CHAPTER III.
There was in the mansion of Bishop's Merton one of those delightfulold chambers which, like a warm and benevolent heart, have a nook forevery one. It was a large wide room, with a recess on one side bigenough to have formed another room, and a lesser recess at eachcorner, on the same side, made by two small square turrets, eachlighted by its own windows, and containing tables and chairs of itsown, so that the studious or the meditative, but not the unsociable,could sit and read, or muse apart, without being actually cut off fromthe society assembled. The walls were all covered with tapestry,descended through many generations in the same family, and which hadcovered the walls of a similar chamber in an old castle, partlydestroyed luring the civil wars of the Roses, and pulled down at thecommencement of the reign of Henry the Eighth.
Out from the tapestry, however, after an old fashion, which certainlyshowed pictures to much greater advantage than when plastered upon theface of the wall, stood a great many portraits of different degrees ofart, supported at the lower part by a gilt iron bracket, and upheld ina slightly sloping position by an iron bar at the top. From the cold,severe Holbein to the rich and juicy Rubens and the poetical Vandyke,all the famous artists of the last two centuries had exercised theirpencils in pourtraying the features of a race which had always beenfruitful in beauty; and the history of the changeful mind of those twoages was shadowed forth in the varying costume in which the charactersappeared. Nor is it, let me say, dear reader, in passing, a alightindication of the state of the popular mind that is afforded by thedress of the day. Look at the Chevalier in his long floating locks,his silks and velvets, and at the Roundhead, in his steeple hat, hisstraight-cut suit and prim cloak, each with his heavy-hilted sword andlarge flapping gloves, and say whether Naseby Field and Marsden Moor,and all the deeds on either part, do not naturally, and not purelyhistorically, connect themselves with such apparel; and then turn toourselves, with our straight-cut frock-coats, neat, close-fittingboots, and other mathematical habiliments, which seem to have beenfashioned by the rules and compasses of a Laputan sage, and tellme whether they do not plainly speak of an age of railroads andsteam-boats.
There, however, stood the pictures of the brave and beautiful of othertimes, bending down over their once-familiar halls and the doings oftheir descendants, as the spirits of the dead may be supposed to gazeupon the actions of the children they have left behind; and there inthe oriel window, just about the time of day at which we commencedthis tale, sat a creature whom those long-gone bold warriors andlovely dames might look upon with pride, and own her of their blood.
It was a lady of some twenty years of age, not very tall, but yet, ifanything, above the middle height of women. She was very beautiful tooin feature, with a skin as white as alabaster, and as smooth, yet withthe rose glowing in her cheek, and her arched lips red and full ofhealth.
I have long discovered that it is impossible to paint beauty with thepen; and, therefore, I will say no more than may be sufficient merelyto give the reader some idea of what kind and sort hers was of, morethat the harmony which ought always, and generally does, in somedegree exist between the form and mind may be understood, than to drawa picture of which imagination would still have to fill up half thedetails. Though her skin, as I have said, was so fair, her hair, hereyebrows, and her eyes were dark--not exactly black, for in them allthere was a gleam of sunny warmth which like the dawn brightened thedeep hue of night. The expression of her countenance was generally gayand cheerful, but varying often, as a heart quickly susceptible ofstrong feelings, and a mind full of imagination, were affected by theevents in which she took part, and the circumstances around her. Youthand health, and bountiful nature, had endued her form with manifoldgraces; and though her limbs were full and rounded in contour, yetthey displayed in every movement lines of exquisite symmetry, and,like the brother of Joab, she was swift of foot as the wild roe. As isoften the case with persons of quick fancy, her mind, though naturallyof a cheerful and hopeful bent, was nevertheless not unfrequentlyovershadowed by a cloud of passing melancholy; and a look of sadnesswould occasionally come into her fair face, as if the consciousnesswhich is in most hearts that this world of glittering delusions hasits darker scenes, even for those of the brightest fate, made itselfpainfully felt at times when no apparent cause for grief orapprehension was near. But such shadows passed quickly away, and thegeneral tone of her heart and her expression was, as we have said,bright and sunshiny.
