CHAPTER XXIX.
It was the copy of our conference. In bed she slept not, for my urging it; At board she fed not, for my urging it; Alone, it was the subject of my theme; In company I often glanced at it.
Comedy of Errors.
THE next morning saw Bucklaw and his faithful Achates, Craigengelt, atRavenswood Castle. They were most courteously received by the knightand his lady, as well, as by their son and heir, Colonel Ashton. Aftera good deal of stammering and blushing--for Bucklaw, notwithstanding hisaudacity in other matters, had all the sheepish bashfulness common tothose who have lived little in respectable society--he contrived atlength to explain his wish to be admitted to a conference with MissAshton upon the subject of their approaching union. Sir William andhis son looked at Lady Ashton, who replied with the greatest composure,"That Lucy would wait upon Mr. Hayston directly. I hope," she added witha smile, "that as Lucy is very young, and has been lately trepanned intoan engagement of which she is now heartily ashamed, our dear Bucklawwill excuse her wish that I should be present at their interview?"
"In truth, my dear lady," said Bucklaw, "it is the very thing thatI would have desired on my own account; for I have been so littleaccustomed to what is called gallantry, that I shall certainly fall intosome cursed mistake unless I have the advantage of your ladyship as aninterpreter."
It was thus that Bucklaw, in the perturbation of his embarrassment uponthis critical occasion, forgot the just apprehensions he had entertainedof Lady Ashton's overbearing ascendency over her daughter's mind, andlost an opportunity of ascertaining, by his own investigation, the realstate of Lucy's feelings.
The other gentlemen left the room, and in a short time Lady Ashton,followed by her daughter, entered the apartment. She appeared, as he hadseen her on former occasions, rather composed than agitated; but a nicerjudge than he could scarce have determined whether her calmness was thatof despair or of indifference. Bucklaw was too much agitated by his ownfeelings minutely to scrutinise those of the lady. He stammered out anunconnected address, confounding together the two or three topics towhich it related, and stopt short before he brought it to any regularconclusion. Miss Ashton listened, or looked as if she listened, butreturned not a single word in answer, continuing to fix her eyes ona small piece of embroidery on which, as if by instinct or habit, herfingers were busily employed. Lady Ashton sat at some distance, almostscreened from notice by the deep embrasure of the window in which shehad placed her chair. From this she whispered, in a tone of voicewhich, though soft and sweet, had something in it of admonition, if notcommand: "Lucy, my dear, remember--have you heard what Bucklaw has beensaying?"
The idea of her mother's presence seemed to have slipped from theunhappy girl's recollection. She started, dropped her needle, andrepeated hastily, and almost in the same breath, the contradictoryanswers: "Yes, madam--no, my lady--I beg pardon, I did not hear."
"You need not blush, my love, and still less need you look so pale andfrightened," said Lady Ashton, coming forward; "we know that maiden'sears must be slow in receiving a gentleman's language; but you mustremember Mr. Hayston speaks on a subject on which you have long sinceagreed to give him a favourable hearing. You know how much your fatherand I have our hearts set upon an event so extremely desirable."
In Lady Ashton's voice, a tone of impressive, and even stern, innuendowas sedulously and skilfully concealed under an appearance of the mostaffectionate maternal tenderness. The manner was for Bucklaw, who waseasily enough imposed upon the matter of the exhortation was for theterrified Lucy, who well knew how to interpret her mother's hints,however skilfully their real purport might be veiled from generalobservation.
Miss Ashton sat upright in her chair, cast round her a glance in whichfear was mingled with a still wilder expression, but remained perfectlysilent. Bucklaw, who had in the mean time paced the room to and fro,until he had recovered his composure, now stopped within two or threeyards of her chair, and broke out as follows: "I believe I have been ad--d fool, Miss Ashton I have tried to speak to you as people tell meyoung ladies like to be talked to, and I don't think you comprehendwhat I have been saying; and no wonder, for d--n me if I understand itmyself! But, however, once for all, and in broad Scotch, your father andmother like what is proposed, and if you can take a plain young fellowfor your husband, who will never cross you in anything you have a mindto, I will place you at the head of the best establishment in the threeLothians; you shall have Lady Girnington's lodging in the Canongate ofEdinburgh, go where you please, do what you please, and see what youplease--and that's fair. Only I must have a corner at the board-end fora worthless old playfellow of mine, whose company I would rather wantthan have, if it were not that the d--d fellow has persuaded me that Ican't do without him; and so I hope you won't except against Craigie,although it might be easy to find much better company."
