It is the greatest height of wisdom to be happy, but the happiest
periods of existence are the most difficult to describe; and from this
time forth, within the domestic circle of Mr. Granville, Marion was
introduced into a scene of such refined and intellectual enjoyment,
that it seemed to her as if she had hitherto beheld the picture of
life, painted only by some inferior artist, coarsely daubed over with
glaring hues, and vulgarly discolored; but it now appeared to her in
all the graceful symmetry, subdued harmony, and exquisite coloring of
a great master.
Marion's natural taste had revolted from the mean, reckless,
exaggerated caricatures of happiness, which had been exhibited to her
in Sir Patrick's riotous revellings, and in her sister's feverish
excitement; while Agnes wasted her heart and feelings in building up
romances for herself, very much in the Minerva press and
Adela-de-Montmorency school; but now the morality appeared in all its
true fascination and inestimable worth to Marion, when she saw real
felicity formed upon that divine model, which she had before imagined,
but never seen.
While sharing the pure joys and peaceful happiness of Clara and
Richard, scarcely a thought of Marion's heart remained unspoken,
except her secret and increasing consciousness of the wide disparity
between that home, where she found nothing but a heartless desolation
or neglect of her best feelings, and the beautiful exemplification of
domestic felicity to which she had now been introduced. Every
occupation or amusement in which she engaged with her friends, became
enhanced in pleasure and importance, by the consciousness, that beyond
the mere gratification of the moment, it was consecrated to a higher
and better aim; that it might be remembered hereafter without remorse,
and that it was but a link in the bright chain of eternal happiness
for which they were all preparing, and which they expected all to
enjoy together, by the light of that sun which never sets, but shines
beyond the grave.
The Christian friendship of a brother and sister for each other, is
perhaps the purest and happiest of all earthly attachments, for there
is not an hour of life from childhood to old age, in which they have
not experienced the same joys and the same sorrows, known every
vicissitude of existence together, acquired the same habits, wept for
the same sorrows, rejoiced in the same prosperity, and cherished the
same hopes. The affection of Clara and Richard was not the transient
union of two individuals thrown together by the accident of birth,
united by mere instinct, living in contact for convenience, and
expecting to be finally separated by death; but it was the deep,
strong, heart-felt attachment of a Christian family, linked together
for mutual support in sunshine or shadow, tenderly to assist each
other along the difficult path of life, happy in the blessings that
were given them now, and happier still in the expectation of those yet
to come in that "new heaven and new earth, wherein dwelleth
righteousness."
As Mr. Granville's character became more known to Marion, and the
interest with which he listened to her thoughts and feelings
perceptibly increased, she could not but secretly indulge sometimes in
the thought, presumptuous though it seemed to herself, how different
life might yet become, if the preference already so obviously
testified were by any "strange impossibility" to increase, till he
became allied, to her by the strictest tie of perpetual friendship,
and their lives and affections were mingled into one. Marion's young
heart glowed with emotion when she thought how her feelings would all
then be understood, her affections appreciated, her happiness cared
for, and every trivial incident of her life rendered doubly important,
because it belonged to another as well as to herself--to one who would
share all her thoughts, direct all her actions, and mingle with every
Christian motive to exertion, the desire to please him in her own
happy home.
The attachment of Agnes for Captain De Crespigny was like that of a
child for its rattle, compared with the ennobling sentiment of which
Marion's heart was capable, for there a mine of undiscovered
affections lay buried and unknown, while every deeper emotion had
hitherto been repelled or neglected by all around, except her uncle,
and she could not but tremble to think, if her affections were ever
warmed into life by reciprocal attachment, how inconceivable must be
the misery or the happiness which would ensue. She indulged in no
fallacious expectations of life, no romantic dreams of never-ending
happiness and never-dying love, which originate in unreasonable
expectation, and too certainly end in bitter disappointment; but, to
be the object of Mr. Granville's unchangeable confidence and
affection, his companion in sickness as much as in health, the sharer
of his sorrows as well as his joys, a participator in all his duties,
and, most of all, to testify her gratitude for his preference, by
devoted attachment on her own part, not bounded within the perishable
limits of a mere earthly tie--these were the silent, unspoken wishes
of Marion, which glanced through her mind often, as she hurried home,
late and unwillingly, to St. John's Lodge, and which caused her bright
eye to beam with additional lustre, or brought the color in a richer
carnation to her cheek.
