"If you have any thing important to learn from, or to disclose to the Abbess," resumed the Monk, "your arrival this day may be termed unfortunate; as when the solemnities of our church are over, the day is uniformly dedicated to innocent festivity, in which the Superior herself condescends to join. A feast is always prepared on this occasion in the refectoire of the convent, at which she also presides, and a number of Friars, particularly those of the Benedictine fraternity, and pilgrims are admitted. No business of any kind is allowed to be transacted this day, which is rendered not only sacred, but glorious, from its having entitled a beautiful spirit to that eternal reward, which will be conferred upon those, who, from motives of piety, resign the follies and vanities of the world."
"But if I only interpose in the cause of oppressed innocence," returned the Conte, "and endeavour to steal some hours of sorrow from the heart which has too long felt its influence; if my business is to bestow comfort upon those, from whom it has been long withheld, surely this cannot be called an intrusion upon the rites of their festivity."
"These arguments will have but little weight on the present occasion, I fear," replied the Monk, thoughtfully; "and, perhaps, if your request is forwarded with so little discretion, it may meet with a refusal, or, if otherwise, not with that degree of attention which it may merit. If you will take my advice, you will remain here to-night. In this monastery the stranger and the pilgrim are always received with hospitality; and, although the mode of life we have embraced excludes us from what are generally esteemed the comforts of life, we have at least the power of bestowing them upon others. And as to the Lady," continued the Friar, turning a look of inquiry towards Laurette, "I will introduce her to the convent, where she will be allowed to remain till the morrow."
Laurette courtesied meekly, and having thanked the Father for his attention with that elegance of expression peculiar to herself, awaited the result of the conference. Upon mature deliberation, the plan, which was marked out for them by the Friar, was adhered to; and the carriage being stationed at the outer gate, it was mutually agreed, that the party should remove to some inn, or cottage, capable of affording them accommodations till the evening, when they proposed to accept the kind invitation of the Monk, who promised to introduce them on their return to his Abbot, a man of exemplary goodness and piety. Doomed a little longer to suffer the pangs of procrastinated happiness, our travellers again entered the carriage, and soon arrived at a small, but cleanly, hotel, in which comfortable situation they obtained the rest and refreshment they required.
Laurette being much fatigued, at the joint request of Enrico and the Conte della Croisse, consented to retire, and to endeavour, at least, to obtain some repose; but the exquisite sensibility of her nature prevented the approach of sleep; the idea of Madame Chamont, and the scene she had just witnessed, which called forth all the soft, as well as all the sublime emotions of her soul, pressed too much upon her thoughts; and though she wished to steal into a transient forgetfulness, that by salutary rest she might be better enabled to meet, with becoming fortitude and composure, the tender scene that awaited her, she found it could not be effected; and when informed that the carriage was in readiness to convey them to the convent, she arose without having once yielded to repose, and prepared to obey the summons.
Having satisfied the master of the hotel, they drove from the door, and arrived at the gate of the monastery just as vespers were concluded.
The benevolent Friar, who had been some time in waiting to receive his guests, advanced forwards to meet them, and having conducted them into a lofty apartment adjoining the refectoire, introduced them to the Abbot. By him they were welcomed with that superior kind of courtesy, which is not always attached to the manners of the recluse; offering them at the same time an asylum in his monastery till the business which had directed them thither was accomplished; and also to conduct Laurette to that part of the convent inhabited by the Nuns, where, he assured her, she would meet with all due respect and attention, which, he observed, alluding to her languid appearance, seemed to be necessary. Laurette, who considered that if she prolonged her stay at the monastery after what the holy Father had said, she might be looked upon by the fraternity as an intruder, after many acknowledgments of gratitude, consented to accompany him. As they crossed the spacious area, which directed her so near to her long-lost friend, all composure forsook her; and she looked round with solicitude, in hopes of being able to distinguish her among a party of novices, who, with their veils partly drawn aside, were walking, as if in earnest conversation, along the winding paths of the shrubberies.
