"At night he said--and look, 'tis near * * *
Perhaps even now he climbs the wood--
Fly, fly--though still the west is bright,--
* * * * *
I know him--he'll not wait for night!"
_Lalla Rookh._
However interested our readers may be in the immediate fate of Ellen, it
is needful for the continuity of our story to return again to the
Towers; and as the shepherd often returns back to seek, and drive on
some erring sheep to the flock, so must we often retrograde on our path,
to pick up some lost hero, and bring him on till all are again united.
To the study, then, of the Earl let us again bend our eyes, where we
left Juana standing at the door. The surprise of the Earl was great, and
mingled with it some impatience and anger, at thus seeing one he had
once met on far different terms, yet one he had vowed not again to
address in his life, standing on the threshold of his door.
"You here!" he exclaimed, frowning, and for the moment forgetting she
was there as a messenger, bringing important tidings; "did I not
expressly forbid you ever to enter my doors again? Did you not promise
you would not? Was it not on this one condition I gave you house and
money? You are forgetful, fair donna, let me refresh your memory by
telling you you have forfeited them!"
"My Lord, you gave them, and may retake them! I care not for your
gold--a tent with love is better than a throne without; it was not thus
you spoke to Juana when you tempted, and won her. Remember you then
promised nothing should change your love while she lived--she is living
still, but where is love?"
"I own my error--I repent my sin; I can do no more. Away, madam, away; I
have sworn not to speak to you again on love--I will not perjure myself,
away!"
"It is true you love another now; may she never prove how false, how
fleeting your passion is."
"Away, Juana; for God's sake taunt me not. He knows I am bitterly
punished when she I love is faithless, perhaps, to me. Away--do you hear
me--begone! What, lingering still? I command you to depart: would you
have me summon my servants to show you out?"
"I will go--I will take my secret with me. Lord Wentworth, hear me, you
will repent this to your dying day."
"Away, away, I dare not look at you!"
"Shall I, then, for ever keep my secret? Listen, my Lord; eternity would
be too short to mourn your error. I came to tell you about one you
love--about her for whom you forsook Juana--you shall not hear it."
"Oh, my God; what said you--about Ellen--where, where is my adored one?
Forgive me, I was hasty--I am mad, driven mad--stay, I forgive you--oh,
tell me!"
"Nay, I must begone; you bade me away--I obey you."
"Stay, for God's sake, stay; do not drive me distracted."
"Hear me, my Lord, were it not for her sake I would go."
"Yes," cried the Earl, rising and walking towards her, "taunt me with my
crime, I deserve it--upbraid me with my faithlessness, I can bear
it--but oh! by His blessed name who formed us, withhold not this
secret."
"And why should I tell it, after all; is she not my rival? is she not--"
"Powers above, you escape me not thus--you know about Ellen--you shall
tell me all--I will arrest you--imprison--torture--"
"Those days are past, you have not the power--and if you had, you might
tear my tongue from its roots--but never wring from it the secret it
held. Juana would die silent like the wolf; it would be of no use to
imprison, nor punish me; to-night, to-night, she suffers, she whom you
love better than life--time is passing--every moment is precious as
untold wealth, even now, perhaps, she is in his power, even--"
"Oh, sumless agony! I have deserved this at your hand, but, hear me, I
will do whatever you wish, Juana. I will marry you--yes, I
will--bitterly as it would punish me--I will roll away your
reproach--you shall be a countess--only lead me to Ellen--let me save
her from this wrong. I love her to wildness--let me save her, though she
can never be mine!"
Like one half-distracted, the Earl wrung his hands as he spoke; close to
him stood Juana, calm, collected, self-possessed.
"Listen, my Lord, I could now accept your offer, and become your lawful
wife--the dearest name that I can have. I will not; Juana must be freely
loved, and she is not so base as to betray her friend. Ellen Ravensworth
is my friend. I will, for her sake--for her noble sake--lead you to
where she is imprisoned,--a captive dove, and cruel hawks near. You
shall be happy, and live to remember her who gave all in this world and
the next for you--you, who deceived her. Name, fame, future bliss, all I
freely give for Ellen's sake."
"Noble Juana," cried the Earl, and not even Ellen could have grudged the
look he gave her; "and now tell me who has dared imprison, and where he
has imprisoned her. Oh! be quick, time presses."
"Listen, then; I was the Italian minstrel, to me the care of Ellen was
given--her brother was my old lover, and for this I saved her. Edward
L'Estrange is he who dared make her his captive. To-night he will compel
her to become his bride! but no, he will not. Ellen has a blade to
deprive herself of life, should that be her last resource; and a heart
to do it, should that alone save her from contempt and dishonour. I am
brief and curt in my story, for there is little time to waste: even now
perhaps we shall be too late, her own hand may have cut the thread of
life ere we reach her prison."
