CHAPTER IV.

A few days after the marriage, they bade adieu to the humble roof, which

had so many months afforded them a secure asylum; presenting the stock

on the farm, and the furniture, to the peasant, who, with his wife, had

proved themselves zealous and faithful servants.

By pleasant journeys, Sir Henry and his friends proceeded toward the

seat of Mr. Talton, which, as he had informed the Captain, adjoined to

the Corbet estate.--On approaching the Parsonage, Edward, who was

conversing with his father, checked the pace of his horse, and, pointing

it out to his observation, said,--"I can scarcely, my dear Sir, express

the pleasure I feel in this return to the scenes of my earlier days. How

often have I trodden the spot we are now passing, and plucked the wild

heath from its native soil--gayly carolling as the lark soaring over our

heads, unconscious of evil, and a stranger to sorrow! Here, too, the

worthy Blond, and my generous uncle, would often join Sir Henry and

myself, in our boyish amusements; and whilst we inhaled health from the

mountain breeze, would, from each object and incident, mix instruction

with our pastime. Here, too, I last beheld one of the fairest of

nature's creation----."

"Which circumstance," said the Captain, with a smile, "I believe, my

son, you remember with as much regret as pleasure. I have, Edward, from

the time I first beheld you, imagined your cheerfulness to be forced.

Your mother, too, has observed it; and I have wished for the

opportunity, which now offers, of inquiring the cause? Make me your

confident; nor think, in unbosoming yourself, it is to a rigid censor,

but to a father, whose anxiety for your happiness equals--and perhaps

exceeds your own."

"I doubt not your indulgence, my dear Sir," answered Edward, after a

slight hesitation: "your heart, I am certain, will afford an excuse for

the wanderings of mine. I have, as you justly observed, affected a

gaiety I am far from feeling, or hope ever again to experience."

"Can you despond," said the Captain still smiling, "with such an example

as the loves of your parents before you? But who is the fair-one, who

has thus gained your affections, and at the same time reduced you to

despair?--Is she above your hopes, or in a state of life too far beneath

you?"

"Your questions, my father," answered Edward, "add to my distress: I

know not who she is? Her state in life, if I may judge from her

appearance, is equal--if not superior--to my own."

"And when, Edward," asked the Captain more seriously, "did you first see

this object of your regard? Some acquaintance, I suppose, must have

existed--you could not, I imagine, become enamoured merely from seeing a

fair face?"

"My acquaintance," said Edward, "if it deserve that epithet, with this

truly beloved girl, began nearly three years since. I was returning,

with some of my fellow-collegians, from an evening's excursion, toward

our college; when a horse, on which was a lady, approached with a

rapidity fright only could occasion: the impulse of humanity hurried me

to her assistance: I caught at the rein, at the moment when,

overpowered by terror, she quitted her hold, and fell senseless to the

ground. I failed in my attempt to stop the affrighted animal, who darted

along with the utmost velocity; but fortunately so far broke the fall of

his lovely burthen, that she received no material hurt. I raised her

from the ground, and recollection was returning, when a gentleman,

followed by his servant, rode up to us; but, to my great astonishment,

instead of expressing any concern at the accident, or inquiring if the

lovely object I held in my arms had sustained any injury, he broke into

violent exclamations of rage at her mismanagement of her steed, and

declared she would only have received her due reward, if she had broken

her neck! I could not listen to him with patience, but sharply told

him--I should have supposed he designed her to meet the fate he had

mentioned, by his trusting her on an animal, more fit for the hands of a

horse-breaker than a lady.

"'And who, Sir,' he vociferated, 'asked your opinion of the matter?

Cease your impertinence, or talk to your fellows! For you, Madam, you

shall ride this horse for six months to come: and, if you dare, repeat

this day's behaviour!'

"He then commanded the servant to ride after the horse; in the mean time

I endeavoured to encourage the weeping girl, who, however, was too much

terrified by the menaces of her father, for such he was, to pay much

attention to me.

