Bungay Castle Part 9

"I see and hear nothing, (said the before mentioned old servant,) but what I wish neither to see not hear. You are all a parcel of superst.i.tious ignorant fools, and, if my master should once find out what cowards you all are, he would soon compel you to give place to a bolder set. Come, come, let us go to bed, and leave the ghosts to do the same."

The old man led the way with a candle in his hand; the rest followed, clinging to each other like a flight of bees, not one of them daring to be left behind; and the groom, who had really seen a light from the tower inhabited by the prisoner, was to convinced he had seen a ghost, that neither father Anselm, nor all the fathers in Christendom, could have persuaded him to think the contrary; and so much had it alarmed him, that his terrified imagination had mistake his own shadow for the ghost following close at his heels, and it was with some difficulty he could be prevailed upon by his fellow-servants to go to bed, lest he should see it again.

The next morning, when Audrey went to call her young lady, Roseline requested she would forgive her for having spoken so angrily the preceding evening, and with the most winning softness begged to be informed what she meant by coupling her name with that of the Baron.

Audrey, who had never before seen Roseline so much out of humour, and had neither forgotten nor forgiven the affront of being prevented from disclosing a secret which she had for several days found very troublesome to keep, replied, "I couples no one; matches are made in heaven, or in the church, or at wakes; but I think, for my part, some are made in a much worser place, and so she will think too who is tacked in hollybands with the old Baron." "But who do you think, my good Audrey, will ever be so unfortunate?" "Why will you ax me miss? I must not speak my senterments: we poor servants never knows nothing; but this I do know for certain, if ever I marries, it shall be to a young man, a pretty-looking man,--good humoured ones I loves,--something like Mr. Camelfor;--not to an old crab, sowrer than vinegar, who would not suffer me to see with my own dear eyes, nor believe with my own natural senses,--a crotched paced toad, who would shut me up for life; mayhap, if I liked a better or a younger man than himself,--an accident I think that might happen."

"But how should the Baron find out what you thought?"

"By going to a negromancer. Such old cattle are to the full as cunning as their black master, and might strike one dumb."

"That, to be sure, (replied Roseline,) would be a heavy misfortune to those who were fond of hearing the sound of their own voice in preference to that of any other person."

"For my part, (said Audrey,) voice or no voice, I verily thinks something mendusly bad after all will happen to this crazy castle, for Thomas last night saw lights in the South tower, and the ghost of a young woman followed him in such a hurry, that, if he had not ran as fast as a hound, it would have stamped upon his heels. It went away like a sky-rocket, and the smell of sulphur almost _sifficated_ the poor fellow, who will certainly have a _parletic_ stroke."

Lady de Morney's bell now ringing, Audrey left the room, without having said half so much as she intended to do about the ghost, or unburthening her mind of a secret she heartily wished to reveal.

CHAP. IX.

When the family met at breakfast, the Baron appeared unusually affable, and Sir Philip in high spirits. A walk was proposed to take a view of the town, nunnery, and environs of the cattle. Roseline and her sisters were requested to be of the party, and they were very soon joined by De Clavering, De Willows, and Hugh Camelford. This little promenade was so pleasant, that it seemed to harmonize every mind, and to produce a redoubled and grateful relish for the early beauties of the infant spring.

"Already now the snow-drop dar'd appear, The first pale blossom of th'unripened year, As Flora's breath, by some transforming pow'r, Had chang'd an icicle into a flow'r.

Its name and hue the scentless plant retains, And Winter lingers in its icy veins."

The Baron, who had politely offered the a.s.sistance of his arm to Roseline, (which her father bade her accept,) whispered some very fine things in her ear in praise of her shape, beauty, and understanding,--told her it was a reproach on the taste and judgment of his s.e.x that so charming a female had not put on hymeneal fetters;--it was a positive proof of the blindness of the G.o.d of love.

"Surely you forget, my lord, (replied the blus.h.i.+ng Roseline,) that I have scarcely left off my leading strings, and am but just liberated from the confinement of the school."

