CHAPTER III.
Violent was the struggle of contending emotions within the bosom ofVirginia Fairfax, when she had gained her own apartment, and strove toform her determination in the matter proposed by Nathaniel Bacon. Onsuch occasions feeling usurps the place of reason, and the longer wedeliberate, the more perplexing seem to grow our doubts anddifficulties. If, however, there were powerful feelings contendingagainst the enterprise, there were equally if not more powerful onesoperating in its favour. Not the least among these was the estimation inwhich she held both him who proposed the nocturnal expedition and himwhose advice and aid were expected to be gained. Bacon himself, it wasgenerally believed, had acquired most of his knowledge of books from themysterious personage alluded to, and he in his turn had been theinstructer of his fair young associate and playmate. It is true thatthese relations of the several parties had somewhat changed of lateyears, as the two younger ones approached the age at which theircontinuance might be deemed improper, to say nothing of any littlemisgivings of which, they might themselves be conscious, as to thenature of many strange and novel impressions, the growth of years andintimacy, perhaps, but not suspected until with advancing years camechange of relative situation and prospect for the future.
All the various relations of our heroine to the other parties presentedthemselves in successive aspects to her view, as she endeavouredhonestly to decide the matter according to the dictates of duty. Whileshe was thus deliberating, the usual evening meal was announced. As sheentered the apartment, and beheld her father and mother waiting for herto assume the head of the table, which on account of the latter'sdelicate health had been her custom of late, all the contending emotionswhich had so lately occupied her mind were renewed with increasing forceby the sight of the beloved objects in whose behalf she was solicited toundertake the strange adventure.
Gideon Fairfax, the father of Virginia, was one of the Cavaliers, beforealluded to, who fled to Jamestown during the interregnum. He wasbrother-in-law to the Governor of the colony, and was, at the time ofwhich we write, a member of the council. He was one of that remarkablerace of men which has so powerfully influenced the destinies of theAncient Dominion from that day to the present. He was rather above themedium height, with light hair and eyes, and although he hadconsiderably passed the prime of life, there was a sparkling of boyishvivacity in his eyes, and a cheerful expression always hovering abouthis mouth, which instantly dispelled any thing like formality in hisintercourse with others. Yet withal there was a bold, reckless daringin his look, together with an open-hearted sincerity which served togive a manly dignity to the lighter expressions already mentioned. Tohis only daughter he was most devotedly attached.
Mrs. Emily Fairfax seemed about the same age as her husband, and thoughshe still preserved some evidence of former beauty, her countenance wasnow mostly indebted for any charm that it possessed to a mild, lady-likeand placid serenity, which was occasionally shadowed by an air ofmelancholy so profound, that more than once her friends were alarmed forher reason. As Virginia assumed her place at the board, the conflict inher mind was in nowise subdued by observing that one of these melancholyvisitations was just settling upon her mother's countenance; indeedthere seemed to be a mutual discovery on the part of mother anddaughter, that each had some secret cause of uneasiness; but the effectwas by far the most painful to the mother's heart, as it was the firsttime that she had ever seen her daughter's gay and happy temperamentseriously disturbed. The parting hour for the night arrived, withoutmaking either of them wiser as to the cause of the other'spre-occupation and evident anxiety; the mother having sought anexplanation in vain, and the daughter being too much accustomed to herpresent state of mind to intrude farther upon her sorrows, whatevermight be their cause or nature. Bacon's arguments prevailed, and longbefore the hour appointed, Virginia was sitting at the window, her lightextinguished, mantle drawn close around her to exclude the damp air fromthe river, and her hat tied on in readiness for the expedition.
At length the town clock began to send its slow and solemn sounds acrossthe water. The house was still and dark, and the inmates apparentlywrapped in profound slumber. Her own clandestine movements, so new toher, seemed like the trampling of armed heels rather than the footfallsof her own slight figure. More than once she was on the point ofretracing her steps, so tumultuous and painful were her emotions inprosecuting an adventure which still appeared to her of suchquestionable propriety. The servants' hall, garden, and postern gatewere all passed without the slightest interruption, save an occasionalstart at her own shadow, or the impetuous beating of her agitated heart.The moon was at her zenith, and the clouds coursing high in the heavens,so as every now and then to obscure her reflected beams, and presentalternate and fantastic contrasts of light and shade upon thesurrounding objects. The river for one moment looked like a dark abyss,and the next a mirror of light as the silver rays fell sparkling uponthe rippling waters beneath the bridge. The interminable forest beyondwas at one moment dark as Erebus, and the next as light as fairy land.There is no appearance of the heavens, perhaps, which produces agreater tendency in the mind to undefined and superstitious terror thanthat which we have attempted to describe. Our own shadow, visible as itis only for an instant, will startle us; and the ill-omened birds ofnight acquire huge and unnatural proportions as they flit swiftly by onnoiseless wings in this rapid alternation of light and gloom. The wolvesand other beasts of prey might be heard at long intervals, as their wildand savage howls broke upon the ear, reverberating from cliff to cliffas they fell upon and were borne across the water. Under thesecircumstances it may be readily imagined that our heroine was not alittle relieved at the sight of Bacon leaning against the nearestabutment of the bridge, anxiously watching for her approach. In a fewmoments he had seated his companion in the boat, upon a cushion formedof his cloak, and was rapidly approaching the opposite shore. When theyarrived at the appointed rendezvous, a very unexpected source ofuneasiness was speedily discovered. As has been already intimated, Baconhad early in the evening despatched his usual attendant, Brian O'Reily,across the bridge to wait their arrival. The horses were indeedthere--and O'Reily was there, but so intoxicated as to be apparently inno condition to guide the motions of a horse, even should he be able tokeep the saddle. Bacon lost all patience at this discovery, and wouldperhaps have taken summary and not very agreeable means to sober hisattendant, had he not been reminded by his gentle companion of thepeculiar and privileged position which Brian had from time immemorialenjoyed in his service, as well as that of their own family. "How comesit, sir," said the young man, "that I find you in this predicament whenI gave you such strict injunctions to keep yourself sober? Now of allother times!--when I had taken so much trouble to instruct you whom youwere to guard, and upon what expedition?"
