No sooner had Roseline reached her own apartment, and fastened the
door, than she sunk on her knees, and having for some minutes given
way to the severity of her feelings by tears and lamentations, she
recovered sufficient resolution to supplicate her Maker to support
and direct her in this trying hour of distress. By degrees she became
more composed, and sat down to reflect on her situation with less
agitation and terror. Her father had promised her, and she knew his
promise would be held sacred, that she should indulged with one whole
month to determine whether she would or would not accept the Baron:
she was already determined, but she would avail herself of the few
weeks allowed her to struggle with her feelings, and preserve the
peace and tranquility of her family; besides, it was placing the
dreaded evil at some distance, and that to one so wretched was obtaining
a great deal. After the month was expired, (but to that dreadful moment
she had not yet acquired fortitude to look,) she should still persist
in her resolution; till then she would oblige her father all she could
by quietly receiving the Baron's attentions; but she was resolved not
to deceive him by appearing to receive them with pleasure.
Madeline came to spend the day as had been proposed. Edwin found many
opportunities of renewing his vows, and of making some tender reproaches
for her not seeing him so often as he wished by the subterranean
passage, for which she assigned such prudent reasons, as served in
some degree to quiet his apprehensions, which, however, were rather
increased than abated by observing the marked and particular attention
which was paid by De Willows, who, it was but too visible, cherished
a growing passion in his bosom, which equally tortured Edeliza, Edwin,
Madeline, and himself. Roseline generously determined not to interrupt
the few hours of happiness and tranquillity which her friends seemed
to enjoy, by giving them the most distant hint of her own
internal misery.
They took an opportunity of visiting the prisoner. Madeline was
received by him with the cordial affection of a brother, for she was
the adopted sister of his beloved Roseline,--the chosen friend of her
heart. With him they partook that soft intercourse of soul which gives
to the human mind its highest and most perfect enjoyment. Without fear
or restraint they addressed each other in the pure and unadulterated
language of genuine tenderness, indulging in the innocent and fond
endearments which the sincerity of virtuous love will claim, and with
which its purest votaries might comply without a blush.
But how short and transitory appeared these fleeting moments (on
which she thought old time had bestowed an additional pair of wings)
to the agonized mind of the half-distracted Roseline! who,
notwithstanding her father's prohibition, determined in the course
of the month to inform her mother and brother of every circumstance
that had occurred. She dreaded, more than she would to stroke of
death, imparting to the unfortunate Walter (she had prevailed on Albert
to tell her his Christian name) that he ad a rival, who, authorised
by her father, would endeavour to separate them for ever; and more,
much more than for herself, she trembled for that hapless, persecuted,
unprotected lover, at whose bosom fate had already aimed some of its
most pointed arrows, whose life would be endangered, should her
partiality be discovered--that life on which her own seemed to depend:
his happiness, which was dearer to her than her own, rested with her
only to preserve; if they must be parted, the contest could not be
extended beyond the confines of the grave, and in the friendly grave
they should both find shelter.
The visible change, which appeared the next morning in the countenance
and manners of Roseline, was such as those only who determined not
to see could have avoided observing. Edwin, who met her as she was
going to enter the breakfast-parlour, eagerly cried out, "For heaven's
sake, my dear sister, what, in the name of ill-luck, has happened to
you?--how long have you been ill?"
With tender earnestness she begged him not to mention her altered
looks, promising to acquaint him with the cause the first convenient
opportunity. He agreed to comply with her request, and neither Sir
Philip nor Lady de Morney took any notice; and, when the Baron joined
the breakfast-party, every thing passed as usual. He was very attentive
to his fair enslaver, who, seeing her father's eye sternly fixed upon
her from the moment the Baron entered the room, dared not to repel
his odious gallantry with the coldness and contempt she knew not how
to suppress; but she thought it better to yield submissively to the
mortifications of the present hour, in order to secure to herself the
short respite from certain misery, which upon such painful conditions
had been allowed her.
As soon as breakfast was ended, the Baron and Sir Philip ordered
their horses, and rode out to spend the day at some distance from
the castle. Lady de Morney withdrew to give directions respecting
some domestic arrangements, and the younger part of the family retired
to go on with their usual employments. Edwin followed his sister to
her own apartment, and eagerly requested her instantly to relieve his
mind from the anxiety he could not help feeling on her account, as
he was certain something unpleasant must have happened.
Gratified by this proof of his tenderness and attention to her
happiness, Roseline, after a few painful struggles to suppress her
agitation, and having obtained a solemn promise from her brother,
that, however provoked, or whatever indignation he might feel when
he became acquainted with her internal and hopeless misery, he would
not betray by the most distant hint that she had disobeyed the
positive injuctions of her father, informed him, with many tears,
of the Baron's views in coming to the castle.
