They both retired, accordingly; and their respective doors were locked upon them. But, notwithstanding this precaution, the two gentlemen, whose return to the house had produced such fortunate results, declared their intention of remaining there till the morning, and a man-servant was dispatched to the Manor-house, across the park, to certify to Lady Otterborne that her absent son was safely lodged at the Grange.
The few hours which intervened before the sun rose on the following day, were very tranquilly passed in sleep by most of the persons whom we have described as having been disturbed during the night. But Mrs. Mathews was not among them. In truth, she never closed her eyes in sleep for one single moment during the hours of that important night. And sorry would she have been had fatigue so conquered happiness as to rob her of the delightful reveries in which these hours were passed.
Excepting to her priest and confessor, as she liked to call him, she had never fully explained to anybody all the misery that had fallen upon her as the result of the ill-advised settlement which she had caused to be made upon her at her marriage.
It was Mr. Cuthbridge only who knew all that she might have done towards making the marriage of Sir Herbert and her Janet a most proper and prudent one, instead of being so widely the contrary, as it now appeared. And delightful indeed were the hours during which she lay awake, meditating on the happiness which she had now the power to bestow.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
The events which followed were such as may be so easily predicted, that any detailed relation of them would be tedious. The only event of any great importance, which the sagacity of the reader may not supply, arose from the professional skill displayed by Mr. Etienne Briot, senior, before the sun rose on the following morning; for when the proper individuals into whose custody he was to be given mounted to the room in which he had been lodged on the preceding night, they found the door still securely closed; but when it was unlocked, it was speedily discovered that the window was open.
And through this window it was presumed that the bulky form of Mr. Etienne Briot had passed, probably by the aid of one of those melo-dramatic ladders which have for ages proved so useful to lovers and thieves.
One other discovery was made respecting him, which certainly proved him to be a very clever fellow. Notwithstanding the overwhelming attack made upon him, at the moment of his seizing upon Mr. Mathews’ pocket-book, he had contrived, somehow or other, to keep possession of it — for it was never seen nor heard of afterwards; and as no mention could ever be found in the papers of the forgery-case of which he had avowed himself the hero, there was every reason to believe that he was quite right when he declared to his son that all he wanted to ensure his freedom was MONEY.
As to that handsome young son himself, if he ever met the fate he deserved, it must have been far from the scene of the adventures which we have recounted of him; for the last parental act of his adored grandfather, was to send him off with money sufficient to pay his passage back to Barbadoes — but with the assurance that, if he were ever heard of again in the neighbourhood, he would have to stand his trial as accomplice in the robbery, for the perpetration of which he had been seen by many witnesses to hold the candle.
It is hardly necessary to state that the repentant and greatly ashamed Mr. Mathews made a will, by which he bequeathed all his property, and all the right of ultimately disposing of it, to his happy and forgiving wife. But the adventures of that fortunate but very alarming night, affected the poor old gentleman much more severely than it did the bold hero of it; for he fell into a weak state, both of body and mind after it, from which he never recovered, and which carried him off, under the influence of a rapid dropsy, in rather less than a year after the death of Mr. King.
And, then, where could Sir Herbert Otterborne have found a wife so every way calculated to make a prudent match for him as the orphan-daughter of John Anderson?
When the marriage was first arranged, it was agreed amongst the superlatively happy parties concerned, that Mrs. Mathews, having settled the whole of her property, after her death, upon her adopted child, should allow her a thousand a-year from the day of her marriage; and upon being made acquainted with this arrangement, Lady Otterborne’s maid-of-all-work immediately opened the windows of the second-best drawing-room and the small dining-room.
But just before the marriage actually took place, and while the affianced lovers and their respective mothers were enjoying a very happy evening together at the Manor-house, Janet suddenly exclaimed, upon hearing that the carriage of Mrs. Mathews was arrived to convey them home—” Oh, mother! how I wish that we were all going to live together always!”
This was not a knavish speech; neither did it sleep in any foolish ear. In less than three days afterwards it was settled among them that they should live altogether always. A “den” was found for Mrs. Mathews; and it must have been a very convenient den, for never did my heroine regret for an instant that she had made the exchange. But she still showed her partiality for a private and separate allowance of five hundred a-year for her whims. Nevertheless, as the “doubtful mortgage,” when tested by the lawyers, whom they could now contrive to pay, was declared to be no mortgage at all, the remainder of the Widow Mathews’ income sufficed to induce the Said maid-of-all-work to open all the other windows of the noble old mansion. Nay, she pronounced, with an air of unanswerable authority, that the venison-dishes and the soup-tureens were more likely to be in requisition now, without any infringement on the present well-ordered economy of the household, than they had ever been for the last thirty years; which was exactly the period at which that splendid man of fashion, the late Sir Charles, had come into possession of the estate.
