A greater power than we can contradict
Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away;
Thy husband in thy bosom lieth dead.
SHAKSPEARE.
“The prospect of this separation appeared to be anticipated with
much dread by Somers, and he sighed over each succeeding day that
diminished the interval that remained to us. Having always beheld
in him this desire to linger over each departing moment, I was much
surprised, two days before the time that I was to have left, to
receive a note from him, announcing his own departure. It was short,
and only, ‘I dare not say more, till farther assured of the truth of
what I have heard, than that I trust this temporary absence will, in
the end, lead to the reverse of separation.’ I endeavoured to rest
satisfied with this mysterious consolation, and contrive to keep up
my spirits during our own removal; but when week after week passed
over at our new quarters, without my hearing farther from Somers, the
secret anxiety which preyed upon me began to affect my professional
exertions, and diminish my popularity. At length Somers returned: he
was in deep mourning, and from his manner had evidently something to
communicate, whilst the warmth of his affection for me seemed to have
gained strength from absence.
“The whole mystery of his conduct was now unravelled. It appeared
that he was the only son of Lord Castleton; that whilst yet scarcely
of age, he had been induced by his father, whose estates were much
embarrassed, to marry a rich heiress; that she, well knowing for
what he had married her, never thought it necessary to give him
that affection which he did not seem to require; that after the
birth of one son, they lived little together. The peace of Amiens
happening about that time, she had, under the pretence of ill health,
obtained his ready permission to go with some of her own family to
the Continent, whilst his parliamentary duties, which were then new
to him, gave him, on his side, as ready an excuse for remaining in
England.
“At the sudden breaking out of the war, Mrs. Somers, with many others
of her countrymen and women, became a _detenue en France_. As long
as she had been allowed to remain at Paris, this forced detention
had not appeared to be unpleasant to her, but when, for some reason
not explained, she had forfeited the favour which had procured her
that indulgence, and had been exiled to a small provincial town in
France, she had become very anxious to return to her own country. But
reports which had reached Somers of her levity, had not caused him
to regret more than he would have done at the period of their former
separation, that it was utterly out of his power to facilitate such
an event. He owned that upon first becoming acquainted with me, he
had looked forward to that sort of temporary connexion, which would
have thrown a gleam of happiness over his at present solitary home;
but that as a more intimate knowledge of my character showed him
the purity of my unsuspecting innocence, he at the same time began
to entertain doubts both as to the propriety of acting upon such
an intention, and the probability of succeeding in it. Hence all
his inward struggles and ill-concealed fits of despondency. Just as
he had almost brought himself to determine that the period of my
removing from * * * * * should terminate our connexion, he received
a report of the death of Mrs. Somers in France. His first impression
was merely the shock of the sudden removal of one so young from the
world, with whom he had been so closely connected: and though he had
never loved her, all his own faults towards her now crowded upon
his recollection. Oppressed with these feelings, though he already
began to cherish half-formed hopes for the future, he would not see
me before leaving * * * * *; especially as he wished first that the
intelligence which lie had heard should receive farther confirmation.
This had been obtained in London to the full extent that could be
expected, from the imperfect communication between two countries in a
state of war.
“He now pressed for an immediate and private marriage. That it
should be immediate, he pleaded only too strongly the excess of his
passion: that it must be private, he at the same time owned, to allow
him to remove the opposition of an aged parent, and from a feeling
of delicacy on account of the deep mourning he still wore for Mrs.
Somers. Almost wild as I was with the prospects of happiness which
were thus opening to me, I still felt shocked at the suddenness of
the proposal; but so unlimited had become his influence over me, that
he could have proposed nothing, consistent with honour, to which I
would not have readily acceded. I pleaded for delay, I fear feebly--I
know ineffectually. Somers had brought with him an old college
friend, to perform the ceremony, upon whose secrecy he could rely,
and who was to leave the town immediately after. Fatal precipitancy!
We were married the next morning. So anxious was Somers that nothing
should occur on which to hang a suspicion of the event which had
taken place, that he even recommended my performing as usual
that night at the theatre. His will was law to me, and I made no
objection, though I own, a presentiment of evil oppressed my spirits,
when the prompter gave out ‘Isabella, or the Fatal Marriage,’ as the
performance of that evening.
“My husband, with what pride I then thought of him as such, occupied
his usual place in the stage-box. In the first act, whilst kneeling
before Count Baldwin, I could not help fancying that the words were
addressed to that obdurate father-in-law, whose forgiveness was
necessary to the acknowledgment of our marriage; this gave a peculiar
energy to my appeal, which added much to the effect of the scene,
and crowned my exertions with a success, much beyond that which had
latterly attended my more languid efforts.
