A message arrived from father Anselm to say he was ready, and waiting
their pleasure in the chapel of the nunnery. The carriages were instantly
order to the door. Roseline, more dead than alive, was handed into the
first, and followed by her mother and two sisters. The Baron was
accompanied by Sir Philip and Edwin in the second. They soon arrived at
the chapel, and were met there by the abbess, Madeline, and Agnes de
Clifford. Several of the friars and monks also attended. After stopping
a few moments to pay and received the proper compliments, the Baron took
the trembling hand of his intended bride, and led her to the alter.
Father Anselm opened his book, and began the awful ceremony, when the
whole party were thrown into the utmost consternation by the door, which
led from the subterranean passage to the castle, being suddenly burst
open, and Walter, with a drawn sword in his hand, his eyes flashing
fire, followed by Albert, instantly rushed up to the altar, and, calling
to father Anselm in a tone of frenzy, bade him desist or proceed at
his peril.
"The hand of Roseline (he cried) is mine, and mine only! I come to claim
my affianced bride, and accursed be the wretch who shall attempt to
wrest her from me!"
The Baron sunk down, exclaiming,--"Again that dreadful spectre!--Save
me, save me, from it!"
The book dropped from the hands of the venerable priest, and the
terrified and astonished Roseline fainted in the arms of her mother,
while the countenance of every one assembled was marked with surprise
and consternation, but the attitude, the expressive face of Walter, as
he stood gazing on the party, caught every eye, and excited universal
admiration. His dress was scarlet, richly laced: in his hat he wore a
plume of white feathers, fastened by a clasp of diamonds, his tall
elegant form and fine turned limbs presenting a subject for the
statuary, which few could copy in a stile that would have done justice
to the original.
Roseline for some minutes remained in a state of total insensibility,
but the Baron soon recovered sufficient recollection to look around him;
his eyes were again fixed on the prisoner with a look rather of
tenderness than displeasure.
"Tell me, youth, (he cried,) whence comest thou?--to whom dost thou
belong? Those features are as familiar to my astonished sight as they
were once deeply engraved on my heart. Hadst thou worn any other
countenance but that of my once-loved Isabella, my sword ere now should
have taught thee to respect those sacred rites thou hast so rudely
interrupted, but that is the shield which still protects thee, and by
some invisible influence withholds my arm from punishing thy daring
intrusion.
"Then hesitate no longer, my lord, to execute your proposed
vengeance!--(said Walter, gracefully bending one knee to the ground, and
baring his bosom, as if to receive the uplifted sword of the
Baron.)--Roseline is mine, and were there ten thousand swords ready to
pierce my bosom, I would thus publicly proclaim my right."
"How!--what is the meaning of all this? (said the Baron, looking with
indignation at the astonished Sir Philip;)--truth appears to dwell on
the tongue of this youthful stranger.--But why have I been thus grossly
deceived?--why brought into this sacred place to be made a fool of by a
boy and a girl?"
"You must inquire of that same boy, (replied his friend,) of whose very
honourable pretensions I never heard till this moment. Why do you
hesitate, my lord?--why vent your rage on me, when it would be more
justly and properly employed in punishing a madman who has dared to
dispute your claim to the hand of my daughter?"
"His countenance still protects him, (said the Baron.)--Order some of
your people to take the youth into safe custody till this matter can be
investigated."
Father Anselm now inquired if he might go on with the ceremony.
"Not till I have been heard, (cried Walter,) though you tear me piece-meal,
shall you proceed!"
Roseline had recovered, but she was still surrounded by her female
friends. The voice of Walter operated like a charm. She gently raised
her eyes to his face, and begged he would be patient; then, addressing
her father, entreated he would not permit any one to hurt him: "I, and I
alone, (said the generous maid,) ought to suffer.--My dear Walter,
(cried she,) contend no longer for me: think not of risking a life which
is too precious to be so madly thrown away. Let every circumstance which
led to the painful occurrences of this morning be openly and candidly
explained, and let us rest our cause on the justice and humanity of the
Baron, father Anselm, and Sir Philip de Morney. I wish not to make my
appeal before any other tribunal."