Her father had been a man who took his ideas greatly from thoseamongst whom he lived. In short, he attributed too much importance tothe opinions of his fellow-men. We may attribute too little to them,it is true, and even great men are bound to pay some deference to thedeliberate judgment of many; but it is usually--nay, invariably--asign of weak understanding, to depend for the tone of our own thoughtsupon those around. However, as he was thrown into the society of menwho set great value upon accomplishments, such as they were in thosedays, he had made a point of having his daughter instructed in all thelighter arts of the times. To sing, to dance, to play on variousinstruments, to speak the two languages most in fashion at the court,French and Italian, with the ease and accent of a native, had seemedto him matters of vast importance; and as she showed every facility inacquiring whatever he desired, he had no cause to be discontented withher progress. She might, perhaps, have been taught to consider suchthings of much importance too; but she had a mother--the safeguard ofGod to our early years. That mother was a woman of a high and noblemind, somewhat stern, perhaps, and rigid, yet not unkind or unfeeling;and between a parent weak, though possessed of talent, and one keenand powerful in intellect, though not quick or brilliant, it mayeasily be guessed which gave the stronger impress to the mind of thechild. Thus Annie Walton learned somewhat to undervalue theaccomplishments which, to please her father, she acquired; and thoughshe possessed less of the stern, calm, determined character of hermother than her brother Charles, and more of the pliant and easydisposition of her father, yet she inherited a share of highresolution and firm decision, which was requisite, even in a woman, toenable her to encounter the dangers and difficulties of the times inwhich she lived.
She sat then in the oriel window of the hall at Bishop's Merton,reading a page printed roughly on coarse paper, while now a smile,somewhat saddened, and now a look of anger, somewhat brightened by thehalf-faded smile, passed over her sweet face, as, in one of thebroadsheets of the day which had been left with her a few minutesbefore by Mr. Dry, of Longsoaken, she saw the doings of a parliamentwhich began by asserting the rights of the people, and ended byattacking the just prerogatives of the crown; which commenced byopposing tyranny and deceit in the rulers of the land, and ended byfar exceeding all the tyranny and deceit it had opposed, and addingthe most beastly hypocrisy and violence, fraud, rapine, and cruelty,to the crimes and follies which it had found existing. She read andsmiled--she read and sighed; for, though her family had taken no partin the deeds of the last twelve months, and though her mother had beenthrough life rather attached to the doctrines of the Presbyteriansthan their opponents, yet there was something in the cause of theCavaliers, with all their faults, in their very rashness and want ofall pretence--something in the cold-blooded hypocrisy and falsepretexts of the Parliamentarians--which had engaged her sympathies onthe losing side, and roused her indignation against the successful.
While she was thus occupied, a horseman passed rapidly before thewindow towards the principal door of the house, crossing like a quickbird in its flight; and, casting down the paper, Miss Walton ran out,murmuring, "It is Charles!"
There was a large old-fashioned vestibule hung with pikes and arms,corslets and head-pieces, and stags' antlers, and hunting horns, andall the implements of real battle, and of the mimic warfare of thechase. The door leading to the terrace stood wide open, with an oldservant on either side; and as she bounded forward with theexpectation of meeting her brother, her countenance beaming withpleasure to greet him on his return, a
stranger entered, and advancedat once towards her.
Annie Walton's face suddenly became graver, and a blush rose into hercheek; but the cavalier came forward with a frank and unembarrassedair, walked straight up to her, and took her hand as if he had been anold friend.
"You thought it was your brother," he said, with easy grace, savingher all trouble of explanation, "and you are disappointed, MissWalton. Would that I had a sister to look so joyful on my return to myold halls! but your disappointment will have no long life. CharlesWalton will be here ere the world be an hour older; and in the meantime you must show me and my poor beast fair hospitality till themaster of the mansion comes himself to tell you more about his friend,Sir Francis Clare."