"Where is it, oh! heavens, where is it? I will fly thither. Oh! Ellen,
my own darling, you in danger and I not there to support you! Juana, I
can never thank you enough, but tell me where."
"At Cessford's Peel--not seven miles hence."
"Ah!" cried the Earl, "I have it now--and you, fair traitress, are the
author of my misery; had it not been this confession, nought would have
saved you, a heavy reckoning I would have had."
"You will believe me when I tell you I had not any hand in this; true I
was led to believe by bad men it might restore me to honour and virtue,
but God willed it otherwise. Ellen, by an accident, the sight of yon
dagger, was known to me, and--"
"Tarry not, life hangs on every word. Cessford's Peel, said you? and
what room is her prison?"
"The refectory, with the tapestried walls--you are right--fly, fly to
the tower--I may lose life, I _shall_ lose liberty, by this confession;
you see it is ingenuous."
"You shall not, Juana; stay with me, I care not what the world says,
this is your home. I cannot give you my heart, all else, to the half of
my wealth, I can, and I will."
"It is needless, I cannot accept; think you I could live so near him I
loved so well, and see him love another? No; you know not a woman's
heart. Man may love more than one--woman never: but we are losing
precious irrevocable time. Haste, the lady is even now in peril. I will
away to some distant strand, and bury there my love and my shame. Take
back your ring, you gave it to the Italian boy, not to Juana, though
they were the same being."
"Nay, keep it, and now for action. L'Estrange will find me a rough host
to reckon with."
The Earl sprung up, and rushing from the room frantically summoned all
who were near. "Arranmore, John, Musgrave, Scroop, all of you; the
secret is out, she is found, but there is danger yet."
Turning a deaf ear to a hundred questions that poured in on every side,
the Earl rushed back to his room, to seek for Juana, but she was not
there. As he returned he met Lady Arranmore, who asked him in fear what
it all was.
"Ellen is found! I go to rescue her."
"Where, where is she?" asked the lady, but her brother was gone, and she
ran up stairs to spread the happy news. Meantime the Earl and most of
the gentlemen had reached the stables, and were helping the men to
saddle the horses as quick as possible. With the utmost despatch the
Earl, the Marquis, Musgrave and Scroop, were mounted, and attended by
Wilton rode off, leaving the rest to follow as they might.
"Send two carriages to the Peel like lightning," was the Earl's last
order.
The news, only half known, spread like wildfire through the castle, and
it was much exaggerated, and added to in its travels from mouth to ear.
Dreadful rumours of the young lady, being murdered, or dying, were
freely circulated, whilst there was mounting in hot haste, and retainer
after retainer rode off for the scene of action; last of all started
Captain Wilson, not from any laggard feelings, but because the gallant
seaman had mounted a fiery young steed he was ill able to manage, though
he stuck to it like a lion on the giraffe; thrice he was carried round
the park ere he could rein him in and take the pathway, for it was young
Nimrod he bestrode.
"Where is the Captain?" asked the Earl, as he and Musgrave rode side by
side at a terrific pace. "Why does he not assist in the rescue?"
"The Captain rode to Edinburgh after dinner," answered Sir Richard, "or
he would have been the first, and foremost to rescue lady fair, as he
has ever been on the battle field."
"I trust so," said the Earl; and then to himself he muttered, "it is
curious, it surely cannot be he has any part in this, and yet I have a
horrid suspicion; his intimacy with wretched L'Estrange, that base
friend who turns to sting his protector's hand, who abuses the
hospitality of his host, a terrible reckoning I will have. Oh God, shall
I be in time?" And again he struck his spurs in his panting courser's
side, and rode as if for life, and life depended on every stroke of his
horse's hoofs.
"This grows exciting," said Scroop, "we are now nearing the den. Oh, to
think of L'Estrange so foully abusing the Earl's friendship; we shall
have a fight I hope. The fair girl shall see Scroop will not bring
disgrace on his name."
"Nor Musgrave either," said Sir Richard. "'Forsters Fenwicks and
Musgraves they rode and they ran,' is not that the ballad?"
"I hope we shall have better luck than those Musgraves had," said
Scroop.
The party were now in sight of the Peel; down the steep they rode as
only true followers of the chase could, and a noble quarry was in view.
On they rode, the Earl foremost; his face red with conflicting hopes and
fears, ire and burning ardour to show how he did battle for his lady
love. On his right and left rode the Marquis on a tall steed of the Arab
breed, and the false Musgrave; a few paces behind Scroop spurred on his
horse, as the jockey with the winning post in view presses on; behind
him galloped old Wilton; he was not last because he was unable to keep
his foremost rank, but because like a faithful servant he wished his
master to gain the praise of being first in, maybe with awful meaning,
at the death! Just as they reached the greensward a loud "Tally ho,
hillo there, tally ho! where ride you?" assailed their ears.