The Baron, who now for the first time discovered Albert among the crowd,
(for the contest had brought all the inhabitants of the nunnery into the
chapel,) started as if he had seen a spectre. He became more agitated
than before, and requested they might return to the castle, than an
investigation of this strange business might instantly take place, for
his own heart informed him there was some awful mystery to be explained.
Albert approached him: "My lord, (said he,) till this moment I have
supposed you cruel, unjust, and unfeeling: my heart reproaches me for my
injustice. I begin to see through the cloud which has too long enveloped
me. I suspect we have been equally deceived,--alike the dupes of
artifice and guilt."
"Art thou not Albert? (exclaimed the Baron,)--the confidential servant
of the Lady Blanch, and the favourite of her brother?"
"I am the same unfortunate person, my lord, (replied Albert;) and am not
only ready to account for my being here, but to give you all the
intelligence in my power respecting some very interesting circumstances
with which till this moment I never supposed you unacquainted. My dear
sir, (said he, turning to his agitated master,) endeavour to be more
composed:" for the countenance of Walter was too faithful an index to
his mind to enable him to conceal the conflicting passions which
tortured his bosom, and, while his attention was divided in observing
the Baron and Roseline, he seemed sinking beneath his own agonizing
emotions.
Father Anselm, the lady abbess, and two bride-maids, were requested to
return with the party to the castle. A guard was ordered to take charge
of Walter and his servant, but he informed them the order might be
countermanded; for, being a prisoner, he had requested three gentlemen
from the castle to attend him, lest he should subject himself to the
suspicion of designing to escape.
De Clavering, De Willows, and Camelford, were now summoned from the
passage, where they had impatiently waited to see how this strange and
unaccountable business would terminate. This occasioned further surprise
to Sir Philip, who restrained his rising displeasure with only desiring
them to take charge of the gentleman they had chosen to escort, and to
be ready to appear when called upon.
Before Walter left the chapel, he approached the Baron, and presented
him his sword. "To you, my lord, (said he,) I am impelled to yield a
weapon which never yet was stained with human blood, and at this moment
I feel grateful joy that it was not aimed against your life. Most
ardently do I desire to prove myself deserving of your friendship, and
worthy of your esteem."
The Baron returned his sword, and requested him to wear it. "You have
already obtained your wish, (said he, smiling,) and that I must confess
against my inclination; but there is something about you speaks a
language I find difficult to explain, and cannot comprehend."
Every countenance was brightened up with hope and expectation at this
reply of the Baron, except that of Sir Philip de Morney. Even the cold
and frigid father Anselm, who, in his long seclusion from the world,
had, as it may naturally be supposed, lost many of those generous and
tender feelings which a more unrestrained intercourse with his
fellow-creatures would have helped to cherish, seemed animated and
enlivened. It was agreed that Walter and his friends, accompanied by
Edwin, should return the same way as they had entered, and the rest of
the party be conveyed in the carriages.--After proper apologies being
made to father Anselm, and some of his brethren, for the unnecessary
trouble they had so undesignedly occasioned, they returned to the
castle,--with what different feelings than those they carried with them
to the chapel I must leave my readers to imagine.
No sooner were the party assembled in the drawing-room, than the Baron
requested that the young man and his servant might be summoned to give
some account of themselves, and explain their motive for their daring
and unprecedented proceedings; at the same time, observing in the
countenance of Sir Philip de Morney indignation, resentment, and
disappointment, he addressed him in the following words.
"I should not, Sir Philip, presume to take the liberty I have now done,
did I not, from the nature of our intended connexion, consider myself as
authorised to act in this castle as if I were in my own. I am afraid
some very dark transactions have been carried on which it is necessary
should be investigated, and be brought to light. A mysterious cloud
hangs over us, which I am impatient to disperse. Woe be to that man who
has assisted to deceive me!"
