by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XIII.
Parental love, my friend, has power o'er wisdom, And is the charm, which, like the falconer's lure, Can bring from heaven the highest soaring spirits.-- So, when famed Prosper doff'd his magic robe, It was Miranda pluck'd it from his shoulders.
_Old Play._
Our wandering narrative must now return to Mordaunt Mertoun.--We lefthim in the perilous condition of one who has received a severe wound,and we now find him in the condition of a convalescent--pale, indeed,and feeble from the loss of much blood, and the effects of a fever whichhad followed the injury, but so far fortunate, that the weapon, havingglanced on the ribs, had only occasioned a great effusion of blood,without touching any vital part, and was now wellnigh healed; soefficacious were the vulnerary plants and salves with which it had beentreated by the sage Norna of Fitful-head.
The matron and her patient now sat together in a dwelling in a remoteisland. He had been transported, during his illness, and ere he hadperfect consciousness, first to her singular habitation nearFitful-head, and thence to her present abode, by one of thefishing-boats on the station of Burgh-Westra. For such was the commandpossessed by Norna over the superstitious character of her countrymen,that she never failed to find faithful agents to execute her commands,whatever these happened to be; and, as her orders were generally givenunder injunctions of the strictest secrecy, men reciprocally wondered atoccurrences, which had in fact been produced by their own agency, andthat of their neighbours, and in which, had they communicated freelywith each other, no shadow of the marvellous would have remained.
Mordaunt was now seated by the fire, in an apartment indifferently wellfurnished, having a book in his hand, which he looked upon from time totime with signs of ennui and impatience; feelings which at length so farovercame him, that, flinging the volume on the table, he fixed his eyeson the fire, and assumed the attitude of one who is engaged inunpleasant meditation.
Norna, who sat opposite to him, and appeared busy in the composition ofsome drug or unguent, anxiously left her seat, and, approachingMordaunt, felt his pulse, making at the same time the most affectionateenquiries whether he felt any sudden pain, and where it was seated. Themanner in which Mordaunt replied to these earnest enquiries, althoughworded so as to express gratitude for her kindness, while he disclaimedany feeling of indisposition, did not seem to give satisfaction to thePythoness.
"Ungrateful boy!" she said, "for whom I have done so much; you whom Ihave rescued, by my power and skill, from the very gates of death,--areyou already so weary of me, that you cannot refrain from showing howdesirous you are to spend, at a distance from me, the very firstintelligent days of the life which I have restored you?"
"You do me injustice, my kind preserver," replied Mordaunt; "I am nottired of your society; but I have duties which recall me to ordinarylife."
"Duties!" repeated Norna; "and what duties can or ought to interferewith the gratitude which you owe to me?--Duties! Your thoughts are onthe use of your gun, or on clambering among the rocks in quest ofsea-fowl. For these exercises your strength doth not yet fit you; andyet these are the duties to which you are so anxious to return!"
"Not so, my good and kind mistress," said Mordaunt.--"To name one duty,out of many, which makes me seek to leave you, now that my strengthpermits, let me mention that of a son to his father."
"To your father!" said Norna, with a laugh that had something in italmost frantic. "O! you know not how we can, in these islands, at oncecancel such duties! And, for your father," she added, proceeding morecalmly, "what has he done for you, to deserve the regard and duty youspeak of?--Is he not the same, who, as you have long since told me, leftyou for so many years poorly nourished among strangers, withoutenquiring whether you were alive or dead, and only sending, from time totime, supplies in such fashion, as men relieve the leprous wretch towhom they fling alms from a distance? And, in these later years, when hehad made you the companion of his misery, he has been, by starts yourpedagogue, by starts your tormentor, but never, Mordaunt, never yourfather."
"Something of truth there is in what you say," replied Mordaunt: "Myfather is not fond; but he is, and has ever been, effectively kind. Menhave not their affections in their power; and it is a child's duty to begrateful for the benefits which he receives, even when coldly bestowed.My father has conferred instruction on me, and I am convinced he lovesme. He is unfortunate; and, even if he loved me not"----
"And he does _not_ love you," said Norna, hastily; "he never loved anything, or any one, save himself. He is unfortunate, but well are hismisfortunes deserved.--O Mordaunt, you have one parent only,--oneparent, who loves you as the drops of the heart-blood!"
"I know I have but one parent," replied Mordaunt; "my mother has beenlong dead.--But your words contradict each other."
"They do not--they do not," said Norna, in a paroxysm of the deepestfeeling; "you have but one parent. Your unhappy mother is not dead--Iwould to God that she were!--but she is not dead. Thy mother is the onlyparent that loves thee; and I--I, Mordaunt," throwing herself on hisneck, "am that most unhappy--yet most happy mother."
She closed him in a strict and convulsive embrace; and tears, the first,perhaps, which she had shed for many years, burst in torrents as shesobbed on his neck. Astonished at what he heard, felt, and saw,--movedby the excess of her agitation, yet disposed to ascribe this burst ofpassion to insanity,--Mordaunt vainly endeavoured to tranquillize themind of this extraordinary person.
"Ungrateful boy!" she said, "who but a mother would have watched overthee as I have watched? From the instant I saw thy father, when helittle thought by whom he was observed, a space now many years back, Iknew him well; and, under his charge, I saw you, then astripling,--while Nature, speaking loud in my bosom, assured me, thouwert blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. Think how often you havewondered to see me, when least expected, in your places of pastime andresort! Think how often my eye has watched you on the giddy precipices,and muttered those charms which subdue the evil demons, who showthemselves to the climber on the giddiest point of his path, and forcehim to quit his hold! Did I not hang around thy neck, in pledge of thysafety, that chain of gold, which an Elfin King gave to the founder ofour race? Would I have given that dear gift to any but to the son of mybosom?--Mordaunt, my power has done that for thee that a mere mortalmother would dread to think of. I have conjured the Mermaid at midnight,that thy bark might be prosperous on the Haaf! I have hushed the winds,and navies have flapped their empty sails against the mast ininactivity, that you might safely indulge your sport upon the crags!"
