Volume II Part 2 (1/2)
Here the unhappy miller began to weep; but the lady was dumb with astonishment.
”Forgive me, lady, in this matter; but I was in a manner bound to accomplish mine errand.”
”And what if I should accompany thee? Wouldest thou be my champion, my protector from onslaught and evil?”
Here he opened his huge grey eyes to such an alarming extent that Eleanor had much ado to refrain from smiling.
”If you will go, lady, I shall be a living man; and you”--a dead woman, probably he would have said; but the denunciation did not escape his lips, and the joy and surprise of the wary miller were beyond utterance.
”But whence thy message, friend?” said the deluded maiden, eyeing him suspiciously.
”Why; the message was whispered in my ear. A stranger brought it together with a dismal threat should I not bring you at the time appointed.”
Here the miller again became uneasy and alarmed. A cold shudder crept over him, and he looked imploringly upon her.
”But they say, my trusty miller, that this chapel of the fairies may not be visited, forbidden as it is to all catholic and devout Christians, after nightfall.”
At this intimation the peccant miller displayed his broad thumbs, and looked so dolorous and apprehensive, sprawling out his large ungainly proportions, that Eleanor, though not p.r.o.ne to the indulgence of mirth, was mightily moved thereto by the cowardly and dismal aspect he betrayed.
”Nay, lady, I beseech you,” he stammered out. ”I am a dead dog--a piece of useless and unappropriated carrion, if you go not. Ha' pity on your poor knave, and deliver me from my tormentors!”
”Then to-morrow I will deliver thee,” said the maiden, ”and break thine enchantment. But the hour?”
”Ere the moonbeam touches the pillar in the Fairies' Hall.”
”Agreed, knave. So begone. Yet--and answer truly for thy life--was no pledge, no token, sent with this message?”
Ralph unwillingly drew forth the token from his belt. Fearful that it might divulge more than he wished, the treacherous messenger had kept back the tablets entrusted to him. He suspected that should she be aware it was the good people who were a-wanting her, he would have but a slender chance of success.
She glanced hastily, anxiously, over the page, though with great surprise.
”How now?” said she, thoughtfully. ”Here is a pretty love-billet truly. The page is fair and unspotted--fit emblem of a lover's thoughts.”
”You are to write thereon, lady, your lover's wish, and throw it into the brook here, hard by. The stream, a trusty messenger will carry it back to its owner.”
Ralph delivered his message with great reluctance, fearful lest she might be alarmed and retract her promise.
To his great joy, however, she placed the mystic token in her bosom, and bade him attend on the morrow.
This he promised faithfully; and with a light heart he returned to his abode.
Eleanor watched his departure with impatience. She took the tablets from her bosom. Horror seemed to fold his icy fingers round her heart.
She remembered the injunction. Her mind misgave her, and as she drew towards the lamp it shot forth a tremulous blaze and expired. Yet with desperate haste, bent, it might seem, on her own destruction, she hastily approached the window. The moonbeam shone full upon the page as she scrawled with great trepidation the word ”THINE.” To her unspeakable horror the letters became a track of fire, but as she gazed a drop of dark blood fell on them and obliterated the writing.
”Must the compact be in blood?” said she, evidently shrinking from this unhallowed pledge. ”Nay then, farewell! Thou art not of yon bright heaven. My hopes are yet there, whatever be thy doom! If thou art aught within the pale of mercy I am thine, but not in blood.”
Again, but on another page, she wrote the word ”THINE.” Again the blood-drop effaced the letters.
”Never, though I love thee! Why urge this compact?” With a trembling hand she retraced her pledge, and the omen was not repeated. She had dared much; but her hope of mercy was yet dearer than her heart's deep and overwhelming pa.s.sion. With joy she saw the writing was unchanged.
Throwing on her hood and kerchief, she stole forth to the brook, and in the rivulet, where it was yet dark and unfrozen, she threw the mystic tablet.