Part 16 (1/2)

This very moral lay being ended, Mrs. Slopperton declared it was excellent; though she confessed she thought the sentiments rather loose.

Perhaps the gentleman might be induced to favour them with a song of a more refined and modern turn,--something sentimental, in short. Glancing towards Lucy, the stranger answered that he only knew one song of the kind Mrs. Slopperton specified, and it was so short that he could scarcely weary her patience by granting her request.

At this moment the river, which was easily descried from the windows of the room, glimmered in the starlight; and directing his looks towards the water, as if the scene had suggested to him the verses he sung, he gave the following stanzas in a very low, sweet tone, and with a far purer taste, than, perhaps, would have suited the preceding and ruder song.

THE WISH.

As sleeps the dreaming Eve below, Its holiest star keeps ward above, And yonder wave begins to glow, Like friends.h.i.+p bright'ning into Love!

Ah, would thy bosom were that stream, Ne'er wooed save by the virgin air!-- Ah, would that I were that star, whose beam Looks down and finds its image there!

Scarcely was the song ended, before the arrival of Miss Brandon's servant was announced; and her destined escort, starting up, gallantly a.s.sisted her with her cloak and her hood,--happy, no doubt, to escape in some measure the overwhelming compliments of his entertainers.

”But,” said the doctor, as he shook hands with his deliverer, ”by what name shall I remember and” (lifting his reverend eyes) ”pray for the gentleman to whom I am so much indebted?”

”You are very kind,” said the stranger; ”my name is Clifford. Madam,”

turning to Lucy, ”may I offer my hand down the stairs?”

Lucy accepted the courtesy; and the stranger was half-way down the staircase, when the doctor, stretching out his little neck, exclaimed,--

”Good-evening, sir! I do hope we shall meet again.”

”Fear not!” said Mr. Clifford, laughing gayly; ”I am too great a traveller to make that hope a matter of impossibility. Take care, madam,--one step more.”

The night was calm and tolerably clear, though the moon had not yet risen, as Lucy and her companion pa.s.sed through the fields, with the servant preceding them at a little distance with the lantern.

After a pause of some length, Clifford said, with a little hesitation, ”Is Miss Brandon related to the celebrated barrister of her name?”

”He is my uncle,” said Lucy; ”do you know him?”

”Only your uncle?” said Clifford, with vivacity, and evading Lucy's question. ”I feared--hem! hem!--that is, I thought he might have been a nearer relation.” There was another, but a shorter pause, when Clifford resumed, in a low voice: ”Will Miss Brandon think me very presumptuous if I say that a countenance like hers, once seen, can never be forgotten; and I believe, some years since, I had the honour to see her in London, at the theatre? It was but a momentary and distant glance that I was then enabled to gain; and yet,” he added significantly, ”it sufficed!”

”I was only once at the theatre while in London, some years ago,” said Lucy, a little embarra.s.sed; ”and indeed an unpleasant occurrence which happened to my uncle, with whom I was, is sufficient to make me remember it.”

”Ha! and what was it?”

”Why, in going out of the play-house his watch was stolen by some dexterous pickpocket.”

”Was the rogue caught?” asked the stranger.

”Yes; and was sent the next day to Bridewell. My uncle said he was extremely young, and yet quite hardened. I remember that I was foolish enough, when I heard of his sentence, to beg very hard that my uncle would intercede for him; but in vain.”

”Did you, indeed, intercede for him?” said the stranger, in so earnest a tone that Lucy coloured for the twentieth time that night, without seeing any necessity for the blush. Clifford continued, in a gayer tone: ”Well, it is surprising how rogues hang together. I should not be greatly surprised if the person who despoiled your uncle were one of the same gang as the rascal who so terrified your worthy friend the doctor.

But is this handsome old place your home?”

”This is my home,” answered Lucy; ”but it is an old-fas.h.i.+oned, strange place; and few people, to whom it was not endeared by a.s.sociations, would think it handsome.”

”Pardon me!” said Lucy's companion, stopping, and surveying with a look of great interest the quaint pile, which now stood close before them; its dark bricks, gable-ends, and ivied walls, tinged by the starry light of the skies, and contrasted by the river, which rolled in silence below. The shutters to the large oriel window of the room in which the squire usually sat were still unclosed, and the steady and warm light of the apartment shone forth, casting a glow even to the smooth waters of the river; at the same moment, too, the friendly bark of the house-dog was heard, as in welcome; and was followed by the note of the great bell, announcing the hour for the last meal of the old-fas.h.i.+oned and hospitable family.