CHAPTER VI.
AND now let the reader, passing over some short period of time, beintroduced to our happy circle. Adrian, Idris and I, were established inWindsor Castle; Lord Raymond and my sister, inhabited a house which theformer had built on the borders of the Great Park, near Perdita's cottage,as was still named the low-roofed abode, where we two, poor even in hope,had each received the assurance of our felicity. We had our separateoccupations and our common amusements. Sometimes we passed whole days underthe leafy covert of the forest with our books and music. This occurredduring those rare days in this country, when the sun mounts his etherialthrone in unclouded majesty, and the windless atmosphere is as a bath ofpellucid and grateful water, wrapping the senses in tranquillity. When theclouds veiled the sky, and the wind scattered them there and here, rendingtheir woof, and strewing its fragments through the aerial plains--then werode out, and sought new spots of beauty and repose. When the frequentrains shut us within doors, evening recreation followed morning study,ushered in by music and song. Idris had a natural musical talent; and hervoice, which had been carefully cultivated, was full and sweet. Raymond andI made a part of the concert, and Adrian and Perdita were devout listeners.Then we were as gay as summer insects, playful as children; we ever met oneanother with smiles, and read content and joy in each other's countenances.Our prime festivals were held in Perdita's cottage; nor were we ever wearyof talking of the past or dreaming of the future. Jealousy and disquietwere unknown among us; nor did a fear or hope of change ever disturb ourtranquillity. Others said, We might be happy--we said--We are.
When any separation took place between us, it generally so happened, thatIdris and Perdita would ramble away together, and we remained to discussthe affairs of nations, and the philosophy of life. The very difference ofour dispositions gave zest to these conversations. Adrian had thesuperiority in learning and eloquence; but Raymond possessed a quickpenetration, and a practical knowledge of life, which usually displayeditself in opposition to Adrian, and thus kept up the ball of discussion. Atother times we made excursions of many days' duration, and crossed thecountry to visit any spot noted for beauty or historical association.Sometimes we went up to London, and entered into the amusements of the busythrong; sometimes our retreat was invaded by visitors from among them. Thischange made us only the more sensible to the delights of the intimateintercourse of our own circle, the tranquillity of our divine forest, andour happy evenings in the halls of our beloved Castle.
The disposition of Idris was peculiarly frank, soft, and affectionate. Hertemper was unalterably sweet; and although firm and resolute on any pointthat touched her heart, she was yielding to those she loved. The nature ofPerdita was less perfect; but tenderness and happiness improved her temper,and softened her natural reserve. Her understanding was clear andcomprehensive, her imagination vivid; she was sincere, generous, andreasonable. Adrian, the matchless brother of my soul, the sensitive andexcellent Adrian, loving all, and beloved by all, yet seemed destined notto find the half of himself, which was to complete his happiness. He oftenleft us, and wandered by himself in the woods, or sailed in his littleskiff, his books his only companions. He was often the gayest of our party,at the same time that he was the only one visited by fits of despondency;his slender frame seemed overcharged with the weight of life, and his soulappeared rather to inhabit his body than unite with it. I was hardly moredevoted to my Idris than to her brother, and she loved him as her teacher,her friend, the benefactor who had secured to her the fulfilment of herdearest wishes. Raymond, the ambitious, restless Raymond, reposed midway onthe great high-road of life, and was content to give up all his schemes ofsovereignty and fame, to make one of us, the flowers of the field. Hiskingdom was the heart of Perdita, his subjects her thoughts; by her he wasloved, respected as a superior being, obeyed, waited on. No office, nodevotion, no watching was irksome to her, as it regarded him. She would sitapart from us and watch him; she would weep for joy to think that he washers. She erected a temple for him in the depth of her being, and eachfaculty was a priestess vowed to his service. Sometimes she might bewayward and capricious; but her repentance was bitter, her return entire,and even this inequality of temper suited him who was not formed by natureto float idly down the stream of life.
During the first year of their marriage, Perdita presented Raymond with alovely girl. It was curious to trace in this miniature model the verytraits of its father. The same half-disdainful lips and smile of triumph,the same intelligent eyes, the same brow and chestnut hair; her very handsand taper fingers resembled his. How very dear she was to Perdita! Inprogress of time, I also became a father, and our little darlings, ourplaythings and delights, called forth a thousand new and deliciousfeelings.
