TWO LOVES FOR ONE HEART.
Oriana sighed as if her heart were breaking, and said to herself,
dear friend, in a woful hour the boon was granted.
AMADIS OF GAUL.
Notwithstanding the graces of her person and richness of her attire,
there were many bright and beautiful beings present who attracted
more attention than the timid and retiring Lilian Napier; but in her
whole air and manner it is not easy to imagine a girl more
exquisitely lady-like. Her long eyelashes were drooped upon her soft
and changing cheek, veiling her soft glances, and imparting to her
eyes an expression of timidity and modesty, which lent additional
charms to the fine features of her adorable little face. The ball
delighted, the music exhilarated her; and she soon raised her head,
like a flower when the dew is past. Her blue eyes were full of
animation; her cheek was flushed; the most enchanting grace was in
all her motions. She was glorious; and Walter felt that he adored
her.
Her friend, gay Annie, outshone her in showy and dazzling beauty; but
to those who knew and loved the winning manner of Lilian, and beheld
how her cheek mantled with the emotions of her heart, while her eyes
beamed with the purest good-nature and vivacity, she was indeed one
without a peer (as the King said of her mailed ancestor), and one
fair star that charms us thus, is worth a thousand of those brighter
planets that shine alike on all.
But nothing could be more brilliant than the loveliness of Annie.
Tall, full, and graceful, in all the bloom of twenty, and radiant
with health, white satin, and diamonds, she excited the admiration of
her companions, while little Lilian touched their hearts. There were
many fair girls present, who, like mistress Laurie, had in their
manners a considerable dash of Parisian coquetry, which is always
excessively attractive to beaux, though a timid and retiring girl,
like Lilian, is sure, in the end, to prove the most loveable and
devoted.
At that time, the _tone_ of society in Edinburgh was very different
from what it had been during the rampant reign of Presbyterianism,
and equally so from that which characterized it twenty years
afterwards, when the gloom, depression, and humiliation of the
country, and the empty desolation of the capital "communicated to the
manners and fashions of society a stiff reserve, precise moral
carriage, and a species of decorum amounting to moroseness." At the
period of our narrative, it was very different. The recent residence
of foreign ambassadors and influence of a court, the existence of a
parliament--(for _centralization_, that grand curse of Scotland, was
then unknown)--the long intercourse with France, in the armies of
which all younger sons and cavaliers of good family took a turn of
service, had communicated a lightness to the manners of the
aristocracy, very different indeed from the "moroseness" which
succeeded the Revolution, and still more so that great national
paralysis, the Union, which was so long a source of regret to our
grandfathers.
Walter longed to change the commonplace tenor of the conversation,
mentioned in the last chapter, and endeavoured gradually to broach
the sentiments that lay nearest his heart; but he either wanted tact,
or the figures of the dance put him out, or a crowded room was not
quite the place for it. The young lady too was somewhat reserved;
she remembered the affair of the glove, and thought it quite
necessary to be so.
"So you will not go with me to-morrow to see this old witch burned?"
said he.
Lilian shuddered.
"Ah, how could you think of it?"
"Lady Mary of Charteris is going--all the Earl of Dumfries' windows
are occupied, but I think I could procure you a seat somewhere,
overlooking the Castle-hill."
"I would not go for the wealth of the Indies. Oh, is it not said
that she confessed some horrible things?"
"As you would have done, fair Lilian, if questioned in the same
manner."
"And what did she reveal?"
"That she was kissed and christened anew by the devil, whom she met
at the Gallowlee one mirk midnight, when he imprinted his mark
between her shoulders; and though the minister of St. Giles and my
Lord Mersington ran a long needle thrice through the infernal signet,
she neither winced nor betrayed the least uneasiness."
"Betouch us too! The wicked woman deserves to die--but her
death--how horrible! And she really sold her soul? Oh, what
appearance had the devil--and what said he?"
"If all be true that appears in the _Mercurius Caledonius_, which I
saw to-day in Blair's Coffee-house, Satan is a very well-bred and
gentlemanlike man," replied Walter, laughing. "He wore a lowland
bonnet, and had his nether foot in a buff boot to conceal its
deformity. He was somewhat rough, and had a beard of iron wire. He
kissed the witch whose spells had conjured him up, and said in husky
French, 'Permittez moi, Madame,' adding thereafter in our kindly
Scottish, 'What's your will, cummer?'
