How shall I trace this, the happiest period of my life, when days and
weeks rolled on and left no trace behind, save in that delicious calm
that stole over my senses gradually and imperceptibly! Each morning saw
me on my way to Castle Bellew. The mountain path that led up from the
little strand was well worn by my footsteps; I knew its every turn and
winding; scarcely a dog-rose bloomed along the way with which I had not
grown familiar. And how each object spoke to my heart! For I was happy.
The clouds that moved above, the rippling tide that flowed beneath, the
sunny shore, the shady thicket, were all to me as though I had known
them from boyhood. For so it is, in our glad moments we cling to
all things that surround us; and giving to external Nature the high
colouring of our own hearts, we feel how beautiful is this world.
Yet was my mind not all tranquil; for often, as I hastened on, some
passing thought would shoot across me. Where is this to end? Can I hope
ever to overcome the deep-rooted prejudices of my family, and induce
them to receive amongst them as my wife the beautiful and artless
daughter of the wild west? Or could I dare to expose her, on whom all
my affections were centred, to the callous criticism of my fine
lady-mother, and her fashionable friends in London? What right had I
to stake Louisa's happiness on such a chance--to take her from all
the objects endeared to her by taste, by time, by long-hallowed
associations, and place her amid those among whom the very charm of her
untarnished nature would have made her their inferior? Is it that trait
of rebellious spirit that would seem to leaven every portion of our
nature which makes our love strongest when some powerful barrier has
been opposed to our hopes and wishes; or is it, rather, that in the
difficulties and trials of life we discover those deeper resources of
our hearts, that under happier auspices had lain dormant and unknown?
I scarcely know; but true it is, after such reflections as these I ever
hurried on the faster to meet Louisa, more resolutely bent than ever, in
weal or woe, to link my fortune with her own.
Though I returned each night to the priest's cottage, my days were
entirely spent at Castle Bellew. How well do I remember every little
incident that marked their tranquil course! The small breakfast-parlour,
with its old Tudor window looking out upon the flower-garden--how often
have I paced it, impatient for her coming; turning ever and anon to the
opening door, where the old butler, with the invariable habitude of his
kind, continually appeared with some portion of the breakfast equipage!
How I started, as some distant door would shut or open, some far-off
footstep sound upon the stair, and wonder within myself why she felt not
some of this impatient longing! And when at last, tortured with anxiety
and disappointment, I had turned away towards the window, the gentle
step, the rustling dress, and, more than all, the indescribable
something that tells us we are near those we love, bespoke her
coming--oh, the transport of that moment! With what a fervid glow of
pleasure I sprang to meet her, to touch her hand, to look upon her! How
rapidly, too, I endeavoured to speak my few words of greeting, lest her
father's coming might interfere with even this short-lived period
of happiness; and, after all, how little meaning were in the words
themselves, save in the tone I spoke them!
Then followed our rambles through the large but neglected garden, where
the rich blossoming fruit-tree scented the air, loaded with all the
fragrance of many a wild flower. Now strolling onwards, silent, but full
of thought, we trod some dark and shaded alley; now we entered upon some
open glade, where a view of the far-off mountains would break upon us,
or where some chance vista showed the deep-blue sunny sea swelling with
sullen roar against the rocky coast. How often, at such times as these,
have I asked myself if I could look for greater happiness than thus to
ramble on, turning from the stupendous majesty of Nature to look into
her eyes whose glance met mine so full of tender meaning, while words
would pass between us, few and low-voiced, but all so thrilling; their
very accents spoke of love!
Yet, amid all this, some agonising doubt would shoot across me that my
affection was not returned. The very frankness of her nature made me
fear; and when we parted at night, and I held my homeward way towards
the priest's cottage, I would stop from time to time, conning over every
word she spoke, calling to mind each trivial circumstance; and if by
accident some passing word of jest» some look of raillery, recurred to
my memory, how have the warm tears rushed to my eyes, as with my heart
full to bursting I muttered to myself, 'She loves me not!' These fears
would then give way to hope, as in my mind's eye she stood before me,
all beaming in smiles. And amid these alternate emotions, I trod my
lonely path, longing for the morrow when we should meet again, when I
vowed within my heart to end my life of doubt by asking if she loved me.
But with that morrow came the same spell of happiness that lulled me;
and like the gambler who had set his life upon the die, and durst not
throw, so did I turn with trembling fear from tempting the chance that
might in a moment dispel the bright dream of my existence, and leave
life bleak and barren to me for ever.
