The bridegroom may forget the bride
Was made his wedded wife yestreen.
BURNS.
It was on a serene autumnal morning succeeding the day of Lady
Adelaide's nuptials, the sun had brilliantly arisen, dispelling the
misty gloom and dews of night, and shed around his broad refracted
rays; unruffled by a passing cloud, a clear and lofty sky spread forth
its mighty canopy of mild aërial blue; the twittering swallows hovered
around, and circled in mid-air, while clustering, they chattered their
parting lullaby. The solitary redbreast too joined in nature's chorus,
and thrilled forth his matin song. Every mountain lake shone forth a
glassy mirror, and the waves of the mighty Atlantic hushed to repose,
slumbered amid their coral caves; what time the minister of the gospel
of peace, the Reverend Doctor M'Kenzie, returned to the castle of his
noble and generous patron, after a long protracted absence of many
years.
His return had been provokingly delayed by long continued ill health,
and besides by various vexatious detainers, such as bad roads, bad
drivers, the cumbersome, ill-constructed vehicles of those days,
and having encountered various disastrous chances of many "moving
accidents" by sea and land, which had all concurred with direful
combination to retard his journey, and prevent his being present upon
the auspicious day when the lovely heiress of the noble duke was to
bestow her hand in marriage.
His Reverence received a kind and hearty welcome from the duke and
duchess, and all the inmates of the castle were rejoiced to behold his
return, and to find that his health was quite re-established, so as to
have permitted him to undertake such a long and fatiguing journey. His
health and spirits were indeed much recruited through the beneficial
effects of the waters of Pyrmont, which, like those of fabled Lethe,
seemed to cause a total oblivion of all the perils inflicted amid the
deep, and the dangers and difficulties sustained upon land.
Matters went on at the castle this day pretty much alike to what they
had upon the preceding ever memorable yesterday, which witnessed the
happy union of Sir David Bruce and the Lady Adelaide. A large company
assembled at the castle, and sat down to a splendid dinner in the great
hall of state. The desert could boast fruits collected from every
quarter of the globe, and every rich, rare, and generous wine, sparkled
on the board, and were poured forth in hospitable libations--
"The mellow-tinted Burgundy; and quick
As is the wit it gives, the brisk Champaign."
In the evening there was a concert of instrumental music, which was
performed on the terrace; cards and supper succeeded; every thing was
conducted and served up in a style at once splendid and superb.
The company had all departed to their homes, and the guests had
retired to their chambers; but the duke and duchess, and the bride
and bridegroom, still tarried, engaged in pleasant discourse; when
at length the noble host and hostess also took leave, and embracing
their beloved daughter, and cordially shaking Sir David by the hand,
they bade good night, and ascended to their chamber. The bridal pair
now also remained some few moments engaged in sweet converse, when he
said:--"My love, retire to your chamber, and soon I shall follow thee;
I have a letter or two to write, and despatch by the messenger, who at
dawn of day departs to deposit them in the general post. I have too a
few letters to read; these being despatched, quickly I shall retire
anon to our chamber. The night is a cold autumnal one, but I know that
I shall find a blazing fire--a heart still warmer than that fire, and
sweet smiles withal, to welcome me when I shall rejoin thee.--Go, go,
my love!" he said, and affectionately embraced her.
He sat for some time reading and writing, for the papers were of
importance. He now arose from his chair, and was about to retire to his
happy chamber, when a loud and hollow knock was heard at the portal
gates; the watch dogs were aroused, and loudly and deeply barked. The
old porter cautiously and slowly opened the lattice peep-hole of the
gate to ask, who at this unseasonable hour of the night it was that
would fain demand admittance? The answer given was, that he was a
king's messenger bearing despatches of importance for Sir David Bruce,
and as the glimmering lamp was held forth, he showed the silver badge,
the insignia of his office. The wicket-gate was instantly unbarred, and
he was accordingly admitted. The messenger was shown into the servants'
hall, where supper and refreshments were immediately brought him; and
while he was regaling upon the hospitable cheer of the castle, a bed
was put in readiness for him. Sir David Bruce having seen that all was
as it should be, retired to his chamber.