"And so Monsieur Le Diable kissed her? He has long been proverbial
for very bad taste. His witches are always so old, so ugly, so
hideous!"
"After giving her all the power she required, Master Mahoud vanished
in a whirlwind."
With all the credulity incident to the time, and though deeply imbued
with a sense of the ridiculous, Lilian shuddered; but be it
remembered, that the grave and learned senators of the College of
Justice had that very morning trembled at the same appalling recital.
"And the power," she faltered.
"Ample it was indeed. She could brew hell-kail, and wherever it was
sprinkled the soil was scorched, the herbs were blasted, and whoever
trod thereon died. Water would not drown, nor hemp hang her. She
could bewitch cattle that were without St. Mungo's knot on their
tail."
"Mungo--poh! he was a papist."
"And blight children, and bring sickness on her enemies by roasting
waxen images, and in short do more mischief than was contained in
wise King James's Dæmonology, or the box of Pandora."
"Pandora--was she a papist too?--Away with this witch! she must
indeed be an ill woman. But now, Mr. Fenton, do you really believe
in all the charms of these old enchantresses?"
"No, but I do devoutly in those of the young," he added gaily, as he
led her down the dance, resigned her to Douglas, and turned to Annie
Laurie, who whispered,
"Saw ye who overheard your tête-à-tête?"
"No," he replied, laughing; "but perhaps it was the great subject
thereof."
"One not much better, certes. He is behind you now."
Walter turned and beheld the large dark eyes of Lord Clermistonlee,
fixedly regarding him with an expression too hostile to be
misunderstood. He replied by a glance as haughty and as stern; but a
cold and inexplicable smile curled the proud lip of the handsome
roué, as he turned slowly away, and addressed himself to Lady
Charteris, the beautiful blonde, who rustled in a ponderous suit of
brocade, and stood five feet seven inches independent of "cork-heeled
shoon," being in every sense of the word what the Scotch were wont to
consider a "fine" woman, one of those stately and patagonian
beauties, of whom once in a time Edinburgh could always boast a large
stock, but who appear to have vanished with the hoops and
fardingales, the bobwigs and laced coats, the gentlemanly spirit and
the sterling worth of the "last century."
In the middle of the cotillon, Fergusson of Craigdarroch, who had
been looking unutterable things for some time, now approached, and
twisting his moustachios, said with cold hauteur,
"Your humble servant, Mr. Douglas."
"Craigdarroch, yours," rejoined Finland, quite as coldly, and they
surveyed each other from head to foot.
"I requested the honour of Mistress Laurie's hand for this cotillon."
"Indeed!" replied Finland, in the same cavalier tone, and raising his
eyebrows with a well-bred stare of surprise. "You have forfeited it
by being too late, however."
"You will not resign in my favour?"
"Zounds!" said Finland, frowning. Fergusson's cheek glowed with
passion.
"You have your rapier with you?"
"Here, at your service," replied Douglas, in the same low tone, and
bit his glove.
"Good. When the cotillon closes I will be in the garden, where the
moonlight is bright enough to enable us to come to a proper
understanding." Douglas nodded significantly, and his rival
withdrew. Annie, who had been gaily chatting for a minute with some
passer, had not heard what passed--Lilian Napier did, or at least,
she saw enough to alarm her. Douglas went through the cotillon with
his usual gaiety and grace; and after a short promenade, handed his
unconscious partner to a seat; but instead of posting himself behind
it as usual, to Annie's great surprise and indignation, he beckoned
Walter Fenton, and they left the room together.
At that moment Lilian, with a pale lip and agitated eye, glided to
the side of her friend, and whispered:
"Where has the Laird of Finland gone?"
"I know not, and I care not," replied Annie, pettishly, flirting her
large fan; "but the varlet left me abruptly enough, and 'tis not his
wont. This comes of loving soldiers--fie!"
"O! Annie," said Lilian, in a breathless voice, "they have followed
Craigdarroch to the garden. There has been a feud about your dancing
with one when engaged to the other; and something terrible will
assuredly come of it."
"Preserve me, Heaven! O! in my heedlessness I did so, and they will
be fighting about it--blood ever comes of a Scotsman's quarrel. My
God! Lilian--where is the Earl--the Countess--to whom shall I speak?
