MAN PROPOSES, GOD DISPOSES.
Though I loitered about at the Hotel as much as possible, I found I had
made the usual mistake of impatient people; wasted as much time by too
rapid as by too slow a movement; and it still wanted some minutes to
twelve o'clock when I took the now familiar path to the Priory, smiling
to myself at the natural home-like feeling with which I looked forward
to seeing them all again. It is extraordinary what rapid strides to
intimacy sympathy enables one to make! All was profoundly still in the
churchyard as I opened the wicket and bent my head to enter the low
arch. All looked as neat and well kept as ever.
Nurse answered my ring, in bonnet and cloak, and welcomed me with a
joyous "Ah! Captin jew'l, is it yerself that's in it?"
Her loud exclamations brought Miss Vernon to the drawing-room door. She
paused for a moment; and, then advancing, seconded nurse's greeting
very warmly.
"We did not expect you quite so soon; and grandpapa has gone with Mr.
Winter to look at a farm of his a little way out of the town; I hope
Cyclops will not upset them," she added, laughing. "I am so glad you
are come."
"And I have been counting the hours till I escaped from Carrington to
the ecclesiastical repose of your retreat," said I, following her into
the the drawing room, as usual redolent of flowers.
"You are the most tranquilly disposed Dragoon I ever met," she
returned; "but I see you have got your portfolio."
"Yes, I have brought you the sketches you wished for."
"Oh, thank you, Captain Egerton, it is so good of you; you do not know
what pleasure you give me; let me look at them."
"Here is a view of the house from the east."
"Oh yes, yes, how like! that was my school room window, and the flower
garden down here. Nurse must see this; come here, Nurse."
Mrs. O'Toole came at the call.
"Did you ever see any place like that?" asked her young mistress.
"Musha, then it makes me heart sore to look at it there, an' the rale
place so far away," said Nurse, crossing herself. "Och! God be with
ould times! The blessin' of Heaven rest on ye, Dungar! Many's the
bright day I seen in ye! Och! Miss Kate, avourneen, look at the little
garden gate, where we used to go listen to Paddy Doolan's fairy tales,
an' the crather so dirty I darn't let him up into the house; an' the
Captin dhrew it himself!"
Here Mrs. O'Toole ceased her comments, perceiving from her young lady's
silence, and glistening eyes, that her memory was even more vividly
awakened.
"There is the old church yard where the people were so fond of burying
their relatives; with a peep at the round tower," said I, substituting
a less "home" scene, to assist her in recovering herself. "Do you
recognise this view? the cliffs near the shore, and the broad Atlantic,
with the Cruakmore hills in the distance?"
"Oh yes, yes! and this one; look, Nurse, the dingle, and Andy the
fisherman."
"The Lord save us, is'nt the very moral of Andy; the ould thief, to
have a right honourable drawing him."
"Very rude sketches, Miss Vernon; I was then even a greater tyro than
now."
"They are worth whole galleries of Raphaels and Titians to me," said
she with a sigh.
My sketch of the view from the window was much admired; Miss Vernon
pronounced it excellent, quite worthy of Mr. Winter's approval. After
a few more remarks, I observed that I would not detain her, as I
perceived she was in walking costume.
"We were going across the river," she replied, "on an errand I should
like to accomplish; what are you going to do? Grandpapa and Mr. Winter
both away, you had better come with us."
To this frank invitation I replied, "Most willingly, wherever you
choose to lead me."
A message being left with Mrs. O'Toole's sub, for Colonel Vernon,
informing him of my arrival, in case his return should precede ours,
and Nurse having crammed some additional articles into a basket already
overflowing, Miss Vernon stepped through the open window, calling
Cormac, who soon made his appearance, noticing me in a grave and
dignified manner. Mrs. O'Toole and I followed our fair conductress
down the sloping pleasure ground, now gay with many coloured dahlias;
at the bottom of which a small door led into a road by the river side.