The month of August was drawing to a close, as we sauntered one fine
evening towards the sea-shore. There was a little path which wound round
the side of a bold crag, partly by steps, partly by a kind of sloping
way, defended at the sides by a rude wooden railing, which led down upon
the beach exactly at the spot where a well of clear spring-water sprang
up, and tracked its tiny stream into the blue ocean. This little spring,
which was always covered by the sea at high-water, was restored, on the
tide ebbing, to its former purity, and bubbled away as before; and from
this cause it had obtained from the simple peasantry the reputation of
being miraculous, and was believed to possess innumerable properties of
healing and consoling.
I had often heard of it but never visited it before; and thither we now
bent our steps, more intent upon catching the glorious sunset that was
glowing on the Atlantic than of testing the virtues of St. Senan's Well,
for so was it called. The evening, an autumnal one, was calm and still;
not a leaf stirred; the very birds were hushed; and there was all that
solemn silence that sometimes threatens the outbreak of a storm. As we
descended the crag, however, the deep booming of the sea broke upon us,
and between the foliage of the oak-trees we could mark the heavy rolling
of the mighty tide, as wave after wave swelled on, and then was dashed
in foam and spray upon the shore. There was something peculiarly grand
and almost supernatural in the heavy swell of the great sea, rearing
its white crest afar and thundering along the weather-beaten rocks, when
everything else was calm and unmoved around; the deep and solemn roar,
echoing from many a rocky cavern, rose amid the crashing spray that sent
up a thin veil of mist, through which the setting sun was reflected in
many a bright rainbow. It was indeed a glorious sight, and we stopped
for several minutes gazing on it; when suddenly Louisa, letting go my
arm, exclaimed, as she pointed downwards--
'See, see the swell beneath that large black rock yonder! The tide is
making fast; we must get quickly down if you wish to test St. Senan's
power.'
I had no time left me to ask what peculiar virtues the saint dispensed
through the mediation of his well, when she broke from my side and
hurried down the steep descent. In a moment we had reached the shore,
upon which already the tide was fast encroaching, and had marked with
its dark stain the yellow sand within a few feet of the well. As we drew
nearer, I perceived the figure of an old woman hent with age, who seemed
busily occupied sprinkling the water of the spring over something that,
as I came closer, seemed like a sailor's jacket. She was repeating
some words rapidly to herself; but on hearing our approach, she quickly
collected her bundle together under her remnant of a cloak, and sat
waiting our approach in silence.
'It's Molly Ban!' said Louisa suddenly, and growing pale as she spoke.
'Give her something, if you have any money, I beseech you.'
There was no opportunity for inquiring further about her now, for the
old woman slowly rose from the stone by the aid of a stick, and stood
confronting us. Her figure was singularly short, scarce four feet in
height; but her head was enormously large, and her features, which were
almost terrific in ugliness, were swarthy as a gypsy's. A man's hat was
fastened upon her head by a red kerchief which was knotted beneath her
chin; a short cloak of faded scarlet, like what the peasantry of the
west usually wear, covered her shoulders, beneath which a patched and
many-coloured petticoat appeared, that reached to the middle of her
legs, which, as well as her feet, were completely naked, giving the old
woman a look of wildness and poverty which I cannot attempt to convey.
The most singular part of her costume, however, was a rude collar she
wore round her neck of sea-shells, among which, here and there, I could
detect some bits of painted and gilded carving, like fragments of a
wreck. This strange apparition now stood opposite me, her dark eyes
fixed steadily on my companion, to whom, unlike the people of the
country, she never made the slightest reverence, or showed any semblance
of respect.
'And was it to spy after me, Miss Loo, ye brought down yer sweetheart
to the well this evening?' said the hag, in a harsh, grating voice, that
seemed the very last effort of some suppressed passion.
Louisa's arm grasped mine, and I could feel it tremble with agitation as
she whispered in my ear--
'Give her money quickly; I know her.'
'And is your father going to send me back to jail because the cattle's
got the rot amongst them? Ha, ha, ha!' said she, breaking into a wild,
discordant laugh. 'There will be more mourning than for that at Castle
Bellew before long.'
Louisa leaned against me, faint and almost falling, while drawing out my
purse hastily I held forth my hand full of silver. The old hag clutched
at it eagerly, and as her dark eyes flashed fire, she thrust the money
into a pocket at her side, and again broke out into a horrid laugh.
'So, you're beginnin' to know me, are ye? Ye won't mock Molly Ban now,
eh? No, 'faith, nor Mary Lafferty either, that turned me from the door
and shut it agin me. Where 'll her pride be to-morrow night, when they
bring in her husband a corpse to her? Look at that!'
With these words she threw her cloak on one side, and showed the blue
jacket of a fisherman which I had seen her sprinkling with the water as
we came up.
