A strong bull stands, threat'ning furious war:
He flourishes his horns, looks sourly round,
And, hoarsely bellowing, traverses his ground.
BLACKMORE.
It was on the second day after the arrival of Seymour, that Emily, who
was not aware of the addition to the party at the cottage, proceeded on
foot through the park and field adjacent, to pay Susan a visit. She was
attended by a man-servant in livery, who carried some books, which Mrs
McElvina had expressed a desire to read. When Emily had arrived at the
last field, which was rented by a farmer hard by, she was surprised to
perceive that it was occupied by an unpleasant tenant, to wit, a large
bull; who, on their approach, commenced pawing the ground, and showing
every symptom of hostility. She quickened her pace, and as the animal
approached, found that she had gained much nearer to the stile before
her than to the one which she had just passed over, and frightened as
she was, she determined to proceed. The servant who accompanied her
manifested more fear than she did. As the bull approached, Emily, who
had heard what precautions should be taken in a similar exigence, turned
her face towards the animal, and walked backwards to the stile. The
domestic seemed determined to preserve the exact station which his duty
and respect required, and kept himself behind his young mistress. As,
however, the bull advanced, and seemed inclined to charge upon them, his
fears would not permit him to remain in that situation, and throwing
down the books, he took to his heels, and ran for a gap in the hedge.
By this manoeuvre, Emily was left to make any arrangements she pleased
with the infuriated animal.
But the bull had no quarrel with a lady, dressed in a white muslin
frock; he had taken offence at the red plush inexpressibles, which were
a part of the family livery, and immediately ran at the servant, passing
Emily without notice. The terrified man threw himself in an agony of
fright into the gap, but was so paralysed with fear that he had no
strength to force his passage through. With his head and shoulders on
the other side of the hedge, there he stuck on his hands and knees,
offering a fair target to the bull, who flew at it with such violence,
that he forced him several yards in the opposite field. Senseless and
exhausted, he lay there more from fear than injury, while the roaring
bull paced up and down the hedge, with his tail in the air, attempting
in vain to force a passage in pursuit of the object of his detestation.
The mind of woman is often more powerful than her frame; and the one
will bear up against circumstances in which the other will succumb.
Thus it was with Emily, who reached the stile, clambered over it with
difficulty, and attaining the house of McElvina, which was but a few
yards distant, felt that her powers failed her as soon as exertion was
no longer required. With difficulty she perceived with her swimming
eyes that there was a gentleman in the parlour; and faintly exclaiming,
"O! Mr McElvina!" fell senseless into the arms of William Seymour.
Mr and Mrs McElvina were not at home: they had walked to the vicarage;
and Seymour, who was very busy finishing a sketch of the _Aspasia_ for
his hostess, had declined accompanying them in their visit. His
surprise at finding a young lady in his arms, may easily be imagined;
but, great as was his surprise, his distress was greater, from the
extreme novelty of the situation. It was not that he was unaccustomed
to female society: on the contrary, his captain had introduced him
everywhere in the different ports of the colonies in which they had
anchored; and perhaps there is no better society, although limited, than
is to be met with at the table of a colonial governor, but here it was
quite different. He had been habituated to follow in the wake, as the
lady governess made sail for the dining-room, the whole fleet forming
two lines abreast in close order, and then coming to an anchor, in
beautiful precision, to attack the dinner, which surrendered at
discretion. He had been habituated to the ball-room, where the ladies
glided over the chalked floor, like so many beautiful yachts plying in
Southampton Water on a fine day: he had tired his rate of sailing down
the middle of a country dance with some fair partner; and tacked and
wore as required to the mazes of poussette and right and left. This was
all plain sailing; but the case was now quite different. Here was a
strange sail, who had not even shown her number, taken aback in stays,
and on her beam-ends in a squall.
Seymour knew nothing about fainting. Sometimes a man had fits on board
a ship (although invariably discharged when it was known); but the only
remedy, in a man-of-war, in such cases, was to lay the patient down
between the guns, and let him come-to at his own leisure. It was
impossible to act so in this case; and Seymour, as he bent over the
beautiful pale countenance of Emily, felt that he never could be tired
of holding her in his arms. However, as it was necessary that something
should be done, he laid her down on the sofa, and seizing the bell-rope,
pulled it violently for assistance. The wire had been previously
slackened, and the force which Seymour used brought down the rope
without ringing the bell. There was but one in the room: and, not
choosing to leave Emily, he was again compelled to rely on his own
resources. What was good for her? Water? There was none in the room,
except what he had been painting with, and that was desperately
discoloured with the Indian ink. Nevertheless, he snatched up his large
brush which he used for washing-in his skies, and commenced painting her
face and temples with the discoloured water; but without producing the
desired effect of re-animation.
What next?--Oh, salts and burnt feathers; he had read of them in a
novel. Salts he had none--burnt feathers were to be procured. There
were two live birds, called cardinals, belonging to Mrs McElvina, in a
cage near the window, and there was also a stuffed green parrot in a
glass case. Seymour showed his usual presence of mind in his decision.
