The Adventures of Sir Launcelot Greaves

by T. Smollett

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  EXHIBITING AN INTERVIEW, WHICH, IT IS TO BE HOPED, WILL INTEREST THECURIOSITY OF THE READER.

  The mind of the delicate Aurelia was strangely agitated by theintelligence which she received with her pocket-book from Dolly.Confounded as she was by the nature of her situation, she at onceperceived that she could not, with any regard to the dictates ofgratitude, refuse complying with the request of Sir Launcelot; but, inthe first hurry of her emotion, she directed Dolly to beg, in her name,that she might be excused for wearing a mask at the interview which hedesired, as she had particular reasons, which concerned her peace, forretaining that disguise. Our adventurer submitted to this preliminarywith a good grace, as he had nothing in view but the injunction of hisorder, and the duties of humanity; and he was admitted without furtherpreamble.

  When he entered the room, he could not help being struck with thepresence of Aurelia. Her stature was improved since he had seen her; hershape was exquisitely formed; and she received him with an air ofdignity, which impressed him with a very sublime idea of her person andcharacter. She was no less affected at the sight of our adventurer, who,though cased in armour, appeared with his head uncovered; and theexercise of travelling had thrown such a glow of health and vivacity onhis features, which were naturally elegant and expressive, that we willventure to say, there was not in all England a couple that excelled thisamiable pair in personal beauty and accomplishments. Aurelia shone withall the fabled graces of nymph or goddess; and to Sir Launcelot might beapplied what the divine poet Ariosto says of the Prince Zerbino:

  Natura il fece e poi ruppe la stampa When Nature stamp'd him, she the die destroy'd.

  Our adventurer having made his obeisance to this supposed Miss Meadows,told her, with an air of pleasantry, that although he thought himselfhighly honoured in being admitted to her presence, and allowed to pay hisrespects to her, as superior beings are adored, unseen; yet his pleasurewould receive a very considerable addition, if she would be pleased towithdraw that invidious veil, that he might have a glimpse of thedivinity which it concealed. Aurelia immediately took off her mask,saying with a faltering accent, "I cannot be so ungrateful as to denysuch a small favour to a gentleman who has laid me under the mostimportant obligations."

  The unexpected apparition of Miss Aurelia Darnel, beaming with all theemanations of ripened beauty, blushing with all the graces of the mostlovely confusion, could not but produce a violent effect upon the mind ofSir Launcelot Greaves. He was, indeed, overwhelmed with a mingledtransport of astonishment, admiration, affection, and awe. The colourvanished from his cheeks, and he stood gazing upon her, in silence, withthe most emphatic expression of countenance.

  Aurelia was infected by his disorder. She began to tremble, and theroses fluctuated on her face. "I cannot forget," said she, "that I owemy life to the courage and humanity of Sir Launcelot Greaves, and that heat the same time rescued from the most dreadful death a dear andvenerable parent."--"Would to Heaven she still survived!" cried ouradventurer, with great emotion. "She was the friend of my youth, thekind patroness of my felicity! My guardian angel forsook me when sheexpired! Her last injunctions are deep engraver on my heart!"

  While he pronounced these words, she lifted her handkerchief to her faireyes, and, after some pause, proceeded in a tremulous tone, "I hope, sir,--I hope you have--I should be sorry--Pardon me, sir, I cannot reflectupon such an interesting subject unmoved"--Here she fetched a deep sigh,that was accompanied by a flood of tears; while the knight continued tobend his eyes upon her with the utmost eagerness of attention.

  Having recollected herself a little, she endeavoured to shift theconversation: "You have been abroad since I had the pleasure to see you--I hope you were agreeably amused in your travels."--"No, madam," saidour hero, drooping his head; "I have been unfortunate." When she, withthe most enchanting sweetness of benevolence, expressed her concern tohear he had been unhappy, and her hope that his misfortunes were not pastremedy; he lifted up his eyes, and fixing them upon her again, with alook of tender dejection, "Cut off," said he, "from the possession ofwhat my soul held most dear, I wished for death, and was visited bydistraction. I have been abandoned by my reason--my youth is for everblasted."