He bowed as he thus introduced himself, and Annie Walton, with allcourtesy, but with a grave air, invited him to the hall where she hadbeen sitting, trying to call to mind the name he had mentioned amongstthose of all her brother's acquaintances. She could recollect no suchperson, however, as Sir Francis Clare; and although there was in thefrankness of the stranger's manner something that pleased her, yet shealmost thought it too free in one whom she could not believe to bevery intimate with Lord Walton. Yet there was a grace as well as anease in his demeanour, a tone not easily described, but which can onlybe acquired by long, intimate habits of familiarity with persons ofhigh mind and education, a self-possession, distinct from impudence,which showed her at once that the visiter was not one of the wild andreckless roysterers of the court and army of King Charles, whopresumed without merit, and endeavoured to cover vulgarity of spiritwith self-confidence.
Leading the way then to the hall, she begged the stranger to beseated. He bowed, and let her take her place, while he remainedstanding before her, calculating rapidly what was passing in herthoughts, and, to say truth, somewhat struck with the beauty of thiscynosure of neighbouring eyes, who, whatever he might have expected tofind, went far in loveliness beyond his imagination.
There was a momentary pause while she thought of what was next tocome, but the stranger spoke first. "I must seem very bold, I fear,and somewhat too free, Miss Walton," he said at length, "in thustreating you as an old acquaintance; but the circumstances of thesedays engender strange habits of rapidity in all our doings. Roughtimes abridge ceremonies, and besides, when our thoughts are familiareven with these whom we have never met, a sort of one-sided friendshipgrows up in our breast towards them which makes us forget that it isnot reciprocal. I have so often heard your brother talk of you, sooften conversed, with him of you, that I may think myself lucky thatat our first meeting I did not offend you by calling you Annie."
"It would have surprised more than offended," replied his faircompanion, with a smile; "but Charles will, I trust, soon make usbetter acquainted. Have you seen him lately?"
"Not for five years," answered Sir Francis Clare; "and yet, sweetlady, know more of his proceedings than you do who parted with him buta week ago; not that he is deep-dyed in plots and conspiracies keptfrom his sister's ear; but simply, because he wrote to me yesterdayone of his brief but comprehensive notes, telling me what he purposed,and giving me a rendezvous here today, which I, with my usualimpatience, have run before by near an hour. I heard of him too, as Icame along, and though I found that I should be before him, yet Ihurried on--not to surprise his sister all alone, and make her wonderwhat strange rash man had come to visit her, believe me."
"Such an object were little worth the spur, Sir," replied the lady,laughing: "but if I understand you right, your friendship with mybrother must have begun when he was in France."
"Long before that," replied the cavalier; "but when last I parted withhim he was in Italy, where he left me to return to his own house. Webade each other farewell under the Logga de Lanzi, in the fair town ofFlorence."
"Oh! how I long to see that place," cried Annie Walton--"it is one ofthe dreams of my imagination which, perhaps, may never be realized."
"Few dreams of the imagination ever are," answered her companion. "Hewho gives himself up to fancy is like a man led by a child, who tellshim of all the wonderful things that he will show him in the garden ofthe world, and when he comes to see the marvels, finds them but Mayblossoms and brier roses, that fade as soon as gathered, and leave abunch of thorns in his hand."
Annie Walton raised her eyes to the stranger's brow, and gazed at therich floating hair that covered it, to see if she could trace any ofthe marks of that age which has proved the world and discovered itsdelusions. But all was youthful and open; there was nothing grey orgrave, and she replied--
"You speak sadly of this earth and its enjoyments, sir; and yet Iwould not part with Fancy and all her pleasant deceits if I could."
"Never! Never!" cried Sir Francis Clare, eagerly. "If I may use aparadox, sweet lady, the deceits of reality are ten times moredangerous than those of imagination. If all things are delusionsexcept the hopes of a higher and a holier world, let us keep thepleasant delusions at least, and they are those of fancy--but whathave we here?--The last news from London?"
"The reply of the parliament to the king's message," answered thelady; "and thirty-one good reasons for rejecting his majesty's offers,with the godly and soul-saving declaration of several pious menconcerning Popery and Prelacy."
The stranger laughed.
"How easy is it," he cried, "to cover gross treason, not only to king,but to country, with fair pretexts of freedom, or to hide what theythemselves call the most carnal self-seeking with a garb of religiouszeal, and to give the fairest names to the blackest passions of ournature! 'Tis a trite remark, but one that forces itself upon us everyday; and yet this is the trade that succeeds in the world, so thatgross deceit raises itself to high places, and sits in purple and finelinen, while Honesty is left to beg her bread, and plain Truth standsshivering in a ragged blanket."