Events always happen when least expected, and if there be a day in
life when any one in this world of change can feel peculiarly certain
that nothing remarkable shall occur, that is probably the period when
the most remarkable events take place. Marion had gone with Clara and
her brother to spend a quiet day among the romantic glens of Roslin,
when, finding herself alone with Mr. Granville, in one of the most
beautiful parts of the rocky glen, she was suddenly astonished by his
making her, with manly frankness, and yet evident diffidence, an
explicit declaration of his attachment. He said, on the occasion, all
that could be said by such a man, with the eloquence of deep emotion;
and, encouraged by the timid pleasure with which Marion evidently
listened to his words, Mr. Granville laid open the whole depths of a
heart in which all that was ennobling in nature had become embellished
by all the purifying influences of religion, while she, with tears and
blushes, heard thus unexpectedly what promised her the utmost sum of
human felicity, and she attempted not to conceal how highly, beyond
all expression, she appreciated his preference and attachment.
There is a language of the heart which words cannot
express,--thoughts, feelings, and affections too deep to be told, but
revealed only in the eyes and voice, when with sincerity of emotion,
such as Mr. Granville's, a long concealed attachment is at last
declared.
"I have asked myself a thousand times whether I could make you happy,
and if I believed," said he, "that there lived a man upon the earth
who could love you more, or make you happier than myself, I would
endeavor to resign all hope; but I know the lasting nature of my
attachment, which time itself cannot alter, nor death finally
extinguish; and if such affection as mine, with nothing else to offer,
can make you happy, it will be a new motive to exertion on my part,
and a new source of thankfulness to the Divine Giver of all good. Your
brother knows better than most men the pecuniary embarrassment in
which a long-continued law-suit has plunged me, and that my future
income may not perhaps be large, but consult him,--and my very dear
Marion, as I must for once be allowed to call you, consult your own
wishes and your happiness. Before giving me a final answer, take some
days to consider----"
"Not an hour,--or a moment," replied Marion, frankly, but with a
faltering voice and glistening eye, while a vivid blush dyed her
cheek, "I need only consider whether my own heart be worthy of you! I
have thought sometimes,--I have dreamed of such happiness as ours
shall be, but little did I hope ever to see it more than realized
now!"
Love is with lovers an endless subject, and hours appeared like
moments, while they conversed together on the past and the future
with new feelings of confidence and joy, and the whole beautiful
scenery around seemed as it were haunted by the spirit of thought
and of enjoyment, while it was with a thrilling emotion of deep
gratification that Marion now felt undoubtingly conscious that she
had become indeed an object of preference to Mr. Granville, that she
would be thought of always by one whom she could never forget, that
she knew the whole story of his heart and affections, and that these
were devoted,--ardently devoted to herself; and now resolutely
discarding every apprehension of future difficulties or sorrows, all
around took the color of her happiness, and she lived only in the joy
of the present hour. Nothing required concealment between them, and
it seemed the sole object of both to open up the most secret recesses
of their minds, comparing opinions and feelings, while before long it
appeared strange to Marion that a time had ever existed when their
hearts were unknown to each other. No caprices, no misunderstandings,
no jealousies could arise between them, for there seemed to be but
one heart and one mind in common, from the moment when Marion
whispered her confession, that their attachment was reciprocal.
Oh! there are looks and tones that dart,
An instant sunshine through the heart,
As if the soul that minute caught,
Some treasure it through life had sought.
At length they were warned to return homewards, by the golden light of
a setting sun, which yet looked in glowing majesty over the distant
hills, and sprinkled its glory on the highest tops of the trees, till
they were tipped with fire; but Marion paused, in delighted
admiration, on the centre of a rustic fairy-bridge, like a spider's
web, thrown across the narrowest and deepest part of the swollen
stream. Among rock and moss, tufted with weeping birch, the
overhanging cliffs here formed themselves into two sides of a natural
arch, in which nature had apparently omitted the key-stone, though art
had supplied the deficiency, by a slight bridge, underneath which the
sparkling waters boiled and thundered on with bewildering rapidity,
like a stream of light, bounding and leaping, with a clamorous
brawling uproar, along the rocky channel, and disappearing behind a
bold promontory, over-grown with tall pines, and twisted with the
knotted and gnarled roots of many an ancient oak.
