Part 67 (2/2)
”No, none,” said Brenda; ”if I had any, do you think I would urge you thus? He is wild and unhappy, but I think we may in this trust him.”
”Is the appointed place the Standing Stones, and the time daybreak?”
again demanded Mordaunt.
”It is, and the time is come,” said Brenda,--”for Heaven's sake let us depart!”
”I will myself,” said Mordaunt, ”relieve the sentinel at the front door for a few minutes, and suffer you to pa.s.s.--You will not protract this interview, so full of danger?”
”We will not,” said Brenda; ”and you, on your part, will not avail yourself of this unhappy man's venturing hither, to harm or to seize him?”
”Rely on my honour,” said Mordaunt--”He shall have no harm, unless he offers any.”
”Then I go to call my sister,” said Brenda, and quickly left the apartment.
Mordaunt considered the matter for an instant, and then going to the sentinel at the front door, he desired him to run instantly to the main-guard, and order the whole to turn out with their arms--to see the order obeyed, and to return when they were in readiness. Meantime, he himself, he said, would remain upon the post.
During the interval of the sentinel's absence, the front door was slowly opened, and Minna and Brenda appeared, m.u.f.fled in their mantles. The former leaned on her sister, and kept her face bent on the ground, as one who felt ashamed of the step she was about to take. Brenda also pa.s.sed her lover in silence, but threw back upon him a look of grat.i.tude and affection, which doubled, if possible, his anxiety for their safety.
The sisters, in the meanwhile, pa.s.sed out of sight of the house; when Minna, whose step, till that time, had been faint and feeble, began to erect her person, and to walk with a pace so firm and so swift, that Brenda, who had some difficulty to keep up with her, could not forbear remonstrating on the imprudence of hurrying her spirits, and exhausting her force, by such unnecessary haste.
”Fear not, my dearest sister,” said Minna; ”the spirit which I now feel will, and must, sustain me through the dreadful interview. I could not but move with a drooping head, and dejected pace, while I was in view of one who must necessarily deem me deserving of his pity, or his scorn.
But you know, my dearest Brenda, and Mordaunt shall also know, that the love I bore to that unhappy man, was as pure as the rays of that sun, that is now reflected on the waves. And I dare attest that glorious sun, and yonder blue heaven, to bear me witness, that, but to urge him to change his unhappy course of life, I had not, for all the temptations this round world holds, ever consented to see him more.”
As she spoke thus, in a tone which afforded much confidence to Brenda, the sisters attained the summit of a rising ground, whence they commanded a full view of the Orcadian Stonehenge, consisting of a huge circle and semicircle of the Standing Stones, as they are called, which already glimmered a greyish white in the rising sun, and projected far to the westward their long gigantic shadows. At another time, the scene would have operated powerfully on the imaginative mind of Minna, and interested the curiosity at least of her less sensitive sister. But, at this moment, neither was at leisure to receive the impressions which this stupendous monument of antiquity is so well calculated to impress on the feelings of those who behold it; for they saw, in the lower lake, beneath what is termed the Bridge of Broisgar, a boat well manned and armed, which had disembarked one of its crew, who advanced alone, and wrapped in a naval cloak, towards that monumental circle which they themselves were about to reach from another quarter.
”They are many, and they are armed,” said the startled Brenda, in a whisper to her sister.
”It is for precaution's sake,” answered Minna, ”which, alas, their condition renders but too necessary. Fear no treachery from him--that, at least, is not his vice.”
As she spoke, or shortly afterwards, she attained the centre of the circle, on which, in the midst of the tall erect pillars of rude stone that are raised around, lies one flat and prostrate, supported by short stone pillars, of which some relics are still visible, that had once served, perhaps, the purpose of an altar.
”Here,” she said, ”in heathen times (if we may believe legends, which have cost me but too dear) our ancestors offered sacrifices to heathen deities--and here will I, from my soul, renounce, abjure, and offer up to a better and a more merciful G.o.d than was known to them, the vain ideas with which my youthful imagination has been seduced.”
She stood by the prostrate table of stone, and saw Cleveland advance towards her, with a timid pace, and a downcast look, as different from his usual character and bearing, as Minna's high air and lofty demeanour, and calm contemplative posture, were distant from those of the love-lorn and broken-hearted maiden, whose weight had almost borne down the support of her sister as she left the House of Stennis. If the belief of those is true, who a.s.sign these singular monuments exclusively to the Druids, Minna might have seemed the Haxa, or high priestess of the order, from whom some champion of the tribe expected inauguration.
Or, if we hold the circles of Gothic and Scandinavian origin, she might have seemed a descended Vision of Freya, the spouse of the Thundering Deity, before whom some bold Sea-King or champion bent with an awe, which no mere mortal terror could have inflicted upon him. Brenda, overwhelmed with inexpressible fear and doubt, remained a pace or two behind, anxiously observing the motions of Cleveland, and attending to nothing around, save to him and to her sister.
Cleveland approached within two yards of Minna, and bent his head to the ground. There was a dead pause, until Minna said, in a firm but melancholy tone, ”Unhappy man, why didst thou seek this aggravation of our woe? Depart in peace, and may Heaven direct thee to a better course than that which thy life has yet held!”
”Heaven will not aid me,” said Cleveland, ”excepting by your voice. I came hither rude and wild, scarce knowing that my trade, my desperate trade, was more criminal in the sight of man or of Heaven, than that of those privateers whom your law acknowledges. I was bred in it, and, but for the wishes you have encouraged me to form, I should have perhaps died in it, desperate and impenitent. O, do not throw me from you! let me do something to redeem what I have done amiss, and do not leave your own work half-finished!”
”Cleveland,” said Minna, ”I will not reproach you with abusing my inexperience, or with availing yourself of those delusions which the credulity of early youth had flung around me, and which led me to confound your fatal course of life with the deeds of our ancient heroes.
Alas, when I saw your followers, that illusion was no more!--but I do not upbraid you with its having existed. Go, Cleveland; detach yourself from those miserable wretches with whom you are a.s.sociated, and believe me, that if Heaven yet grants you the means of distinguis.h.i.+ng your name by one good or glorious action, there are eyes left in those lonely islands, that will weep as much for joy, as--as--they must now do for sorrow.”
”And is this all?” said Cleveland; ”and may I not hope, that if I extricate myself from my present a.s.sociates--if I can gain my pardon by being as bold in the right, as I have been too often in the wrong cause--if, after a term, I care not how long--but still a term which may have an end, I can boast of having redeemed my fame--may I not--may I not hope that Minna may forgive what my G.o.d and my country shall have pardoned?”
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