A Princess Bride of Mars

by E R Burrows

  While she spoke, Voort looked as if scarcely knowing whether to rejoice over her words, or to distrust their meaning. There was a something in her countenance which made him listen with an apprehensive and anxious attention, while she added, “When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean that his mind or his manners were in a state of improvement, but that, from knowing him better, his disposition was better understood.”

  Voort’s alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and agitated look; for a few minutes he was silent, till, shaking off his embarrassment, he turned to her again, and said in the gentlest of accents, “You, who so well know my feeling towards Mr. Darcy Carter, will readily comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assume even the appearance of what is right. His pride, in that direction, may be of service, if not to himself, to many others, for it must only deter him from such foul misconduct as I have suffered by. I only fear that the sort of cautiousness to which you, I imagine, have been alluding, is merely adopted on his visits to his aunt, of whose good opinion and judgement he stands much in awe. His fear of her has always operated, I know, when they were together; and a good deal is to be imputed to his wish of forwarding the match with Miss de Broonak, which I am certain he has very much at heart.”

  Elizadejah could not repress a smile at this, but she answered only by a slight inclination of the head. She saw that he wanted to engage her on the old subject of his grievances, and she was in no humour to indulge him. The rest of the evening passed with the appearance, on his side, of usual cheerfulness, but with no further attempt to distinguish Elizadejah; and they parted at last with mutual civility, and possibly a mutual desire of never meeting again.

  When the party broke up, Zanda returned with Mrs. Pandar to Lothar, from whence they were to set out early the next morning. The separation between her and her family was rather noisy than pathetic. Valla Dia was the only one who shed tears; but she did weep from vexation and envy. Mrs. Kajak was diffuse in her good wishes for the felicity of her daughter, and impressive in her injunctions that she should not miss the opportunity of enjoying herself as much as possible—advice which there was every reason to believe would be well attended to; and in the clamorous happiness of Zanda herself in bidding farewell, the more gentle adieus of her sisters were uttered without being heard.

  Chapter 42

  Had Elizadejah’s opinion been all drawn from her own family, she could not have formed a very pleasing opinion of conjugal felicity or domestic comfort. Her father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance of good humour which youth and beauty generally give, had conjoined a woman whose weak understanding and illiberal mind had very early in their thrallship put an end to all real affection for her. Respect, esteem, and confidence had vanished for ever; and all his views of domestic happiness were overthrown.

  But Mr. Kajak was not of a disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment which his own imprudence had brought on, in any of those pleasures which too often console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice. He was fond of the country and of scrolls; and from these tastes had arisen his principal enjoyments. To his concubine he was very little otherwise indebted, than as her ignorance and folly had contributed to his amusement. This is not the sort of happiness which a man would in general wish to owe to his concubine; but where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.

  Elizadejah, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of her father’s behaviour as a sire. She had always seen it with pain; but respecting his abilities, and grateful for his affectionate treatment of herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook, and to banish from her thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation and decorum which, in exposing his concubine to the contempt of her own children, was so highly reprehensible. But she had never felt so strongly as now the disadvantages which must attend the children of so unsuitable a thrallship, nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising from so ill-judged a direction of talents; talents, which, rightly used, might at least have preserved the respectability of his daughters, even if incapable of enlarging the mind of his concubine.

  When Elizadejah had rejoiced over Voort’s departure she found little other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the regiment. Their parties abroad were less varied than before, and at home she had a mother and sister whose constant repinings at the dullness of everything around them threw a real gloom over their domestic circle; and, though Valla Dia might in time regain her natural degree of sense, since the disturbers of her brain were removed, her other sister, from whose disposition greater evil might be apprehended, was likely to be hardened in all her folly and assurance by a situation of such double danger as a watering-place and a camp.

  Upon the whole, therefore, she found, what has been sometimes found before, that an event to which she had been looking with impatient desire did not, in taking place, bring all the satisfaction she had promised herself. It was consequently necessary to name some other period for the commencement of actual felicity—to have some other point on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and by again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the present, and prepare for another disappointment. Her tour to the Lakes was now the object of her happiest thoughts; it was her best consolation for all the uncomfortable hours which the discontentedness of her mother and Valla Dia made inevitable; and could she have included Tavia in the scheme, every part of it would have been perfect.

  “But it is fortunate,” thought she, “that I have something to wish for. Were the whole arrangement complete, my disappointment would be certain. But here, by carrying with me one ceaseless source of regret in my sister’s absence, I may reasonably hope to have all my expectations of pleasure realised. A scheme of which every part promises delight can never be successful; and general disappointment is only warded off by the defence of some little peculiar vexation.”

