemed to have its dwelling among the clouds. So
conspicuous an object had it become in her sight, that though, as Mr.
Cameron said, it appeared in the distance but a speck, not larger than a
hand lantern, and was completely enveloped with ivy, yet the most
unreasonable dread assailed her lest it should draw the attention and
excite the suspicion of every creature who passed by. If but a wandering
mendicant crossed the park, her heart would cease to beat the while, and
her anxious gaze follow the form, till the pathway leading to the rock
on which the castle stood was left behind. Nor did she withdraw
affection's eye, nor cease to be the guardian spirit of the spot, till
the shadows of evening closing round, shut out the ruins from her view.
Alfred had now, she knew, commenced his journey. Her devoted affection
would have led her to accompany her son, but such a step would hamper
his flight, and endanger his safety. Even a farewell interview was not
to be thought of.
In utter desolation of spirit, therefore, our unhappy hero, even at the
moment we are describing, rapidly descended the height on which the
castle stood, and strode across the wide extent of park, thus
abdicating, as it were, the princely domain of his forefathers, with
scarcely a consciousness of where he was, or what his purpose; and when,
after pursuing his journey for a time, he became capable of any approach
to reflection, his thoughts were all of wretchedness. An exile, an
outlaw, dishonoured, beggared, disguised, he was quitting his native
land, probably for ever; unless, indeed, he should be pursued and
dragged back, to suffer an ignominious death. He was, it is true, in the
very act of escaping for the present this last, and in the estimation of
most people worst, because irremediable ill; but accompanying this
reflection were sensations which, perhaps, he could not himself have
defined. For, since his sentence had been pronounced, notwithstanding
the anxious efforts still making in his behalf, he had been strenuously
preparing his mind for the most fatal issue, and, with the assistance of
the pious Mr. Edwards, endeavouring to wean his affections from things
below and to centre all his hopes in heaven. However little understood
such feelings may be by those who are engaged in the busy whirl of
terrestrial concerns, to those who have lately stood on the brink of the
grave, they possess an awful reality not soon to be forgotten.
Compared with views of peace, and rest, and hope so obtained, there was,
as a counterpoise to the mere instinct of self preservation, a strong
sense of distaste to the weary pilgrimage of life renewed; nor will this
seem overstrained, when we remember under what circumstances it was
renewed; when we contemplate the universal blight which had fallen upon
the fair spring of all his earthly prospects.
At an early hour the next morning, the melancholy ceremony of
Willoughby's funeral, which had been so long delayed in the hope of his
brother being able to take with honour his place of chief mourner, was
at length obliged to be performed in all the hopeless misery of present
circumstances. Immediately after the conclusion of the dismal
solemnities the family set out for London.
Lady Arden had determined to remain in England till every effort had
been made to obtain the reprieve of her son; but, if all failed, to join
him under a feigned name at Geneva, the place at which they had
appointed to meet; and become, for the remainder of her sojourn upon
earth, the kind companion and solace of his wanderings.
Two of her daughters were already married; Mr. Cameron had generously
declared his unaltered determination to become the husband of Madeline;
Lady Arden had that morning consigned to the grave the remains of poor
Willoughby; Alfred alone, therefore, now claimed all her care, all her
tenderness, all the consolation her maternal affection could bestow.
How the affair would have concluded had not our hero made his escape,
remains enveloped in mystery; that circumstance might have been supposed
to supersede the necessity for a reprieve. It was, however, generally
believed, that Lady Arden had received an assurance that there should be
no efforts made to pursue her son, or to require him at the hands of
foreign powers, but that unless some circumstances in his favour came to
light, it would be necessary for him to live abroad, and remain unknown.