Volume II Part 9 (1/2)
”But at least she might have been threatened with trial?”
”She was: twice she was committed to custody and underwent rigorous examinations before a whole board of magistrates: but to what end? She was as wild as the sea, as intractable as the wind. What threats, indeed, what voice, what sound--except it were the sound of the last trumpet wakening her from the grave--shall ever again alarm her? What cares she for judge or jury? The last sentence, that _she_ could fear, rang in her ears long years ago at Walladmor. That dreadful voice, as it sounded in the great hall of Walladmor Castle when it gave up her blooming boy to the scaffold, still sounds in her adder's ear; and it< is=”” deaf=”” to=”” all=”” sounds=””>
”Yet surely Sir Morgan must be distressed at seeing her: and yesterday----”
”I know what you would say, Mr. Bertram: yesterday you saw her walking freely about the castle. True. But, for the purposes I have already explained, it is necessary to give her free access to the castle; and she comes so seldom that she is now a privileged person with licence to range where she will. Nay, Sir Morgan would court her hither with gifts--and rain bounties upon her, if she would accept them. This desire of having her before his eyes, Mr. Bertram, is a fantastic and wayward expression of misery--one of those tricks of sorrow--most apt to haunt the n.o.blest minds. Some have worn about their persons the symbols, the instruments, or the mementos of their guilt: and in Mrs.
G.o.dber Sir Morgan sees a living memorial of what he now deems his crime and of its punishment; a record (as he says himself) of his own unpitying heart--and of the bitter judgment that recalled him to more merciful thoughts.
”I think him right:--in the Greek tragedians, who sometimes teach us Christians better morality than (I am sorry to say) we teach ourselves, there is a sentiment often repeated--which I dare say, Mr. Bertram, you remember: it is to this effect,--That it is ominous of evil to come--for any man to express, by his words or acts, that he glories in his own prosperity as though it were of his own creation, or held by the tenure of his own merits. Now this is in effect the very crime of him that, being born of woman, yet hardens his heart against the prostrate supplications of a human brother or sister. For how would _he_ refuse to show mercy, that did not think himself raised above the possibility of needing it?
”Yes, Sir Morgan is right; his own sad recollections tell him that he is; and often have I heard him say--That, from that memorable moment when, looking back as he ascended the great stair-case, he beheld in the centre of his hall the unhappy mother prostrate and writhing upon the ground--read the pangs that were in her face--and the curse that was in her eye, from that moment he turned away like one already reached by her vengeance; and never again had thought--moved--talked-- slept--or dreamed--as they think--move--talk--sleep and dream that have the blessedness of an untroubled conscience, and against whom no record is filed in the courts of heaven on which are written the tears of the afflicted or the crimes of the despairing.”
FOOTNOTES TO ”CHAPTER XVIII.”:
[Footnote 1: Modesty forbids us to say _which_: but a truth is a truth: and his favorite volume, we understand, was in ”post 8vo.”]
[Footnote 2: Winter's Tale.]
CHAPTER XIX.
_Penthea._ First his heart Shall fall in cinders, scorch'd by your disdain, Ere he will dare, poor man, to ope an eye On these divine looks, but with low-bent thoughts Accusing such presumption: as for words, He dares not utter any but of service.
Yet this lost creature loves ye!
FORD. _The Broken Heart_--Act 3.
At this moment the bugle of the cavalry called the attention of Mr.
Williams and Bertram: they were mounting in some hurry, and leaving the castle upon private intelligence just received by Sir Charles Davenant.
All that could be learned of the occasion which summoned them on duty was--that some attack, supposed to be headed by Captain Nicholas, was this evening meditated on a depot of horses designed for remounting one troop of the dragoons: this depot had been recently formed in the neighbourhood of Walladmor for the purpose of receiving horses purchased at different fairs on the borders. But with what design could Captain Nicholas attack it? No doubt to mount a party from some one or more of the various smuggling vessels on the coast. ”But with what further end?” asked Bertram: ”or why, being under so serious a charge--and a high reward offered for his apprehension, does he still linger in this neighbourhood?”