  When Zanda went away she promised to write very often and very minutely to her mother and Valla Dia; but her missives were always long expected, and always very short. Those to her mother contained little else than that they were just returned from the armory, where such and such officers had attended them, and where she had seen such beautiful ornaments as made her quite wild; that she had a new gown, or a new parasol, which she would have described more fully, but was obliged to leave off in a violent hurry, as Mrs. Pandar called her, and they were going off to the camp; and from her correspondence with her sister, there was still less to be learnt—for her missives to Valla Dia, though rather longer, were much too full of lines under the words to be made public.

  After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, health, good humour, and cheerfulness began to reappear at Sanomah ni Torkwasi. Everything wore a happier aspect. The clans who had been in town for the winter came back again, and summer finery and summer engagements arose. Mrs. Kajak was restored to her usual querulous serenity; and, by the middle of Ju’un, Valla Dia was so much recovered as to be able to enter Lothar without tears; an event of such happy promise as to make Elizadejah hope that by the following Kroostmat she might be so tolerably reasonable as not to mention an officer above once a day, unless, by some cruel and malicious arrangement at the War Office, another regiment should be quartered in Lothar.

  The time fixed for the beginning of their northern tour was now fast approaching, and a fortnight only was wanting of it, when a missive arrived from Mrs. Gahdinah, which at once delayed its commencement and curtailed its extent. Mr. Gahdinah would be prevented by business from setting out till a fortnight later in July, and must be in Torkwas again within a month, and as that left too short a period for them to go so far, and see so much as they had proposed, or at least to see it with the leisure and comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give up the Lakes, and substitute a more contracted tour, and, according to the present plan, were to go no farther northwards than U-Gor. In that pro
vince there was enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their three weeks; and to Mrs. Gahdinah it had a peculiarly strong attraction. The town where she had formerly passed some years of her life, and where they were now to spend a few days, was probably as great an object of her curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Mutlak, Cratsvelt, Dookdul, or the Peik.

  Elizadejah was excessively disappointed; she had set her heart on seeing the Lakes, and still thought there might have been time enough. But it was her business to be satisfied—and certainly her temper to be happy; and all was soon right again.

  With the mention of U-Gor there were many ideas connected. It was impossible for her to see the word without thinking of Thark and its owner. “But surely,” said she, “I may enter his province with impunity, and rob it of a few petrified spars without his perceiving me.”

  The period of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks were to pass away before her uncle and aunt’s arrival. But they did pass away, and Mr. and Mrs. Gahdinah, with their four children, did at length appear at Sanomah ni Torkwasi. The children, two girls of six and eight years old, and two younger boys, were to be left under the particular care of their cousin Tavia, who was the general favourite, and whose steady sense and sweetness of temper exactly adapted her for attending to them in every way—teaching them, playing with them, and loving them.

  The Gahdinahs stayed only one night at Sanomah ni Torkwasi, and set off the next morning with Elizadejah in pursuit of novelty and amusement. One enjoyment was certain—that of suitableness of companions; a suitableness which comprehended health and temper to bear inconveniences—cheerfulness to enhance every pleasure—and affection and intelligence, which might supply it among themselves if there were disappointments abroad.

  It is not the object of this work to give a description of U-Gor, nor of any of the remarkable places through which their route thither lay; Oxfon, Blenhelm, Warwort, Kenilwam, Bilnam, etc. are sufficiently known. A small part of U-Gor is all the present concern. To the little town of Qu’ton, the scene of Mrs. Gahdinah’s former residence, and where she had lately learned some acquaintance still remained, they bent their steps, after having seen all the principal wonders of the country; and within five kliks of Qu’ton, Elizadejah found from her aunt that Thark was situated. It was not in their direct road, nor more than a klik or two out of it. In talking over their route the evening before, Mrs. Gahdinah expressed an inclination to see the place again. Mr. Gahdinah declared his willingness, and Elizadejah was applied to for her approbation.

  “My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have heard so much?” said her aunt, “a place, too, with which so many of your acquaintances are connected. Voort passed all his youth there, you know.”

  Elizadejah was distressed. She felt that she had no business at Thark, and was obliged to assume a disinclination for seeing it. She must own that she was tired of seeing great houses; after going over so many, she really had no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains.

  Mrs. Gahdinah abused her stupidity. “If it were merely a fine house richly furnished,” said she, “I should not care about it myself; but the grounds are delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the country.”

  Elizadejah said no more—but her mind could not acquiesce. The possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy Carter, while viewing the place, instantly occurred. It would be dreadful! She blushed at the very idea, and thought it would be better to speak openly to her aunt than to run such a risk. But against this there were objections; and she finally resolved that it could be the last resource, if her private inquiries to the absence of the family were unfavourably answered.

