CHAPTER XLIX.
MY LADY BIDDY AND I MEET AGAIN, TO OUR JOYFUL CONTENTMENT.
About sunset (as the Inga had promised) we came to the place where histribe were encamped, which was amidst the mountains on the further sideof the river, approached by a very intricate winding way, and soencompassed with sharp, high rocks that no man not acquainted with thoseparts might find his way thither, though he searched a lifetime.
Coming through this tortuous defile to an open space, the Inga, being inadvance some paces, suddenly came to a halt, and, turning to me, pointedin silence to a little rising hillock not far distant, where stood myLady Biddy, shielding her eyes from the rays of the setting sun with herhand, and scanning the valley below.
For a moment my heart stood still, feeling as if it must burst with thegreat joy that flooded it. I think I must have cried aloud in mygladness (though I know not what I did), for she turned that moment likea startled doe, and came running down the hillock with her handsstretched out. So I flew to her, and we stood clasping each other'shands and gazing into each other's faces, she with a look of gladness inher face, yet a sad reproach in her eyes, as though she would ask me whyI had been so long a-coming. But neither of us could say one word; sowith a quick impulse, as if our two minds were but one, our silent,trembling lips drew together, and we exchanged the first kiss they hadknown since we were boy and girl.
This kiss was none but such as a brother and a sister might have shared;'twas not the passionate overthrow of modesty which covers a maiden'sface with blushes, and makes a man's limbs tremble under him; 'twassimply the overflowing of a sweet, innocent affection that can find noother mode of expression. After that kiss we looked in each other'shearts with open, unwinking eyes, and hands still clasped.
"Benet," says she faintly, "how long we have been sundered!"
"Have we?" says I, leading her to a little boulder where there was roomfor us to sit together.
"Why, an age!" says she, with a return of her usual merry laugh. "Haveyou not missed me?"
"Now I come to think of it," says I, "there has been trouble in myheart; but my joy is so great to be with you again that the past seemsnaught but an evil dream. And 'twas no more than a dream, the worst partof it; for one while I imagined you lost beyond recovery, and anotherwhile I imagined you dead and eat up by tigers; but this is real, and noidle fancy," holding her sweet fair hand up to look at it and make sureI was not stark mad. "But, Lord," says I, dropping my voice for pity,"'tis much thinner than it was."
"Ay, I shall be a sad old witch to look at ere long," says says she;"'tis well I have no glass to look into."
"Trust me for a faithful mirror," says I, "when I tell you that younever looked so sweet as now."
Indeed, I said no more than the truth, as far as my judgment went inthis matter; yet I saw that her face was not so round as of old, and herskin was rarely pale, so that her eyes looked larger, darker, and morelustrous thereby. And thinking how she must have suffered by fright,etc., to have lost flesh and blood in this sort, I was greatly movedwith compassion.
"A joyful heart makes a bright face," says she; "but what would it havebeen like had the Indians come back without you? What would have becomeof me?"
"Nay," says I, "These Ingas would never have harmed you."
"Is that all?" says she. "Do you think I hold your affection so lightlythat I could have lived to forget you?"
Thus might our conversation have run on till she had expressed all thatit was in her simple, affectionate heart to say to her kinsman, but thatI became silent. For the pressure of her hand and kind looks did stir mysmouldering passion and fan it to a flame, so I had much ado to restrainmyself from flinging my arms about her waist and drawing her to mybreast.