As soon as she had gained admittance into the interior of the cloister, a message was sent from the Abbot to the Superior, requesting that she would take a female stranger under her protection till the ensuing morning. An answer was immediately returned expressive of the most hearty welcome, which was delivered by one of the pensioners, who, attended by a Nun, came to conduct her into the parlour of the convent.
Music, heard from a distant part of the edifice, convinced Laurette that the festivities were not over; and being unwilling to detain those who were constrained by situation to endure a life of austerity and mortification from the means of occasional enjoyment, she besought them to leave her alone; assuring the Nun, who was the most assiduously attentive to her, that she should be enabled to procure a sufficient degree of amusement from the novelty of the objects.
As it had been previously determined, that the Conte della Croisse, after having gained an audience with the Abbess, should unfold his welcome intelligence to Madame Chamont with all imaginable care and circumspection, Laurette resolved to conceal herself as much as possible from the rest of the Nuns; and having failed in her design of dismissing the sister, whose office it was more particularly to attend upon strangers, she pleaded weariness and indisposition, and requested to be conveyed to her apartment.
CHAPTER VII
Come, pensive Nun, devout and pure.
Sober, stedfast, and demure.
All in a robe of darkest grain.
Flowing with majestic rain.
And sable stole of cyprus lawn.
Over thy decent shoulders drawn;
Come, but keep thy wonted state.
Even step, and musing gait.
And looks commencing with the skies.
Thy wrapped soul sitting in thine eyes.
-MILTON
As soon as Laurette arose, she received an invitation from the Abbess to attend her in the breakfast-parlour, which was delivered by the Nun who had directed her to her chamber on the preceding night, distinguished from the rest by the name of sister Monica. Having returned this mark of politeness with her accustomed grace, she followed her conductor down the principal staircase, and was ushered into the presence of the Superior, who arose on her entrance, and, with an air of dignified gentleness, offered her a place by the fire. Laurette blushed deeply at the awkwardness of her situation, being thus led into the presence of a stranger without any previous introduction, who, she considered, might possibly form an opinion of her by no means to her advantage.
Having accepted her offer with a degree of modest diffidence, which rather augmented than detracted from the natural elegance of her manners, she awaited, with mingled anxiety and impatience, the arrival of the Conte della Croisse.
Her wishes were uot long protracted; for scarcely had they partaken of the morning's refreshment, before the Conte, attended by the Abbot, after a short message to signify their intention, entered the room. Laurette being aware of the necessity of leaving them alone, and observing that some of the Nuns, among whom was sister Monica, were walking in a grove of acacia and mountain ash, that overshadowed the edge of the lawn, which the window of the convent-parlour commanded, gained the Abbess's permission to retire, and hastened to join them, rather wishing for the moment to avoid Madame Chamont than to meet with her, lest the sudden surprise might be too powerful to be sustained with fortitude. It was a clear frosty morning in the begi
nning of December; the air was excessively chill, but the range of hills that almost encompassed the monastery, as well as the high walls which bounded the gardens, sheltered its inhabitants from those bleak and petrifying winds, which are so much dreaded in mountainous countries. The party of Nuns seemed to regard Laurette with a gaze of curiosity as she approached, frequently turning to observe her as she moved pensively through the avenues; whilst sister Monica, who was apparently solicitous to conciliate her esteem by the gentle offices of courtesy, advanced forwards to meet her, offering at the same time to show her all that was worthy of notice in the gardens, as far as the austerity of her rules permitted her.
Though secluded in this religious retirement from earliest youth, this Nun understood and respected the laws of politeness; and though there was much in the appearance of her new acquaintance to excite an interest in her concerns, she forbore to infringe upon them by minute interrogation. The rest of the Nuns having taken a contrary direction, Laurette was left alone with sister Monica, who beguiled the moments of suspense by leading her through the grounds allotted to the vestals, which displayed through the neglected wildness of the whole some vestiges of antique taste, perfectly in unison with the whole of the structure, which, she was informed, had formerly belonged to a suppressed society of a less modern institution than that of the reformed Benedictine Nuns of the congregation of Mount Calvary, which she learned, upon Inquiry, was newly founded by Madame Antonia, of Orleans, Princess of France.
