Part 9 (2/2)
Gilbert's heart was well-nigh bursting with anxiety as they strode along. When they reached the point where the corridor branched off into many smaller pa.s.sages, Linda entered one that opened through a sharp-arched door upon the top of a battlemented tower. The youth felt relieved by the cold, damp wind that drove through the aperture against his burning cheeks. As they reached a recess near the tower, Linda stopped and leaned against a b.u.t.tress with her arms crossed on her breast. At this moment, Gilbert became aware of the presence of a third figure, m.u.f.fled from head to foot in a mantle of fur; he felt that the Lady Margaret stood before him, but all his gallant resolutions melted away, and he remained mute and motionless, powerless to speak or act.
Apparently unconscious of Gilbert's presence, the lady stepped within the recess and knelt before a statue of the _Mater Dolorosa_; the youth was awed and abashed: he began to consider his daring adventure an unwarrantable intrusion; he meditating kissing the hem of her garment and retiring with all his love unspoken. In the midst of his suspense Margaret arose and confronted him; her manner was formal and dignified without being cold or stern.
”Are you Gilbert de Hers?” she said, in an undertone, but her voice was firm and clear.
Gilbert bowed, but made no other reply.
”What is your motive in coming here?” pursued the maiden, still calmly.
The youth was silent, his eyes fixed on the pavement.
”Why have you come so mysteriously--in such a strange disguise?”
But still no answer came.
”Are you here,” continued his fair questioner, with more emphasis, ”on a hostile mission? Are you seeking vengeance on our house by stealth? Are you engaged in the prosecution of some criminal vow to injure us? Speak!
Have you come to draw blood?”
”No, no!” muttered Gilbert, finding voice at last; ”I bear your house no enmity.”
”Beware!” said the lady. ”Remember that for years you have been our professed and bitter enemy.”
”I was your enemy. I solemnly declare myself one no longer.”
”Then what has impelled you to this step? Is it an idle curiosity--a mere piece of bravado?” Gilbert made no reply.
”Is the object of your visit fulfilled? If so, fly at once! Your life is in danger--you cannot long escape detection--it is dangerous to tempt my father. Go! you will find none else here to listen to your denial of an inimical intent in this reckless deception.”
”My object is but half fulfilled!” exclaimed the youth, throwing himself at the Lady Margaret's feet.
It would argue a poor knowledge of the quick apprehension of woman, to say that the maiden was entirely unprepared for such a movement; but the suddenness of the demonstration made her start. Gilbert's embarra.s.sment had disappeared in his fervor. He no longer stammered and stuttered, but with unhesitating eloquence went through that ancient but ever fresh story, found in the mouths of all suitors in all ages. Linda stood with her eyes and mouth distended, looking as though she had been petrified just as she was about to scream. It was rather a poor omen for Gilbert that Margaret should have turned to the old servant, who had advanced a pace, and calmly motioned her back to her corner. The daughter of Stramen listened to Gilbert's pa.s.sionate professions with the air of one who was hearing the same vows, from the same person, under similar circ.u.mstances for the second time. She could scarcely have foreseen this, but there is no estimating the power of antic.i.p.ation it is the mother of much presence of mind and unpremeditated wit.
After reciting the history of his love from its dawn to its zenith, Gilbert began to conjure her not to slight his affection, and not to permit family prejudices to stand in the way of their union.
”It can never be sufficiently lamented,” he said, ”that the demon of revenge has so long separated our houses, which ought to be united in the closest ties of friends.h.i.+p. It is time for us to learn to forgive.
We have been too long aliens from G.o.d, and wedded to our evil pa.s.sions.
We must fling aside the scowl of defiance, the angry malediction, the sword and the firebrand, and, like Christians and neighbors, contract an alliance that may edify as much as our discord has scandalized. I conjure you, in the name of the victims already made by our feud--of the numbers who must perish by its continuance--in the name of the holy Church whose precepts we have disregarded, of the G.o.d whose Commandments we have violated, not to dismiss me in scorn and anger. I have perilled my life, that I might end our enmity in love.”
”I am most happy,” interposed the Lady Margaret, availing herself of the first pause in his rapid utterance, ”I am most happy,” she repeated, in a voice of singular sweetness, ”that our enmity may end in love--”
A smile of exultation shot over Gilbert's face, and a sound of joy trembled on his lips. This did not escape the maiden, for she instantly added:
”But not in the love you propose!”
The light was gone from Gilbert's countenance, and he stared wildly into the lovely and mournful face before him.
”Not in the love you propose,” she resumed. Hitherto she had spoken seriously and without agitation, but now her whole manner was changed.
Her cheek glowed and her eyes gleamed: a sudden animation appeared in every limb. She took a step forward, and bent over the still kneeling youth, fixing upon his a steady, penetrating gaze, as though she sought to read his inmost soul.
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