The moon was clear in the heaven, the skies in which she shone were of
that deep intense blue which no European land but Italy or Spain can
display; there was an effulgence in her light, which mingled the rays
with the deep blue woof of the night heavens so strongly, that the
stars themselves seemed vanquished in the strife for the empire of the
sky, and looked out but faint and feeble.
In a small arbour covered with vines, on the bank of the stream, sat
the lady Julia and her lover. The bright rays of the orb of night
floated lightly on the water, changing the dark flowing mass into
liquid silver, while a hazy light poured through the olive, the fig,
and the vine, giving a faint mysterious aspect to the innumerable
trees, and enlivening various spots upon the dull, cold, gray earth,
with the yellow radiance of the queen of night.
I believe it is as fruitless as difficult to try to analyse the
feelings of the human heart, when that heart is strongly moved by the
impulses implanted in it by nature, called into activity by accidental
and concurring circumstances. That nature has laid down a rule, and
that the heart always acts upon it with more or less energy, according
to its original powers, I do strongly believe; but it seems to me
fruitless, or at all events but little beneficial, to investigate why
certain bosoms, especially those of southern climates, are moved by
more warm and eager feelings than others. The operation of man's mind
and of his heart are as yet mysteries; and no one who has ever written
upon the subject has done more than take the facts as they found them,
without at all approaching the causes. We talk of eager love; we speak
of the warm blood of the south; we name certain classes of our
fellow-beings, excitable, and others, phlegmatic; but we ourselves
little understand what we mean when we apply such terms, and never try
to dive into the sources of the qualities or the emotions we indicate.
We ask not how much is due to education, how much to nature; and never
think of the immense sum of co-operating causes which go to form that
which is in reality education. Is man or woman merely educated by the
lessons of a master, or the instructions and exhortations of a parent?
Are not the acts we witness, the words we hear, the scenes with which
we are familiar, parts of our education? Is not the Swiss or the
Highlander of every land educated in part by his mountains, his
valleys, his lakes, his torrents? Is not the inhabitant of cities
subjected to certain permanent impressions by the constant presence of
crowds and the everlasting pressure of his fellow-men? Does not the
burning sun, the arid desert, the hot blast, teach lessons never
forgotten, and which become part of nature to one class of men; and
frozen plains, and lengthened winters, and long nights, other lessons
to the natives of a different region? Give man what instruction you
will, by spoken words or written signs, there is another education
going on for ever, not only for individuals, but for nations, in the
works of God around them, and in the circumstances with which his will
has encompassed their destiny.
Perhaps no two people upon earth had ever been educated more
differently than the two who sat together in that garden, and yet,
strange to say, in the character of each had been produced traits
which, while they left a strong distinction, disposed to the most
perfect harmony. Gowrie, born amidst rich and wild scenery, had passed
his earliest days in troublous and perilous events. Constant activity,
manly exercises, dangerous sports, and wild adventures, had been
alternated with calm study; and acting on a mind of an inquiring and
philosophic turn, and a frame naturally robust, had increased and
early matured the powers of each. Thus had passed his days to the age
of seventeen, and then a perfect change had taken place in his course
of life. Removed to Padua, he had devoted himself for some years
solely to the cultivation of his understanding; and had followed
eagerly, and with extraordinary success, inquiries not alone into the
lore of ancient days, but into those physical sciences which were then
known but to a few, and often perilous to the possessor. Love had come
at length to complete the education of the heart, just when the
education of body and mind was accomplished.
Julia, on the contrary, had been snatched, at a period beyond her
memory, from the dangers and difficulties which had surrounded her
infancy. She had passed the whole period of early youth in calm and
quiet studies, directed to unite every grace and accomplishment with
strength of mind and firmness of principle. No tender, no gentle
affection had been crushed; her spirit had been embittered by no
harshness; her heart had been injured by no disappointment; no
rankling memory of any kind was in her bosom, and her affections had
been cultivated as well as her understanding. Bright and cheerful,
deep-feeling, and true by nature, a sense of duty had been given her
as a guide and not a tyrant; and her attachments and her enjoyments,
limited to a very small sphere, had gained intensity from their
concentration upon few objects.