Edwin had long suspected something would arise from the frequent
conferences of the Baron and his father, and the unusual reserve of
his mother. He had likewise observed, with some degree of surprise,
the very flattering and uncommon attentions paid to their noble
visitor; he therefore was not so much astonished as his sister expected
he would have been. He carefully avoided filling her mind with
unnecessary alarms at the moment he felt a thousand fears on her account,
and could not restrain his indignation at hearing a tale confirmed
which appeared too absurd almost to be believed. He tenderly embraced,
and vowed to protect her from such cruelty and oppression, should his
father continue obstinately to insist on her giving her hand to a
man she disliked.
He had long known her extreme partiality for the prisoner, which,
though he could not approve, his own clandestine engagements with
Madeline prevented his attempting to condemn. They had innocently
and mutually assisted in bringing each other into situations which
threatened them with many sorrows; they must now in this trying moment
as resolutely determine to extricate themselves, and those they loved,
from distresses which otherwise would in all probability overwhelm
and destroy them.
Edwin, at Roseline's earnest request, was to inform Walter of the
dangers which encompassed them, and of the formidable rival who had
appeared to interrupt their happiness; but she insisted on his
concealing from him the name of that rival, begging him not to give
a hint of his fortune or consequence. Eager to save her lover from
feeling such pangs as she herself had endured, she entreated he would
soften the sad tidings he conveyed, by assuring him he had nothing
to fear from herself, as her affection was equally tender and sincere.
When Edwin had imparted the unwelcome news to the prisoner, though
he observed the strictest caution, and worded the heart-wounding
communication in language best calculated to sooth and quiet those
tormenting apprehensions, to which it would unavoidably give birth,
the effect it had on the unhappy sufferer was dreadful. His agonies
disclosed to the astonished Edwin the strength of an affection which,
while it alarmed him, demanded the utmost pity; and, at that moment,
had he possessed the power of disposing of the hand of his sister, he
would sooner have presented it to his unfortunate friend than to the
greatest monarch upon earth.
Roseline dared not venture to see him for several succeeding hours,
and no sooner were his watchful and inpatient eyes gratified by her
entrance into his solitary apartment, than he hastily arose; and,
throwing himself at her feet, almost inarticulately entreated her
to pronounce his doom.
"Tell me, (cried he,) if you, my only earthly treasure, must be
wrested from me for ever?--if I must not longer hear the soft sound of
that gentle voice, sweeter and more melodious than celestial music? I
can die without reproaching, but I cannot exist without seeing you;
and I will never, never live one hour after you have given your
hand to another.--Madness and torture are united in that
thought!--Let us fly,--let us leave this horrid castle!--The world
is all before us: love shall be our guide. Surely we can find one
little sacred spot that will shelter us from persecution and tyranny;
if not, we can wander, beg, and at last die, together."
"Have patience, my generous, my beloved Walter, (cried the weeping
Roseline;)--I yet trust we shall not be reduced to the hard, the
degrading necessity of taking such desperate and improper steps to
preserve our faith unbroken. Be assured of this, and endeavour to
rest satisfied with a promise I will ever hold sacred,--that, while
our continue the unrivalled possessor of my heart, only actual force
shall compel me to give my had to your rival; and I think I may venture
to say, if I know any thing of my father's disposition, unkind as it
appears at present, he will never go to such unwarrantable and unnatural
lengths to gratify an ambition I never suspected had found place
in his mind."
"Ah! (said the prisoner) you little know, you cannot suspect to what
lengths pride and ambition will carry unfeeling people. I am their
victim, and if I thought you were to suffer as I have done--"
"Attempt not to think about it," interrupted Roseline.
"Consent then to escape this very night. If we stop to deliberate
we are lost,--we are separated for ever! You know not what such love
as mine, when called into action, and blest with liberty, would
enable me to do, to preserve a treasure so dear and estimable. Albert
would go with us: with his direction and assistance, surely we could
procure sufficient from the bowels of the earth to support you in
ease and plenty, if not in affluence."
The entrance of Albert luckily put an end to a conversation which
was become too tender and painful for Roseline any longer to have
kept up that appearance of composure which was absolutely necessary
to quiet the tormenting apprehensions of her lover; she therefore
immediately availed herself of the opportunity to quit his apartment,
and retired to her own.
Within rather less than a week after Roseline's interview with her
father, the alteration which took place in her was such as could not
pass unobserved, but it was wholly imputed to indisposition. She
became much thinner; the rose of health was fled from a countenance
no longer marked with animation. She had no spirits, and was seldom
seen to smile; even the playful fondness of her sister Bertha ceased
to interest or entertain her.