Stay--let us not spoil the merriment around us. The garden, said
you? I know the way, and if the cavaliers are there, I will soon
make them sheath their rapiers, I warrant you."
Lilian took her arm; and though it was not easy for two such bright
stars to leave their orbit unseen, they contrived, to elude
observation, to glide down stairs, and reach the old-fashioned
garden, on the rich flower-beds, leaden nymphs and corydons,
box-edged walks and thick green holly hedges of which, several flakes
of strong light fell in long ruddy lines from the grated windows of
the mansion.
The full round moon was sailing in summer radiance through clouds of
fleecy whiteness, and threw her slanting beams in showers of silver
on the shrubbery and terraces of the garden. All was still and
silent; the agitated girls could not perceive any one; but,
trembling, they listened fearfully for the clash of swords or the
jingle of spurs.
"Oh! if they should have gone to the fields, where we cannot follow
them!" murmured Annie, in great agitation. "God guide me!" she
added, pressing her hands upon her temples, and displaying, as she
did so, two beautiful and braceleted arms, that shone like alabaster
in the moonlight. "O! if blood is shed for me, I will never smile
more. Ah! surely they will not fight about such a trifle as my
preference in a cotillon."
"Dear Annie, think you your love is a trifle to spirits as these?
They will fight, and desperately too. Douglas bit his glove, and
that, Aunt Grisel says, is an old border sign of deadly feud;
Craigdarroch will never forgive it; and I saw his black eyes flash
fire, as he bit his gauntlet in reply, and turned sharply away on his
heel."
At that moment they heard the voice of Douglas. He was close by, but
one of those dark holly hedges, so common in ancient gardens,
interposed its thick impervious screen between them.
"'Tis well!" he exclaimed; "but ere we come to slash the doublets we
were born in, Walter, unclasp this iron shell of mine: Craigdarroch
is minus a corslet, and we must fight on equal terms. A merry
moonlight, gentlemen, for a camisadoe. A clear field, and no favour.
Shall we fight with our buff gloves on?"
"That is as you please," replied another guardsman, the young Laird
of Holsterlee, who was Craigdarroch's second. "But speak softly, or
Dunbarton's guard of Dragoons may overhear us. Ah! gentlemen, this
cometh of the sin of promiscuous dancing--men mingling with women,
whilk is ane abomination in the sight of the Lord!" he added in a
sing-song voice. "Ha! ha! so say the dogs of the Covenant. Are ye
ready, sirs!"
"All ready," replied Craigdarroch, unsheathing his long troop-sword.
"Be brief, gallants," said Holsterlee, "and sink points on the first
blood drawn. I hope the the Earl's guests will not disturb us; but
ere ye tilt at each other's throats, Finland, as a dear friend to
both, I ask thee to apologise to Craigdarroch."
"Apologise to the devil!" rejoined Douglas, as he threw away his
corslet and plumed hat, drew his rapier, and stood on the defensive,
while his antagonist confronted him in the same manner. Handsome,
richly garbed, graceful, and athletic, they would have formed a noble
study for an artist, as they remained steadily watching each other,
their eyes sparkling, and their long keen blades gleaming like blue
fire in the moonlight. Such was the aspect they presented when the
terrified girls hurried by a circuitous path towards them.
"Oh! Finland--Finland!" muttered Annie.
A well-bred man of the present day, on seeing a lady, whose hand he
had engaged, dancing with another, would not take any unpleasant
notice of it, however mortifying the preference might be; but not so
the bold cavalier of the seventeenth century. To fight or be
dishonoured were the only alternatives. Craigdarroch was infuriated,
and Finland rapidly found his blood boiling up in turn; but ere a
blow could be struck, his beautiful Annie, like a fairy or angel of
peace, glided between them, and the menacing points of the rapiers
were lowered at her approach.
"Sheath your swords this instant, sirs!" said she, with a
half-playful, half-earnest imperiousness, which the gentlemen showed
no disposition to resist. "Up with them! and remember it was an
ancient rule of chivalry that knights combatants became friends at a
woman's approach. Come hither, Mr. Holster, and tell me what these
gay rufflers have quarrelled about."