Nurse produced a ponderous key, and carefully locked it after us. We
turned to the left, and I walked between Mrs. O'Toole and her nursling,
who looked charmingly in her cotton morning dress and her cottage straw
bonnet, with its white ribbon; her luxuriant brown hair doing away with
all necessity for the curious floral exhibitions ladies usually display
under theirs.
"Nothing new or strange has occurred here since you went," said Miss
Vernon, in a quiet, confidential tone; "grandpapa has been very well,
and quite looked forward to seeing you again. Mr. Winter has been very
busy driving Cyclops hither and thither, and twice got into a ditch;
and Miss Araminta Cox and Mrs. Winter agree in saying you are not at
all the sort of person they expected a Cavalry officer to be."
"Errah! what do the likes of thim know about Cavalry officers?"
exclaimed nurse, _en parenthèse_.
"What did they expect?" said I, laughing, "something very terrific, in
the raw head and bloody bones style, I suppose?"
"I told them I had always found Dragoons very harmless, inoffensive
people," replied Miss Vernon, an arch glance displacing the pensive
depth of expression her eyes had assumed when gazing at the sketches of
her old home.
"Indeed!" said I, with some pique, "well meaning creatures, useful
about a house."
Miss Vernon laughed, "I see you would prefer being dreaded by Miss
Araminta Cox, so I'll not take your part any more."
We had by this time reached a sort of rude pier, shaded by a few old
thorn trees, limes, and horse chesnuts; an irregular rugged red stone
wall, which, sometimes retiring, sometimes advancing, followed the
course of the road, formed a very suitable back ground; and just here
an arch of heavy stone work sheltered a clear and deep well; beside
the little landing place lay a large flat-bottomed boat, and at its
bow sat a huge, rough, grizzled boatman, in a hairy cap and horn
spectacles, (looking coeval with the Priory Tower, which was visible
above the trees), intently reading a well thumbed book.
"Elijah!" called out Mrs. O'Toole. I started at the scriptural
appellation. "Elijah! The onfortunate ould sinner is making his sowl;
he's as deaf as a stone. Elijah Bush, I say!"
"Ho, Cormac," said Miss Vernon.
The old man looked up, as the hound stepped on the gunnel and shook the
boat; and raising his cap, came forward, apologising respectfully for
his pre-occupation.
"It bai'nt so often I get a sight of the Ward," said he, in a broad
Cumberland accent, "but I'm main glad to see you."
Miss Vernon replied courteously.
"Elijah, honey, is there e'er a throut to be got to day," said Nurse.
"Not as I knows on, Marm; I did see Davy Jones passing on here, sure
enough, with the rods; but he hadn't took nothink then."
"A'then, just look out for him like a good Christian, and tell him if
he's caught even the ghost of one, to have it up at the house, mind,
now."
"Ay sure," said Elijah.
"Ah! what'll I do at all at all," said Mrs. O'Toole to Miss Vernon, in
accents of great concern, "if I can't get a throut for the Captin?"
"I dare say he will kindly endeavour to dine without one," she replied.
"Then I am to have the pleasure of dining with you," said I.
"Of course," said Kate, opening her eyes, "where else would you dine?"
I handed her into the boat, and after carefully assisting Mrs. O'Toole,
who accepted my _petits soins_ with a "Musha, but I'm well attinded,"
took my seat beside her.
A few vigorous strokes from Elijah's oars brought us across, and we
were standing at the foot of the broken rocky bank visible from the
windows of the cottage.
"Is there much custom at your ferry now?" asked Miss Vernon as we paid
him.
"Not much to speak of, but I gets my crust; and at all events the Lord
will provide," he said, raising his cap.
"Holy Vargin, listen to that now!" said Mrs. O'Toole with much fervour,
"you're a mighty religious man entirely, Elijah; faith, Father
Macdermott could'nt hould a candle to you, tho' he laid the Divil at
Innishogue."
"Good bye," said her young lady, "we will be back in about an hour,
Elijah."