And there they now sat, side by side, with her hand locked in his,
telling and hearing the tale of the first great griefs which she had
ever known. Youth forms but a faint idea of mortality till the dark
proofs are placed tangibly before its eyes. We know that those we love
must die; but hope still removes the period, and draws a veil over the
terrors of death. She had sometimes sat and thought of it--especially
when her old relation had pointed out that the great enemy of the
mortal frame was approaching more and more closely to himself--but she
had never been able to realize the grim features as they appeared to
her now, when she had seen them near; and now, when she spoke of the
loss of him in whom, for so many years, all her feelings and her
thoughts had centered, she leaned her head upon Gowrie's shoulder, and
the tears flowed fast.
It was natural--it was very natural that she should cling with but the
stronger affection to him who now sat beside her. The first strong
love of woman's heart had been given to him, and that is intense and
absorbing enough; but he was now the only one; there was no partition
of affection with any other being in the world; neither brothers nor
sisters, nor parents nor friends, shared her thoughts or divided her
attachment. The cup of love was full to the brim. Not one drop had
been spilt; and it was all his own.
Nor were his feelings less intense towards her, though different; for
man's part is ever different in the great moving passion of youth. To
protect, to defend, to befriend, is his allotted portion of the
compact between man and woman; and to feel that he was all in all to
her, that she had none to look to but him, that then and for ever her
fate rested on his power and his will, that his arm must be her stay,
his spirit her guide, his love her consolation, rendered the deep
passion which her beauty, her grace, her gentleness first kindled, but
the more warm and ardent. It was pure, and high, and noble, too. He
forgot not at that moment the promises which Manucci had exacted from
him. He proposed not to himself or her to break them. He told her all
that had passed; and though he expressed regret that such delay must
interpose before he could call her his own, and showed how much
easier, safer, and happier their course would be, if she could at once
give him her hand at the altar, yet he expressed no desire at that
time to deviate from the conduct pointed out. Pledged to follow it, it
seemed to him but as a road traced on a map, which, though circuitous,
would lead in the end to happiness, and from which they could not turn
aside without losing their way entirely. It was only how they could
best tread that path that they considered; and there, indeed, much was
to be thought of and provided for. The first object was to place the
fair girl in safety; for although a sad smile came upon her
countenance at the absurdity of the accusation, when she spoke of the
suspicions entertained against her, yet those were days when innocence
was no safeguard, and the unreasonableness of a charge was no
security. The only course to be followed seemed that which had been
pointed out by the boatman, Mantini--namely, to ascend the river as
rapidly as possible, without venturing into the Venetian territory,
and then to pass straight through Piedmont and France, to England.
"We shall have time enough, as we go, dear girl," said the young earl,
"to examine the papers which your grandfather gave me, and to judge
what our course must be when we reach Scotland. The first thing to be
thought of, however, is security, and therefore we had better set out
by daybreak. Doubtless, my good man Austin can procure a couple of
horses before that time, and if not, two of those which bear the
baggage must carry a saddle, and the packages follow by some other
conveyance."
"I will be ready when you bid me," replied Julia, "and do what you bid
me, Gowrie; but there was one injunction which he whom I have lost,
laid upon me, when he told me to accompany you to Scotland. He bade me
engage some women to go with me as servants, saying that it might seem
strange if I journeyed with you all alone.--I know not why it should
seem strange," she continued, raising her eyes to his face; "for whom
have I to trust in but you? and who, but you, has any right to protect
and guide me?"
Gowrie smiled, and kissed the fair small hand he held in his; but he
answered at once, "He was very right, dear Julia. It _would_ seem
strange; and men might make comments more painful even to me than to
you. The harsh, hard world neither sees, nor tries to see, men's
hearts; but wherever there is the opportunity of evil, supposes that
evil exists. Our poor friend was right; maids you shall have to go
with you; but it is impossible to engage them here: nor, indeed, would
it be prudent to attempt it. At Mantua, or Piacenza, we shall be more
free to act; and in the meantime I will tell good old Mr. Rhind of the
exact situation in which we are placed, to prevent him from coming to
any wrong conclusions--I mean the gentleman who sat next Sir John Hume
at supper; he was formerly my tutor, and will return with us to
England."
"Oh, yes; tell him--tell him," replied the lady, eagerly. "He gazed at
me often during the meal, and I felt the colour coming to my cheek, I
knew not why. It seemed as if he doubted me, and did not like my
presence with you."