"If you doubt my honour in what has passed between us, (retorted Sir
Philip,) you do me injustice, and I shall, at any time and in any place,
be ready to meet you upon whatever terms you please. If my daughter has
deceived me,--if she has dared to encourage the hopes of an
adventurer,--a maniac,--a traitor,--let her remember that her crime will
not be her only punishment, nor will the sacrifice of her father's life
be a sufficient atonement for the disgrace and dishonour she has
entailed on the name of De Morney."
Roseline burst into tears, in which she was joined by every one of her
female companions, who trembled lest some dreadful catastrophe should
close the heart-rending scenes of this eventful morning.
"It may be happy for us both, (said the no longer haughty Baron, whose
complicated feelings had produced an instantaneous revolution among his
contending passions,) that at this moment I do not find myself inclined
to engage in any farther hostilities, till I am better satisfied the
affront and disappointment were intended for me. If I have been meanly
and wilfully deceived, my sword shall revenge me upon those, and those
only, who are found guilty, and dearly shall they atone for the
injustice they have practised; therefore, till matters are cleared up, I
am content to be silent on a subject which, I hesitate not to declare,
appears to me inexplicable."
Roseline, who would have given the world to have obtained permission to
retire during the awful investigation which was going to take place,
dared not make an attempt to withdraw, as she saw by the eyes of her
father his rage and indignation were only kept from breaking out by the
determined manner and authoritative tone of the Baron, who did not
appear in a humour, notwithstanding his language spoke the spirit of
peace and candour, to put up with any contradiction. Again he expressed
the most restless impatience to be confronted with the parties, who had
so unaccountably deprived him of his young bride, by stopping the
marriage-ceremony.
In a few moments the painful suspense was ended by the eager and
intrepid entrance of Walter, the three companions of his enterprise, and
his humble friend: they were desired to be seated. Walter and Albert,
however, continued standing, requesting they might be permitted to do
so, till they should be acquitted or condemned. The Baron instantly
called upon Albert to perform his promise, and, if he were really the
honest man he pretended to be, to step forwards, and without fear or
prevarication, before the present party, inform them who it was he
acknowledged as his master, and prove the justice of those claims which
he had made to the hand of his elected bride, and what were his
inducements for the preventing of a marriage, sanctioned by the lady's
own consent, and the unequivocal approbation of her parents."
"I am happy, my lord, (replied Albert, in a firm, manly, and
unembarrassed, tone of voice,) to be thus generously and publicly called
upon. Unpractised in either guilt or deceit, and having nothing to fear
from my own self-reproaches, I hail this moment, awful as I own it
appears, as by far the happiest of my life. But, before we proceed any
farther in this important business, I must entreat your lordship to
perform an act of tender and atoning justice, for which I trust you will
find an approving advocate in your own heart, and require little farther
testimony than the receipt carried in a countenance which you have
already confessed has stamped its validity upon every tender feeling of
your soul.
"My dear, dear sir, (continued he, addressing himself to the trembling
Walter,) throw yourself at the feet of the noble Baron; for, as sure as
you now live to claim that distinguished honour, you are his son, his
only lawful heir!--the darling offspring of the Lady Isabella
Fitzosbourne, who, to give you life, yielded up her own."
Walter in an instant was at the feet of the Baron, and in another the
interested and astonished party saw them locked in each other's arms, at
the same moment the agitated Roseline sunk into those of her mother. In
a little time every one became more composed, and the Baron, resolutely
struggling to acquire a greater degree of firmness in order to obtain
farther information, exclaimed, in a tone of voice that evinced the
nature of his feelings, "You are, you must be my son!--Nature, at first
sight of you, asserted her just, her powerful claims: yes, you are the
precious gift of my sainted Isabella,--the only pledge of a love that
was pure and gentle as her own heart and mind! but how, where, by what
cruel policy and unfeeling hand have you thus long been concealed from
my sight?--how prevented from enjoying the advantages of your
birth-right, while I was tortured with the belief that death had robbed
my of my son?"
