CHAPTER XXII.
"You, too, who hurry me away So cruelly, one moment stay--." _Lalla Rookh._
"And thou my lover's sister? then thou'rt mine, And as a sister I will fight for thee, Albeit the sword my own breast deeply pierces!" _Old Play._
We must retrograde in our story, and once more return and pick up thedropped stitch at Seaview, from the doors of which the carriage bearingEllen and her abductors had just driven off. We need no longer hide fromour readers the true state of affairs, nor lead them to believe, asEllen did, her companions were officers of the law. The police officerwith the long beard was none other than Sir Richard Musgrave; hisassistants Bill Stacy, Farmer Forbes, and his son Archy, who acted asJehu on the occasion; and they were driving, not to Edinburgh but toCessford's Peel, in which castle the final scenes of this awful playwere to be enacted. The night had been wisely chosen, first from itsbeing Saturday, and the approaching Sunday would come aptlybetween--secondly from its being a peculiarly dark and rainy evening,and less liability of pursuit being crowned with any success. Contraryto Sir Richard's expectations, now that succour seemed impossible, EllenRavensworth nerved herself up for the worst, and did not give way and ina flood of tears supplicate his mercy; on the contrary, she sat besidehim apparently little concerned at her fate; her eye was clear, hercountenance calm, and without speaking a word she silently seemedoffering petitions to the Great Protector for his protection under thesetrying circumstances. She was innocent, there was nothing to make herterrified, her innocence was at once buckler and sword; she felt sure itwould shine forth; she was not living in an uncivilized state; she wouldbe tried by lawful judges; she would have her own father to plead hercause; she would have the powerful assistance of the Earl, her plightedlord--she could feel sure but of one result, she had still higherprotection--His aid who has promised to protect frail innocence! and shewas certain God would defend the right, and not suffer her to ask hisaid in vain. Whilst such high thoughts filled her mind the carriageswept on. "I must be now close to Edinburgh," she thought, and thenanother thought struck her, by this time her father would bereturned--what would be his agony to find his daughter even suspected ofsuch a crime, and he, her own beloved lord, what would he think? howwould he receive the news that his promised bride was an inmate of theprison cell? The wife of Caesar must be free even of suspicion,--LordWentworth's bride should not even be suspected,--had she given any causefor this? she could not think so, but this second train of thoughts wasterrible! Still the carriage rolled on, the horses still dragged itforward at a furious pace--why were not the lights of Edina seen? Ahorrible thought struck her: she was not going to Edinburgh. She glancedout of the window. It was no thought but reality; on each side rose darkwoods, she could dimly see them by the reflection of the carriage lamps.She started up; the officer, thinking she meditated an escape, seizedher by the wrist, saying--
"Not so fast, my gentle lady, you escape not thus."
Was it only fancy, or had she heard that voice before?
"Believe me, sir," she said, throwing herself at his feet, "believe me,I tried not to escape, but tell me,--tell me for His sake who madeus,--where are you taking me to?"
Sir Richard answered not; perhaps he saw she was suspicious; and, afraidhis voice might betray him forebore; for whatever part he took in thematter, he had no wish she should find out his disguise.
"Oh, sir, I beseech you, tell me! As you are a man--a man ofhonour--tell me!--it is not prison to which you are taking me, you areno police officer; whoever you may be, tell me."
There was still no answer.
"Have you no pity? have you no heart?" cried the unfortunate beauty, herfirmness now giving way, and the large tear standing in her blue eye."Oh, if you have a sister, by her love I adjure you, tell me! by yourmother's love, oh, tell me! Can you see a distressed maiden, can you seeher tears, and yet feel no pity? I will forgive you all, I will pardonall your treachery, if you will only release me--take me to my father!"
"Lady, I am not the soft changeling to be turned from my purpose by awoman's tears. I do not ask your pardon, nor do I wish it; you will findere long where you are bound to; you are witty, you have found outshrewdly the arrest is a sham, now see if you can guess the arresters?"
Ellen seeing entreaty prevailed not, now tried threats.
