and lead her out to dance. This he did among the nods, and winks, and
whispers of all present; and by the time he got into his place in the
quadrille, he did not very well know which end of him was uppermost.
Away rattled Miss Gingerly at the "Highland Laddie," and away bounced
the dancers through the mazes of the figure. Dancing a quadrille is with
some people no trifling matter, and Mr Simon Silky was one of these. He
bent to it all the energies of his not over-powerful mind; and, while it
lasted, beyond a passing word or two, he had no conversation to bestow
upon his partner. It was amusing to see with what earnestness he watched
the movements of those who preceded him, and, when his own turn came,
the exhibition he made would have made a Timor grin. First, he threw out
his arms to steady himself, and then jerking forward his right foot,
brought himself suddenly into the centre of the floor, where he began
throwing his legs confusedly about, till they seemed to be involved in
hopeless entanglement. All the time he kept his eyes fixed anxiously
upon his shoe-ties. It was obviously a critical affair with him to
preserve his equipoise, and each time that he got back safely to his
place, a sigh broke from him, as if a great burden had been taken off
his mind, and he wiped the sweat away that glistered in heavy beads upon
his brow. At length the quadrille ended. Mr Silky thanked heaven; and,
leading the fair Jemima to a seat, planted himself at her side, and
manfully endeavoured to open up a conversation with her.
Dance succeeded dance, and by degrees the elements of the party got
tolerably well interfused. Poor Miss Gingerly wrought away at her
everlasting set of Scotch quadrilles, and nobody ever volunteered to
relieve her of her task, "she played so well." At intervals some of the
young ladies quivered through a fashionable ballad, and occasionally an
attempt was made to get up one of those melancholy chants, which, by
some strange misnomer, pass current in society for glees. In these, Mr
Scratcherd, who sang bass, distinguished himself so signally, that loud
calls were made upon him for a song, and Mr Scratcherd, after a little
preliminary modesty, yielded to the call. He then began raving about an
"Old Oak Tree," and groaned up and down the scale, till his voice became
lost in the bottom of his neckcloth. Serious fears were entertained
whether he would be able to get it up again, but these happily turned
out to be unfounded. Again his voice mounted to its natural level, and
after rolling about for some time, "grating harsh discord," wore itself
out in a cadence of confused gutturals. "Bravo, bravo," cried the men.
"A very fine quality of bass," exclaimed his friend, Slap'emup, who
affected to be a judge; and Mr Scratcherd blew his nose, and fell back
in his chair in a state of great personal satisfaction.
With a thoughtful regard for the comforts of her guests, Mrs Greenwood
had, early in the evening, thrown open her little back drawing-room, in
which were placed abundance of refreshments, to sustain them through the
fatigues of dancing and conversation. By a succession of visits to this
room, Mr Simon Silky had succeeded in giving firmness to his nerves. He
was gradually becoming less and less bashful. There must have been
something bracing about the atmosphere of the apartments, for to this,
and not to the bottle of port, to which he was observed to have frequent
recourse, must be attributed that jauntiness of step and slipshod
volubility of tongue which he now displayed. He danced every dance, and
for the most part with Miss Jemima for his partner. What though his
uncouth gestures provoked a smile, and his assiduities to the young lady
were commented on at every hand. He cared not. His spirit was in the
third heaven of exaltation, and the whole world might go hang for him.
"Miss Linton," he exclaimed, seizing her hand fervently--they were
seated on a sofa in the back drawing-room, while the others were
labouring through a country-dance in the front--"Miss Linton, hear me
for a moment. Let me use this opportunity of stating what I have long
felt--what I now feel--what I shall always feel." And again Mr Silky
pressed her hand tenderly in both of his.
"Oh, sir!" timidly responded the lady.
"Yes, adorable Jemima! I can no longer repress my emotion. You see
before you a victim to your charms. The moment I beheld you, I don't
know how it was, but my heart thrilled with a transport delightful as it
was new. I felt--I felt--in short, I felt as I never felt before. My
senses forsook me, and I said and did I know not what. These soulless
creatures treated my confusion with ridicule; but, in your eyes,
methought I could read pity, compassion, commiseration, sympathy. Say,
was I right, or was I misled by the fond delusions of my own passion?"
"Oh, sir!" again exclaimed the bewildered Jemima.
"That look! I was not then deceived. Oh extend that pity into love! I
lay myself and my fortune at your feet." And here Mr Simon Silky slipped
off the sofa and down upon his knees, overcome partly with love and
partly with intoxication. "Dearest Jemima! say only that you will be
mine?"