THE END
GERTRUDE
OR, FAMILY PRIDE
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXX.
CHAPTER XXXI.
CHAPTER XXXII.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
CHAPTER XXXV.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
CHAPTER XL.
CHAPTER XLI.
CHAPTER XLII.
CHAPTER XLIII.
CHAPTER XLIV.
CHAPTER XLV.
CHAPTER XLVI.
CHAPTER XLVII.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
CHAPTER XLIX.
CHAPTER L.
CHAPTER LI.
CHAPTER LII.
CHAPTER LIII.
CHAPTER LIV.
CHAPTER LV.
CHAPTER LVI.
CHAPTER LVII.
The first edition’s title page
CHAPTER I.
IN sitting oneself down to the somewhat idle occupation of “Old tales telling of loves long ago,” it is much safer, for many reasons, to give fictitious names to the various scenes in which the circumstances occurred, than to challenge the criticism which might discover either to much, or too little of truth in the details, were the real names to be given.
Most of the circumstances upon which the following story is founded, occurred in Germany, and it is therefore to Ge
rmany that I will beg my reader to follow me.
It was upon a very fine morning in the month of June, that two individuals, who are the first of my dramatis personae to be presented to him, might have been seen climbing steadily and perseveringly, but at no very rapid pace, the steep hill which overhangs the pretty little town to which I shall give the name of Hindsdorf.
These two travellers were neither mounted knights “pricking o’er the plain,” or the hill either; nor had they, in truth, the appearance of belonging to any station to which the act of walking was not likely to be the ordinary mode of conveyance along any highways, or bye-ways, by which it might be necessary for them to travel.
But, nevertheless, few could have looked at them steadily for one moment without feeling inclined to bestow a second, for the purpose of looking at them again; for both were very decidedly well-looking, and being male and female, it would have been difficult not to believe that the earnestness with which they were conversing, and the deep attention with which each looked at, and listened to, the other, proceeded from that tender passion which is universally considered as being particularly interesting.
Both were in the earliest bright perfection of adult comeliness, but the girl looked somewhat the elder of the two. This was not the case, however, for the young man was three years her senior; but being, as Rosalind says of herself, “more than common tall,” and having, moreover, a remarkably firm step, and Upright carriage, the girl looked considerably older than she was. The dress of both was scrupulously neat, but shewed no pretension beyond the Sunday garb of decent, well-conditioned peasants.
If examined by a critical eye, however, the young man might have been suspected to be of a higher class than his companion, for his linen was of a finer fabric than the most gala attire is thought to render necessary among persons of the rank to which it seemed evident that he belonged.
Any one within reach of hearing, as well as seeing them, as they pursued their way, would have discovered that there was a difference of opinion between them, or some very interesting point which they were discussing, notwithstanding the air of love and devotion which each seemed to feel for the other.
“Fear nothing, my dear friend!” said the beautiful, tall, upright girl, as she stepped firmly and actively on beside her companion; “fear neither harshness, nor difficulty of any kind, from the venerable man we are about to visit. All will go smoothly with us, depend upon it.”
And then, after the silence of a moment, she added, the words however, being tempered by a most lovely smile, “Nay! I will turn round, and run away! I will indeed, if you permit yourself to be thus overpowered by terror. Why, your arm positively trembles!”
“And can you wonder it should tremble?” he replied, looking at her almost reproachfully. “Oh! do you not tremble too!”
“Nay, take my hand, and hold it steadily,” she replied, laughingly. “Do you find any sympton of trembling, my good man?”
“Surely, surely, you cannot love me as I love you, or you could not be thus brave at contemplating the possibility of our being parted for ever!” he answered, in a voice of deep emotion, as he pressed the hand she placed in his.
“But I contemplate no such possibility,” she replied; adding, in a firm but gentle voice, well calculated to soothe the feelings which she affected to chide, “I contemplate nothing but the returning with you along this self-same path within an hour or so, as your wedded wife; and I see nothing in that at all lively to make me tremble.”
The young man only answered these cheering words by a passionate caress, and then they pursued their way in silence for a minute or two.
But this silence was again soon broken by him, for, in a tone which sounded a little as if he were relapsing into the fears for which he had been chidden, he ventured to whisper, “But if this priest should declare that he would not marry us? If he should say that it was his duty to be assured of the consent of our parents and friends?”
“Why, in that case, my good man,” returned his still smiling companion, “in that case, we must take our leave of him very respectfully, and betake ourselves and our wedding-fee to another.”
“But do you not rest too much hope and faith upon that large wedding-fee, dearest?” said the youth, shaking his head.