"But I should think such barefaced hypocrisy as this," answered thelady, "would deceive no one. People may pretend to believe it, but itmust be mere affectation, as bad as the hypocrisy itself."
"Your pardon, madam," replied the cavalier: "there never yet wasfalsehood, however impudent, which, often repeated and told with asmooth face, would not find many to give it ready credence. Not a daypasses but we see some monstrous lie, decked out with strongassurances of sincerity and zeal, pass current with the multitude. Oh,lady! there is an appetite for falsehood in the world that makes themany-headed monster gorge the food, however dirty, and, like a hungrydog, pluck morsels from the very kennel. Yet there is some truth, too,in what these people say. I am not one to cover them with bad names;for, alas! however wrong they may be now, the king put himself infault at first. The man who suffers himself to be compelled to dojustice to others, will, some time or another, have to compel othersto do justice to him; and he who has abandoned his friends in time ofneed, will surely have to lament their loss when he has to strugglewith enemies."
"And has the king done this?" asked Annie Walton.
"Strafford, Strafford," said the cavalier, with a melancholy shake ofthe head; "bold, firm-hearted, gallant Strafford. That fatal error wasthe downfall of King Charles. Where is the hand that now shall raisehim up? Lady, when a general finds himself in a town about to bebesieged by the enemy, he strengthens his fortifications, and throwsdown all the scattered houses and indefensible suburbs that might givethe foes advantage in their approach; but the king pursued a differentcourse: he threw down his defences, and maintained all the suburbs andweak points. But this is sorry conversation for a lady's ears," hecontinued. "What a fair scene does this window show! In riding throughthe low ground I did not mark all the beauty around me."
"It is indeed as fine a view as any in the country round," repliedAnnie Walton; "and often, when I feel sad at heart, I come and gazeout here, and seem to find comfort and confidence from the sight."
"And are you ever sad at heart?" asked Sir Francis Clare, with asmile.
"Not very often, it is true," she answered; "but still, in the presentdisturbed state of the country, which is like one of
those dark stormsthrough which one can see no glimpse of coming sunshine, I cannot butsometimes feel fears and apprehensions--not for myself, indeed, for noone would hurt a woman, I suppose, but for my brother; and when I amthus depressed I need the sight of things which speak, with a voicenot to be misunderstood, of God's power, and his goodness too, to showme that though the tempest may rage for a time, it will give place tobrighter hours at last, and perhaps in itself work benefit even whileit seems destined to destroy."
"Oh, may you ever feel thus!" cried the cavalier, eagerly; "for it wassuch faith brought back the dove to the ark at length. Yet often, whenwe see a world of roaring waters around us, and destruction on everyside, the heart will sink, and trust and confidence give way for atime. But still," he added, laughing, "I am not one to entertain manysombre thoughts; and if the gay companions of thoughtless hours couldknow with what sad ideas I have entertained a fair lady, they wouldrecommend me a Geneva skull-cap and a straight black cloak. I canassure you, our talk in the court is much less solemn. Except for anhour in the morning, when we speak soberly of war and policy, as mentake a walk after breakfast for a good digestion, our days pass muchin the consideration of lace collars, the fashion of sword-knots, andof how to get them. The world, I believe, and most of the things init, are not worth the waste of five minutes' heavy thought; and,weighed in a just balance, perhaps, a madrigal and a charge of horse,a sonnet of tiffany poetry, and the plan of a campaign, are mattersmuch more nearly of the same importance than we think.--But therecomes your brother, or I am mistaken."
"Yes, yes!" cried the lady, gladly, gazing out of the open window intothe valley, along which a small party of horsemen were riding: "hewill be here directly." And she and her companion, whose conversationhad greatly won upon her, continued watching the progress of the youngLord Walton, as he rode rapidly along the valley, till he was hidbehind the high-wooded banks, near which, as we have already related,he paused to hold a short conversation with poor Arrah Neil. Theywondered what detained him so long under the trees; but after a briefpause he appeared again, and in a few minutes he sprang from his horseat the hall-door.
Arrah Neil; or, Times of Old Page 4