"Oh, sir!" once more sighed the blushing maiden, dropping her head upon
the shoulder of her suitor, who acknowledged the movement by snatching a
kiss from her pouting lips.
"Ods! that came twangingly off. I'm afraid we're like to spoil sport
here," exclaimed Mr Slap'emup, who at this moment entered the room, with
Miss Gingerly on his arm.
"Gracious! how very improper!" cried Miss Gingerly, wishing from the
depth of her soul that it had only been her own case.
"What's improper, ma'am?" retorted Silky, turning to her a look of
drunken gravity, and endeavouring, with no little difficulty, to get on
his legs again. "If I choose to kiss this young lady, or this young lady
chooses to kiss me, that's no business of yours, I suppose? 'Have not
saints lips, and holy palmers, too?' as the divine Shakspere says; and
what are lips for, I should like to know, if not to kiss? Don't frown at
me, Miss Graveairs. I'm a man--a man, ma'am, and I shall do just as I
please. Shan't I, Jemima, dear?"
He turned for an answer to his appeal; but the young lady had left the
room.
"Jemima, I say," continued Silky, getting more and more overcome. He
looked around the room; and, finding no trace of the lady, began
chanting in a lackadaisical tone--
'And has she then fail'd in her truth,
The beautiful maid I adore?'
But I don't care that for her!" And he tried to snap his fingers; but
failed in the attempt. "It's an ungrateful world--a vile world."
"Oh, gracious me! let me away," exclaimed Miss Gingerly, in alarm. "He's
certainly tipsy."
"Tipsy--tipsy! Who's tipsy? Let me see her. Woman, woman, to get
yourself into such a state! I'm ashamed of you; I am indeed. But it's
the weakness of the sex.
'Frailty, thy name is woman!'"
This apostrophe was addressed to some visionary female that flitted
before Mr Silky's mental optics, and whom he followed, with his hands
groping before him, with the voice and gesture of Mr Charles Kean
pursuing the airdrawn dagger in the character of Macbeth. "Laugh away;
it's very amusing, isn't it! Nero fiddled while Rome was burning; but I
know better."
"Mr Silky, you'll better go home," said Mrs Greenwood, who, with the
remainder of the party, had by this time entered the room.
"Home! exactly so. I _am_ at home, my charmer--perfectly at home; and
you're at home; we're all at home. But no more wine, Mrs Greenwood;
temperance and teetotalism for ever. We are beset with temptations in
this wicked world--temptations, I say--Jemima, you're an angel! It is as
much as a man can do to preserve his uprightness." And, in proof that it
was more than he could, down rolled our hero on the floor, in a profound
stupor.
"Carry Master Silence to bed," remarked the ingenious Slap'emup, highly
tickled with the catastrophe that had befallen the too--too bashful
Silky.
A coach was procured, and he was conveyed to his lodgings, where the sun
found him in bed at noon next day. His dreams had been of the most
ghastly kind. He had fancied himself compelled, by a fiend, to swallow
huge goblets of port wine, strongly adulterated with brimstone, and
dragged about by a fury, who held his neck within a halter. The fiend
was Slap'emup--the fury, Miss Jemima Linton. He started from his dream,
and with his hand pressed against his aching head, fell to adjusting the
confused reminiscences of the previous evening's proceedings. He
remembered nothing but that he had proposed for the hand of some young
lady or other, and had been accepted. Well for him it was that memory
went no farther, or he would never have found courage to visit Mrs
Greenwood again. That he did visit her again, however, may be inferred
from an announcement which the newspapers, not many weeks after, gave to
the public:--
"Married at Edinburgh, on the 6th instant, Mr Simon Silky to Miss Jemima
Linton."
THE RECLUSE OF THE HEBRIDES.
"Still caring, despairing,
Must be my bitter doom;
My woes here shall close ne'er
But with the closing tomb."--BURNS.