"By the five crasses, but you've hit the very nail upon the head. By thecontints of the book but that's the very rason I took a dhrop of thecrathur!"
"What is the reason, you drunken old fool?"
"The business were an to be sure! you wouldn't be after axing a sinnerlike Brian O'Reily to ixpose himself to sich a temptation widout takinga dhrop, and may be your haner would do that same for all your spakingaginst it so intirely."
"And what may the nature of the temptation be of which you speak?"
"And is it Brian you're after axin? O begorra, but that's runnin awaywid the story intirely, so it is; sure it's me should be axin your hanerafter that same!"
"None of your subterfuges, sir! I am determined to know your ideas ofthis dreadful temptation."
"By my purty an is it Brian's idaas you're axin after, divil a miny o'them he's got any way, barrin a small bit of a smotherin about theheart whenever I think of the business we're on, and the gintlemanwe're goin to see, savin your prisence and the beauty o' the world byyour side."
"What gentleman--speak out and I will forgive your drunkenness, providedyou give me up that bottle I see peeping from the pouch of your jerkin."
"An is'nt it the ma
n widout the shadow you're after making a tay partywid?"
"And who is the man without a shadow, Brian?" inquired Virginia, willingto forget her own misgivings in the more ludicrous superstition of theson of the Emerald Isle, whose countrymen, it may be remarked, formed noinconsiderable part of the inferior population of the city at that day.
"Oh bad cess to me, but I'm as glad to see you as two tin pinnies, youbeauty o' the world; but it bates all the love I had for you and everhad these ten years past to see where you'r going."
"Well, where is it, Brian?"
"Hav'nt I tould your ladyship it was to a tay party wid the inimyhimself."
"Come, see if you can assist Virginia to the pillion," said Bacon, as hesprang into the saddle.
"By my purty and I'll do that same;" kneeling upon one knee and takingone foot in his hand, and then seating her as easily and gracefully asif he had been a stranger to the bottle for a month.
"I had no idea that you were such a coward, Brian," continued hismaster.
"Sorra a dhrop o' coward's blood runs in Brian O'Reily's heart, iny way.It's one thing to trate the grate inimy with dacent respect, and itsanother to fight the yellow nagres that go dodgin from tree to tree likeso many frogs; the devil fly away wid the one and the t'other o' themfor me, I say."
"And who is the great enemy?"
"Sure hav'nt I tould your haner and the beauty o' the world by yourside, it was the man widout a shadow what lives in the stone housewidout windows, as well he may, seein the light o' his own counthenancemay be seen across the river the darkest night any day."
"Sit your horse straight, you drunken piece of stupidity, or you willbreak your neck."
"Oh! an if Brian never breaks his neck till he falls from a horse, surehe'll live to take many a dhrop of the crathur yet before he dies. SureI was only crassin myself, divil a word o' lie's in that, iny way."
"There, I have broken one of your necks at least," said Bacon, as withthe butt of his riding whip he struck the neck from a bottle which everynow and then peeped from Brian's pocket as the motions of the horseraised him in the saddle.
"Oh! murther all out, but you'll come to want yet before you die. Ohsure, but the crathur's safe after all. Wo, ye divil of a baste, don'tyou hear the crathur all runnin down the wrang side o' me. Wo, I say! Ohbut the bottle sticks as tight to the pouch as if it growed there. Ohmurther all out, I'm ruined, I'm ruined intirely."
"Draw your arm from your jerken, Brian, and then you can drink out ofyour pocket," said Virginia, suppressing a laugh.
"Oh you beauty o' the world, see what it is to have the larnin," repliedthe Irishman, immediately adopting the expedient; but here a newdifficulty presented itself. "Oh murther, but the gable end's allknocked off and fax the chimney went along with it. Oh, but the crokerysticks up all round like pike staffs. Wo you murthur'n baste; Now I'vegot it, now I've got it, you beauty; sorra one of the lane cows atJamestown gives sich milk as that, fax if they did, I'd be head dairymanto the Governor any way."
Thus our adventurers beguiled the way through a dreary and tracklessforest of some miles, until they approached a spot where Bacon signifiedto the party that they had accomplished so much of their journey as wasto be performed on horseback. What farther befell them will be describedin the ensuing chapter.
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