”I imagine,” said Mr. Williams, ”that the ordinary motives on which men are careful of their lives are wanting to Captain Nicholas, and have been for some time: and just at this moment his old feelings of jealousy, or rather of anxiety and irritation, are perhaps revived by the presence of Sir Charles Davenant.--You are aware probably that Sir Charles was formerly a suitor of Miss Walladmor's, and rejected only through the firmness of that lady; for his pretensions had the countenance and support of all her friends. Apart from Sir Charles's great expectations, which ent.i.tled him to look as high, he was encouraged by some members of the family, not so much on his own account as with a view of extinguis.h.i.+ng the hopes of Captain Nicholas; of whose long devotion to Miss Walladmor I presume that you must by this time have heard.”
”Some little I have heard,” replied Bertram; ”and some little I have collected from my own observations and the benefit of accident. Under what circ.u.mstances however this attachment commenced, or of its history, I know absolutely nothing. I do not even know who Captain Nicholas is: nor can I form any reasonable conjecture in what way or upon what pretensions a person, connected with smugglers and people of that cla.s.s, could ever be led to aspire to the favor of the heiress of Walladmor.”
”Who Captain Nicholas is--you will not find any body able to tell you: his origin is a mystery to all people, and himself amongst the number.
But, as to his connection with smugglers, _that_ is but an accident in his early life which he now renews for temporary purposes, as he has done once or twice before. I acknowledge that I take a good deal of interest in Captain Nicholas: and Sir Morgan feels upon that subject as I do. Many circ.u.mstances of great generosity in his conduct have at times came to our knowledge: deep and persevering love is itself a proof of some n.o.bility in a man's nature; more especially when it is nearly hopeless; and where it is certain that a man has refused all dishonourable means for aiding his own success. Many times Captain Nicholas has had it in his power to carry off Miss Walladmor to sea, and at one time without any risk of discovery. And, if _that_ was not the way to win the favor of a n.o.ble-minded woman, still that a man so wildly educated should feel that it was not--and that a despairing man should resist all temptations which deep love and opportunity combined to offer, implies an elevation of mind which alone would have attracted some degree of regard to Captain Nicholas: independently of which he is a man of various accomplishments, great address, intrepidity, dignified manners, and---as I have heard--an excellent officer both in the sea and land services.”
”But how came he first connected with smugglers; and what introduced him to the notice of Miss Walladmor?”
”All, that I know of his history, is this: About eight years ago, when he was little more than fifteen years old, he first appeared on this coast in character of son, or more properly (I believe) adopted son, of Captain Donneraile who commanded a large Dutch vessel of suspicious character, which had long resorted to these seas. She gave herself out for a regular merchantman, but was pretty well understood to be a smuggler as opportunities offered. Edward Nicholas, as I have said, pa.s.sed for the Captain's son: and in that character, as well as for his personal qualities, was much looked up to by the crew. Such indeed was the hardihood and romantic spirit of enterprise with which he conducted the difficult affairs sometimes confided to him--that Captain Donneraile, who was old and indolent, gradually allowed the command of the s.h.i.+p to devolve on him; and at the age of sixteen he was much more the commander of the vessel than the nominal captain. This habit of early command over a large and warlike crew, tempered by good nature and great generosity of disposition, gave to his manners a tincture of dignity much beyond his situation. These manners and this disposition, united with his fine person and countenance, conciliated the kind feelings of all about him; and he was a great favorite with the s.h.i.+p's company as well as with the country people on sh.o.r.e. Many of his boyish exploits are current at this day amongst them,--and his affrays with the revenue officers, or hair-breadth escapes from them, are still narrated with interest. In all these however he seemed rather to be amusing himself, than like one who considered them as his regular occupation. In the same spirit he attached himself for a time to a company of strolling players. And that this was the just construction of his temper and purposes--is evident from the sequel. When he was about eighteen, old Captain Donneraile died, and left a considerable legacy together with the s.h.i.+p of which he was sole owner to Edward Nicholas. This s.h.i.+p, and such of the crew as would follow him to those climates, he carried to South America,--and entered into the patriotic service of one of the new republics in that quarter of the world. There he rose to considerable distinction, and at one time commanded a frigate. Afterwards, under some adverse circ.u.mstances attending the naval administration, he transferred himself to the land service; and served with high reputation first as a partizan officer in the guerrilla warfare, afterwards in the regular cavalry. Some change of circ.u.mstances made it advisable to restore the naval force; and with the view of manning a small flotilla with a proportion of picked British seamen, he returned to the old haunts of his youth in this country--hoping to find it still the rendezvous of smugglers. This happened just four years and a half ago; and then it was that his connexion commenced with Miss Walladmor--a connexion which has since determined the whole course of his life.
