room for light to pass through, as well as from two or three heavy
buttresses, which projected from the front of the house, and exhibited
on their surface little niches for images. These had been carefully
destroyed, and pots of flowers were placed in the niches in their
stead, besides their being ornamented by creeping plants of various
kinds, fancifully twined around them. The garden was also in good
order; and though the spot was extremely solitary, there was about it
altogether an air of comfort, accommodation, and even elegance, by no
means generally characteristic of the habitations of the island at the
time.
With much circumspection, Julian Peveril approached the low Gothic
porch, which defended the entrance of the mansion from the tempests
incident to its situation, and was, like the buttresses, overrun with
ivy and other creeping plants. An iron ring, contrived so as when
drawn up and down to rattle against the bar of notched iron through
which it was suspended, served the purpose of a knocker; and to this
he applied himself, though with the greatest precaution.
He received no answer for some time, and indeed it seemed as if the
house was totally uninhabited; when, at length, his impatience getting
the upper hand, he tried to open the door, and, as it was only upon
the latch, very easily succeeded. He passed through a little low-
arched hall, the upper end of which was occupied by a staircase, and
turning to the left, opened the door of a summer parlour, wainscoted
with black oak, and very simply furnished with chairs and tables of
the same materials; the former cushioned with the leather. The
apartment was gloomy - one of those stone-shafted windows which we have
mentioned, with its small latticed panes, and thick garland of
foliage, admitting but an imperfect light.
Over the chimneypiece (which was of the same massive materials with
the panelling of the apartment) was the only ornament of the room; a
painting, namely, representing an officer in the military dress of the
Civil Wars. It was a green jerkin, then the national and peculiar wear
of the Manxmen; his short band which hung down on the cuirass - the
orange-coloured scarf, but, above all, the shortness of his close-cut
hair, showing evidently to which of the great parties he had belonged.
His right hand rested on the hilt of his sword; and in the left he
held a small Bible, bearing the inscription, "/In hoc signo/." The
countenance was of a light complexion, with fair and almost effeminate
blue eyes, and an oval form of face - one of those physiognomies, to
which, though not otherwise unpleasing, we naturally attach the idea
of melancholy and of misfortune.[*] Apparently it was well known to
Julian Peveril; for after having looked at it for a long time, he
could not forbear muttering aloud, "What would I give that that man
had never been born, or that he still lived!"
[*] I am told that a portrait of the unfortunate William Christian is
still preserved in the family of Waterson of Ballnabow of Kirk
Church, Rushin. William Dhône is dressed in a green coat without
collar or cape, after the fashion of those puritanic times, with
the head in a close cropt wig, resembling the bishop's peruke of
the present day. The countenance is youthful and well-looking,
very unlike the expression of foreboding melancholy. I have so far
taken advantage of this criticism, as to bring my ideal portrait
in the present edition, nearer to the complexion at least of the
fair-haired William Dhône.
"How now - how is this?" said a female, who entered the room as he
uttered this reflection. "/You/ here, Master Peveril, in spite of all
the warnings you have had! You here in the possession of folk's house
when they are abroad, and talking to yourself, as I shall warrant!"
"Yes, Mistress Deborah," said Peveril, "I am here once more, as you
see, against every prohibition, and in defiance of all danger. - Where
is Alice?"
"Where you will never see her, Master Julian - you may satisfy yourself
of that," answered Mistress Deborah, for it was that respectable
governante; and sinking down at the same time upon one of the large
leathern chairs, she began to fan herself with her handkerchief, and
complain of the heat in a most ladylike fashion.
In fact, Mistress Debbitch, while her exterior intimated a
considerable change of condition for the better, and her countenance
showed the less favourable effects of the twenty years which had
passed over her head, was in mind and manners very much what she had
been when she battled the opinions of Madam Ellesmere at Martindale
Castle. In a word, she was self-willed, obstinate, and coquettish as
ever, otherwise no ill-disposed person. Her present appearance was
that of a woman of the better rank. From the sobriety of the fashion
of her dress, and the uniformity of its colours, it was plain she
belonged to some sect which condemned superfluous gaiety in attire;
but no rules, not those of a nunnery or of a quaker's society, can
prevent a little coquetry in that particular, where a woman is
desirous of being supposed to retain some claim to personal attention.