"Yourself, fair madam," replied Holsterlee, a tall athletic young
man, whose fair complexion consorted ill with a sable wig, and in
whose sporting air there was a certain jaunty swagger, bordering on
the vulgar, but acquired chiefly by frequenting Blair's Coffee-house
at the Pillars, the Race-course at Leith, and every tavern and stew
wherever he happened to be quartered--Clermistonlee's furious
dinner-parties, and the company of all the horsemongers, bucks,
bullies, and courtezans in the city;--"yourself, fair madam; and on
my honour, I know no prize in all broad Scotland so well worth
tempting buff under bilboa for."
"Prize, sir!" retorted Annie. "Do you talk of me as if I were your
famous roan horse, or the city purse you expect it to win at Easter?
Go to, sir! Certes, gentlemen, you honour me greatly by accounting
me merely a sword-player's prize--the guerdon of a duello between two
cut-throats! I am infinitely obliged to you," she added curtseying
low. "But if you are determined to fight, O do so, good sirs," she
continued, with a merry laugh; "but I am not for you, Finland, at all
events."
"Indeed! madam," rejoined Finland, as he bit his nether lip, and
grasped his sword. "Craigdarroch, then, I presume is the
favoured----"
"Nor he either, quotha!"
"Ha, ha!--ho, ho!" shouted Holsterlee. "May the great diabulus roast
me in my own ribs if this isn't good! Who then, fair Annie?"
"What is it to such as thee, sirrah?" she replied, stamping her
pretty foot scornfully; but the beautiful rogue laughed as she added
slowly, "I have not yet made up my mind whether to accept Sir Thomas
Dalyel of the Binns, or that very accomplished cavalier----"
"Who? who?" they all asked.
"Lord Mersington."
"Zounds!" laughed Holsterlee; "but that old cock hath a roost-hen
already--a brave girl--a bouncer that can coquette and ruffle it,
without snaffle or martingale; a thorough-pacer, by the Lord--ho, ho!"
"As this is her choice," said Douglas, who perfectly understood the
humour of his waggish mistress, "I think, Craigdarroch, we had better
shake hands on't, as neither will be a winner in this affair."
"Yes, yes--shake hands like whipped schoolboys, and quarrel no more.
So, up with your rapiers!--or, as the comedy says, the dew will rust
them. But as a penance on you, Mr. Douglas, for fighting without my
express permission, I shall dance with the Laird of Craigdarroch, and
no one else, while you lead out old Dame Drumsturdy, or some such
witch, whose most devoted you must be for the remainder of the night."
"How droll! O! I shall die with laughing," cried Lilian, clasping
her hands with delight at this happy conclusion.
"Nay--fair Annie," said Douglas, "under favour--I must implore----"
"Not a word, sir, of extenuation or excuse. You shall walk a minuet
with old Lady Drumsturdy, who is as charming as patches, puffs, and
rouge can make her."
Holsterlee laughed till the braces of his corslet started.
"Tush! Annie--O by all the devils, I shall be the laughing-stock of
the whole city."
"I care not."
"Gadzooks! I'll have a duel with old Dalyel next."
"I care not. And, ah! Mr. Fenton, I must find a way to punish you
too. But come, Lilian, love--Craigdarroch, your hand."
Douglas joined in the laugh against himself, as Annie was led off by
his rival, while Walter gave his hand to Lilian, and they hastened
back to the ball-room in the happiest mood. Douglas, while loitering
a little behind to clasp the braces of his cuirass, was attracted by
the voice of Lord Clermistonlee, a man whom, of all others in
Edinburgh, he disliked, in consequence of an old grudge between them,
when they exchanged blows in a brawl at Blair's Coffee-house. Though
he scorned being a spy upon his Lordship, the fact of his overhearing
the name of Lilian Napier pronounced in a very audible whisper--his
knowledge of the speaker's passion, and of what he was
capable--formed a sufficient whet to his curiosity, and were, he
deemed, quite a warrant for assuming the unpleasant part of
eavesdropper.
Clermistonlee was standing near a gate, which afforded communication
between the crowded courtyard and the quiet gardens, and through its
iron bars the bright moonlight streamed upon the rich embroidery of
his gay attire, on the brilliants of his hat-band, buckles, and
silver-hilted rapier. Near him stood a stout and thickset old man in
green livery, having a massive crest and coronet worked on each
sleeve. A broad belt encircled his waist, and sustained a heavy
basket-hilted sword. He was a little intoxicated, and balancing
himself on one leg, snapped his fingers while chaunting the merry old
catch,--
"Though I go bare, take ye no care
I nothing am acolde;
I stuff my skinne so full within,
With jollie gude ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go colde;
But bellie, God give thee gude ale enough,
Whether it be newe or olde.