By this communicative Nun Laurette was made acquainted with many anecdotes connected with the lives of several of the present inhabitants of the cloister, to which she listened with eager attention, being in momentary expectation of obtaining some intelligence relative to her maternal friend; but on her sad story the sister never touched, from which it appeared that she was either totally unacquainted with it, or that some primary cause prevented her from reverting to it. Though sister Monica possessed nothing of that childish levity, with which the manners of youth are sometimes infected, there was a certain vivarnty of expression and a certain correspondent look attending it, unobseured by the gloom of a convent, which rendered her a very interesting and pleasing companion; and Laurette, who, from the natural gentleness of demeanour she displayed on a first introduction, had beheld her with partiality, now experienced an increasing sentiment of affection in her favour.
As they walked slowly through the gardens, Laurette could not forbear expressing her surprise at the wildness and neglect which was every where visible; at the same time remarking, that those places consecrated to religion which had hitherto fallen under her observation, had generally exhibited a very different appearance.
"This will easily be accounted for," returned the Nun, "when you are informed that the Superior of this convent, though in other respects almost unexceptional, in every species of goodness, allows her mind to be contaminated with one vice, whose baleful influence deprives her of that respectful regard which would otherwise be paid to her virtues; namely, that of an inordinate love of wealth. This feverish and ever-growing desire has been productive of many serious distresses, not only to those who are under her immediate protection, but extending also to herself. It has occasioned her to exist in a state of continual warfare between duty and inclination. She is sensible of the danger of this augmenting attachment; but wants firmness and zeal to subdue it. This foible, or this vice," resumed the sister, "for it deserves no softer appellation, has not only blunted the natural edge of her sensibility, which I have frequently heard her declare was too acute to be endured, but it has weakened her judgment, and by constant and guilty indulgence has checked the active benevolence of her nature, which might otherwise have been directed to the noblest purposes. But I am wandering widely from my subject," continued the Nun, sportively, "and must endeavour to return to it." She then gave Laurette an accurate account of every curiosity the gardens contained, which were numerous, and from the antiquity of appearance which the whole of them discovered, might be said to merit observation.
Having rambled over a considerable part of the grounds, a walk, conducting them through several little picturesque windings, directed them into what the Nun termed the wilderness, which, from its disordered and uncultivated state, might be allowed to deserve the name which the recluse had bestowed upon it. A path was, however, cut among the trees; and several recesses, in which were placed seats of wood, or wicker work, frequently presented themselves. Laurette, at the desire of her friend, took possession of one of them, and was informed by her that this little melancholy retreat was a favourite resort with the greater part of the society, who were probably walking towards the contrary end, or had seated themselves in one of those little summer recesses which were made for their accommodation. "Some of them I hear not far distant," resumed sister Monica; "speak low, or they will overhear our conversation."
She had no sooner made this remark than the sound of approaching voices proved the truth of the assertion; and two Nuns, the one in her novitiate state, and the other in her veiled one, moved slowly beneath the thick plantation of firs that guarded the entrance, and then advanced towards the arbour in which they were seated. Laurette did not immediately perecive them, till her new acquaintance pulling her gently by the sleeve, said, "They are here. This nearest the recess is she who was professed yesterday; and on the contrary side is sister Juliana; they are inseparables; if we remain here a moment we shall see them pass."