It was midnight, the fire in the bridal chamber brightly blazed, and
the wax-lights shot forth their brilliant beams. Sir David seated
himself on a chair beside the bed, and having gently drawn aside the
curtain, he affectionately embraced his bride, while he kindly said,
"My dear Adelaide, I always have been of opinion that no secret nor
mystery should ever exist between man and wife. I know, my love, that
your understanding ranks too high, your love for me is too great,
and your opinion of my character is too elevated ever to induce you,
in any shape or form, to pry into what I may not think necessary to
disclose. For indeed _you_ do not aspire to that _superior wisdom_
which some of your sex rather somewhat too confidently and arrogantly
assume; the true term and appellation of which properly should be
called _not_ wisdom, but _superior curiosity_! But, my dear love, in
strictest verity I may say of thee, before our happy union, in foreign
realms, and in perilous tracts over land and ocean, that I have ever
witnessed thy equanimity of temper, and always have found thee one and
the same;--ever unchanged and unchangeable! and indeed I know no one
(not even your noble and highly gifted mother) who could, with more
propriety than yourself, assume the motto of the virgin queen--
'Semper eadem!'"
"Oh, my dear husband!" rejoined Adelaide, "although delighted ever
to hear _your_ praise, yet when you would overstep the due and meet
boundaries of discretion, and, forsooth, make of me an ideal goddess,
it is meet and due time, that stepping down from the lofty pedestal
whereon thou hast been graciously pleased to rear thy fond idol,
for me to intrude a word or two, if it were but to dispel the charm
which fascinates thee, recall thy wandering thoughts from paradise
to earth, and convince thee, at least, that I am but a mere mortal;
and, moreover, a woman to boot, with all a woman's faults--yea, too,
my love, with all a woman's fondness, and the love that no tongue can
utter; and thus I swear it upon thy beloved lips, my first, my only
love!"
"Oh, my adorable Adelaide," he said, while he met the fond embrace,
"let this blessed moment be ever sacred in our recollection! dawning
with hope and promised joy on all our future days. Oh, my Adelaide,
imperishable let this happy, too happy hour remain, and ever marked
and stamped by a holy communion of heart and mind! Your taste shall
be mine, your liking shall be my liking, your joy be my joy, and your
sorrows (if ever they come) shall be all mine own!--thy disgrace would
become my disgrace, and mine would be attended with yours! But now I
only look upon the happy obverse of the medal, when I pause on your
beauty, your accomplishments, your virtue, and your religion! for
without the latter a woman is a monster, and man little less than a
demon. You must now permit me to say, that you are the theme of every
tongue, the charm of every eye, the idol of every heart, and the bright
ornament of every circle, that might fairly, at thy throne,
'Bid kings come bow to it!'"
"Oh, my dear Bruce, you will turn my brain--no more of hyperbole!"
"Nay, Adelaide, nay! can I think on all these, and yet not feel the
thrill of transport throbbing at my heart?--quite impossible!--it
could not be so, my love! Between us then let there ever exist a holy
communion of soul that shall support and bear us onward throughout the
trials of this stormy world, gilding the days of health and happiness,
and not deserting us when years increase, and health declines; for
even then the Hymenial torch shall brightly burn, although it may be
with a mild, yet steady light, and only expire upon the tomb! Believe
me the true and indissoluble bond of conjugal affection is no other
than an unreserved and reciprocal interchange of every thought, plan,
purpose, and design. Enduring, meanwhile, a contented participation
of fortune, whether it be prosperous or adverse; possessing only _one
will_, _one mind_, and _one heart_, thus harmoniously resembling a
finely performed air of music, where three voices melodiously melt
into one, and close in full and perfect diapason. Oh, my dear love, if
this conjugal--this perfect harmony, were, as it ought to be, always
preserved, what follies might not be avoided!--what heart-burnings
would ever exist!--what horrible vice might not be shunned!--and what
dread and horrid disgrace might not be prevented! When oft, my love, at
evening time retired in our tranquil solitude, I shall there retrace
the events and transactions of the day that has gone by, then, then,
shall I tell thee of aught perchance which I may have observed in thy
conduct or deportment to censure or to praise. Oh, with what delight
I shall dwell upon all that I approve, while with gentleness I pass
over what I may discommend. And the same sincerity, sweet love, I shall
expect from thee; thou shalt, as in a tablet, set down all my faults
and misdemeanors. It is thus that we shall best fulfil the holy compact
which we entered into yesterday--of abiding by each other in sickness,
sorrow, or in health, in adversity, or in prosperity! And now let me
seal this sacred bond by this warm pressure on thy lips. Thus, my
Adelaide, we ratify this deed of co-partnership!"
He then added playfully, "Certes I ever have been of opinion that,
although corporeally speaking, man and wife are two bodies, yet am I
at the same time of opinion that they should have between them but one
mind. However, I am altogether not unreasonable withal, and therefore
feel not disinclined to allow them _the firm_ of TWO hearts;
but I ever must protest against dissolution of partnership!"
