De Sevignie appeared no longer dejected; his eyes sparkled with their wonted fire; and he was able to answer the raillery of Mademoiselle Chatteneuf with his accustomed spirit. He accepted her invitation to supper; and never had minutes been so delightful to Madeline as those she passed at it. In his looks, as well as words, there was a tenderness, whenever he addressed her, which convinced her of his sincerity. "The tongue (said she to herself), might be taught the language of deceit, but the eyes could never be instructed in it; they have ever been famed for telling truth."
The next morning after breakfast, she and Olivia walked out for the purpose of seeing some of the town, and purchasing some things which she wanted to wear at a large party to which she was to be taken in the evening, and which the Countess had amply given her the means of procuring. They had not proceeded far ere they met de Sevignie.
"Well you are a good creature (said Olivia), for I presume you are coming to pay your devoirs at our house, as I meet you in the high road to it." He made no reply; and she continued, "you shall not however be disappointed of the pleasure of our company; we are going to take a ramble, and will permit you to be our escort."
"Your permission honours me (said he); but I am unfortunately prevented by very particular business from availing myself of it."
"Go, go; you are a shocking creature I declare (cried Olivia); this business is the same with that which prevented your waiting on Mademoiselle Clermont the other morning according to your promise." His letter had been shown, and the reason of it explained to Olivia and her mother.
De Sevignie coloured highly, and looked confused. "You speak sometimes from supposition I fancy," said he to Olivia.
"Not now I can assure (replied she); I know very well that what you have just said to me, is a mere pretext as well as what you wrote to Mam'selle Clermont the other morning."
"Well, allowing that you are right (cried he), what can you infer from my trying to avoid her company and yours? but that I am sensible of the danger I run in being with either; and that, unlike your military heroes, I rather fly from it than brave it."
"You should always have that apprehension of danger about you then (said Olivia), and not ask a lady's permission to wait upon her, and then send a frivolous excuse."
"We are not always collected (cried he), and the reflection of the morning often destroys the resolution of the night." He then bowed and walked away.
The solemn accent in which he had delivered the last words shocked Madeline as much as the alteration in his looks and manner had already done; he was pale and languid; and his eyes, instead of anxiously seeking, assiduously avoided her; while a cool salutation was the only notice he took of her.
"De Sevignie is really one of the most altered beings within those few days I ever knew (said Olivia, as they pursued their way); his conduct is really quite incomprehensible: was he an unfortunate lover, one might be able to account for it; but of that (continued she, looking archly at Madeline), there is little danger."
The pale cheeks of Madeline were instantly crimsoned over; and the distress and confusion she betrayed, precluded all farther raillery from Olivia.
In pity to her companion, who she saw scarcely able to stand, she hastened their return home; and, hoping solitude would enable her to recruit her spirits, under the pretext of dressing, proposed retiring to their respective chambers; a proposal which, as she imagined, was eagerly embraced.
The moment Madeline was alone, the tears, which pride had suppressed in the presence of Olivia, burst forth: but while she wept the alteration in the conduct of de Sevignie, her heart secretly applauded it as a convincing proof of his honour and sensibility. "Either his reason or his situation does not sanction his attachment to me (said she), and he thus delicately, thus feelingly tries to suppress mine by remitting his attentions.
"Never does he now address me with tenderness, but when we accidentally meet, as if thrown off his guard at those moments by surprise: for whenever a meeting might be expected, he shuns it with anxiety; and if it does take place, treats me with the coldest indifference. Oh, let me (she continued), aid his efforts; let me endeavour to expel from my heart an attachment which, it is evident, can only end in unhappiness. Nor is it my own peace alone I shall consider by doing so; no, the peace of my father, dearer to me than life, is also concerned. I promised to my benevolent friend to resist the indulgence of feelings which had a tendency to embitter my tranquillity, and I will not wilfully violate that promise;—no, ye dear and revered preceptors of my youth! ye who, like benignant spirits, have watched over your Madeline, she will not make so ill a return to your care as to yield herself unresistingly a victim to sorrow—if she cannot attain, she will at least try to be deserving of the felicity you wish her!" She sighed heavily as she spoke; certain that that felicity never now could be hers; and that her efforts to conquer her attachment would be vain; when, at the very moment she wished to make them, the object of it was raised higher than ever in her estimation.
She thought not of dressing till Mademoiselle Chatteneuf tapped at her door to know if she was ready: she opened it with much confusion; and, apologizing for her tardiness, hurried on her clothes, and was soon able to attend her to dinner.
The entertainment to which they went in the evening, was pretty much in the stile of that given by Madame Chatteneuf: all the officers and most of the fashionable people in town were assembled; but de Sevignie was not to be seen; his absence did not surprise, but it pained Madeline; she was sure ere she went, that he would not be present, from a fear of meeting her; and she sighed to think a sad necessity existed for his wishing to avoid her. She would not have danced, but from a fear of appearing particular if she refused. Her partner was a stranger; for though M. Chalons was present, he did not, in conformity to his resolution, attempt to engage her; he sought, indeed, to avoid as much as possible the fascination of her looks, which had already made too deep, and, he feared, too lasting an impression on his heart.