"Then if you are beneath your sex, if you have not even the heart of asoulless lion, for even he is said to respect a maiden, hear me and fearthe vengeance both of God and man--see what the Earl of Wentworth willdo!"
"I fear neither, most sage damsel; this evening I shall sup with hislordship; is there any message from his distressed lady love?"
"Who, and what are you? I should know the voice--I thought not mortalman could be so devoid of all human feelings--are you a fiendincarnate?"
"You may think me so if you please--you have then no message for myLord. Shall I tell him Ellen Ravensworth spends the evening with herfeere?"
Ellen could bear it no longer, but burst into tears.
"Ha, my proud damosel dissolves at last; like most storms, hers too endsin rain! but here we are at last, my fair lady, and I must begone. Ho!for the Towers!"
The carriage which had been descending a steep road here stopped, andSir Richard leaped forth, and with mock politeness handed Ellen out.Again she thought of flight into the dark woods, but once more herretreat was cut off by Stacy and Forbes.
"Show our maiden fair to her dormitory," said Sir Richard, "and I mustbe off."
"Unhappy man, bad as you are leave me not to these ruffians; you will atleast not hurt your victim!"
"Nor will they; Bill, do you hear, see the young lady up stairs; as youvalue your life touch her not, nay speak not to her,--I must away."
Mounting a horse that stood ready at the door, Sir Richard galloped off,and left Ellen to Bill's and Forbes' tender mercies, whilst he himselfrode to the Towers with Archy Forbes; he reached it a few minutes afterMr. Ravensworth's arrival, and divesting himself of his disguise at thestables entered with the coolness of a thorough paced villain, joined inthe conversation, and professed himself as surprised as any one.
It was too dark for Ellen to see much beyond an old tower to which shewas hurried, and dark woods around. Following the two gaolers, shepassed through a low, strong door, clamped with brass, and entered thehall of the tower, and commenced ascending a winding stone staircase;there were now only these two men with her, and half way up the tallerdeparted by a side door, leaving her alone with Stacy.
"Kind hearts are sometimes hidden beneath a rough exterior, old man,"said Ellen; "pity the distress of a wronged, helpless woman!"
"You have mistook Bill's colours, my pretty little craft; Bill Stacy'snot a kind heart, his heart is as rough as his phisog," answered the oldman.
"But many a rough heart has opened to a golden key--give me my liberty,send me to the Towers, and you shall have gold enough to gratify yourhighest wish; it shall be given with no grudging hand, take this ring asa pledge."
"Bribe not, gal! and think not Bill will strike colours to gold--he hasmore than he wants, keep your ring--and here we are--go in there, andtry not to corrupt my dochter--or gorramighty yer shall swing for it."
With these words he pushed Ellen into a large room, and shut the door.
Baffled a third time, Ellen gave herself up for lost--she staggered intothe room, and threw herself on the first chair, and again gave way tohopeless grief.
"Madam," said a soft voice, "do not distress yourself; bear up, thingsare not so bad as they appear."
Ellen looked up to see the speaker! By her side stood a fair Spanishbeauty, with braided hair, and large lustrous eyes. Ellen was nottotally untinctured with some of the superstitions of her country, andfor a moment she fancied she was an angel sent from heaven; herbeauty--the strange situation she was in--the horrid remembrances of herarrest and drive--all worked on her mind, and she fancied i
t must be avision, and not reality; but angels do not weep--and a tear stood inthe young beauty's eye; she thought she knew the voice too--had heard itbefore--she was in a trance, surely--she would wake, and find it all acreation of her brain?
The room was hung with tapestry, which bent in and out with each gust ofthe wind--it was handsomely, but anciently furnished--everything was ofthe olden date. The room had two narrow windows--a huge old fashionedfireplace--one door only; opposite the windows was a large wardrobe, ofwhich part formed a bookcase. In the far corner of the room were twobeds with curtains of murrey-coloured silks, on which were trimmings,once bright, but now tarnished; several old pictures, hung on the walls,seemed lifelike in the half-gloom, half-glimmer of a solitary lamp onthe large inlaid table in the centre of the room. These thoughts,suggested by the appearance of this fair lady in the ancient lookingroom, took Ellen's mind far shorter time to think of, than it has thewriter to write them. She was awaked from her reverie by the soft voiceagain, "Madam--weep not--distress not yourself so."
