------------------------------------------------------------------------
All this was painfully incomprehensible to me. I was totally ignorant
of the character of a male flirt--I set down Mrs Rashleigh as a
friend!--a dashing, impudent woman, but only a friend--thirty-two years
old, as she acknowledged, and every one said she was at least
thirty-five, to me at sixteen she appeared old; Clarence Fairfax was
five-and-twenty.
I dare say that the intimacy of these two people would have been a
mystery to you; and yet, ere this, you may have learned how mischievous
is the influence which a bold, meretricious, experienced woman, whose
chief study has been to please the other sex, gains by perseverance over
a vain young man.
Clarence Fairfax loved me as well as he was capable of loving anything
besides himself; but he was enthralled by this daring being--he was
afraid of her. Ah! you may doubt; but history tells us how vain and
indolent men have quailed before vicious women. She even exercised a
sort of mysterious power over gentle Lady Amabel. The latter had an
instinctive, feminine dread of Mrs Rashleigh's sarcastic laugh and
audacious stare.
As for Sir Adrian, she amused him. She was a dashing rider, too; she
had given it up for some years, but returned to it on being tempted to
try Zara, my well-trained Arab. God forgive me for my suspicions--it
acquired some dangerous tricks under her tutoring; she used to boast of
her talent for the _manege_, and scandalised the decorous Dutch ladies,
who, she said, were jealous of her, by riding with the General and his
staff about the square at a grand review.
Lady Amabel was beginning to penetrate the cause of my fits of
dejection, when unexpected news from the military posts startled both
her and myself.
The war-cry had rung from the mountains in Kafirland. Vividly do I
remember the night on which this intelligence reached Cape Town. The
whole of the authorities, with many members of their families, had
assembled, amid a crowd of pleasure-loving people, on board a fine
English frigate, to celebrate a national festival. Gay groups were
scattered about the decks, awaiting the arrival of Sir Adrian and his
party. I was happy that evening, and stepped on the deck, leaning on
Clarence's arm. How kind, how tender had been his manner, as he almost
lifted me from the barge to the gangway of the noble ship! As people
are said, in the last hours of existence, to review minutely every
incident of their lives, so could I once retrace the most trifling
details of this brilliant and enchanting fete. As I recall it now, I
remember everything--the wreaths, the flags of all the great nations of
the world; the glittering arms interspersed among the laurels, and the
effect of the soft light from the battle-lanterns disposed along the
poop; innumerable lamps shedding their radiance through the draperies of
scarlet and amber, purple, green, and white, and blue; the crowds of
laughing dancers; the imposing array of military and naval uniforms and
decorations.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ah, fatal gift of beauty!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
How long it was before I could cease to think of Clarence on that night,
his plumed hat in his hand! How often did his gay laugh haunt me, like
a mockery, in the silence of the night! His countenance beamed like an
angel's, as it leant down to mine, and his whispered accents touched my
very soul amid the din of the giddy throng.
Arms clattered on the deck, as the Governor, Sir Adrian, acknowledged
the salute from the guard of honour; the stirring air of "God save the
King" pealed from the band on the poop; the crowd parted right and left,
and the Admiral came forward to receive us. Having paid his
compliments, Admiral B gave the order, in a good-humoured voice, to
"clear the decks for action"--dance-music floated from unseen musicians;
the officers selected their partners, and Clarence Fairfax led me to the
head of the quadrille.
Mrs Rashleigh placed herself opposite to us, with Captain Walton; she
was fanning herself, and was evidently much excited and agitated. I
felt she was my evil genius for the night at least.
There was a fiendish light in her eye, but Clarence either did not or
_would_ not observe it, and he was in such spirits, that their influence
for a time was irresistible.
We were laughing merrily together as Mrs Rashleigh sailed past us in
the quadrille.
"Have you heard the news?" said she, addressing Clarence--she seldom
deigned to recognise me except by an insolent bow.
"News?--no." And the young aide-de-camp led me back to my place.
"There's a man-of-war just coming in," said he; "she has been making
signals to the station on the hills; what news can she bring?"
The sun had long set, and the man-of-war dropped her anchor in silence;
it was soon whispered that she had brought news from the south-eastern
coast; and besides this, some excitement prevailed in consequence of her
having had a desperate affray with pirates off the coast of Madagascar,
and she had been looked for with much anxiety and interest, rumours of
the action having reached us some days before?
There was silence. It was so profound, that we could distinguish the
plash of the oars. The flag-lieutenant descended the gangway to meet
the commander of the sloop, and attending him to the deck, presented him
to Admiral D. After the usual compliments had passed, Captain Leslie
requested to be introduced at once to the Governor, for whom he had
brought important despatches.