"The horse had been stopped by some farmers; and, on the servant's

returning with it, her father peremptorily commanded her to

re-mount.--'Dear--dear father,' she cried, wringing her hands, 'do not

insist on it;--pray let me walk.'

"'Get up this instant,' he replied, 'and do not irritate me, or my whip

shall enforce your obedience!'--He was going to execute his threat, when

I lifted his trembling daughter on the saddle, and, taking hold of the

bridle, told my companions I would soon rejoin them, then, begging her

to dispel her apprehensions, for I would guide her horse, led it by the

side of her father's.

"She looked her thanks for my care, whilst a faint smile played through

her tears; nor was my precaution useless, as the frequent starts of the

frightened animal plainly showed he would again have hurried his lovely

mistress into danger, if he had not been restrained by a more powerful

hand.

"Her father, as his passion subsided, I believe, became more conscious

of her danger; for when we had proceeded nearly a mile, he stopped, and,

alighting, commanded the servant to change the saddles; the man obeyed

with alacrity, and in a few minutes had the satisfaction of seeing her

on her father's horse; that gentleman mounting the runaway steed; then,

with more politeness than I expected from his preceding behaviour, he

thanked me for the attention I had shown his daughter: and wishing me

good evening, bowed and proceeded on his way. I remained on the spot, my

eyes directed after them, till they quitted the road, when I slowly

retraced my way to the college.

"This incident remained, with the image of the lovely girl, impressed

for some time on my mind; but in vain I visited every place of public

amusement, or inquired amongst my acquaintance, no one knew the person I

described.

"Time had nearly effaced the circumstance from my mind, when I received

my mother's letter, enjoining me to return to the Parsonage. I obeyed,

and, the day after my arrival, was going to the cottage of Owen, for the

purpose of meeting Thomas, when, on approaching the spot we have now

passed, I beheld three females, and as many children; one, who appeared

by her dress to be superior to the others, was seated on a ridge of

rock, caressing the infants; one appeared a servant, and the other, by

the loudness of her exclamations and thanks, I discovered to be an

object of charity, whom the beneficence of the first had relieved. I

approached, and with surprise beheld the features of her I had formerly

assisted; but, gracious Heaven, how was every charm improved! She as

instantly recalled me to remembrance, and, with a blush which heightened

every beauty, rose to return my salutation. At that moment I forgot the

purport of my walk--my mother--all but the lovely object before me. In

answer to my expressions of surprise, at meeting her in such an

unfrequented place, she informed me, she was on a visit to a relation of

her mother, who resided not more than two miles off; then, in terms as

elegant as language could express, or gratitude inspire, she thanked me

for the assistance I had formerly afforded her; enumerated each little

circumstance of the adventure, and again repeated her thanks. They led

to other subjects: the woman and her children retired toward the

village, and the time passed imperceptibly, till her maid warned her it

was time to return to the house of her friend. I would have escorted

her; but she declined my offer, adding--'As I informed you, I am under

the care of a relation, whose ideas of propriety are too rigidly severe,

to let her pardon such a liberty, should I grant it: and I think you,

who so humanely saved my life, would not wish, even for a moment, to

render that life unpleasant or unhappy.'

"I could urge no farther, and with a smile which nearly compensated for

her refusal, she presented her hand as she bade me farewell.--My peace

fled with her! Each look, each word, her vivacity, the animation which

sparkled in her eyes, were all impressed on my heart--and too deeply to

be ever effaced!

"The moment she disappeared from my sight, I regretted that I had not

asked her name; hope, however, whispered I might soon again behold her,

and, after vainly endeavouring to catch a glimpse of her between the

distant trees, I recalled to mind the cottage of Owen, to which I then

directed my steps. Thomas soon joined me, and with the highest

exultation of joy, informed me he had obtained the will of my deceased

uncle! I hugged the worthy old man in my arms, and with quicker steps

than I went, returned with him to the Parsonage.

"The transports of my mother and Mrs. Blond nearly equalled those of

Thomas, and joyfully did we anticipate the return of Sir Henry, and his

restoration to the honours of his house: but short-lived was our

promised happiness! The next morning Thomas returned, and with the

bitterest exclamations of sorrow, delivered the account of his death.

