CHAPTER LXII

Juliet re-entered her chamber without having been missed, but in a

perturbation of mind indescribable; affrighted, confused, overpowered

with various and varying sensations; wretched for Elinor; dissatisfied

with herself; and yet more at war with what seemed to be her destiny;

ejaculating, from time to time, Oh Gabriella! receive, console,

strengthen, and direct your terrified,--bewildered friend!--

Unusual sounds from the hall soon announced some disturbance; but,

wholly without courage to go forth upon any enquiry, she remained, in

trembling ignorance of what was passing; till she was relieved by a

visit from Selina, which gave her the extreme satisfaction of hearing

that Elinor was actually in the house.

Grief, however, though unmixt with surprize, followed the information,

when she heard, also, that Elinor was in so disordered a state, that she

had been forced from the church only by the interference of Mr Naird;

for whom Mr Harleigh had sent; and who had positively told her, that, if

she would not submit to be conveyed to some house, and try to repose, he

should hold it his duty to send for proper persons to controul and take

care of her, as one unfit to be trusted to herself.

Even then, though evidently startled, she would not consent to go back

to Lewes, which she had quitted, she loudly declared, for ever: but,

after wildly enquiring for Ellis, and being assured that she was

returned to Mrs Ireton's, she was, at length, wrought upon to accept an

invitation, which, through measures that were taken by the active

Harleigh, Mrs Ireton had been prevailed with to send to her; and which

included her sister and Mrs Maple.

What else of the history of this transaction was known to Selina, was

speedily revealed.

The whole house of Mrs Maple had been awakened at day-light, by the

foreign servant of Elinor; who came to bid Tomlinson call up Mrs Maple,

and acquaint her, that he believed that her niece was determined to make

away with herself. She had found means, he said, over night, to induce

the clerk of the church at Brighthelmstone to let her have the key of

the church, to begin a drawing, of one of the monuments, at sun-rise,

when no idle loungers would interrupt her: and the clerk, knowing her

for a lady of property and fashion, in the neighbourhood, had not had

the thought to refuse her. She had made him, the lackey, come for her at

Mrs Maple's, with a post chaise, and wait near the house at three

o'clock in the morning: she and Mrs Golding then got into it, while he

attended, as usual, on horseback. They stopt at a place, by the way, to

receive a heap of things, that he did not take much notice of, as it was

not well light; and then they all gallopped to Brighthelmstone. He

thought no harm, all the time, as his lady so often went about oddly,

nobody knowing why. She made the chaise stop at the church-yard, and

told him, and Golding, to help up with all the things, into the church.

She then said she was going to begin her drawing; and bid the postilion

wait at some inn, till she went for him. But she told the lackey to stay

in the church-yard. She and Golding were then shut up together a quarter

of an hour; when Golding came out, crying. Her lady, she said, had put a

white trimmed stuff dress over her cloaths, that made her look as if she

were buried alive, and just the same as a ghost; and she was afraid all

was not right; for she had made her help to place what she had called a

pallet, for her drawing, upon the altar-table, and it looked just like a

coffin; only it was covered over with paper. She had ordered that they

should both go to an inn, and return for her, with the chaise, at eight

o'clock. Neither of them knew what to make of all this; but so many out

of the way things had passed, and nothing had come of them, that, still,

they should have done only as they were bid, but that the lackey

recollected two loaded pistols, which his lady had made him charge, upon

the route, to frighten away robbers, by firing one of them off, she

said, if they saw any suspicious persons dodging them: and these, which

had been put carefully into the chaise, Golding had seen, in the hand of

her mistress, in the church. This gave him such a panic, that he thought

it safest to ride back to Madame Maple's, and tell the whole at once.

All the family, upon this alarming news, set out for Brighthelmstone,

the moment that the horses could be got ready: and, just as they arrived

at the church, Elinor herself, had appeared, bursting from it into the

porch.

Her indignation at thus being followed and detected, had been terrible:

Who, she asked, had any right to controul her? But that was nothing to

her disturbance, when she found that Ellis had vanished. She grew so

agitated, that it was frightful, Selina continued, to see her; and

looked franticly about her, as if for means to destroy herself: and

nothing could urge her to quit the church, or church-yard, whence she

eagerly tried to command away all others; till Mr Harleigh had recourse

to Mr Naird, who had alarmed her into submission. They had then brought

her in a chaise, between Mrs Maple and the surgeon, to Mrs Ireton's;

where, to hide herself, she said, from light and life, she had gloomily

consented to go to bed; but she raved, sighed, groaned, started, and was

in a state of shame and despair, the most deplorable.

Juliet heard this narration with equal pity and terrour; but no sooner

understood that Mrs Maple had entreated Mr Harleigh to remain at

Brighthelmstone, for a day or two, than she determined to quit the place

herself, persuaded that these bloody enterprizes were always reserved

for their joint presence.