Lady de Morney, who was a tender mother, became alarmed, and imparted
her fears to Sir Philip, who endeavoured to laugh her out of them.
"The poor child (said he) is only a little mother-sick. She is pining,
I suppose, at the thoughts of leaving mamma: you must therefore take
no notice, for I so well know that softness of your disposition, that
a few tears will mould you to her own wayward purposes, and deprive
you of all your resolution. The unfortunate girl will, to be sure,
be sadly hurt at becoming a baroness, and being placed in a situation
to which even the proudest ambition of her parents could not have
aspired. We, therefore, have only to remain silent spectators for a
time, and leave the natural vanity of her sex, united with the sanguine
wishes of youth, to operate for themselves. We will invite company to
the castle; I mean to give a ball in compliment to the Baron:--Roseline
will reign queen of the ceremony; assailed by flattery, softened by
music, exhilirated by exercise, she will forget to sigh in the midst
of gaiety, and cease to disapprove the Baron, when she begins to feel
that consequence which the being noticed by a man of his rank will
give to her."
"Let us then try the experiment as soon as possible, (replied Lady
de Morney;) for I cannot help thinking, unless some change takes
place for the better, our sweet Roseline, instead of bridal finery,
will want only a winding sheet, and that she will be removed from
the castle to her grave."
Sir Philip was displeased; he instantly left the room in order to
avoid returning an answer which he well knew would have been succeeded
by an altercation with his wife.--She saw he was angry, and therefore,
though she was extremely anxious on her daughter's account, she
determined for some time to remain a passive observer, let what would
be the consequence; but she did not experience that serenity of mind
at forming this resolution which she had done on some former occasions,
when she had sacrificed her own will to that of her husband; for,
aspiring as she was by nature, and much as she was always attached to
the gaudy trappings of grandeur and the alluring sounds of title, she
felt the life of her daughter, when put in competition with them, or
even the throne itself, was of infinitely more importance.
De Huntingfield was at this time absent from the castle. Elwyn very
seldom mixed with his brother officers; Elwyn very seldom mixed with
his brother officers; therefore De Clavering, De Willows, and Hugh
Camelford, were ofter left to mess by themselves, the Baron not
appearing to like being much in their society. They were too young
and too pleasing in his opinion, and, as he could not help sometimes
making comparisons not much to his own advantage, it was natural for
him to think the young ladies might do the same. As the three
gentlemen were returning from a walk, they saw the Baron, Sir Philip,
his son, and daughters, going out for one. Observing the apparent
reluctant step and pale countenance of Roseline, as she walked by
the side of her stately and venerable over, and having picked up
some hints which had been dropped at different times of the projected
alliance, De Clavering, with some little indignation, exclaimed, "It
will never do;--I see it will never do:--the girl's spirits are too
low, her uncorrupted mind too pure, and her stomach too weak, to
digest so much pride and acid as that old fellow had in his composition.
His love seems to have operated on her feelings as being so nearly
allied to misery, that she has already caught the infection, and I
wish in the end it may not prove an incurable disease. Upon my soul
I do not wonder at it, for he acts upon my nerves like a torpedo, or
rather as the Greek fire did upon our armies, exciting both fear
and indignation."
"By heaven! (said De Willows,) the folly and ambition of parents,
in respect to their children, are, in my opinion, the most unaccountable
of human absurdities. They form plans from their own passions and
feelings, and then expect that young people can adopt them at their
command, without making any allowance for the material difference
between the sentiments, opinions, and inclinations, of nineteen
and sixty."
"Suppose we all talk to the covernor, and toss the Paron into the
rifer. A coot tucking might trive all the flames and darts of luf
out of his pody, and restore the poor cirl from the crave, to which
the toctor is for sending her like a tog, without giving time for
Christian burial!"
"To argue, or contend with such characters (said De Clavering) would
be like opposing a fiddle against thunder, or a squirt against a
cataract in Switzerland."
"Then, on my soul, (replied Camelford,) you must take the Paron's
pody under your own tirection. With your regimen, and a few of tevilish
experiments, you will, Cot willing, soon dispatch him and his luf
into another world."
"That, indeed, Hugh, would prove an effectual cure; but, in respect
to the Baron, it would not be quite so easily accomplished; for I
look upon him still to possess a constitution that would set physic
and even the doctor himself at defiance.--He seems formed to wrestle
sturdily with death before he will be vanquished, or yield the contest."
"If you can once lay hold of him, and kif him some of your pills
and potions, he would soon be clad to gif up the coast."
"What, then, (said De Clavering) you think me more dangerous than
love?--That little, subtle, and revengeful god will one day bring
you upon your knees before his shrine for the affront put upon his
all subduing influence."
