After the scene at the Opera, which effectually destroyed her pleasure
there, Lady St. Aubyn felt for some days not at all disposed to enter
into the gay parties which were offered for her amusement: a gloom hung
over her, and she had a weight on her spirits, which in some degree
affected her health. Some one says, "A belief in _presentiment_ is the
favourite superstition of feeling minds;" and Ellen was certainly not
entirely free from it. Lady Juliana and Miss Cecil perceived the effect
without knowing the cause; and supposing it to be merely a temporary
indisposition, persuaded her to remain quietly at home for a day or two;
but finding the nervous sort of depression under which she laboured was
encreased by indulgence, they imagined a moderate share of amusement
might remove it; and prevailed on her to take places at Covent-Garden,
to see Mrs. Jordan in a favourite comedy.
Laura did not yet shew herself in public; Ellen therefore went to the
play with only St. Aubyn and Lady Juliana. They were joined there by two
or three gentlemen, and amongst them Sir Edward Leicester, who, between
the acts, made so many inquiries for Miss Cecil, and spoke so highly of
Lady St. Aubyn's "charming friend," as convinced her he took a deep
interest in all that concerned Laura. This gave real pleasure to Ellen,
who thought so well of Sir Edward, as to wish he might succeed in
rendering the prepossession mutual. They were all extremely well pleased
with the play. Who, indeed, that ever saw Mrs. Jordan act was
otherwise? And Lady Juliana was rejoiced to see Ellen quite as cheerful
as usual. They did not choose to stay the farce, and finding at the end
of the play the carriage was in waiting, left the box. Lady Juliana
being rather timid, and not very alert in getting into a carriage, St.
Aubyn gave her his arm, and requested Sir Edward would take care of Lady
St. Aubyn.
As they were crossing the lobby, a gentleman accidentally trod on
Ellen's train, and entangled it in his spur, by which she was detained
half a minute before it could be disengaged. He begged her pardon, and
passed on. St. Aubyn and his aunt not perceiving the circumstance, had
advanced some steps before the Countess and Sir Edward. At that moment
two or three young men pushed rather rudely by them; and Sir Edward
extending his hand, said, "Take care, gentlemen, you incommode the
lady."
One of them turned round, and looking in Ellen's face, exclaimed:
"By heaven 'tis she! 'tis Ellen Powis!"
Lady St. Aubyn starting at the name, cast her eyes upon him, and
instantly recognized Charles Ross: but before she could speak to him, as
she was preparing to do in a friendly manner, he stamped violently, and
with a countenance where the utmost rage was expressed, and a dreadful
oath, exclaimed:
"Is this the villain that has undone thee?--But where, then, is that
accursed Mordaunt? Ah, Ellen! abandoned, miserable girl, art thou, then,
so lost already?"
Pale, gasping for breath at this shocking language, Ellen clung more
closely to the arm of Sir Edward, and faintly articulated, "For God's
sake let me pass!"
"What do you mean, Sir?" said Sir Edward, fiercely: "Are you
intoxicated, or mad? How dare you insult this lady!"
"And how dare you, Sir," answered Charles, approaching in a menacing
attitude, "after seducing her from her friends, and from those who loved
her, to look me in the face?"
"Madman!" replied Sir Edward, pushing him aside with one hand, while
with the other he supported the now almost fainting Ellen. "Gentlemen, I
request you will secure him till I place this lady in her carriage, and
then I am ready to give him any explanation he may wish for."
Some of the gentlemen, who by this time surrounded them, knowing
Charles, said to him: "Come away, Ross; you are very wrong: at any rate,
this quarrel shall go no farther."
At this moment St. Aubyn, having placed his aunt in the carriage,
wondering at Ellen's delay, returned to seek her; and astonished at
what he beheld, exclaimed:
"For heaven's sake, what is the matter? My love, what makes you look so
pale? Has any one dared to insult you?"
"Oh! you are there, Sir, are you," said Charles: "I know you: I saw you
once, and then foretold what has happened: you are the man who must give
me satisfaction."
"Pshaw! he is mad, quite mad," cried Sir Edward; "pay no attention to
him; he knows not what he talks of."
The by-standers began to be of the same opinion; and, indeed, his
rageful countenance, and the violence of his gesticulations, with the
apparent inconsistency of his words, rendered the idea extremely
probable; they therefore forcibly held him, and said: "Pass on,
gentlemen, and take care of the lady: we will prevent him from following
you;" while Ross's friends, supposing either that the wine they knew he
had drank had affected him, or that some sudden frenzy had seized him,
were amongst the foremost to secure him, especially as a gentleman who
now came up said the gentleman and lady were the Earl and Countess of
St. Aubyn: but Charles was too outrageous to hear that or any thing
else, and called after them aloud, stamping with fury, and swearing
terribly:
"Mean, detestable cowards, come back. I am not mad. Give up that
wretched girl: let me take her to her father--to mine, who loved her.
Mordaunt, vile, hateful Mordaunt! to you I call--Come back, I say!"