"Have pity on me--oh! you have a tender, kind heart--you must have; aface so fair is the mirror of a good heart."
"Hush, lady--my father is at the door--these walls have ears--speak notso loud--and, moreover, do not ask for what I cannot grant. I will tryand make you happy in your confinement,--I can do no more; and, lady,listen, your harsh or kind captivity depends entirely on yourself; ifyou submit without trying to escape, everything that can make you happywill be done for you; if you try either by bribe or subtlety to escape,you will only find harsher gaolers than I am."
"I will trust you then--happy I cannot be, but nothing will harm mewhilst you are here. But, oh! at least tell me why I am confined here;this is a free country, and without law the meanest subject of hisMajesty cannot be imprisoned."
"Alas, lady! I do not even know your name--far less do I know why youare here--I am your guardian only."
"Then God's will be done--you will at least stand by me in my distress."
"And now, madam, will you not retire to rest?--you need fear nothing."
"No, I will not; I trust you--I do not those who are here besides. Iwill not--I could not sleep, and yet I do not fear; I have secreted adagger--see it," she cried, holding a small Indian blade which she hadcontrived to possess herself of unseen by Sir Richard, and which hadbelonged to her eldest brother; "before Ellen Ravensworth submits towrong she will bury this in her heart--death before dishonour."[G]
"Keep it, lady; you may require it yet," said Juana, in a low tone.
"Oh, my God, shield me; but what said you--you do then know why I amhere?"
"I guess, but cannot be certain; keep your weapon, I will not depriveyou of your last resource; but let no one else know of it--there arethose here who would."
The young Spaniard then arose, saying, "You need fear no harmto-night--rest, for you are weary with crying, and terror; I pledge mysacred word no one enters this room to-night."
"Then I will trust you, you could not play me false; but I part not withthee," she said, addressing the dagger; "thou wilt be a sure friend."
The two young girls then retired to rest; Juana slept, not so Ellen, wholay awake the livelong night, conjecturing in vain why she was there.Three things consoled her: first her trust in a higher Power; secondlyher faith in the Earl, who she knew was even then searching for her, andas she could not be very far she had hopes he might soon find her out;her third and last consolation, was the knowledge that in her extremitydeath was in her own power.
Slowly the hours of darkness rolled away--oh! how long they seemed, asshe tossed on her restless pillow, and listened to the heavy fall of thesentinel's step that guarded her room's entrance,--it was probably thefierce-looking old man who she had found out was her companion's father;she was surely a mild offspring from so rough a sire! The more Ellenthought the more inextricable seemed the web she strove to unravel--whywas she there--who had he been who brought her--who were those roughmen, and this fair girl who guarded her? She tried to recall voices shefelt sure she had heard, first her arrestor's, secondly the lady's whoguarded her--she felt sure she had heard both, but where she could notrecollect.
The night passed away slowly, the dawning lightened the room, by-and-bythe sun shone--at last it was a fine day; she slipped from her couch,and hurried to the window. Oh! mystery of mysteries! it was then inCessford's Peel she was confined. Beneath her, forty feet below at theleast, was the green meadow, and the round stone, and the trees andhills beyond; she heard the roar of the burn, now swollen, and strangethoughts flitted through her mind. The scene where she had been so happywas before her, the burn up whose banks she had wandered rushed by; buthow different was her present lot! how inscrutable it seemed! Shereturned, and falling on her knees by her bedside besought God to endthis misery. Doubtless He heard her prayer, but prayers are not alwaysso soon answered as the petitioner expects. Juana awoke too; she was aRoman Catholic, and repeated her devotions after the prescribed form ofher creed; they then dressed, and before long a waiting girl ofsurpassing beauty, but quite of a different order, brought in a simplebreakfast. More and more puzzled was Ellen when she saw this girl'sface--she had surely seen _her_ before! When she had left the room Ellenrecalled the face, it was that of Jeanie Forbes, the country belle towhom she had seen the Marquis talking.