All Mistress Deborah's garments were so arranged as might best set off
a good-looking woman, whose countenance indicated ease and good cheer
- who called herself five-and-thirty, and was well entitled, if she
had a mind, to call herself twelve or fifteen years older.
Julian was under the necessity of enduring all her tiresome and
fantastic airs, and awaiting with patience till she had "prinked
herself and pinned herself" - flung her hoods back, and drawn them
forward - snuffed at a little bottle of essences - closed her eyes like
a dying fowl - turned them up like duck in a thunderstorm; when at
length, having exhausted her round of /minauderies/, she condescended
to open the conversation.
"These walks will be the death of me," she said, "and all on your
account, Master Julian Peveril; for if Dame Christian should learn
that you have chosen to make your visits to her niece, I promise you
Mistress Alice would be soon obliged to find other quarters, and so
should I."
"Come now, Mistress Deborah, be good-humoured," said Julian;
"consider, was not all this intimacy of ours of your own making? Did
you not make yourself known to me the very first time I strolled up
this glen with my fishing-rod, and tell me that you were my former
keeper, and that Alice had been my little playfellow? And what could
there be more natural, than that I should come back and see two such
agreeable persons as often as I could?"
"Yes," said Dame Deborah; "but I did not bid you fall in love with us,
though, or propose such a matter as marriage either to Alice or
myself."
"To do you justice, you never did, Deborah," answered the youth; "but
what of that? Such things will come out before one is aware. I am sure
you must have heard such proposals fifty times when you least expected
them."
"Fie, fie, fie, Master Julian Peveril," said the governante; "I would
have you to know that I have always so behaved myself, that the best
of the land would have thought twice of it, and have very well
considered both what he was going to say, and how he was going to say
it, before he came out with such proposals to me."
"True, true, Mistress Deborah," continued Julian; "but all the world
hath not your discretion. Then Alice Bridgenorth is a child - a mere
child; and one always asks a baby to be one's little wife, you know.
Come, I know you will forgive me. Thou wert ever the best-natured,
kindest woman in the world; and you know you have said twenty times we
were made for each other."
"Oh no, Master Julian Peveril; no, no, no!" ejaculated Deborah. "I may
indeed have said your estates were born to be united; and to be sure
it is natural for me, that come of the old stock of the yeomanry of
Peveril of the Peak's estate, to wish that it was all within the ring
fence again; which sure enough it might be, were you to marry Alice
Bridgenorth. But then there is the knight your father, and my lady
your mother; and there is her father, that is half crazy with his
religion; and her aunt that wears eternal black grogram for that
unlucky Colonel Christian; and there is the Countess of Derby, that
would serve us all with the same sauce if we were thinking of anything
that would displease her. And besides all that, you have broke your
word with Mistress Alice, and everything is over between you; and I am
of opinion it is quite right it should be all over. And perhaps it may
be, Master Julian, that I should have thought so a long time ago,
before a child like Alice put it into my head; but I am so good-
natured."
No flatterer like a lover, who wishes to carry his point.
"You are the best-natured, kindest creature in the world, Deborah. -
But you have never seen the ring I bought for you at Paris. Nay, I
will put it on your finger myself; - what! your foster-son, whom you
loved so well, and took such care of?"
He easily succeeded in putting a pretty ring of gold, with a humorous
affectation of gallantry, on the fat finger of Mistress Deborah
Debbitch. Hers was a soul of a kind often to be met with, both among
the lower and higher vulgar, who, without being, on a broad scale,
accessible to bribes or corruption, are nevertheless much attached to
perquisites, and considerably biassed in their line of duty, though
perhaps insensibly, by the love of petty observances, petty presents,
and trivial compliments. Mistress Debbitch turned the ring round, and
round, and round, and at length said, in a whisper, "Well, Master
Julian Peveril, it signifies nothing denying anything to such a young
gentleman as you, for young gentlemen are always so obstinate! and so
I may as well tell you, that Mistress Alice walked back from the Kirk-
Truagh along with me, just now, and entered the house at the same time
with myself."