I resided some years ago in the Island of Tyree, which is one of the
most western of the Hebrides; and, in the course of my business, had
often occasion to cross by the base of Ben Chinevarah, whose rugged and
sterile appearance impresses the mind with a sickening sadness. The
narrow footpath sometimes dives into the deep and sullen gloom of the
mountain glen, whose silence is unbroken, save by the torrent's red
rush, and again winds along the edge of the steep precipice, among the
loose rocks that have been hurled from their beds aloft by the giant
efforts of time, where the least false step would precipitate the unwary
traveller into the abyss below. There no cheering sound of mirth was
ever heard, the blithe whistle of the ploughman never swelled upon its
echoes, nor often did the reaper's song disturb its gloomy silence. The
ear is assailed, on the one hand, by the discordant and dismal notes of
the screech-owl; and, on the other, by the angry roar of the waves that
beat, with ceaseless lash, the broken shore. A small hut now and then
bursts upon the view, raising its lowly roof beneath the shelter of the
mountain rock, and adds to the cheerlessness of the scene. One of those
small cottages often attracted my notice, by its external neatness, and
the laborious industry by which a small garden had been formed around
the dwelling; and by degrees I ingratiated myself into the good graces
of its owner, who, I found, by his knowledge and conversation, was of a
different cast from the dwellers around him. I knew by his accent that
he was a foreigner; and, feeling an interest in him, I often endeavoured
to gain some account from him of the early part of his life; but when
the subject was hinted at, he at once changed the conversation.
Having occasion last summer to spend some days at the house of a friend
in Argyleshire, I availed myself of this opportunity to visit my old
acquaintance at Tyree. I found him stretched on the bed of sickness, and
fast verging towards his end. When last I had seen him, his appearance,
though infirm, evinced but few signs of physical decay; and, though the
storms of scores of winters had blown over him, still his eye sparkled
with animation, and his raven locks retained the fresh and jetty colour
of the native of "Italia's sunny clime." But now, how changed the
appearance! His eyeballs were dim, deep sunken in their sockets; a few
scattered grey hairs waved carelessly over his finely-arched eyebrows;
and his forehead and cheeks were deeply furrowed with the traces of
sickness and secret wo. When I entered the lowly dwelling, he raised his
lacklustre eyes, and stretched forth his hand to meet my grasp.
"And is Heaven yet so kind," said he, raising his wasted hand in thanks
to the Disposer of all good, "as to send one pitying friend to soothe my
dreary and departing moments? Ah, sir, the hand of the grim tyrant is
laid heavily upon me, and I must soon appear in the presence of an
offended Deity. If you knew how awful are the feelings of a mind loaded
with iniquity, of a soul immersed in guilt, when the last moment is
approaching that separates us from mortality, and the misdeeds of a
wicked life stand in ghastly array, adding stings to an already seared
conscience, you would shrink at what you now deem the gay dreams of
youthful frailty, and shun the delusive and seducing snares of a
wretched world."
Pointing to a block of wood alongside his pallet bed, he desired me to
be seated, and, after drying the tear of sorrow from his swollen eye, he
thus proceeded:--
"Often, in those moments when the sweet beams of health were mine, have
you desired a recital of the events of my past life; but a feeling of
shame withheld me from the task. Now, when I have nothing to fear but
death and the dread hereafter, if you will have the patience to hear me,
I will briefly unfold to you the causes which reduced me from a state of
affluence, to become a fugitive amid the rugged rocks and the inclement
skies of a foreign land."
I assented, and he went on with his story.
"My name," said he, "in the more fortunate years of my life, was
Alphonso; and the city of Venice gave me birth. I was the only child of
an opulent citizen, and need scarcely inform you that no restraint was
laid upon my inclinations when a child; and the dawn of manhood beheld
me plunged amid every intemperance which that luxurious city then
afforded. Money was plentifully supplied me by my parents to support my
extravagances; and I sought after happiness among the rounds of pleasure
and the gay circles of society; but I only met with desires ungratified,
hopes often frustrated, and wishes never satisfied. I had a friend. He
was called Theodore. I loved him as dearly as a selfish being like
myself _could_ love any one. He shared in all my pleasures.
"An amorous, jealous, and revengeful disposition is commonly laid to the
share of the Italians; and, with sorrow I confess, that formed the
principal ingredient of my character. I had reached my twentieth year of
thoughtlessness and folly, when, one night at the opera, a young lady in
an opposite box attracted my attention; and my eyes were insensibly
riveted upon the beauteous figure. I need not tell you that she was
beautiful--she was loveliness itself. I will not trespass on your time
in describing the new and pleasing sensations that arose in my bosom;
you have trod the magic paths of pleasure, and bowed to the charms of
beauty: they are not unknown to you.
"I felt that all my libertine pursuits had only been the shadows of
pleasure; and from that moment I determined to abandon them, and fix my
love on her alone. We became acquainted, and I found that she was as
worthy of the purest love as my fond wishes desired. She was the only
child of Count Rudolpho; and, for the space of three months, I was a
constant visiter at her father's palazzo. In due time I pleaded the
force of my love. But what were the sensations of my soul, when the tear
started from her eye of beauty, and the dreadful sentence burst upon my
ear--'I am the bride of Theodore!'