"Now, out upon you, Bucklaw," said Lady Ashton, again interposing;"how can you think Lucy can have any objection to that blunt, honest,good-natured creature, Captain Craigengelt?"
"Why, madam," replied Bucklaw, "as to Craigie's sincerity, honesty, andgood-nature, they are, I believe, pretty much upon a par; but that'sneither here nor there--the fellow knows my ways, and has got useful tome, and I cannot well do without him, as I said before. But all this isnothing to the purpose; for since I have mustered up courage to make aplain proposal, I would fain hear Miss Ashton, from her own lips, giveme a plain answer."
"My dear Bucklaw," said Lady Ashton, "let me spare Lucy's bashfulness.I tell you, in her presence, that she has already consented to be guidedby her father and me in this matter. Lucy, my love," she added, withthat singular combination of suavity of tone and pointed energy which wehave already noticed--"Lucy, my dearest love! speak for yourself, is itnot as I say?"
Her victim answered in a tremulous and hollow voice: "I HAVE promised toobey you--but upon one condition."
"She means," said Lady Ashton, turning to Bucklaw, "she expects ananswer to the demand which she has made upon the man at Vienna, orRatisbon, or Paris--or where is he?--for restitution of the engagementin which he had the art to involve her. You will not, I am sure, my dearfriend, think it is wrong that she should feel much delicacy upon thishead; indeed, it concerns us all."
"Perfectly right--quite fair," said Bucklaw, half humming, half speakingthe end of the old song--
"It is best to be off wi' the old love Before you be on wi' the new.
But I thought," said he, pausing, "you might have had an answer sixtimes told from Ravenswood. D--n me, if I have not a mind to go fetchone myself, if Miss Ashton will honour me with the commission."
"By no means," said Lady Ashton "we have had the utmost difficulty ofpreventing Douglas, for whom it would be more proper, from taking sorash a step; and do you think we could permit you, my good friend,almost equally dear to us, to go to a desperate man upon an errand sodesperate? In fact, all the friends of the family are of opinion, and mydear Lucy herself ought so to think, that, as this unworthy person hasreturned no answer to her letter, silence must on this, as in othercases, be held to give consent, and a contract must be supposed to begiven up, when the party waives insisting upon it. Sir William, whoshould know best, is clear upon this subject; and therefore, my dearLucy----"
"Madam," said Lucy, with unwonted energy, "urge me no farther; if thisunhappy engagement be restored, I have already said you shall disposeof me as you will; till then I should commit a heavy sin in the sightof God and man in doing what you require." "But, my love, if this manremains obstinately silent----"
"He will NOT be silent," answered Lucy; "it is six weeks since I senthim a double of my former letter by a sure hand."
"You have not--you could not--you durst not," said Lady Ashton, withviolence inconsistent with the tone she had intended to assume; butinstantly correcting herself, "My dearest Lucy," said she, in hersweetest tone of expostulation, "how could you think of such a thing?"
"No matter," said Bucklaw; "I resp
ect Miss Ashton for her sentiments,and I only wish I had been her messenger myself."
"And pray how long, Miss Ashton," said her mother, ironically, "arewe to wait the return of your Pacolet--your fairy messenger--since ourhumble couriers of flesh and blood could not be trusted in this matter?"
"I have numbered weeks, days, hours, and minutes," said Miss Ashton"within another week I shall have an answer, unless he is dead. Tillthat time, sir," she said, addressing Bucklaw, "let me be thus farbeholden to you, that you will beg my mother to forbear me upon thissubject."