“In the midst of the thunder of applause which followed, a party of
naval officers entered the box where Somers sat, accompanied by a
lady, dressed in the height of the French fashion, which, as there
was then little communication between the countries, was never worn
without exciting much attention. The eyes of the whole house were
in consequence turned on the lady. Somers rose upon their entrance;
but upon turning round to observe them, it appeared to me as if he
staggered, and leant for support against the side of the box; in
this position, the light of the stage-lamps fell strongly upon his
features, and showed to me his whole face, even his very lips, of a
deadly paleness. Before rushing out of the box he cast one long look
of utter despair on me. I could not then comprehend its meaning, but
it was the last I ever received from my husband. _My_ husband did I
say? He was HER’S. It was Mrs. Somers who had entered the box!
“Yet even in the dreadful suspense in which I was left, my surmises
never reached the horrible truth. What agony it was to go on
acting--acting through five long acts; yet I forced myself to
proceed, with the recollection that Somers had wished me to avoid
anything that might lead to the premature discovery of our marriage.
Yet, what a night was that on which to assume fictitious woe! And
there she sat, and at such a moment ’twas I that was pampering her
morbid sensibilities. Even then she wept in torrents at my ideal
sorrows, and was carried out in convulsions, unable to bear the sight
of my assumed madness and despair--she whose unlooked-for appearance
in the world was about to bereave me of every earthly hope. And even
in those moments thus trifled away in such wretched mockery of grief,
what fatally real horrors were preparing for me!
“Somers had rushed homewards in a state approaching to delirium; he
locked himself in his dressing-room. Fatal chance! His pistol-case
lay on the table beside him. He was alone. His state was desperate.
The sudden revulsion from the height of expectant happiness had been
too much for him. Look which way he might, he saw no opening for
hope; and there was no friendly hand to stay his frantic purpose.
Where was I then? Which way employed? I never can bear to think
of it. Hurrying impatiently homewards the moment I was free to do
so. All was then over. Amidst a crowd which was already collected,
I found Mrs. Somers, who had left the theatre, overpowered by her
sensibility, which my fictitious sufferings had excited; now bending
over the remains of what had been _her_ husband, and, I still
thought, _mine_. But the mouth which that morning had breathed its
vows to me, was now distorted in death---shattered by the desperate
aim of the pistol. Oh, Lucy, even I endeavoured in vain to recognize
those loved features as I pushed aside every one,--yes, even _her_,
to assume for the last time that position by him which I thought mine
by right.
“Mrs. Somers rose indignantly, and the dreadful cause of this horrid
scene broke fearfully upon me, through a torrent of the most vehement
abuse which she launched upon my devoted head, such as an irritated
woman thinks herself justified in venting upon the most degraded
of her own sex. I could have submitted meekly to all she said--I
hardly heeded it, till she called me her husband’s murderess. Was I
that?--Yes, at that moment I felt myself a guilty creature; for what
precious moments had I not wasted in the unmeaning garb of mimic woe,
whilst he was left alone in his despair to do the horrid deed! Had I
but been there, I would have suffered shame, I fear even dishonour,
to have saved him; nay, more, I would have renounced him for ever,
I would have restored his newly-plighted faith, to have preserved
his precious life, and to have been allowed to offer prayers for his
happiness.”
Alice Darnell forced herself to gasp forth these last words, and
then sunk back senseless. When Lucy had succeeded in restoring her
to herself, she said, “I thought I never could have brought myself
to revive in words these harrowing recollections. You see to what a
state it has reduced me, and how unfit I am now to draw from the sad
tale that practical warning I had wished, as to the danger of unequal
attachments,--above all, of surrendering the affections where any
mystery involves the object. One word I may as well now add, that you
may understand the events which I have detailed. I said that Somers
had one infant son, but it had remained with his grandfather, Lord
Castleton, from the time its mother first went abroad. The rumour of
Mrs. Somers’ death had been purposely circulated to facilitate her
attempt to escape: so anxious had she latterly been to leave that
country which she had sought for pleasure, that she embarked in an
open boat, and had been taken up by an English cruiser, the captain
of which paid her every attention. It was accompanied by him that,
upon landing, she had gone to the theatre, and within a twelvemonth
from that time she became his wife. To-morrow, dearest Lucy, I shall
be calm, and better able to speak farther, but you must stay here
with me to-night.”