"I burst from her presence with a palpitating heart, and returned
homewards, agitated by the conflicting passions of despair and revenge.
I drew my sword from its sheath, and promised the blood of Theodore, of
the friend of my bosom, to its point. The steel trembled in my grasp as
the vow fell from my lips, and my heart recoiled at the idea of shedding
blood; but the still small voice was an unequal match with the baneful
principles of a corrupted soul."
The recluse stopped, and the loud sobs of sorrow and repentance alone
burst upon the gloomy silence of the scene. The hectic flush of fever
played and wantoned across his pallid features, as if it seemed to exult
in the weakness of mortality, and delight in the loveliness of its own
soul-loathed ravages. The tears dropped large and plentiful from his
eyes, and his spirit seemed bended and broken with the racking
remembrance. I bent over the wasted form of the wretched penitent, and
while I poured the voice of comfort in his ear, and wiped the tears from
his eyes, his soul resumed its wonted firmness, and even a smile beamed
upon his blanched lips, as he grasped my hand, and pressed it to his
bosom in silence, and with thankfulness.
"Behold!" said he, drawing an old sword from beneath the side of his
miserable straw pallet--"behold this steel, red-rusted with the blood of
Theodore, from which the bitter tears of sixty long winters have been
unable to efface the stain. Pardon the feelings of an infirm old man. My
soul weeps blood at the remembrance.
"I pitched upon the bridal eve of Theodore for that of his death, and
the seizure of his bride; and hired the leader of a band of ruffians to
assist me in the scheme. The fatal night, so big with horror, at last
arrived. The sun sank sullenly into the shades of the west, and his
departing gleams glanced redly and angrily upon me. The raven wings of
early night fell upon Venice; and I stepped into my gondola, with my
hired followers. We set forward upon our errand. The palazzo of Count
Albert was soon gained. Busy nature waxed calm and hushed; the artisan
had retired to the sweets of his lowly but happy cottage; the
convent-bell had tolled, solemn and slow, the vesper knell; and then
'Uprose the yellow moon,'
silvering the rippling waters of the canals, and glancing its beams upon
the glittering palaces of Venice. It was a lovely night; but my soul ill
brooked the calm grandeur of the scene.
"By the treachery of a servant, my comrades were admitted into Count
Rudolpho's grounds, whilst I attended the nuptial rites with the
well-dissembled face of friendship. Joy was dancing in every eye but
mine. My hand trembled at times on the hilt of my poniard, and I awaited
the favourable moment with a degree of impatience bordering on frenzy.
Many a fair maid was there, tripping amid the joyous throng, whose
beauty might have warmed the frigid heart of an anchorite; but my eyes
and mind were upon the dear, dear Violetta: she was lovelier than ever,
but--she was the spouse of Theodore.
"The garden of the count was remarkably beautiful, and the trees in it
had been grandly festooned with variegated lamps on the present
occasion. The night was pleasant and calm, and the youthful couple
retired from the crowded saloon to the garden for a few minutes, to
enjoy the freshness of nature. I silently followed, unperceived, till
they seated themselves in an arbour, whose beauty was unworthy of a
villain's tread. Then suddenly I presented myself at the entrance; and
the unsuspicious Theodore rose to embrace me. How shall I give utterance
to the rest? My friend rose to embrace me; and I drew my poniard, and
was about to plunge it into his bosom, when Violetta, whose attention
this action had not escaped, rushed between us, to stay my hand. Horror!
her heart received the blow I had intended for her husband. She uttered
a piercing cry, and fell, a bleeding corpse, at my feet.
"The sound attracted the attention of my ruffianly associates, who were
ready at hand, to carry off the bride, and they hurried to the spot.
Theodore, at first surprised and terror-stricken, now roused himself to
energy. With the fury of a maniac, he rushed upon me, and felled me
senseless to the earth. How long I lay in this situation I know not; but
when my senses returned, the palazzo was in flames, and the clashing of
swords and the groans of the wounded sounded horribly in my ears. And
this was my doing. I had been the means of introducing into Count
Rudolpho's grounds a band of desperadoes, to whom bloodshed was
familiar; and I doubted not that they were at their work of blood and
rapine. I repented of the deed, but it was too late.