"Why did you not tell me so before?" said Julian, starting up; "where
- where is she?"
"You had better ask why I tell you so /now/, Master Julian," said Dame
Deborah; "for, I promise you, it is against her express commands; and
I would not have told you, had you not looked so pitiful; - but as for
seeing you, that she will not - and she is in her own bedroom, with a
good oak door shut and bolted upon her - that is one comfort. - And so,
as for any breach of trust on my part - I promise you the little saucy
minx gives it no less name - it is quite impossible."
"Do not say so, Deborah - only go - only try - tell her to hear me - tell
her I have a hundred excuses for disobeying her commands - tell her I
have no doubt to get over all obstacles at Martindale Castle."
"Nay, I tell you it is all in vain," replied the Dame. "When I saw
your cap and rod lying in the hall, I did but say, 'There he is
again,' and she ran up the stairs like a young deer; and I heard key
turned, and bolt shot, ere I could say a single word to stop her - I
marvel you heard her not."
"It was because I am, as I ever was, an owl - a dreaming fool, who let
all those golden minutes pass, which my luckless life holds out to me
so rarely. - Well - tell her I go - go for ever - go where she will hear
no more of me - where no one shall hear more of me!"
"Oh, the Father!" said the dame, "hear how he talks! - What will become
of Sir Geoffrey, and your mother, and of me, and of the Countess, if
you were to go so far as you talk of? And what would become of poor
Alice too? for I will be sworn she likes you better than she says, and
I know she used to sit and look the way that you used to come up the
stream, and now and then ask me if the morning were good for fishing.
And all the while you were on the continent, as they call it, she
scarcely smiled once, unless it was when she got two beautiful long
letters about foreign parts."
"Friendship, Dame Deborah - only friendship - cold and calm remembrance
of one who, by your kind permission, stole in on your solitude now and
then, with news from the living world without - Once, indeed, I
thought - but it is all over - farewell."
So saying, he covered his face with one hand, and extended the other,
in the act of bidding adieu to Dame Debbitch, whose kind heart became
unable to withstand the sight of his affliction.
"Now, do not be in such haste," she said; "I will go up again, and
tell her how it stands with you, and bring her down, if it is in
woman's power to do it."
And so saying, she left the apartment, and ran upstairs.
Julian Peveril, meanwhile, paced the apartment in great agitation,
waiting the success of Deborah's intercession; and she remained long
enough absent to give us time to explain, in a short retrospect, the
circumstances which had led to his present situation.
CHAPTER XII
Ah me! for aught that ever I could read,
Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smooth!
- Midsummer Night's Dream.
The celebrated passage which we have prefixed to this chapter has,
like most observations of the same author, its foundation in real
experience. The period at which love is formed for the first time, and
felt most strongly, is seldom that at which there is much prospect of
its being brought to a happy issue. The state of artificial society
opposes many complicated obstructions to early marriages; and the
chance is very great, that such obstacles prove insurmountable. In
fine, there are few men who do not look back in secret to some period
of their youth, at which a sincere and early affection was repulsed,
or betrayed, or become abortive from opposing circumstances. It is
these little passages of secret history, which leave a tinge of
romance in every bosom, scarce permitting us, even in the most busy or
the most advanced period of life, to listen with total indifference to
a tale of true love.
Julian Peveril had so fixed his affections, as to insure the fullest
share of that opposition which early attachments are so apt to
encounter. Yet nothing so natural as that he should have done so. In
early youth, Dame Debbitch had accidentally met with the son of her
first patroness, and who had himself been her earliest charge, fishing
in the little brook already noticed, which watered the valley in which
she resided with Alice Bridgenorth. The dame's curiosity easily
discovered who he was; and besides the interest which persons in her
condition usually take in the young people who have been under their
charge, she was delighted with the opportunity to talk about former
times - about Martindale Castle, and friends there - about Sir Geoffrey
and his good lady - and, now and then, about Lance Outram the park-
keeper.
