by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XII
Ah me! for aught that ever I could read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth! --Midsummer Night's Dream.
The celebrated passage which we have prefixed to this chapter has, likemost observations of the same author, its foundation in real experience.The period at which love is formed for the first time, and felt moststrongly, is seldom that at which there is much prospect of its beingbrought to a happy issue. The state of artificial society opposes manycomplicated obstructions to early marriages; and the chance is verygreat, that such obstacles prove insurmountable. In fine, there are fewmen who do not look back in secret to some period of their youth, atwhich a sincere and early affection was repulsed, or betrayed, or becomeabortive from opposing circumstances. It is these little passages ofsecret history, which leave a tinge of romance in every bosom, scarcepermitting us, even in the most busy or the most advanced period oflife, to listen with total indifference to a tale of true love.
Julian Peveril had so fixed his affections, as to insure the fullestshare of that opposition which early attachments are so apt toencounter. Yet nothing so natural as that he should have done so. Inearly youth, Dame Debbitch had accidentally met with the son of herfirst patroness, and who had himself been her earliest charge, fishingin the little brook already noticed, which watered the valley inwhich she resided with Alice Bridgenorth. The dame's curiosity easilydiscovered who he was; and besides the interest which persons in hercondition usually take in the young people who have been under theircharge, she was delighted with the opportunity to talk about formertimes--about Martindale Castle, and friends there--about SirGeoffrey and his good lady--and, now and then, about Lance Outram thepark-keeper.
The mere pleasure of gratifying her inquiries, would scarce have hadpower enough to induce Julian to repeat his visits to the lonely glen;but Deborah had a companion--a lovely girl--bred in solitude, and in thequiet and unpretending tastes which solitude encourages--spirited, also,and inquisitive, and listening, with laughing cheek, and an eager eye,to every tale which the young angler brought from the town and castle.
The visits of Julian to the Black Fort were only occasional--so farDame Deborah showed common-sense--which was, perhaps, inspired by theapprehension of losing her place, in case of discovery. She had, indeed,great confidence in the strong and rooted belief--amounting almost tosuperstition--which Major Bridgenorth entertained, that his daughter'scontinued health could only be insured by her continuing under thecharge of one who had acquired Lady Peveril's supposed skill in treatingthose subject to such ailments. This belief Dame Deborah had improvedto the utmost of her simple cunning,--always speaking in something of anoracular tone, upon the subject of her charge's health, and hintingat certain mysterious rules necessary to maintain it in the presentfavourable state. She had availed herself of this artifice, to procurefor herself and Alice a separate establishment at the Black Fort; for itwas originally Major Bridgenorth's resolution, that his daughter and hergovernante should remain under the same roof with the sister-in-law ofhis deceased wife, the widow of the unfortunate Colonel Christian. Butthis lady was broken down with premature age, brought on by sorrow;and, in a short visit which Major Bridgenorth made to the island, hewas easily prevailed on to consider her house at Kirk-Truagh, as avery cheerless residence for his daughter. Dame Deborah, who longedfor domestic independence, was careful to increase this impression byalarming her patron's fears on account of Alice's health. The mansion ofKirk-Truagh stood, she said, much exposed to the Scottish winds, whichcould not but be cold, as they came from a country where, as she wasassured, there was ice and snow at midsummer. In short, she prevailed,and was put into full possession of the Black Fort, a house which, aswell as Kirk-Truagh, belonged formerly to Christian, and now to hiswidow.
Still, however, it was enjoined on the governante and her charge, tovisit Kirk-Truagh from time to time, and to consider themselves asunder the management and guardianship of Mistress Christian--a stateof subjection, the sense of which Deborah endeavoured to lessen, byassuming as much freedom of conduct as she possibly dared, under theinfluence, doubtless, of the same feelings of independence, whichinduced her, at Martindale Hall, to spurn the advice of MistressEllesmere.
It was this generous disposition to defy control which induced her toprocure for Alice, secretly, some means of education, which the sterngenius of puritanism would have proscribed. She ventured to have hercharge taught music--nay, even dancing; and the picture of the sternColonel Christian trembled on the wainscot where it was suspended,while the sylph-like form of Alice, and the substantial person of DameDeborah, executed French _chaussees_ and _borrees_, to the sound ofa small kit, which screamed under the bow of Monsieur De Pigal, halfsmuggler, half dancing-master. This abomination reached the ears ofthe Colonel's widow, and by her was communicated to Bridgenorth, whosesudden appearance in the island showed the importance he attached to thecommunication. Had she been faithless to her own cause, that had beenthe latest hour of Mrs. Deborah's administration. But she retreated intoher stronghold.
