CHAPTER XI.
Three ruffians seized me yester morn, Alas! a maiden most forlorn; They choked my cries with wicked might, And bound me on a palfrey white: As sure as Heaven shall pity me, I cannot tell what men they be.--CHRISTABELLE.
The course of our story must here revert a little, to detail thecircumstances which had placed Miss Vere in the unpleasant situationfrom which she was unexpectedly, and indeed unintentionally liberated,by the appearance of Earnscliff and Elliot, with their friends andfollowers, before the Tower of Westburnflat.
On the morning preceding the night in which Hobbie's house was plunderedand burnt, Miss Vere was requested by her father to accompany him in awalk through a distant part of the romantic grounds which lay roundhis castle of Ellieslaw. "To hear was to obey," in the true style ofOriental despotism; but Isabella trembled in silence while she followedher father through rough paths, now winding by the side of the river,now ascending the cliffs which serve for its banks. A single servant,selected perhaps for his stupidity, was the only person who attendedthem. From her father's silence, Isabella little doubted that he hadchosen this distant and sequestered scene to resume the argument whichthey had so frequently maintained upon the subject of Sir Frederick'saddresses, and that he was meditating in what manner he should mosteffectually impress upon her the necessity of receiving him as hersuitor. But her fears seemed for some time to be unfounded. The onlysentences which her father from time to time addressed to her, respectedthe beauties of the romantic landscape through which they strolled, andwhich varied its features at every step. To these observations, althoughthey seemed to come from a heart occupied by more gloomy as well as moreimportant cares, Isabella endeavoured to answer in a manner as free andunconstrained as it was possible for her to assume, amid the involuntaryapprehensions which crowded upon her imagination.
Sustaining with mutual difficulty a desultory conversation, they atlength gained the centre of a small wood, composed of large oaks,intermingled with birches, mountain-ashes, hazel, holly, and a varietyof underwood. The boughs of the tall trees met closely above, and theunderwood filled up each interval between their trunks below. The spoton which they stood was rather more open; still, however, emboweredunder the natural arcade of tall trees, and darkened on the sides for aspace around by a great and lively growth of copse-wood and bushes.
"And here, Isabella," said Mr. Vere, as he pursued the conversation,so often resumed, so often dropped, "here I would erect an altar toFriendship."
"To Friendship, sir!" said Miss Vere; "and why on this gloomy andsequestered spot, rather than elsewhere?"
"O, the propriety of the LOCALE is easily vindicated," replied herfather, with a sneer. "You know, Miss Vere (for you, I am well aware,are a learned young lady), you know, that the Romans were not satisfiedwith embodying, for the purpose of worship, each useful quality andmoral virtue to which they could give a name; but they, moreover,worshipped the same under each variety of titles and attributes whichcould give a distinct shade, or individual character, to the virtue inquestion. Now, for example, the Friendship to whom a temple should behere dedicated, is not Masculine Friendship, which abhors and despisesduplicity, art, and disguise; but Female Friendship, which consists inlittle else than a mutual disposition on the part of the friends, asthey call themselves, to abet each other in obscure fraud and pettyintrigue."
"You are severe, sir," said Miss Vere.
"Only just," said her father; "a humble copier I am from nature, withthe advantage of contemplating two such excellent studies as LucyIlderton and yourself."
"If I have been unfortunate enough to offend, sir, I can conscientiouslyexcuse Miss Ilderton from being either my counsellor or confidante."
"Indeed! how came you, then," said Mr. Vere, "by the flippancy ofspeech, and pertness of argument, by which you have disgusted SirFrederick, and given me of late such deep offence?"
"If my manner has been so unfortunate as to displease you, sir, itis impossible for me to apologize too deeply, or too sincerely; but Icannot confess the same contrition for having answered Sir Frederickflippantly when he pressed me rudely. Since he forgot I was a lady, itwas time to show him that I am at least a woman."
"Reserve, then, your pertness for those who press you on the topic,Isabella," said her father coldly; "for my part, I am weary of thesubject, and will never speak upon it again."
"God bless you, my dear father," said Isabella, seizing his reluctanthand "there is nothing you can impose on me, save the task of listeningto this man's persecution, that I will call, or think, a hardship."
"You are very obliging, Miss Vere, when it happens to suit you to bedutiful," said her unrelenting father, forcing himself at the same timefrom the affectionate grasp of her hand; "but henceforward, child, Ishall save myself the trouble of offering you unpleasant advice on anytopic. You must look to yourself."