The next morning she went with her friends in their coach to pay visits, and take a survey of the town; and the charms of their conversation, joined to the novelty of every thing she saw, insensibly beguiled her sadness. A select party assembled at dinner; de Sevignie was invited, but sent an excuse; the first, Olivia said, they had ever received from him, though they had frequently asked him, as he was not only a favourite of hers, but of her mother.
CHAPTER IX
The sprightly vigour of my youth is fled;
Lonely and sick, on death is all my thought;
Oh! spare, Persephone, this guiltless head;
Love, too much love, is all thy suppliant's fault!
The sadness which marked the brow of Madeline could not escape the notice of Madame Chatteneuf and her daughter; but they were both too delicate to mention it, yet left no effort untried to dissipate it. She had expressed a wish of visiting the Alps: and, in hopes of amusing her, Madame Chatteneuf made her and her daughter take an excursion thither the evening following the day which has already been described, to the cottage of Olivia's nurse.
They set out in a chaise drawn by mules, leaving Madame Chatteneuf engaged at cards with a select party in the banqueting house; and, after travelling about a league, reached the cottage: its situation was romantically beautiful; it stood a little above the foot of a lofty mountain, which was surmounted by others equally tremendous, and overlooked a deep hollow, scattered over with a profusion of wild flowers, darkened by majestic pines, and washed by a clear rivulet, which proceeded from a mountain torrent at some distance: on a little grassy seat before the cottage, the nurse sat working, one of her daughters was milking the goats that browsed around it, and another was seen rambling about the neighbouring heights, gathering the herbs which grew upon them.
The romantic situation of the cottage, the simple appearance of its inhabitants, and their yet more simple occupations, altogether formed a pastoral scene inexpressibly pleasing to Madeline; to whose mind it recalled the scenes she had been
so long accustomed to; and she gazed on it with emotions of tenderness, such as she might have felt on seeing features in a stranger which, by some striking resemblance, suddenly brought to view those of a beloved friend.
The nurse threw aside her work, and her daughters forsook their employments, the moment Olivia descended from the chaise, round whom they gathered with the most rapturous delight. She returned their caresses with affection: and enquired most kindly after the nurse's husband and son.
"A few days ago (replied the good woman), they went higher up the Alps, as usual, to keep flocks for the rich herdsmen during the summer months. Winter (she continued), winter, my dear young lady, is my season of happiness, for then I have all my family assembled about me, and we enjoy together the earnings of industry."
Olivia now led Madeline into the house, the interior neatness of which perfectly corresponded with that of its exterior; and from thence into the garden, a wild and romantic spot, which, with a small vineyard, stretched midway up a steep ascent, broken into a variety of grotesque hollows.
—————Moss-lin'd, and over head,
By flowering umbrage shaded, where the bee
Stray'd diligent, and with th' extracted balm
Of fragrant woodbine fill'd his little thigh.
Oh how noble, how sublime did the prospect appear which Madeline now viewed! she felt struck with astonishment and veneration as she cast her eyes towards the summits of the congregated mountains piled before her; and her heart was more exalted than ever towards the author of such glorious, such stupendous works,
—THE PARENT OF GOOD, ALMIGHTY—
Her fancy pictured the exquisite pleasure which would be derived from exploring their sequestered solitudes; or, on the wings of the morning, penetrating to their innermost recesses. With mingled curiosity and enthusiasm, her mind soothed and delighted, she wandered about, till followed by the nurse, entreating her to sit down and partake with Mam'selle Olivia of the fruit and cream she had brought out for them.
She complied with the entreaties of the good woman, and seated herself by her friend in one of the little hollows already mentioned, which was impregnated with the most delicious fragrance from the herbs that grew about it.
The dun shades of twilight were now beginning to steal o'er the prospect, and touched it with a sombre colouring, which rendered its beauty more interesting, and its solemnity more awful; the gloom, however, was still a little cheered by a yellow track of radiance which the sun, as it revealed its sinking orb between two parted cliffs above, cast along the projection of the hills; but by degrees this radiance faded away, and then the damp and dreary shadows, that had been gathering below, began to ascend; and, as if warned of their approach, the distant tinkling of sheep bells was immediately heard from the heights, intermingled with the rustic melody of shepherds' pipes. Delighted with those pastoral sounds, the enthusiasm of Madeline's soul revived; and with the eye of fancy she beheld the grand, the wonderful, the luxuriant spots from whence they descended. She saw the simple herdsman penning his flock for the night; while his dog, the faithful partner of his toil, as if endued with more than common instinct, watched beside, that none should straggle from the fold. She heard with the ear of fancy the neighbouring shepherds enquiring how each had fared throughout the day; and beheld some hastening to their romantically situated cottages; while others laid them down beneath the shelter of embowering pines; the last beams of the sun glimmering o'er all, as if loath to quit such scenes of innocence and beauty. It was now indeed a time particularly adapted for such fancies as she indulged; a time when all
The fragrant hours, and Elves
Who slept in flowers the day,
And many a nymph who wreaths her brows with sedge,
And sheds the fresh'ning dew; and lovelier still,
The pensive pleasures sweet,
Prepare the shadowy car of eve.