Mrs Rashleigh came up at once to Clarence Fairfax; but looking at _me_,
observed abruptly, "We must bid adieu to balls and fetes immediately.
The Governor and his suite will have to start for the frontier without
delay. You will be charmed, I am sure, to take the field again, Major
Fairfax,"--here she addressed herself to him;--"for you must be tired of
lounging at pianos and superintending embroidery. Don't faint, Miss
Daveney; you are as white as death, I vow. He will come back again;
aides-de-camp never get shot, especially in Kafirland."
It is a fearful thing for a young heart to feel the germ of dislike
springing in its depths; and, alas! I began to hate this woman.
Clarence looked round for some one to whose care he could commit me. "I
must go," he said, "to my uncle at once." I instinctively moved away
with him. We left Mrs Rashleigh standing alone. Every one was
crowding towards the poop to hear the news. Lady Amabel had fainted.
The next few hours are vaguely sketched upon the tablets of my mind--day
was dawning, as we descended the carpeted steps of the gangway to depart
for the shore. I tottered into the barge, Clarence Fairfax supported me
in his arms, and Lady Amabel was reclining on a seat, with Sir Adrian
attempting to comfort her. Mrs Rashleigh was waiting for the Admiral's
cutter to convey her to land. I could not reconcile her levity with the
idea of her regard for Clarence. She was on the last step of the
gangway, and leaning down, she looked under the canopy of the barge:
"Pray, tell Lady Amabel," said she to me, with a mocking smile, "that
she must not alarm herself; it will be quite a question of _words_ on
the frontier, and we shall soon return. I have made up my mind to
accompany Mr Rashleigh, who goes with the Governor. We shall have a
charming party; good night."
Clarence muttered something between his teeth. I laid my head on his
shoulder, and sobbed bitterly. I forgot Lady Amabel and Sir Adrian;
indeed they were intent on their own regrets and responsibilities.
Clarence pressed me to his heart, and parting the curls from my brow,
kissed me for the first and last time.
Oh! that stir in the household in the early morning the dread
preparation for war--weapons lying on the gilded tables; holsters flung
across the banisters; servants hurrying hither and thither with saddlery
and accoutrements; the impatient chargers pawing in the stable-yard, as
if they steady "snuffed the battle afar off;" orderlies dashing to the
open doorways on foaming horses; and impatient voices issuing commands
to the startled underlings!
I rose early and went below; my heart sickened at these evidences of
immediate departure. I returned to my sleeping apartment. It loosed
into the beautiful view of the approach to the house from my
dressing-room. I could hear the clatter of horses' feet in the stables,
and grooms and soldiers laughing, enjoying the prospect of the journey,
and perhaps war. It was early day. How lovely is nature at her
_reveille_ in this soft climate! She was waking in the garden to the
matin songs of birds; she was lifting her veil on the mountain-top, and
unfurling her crimson banner in the sky to herald the coming of the sun.
But with me all was gloom. That Clarence Fairfax loved me, in his
impetuous way, I _believed_,--alas! I did not know; but the future was
a dark abyss. He was going--going into danger. All the horrible
histories I had been told of death at savage hands rose before me. The
hour or two passed in sleep during the night had been haunted with
bloody spectres. I saw that brow stained with gore, those eyes which
had beamed on me with merry light closed for ever. Gracious heaven! I
had dreamt of torture, agony, and shame, with my beloved Clarence in the
foreground of the picture.
Up and down, up and down those two rooms I paced, shivering on that
sunny morning with dread, dismay, and doubt. Tears came--they poured in
torrents over my face. I caught sight of it in the large mirror--it was
pitiable to behold. I wept the more at the sight of my miserable and
altered countenance. How sad is self-pity! It is so long since I have
recalled these wretched moments of existence, that I can dwell upon them
now more as a vividly-remembered dream than as actual facts. I give
you, dear friend, more details than you may like to have, but I think
you have a right to watch the phases through which my mind passed under
the influence of that absorbing earthly passion.
Yes, it was a mere earthly passion; but many wiser than I have been
bewildered and enchained by exceeding beauty, a dazzling smile, a
winning manner, a perfect form, and a reputation distinguished among men
for gallant and generous actions--generous, you know, in the worldly
acceptation of the term.
Besides, while with me, Clarence was wholly mine; if I might judge by
manner, hanging over my embroidery frame while Lady Amabel was writing;
or--
Ah! I have said enough of this. He was to leave me now. Would he die?
Would he return? or, if he did, would he return true to me, and _tell
me that he_ loved me?
