THE UNEXPECTED MEETING.
Although Mr. Freeman was not at all inclined to be sociable or familiar
with his neighbours himself, yet he did not object to his sister and
daughter being on friendly terms with them;--indeed he rather wished it,
and was never more pleased than when they were visiting at the
farm-houses in the neighbourhood, or giving entertainments at home--at
which he was seldom seen except in some mysterious manner. Strange
noises would sometimes be heard in "The Maister's" private room, in the
dusk of the evening, before the candles were brought in; and, in the
midst of the terror of the visitors, and almost before the noises had
subsided, Mr. Freeman would walk quietly into the room, and relate some
thrilling story, and disappear again in the same mysterious manner.
These scenes would be talked over the next day by the gossips, and after
going the round for a few days, the most extraordinary additions would
be made and circulated. And so he became a man of great importance, and
was looked upon as a superior being, and people feared him and believed
that his powers were much greater than they really were.
He was greatly assisted in obtaining information respecting his
neighbours, by his sister, who was a shrewd woman, and who by her tact
and cunning could lead on her friends imperceptibly to talk of their own
and their neighbours' private affairs. She would impart those secrets to
"The Maister," who stored them in his memory till opportunities arose
for using his information with advantage. And when those ignorant people
applied to him to be informed by whom they were ill-wished, or to
recover their property, perhaps, which had been stolen, he could guess
pretty nearly who the culprits were likely to be, having possession of
these little secrets (long since forgotten by them); and he would so
work upon their fears, that the property would be restored in some
mysterious way, and he then would have the credit for getting it back by
some supernatural agency.
Alrina had a good deal of her father's fondness for the mysterious, but
in her it took a more romantic turn. She would spend whole days,
sometimes, in wandering over the cliffs and examining with curiosity the
ruins of chapels and ancient fortifications, of which there were several
in that locality; and the tumuli in the neighbourhood of the chapels,
supposed to contain the ashes of the Druids and other holy men, afforded
great scope to her imagination. Her father, as we have seen, was not
very regular in his habits--indeed it would not have suited his purpose
to be so--and her aunt was sometimes so intent on sifting out any little
secret gossip, and relating it to "The Maister," that Alrina was often
left for days without the supervision of either her father or aunt, and
so she wandered about alone.
She was sitting, one fine morning after the shipwreck, under the shelter
of some high rocks at the Land's-End, watching the vessels as they
passed round the point--some inside and some outside the Longships, when
she heard herself addressed by some one overhead, and, on looking up,
she saw a handsome young man looking down on her from the rocks which
overhung her resting-place. It was some stranger, evidently, for he
merely said, "You seem fond of seclusion, fair lady;"--but when she
looked up, he exclaimed, "Alrina! can it be possible?" and in a moment
he was at her side.
A crimson flush overspread her face, extending almost to the roots of
her hair, as she jumped up, and extended her hand towards the intruder,
who clasped her in his arms, while she exclaimed, without attempting to
extricate herself, "Are my dreams and hopes so soon realized? Where have
you been? How did you get here?"
"I have surprised you, Alrina," replied he, pressing his lips to her
cheek; "and I assure you when I left England, two years ago, so
unexpectedly, I thought it would have been a longer separation; but it
was cruel of you, Alrina, not to keep your appointment that night,
knowing it was the last opportunity I had of seeing you before I quitted
England!"
"Indeed, Frederick," replied Alrina, "it was not my fault. You know that
one of the servants at the school discovered our secret meetings in the
garden, and told Mrs. Horton, who had the window nailed up through which
I used to get out, and----"
"Yes!" said the gentleman, hastily; "but I bribed the other girl, who
was not so scrupulous, to manage one more meeting, as it was the last
night before my departure, and she faithfully promised to do so."
"Circumstances seemed to thwart us in every way," replied Alrina. "The
young lady who slept in my room was suddenly taken ill, just after we
went to bed, and the servant who betrayed us before was desired to
remain with her all night, so that I was a prisoner."
"I see it all," said he; "and this explanation has relieved my mind from
anxious thoughts. But why did you not write me?"
"That was impossible," replied Alrina; "for I was taken from school
almost immediately, and didn't know where to address a letter to you. I
wrote to your sister, who had been a day-pupil at the same school, and
through whom we first became acquainted, but, not having her exact
address, I suppose the letter never reached her."
"Never mind, Alrina," said he, as he took a seat by her side in the
little sheltered nook she had before occupied; "we have met at
last;--and now I will tell you something more about myself and my
position than I thought it necessary to tell, or you to ask, in any of
our clandestine meetings,--we had other things to think of and talk
about then. I have since been knocked about in the world, and the
romantic passion of my boyhood has lost, perhaps, much of its romance,
but the love I then felt for you still remains in all its purity and
devotion."
"I never doubted that," replied Alrina, looking fondly at him, as she
used to do;--for her romance had not been rubbed off by contact with the
world, but, on the contrary, had increased;--her life had been one of
romance and mystery from her childhood, and everything around her seemed
veiled in mystery.