  The tender heart of Aurelia could bear no more--her knees began tototter, the lustre vanished from her eyes, and she fainted in the arms ofher attendant. Sir Launcelot, aroused by this circumstance, assistedDolly in seating her mistress on a couch, where she soon recovered, andsaw the knight on his knees before her. "I am still happy," said he, "inbeing able to move your compassion, though I have been held unworthy ofyour esteem."--"Do me justice," she replied; "my best esteem has beenalways inseparably connected with the character of Sir LauncelotGreaves."--"Is it possible?" cried our hero; "then surely I have noreason to complain. If I have moved your compassion, and possess youresteem, I am but one degree short of supreme happiness--that, however, isa gigantic step. O Miss Darnel! when I remember that dear, thatmelancholy moment."--So saying he gently touched her hand, in order topress it to his lips, and perceived on her finger the very individualring which he had presented in her mother's presence, as an interchangedtestimony of plighted faith. Starting at the well-known object, thesight of which conjured up a strange confusion of ideas, "This," said he,"was once the pledge of something still more cordial than esteem."Aurelia, blushing at this remark, while her eyes lightened with unusualvivacity, replied, in a severer tone, "Sir, you best know how it lost itsoriginal signification."--"By Heaven! I do not, madam!" exclaimed ouradventurer. "With me it was ever held a sacred idea throned within myheart, cherished with such fervency of regard, with such reverence ofaffection, as the devout anchorite more unreasonably pays to thosesainted reliques that constitute the object of his adoration."--"And,like those reliques," answered Miss Darnel, "I have been insensible of myvotary's devotion. A saint I must have been, or something more, to knowthe sentiments of your heart by inspiration."

  "Did I forbear," said he, "to express, to repeat, to enforce the dictatesof the purest passion that ever warmed the human breast, until I wasdenied access, and formally discarded by that cruel dismission?"--"I mustbeg your pardon, sir," cried Aurelia, interrupting him hastily, "I knownot what you mean."--"That fatal sentence," said he, "if not pronouncedby your own lips, at least written by your own fair hand, which drove meout an exile for ever from the paradise of your affection."--"I wouldnot," she replied, "do Sir Launcelot Greaves the injury to suppose himcapable of imposition; but you talk of things to which I am an utterstranger. I have a right, sir, to demand of your honour, that you willnot impute to me your breaking off a connexion, which--I would--ratherwish--had never"----"Heaven and earth! what do I hear?" cried ourimpatient knight; "have I not the baleful letter to produce? What elsebut Miss Darnel's explicit and express declaration could have destroyedthe sweetest hope that ever cheered my soul; could have obliged me toresign all claim to that felicity for which alone I wished to live; couldhave filled my bosom with unutterable sorrow and despair; could have evendivested me of reason, and driven me from the society of men, a poor,forlorn, wandering lunatic, such as you see me now prostrate at yourfeet; all the blossoms of my youth withered, all the honours of my familydecayed?"

  Aurelia looking wishfully at her lover, "Sir," said she, "you overwhelmme with amazement and anxiety! you are imposed upon, if you have receivedany such letter. You are deceived, if you thought Aurelia Darnel couldbe so insensible, ungrateful, and--inconstant."

  This last word she pronounced with some hesitation, and a downcast look,while her face underwent a total suffusion, and the knight's heart beganto palpitate with all the violence of emotion. He eagerly imprinted akiss upon her hand, exclaiming, in interrupted phrase, "Can it bepossible?--Heaven grant--Sure this is no illusion!--O madam!--shall Icall you my Aurelia? My heart is bursting with a thousand fond thoughtsand presages. You shall see that dire paper which has been the source ofall my woes--it is the constant companion of my travels-
-last night Inourished my chagrin with the perusal of its horrid contents."

  Aurelia expressed great impatience to view the cruel forgery, for suchshe assured him it must be. But he could not gratify her desire, tillthe arrival of his servant with the portmanteau. In the meantime, teawas called. The lovers were seated. He looked and languished; sheflushed and faltered. All was doubt and delirium, fondness and flutter.Their mutual disorder communicated itself to the kind-heartedsympathising Dolly, who had been witness to the interview, and deeplyaffected at the disclosure of the scene. Unspeakable was her surprise,when she found her mistress, Miss Meadows, was no other than thecelebrated Aurelia Darnel, whose eulogium she had heard so eloquentlypronounced by her sweetheart, Mr. Thomas Clarke; a discovery which stillmore endeared her lady to her affection. She had wept plentifully at theprogress of their mutual explanation, and was now so disconcerted, thatshe scarce knew the meaning of the orders she had received. She set thekettle on the table, and placed the tea-board on the fire. Herconfusion, by attracting the notice of her mistress, helped to relieveher from her own embarrassing situation. She, with her own delicatehands, rectified the mistake of Dolly, who still continued to sob, andsaid, "Yau may think, my Leady Darnel, as haw I'aive yeaten hool-cheese;but it y'an't soa. I'se think, vor mai peart, as how I'aive beanbewitched."