Years passed thus,--even years. Each month brought forth its successor,each year one like to that gone by; truly, our lives were a living commenton that beautiful sentiment of Plutarch, that "our souls have a naturalinclination to love, being born as much to love, as to feel, to reason, tounderstand and remember." We talked of change and active pursuits, butstill remained at Windsor, incapable of violating the charm that attachedus to our secluded life.
Pareamo aver qui tutto il ben raccolto Che fra mortali in piu parte si rimembra.
Now also that our children gave us occupation, we found excuses forour idleness, in the idea of bringing them up to a more splendidcareer. At length our tranquillity was disturbed, and the course of events,which for five years had flowed on in hushing tranquillity, was broken bybreakers and obstacles, that woke us from our pleasant dream.
A new Lord Protector of England was to be chosen; and, at Raymond'srequest, we removed to London, to witness, and even take a part in theelection. If Raymond had been united to Idris, this post had been hisstepping-stone to higher dignity; and his desire for power and fame hadbeen crowned with fullest measure. He had exchanged a sceptre for a lute, akingdom for Perdita.
Did he think of this as we journeyed up to town? I watched him, but couldmake but little of him. He was particularly gay, playing with his child,and turning to sport every word that was uttered. Perhaps he did thisbecause he saw a cloud upon Perdita's brow. She tried to rouse herself, buther eyes every now and then filled with tears, and she looked wistfully onRaymond and her girl, as if fearful that some evil would betide them. Andso she felt. A presentiment of ill hung over her. She leaned from thewindow looking on the forest, and the turrets of the Castle, and as thesebecame hid by intervening objects, she passionately exclaimed--"Scenes ofhappiness! scenes sacred to devoted love, when shall I see you again! andwhen I see ye, shall I be still the beloved and joyous Perdita, or shall I,heart-broken and lost, wander among your groves, the ghost of what Iam!"
"Why, silly one," cried Raymond, "what is your little head ponderingupon, that of a sudden you have become so sublimely dismal? Cheer up, or Ishall make you over to Idris, and call Adrian into the carriage, who, I seeby his gesture, sympathizes with my good spirits."
Adrian was on horseback; he rode up to the carriage, and his gaiety, inaddition to that of Raymond, dispelled my sister's melancholy. We enteredLondon in the evening, and went to our several abodes near Hyde Park.
The following morning Lord Raymond visited me early. "I come to you," hesaid, "only half assured that you will assist me in my project, butresolved to go through with it, whether you concur with me or not. Promiseme secrecy however; for if you will not contribute to my success, at leastyou must not baffle me."
"Well, I promise. And now---"
"And now, my dear fellow, for what are we come to London? To be present atthe election of a Protector, and to give our yea or nay for his shufflingGrace of----? or for that noisy Ryland? Do you believe, Verney, that Ibrought you to town for that? No, we will have a Protector of our own. Wewill set up a candidate, and ensure his success. We will nominate Adrian,and do our best to bestow on him the power to which he is entitled by hisbirth, and which he merits through his virtues.
"Do not answer; I know all your objection
s, and will reply to them inorder. First, Whether he will or will not consent to become a great man?Leave the task of persuasion on that point to me; I do not ask you toassist me there. Secondly, Whether he ought to exchange his employment ofplucking blackberries, and nursing wounded partridges in the forest, forthe command of a nation? My dear Lionel, we are married men, and findemployment sufficient in amusing our wives, and dancing our children. ButAdrian is alone, wifeless, childless, unoccupied. I have long observed him.He pines for want of some interest in life. His heart, exhausted by hisearly sufferings, reposes like a new-healed limb, and shrinks from allexcitement. But his understanding, his charity, his virtues, want a fieldfor exercise and display; and we will procure it for him. Besides, is itnot a shame, that the genius of Adrian should fade from the earth like aflower in an untrod mountain-path, fruitless? Do you think Nature composedhis surpassing machine for no purpose? Believe me, he was destined to bethe author of infinite good to his native England. Has she not bestowed onhim every gift in prodigality?--birth, wealth, talent, goodness? Does notevery one love and admire him? and does he not delight singly in suchefforts as manifest his love to all? Come, I see that you are alreadypersuaded, and will second me when I propose him to-night in parliament."
"You have got up all your arguments in excellent order," I replied; "and,if Adrian consent, they are unanswerable. One only condition I would make,--that you do nothing without his concurrence."
"I believe you are in the right," said Raymond; "although I had thought atfirst to arrange the affair differently. Be it so. I will go instantly toAdrian; and, if he inclines to consent, you will not destroy my labour bypersuading him to return, and turn squirrel again in Windsor Forest. Idris,you will not act the traitor towards me?"
