Suddenly rose from the South a light, as in autumn the blood red
Moon climbs the crystal walls of Heaven, and o'er the horizon,
Titan-like, stretches its hundred hands upon mountains and meadow,
Seizing the rocks and the rivers, and piling huge shadows together.
LONGFELLOW.
Why flames the far summit? why shoot to the blast,
Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast?
'Tis the fire-shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven
From his eyrie, that beacons the darkness of Heaven.
Oh crested Lochrel! the peerless in might,
Heaven's fire is around thee, to blast and to burn;
Return to thy dwelling, all lonely, return,
For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood.
CAMPBELL.
It was with a numbed and dreary sense of bruised and outraged feeling
that Mary--the last fibre of mistaken partiality torn from her
heart--the last atom of her false idol crumbled into dust, lay down upon
her bed that night.
She had lain there perhaps an hour, when the loud ringing of the
hall-door aroused her from the state of dreamy stupor which was stealing
over her.
Her first supposition was that her cousin Louis had returned. Then the
hasty-ascending footstep of the servant, the quick knocking at the door
of Mrs. de Burgh's dressing-room, from which the chamber appointed for
Mary was not far removed; the hasty communication then given, the loud
and agitated voice of Eugene in reply, his impetuous rush down stairs
and from the house--as the banging of the hall-door made her aware--led
her rather to conclude that some intelligence of peculiar importance,
perhaps relating to the illness of old Mr. Trevor, had been received
from Montrevor.
The next moment Mrs. de Burgh's bell rang violently, and very soon after
her maid entered Mary's apartment, begging Miss Seaham to go immediately
to Mrs. de Burgh.
* * * * *
Montrevor was on fire! Mr. Eugene Trevor had been sent for. Mrs. de
Burgh was greatly agitated.
Pale and horror-stricken, Mary hastened to obey the summons. She found
her cousin with her sofa pushed towards the window, gazing in strong
excitement on the red glare, now again plainly visible in the distance,
and so fearfully accounted for.
"Gracious heavens, Mary, is not this terrible! the poor old place.
Eugene has gone off distracted, not knowing whether he will find the
whole house consumed; as for the wretched old man, God only knows what
has become of him! it did not seem that the messenger brought any sure
tidings of his safety. How dreadful if he were to perish in the flames!"
"Dreadful, indeed!" murmured Mary; but she was no match for her cousin's
volubility. She sank down shivering by her side, her eyes fixed in
appalled bewilderment on the awful sign written in the heavens--sign, as
it were, of the judgment and fiery indignation which is to devour the
adversary.
They sat there long intent upon the anxious watch, though little was to
be gleaned from that flickering and unconstant glare, now deepening,
now dying into comparative darkness, but that the fire was still in
existence.
Mrs. de Burgh had ordered some of her servants to follow Eugene, and
render any assistance in their power; one was to return immediately with
intelligence. In the meantime she entreated Mary not to leave her, a
petition which poor Mary, in her present state of mind, was not inclined
to resist.
Coffee was brought up to revive their strength and spirits, during the
two hours which at least must elapse before the messenger could arrive,
and wrapping Mary in a warm shawl, the weary interval of suspense passed
away as quickly as could be expected. It was over at last. The servant
returned. Mrs. de Burgh had him up to the dressing-room to hear the
account from his own lips.
In a few words the man related, that one entire wing of the house had
been past recovery when the party arrived from Silverton, or before any
effectual assistance could be procured. It was the wing containing the
private library of Mr. Trevor; there it was supposed the fire had broken
out and made some way before discovered by the household.
The catastrophe was supposed to have originated in some way from Mr.
Trevor, as he was missing in his own apartment; and it was feared that
he had perished in the flames, as he had been known to have some nights
before crept stealthily from his bed-room to the study. It did not
appear that any of the servants had been sufficiently courageous to
attempt his rescue, and of course now all hope of saving the unfortunate
old man was at an end, the flames having communicated with the adjoining
passages before the alarm was given, though even then Mr. Eugene Trevor
had seemed almost inclined to pierce the flames in that direction, so
great was his horror at the intelligence.
Mrs. de Burgh at this awful communication fell into a fit of hysterical
weeping, whilst Mary, pale as death, speechless, tearless with emotion,
sat with her eyes raised and her hands clasped together. "Thoughts too
deep for tears" stirred up within her breast--thoughts of death,
judgment, and eternity.
How terrible indeed the retribution which had fallen upon the head of
that sinful old man. How mighty and terrible the hand which might be
said to have taken up the cause of the oppressed, and stopped the way
of the ungodly!
* * * * *
Fearfully vivid was the light which guided Eugene Trevor on his course,
as like a demon of the night he dashed through the darkness--his
neighing, foaming steed bearing him far onward before the party
following him from Silverton.
The conflagration lighted the country many miles around, and fierce was
the effort the distracted rider had to make to force the frightened
animal to proceed.
When entering the grounds, the flames shone through the leafless trees
full upon his path, his dilated nostrils inhaled at every breath air
heated like a furnace; and bleeding, panting, trembling in every limb,
stopped short before the blazing pile.
