ANNABELLE ERROLL.
Now Leslie Fotheringhame, though disposed at first to be somewhat
reticent on the subject of his previous intimacy with Annabelle
Erroll, after a time confided their mutual story to Cecil Falconer.
Thrown together as he and the latter were, in that lonely and
isolated fort, the whole garrison of which, besides their own
detachment, consisted only of a master gunner and a few old
pensioners, it was natural that they should have their mutual
confidences over their after-dinner cigars, and thus Falconer heard
all about it from Fotheringhame.
'You see, old fellow, it came to pass in this way.
'My troop of Lancers was quartered in Perth Barracks, while the
head-quarters were stationed at Piershill. I soon tired of all the
little gaieties afforded by the Fair City; but the season was summer,
and the Tay afforded me endless amusement for fly-fishing and
boating; and, as one of my subs was on leave and the other on the
sick-list, I was somewhat thrown on my own resources.
'I had a swift light shallop, in which I used to pull daily, when the
tide or stream served, from the bridge upward past the wooded slopes
of Kinnoull, and away for miles amid the loveliest and most luxuriant
sylvan scenery in the world.
'One day the heat was very great, and, ceasing to row, I lay back in
the stern-sheets of my boat, with a cigar between my lips, and let
her float, lazily, on the current of the stream, which flowed between
its wooded banks deeply, silently, and majestically. On every hand
around me were a long series of varied hills covered with picturesque
foliage of every shade of green, the vista everywhere terminated by
the more remote mountains, the rich tints of which were softened in
the blue haze and by the distance.
'At a bend of the river my boat partially grounded, but I felt too
lazy to shove off, and lay there under the shadows cast upon the
bright stream by the overreaching elms, oaks, and silver birches,
among the blended foliage of which the blue doves were cooing, and
where the wild violets and jasmine grew close to the water's-edge.
On all the river I thought there could be no lovelier spot than this.
Save the stillness of its flow, and the hum of the mountain honey-bee
among the wild flowers of the wood, in and out of the gueldre-roses
and foxglove-bells, there was no sound in the air, as I lay there in
a kind of daydream, with my arms resting idly on my sculls, till the
voice of a girl, singing close by, roused me at once to attention.
'Sweetly she sung, and seemed to give her whole soul and pathos to
the song. She thought no ear save her own was within hearing; but
for a time the singer remained unseen by me.
'"'Love me always--love me ever,'
Said a voice low, sad, and sweet;
'Love me always--love me ever,'
Memory will the words repeat."
'And in truth, Falconer, I give them by an effort of memory now, it
is so long since I heard and read them:
'"While in fancy still beside me,
Is her fair and graceful form;
And I hear the murmured love-words,
Gushing from her heart so warm."
'"From her heart, subdued by sorrow,
In its fond and trusting youth,
Till she trembles lest the morrow
Rob some idol of its--truth?"
'A slight impetus which I gave my boat with one of the sculls,
brought me quite suddenly to the very feet of the singer, as she
stood on the edge of the stream, embowered among foliage, and shaded
by the light aspen-like sprays of the silver birches, regarding me
with some surprise, for my boating costume, I dare say, was novel in
that quarter, and seeming irresolute as to whether she should
retire--any way, advance she could not.
'I saw at a glance that the girl was just at that age which is
between childhood and maidenhood, that she was perfectly lady-like,
delicate in form and figure, and possessed of rare beauty of the
fairest, or blonde type; her hair of the lightest brown, and shot
with gold that made it brilliant in the flakes of sunlight that
flashed between the trees; her eyes, of dark-grey blue, had brows and
lashes so dark as to impart great character to her otherwise soft and
_mignonne_ face; but you know well who I am describing.
'She had a bunch of wild-flowers in one hand; the other grasped the
ribbons of her tiny hat, which she was swinging to and fro, as she
had come through the wood bareheaded, and was evidently not far from
her home.
'"Pardon me," said I, lifting my cap, "but I am afraid that I am
rather a trespasser here."
'"Not at all, sir; the river is free to everyone."
'"But I have been almost ashore, and is not that presuming too far?"
I asked again, only for the pleasure of conversing with her.