Age, he told her, ought not to be reckoned by the number of years, but by accomplishments and good qualities.

"That kind of calculation (said De Clavering) would make your age, Miss de Morney, more upon a par with the Baron's."

"More upon a par, you mean, (added De Willows,) with our first parent Adam."

"What Atam? (cried Hugh Camelford, skipping to the side of Roseline, and eagerly handing her over a little run of water they were obliged to cross,)--what were you saying about our crate crandfather Atam?

I have often wished to see the old poy, and trink a pottle of pure water with him from the pond in the carten of Eden."

"Why so, sir?" said the stately and mortified Baron, who felt and seemed to shrink from the contrast between the active and lively gallantry of the giddy Cambrian and the slow and cautious efforts of his own.

"Why?--why? pecause he must be a prave fellow to venture matrimony with the first woman he saw."

"How the devil should he do otherwise than take the first, when there was no other to choose!" said De Clavering.

"The tevil however was even with him after all, (replied the unthinking Camelford;)--the old poy had petter have peen quiet."

"I do not see that, (said De Willows;) and, as the mischief was productive of some good, surely we have no right to criticise with severity that conduct which was forgiven by Being so much more perfect than the creature he had created."

"That is as much as to say, (rejoined Camelford,) that, when we choose to play the fool, cofet our neighbor's wife or taughter, we have only to plame our own imperfect nature, repent, and be forcifen."

"That would be to trust our hopes of forgiveness upon a very sandy foundation indeed, (said Sir Philip,) as determined guilt, or a continuance in error, can have but little chance of immortal happiness."

"And for our mortal share of that same commodity, (replied the lively Hugh,) we must not trust to matrimony, I fear, as I never heard married people found their happiness puilt upon a rock."

This speech produced a general laugh, but Sir Philip, who was by no means pleased with the subject, said with a smile to the Baron, "These young men think they know more than their forefathers."

"By which means, (replied he,) they will most a.s.suredly entail upon themselves the mortification of knowing less."

The conversation, during the rest of the walk, was confined to such objects as occasionally presented themselves to observation. The inhabitants of the town came to their doors to catch a look at the party from the castle. To as many as were known by the governor he spoke familiarly, as did the other gentlemen, and they concluded the Baron must be some very great man, perhaps the king himself in disguise, because he did not once condescend to address them.

Roseline chatted with some young girls who came out to make their best curtesies, while the Baron thought all these attentions paid to such plebeian souls wonderfully troublesome. At dinner he scarcely spoke five words, and De Willows was do disgusted with his forbidding haughtiness, that the next day he presented to De Clavering the following satire on pride, saying it was a tribute justly due to the Baron for his supreme excellency in the display of that detestable feature in his character.

h.e.l.l's first born exhalation sure is pride!

Who, with its sister, envy, would divide The various blessings to poor mortals given.

By the kind bounty of indulgent heaven.

What at the last have kings to make them proud!

A gilded coffin and a satin shroud.

The lordly worm on these will quickly prey; For worms, like kings, in turn will have their day.

What then is man who boasts his form and make?

A reptile's meal,--a worm's high-flavour'd steak, The epicure, who caters like a slave, Is but a pamper'd morsel for the grave.

Envy's a canker of such subtle power, It steals all pleasure from the gayest hour.

It is the deadly nightshade of the mind; With secret poison all its arts refin'd; And, when attended by it vile relation, Would spread a plague destructive to a nation.

Then send these hags back to their native h.e.l.l, With fiends and evil spirits formed to dwell.

No more on worth let man look down with scorn, And frown on those not quite so highly born; Nor, as the coaches rattle from his door, Boast, like proud Haman, of not being poor!

Earth's doom'd to earth, all folly there must end,-- Then read, and own the satirist a friend.

Madeline had been invited, and obtained permission of the abbess to spend the following day at the castle. This gave additional vivacity to the lively spirits of Edwin, who, with his sister, spent as much time with the prisoner as they could steal, without exciting curiosity of suspicion. Roseline gave them with some humour the ghost-story, as imparted to her by Audrey, and cautioned Albert against having any lights seen from the windows, lest it should be productive of such inquiries as might lead to a discovery of the rooms being inhabited; but, notwithstanding all her attempts to fly from herself, and conceal from the observing eye of love her own internal conflicts, she was almost tempted to throw aside the mask, and at once confess all her apprehensions.