"Dancing," she said, "was exercise, regulated and timed by music; and itstood to reason, that it must be the best of all exercise for a delicateperson, especially as it could be taken within doors, and in all statesof the weather."
Bridgenorth listened, with a clouded and thoughtful brow, when,in exemplification of her doctrine, Mistress Deborah, who was nocontemptible performer on the viol, began to jangle Sellenger's Round,and desired Alice to dance an old English measure to the tune. Asthe half-bashful, half-smiling girl, about fourteen--for such washer age--moved gracefully to the music, the father's eye unavoidablyfollowed the light spring of her step, and marked with joy the risingcolour in her cheek. When the dance was over, he folded her in his arms,smoothed her somewhat disordered locks with a father's affectionatehand, smiled, kissed her brow, and took his leave, without one singleword farther interdicting the exercise of dancing. He did not himselfcommunicate the result of his visit at the Black Fort to Mrs. Christian,but she was not long of learning it, by the triumph of Dame Deborah onher next visit.
"It is well," said the stern old lady; "my brother Bridgenorth hathpermitted you to make a Herodias of Alice, and teach her dancing. Youhave only now to find her a partner for life--I shall neither meddle normake more in their affairs."
In fact, the triumph of Dame Deborah, or rather of Dame Nature, on thisoccasion, had more important effects than the former had ventured toanticipate; for Mrs. Christian, though she received with all formalitythe formal visits of the governante and her charge, seemed thenceforthso pettish with the issue of her remonstrance, upon the enormity ofher niece dancing to a little fiddle, that she appeared to give upinterference in her affairs, and left Dame Debbitch and Alice to manageboth education and housekeeping--in which she had hitherto greatlyconcerned herself--much after their own pleasure.
It was in this independent state that they lived, when Julian firstvisited their habitation; and he was the rather encouraged to do so byDame Deborah, that she believed him to be one of the last persons in theworld with whom Mistress Christian would have desired her niece to beacquainted--the happy spirit of contradiction superseding, with DameDeborah, on this, as on other occasions, all consideration of thefitness of things. She did not act altogether without precautionneither. She was aware she had to guard not only against any revivinginterest or curiosity on the part of Mistress Christian, but against thesudden arrival of Major Bridgenorth, who never failed once in the yearto make his appearance at the Black Fort when least expected, andto remain there for a few days. Dame Debbitch, therefore, exacted ofJulian, that his visits should be few and far between; that he shouldcondescend to pass for a relation of her own, in the eyes of twoignorant Manx girls and a lad, who formed her establishment; and thathe should always appear in his angler's dress made of the simple_Loughtan_, or buff-coloured wool of the island, which is not subjectedt
o dyeing. By these cautions, she thought his intimacy at the Black Fortwould be entirely unnoticed, or considered as immaterial, while, in themeantime, it furnished much amusement to her charge and herself.
This was accordingly the case during the earlier part of theirintercourse, while Julian was a lad, and Alice a girl two or three yearsyounger. But as the lad shot up to youth, and the girl to womanhood,even Dame Deborah Debbitch's judgment saw danger in their continuedintimacy. She took an opportunity to communicate to Julian who MissBridgenorth actually was, and the peculiar circumstances which placeddiscord between their fathers. He heard the story of their quarrelwith interest and surprise, for he had only resided occasionally atMartindale Castle, and the subject of Bridgenorth's quarrel with hisfather had never been mentioned in his presence. His imagination caughtfire at the sparks afforded by this singular story; and, far fromcomplying with the prudent remonstrance of Dame Deborah, and graduallyestranging himself from the Black Fort and its fair inmate, he franklydeclared, he considered his intimacy there, so casually commenced, asintimating the will of Heaven, that Alice and he were designed for eachother, in spite of every obstacle which passion or prejudice couldraise up betwixt them. They had been companions in infancy; and a littleexertion of memory enabled him to recall his childish grief for theunexpected and sudden disappearance of his little companion, whom he wasdestined again to meet with in the early bloom of opening beauty, in acountry which was foreign to them both.