"Nay, it is not exactly so," replied her lover. "He is a good and
gentle-minded man, only somewhat too much a slave to the world's
opinion. As soon, however, as he knows all, he will be quite
satisfied, and aid us to the best of his power. And now, dear Julia,
seek your rest; for you will have but little time to repose; and we
must make quick journeys and long ones till danger is left behind."
The earl did not calculate altogether rightly upon Mr. Rhind's ready
acquiescence. Whether it was that he had been suddenly awakened in the
midst of his sleep by the landlord lighting the tapers in the eating
hall, or whether it was that the portion of wine he had taken, though
not sufficient to affect his intellect, had been enough to affect his
temper, I cannot tell; but certain it is, that he assumed a tone with
his former pupil which roused some feelings of anger.
"I wish to speak with you, my lord," he said, as soon as Lord Gowrie
entered the room alone.
"And I with you, my dear sir," answered the young earl. "What is it
you desire to say?"
"Why, there is something very strange here, my lord," said the other,
while Gowrie seated himself. "You are suddenly and unexpectedly, as it
seems, joined by a young woman of very great beauty, with whom you are
evidently very well and intimately acquainted, but whom I have never
seen or heard of before. Now, my dear lord, neither my character nor
my principles will permit me----"
"Stop one moment," said the earl, interrupting him. "I wish to guard
against your saying anything that may be offensive to me, and which
you would yourself regret hereafter. Already you have used the term
'young woman,' when you should have said 'young lady,' for her
manners, as well as her appearance, should have taught you what her
station is. However, as I came here to explain to you my own position
and hers, I may as well go on, and save you needless questions. She is
a lady of birth equal to my own, with whom, as you say, I am well
acquainted, and have been so long. She is plighted to me to be my
bride; and but for the loss of her nearest, and indeed only kinsman in
this country, I should have gone on to find and claim her at Padua,
and would there have introduced you to her under more favourable
circumstances."
He paused in thought for a moment, doubtful as to whether he should
tell Mr. Rhind the absurd suspicions under which her whom he loved had
fallen; for he knew his good tutor well, and did not believe that
those suspicions would appear so ridiculous in the eyes of his
companion as they were in his own.
Mr. Rhind, however, instantly took advantage of his silence to reply.
"What you tell me, my lord, alarms me more than ever. What will your
lady mother--what will all your friends and relations think of your
marrying a strange Italian--a runaway, as it seems, from her home and
her family, a follower, of course, of Popish superstitions and
idolatries, a worshipper of the beast, a disciple of the antiChrist of
Rome? I must desire and insist----"
"You will insist upon nothing with me, Mr. Rhind," replied Gowrie, in
a low, but somewhat stern tone. "Pray do not forget yourself; but
remember that your authority over my actions has long ceased to
exist--had, indeed, ceased before I made this lady's acquaintance. Old
friendship, respect for your virtues, and personal affection, may
induce me to condescend so far as to give you explanations of my
conduct and my purposes; but it must be upon the condition that you
lay aside that tone altogether."
Mr. Rhind found that he had gone a little too far; but yet he did not
choose altogether to abandon his purpose, and he replied, "Well, my
lord, my part can very soon be taken. It is true, as you say, that you
are your own master; but still I have a duty to you and to your family
to perform, which I must and will fulfil, and, having done so, we can
then part upon our several ways if you think fit. That duty is to
represent to you the consequences of a course----"
"Of which you know nothing," answered the earl, "being utterly and
entirely ignorant of the whole facts, and assuming a number of
positions, every one of which is false. Your logic and your prudence
have both failed you, my good sir; and as you still speak in a tone I
dislike, I think it will be much better to drop a discussion which
seems only likely to end in a diminution of both my respect and my
friendship."
"You are very hard upon me, my lord," replied Mr. Rhind. "I am not
conscious of having deserved such treatment, and all I can say is, if
I have done so, I am ready to make any atonement in my power, as soon
as you show me that such is the case."
"That I can show you instantly," answered Lord Gowrie; "for I am sorry
to say that you have undoubtedly erred in every one of your
conclusions, and should have known me better than to suppose that I
would act in a manner derogatory to my character, to my station, and
to the faith in which I have been brought up."
"The passions of young men," said Mr. Rhind, gravely, "will often lead
them to act contrary even to their own judgment."
