by Walter Scott
CHAPTER FIFTEENTH.
Whence, and what art you? Milton.
After exhausting a sleepless night in meditating on the intelligence Ihad received, I was at first inclined to think that I ought, as speedilyas possible, to return to London, and by my open appearance repel thecalumny which had been spread against me. But I hesitated to take thiscourse on recollection of my father's disposition, singularly absolute inhis decisions as to all that concerned his family. He was most able,certainly, from experience, to direct what I ought to do, and from hisacquaintance with the most distinguished Whigs then in power, hadinfluence enough to obtain a hearing for my cause. So, upon the whole, Ijudged it most safe to state my whole story in the shape of a narrative,addressed to my father; and as the ordinary opportunities of intercoursebetween the Hall and the post-town recurred rarely, I determined to rideto the town, which was about ten miles' distance, and deposit my letterin the post-office with my own hands.
Indeed I began to think it strange that though several weeks had elapsedsince my departure from home, I had received no letter, either from myfather or Owen, although Rashleigh had written to Sir Hildebrand of hissafe arrival in London, and of the kind reception he had met with fromhis uncle. Admitting that I might have been to blame, I did not deserve,in my own opinion at least, to be so totally forgotten by my father; andI thought my present excursion might have the effect of bringing a letterfrom him to hand more early than it would otherwise have reached me. Butbefore concluding my letter concerning the affair of Morris, I failed notto express my earnest hope and wish that my father would honour me with afew lines, were it but to express his advice and commands in an affair ofsome difficulty, and where my knowledge of life could not be supposedadequate to my own guidance. I found it impossible to prevail on myselfto urge my actual return to London as a place of residence, and Idisguised my unwillingness to do so under apparent submission to myfather's will, which, as I imposed it on myself as a sufficient reasonfor not urging my final departure from Osbaldistone Hall, would, Idoubted not, be received as such by my parent. But I begged permission tocome to London, for a short time at least, to meet and refute theinfamous calumnies which had been circulated concerning me in so public amanner. Having made up my packet, in which my earnest desire to vindicatemy character was strangely blended with reluctance to quit my presentplace of residence, I rode over to the post-town, and deposited my letterin the office. By doing so, I obtained possession, somewhat earlier thanI should otherwise have done, of the following letter from my friend Mr.Owen:--
"Dear Mr. Francis,
"Yours received per favour of Mr. R. Osbaldistone, and note the contents.Shall do Mr. R. O. such civilities as are in my power, and have taken himto see the Bank and Custom-house. He seems a sober, steady younggentleman, and takes to business; so will be of service to the firm.Could have wished another person had turned his mind that way; but God'swill be done. As cash may be scarce in those parts, have to trust youwill excuse my enclosing a goldsmith's bill at six days' sight, onMessrs. Hooper and Girder of Newcastle, for L100, which I doubt not willbe duly honoured.--I remain, as in duty bound, dear Mr. Frank, your veryrespectful and obedient servant,
"Joseph Owen.
"_Postscriptum._--Hope you will advise the above coming safe to hand. Amsorry we have so few of yours. Your father says he is as usual, but lookspoorly."
From this epistle, written in old Owen's formal style, I was rathersurprised to observe that he made no acknowledgment of that privateletter which I had written to him, with a view to possess him ofRashleigh's real character, although, from the course of post, it seemedcertain that he ought to have received it. Yet I had sent it by the usualconveyance from the Hall, and had no reason to suspect that it couldmiscarry upon the road. As it comprised matters of great importance bothto my father and to myself, I sat down in the post-office and again wroteto Owen, recapitulating the heads of my former letter, and requesting toknow, in course of post, if it had reached him in safety. I alsoacknowledged the receipt of the bill, and promised to make use of thecontents if I should have any occasion for money. I thought, indeed, itwas odd that my father should leave the care of supplying my necessitiesto his clerk; but I concluded it was a matter arranged between them. Atany rate, Owen was a bachelor, rich in his way, and passionately attachedto me, so that I had no hesitation in being obliged to him for a smallsum, which I resolved to consider as a loan, to be returned with myearliest ability, in case it was not previously repaid by my father; andI expressed myself to this purpose to Mr. Owen. A shopkeeper in a littletown, to whom the post-master directed me, readily gave me in gold theamount of my bill on Messrs. Hooper and Girder, so that I returned toOsbaldistone Hall a good deal richer than I had set forth. This recruitto my finances was not a matter of indifference to me, as I wasnecessarily involved in some expenses at Osbaldistone Hall; and I hadseen, with some uneasy impatience, that the sum which my travellingexpenses had left unexhausted at my arrival there was imperceptiblydiminishing. This source of anxiety was for the present removed. On myarrival at the Hall I found that Sir Hildebrand and all his offspring hadgone down to the little hamlet, called Trinlay-knowes, "to see," asAndrew Fairservice expressed it, "a wheen midden cocks pike ilk ither'sbarns out."
"It is indeed a brutal amusement, Andrew; I suppose you have none such inScotland?"
"Na, na," answered Andrew boldly; then shaded away his negative with,"unless it be on Fastern's-e'en, or the like o' that--But indeed it's nomuckle matter what the folk do to the midden pootry, for they had siccana skarting and scraping in the yard, that there's nae getting a bean orpea keepit for them.--But I am wondering what it is that leaves thatturret-door open;--now that Mr. Rashleigh's away, it canna be him, Itrow."
