CHAPTER XXII.
THE BIRD CAGED.
"Lay on him the curse of a withered heart, The curse of a sleepless eye; Till he wish and pray that his life would part, Nor yet find leave to die."--SCOTT.
Morning came. The squire sat in the breakfast parlor, impatientlywaiting for the coming of Gipsy. He waited in vain. The moments flew on;still she came not.
Losing patience at last, he caught the bell-rope and rang a furiouspeal. Five minutes after the black face and woolly head of Tottyappeared in the doorway.
"Totty, where's your young mistress?"
"Here!" answered the voice of Gipsy herself, as she stood, bright andsmiling, behind Totty.
Somehow, that smile alarmed the old man, and he began trembling for thedecision he had so anxiously been expecting.
"Well, come in. Clear out, Totty. Now, Gipsy, your decision."
"Now, Guardy, wait until after breakfast. How is any one to form anopinion on an empty stomach, I'd like to know? There, don't get into afidget about it, as I see you're going to do, because it's no use."
"But, Gipsy, tell me--will it be favorable?"
"That depends upon circumstances. If I have a good appetite for mybreakfast I may probably be in good-humor enough to say yes toeverything you propose; if not, I tremble for you, Guardy. Visions ofblunt pen-knives and bulletless pistols flash in 'awful array' before mymind's eye. Shall I ring the bell for Aunty Gower?"
"I suppose so," growled the old man; "you are as contrary as Balaam'sass."
"Guardy, look out! Don't compare me to any of your ancestors."
At this moment Mrs. Gower entered, followed by Lizzie, now an invalid,wrapped up in numberless shawls, until she resembled a mummy.
The squire had informed them both, the night before, how matters stood;and they glanced anxiously at Gipsy, as they entered, to read, ifpossible, her decision in her countenance. Nothing could they guess fromthat little dark, sparkling face, as vivacious and merry as ever.
When breakfast was over Mrs. Gower and Mrs. Oranmore quitted the room,leaving Gipsy alone with the squire.
"Now, Gipsy, now," he exclaimed, impatiently.
"Guardy," said Gipsy, earnestly, "all last night I lay awake, trying tofind out where my path of duty lay; and, Guardy, I have come to theconclusion that I cannot add to your sin, if you have committed one, bya still greater crime. I cannot perjure myself, before God's holy altar,even to save you. Guardy, I always loathed and detested this man--thisDr. Wiseman; and now I would sooner die by slow torture than be hiswife. Your threat of suicide I know you will not fulfill--'twas but idlewords. But even had you been serious, it would be all the same; forsooner than marry that man I would plunge a dagger into my own heartand let out my life's blood. I do not speak hastily, for I have donethat which I seldom do--thought before I spoke. If we really, as yousay, become poor, I am willing to leave my wild, free life, my horses,hounds, and the 'merry greenwood,' to become a toiling kitchen browniefor your sake. Do not interrupt me, Guardy; nothing you can say canchange my purpose. I am not ungrateful, but I cannot commit a crime inthe face of high heaven, even for the sake of those I love best. Tell mydecision to Dr. Wiseman. And now, Guardy, this subject must be foreverdropped between us, for you have heard my ultimatum."
And without waiting for the words that were ready to burst forth, shearose, bent her graceful little head, and walked out of the room.
As she went up-stairs, on her way to her own room, she passed Lizzie'schamber. Mrs. Oranmore caught sight of her through the half-opened door,and called her.
"Gipsy, my love, come in here."
Gipsy went in. It was a pleasant, cheerful room, with bright pictures onthe walls, and rich crimson damask hangings in the window. LizzieOranmore, as she lies on her lounge, enveloped in a large, soft shawl,is not much like the Lizzie, the bright little coquette, we once knew. Apale, faded creature she is now, with sallow cheeks, and thin, pinchedface.
"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Oranmore, anxiously, "papa has mentioned thisshocking affair to me. What has been your answer to Dr. Wiseman'sproposal?"
"Oh, aunty, what could it be but _no_? You didn't suppose I'd marry thatugly old daddy-long-legs, did you? Why, aunty, when I get married--whichI never will if I can help it--for I would be ever free--it must be toa lord, duke, or a Sir Harry, or something above the common. Just fancysuch a little bit of a thing like me being tied for life to a detestableold Bluebeard like Spider. Not I, indeed!" said the elf, as she dancedaround the room and gayly sang:
"An old man, an old man, will never do for me, For May and December can never agree."
"But Gipsy, my dear, do you not know that we are to be turned out, ifyou refuse?" said Lizzie, in blank dismay.
"Well, let us be turned out, then. I will be turned out, but I won'tmarry that old death's-head. I'm young and smart, and able to earn myown living, thank goodness!"