The country seemed indeed clothed with a prodigality of beauty--the
wild confusion of rocks--the feathered branches of a hundred
trees--the sparkling sunbeams, sprinkled like scattered leaf-gold on
every object--the shadows interlaced upon the verdant grass--the
yellow broom, glowing with its sunny hues--the groups of
well-conditioned cattle ruminating on the meadows--and the stream, now
murmuring in wild music over its rocky bed, and dimpling into smiles
beneath the sunshine, while the mind and conversation of Mr. Granville
travelled into the highest regions of thought, and Marion compared the
bright gay aspect of all around to her own happy feelings.
"It is a pleasure to think," said Marion with animation, "that the
poorest and most destitute of human beings might enjoy the beauties of
nature as we do now, and all the pleasures, too, of confidence and
affection, if they but knew how to value them. God gives all that is
most precious to his creatures in common; and how little of our real
happiness in life is derived from the mere vulgar display of wealth,
equipages, jewels, and external splendor. It is not the materials of
our happiness which are so important, as the way in which we build up
the fabric."
"I have sometimes been ready to regret," answered Mr. Granville, "that
in offering you my hand and fortune, I offer you so little; but I
never desired wealth for myself. No man living cares less for luxury;
and we may trust that my devoted affection shall succeed in shielding
you from the thousand inconveniencies of a very limited income."
"It is the heart I value," whispered Marion. "With all my faults, the
love of money never was one. We shall be rich in happiness, and in all
that Providence gives to the most favored of those who trust in Him."
"Yes! such mutual confidence as ours, with Christian contentment and
cheerfulness, are the real elixir of happiness," replied Mr.
Granville. "It is by closing our eyes against the pure enjoyments
prepared for us by the God of nature, and opening them to the
artificial wants invented by man, that we lose all the simplicity, and
most of the real felicity of life. One can scarcely wonder, in a scene
like this, that many Christians think this beautiful earth, in a
purified state, shall hereafter become the place of our eternal
happiness; but wherever the presence of God is, that, and that only
will constitute heaven."
"And who could wish for more?" said Marion. "That should in itself
excite all our gratitude and joy."
"Yet this noisy turbulent stream, rushing wildly past in its angry
career, is like the troubled course of human wishes, thoughts, and
speculations, with which we are continually disturbing that calm,
unruffled state, in which our minds would best reflect the light of
heaven," answered Mr. Granville. "No one ever had a plummet long
enough to measure the depth of that love to man, which has placed us
as probationers in our sin-blighted world; and even if we had no
futurity of glory promised us, and were finally to perish at death, we
have cause to be thankful for seeing so much natural beauty, and so
much intellectual enjoyment, while permitted to remain here."
"Yes!" replied Marion, "considering that we have forfeited every
blessing, I think any man who has enjoyed life as he ought to, might
give a receipt in full, as having received a thousand mercies to which
he had no claim."
"But who can imagine the magnificent expansion of mind hereafter, when
the whole scheme of nature, of providence, and of grace, shall be
fully revealed, and our capacities enlarged, to comprehend and
appreciate the mighty plan," continued Mr. Granville. "Now, even the
wisest and best of Christians must be satisfied with the intelligent
ignorance of knowing that he knows nothing; for even angels,
travelling on the wings of thought for thousands of years, cannot yet
understand the whole counsel of God; but our present business is to
study and practise here the temper and manners of that celestial city
in which we hope hereafter to reside, that our attachment, begun
indeed now upon earth, may be blessed and perpetuated throughout
eternity."
_C'est bien d'etre avec les gens qu'on aime--leur parler, ne leur
parler pas._ The eye of Mr. Granville now gazed in delighted admiration
on the whole circumference of earth and sky, with a keen perception of
their beauties, and an intelligent recollection that while the eternal
sky and the decaying earth form an apt emblem of soul and body, all the
works of nature may be brought beautifully to exemplify the works of
grace. Marion and he long stood still together in that companionable
silence, which became so soothing and delightful to their spirits, that
neither seemed willing to break the spell.