Then sweetly smiling, he said, "Here, my love, I bear in my hand
despatches of high importance, and brought by a king's messenger; I
needs must cut their silken tressure ere I can peruse the contents
thereof; pray you therefore direct me, my dearest love, where I may
find your _etui_, or work-box, as I now stand in need of a penknife, or
your ladyship's shears, to cut the silky-gordian knot of this important
packet?"
Adelaide replied, "Truly, my dearest love, I do not know where to
direct you, the events of yesterday have quite caused me to forget;
but open yonder cabinet of ebon, inlaid with ivory, which stands in
yonder recess, search it, perhaps there a penknife or shears may be
found."
"_May_ find! Adelaide, nay now, thou art what truly I did not suspect
that thou wert, a most unthrifty housewife!"
Sir David Bruce approached the cabinet; it contained many curious
and secret drawers; at length sprung forth one opened by a spring,
which unconsciously he had touched, when the drawer fell from the
cabinet, and lo! forth was flung from it, and, to his infinite horror
and surprise, he saw, and scarce could believe his eyes, a whinger!
[_i. e._ a Scottish knife or poniard, answering for both purposes,]
which trundled on the floor with a foreboding sound. The handle was of
silver, richly wrought; it bore the crest of Bruce, namely, a dexter
hand and arm cased in armour, wielding a royal sceptre, and supported
on a cap of maintenance; and beneath was engraved the motto of The
Bruce, FUIMUS! While, oh! horrible to tell, deeply were
imprinted "on the blade and dudgeon gouts of blood," and which seemed
to have been there "long before," rusted and corroded as they were by
time. Oh, when this was done it was
"In human guilt a portent and an era!
'Tis of those crimes whose eminent fame hell joys at;
And the celestial angels that look on it
Wish their keen airy vision dim and narrow!"
Maddened with furious rage, he frantic raised the gory poniard from
the ground, and rushing with dreadful impetuosity to the bed-side, he
presented the fatal dagger at Adelaide's heart.
"Oh strike--strike Sir David, and by _thy_ hand let me die! But indeed,
indeed, I am innocent!"
"Thou, innocent!--hah, hah, hah!" with a violent hysteric expression he
repeated--"_Innocent!_--thou witch, fiend, sorceress, devil!---- _Thou_
innocent!--no, no!--thou hast held unholy converse and communion with
the arch-fiend, and with all the demons of darkness and of hell! But
tell!--come, this instant tell! or on this spot--aye, thy bridal bed,
thou surely shalt die--this moment thou shalt die! Tell at once then,
how, where, and when, from whom didst thou receive?--No, no deceit, no
prevarication will be allowed nor tolerated. Tell, oh tell, thou devil,
although moulded in an angel's form! Tell, I conjure thee tell!"
"Oh, spare--spare me, and I shall tell thee all!--each particular shalt
thou know. It---- It was upon the _Eve of All-Hallows_, some ten years
ago--I forget the year--when foolishly, with some young friends, upon
my birth-day, of which it was the fatal anniversary, I impiously dared
to tempt my fate, or try my fortune, by one of those mystic accursed
tricks that are too oft resorted to--"
"Come, come, less words, lady, and more facts! I demand expedition,
for my impatience cannot brook delay; so come, continue thy accursed
tale----quickly proceed!"