Climbing the steep bank, we stood for a few moments at the top to look
at the cottage, peeping prettily out from between the ivy-grown old
church and the spreading oak I have before described; then following
the path across the meadow where they were cutting the after grass, we
fell into marching order, Mrs. O'Toole at one side of Kate, and I at
the other, Cormac walking soberly between us.
It was a regular autumnal day--clear, calm, and grey, with a slight
crispness in the air, an _avant courier_ of frost. The wood through
which the path soon led us, brilliant with all the variegated tints
peculiar to the season, and fragrant with the odour of the gums exuding
from the fir trees and young larches, seemed of tolerable extent, and
now and then a pheasant would rise suddenly, with a whirr through
the air, almost from our feet. A few withered leaves already strewed
the ground, and nature appeared in her fullest beauty, though it was
evident she was on the turning point. Occasionally we caught a glimpse
of the river, and frequently heard it fretting against the rocks, which
here and there opposed its progress.
Miss Vernon often paused to draw my attention to any picture, as she
termed it, that struck her fancy; sometimes it was a long glade almost
over-arched with leafy boughs, still retaining in their sheltered
position the freshness of early summer, with a line of blue country
beyond; sometimes it was a single tree of peculiar beauty, now a few
old moss-grown trunks forgotten by the woodcutter, now a peep at a
cottage chimney, with blue curling smoke at the other side of the
river; every thing, from the rich green grass, and the endless variety
of wild creepers, to the dry exhilarating atmosphere, seemed to be a
source of joyous, grateful pleasure to her happy nature, gifted, as it
appeared to be, with so deep a power of enjoyment. I found something
contagious in her airy gaiety, and the extraordinarily keen sense of
nature's beauty with which she was endowed, and asked her why it was
she did not pursue drawing more steadily.
"I do not know," she replied; "it does not seem to come so naturally to
me as music, though no one revels in scenery more delightedly than I
do. Are you not obliged to me for this walk?"
"Indeed I am, I shall not soon forget it."
"What strange mixtures we are," said Miss Vernon; "I felt so sad after
looking at those drawings of Dungar; and now it seems to me as if the
mere sense of existence is happiness enough. Ah, there is a great
deal that is delightful in this life of ours, let poets and popular
preachers say of it what they will."
"It's only hearts like yours, avourneen, that draw the sunshine round
them," said Mrs. O'Toole.
"True, Miss Vernon," I observed; "but what long intervals of much that
is unpleasant--what bitter mortifications!"
"Yes," she replied; "but there is no life so sad that it has not
something sweet also."
"When the curse of poverty falls on you, and holds you back from the
accomplishment of all your soul most longs for," I said.
"Ah, that would be terrible indeed," said she, a little startled at my
vehemence; "but do you know poverty is not so dreadful."
"Och! then, God help you Miss Kate, what do you know about poverty?
sure givin' up a fine house an' horses, an' carriages, an' grandeur, is
bad enough; but for poverty, wait till the crathers ye love call to ye
for bread, an' ye havn't the screed of a pitaty to give them--that's
poverty. Isn't that dreadful? The blessed Saver shield ye from it,
darlint, any how."
"And to think that your own folly had placed you in such," I observed,
not minding nurse.
"Then I am quite sure," said Miss Vernon, "that a steadfast resignation
to what you brought on yourself, an unmurmuring struggle to retrieve,
would work its own cure; there is so much strength in perfect
submission!"
"Ay, for woman."
"And for man too; how can your boldness and wisdom guard against the
future any more than our dependence? we can only use the present to the
best of our abilities, and leave the rest to God."
I remained silently pondering over her words, while she turned to
Nurse.--"Dear Nurse, I forgot, indeed, what real poverty was as I
spoke; many a one is sinking in such a struggle as you describe, I
fear; still there's rest before them."
"Thrue for ye, the Heavens be their bed! Amen."