"Oh, ungrateful girl, will you see me die? For, Gipsy, if I am deprivednow, in my illness, of the comforts to which I have always beenaccustomed, I shall die."
"Oh, no, you won't, aunty. I don't think that things are as bad asGuardy makes them appear; and, even if they were, Dr. Wiseman, oldwretch as he is, would let you remain."
"No, he would not, child; you don't know the revengeful disposition ofthat man. Oh, Gipsy, by the memory of all we have done for you, Ibeseech you to consent!"
"Aunty, aunty, I cannot; it is too dreadful even to think about. Oh,aunty, I cannot tell you how I loathe, abhor, and detest that hideousold sinner!"
"Gipsy, that is wrong--that is sinful. Dr. Wiseman is a highlyrespectable gentleman--rather old for you, it is true--but of whatdifference is a few years? He is rich, and loves you well enough togratify your every wish. What more would you have?"
"_Happiness_, aunty. I should be utterly miserable with him."
"Nonsense, child, you only think so. It is not as if you were older, andloved somebody else. People often marry those they don't care about, andgrow quite fond of them after a time. Now, I shouldn't be surprised ifyou grew quite fond of Dr. Wiseman by and by."
Gipsy laughed her own merry laugh again as she heard Lizzie's words.
"Oh, Gipsy, you thoughtless creature! is this your answer to mypetition?" said Lizzie, putting her handkerchief to her eyes. "Leave me,then. I will not long survive your ingratitude; but, mark me, your namewill become a by-word, far and near, and descend to posterity brandedwith the disgrace of your ungrateful conduct. Go--leave me! Why shouldyou stay to witness the misery you have caused?"
Poor Gipsy! how these reproaches stung her. She started to her feet, andbegan pacing the floor rapidly, crying wildly:
"Oh, Heaven help me! I know not what to do! I wish I were dead, soonerthan be branded thus as an ingrate!"
Lizzie's sobs alone broke the stillness of the room. At last, unable toendure them longer, she rushed out and sought refuge in her own chamber.As she entered she saw Mrs. Gower seated by the window--a look oftrouble and sadness on her usually happy, good-natured face.
"Oh! aunty, what _shall_ I do? Oh! aunty, I am going crazy, I think!"cried Gipsy, distressedly, half maddened by the sight of Lizzie's tears.
"My dear, it is very plain what you must do. You must marry Dr.Wiseman," said Mrs. Gower, gravely.
"Oh! aunty, have you turned against me, too? Then I have no friend inthe wide world! Oh! I wish--I _wish_ I had never been born!"
"My love, don't talk in that way; it is not only very foolish, but verysinful. Dr. Wiseman is certainly not the man I would wish to see youmarried to; but, you perceive, there is no alternative. Gipsy, I amgetting old, so is the squire; Mrs. Oranmore is ill, and I do not thinkshe will live long. Will you, therefore, allow the old man andwoman--who love you above all human beings--and a poor, weak invalid, tobe turned upon the charity of the cold world to die? Gipsy, you know ifwe could save you from misery, we would coin our very hearts' blood todo it."
"And, oh, aunt! could there be greater misery for me than
that to whichyou are urging me?"
"You talk like the thoughtless girl you are, Gipsy. How often, forwealth or social position merely, or to raise their friends from want,do young girls marry old men! Yet, _you_ refuse to save us from worsethan want, from disgrace and death--yes, _death_! I know what I amsaying, Gipsy--you obstinately refuse. Gipsy, my child, for my sake donot become such a monster of ingratitude, but consent."
"Oh, aunty! leave me. I feel as if I were going mad! Every one in theworld seems to have turned against me--even _you_! Oh, aunty, dear, goodaunty! don't talk to me any more; my very brain seems on fire."
"Yes; your cheeks are burning, and your eyes are like fire--you are illand feverish, my poor little fairy. Lie down, and let me bathe yourhead."
"No, no, aunty, don't mind. Oh! what matter is it whether I am ill ornot? If it wasn't for you, and Guardy, and all the rest, I feel as if Ishould like to lie down and die!"
"My own little darling, you must not talk of dying; every one hastrouble in this world, and you cannot expect to escape!"
"Yes; I know, I know! Hitherto, life has been to me a fairy dream; andnow this terrible awakening to reality! Life seemed to me one long,golden summer day; and now--and now----"
"You are excited, love; lie down, and try to sleep--you talk too much."
"Yes, I know; I always did talk too much; but I do not think I will evertalk much again. Oh, aunty! I have heard of the heart-ache, but I neverknew what it was before!"
"My love, you must not feel this so deeply. How wild your eyes are! andyour hands are burning hot! Do lie down, and try to rest."
"Rest! rest! Shall I ever find rest again?"
"Of course you will, my dear. Now what shall I tell the squire is yourdecision about this? I promised him to talk to you about it."
