CHAPTER SIXTEENTH.
It happened one day about noon, going to my boat, I was exceedingly surprised with the print of a man's naked foot on the shore, which was very plain to be seen on the sand. Robinson Crusoe.
With the blended feelings of interest and jealousy which were engenderedby Miss Vernon's singular situation, my observations of her looks andactions became acutely sharpened, and that to a degree which,notwithstanding my efforts to conceal it, could not escape herpenetration. The sense that she was observed, or, more properly speaking,that she was watched by my looks, seemed to give Diana a mixture ofembarrassment, pain, and pettishness. At times it seemed that she soughtan opportunity of resenting a conduct which she could not but feel asoffensive, considering the frankness with which she had mentioned thedifficulties that surrounded her. At other times she seemed prepared toexpostulate upon the subject. But either her courage failed, or someother sentiment impeded her seeking an _e'claircissement._ Herdispleasure evaporated in repartee, and her expostulations died on herlips. We stood in a singular relation to each other,--spending, and bymutual choice, much of our time in close society with each other, yetdisguising our mutual sentiments, and jealous of, or offended by, eachother's actions. There was betwixt us intimacy without confidence;--onone side, love without hope or purpose, and curiosity without anyrational or justifiable motive; and on the other, embarrassment anddoubt, occasionally mingled with displeasure. Yet I believe that thisagitation of the passions (such is the nature of the human bosom), as itcontinued by a thousand irritating and interesting, though pettycircumstances, to render Miss Vernon and me the constant objects of eachother's thoughts, tended, upon the whole, to increase the attachment withwhich we were naturally disposed to regard each other. But although myvanity early discovered that my presence at Osbaldistone Hall had givenDiana some additional reason for disliking the cloister, I could by nomeans confide in an affection which seemed completely subordinate to themysteries of her singular situation. Miss Vernon was of a character fartoo formed and determined, to permit her love for me to overpower eitherher sense of duty or of prudence, and she gave me a proof of this in aconversation which we had together about this period.
We were sitting together in the library. Miss Vernon, in turning over acopy of the Orlando Furioso, which belonged to me, shook a piece ofwriting paper from between the leaves. I hastened to lift it, but sheprevented me.--"It is verse," she said, on glancing at the paper; andthen unfolding it, but as if to wait my answer before proceeding--"May Itake the liberty?--Nay, nay, if you blush and stammer, I must do violenceto your modesty, and suppose that permission is granted."
"It is not worthy your perusal--a scrap of a translation--My dear MissVernon, it would be too severe a trial, that you, who understand theoriginal so well, should sit in judgment."
"Mine honest friend," replied Diana, "do not, if you will be guided by myadvice, bait your hook with too much humility; for, ten to one, it willnot catch a single compliment. You know I belong to the unpopular familyof Tell-truths, and would not flatter Apollo for his lyre."
She proceeded to read the first stanza, which was nearly to the followingpurpose:--
"Ladies, and knights, and arms, and love's fair flame, Deeds of emprize and courtesy, I sing; What time the Moors from sultry Africk came, Led on by Agramant, their youthful king-- He whom revenge and hasty ire did bring O'er the broad wave, in France to waste and war; Such ills from old Trojano's death did spring, Which to avenge he came from realms afar, And menaced Christian Charles, the Roman Emperor. Of dauntless Roland, too, my strain shall sound, In import never known in prose or rhyme, How He, the chief, of judgment deemed profound, For luckless love was crazed upon a time"--
"There is a great deal of it," said she, glancing along the paper, andinterrupting the sweetest sounds which mortal ears can drink in,--thoseof a youthful poet's verses, namely, read by the lips which are dearestto him.
"Much more than ought to engage your attention, Miss Vernon," I replied,something mortified; and I took the verses from her unreluctant hand--"And yet," I continued, "shut up as I am in this retired situation, Ihave felt sometimes I could not amuse myself better than by carryingon--merely for my own amusement, you will of course understand--theversion of this fascinating author, which I began some months since whenI was on the banks of the Garonne."
"The question would only be," said Diana, gravely, "whether you could notspend your time to better purpose?"