The nearly exhausted Elinor passed the rest of the day without effort,

without speech, and almost without sign of life. But, early on the

following morning, Juliet received from her a hasty summons.

Juliet essayed, by every means that she could devise, to avoid obeying

it; but every effort of resistance was ineffectual. By compulsion,

therefore, and slowly, she mounted the stairs, secretly determining

that, should Harleigh also be called upon, she would seize the first

instant in which she could elude observation, to escape, not alone from

the room, nor from the house, but from Brighthelmstone; whence she would

set off, by the quickest conveyance that she could find, for London and

Gabriella. Elinor, muffled up, and looking pale, haggard, and altered,

was reclining upon a sofa; not in compliance with the request of her

friends, but from an indispensable necessity of repose, after the

violent exertions which had recently shaken her already weakened frame.

At the entrance of Juliet she lifted up her head, with an air of eager

satisfaction, and exclaimed, 'You are really, then, here? And you come,

at length, to my call? Harleigh is less courteous! Triumphant Harleigh!

he leaves me, he says, to take some rest:--rest?--'

She paused, and her under lip shewed her contempt of the idea; and

presently, with a sarcastic smile, she added, 'Yes, yes, I shall

certainly take rest! I mean no less. He, too, will take some rest!

There, at least, ultimately, our destinies will approximate. And you,

even you, victorious Ellis! will sink to vapid rest, like those who have

never known happiness!'

With a laugh, then, but expressive of scorn, not gaiety, she exclaimed,

'And I, too, preaching? Can we never be tired, and good for nothing, but

we must take to moralizing? Summon him, however, Ellis, yourself. Tell

him to come without delay. I am sick;--and he is sick; and you are

sick;--we are all round sick of this loathsome procrastination.'

Alert to seize any pretence to be gone, Juliet was already at the door;

when Elinor, suddenly seeming to penetrate into her intentions, called

her back; and demanded a solemn promise that she would not fail to

return with Harleigh.

To the quick perceptions of Elinor, hesitation was alarm; she no sooner,

therefore, observed it, than she peremptorily ordered Selina and Mrs

Golding out of the room, and then, yet more positively, commanded Juliet

to approach the sofa.

'I see,' she cried, 'your collusion! You imagine, by coming to me

alternately, that you shall keep me in order? You conclude that I only

present myself a bowl and a dagger, like a Tragedy Queen, to have them

dashed from my hands, that I may be ready for a similar exhibition

another day?--And can Harleigh, the noble Harleigh! judge me thus

pitifully? No! no! Full of great and expansive ideas himself, he can

better comprehend the exaltation of which a high, uncurbed, independent

spirit is capable. But little minds deem all that is not common, all

that has not been practised from father to son, and from generation to

generation, to be trick, or to be impossible. You, Ellis, and such as

you, who act always by rule, who never utter a word of which you have

not weighed the consequence; never indulge a wish of which you have not

canvassed the effects: who listen to no generous feeling; who shrink

from every liberal impulse; who know nothing of nature, and care for

nothing but opinion:--you, and such as you, tame animals of custom,

wearied and wearying plodders on beaten tracks, may conclude me a mere

vapouring impostor, and believe it as safe to brave as to despise me!

You, Ellis--But no!--'

She stopt, and her look and manner suddenly lost their fierceness, as

she added: 'Oh no!--You! You are not of that cast! Harleigh can only

admire what alone is admirable. He would soon see through littleness or

hypocrisy; you must be good and great at once--eminently good,

unaffectedly great!--or how could Harleigh, the punctilious,

discriminating Harleigh, adore you? Oh! I have known, and secretly

appreciated you long; though I have been too little myself to

acknowledge it! I have not been calm enough--perhaps not blind enough

for justice! for if I saw your beauty less clearly--O happy Ellis! how

do I admire, envy, revere,--and hate you!'

Shocked, yet filled with pity, Juliet would have sought to deprecate her

enmity, and soften her feelings; but her fiery eye shewed that any

attempt at offering her consolation would be regarded as insult. 'I

disdain,' she cried, 'all expedient, all pretence. However the abortion

of my purpose may have made me appear a mere female mountebank, I have

meant all that I have seemed to mean: though, by waiting for the moment

of most _eclat_, opportunity has been past by, and action has been

frustrated. But I can die only once. That over,--all is ended. 'Tis

therefore I have studied how to finish my career with most effect. Let

Harleigh, however, beware how he doubt my sincerity! doubt from him

would drive me mad indeed! To the torpid formalities of every-day

customs; the drowsy thoughts of every-day thinkers; he may believe me

insensible, and I shall thank him; but, indifferent to my own principles

of honour!--lost to my own definitions of pride, of shame, of

heroism!--Oh! if he touch me there!--if he can judge of me so

degradingly ... my senses will still go before my life!'

