WHAT HAPPENED THERE.
The darkness of the sky and the denseness of the interwoven foliage
overhead, made our whereabouts so obscure, that our horses stumbled
at every step, till dismounting, I led them by the bridle. There was
a strange stillness in the air; the rain fell in large warm drops
which plashed heavily on the broad leaves of the summer forest; the
green, ghastly lightning at times lit up the long dark vistas,
glancing for an instant on the old gnarled trunks, imparting to them
a freakish and grotesque aspect that terrified Nicola, who began to
consider herself rather rash in having rehearsed that very far from
lively historiette or episode in the life of his Majesty Charles
VIII. in such an alarming locality; and as the thunder rolled and
hurtled above us, every moment nearer and more near, she was all
palpitating with terror like a little bird, when I wrapped my cloak
round her, as an additional protection from the fast falling rain.
I now became seriously anxious to find a place of shelter for her. A
night in the forest, exposed to all the discomfort of a storm, and to
the real and imaginary terrors of such a place, might prove, I
feared, too much for the constitution of a girl so delicate by
nature, and so tenderly nurtured as Nicola had been.
While I was in this state of perplexity, we discovered a cavern, or
deep fissure in a mass of ivy-covered rock close by us--the same rock
on which the old castle stood. The bridle of Dagobert, whose
equanimity (never very great at any time) was rather ruffled by the
thunder, I buckled to the branch of a tree. Entering, I examined the
place by firing my pistol among some dry leaves, and thus creating a
momentary light, found it to be a complete alcove in the rocks, full
of the withered spoils of the last autumn. I led in Nicola, placed
her in a comfortable nook, and after securing the horses close by, in
such a manner that to break loose or escape would be, for them,
impossible, I rejoined her; and there we sat, hand in hand, in that
dark rocky chamber, listening to the wild storm that bellowed
without, and watching the gleams of lightning that flashed and glared
on the stems of the summer forest.
I had my pistols at hand, prepared for any emergency; and making for
Nicola a bed composed of dry leaves and our mantles, I besought her
to be composed, and to endeavour to sleep; but she pressed my hand
gently, and declared herself to be too much alarmed and too excited
to think of sleeping; and there we were alone, at night, in that old
haunted forest on the borders of Champagne.
I pressed her dear and tiny hand from time to time, and occasionally
there was a response, which sent a thrill of happiness to my heart;
then she crept closer to my side, for the darkness was intense, and
the uproar of the elements without was somewhat appalling.
As we sat there, the deep, hoarse, solemn murmur of the wind, as it
rose and fell, had in it something very impressive. At times it
wailed like the mingled voices of a vast multitude; then it chafed
among the tossing branches like the waves of a distant sea, in fierce
and sudden gusts; anon it would die away, and we heard only the hiss
of the rain that poured so ceaselessly down on the leaves of the
drenched forest. At times strange sounds seemed to mingle with the
passing wind. I deemed these to be the cries of affrighted wolves;
and often sat pistol in hand, lest some of those dreadful denizens of
the wild should find our place of shelter, and rush headlong in.
The lightning that came in brilliant and quivering flashes revealed
the rugged outline of the cavern-mouth, and the wet dingles which
stretched away in vague and dark perspective; and the whole scene,
with all its concomitants, was so terrible, that Nicola drew her hood
over her eyes, and at times drooped her forehead on my shoulder. She
was faint with fear, and weary by fatigue; and, being a good little
Catholic, I heard her muttering her prayers from time to time.
Moreover, she made a vow, if she escaped all the terrors of the
night, to visit the most renowned shrine in Lorraine, that of St.
Lucy the Scot at St. Michel.
Then she uttered a feint cry, and clutched my arm!
A thunderbolt--a blazing ball of fire--which seemed to fall with a
startling roar, and by its own specific weight, struck at the mouth
of the cavern, a large tree, a strong and ancient oak, that had stood
perhaps for a hundred years, and clashed it to pieces, cleaving it,
like a mighty wedge of flame, to the roots in a moment. For a time
the sulphureous odour was stifling; but it subsided at last, and with
it the terror of my trembling companion.
'We are quite safe, Nicola,' said I, placing an arm gently round her.
'Safe--you think so? Ah! M. Blane, make a sign of the cross, just
once--to please me.'
'Mademoiselle, in me it were a mockery,' said I; 'for my forefathers
were the first to follow the precepts of the Lollards of Kyle.'
'Then their descendants should make amends, by being the first to
follow mine. You deem it, as they did, Popish likely? What matter
how you name it, or they named it; for, be assured, it is the sign of
Heaven: and I shall make three over you,' said she, waving her pretty
hand thrice, in the dark, across my eyes and brow.
'Dearest Nicola!'
'If you press my hand thus, I shall take the liberty of withdrawing
it. St. Ephrem says, Look at the little birds, when they stretch out
their winglets cross-wise--lo! they straight ascend towards heaven;
but when they fold them, they fall panting and breathless down
to--where?'