"It is indeed a mystery," she thought; "what if it be a trick of theEarl's to try my fidelity--but no, he couldn't do so--and yet all is sostrange--there must be more than I guess in it--I will wait and see, atthe last I have still the worst, maybe; but at the worst, I have stillthe last friend to end my woe."
Through that day nothing particularly occurred; and again darkness came,again Ellen refused to retire unless she had Juana's word for hersafety; it was given, and that night she actually slept. Another, andanother, and still another day wore by--still she had seen no livingsoul but Juana and Jeanie Forbes, and she began half to lose herfears--half to despair. The first, because long acquaintance with miserynaturally takes off the keenness of its sting, and she was so fullyprepared for the worst, the present seemed quite bright; the last,because several days had now passed, and yet no succour came. Could LordWentworth have waxed cold? Could her father forget, or had some fearfuldeception been practised on them? Left together night and day, the twogirls naturally drew to each other; in everything they were entireopposites, not only in their remote styles of beauty, but in character;and, perhaps, for this reason, like the different electric currents,they attracted each other the more. Juana admired the fair Saxonbeauty, not so much because of her dazzling complexion, so pure andsunny, though now shaded by grief,--not so much from her fair tresses,and melting blue eyes,--as for the high toned principle--the loftymind--firm resolve, and patient endurance she displayed under her tryingordeal; and Ellen admired not so much the ebon hair--large dazzlingeyes--and brilliant colouring of the fair Spaniard, as she did the fullfervour of her character, and the warm affections of one who was--
"Warm as her clime and sunny as her skies."
They used to talk together for hours--generally Ellen was the listener,and much was she absorbed by the wild tales of other zones Juana couldtell. One thing Ellen had ceased to ask, and that was why she was there.Juana seemed above all entreaty, and kept her secret as the rock doesits hidden spring: it required a prophet's stroke to make it unlock itswaters! Days went on, and still no explanation either by word or deedcame. Saturday night wore through, and Sunday morning dawned; Ellen hadnow been a week and more in captivity, and still it was unexplained. Shehad never once been outside the castle, but late on Sunday afternoonJuana told her, if she liked to breathe the fresh air she might come outfor an hour or so with her, on condition she promised she would make noattempt to regain her freedom.
"Alas! to what purpose, Antonia?" replied Ellen, for by this name sheonly knew her; "how could I fly with such strict watchers?"
The two friends--for so they had become--now descended the tower, andwalked on the green grass. It was a d
elightful evening--the sun wassetting among clouds of every gorgeous hue--his orb was then hiddenbehind a dark mass, whose edges were crimsoned by his rays; above thecloud the sky was of the darkest black-blue, and beyond this his beamsshot out in iridescent lines, like the rays that emblazon the heraldicscroll--higher still mackerel clouds floated in the blue ether, dyedgold, and crimson, and between their vistas the unfathomable depths ofair were clear and transparent, so that the eye could pierce their fardeeps, and discern how near the loftiest clouds in comparison floatedabove earth! In the east the full moon was rising, and the cold bluelight of the latter, compared with the warm colouring of the sunset, wasstriking. The friends sat down on the mossy stone, and each for a timeseemed too much occupied with her own thoughts to speak. Ellen wasthinking on the picnic, and how not long ago on a night like this shehad danced on that grass with him she loved. Oh! had any one told herthen that one short month after she would again sit on that stone, aprisoner, and parted from him, she would not have believed it. Juana wasthinking how on that stone she had sat, when she personated the Italian,how he she also loved, but who loved not her, had given her the ring shenow treasured in her bosom.
"Antonia," said Ellen, "a month ago I sat here so happy--alas! I fear Ishall never be so again."
"Miss Ravensworth, a month ago I sat on this stone; I was thenmiserable, I may yet be happy."