'"Oh no," she replied, with a charming smile.
'"But I have disturbed you, I fear."
'"How?"
'"I heard you singing--need I say, how sweetly!"
'"An old song, quoted from some old book, but the melody far
surpasses the words."
'"Yes, as sung by your voice," said I, gallantly.
'"What a pretty boat yours is! Have you rowed far?"
'"All the way from the bridge."
'"You must be weary, otherwise I would ask you----"
'She blushed and paused.
'"I am not at all weary, and am every way at your service."
'"Oh, thanks; will you row to the other side, and bring me some of
the lovely--"
'She mentioned some peculiar kind of fern.
'"Permit me to row you across, and you can select them for yourself."
'Her eyes sparkled with pleasure, but she hesitated.
'"You mistrust a stranger," said I; "and perhaps your papa might be
displeased--"
'"Poor papa is dead; but mamma would, I know, be angry. She is full
of strict and strange notions; thus I can never venture far alone."
'"But the distance is so short--"
'"And she is always busy at this hour."
'"Come, then."
'She confidingly put her little hand in mine, sprang with charming
grace lightly into the cushioned seat astern, and exclaimed with
girlish delight:
'"What a lovely boat! How delicious this is! Though we live only a
mile from the Tay, I have never had a row on it."
'"Permit me to give you a little one now," said I, assuming my
sculls, and shot the boat out into mid-stream. I regarded her beauty
with growing admiration and pleasure; but my Lancer experiences
caused the thought to occur, could she be so innocent, so utterly
guileless as she seemed?
'Some ferns were speedily selected, and uprooted by my knife, also
some magnificent water-lilies from a pool under the trees; and, as
she seemed thoroughly to enjoy herself upon the sunlit river, I
pulled her to and fro, near the silver birches where I first met her,
and she chatted away to me as if she had known me for months. That
she was a lady in birth and breeding was indisputable; her accent was
highly cultivated and her manners refined, and everything about the
girl betokened gentle blood; but there was an artlessness combined
with girlish abandon about her, that made me curiously and
uncharitably suspicious, while deeply and suddenly interested in her.
Thus I said, after a pause, while letting the boat drift with the
current, and keeping the blades of my sculls just out of the water:
'"You do me great honour, and must have singular confidence in me, a
stranger, that you trust yourself with me thus."
'"How we glide!" exclaimed the girl, with childish glee. "Oh, I
could sail here for ever!"
'"What would mamma think, if she knew it?"
'"Being with you?"
'"Yes."
'"I scarcely know what she would think; but I know what she would
_do_," was the reply.
'"Admonish you?"
'"Yes; and lock me up for days to come. But I can see, of course,
that you are a gentleman."
'"Thanks for the compliment."
'"But it is difficult to say what else; your costume is so unlike
anyone we see hereabout."
'I wore simply a rowing suit of white flannel, trimmed and faced with
blue, with a skull-cap to match.
'"I am a Lancer," said I.
'"A Lancer!" she repeated, while her blue eyes dilated.
'"Yes; I command the troop in Perth Barracks."
'I could see that the information pleased her, for her colour rose
and she looked aside; and again I pondered as to whether she was the
hoyden by nature I suspected.
'"I must return home now," she said suddenly, as if she read my
thoughts in my face.
'"So soon?" I urged, pleadingly.
'"Yes; and thanks, so much, for your row--it has been delightful."
'"I shall be so glad to row you further next time."
'"You talk as if you expected to see me again--as if it were quite a
matter of course."
'"I can only hope to do so," said I, handing her ashore and retaining
her little, ungloved hand, lingeringly in mine; "but I row past here
every day, _at the same hour_."
'"Good-bye," said she, about to turn away.
'"May I ask your name?" said I, cap in hand.
'"Annabelle Erroll."
'"Why do you start so?" she asked laughingly, and, tripping up the
bank, vanished among the white stems of the silver birches, leaving
her ferns in the boat behind her.
'Start! Well might I do so; for I now discovered that she was my
cousin, the daughter of a widowed maternal Aunt Annabelle, with whom
my parents had ever been at enmity, about some money quarrel, with
her husband, Colonel Erroll--an aunt whom I had never met, and of
whose existence I had but a vague idea.
