Sharing Her Crime: A Novel

by May Agnes Fleming

  CHAPTER VII.

  THE CYPRESS WREATH.

  "Bride, upon thy marriage-day, Did the fluttering of thy breath Speak of joy or woe beneath? And the hue that went and came On thy cheek like waving flame, Flowed that crimson from the unrest, Or the gladness of thy breast?"--HEMANS.

  "Squire Erliston, can I have a few moments' private conversation withyou this morning?" said Oranmore, as he sought the squire, whom Mrs.Gower was just helping to ensconce in his easy-chair.

  "Certainly, certainly, my boy. Mrs. Gower, bring the rest of the pillowsby and by. 'Time for everything,' as Solomon says. Clear out now, ma'am,while I attend to this young man's case."

  Barry Oranmore stood in the middle of the floor, resting one handlightly on the back of a chair. Squire Erliston, propped up in aneasy-chair with pillows and cushions, and wearing an unusually benignexpression of countenance--caused, probably, by Miss Aurora'sextraordinary quietness on that morning.

  "You have doubtless perceived, sir, my attentions to your daughter,"went on the young man, in a tone that was almost careless. "Miss Lizzie,I am happy to say, returns my affection; and, in short, sir, I haveasked this interview to solicit your daughter's hand."

  He bowed slightly, and stood awaiting a reply. The squire jumped fromhis seat, kicked one pillow to the other end of the room, waved anotherabove his head, and shouted:

  "Bless my soul! it's just what I wanted! Give us your hand, my dear boy.Solicit her hand! Take it, take it, with all my heart. If she had adozen of hands, you should have them all."

  "I thank you sincerely, Squire Erliston. Believe me, it only needed yourconsent to our union to fill my cup of _happiness_ to the brim."

  His voice was low--almost scornful; and the emphasis upon "happiness"was bitter, indeed. But the squire, in his delight, neither heeded nornoticed.

  "The wedding must come off immediately, my dear fellow. We'll have arousing one, and no mistake. I was afraid Liz might run off with somepenniless scamp, as Esther did; but now it's all right. Yes, the soonerthe wedding comes off the better. 'He who giveth not his daughter inmarriage, doeth well; but he who giveth her doeth better,' as Solomonought to know, seeing he had some thousands of 'em. Be off now, andarrange with Lizzie the day for the wedding, while I take a sleep. Whenit's all over, wake me up. There, go! Mrs. Gower! hallo! Mrs. Gower, Isay! come here with the pillows."

  Oranmore hurried out, while Mrs. Gower hurried in--he to tell Lizzie ofthe success of his mission, and she to prepare her master for the armsof Morpheus.

  That day fortnight was fixed upon as their marriage-day. The Bishop ofP---- was to visit St. Mark's, and during his advent in the village thenuptials were to be celebrated.

  And such a busy place as Sunset Hall became after the important fact wasannounced! Poor Mrs. Gower lost, perceptibly, fifty pounds of flesh,with running in and out, and up and down stairs. Old carpets and oldservants were turned out, and new curtains and French cooks turned in.Carpets and custards, and ice-creams and Aurora's screams, and millinersand feathers, and flowers and flounces, and jellies and jams, andupholstery reigned supreme, until the squire swore by all the "fiends inflames" that it was worse than pandemonium, and rushed from the place indespair to seek refuge with Giles Fox, and smoke his pipe in peace atthe "Eagle."

  Barry Oranmore, finding his bride so busily engaged superintendingjewels, and satins, and laces, as to be able to dispense with hisservices, mounted his horse each day, and seldom returned before night.And, amid all the bustle and confusion, no one noticed that he grewthinner and paler day after day; nor the deep melancholy filling hisdark eyes; nor the bitter, self-scorning look his proud, handsome faceever wore. They knew not how he paced up and down his room, night afternight, trying to still the sound of _one_ voice that was ever mournfullycalling his name. They knew not that when he quitted thebrilliantly-lighted rooms, and plunged into the deep, dark forest, itwas to shut out the sight of a sad, reproachful face, that ever hauntedhim, day and night.

