There is a cliff whose high and beetling head
Looks fearfully in the confined deep:
Bring me to it.
SHAKSPEARE.
They were trained together in their childhood,
And there rooted between them such an
Affection as cannot choose but branch now.
IBID.
Lord Castleton, in accordance with the claim which we have seen Lady
Madelina had established to a common property with him in the use of
the monosyllable “we,” had passed the evening in hanging over the
sofa, on which she gracefully reclined, apart from the rest of the
world, within the recess of a roseate-draperied tent, into which a
ci-devant oriel window had been converted.
On the next eventful morning the ladies were to perform the
first part of the expedition in open carriages, the gentlemen on
horseback; when the road no longer admitted of such civilized modes
of conveyance, the ladies were to be transferred to donkeys, and
the men to try their pedestrian powers. Lord Castleton had escorted
Lady Madelina to her carriage, and had started, with one hand on the
barouche door, and the other promoting, through the medium of his
horse’s mouth, that sort of curveting canter which made conversation
during progress easy; but before they were even out of sight of the
abbey his attention was diverted by the oft-repeated cry, just behind
him, in his host’s voice, of “Soho! soho! quiet there!” and looking
back he caught occasional glimpses even of the highest _guérite_ of
Hornscliff, in short of the whole of poor Sir North’s _country seat_,
between his _equestrian seat_ and his saddle. The fact was that Sir
North’s stable, like his house, had been furnished wholesale and
indiscriminately; but as a _sofa_ is easier to sit than a horse, and
as Sir North’s figure and habits were much more adapted to the one
than the other, the want of proper selection was here infinitely
more inconvenient. Lord Castleton, seeing the imminent danger in
which his host was, could do no other than offer to change with him.
This proposal Sir North received without the slightest scruple,
which, considering that at the time he thought he was consigning
his young friend to the merciless power of the most terrific animal
in creation, was a conduct which nothing but an extreme case of
self-preservation could justify. Though his new rider did not find
much difficulty in managing the unruly beast, yet as Lady Madelina’s
nerves no longer allowed Lord Castleton to ride by the side of the
carriage, he was left, up to the time of quitting these vehicles,
more unoccupied than he otherwise would have been, to admire the
increasing beauty of the surrounding scenery.
A train of thoughts long neglected, and a tone of feeling of late
untouched, seemed to revive within him, under the impression of
outward objects, to which his eye had been now for some time a
stranger. The meditations into which he was thus insensibly led were
only occasionally interrupted by the bungling explanations attempted
by Sir North of the different objects they passed, as he mistook in
attempting to re-state the information he had received from the Rev.
Mr. Turner. These explanatory observations of Sir North became more
frequent, as his equanimity was by degrees revived by the confidence
he felt, after the change of steeds, in his restored safety: as he
himself technically expressed it, “His seat was now as secure as Old
Sarum.”
“Pray observe,” said Sir North, “the secluded situation of these
Druidical remains, which have withstood the changes of centuries,
there to your right.”
“The Druidical remains I showed you,” said Mr. Turner in an
under-tone, and as much in Sir North’s ear as the height of the
little white pony he was riding would enable him to reach, “are half
a mile farther to the left.”
“Pardon me, my good Sir,” said Sir North, “what is that which I see
to the right?”
“The remains of a windmill, pulled down by order of the magistrates,
for its neighbourhood to the high road,” replied the reverend
Cicerone.
This little mistake of Sir North’s rather checked the torrent of his
information, till, after passing a beautiful variety of highland
and lowland, in crossing a succession of ridges, they at length
arrived at the entrance of the rocky glen, through which they were
to wind their way down to the sea. Here they were obliged to leave
carriages and horses, as there was no longer any better road than the
timber-track by which the produce of Sir North’s woods was annually
taken to be shipped.