'My cousin she was, and proud, greedy old Uncle Erroll's daughter! I
would rather not have heard this; for the girl's rare beauty
attracted me powerfully on one hand, while the transmitted stories of
the family feud--stories which in boyhood made me regard the colonel
and his wife as an ogre and ogress--on the other, had a fatal effect
upon me.
'That her mother yet kept up the feud, was evident from the
circumstance that she had never mentioned to Annabelle the fact,
which she must have known, that I commanded the Lancers at the
barrack within a few miles of their own house. Yet to have done so
would have served no end; though I thought not of that.
'Would the young girl understand, or accept, my _hint_?
'When, on the following day, I betook me to the bend of the river in
my boat, she was not there. I waited long, and reluctantly pulled
away with a certain emotion of pique. But, on the _next_ day again,
at the same hour, I saw her light skirt flitting among the silver
birches, and at once crept inshore. I had cut some fresh fern roots
for her, in place of those she had forgotten.
'"Ah, how thoughtful and kind of you," she exclaimed, as she gave me
her hand, and allowed me to lead her on board, quite as a matter of
course.
'"You will have a little row to-day?" said I.
'"A very tiny one it must be, then; I am so afraid of mamma," she
replied; and in another minute we were skimming over the silvery
water.
'"Have you mentioned to your mamma your meeting with me?" I inquired.
'"With you--a stranger? Oh, I dare not, Captain Fotheringhame."
'"You know my name, then!"
'"I saw in a newspaper, by the merest chance, that you were a guest
of Lord Rothiemay's."
'For certain cogent reasons of my own, I could not help colouring
like a great schoolboy at this peer's name, as I had been involved in
something closer than a mere flirtation with a daughter of his; but
in the present instance, while feeling already inclined to be rather
cousinly, I resolved to remain incog. as long as I could. I knew
that she would not mention my name at home, and so resolved to
abandon myself to the perilous charm of her society during the
absence of the Rothiemays in London. I admit freely that I was
wrong, selfish in this, and severely was I punished in the end.
'This second day on the river was succeeded by many others, during
which I gave myself completely up to the fascination of my new
companion, who was so bright, quaint, and _spirituelle_, and full of
enthusiasm for music, flowers, scenery, and everything, that she was
unlike any other girl I had ever met--more than all, most unlike in
style of beauty and manner the stately and patrician daughter of
Rothiemay.
The boat, in the blaze of the sunshine, was drifting with the
current; my sculls in the rowlocks rested on my knees; my cigar, the
place and time, disposed me for luxurious reverie; and opposite me
sat this beautiful girl, her hat beside her, her golden hair and fair
face shaded by her parasol, while she sang in a low voice her song,
"Love me always--love me ever," her eyes fixed dreamily on the wooded
shore the while.
'"Annabelle," said I, softly.
'"Who gave you leave to call me by that name?" she asked, pouting.
'"Is it not your name?"
'"Yes, Captain Fotheringhame."
'"And a very pretty one; yet not even pretty enough for you. Why may
I not call you by it?"
'"It sounds odd on your lips--already."
'"But not unpleasant, I hope?"
'She laughed, but became silent, and glanced at me shyly under her
long lashes--shyly, and yet at times I thought half invitingly, half
defiantly, too. Was the girl acting or not? I felt inclined to love
her one moment, and simply and selfishly to amuse myself with her the
next, heedless, perhaps, of whether the poor girl might learn to love
me or not.
'I was a young fellow then, Falconer--save in experience, I am not an
old fellow yet--but she was younger still, a very girl, on the
borders between childhood and womanhood, the "sweet seventeen" of the
inevitable love story. I was playing with fire, and so was she; and
in teaching her to love me, I forgot all about an entanglement
elsewhere, and gave myself up to the romance and intoxication of the
time and the episode. So we met and dreamed on day by day, and she
was so brilliantly happy that her soft face at times seemed to be
singularly brightened by the very gladness of her heart; for it seems
so natural for a young girl to mingle something of idolatry with her
first love.