"Oh, terrible to recollect, and still more terrible to tell. It was
midnight! and, true to his compact, the phantom, whom I had charmed,
appeared in my chamber at the same time of night as now. I had caused
a collation to be served, consisting of viands, fruits, confections,
and wine; which were placed upon a table in the centre of the room;
a chair was placed near it, between the table and the fire; upon
another table was displayed the toilette, where were placed a silver
basin, napkin, and a golden ewer, which was filled with rose-water,
and bestrewed with flowers. The fire blazed brilliantly bright, and
wax-lights shed their lustre on the collation. Meanwhile, trembling
fearfully, I lay in my bed, with my back to the light; upon the
counterpane I had stationed a large mirror, (with a trembling hand and
a palpitating heart,) in order that I might behold distinctly reflected
on its polished surface the image of whatever object might place itself
at either of the tables, which, from the position in which I was
placed, I could not fail to see. Thus stationed, was heard a fearful
rumbling sound, as if issuing down the chamber chimney; then followed
a noise, loud and like to the electric shock of a thunderbolt, which
sounded as if it had burst through the chimney-flue, and from whence
was forcibly flung, with an astounding crash, upon the hearth-stone
of this very chamber, that same dread and fearful instrument which
you now uphold! Sad, sorrowful, and dreadful is the recollection. Yet
still I had the courage to look upon the mirror which I held, when I
instantly and fearfully saw reflected in it a cloud of blue flame,
which illuminated within its cloud of fire, exposed suddenly a tall
and manly chieftain, whose figure boldly emanating from the mist which
surrounded it, seemed clad in a Tartan plaid; his head was covered, or
crowned, with a Scottish bonnet, adorned with plumes, and surmounted by
the Scottish thistle, which sparkled in gold embroidery. The figure,
or spectre, or whatever that unsightly vision might be, held forth to
me his hands, which were bloody; he then sat down to the banquet; he
tasted, but eat not; sipped, but he did not drink: and then on the
sudden arose from his seat, slightly dipped his hands in rose-water,
and applied the napkin. This at the time did virtually all appear a
vision, dreadfully reflected within the glass which I held on my
couch. Yea, you look amazed! but I did see it all, and am too well
convinced it was _no vision_!--for still horribly, even now through the
lapse of years, I see it still! fresh in my memory, and never, never to
be forgotten! While thus, all terrified and petrified, I looked upon
the awful form, or spectre; frightfully and passionately it grinned
upon me a demon's smile, and said in deep sepulchral voice:
With this red hand, thou Adelaide shalt wed,
And keep this trophy for our bridal bed!
The phantom then, or whatever it was, fiercely took up the dagger,
and dashed it horribly against the mirror I held, which it shivered
into pieces. Then the bloody instrument fell upon the floor, and the
spectre vanished: while I fell into a dreadful trance, which lasted
for hours, and from which I grieve that ever I did waken to witness
this most wretched night! While the phantom vanished, the heavens
loudly thundered, and the vivid lightning illumed this fatal chamber.
Oh, the crash of the mirror I never can forget, nor the ominous fall
of the blood-stained dagger as it fearfully trundled upon the oaken
floor!--these two ominous circumstances too surely manifested that this
was _no dream_! Oh no, they pierced my heart to conviction! That dread
and awful moment of my life I never can forget!--only to be equalled,
and only to be outdone, by the agonies which now I so severely undergo
in this unhappy hour! Oh, Sir David, in pity at once kill me, and end
my sorrow and my suffering together!--you hold the bloody instrument,
oh then strike!--strike, there's my bosom!--I fear not to die--oh
kill me, I beseech thee!--in mercy, at once destroy me! But, oh, do
not--do not look thus again!--It was thus the awful spectre looked,
while thus the fire flashed from his visage!--Thus! it was _thus_ he
frowned! and like thee he spoke! Oh--oh, I never saw thee look thus
before!--never, never! _Ah!_ THOU!--_thou!_ THYSELF _wert_ THAT
_spectre_!!"
"No, no, Adelaide, no! I looked not thus; it was the infernal fiend,
from the lowest depth of hell, that looked thus, and then assumed my
shape and form! At that moment I was on ship-board, Dr. M'Kenzie was
my fellow-voyager, who can vouch for the same; we had then left the
Scottish shore, and the destination of the vessel was for Ireland.
This weapon, which now I hold, I then flung into the hissing waves,
when unearthly voices and unearthly music met mine ear, and smote my
heart!--Oh, it was then that I suffered the deep-thrilling agonizing
horrors of the damned. The arch-fiend, I felt, was working in my bosom;
and strongly, desperately, was I tempted to fling myself into the
same remorseless element into which I had flung this blood-besprent
instrument--the damned testimony of my crime; and by so doing end
at once my earthly misery! But even then I lifted up my humble
supplication to heaven, although with crimsoned hands! I fell into a
trance, and lay to all appearance lifeless upon the deck.---- You seem
to doubt!"
"Oh, yes, yes; I see it all!--that frown--that look! Oh, thou, thou,
wert that horrible spectre!"
Having thus replied, poor Adelaide, with a piteous, heart-rending
scream, and to all appearance as if life had fled, sunk down, pale and
ghastly as a corse, upon her pillow. It was indeed some time before Sir
David could bring her to herself. When the hapless Adelaide recovered
from her faint, he said: "My reproaches now are at an end. For you now
are the object of my compassion and of my pity, not of my wrath. It is
however true, that although infernal agents have given you a husband,
yet know they have not the power to cause me to remain with you one
hour more!--There I am a free agent. No, no!--not Lucifer himself shall
detain me here!--no, nor all thy witchery! Within a short hour, or
less, I depart from hence, and never, never more to return; and I shall
be no more seen!"