  Lizzie was in her glory, flitting about like a bird from morning tillnight. Such wonderful things as she had manufactured out of white satinand Mechlin lace, and such confusion as she caused--flying through thehouse, boxing the servants' ears, and lecturing Mrs. Gower and shakingAurora--who had leave now to yell to her heart's content--and turningeverything topsy-turvy, until the squire brought down his fist with athump, and declared that though Solomon had said there was a time foreverything, neither Solomon, nor any other man, could ever convince himthat there was a time allotted for such a racket and rumpus as _that_.

  But out of chaos, long ago, was brought forth order; and the "eve beforethe bridal" everything in Sunset Hall was restored to peace andquietness once more. The rooms were perfectly dazzling with the glitterof new furniture and the blaze of myriads of lusters. And such a crowdas on the wedding night filled those splendid rooms! There was Mrs.Gower, magnificent in brown velvet, preserved for state occasions likethe present, with such a miraculous combination of white ribbons andlace on her head. There was the squire, edifying the public generallywith copious extracts from Solomon and some that were _not_ fromSolomon. There was Mrs. Oranmore, grim and gray as ever, moving like theguilty shadow of a lost soul, through those gorgeous rooms and thatglittering crowd, with the miserable feeling at her heart, that her onlyson was to be offered that night a sacrifice on the altar of her prideand ambition. There was Doctor Wiseman, all legs and arms, as usual,slinking among the guests. There was the bishop, a fat, pompous,oily-looking gentleman, in full canonicals, waiting to tie the Gordianknot.

  There was a bustle near the door, a swaying to and fro of the crowd, andthe bridal party entered. Every voice was instantaneously hushed, everyeye was fixed upon them. How beautiful the bride looked, with herelegant robes and gleaming jewels, her downcast eyes, and rose-flushedcheeks, and half-smiling lips. The eyes of all the gentlemen presentwere fixed wistfully upon her. And the eyes of the ladies wandered tothe bridegroom, with something very like a feeling of awe, as they sawhow pale and cold he was looking--how different from any bridegroom theyhad ever seen before. Were his thoughts wandering to _another_ bridal,in a land beyond the sea, with one for whose blue eyes and golden hairhe would _then_ willingly have surrendered fame, and wealth, andambition? And now, she who had left friends, and home, and country forhis sake, was deserted for another. Yet still that unknown, pennilessgirl was dearer than all the world beside. Well might he look and feelunlike a bridegroom, with but one image filling his heart, but one nameon his lips--"_Eveleen! Eveleen!_"

  But no one there could read the heart, throbbing so tumultuously beneaththat cold, proud exterior. They passed through the long rooms--thebishop stood before them--the service began. To _him_ it seemed like theservice for the dead--to _her_ it was the most delightful thing in theworld. There was fluttering of fans, flirting of perfumed handkerchiefs,smiling lips and eyes, and

  "With decorum all things carried; Miss smiled, and blushed, and then was--married."

  The ceremony was over, and Lizzie Erliston was Lizzie Erliston nolonger.

  But just at that moment, when the crowd around were about to pressforward to offer their congratulations, a loud, ringing footstep, thatsounded as though shod with steel, was heard approaching. A moment more,and an uninvited guest stood among them. The tall, thin, sharp, angularfigure of a woman past middle age, with a grim, weird, old-maidenishface; a stiff, rustling dress of iron-gray; a black net cap over hergrizzled locks, and a tramp like that of a dragoon, completed theexternal of this rather unprepossessing figure.

  All fell back and made way for her, while a murmur: "Miss Hagar! Whatbrings Miss Hagar here?" passed through the room.

  She advanced straight to where Lizzie stood, leaning proudly and fondlyon the arm of Oranmore, and drawing forth a wreath of mingled cypressand dismal yew, laid it amid the orange blossoms on the head of thebride.

  With a shriek of superstitious terror, Lizzie tore the ominous wreathfrom her head, and flung it on the flo
or. Heeding not the action, thewoman raised her long, gaunt, fleshless arm like an inspired sibyl, andchanted in a voice so wild and dreary, that every heart stood still:

  "Oh, bride! woe to thee! Ere the spring leaves deck the tree, Those locks you now with jewels twine Shall wear this cypress wreath of mine."