'The blue water will be his winding-sheet this night, calm as it is
now.'
'Oh, Molly dear, don't speak this way!'
'Molly dear!' echoed the beldame, in an accent of biting derision. 'Who
ever heerd one of your name call me that? Or are ye come for a charm
for that young man beside you? See, now! the sun's just gone; in a minit
more the sea 'll be in, and it'll be too late. Here, come near me! kneel
down there! kneel down, I say! or is it only my curse ye mind?'
'She's mad, poor thing,' said I, in my companion's ear. 'Let her have
her way; do as she bids you.'
Sinking with terror, pale as death, and trembling all over, Louisa bent
one knee upon the little rock beside the well, while the old hag took
her fair hand within her own skinny fingers and plunged it rudely in the
well.
'There, drink,' said the old woman, offering me the fair palm, through
which the clear water was running rapidly, while she chanted rather than
spoke the rude rhyme that follows--
'By the setting sun,
The flowing sea,
The waters that run,
I swear to thee
That my faith shall be true, at this moment now,
In weal or in woe, wherever or how:
So help me, Saint Senan, to keep my vow!'
The last words had scarcely been uttered when Louisa, who apparently had
been too much overcome by terror to hear one word the hag had muttered,
sprang up from the stone, her face and neck covered with a deep blush,
her lip trembling with agitation, while her eyes were fixedly directed
towards the old woman with an expression of haughty anger.
'Ay, ye may look as proud as ye like. It's little I mind ye, in love
or in hate. Ye are well humbled enough now. And as for you,' said she,
turning towards me a look of scornful pity--'you, I wish ye joy of your
fair sweetheart; let her only keep her troth like her own mother, and
ye'll have a happy heart to sit at your fireside with.'
[Illustration: 442]
The blood fled from Louisa's cheek as these words were uttered; a deadly
paleness spread over her features; her lips were bloodless and parted;
and her hands firmly clenched together and pressed against her side,
bespoke the agony of the moment. It lasted not longer; for she fell back
fainting and insensible into my arms. I bathed her face and temples
from the well; I called upon her, rubbed her hands within my own, and
endeavoured by every means to arouse her; but in vain. I turned to beg
for aid from the woman, but she was gone. I again endeavoured to awake
Louisa from her stupor, but she lay cold, rigid, and motionless; her
features had stiffened like a corpse, and showed no touch of life.
I shouted aloud for aid; but, alas! we were far from all human
habitations, and the wild cries of the curlew were the only sounds
that met my ear, or the deep rushing of the sea, as it broke nearer and
nearer to where I stood. A sudden pang of horror shot across me as I
looked around and below, and saw no chance of aid from any quarter.
Already the sun was below the horizon, and the grey twilight gave but
gloomy indications all around. The sea, too, was coming fast; the foam
had reached us, and even now the salt tide had mingled its water with
the little spring. No more time was to be lost. A projecting point of
rock intervened between us and the little path by which we had descended
to the beach; over this the spray was now splashing, and its base was
only to be seen at intervals between the advancing or retiring wave.
A low, wailing sound, like distant wind, was creeping over the water,
which from time to time was curled along the round-backed wave with all
the threatening aspect of a coming storm; the sea-birds wheeled round in
circles, waking the echoes with their wild notes, and the heavy swell
of the breaking sea roared through many a rocky cavern with a sad and
mournful melody. I threw one last look above, where the tall beetling
cliff was lost in the gloom of coming night, another on the broad bleak
ocean, and then, catching up my companion in my arms, set forward.
For the first few moments I felt not my burden. My beating heart
throbbed proudly, and as I pressed her to my bosom, how I nerved myself
for any coming danger by the thought that all the world to me lay in
my arms! Every step, however, brought me farther out; the sea, which
at first washed only to my ankles, now reached my knees; my step became
unsteady, and when for an instant I turned one look on her who lay still
and insensible within my grasp, I felt my head reel and my sight wander
as I again looked out on the dark water that rolled around us. We were
now near the rocky point which, once passed, placed us in safely; and to
reach this I summoned up every effort. Around this the waves had worn
a deeper track, and against its side they heat and lashed themselves to
foam, which boiled in broad sheets around. A loud cheer from some one
on the cliff above us turned my glance upwards, and I could see lights
moving backwards and forwards through the darkness; before I could reply
to the voice, however, a large wave came mantling near, gathering force
as it approached, and swelling its gigantic mass so as to shut out
all besides. I fixed myself firmly to resist the shock, and slightly
bending, opposed my shoulder to the mighty roll of water that now
towered like a wall above us. On it came, till its dark crest frowned
above our heads; for a second or two it seemed to pause, as the white
curl tipped its breaking edge, and then, with a roll like thunder, broke
over us. For an instant I held my footing; at length, however, my step
tottered; I felt myself lifted up, and then hurled headlong beneath
the swollen volume of water that closed above my head. Stunned, but
not senseless, I grasped my burden closer to my heart, and struggled to
regain my footing. The wave passed inwards as I rose to my feet, and
a sea of boiling foam hissed around me. Beyond, all was dim and
indistinct; a brooding darkness stretched towards the sea, and landward
the tall cliffs were wrapped in deep shadow, except when the light that
I had seen flitted from place to place, like the dancing wildfire. A
loud cheer from on high made me suppose that we were perceived; but my
attention was turned away by a low, moaning sound that came floating
over the water; and as I looked, I could see that the black surface
swelled upwards, as if by some mighty force beneath, and rose towering
into the air. The wave that now approached us was much greater than the
former one, and came thundering on as if impatient for its prey. My fear
was of being carried out to sea, and I looked hastily around for some
rocky point to hold on by; but in vain. The very sands beneath me seemed
moving and shifting; the voice of thunder was in my ears; my senses
reeled, and the thought of death by drowning, with all its agony, came
over me.