At this moment four ruffians rushed upon them. Mr. Vere and his servantdrew their hangers, which it was the fashion of the time to wear, andattempted to defend themselves and protect Isabella. But while each ofthem was engaged by an antagonist, she was forced into the thicket bythe two remaining villains, who placed her and themselves on horseswhich stood ready behind the copse-wood. They mounted at the same time,and, placing her between them, set of at a round gallop, holding thereins of her horse on each side. By many an obscure and winding path,over dale and down, through moss and moor, she was conveyed to the towerof Westburnflat, where she remained strictly watched, but not otherwiseill-treated, under the guardianship of the old woman, to whose son thatretreat belonged. No entreaties could prevail upon the hag to give MissVere any information on the object of her being carried forcibly off,and confined in this secluded place. The arrival of Earnscliff, with astrong party of horsemen, before the tower, alarmed the robber. As hehad already directed Grace Armstrong to be restored to her friends, itdid not occur to him that this unwelcome visit was on her account; andseeing at the head of the party, Earnscliff, whose attachment to MissVere was whispered in the country, he doubted not that her liberationwas the sole object of the attack upon his fastness. The dread ofpersonal consequences compelled him to deliver up his prisoner in themanner we have already related.
At the moment the tramp of horses was heard which carried off thedaughter of Ellieslaw, her father fell to the earth, and his servant, astout young fellow, who was gaining ground on the ruffian with whom hehad been engaged, left the combat to come to his master's assistance,little doubting that he had received a mortal wound, Both the villainsimmediately desisted from farther combat, and, retreating into thethicket, mounted their horses, and went off at full speed after theircompanions. Meantime, Dixon had the satisfaction to find Mr. Vere notonly alive, but unwounded. He had overreached himself, and stumbled,it seemed, over the root of a tree, in making too eager a blow at hisantagonist. The despair he felt at his daughter's disappearance, was, inDixon's phrase, such as would have melted the heart of a whin stane, andhe was so much exhausted by his feelings, and the vain researches whichhe made to discover the track of the ravishers, that a considerabletime elapsed ere he reached home, and communicated the alarm to hisdomestics.
All his conduct and gestures were those of a desperate man.
"Speak not to me, Sir Frederick," he said impatiently; "You are nofather--she was my child, an ungrateful one! I fear, but still mychild--my only child. Where is Miss Ilderton? she must know something ofthis. It corresponds with what I was informed of her schemes. Go, Dixon,call Ratcliffe here Let him come without a minute's delay." The personhe had named at this moment entered the room.
"I say, Dixon," continued Mr. Vere, in an altered tone, "let Mr.Ratcliffe know, I beg the favour of his company on particularbusiness.--Ah! my dear sir," he proceeded, as if noticing him for thefirst time, "you are the very man whose advice can be of the utmostservice to me in this cruel extremity."
"What has happened, Mr. Vere, to discompose you?" said Mr, Ratcliffe,gravely; and while the Laird of El
lieslaw details to him, with the mostanimated gestures of grief and indignation, the singular adventure ofthe morning, we shall take the opportunity to inform our readers of therelative circumstances in which these gentlemen stood to each other.
In early youth, Mr. Vere of Ellieslaw had been remarkable for a careerof dissipation, which, in advanced life, he had exchanged for the noless destructive career of dark and turbulent ambition. In bothcases, he had gratified the predominant passion without respect to thediminution of his private fortune, although, where such inducementswere wanting, he was deemed close, avaricious, and grasping. His affairsbeing much embarrassed by his earlier extravagance, he went to England,where he was understood to have formed a very advantageous matrimonialconnexion. He was many years absent from his family estate. Suddenly andunexpectedly he returned a widower, bringing with him his daughter,then a girl of about ten years old. From this moment his expenseseemed unbounded, in the eyes of the simple inhabitants of his nativemountains. It was supposed he must necessarily have plunged himselfdeeply in debt. Yet he continued to live in the same lavish expense,until some months before the commencement of our narrative, when thepublic opinion of his embarrassed circumstances was confirmed, bythe residence of Mr. Ratcliffe at Ellieslaw Castle, who, by the tacitconsent, though obviously to the great displeasure, of the lord of themansion, seemed, from the moment of his arrival, to assume and exercisea predominant and unaccountable influence in the management of hisprivate affairs.
Mr. Ratcliffe was a grave, steady, reserved man, in an advanced periodof life. To those with whom he had occasion to speak upon business, heappeared uncommonly well versed in all its forms. With others he heldlittle communication; but in any casual intercourse, or conversation,displayed the powers of an active and well-informed mind. For sometime before taking up his final residence at the castle, he had beenan occasional visitor there, and was at such times treated by Mr. Vere(contrary to his general practice towards those who were inferior tohim in rank) with marked attention, and even deference. Yet his arrivalalways appeared to be an embarrassment to his host, and his departure arelief; so that, when he became a constant inmate of the family, it wasimpossible not to observe indications of the displeasure with which Mr.Vere regarded his presence. Indeed, their intercourse formed a singularmixture of confidence and constraint. Mr. Vere's most important affairswere regulated by Mr. Ratcliffe; and although he was none of thoseindulgent men of fortune, who, too indolent to manage their ownbusiness, are glad to devolve it upon another, yet, in many instances,he was observed to give up his own judgment, and submit to the contraryopinions which Mr. Ratcliffe did not hesitate distinctly to express.