'The earth, I presume.'
'Yes--then think of these things.'
'Dear Nicola, I can think only of you.'
'When you have seen Marie Louise of Lorraine, you will think of me no
more.'
'Peste! my dear Nicola, I have no desire to see your Mademoiselle
Marie Louise; nor shall I trust myself near the dangerous vicinity of
her or her people, at least until I exchange the costume of an abbé
for the iron trappings of the Garde du Corps Ecossais.'
'And we shall have parted at the gates of Nanci?' said she, in a low
voice.
'Ah, Nicola,' I replied, 'you know not how the anticipation of that
parting wrings my heart!'
I sighed, and drew her close and closer still to my breast: she made
no resistance; but I was conscious that she wept bitterly, and this
secret emotion moved me deeply, and brought my passion to a height.
'Nicola,' said I, abruptly; 'will you marry me, dear Nicola? Oh, you
do not know how much--how tenderly, I love you!'
'Marry me--a poor soubrette--you, a chevalier of the King's
Guard--one of the proud noblesse of the Guard du Corps Ecossais!'
'Yes--I, Nicola.'
'Oh, monsieur, you must not speak in this way, or think of such a
thing; I am only a poor girl!'
'Why?'
'What would the army--what would all Paris, say?'
'I will marry you with joy, Nicola, and take you home to my own dear
country. The Countess--'
'Countess again!'
'Pardon me, dearest, I am not about to praise her, but merely to say
that she has promised that through the powerful interference of
Richelieu and King Louis, the cruel act which proscribes me shall be
rescinded; and I know she will keep that promise. At home, I have
lands, broad acres of corn and meadow, that lie by the banks of the
Dee; I have fell and forest, a tower and hall, where your merry laugh
shall make the echoes joyous again; and all that I have, with my
heart and love, will I share with you, Nicola,' said I, borne away by
the honest ardour of my passion, and the impulses of youth.
I felt her tremble still more, and her tears fell fast upon my cheek.
'Were I to admit that I loved you, would you be more devoted to me?'
'Impossible! I could not be more devoted than I now am.'
'Oh, silly M. Blane! I heard you once say nearly the same thing to
that woman d'Amboise.'
'No more of these memories, dearest Nicola, or I shall sink with
shame!'
'Then let us be silent!'
'Nay, nay; say that you love me--that you will marry me,' said I, in
a whisper; 'speak, Nicola, speak! for this suspense and silence are
torture!'
'It may not, cannot be; our ranks in life are unequal, and our paths
lie far apart.'
'Love, marriage will make them one.'
'Never!' she replied, in a broken voice; 'our paths in life must, I
repeat, lie far, far apart.'
'Nicola!'
'I am but a poor little soubrette, a penniless girl of humble origin;
and how would your proud Scottish kinswomen, with all their crests
and quarterings, receive me, if they knew of this?'
'It can never be known, Nicola; and as the wife of my heart, the lady
of Blanerne, I can find strong hands and steel blades enough in
Glenkens to force the proudest peer in Scotland to vail his bonnet to
you!'
'Force him! and this is one item of the happiness you would offer me.
That I love you, monsieur,' said she, weeping,' let these hot tears
attest, but cease to speak more of love or of marriage to me. Such
visions can never be realized; I could never brook the humiliation
you would prepare for me; for I have much of pride and hauteur in my
heart--albeit, you deem me so timid, meek, and gentle. I will strive
to be your friend; but this love I shall conquer, crush, forget
perhaps.'
'When?'
'When we separate;--alas! I cannot hope to achieve this fatal end
while I remain with you.'
'No--no, Nicola!' said I, pressing her to my heart, as the tenderness
and ingenuity of this admission, with the plaintive softness of her
voice, touched me inexpressibly; 'you shall never succeed in being so
cruel as to forget the pleasant days of our companionship, and the
love we have avowed.'
'It may be so.'
Then there ensued a long pause, and we continued to sit in darkness
and silence, hand-in-hand, our hearts and lips united as our
thoughts; until at last, overcome by agitation and fatigue, Nicola
feel asleep--asleep upon my breast!
Such a strange thing it is, this love.
I had met Nicola, and left her; met her again and again, to leave
her, without other thought than that she was beautiful; she had been
nothing to me then; but from the time that love began to spread its
halo round her, she seemed as necessary to me as the air or the
sunshine, yea, as life itself. We seemed now to have but one
existence, and the marvel to me became, how had I lived, and
breathed, and spent so many years without her; and without
discovering that her place in the world of my heart had been vacant.
It is very mysterious all this; but every lover has the same idea, or
he is no lover at all.
My whole being seemed now inspired by a new joy; and I no longer
remembered how time had passed with me before this fountain of
passion had welled up within our souls with the first kiss we
exchanged in that dark cavern, which, with all its attendant terrors,
had so suddenly brought our emotions to a crisis: and so passed our
night in the old haunted forest of king Charles VIII.