"How did we come to scare ourselves with such gloomy thoughts, Captain
Egerton? Let us enjoy this lovely day, and leave the sorrows we cannot
remove in better hands. There is the keeper's cottage; will you sit
here until we have spoken to his daughter? we will not be long."
A young woman, supporting a sickly-looking child, appeared in the
porch; a tolerably long conference ensued. Nurse opened the basket,
the contents of which were received with great pleasure, and the pale
boy tried to climb into Kate's arms; she sat down and spoke to him
with a smile, to which he responded, as if glad to be with her. Cormac
sat gravely by me, making some advances towards greater intimacy in a
dignified way.
I see the whole picture before me even now; the keeper's pretty
cottage, with the rich back ground of autumnal trees, the rustic porch,
Nurse and the girl emptying the basket, and Miss Vernon, her shawl
falling off one shoulder, bending over the child, who looked up at her
with a sort of half wondering, half pleased expression.
At length the visit was over, Kate put down the child; and followed for
a few steps by its curtseying attendant, rejoined me; Cormac rose as if
his responsibility was at an end, and we turned towards home.
Dismissing all the gloomy forebodings Miss Vernon's words had conjured
up, I determined to do away with any evil impression my observations
might have created, and our walk back was a "right _merrie_" one. Mrs.
O'Toole, throwing in from time to time her shrewd caustic remarks, and
Kate's sweet joyous laugh, rousing the echoes from their slumbers; many
a half forgotten incident of our former acquaintance was recalled, and
Nurse's reminiscences of our exploits, when I used occasionally to join
her nursling in a game of romps, called up many a smile on my side, and
a few blushes on that of Miss Vernon.
We could perceive the Colonel on the look out for us, when we reached
the top of the bank. Mrs. O'Toole having satisfied herself that David
Jones had taken more than the ghost of a throut, hurried forward to
exercise her skill on the fruit of his labours, leaving the garden gate
open for our more tardy approach. The Colonel received me with his
accustomed polished kindness; Nurse surpassed herself in the exquisite
dressing of the trout; Gilpin dropped in to tea, joined in praising my
sketches, sang a duet with Kate, and played some beautiful airs, while
the Colonel was beating me in three consecutive games of chess. The
three succeeding days winged themselves away with wonderful rapidity; I
sketched and argued with Winter; prescribed for his wife's pug dog, who
was affected with the snuffles; and lounged in and out of the Priory,
as if I was one of its rightful inmates. What pleasant mornings they
were! sometimes reading aloud to the Colonel and his granddaughter;
sometimes assisting the latter in the garden; occasionally learning
the second in a duet, and getting a scolding for inattention; while
Miss Vernon pursued her usual avocations of work or writing, or obeyed
Nurse's summons to disentangle accounts, or consult about dinner,
in the same easy unembarrassed manner, I have before endeavoured to
describe; always real, always earnest, her every occupation seemed
graceful and suitable; and the calm continuance of her usual routine,
completely removed the uncomfortable idea of being in the way, which
more ceremonious attention would have conveyed.
How dangerous all this! how thoroughly I felt my heart imbued with
the sweet homelike influence of this every day companionship, yet I
was astonishingly prudent, not altogether in consequence of Burton's
admonitions; I dreaded to break the repose of our intercourse,
and more than all, the frankness and friendliness of Miss Vernon's
manner, opposed a stronger barrier to the least approach to "love
making," than the stiffest prudery that ever was inculcated in a
first-rate establishment for young ladies. Once, and only once, when
some expression of the irrepressible tenderness and admiration I felt
growing on me, escaped my lips almost unconsciously, Miss Vernon
blushed and started, as if some sudden revelation had flashed across
her mind, and, for a moment looked grave, almost displeased, but the
next instant, apparently dismissing whatever thought had disturbed her,
she was her own unembarrassed self again.
The Saturday after my return to A---- was Miss Vernon's birthday, and
Winter surprised her with an admirably painted and life-like likeness
of her grandfather.