"I will make it my particular entreaty to Lady Ashton," said Bucklaw."By my honour, madam, I respect your feelings; and, although theprosecution of this affair be rendered dearer to me than ever, yet, asI am a gentleman, I would renounce it, were it so urged as to give you amoment's pain."
"Mr. Hayston, I think, cannot comprehend that," said Lady Ashton,looking pale with anger, "when the daughter's happiness lies in thebosom of the mother. Let me ask you, Miss Ashton, in what terms yourlast letter was couched?"
"Exactly in the same, madam," answered Lucy, "which you dictated on aformer occasion."
"When eight days have elapsed, then," said her mother, resuming her toneof tenderness, "we shall hope, my dearest love, that you will end thissuspense."
"Miss Ashton must not be hurried, madam," said Bucklaw, whose bluntnessof feeling did not by any means arise from want of good-nature;"messengers may be stopped or delayed. I have known a day's journeybroke by the casting of a foreshoe. Stay, let me see my calendar: thetwentieth day from this is St. Jude's, and the day before I must be atCaverton Edge, to see the match between the Laird of Kittlegirth's blackmare and Johnston the meal-monger's four-year-old-colt; but I can rideall night, or Craigie can bring me word how the match goes; and I hope,in the mean time, as I shall not myself distress Miss Ashton with anyfurther importunity, that your ladyship yourself, and Sir William, andColonel Douglas will have the goodness to allow her uninterrupted timefor making up her mind."
"Sir," said Miss Ashton, "you are generous."
"As for that, madam," answered Bucklaw, "I only pretend to be a plain,good-humoured young fellow, as I said before, who will willingly make youhappy if you will permit him, and show him how to do so." Having saidthis, he saluted her with more emotion than was consistent withhis usual train of feeling, and took his leave; Lady Ashton, as sheaccompanied him out of the apartment, assuring him that her daughter didfull justice to the sincerity of his attachment, and requesting him tosee Sir William before his departure, "since," as she said, with a keenglance reverting towards Lucy, "against St. Jude's day, we must all beready to SIGN AND SEAL."
"To sign and seal!" echoed Lucy, in a muttering tone, as the door of theapartment closed--"to sign and seal--to do and die!" and, clasping herextenuated hands together, she sunk back on the easy-chair she occupied,in a state resembling stupor.
From this she was shortly after awakened by the boisterous entry of herbrother Henry, who clamorously reminded her of a promise to give himtwo yards of carnation ribbon to make knots to his new garters. With themost patient composure Lucy arose, and opening a little ivory cabinet,sought out the ribbon the lad waned, measured it accurately, cut it offinto proper lengths, and knotted it into the fashion his boyish whimrequired.
"Dinna shut the cabinet yet," said Henry, "for I must have some of yoursilver wire to fasten the bells to my hawk's jesses,--and yet the newfalcon's not worth them neither; for do you know, after all the plaguewe had to get her from an eyrie, all the way at Posso, in Mannor Water,she's going to prove, after all, nothing better than a rifler: she justwets her singles in the blood of the partridge, and then breaks away,and lets her fly; and what good can the poor bird do after that, youknow, except pine and die in the first heather-cow or whin-bush she cancrawl into?"
"Right, Henry--right--very right," said Luch, mournfully, holding theboy fast by the hand, after she had given him the wire he wanted; "butthere are more riflers in the world than your falcon, and more woundedbirds that seek but to die in quiet, that can find neither brake norwhin-bush to hide their head in."
"Ah! that's some speech out of your romances," said the boy; "and Sholtosays they have turned your head. But I hear Norman whistling to thehawk; I must go fasten on the jesses."
And he scampered away with the thoughtless gaiety of boyhood, leavinghis sister to the bitterness of her own reflections.
"It is decreed," she said, "that every living creature, even those whoowe me most kindness, are to shun me, and leave me to those by whom I ambeset. It is just it should be thus. Alone and uncounselled, I involvedmyself in these perils; alone and uncounselled, I must extricate myselfor die."