_Anna Wenbourne St. Ives to Louisa Clifton_
_Chateau de Villebrun_
I know not, Louisa, how to begin! I have an accident to relate which
has alarmed me so much that I am half afraid it should equally alarm my
friend. Yet the danger is over, and her sensations cannot equal ours.
She can but imagine what they were. But it is so incredible, so mad, so
dreadful! Clifton is strangely rash!
He had been for some days dissatisfied, restless, and disturbed. I knew
not why, except that I had desired time for mutual consideration,
before I would permit him to speak to Sir Arthur. He has half terrified
me from ever permitting him to speak--But then he has more than
repaired all the wrong he had done. There is something truly
magnanimous in his temper, but it has taken a very erroneous bent. The
chief subject of my last was the distance which I observed between him
and Frank Henley. Little did I know the reason. But I will not
anticipate: only, remember, be not too much alarmed.
Frank was but one of the actors, though the true and indeed sole hero
of the scene I am going to relate. Indeed he is a wonderful, I had
almost said a divine youth! It took birth from the Count de Beaunoir.
In my last, I mentioned the strange defiance of the pistols and the
handkerchief: and would you think, Louisa, a conversation so frantic
could be renewed? It is true it shewed itself under a new though
scarcely a less horrible aspect.
We were yesterday walking in the park, in which there is a remarkable
lake, small but romantic. I before spoke I believe of our rowing on it
in boats. We were walking beside it on a steep rock, which continues
for a considerable length of way to form one of its banks. The Count
and Clifton were before: I, Frank Henley, and a party of ladies and
gentlemen were following at a little distance, but not near enough to
hear the conversation that was passing between your brother and the
Count.
It seems the latter had first begun once again to talk of times of
knight errantry, and of the feats which the _preux chevaliers_ had
performed for their ladies. The headlong Clifton, utterly despising the
pretended admiration of what he was persuaded the Count durst in no
manner imitate, after some sarcastic expressions of his contempt, madly
but seriously asked the Count if he durst jump off the rock into the
lake, to prove his own courage. Shew your soul, said he, if you have
any! Jump you first, said the Count--!
Imagine, Louisa, if you can, the shock I received when, not knowing
what had passed, but in an apparent fit of frenzy, I saw him
desperately rush to the side of the rock, and dash himself headlong
down into the water! It was at an angle, and we had a full view of him
falling!
Every soul I believe shrieked, except myself and perhaps Frank Henley.
Never had I so much need of the fortitude to which I have endeavoured
to habituate my mind.
The gentlemen all ran to the side of the rock.--They saw Clifton, after
rising to the surface, sink! He had jumped from a place where the
shelving of the rock, under water, by projecting had stunned him as he
fell.
Frank perceived the danger: he threw off his hat and coat, and ran to
another part, where the height was still more dreadful! Indeed, Louisa,
it excites horror to look at the place! But he seems to be superior to
fear. He plunged down what might well be called an abyss; and, after
rising for a few seconds to breathe, dived again in search of poor
Clifton.
He was twice obliged to rise and take breath. The third time he found
him, rose with him, turned him upon his own back, and swam with him a
very considerable distance before he could find a place shallow enough
to land.
To all appearance Clifton was lifeless! But the excellent, most
excellent when you shall hear all, the heroic Frank immediately applied
himself to the remainder of his office. He stayed not a moment to rest,
but lifted him a seeming corpse from the earth, threw him once more on
his back, and ran faster than any of us to the chateau, carried him up
stairs, undressed him himself, put him between the blankets, and gave
every necessary order with as much presence of mind as if there had
been neither accident nor danger. Wet as he was he lost not a thought
upon himself.
Never shall I forget the indefatigable assiduity with which he laboured
to restore your brother to life; the anxiety which he struggled to
conceal; the variety of means he employed; the ingenuity of his
conjectures and the humanity of every motion!
Two hours were I and he and all of us held in this dreadful suspense.
At last he was successful; and the relief I felt, the load that seemed
removed from my heart, it is impossible to describe!