The delight of Kate, the exclamations of Nurse, the enjoyment of
Winter, may be imagined; the whole party, including Gilpin, assisted
at its formal induction in the place of honour over the mantel-piece,
_vice_ John Anderson transferred to a position at the end of the room,
Kate professing a great regard for the print; I distinguished myself on
the occasion by my skilful picture-hanging, Mrs. O'Toole holding the
ladder, on which I mounted to perform the service.
We had a very merry party at dinner, and drank Miss Vernon's health,
and everybody's health.
I proposed Mrs. O'Toole's in an eloquent oration, to which she (having
been called in to honour the toast of the evening) replied, "Success to
ye Captin, musha, but ye'r a grate spaker entirely. Here's your health,
Miss Kate, and blessins on ye, me darlin; more power to the masther,
and long may he reign over us, I pray God."
Before we separated Winter proposed a sketching expedition to a ruin
of much beauty and some interest, about eight miles from A----, and
Miss Vernon suggested a pic nic to include the party there assembled.
"We can hire Edward's phaeton, and Mr. Winter is independent of livery
stables; Cyclops will no doubt leave us far behind, but we will
endeavour to come in for the fragments of the feast."
"If you promise to behave yourself," replied he, "I'll give you a seat
in my buggy."
"Suppose, my dear," said Mrs. Winter, "we were to take tea at the farm,
on our return; it is about half way?"
"Thank you, my dear, an excellent idea."
"A delightful suggestion, Mrs. Winter," said Miss Vernon.
"Then the programme is," said Winter, "an early drive over to Mowbray
Castle, a good morning's work there; dinner at two o'clock and tea at
five, and syllabubs at the farm."
"An admirable plan," observed the Colonel.
"There is nothing I like better than a real impromptu pic nic," I
observed.
"And, Mrs. Winter, the gentlemen must not be too _exigeants_," said
Miss Vernon, "but be content with what our larders afford; there will
be no time for preparation."
"Content!" cried I.
"Oh! we all know you would rather prefer a few herbs with water from
the neighbouring spring," said Miss Vernon archly.
A few more words as to the hour of starting and place of rendezvous,
which was to be at the Priory, as it was on the road to the Ruins, and
we exchanged good nights.
What a contrast Sunday at A---- presented to almost every other Sunday
I had ever spent. The grey old church, with its exquisitely carved
screen and pulpit, black polished oak, its heavy massive pillars, and
quaint scanty congregation. How distinguished the Colonel and Miss
Vernon looked amongst them! Gilpin's almost inspired strains on the
organ, contrasted rather forcibly with the drowsiness of the service,
doled out by a little mummy in spectacles, evidently minus several
teeth, essential to a clear enunciation. We all sat in Winter's pew,
and Miss Araminta Cox was there in a yellow bonnet, the turban, I
suppose, done up in a different shape.
After church we had an early dinner, luncheon rather, then a stroll
along the river, where we found Elijah Bush preaching to a mob of boys
and girls; it seemed curious, too, not having any dinner at the regular
hour.
The old church looked dim and solemn at evening service, its only
lights were those partially illuminating the little mummy in his task
of deciphering his own hieroglyphics. Then came a social cup of coffee,
a parting injunction to be punctual, and we separated for the night.
Monday rose clear and bright, a warm sun and cool bracing air. I
reached the Priory in good time for their early breakfast, and found
Colonel Vernon and his granddaughter in high spirits, the latter
looking lovely, her colour heightened by the clear morning air, and her
whole countenance beaming with a joyous expression, the reflection of
her pure happy heart.
Soon after ten o'clock the unwonted sound of carriages in the
churchyard announced the arrival of the rest of the party, and we all
assembled at the entrance gate to arrange the order of proceeding.
Cyclops already showed symptoms of improved feeding, but was as rough
and shaggy as ever, as he stood whisking his tail at the flies, and
occasionally giving a short cough.
The other phaeton was drawn by a tall bony brown horse, that looked as
if he had seen better days, and could boast a little blood.
