“To the lake with this; and, here, take some of these:
And mingle some that grow upon the brink,
And mar the sod. I’ll bear the body hence.”
… “He is cold—Oh, he is dead!”
For once the bagpipes were not played under the windows of Arandale
Castle at ten; indeed it was nearer twelve when the well known sounds
were heard.
Yet late as was the hour, Edmund did not appear at the breakfast table.
His adventure of the night before with the ruffian who had obtained
admittance in the disguise of a juggler, having been mentioned by Lord
Arandale to Lady Arandale; by her Ladyship to Mrs. Morven; by Mrs.
Morven to the General; by the people on the grounds, who had witnessed a
part of the business, to all the servants; and by the servants to their
respective masters and mistresses, it was now universally talked of. By
those we mean, who could talk; some there were, who could not trust their
lips with the utterance of a single syllable. Who could thus desire the
amiable Edmund’s destruction, baffled all conjecture.
There was but one rational supposition, the Earl said. The villain must
have been employed by some one acquainted with those concealed facts,
which had hitherto surrounded their young friend’s fate with mystery;
some one whose interest would materially suffer by the development of
that mystery; while at the same time there was most probably some event
about to take place, which threatened to produce that development.
“Then, Edmund must be still in danger!” exclaimed Frances, starting
upright from her seat, and clasping her hands. Julia sat trembling, and
as pale as death; but neither moved nor spoke. The butler entered with
rolls. He was asked if he could be certain that no one had been admitted
without a ticket. He was quite certain! He had, himself, taken the ticket
of each person who passed the first hall. Even the little pedlar had
presented a card, which, happening to be of similar dimensions to the
tickets, he, the butler, unfortunately, had not examined at the time; and
which, when examined afterwards, proved to be one belonging to the man’s
shop in Bath. This was the only ticket which was not correct, of the full
number issued. It was strange! Tickets had not been given to any friends
to give to friends of theirs; with the exception of a very few to Edmund
himself, and to Henry, for naval officers of their acquaintance.
When the subject had been thus discussed, in all its bearings, the Earl,
who still looked serious, and even melancholy, said, “I am not sorry
that Captain Montgomery has taken Arthur with him; it would have been a
sad scene for the poor little fellow! Our friend, Sir Archibald Oswald,”
he added, after a solemn pause, and looking round the company, “is no
more! The state of his mind will, I trust, acquit him in the eyes of
heaven, as it undoubtedly must in the judgment of men; but, there is
reason to fear that our unhappy friend has been accessary to his own
death. His body was yesterday found in the lake by the work people who
were preparing for the illuminations. Duncan very properly suppressed the
circumstance, till he had communicated it privately to me; and I judged
it best to permit the entertainment offered to our friends to proceed,
without checking the pleasure of the company by the introduction of so
melancholy a subject.”
Miss Morven thought that Mr. St. Aubin was certainly a very amiable
young man: he showed so much feeling. He actually turned quite pale, when
her uncle mentioned, Sir Archibald’s body being found in the lake.
Many of course were the exclamations of pity and surprise. “It will
be quite a change of scene,” continued the Earl, “I must send for the
proper persons; and, if their verdict is, as I have no doubt it will be,
insanity, I must give my poor friend a suitable funeral.”