"You mean in original composition?" said I, greatly flattered--"But, tosay truth, my genius rather lies in finding words and rhymes than ideas;and therefore I am happy to use those which Ariosto has prepared to myhand. However, Miss Vernon, with the encouragement you give"--
"Pardon me, Frank--it is encouragement not of my giving, but of yourtaking. I meant neither original composition nor translation, since Ithink you might employ your time to far better purpose than in either.You are mortified," she continued, "and I am sorry to be the cause."
"Not mortified,--certainly not mortified," said I, with the best grace Icould muster, and it was but indifferently assumed; "I am too muchobliged by the interest you take in me."
"Nay, but," resumed the relentless Diana, "there is both mortificationand a little grain of anger in that constrained tone of voice; do not beangry if I probe your feelings to the bottom--perhaps what I am about tosay will affect them still more."
I felt the childishness of my own conduct, and the superior manliness ofMiss Vernon's, and assured her, that she need not fear my wincing undercriticism which I knew to be kindly meant.
"That was honestly meant and said," she replied; "I knew full well thatthe fiend of poetical irritability flew away with the little preludingcough which ushered in the declaration. And now I must be serious--Haveyou heard from your father lately?"
"Not a word," I replied; "he has not honoured me with a single lineduring the several months of my residence here."
"That is strange!--you are a singular race, you bold Osbaldistones. Thenyou are not aware that he has gone to Holland, to arrange some pressingaffairs which required his own immediate presence?"
"I never heard a word of it until this moment."
"And farther, it must be news to you, and I presume scarcely the mostagreeable, that he has left Rashleigh in the almost uncontrolledmanagement of his affairs until his return."
I started, and could not suppress my surprise and apprehension.
"You have reason for alarm," said Miss Vernon, very gravely; "and were Iyou, I would endeavour to meet and obviate the dangers which arise fromso undesirable an arrangement."
"And how is it possible for me to do so?"
"Everything is possible for him who possesses courage and activity," shesaid, with a look resembling one of those heroines of the age ofchivalry, whose encouragement was wont to give champions double valour atthe hour of need; "and to the timid and hesitating, everything isimpossible, because it seems so."
"And what would you advise, Miss Vernon?" I replied, wishing, yetdreading, to hear her answer.
She paused a moment, then answered firmly--"That you instantly leaveOsbaldistone Hall, and return to London. You have perhaps already," shecontinued, in a softer tone, "been here too long; that fault was notyours. Every succeeding moment you waste here will be a crime. Yes, acrime: for I tell you plainly, that if Rashleigh long manages yourfather's affairs, you may consider his ruin as consummated."
"How is this possible?"
"Ask no questions," she said; "but believe me, Rashleigh's views extendfar beyond the possession or increase of commercial wealth: he will onlymake the command of Mr. Osbaldistone's revenues and property the means ofputting in motion his own ambitious and extensive schemes. While yourfather was in Britain this was impossible; during his absence, Rashleig
hwill possess many opportunities, and he will not neglect to use them."
"But how can I, in disgrace with my father, and divested of all controlover his affairs, prevent this danger by my mere presence in London?"
"That presence alone will do much. Your claim to interfere is a part ofyour birthright, and it is inalienable. You will have the countenance,doubtless, of your father's head-clerk, and confidential friends andpartners. Above all, Rashleigh's schemes are of a nature that"--(shestopped abruptly, as if fearful of saying too much)--"are, in short," sheresumed, "of the nature of all selfish and unconscientious plans, whichare speedily abandoned as soon as those who frame them perceive theirarts are discovered and watched. Therefore, in the language of yourfavourite poet--
To horse! to horse! Urge doubts to those that fear."
A feeling, irresistible in its impulse, induced me to reply--"Ah! Diana,can _you_ give me advice to leave Osbaldistone Hall?--then indeed I havealready been a resident here too long!"
Miss Vernon coloured, but proceeded with great firmness--"Indeed, I dogive you this advice--not only to quit Osbaldistone Hall, but never toreturn to it more. You have only one friend to regret here," shecontinued, forcing a smile, "and she has been long accustomed tosacrifice her friendships and her comforts to the welfare of others.In the world you will meet a hundred whose friendship will beas disinterested--more useful--less encumbered by untowardcircumstances--less influenced by evil tongues and evil times."