"I might reply to that observation somewhat severely," said the earl,
conquering a strong inclination to retaliate; "but I will not do so,
and will merely show you, how you have suffered prejudice to warp your
own judgment. You have said the lady is an Italian. On the contrary,
she is my own countrywoman, the daughter of a house as noble as my
own. You have said that she is a papist, a worshipper of the beast, a
follower of the antichrist of Rome. These are harsh words, sir; and
they are all false. She is a protestant. Her father was a protestant,
her mother, her grandfather. As to the latter, by whom she was
educated, he was driven from his native country on account of his
testimony against the superstitious vanities of that very church of
Rome--do not interrupt me.--You have said that she is a runaway from
her family and friends. There you are as much in error as in all the
rest. She has fled to me, on the death of her only surviving relation
in this country, to escape persecution; and one of the principal
charges upon which that persecution is founded, is that she could
never be brought to attend upon the superstitious observance of
confession, or ask absolution at the hands of a mortal like herself.
And now, my good sir, having heard the facts, let me tell you my
intentions. I have undertaken to escort this young lady back to her
native country of Scotland; to claim for her, and if possible to
restore to her the estates of which she has been unjustly deprived;
and I have promised to make her my wife at the end of about twelve
months from this time. All this I will perform to the letter. Nay
more, I should conceive it a duty, in the situation in which she is
placed, to urge her at once to give me her hand, had I not bound
myself solemnly to refrain till the period I have mentioned is past.
This promise I will also keep, though in keeping it I render the rest
of the task I have undertaken more delicate and difficult; but of
course I shall consider it a duty to take every means in my power, by
all tokens of outward reverence and respect, to shield her, not only
from reproach but from suspicion, while travelling under my protection
to her native land. You may aid me to do so if you will, and in so
doing, I believe you will be performing a Christian act; but still, if
after what I have said you entertain any hesitation, I do not press
you to do so, and leave you to act perfectly as you think fit."
Mr. Rhind had bent down his head, feeling, with a good deal of
bitterness, that he had placed himself greatly in the wrong; and that
although he might still entertain great objections to the course which
the young earl was determined to pursue, and be anxious to urge upon
him considerations to which he attached great importance, his
arguments would seem weak and without force, after the injustice of
his first conclusions had been so completely proved. There was a
little struggle in his breast between mortified vanity and the
consciousness of having shown himself rash and prejudiced; but various
prudential considerations arrayed themselves on the side of humility,
and he answered, in a low and deprecatory tone, "I grieve most
sincerely that I have done the young lady wrong; and I rejoice most
sincerely, my lord, to find that whatever other objections may exist,
your affections have been fixed upon one so sincerely attached to the
protestant faith. My only apprehension now is, as to what your lady
mother may think of such an engagement entered into without her
knowledge and consent."
"Leave me to deal with my mother, my dear sir," replied the earl; "I
know her better than you do, and entertain no fear of the result. She
is far too wise a woman to assume authority where she possesses none,
but that which affection and reverence give her. Nay, more, she is too
kind and too noble not to approve of what I have done and what I
intend to do, when she finds that no reasonable objection stands in
the way of my affection, and that the object of my love is in herself
worthy of it. Do I understand you right that it is your purpose to
bear me company as heretofore, and to assist me in escorting this
young lady to her own land with decency and propriety?"
"Most assuredly, my dear lord," replied Mr. Rhind, "if you will accept
my services; and I do hope and trust that you will not mention to the
young lady the prejudices I somewhat rashly entertained, for it might
lose me her favour, and make her look upon me as an enemy instead of a
friend."
Lord Gowrie smiled, and gave him his hand, saying, "Make your mind
quite easy on that score. I will make no mischief, my dear sir. And
now we had better all perhaps seek repose, as it will be needful for
us to set off by daylight to-morrow, and to alter our whole course,
taking the way towards Piacenza, as I dare not cross any part of the
Venetian territory, lest my beautiful Julia should fall into the hands
of the hateful Inquisition."
"God forbid!" exclaimed Mr. Rhind, to whom the Inquisition was an
object of the utmost terror and abhorrence. "If she run such risks for
conscience sake, well may the dear lady merit the love and reverence
of all good men."
The treaty of peace thus concluded, the earl and his former tutor
parted for the night; and Gowrie proceeded to inquire what had become
of Hume, and to ascertain the result of Austin Jute's efforts to
procure horses for their journey of the following day.