"Oh, aunty, don't--_don't_! Leave me alone, and let me think--I cannottalk to you now!"
"Shall I bring you up ice for your head, my dear?"
"No, no; you have already brought ice for my heart, aunty--that isenough."
"You talk wildly, love; I am afraid your mind is disordered."
"Don't mind my talk, dear aunty, I always was a crazy, elfishchangeling, without a heart, you know. Nobody minds what I say. Onlyleave me now; I will be better by and by."
With a sigh Mrs. Gower left the room. It was strange that, loving herpoor little fay as she did, she should urge her to this wretchedmarriage; but the squire had talked and persuaded her until he broughther to see the matter with his eyes. And poor Gipsy was left alone topace up and down the room like one deranged, wringing her hands, whileher cheeks and eyes burned with the fire of fever.
"Oh, if Archie would only come!" was the wild cry of her aching heart,as she walked restlessly to and fro.
But Archie was away; she knew not even his present address, and she wasleft to battle against the dark decree of fate alone.
"I will seek Dr. Wiseman; I will beg, I will implore him to spare me,and those who would have me make this fatal sacrifice. Surely his heartis not made of stone; he cannot resist my prayers!"
So, waiting in her room until she saw him ride up to the Hall, shedescended the stairs and entered the parlor, where he and the squire satin close conversation together, and formally desired the honor of aprivate interview.
He arose, and, bowing, followed her into the drawing-room. Motioning himto a seat she stood before him, her little form drawn up to its fullheight, her defiant, dark eyes fixed on his repulsive face withundisguised loathing.
"Dr. Wiseman," she began, "I have heard of this proposal which you havehonored me by making. Believe me, I fully appreciate the honor you havedone me"--and her beautiful lip curled scornfully--"even while I mustdecline it. A silly little girl like me is unworthy to be raised to thedignity of the wife of so distinguished a gentleman as Dr. Wiseman!"
The doctor acknowledged the compliment by a grave bow, while Gipsycontinued:
"My guardian has informed me that, unless I consent to this union, hewill lose Mount Sunset, be reduced to poverty, and, consequently, die,he says. You, it seems, will prevent this, if I marry you. Now, Dr.Wiseman, knowing this marriage is not agreeable to me, I feel that youwill withdraw your claim to my hand, and still prevent Guardy from beingreduced to poverty!"
"Miss Gower, I regret to say I cannot do so. Unless you become my wife,I shall be obliged to let the law take its course; and all that SquireErliston has told you will prove true."
"Dr. Wiseman, you will not be so cruel? I beg--I implore you to preventthis catastrophe!"
"I will, with pleasure, Miss Gower, if you will be my wife."
"That I can never be, Dr. Wiseman! I would not, to save my head from theblock, consent to such a thing! What in the name of heaven can make aman of _your_ age wish to marry a silly little thing like me?"
"_Love_, my pretty mountain sprite," replied the doctor, with a grimsmile--"_love_! Years do not freeze the blood, nor still the heart ofman!"
"Then, sir, if you love me, renounce all claim upon my hand, and save myguardian from impending ruin!"
"That I can never do!"
"Be it so, then, Dr. Wiseman. To you I will plead no more. Let us beturned out; I would die a death of lingering starvation sooner than wedwith a cold-blooded monster like you!" exclaimed Gipsy, her old fieryspirit flashing from her eyes and radiating her face.
"And will you see those you love die, too?"
"Yes, even so; sooner than realize the living tomb of a marriage withyou!"
"Ha! ha! ha! All very fine and affectionate, my dear; yet, marry me you_shall_!"
"Marry you? Not if I die for it!" flashed Gipsy, with blazing eyes.
"That we shall see presently. I think I have an argument in reservethat will bend your high spirit. You love Archie Rivers?"
"That is no business of yours, Dr. Wiseman!"
"No; no farther than that I am glad of it. Now, Gipsy Gower, I swear byall the heavens contain, unless you marry me, _he shall die on thescaffold_!"
"_What?_" gasped Gipsy, appalled by his low, fearful tone, even morethan by his words.
"I say there is but one alternative; marry me, or see him die on thescaffold!"
"Ha! ha! that's excellent. Are you going to hang him, Dr. Wiseman?"mocked Gipsy.
"Laugh, girl; but beware! It is in my power to bring his head to thehalter!"
"Where, if everybody had their dues, yours would have been long ago."
"Take care, madam; don't carry your taunts too far--even my forbearancehas its limits!"
"That's more than can be said of your manners!"
The doctor's sallow visage blanched with anger; but, subduing his wrath,he said:
"I can accuse him of the murder of young Henry Danvers, who was somysteriously killed. There is circumstantial evidence against him strongenough to convict him in any court of justice in the world!"