The mere pleasure of gratifying her inquiries, would scarce have had
power enough to induce Julian to repeat his visits to the lonely glen;
but Deborah had a companion - a lovely girl - bred in solitude, and in
the quiet and unpretending tastes which solitude encourages - spirited,
also, and inquisitive, and listening, with laughing cheek, and an
eager eye, to every tale which the young angler brought from the town
and castle.
The visits of Julian to the Black Fort were only occasional - so far
Dame Deborah showed common-sense - which was, perhaps, inspired by the
apprehension of losing her place, in case of discovery. She had,
indeed, great confidence in the strong and rooted belief - amounting
almost to superstition - which Major Bridgenorth entertained, that his
daughter's continued health could only be insured by her continuing
under the charge of one who had acquired Lady Peveril's supposed skill
in treating those subject to such ailments. This belief Dame Deborah
had improved to the utmost of her simple cunning, - always speaking in
something of an oracular tone, upon the subject of her charge's
health, and hinting at certain mysterious rules necessary to maintain
it in the present favourable state. She had availed herself of this
artifice, to procure for herself and Alice a separate establishment at
the Black Fort; for it was originally Major Bridgenorth's resolution,
that his daughter and her governante should remain under the same roof
with the sister-in-law of his deceased wife, the widow of the
unfortunate Colonel Christian. But this lady was broken down with
premature age, brought on by sorrow; and, in a short visit which Major
Bridgenorth made to the island, he was easily prevailed on to consider
her house at Kirk-Truagh, as a very cheerless residence for his
daughter. Dame Deborah, who longed for domestic independence, was
careful to increase this impression by alarming her patron's fears on
account of Alice's health. The mansion of Kirk-Truagh stood, she said,
much exposed to the Scottish winds, which could not but be cold, as
they came from a country where, as she was assured, there was ice and
snow at midsummer. In short, she prevailed, and was put into full
possession of the Black Fort, a house which, as well as Kirk-Truagh,
belonged formerly to Christian, and now to his widow.
Still, however, it was enjoined on the governante and her charge, to
visit Kirk-Truagh from time to time, and to consider themselves as
under the management and guardianship of Mistress Christian - a state
of subjection, the sense of which Deborah endeavoured to lessen, by
assuming as much freedom of conduct as she possibly dared, under the
influence, doubtless, of the same feelings of independence, which
induced her, at Martindale Hall, to spurn the advice of Mistress
Ellesmere.
It was this generous disposition to defy control which induced her to
procure for Alice, secretly, some means of education, which the stern
genius of puritanism would have proscribed. She ventured to have her
charge taught music - nay, even dancing; and the picture of the stern
Colonel Christian trembled on the wainscot where it was suspended,
while the sylph-like form of Alice, and the substantial person of Dame
Deborah, executed French /chaussées/ and /borrées/, to the sound of a
small kit, which screamed under the bow of Monsieur De Pigal, half
smuggler, half dancing-master. This abomination reached the ears of
the Colonel's widow, and by her was communicated to Bridgenorth, whose
sudden appearance in the island showed the importance he attached to
the communication. Had she been faithless to her own cause, that had
been the latest hour of Mrs. Deborah's administration. But she
retreated into her stronghold.
"Dancing," she said, "was exercise, regulated and timed by music; and
it stood to reason, that it must be the best of all exercise for a
delicate person, especially as it could be taken within doors, and in
all states of the weather."
Bridgenorth listened, with a clouded and thoughtful brow, when, in
exemplification of her doctrine, Mistress Deborah, who was no
contemptible performer on the viol, began to jangle Sellenger's Round,
and desired Alice to dance an old English measure to the tune. As the
half-bashful, half-smiling girl, about fourteen - for such was her age
- moved gracefully to the music, the father's eye unavoidably followed
the light spring of her step, and marked with joy the rising colour in
her cheek. When the dance was over, he folded her in his arms,
smoothed her somewhat disordered locks with a father's affectionate
hand, smiled, kissed her brow, and took his leave, without one single
word farther interdicting the exercise of dancing. He did not himself
communicate the result of his visit at the Black Fort to Mrs.
Christian, but she was not long of learning it, by the triumph of Dame
Deborah on her next visit.