"Wretched indeed were the moments which succeeded this intelligence;

for, in him, we had lost our only protector against the wiles of Lady

Corbet: the return of Mr. Talton added to our apprehensions, and the

next morning we privately quitted the Parsonage. My expectation and hope

of again beholding this enchanting girl, were thus destroyed: in my mind

she is ever present; but, from that period I have never beheld her."

"Your heart, Edward," said the Captain after a pause, "I am afraid, has

been too susceptible: yet my love for your mother was as sudden, and

equalled that of yours for this fair Unknown. You are, however, returned

to the most probable place to gain intelligence of her; if, as she said,

she have relations residing so near Mr. Talton. Seek and inquire after

her; and if you find--and she prove worthy of you, neither fortune, nor

your father's consent, shall be wanted to ensure your happiness."

Edward thanked his father with a vivacity he had rarely before shown;

adding--"Often have I wished to acquaint my mother with my predilection

for this Unknown, and intreat her permission to seek her; but, the

difficulties we have been involved in, her fear of being discovered,

and her superior fear that I should quit her maternal arms to seek a

father (whom I knew not, till the report of Sir Henry's death, to be in

existence), has repeatedly checked the confidence I ever designed to

place in her."

They continued conversing, till Mr. Talton inquired the cause of their

desertion; when they hastened to rejoin him, and soon after arrived at

the seat of that gentleman; where they received intelligence that Lady

Corbet had returned to the Hall the preceding day.

She had, indeed, been informed, when near London, by a gentleman, whom

she accidentally met, and who was personally acquainted with Sir Henry,

of his seeing him at Bristol with Captain Howard; she, therefore, gave

up the idea of going to London, and immediately proceeded to Bristol,

where she learned, the Captain had some time since gone on an excursion

into the country; but to what part no one could inform her. Perplexed at

this account, and fatigued with her journey, she resigned her first

intention of pursuing Sir Henry, and resolved to return to the Hall; as

the vigilance of Mr. Talton, she doubted not, would soon recover her

son, without her immediate assistance in the search. To her great

astonishment, a few days after, she was informed Sir Henry was a

visitant at Mr. Talton's; and, unable to reconcile the circumstance with

that gentleman's professions of attachment to herself, wrote to him, to

request the favour of an interview.

"I shall certainly comply with her Ladyship's desire," said Mr. Talton,

on perusing her note; "as I hope, by alarming her with a pretended

recourse to justice, I shall induce her to resign the estates of Sir

Henry; and, as witnesses may be proper, shall beg the attendance of you,

Howard, and Lieutenant Booyers."

These gentlemen readily assented; but before they were prepared for

their departure, perceived her Ladyship's equipage advancing up the

avenue. Sir Henry started on beholding it.

"Would to Heaven," he cried, "this interview were over! I think, Mr.

Talton, I had better retire."

"Louise, my love," said Harland, "let me conduct you to your apartment.

Your pallid looks convince me, an interview with your mother ought not

now to take place."

"No, Harland," answered Louise, "let me stay. Long have I ardently

wished to be blessed with the sight of her who gave me being; to hear

the voice of a parent, though circumstances forbid my hoping to receive

a blessing: then, I entreat you, let me stay. Believe me, if I tremble,

it is for her; unprepared to answer so serious an accusation; to meet

those she has so greatly injured!"

Harland reluctantly consented.

"You can stay, my dear girl," said Mrs. Blond; "but, as my presence is

not necessary, I shall beg leave to accompany Sir Henry:" and a servant

then announcing the arrival of their visitant, she took Sir Henry by the

arm, and hastily quitted the room.

With that innate elegance which marked her demeanour, Lady Corbet

entered the drawing-room: the appearance of such an unexpected party,

for a moment checked the smile which played on her lips; but, quickly

recovering herself, she informed Mr. Talton of the report which had

reached her, and begged to know if Sir Henry were actually under his

roof, or if it were the appearance of the youth she beheld, which gave

rise to the rumour?