'It did occur to me that our love--hers, at least--was somewhat of
the rash and romantic Romeo and Juliet, passionate and unreasoning
kind; while she was as young and innocent as I was exacting, and even
suspicious that she was perfectly artless. I pondered over the words
of Shakespeare: "Love sought is good; but given unsought is better;"
and I was cynic, casuist, and egotist enough to doubt this.
'When I kissed her, it seemed each time as if all my soul went out to
her with that kiss; and yet--what idiosyncrasy of the heart was it
that made me wish to have that kiss recalled!
'"I seem to have no wish or desire in the world ungratified," she
whispered to me, as she nestled her head on my shoulder, while the
boat drifted with the current under the tremulous shade of the silver
birches, and the Tay rippled placidly past them.
'"You are so happy, Annabelle?"
'"I never thought to be so happy as I am now, Leslie; I could even
die with your arms round me! But--but are you satisfied to have such
an ignorant little girl for your wife?"
'_Wife_! I had not proposed yet; and the word roused me to a selfish
consciousness of the rashness of the whole affair, and so instead of
replying I gave her a tender caress, and said:
'"You are too good for me, Annabelle!"
'"I can scarcely believe it--you so handsome, so rich--a captain of
Lancers, and all that! Oh, Leslie, God forbid you should ever cease
to love me less than you do!"
'This crisis in my river-cruising roused me to think of what I was
about; and still more was I roused when at the barracks I found a
letter from Lord Rothiemay awaiting me with an invitation to spend a
few days at his place. But to leave my troop then was impossible,
thus I wrote thanking his lordship, and proposing simply to gallop
over on an evening named to dinner, and as I despatched the missive,
the face and figure of his daughter Blanche came reproachfully before
me.
'I have already referred to an entanglement--it was simply that,
though no promise had been given, I deemed myself all but engaged to
Blanche Gordon, who, some months before this time had enchanted and
spell-bound me. She was, indeed, a beautiful girl, and is a
beautiful woman now, tall, slender, and graceful--a finished creature
in every way, and wielding every natural and acquired accomplishment
with consummate and yet unapparent art.
'She had given me every reason to believe that the passion with which
she had inspired me was reciprocated, and we had only parted with the
mutual hope, apparently, of meeting again; hence there seemed an
absolute necessity for breaking off my philandering on the river. It
is said that a man cannot love two women at once; and yet my heart
ached for Annabelle and the grief that was before her.
'By some sophistry I nursed myself into the idea that I, rather than
she, was the victim of circumstances; and as I went to the
trysting-place for the last time I muttered:
'"'Handsome, rich, and a Lancer,'" she said. "Yes--yes, by Jove! she
is not so deuced artless, after all; and the very proposal she made
to me was in itself unwomanly."
'_Unwomanly_! I actually had the cruelty to tell her so; and never
shall I forget the look of incredulity, grief, dismay, and horror
that appeared by turns, and then all blended together, in her
beautiful face when I did so; and, already repenting what I had said
so capriciously, I would have retracted my words if it were possible
to do so.
'The phrase went through her loving heart like a bolt of ice, though
she seemed to hear it indistinctly.
'"Oh, Leslie!" she gasped, in an accent of desolation such as human
lips can utter but once in a lifetime, while her hands became cold
and her face grew livid. She bit her lips till the blood came, and
clasped her white hands until a ring I had given her marked her
tender fingers; and then remembering it, she tore it off, cast it at
my feet, and after giving me one long glance of anguish and reproval,
tottered away home; and I, my heart burning with shame, shot my
shallop out into the stream, and pulled away from the spot like a
madman!
'"She is young, poor girl, and will get over it," thought I; while to
nerve myself I conjured up the presence of Blanche Gordon in all her
imperial beauty, while, ingrate that I was! she that I had just left
possessed and showed all the qualities that win love--and that love
had, upon a mere pretence, been coldly and abruptly thrust back upon
her heart.
'The black "morrow" of her prophetic song had come indeed, and an
idol had been robbed of its truth.
'She was helpless to avenge herself, suffering and so beautiful; so I
prayed that God might strengthen her, until some other love consoled
her for the loss of mine: and even the thought of that stung me.