She had scarcely ceased speaking before they came up close to the arched tree under which Laurette and the sister Monica were seated. As soon as they had arrived within a few steps of the bench, the newly-professed Nun, after having given them a transient survey, courtesied meekly, and passed on; whilst her companion, who was much taller, moved pensively by her side with a mournful and dejected air, without once lifting her eyes from the ground on which they appeared to have been riveted. She had now, however, advanced many paces before she turned, and raising her veil, that entirely covered her features, discovered a face which Laurette imagined, from the cursory survey she had obtained, was Madame Chamont's. But the hasty manner in which the veil was replaced, and the obscurity of her own situation did not allow her to be certain. Scarcely had she recovered from the agitation this incident had occasioned, before one of the pensioners advanced with a hurried step towards the sisters, and addressing herself to the novice, informed her that she was wanted immediately in the apartment of the Superior, where a person, whose business was of merit, was in waiting to see her.
"To see me!" returned a voice, which Laurette instantly discovered to be that of Madame Chamont, though it was rendered tremulous by surprise; "who can want me?" The pathetic energy of her articulation, and the corrected sadness of her manners, as she turned towards the messenger, pressed forcibly upon the heart of Laurette; and but for the necessity of submitting her inclination to the dictates of prudence, she would gladly have thrown herself into her arms, and have acquainted her, without reserve, with the happiness that awaited her.
As soon as the Nuns had retired from the wilderness, Laurette ventured to inquire of sister Monica how long the novice, to whom the message was delivered, had been resident in the convent; and was informed somewhat above a year.
"Do you know any thing of her story?" rejoined Laurette.
"I am not in her confidence," returned the sister; "but this circumstance, as it does not detract from her worth, does not lessen her in my estimation, as she has doubtless some secret reason to justify the strict silence as to her former life, family, and connexions, which she has hitherto preserved; and, notwithstanding this secrecy, she is more beloved than the rest of the sisterhood, though though I do not imagine any of them, not even the Nun to whom she is most attached, are better informed upon the subject than myself."
They had now passed through the wilderness, and were conducted by a gentle descent into a little rocky recess, which appeared like a natural cave. This perfectly coincided with the rest of the grounds; for the entran
ce was so wild, that it was with difficulty they were enabled to proceed. After some little exertion they, however, accomplished their design; and entering this little romantic dell, placed themselves upon a stone seat, which was encrusted with moss, whilst the number of weeds, and self-planted shrubs, that waved from the brow of the arch, contributed to the correspondent gloom of its appearance. Here they paused for some moments, listening, with tender, yet melancholy sensation, to the murmur of a tinkling rill, which was heard falling in gentle meanders among the channels of the neighbouring hills. There was something in this soothing sound which reminded Laurette of the past, of those days of juvenile delight, which she had spent at the castle of Elfinbach, whose spacious domain contained a wild and solitary spot riot unlike her present situation, where she had often listened to the sad cadence of a waterfall in the stillness of the evening. This brought to her recollection the feelings connected with these memories, the numerous hopes, fears, and anxieties that had oppressed and agitated her bosom, and the gloomy hours of retrospection which she had afterwards suffered when those days were remembered.
Wherever we have a kindred melody.
The scene recurs, and with it all its pleasures and its cares.
But the future, since she had now a generous protector who would never forsake her, presented only visions of happiness; and at times she found it as difficult to support that uniform calmness of mind, which ever accompanies the greatness in the midst of expected felicity, as to endure that appalling malignity with which fortune had hitherto treated her.
As soon as they had retired from this lonely dell, they proceeded through a vista towards the western lawn, which presented nothing worthy of attention, except a large ancient cross, which was erected in the centre. When arrived at the base of this sacred memento, sister Monica numbered the beads upon her rosary, and then prostrated herself before it; whilst Laurette, after bowing humbly as she advanced towards it, paused for a few minutes to examine the figures which were represented upon the pedestal, and the rudely-formed characters, which age had long since obscured, and now nearly obliterated. The steps, "which holy knees had worn", were almost sunk into the earth; the stones were fractured and discoloured, and overgrown with several vegetable encrustations; and though preserved by superstition from actual decay, were broken and deranged by time.
The Complete Northanger Horrid Novel Collection (9 Books of Gothic Romance and Horror) Page 369