"Ah! our circumstances are then altered, but when did you sit herebefore?"
"Often--but this day last month as far as I remember--I sat here veryunhappy!"
"Impossible! a month ago there was a gay picnic here, how could you havebeen here? you were not there."
"Easily; you remember the Italian boy, who played and sung--that boy wasI--is it not now explained?"
"Oh! merciful Heavens--that boy you--yes, I know the voice now. Oh!there is a deep, deep plot! Antonia, if you love me, tell me all. Howstrange! I seem to see things differently. Oh! who are you, mysteriousmaiden?"
"I cannot, remember your promise not to ask me, but the explanation willnot now be distant--to-night it will come. Have you the dagger still?"
"Oh! Antonia, you alarm me; it is true, I was beginning to growforgetful; then, the trial is at hand; you shall see I can be firm todeath!"
"Poor girl, I pity you from my heart!"
"Then, why not let deeds show your pity--let me fly."
"I dare not, lady! I dare not. I was sworn by the blessed Virgin--youwould not I should break my oath!"
"Then, let it come; you will see how Ellen can die, if that death onlysaves her from dishonour!"
"Let me see your blade; is it sharp?"
"Behold it," said Ellen, drawing it forth. The blade was veryelaborately engraved with Indian devices; along the centre was carvedthe owner's name--George Elliot Ravensworth. The steel was verybright--the handle formed of silver finely chased.
"Let me have it in my hands?"
"You won't betray your trust, you won't deprive me of my only, sadcomfort."
"Trust me."
"I will," said Ellen, "falsehood never shaded that fair brow."
Juana took the weapon, and then read the name.
"What! did you say this was your brother's?"
"Yes, my poor George's; he is now dead!"
"Oh, my God!" cried Juana, "and have I lived to see his sister?"
"Antonia, what is this?--surely my life is charmed--what now?"
"Ellen, my own sister--my dearest--noblest--best--beloved sister," andwith her native warmth of character she threw herself on Ellen, andkissed her again and again.
"Antonia, dearest Antonia, what is it all?"
"Enough, moments are priceless; they are near--but there is yet ampletime. Ellen, I will save you, I may compromise my life, but I will saveyou; nay, thank me not now, hear me."
"Noble girl, you shall not; if you save me, you shall be safe too, youwill go with me--nothing shall sever us."
"Listen, Ellen; some of my life I have told you, never this part. When Iwas in America I was once nearly drowned by the upsetting of a boat; Iwas rescued by a noble young officer,--he was your brother George. Iwill not delay by narrating details, suffice to say we became deeply inlove--we were to be married! Lady, I am not what I seem, my blood is ashigh as thine, nay doubtless far higher! but death separated us. Georgedied, I closed his eyes, I followed him to the dark tomb, and there Ileft my heart. I came to England; I was introduced to Lord Wentworth--Iwill not hide any thing--I accepted his love. Oh, I loved him well, andhe loved me too once,--till, lady, he met you again,--he then left me,not as many another would have done, he left me with house and fortune.Nothing could make up for lost love; I became miserable, I then came toScotland. There are those who strive to get us married, for under thatpromise I stooped to become the unhappy woman I did; it was untrue, henever gave me that promise, I was duped, I will not say by whom. Forthis reason, Ellen, you are here; for this reason I became the mockItalian, and secreted near the cave, heard Lord Wentworth propose, andyou accept him, only on condition he never spoke to myself again. Lady,I honour you for it. This is my tale. I am Juana Ferraras! I will saveyou yet; you shall be the happy wife of him you love so well, I willsink to be the deserted, hopeless wreck I was before,--your marriagedestroys my last chance. When you are happy, Ellen, sometimes at such anhour as this, when eve falls drear, you will think of her who partedwith her last hope, who gave up all to make you happy!"
"I will, noble, dear girl, I will; but it shall not so be; you shalllive near us, you shall be like a sister. You Juana Ferraras!--now I seeall."