Without reining their horses they all looked back, and saw the Captain,
who in hot haste rode up.
"God be thanked, my fears are groundless," said the Earl to himself, and
then aloud, "Ha! I thought the Captain would not be missing, in the
forefront of the battle."
"Battle is it? By G--" said the soldier, "hurrah then! I was just riding
in from Edinburgh when I met my man Archy, and he told me to ride off to
Cessford's Peel, and something about Ellen being found. Egad I rode as
if old Scratch was at my heels, and I am right glad I was in time: where
is the rampart to storm? Egad, Ellen shall see how John de Vere can do
battle for ladye bright!"
One or two others just then arrived, and amongst them young Nimrod, who
sped in like a wild Indian, and pitched his rider fairly on the
greensward.
"Such a brute I never cruised on," said the Commander, rising all wet
with the dewy grass; "there was no steering him, he would not obey his
helm and has wrecked me at last on a leeshore."
This incident produced some laughter, and the appearance of the gallant
sea captain as he got up, and the horse galloping round and round the
enclosure, leaping and bounding with delight at thus ridding himself of,
what doubtless he had thought, a wild beast, gripping him by neck and
mane, was indeed ludicrous, and would have made the Earl laugh too on
any other occasion. At the same moment Juana once more appeared. When
the Earl had run off for assistance, unseen, or unnoticed in the
confusion, she had left the castle, and remounting her fleet horse at a
gentle, but unbroken hand gallop, set off for the Peel, determined if
the help should not come soon enough, she would at least risk an
encounter with the three furious men to save Ellen; the mad haste with
which the pursuers had however ridden across the country, whilst she
took the more circuitous route by the main road, had counteracted her
plans, and she arrived a few moments after the rescuers.
"Ha, my guide, you here?" said the Earl; "why where have you been?" A
shriek from the high window of the castle rose slightly, but terribly on
the night air as he spoke. "Ye gods it is she; her cry for aid, and I
not there!"
"Haste, my Lord, or it may be too late," cried Juana.
There was no need of such a charge; like lightning the whole party were
dismounted, and the Earl, followed by the Marquis and the others, fled
up the entrance, mounting the stairs more like maniacs than men in
their eagerness. The Captain alone lingered behind, he was the only
person but Juana in sight.
"Then it was you, perjured woman, that betrayed our cause?"
"It was, bold, bad man."
"You did not compromise me?"
"I named no one but L'Estrange, though you deserved it."
"It is well for you,--you are a cunning asp, but one that bites too; had
you spoken a word against my honour, you had died the death!"
"Your honour?" said Juana, in bitter irony.
"And if you dare breathe a syllable of my being an accomplice I will
wring that head of yours off its fair neck. I will bring you to a
reckoning for this yet, by G--d, I will!"
"Take not his name on thy perjured lips."
"Avast there--keep thy viperous tongue still, it has done mischief
enough already for one night; but I must not delay. Ha, they batter the
door do they, it will stand the best of them," so saying he sped up the
stairs crying: "Egad, I had lost you in this old labyrinth. Blaze away,
Arranmore, I will help."
Whilst the Captain had been talking with Juana, the five others had
reached the door, and were wild at finding it locked within, and well
able to withstand the attack.
"God grant," said the Earl, "she be not murdered within, and her
murderer fled; I dread the silence: try again, Arranmore, try, oh! once
more."
The Captain smiled in scorn. "It stood me," he muttered to himself.
But at that moment the Marquis again threw his giant size and strength
against the oaken door; it shook like an aspen, but still it held firm.
"Once more," he cried, "all help, it must be supernatural if it still
stands."
Suiting the action to the word the Earl, Musgrave, and the Captain,
leant their full weight against the framework, and the Marquis throwing
back his form once more struck the door with his shoulder. Before the
shock of the young Titan it yielded like a thin panel before the boxer's
glove, and with a terrible crash the whole fell in, tearing with it, in
its descent, the iron hinges soldered into the masonry, that fell like
powder; and the bolts, that drew out the framework with them as they
yielded. A loud shout of joy followed this wonderful display of
strength, and a louder cry still, partly of joy, partly of that wild
fury with which foe meets foe, partly of that bounding thrill when we
save the life of a fellow being--especially if she be fair and young,
partly of that yell of vengeance when we behold the miscreant, on whom a
just punishment is to fall. A wilder shout still when they saw, over the
wreck of the portal, her whom they had ridden and striven so hard to
save, and him they had ridden and striven so hard to be avenged on. In
the silver beams of the moon stood Ellen, trembling. More in the shade
still, and for a moment hardly discernible, stood Edward L'Estrange,
calm, unmoved, placid, yet they who read his eye saw in him the fury of
the lion, brought to bay. In his hand he held a pistol. There might be a
hard struggle yet ere they held him captive.