Dame Deborah was confounded at the consequences of her communication,which had thus blown into a flame the passion which she hoped it wouldhave either prevented or extinguished. She had not the sort of headwhich resists the masculine and energetic remonstrances of passionateattachment, whether addressed to her on her own account, or on behalf ofanother. She lamented, and wondered, and ended her feeble opposition,by weeping, and sympathising, and consenting to allow the continuance ofJulian's visits, provided he should only address himself to Alice as afriend; to gain the world, she would consent to nothing more. She wasnot, however, so simple, but that she also had her forebodings of thedesigns of Providence on this youthful couple; for certainly they couldnot be more formed to be united than the good estates of Martindale andMoultrassie.
Then came a long sequence of reflections. Martindale Castle wanted butsome repairs to be almost equal to Chatsworth. The Hall might be allowedto go to ruin; or, what would be better, when Sir Geoffrey's time came(for the good knight had seen service, and must be breaking now), theHall would be a good dowery-house, to which my lady and Ellesmere mightretreat; while (empress of the still-room, and queen of the pantry)Mistress Deborah Debbitch should reign housekeeper at the Castle, andextend, perhaps, the crown-matrimonial to Lance Outram, provided he wasnot become too old, too fat, or too fond of ale.
Such were the soothing visions under the influence of which the dameconnived at an attachment, which lulled also to pleasing dreams, thoughof a character so different, her charge and her visitant.
The visits of the young angler became more and more frequent; and theembarrassed Deborah, though foreseeing all the dangers of discovery, andthe additional risk of an explanation betwixt Alice and Julian, whichmust necessarily render their relative situation so much more delicate,felt completely overborne by the enthusiasm of the young lover, and wascompelled to let matters take their course.
The departure of Julian for the continent interrupted the course ofhis intimacy at the Black Fort, and while it relieved the elder of itsinmates from much internal apprehension, spread an air of languor anddejection over the countenance of the younger, which, at Bridgenorth'snext visit to the Isle of Man, renewed all his terrors for hisdaughter's constitutional malady.
Deborah promised faithfully she should look better the next morning, andshe kept her word. She had retained in her possession for some time aletter which Julian had, by some private conveyance, sent to hercharge, for his youthful friend. Deborah had dreaded the consequencesof delivering it as a billet-doux, but, as in the case of the dance, shethought there could be no harm in administering it as a remedy.
It had complete effect; and next day the cheeks of the maiden had atinge of the rose, which so much delighted her father, that, as hemounted his horse, he flung his purse into Deborah's hand, with thedesire she should spare nothing that could make herself and his daughterhappy, and the assurance that she had his full confidence.
This expression of liberality and confidence from a man of MajorBridgenorth's reserved and cautious disposition, gave full plumage toMistress Deborah's hopes; and emboldened her not only to deliver anotherletter of Julian's to the young lady, but to encourage more boldly andfreely than formerly the intercourse of the lovers when Peveril returnedfrom abroad.
At length, in spite of all Julian's precaution, the young Earl becamesuspicious of his frequent solitary fishing parties; and he himself, nowbetter acquainted with the world than formerly, became aware that hisrepeated visits and solitary walks with a person so young andbeautiful as Alice, might not only betray prematurely the secret of hisattachment, but be of essential prejudice to her who was its object.
Under the influence of this conviction, he abstained, for an unusualperiod, from visiting the Black Fort. But when he next indulged himselfwith spending an hour in the place where he would gladly have abodefor ever, the altered manner of Alice--the tone in which she seemedto upbraid his neglect, penetrated his heart, and deprived him ofthat power of self-command, which he had hitherto exercised in theirinterviews. It required but a few energetic words to explain to Aliceat once his feelings, and to make her sensible of the real nature of herown. She wept plentifully, but her tears were not all of bitterness. Shesat passively still, and without reply, while he explained to her, withmany an interjection, the circumstances which had placed discord betweentheir families; for hitherto, all that she had known was, that MasterPeveril, belonging to the household of the great Countess or Lady ofMan, must observe some precautions in visiting a relative of the unhappyColonel Christian. But, when Julian concluded his tale with the warmestprotestations of eternal love, "My poor father!" she burst forth, "andwas this to be the end of all thy precautions?--This, that the son ofhim that disgraced and banished thee, should hold such language to yourdaughter?"