The Colonel politely invited Mrs. Winter to accompany him, and Kate
most provokingly took her place with Mr. Winter, when some discussion
arose in consequence of Winter's protesting he must take his boy to
look after Cyclops; this left us minus a seat, but I obviated the
difficulty by offering to drive the brown horse, leaving the original
Jehu behind, and sharing the driving seat with Gilpin. Kate rewarded me
with a bright smile as I handed her into Winter's phaeton.
"A dashing turn-out, Egerton," said the Colonel; "what would your
friend, Colonel Dashwood, say to it?"
"That I'm in great luck to be included in so pleasant a party on any
terms. I wish I could persuade you you would be safer on the driving
seat with me, Miss Vernon."
She shook her head.
"Do not let Cyclops go, Tom, till I have got the reins settled," said
Winter, who had armed himself with a pair of green goggles to keep off
the dust.
"Arrah! there, ye'r the awkerdest crather I ever seen," exclaimed
Nurse, as the rejected Jehu was endeavouring to arrange a large basket
of provisions in the Colonel's phaeton, "d'ye want to have the Captin's
knees in his mouth, ye omadhaun, can't ye put it in this away?"
"I don't think it will fix, no ways."
"Now then, are we to start or not," said Winter. "Here! put that basket
in my buggy; we are lighter than you. Tom, a piece of cord, give it to
Mrs. O'Toole; you needn't let Cyclops off yet."
Cyclops coughed approvingly.
"A'there! look at me bould Shyclops, cockin' his tail; Miss Kate,
honey, have ye ye'r strong boots on?"
"All right, Mr. Winter," cried I.
"Let him go, Tom."
"God speed yez."
I held in my steed, who, notwithstanding his low condition, was still
eager; and after a few energetic lashes, which only entangled the whip
in the traces, Winter led the way, as he wished, and after traversing
some very narrow crooked streets and lanes, apparently paved with a
view to dislocate all travellers, we emerged upon a fine broad road,
where I took the liberty of making the brown horse keep neck and neck
with Cyclops. Winter's was certainly a curious turn out, with a huge
basket tied on the back seat, leaving a narrow ledge for Tom to perch
on; Winter himself in a broad brimm'd straw hat, the expression of his
features completely changed (by the total eclipse of his eyes under
green goggles) into one of preternatural gravity and pre-occupation,
sitting bolt upright, and considerably in the middle of the carriage,
leaving small space for Miss Vernon, and terribly embarrassed with the
reins.
Our own was not much better; the cane work doing duty for panels broken
in several places, and the brown horse leaning against the collar, and
pulling with all his might. How Burton would have laughed at the whole
concern; yet never did I enjoy a pic nic so much.
The road leading through a fine rich, though rather flat country, its
chief ornament an abundance of splendid timber, at one place crossed
a marshy common, where, the Organist informed me, the Royalists had
been routed, in the civil wars. Many a sally from Kate, upholding
the superiority of their steed to ours, enlivened our journey, while
Winter's attention was a good deal engrossed by a tendency of the
reins to get under Cyclops' tail.
Our progress was not rapid, but at length we reached our destination.
Mowbray Castle stands close to the modern house of the Earl of----;
they were generally absentees, and kindly permitted the vulgar public
to enjoy the beauties they did not value; a civil gate keeper admitted
us into an unpretending avenue, and shouted a warning after us, that
one side of the ruins was unsafe, but which no one seemed to heed.
Winter said that was a matter of course hint, given to every visitor,
and that he would undertake to guide us.
We entered a quadrangular court yard, bare and blazing with sunshine,
where we left the carriages, and I secured Miss Vernon as my companion,
while Winter gave some directions to Tom, as to the arrangements of
dinner, all agreeing to leave the selection of our banqueting hall to
him.
"Push open this gate for me, Captain Egerton," said Kate, after a vain
attempt to move a pair of heavy wooden doors to the left. I obeyed,
and we stepped at once from the glare of the paved court yard into the
cool shade of grand old trees, feathering to the ground, with gleams
of sunshine breaking through upon the rich soft mossy turf beneath.