"He had petter let me alone, (replied the Cambrian,) I am not so
plind as his tivine highness, and will nefer worship any cot put the
crate Cot of heaven. Eteliza has taught you petter, De Willows: That
girl's tell-tale eyes petray that luf has been pusy with more than
one person."
De Clavering laughed at this unexpected attack upon his friend, who
felt a painful consciousness that Camelford had more reason for his
observation that he wished, the partiality of the artless Edeliza
being too visible to be longer mistaken. On his own part, he had,
from the first seeing Madeline, cherished an increasing affection
for her, while her uniform and unaffected coldness, with the preference
she had shewn to another, too well convinced him he had nothing to
hope; neither could he any longer affect to be blind to the mutual
attachment which subsisted between her and his friend Edwin, the
latter having made no attempt to deny it; but, being satisfied of
the honour of De Willows, had in part entrusted him with the wishes
he determined to encourage, notwithstanding the insurmountable,
obstacles that appeared to preclude the most distant ray of hope.
"That same love, of which you are thinking and talking, (said
De Clavering,) has so many devilifications in its train, I am
determined to have nothing to do with it, till it becomes more rational,
and can be reduced into a regular system, by which we poor short-sighted
mortals may find directions how to act, without exposing ourselves
to ridicule or disappointment. I am inclined to think I shall one
day or other be tempted to marry, but it shall be to a woman who
will take care to keep such ear-wig sort of fellows as you at a proper
distance.--You tell fine tales, are all smoothness and deceit,--like
a snail can give a gloss to the path you crawl over, and then leave
such traces of your deceptive and invidious progress as cannot be
concealed. Let the subject of your next satire, De Willows, be the
male flirt,--an animal more dangerous than a tyger."
"Why so?" asked De Willows, determined not to apply the hint which
he well knew was designed for him.
"Can there (said De Clavering) be found a character more deserving
satire?--a thing that borrows the form of man to disgrace the name,--an
adept in mean stratagems and mischievous deceives.--insensible to
the admonitions of conscience,--well versed in all the practices of
refined cruelty,--working like a mole in the dark, in order more
effectually to ensnare the youthful heart of unsuspecting innocence,
and that merely to gratify the vicious vanity of the moment; and,
after he had sacrificed the health, happiness, and perhaps the life,
of a young woman, who, by her tender nature, he has beguiled of peace,
he laughs at her credulous folly, and boldly declares he had never
any thought of making her his wife. That there are such men, who,
under the sacred semblance of honour, can act thus despicably, I have,
in the form of one once dear to me as life, unhappily experienced,
and from that moment I became the friend and champion of the sex,
and in bold defiance to all such deceivers, I throw down my gauntlet."
"How, in the name of Cot, came you to be so valiant, (cried Camelford,)
as to think of fighting tuels for other people's pranks?"
"Because many of the fair sex are too gentle to vindicate themselves,
too artless for suspicion, and too lovely to fall a sacrifice, without
arming the hand of courage to avenge their injuries; for I think the
man, who can trifle with the peace of a fellow-creature, may be justly
compared to one of the exhalations of hell, sent to destroy and lay
waste the small portion of happiness allotted to our mortal pilgrimage."
"You are warm, (said De Willows, confusedly;) perhaps I have
undesignedly given you pain, without knowing I interfered with the
wishes or pretensions of any one. On my honour, I never had any; but,
on a subject so important, I cannot speak coolly, or canvass it with
indifference. I will be frank, and own I admire Edeliza; and, were
her heart as much in my power as I fear it is in your's, no man with
impunity should wrest it from me."
"Well said, my prave toctor, (cried Camelford;) little tan Cupit
must next take care of himself, or your will be after tissecting his
cotship; and, though the poor cot is as plind as a peetle, you will
be for couching his eyes, till he can see as clear as yourself."
A servant came to invite them to sup with the governor and his party,
which luckily put an end to a conversation that was become unpleasant.
It made De Willows rather uncomfortable and small in his own opinion,
and compelled him to reflect more seriously on the subject than he
had ever done before. Of Madeline it was folly to think any longer.
If Edwin, who was beloved, dared not hope being blest with her hand,
without the interference of a miracle, what chance could there be of
his succeeding, for whom she felt only the coldest indifference? He
determined to take his heart severely to talk, and to--but it was
impossible for him at that moment to tell how he should dispose of
a heart which had received so many wounds, that it scarcely retained
any of its native mutilated form; but, on a more serious examination,
he found a something lurking in it that made him feel very reluctant
to give up his pleasant and interesting intercourse with the tender
and artless Edeliza, which long habit had rendered more necessary to
his happiness than he was aware of.