A tender melancholy began to steal over the mind of Madeline; nor was Olivia's entirely free from it: 'twas a melancholy in union with the scene, and which taste and sensibility are so apt to feel and to indulge; as the landscape, that charmed by day, gradually fades upon the sight, and, to the moralizing mind, presents an emblem of the transitory pleasures of life. Silence had returned many minutes ere Olivia or Madeline thought of stirring; they were at length rising for the purpose of departing, when they were again riveted to their seat by the soft breathings of an oboe, which seemed to come from some cliff above them at no great distance. The air was simple, tender, and pathetic; and played in a stile which evinced exquisite taste and feeling in the performer.
"How soft, how sweet, how melodious (cried Mademoiselle Chatteneuf, during the pause of a minute, for till then she and Madeline had been wrapped in attention too profound to permit them either to speak or move), what pathos, what masterly execution: but hark! the echoes revive the strains which we imagined had utterly died away; they seem celestial strains, and almost tempt one to believe the tales of the poets, and ascribe them to the genii of these mountains."
"Lord a mercy, my dear young lady (said the nurse, who only caught the last sentence), what a conceit! from a genius indeed; no, they come from a poor young gentleman, who frequently rambles about the heights, playing such mournful ditties as often and often makes me and my girls weep; and we think, to be sure, he has been crossed in love, and that nothing else could make him so melancholy, and so fond of being alone, and sitting for hours together in the deepest solitude by himself; and a pity it is he should have met with any thing to trouble him, he is so gentle and so handsome, and looks so good."
"Do you know his name?" asked Olivia, whose curiosity was strongly excited.
"No, Mam'selle; but I know he comes from V——, for I asked him one day if he did not, and he said yes."
"And pray how came you to have any conversation with him?" enquired Olivia.
"Why one day, Mam'selle, about a fortnight after I had first noticed him, as he was passing the cottage, he appeared very much fatigued; so I asked him, for I was sitting before the door at work, if he would be pleased to walk in and take some whey; he thanked me courteously, and accepted my invitation, and sat a good bit with me chatting, for all the world with as much affability as if he did not think himself a bit better than me; so, from that time, he seldom comes this way without giving me a call, and frequently takes whey and fruit in the cottage; for which, indeed, in spite of all I can say, he will always pay more than they are worth."
"Is it possible to get a glimpse of him?" asked Olivia.
"Dear heart yes, if you stay a little longer; this is about the time he generally returns to town, and he almost always descends by the path near this recess."
"I will stay a few minutes longer to try if I can see him," said Olivia.
"Pray do not (exclaimed Madeline, laying her hand, which trembled violently, upon Olivia's arm); the darkness increases fast, and if we stay much longer, we shall be quite benighted."
"No, no, there's no danger of that (replied Olivia); but if you wish it I will return immediately: dismiss however, I beseech you, the terrors you have conjured up to alarm you; for if you tremble in this manner, you will scarcely be able to reach the chaise."
It was not any apprehension of danger however which agitated the soul of Madeline, it was the agony of thinking that de Sevignie was the sad and solitary mourner to whose sweet and melancholy strains she had been listening; for in the air she heard she perfectly recollected one she had taught him during his visit at her father's house; and she wished to avoid his presence, least she should betray the emotions a knowledge of his dejection had inspired. Again she pressed Olivia to depart; who, in compliance with her wishes, was moving from the spot, when the nurse hastily exclaimed, "Stop, Mam'selle, stop, he's coming now, for there's his dog. Ah, 'tis a good-natured soul (cried she, patting the head of a large spaniel which suddenly sprung into the garden, and fawned about her); he is a faithful companion to his poor master, and attends him in all his rambles: ther
e he sits for hours at a time, upon a point of rock beside him, looking up in his face while he plays upon the oboe, like any christian, as if he knew his sorrows, and pitied them."
"I think I know that dog," said Olivia.
"Aye, like enough (cried the nurse); and see there comes his master."
Olivia raised her eyes; but the light was too imperfect to let her discern the features of the person descending: but in a few minutes, as he drew nearer, she started, and exclaimed—"Gracious heaven, de Sevignie!" Madeline withdrew her hand involuntarily from Olivia, and reseated herself.
"I thought, indeed (said Olivia), it could be no other than de Sevignie, when I heard of an eccentric being always wandering about those solitudes. Pray (continued she, while overpowered by confusion and surprise, he stood transfixed to the spot where he had first beheld her), have you yet chosen a cell for your retirement? for I suppose you will soon renounce the world and its vanities for ever. But seriously, de Sevignie, 'tis rather unfortunate that you and I should lately have only met at periods when (at least) one of us wished to avoid the other."
His confusion, if possible increased; he knew she alluded to his conduct the last time they had met. "If I ever harboured such a wish (said he), it was because, as I have already told you, I apprehended danger in your company."
As he spoke, his eyes glanced round as if in search of another object, and at last rested on the recess where Madeline sat, whose white robe rendered her conspicuous.
The Complete Northanger Horrid Novel Collection (9 Books of Gothic Romance and Horror) Page 287