Both Marion and Mr. Granville delighted in devoutly contemplating the
glories of creation--nature's system of divinity--those "elder
Scriptures writ by God's own hand"--the majestic display of Almighty
wisdom, power, and goodness, in the grand theatre of human life, as
well as in the minutest events of their own existence.
This is religion--not unreal dreams,
Enthusiastic raptures, and seraphic gleams;
But Faith's calm triumph--Reason's steady sway--
Not the bright lightning but the perfect day.
Thus musing together, in silent, speechless happiness, Mr. Granville
was suddenly roused, by observing a young lady approach with agitated
and disordered steps, leaning on the arm of a more elderly female, and
walking at a pace of such unusual rapidity, that it almost amounted to
running. They both glanced frequently and hurriedly behind, as if under
great alarm, while so remarkable an expression of terror was evident in
all their looks and movements, that Mr. Granville, without a moment's
hesitation, stepped forward, and courteously volunteered his services,
while Marion with delighted astonishment, recognised her friend and
companion, Caroline Smythe.
"You seem alarmed! Allow me to offer my assistance!" said Mr.
Granville. "Shall we accompany you?"
"No! no! I am safest alone!" gasped the younger lady, in accents of
wild alarm. "He carries pistols! He is perfectly insane! Stop him if
you can! Oh! stop him! Do not let him follow! Direct him wrong! Do
anything! Try, if you possibly can, to detain him!"
Mr. Granville glanced swiftly round, and observed, with surprise, not
far from the bridge, and turning the sharp corner of a projecting rock,
the figure of a tall, powerful young man, of rather gentleman-like
appearance, wrapped up to the chin in a large cloak, who instantly, on
perceiving strangers, muffled his face closely in his handkerchief, and
drew down his hat, but approached with rapid strides and violent
gesticulations, apparently speaking to himself, and muttering curses
with terrifying vehemence. Not a moment was lost in hesitation, before
Marion assisted the elder lady in supporting Caroline onwards, who
evidently suffered under a mortal terror, while they rapidly dragged
her across the fragile bridge, on which Marion and Richard had so
lately enjoyed some brief and happy moments.
Mr. Granville, in the mean time, approached the stranger so as to stand
directly in his path, and necessarily to impede his progress, while he
steadily fixed his gaze upon the blazing eye of the madman with a calm
and commanding look, which testified an unflinching determination to
obstruct his onward career, and a steady resolution not to be
intimidated by the air of scowling defiance with which he was met.
"Stand back!" exclaimed the stranger, in a tone of maniacal fury. "Life
and death are at stake! stand back! delay me one moment, and you die!"
"Is the bridge secure?" asked Mr. Granville, catching hold of the
madman's arm when he was rushing past, and instantly stooping down as
if to examine the foundation, when, by a powerful effort of strength,
he suddenly hurled the whole fabric into the eddying stream, which
washed the shattered fragments in a moment out of sight.
With a cry of almost fiendish rage, and setting his teeth till it
seemed as if they would be ground to powder, the maniac sprang like a
tiger on Mr. Granville, and would have collared him; but with great
agility he eluded the madman's grasp, and fixed his eyes with an
expression of stern resolution upon his frantic antagonist, till his
face cowered beneath that steady gaze, when he said in a calm, slow,
resolute accent,
"Those ladies shall pass on unmolested. It is base and cowardly to
terrify timid females whom we are bound with our very lives to protect.
Go back as you came, and beware of touching them or me."
A wild and hideous laugh was the maniac's only reply, and his eyes
gleamed more and more fiercely, while he gnawed his lip with rage, but
at length suddenly bursting with irresistible fury past Mr. Granville,
he took a long, quick run to where the bridge had formerly stood, and
instantly, with a single bound of marvellous agility, leaped across.