You see, under all this strong current of love for him, there were
doubts. I hardly recognised them; but they existed nevertheless. I had
heard him laugh at "love-stricken damsels," left by men who had been
publicly engaged to them. I recollected his boasting, of giving advice
to a young officer, who had gone "a great deal too far," to get sick
leave, and sail for England by the first ship. The young man did not
take this advice; he stayed, married, and Clarence called him "a
fool."--Yes, these doubts rose to the surface of my mind, and then--
I heard his voice in the front of the house. I lifted the blind of the
dressing-room window, and saw him: he looked harassed, he had been up
all night. He was on horseback, and fully accoutred. Oh! was he
departing? I dropped the blind; next I heard the rattle of spurs and
sword; he had dismounted.
I wiped the tears from my eyes, and ran down to the garden by a back
staircase. Clarence had some deer there in a little paddock. I walked
mechanically along a grape-walk to the inclosure: the pretty things knew
me, for I visited them every day; they put their faces through the
railings, and licked my hands. Nelly--he had named one after me--
trotted up and down impatiently; she was watching for her master. I
suppose he thought that I should be with his favourites; for, ere long,
he came through the grape-walk. I hastened to meet him--for agitation
and distress overcame my reserve--and we walked up and down the arcade
together.
He entreated me not to forget him, said he should be wretched till he
returned, and a hundred tender things besides; but I could see that the
change from garrison life to active service was exciting to him: he had
no idea of temporising with savages, he said; he hoped Sir Adrian would
settle the question by "speaking to the Kafirs," as they said
themselves, "with guns." Oh! it would only be a month's affair. They
were to ride five hundred miles a week till they reached the seat of
war; and then, he added, with a gay air, "think how much faster we shall
ride back."
We met Sir Adrian in the garden; he had been looking for Clarence. The
Governor was too full of public affairs and his own domestic anxiety to
say much to me. A young girl of seventeen, in the full bloom of mirth
and beauty, was an agreeable object to him in a ball-room, but he was
wont to laugh, like Clarence, at "sorrow-stricken damsels;" he saw I had
been weeping, but could enter little into my misery; he uttered some
courteous expressions of regret at leaving me to the dulness of Cape
Town in the absence of officials; and with more show of feeling than I
had seen him exhibit, said, "You will take care of Lady Amabel, my dear
Miss Daveney; I am consoled in these hurried moments of departure at the
idea of leaving her with so sweet a companion."
"You must make breakfast for us this morning," added he, giving me his
arm, and leading me through the verandah to the room where the repast
was spread.
I sat down passively in the chair Sir Adrian placed for me, and did the
honours of the breakfast to the Governor, his staff, and two or three
civil functionaries.
Mr Rashleigh was there--obsequious, prosy, and judicial: he was alike
despised and disliked in private life; but he was "Sir Adrian's right
hand at Cape Town;" was _au fait_ at the working of the difficult
machinery of government from one end of the colony to the other; and, as
I afterwards heard, kept up a sort of civil treaty with Mrs Rashleigh,
who had never loved him, but who had a thorough sense of the advantages
she derived from her position as his wife, surrounded by the appliances,
and, what she considered, the state of official life. She had ample
evidence against him to procure a divorce if she chose it; but such a
proceeding would have been the ruin of both. She had the art to conceal
her most glaring errors from the world, and rumours were afloat of
stormy debates between this worldly, unprincipled pair: he remonstrating
on her extravagance, she defying him, by threatening him with an
_esclandre_ that would have deprived him of his high appointment.
You may believe that such rumours never reached Sir Adrian and Lady
Amabel. It is "expedient" to overlook the most glaring errors of
powerful and useful men. Probably, if any one had endeavoured to
enlighten Sir Adrian, the latter would have deprecated the information
as intrusive. No; every one believed Mr and Mrs Rashleigh to be
unprincipled people; but they had a fine house, gave elegant
entertainments, were on the best terms with the first authorities
through every successive government, never worried others with their
quarrels; on the contrary, were perfectly civil to each other in public;
and, although the lady was said to be extravagant, she paid her debts.
I am telling you what, probably, you may have heard of these baneful
people; for it is not very long since circumstances came to light which
would never have been known had the Rashleighs continued prosperous; but
the day came when the world did not care what it believed against them,
and then their very errors were exaggerated--if that were possible--but
I must not be uncharitable. How true that remark of Sir Thomas More--I
forget the exact words--you quoted them the other day--that "our faults
we engraven on marble--our virtues traced in the dust!"