"Archie kill Danvers? Why, you horrid old monster, you! Ain't you afraidof the fate of Ananias and his better half, who never told half such alie in their lives?"
"Lie or not, girl, it can be proved that he killed him. Listen, now,"said the doctor, while his repulsive face lighted up with a look offiendish exultation. "Archibald Rivers loved _you_--that was plain toevery one. This Danvers came along and fell in love with you, too--that,likewise, can be duly proved. Your preference for the young sailor wasobservable from the first. Rivers was jealous, and I know many who canprove he often uttered threats of future vengeance against themidshipman. On the night of the _murder_, Archie was observed ridingfrom here, in a violent rage. Half an hour afterward the sailor went fora ride over the hills. I can _swear_ that Archie Rivers followed him. Iknow he was not at home until late. Most probably, therefore, hefollowed Danvers, and murdered him treacherously. Jealousy will make aman do almost anything. In a court of justice, many more things thanthis can be proved; and if he dies on the scaffold, his blood will beupon your head."
Gipsy stood listening to his terrible words with blanched face, lividlips, and horror-stricken
eyes. For a moment he thought she would faint.The very power of life seemed stricken from her heart; but, by apowerful effort, she aroused herself from the deadly faintness creepingover her, and exclaimed, in a voice low with unspeakable horror:
"Fiend--demon incarnate! would you perjure your own soul! Would youbecome the murderer of your own nephew?"
"Murderer, forsooth! Is that what you call legal justice?"
"It would not be legal justice! Doctor Wiseman, I tell you, if you sayArchie Rivers killed Danvers, you lie! Yes, meanest of vile wretches, Itell you, you lie!"
He leaped to his feet, glaring with rage, as though he would spring uponher, and rend her limb from limb. Before him she stood, her little formdrawn up to its full height, defiant and daring--her dark face glaringwith scorn and hatred. For a moment they stood thus--he quivering withimpotent rage--she, proud, defying, and fearless. Then, sinking intohis seat, he said, with stern calmness:
"No--I will restrain myself; but, daring girl, listen to me. As sure asyonder heaven is above us, if you refuse, so surely shall SquireErliston and all belonging to him be turned from their home--to die, ifthey will; and Archibald Rivers shall perish by the hand of the hangman,scorned and hated by all, and knowing that you, for whom he would havegiven his life, have brought him to the scaffold. Gipsy Gower, his bloodwill cry for vengeance from the earth against you!"
He ceased. There was a wild, thrilling, intense solemnity in his tone,that made the blood curdle. One look at his fiendish face would havemade you think Satan himself was before you.
And Gipsy! She had dropped, as if suddenly stricken by an unseen hand,to the floor; her face changed to the ghastly hue of death, the lightdying out in her eyes: her very life seemed passing away from the blue,quivering lips, from which no sound came; a thousand ages of sufferingseemed concentrated in that one single moment of intense anguish.
But no spark of pity entered the heart that exulted in her agony. No; ademoniacal joy flashed from his snake-like eyes as he beheld that free,wild, untamed spirit broken at last, and lying in anguish at his feet.
"This struggle is the last. Now she will yield," was his thought, as hewatched her.
"Gipsy!" he called.
She writhed at the sound of his voice.
"Gipsy!" he called again.
This time she looked up, lifting a face so like that of death that hestarted back involuntarily.
"What?" she asked, in a low, hollow voice of despair.
"Do you consent?"
She arose, and walked over until she stood before him. Appalled by herlook, he arose in alarm and drew back.
"Consent!" she repeated, fixing her wild eyes on his frightened face;"yes, I consent to the living death of a marriage with you. And, Dr.Wiseman, may my curse and the curse of Heaven cling to you like agarment of fire, now and forevermore, burning your miserable soul like aflame in this life, and consigning you to everlasting perdition in thenext! May every torture and suffering that man can know follow thewronged orphan's curse! In this life I will be your deadliest enemy, andin the next I will bear witness against you at the throne of God! Toyour very grave, and beyond, my undying hatred and revenge for the wrongyou have done me shall be yours; and now I wish you joy of your bride!"
She passed from the room like a spirit; and Dr. Wiseman, terrified andappalled, sank into a chair, with the vision of that death-like face,with its blazing eyes and wild, maniac words and wilder stare, hauntinghim until he shuddered with superstitious terror.
"What a wife I will have!" he muttered; "a perfect little fiend. MountSunset will be dearly enough purchased with that young tempest for itsmistress. The fiery spirit of the old Oranmores runs in herveins--that's certain. And now, as there is nothing like striking theiron while it's hot, I'll go and report my success to that old dotard,the squire, and have the wedding-day fixed as soon as possible."
Sharing Her Crime: A Novel Page 24