"The murdered Violetta lay on the ground at a short distance from me;
the moonbeams played full upon her ghastly and distorted features; and
her robes, her bridal robes, were deeply stained with blood. Her pulse
had long since ceased to beat, and she felt cold to the touch. Resolved
that no profane hand should consign to the earth her blessed remains, I
threw the body across my shoulder, and fled with it from the garden. I
felt not the weight of the burden, for excitement made me 'hardy as the
Nemean lion's nerve.' I soon reached the canal, leaped into my gondola
with my precious burden, and, shortly afterwards, gained my father's
palace. Ere the moon set, I had dug a deep grave in his garden, in which
I buried her on whom I had doated, bedewing the earth with my tears as I
proceeded in my work.
"It was at length completed; and, with the morning's dawn, I fled from
Venice. Despair added wings to my flight, and the land of France
received me in her fostering arms. I have, since that time, wandered in
many a clime, to wear away my grief, but in vain. I have fought under
the banner of your king; and, though my arm was never palsied in the day
of battle, death has been denied me. I now lie here, aged and forlorn.
The hand of death is heavy on me, and chilly tremors are creeping over
my exhausted frame. The just decrees of God have denied me even a friend
to close my weary eyes; and my dust must mingle with the dust of
strangers, far, far from the sepulchre of my fathers, and the home of my
childhood."
After a short pause, the Recluse continued--
"Here, sir," said he, "take this sword--it has been the constant
companion of my travels--its blade is unsullied by ignoble blood; and
when you look upon it, after the grave receives the wretched Alphonso,
it may convey a lesson that volumes could not inculcate."
I received the sword from his hand, which was trembling and cold. He
turned his face from me; and before I had time to speak, a deep groan
announced his departure to the mansions of another world. I called the
inmates of the adjoining cottage, who took charge of the body; and I
left the spot with a feeling which words cannot express, but which will
be understood by those who look with the eye of pity upon the errors of
a fellow-mortal.
ELLEN ARUNDEL.
Ellen Arundel was the only daughter of an officer in the British
service, who, with his sword for his patrimony, had entered early into
the profession of arms as the means of maintenance; and he had,
accordingly, pursued it with that enthusiastic spirit of honour which is
dictated by the considerations of family pride, the hope of fame, the
dread of disgrace, and the most ardent love of glory.
The utmost height, however, to which he had risen, when he committed the
folly of matrimony, by uniting his destiny to that of the portionless
daughter of a venerable, respectable, unbeneficed clergyman, was that of
a lieutenant in a foot regiment. By dint of careful management on the
part of his wife, they contrived to live happily together, nor did the
increase of their family--for Ellen made her appearance within the first
year after their marriage--add to their difficulties.
In the care and superintendence of their darling daughter, did their
years roll on in humble content. If they heaved a sigh, it was for their
Ellen's future welfare; if they breathed a wish, it was to see her
placed in a situation which might guard her against the attacks of
poverty, and the designs of iniquity. From the former, they were aware,
beauty and accomplishments would prove no shield; and they trembled when
they reflected that they might prove the most powerful incitement to the
latter. The sweets of life are not to be enjoyed without its
accompanying embitterments. The regiment in which Mr Arundel served
received orders to embark for America, in transports already prepared
for the reception of the British forces. On the communication of this
intelligence, so subversive of their little plans of economy and
felicity, Mrs Arundel earnestly entreated that she and Ellen might be
the companions of his voyage. For awhile Mr Arundel would not consent to
this, from a fear of incurring expense which they were unable to
support; but all the difficulties which the narrowness of their finances
suggested were obviated by a thousand little arrangements, the ingenious
devices of love; and the command of a company, which was conferred upon
him before the embarkation, relieved them from their anxiety.
Few events happened, either during their voyage, or on their arrival at
Boston, except that the assiduities of a young officer of another
regiment, who accompanied them in the transport, seemed to have made
some impression on the heart of Ellen Arundel. She listened to his tales
of love, with the full sanction of her parents, and sighed out the
confession that his passion was returned. Mr Meredith was formed on the
model which Captain Arundel had, in idea, fixed on for the husband of
his Ellen. To the qualifications of a soldier, he added those which most
highly adorn private life; nor was his income limited, for he was the
only son of a gentleman of fortune. But both Captain Arundel and Mr
Meredith were too regardful of decency and propriety to hasten an event
of so much importance, till the father of the young gentleman had been
made acquainted with the attachment; and letters from Captain Arundel
and the lover were, accordingly, prepared, for the purpose of being
despatched to Europe by the first ship that should sail.