"Of all these matters, my lord, Albert can fully inform you, (said
Walter.) He is much better able to explain them than I can possibly be,
who till this hour did not know I should ever be folded in a father's
arms; yet to me Albert has been a father, a friend, and a guardian. For
my sake he has voluntarily buried himself for years in the gloomy and
narrow confines of a dungeon; for my sake suffered the punishment of the
most atrocious offender without being guilty of a single crime. If you
therefore condescend to love and acknowledge me for a son, you will feel
for him the affection of a brother. To you, my lord, I am indebted for
life,--to this, my second father, I owe its preservation."
"Generous man! (cried the enraptured Baron, who was charmed at hearing
the noble sentiments of his son,) come to my arms, and command my power
to serve you!"
Albert would have knelt at his feet, but was prevented by a warm embrace
from putting his design in execution. Walter was now seated by the side
of his happy father, who, observing that his eye wandered in search of
something, with anxious tenderness, soon guessed the cause, and,
instantly rising from his chair, took his hand, and led him to the
weeping Roseline, who, smiling through her tears, instantly proved how
warmly she participated in the happiness. Walter, though the
acknowledged son of Baron Fitzosbourne, was still a son of nature: he
sunk at her feet, and in the unadulterated language of rapture and
affection, exclaimed.--"For a moment like this, who is there would not
suffer years of anguish! Look down, my gentle friend, my benefactress
and protecting angel,--my first, my last, and only love, and let me in
your smiles find a confirmation of my bliss! Let them convince me that
all I see and hear is real; for I am almost tempted to think it must
be the effects of enchantment, of the delusions of a distempered
imagination."
Roseline, no longer awed by the presence of her father, no longer able
to conceal the joy which revelled in her bosom, gave him her hand, which
he instantly conveyed to his lips. Albert, who carefully watched every
change in the countenance of his beloved master, trembled for the
consequence of such new and high-wrought feelings, lest they should be
attended with danger to a mind which had so recently been sunk in a
state of the lowest dejection. With the approbation of the party, who
saw the necessity of the design, he prevailed upon him to retire for a
few minutes, in order to acquire sufficient fortitude to hear his own
story recited with composure. This request being seconded by his father
and Roseline, he immediately complied, leaving the company so much
charmed with the whole of his behaviour, through the interesting scene
we have described, and so captivated with his figure, good sense, and
sweetness of manners, that surprise was lost in admiration. As soon as
the two friends had withdrawn, (for, if ever any one deserved the name
of friend, that title belonged to the worthy Albert,) Sir Philip de
Morney approached the Baron, and with some little embarrassment
congratulated him on the wonderful discovery which had so recently and
unexpectedly taken place.--He then entered on his own defence, with the
candour and ease of one, who, if he had erred, it proceeded from
ignorance.
"That I have undesignedly been made an agent in the diabolical injustice
practised against your son, by keeping him confined in this castle, I
beg your lordship's pardon, and entreat you would use your influence to
procure the forgiveness of him whom I have innocently injured. He was
brought to this place under a fictitious name, and, with the false
pretence of being at times deranged in his intellects, I was told he was
the illegitimate offspring of a person inimical to the plans of
government, and easily wrought upon by his associates to enter into any
scheme which the enemies of his country might throw in his way; at the
same time it was asserted that he was particularly disliked by a great
person in high office. All that was required of me was to keep him and
his servant in close confinement,--to suffer on one to see or converse
with them, and to convey no letters nor messages beyond the walls of the
castle. This request came from one with whom I looked upon as a
respectable character. He had previously obtained permission of the
noble owner of the castle for the use of its dungeons, but who, as well
as myself, must have been led into the practice of so glaring a piece of
tyranny by the designs and misrepresentations of those whose interest
led them to keep your lordship in ignorance of your son's being alive.