"Trust me," replied she, "I will preserve a strict neutrality."
"For my part," said I, "I am too well convinced of the worth of our friend,and the rich harvest of benefits that all England would reap from hisProtectorship, to deprive my countrymen of such a blessing, if he consentto bestow it on them."
In the evening Adrian visited us.--"Do you cabal also against me," saidhe, laughing; "and will you make common cause with Raymond, in dragging apoor visionary from the clouds to surround him with the fire-works andblasts of earthly grandeur, instead of heavenly rays and airs? I thoughtyou knew me better."
"I do know you better," I replied "than to think that you would be happy insuch a situation; but the good you would do to others may be an inducement,since the time is probably arrived when you can put your theories intopractice, and you may bring about such reformation and change, as willconduce to that perfect system of government which you delight toportray."
"You speak of an almost-forgotten dream," said Adrian, his countenanceslightly clouding as he spoke; "the visions of my boyhood have long sincefaded in the light of reality; I know now that I am not a man fitted togovern nations; sufficient for me, if I keep in wholesome rule the littlekingdom of my own mortality.
"But do not you see, Lionel, the drift of our noble friend; a drift,perhaps, unknown to himself, but apparent to me. Lord Raymond was neverborn to be a drone in the hive, and to find content in our pastoral life.He thinks, that he ought to be satisfied; he imagines, that his presentsituation precludes the possibility of aggrandisement; he does nottherefore, even in his own heart, plan change for himself. But do you notsee, that, under the idea of exalting me, he is chalking out a new path forhimself; a path of action from which he has long wandered?
"Let us assist him. He, the noble, the warlike, the great in every qualitythat can adorn the mind and person of man; he is fitted to be the Protectorof England. If I--that is, if we propose him, he will assuredly beelected, and will find, in the functions of that high office, scope for thetowering powers of his mind. Even Perdita will rejoice. Perdita, in whomambition was a covered fire until she married Raymond, which event was fora time the fulfilment of her hopes; Perdita will rejoice in the glory andadvancement of her lord--and, coyly and prettily, not be discontentedwith her share. In the mean time, we, the wise of the land, will return toour Castle, and, Cincinnatus-like, take to our usual labours, until ourfriend shall require our presence and assistance here."
The more Adrian reasoned upon this scheme, the more feasible it appeared.His own determination never to enter into public life was insurmountable,and the delicacy of his health was a sufficient argument against it. Thenext step was to induce Raymond to confess his secret wishes for dignityand fame. He entered while we were speaking. The way in which Adrian hadreceived his project for setting him up as a candidate for theProtectorship, and his replies, had already awakened in his mind, the viewof the subject which we were now discussing. His countenance and mannerbetrayed irresolution and anxiety; but the anxiety arose from a fear thatwe should not prosecute, or not succeed in our idea; and his irresolution,from a doubt whether we should risk a defeat. A few words from us decidedhim, and hope and joy sparkled in his eyes; the idea of embarking in acareer, so congenial to his early habits and cherished wishes, made him asbefore energetic and bold. We discussed his chances, the merits of theother candidates, and the dispositions of the voters.
After all we miscalculated. Raymond had lost much of his popularity, andwas deserted by his peculiar partizans. Absence from the busy stage hadcaused him to be forgotten by the people; his former parliamentarysupporters were principally composed of royalists, who had been willing tomake an idol of him when he appeared as the heir of the Earldom of Windsor;but who were indifferent to him, when he came forward with no otherattributes and distinctions than they conceived to be common to many amongthemselves. Still he had many friends, admirers of his transcendenttalents; his presence in the house, his eloquence, address and imposingbeauty, were calculated to produce an electric effect. Adrian also,notwithstanding his recluse habits and theories, so adverse to the spiritof party, had many friends, and they were easily induced to vote for acandidate of his selection.
The Duke of----, and Mr. Ryland, Lord Raymond's old antagonist, were theother candidates. The Duke was supported by all the aristocrats of therepublic, who considered him their proper representative. Ryland was thepopular candidate; when Lord Raymond was first added to the list, hischance of success appeared small. We retired from the debate which hadfollowed on his nomination: we, his nominators, mortified; he dispirited toexcess. Perdita reproached us bitterly. Her expectations had been stronglyexcited; she had urged nothing against our project, on the contrary, shewas evidently pleased by it; but its evident ill success changed thecurrent of her ideas. She felt, that, once awakened, Raymond would neverreturn unrepining to Windsor. His habits were unhinged; his restless mindroused from its sleep, ambition must now be his companion through life; andif he did not succeed in his present attempt, she foresaw that unhappinessand cureless discontent would follow. Perhaps her own disappointment addeda sting to her thoughts and words; she did not spare us, and our ownreflections added to our disquietude.