With a desperate grasp, then stooping, he seized and held up the
fatal dagger, the deadly record of his grief--the _sævi monumentum
doloris_--the bloody pledge of his crime--the avengeful instrument of
his rage, stamped with the crimsoned tears of unabated and unabatable
grief!... "Yet before I go, look, lady, upon that dagger!--whose
blood, think you, it is with which it is imbued?--You shall hear!...
That once was noble blood--it was valiant blood--the proudest blood of
Caledon--the blood of her royal race of kings! And, oh, wretch that
I am!--it was the blood of my brother--my only brother!--yea, and my
elder born! rashly, madly, wickedly shed by me!--yes!... Oh, still
gaze upon it--turn not thine eyes away. It was blood nearly, deeply,
none nearer, allied to me, and beloved. But, but this--all this was
forgot in the moment of delirium--of madness! It was the blood of my
elder brother--yea, an only brother!... Oh, Adelaide, look not thus
again!--my weary, sickening heart, condemns me enough---- enough. Well,
well, we lived in the same home, we partook of the same board, we slept
in the same bed.... Oh, oh my brain, how it maddens! and my heart would
fain burst!... Yet, yet, yet I slew him--in rage, madness, I did!--I
did, I did--monster that I am!... Lady, behold I weep!--Ah, I did
not weep when my poor brother died!--and when this I plunged into his
beloved breast!--No, no, no! But it is just, it is truly just, that
heaven's vengeance should make this base instrument of my crime, this
fratricidal dagger, the fatal cause which now separates me from all
happiness upon earth; and divorces me, body and soul, from thee--oh,
whom I loved better--yea, beyond life itself! But time advances, and I
must depart from hence--oh, and for ever! One parting look, and then
I am gone. Oh, thou precious mischief!--so young, so fascinating, so
beautiful! Oh, my very heart shall burst!... Yet, yet--oh, must it
be!--and must we part?... Lady, from hence I go, and shall be no more
seen; peradventure too no more be remembered. Well, well, let justice
have its vengeance and its victim too! Yes, yes, let it be so."
Here, pallid as death, and woe-stricken, he gave one sad, one last,
agonizing look upon that face that he had so well beloved--the face
of one with whom to part were worse than death itself. Then sad and
sorrowful, in a dejected tone, he said:--"Oh, Adelaide, we have loved
as others yet have never loved; now heart-broken and sorrow-stricken I
here must bid a sad and solemn farewell. Yet, oh, must we part?--Yes,
we _must_ part--oh, and for _ever_! Never, never again in this wide
world to meet!--again, never! Oh, farewell--one sad, one sorrowful
farewell, and hence I go.... Farewell! forgive and forget, if thou
canst forget (to forgive were impossible) that such a wretched outcast
exists as David Bruce!"
Here he sobbed like a child, while he slowly and silently withdrew,
gently closing after him the chamber door. But suddenly he returned,
and approaching the bed-side, he thus addressed Adelaide: "It were best
that the mournful tale which now I have disclosed to thee, as well too
as thine own, should be kept inviolably secret, and remain for ever
unknown. Divulge not then thine own criminal weakness; neither expose
the enormity of my guilt. Oh, how often and often have I wished, have I
longed for, aye, and have courted death;--yea often too have I keenly
sought him in flood and field. But in vain. It almost seemed as if I
had borne a charmed life. Often I
"Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone;
And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open
The breast of heaven, I did present myself
Even in the aim and very flash of it,"
in anxious hope that it might strike a guilty fratricide dead!---- Now,
now, you must say, and swear too, upon this blood-stained
poniard!--swear never--no, never! to reveal what this sad and eventful
night has developed; save it be upon your death-bed alone that you may
divulge it. Come, I demand thy oath; I must have thy solemn oath--thy
sanctified oath of secrecy! But I will not place that horrid instrument
to thy lips, to swear by! No, no! I could not do it--I would not.
Oh, no--if even past joys and hopes again were to return--no! But
there--there, place thy hand upon that horrible instrument of my deep
damnation! Swear upon it!--solemnly swear upon that blood-besprent
dagger. Swear!--I charge thee, swear!---- Oh, yet weep not, my poor
Adelaide! Oh, no!--weep not thus, my Adelaide, or I forego my purpose;
and soon, then, this dagger shall be plunged into mine own guilty
bosom!---- Thou hast heard me---- my love! Oh, yes, yes, my love; for
still, oh, still art thou dear to me--dearer than life--ay, or even the
blessed hopes of ******!--although we never may meet again!---- There,
I beseech thee! yet there place thy hand upon that instrument
of my torture--of my unspeakable woe--and of my deep and deadly
crime.--Swear!