St. Aubyn turned, and but that Ellen hung half-fainting on him, he would
have obeyed the summons; for he knew that name was addressed to him, and
easily guessed who the supposed madman was, and how the mistake which
caused his insults might have arisen; but Sir Edward said, "You shall
not go back, St. Aubyn, he is mad; or if not, it belongs to me to
chastise him."
"Is it not Charles Ross?" said St. Aubyn to Ellen.
"Yes," she faintly replied; "but do not go back; he is certainly out of
his senses."
By this time they had reached the carriage, and putting her into it, he
shut the door; and saying, "Wait a moment, be not alarmed, I must speak
to him," he ran back again, Sir Edward following.
Ross having, as soon as they were out of sight, disengaged himself from
the by-standers, was hastening with frantic violence to overtake them:
when he saw the two gentlemen, he advanced and said:
"You have thought proper, then, to come back; but what have you done
with that unfortunate girl?"
"For the sake of your father, Mr. Ross," said St. Aubyn, "for now I
know you, I will be patient and tell you."
"What can you tell me more than I already know?" cried Ross,
interrupting him with angry vehemence. "Can you deny that you have
seduced her whom I loved better than my own soul? Did you not bring her
with you to London? I know it all, Sir: the woman where you lodged found
you out. She saw how you had deceived my gentle, innocent Ellen."
"What words are these!" exclaimed St. Aubyn, haughtily. "Whence arises
so vile an error?"
"Villain!" exclaimed Charles, with wild impetuosity, "deny not your
crimes, but give me the satisfaction of a gentleman."
"You do not act like one," said St. Aubyn: "but here is my card; I am
always to be found, and will give you whatever satisfaction you may
require."
He threw a card with his address to Charles, who hastily gave St. Aubyn
one of his.
"It shall not be," said Sir Edward. "I was the first insulted: this
affair is mine."
"Settle it as you please," said Charles: "come one or both, I am ready."
"Very well," said St. Aubyn; "to-morrow we shall be at your service.
Come, Sir Edward; Ellen will be terrified to death." They hastened on;
and Ross rudely pushing aside those around him, left the theatre.
St. Aubyn and Sir Edward now went as quickly as possible, where they
found the Countess, half-fainting, in the arms of Lady Juliana.
"For God's sake," said the latter, as they opened the door, "what is the
matter? What have you been doing? Could you find no time or place to
quarrel in but in the presence of this poor girl?"
"For heaven's sake, Madam," said St. Aubyn, after having ordered the
servants to drive on, "do not talk in that manner. Am I so regardless
of this dear creature's comfort, or so prone to quarrel, that I should
seek it at such a time as this?"
He then made Ellen lean on him, and soothed her with the most
affectionate and tender expressions.
"Oh," said she, reviving; "is he gone? Dear St. Aubyn, tell me, are you
safe, has he hurt you?"
"No--no, my love; be composed, all is over; he is gone away satisfied."
"Satisfied!" replied she; "what could he mean? Do you think he is mad,
or is it the effect of wine, or some mistake?"
"I know not," said St. Aubyn, hastily; "but be at rest--he is gone--we
shall hear no more of him."
"Oh, are you sure--are you quite sure? Dear Lady Juliana, tell me: may I
depend upon it? You said something about a duel."
"I talked like a fool, then, if I did," replied Lady Juliana; "but I do
not remember any thing of it."
"A duel--ridiculous!" said St. Aubyn, pretending to laugh. "I assure
you, Ellen, all is over; pray be composed; there is nothing to fear."
Lady Juliana knew better, but terrified for Ellen, she affected to
believe what St. Aubyn said, and between them, they contrived completely
to deceive the Countess, who, ignorant of the usages of the world, and
not knowing all that had passed, was easily misled. She composed her
mind, therefore, in the hope that all was well, though she still
trembled, and was so much fluttered, that Lady Juliana, after going home
with her, waited till she had seen her in bed; and desiring she might be
kept perfectly quiet, she returned to the drawing-room, and endeavoured
to learn from St. Aubyn and Leicester what had happened, and what was
likely to be the result: but she vainly chid or interrogated either:
both persisted in the story that Ross had apologized, and all was over.
Rather better satisfied, though not fully convinced, Lady Juliana soon
after left them, determined however to keep a little watch upon the
actions of her nephew, with whose temper she was too well acquainted to
suppose such a business would be passed over without farther notice.
St. Aubyn gave Ellen such assurances that nothing more would arise from
this affair, that, tired out with the agitation she had undergone, she
soon fell into a profound sleep, and awakened in the morning perfectly
refreshed and composed. At St. Aubyn's request, however, she remained
later than usual in bed. Laura Cecil sat by her side, and gave her her
breakfast, after which she appeared so entirely well, that no objection
was made to her rising.
In the meantime St. Aubyn had received, at his breakfast-table, the
following note:--
My Lord,
I find by the card you gave me last night, that the name of
_Mordaunt_ was only assumed to conceal the blackest designs and
most detestable perfidy.
If you do not mean to plead your privilege, I demand a meeting
with you on Wimbolton Common to-morrow morning at seven
o'clock, when I hope to wash out my wrongs, and those of the
injured Ellen, in the blood of a villain.