"I do not wonder at your Ladyship's perceiving the resemblance of

Captain Howard's son to Sir Henry," said Mr. Talton; "it is indeed an

uncommon one. But this young gentleman is too well known in these parts,

although you, Madam, never before beheld him, to be mistaken for Sir

Henry, who, as you have been informed, is certainly in my house. It was

my intention to have waited on your Ladyship, as I have a circumstance

of some importance to unfold: the present period, however, may answer as

well; and, as Sir Henry has chosen me his joint-guardian with Captain

Howard, we will, if you please, come to the point at once."

Lady Corbet bowed, and Mr. Talton continued--"Disagreeable is the task I

have imposed on myself: but, as I think it my duty to make reparation,

as far as lies in my power, for the injuries I have, however

unintentionally, committed; your Ladyship must pardon me for espousing a

cause, which will prove so detrimental to yourself."

"I cannot comprehend, Mr. Talton," interrupted Lady Corbet, "to what you

allude; and will thank you to come, as you said, to the point at once.

My son, you inform me, has chosen you his guardian: I would wish to know

from what motive; or what induced you to accept the trust?"

"To reinstate him in his rights, Lady Corbet," answered Mr. Talton; "of

which, I am sorry to say, you have deprived him."

"This is an accusation, Sir," said Lady Corbet, haughtily rising, "you

have no right to make; and an insult I did not expect from you."

"I do not wish to discompose you, Madam," said Mr. Talton, coolly; "pray

be seated. This accusation, though of a most serious nature, is not the

only one I have to offer. Injuries designed against myself I can pardon;

but, not those you wished to make me the instrument of committing toward

others. But this is deviating from the principal charge--your Ladyship,

I presume, is conscious the will produced, and by which you hold the

possessions of the late Sir Henry, is a false one?"

"I can now pardon the treatment I have received," answered Lady Corbet,

recovering her composure. "My unhappy son, I perceive, has been relating

a tale, originating in his own distempered imagination: yet, surely, you

might have acted with greater delicacy, than to accuse me thus in

company, even had you, my friend, supposed the improbable account to be

true."

"It is past supposition, Lady Corbet," said Mr. Talton: "proofs have

confirmed its truth. As for Sir Henry being insane, the idea is absurd:

although, I acknowledge, the treatment he received at your hands, was

more than sufficient to have deprived an indifferent person of their

senses, much less a son, who ought to have expected a different conduct

in his mother!"

"Conduct!" repeated Lady Corbet. "I know not, Sir, what you would

insinuate: but my conduct as a mother, and in every respect, will bear

any scrutiny you can make!"

"It must soon be brought to the proof," said Mr. Talton; "though I

greatly fear it will not stand the test!"

"What mean you, Sir!" exclaimed Lady Corbet, exalting her voice. "I

would not have you imagine, because I have demeaned myself, by

permitting an intimacy, that you are authorised to treat me with this

freedom! Lady Corbet, Sir, believe me, will not be insulted with

impunity!"

"Have you not deserved this treatment, Lady Corbet?" asked Mr. Talton

solemnly. "Nay more!--Look round this circle--here are more than one to

prove the injustice of your conduct. This Lady, you falsely informed me,

your husband kept previously to his marriage--an abandoned mistress:

and, as such, did you not drive his sister destitute on the

world?--Demeaned by my acquaintance!--There sits a living proof of that

existing between yourself and the Steward of your father. This young

lady was left an infant at Rennes, nearly twenty years since, by

Mallet; and is, as I have been informed, the daughter of her whom I am

now addressing, and entitled to the sum of thirty thousand pounds,

bequeathed in trust to you, by the late Miss Louisa Holly! I mention

these circumstances, Madam, just to convince you--"

"Spare--spare my mother!" shrieked Louise, wringing her hands, "I want

no fortune! Force not a parent's curses on my head!"

"Compose yourself, my Louise," said the alarmed Harland; "and let

consideration for your husband calm these transports!"--But, breaking

from his arms, she threw herself at the feet of the apparently

horror-stricken Lady Corbet; clasped her hand to her bosom, and, faintly

murmuring--"Oh my mother!" sunk insensible on the floor.

