CHAPTER XI
AURORA
Felix fell on the seat beside her, burying his face in the folds of herdress; he sobbed, not with tears, but choking passion. She held him toher heart as if he had been a child, stroking his hair and kissing it,whispering to him, assuring him that her love was his, that she wasunchanged. She told him that it was not her fault. A little while beforethe feast the Baron had suddenly broken out into a fit of temper, suchas she had never seen him indulge in previously; the cause was pressureput upon him by his creditors. Unpleasant truths had escaped him;amongst the rest, his dislike, his positive disapproval of the tacitengagement they had entered into.
He declared that if the least outward sign of it appeared before theguests that were expected, he would order Felix to leave the place, andcancel the hearth-friendship, no matter what the consequence. It wasclear that he was set upon a wealthy and powerful alliance for her; thatthe Earl was either coming, or would send his son, he knew; and he knewthat nothing so repels a possible suitor as the rumour that the lady hasa previous engagement. In short, he made it a condition of Felix'spresence being tolerated at all, that Aurora should carefully abstainfrom showing the slightest attention to him; that she should ignore hisexistence.
Nor could she prevent Durand following her without a marked refusal tolisten to his conversation, a refusal which would most certainly at oncehave brought about the dreaded explosion. She thought it better, underthe circumstances, to preserve peace, lest intercourse between her andFelix should be entirely broken off for ever. This was the secrethistory of the apparent indifference and neglect which had so deeplyhurt him. The explanation, accompanied as it was with so many tenderexpressions and caresses, soothed him; he returned her kisses and becamecalmer. He could not doubt her, for in his heart he had suspectedsomething of the kind long since.
Yet it was not so much the explanation itself, nor even the love shepoured upon him, as the mere fact of her presence so near that broughthim to himself. The influence of her steadfast nature, of her clear,broad, straightforward view of things, the decision of her character,the high, unselfish motives which animated her, all together suppliedthat which was wanting in himself. His indecision, his tooimpressionable disposition, which checked and stayed the force of histalent, and counteracted the determination of a naturally iron will;these, as it were, were relieved; in a word, with her he became himself.
How many times he had told her as much! How many times she had repliedthat it was not herself, but that in which she believed, that was thereal cause of this feeling! It was that ancient and true religion; thereligion of the primitive church, as she found it in the fragments ofthe Scriptures that had come down from the ancients.
Aurora had learnt this faith from childhood; it was, indeed, a traditionof the house preserved unbroken these hundred years in the midst of thejarring creeds, whose disciples threatened and destroyed each other. Onthe one hand, the gorgeous rite of the Vice-Pope, with the priests andthe monks, claimed dominion, and really held a large share, both overthe body and the soul; on the other, the Leaguers, with their bold,harsh, and flowerless creed, were equally over-bearing and equallybigoted. Around them the Bushmen wandered without a god; the Romanycalled upon the full moon. Within courts and cities the gay and thelearned alike mocked at all faith, and believed in gold alone.
Cruelty reigned everywhere; mercy, except in the name of honour, therewas none; humanity was unknown. A few, a very few only, had knowledge ofor held to the leading tenets, which, in the time of the ancients, wereassented to by everyone, such as the duty of humanity to all, the dutyof saving and protecting life, of kindness and gentleness. These few,with their pastors, simple and unassuming, had no power or influence;yet they existed here and there, a living protest against thelawlessness and brutality of the time.
Among these the house of Thyma had in former days been conspicuous, butof late years the barons of Thyma had, more from policy than from aughtelse, rather ignored their ancestral faith, leaning towards the League,which was then powerful in that kingdom. To have acted otherwise wouldhave been to exclude himself from all appointments. But Aurora, learningthe old faith at her mother's knee, had become too deeply imbued withits moral beauty to consent to this course. By degrees, as she grew up,it became in her a passion; more than a faith, a passion; the object ofher life.