The tails of the live birds would in all probability grow again; that of
the stuffed parrot never could. He put his hand into the cage, and
seizing the fluttering proprietors, pulled out both their long tails,
and having secured the door of the cage, thrust the ends of the feathers
into the fire, and applied them, frizzing and spluttering, to the
nostrils of Emily. But they were replaced in the fire again and again,
until they would emit no more smoke, and Emily still continued in a
state of insensibility. There was no help for it--the parrot, which he
knew Mrs McElvina was partial to, must be sacrificed. A blow with the
poker demolished the glass, and the animal was wrenched off its perch,
and the tail inserted between the bars of the grate. But burnt feathers
were of no use; and Seymour, when he had burnt down the parrot's tail to
the stump, laid it upon the table in despair.
He now began to be seriously alarmed, and the beauty of the object
heightened his pity and commiseration. His anxiety increased to that
degree that, losing his presence of mind, and giving way to his
feelings, he apostrophised the inanimate form, and, hanging over it with
the tenderness of a mother over her lifeless child, as a last resource,
kissed its lips again and again with almost frantic anxiety. At the
time of his most eager application of this last remedy, McElvina and
Susan entered the room, without his being aware of their approach.
The parrot on the table, with his tail still burning like a slow match,
first caught their eyes: and as they advanced further in, there was
Seymour, to their astonishment, kissing a young lady to whom he had
never been introduced, and who appeared to be quite passive to his
endearments.
"Seymour!" cried McElvina,--"what is all this?"
"I'm glad you've come; I cannot bring her to. I've tried everything."
"So it appears. Why, you've smothered her--she's black in the face,"
replied McElvina, observing the marks of the Indian ink upon Emily's
cheek.
Susan, who immediately perceived the condition of Emily, applied her
salts, and desired McElvina to call the women. In a few minutes,
whether it was that the remedies were more effectual, or nature had
resumed her powers, Emily opened her eyes, and was carried upstairs into
Mrs McElvina's room.
We must return to the servant, who, with no other injury than a severe
contusion of the Os coccygis, from the frontal bone of the bull,
recovered his senses and his legs at the same moment, and never ceased
exerting the latter until he arrived at --- Hall, where he stated, what
indeed he really believed to be the case, that Miss Emily had been gored
to death by the bull; asserting, at the same time, what was equally
incorrect, that he had nearly been killed himself in attempting her
rescue. The tidings were communicated to Mrs Rainscourt, who, frantic
at the intelligence, without bonnet or shawl, flew down the park towards
the fields, followed by all the servants of the establishment, armed
with guns, pitchforks, and any other weapons that they could obtain, at
the moment of hurry and trepidation. They arrived at the field--the
bull was there, waiting for them at the stile, for he had observed them
at a distance, and as he was now opposed to half a dozen pair of
inexpressibles, instead of one, his wrath was proportionally increased.
He pawed the ground, bellowed, and made divers attempts to leap the
stile, which, had he effected, it is probable that more serious mischief
would have occurred. The whole party stood aghast, while Mrs
Rainscourt screamed, and called for her child--her child; and attempted
to recover her liberty, from the arms of those who held her, and rush
into the field to her own destruction.
The farmer to whom the animal belonged had heard his bellowing on the
first assault, and had come out to ascertain the cause. He was just in
time to behold the footman pushed through the hedge, and to witness the
escape of Emily into the house of McElvina. Intending to remove the
animal, he returned to his dinner, when his resumed bellowing summoned
him again, and perceiving the cause, he joined the party, and,
addressing Mrs Rainscourt, "The young lady is all safe, ma'am, in the
gentleman's house yonder. The brute's quiet enough it's all along of
them red breeches that angers him. A bull can't abide 'em, ma'am."
"Safe, do you say? Thank God. Oh! take me to her."
"This way, ma'am, then," said the farmer, leading her round the hedge to
the cottage of McElvina, by a more circuitous way.
Susan had just called up McElvina, and Seymour was again left to himself
in the parlour, when Mrs Rainscourt, bursting from those who conducted
her, tottered in, and sank exhausted on the sofa. Seymour, to whom the
whole affair was a mystery, and who had been ruminating upon it, and
upon the sweet lips which he had pressed, in utter astonishment, cried
out, "What! another?" Not choosing, in this instance, to trust to his
own resources, he contented himself with again shoving the parrot's tail
between the bars, and as he held it to his patient's nose, loudly called
out for McElvina, who, summoned by his appeals, with many others entered
the room, and relieved him of his charge, who soon recovered, and joined
her daughter in the room upstairs.
The carriage had been sent for to convey Mrs Rainscourt and her
daughter home. When they came down into the parlour, previous to their
departure, Seymour was formally introduced, and received the thanks of
Mrs Rainscourt for the attention which he had paid to her daughter and
a general invitation to the hall.
Emily, to whom Susan had communicated the panacea to which Seymour had
ultimately resorted, blushed deeply as she smiled her adieus; and our
hero, as the carriage whirled away, felt a sensation as new to him as
that of Cymon, when ignited by the rays of beauty which flashed from the
sleeping Iphigenia.