"Never!" I exclaimed, "never!--the world can afford me nothing to repaywhat I must leave behind me." Here I took her hand, and pressed it to mylips.
"This is folly!" she exclaimed--"this is madness!" and she struggled towithdraw her hand from my grasp, but not so stubbornly as actually tosucceed until I had held it for nearly a minute. "Hear me, sir!" shesaid, "and curb this unmanly burst of passion. I am, by a solemncontract, the bride of Heaven, unless I could prefer being wedded tovillany in the person of Rashleigh Osbaldistone, or brutality in that ofhis brother. I am, therefore, the bride of Heaven,--betrothed to theconvent from the cradle. To me, therefore, these raptures aremisapplied--they only serve to prove a farther necessity for yourdeparture, and that without delay." At these words she broke suddenlyoff, and said, but in a suppressed tone of voice, "Leave meinstantly--we will meet here again, but it must be for the last time."
My eyes followed the direction of hers as she spoke, and I thought I sawthe tapestry shake, which covered the door of the secret passage fromRashleigh's room to the library. I conceived we were observed, and turnedan inquiring glance on Miss Vernon.
"It is nothing," said she, faintly; "a rat behind the arras."
"Dead for a ducat," would have been my reply, had I dared to give way tothe feelings which rose indignant at the idea of being subjected to aneaves-dropper on such an occasion. Prudence, and the necessity ofsuppressing my passion, and obeying Diana's reiterated command of "Leaveme! leave me!" came in time to prevent my rash action. I left theapartment in a wild whirl and giddiness of mind, which I in vainattempted to compose when I returned to my own.
A chaos of thoughts intruded themselves on me at once, passing hastilythrough my brain, intercepting and overshadowing each other, andresembling those fogs which in mountainous countries are wont to descendin obscure volumes, and disfigure or obliterate the usual marks by whichthe traveller steers his course through the wilds. The dark and undefinedidea of danger arising to my father from the machinations of such a manas Rashleigh Osbaldistone--the half declaration of love that I hadoffered to Miss Vernon's acceptance--the acknowledged difficulties of hersituation, bound by a previous contract to sacrifice herself to acloister or to an ill-assorted marriage,--all pressed themselves at onceupon my recollection, while my judgment was unable deliberately toconsider any of them in their just light and bearings. But chiefly andabove all the rest, I was perplexed by the manner in which Miss Vernonhad received my tender of affection, and by her manner, which,fluctuating betwixt sympathy and firmness, seemed to intimate that Ipossessed an interest in her bosom, but not of force sufficient tocounterbalance the obstacles to her avowing a mutual affection. Theglance of fear, rather than surprise, with which she had watched themotion of the tapestry over the concealed door, implied an apprehensionof danger which I could not but suppose well grounded; for Diana Vernonwas little subject to the nervous emotions of her sex, and totally unaptto fear without actual and rational cause. Of what nature could thosemysteries be, with which she was surrounded as with an enchanter's spell,and which seemed continually to exert an active influence over herthoughts and actions, though their agents were never visible? On thissubject of doubt my mind finally rested, as if glad to shake itself freefrom investigating the propriety or prudence of my own conduct, bytransferring the inquiry to what concerned Miss Vernon. I will beresolved, I concluded, ere I leave Osbaldistone Hall, concerning thelight in which I must in future regard this fascinating being, over whoselife frankness and mystery seem to have divided their reign,--the formerinspiring her words and sentiments--the latter spreading in mistyinfluence over all her actions.
Joined to the obvious interests which arose from curiosity and anxiouspassion, there mingled in my feelings a strong, though unavowed andundefined, infusion of jealousy. This sentiment, which springs up withlove as naturally as the tares with the wheat, was excited by the degreeof influence which Diana appeared to concede to those unseen beings bywhom her actions were limited. The more I reflected upon her character,the more I was internally though unwillingly convinced, that she wasformed to set at defiance all control, excepting that which arose fromaffection; and I felt a strong, bitter, and gnawing suspicion, that suchwas the foundation of that influence by which she was overawed.
These tormenting doubts strengthened my desire to penetrate into thesecret of Miss Vernon's conduct, and in the prosecution of this sageadventure, I formed a resolution, of which, if you are not weary of thesedetails, you will find the result in the next chapter.