"It is well," said the stern old lady; "my brother Bridgenorth hath
permitted you to make a Herodias of Alice, and teach her dancing. You
have only now to find her a partner for life - I shall neither meddle
nor make more in their affairs."
In fact, the triumph of Dame Deborah, or rather of Dame Nature, on
this occasion, had more important effects than the former had ventured
to anticipate; for Mrs. Christian, though she received with all
formality the formal visits of the governante and her charge, seemed
thenceforth so pettish with the issue of her remonstrance, upon the
enormity of her niece dancing to a little fiddle, that she appeared to
give up interference in her affairs, and left Dame Debbitch and Alice
to manage both education and housekeeping - in which she had hitherto
greatly concerned herself - much after their own pleasure.
It was in this independent state that they lived, when Julian first
visited their habitation; and he was the rather encouraged to do so by
Dame Deborah, that she believed him to be one of the last persons in
the world with whom Mistress Christian would have desired her niece to
be acquainted - the happy spirit of contradiction superseding, with
Dame Deborah, on this, as on other occasions, all consideration of the
fitness of things. She did not act altogether without precaution
neither. She was aware she had to guard not only against any reviving
interest or curiosity on the part of Mistress Christian, but against
the sudden arrival of Major Bridgenorth, who never failed once in the
year to make his appearance at the Black Fort when least expected, and
to remain there for a few days. Dame Debbitch, therefore, exacted of
Julian, that his visits should be few and far between; that he should
condescend to pass for a relation of her own, in the eyes of two
ignorant Manx girls and a lad, who formed her establishment; and that
he should always appear in his angler's dress made of the simple
/Loughtan/, or buff-coloured wool of the island, which is not
subjected to dyeing. By these cautions, she thought his intimacy at
the Black Fort would be entirely unnoticed, or considered as
immaterial, while, in the meantime, it furnished much amusement to her
charge and herself.
This was accordingly the case during the earlier part of their
intercourse, while Julian was a lad, and Alice a girl two or three
years younger. But as the lad shot up to youth, and the girl to
womanhood, even Dame Deborah Debbitch's judgment saw danger in their
continued intimacy. She took an opportunity to communicate to Julian
who Miss Bridgenorth actually was, and the peculiar circumstances
which placed discord between their fathers. He heard the story of
their quarrel with interest and surprise, for he had only resided
occasionally at Martindale Castle, and the subject of Bridgenorth's
quarrel with his father had never been mentioned in his presence. His
imagination caught fire at the sparks afforded by this singular story;
and, far from complying with the prudent remonstrance of Dame Deborah,
and gradually estranging himself from the Black Fort and its fair
inmate, he frankly declared, he considered his intimacy there, so
casually commenced, as intimating the will of Heaven, that Alice and
he were designed for each other, in spite of every obstacle which
passion or prejudice could raise up betwixt them. They had been
companions in infancy; and a little exertion of memory enabled him to
recall his childish grief for the unexpected and sudden disappearance
of his little companion, whom he was destined again to meet with in
the early bloom of opening beauty, in a country which was foreign to
them both.
Dame Deborah was confounded at the consequences of her communication,
which had thus blown into a flame the passion which she hoped it would
have either prevented or extinguished. She had not the sort of head
which resists the masculine and energetic remonstrances of passionate
attachment, whether addressed to her on her own account, or on behalf
of another. She lamented, and wondered, and ended her feeble
opposition, by weeping, and sympathising, and consenting to allow the
continuance of Julian's visits, provided he should only address
himself to Alice as a friend; to gain the world, she would consent to
nothing more. She was not, however, so simple, but that she also had
her forebodings of the designs of Providence on this youthful couple;
for certainly they could not be more formed to be united than the good
estates of Martindale and Moultrassie.
Then came a long sequence of reflections. Martindale Castle wanted but
some repairs to be almost equal to Chatsworth. The Hall might be
allowed to go to ruin; or, what would be better, when Sir Geoffrey's
time came (for the good knight had seen service, and must be breaking
now), the Hall would be a good dowery-house, to which my lady and
Ellesmere might retreat; while (empress of the still-room, and queen
of the pantry) Mistress Deborah Debbitch should reign housekeeper at
the Castle, and extend, perhaps, the crown-matrimonial to Lance
Outram, provided he was not become too old, too fat, or too fond of
ale.