  Then striding through the awe-struck crowd, she passed out anddisappeared.

  Faint and sick with terror, Lizzie hid her face in the arm thatsupported her. A moment's silence ensued, broken by the squire, who camestamping along, exclaiming:

  "Hallo! what's the matter here! Have either of these good peoplerepented of their bargain, already. 'Better late than never,' as Solomonsays."

  "It was only my sister Hagar, who came here to predict fortunes, asusual," said Doctor Wiseman, with an uneasy attempt at a laugh, "andsucceeded in scaring Miss Lizzie--Mrs. Oranmore, I mean--half out of herwits."

  "Pooh! pooh! is that all. Liz, don't be such a little fool! There goesthe music. Let every youngster be off, on penalty of death, to thedancing-room. 'Time to dance,' as Solomon says, and if it's not atweddings, I'd like to know when it is. Clear!"

  Thus adjured, with a great deal of laughing and chatting, the companydispersed. The folding-doors flew open, and merry feet were soontripping gayly to the music, and flirting, and laughing, andlove-making, and ice-creams were soon at their height, and Lizzie, asshe floated airily around the room in the waltz, soon forgot all aboutMiss Hagar's prediction. Barry Oranmore, by an effort, shook off hisgloom, and laughed with the merriest, and waltzed with his bride, andthe pretty bride-maids; and all the time his heart was far away withthat haunting shape that had stood by his side all the night.

  * * * * *

  A month had passed away. Their bridal tour had been a short one, and thenewly wedded pair had returned to Sunset Hall. And Lizzie was at lastbeginning to open her eyes, and wonder what ailed her husband. Sosilent, so absent, so restless, growing more and more so day after day.His long rides over the hills were now taken alone; and he would onlyreturn to lie on a lounge in some darkened room, with his face hiddenfrom view by his long, neglected locks. At first she pouted a little atthis; but seeing it produced no effect, she at last concluded to let himhave his own way, and she would take hers. So evening after evening,while he lay alone, so still and motionless, in his darkened chamber,Lizzie frequented parties and _soirees_, giving plausible excuses forher husband's absence, and was the gayest of the gay.

  One morning, returning with the gray dawn, from an unusually brilliant_soiree_, she inquired for her husband, and learned that, half an hourbefore, he had called for his horse and ridden off. This did notsurprise her, for it had often happened so before; so, without givingthe matter a second thought, she flung herself on her bed, and fell fastasleep.

  Half an hour after the sound of many feet, and a confused murmur of manyvoices below, fell on her ear.

  Wondering what it could mean, she raised herself on her elbow tolisten, when the door was burst open; and Totty, gray, gasping,horror-stricken, stood before her.

  "Totty, what in the name of heaven is the matter!" exclaimed Lizzie, insurprise and alarm.

  "Oh, missus! Oh, missus!" were the only words the frightened negresscould utter.

  "Merciful heaven! what has happened?" exclaimed Lizzie, springing to herfeet, in undefined terror. "Totty, Totty, tell me, or I shall go andsee."

  "Oh, Miss Lizzie! Oh, Miss Lizzie!" cried the girl, falling on herknees, "for de dear Lord's sake, don't go. Oh, Miss Lizzie, it's toodrefful to tell! It would kill you!"

  With a wild cry, Lizzie snatched her robe from the clinging hands thatheld it, and fled from the room down the long staircase. There was acrowd round the parlor door; all the servants were collected there, andinside she could see many of the neighbors gathered. She strove to forceher way through the throng of appalled servants, who mechanically madeway for her to pass.

  "Keep her back--keep her back, I tell you," cried the voice of Dr.Wiseman, "would you kill her?"

  A score of hands were extended to keep her back, but they were too late.She had entered, and a sight met her eyes that sent the blood curdlingwith horror to her heart. A wild, terrific shriek rang through thehouse, as she threw up both arms and fell, in strong convulsions, on thefloor.