by Fanny Burney
CHAPTER LXXXIV
Restless, again, was the night of Juliet; bewildered with varyingvisions of hope, of despair, of bliss, of horrour; now presenting a fairprospect that opened sweetly to her best affections; now shewing everyblossom blighted, by a dark, overwhelming storm.
To engage the good will of her new hostess, she bestowed upon her nearlyevery thing that she had worn upon entering the cottage. What she hadbeen seen and discovered in, could no longer serve any purpose ofconcealment; and all disguise was disgusting to her, if not induced bythe most imperious necessity. She clothed herself, therefore, from thefairy stores of her munificent old sylph; with whom her debts were somultiplied and so considerable, that she meant, at all events, to callupon her family for their disbursement.
The quietness of this residence, induced her to propose remaining here:and her new hostess, who was one of the many who, where interestpreaches passiveness, make it a point not to be troublesome, consented,without objection or enquiry.
Hence, again, she wrote to Gabriella, from whom she languished forintelligence.
In this perfect retirement, she passed her time in deep rumination; herthoughts for ever hovering around the Bishop, upon whose fate her owninvariably depended.
Her little apartment was close and hot; unshaded by blinds, unshelteredby shutters; she went forth, therefore, early every morning, to enjoyfresh air in the cool of a neighbouring wood, which, once havingentered, she knew not how to quit. Solitude there, had not the characterof seclusion; it bore not, as in her room, the air of banishment, if notof imprisonment; and the beautiful prospects around her, though hersole, were a never-failing source of recreation.
She permitted not, however, her love of the country to beguile her intodanger by the love of variety; she wandered not far from her newhabitation, in the vicinity of Milton-abbey; of which she never lostsight from distance, though frequently from intervening hills and trees.
But no answer arrived from Gabriella; and, in a few days, her own letterwas returned, with a line written by the post-man upon the cover, tosay, No. -- Frith-street, Soho, was empty.
New sorrow, now, and fearful distress assailed every feeling of Juliet:What could have occasioned this sudden measure? Whither was Gabriellagone? Might it be happiness?--or was it some new evil that had causedthis change of abode? The letter sent to Salisbury had never beenclaimed; nor did Juliet dare demand it: but Gabriella might, perhaps,have written her new plan by the address sent from the farm-house.
It was now that she blessed the munificent Sir Jaspar, to whose purseshe had immediate recourse for sending a man and horse to the cottage;with written instructions to enquire for a letter, concerning which shehad left directions with the good old cottager.
While, to wear away the hours devoted to anxious waiting, she wandered,as usual, in the view of Milton-abbey, from a rich valley, bounded byrising hills, whose circling slopes bore the form of undulating waves,she perceived, from a small distance, a horseman gallopping towards hercottage.
It could not already be her messenger. She felt uneasy, and, gliding tothe brow of an eminence, sat down upon the turf, as much as possible outof sight.
In a short time, she heard the quick pacing step of a man in haste. Shetried to place herself still more obscurely; but, by moving, caught theeye of the object she meant to avoid. He approached her rapidly, butwhen near enough to distinguish her, abruptly stopt, as if to recollecthimself; and Juliet, at the same moment that she was herself discerned,recognized Harleigh.
With difficulty restraining an exclamation, from surprize and painfulemotion, she looked round to discover if it would be possible to eludehim; but she could only walk towards Milton-abbey, in full view herselffrom that noble seat; or immediately face him by returning to her home.She stood still, therefore, though bending her eye to the ground; hurtand offended that, at such a juncture, Harleigh could break into herretreat; and grieved yet more deeply, that Harleigh could excite in hereven transitory displeasure.
Harleigh stept forward, but his voice, husky and nervous, soinarticulately pronounced something relative to a packet and a work-bag,that Juliet, losing her displeasure in a sudden hope of hearing somenews of her property, raised her head, with a look that demanded anexplanation.
Still he strove in vain for sufficient calmness to speak distinctly; yethis answer gave Juliet to understand, that he had conveyed her packetand work-bag to the cottage which he had been told she inhabited.
'And where, Sir,' cried Juliet, surprized into vivacity and pleasure atthis unexpected hearing, 'how, and where have they been recovered?'