When your brother was perfectly come to himself, Frank suffered him to
be bled. For it had been proposed before; but Frank, with a
determination that could not be withstood, refused to admit of it;
though he had been intreated, and at last openly and loudly blamed, by
the surgeon and those who believed in him, for his pertinacity. But
Frank was not to be shaken, even by the very serious fear of future
accusation. He followed, as he tells me, the opinion of John Hunter;
and well might he think it of more worth than that of the person who
pretended to advise. But it requires no common degree of resolution to
persist, in this manner, in the right; and wholly to despise calumny
and its consequences.
If you think, Louisa, that after this I can add nothing in praise of
Frank you are greatly mistaken; for what is to come raises his
character almost to an enviable dignity.
Could you imagine that this very Frank Henley, this undaunted,
determined, high-souled Frank, who had flung himself down the horrid
precipice after your brother, who had swum with him, run with him,
risked being supposed in some sort his murderer, and at last restored
him to life, had the very day before received from the hand of this
same brother--a blow!--If, Louisa, there be one being upon earth
capable of attaining virtues more than human, it is surely Frank
Henley!
Much praise however, as well as blame, is justly due to Clifton. I
never saw a heart more painfully wrung, by the sense of an injury
committed and of a good so unexampled received, as his has been. It was
he who told of his own behaviour. His total want of power to make
retribution is the theme by which he is pained and oppressed.
Frank, uniform in generosity, disclaims any superiority, and affirms
Clifton would have done the same, had he been in the same danger. I
think I would, answered Clifton, in a tone that shewed he felt what he
spoke: but I know myself too well to suppose I should have so
unremittingly persevered, like you, in the performance of an office of
humanity which seemed hopeless.
The distinction was just, disinterested, and worthy the discernment of
a mind like that of your brother.
Clifton says that, though he cannot think like Frank [We hope to make
him, Louisa.] yet he cannot but admire the magnanimity with which he
acts up to his principles, and proves his sincerity.
Oh, my friend! You can conceive all the terrors of the scene! So fine a
youth, so accomplished, so brave, the brother of my Louisa, brought to
Paris to meet an untimely death! I the cause of his coming thither! I
the innocent instigator of this last rash act! The eyes of all upon me!
The horror of suspense!--It was indeed a trial!
Yet who knows what accidents may occur in life? Who can sufficiently
cherish fortitude; and by anticipating defy misfortune? Violently as my
feelings were assaulted, there yet may be, there are, shocks more
violent, scenes more dreadful in the world. Nor is it impossible but
that such may be my lot. And if they were, I hope I still should bear
up against them all.
It is true I may not always have a Frank Henley to cherish and inspire
hope. His constant theme was--'He is not dead!' And I once heard him
murmuring to himself, with a kind of prophetic energy--'He shall not
die!'--It was this _shall not_ by which he was saved: for, with any
other creature upon earth, I am persuaded he had been gone for ever. Oh
this noble perseverance! It is indeed a godlike virtue!
The Count is less in spirits, less extravagant, since this accident. It
seems to hang upon his mind, as if he had been out-braved. His anxiety,
as might well be expected from such a temper, was excessive, while
Clifton was in danger: but he seems to repent now, that he did not
follow the mad example. _Parbleu! Madame, je suis Provençal; on dit que
j'ai la tête un peu chaude; mais Messieurs les Anglois vont diablement
vite aux épreuves! Mes compatriotes même ne sont pas si fous!--Je ne
suis pas content de moi--J'aurais du faire le saut--J'aurais sauvé la
vie à man rival! Voilà une belle occasion manquée, et beaucoup de
gloire à jamais perdue pour moi!_[1]
[Footnote 1: 'Sdeath! Madam, I am a native of Provence, and they tell
me I am a little crazy: but these Englishmen are in a confounded hurry
to come to the proof! My own countrymen are less lunatic!--I am not
satisfied with myself. I ought to have leaped after him: I should have
saved the life of my rival! It was losing a glorious opportunity; and I
have robbed myself of thus much fame for ever!]
My mind at present is not entirely tranquil. The recollection of a
temper so rash as Clifton's preys upon me. Yet, where there are
qualities so high, and powers so uncommon, shall I despair? Shall I
shrink from an act of duty? It is a task I have prescribed to myself.
Shall I witness the fortitude of Frank, and be myself so easily
discomfited? No, Louisa. Clifton shall be ours--_Shall be!_--Shall be
the brother of Louisa, the friend of Frank, and the better part of
Anna. Yes, I too will be determined! I like Frank will say 'He is not
dead! He shall not die!'