It was necessary to follow up our nomination, and to persuade Raymond topresent himself to the electors on the following evening. For a long timehe was obstinate. He would embark in a balloon; he would sail for a distantquarter of the world, where his name and humiliation were unknown. But thiswas useless; his attempt was registered; his purpose published to theworld; his shame could never be erased from the memories of men. It was aswell to fail at last after a struggle, as to fly now at the beginning ofhis enterprise.
From the moment that he adopted this idea, he was changed. His depressionand anxiety fled; he became all life and activity. The smile of triumphshone on his countenance; determined to pursue his object to the uttermost,his manner and expression seem ominous of the accomplishment of his wishes.Not so Perdita. She was frightened by his gaiety, for she dreaded a greaterrevulsion at the end. If his appearance even inspired us with hope, it onlyrendered the state of her mind more painful. She feared to lose sight ofhim; yet she dreaded to remark any change in the temper of his mind. Shelistened eagerly to
him, yet tantalized herself by giving to his words ameaning foreign to their true interpretation, and adverse to her hopes. Shedared not be present at the contest; yet she remained at home a prey todouble solicitude. She wept over her little girl; she looked, she spoke, asif she dreaded the occurrence of some frightful calamity. She was half madfrom the effects of uncontrollable agitation.
Lord Raymond presented himself to the house with fearless confidence andinsinuating address. After the Duke of----and Mr. Ryland had finishedtheir speeches, he commenced. Assuredly he had not conned his lesson; andat first he hesitated, pausing in his ideas, and in the choice of hisexpressions. By degrees he warmed; his words flowed with ease, his languagewas full of vigour, and his voice of persuasion. He reverted to his pastlife, his successes in Greece, his favour at home. Why should he lose this,now that added years, prudence, and the pledge which his marriage gave tohis country, ought to encrease, rather than diminish his claims toconfidence? He spoke of the state of England; the necessary measures to betaken to ensure its security, and confirm its prosperity. He drew a glowingpicture of its present situation. As he spoke, every sound was hushed,every thought suspended by intense attention. His graceful elocutionenchained the senses of his hearers. In some degree also he was fitted toreconcile all parties. His birth pleased the aristocracy; his being thecandidate recommended by Adrian, a man intimately allied to the popularparty, caused a number, who had no great reliance either on the Duke or Mr.Ryland, to range on his side.
The contest was keen and doubtful. Neither Adrian nor myself would havebeen so anxious, if our own success had depended on our exertions; but wehad egged our friend on to the enterprise, and it became us to ensure histriumph. Idris, who entertained the highest opinion of his abilities, waswarmly interested in the event: and my poor sister, who dared not hope, andto whom fear was misery, was plunged into a fever of disquietude.
Day after day passed while we discussed our projects for the evening, andeach night was occupied by debates which offered no conclusion. At last thecrisis came: the night when parliament, which had so long delayed itschoice, must decide: as the hour of twelve passed, and the new day began,it was by virtue of the constitution dissolved, its power extinct.
We assembled at Raymond's house, we and our partizans. At half past fiveo'clock we proceeded to the House. Idris endeavoured to calm Perdita; butthe poor girl's agitation deprived her of all power of self-command. Shewalked up and down the room,--gazed wildly when any one entered, fancyingthat they might be the announcers of her doom. I must do justice to mysweet sister: it was not for herself that she was thus agonized. She aloneknew the weight which Raymond attached to his success. Even to us heassumed gaiety and hope, and assumed them so well, that we did not divinethe secret workings of his mind. Sometimes a nervous trembling, a sharpdissonance of voice, and momentary fits of absence revealed to Perdita theviolence he did himself; but we, intent on our plans, observed only hisready laugh, his joke intruded on all occasions, the flow of his spiritswhich seemed incapable of ebb. Besides, Perdita was with him in hisretirement; she saw the moodiness that succeeded to this forced hilarity;she marked his disturbed sleep, his painful irritability--once she hadseen his tears--hers had scarce ceased to flow, since she had beheld thebig drops which disappointed pride had caused to gather in his eye, butwhich pride was unable to dispel. What wonder then, that her feelings werewrought to this pitch! I thus accounted to myself for her agitation; butthis was not all, and the sequel revealed another excuse.