Harleigh now blushed himself, at the blushes which he knew he must raisein her cheeks, as he replied, that the packet and the work-bag which hehad brought, had been dropt in his room at the inn.
Crimson is pale to the depth of red with which shame and confusion dyedher face; while Harleigh, recovering his voice, sought to relieve herembarrassment, by more rapidly continuing his discourse.
'I should sooner have endeavoured to deliver these articles, but that Iknew not, till yesterday, that they had fallen to my care. I had leftthe inn, to follow, and seek Sir Jaspar Herrington; but having variouspapers and letters in my room, that I had not had time to collect, Iobtained leave to take away the key with me, of the landlady, to whom Iwas well known,--for there, or in that neighbourhood, an irresistibleinterest has kept me, from the time that, through my groom, I hadheard ... who had been seen ... at Bagshot ... entering the Salisburystage!--Yesterday, when I returned, to the inn, I first perceived theseparcels.'--
He stopt; but Juliet could not speak, could not look up; could pronounceno apology, nor enter into any explanation.
'Sir Jaspar Herrington,' he continued, 'whom I have just left, is stillat Salisbury; but setting out for town. From him I learnt your immediatedirection; but not knowing what might be the value of the packets,nor,--' He hesitated a moment, and then, with a sigh, added, 'nor how todirect them! I determined upon venturing to deliver them myself.'
The tingling cheeks of Juliet, at the inference of the words 'nor how todirect them,' seemed on fire; but she was totally silent.
'I have carefully sealed them,' he resumed, 'and I have delivered themto the woman of the cottage, for the young lady who at present sleepsthere; and, hearing that that young lady was walking in theneighbourhood, I ventured to follow, with this intelligence.'
'You are very good, Sir,' Juliet strove to answer; but her lips wereparched, and no words could find their way.
This excess of timidity brought back the courage of Harleigh, who,advancing a step or two, said, 'You will not be angry that Sir Jaspar,moved by my uncontrollable urgency, has had the charity to reveal to mesome particulars....'
'Oh! make way for me to pass, Mr Harleigh!' now interrupted Juliet,forcing her voice, and striving to force a passage.
'Did you wish, then,' said Harleigh, in a tone the most melancholy,'could you wish that I should still languish in harrowing suspense? orburst with ignorance?'
'Oh no!' cried she, raising her eyes, which glistened with tears, 'no!If the mystery that so long has hung about me, by occupying your ...'She sought a word, and then continued: 'your imagination ... impedes theoblivion that ought to bury me and my misfortunes from furtherthought,--then, indeed, I ought to be thankful to Sir Jaspar,--and I amthankful that he has let you know, ... that he has informed you....'
She could not finish the sentence.
'Yes!' cried Harleigh with energy, 'I have heard the dreadful history ofyour wrongs! of the violences by which you have suffered, of the inhumanattempts upon your liberty, your safety, your honour!--But since youhave thus happily--'
'Mr Harleigh,' cried Juliet, struggling to recover her presence of mind,'I need no longer, I trust, now, beg your absence! All I can have to sayyou must, now, understand ... anticipate ... acknowledge ... since youare aware....'
'Ah!' cried Harleigh, in a tone not quite free from reproach;--'had youbut, from the beginning, condescended to inform
me of your situation! asituation so impossible to divine! so replete with horrour, with injury,with unheard of suffering,--had you, from the first, instead ofavoiding, flying me, deigned to treat me with some trust--'
'Mr Harleigh,' said Juliet, with eagerness, 'whatever may be yoursurprize that such should be my situation, ... my fate, ... you can, atleast, require, now, no explanation why I have fled you!'
The word why, vibrated instantly to the heart of Harleigh, where itcondolingly said: It was duty, then, not averseness, not indifference,that urged that flight! she had not fled, had she not deemed herselfengaged!--Juliet, who had hastily uttered the why in the solicitude ofself-vindication, shewed, by a change of complexion, the moment that ithad passed her lips, that she felt the possible inference of which itwas susceptible, and dropt her eyes; fearful to risk discovering theconsciousness that they might indicate.
