CHAPTER XXXII.
How fair these names, how much unlike they look To all the blurr'd subscriptions in my book! The bridegroom's letters stand in row above, Tapering, yet straight, like pine-trees in his grove; While free and fine the bride's appear below, As light and slender as her jessamines grow.
CRABBE.
ST. JUDE's day came, the term assigned by Lucy herself as the furthestdate of expectation, and, as we have already said, there were neitherletters from nor news of Ravenswood. But there were news of Bucklaw, andof his trusty associate Craigengelt, who arrived early in the morningfor the completion of the proposed espousals, and for signing thenecessary deeds.
These had been carefully prepared under the revisal of Sir WilliamAshton himself, it having been resolved, on account of the state of MissAshton's health, as it was said, that none save the parties immediatelyinterested should be present when the parchments were subscribed. Itwas further determined that the marriage should be solemnised upon thefourth day after signing the articles, a measure adopted by Lady Ashton,in order that Lucy might have as little time as possible to recede orrelapse into intractability. There was no appearance, however, ofher doing either. She heard the proposed arrangement with the calmindifference of despair, or rather with an apathy arising from theoppressed and stupified state of her feelings. To an eye so unobservingas that of Bucklaw, her demeanour had little more of reluctance thanmight suit the character of a bashful young lady, who, however, he couldnot disguise from himself, was complying with the choice of her friendsrather than exercising any personal predilection in his favour.
When the morning compliment of the bridegroom had been paid, Miss Ashtonwas left for some time to herself; her mother remarking, that the deedsmust be signed before the hour of noon, in order that the marriage mightbe happy. Lucy suffered herself to be attired for the occasion as thetaste of her attendants suggested, and was of course splendidly arrayed.Her dress was composed of white satin and Brussels lace, and herhair arranged with a profusion of jewels, whose lustre made a strangecontrast to the deadly paleness of her complexion, and to the troublewhich dwelt in her unsettled eye.
Her toilette was hardly finished ere Henry appeared, to conduct thepassive bride to the state apartment, where all was prepared for signingthe contract. "Do you know, sister," he said, "I am glad you are tohave Bucklaw after all, instead of Ravenswood, who looked like a Spanishgrandee come to cut our throats and trample our bodies under foot.And I am glad the broad seas are between us this day, for I shall neverforget how frightened I was when I took him for the picture of old SirMalise walked out of the canvas. Tell me true, are you not glad to befairly shot of him?"
"Ask me no questions, dear Henry," said his unfortunate sister; "thereis little more can happen to make me either glad or sorry in thisworld."
"And that's what all young brides say," said Henry; "and so do not becast down, Lucy, for you'll tell another tale a twelvemonth hence; and Iam to be bride's-man, and ride before you to the kirk; and all our kith,kin, and allies, and all Bucklaw's, are to be mounted and in order; andI am to have a scarlet laced coat, and a feathered hat, and a sword-belt,double bordered with gold, and point d'Espagne, and a dagger instead ofa sword; and I should like a sword much better, but my father won'thear of it. All my things, and a hundred besides, are to come out fromEdinburgh to-night with old Gilbert and the sumpter mules; and I willbring them and show them to you the instant they come."
The boy's chatter was here interrupted by the arrival of Lady Ashton,somewhat alarmed at her daughter's stay. With one of her sweetestsmiles, she took Lucy's arm under her own.
There were only present, Sir William Ashton and Colonel Douglas Ashton,the last in full regimentals; Bucklaw, in bridegroom trim; Craigengelt,freshly equipt from top to toe by the bounty of his patron, andbedizened with as much lace as might have become the dress of the CopperCaptain; together with the Rev. Mr. Bide-the-Bent; the presence ofa minister being, in strict Presbyterian families, an indispensablerequisite upon all occasions of unusual solemnity.
Wines and refreshments were placed on a table, on which the writingswere displayed, ready for signature.
But before proceeding either to business or refreshment, Mr.Bide-the-Bent, at a signal from Sir William Ashton, invited the companyto join him in a short extemporary prayer, in which he implored ablessing upon the contract now to be solemnised between the honourableparties then present. With the simplicity of his times and profession,which permitted strong personal allusions, he petitioned that thewounded mind of one of these noble parties might be healed, in rewardof her compliance with the advice of her right honourable parents; andthat, as she had proved herself a child after God's commandment, byhonouring her father and mother, she and hers might enjoy the promisedblessing--length of days in the land here, and a happy portion hereafterin a better country. He prayed farther, that the bridegroom mightbe weaned from those follies which seduced youth from the path ofknowledge; that he might cease to take delight in vain and unprofitablecompany, scoffers, rioters, and those who sit late at the wine (hereBucklaw winked at Craigengelt), and cease from the society that causethto err. A suitable supplication in behalf of Sir William and Lady Ashtonand their family concluded this religious address, which thus embracedevery individual present excepting Craigengelt, whom the worthy divineprobably considered as past all hopes of grace.
The business of the day now went forward: Sir William Ashton signedthe contract with legal solemnity and precision his son, with militarynonchalance; and Bucklaw, having subscribed as rapidly as Craigengeltcould manage to turn the leaves, concluded by wiping his pen on thatworthy's new laced cravat. It was now Miss Ashton's turn to sign thewritings, and she was guided by her watchful mother to the table forthat purpose. At her first attempt, she began to write with a dry pen,and when the circumstance was pointed out, seemed unable, after severalattempts, to dip it in the massive silver ink-standish, which stood fullbefore her. Lady Ashton's vigilance hastened to supply the deficiency. Ihave myself seen the fatal deed, and in the distinct characters in whichthe name of Lucy Ashton is traced on each page there is only a veryslight tremulous irregularity, indicative of her state of mind at thetime of the subscription. But the last signature is incomplete, defaced,and blotted; for, while her hand was employed in tracing it, the hastytramp of a horse was heard at the gate, succeeded by a step in theouter gallery, and a voice which, in a commanding tone, bore down theopposition of the menials. The pen dropped from Lucy's fingers, as sheexclaimed with a faint shriek: "He is come--he is come!"