"It is vain, lady, I could not dwell on the same shore with him--we aresevered for ever. I will not speak to him except once more to procureyour freedom: let us hasten in--time presses--I may be too late--thereis danger near you--be not too sanguine, I will do my best."
The two friends hurried up the stairs: they reached the room, and thenJuana said, "Promise me on your honour you will not leave this chamber;all depends on your staying."
"I will give my word of honour."
"I believe you; now, Ellen, I hasten to perform a deed which will, I amsure, cover a multitude of my errors."
"Adieu! God speed you my noble, dear friend."
"Adieu! I will do what I can--I will do my best--but remember I may betoo late--the way is far, and the hour near. Is your dagger free in itssheath?"
With these ominous words Juana left, after first embracing Ellen like asister, as she might indeed have proved but for George Ravensworth'searly death. When she was gone Ellen bolted the door, and then loosenedher dagger.
"Danger near, and of what kind?" she asked herself. "I am prepared. Oh!my God grant she may arrive in time. Oh, let me not have to die withrescue and hope so near." She then sat down, and thought of all thesestrange events. How wonderful all seemed! How passing strange! Juana herbrother's love--her lover's mistress--the Italian minstrel! How wouldshe rescue her from her coming danger, and what was that danger? Thenshe thought of Juana's noble self-denial, and all for her, because sheloved her departed brother--this was love! With these and a thousandother thoughts her mind was busy, and two hours glided imperceptiblyaway.
The daylight had now quite faded, and in its place the cold beam of themoon shone through the barred lattice, and softly travelled across thefloor. The room was quite light, for the full orb was directly in front,but it was a chilly, ghastly light. Ellen, wrapped in her own thoughts,did not allow her mind to dwell on this, when all at once she thoughtshe heard footsteps on the stairs. It must be fancy; but no! distinctand clear she heard them again. Oh! mercy above; the danger was come,and Juana not returned. It might be the Earl though, and she flew acrossthe room to the door. She heard rude voices! it was not him, and shedouble barred the door.
"At least," she thought, "it will guard me for a time."
She felt if her blade was secure--it was beneath the folds of her dress.She stood in awful suspense, as near the door as she could--thefootsteps drew nearer and several oaths struck her ears. S
he knew thevoice, but in her dismay could not think whose it was--there seemed tobe several men, as far as she could judge, ascending the steps. Theylanded on the passage--another moment of awful agony, of breathlessapprehension, and the handle of the lock was tried.
"Thousand devils, it's bolted. Tony, open wench!" said a harsh voice sheknew to be Antonia's or Juana's father.
No answer, of course.
"Stove it in, you blundering old sea-cook!" said another voice, sherecognized as Captain de Vere's.
"Easy saying so, but hard doing it, by G--," was the reply.
"You bungler! let me try."
An awful crash followed, which made Ellen almost sicken with fear, butthe strong door manfully withstood the charge. Again it was rocked as ifby a battering-ram, again it stood the shock; a confused sound oflaughter and oaths followed.
"I telled you so; the devil himself could scarce stove yon oaken beamsin."
"Fire and furies! what is to be done?--here's a d--d sell--sold by awench."
"Deil a fear; this way, Captain."
The steps faded away, they were gone. Ellen felt sure she was now safe,at least for a time; though she feared they were gone for sledgehammersto force the door. She threw herself on her knees, and thanked God forit. It is not wise to be in too great a hurry to return thanks; thisEllen found, for hardly had she thanked Providence for mercies not yetreceived, than she heard the same footsteps in another part of the room.In dismay at this return, she glanced to see where the sounds came from.There was only one door, the windows and fireplace were barred; butEllen did not know the secrets of her prison-house; behind the arras wasa secret door, to which a winding back stair led, and she only sprungfrom her knees in time to see the tapestry move aside, and from theconcealed door three figures enter her sanctuary. It was with a sicknessof heart indescribable, but not the less acutely felt by those whocannot tell its horror, that she saw in the three intruders the personsof Captain de Vere, Captain L'Estrange, and old Bill Stacy!
The Weird of the Wentworths: A Tale of George IV's Time, Vol. 1 Page 22