  Sir Launcelot could not help smiling at the simplicity of Dolly, whosegoodness of heart and attachment Aurelia did not fail to extol, as soonas her back was turned. It was in consequence of this commendation,that, the next time she entered the room, our adventurer, for the firsttime, considered her face, and seemed to be struck with her features. Heasked her some questions, which she could not answer to his satisfaction;applauded her regard for her lady, and assured her of his friendship andprotection. He now begged to know the cause that obliged his Aurelia totravel at such a rate, and in such an equipage; and she informed him ofthose particulars which we have already communicated to our reader.

  Sir Launcelot glowed with resentment, when he understood how his dearAurelia had been oppressed by her perfidious and cruel guardian. He bithis nether lip, rolled his eyes around, started from his seat, andstriding across the room, "I remember," said he, "the dying words of herwho now is a saint in heaven: 'That violent man, my brother-in-law, whois Aurelia's sole guardian, will thwart her wishes with every obstaclethat brutal resentment and implacable malice can contrive.' Whatfollowed, it would ill become me to repeat. But she concluded with thesewords: 'The rest we must leave to the dispensations of Providence.' Wasit not Providence that sent me hither to guard and protect the injuredAurelia?" Then turning to Miss Darnel, whose eyes streamed with tears,he added, "Yes, divine creature! Heaven, careful of your safety, and incompassion to my sufferings, hath guided me hither, in this mysteriousmanner, that I might defend you from violence, and enjoy this transitionfrom madness to deliberation, from despair to felicity."

  So saying, he approached this amiable mourner, this fragrant flower ofbeauty, glittering with the dew-drops of the morning; this sweetest, andgentlest, loveliest ornament of human nature. He gazed upon her withlooks of love ineffable; he sat down by her; he pressed her soft hand inhis; he began to fear that all he saw was the flattering vision of adistempered brain; he looked and sighed, and, turning up his eyes toheaven, breathed, in broken murmurs, the chaste raptures of his soul.The tenderness of this communication was too painful to be long endured.Aurelia industriously interposed other subjects of discourse, that hisattention might not be dangerously overcharged, and the afternoon passedinsensibly away.

  Though he had determined, in his own mind, never more to quit this idolof his soul, they had not yet concerted any plan of conduct, when theirhappiness was all at once interrupted by a repetition of cries, denotinghorror; and a servant coming in, said he believed some rogues weremurdering a traveller on the highway. The supposition of such distressoperated like gunpowder on the disposition of our adventurer, who,without considering the situation of Aurelia, and indeed without seeing,or being capable to think on her or any other subject for the time being,ran directly to the stable, and, mounting the first horse which he foundsaddled, issued out in the twilight, having no other weapon but hissword.

  He rode full speed to the spot whence the cries seemed to proceed; butthey sounded more remote as he advanced. Nevertheless, he followed themto a considerable distance from the road, over fields, ditches, andhedges; and at last came so near, that he could plainly distinguish thevoice of his own squire, Timothy Crabshaw, bellowing for mercy, withhideous vociferation. Stimulated by this recognition, he redoubled hiscareer in the dark, till at length his horse plunged into a hole, thenature of which he could not comprehend; but he found it impracticable todisengage him. It was with some difficulty that he himself clamberedover a ruined wall, and regained the open ground. Here he groped about,in the utmost impatience of anxiety, ignorant of the place, mad withvexation for the fate of his unfortunate squire, and between whilesinvaded with a pang of concern for Aurelia, left among strangers,unguarded, and alarmed.

  In the midst of this emotion, he bethought himself of hallooing aloud,that, in case he should be in the neighbourhood of any inhabited place,he might be heard and assisted. He accordingly practised this expedient,which was not altogether without effect; for he was immediately answeredby an old friend, no other than his own steed Bronzomarte, who, hearinghis master's voice, neighed strenuously at a small distance. The knight,being well acquainted with the sound, heard it with astonishment, and,advancing in the right direction, found his noble charger fastened to atree. He forthwith untied and mounted him; then, laying the reins uponhis neck, allowed him to choose his own path, in which he began to travelwith equal steadiness and expedition. They had not proceeded far, whenthe knight's ears were again saluted by the cries of Crabshaw; whichBronzomarte no sooner heard, than he pricked up his ears, neighed, andquickened his pace, as if he had been sensible of the squire's distress,and hastened to his relief. Sir Launcelot, notwithstanding his owndisquiet, could not help observing and admiring this generous sensibilityof his horse. He began to think himself some hero of romance, mountedupon a winged steed, inspired with reason, directed by some humaneenchanter, who pitied virtue in distress. All circumstances considered,it is no wonder that the commotion in the mind of our adventurer producedsome such delirium. All night he continued the chase; the voice, whichwas repeated at intervals, still retreating before him, till the morningbegan to appear in the east, when, by divers piteous groans, he wasdirected to the corner of a wood, where he beheld his miserable squirestretched upon the grass, and Gilbert feeding by him altogetherunconcerned, the helmet and the lance suspended at the saddle-bow, andthe portmanteau safely fixed upon the crupper.