The gentlemen hurried over their breakfast, and Sir Adrian retired with
Mr Rashleigh. How I longed to rise and escape through the window into
the garden! but it was impracticable, and there I remained for upwards
of an hour, with a heart bursting with grief, while my face was
condemned to wear a calm appearance. Doubtless, "Fairfax's flirtation
with little Miss Daveney" had been talked of at many of these men's
tables; but they were all too much interested in the important events
pending to give a thought to the shy, melancholy little figure, sitting
with her back to the light, and dispensing tea and coffee as fast as the
servants could hand round the silver salvers.
Oh! weak of heart and weak of mind that I was in those days!--But am I
the wiser for the past?
I trust so; I pray it may prove good for me that I have been afflicted,
and that, like the land desolated apparently by the dark waters of the
Nile, my soul may be purified and strengthened by the floods that have
gone over my soul, and that the receding tide may leave all refreshed,
hopeful, and serene.
Oh! the solitude of a great mansion which for weeks has been ringing
with sounds of dancers' feet, of laughter, and of song. The large
vacant rooms, the tall mirrors, reflecting in all directions one
insignificant little object! I went wandering about the apartments at
Government House the greater part of that morning. Lady Amabel was in
bed, exhausted by a succession of fainting-fits. The sudden
announcement of the evil tidings had scared her weak nerves, and Sir
Adrian's speedy departure had prostrated her. They had scarcely been
sundered for twenty years, save in some short brilliant campaigns in
India. No one seemed to dread actual danger to the General's person in
his present expedition; but I had heard something of the foe he was
about to encounter, and I knew what _might_ be.
Clarence Fairfax and I parted amid a bevy of officials. We shook hands
like commonplace acquaintances. The other members of the staff came
rattling in through the open doors. All was hurry at the last; I ran up
to my dressing-room window, and watched the assemblage of people who had
come to make their parting bow to the popular Governor.
Horses, men, equipages were crowded together; Sir Adrian appeared--there
was a hearty shout--the grooms and orderlies brought up the chargers,
they were rowing and fretting with impatience. My pretty Zara was led
by a dragoon, to be ridden only occasionally. The General and staff
were soon in their saddles--the crowd gave way--Sir Adrian waved his
hat--the aides-de-camp bowed right and left, and the cavalcade proceeded
at a rapid pace down the street. In ten minutes not a trace was left of
this gallant array. The Rashleighs were to follow the Governor in the
afternoon. They drove up to the door of Government House in their
travelling equipage, saddle and sumpter horses following. Lady Amabel
could not see them--I would not; but from my dressing-room, where I sat
trying to draw, I could hear Mrs Rashleigh's imperative voice. I
looked through the Venetian blinds for an instant, and turned away, sick
at heart.
It was evening before Lady Amabel and I met. How vast the room looked
as we two sat at dinner, with a lamp shining on a table usually crowded
with guests. Next day we departed for Newlands.
Sweet, gentle, kind Lady Amabel. She had, as I have told you, begun to
penetrate the cause of my occasional dejection: occasional--for there
were times when I had no doubt of Clarence Fairfax's attachment. But
she had her misgivings about Mrs Rashleigh, whom she spoke of once or
twice as a "dangerous woman;" and this was a strong expression for Lady
Amabel. She now drew from me a part of "Love's sad history," and
expressed her regrets at Clarence's departure without opening his mind
to her. In many ways she betrayed uneasiness at the idea of Mrs
Rashleigh's determination to follow the authorities to the frontier.
How solitary now to me were those long, green vistas at Newlands! The
fountain of Egeria had its own peculiar melancholy charm, and many early
morning hours were passed in these bowers, consecrated in memory to love
and happiness.
Letters soon arrived, bringing us hopeful intelligence of peace with
Kafirland; but an immense press of business was likely to detain Sir
Adrian for some time. He even talked of a journey to Natal, on the
northeastern coast; but, the fear of absolute and immediate danger
removed, visitors poured in to offer their congratulations, for Lady
Amabel had endeared herself to many.
The despatches contained a note for me. I put it aside till I could
open it in solitude. It was full of kindness, and I was comparatively
happy.
On the other hand, I was doomed to hear of fetes and balls got up to
celebrate Sir Adrian's arrival at Graham's Town, the capital of the
frontier. Mrs Rashleigh was doing the honours of his house; her
husband and herself were its inmates, and I could detect many a lurking
smile on the lips of keen-witted, ill-natured visitors, as they listened
to the relation of these "facts and scraps" to Lady Amabel.
Some relations of Sir Adrian's happened at this time to take up their
abode at the Cape. They called at Newlands, and introduced a young man,
who had come from England with them, and who brought letters of special
introduction to the Governor.