Harleigh, however, now brightened, glowed with revived sensations: 'Ah!be not,' he cried, 'be not the victim of your scruples! let not your toodelicate fears of doing wrong by others, urge you to inflict wrong,irreparable wrong, upon yourself! Your real dangers are past; none nowremain but from a fancied,--pardon, pardon me!--a fancied refinement,unfounded in reason, or in right! Suffer, therefore--'
'Hold, Sir, hold!--we must not even talk upon this subject:--nor, atthis moment, upon any other!--'
Her brow shewed rising displeasure; but Harleigh was intractable.'Pronounce not,' he cried, 'an interdiction! I make no claim, no plea,no condition. I will speak wholly as an impartial man;--and have you notcondescended to tell me, that as a friend, if to that title,--solimited, yet so honourable,--I would confine myself,--you would notdisdain to consult with me? As such, I am now here. I feel, I respect, Irevere the delicacy of all your ideas, the perfection of your conduct! Iwill put, therefore, aside, all that relates not simply to yourself, andto your position; I will speak to you, for the moment, and in hisabsence,--as--as Lord Melbury!--as your brother!--'
An involuntary smile here unbent the knitting brow of Juliet, who couldnot feel offended, or sorry, that Sir Jaspar had revealed the history ofher birth.
She desired, nevertheless, to pass, refusing every species ofdiscussion.
'If you will not answer, will not speak,' cried Harleigh, stillobstructing her way, 'fear not, at least, to hear! Are you not atliberty? Is not your persecutor gone?--Can he ever return?'
'Gone?' repeated Juliet.
'I have myself seen him embark! I rode after his chaise, I pursued it tothe sea-coast, I saw him under sail.'
Juliet, with uplifted eyes, clasped her hands, from an emotion ofungovernable joy; which a thousand blushes betrayed her vain strugglesto suppress.
Harleigh observed not this unmoved: 'Ah, Madam!' he cried, 'since, thuscritically, you have escaped;--since, thus happily, you arereleased;--since no church ritual has ever sanctioned the sacrilegiousviolence--'
'Spare all ineffectual controversy!' cried Juliet, assuming an air andtone of composure, with which her quick heaving bosom was ill inharmony; 'I can neither talk nor listen upon this subject. You know,now, my story: dread and atrocious as is my connection, my faith to itmust be unbroken, till I have seen the Bishop! and till the iniquity ofmy chains may be proved, and my restoration to my violated freedom maybe legalized. Do not look so shocked; so angry, must I say?--Remember,that a point of conscience can be settled only internally! I will speak,therefore, but one word more; and I must hear no reply: little as I feelto belong to the person in question, I cannot consider myself to be myown! 'Tis a tie which, whether or not it binds me to him, excludes me,while thus circumstanced, from all others!--This, Sir, is my lastword!--Adieu!'
Harleigh, though looking nearly petrified, still stood before her. 'Youfly us, then,' he cried, resentfully, though mournfully, 'both alike?You put us upon a par?--'
'No!' answered Juliet, hastily, 'him I fly because I hate;--You--'
The deep scarlet which mounted into her whole face finished thesentence; in defiance of a sudden and abrupt breaking off, that meantand hoped to snatch the unguarded phrase from comprehension.
But Harleigh felt its fullest contrast; his hopes, his wishes, his wholesoul completed it by You, because I love!--not that he could persuadehimself that Juliet would have used those words; he knew the contrary;knew that she would sooner thus situated expire; but such, he felt, wasthe impulse of her thoughts; such the consciousness that broke off herspeech.
He durst not venture at any acknowledgement; but, once appeased in hisdoubts, and satisfied in his feelings, he respected her opinions, and,yielding to her increased, yet speechless eagerness to be gone, hesilently, but with eyes of expressive tenderness, ceased to obstruct herpassage.
Utterly confounded herself, at the half-pronounced thought, thusinadvertently surprised from her, and thus palpably seized andinterpreted, she strove to devize some term that might obviate dangerousconsequences; but she felt her cheeks so hot, so cold, and again so hot,that she durst not trust her face to his observation; and, accepting theopening which he made for her, she was returning to her cottage,tortured,--and yet soothed,--by indescribable emotions; when anenergetic cry of 'Ellis!--Harleigh!--Ellis!' made her raise her eyes tothe adjacent hill, and perceive Elinor.