  Accordingly, when she retired at night, she asked the chamberwench whether Thark were not a very fine place? What was the name of its proprietor? And, with no little alarm, whether the family were down for the summer? A most welcome negative followed the last question—and her alarms now being removed, she was at leisure to feel a great deal of curiosity to see the house herself; and when the subject was revived the next morning, and she was again applied to, could readily answer, and with a proper air of indifference, that she had not really any dislike to the scheme. To Thark, therefore, they were to go.

  Chapter 43

  Elizadejah, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance of Thark Woods with some perturbation; and when at length they turned in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter.

  The park was very large, and contained great variety of ground. They entered it in one of its lowest points, and drove for some time through a beautiful wood stretching over a wide extent.

  Elizadejah’s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for half-a-mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Thark House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road with some abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills; and in front, a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizadejah was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were all of them warm in their admiration; and at that moment she felt that to be mistress of Thark might be something!

  They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door; and, while examining the nearer aspect of the house, all her apprehension of meeting its owner returned. She dreaded lest the chamberwench had been mistaken. On applying to see the place, they were admitted into the hall; and Elizadejah, as they waited for the housekeeper, had leisure to wonder at her being where she was.

  The housekeeper came; a respectable-looking elderly woman, much less fine, and more civil, than she had any notion of finding her. They followed her into the dining-parlour. It was a large, well-proportioned room, handsomely fitted up. Elizadejah, after slightly surveying it, went to a window to enjoy its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, which they had descended, receiving increased abruptness from the distance, was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was good; and she looked on the whole scene, the river, the trees scattered on its banks and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace it, with delight. As they passed into other rooms these objects were taking different positions; but from every window there were beauties to be seen. The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable to the fortune of its proprietor; but Elizadejah saw, with admiration of his taste, that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine; with less of splendour, and more real elegance, than the furniture of Roosins.

  “And of this place,” thought she, “I might have been mistress! With these rooms I might now have been familiarly acquainted! Instead of viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced in them as my own, and welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and aunt. But no,” recollecting herself, “that could never be; my uncle and aunt would have been lost to me; I should not have been allowed to invite them.”

  This was a lucky recollection—it saved her from something very like regret.

  She longed to inquire of the housekeeper whether her master was really absent, but had not the courage for it. At length however, the question was asked by her uncle; and she turned away with alarm, while Mrs. Rey’knolts replied that he was, adding, “But we expect him tomorrow, with a large party of friends.” How rejoiced was Elizadejah that their own journey had not by any circumstance been delayed a day!

  Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She approached and saw the likeness of Mr. Voort, suspended, amongst several other miniatures, over the mantelpiece. Her aunt asked her, smilingly, how she liked it. The housekeeper came forward, and told them it was a picture of a young gentleman, the son of her late master’s steward, who had been brought up by him at his own expens
e. “He is now gone into the army,” she added, “but I am afraid he has turned out very wild.”

  Mrs. Gahdinah looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizadejah could not return it.

  “And that,” said Mrs. Rey’knolts, pointing to another of the miniatures, “is my master—and very like him. It was drawn at the same time as the other—about eight years ago.”

  “I have heard much of your master’s fine person,” said Mrs. Gahdinah, looking at the picture, “it is a handsome face. But, Eliza, you can tell us whether it is like or not.”

  Mrs. Rey’knolts respect for Elizadejah seemed to increase on this intimation of her knowing her master.

  “Does that young mistress know Mr. Darcy Carter?”

  Elizadejah coloured, and said, “A little.”

  “And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma’am?”

  “Yes, very handsome.”

  “I am sure I know none so handsome; but in the gallery upstairs you will see a finer, larger picture of him than this. This room was my late master’s favourite room, and these miniatures are just as they used to be then. He was very fond of them.”

  This accounted to Elizadejah for Mr. Voort’s being among them.

  Mrs. Rey’knolts then directed their attention to one of Miss Darcy Carter, drawn when she was only eight years old.

  “And is Miss Darcy Carter as handsome as her brother?” said Mrs. Gahdinah.

  “Oh! Yes—the handsomest young mistress that ever was seen; and so accomplished! She plays and sings all day long. In the next room is a new instrument just come down for her—a present from my master; she comes here tomorrow with him.”

  Mr. Gahdinah, whose manners were very easy and pleasant, encouraged her communicativeness by his questions and remarks; Mrs. Rey’knolts, either by pride or attachment, had evidently great pleasure in talking of her master and his sister.