A girl, indeed, can do but little in our iron days, but that little shedid. The chapel beside the castle, long since fallen to decay, was, ather earnest request, repaired; a pastor came and remained as chaplain,and services, of the simplest kind, but serious and full of meaning,took place twice a week. To these she drew as many as possible of theinhabitants of the enclosure; some even came from afar once now and thento attend them. Correspondence was carried on with the remnant of thefaith.
That no one might plead ignorance (for there was up to the date nowritten record) Aurora set herself the task of reducing the traditionswhich had been handed down to writing. When the manuscript was at lastcompleted it occupied her months to transcribe copies of it forcirculation; and she still continued to make copies, which were sent bymessengers and by the travelling merchants to the markets, and evenacross the sea. Apart from its intrinsically elevating character, themere mental labour expended on this work had undoubtedly strengthened anaturally fine intellect. As she said, it was the faith, the hope thatthat faith would one day be recognised, which gave her so much influenceover others.
Upon this one thing only they differed; Felix did not oppose, did noteven argue, he was simply untouched. It was not that he believed inanything else, nor that he doubted; he was merely indifferent. He hadtoo great a natural aptitude for the physical sciences, and too clear amind, to accept that which was taught by the one or the other of the twochief opposing parties. Nor could he join in the ridicule and derisionof the gay courtiers, for the mystery of existence had impressed himdeeply while wandering alone in the forest. But he stood aloof; hesmiled and listened, unconvinced; like the wild creatures of the forest,he had no ears for these matters. He loved Aurora, that was all.
But he felt the influence just the same; with all his powers of mind andcontempt of superstitions in others, he could not at times shake off theapprehensions aroused by untoward omens, as when he stepped upon theadder in the woods. Aurora knew nothing of such things; her faith wasclear and bright like a star; nothing could alarm her, or bringuneasiness of mind. This beautiful calm, not cold, but glowing with hopeand love, soothed him.
That evening, with her hope and love, with her message of trust, shealmost persuaded him. He almost turned to what she had so long taught.He almost repented of that hardness of heart, that unutterable distance,as it were, between him and other men, which lay at the bottom of hisproposed expedition. He opened his lips to confess to her his purpose,and had he done so assuredly she would have persuaded him from it. Butin the very act of speaking, he hesitated. It was characteristic of himto do so. Whether she instinctively felt that there was somethingconcealed from her, or guessed that the discontent she knew he had solong endured was coming to a point, or feared lest what she had told himmight drive him to some ill-considered act, she begged him with all thepower of her love to do nothing hasty, or in despair, nothing that wouldseparate them. He threw his arms around her, he pressed her closely tohim, he trembled with the passion and the struggle within him.
"My lady calls for you, Mademoiselle," said a voice; it was Aurora'smaid who had kept watch. "She has asked for you some time since. Someoneis coming into the garden!"
There was no help for it; Aurora kissed him, and was gone before hecould come to himself. How long the interview had lasted (time fliesswiftly in such sweet intercourse), or how long he sat there after sheleft, he could not tell; but when he went out already the dusk wasgathering, the sun had gone down, and in the east the as yet pale orb ofthe moon was rising over the hills. As if in a dream he walked withunsteady steps to the castle stable; his horse had been put back, andthe grooms suggested to him that it was
better not to attempt the forestat night. But he was determined; he gave them all the coin he had abouthim, it was not much, but more than they had expected.
They ran beside him to the barrier; advising him as they ran, as hewould go, to string his bow and loosen an arrow in the girdle, and aboveall, not to loiter, or let his horse walk, but to keep him at as sharp atrot as he could. The fact that so many wealthy persons had assembled atthe castle for the feast would be sure to be known to the banditti (theoutlaws of the cities and the escaped serfs). They were certain to be onthe look out for travellers; let him beware.
His ears tingled and his head felt hot, as if the blood had rushed intoit (it was the violence of the emotion that he had felt), as he rodefrom the barrier, hearing, and yet without conscious knowledge of whatthey said. They watched him up the slope, and saw him disappear fromsight under the dark beeches of the forest.
After London; Or, Wild England Page 17