She held her forehead, with a look of fearful pain; but, soon

recovering, laughed, and said, 'There are fools, I know, in the world,

who suppose me mad already! only because I go my own way; while they,

poor cowards, yoked one to another, always follow the path of their

forefathers; without even venturing to mend the road, however it may

have been broken up by time, accident or mischief. I have full as much

contempt of their imbecility, as they can have of my insanity. But hear

me, Ellis! approach and mark me. I must have a conference with Harleigh.

You must be present. A last conference! Whatever be its event, I have

bound myself to Elinor Joddrel never to demand another! But do not

therefore imagine my life or death to be in your power. No! My

resolution is taken. Take yours. Let the interview which I demand pass

quietly in this room; or be responsible for the consequences of the

public desperation to which I may be urged!'

Gloomily, she then added, 'Harleigh has refused to come; I will send him

word that you are here; will he still refuse?'

Juliet blushed; but could not answer. Elinor paused a moment, and then

said, 'If he knows that he can see you elsewhere, he will be firm; if

not ... he will return with my messenger! By that I can judge the

present state of your connexion.'

She rang the bell, and told Mrs Golding to go instantly to Mr Harleigh,

and acquaint him that Elinor Joddrel and Miss Ellis desired to speak

with him immediately.

Vainly Juliet remonstrated against the strange appearance of such a

message, not only to himself, but to the family and the world:

'Appearance?' she cried; 'after what I have done, what I have

dared,--have I any terms to keep with the world? with appearances?

Miserable, contemptible, servile appearances, to which sense, happiness,

and feeling are for ever to be sacrificed! And what will the world do in

return? How recompense the victims to its arbitrary prejudices? By

letting them quickly sink into nothing; by suffering them to die with as

little notice and distinction as they have lived; and with as little

choice.'

Mrs Golding returned, bringing the respects of Mr Harleigh, but saying

that he was forced, by an indispensable engagement, to refuse himself

the honour of waiting upon Miss Joddrel.

'Run to him again!--' cried Elinor, with vehemence; 'run, or he will be

gone! Make him enter the first empty room, and tell him 'tis Miss Ellis

alone who desires to speak with him. Fly!'

Yet more earnestly, now, Juliet would have interfered; but the

peremptory Elinor insisted upon immediate obedience. 'If still,' she

cried 'he come not ... I shall conclude you to be already married!'

She laughed, yet wore a face of horrour at this idea; and spoke no more

till Mrs Golding returned, with intelligence that Mr Harleigh was

waiting in the parlour.

The bosom of Juliet now swelled and heaved high, with tumultuous

distress and alarm, and her cheeks were dyed with the crimson tint of

conscious shame; while Elinor, turning pale, dropt her head upon the

pillow of the sofa, and sighed deeply for a moment in silence.

Recovering then, 'This, at least,' she said, 'is explicit; let it be

final! Your influence is not disguised; use it, Ellis, to snatch me from

the deplorable buffoonery of running about the world--not like death

after the lady, but the lady after death! Assure yourselves that you

will never devise any stratagem that will turn me from my purpose;

though you may render ridiculous in its execution, what in its

conception was sublime. Happiness such as yours, Ellis, ought to be

above all narrow malignity. You ought to be proud, Ellis, voluntarily to

serve her whom involuntarily you have ruined!'

Juliet was beginning some protestations of kindness; but Elinor,

interrupting her, said, 'I can give credit only to action. I must have a

conference; but it is not to talk of myself;--nor of you; nor even of

Harleigh. No! the soft moment of indulgence to my feelings is at an end!

When I allowed my heart that delicious expansion; when I abandoned it to

nature, and permitted it those open effusions of tenderness, I thought

my dissolution at hand, and meant but to snatch a few last precious

minutes of extacy from everlasting annihilation! but these endless

delays, these eternal procrastinations, make me appear so unmeaning an

idiot, even to myself, that, for the remnant of my doleful ditty, I must

resist every natural wish; and plod on, till I plod off, with the stiff

and stupid decorum of a starched old maid of half a century. Procure me,

however, this definitive conference. It is upon no point of the old

story, I promise you. You cannot be more tired of that than I am

ashamed. 'Tis simply an earnest curiosity to know the pure, unadulterate

thoughts of Harleigh upon death and immortality. I have applied to him,

fruitlessly, myself; he inexorably refers me to some old canonicals;

without considering that it is vain to ask for guides to shew us a road,

before we are convinced, or at least persuaded, that it will lead us to

some given spot. Let him but make clear, that 'tis his own opinion that

death does not sink us to nothing; let him but satisfy me, that he does

not turn me over to others, only because he thinks as I think himself,

and has not the courage to avow it;--and then, in return, I may suffer

him to send to me some one of his black robed tribe, to harangue me

about here and hereafter.'

All contestation on the part of Juliet, was but irritating; she was

forced upon her commission, and compelled solemnly to promise, that she

would return with Harleigh, and be present at the conference.

The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 4 of 5) · 第 3 / 17 章