  The knight, riding up to Crabshaw, with equal surprise and concern, askedwhat had brought him there? and Timothy, after some pause, during whichhe surveyed his master with a rueful aspect, answered, "The devil."--"Onewould imagine, indeed, you had some such conveyance," said Sir Launcelot."I have followed your cries since last evening, I know not how norwhither, and never could come up with you till this moment. But, say,what damage have you sustained, that you lie in that wretched posture,and groan so dismally?" "I can't guess," replied the squire, "if itbean't that mai hoole carcase is drilled into oilet hools, and my fleshpinched into a jelly."--"How! wherefore!" cried the knight; "who were themiscreants that treated you in such a barbarous manner? Do you know theruffians?"--"I know nothing at all," answered the peevish squire, "butthat I was tormented by vive houndred and vifty thousand legions ofdevils, and there's an end oon't."--"Well, you must have a littlepatience, Crabshaw--there's a salve for every sore."--"Yaw mought as welltell ma, for every zow there's a zirreverence."--"For a man in yourcondition, methinks you talk very much at your ease--try if you can getup and mount Gilbert, that you may be conveyed to some place where youcan have proper assistance.--So--well done--cheerly!"

  Timothy actually made an effort to rise, but fell down again, an
d uttereda dismal yell. Then his master exhorted him to take advantage of a parkwall, by which he lay, and raise himself gradually upon it. Crabshaw,eyeing him askance, said, by way of reproach, for his not alighting andassisting him in person, "Thatch your house with t--d, and you'll havemore teachers than reachers."--Having pronounced this inelegant adage, hemade shift to stand upon his legs; and now, the knight lending a hand,was mounted upon Gilbert, though not without a world of ohs! and ahs! andother ejaculations of pain and impatience.

  As they jogged on together, our adventurer endeavoured to learn theparticulars of the disaster which had befallen the squire; but all theinformation he could obtain, amounted to a very imperfect sketch of theadventure. By dint of a thousand interrogations, he understood, thatCrabshaw had been, in the preceding evening, encountered by three personson horseback, with Venetian masks on their faces, which he mistook fortheir natural features, and was terrified accordingly. That they notonly presented pistols to his breast, and led his horse out of thehighway; but pricked him with goads, and pinched him, from time to time,till he screamed with the torture. That he was led through unfrequentedplaces across the country, sometimes at an easy trot, sometimes at fullgallop, and tormented all night by those hideous demons, who vanished atdaybreak, and left him lying on the spot where he was found by hismaster.

  This was a mystery which our hero could by no means unriddle. It was themore unaccountable, as the squire had not been robbed of his money,horses, and baggage. He was even disposed to believe that Crabshaw'sbrain was disordered, and the whole account he had given no more than amere chimera. This opinion, however, he could no longer retain, when hearrived at an inn on the post-road, and found, upon examination, thatTimothy's lower extremities were covered with blood, and all the rest ofhis body speckled with livid marks of contusion. But he was still morechagrined when the landlord informed him, that he was thirty milesdistant from the place where he had left Aurelia, and that his way laythrough cross-roads, which were almost impassable at that season of theyear. Alarmed at this intelligence, he gave directions that his squireshould be immediately conveyed to bed in a comfortable chamber, as hecomplained more and more; and, indeed, was seized with a fever,occasioned by the fatigue, the pain, and terror he had undergone. Aneighbouring apothecary being called, and giving it as his opinion thathe could not for some days be in a condition to travel, his masterdeposited a sum of money in his hands, desiring he might be properlyattended till he should hear further. Then mounting Bronzomarte, he setout with a guide for the place he had left, not without a thousand fearsand perplexities, arising from the reflection of having left the jewel ofhis heart with such precipitation.