“It is possible I may,” she replied; “but till experience teaches me the contrary, I am strong, very strong, in the faith and hope which the amount of it inspires. They say, that is, the worldly-wise, 8f course; but the worldly-wise do say that the priesthood (of the present day) have a great respect for money. Perhaps they think that the possession of it may enable them to do much good. And they are right there, my friend. Money is certainly a powerful agent, either for good or evil, as the case may be. If he be a reasoning, right-thinking man, he cannot fail to perceive, from the amount of the sum we are about to offer him, that the attachment between us is a very true one. It must be a rare thing for people of our station to offer so large a sum for the purpose of being permitted to enter the pale of holy matrimony. And though it is likely enough that he will guess, from the secret manner in which we present ourselves, that our respective parents are probably at feud, and, therefore, would oppose the marriage, he must, at the same time, be aware that there would a great and useless cruelty in attempting to keep asunder a pair who love each other well enough to part with a sum which, of course, must be so important to them! Moreover, a very little common sense will suffice to convince him that, if he will not marry us, some other priest will.”
This conversation, earnest as it was, had not impeded their pace, and they had now reached the summit of the hill they had long been ascending. The level they had thus obtained, however, did not continue above a quarter of a mile, before they arrived at a somewhat steep declivity on the other side, which terminated in the little town which they trusted would prove the termination of their excursion; for there dwelt the priest whom they hoped would consent to unite them in the bonds of holy wedlock.
The young girl had never visited this little town before, but it was sufficiently well known to her companion, to enable him, as they descended the hill, to point out to her the dwelling of the priest whom they came to seek; which humble dwelling seemed to make part and parcel of the little church within whose walls they hoped to receive the benediction which was to insure their mutual happiness for life. Something like a tremor seemed to pass over her, however, as he pointed out the spot, and said, “There is the church, dearest; and there, under the same roof, as it should seem, is the dwelling of the priest.
He felt that she trembled as he pronounced these words, and suddenly stopping, he dropped the arm which rested on his, and placing himself directly before her, he fixed his earnestly enquiring eyes upon her face, and said, “Do YOU REPENT? It is not yet too late to say say. Speak!”
The young girl did not immediately obey him. She did not speak, but she fixed her eloquent eyes upon his face, and let them speak for her; and truly it may be doubted, if a more perfect model of human beauty, than she then gazed upon, ever met the eye of a mortal, since the original of the Apollo stood before the statuary who has given him an earthly immortality.
She looked at him very fixedly for a moment; and then she sighed. But it was the sigh of tenderness, and of passion. Regret had nothing to do with it; and in the next moment she smiled again, and smilingly recovered possession of his arm, and drawing him back to his place at her side, only replied to his question by a gentle pressure, and an accelerated pace.
His reply to this silent decision was also given in silence. A look, and again a gentle pressure of the arm, said quite as much as any words could have done, A few moments brought them to the arched gateway of the little town of Hindsdorf, and a few more to the door of the priest’s house.
“Was the priest at home?” was the question asked with trembling eagerness by the young man. The answer was in the affirmative, and about two steps more brought them from the humble door of the house to another equally humble, which opened
upon a small snug room, near the open window of which sat the holy man, whose services they came to purchase; he held a book in his band, but his eyes were fixed upon the blooming little flower-garden, on which the window opened.
It would not have been very easy for even more experienced eyes to have formed any very decided opinion upon the temper and character of the man whose face was turned towards them, as soon as she became aware that the door of the room was opened. His age appeared to be about sixty, or something beyond it, but though rather a spare man, he had still a look of health and activity, and his eye had lost nothing of the keen expression for which it must ever have been remarkable.
The old woman who had admitted our lovers, lingered for a moment in the doorway, as if wishing to hear them declare their errand; but her master checked her indiscretion by saying, in an accent which was, however, only remarkable from its peculiar distinctness, “Shut the door.”
This command was as promptly obeyed as it was given; and then the old man turned to his two young visitors, and said, “What is your business?”
“We are come to Hindsdorf to be married,” replied the young man, without adding another syllable.
The old priest looked at them both rather earnestly for a moment, and then raised his eye-brows, and shook his head. Any description of the scene which followed would be quite superfluous; it is enough to say, that the young girl had not rested a vain hope upon the influence of the wedding fee which they had contrived to bring with them. The names of both were equally, and utterly unknown to the old man, whereas the value of their gold was a matter of no mystery whatever.
Nor did he think it necessary to make any great difficulty about the matter. He very hospitably regaled them with the best refreshment which his house afforded, and exerted himself very actively while they were engaged in taking it, in order to get everything in order for the ceremony which was to follow.
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