Such were the soothing visions under the influence of which the dame
connived at an attachment, which lulled also to pleasing dreams,
though of a character so different, her charge and her visitant.
The visits of the young angler became more and more frequent; and the
embarrassed Deborah, though foreseeing all the dangers of discovery,
and the additional risk of an explanation betwixt Alice and Julian,
which must necessarily render their relative situation so much more
delicate, felt completely overborne by the enthusiasm of the young
lover, and was compelled to let matters take their course.
The departure of Julian for the continent interrupted the course of
his intimacy at the Black Fort, and while it relieved the elder of its
inmates from much internal apprehension, spread an air of languor and
dejection over the countenance of the younger, which, at
Bridgenorth's next visit to the Isle of Man, renewed all his terrors
for his daughter's constitutional malady.
Deborah promised faithfully she should look better the next morning,
and she kept her word. She had retained in her possession for some
time a letter which Julian had, by some private conveyance, sent to
her charge, for his youthful friend. Deborah had dreaded the
consequences of delivering it as a billet-doux, but, as in the case of
the dance, she thought there could be no harm in administering it as a
remedy.
It had complete effect; and next day the cheeks of the maiden had a
tinge of the rose, which so much delighted her father, that, as he
mounted his horse, he flung his purse into Deborah's hand, with the
desire she should spare nothing that could make herself and his
daughter happy, and the assurance that she had his full confidence.
This expression of liberality and confidence from a man of Major
Bridgenorth's reserved and cautious disposition, gave full plumage to
Mistress Deborah's hopes; and emboldened her not only to deliver
another letter of Julian's to the young lady, but to encourage more
boldly and freely than formerly the intercourse of the lovers when
Peveril returned from abroad.
At length, in spite of all Julian's precaution, the young Earl became
suspicious of his frequent solitary fishing parties; and he himself,
now better acquainted with the world than formerly, became aware that
his repeated visits and solitary walks with a person so young and
beautiful as Alice, might not only betray prematurely the secret of
his attachment, but be of essential prejudice to her who was its
object.
Under the influence of this conviction, he abstained, for an unusual
period, from visiting the Black Fort. But when he next indulged
himself with spending an hour in the place where he would gladly have
abode for ever, the altered manner of Alice - the tone in which she
seemed to upbraid his neglect, penetrated his heart, and deprived him
of that power of self-command, which he had hitherto exercised in
their interviews. It required but a few energetic words to explain to
Alice at once his feelings, and to make her sensible of the real
nature of her own. She wept plentifully, but her tears were not all of
bitterness. She sat passively still, and without reply, while he
explained to her, with many an interjection, the circumstances which
had placed discord between their families; for hitherto, all that she
had known was, that Master Peveril, belonging to the household of the
great Countess or Lady of Man, must observe some precautions in
visiting a relative of the unhappy Colonel Christian. But, when Julian
concluded his tale with the warmest protestations of eternal love, "My
poor father!" she burst forth, "and was this to be the end of all thy
precautions? - This, that the son of him that disgraced and banished
thee, should hold such language to your daughter?"
"You err, Alice, you err," cried Julian eagerly. "That I hold this
language - that the son of Peveril addresses thus the daughter of your
father - that he thus kneels to you for forgiveness of injuries which
passed when we were both infants, shows the will of Heaven, that in
our affection should be quenched the discord of our parents. What else
could lead those who parted infants on the hills of Derbyshire, to
meet thus in the valleys of Man?"
Alice, however new such a scene, and, above all, her own emotions,
might be, was highly endowed with that exquisite delicacy which is
imprinted in the female heart, to give warning of the slightest
approach to impropriety in a situation like hers.
"Rise, rise, Master Peveril," she said; "do not do yourself and me
this injustice - we have done both wrong - very wrong; but my fault was
done in ignorance. O God! my poor father, who needs comfort so much -
is it for me to add to his misfortunes? Rise!" she added more firmly;
"if you retain this unbecoming posture any longer, I will leave the
room and you shall never see me more."