"I have never ceased to think of you, and to wonder where you had gone,
and whether I should ever see you again," she continued. "These rocks
have been my refuge from the monotony and mystery of home; and here I
have ofttimes given vent to my feelings, when I thought and knew I was
unobserved. But tell me," she continued, looking up into his fine manly
face with love and admiration, "where you have been, and what you have
been doing, since we last met."
"I had just obtained my commission in the 63rd Regiment of Light
Infantry," he resumed; "and my fondest hopes, as I thought, were
realized when I met you walking in solemn procession with the other
young ladies of Mrs. Horton's seminary. I was struck with your
appearance, and I asked my sister, who was, as you have said, a
day-pupil at the same school, who you were. All she could tell me was
that your name was Alrina Freeman; and, I suppose, that was all I wanted
to know just then. She took a note to you from me, and the next time I
met the school procession, there was a mutual recognition; several notes
passed between us; and at last you consented to a clandestine meeting in
the garden. Our meetings were discovered. My regiment was ordered abroad
suddenly, and, owing to the circumstances already related, we did not
meet again before my departure. I returned with my regiment about a
month since, and made all the inquiry in my power, but without avail. I
went to the school. The mistress was dead, and the school given up. I
had a month's furlough; and, hearing that an old schoolfellow had an
appointment at a signal-station near the Land's-End, I packed up my
traps in a carpet-bag, and arrived at my friend's station, at
Tol-pedn-Penwith about a week since. My friend is a bachelor;--he is
several years my senior, but a right jolly fellow. His name is Fowler.
He introduced me to the squire's family at Pendrea-house. The squire has
been a queer old chap in his time, I believe; but his wife seems a good
old soul, and the two daughters are charming;--but the name of Freeman
was always in my thoughts. In the course of conversation after dinner at
the squire's the other day, some one said that there was a celebrated
conjuror residing near the Land's-End, whose name was Freeman. I felt a
thrill run through me at the name, and I determined on paying him a
visit; for I thought that if he was so clever as he was reported to be,
he might be able to assist me with some information respecting her I so
anxiously sought, especially as he bore the same name. You have heard of
him, I dare say. I came out to-day alone, determined to see the
conjuror, and get all the information I could before I returned; and
seeing a young lady go down over the rocks, I was seized with a little
romantic curiosity, and followed, when, as I looked over the rocks above
your head, I caught sight of your face, as you turned your head to watch
the course of a vessel which was passing. I was not quite sure even
then, not expecting to see you here,--so I spoke to you, as to a
stranger, and when you looked up at me I saw I was not mistaken; and
now," continued he, pressing her hand and laughing, "I need not go to
the conjuror."
"I do not know that," said Alrina, in a thoughtful tone; "I think it is
most likely you will have to go to 'the conjuror,' after all, if you
wish to know anything more of my family, for the person you call 'the
conjuror' is my father."
"Your father!" exclaimed Frederick, in great surprise. "No! no! you are
joking."
"I am not, indeed," replied Alrina; "there is some mystery hanging over
my relatives, that I have never been able to unravel, especially as to
my father;--my mother I don't remember; she died when I was very young,
I believe. Where we resided before we came here I don't know. My father
is very clever,--there is no doubt about that,--and he manages to awe
the people here into the belief that he knows more than he really does;
and he has a mysterious room which is only entered by himself and those
whose fears and superstition he wishes to work upon. My aunt knows
something of these mysteries--how much I don't know;--but I know nothing
of them; I am kept entirely in ignorance; they don't seem to like to
trust me. Oh! how wretched it makes me feel; for I sometimes fancy it
may be too dreadful to be told, and then I come out alone, and wander
over the rocks, and think of those few happy moments of my life, never
to be forgotten. It is very, very hard to feel that no one has
confidence in me;" and she burst into tears.
"Don't distress yourself about these things now, dearest Alrina," said
her companion, taking her hand. "I will protect you with my life; and I
will see the conjuror and his secret chamber before I leave this
neighbourhood, and bring him to his bearings, or my name is not
Frederick Morley!"
"Oh! but if there should be some dreadful secret," replied Alrina,
sobbing, as her lover pressed her to his heart, "we could never be to
one another as we have hoped; and now that you know who my father is, I
fear you will look cold upon me too, like the rest of the world, and
that would kill me. Oh! Frederick, after all my dreams of happiness, if
I should lose your love when I feel I want it most, and when the fondest
hope of my life seems almost realized by your return so
unexpectedly,----"
"My dearest Alrina," said Morley, "you will find no change in my
affections or feelings. I will sift this secret out to the end, cost
what it may, and nothing shall separate us now."
Thus did the two youthful lovers talk on, until it was time for them to
separate; and so earnest were they in their conversation, and on the
renewal of their former loves, that they did not perceive the head that
was projecting from the overhanging rocks, nor the eager eyes and ears
which had seen and heard all that had passed between them.
"Ho! ho!" exclaimed the individual to whom the head belonged, as it
walked quietly away, when the interview between the two lovers was
drawing to a close; "secrets worth knowing!"