Richard Granville was for half a moment bewildered with astonishment at
this unexpected achievement, and saw with consternation and dismay that
it would be vain to attempt impeding the infuriated maniac, who turned
a deaf ear to his loudly vociferated remonstrance, and deliberately
fired a pistol in the air, while he held up another in a menacing
attitude towards Mr. Granville, and then replacing the deadly weapon in
his breast, he hastily disappeared along the same path which had been
so recently pursued by the ladies.
Richard, heedless of any danger to himself, became now most seriously
alarmed for the safety of Marion and her companions, therefore he
delayed not an instant to scramble across the stream where it was
fordable, and to follow at his utmost speed. In the impetuosity of Mr.
Granville's career, the ground receded beneath his feet, and as he
rushed onward a band of iron seemed to restrain his breath, for the
road became steeper and more solitary, while long grass and weeds had
grown over the wheel tracks, and the way was impeded by wild straggling
hedges, which threw their sprays of brier and thorn almost entirely
across the way. At length meeting a couple of countrymen, he hurriedly
explained his apprehensions, when they mentioned having met a strange,
wild-looking man, proceeding with long strides in an opposite
direction. To Mr. Granville's great relief, however, they seemed to
think that no ladies could have gone in that way, and after prevailing
on the two laborers, with a bribe, to assist him in capturing the
maniac, he resolutely and fearlessly pursued his course.
Marion, meantime, had accompanied the two ladies in their most
unexpected flight through the forest, at a pace which precluded the
possibility of speaking, except that now and then an ejaculation of
terror, or an expression of fervent thankfulness was wrung from them
when they glanced around, giving a fearful idea of instant danger.
Caroline's pallid lips were parted, her eyes straining forward with
impatient apprehension, and every limb nerved for exertion, while she
silently pursued her way, though her feet seemed to herself as if they
had become lead, in her vehement efforts to fly onwards; and the
countenance of her aunt expressed scarcely less terror.
Without speaking, Marion did all in her power to accelerate their
progress, but at length Caroline's footsteps faltered, her eye became
dim, and she staggered back, faint with fatigue, seeing which Marion
silently pointed to a large empty barn which stood beside the road, and
having supported her within the door, Caroline fell helplessly on the
floor, covering her face with her hands, and trembling visibly in every
limb.
Marion brought water, rubbed Caroline's temples, and tried by every
means to soothe her with the hope of being safe, but in vain--her
tongue grew parched, her eyes became glassy, her features almost livid,
and she faintly pointed towards the door, which Marion barricaded to
the best of her ability. Caroline threw herself back on a heap of
straw, and covered her face with her hands in a helpless agony of fear.
Several minutes afterwards elapsed in breathless silence on the part of
Marion and Mrs. Smythe, when Caroline at length started up, eager to
pursue her course towards the nearest village, now scarcely a mile off,
while her companions earnestly entreated her to rest rather, and
compose herself.
"He has lost the track! he cannot be following us now," said Marion, in
accents of trembling alarm, the agitated tone of which belied her
words, while an icy chill had crept through her veins. "Let us rest
here, we are safe now! He will hurry past! He will not think of
searching for us in this place!"
"He will! he will! when the fit is on nothing escapes him," replied
Caroline, who felt a choking sensation in her throat which impeded her
utterance. "Oh! think of the fearful past! that dreadful night when he
first became insane! Why did I believe him when he promised never to
terrify me more! a horrid dread is upon me! a strange ringing in my
ears! a weight of lead upon my heart!"
"How wonderful that he never can be traced! that he always finds us
out! that if there ever be a moment when we feel peculiarly safe from
his presence, he comes!" whispered Mrs. Smythe, in an under tone, as if
afraid that the very walls might re-echo her words. "We must leave this
neighborhood, we must take new precautions till he can be found and
shut up."
Before Caroline could utter the affirmative, which trembled on her
lips, her eyes became stony with a look of sudden fear, her hands were
faintly clasped together, her parched and livid lips were parted, and
with a half uttered shriek she threw herself behind Marion, riveting
her arms closely round her waist, when, the next minute, a window of
the barn was dashed in with a violence which nothing could resist, and
the maniac, giving a wild cry of malignant triumph, began to clamber
in, clinging to the window-sill with his long bony fingers, while
concealing his face, so that nothing could be seen but his eyes, which
burned like living coals.
