THE TETE-A-TETE.
NO sooner had "dear Julian" recovered, which he really had not quite
accomplished until the day had begun to wear away (so great a shock had
that intelligence of Charles been to his guilty mind), than the
gratified and prudent mother fancied this a famous opportunity to leave
the young couple to themselves. It was after dinner, when they had
retired to the drawing-room; and I will say that Emily had never seemed
so favourably disposed towards that rough, but generous, heart before.
So then, on some significant pretence, well satisfied her favourite was
himself again, as bold, and black, and boisterous as ever, the masculine
mother kissed her hand to them, as a fat fairy might be supposed to do,
and operatically tripped away, coyly bidding Emily "take care of Julian
till she should come back again."
The momentary gleam of good which glanced across that bad man's heart
has faded away hours ago; his repentant thoughts had been occasioned
more from the sudden relief he experienced at running now no risks for
having murdered, than for any better feeling towards his brother, or any
humbler notions of himself. Nay, a strong rëaction occurred in his ideas
the moment he had seen his brother's writing; and when he fainted, he
fainted from the struggle in his mind of manifold exciting causes, such
as these:--hatred, jealousy, what he called love, though a lower name
befitted it, and vexation that his brother was--not dead. Oh mother,
mother! if your poor weak head had but been wise enough to read that
heart, would you still have loved it as you do? Alas--it is a deep
lesson in human nature this--she would! for Mrs. General Tracy was one
of those obstinate, yet superficial characters, whom no reason can
convince that they are wrong, no power can oblige to confess themselves
mistaken. She rejoiced to hear him called "her very image;" and
predominant vanity in the large coquette extended to herself at
second-hand; self was her idol substance, and its delightful shadow was
this mother's son.
The moment Mrs. Tracy left the room, Julian perceived his opportunity:
Charles, detested rival, far away at sea; the guardian gone to London;
Emily in an unusual flow of affability and kindness, and he--alone with
her. Rashly did he bask his soul in her delicious beauty, deliberately
drinking deep of that intoxicating draught. Giving the rein to passion,
he suffered that tumultuous steed to hurry him whither it would, in mad
unbridled course. He sat so long silently gazing at her with the
lack-lustre eyes of low and dull desire, that Emily, quite thrown off
her guard by that amiable fainting for his brother, addressed him in her
innocent kind-heartedness,
"Are you not recovered yet, dear Julian?"
The effect was instantaneous: scarcely crediting his ears that heard her
call him "dear," his eyes, that saw her winning smile upon him, he
started from his chair, and trembling with agitation, flung himself at
her feet, to Emily's unqualified astonishment.
"Why, Julian, what's the matter?--unhand me, sir! let go!" (for he had
got hold of her wrist.)
The passionate youth seized her hand--that one with Charles's ring upon
it--and would have kissed it wildly with polluting lips, had she not
shrieked suddenly "Help! help!"
Instantly his other hand was roughly dashed upon her mouth--so roughly
that it almost knocked her backwards--and the blood flowed from her
wounded lip; but by a preternatural effort, the indignant Indian queen
hurled the ruffian from her, flew to the bell, and kept on ringing
violently.
In less than half a minute all the household was around her, headed by
the startled Mrs. Tracy, who had all the while been listening in the
other drawing-room: butler, footmen, house-maids, ladies'-maids, cook,
scullions, and all rushed in, thinking the house was on fire.
No need to explain by a word. Emily, radiant in imperial charms, stood,
like inspired Cassandra, flashing indignation from her eyes at the
cowering caitiff on the floor. The mother, turning all manner of
colours, dropped on her knees to "poor Julian's" assistance, affecting
to believe him taken ill. But Emily Warren, whose insulted pride
vouchsafed not a word to that guilty couple, soon undeceived all
parties, by addressing the butler in a voice tremulous and broken--
"Mr. Saunders--be so good--as to go--to Sir Abraham Tamworth's--in the
square--and request of him--a night's--protection--for a
poor--defenceless, insulted woman!"
She could hardly utter the last words for choking tears: but immediately
battling down her feelings, added, with the calmness of a heroine--
"You are a father, Mr. Saunders--set all this before Sir Abraham
strongly, but delicately.
"Footmen! so long as that wretch is in the room, protect me, as you are
men."
And the stately beauty placed herself between the two liveried lacqueys,
as Zenobia in the middle of her guards.
"Marguerite!"--the pretty little Française tripped up to her--"wipe this
blood from my face."
Beautiful, insulted creature! I thought that I looked upon some wounded
Boadicea, with her daughters extracting the arrow from her cheek.
"And now, kind Charlotte, fetch my cloak; and follow me to Prospect
House, with what I may require for the night. Till the general's return,
I stay not here one minute."
Then, without a syllable, or a look of leave-taking, the wise and noble
girl--doubtless unconsciously remembering her early Hindoo braveries,
the lines of matchlock men, the bowing slaves, the processions, and her
jewelled state of old--marched away in magnificent beauty, accompanied
in silence by the whole astonished household.
Mrs. Tracy and her son were left alone: the silly, silly mother thought
him "hardly used." Julian, whose natural effrontery had entirely
deserted him, looked like what he was--a guilty coward: and the mother,
who had pampered up her "fine high-spirited son" to his full-grown
criminality by a foolish education, really--when she had time to think
of any thing but him--was excessively frightened. The general would be
back to-morrow, and then--and then!--she dreaded to picture that
explosion of his wrath.