Lord Castleton, still in close attendance on Lady Madelina, after
smoothing many little difficulties, and soothing many affected alarms
in settling her upon her donkey, prepared to lead the animal down the
path, into the wild and romantic scene whose bold features at every
step became more striking.
He looked up on one side at the fantastic forms of the venerable
trunks whose roots had for centuries been entwined in the rocky
crags from which they grew, but whose wide-spreading branches then
luxuriated in the green vigour of a summer foliage; and he looked
down on the other at the clear unruffled surface of the brook, which
ran murmuring below them. He scented the freshness of the hitherto
untrodden fern, as his feet passed over it, and he then cast his eyes
upon the fascinating but _fané_ beauty by his side, and felt that
there was something uncongenial in visiting such a scene under the
protection of such a guardian genius, one certainly better adapted
to the artificial state in which he had been lately living than to
the freshness and nature of the present. Her personal charms, too, no
longer in their first bloom, suited better the softened light of the
shaded boudoir than the searching glance of the evening sun, to which
they were now exposed, as upon approaching the sea the wood no longer
afforded the same shelter from its rays, and against the effect of
which the utmost skill in the management of the pink parasol could
not always guard its mistress, thwarted as her efforts were by the
constant windings of the steep path by which they descended, and the
rough motions of the humble donkey on which she was mounted; and even
those graceful limbs, whose slightest movement had had its charm
when stretched with studied ease upon the luxurious sofa, were now
necessarily cramped into angles on an awkward side-saddle.
All these circumstances, though not embodied in the shape of distinct
doses towards effecting Lord Castleton’s cure, had not been without
their effect upon him. They had both been for some time silent, when,
just before the last angle in the glen was to open to them that
sea-view which was the object of their expedition, Lord Castleton
stopping to re-arrange some part of Lady Madelina’s dress, which the
uneasy motion of the donkey had discomposed, his ear caught for the
first time the soothing sound of the measured breaking of the waters
in their regular rise and fall against a sloping shore.
The very idea of eternal sameness with which this sound never fails
to impress a romantic fancy when unexpectedly heard, has in itself a
tendency to recall the different circumstances, to revive the faded
feelings, and to connect the distant spots in which its unvaried
monotony has met the ear.
It may already have been seen that Lord Castleton was by nature
sufficiently romantic, and therefore he was immediately involved in
a labyrinth of thick-coming recollections, which completely took off
his attention from the occupation which would lately not have been
without its interest, when all his pleasing reveries were dispelled
by that voice, whose tones he so much admired, jarring upon his ear
in _malapropos_ inquiry. “So, after all, Lady Waitfort could not get
asked to Lady Delacour’s ball?”
The disgust that he felt at this ill-timed turn to his thoughts, he
was not obliged to express; for just then they came within sight
of the beautiful Bay to which they had been destined, and even Lady
Madelina could not help exclaiming, “What a sweet spot!”
Now a sweet spot was not exactly the most appropriate expression for
admiration of such a scene; but Lord Castleton was too grateful to
her at the time for showing any feeling on the subject, to object to
the aptness of the terms in which she vented it.
The “sweet spot” was a deeply indented bay, surrounded with
perpendicular cliffs of a great height, which towards the two
extremities of the inlet, cut the water in the shape of boldly
jutting crags. In the centre they were intersected by the deep glen
through which the party had descended; at the bottom of which the
mountain-stream found its way to the sea; and even down to the beach,
the sides of this glen were covered with fine trees and thriving
shrubs; a rare circumstance in our northern latitudes.