'Oh, my father! my poor father!' said a low, plaintive voice beside
my cheek; and the next instant the blood rushed warm to my heart. My
courage rallied; my arm grew nerved and strong; my footsteps seemed to
grasp the very ground, and with a bold and daring spirit I waited for
the coming shock. On it came, a mighty flood, sweeping high above us
as we struggled in the midst. The blue water moved on, unbroken; for a
moment or two I felt we were borne along with a whirlwind speed; then
suddenly we touched the strand--but only for a second, for the returning
wave came thundering back, and carried us along with it. My senses now
began to wander; the dark and gloomy sea stretched around us; the stars
seemed to flit to and fro; the roar of water and the sounds of human
voices were mingled in my ears; my strength, too, was failing me, and
I buffeted the waves with scarcely consciousness. Just at that moment,
when, all dread of danger past, the gloomy indifference to life was
fast succeeding, I saw a bright gleam of light flying rapidly across the
water; the shouts of voices reached me also, but the words I heard not.
Now falling beneath, now rising above the foamy surface, I struggled on,
with only strength to press home closer to my bosom the form of her my
heart was filled by, when of a sudden I felt my arm rudely grasped on
either side. A rope, too, was thrown around my waist, and I was hurried
inwards towards the shore amid cries of 'All safe! all safe! not too
fast, there!' A dreary indistinctness of what followed even still haunts
my mind. A huge wood-fire upon the beach, the figures of the fishermen,
the country-people passing hither and thither, the tumult of voices, and
a rude chair in which lay a pale, half-fainting form. The rest I know
not.
It was dark--so dark I could not see the persons that moved beside me.
As we passed along the grassy turf in silence, I held a soft hand in
mine, and a fair cheek rested on my shoulder, while masses of long
and dripping hair fell on my neck and bosom. Carried by two stout
peasant-fishermen in a chair, Louisa Bellew, faint but conscious of the
danger past, was borne homeward. I walked beside her, my heart too full
for words. A loud, wild cheer burst suddenly forth, and a bright gleam
of light aroused me from my trance of happiness. The steps were crowded
with people, the large hall so full we scarce could force our way. The
door of the parlour was now thrown open, and there sat the pale, gaunt
figure of Sir Simon Bellew--his eyes staring wildly, and his lips
parted; his hands resting on each arm of his chair--motionless.
Bursting from those that carried her, Louisa sprang towards her father
with a cry; but ere she reached his arms he had fallen from his seat to
his knees, and with his hands clasped above his head, and upturned eyes,
poured forth a prayer to God. Sinking to his side, she twined her hands
with his; and as if moved by the magic of the scene, the crowd fell to
their knees, and joined in the thanksgiving. It was a moment of deep and
touching feeling to hear the slow, scarce articulate words of that old
man, who turned from the sight of her his heart treasured to thank the
great Father of Mercy, who had not left him childless in his age--to
mark the low sobs of those around, as they strove to stifle them, while
tears coursed down the hard and weather-beaten cheeks of humble
poverty, as they muttered to themselves their heartfelt thanks for her
preservation. There was a pause; the old man turned his eyes upon his
child, and, like a dammed-up torrent breaking forth, the warm tears
gushed out, and with a cry of 'My own--my only one!' he fell upon her
neck and wept.
I could hear no more. Springing to my feet, I dashed through the hall,
and resisting every effort to detain me, rushed down the steps and
gained the lawn. Once there alone, I sank down upon the sward, and
poured forth my heart in tears of happiness.