How were these apprehensions heightened, when, in the afternoon, her father told her in a whisper he wished to see her in his study before the family a.s.sembled at breakfast, having some intelligence of the most agreeable nature to impart, which he hoped and believed would make her one of the happiest, as it could not fail to render her one of the most envied of her s.e.x.

Roseline trembled, turned pale, and to the earliest opportunity of withdrawing, not daring to trust Edwin with her fears, or risk feeing the prisoner for some hours, lest her agitation should betray suspicions of she knew not what, but in which her terrified imagination confirmed all the hints her maid had given her.--Marry the Baron!--it was a thought so unnatural, so repugnant to every wish, every feeling of her heart,--so inimical to the ideas she had formed of happiness, that it was not to be endured.--She wept, wrung her hands, recollected herself, and again sunk into despondency; but at all events resolved to acquire resolution to go through the interview with her father, and give him such answers as should convince him an union with his friend (if such was the painful subject he had to communicate) would make her the veriest wretch on earth. Her heart was no longer in her own possession, but that she must not dare to avow; all therefore that she could determine was, to refuse the Baron, and to love the prisoner, and him only, to the end of her life.

These important points settled for the present, gave to her perturbed spirits momentary relief, and enabled her to join the family without creating any suspicion that they were unusually depressed; when, however, she followed her brother into the prisoner's room, it was with the utmost difficulty she maintained any command over her feelings; but, unwilling to alarm of distress her unfortunate lover, till necessity compelled her to acquaint him with her sorrows, the only difference her painful struggles produced was an addition of gentle tenderness to her manner; and, though she had often thought her affection could admit of no increase, yet, at this moment, he was, if possible, still move beloved, still more endeared by the ten thousand uncommon ties which had so wonderfully tended to unite hearts that appeared to be under the directing will of Providence. The next morning, previously to seeing her father, Roseline once more ventured to question Audrey, and so earnestly begged she would explain all she meant by the hints she had given respecting the Baron, that poor Audrey, softened almost to tears by seeing her young lady really distressed, no longer remembered her former petulance, but readily complied with her request, though, in fact, all she knew amounted to little more than she had already told;--namely, that the Baron came to look for a wife to carry home, and shut up in his old castle;--that the Baron's servant had informed her he was in love with her young lady;--that Sir Philip liked him for a son-in-law, and they were soon to be married:--"But, Christ Jesus, miss! he is such an infamy man, he would no more mind ordering one of his va.s.sals to be thrown into a fiery furnace than my master would killing a pig; and Pedro says, he ought to have been put into the spettacle court fifty and fifty times, for his entregens and fornications; for, before his first wife died--"

"What then? (exclaimed Roseline,) has the Baron been married more than once?"

"Bless your heart, miss, he has killed two wives already, and the Lord in his mercy shorten his days, that a third my never fall into the clutches of such a manufactor!--Miss, I would not fortify my word even to gain a gentleman for a husband; and, as I have a Christian soul, which I hope father Anselm will keep out of purgatory, I have told the truth, and only the truth; you must demonstrate with your father, but don't go for to get me turned out of my place for wis.h.i.+ng to preserve you from being led to the haltar by such an old imperial task-master."

Roseline, too much alarmed to be as usual amused with the singular oratory of her simple but well-meaning attendant, thanked her for her good wishes, and promised never to mention the information she had communicated.

"Well, then, bless your sweet face! I'll be crucified but I'll municate to you all I can pick up. Pedro is marvelly keen and clever, yet he appears as innocent as the babe unborn, and for all he gets pretty gleanings and pickings out of his old master, he hates him as heartily as I hates fast-days and confessions; for you see, miss, one does not like to tell tales of oneself, and, in my opinion, some of monks and father confessors don't find in their hearts any ejection to us pretty girls."