There was in the solitude of the scene itself, and the grandeur of
the outlines by which it was enclosed, that which seemed to mark
it as a spot where, in one of her angry moods, Nature might choose
to threaten some of those more awful and sublime appearances which
she sometimes assumes; but at present, the gaiety of the season,
the mildness of the air, the splendour of the setting-sun, and the
calmness of the sea, the sameness of whose measured splash against
the shore was not broken by the slightest swell from without,
produced no more than a pleasing sensation of repose. There was no
human habitation visible from the sea-shore; but on one of the banks
which formed the sides of the glen, about half way from the summit to
the shore, just on the single spot where the slope was more gradual,
some smoke was seen curling from behind a grove of dwarf oaks;
and still higher, taking advantage of a southern exposure, there
appeared a garden, which ran upwards, till the cliff again becoming
too perpendicular, it only communicated with the top by means of some
steps cut in the rock, evidently with great attention to safety and
even convenience. Judging by the little that could be seen of the
environs of this dwelling, it might either be the residence of some
retired mariner, who chose to pass his latter days upon an acquired
competence, still within sight, though safe from the attacks of that
element which had been the scene of his earlier adventures; or it
might, on the other hand, be the dwelling of some opulent farmer, who
had sought the shelter of this southern slope, from that exposure to
which the upper land must there be subject.
At first, the party imagined that they were the only living
creatures that at present tenanted the semicircular shores of the
bay; but upon passing the angle of a rock which projected almost
to the water’s edge, Lord Castleton and Lady Madelina discovered
two youthful figures leaning against the gunwale of a solitary
fishing-boat, which was moored close up to the cliff. The eldest of
these two seemed a stout, healthy-looking lad of about sixteen, with
a well-made figure and rather a handsome head, though, for the age
which his general appearance indicated, his person was strong set and
square, and his countenance marked and decided. His dress evidently
bespoke a nautical calling, though it was of that indefinite
description which might belong to any rank in the service of the
sea; his dark-blue jacket and trowsers were, however, quite new, and
apparently put on with some attention to effect; in his right hand
he held by the middle a fresh-cut oaken staff, of that description
which, among the lower orders, generally indicates an impending
pedestrian journey, and which seemed equally well calculated to
lend its assistance to the legs in their regular labours, and upon
any extraordinary occasion, to give additional powers to the hand
that held it. The top of this staff he leaned against his mouth,
his eyes were intently fixed on the regular rise and fall of the
waters before him, whilst the fingers of his left hand, which hung
by his side, nervously grasped something, of which, as they half
closed upon it, only the end of a blue ribbon appeared. By his side
stood one of those figures, which occasionally and unexpectedly
cross our path, to put us again in good humour with human nature,
and prevent our being entirely disgusted with the endless varieties
of ugliness of which the mortal machine is capable, by showing, on
the other hand, the perfection of which the same conformation is
sometimes susceptible in every rank and all situations. Here, a
form, which among the nobly-born would have been said to bear the
stamp of high birth--which, in the land of ancient tradition and
sculptured authority, would have been said to show the signs of pure
classical extraction, was found lowly born in an obscure corner of
a rugged clime. Even the delicacy, which gave an unlooked-for charm
to the appearance of one in that situation, was enhanced by her
extreme youth. She was two years younger than her companion; and,
though tall of her age, slight, and still childish in her form: the
natural cheerfulness of her innocent countenance was then clouded by
some present sorrow, which added to the interest she was calculated
to inspire. Her right arm leaned lightly on the shoulders of her
companion, and her eye, in which a tear still trembled, was fixed
upon the hand which held the ribbon.
“What a perfect study for Gainsborough!” said Lord Castleton, as he
and Lady Madelina stopped to gaze on the youthful couple, of whom,
the angle of the rock had given them, unobserved, so near a view.
“Gainsborough!” said Lady Madelina, “I thought he made people with
waspish waists and powdered hair; I am sure I never saw such a
figure as he has made of Aunt Theodosia, in the picture-gallery at
Lumberhead-hall.”
“Alas, poor Gainsborough! the native offspring of his tasteful
imagination are no more like my aunt Theodosia, than that beautiful
girl is like----.” He did not finish the sentence, but the look
he gave might have said more than was either civil or welcome,
had not the horizontal sun at that moment fortunately caused the
interposition of the pink parasol.