Adelaide firmly clasped the fatal instrument, and then exclaimed: "I
swear, I solemnly swear, to observe to the very letter all thou hast
now enjoined!"
"Oh," replied he, dejected and overcome, "how cold, how deadly cold,
is thy hand, my poor, poor Adelaide!--frozen as are all my hopes,
and chilled, chilled--deadly chilled as is my own wretched heart's
blood. Oh, I shall lose my reason! Oh God, what an hour is this? But
pardon me, thou Almighty power. It was I, the impassioned wretch,
that flew forth in thy defiance, like another branded criminal--the
blood-besprinkled Cain, whose mark, I fear, is stamped upon my forehead
and in my heart. But, oh, great and dread Omnipotent, thou art truly
just--and I am guilty. Most justly do I confess that I am punished
as I ought to be, by thy retributive justice, even upon earth--the
irreparable loss of her whom no earthly power upon this habitable spot
of earth can ever alleviate or redeem!--never, never, never!"
While Sir David Bruce impassionately and woefully said this, he fell
prostrate, and cold, and lifeless, upon the floor of the bridal chamber.
To describe the emotions of Adelaide, would be to attempt indeed an
impracticable task. It was so truly horrifying and affecting, that it
must wholly be left to the imagination of the feeling reader. It was
some time before Sir David recovered from this overpowering blow of
affliction. When he did recover, he said mournfully:--
"Sorrow has paralyzed me; and I who often have cleft in twain the
helmet of the foeman, now shrink and bend before thee, my much-injured
love. A guilty conscience hath unmanned me quite. But oh, my poor
Adelaide, time presses onward; the night wears apace, and I must now
conclude the few words which I have to say to thee. You must tell the
duke and duchess--boldly, as it is true, to account for the rapidity
of my departure--that the import of the despatches received, which are
from the Elector Palatine of Brandenburgh, in whose service I fought
at the battle of the Boyne, bear with them life or death, and I must
instantly depart. Thus summoned so suddenly, say to them, and kindly
say, that I could not await their arising for the slow ceremony of
leave-taking, but that I was forced to hasten forthwith, even amidst
the cold and darkness of midnight, with all the expedition I might.
And ... when hence I am gone, and thou shalt silently sit in judgment
on my passion, and upon my crime, and shalt pronounce condemnation on
the destroyer of a brother's life, and of a wife's happiness--oh, even
then still think how fervently, how affectionately, how devotedly, I
loved thee;--yea, and in _my very heart's core_!... And now a long
farewell--for ever farewell. Mayst thou obtain that peace that is to me
denied and lost in this world for ever!"
Having thus said, sad, sorrowful, and slow, he descended from the
bridal chamber, the tears streaming adown his manly cheeks. Meantime
he had lighted a lamp which lay in the recess, and bearing it in his
hand, with cautious and silent step, he descended the staircase; and
having gone out at the postern, he proceeded to the stables, where,
having called up his faithful servant, he ordered his horses instantly
to be saddled, and in less than half an hour all was in readiness for
his departure,--servant, horses, travelling valise, &c. &c. And now
Sir David, and his faithful servant Malcolm, who had attended him
at the battle of the Boyne, proceeded beneath the embattled portal
of Tyrconnel Castle, never again to return. The solitary bittern
mournfully boomed as they rode along the lonely marsh, and the
startled eagle from his lofty eirie-crag loudly shrieked, awakened by
the tramp of the horse-hoofs, which were deeply re-echoed through this
stilly solitude, in the dark and dismal hour of midnight.
Oh, what pen can write, what tongue can tell, what heart can feel, save
the heart which deeply hath felt it, how bitter are the pangs of a
wounded spirit, when love becomes horribly transformed into rancorous
and deadly hate! Oh, happy it were then that "the silver cord were
loosened, and the golden bowl were broken," what time the sweet bond of
harmony snapt suddenly in twain, dissevered by a rude and discordant
crash, when two fond, faithful, and affectionate hearts, are changed
in one short, sad, and eventful moment--becoming, alas, fatally and
irrevocably estranged and separated for ever.
"Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure,
Thrill the deepest notes of woe!"