Lady Amabel was indisposed, and I received the guests; they remained to
luncheon. Lady Amabel sent to request that they, with _Mr Lyle_, would
remain to dinner. They could not accept the invitation, but Mr Lyle
did, and was left _tete-a-tete_ with me.
Handsome, original, and clever, he certainly beguiled away those hours
more agreeably than I had expected. He spent the evening with Lady
Amabel and myself. She liked him; she said he was "not _too_ clever for
us," in our unsettled, agitated state, for we were only _hoping_ for
peace; and she gave him a general invitation to our country residence,
to which she had also asked her relatives during their _sejour_ at the
Cape. Unaccustomed to thoroughly "private life," Lady Amabel was happy
to throw her house open again to society. We had no fetes or
dinner-parties; we were not gay, but we were cheerful, for every week
brought us more hopeful intelligence from the seat of war. I heard less
of Mrs Rashleigh and Clarence Fairfax, and believed his excuses for
short and hurried notes to me. The interchange of these notes was not
quite right; but, although kind, they contained no warm expressions of
regard. Lady Amabel considered them harmless, because Clarence signed
himself a "Faithful Cousin." I suppose she had not the heart to forbid
what she saw gave me so much pleasure. He was, he said, "overwhelmed
with office work."
Mr Lyle had been sent from England to join a force quartered at Natal,
but with especial credentials to the Governor, to whom he enclosed them.
He shortly received instruction to remain at Cape Town for the present,
Sir Adrian anticipating an opportunity of naming him for a staff
appointment.
He visited us almost daily. Lady Amabel was charmed with his
attentions. He was ever ready to bring us good news, and on the arrival
of despatches would gallop out to Newlands to be the first herald of the
tidings.
I have told you that the first impression he made was agreeable--but as
for marriage!--
He treated me with a certain air of respect, which, I confess, pleased
me exceedingly. He seemed more for my favour than Lady Amabel's. There
was a peculiar kind of cleverness, too, in his conversation, which was
new--it was that of _educated ability_; but he had an original way of
discussing questions, and, through the respectful reserve he maintained
towards me, I could discover a lurking talent for sarcasm, not
ill-natured, but irresistibly amusing. He entertained Lady Amabel very
much with his "quiet impertinences," as she called them, and "drew out"
her colonial visitors to an extent they never dreamt of. I own that I
was a little mystified; it was some time before I could discover the
difference between jest and earnest in this character.
Lady Amabel, as I have told you, though elegant and charming, was an
idler; she missed Mr Lyle extremely, when some days passed without a
visit from him. It never struck me, till enlightened by his own
subsequent revelations, that he withdrew himself from us occasionally in
order to be recalled--an absence of two or three days was sure to be
followed by a note of invitation to dine at Newlands--and then he came
with news, private and political. His credentials had introduced him to
the principal families at Cape Town, and he was already well received
among them.
He had the talent of adapting himself to the habits and tastes of all
classes and both sexes; he could talk politics with officials, and was
often asked by Lady Amabel to assist her in entertaining such persons as
she had friendly reasons for inviting to Newlands. She thought him a
little spoiled, for it did not always suit his mood to talk. She did
not discover, nor did I at the time, her own error in spoiling him
herself.
He turned all kind Lady Amabel's foibles to his own account.
No two characters could be more opposite than Lyle's and Clarence
Fairfax's, and yet both had certain attributes in common; both were
brave and daring, but Clarence had less moral courage than Lyle--both
loved to conquer, but the one wanted perseverance, and would yield to
passion while success was doubtful. I could recall many circumstances
which would explain these contrasts in the two characters. Clarence
Fairfax, in his resolution to conquer a horse, closed the contest by
shooting it dead in the face of his grooms. Lyle seized the reins of
one of Sir Adrian's fiery steeds, and, mounting it when excited to fury,
fought with it resolutely, till it quailed beneath his hand, and then
galloped it for miles against its will, till it was thoroughly tamed.
People had seen these two men play billiards, and remarked the dashing
impetuosity of the one, and the cool, calculating game of the other; the
one winning by quiet determination.
Both Lyle and Fairfax sketched well; the first filled his portfolio with
wild scenes from storms at sea or battle-pieces, roughly done, but full
of spirit--there were also innumerable caricatures--so true as scarcely
to be caricatures; Clarence was a graceful artist. Neither liked
reading, for reading's sake; but Clarence could quote many a passage
from Moore's and Byron's softest poems, while Lyle was more at home with
"Thalaba" or "Cain;" but liked better, he said, to shape his opinions
from his own observation than from books.