"You err, Alice, you err," cried Julian eagerly. "That I hold thislanguage--that the son of Peveril addresses thus the daughter of yourfather--that he thus kneels to you for forgiveness of injuries whichpassed when we were both infants, shows the will of Heaven, that in ouraffection should be quenched the discord of our parents. What else couldlead those who parted infants on the hills of Derbyshire, to meet thusin the valleys of Man?"
Alice, however new such a scene, and, above all, her own emotions, mightbe, was highly endowed with that exquisite delicacy which is imprintedin the female heart, to give warning of the slightest approach toimpropriety in a situation like hers.
"Rise, rise, Master Peveril," she said; "do not do yourself and me thisinjustice--we have done both wrong--very wrong; but my fault was done inignorance. O God! my poor father, who needs comfort so much--is it forme to add to his misfortunes? Rise!" she added more firmly; "if youretain this unbecoming posture any longer, I will leave the room and youshall never see me more."
The commanding tone of Alice overawed the impetuosity of her lover, whotook in silence a seat removed to some distance from hers, and was againabout to speak. "Julian," said she in a milder tone, "you have spokenenough, and more than enough. Would you had left me in the pleasingdream in which I could have listened to you for ever! but the hour ofwakening is arrived." Peveril waited the prosecution of her speech as acriminal while he waits his doom; for he was sufficiently sensible thatan answer, delivered not certainly without emotion, but with firmnessand resolution, was not to be interrupted. "We have done wrong," sherepeated, "very wrong; and if we now separate for ever, the pain we mayfeel will be but a just penalty for our error. We should never have met:meeting, we should part as soon as possible. Our farther intercours
ecan but double our pain at parting. Farewell, Julian; and forget we everhave seen each other!"
"Forget!" said Julian; "never, never. To _you_, it is easy to speak theword--to think the thought. To _me_, an approach to either can only beby utter destruction. Why should you doubt that the feud of ourfathers, like so many of which we have heard, might be appeased by ourfriendship? You are my only friend. I am the only one whom Heaven hasassigned to you. Why should we separate for the fault of others, whichbefell when we were but children?"
"You speak in vain, Julian," said Alice; "I pity you--perhaps I pitymyself--indeed, I should pity myself, perhaps, the most of the two; foryou will go forth to new scenes and new faces, and will soon forgetme; but, I, remaining in this solitude, how shall _I_ forget?--that,however, is not now the question--I can bear my lot, and it commands usto part."
"Hear me yet a moment," said Peveril; "this evil is not, cannot beremediless. I will go to my father,--I will use the intercession of mymother, to whom he can refuse nothing--I will gain their consent--theyhave no other child--and they must consent, or lose him for ever. Say,Alice, if I come to you with my parents' consent to my suit, will youagain say, with that tone so touching and so sad, yet so incrediblydetermined--Julian, we must part?" Alice was silent. "Cruel girl, willyou not even deign to answer me?" said her lover.
"I would refer you to my father," said Alice, blushing and casting hereyes down; but instantly raising them again, she repeated, in a firmerand a sadder tone, "Yes, Julian, I would refer you to my father; and youwould find that your pilot, Hope, had deceived you; and that you had butescaped the quicksands to fall upon the rocks."
"I would that could be tried!" said Julian. "Methinks I could persuadeyour father that in ordinary eyes our alliance is not undesirable. Myfamily have fortune, rank, long descent--all that fathers look for whenthey bestow a daughter's hand."
"All this would avail you nothing," said Alice. "The spirit of my fatheris bent upon the things of another world; and if he listened to hear youout, it would be but to tell you that he spurned your offers."
"You know not--you know not, Alice," said Julian. "Fire can softeniron--thy father's heart cannot be so hard, or his prejudices so strong,but I shall find some means to melt him. Forbid me not--Oh, forbid menot at least the experiment!"
"I can but advise," said Alice; "I can forbid you nothing; for, toforbid, implies power to command obedience. But if you will be wise, andlisten to me--Here, and on this spot, we part for ever!"
"Not so, by Heaven!" said Julian, whose bold and sanguine temper scarcesaw difficulty in attaining aught which he desired. "We now part,indeed, but it is that I may return armed with my parents' consent. Theydesire that I should marry--in their last letters they pressed it moreopenly--they shall have their desire; and such a bride as I will presentto them has not graced their house since the Conqueror gave it origin.Farewell, Alice! Farewell, for a brief space!"
She replied, "Farewell, Julian! Farewell for ever!"