'"Yes, yes," thought I, "if so ready to love me, she will with equal
facility learn to love another."
'There was no jealousy in the heart of Annabelle, for she knew
nothing of any rival; but she was tormented by a sensation of
loneliness and utter desolation by day and night, and disappointment
was not the least element of that torment. But her time of vengeance
was at hand.
'Next day saw me at Rothiemay, and at the feet, if I may say so, of
Blanche Gordon, who received me with one of her usual bewitching
smiles. My proposal certainly pleased and agitated her, but she told
me with considerable confidence and coolness that she was engaged to
another, and, indeed, was to be married in three weeks!
'The hollow damsel of fashion had thrown me over for a well-gilded
coronet, just as I had thrown over--but coarsely and
suspiciously--the girl who only loved me better than I deserved, and
whose sweet society I now missed fearfully.
'But I was justly punished, you will say; yet the story does not end
here.
'Some weeks after, when family misfortunes came upon me, and I was
compelled to sell out--to leave the Lancers--impelled I know not by
what emotion or motive, unless it were something like force of habit
and a restless craving, I roamed towards the old trysting-place,
beneath the silver birches.
'Things of love and joy seldom repeat themselves, but my heart leaped
on seeing Annabelle seated on the bank of the stream, half hidden by
the wild rose-trees. Thither, no doubt, to torment her own heart,
she had perhaps been in the habit of repairing to dream over the love
that would never come again. She seemed lost in thought, and neither
saw nor heard my approach; and I saw the sunlight flashing on the
bright, soft, golden hair, amid which my fingers had so often strayed.
'"Annabelle!" said I softly; and she sprang up with a nervous start.
"You see I am here again, to crave your pardon and to thank God that
life has yet something worth living for--your love, Annabelle!"
'"And yours?" she said disdainfully; then her fortitude gave way, and
for a moment she hid her burning face and her hot tears in her white
and wasted hands, which, when I attempted to take them, repelled mine.
'"I will try to atone for the past, Annabelle--forgive me," said I,
humbly.
'"I do forgive you," she replied with sudden calmness, grace, and a
bearing of dignity I had never before seen in her; "but you can never
be to me what you have been. You were the very idol of my heart, and
with all my soul I worshipped you, Leslie; but that is ended now and
for ever."
'"If a life of devotion, Annabelle----"
'"Say no more--I will not listen."
'"You decline my love, because ruin has come upon me at the hands of
others, and I am compelled to leave the Lancers?"
'Her eyes flashed, yet not with anger, and her bosom heaved, as she
replied:
'"I grieve for what you say; and God knows it is not so--but for the
manner in which you reproached me with unwomanly conduct, that roused
my proper pride. I did love you tenderly, purely, passionately,
then; but in repelling you, my conduct at least is womanly now!
Farewell then, for ever; we leave this place to-morrow."
'"For where?"
'"That can be a matter of no interest to you, Captain Fotheringhame,"
she replied, turning to retire.
'"Do not let us part thus, Annabelle. It is for your sake as much as
my own that I sue thus."
'She crested up her little head haughtily.
'"Believe in my love," I urged.
'"I neither believe in it, nor want it--now at least."
'"How pitiless you are!" I exclaimed.
'"Just as you were; so to part is best for us both. I once dreamt of
being only too happy; I am sadly awake now."
'Our eyes met for the last time: the expression of hers was
passionless and decided. I had nothing to hope from her; but I
sighed deeply, with sorrow, pique, and even jealousy, as I watched
her departing steps and saw the last flutter of her skirt between the
stems of the silver birches, and then pulled slowly away from the
trysting-place, never to seek it again!
'I can remember yet how the woods and lawns along the river's bank
looked dreamily indistinct in the evening haze, as I pulled slowly
and sadly homeward.
'Never since, till you spoke of her, have I heard aught of Annabelle
Erroll, but I have since had reason to believe that she heard, in
time, of my affair with Blanche Gordon.'
So all this story of Leslie Fotheringhame's was the secret so
skilfully concealed under the calm exterior of the beautiful blonde
whom Cecil Falconer had met at Eaglescraig.