One moment we seized before our departure, to take leave of our belovedgirls. I had small hope of success, and entreated Idris to watch over mysister. As I approached the latter, she seized my hand, and drew me intoanother apartment; she threw herself into my arms, and wept and sobbedbitterly and long. I tried to soothe her; I bade her hope; I asked whattremendous consequences would ensue even on our failure. "My brother," shecried, "protector of my childhood, dear, most dear Lionel, my fate hangs bya thread. I have you all about me now--you, the companion of my infancy;Adrian, as dear to me as if bound by the ties of blood; Idris, the sisterof my heart, and her lovely offspring. This, O this may be the last timethat you will surround me thus!"
Abruptly she stopped, and then cried: "What have I said?--foolish falsegirl that I am!" She looked wildly on me, and then suddenly calmingherself, apologized for what she called her unmeaning words, saying thatshe must indeed be insane, for, while Raymond lived, she must be happy; andthen, though she still wept, she suffered me tranquilly to depart. Raymondonly took her hand when he went, and looked on her expressively; sheanswered by a look of intelligence and assent.
Poor girl! what she then suffered! I could never entirely forgive Raymondfor the trials he imposed on her, occasioned as they were by a selfishfeeling on his part. He had schemed, if he failed in his present attempt,without taking leave of any of us, to embark for Greece, and never again torevisit England. Perdita acceded to his wishes; for his contentment was thechief object of her life, the crown of her enjoyment; but to leave us all,her companions, the beloved partners of her happiest years, and in theinterim to conceal this frightful determination, was a task that almostconquered her strength of mind. She had been employed in arranging fortheir departure; she had promised Raymond during this decisive evening, totake advantage of our absence, to go one stage of the journey, and he,after his defeat was ascertained, would slip away from us, and join her.
Although, when I was informed of this scheme, I was bitterly offended bythe small attention which Raymond paid to my sister's feelings, I was ledby reflection to consider, that he acted under the force of such strongexcitement, as to take from him the consciousness, and, consequently, theguilt of a fault. If he had permitted us to witness his agitation, he wouldhave been more under the guidance of reason; but his struggles for the shewof composure, acted with such violence on his nerves, as to destroy hispower of self-command. I am convinced that, at the worst, he would havereturned from the seashore to take leave of us, and to make us the partnersof his council. But the task imposed on Perdita was not the less painful.He had extorted from her a vow of secrecy; and her part of the drama, sinceit was to be performed alone, was the most agonizing that could be devised.But to return to my narrative.
The debates had hitherto been long and loud; they had often been protractedmerely for the sake of delay. But now each seemed fearful lest the fatalmoment should pass, while the choice was yet undecided. Unwonted silencereigned in the house, the members spoke in whispers, and the ordinarybusiness was transacted with celerity and quietness. During the first stageof the election, the Duke of----had been thrown out; the questiontherefore lay between Lord Raymond and Mr. Ryland. The latter had feltsecure of victory, until the appearance of Raymond; and, since his name hadbeen inserted as a candidate, he had canvassed with eagerness. He hadappeared each evening, impatience and anger marked in his looks, scowlingon us from the opposite side of St. Stephen's, as if his mere frown wouldcast eclipse on our hopes.
Every thing in the English constitution had been regulated for the betterpreservation of peace. On the last day, two candidates only were allowed toremain; and to obviate, if possible, the last struggle between these, abribe was offered to him who should voluntarily resign his pretensions; aplace of great emolument and honour was given him, and his successfacilitated at a future election. Strange to say however, no instance hadyet occurred, where either candidate had had recourse to this expedient; inconsequence the law had become obsolete, nor had been referred to by any ofus in our discussions. To our extreme surprise, when it was moved that weshould resolve ourselves into a committee for the election of the LordProtector, the member who had nominated Ryland, rose and informed us thatthis candidate had resigned his pretensions. His information was at firstreceived with silence; a confused murmur succeeded; and, when the chairmandeclared Lord Raymond duly chosen, it amounted to a shout of applause andvictory. It seemed as if, far from any dread of defeat even if Mr. Rylandhad not resigned, every voice would have been
united in favour of ourcandidate. In fact, now that the idea of contest was dismissed, all heartsreturned to their former respect and admiration of our accomplished friend.Each felt, that England had never seen a Protector so capable of fulfillingthe arduous duties of that high office. One voice made of many voices,resounded through the chamber; it syllabled the name of Raymond.