Nothing seemed to vex Mr. Vere more than when strangers indicated anyobservation of the state of tutelage under which he appeared to labour.When it was noticed by Sir Frederick, or any of his intimates, hesometimes repelled their remarks haughtily and indignantly, andsometimes endeavoured to evade them, by saying, with a forced laugh,"That Ratcliffe knew his own importance, but that he was the most honestand skilful fellow in the world; and that it would be impossible for himto manage his English affairs without his advice and assistance." Suchwas the person who entered the room at the moment Mr. Vere was summoninghim to his presence, and who now heard with surprise, mingled withobvious incredulity, the hasty narrative of what had befallen Isabella.
Her father concluded, addressing Sir Frederick and the other gentlemen,who stood around in astonishment, "And now, my friends, you see the mostunhappy father in Scotland. Lend me your assistance, gentlemen--give meyour advice, Mr. Ratcliffe. I am incapable of acting, or thinking, underthe unexpected violence of such a blow."
"Let us take our horses, call our attendants, and scour the country inpursuit of the villains," said Sir Frederick.
"Is there no one whom you can suspect," said Ratcliffe, gravely, "ofhaving some motive for this strange crime? These are not the days ofromance, when ladies are carried off merely for their beauty."
"I fear," said Mr. Vere, "I can too well account for this strangeincident. Read this letter, which Miss Lucy Ilderton thought fit toaddress from my house of Ellieslaw to young Mr. Earnscliff; whom, of allmen, I have a hereditary right to call my enemy. You see she writesto him as the confidant of a passion which he has the assurance toentertain for my daughter; tells him she serves his cause with herfriend very ardently, but that he has a friend in the garrison whoserves him yet more effectually. Look particularly at the pencilledpassages, Mr. Ratcliffe, where this meddling girl recommends boldmeasures, with an assurance that his suit would be successful anywherebeyond the bounds of the barony of Ellieslaw."
"And you argue, from this romantic letter of a very romantic young lady,Mr. Vere," said Ratcliffe, "that young Earnscliff has carried off yourdaughter, and committed a very great and criminal act of violence, on nobetter advice and assurance than that of Miss Lucy Ilderton?"
"What else can I think?" said Ellieslaw.
"What else CAN you think?" said Sir Frederick; "or who else could haveany motive for committing such a crime?"
"Were that the best mode of fixing the guilt," said Mr. Ratcliffe,calmly, "there might easily be pointed out persons to whom such actionsare more congenial, and who have also sufficient motives of instigation.Supposing it were judged advisable to remove Miss Vere to some place inwhich constraint might be exercised upon her inclinations to a degreewhich cannot at present be attempted under the roof of EllieslawCastle--What says Sir Frederick Langley to that supposition?"
"I say," returned Sir Frederick, "that although Mr. Vere may choose toendure in Mr. Ratcliffe freedoms totally inconsistent with his situationin life, I will not permit such license of innuendo, by word or look, tobe extended to me, with impunity."
"And I say," said young Mareschal of Mareschal-Wells, who was alsoa guest at the castle, "that you are all stark mad to be standingwrangling here, instead of going in pursuit of the ruffians."
"I have ordered off the domestics already in the track most likely toovertake them," said Mr. Vere "if you will favour me with your company,we will follow them, and assist in the search."
The efforts of the party were totally unsuccessful, probably becauseEllieslaw directed the pursuit to proceed in the direction of EarnscliffTower, under the supposition that the owner would prove to be theauthor of the violence, so that they followed a direction diametricallyopposite to that in which the ruffians had actually proceeded. In theevening they returned, harassed and out of spirits. But other guestshad, in the meanwhile, arrived at the castle; and, after the recent losssustained by the owner had been related, wondered at, and lamented, therecollection of it was, for the present, drowned in the discussionof deep political intrigues, of which the crisis and explosion weremomentarily looked for.
Several of the gentlemen who took part in this divan were Catholics, andall of them stanch Jacobites, whose hopes were at present at the highestpitch, as an invasion, in favour of the Pretender, was daily expectedfrom France, which Scotland, between the defenceless state of itsgarrisons and fortified places, and the general disaffection of theinhabitants, was rather prepared to welcome than to resist. Ratcliffe,who neither sought to assist at their consultations on this subject,nor was invited to do so, had, in the meanwhile, retired to his ownapartment. Miss Ilderton was sequestered from society in a sort ofhonourable confinement, "until," said Mr. Vere, "she should be safelyconveyed home to her father's house," an opportunity for which occurredon the following day.
The domestics could not help thinking it remarkable how soon the loss ofMiss Vere, and the strange manner in which it had happened, seemed to beforgotten by the other guests at the castle. They knew not, that thosethe most interested in her fate were well acquainted with the causeof her being carried off, and the place of her retreat; and that theothers, in the anxious and doubtful moments which preceded the breakingforth of a conspiracy, were little accessible to any feelings but whatarose immediately out of their own machinations.