A broad straight gravelled walk led up a steep hill before us, under
a perfect arch of luxuriant foliage, the modern house lying a little
distance to the left.
Here we were joined by Winter, who had discarded the green specs, his
hat in one hand and a handkerchief in the other. Reaching the hill,
and emerging from the shade of the trees, we found ourselves upon
the edge of what was formerly the moat of the Castle, now a gravel
walk, with steeply sloping grassy sides, studded with evergreens and
flowering shrubs. Beyond, the ruins rose majestic in their decay, and
crowning the sudden hill we had partially ascended, a narrow stone
arch, allowing of one passenger only at a time, was here thrown over
the moat; the ivy and other creepers hanging from it in graceful
streamers and festoons. It had no parapet or rail. Kate walked over
it fearlessly and at once, but Mrs. Winter hesitated, and accepted my
hand to lead her across. A good deal of climbing ensued up and down
dilapidated spiral staircases, and among yawning chasms, leading to
torture chambers and _oubliettes_ as Miss Vernon suggested. Some of
the views from the elevated position on which we stood, over the rich
flat country with its winding river, and the distant towers of A----
were fine; but I agreed with Kate in preferring the opposite side of
the Castle, where the hill was more precipitous, and you looked down
into a sea of foliage, with an undulating ferny deer park beyond, and
a background of blue mountains in the distance. Winter was already
arranging his drawing materials in front of a round tower, with an
arched door half hidden by a graceful ash tree.
After looking at his preparations, "I should like a sketch of the
Castle as we first came upon it, a little to the right, to take in that
pretty bridge; what subject are you going to select, Captain Egerton?"
asked Kate.
"If you will show me the spot you speak of, I will endeavour to carry
out your idea."
"That is delightful! follow me."
I saw in a moment she had selected an admirable point of view, and I
was soon hard at work, Miss Vernon bending over my drawing, offering
suggestions as I proceeded, now leaning back against the _débris_ of an
old tower, cutting my pencils and telling me legends of the Castle; now
wandering away with Gilpin to inspect Winter's sketch, and returning
with a report of his progress to stimulate my energies, while Mrs.
Winter and the Colonel seated themselves on a rustic bench, occupying
an elevated position in what was once the Keep, from which the rival
sketchers were both visible, and the latter producing a newspaper
from his pocket, sometimes holding his glasses to his eyes, sometimes
tapping them on the paper, seemed to read aloud for his companion's
amusement. A couple of hours glided pleasantly away, and Kate was
congratulating me on my faithful delineation of the ruins, when we
perceived Winter join his wife and the Colonel. He waved his straw hat,
and making a speaking trumpet of a roll of paper, shouted "Dinner!"
very audibly.
"In a minute," said Miss Vernon, forgetting he could not hear her,
"just finish that bit of shading, Captain Egerton; Mr. Gilpin and I
will put up all your things."
"Are you coming?" shouted Winter once more.
I put my portfolio under my arm, shouldered my camp stool, and we
soon joined the impatient and hungry artist, who led the way to a
well-chosen site for dinner. A bastion to the east of the Castle,
commanding a totally different view both north and south, which the
remains of a grey watch tower at one angle served to divide into
two distinct pictures. Close under it our banquet was spread; some
moss-grown stones and our camp stools supplying us with seats; gaily
and laughingly we attacked the viands. Winter presided, eating and
talking with great energy, seated on a high stone, which compelled
him to keep his feet on tiptoe to prevent his well-filled plate from
gliding off his knees; kneeling down every now and then to dive into
the interior of a partridge pie, his own contribution to the feast.
"I must trouble you again, Winter," said the Colonel; "no paste thank
you, but Teniers himself never gave a better interior."
"I made it myself, Colonel," said Mrs. Winter, triumphantly.
"My dear Madam, fair hands make fair work."