The commanding tone of Alice overawed the impetuosity of her lover,
who took in silence a seat removed to some distance from hers, and was
again about to speak. "Julian," said she in a milder tone, "you have
spoken enough, and more than enough. Would you had left me in the
pleasing dream in which I could have listened to you for ever! but the
hour of wakening is arrived." Peveril waited the prosecution of her
speech as a criminal while he waits his doom; for he was sufficiently
sensible that an answer, delivered not certainly without emotion, but
with firmness and resolution, was not to be interrupted. "We have done
wrong," she repeated, "very wrong; and if we now separate for ever,
the pain we may feel will be but a just penalty for our error. We
should never have met: meeting, we should part as soon as possible.
Our farther intercourse can but double our pain at parting. Farewell,
Julian; and forget we ever have seen each other!"
"Forget!" said Julian; "never, never. To /you/, it is easy to speak
the word - to think the thought. To /me/, an approach to either can
only be by utter destruction. Why should you doubt that the feud of
our fathers, like so many of which we have heard, might be appeased by
our friendship? You are my only friend. I am the only one whom Heaven
has assigned to you. Why should we separate for the fault of others,
which befell when we were but children?"
"You speak in vain, Julian," said Alice; "I pity you - perhaps I pity
myself - indeed, I should pity myself, perhaps, the most of the two;
for you will go forth to new scenes and new faces, and will soon
forget me; but, I, remaining in this solitude, how shall /I/ forget? -
that, however, is not now the question - I can bear my lot, and it
commands us to part."
"Hear me yet a moment," said Peveril; "this evil is not, cannot be
remediless. I will go to my father, - I will use the intercession of my
mother, to whom he can refuse nothing - I will gain their consent - they
have no other child - and they must consent, or lose him for ever. Say,
Alice, if I come to you with my parents' consent to my suit, will you
again say, with that tone so touching and so sad, yet so incredibly
determined - Julian, we must part?" Alice was silent. "Cruel girl, will
you not even deign to answer me?" said her lover.
"I would refer you to my father," said Alice, blushing and casting her
eyes down; but instantly raising them again, she repeated, in a firmer
and a sadder tone, "Yes, Julian, I would refer you to my father; and
you would find that your pilot, Hope, had deceived you; and that you
had but escaped the quicksands to fall upon the rocks."
"I would that could be tried!" said Julian. "Methinks I could persuade
your father that in ordinary eyes our alliance is not undesirable. My
family have fortune, rank, long descent - all that fathers look for
when they bestow a daughter's hand."
"All this would avail you nothing," said Alice. "The spirit of my
father is bent upon the things of another world; and if he listened to
hear you out, it would be but to tell you that he spurned your
offers."
"You know not - you know not, Alice," said Julian. "Fire can soften
iron - thy father's heart cannot be so hard, or his prejudices so
strong, but I shall find some means to melt him. Forbid me not - Oh,
forbid me not at least the experiment!"
"I can but advise," said Alice; "I can forbid you nothing; for, to
forbid, implies power to command obedience. But if you will be wise,
and listen to me - Here, and on this spot, we part for ever!"
"Not so, by Heaven!" said Julian, whose bold and sanguine temper
scarce saw difficulty in attaining aught which he desired. "We now
part, indeed, but it is that I may return armed with my parents'
consent. They desire that I should marry - in their last letters they
pressed it more openly - they shall have their desire; and such a bride
as I will present to them has not graced their house since the
Conqueror gave it origin. Farewell, Alice! Farewell, for a brief
space!"
She replied, "Farewell, Julian! Farewell for ever!"
Julian, within a week of this interview, was at Martindale Castle,
with the view of communicating his purpose. But the task which seems
easy at a distance, proves as difficult, upon a nearer approach, as
the fording of a river, which from afar appeared only a brook. There
lacked not opportunities of entering upon the subject; for in the
first ride which he took with his father, the Knight resumed the
subject of his son's marriage, and liberally left the lady to his
choice; but under the strict proviso, that she was of a loyal and an
honourable family; - if she had fortune, it was good and well, or
rather, it was better than well; but if she was poor, why, "there is
still some picking," said Sir Geoffrey, "on the bones of the old
estate; and Dame Margaret and I will be content with the less, that
you young folks may have your share of it. I am turned frugal already,
Julian. You see what a north-country shambling bit of a Galloway nag I
ride upon - a different beast, I wot, from my own old Black Hastings,
who had but one fault, and that was his wish to turn down Moultrassie
avenue."