In justice I ought to inform you, that I was ordered to supply them
liberally with every necessary accommodation the nature of their
situation would admit, and was not restricted, if I found them quiet and
submissive, from allowing them some occasional indulgences. I take shame
to myself when I own, that, after I had seen them safely lodged in their
dungeon, and had forbidden any one attempting to go near or hold
conversation with them, I never visited them more than once, concluding
they were two dangerous and worthless people, who were receiving the
reward of their base actions, and contenting myself with only making
such inquiries as the duties of my situation imposed. Indeed I thought
very little about them, and waited with composure for the farther
explanation promised by my friend, when we met to settle the accounts
for their board, &c. How the youthful prisoner became acquainted with my
daughter, or by what means he obtained an introduction to her, I am to
this moment totally ignorant."
"If it can be as well accounted for (said father Anselm) who for some
time had remained silent with surprise,) as you have accounted for the
part you were prevailed upon to act, I think the most rigid judge will
find but little to condemn."
"I have no fears (replied the Baron) but their actions will stand quite
as clear; the sparkling eyes of my affianced bride are at this moment
telling tales of their own beguiling influence, and testifying by their
intelligent language that I am right in my conjectures. No wonder, as
she conquered the father, she should have wounded, and rendered the son
doubly at captive: but here comes the fortunate culprit. Let us hear his
defence before we venture to pronounce whether he is entitled to
forgiveness and an honourable acquittal, or merits condemnation for
daring to fall in love while sentenced to languish in a dungeon."
Roseline, having now shaken off that languor and despondency which for
so many days had depressed the generous and active feelings of the
gentlest of human minds, impelled by justice and the unbounded affection
she had long felt for Walter, exclaimed, "If every virtue merits reward,
if every good and engaging quality be entitled to happiness, your son,
my lord, will be the happiest of men; for, to the long list of virtues
he inherits from his noble ancestors, you will find added all the
bounteous gifts which nature could bestow on her most distinguished
favourite."
This artless eulogium was not made without a blush, and the rose which
blossomed on her cheek gave to her face an expression which, in the eyes
of the Baron, exceeded that of the most perfect beauty. Walter, followed
by Albert, now returned into the room.
"Come here, young man, (said his father, in a tone of gratified
affection,) come and prove yourself worthy of the character I have heard
given of you by a very lovely historian. Sit down by me, and endeavour
to keep your mind free from agitation, and your spirits composed, while
our friend Albert gives us the promised narration, which is to establish
your claim to my name as firmly as your merits and conduct have already
done to my regard; for, though you played me a sly and mortifying trick
before I had the happiness of knowing you, I find in myself little
inclination to resent it. Take notice, however, that perhaps I shall not
be quite so favourably inclined to execute any deviations in future,
should a certain young lady be in the case." This was spoken in a tone
that proved the Baron was far from being dissatisfied at having found a
rival, so long as he had gained a son.
General congratulations now took place, and the merry, good-humoured
Hugh Camelford, after jumping up and cutting a few capers in the true
stile of Cambrian hilarity, declared he could dance a fandango with his
cranmother; or the toctor, round the topmost pattlements of Pungay
Castle, for he never lifed a happier moment since he was porn. Every eye
spoke the same language, and De Clavering said, though he dreaded the
oyster-shell devilifications of a woman's mind, he had a pretty widow in
his eye, whom he should entreat to take care of him for life. Sir
Philip, with a smile, whispered Lady de Morney, telling her, he thought
after all women catered to best for themselves in the choice of their
husbands: for, prejudice out of the question, the Baron's son was
certainly the finest young man he had ever seen.--As all the party were
impatient to hear the tale Albert had to communicate, he was requested
to begin, which he did in the following manner.