"_Bel parlare poco costa_," ejaculated Winter.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself to say such things in an unknown
tongue," said Miss Vernon.
"What was it, my dear?" enquired his wife; "indeed, John, those wicked
words are very sinful."
"Ha, ha, Miss Vernon, you are a mischievous little witch! Ah, Sue,
you've an old reprobate of a husband."
"Let us fill a bumper to the memory of those glorious old Normans, who
left us so charming a banqueting hall," said I.
"You do not express yourself properly; let us 'drain a cup' is more
appropriate," interrupted Miss Vernon.
"A set of unmitigated robbers without a spark of humanity," said the
Artist.
"You must admit they were often splendidly generous," interposed Miss
Vernon.
"Ay, by fits and starts."
"As much as could be expected from ignorant uncivilised warriors," said
I; "they were rude and cruel enough, so were all nations at the time;
while few possessed their generosity, energy, and abstemiousness; they
were a race of gentlemen!"
"Yes, abstemiousness has always continued to be a characteristic of
their gentlemanlike descendants," sneered Winter.
"Quite as much as of the all imbibing Saxons. I like the Normans,"
replied Kate.
"Was it not here, Miss Vernon, that Geraldine Mowbray mounted guard
with her waiting woman, to give the Warders time for repose?" enquired
Gilpin.
"Yes, it was during an insurrection of the Saxon serfs, and was not
unlike the Lady Evelyn Berenger's watch in 'The Betrothed.' She had a
brave heart."
"It is wonderful what heroic acts women were capable of in those days,"
observed the Colonel.
"It was the peculiar position they were placed in called forth
faculties which still exist, ready to spring into action whenever there
is a call for self devotion," said I.
"Which are exercised every day, and a thousand times more painfully, in
silent unregarded sacrifices," observed the Organist.
"And a thousand times more gloriously," said Miss Vernon. "It was,
I am sure, comparatively easy to act heroically, when the tone of
every thing round you was heroic; applauded and worshipped by noble
and gallant knights; celebrated by minstrels through all the world of
chivalry. I have not much courage to boast of, but I think I could
mount guard on an emergency, and under those circumstances. Ah! dare I
say I have that loftier courage that would enable me to bear up under
trials, the depth of which, my own heart alone knew!"
She stopped suddenly, blushing, as if ashamed of her own enthusiasm.
"My dear Kate, what makes you think such dreadful things?" whined Mrs.
Winter.
"Why, Miss Vernon, you are in a moralising vein," cried her mate.
"I have no doubt, Kate, you would lead a forlorn hope gallantly," said
her grandfather.
"Take me as your Lieutenant, Miss Vernon, and trust me I'll support my
chief."
"When the occasion comes, you'll find strength," said Gilpin.
"_Basta! in nome di Dio_, leave off moralising, and give us a song."
The Organist and Kate sang a duet, and even Winter joined in a catch;
their notes floated sweetly on the air, and woke up the echoes of the
deserted castle. Tom gathered up the fragments of the feast, and Mr.
Winter hinted it was time for us to start for the farm.
We all accordingly rose, and Gilpin, who was a little of a botanist,
climbed to get some wild plant that caught his eye, a little way up
the remnant of a watchtower I have already mentioned. "I wonder," said
Kate, "if this is the dangerous part of the ruins; I think that wall
looks tottering;" and she remained standing beside me, watching the
Organist. As she spoke, I fancied I heard something fall among the
thick leafy boughs at the other side; then one of the stones by which
Gilpin had ascended rolled slowly away. "_Christo benedetto!_" shouted
Winter, "down, down all of you, it will fall." They rushed rapidly
away; Kate paused for an instant to say, "poor Mr. Gilpin, help him,
he is lame." I immediately flew to assist his descent, and almost
lifted him to the ground; he turned quickly to the right, down a broken
flight of steps, and I was following him, when there was a crash, a
blinding dust, a scream of dismay from the lookers on; I felt a heavy
blow, a sense of acute pain, and then all was darkness.