"Was that so great a fault?" said Julian, affecting indifference,
while his heart was trembling, as it seemed to him, almost in his very
throat.
"It used to remind me of that base, dishonourable Presbyterian fellow,
Bridgenorth," said Sir Geoffrey; "and I would as lief think of a toad:
- they say he has turned Independent, to accomplish the full degree of
rascality. - I tell you, Gill, I turned off the cow-boy, for gathering
nuts in his woods - I would hang a dog that would so much as kill a
hare there. - But what is the matter with you? You look pale."
Julian made some indifferent answer, but too well understood, from the
language and tone which his father used, that his prejudices against
Alice's father were both deep and envenomed, as those of country
gentlemen often become, who, having little to do or think of, are but
too apt to spend their time in nursing and cherishing petty causes of
wrath against their next neighbours.
In the course of the same day, he mentioned the Bridgenorth to his
mother, as if in a casual manner. But the Lady Peveril instantly
conjured him never to mention the name, especially in his father's
presence.
"Was that Major Bridgenorth, of whom I have heard the name mentioned,"
said Julian, "so very bad a neighbour?"
"I do not say so," said Lady Peveril; "nay, we were more than once
obliged to him, in the former unhappy times; but your father and he
took some passages so ill at each other's hands, that the least
allusion to him disturbs Sir Geoffrey's temper, in a manner quite
unusual, and which, now that his health is somewhat impaired, is
sometimes alarming to me. For Heaven's sake, then, my dear Julian,
avoid upon all occasions the slightest allusion to Moultrassie, or any
of its inhabitants."
This warning was so seriously given, that Julian himself saw that
mentioning his secret purpose would be the sure way to render it
abortive, and therefore he returned disconsolate to the Isle.
Peveril had the boldness, however, to make the best he could of what
had happened, by requesting an interview with Alice, in order to
inform her what had passed betwixt his parents and him on her account.
It was with great difficulty that this boon was obtained; and Alice
Bridgenorth showed no slight degree of displeasure, when she
discovered, after much circumlocution, and many efforts to give an air
of importance to what he had to communicate, that all amounted but to
this, that Lady Peveril continued to retain a favourable opinion of
her father, Major Bridgenorth, which Julian would fain have
represented as an omen of their future more perfect reconciliation.
"I did not think you would thus have trifled with me, Master Peveril,"
said Alice, assuming an air of dignity; "but I will take care to avoid
such intrusion in future - I request you will not again visit the Black
Fort; and I entreat of you, good Mistress Debbitch, that you will no
longer either encourage or permit this gentleman's visits, as the
result of such persecution will be to compel me to appeal to my aunt
and father for another place of residence, and perhaps also for
another and more prudent companion."
This last hint struck Mistress Deborah with so much terror, that she
joined her ward in requiring and demanding Julian's instant absence,
and he was obliged to comply with their request. But the courage of a
youthful lover is not easily subdued; and Julian, after having gone
through the usual round of trying to forget his ungrateful mistress,
and entertaining his passion with augmented violence, ended by the
visit to the Black Fort, the beginning of which we narrated in the
last chapter.
We then left him anxious for, yet almost fearful of, an interview with
Alice, which he prevailed upon Deborah to solicit; and such was the
tumult of his mind, that, while he traversed the parlour, it seemed to
him that the dark melancholy eyes of the slaughtered Christian's
portrait followed him wherever he went, with the fixed, chill, and
ominous glance, which announced to the enemy of his race mishap and
misfortune.
The door of the apartment opened at length, and these visions were
dissipated.
CHAPTER XIII
Parents have flinty hearts! No tears can move them.
- OTWAY.
When Alice Bridgenorth at length entered the parlour where her anxious
lover had so long expected her, it was with a slow step, and a
composed manner. Her dress was arranged with an accurate attention to