A shout from the spectators, now congregated in considerable numbers,
announced the anxiously expected arrival of Eugene Trevor. One second's
pause, as raising himself in his stirrups, he seemed in one wild,
hurried, desperate glance to review the fearful scene--then casting away
the reins and springing to the ground, called out in a hoarse loud
voice an inquiry for his father; but without waiting an answer--or
perhaps reading the full truth too plainly revealed on the countenances
of those around him--he darted forward, almost as the servant had
related (it might have appeared with the desperate impulse to attempt
even then the rescue of his father's remains); when, either repelled by
the violent heat or suddenly recalled to recollection, he staggered
back, struck his clenched hand wildly against his brow, and turned away
just as that part of the roofing gave way; the flames bursting out with
increasing fury necessitating a hasty retreat. The conflagration
presented altogether a scene of awful grandeur. Engines were playing on
the other extremity of the mansion, though little hopes of checking the
devastation were entertained.
All the furniture and other valuable property which it had been possible
to rescue had been already removed, and now lay strewn out in the park
before the house; and there, a little aloof from the rest of the crowd,
with arms folded on his breast, stood Eugene Trevor watching the
progress of the demolition--the terrible glare distinctly revealing the
expression of dark despair settled in his glazed eyes and upturned
countenance.
A few gentlemen of the neighbourhood were on the spot, but a feeling of
delicacy restrained them from intruding on the sufferer their sympathy
at that dreadful moment.
The feelings of a man who stands beholding the house of his forefathers
burning before his eyes, with the fearful knowledge that a parent's
blackened corpse is consuming to ashes beneath the ruins, might seem
indeed to require no other consideration to render their harrowing
nature complete. But were these the subject matter of the thoughts which
pressed upon the soul of Eugene Trevor at that awful moment?--or had it
been the natural promptings of filial piety alone which at first had
impelled him to rush forwards in that fatal direction?
Alas! no--rather must we fear it was the impulse of the man, goaded by
the consciousness that there too was consuming the papers on whose
existence all which he had staked his greedy soul to obtain, and the
destruction of which must be the total demolition of all his unrighteous
hopes and prospects, bring him to the feet of an injured and offended
brother, and prove, in short, his ruin.
* * * * *
The work of destruction continued unabated; portion after portion of the
burning mass gradually gave way; the roof of the large dining-room fell
in with a tremendous crash, and all the interior part of the mansion
being now destroyed, nothing remained but the mere skeleton of one of
the oldest, stateliest residences in the kingdom.
By this time, Eugene Trevor had turned away, and exerted himself to
speak with the superior servants and superintendents of the estate; and
then the friends still lingering by, hesitated no longer to draw near.
They first shook hands in silent and sorrowful token of their sympathy
with the bereaved man, proceeding to press upon him invitations to
accompany them to their respective homes. Eugene received their advances
with as much calmness as could be expected; their hospitality, however,
he thankfully declined.
If he went anywhere he had promised to return to Silverton, but his
presence would be required on the spot some time longer. After he had
seen to everything that remained to be done, he should probably go to
----, the town four miles distant. He had hurt his arm by approaching
too near the fire, and must have it looked at by a surgeon.
His friends had too much consideration to urge him further, and having
received his repeated thanks, and assured them that they could not be of
any further assistance, they departed.
The further proceedings of that night, or rather morning (for it was
about four o'clock) before the work of ruin was finally achieved, were,
as may be supposed, to seek for the remains of Mr. Trevor from amidst
the wreck of the fallen house. They were at length discovered.
There they lay: the iron chests which lined the apartment, (once the
general library of the mansion, but long since monopolized by Mr. Trevor
for his especial use and purposes)--and which alone remained of
everything belonging to it, testified to its identity. The existence of
these giving hopes of the security of its contents, caused a ray of
renovated hope to kindle on the countenance of Eugene Trevor, who
superintended the investigation in person.
But the hope was but transitory. The position of the blackened bones
indicating his father's remains, plainly betokened the vicinity of the
miser to the old oak _bureau_, at the time of his dreadful death: of
that receptacle, of course, nothing now remained but the iron bends
which had once so jealously secured its contents, and the blackened
ashes of paper in considerable quantity; rendering it still more
probable that the horrible catastrophe had originated through their
means--namely, that the wretched old man had set some of them on fire
during their examination; indeed, within the fleshless hand of the
miser, clutched doubtless in his dying agony, there still remained a
scorched fragment of parchment, upon which the eager eyes of his son
still deciphered a word or two, which at once told him his fate was
decided; that it was the unrighteous will on which his future fortunes
so strongly depended, the last atom of which, miraculously preserved, he
now beheld.
* * * * *
A few moments more, and Eugene Trevor turned his back upon the smoking
ruins of his home; and soon, in the hateful light of morning, with bent
brow and livid cheek, was riding away to ----, with feelings at his
heart it would be indeed but a futile endeavour to describe.
With the guilty woe of him who ponders over a well-merited fate--a
serpent wound around the heart, stinging its every thought to
strife--can alone perhaps suggest a fit comparison, when applied to the
state of a man's mind under circumstances like the present.