All the love that a warm-souled woman has for a dear brother she wishedto bestow on me, but I had more than innocent love in my heart. Still, Ihad the sense to see that my own happiness, as well as hers, would beblighted if I let my mad desire be known, and I had also the strength tocontrol it (God be praised!). Still, I dared not trust myself too far,and counted it best to let go her hand, and talk of other matters. Sogetting up, as if I would look about me, I begged her to give me anaccount of all that had happened to her. Whereupon she rose also, andslipping her hand through my arm walked beside me up and down thatpleasant spot, in the waning twilight, telling me of her adventures; howLewis de Pino had told her I was gone on with the first part of thetrain, seeming in an ill-humor, which appeared less remarkable to LadyBiddy because I had been particularly dull the day before; how, as theywent on and came not up with me, she grew alarmed, yet had no means ofdiscovering whether Lewis de Pino had told the truth or not, and so offorce went on, yet with a sinking heart; how, being brought to a standin that narrow road in the mountain-side by the bridge being gone, theywere attacked with arrows from above in such sort that the arquebusiersonly succeeded in wounding one of the Ingas, and were themselves shotdown one after the other till not a man was left, even to the Indianstripling who served De Pino for a page; how the Indians then comingdown from above, she recognized amongst them that poor slave whom shebegged De Pino to take from her yoke; and how finally the deadPortugals, being rifled of their arms, were cast down over theprecipice, the slaves liberated from their bonds, and they, with my lady(who from first to last had been treated with the utmost respect andcourtesy), led back along the mountain-path till they came to a narrowway, by which they descended to the river. Also she told me how withsigns she had given the Inga girl to understand her trouble about me,which she (being of a quick wit) readily comprehended, and, bringingforward her husband with further signs, bade her know that I should besought and brought safely to her, etc. All these particulars agreed sowell with what Matthew had suggested, and I have set down, that I neednot dwell upon them, but may get on at once with fresh matter.
The light faded away over the western mountains till there was naughtbut a faint glow beyond the dark peaks, and still we strolled up anddown, discoursing to one another of our various fortunes; and soforgetful was I of my late fatigue in the delight of these moments thatit did not enter my head for some time that my lady might be weary; butsuddenly bethinking myself of my selfish disregard to her comfort Ibegged to know if she was not weary.
"No," says she gayly; "'tis a relief to talk again, for I was gettingheart-sick of silence. But you, Benet?--men do not care to chatter as wewomen do."
"Nay," says I, "you may be sure that I shall never weary of listeningtill you weary of talking." And then I ventured to tell her that Icounted this the very happiest moment of my life. Upon which she gave myarm a little kindly pressure with her hand, which sent a thrill ofinexpossible delight through every nerve of my being.
And so she began to gossip again as merrily as before, which was a greatcomfort to me, for I could have found never a word to say at this timefor the tumult of joy in my heart. I would have lingered there tillmorning broke, feeling her hand so lightly lying on my arm, andlistening to the sweet purling of her gentle voice; but presently spyingMatthew, who had drawn up at a respectful distance, and stood therehumming and coughing as if he would speak with me, but dared notapproach, I bethought me that I had not yet introduced the faithfulfellow to Lady Biddy. So I called to him, and when he drew near,scraping and shuffling with his hat in hand, I said:
"This is Lady Biddy Fane, Matthew."
"Your ladyship's humble and obedient servant," says he, with anotherscrape.
"My cousin has been talking about you, Matthew," says she, offering herhand to him; "and I hope you will forgive me being so tardy inacknowledging my gratitude, for in helping him you have befriended me."
"As for your ladyship's gratitude," says he, "I hope I may yet laybetter claim to it; and as for tardy acknowledgment, I count you werebetter occupied; while as for the rest," adds he, "I wish you joy ofyour sweetheart."
At these words all the blood rushed into my face, and happy was I therewas little light to reveal my confusion to Lady Biddy.
"How?" cries I angrily; "have I ever spoken so disrespectfully of mylady that you should take the liberty to speak of me in this relation?"
"Lord love you, master! no," says he; "but 'twas because you alwaysspoke of her ladyship with such mighty respect that I reckoned she mustbe something more to you than a cousin. I meant no offence; and,indeed," adds he, with ready wit, "'twould have been but a meancompliment to her ladyship's charms or your understanding if I had setyou down for aught but her admirer."
"Ay," says Lady Biddy, laughing, "and so should I." But I observed thatshe was a little more reserved towards me after this, as if sheperceived the imprudence of giving expression to those feelings ofsimple, innocent affection which I might take for an acknowledgment ofwarmer sentiment.
The Admirable Lady Biddy Fane Page 49