I love no roste, but a nut-brown toste----"
"God's curse, rascal!" said his master angrily, "in this mood you
will never arrange the matter satisfactorily."
"Trust me, my Lord, trust me," stammered Juden, rubbing his bald pate
with a sudden air of perplexity, which showed that the _matter_
referred to had quite escaped him; "but ane needs a lang spoon to sup
kail wi' the deil, and you are kittler than the great serpent himsel."
"Gadzooks! old limb of Beelzebub, thou art drunk already; but hear
me, Juden, if you fail in this service to-night, old though ye be, by
the Heaven that hears us, I will handle my whip in such wise that a
coffin will be your next resting place."
The eyes of the fierce Lord gleamed as he spoke, though his face was
pale with that white fury which is ever the index of a bad and bitter
heart, and is much more to be dreaded than the red flush of passion
that suffuses a generous brow.
"How many followers hath the dame of Bruntisfield in her train
to-night?"
"Four, my Lord--her chairmen."
"Armed, of course?"
"Like myself, ilk ane wi' a gude basket-hilted whinger. They are a'
in Lucky Tippeny's Changehouse outbye, birling the ale cogue like sae
many lords or troopers."
"All the better. Here is money--join them, and spare not to push the
jorum till they become like blind puppies; but, peril of thy life,
Juden, keep sober, though ale, usquebaugh, and even wine flow like
water, if the knaves will it. When Lady Grisel summons them, if they
are able to stand, by the head of the King I will truncheon thee in
famous fashion. Dost comprehend, jolt-head?"
"The upshot, my Lord, the upshot?"
"When Lady Bruntisfield's people are summoned--but who is with you
to-night?"
"The hail household--just Jock, my sister's son. Wha else would
there be?"
"The devil! that fellow is a born gomeral, like his uncle, and will
spoil all."
"Jock's gey gleg at the uptak', and mair kens-peckle than ye think.
My certie, my Lord, there are mair fules in the world than Jock, puir
man--fules that canna keep their fingers out of the fire."
"Silence, or I will certainly beat thee. When the Napiers' chairs
are summoned, you will immediately bear off that containing the young
lady Lilian, without the delay of a moment."
"No to Bruntisfield, I warrant!" rejoined Juden, with a bright leer
of intelligence.
"'Sdeath no--to the Place of Drumsheugh."
"Ha! ha! ha! My certie, gif this plot succeeds, there will be a braw
clamjamfray in the toun the morn! But I hope the business will be
owre in time to let me be at the tar-barrelling. 'Twill be a braw
sight. O that it were Lucky Elshender's! then I might ride up Meg,
puir beastie, to see hersel revenged for that weary fit o' the
wheez-lock----"
"Silence, addlepate. I go to Beatrix Gilruth. Wo to thee, if one
tittle of my injunctions be forgotten."
Juden bowed with a tipsy air of respect, and withdrew, while Lord
Clermistonlee rolled his furred rocquelaure about him, and, stepping
through the postern gate, issued into the Potter's Row, and hurried
away at a quick pace.
"Good even, my Lord," said Douglas, looking scornfully after him.
"If I mar not your precious plot to-night, may I never march more!"
He sprang up the stair, and, forgetful of the penance his playful
mistress had assigned him, sought an opportunity of communicating to
Lady Grisel or to Walter Fenton this new plot of Clermistonlee, but
none occurred. The former was too deeply engaged with General Dalyel
in the intricacies of ombre or primero, and the mode of impaling
among the Tartars, and the latter in the more delightful occupation
of squiring Lilian from room to room, or exchanging the hand-in-hand
mazes of the merry couranto for a moonlight promenade on the flowery
terraces of the garden.
Douglas became deeply anxious; the night wore apace, and the hour
rapidly approached when the guests would be departing, for already
had the roll of the ten o'clock drum rung through the thoroughfares
of the city, and these late balls and suppers were but a new
innovation of the time, an introduction by Mary of Modena.