She was immediately conveyed from the room by her husband, followed by

Mrs. Howard, Ellen, and Eliza. Mr. Talton's agitation, which he in vain

strove to conquer, prevented his immediately proceeding; but, the

Captain perceiving Lady Corbet recovering from her surprise, said,

"I believe, Madam, you will no longer wonder at Mr. Talton's becoming,

with me, the guardian of your son; who, at length, has consented to

commit his cause to the decision of justice: and, the ensuing term, will

commence a suit, which, I am afraid, will render you an object of

abhorrence in every worthy heart."

"And who art thou?" asked Lady Corbet, scornfully, "or by what right

dare you impute these crimes to me--or threaten me with an appeal to

justice? The estates--the property I hold--are mine; nor can you deprive

me of them. By the will of my husband I hold them; and, protected by the

law, I will enjoy them!"

"The will you hold them by, Madam," repeated Mr. Talton, "is a false

one! and so it shall be proved, to your utter confusion!"

"Assuredly," cried Lady Corbet, "I ought to discredit my senses, which

tell me it is Talton who addresses me; or, you, perhaps, my good friend,

are affected by the phantasms of your new ward! I can prove him insane

from the evidence of my servants; think then, what weight his accusation

will have in a court of judicature!--But, if the will, which awarded

this property to me, be false--where, Sir, is the real one?--Produce

it!--and by that, if you can, prove the illegality of my tenure!"

"As I told you, Madam," said Talton, "neither proofs--nor witnesses,

substantial ones too, are wanting. To oblige Sir Henry, who does not

forget you are his mother, though you have proved unmindful of that tie,

I should have waited on you, that you might not be unprepared for the

charge: for there are many circumstances, too tedious to be now

discussed, which must be explained in a court of justice! The real will

of the late Sir Henry is found, and now in my possession: from whence it

will pass to that of the Lord Chancellor; together with a packet,

likewise of your husband's writing, containing an account of your

proceedings and conversations with your favourite, Mallet; which he

overheard, by means of a closet in the private room adjoining your

apartment; and by which means, the present Sir Henry is likewise well

informed of every artifice you have used to make him appear insane, and

your intentions to have destroyed the will, could you have discovered

it!"

He was prevented from proceeding, by the horror which appeared in the

countenance of Lady Corbet. An universal trembling seized her frame,

and, had not the Captain supported her, she would have sunk on the

floor: he replaced her on the settee, and when she had in some degree

recovered from this agitation of guilt and fear, he said:--"A candid

confession on your part, Lady Corbet, with the restoration of the

property bequeathed Sir Henry, by his father, are the only means to

avoid the ruin which threatens you. It is not my wish, nor Mr. Talton's,

far less Sir Henry's, to bring his mother to a public trial; but

justice, either by your hand or ours, shall be rendered him! If you

refuse to afford it him--all shall be discovered!"

"All is discovered!" cried Lady Corbet, distractedly. "But never shall

Henry triumph over me, in a court of justice! No--sooner shall my own

hand plunge me into eternity!"

"Little are you prepared for so serious a change," said Talton. "You may

fly from the accusations of a son, but would meet those of a husband,

injured in every respect, before a Being from whom there is no escape:

and whose justice, though blended with mercy, is equal to his power!

Rather, Lady Corbet, endeavour to atone for your past actions, and by a

life of repentance, seek that mercy, you at present so little deserve!"

This address, delivered in a manner, equally solemn and affecting,

appeared to increase the horror of Lady Corbet.

"Louise, too;" she faintly articulated;--"would I had not seen her! But

no matter, there is still a resource!"--She burst into tears; then,

after a moment's pause, hastily continued--"I presume, Sir, you have

nothing farther to communicate, and I am now at liberty to depart?"

Mr. Talton bowed, and ringing the bell, Lady Corbet, in a state

approaching nearly to derangement, followed the servant to her carriage,

and returned to the Hall.

The Mysterious Wanderer, Vol. III A Novel in Three Volumes · 第 4 / 6 章