”Miss Walladmor was at that time not more than sixteen years old: she was exquisitely beautiful; and, though prematurely womanly in the developement of her person, had yet an expression of almost childlike innocence in her style of countenance which made it peculiarly charming. Edward Nicholas first saw her in the woods of Tre Mawr from a situation where he was himself unseen; and so powerfully was he fascinated that from that hour he abandoned all his schemes in South America. Morning, noon, and night, he spent in devising some means of introducing himself to her notice: but love, where it is deep and pure, is also timid--delicate--and reverential. Captain Nicholas, moreover, was aware of Miss Walladmor's rank and expectations: these, on many accounts, as they tended to misinterpret his motives, made him shy of intruding himself upon her notice. But at length chance did for him what he could never have done for himself. In the woods of Tre Mawr ridings are cut in all directions, and for many miles: these, being on the Walladmor domain and so near to the park, are considered part of the grounds; and Miss Walladmor was accustomed to ride here almost daily without attendants. This was soon discovered by Captain Nicholas, and he lay concealed here whole days together with the mere hope of seeing her for a moment. On one of these occasions her horse stumbled over the root of a tree, and on recovering himself ran away: he was rapidly carrying her into a situation of extreme peril amongst the precipices of Ap Gauvon, when Captain Nicholas, who was lurking about on his usual errand, and saw the whole from a distance, stept out from a thicket as the horse approached--crossed him--seized the rein--and saved her. This was the best possible introduction: and all the rest followed naturally. Miss Walladmor had every excuse: she was a mere child, and quite inexperienced: Captain Nicholas--who had from his youth been placed in stations of command, and had just come from a service in which as an Englishman he had been greatly respected and admitted to intimacy with the staff of the patriot army,--was distinguished by a remarkable dignity of manners and deportment: the style of his sentiments, naturally lofty, was now exalted by love: and finally he had in all probability saved Miss Walladmor's life. These were strong appeals to a young heart: doubtless it did not weaken them that the n.o.ble expression of his countenance was then embellished by the graces of early youth (for he was not twenty), and yet unsaddened by internal suffering--which has since given him the look of a person older than he really is. Above all perhaps there pleaded for him in Miss Walladmor's heart--that which must always plead powerfully with a woman of virtuous sensibilities--the display which every look, word, and gesture, made of his profound and pa.s.sionate devotion. 'Never'
indeed (to quote our great poet, Mr. Bertram)--
”----never did young man fancy With so eternal and so fix'd a soul:”[1]
”He hallowed the very air she breathed; doated on the very hem of her garments; wors.h.i.+pped the very ground she trod on. This child, this innocent child (for she was no more), guided the wild ungovernable creature as absolutely and as easily as a mother guides her infant: and, if Captain Nicholas had always been under such guidance, no tongue (as I will warrant) would ever have had any cause to make free with his name: there is no such a safeguard in this world to a young man under the temptations which life presents as deep love for a virtuous woman.