The turret-door to which he alluded opened to the garden at the bottom ofa winding stair, leading down from Mr. Rashleigh's apartment. This, as Ihave already mentioned, was situated in a sequestered part of the house,communicating with the library by a private entrance, and by anotherintricate and dark vaulted passage with the rest of the house. A longnarrow turf walk led, between two high holly hedges, from the turret-doorto a little postern in the wall of the garden. By means of thesecommunications Rashleigh, whose movements were very independent of thoseof the rest of his family, could leave the Hall or return to it atpleasure, without his absence or presence attracting any observation. Butduring his absence the stair and the turret-door were entirely disused,and this made Andrew's observation somewhat remarkable.
"Have you often observed that door open?" was my question.
"No just that often neither; but I hae noticed it ance or twice. I'mthinking it maun hae been the priest, Father Vaughan, as they ca' him.Ye'll no catch ane o' the servants gauging up that stair, puir frightenedheathens that they are, for fear of bogles and brownies, and lang-nebbitthings frae the neist warld. But Father Vaughan thinks himself aprivileged person--set him up and lay him down!--I'se be caution thewarst stibbler that ever stickit a sermon out ower the Tweed yonder, wadlay a ghaist twice as fast as him, wi' his holy water and his idolatroustrinkets. I dinna believe he speaks gude Latin neither; at least he disnatake me up when I tell him the learned names o' the plants."
Of Father Vaughan, who divided his time and his ghostly care betweenOsbaldistone Hall and about half a dozen mansions of Catholic gentlemenin the neighbourhood, I have as yet said nothing, for I had seen butlittle. He was aged about sixty--of a good family, as I was given tounderstand, in the north--of a striking and imposing presence, grave inhis exterior, and much respected among the Catholics of Northumberland asa worthy and upright man. Yet Father Vaughan did not altogether lackthose peculiarities which distinguish his order. There hung about him anair of mystery, which, in Protestant eyes, savoured of priestcraft. Thenatives (such they might be well termed) of Osbaldistone Hall looked upto him with much more fear, or at least more awe, than affection. Hiscondemnation of their revels was evident, from their being d
iscontinuedin some measure when the priest was a resident at the Hall. Even SirHildebrand himself put some restraint upon his conduct at such times,which, perhaps, rendered Father Vaughan's presence rather irksome thanotherwise. He had the well-bred, insinuating, and almost flatteringaddress peculiar to the clergy of his persuasion, especially in England,where the lay Catholic, hemmed in by penal laws, and by the restrictionsof his sect and recommendation of his pastor, often exhibits a reserved,and almost a timid manner in the society of Protestants; while thepriest, privileged by his order to mingle with persons of all creeds, isopen, alert, and liberal in his intercourse with them, desirous ofpopularity, and usually skilful in the mode of obtaining it.
Father Vaughan was a particular acquaintance of Rashleigh's, otherwise,in all probability, he would scarce have been able to maintain hisfooting at Osbaldistone Hall. This gave me no desire to cultivate hisintimacy, nor did he seem to make any advances towards mine; so ouroccasional intercourse was confined to the exchange of mere civility. Iconsidered it as extremely probable that Mr. Vaughan might occupyRashleigh's apartment during his occasional residence at the Hall; andhis profession rendered it likely that he should occasionally be a tenantof the library. Nothing was more probable than that it might have beenhis candle which had excited my attention on a preceding evening. Thisled me involuntarily to recollect that the intercourse between MissVernon and the priest was marked with something like the same mysterywhich characterised her communications with Rashleigh. I had never heardher mention Vaughan's name, or even allude to him, excepting on theoccasion of our first meeting, when she mentioned the old priest andRashleigh as the only conversable beings, besides herself, inOsbaldistone Hall. Yet although silent with respect to Father Vaughan,his arrival at the Hall never failed to impress Miss Vernon with ananxious and fluttering tremor, which lasted until they had exchanged oneor two significant glances.
Whatever the mystery might be which overclouded the destinies of thisbeautiful and interesting female, it was clear that Father Vaughan wasimplicated in it; unless, indeed, I could suppose that he was the agentemployed to procure her settlement in the cloister, in the event of herrejecting a union with either of my cousins,--an office which wouldsufficiently account for her obvious emotion at his appearance. As to therest, they did not seem to converse much together, or even to seek eachother's society. Their league, if any subsisted between them, was of atacit and understood nature, operating on their actions without anynecessity of speech. I recollected, however, on reflection, that I hadonce or twice discovered signs pass betwixt them, which I had at the timesupposed to bear reference to some hint concerning Miss Vernon'sreligious observances, knowing how artfully the Catholic clergy maintain,at all times and seasons, their influence over the minds of theirfollowers. But now I was disposed to assign to these communications adeeper and more mysterious import. Did he hold private meetings with MissVernon in the library? was a question which occupied my thoughts; and ifso, for what purpose? And why should she have admitted an intimate of thedeceitful Rashleigh to such close confidence?
These questions and difficulties pressed on my mind with an interestwhich was greatly increased by the impossibility of resolving them. I hadalready begun to suspect that my friendship for Diana Vernon was notaltogether so disinterested as in wisdom it ought to have been. I hadalready felt myself becoming jealous of the contemptible lout Thorncliff,and taking more notice, than in prudence or dignity of feeling I ought tohave done, of his silly attempts to provoke me. And now I wasscrutinising the conduct of Miss Vernon with the most close and eagerobservation, which I in vain endeavoured to palm on myself as theoffspring of idle curiosity. All these, like Benedick's brushing his hatof a morning, were signs that the sweet youth was in love; and while myjudgment still denied that I had been guilty of forming an attachment soimprudent, she resembled those ignorant guides, who, when they have ledthe traveller and themselves into irretrievable error, persist inobstinately affirming it to be impossible that they can have missed theway.
