|NEXT morning she related the mysterious occurrence to them both, but
they treated it very lightly, though neither could understand how the
tapers had been extinguished. All the rest they regarded as the effect
of an over-excited imagination.
“No one could have entered the chapel,” remarked the priest. “I locked
the door, and took the key with me. However, you must dismiss all these
thoughts from your mind, daughter. To-day the chapel will present a very
different appearance from what it did last night.”
“Yes--it will be the scene of your betrothal,” said Lady Webb.
“I would rather the ceremony took place elsewhere,” said Anna.
“It cannot be,” said Father Norham. “His lordship has arranged
the matter. The prince will be present, and it would be a great
disappointment to the household to be deprived of the sight.”
“It would also be a great disappointment to Sir John and myself,”
observed Lady Webb. “Besides there are several guests in the Castle who
ought not to be excluded. For many reasons, therefore, there must be no
change in the plan.”
“Don't say a word, mamma,” said Anna. “I am quite convinced. My
objections were ridiculous. The morning is delightful, and a walk in the
garden will set me quite right.”
“You will find Lord Derwentwater, his majesty, and almost all the
company assembled on the lawn,” said Lady Webb. “Come, I will take you
thither. Perhaps, Father Norham will accompany us.”
“With the greatest pleasure,” replied the priest.
On Anna's appearance, Lord Derwentwater, who was standing with the
company on the terrace, came forward to meet her; and as he approached,
he remarked that she looked very pale. This did not detract from her
beauty, but rather gave interest to her countenance--at least, in his
eyes. He made some slight allusion to the circumstance, but she laughed
it off.
Not much passed between them, for the prince presently came up to offer
her his greetings, and by this time her cheek was flushed.
“I have news for you, fair lady,” said his highness, “and I desire to be
the first to communicate it. I do not mean to rob you of your lover,
so you may rest quite easy on that score. My proposed journey to London
will not be undertaken. A messenger has just arrived at the castle
bringing me a letter from the Earl of Mar, Secretary of State to Queen
Anne. His lordship had engaged that I should see the queen, and led
me to hope that great results would follow from the interview. These
confident expectations are now at an end, and my project must be given
up. Lord Mar writes that the queen, forgetful of her promises, refuses
to receive me, and that if I should present myself at Saint James's
Palace, he will not answer for my safety. Under such circumstances, it
would be madness to make the attempt It is well that I arranged with
the Earl of Mar to write to me here, as if I had not heard from him, I
should have started on the journey. What might then have befallen me I
know not. Perchance, imprisonment in the Tower, in hope of compelling me
to relinquish my pretentions to the crown--but that I never would have
done.”
“Your majesty need not give us that assurance,” cried Anna. “But
imprisonment would have been grievous, and might have disheartened your
friends.”
“From the first I have been opposed to the scheme, as your majesty is
aware,” said Lord Derwentwater; “and I cannot, therefore, affect to
regret its abandonment.”
“I do not wonder you are better pleased to remain where you are,
cousin,” said the prince.
“I shall be far better pleased if your majesty will decide upon
summoning all your partisans to arms,” said the earl.
“Nothing would rejoice me more than to see ten thousand men assembled at
the castle,” said Anna with increased enthusiasm, “and eager for their
king to lead them on to victory. That is how I should like to see your
majesty march to London--and Lord Derwentwater with you.”
“Ay, I will never be left behind,” cried the earl.
Fire lighted up the prince's eyes as they spoke, but it faded away.
“It cannot be,” he said. “It cannot be.”
“What cannot be, my liege?” cried Anna, regarding him fixedly. “Not the
insurrection? Not the march to London?”
“No,” he replied. “The Earl of Mar, in his letter counsels me to make no
immediate movement.”
“For what reason?” demanded Lord Derwentwater in surprise.
“He gives no reason,” rejoined the prince. “But Lord Mar knows
the feeling of the clans, and evidently deems the present juncture
unpropitious to a rising.”
“I cannot tell what may be the state of the clans,” said Lord
Derwentwater, scarcely able to repress his impatience; “but I am certain
the opportunity is favourable in the North of England--as can soon be
shown, if your majesty will give the signal.”
“I will not commit myself to any decisive step now, my lord,” said the
prince, who when thus urged, seemed to shrink from the enterprise. “Nor
do I think it will be prudent for me to remain here long.”
“What danger does your majesty apprehend?” cried the earl. “All are
devoted to you. There are no traitors in the castle.”
“But I have many enemies in the country, and the Earl of Mar bids me
'beware,'” said the prince.
“We will defend you against your enemies, my liege,” said Lord
Derwentwater. “You need not fear them. Immediate preparations shall be
made.”
“No haste is needful, cousin,” said the prince. “I have a strong guard
enough,” he added, glancing at Colonel Oxburgh and his friends, who were
standing at a little distance. “Let the day pass tranquilly--if it will.
To-morrow we will consider what shall be done.”
“Heaven grant your majesty may change your mind in the interim!”
observed Anna.
“If you exercise your powers of persuasion, fair lady, there is no
saying what you may accomplish,” said the prince, gallantly.
At this moment a bell was heard, and Newbiggin came forth with two other
servants in livery, and respectfully announced breakfast.
The prince offered his hand to Anna and led her to the house, and the
rest of the party followed.