Julian, within a week of this interview, was at Martindale Castle, withthe view of communicating his purpose. But the task which seems easy ata distance, proves as difficult, upon a nearer approach, as the fordingof a river, which from afar appeared only a brook. There lacked notopportunities of entering upon the subject; for in the first ride whichhe took with his father, the Knight resumed the subject of his son'smarriage, and liberally left the lady to his choice; but under thestrict proviso, that she was of a loyal and an honourable family;--ifshe had fortune, it was good and well, or rather, it was better thanwell; but if she was poor, why, "there is still some picking," said SirGeoffrey, "on the bones of the old estate; and Dame Margaret and I willbe content with the less, that you young folks may have your share ofit. I am turned frugal already, Julian. You see what a north-countryshambling bit of a Galloway nag I ride upon--a different beast, I wot,from my own old Black Hastings, who had but one fault, and that was hiswish to turn down Moultrassie avenue."
"Was that so great a fault?" said Julian, affecting indifference, whilehis heart was trembling, as it seemed to him, almost in his very throat.
"It used to remind me of that base, dishonourable Presbyterian fellow,Bridgenorth," said Sir Geoffrey; "and I would as lief think of atoad:--they say he has turned Independent, to accomplish the full degreeof rascality.--I tell you, Gill, I turned off the cow-boy, for gatheringnuts in his woods--I would hang a dog that would so much as kill a harethere.--But what is the matter with you? You look pale."
Julian made some indifferent answer, but too well understood, from thelanguage and tone which his father used, that his prejudices againstAlice's father were both deep and envenomed, as those of countrygentlemen often become, who, having little to do or think of, are buttoo apt to spend their time in nursing and cherishing petty causes ofwrath against their next neighbours.
In the course of the same day, he mentioned the Bridgenorth to hismother, as if in a casual manner. But the Lady Peveril instantlyconjured him never to mention the name, especially in his father'spresence.
"Was that Major Bridgenorth, of whom I have heard the name mentioned,"said Julian, "so very bad a neighbour?"
"I do not say so," said Lady Peveril; "nay, we were more than onceobliged to him, in the former unhappy times; but your father and he tooksome passages so ill at each other's hands, that the least allusionto him disturbs Sir Geoffrey's temper, in a manner quite unusual, andwhich, now that his health is somewhat impaired, is sometimes alarmingto me. For Heaven's sake, then, my dear Julian, avoid upon all occasionsthe slightest allusion to Moultrassie, or any of its inhabitants."
This warning was so seriously given, that Julian himself saw thatmentioning his secret purpose would be the sure way to render itabortive, and therefore he returned disconsolate to the Isle.
Peveril had the boldness, however, to make the best he could of what hadhappened, by requesting an interview with Alice, in order to inform herwhat had passed betwixt his parents and him on her account. It was withgreat difficulty that this boon was obtained; and Alice Bridgenorthshowed no slight degree of displeasure, when she discovered, after muchcircumlocution, and many efforts to give an air of importance to whathe had to communicate, that all amounted but to this, that LadyPeveril continued to retain a favourable opinion of her father, MajorBridgenorth, which Julian would fain have represented as an omen oftheir future more perfect reconciliation.
"I did not think you would thus have trifled with me, Master Peveril,"said Alice, assuming an air of dignity; "but I will take care to avoidsuch intrusion in future--I request you will not again visit the BlackFort; and I entreat of you, good Mistress Debbitch, that you will nolonger either encourage or permit this gentleman's visits, as the resultof such persecution will be to compel me to appeal to my aunt and fatherfor another place of residence, and perhaps also for another and moreprudent companion."
This last hint struck Mistress Deborah with so much terror, that shejoined her ward in requiring and demanding Julian's instant absence,and he was obliged to comply with their request. But the courage ofa youthful lover is not easily subdued; and Julian, after having gonethrough the usual round of trying to forget his ungrateful mistress, andentertaining his passion with augmented violence, ended by the visit tothe Black Fort, the beginning of which we narrated in the last chapter.
We then left him anxious for, yet almost fearful of, an interview withAlice, which he prevailed upon Deborah to solicit; and such was thetumult of his mind, that, while he traversed the parlour, it seemedto him that the dark melancholy eyes of the slaughtered Christian'sportrait followed him wherever he went, with the fixed, chill, andominous glance, which announced to the enemy of his race mishap andmisfortune.
The door of the apartment opened at length, and these visions weredissipated.