"You have deceived me once, but you shall deceive me no more!" said he,
in hoarse, deep accents, and with a ghastly look, while the terrified
girl seemed to wither beneath his glance. "I cannot breathe while you
live! I have shed blood before now, and none can tell who did it! You
may call, but there are none to help--you may weep, but I cannot
pity--you may fly, but there is no escape! My heart is turned to stone!
My blood is liquid fire! Strange figures are gibbering behind me!
Unearthly voices are whispering in my ear! I will do it! Yes! when I
stand on the scaffold to be executed I shall not be nearer death than
you are at this moment."
Marion, conscious that the madman's fury was not directed at herself,
and feeling the courage which arises from desperation, resolved, at
whatever cost, at least to delay, if possible, any catastrophe which
she might not be able finally to prevent, and anxious, even for an
instant, to take the maniac's eye off the trembling girl beside her,
she now walked resolutely forward to the window, though trembling as
much as if she were about to throw herself beside a wild beast in his
cage. Her teeth chattered with terror, and the words seemed to stiffen
in her throat as she uttered them, but still she persevered, saying in
a gentle, soothing accent:
"You are a gentleman, and cannot want money! What would you have? Who
has injured you? Tell me why you pursue us? Think for one moment how
many years you have to live, and how miserable you may be for ever, if
you do a rash act now! Pause and consider, for the curse of God and man
will be upon you!"
The madman gazed for an instant at the pale countenance of Marion,
every feature in which quivered with emotion; he seemed almost ashamed
of his own fearful violence, and was about, in a calmer tone, to reply,
when the barn door was suddenly burst open by the two countrymen, who
entered with Mr. Granville.
"He shall die!" muttered the maniac between his clenched teeth, "Both!
all! all! The power of life and death is here!"
Marion heard a sound of terror close beside her--it was a click, as of
a pistol being cocked, the muzzle of which was directed towards Mr.
Granville, while the maniac deliberately took his aim; but with a
sudden impulse of desperation, she threw her arm upwards, and struck
the fatal weapon, which instantly went off with a report that stunned
her senses.
Nearly blinded by the shock, Marion staggered backwards as if about to
fall, yet strained her eyes, in speechless agony, to ascertain if Mr.
Granville were saved. There was blood upon his cheek, but he rushed
forward at once, and pinioned the madman's arms within his own, while
the two countrymen assisted; and after a severe scuttle, the maniac,
perfectly mastered, lay panting on the floor, while he glared on Mr.
Granville with a frown of baffled malignity, uttering execrations both
loud and deep, so dreadful to hear, that Marion's heart quailed within
her at their awful import, though unable to look round, while occupied
in applying restoratives to Caroline, who had sunk, with a heavy groan,
perfectly insensible on the floor.
After more than ten minutes, during which not a pulse could be felt,
Caroline was carried into the air by Mr. Granville, when the wind,
playing on her cheek, brought on a gradual restoration to life--a
slight fluttering was perceived at her heart, a faint color tinged her
cheek, and with a deep-drawn sigh and a bewildered look, she suddenly
started up, as if about to renew her flight.
"Dear Caroline!" said Marion, calmly, "all is safe! Do not agitate
yourself. We have had, indeed, a wonderful escape."
Miss Smythe embraced Marion in a transport of joy and gratitude, after
which she turned to Mr. Granville, uttering the warmest expression of
her thanks, while he, with an evident desire to conclude a discussion
obviously so agitating to the two ladies, proposed, after amply
remunerating the two countrymen, his assistants, to hurry forward and
send conveyances from the neighboring inn. With one anxious look at the
pale, exhausted countenance of Marion, Mr. Granville hastily
disappeared, meditating, as he hastened along, with deep interest on
his recent adventure, and with pleasing emotion on the happy
_eclaircissement_ which had that morning taken place with Marion,
binding them to each other by the strong ties of honor, principle, and
affection.
Half an hour afterwards, Richard returned with two carriages, in one of
which he placed the ladies, whom he met advancing along the road; but
after proceeding forward with the other, to secure his prisoner, he was
startled and astonished to discover that the maniac and his two keepers
had entirely disappeared.