He entered. I was on one of the highest seats, and saw him walk up thepassage to the table of the speaker. The native modesty of his dispositionconquered the joy of his triumph. He looked round timidly; a mist seemedbefore his eyes. Adrian, who was beside me, hastened to him, and jumpingdown the benches, was at his side in a moment. His appearance re-animatedour friend; and, when he came to speak and act, his hesitation vanished,and he shone out supreme in majesty and victory. The former Protectortendered him the oaths, and presented him with the insignia of office,performing the ceremonies of installation. The house then dissolved. Thechief members of the state crowded round the new magistrate, and conductedhim to the palace of government. Adrian suddenly vanished; and, by the timethat Raymond's supporters were reduced to our intimate friends merely,returned leading Idris to congratulate her friend on his success.
But where was Perdita? In securing solicitously an unobserved retreat incase of failure, Raymond had forgotten to arrange the mode by which she wasto hear of his success; and she had been too much agitated to revert tothis circumstance. When Idris entered, so far had Raymond forgottenhimself, that he asked for my sister; one word, which told of hermysterious disappearance, recalled him. Adrian it is true had already goneto seek the fugitive, imagining that her tameless anxiety had led her tothe purlieus of the House, and that some sinister event detained her. ButRaymond, without explaining himself, suddenly quitted us, and in anothermoment we heard him gallop down the street, in spite of the wind and rainthat scattered tempest over the earth. We did not know how far he had togo, and soon separated, supposing that in a short time he would return tothe palace with Perdita, and that they would not be sorry to findthemselves alone.
Perdita had arrived with her child at Dartford, weeping and inconsolable.She directed everything to be prepared for the continuance of theirjourney, and placing her lovely sleeping charge on a bed, passed severalhours in acute suffering. Sometimes she observed the war of elements,thinking that they also declared against her, and listened to the patteringof the rain in gloomy despair. Sometimes she hung over her child, tracingher resemblance to the father, and fearful lest in after life she shoulddisplay the same passions and uncontrollable impulses, that rendered himunhappy. Again, with a gush of pride and delight, she marked in thefeatures of her little girl, the same smile of beauty that often irradiatedRaymond's countenance. The sight of it soothed her. She thought of thetreasure she possessed in the affections of her lord; of hisaccomplishments, surpassing those of his contemporaries, his genius, hisdevotion to her.--Soon she thought, that all she possessed in the world,except him, might well be spared, nay, given with delight, a propitiatoryoffering, to secure the supreme good she retained in him. Soon sheimagined, that fate demanded this sacrifice from her, as a mark she wasdevoted to Raymond, and that it must be made with cheerfulness. She figuredto herself their life in the Greek isle he had selected for their retreat;her task of soothing him; her cares for the beauteous Clara, her rides inhis company, her dedication of herself to his consolation. The picture thenpresented itself to her in such glowing colours, that she feared thereverse, and a life of magnificence and power in London; where Raymondwould no longer be hers only, nor she the sole source of happiness to him.So far as she merely was concerned, she began to hope for defeat; and itwas only on his account that her feelings vacillated, as she heard himgallop into the court-yard of the inn. That he should come to her alone,wetted by the storm, careless of every thing except speed, what else couldit mean, than that, vanquished and solitary, they were to take their wayfrom native England, the scene of shame, and hide themselves in the myrtlegroves of the Grecian isles?
In a moment she was in his arms. The knowledge of his success had become somuch a part of himself, that he forgot that it was necessary to impart itto his companion. She only felt in his embrace a dear assurance that whilehe possessed her, he would not despair. "This is kind," she cried; "this isnoble, my own beloved! O fear not disgrace or lowly fortune, while you haveyour Perdita; fear not sorrow, while our child lives and smiles. Let us goeven where you will; the love that accompanies us will prevent ourregrets."
Locked in his embrace, she spoke thus, and cast back her head, seeking anassent to her words in his eyes--they were sparkling with ineffabledelight. "Why, my little Lady Protectress," said he, playfully, "what isthis you say? And what pretty scheme have you woven of exile and obscurity,while a brighter web, a gold-enwoven tissue, is that which, in truth, youought to contemplate?"
He kissed her brow--but the wayward girl, half sorry at his triumph,agitated by swift change of thought, hid her face in his bosom and wept. Hecomforted her; he instilled into her his own hopes and desires; and soonher countenance beamed with sympathy. How very happy were they that night!How full even to bursting was their sense of joy!