Mordaunt, perceiving that she was growing yet wilder in her talk,endeavoured to frame an answer which should be at once indulgent,soothing, and calculated to allay the rising warmth of her imagination.
"Dear Norna," he said, "I have indeed many reasons to call you mother,who have bestowed so many benefits upon me; and from me you shall everreceive the affection and duty of a child. But the chain you mentioned,it has vanished from my neck--I have not seen it since the ruffianstabbed me."
"Alas! and can you think of it at this moment?" said Norna, in asorrowful accent.--"But be it so;--and know, it was I took it from thyneck, and tied it around the neck of her who is dearest to you; in tokenthat the union betwixt you, which has been the only earthly wish whichI have had the power to form, shall yet, even yet, be accomplished--ay,although hell should open to forbid the bans!"
"Alas!" said Mordaunt, with a sigh, "you remember not the differencebetwixt our situation--her father is wealthy, and of ancient birth."
"Not more wealthy than will be the heir of Norna of Fitful-head,"answered the Pythoness--"not of better or more ancient blood than thatwhich flows in thy veins, derived from thy mother, the descendant of thesame Jarls and Sea-Kings from whom Magnus boasts his origin.--Or dostthou think, like the pedant and fanatic strangers who have come amongstus, that thy blood is dishonoured because my union with thy father didnot receive the sanction of a
priest?--Know, that we were wedded afterthe ancient manner of the Norse--our hands were clasped within thecircle of Odin,[32] with such deep vows of eternal fidelity, as even thelaws of these usurping Scots would have sanctioned as equivalent to ablessing before the altar. To the offspring of such a union, Magnus hasnought to object. It was weak--it was criminal, on my part, but itconveyed no infamy to the birth of my son."
The composed and collected manner in which Norna argued these pointsbegan to impose upon Mordaunt an incipient belief in the truth of whatshe said; and, indeed, she added so many circumstances, satisfactorilyand rationally connected with each other, as seemed to confute thenotion that her story was altogether the delusion of that insanity whichsometimes showed itself in her speech and actions. A thousand confusedideas rushed upon him, when he supposed it possible that the unhappyperson before him might actually have a right to claim from him therespect and affection due to a parent from a son. He could only surmountthem by turning his mind to a different, and scarce less interestingtopic, resolving within himself to take time for farther enquiry andmature consideration, ere he either rejected or admitted the claim whichNorna preferred upon his affection and duty. His benefactress, at least,she undoubtedly was, and he could not err in paying her, as such, therespect and attention due from a son to a mother; and so far, therefore,he might gratify Norna without otherwise standing committed.
"And do you then really think, my mother,--since so you bid me termyou,"--said Mordaunt, "that the proud Magnus Troil may, by anyinducement, be prevailed upon to relinquish the angry feelings which hehas of late adopted towards me, and to permit my addresses to hisdaughter Brenda?"
"Brenda?" repeated Norna--"who talks of Brenda?--it was of Minna that Ispoke to you."
"But it was of Brenda that I thought," replied Mordaunt, "of her that Inow think, and of her alone that I will ever think."
"Impossible, my son!" replied Norna. "You cannot be so dull of heart, sopoor of spirit, as to prefer the idle mirth and housewife simplicity ofthe younger sister, to the deep feeling and high mind of thenoble-spirited Minna? Who would stoop to gather the lowly violet, thatmight have the rose for stretching out his hand?"
"Some think the lowliest flowers are the sweetest," replied Mordaunt,"and in that faith will I live and die."
"You dare not tell me so!" answered Norna, fiercely; then, instantlychanging her tone, and taking his hand in the most affectionate manner,she proceeded:--"You must not--you will not tell me so, my dear son--youwill not break a mother's heart in the very first hour in which she hasembraced her child!--Nay, do not answer, but hear me. You must wedMinna--I have bound around her neck a fatal amulet, on which thehappiness of both depends. The labours of my life have for years hadthis direction. Thus it must be, and not otherwise--Minna must be thebride of my son!"
"But is not Brenda equally near, equally dear to you?" replied Mordaunt.
"As near in blood," said Norna, "but not so dear, no not half so dear,in affection. Minna's mild, yet high and contemplative spirit, rendersher a companion meet for one, whose ways, like mine, are beyond theordinary paths of this world. Brenda is a thing of common and ordinarylife, an idle laugher and scoffer, who would level art with ignorance,and reduce power to weakness, by disbelieving and turning into ridiculewhatever is beyond the grasp of her own shallow intellect."
"She is, indeed," answered Mordaunt, "neither superstitious norenthusiastic, and I love her the better for it. Remember also, mymother, that she returns my affection, and that Minna, if she loves anyone, loves the stranger Cleveland."
"She does not--she dares not," answered Norna, "nor dares he pursue herfarther. I told him, when first he came to Burgh-Westra, that I destinedher for you."
"And to that rash annunciation," said Mordaunt, "I owe this man'spersevering enmity--my wound, and wellnigh the loss of my life. See, mymother, to what point your intrigues have already conducted us, and, inHeaven's name, prosecute them no farther!"
It seemed as if this reproach struck Norna with the force, at once, andvivacity of lightning; for she struck her forehead with her hand, andseemed about to drop from her seat. Mordaunt, greatly shocked, hastenedto catch her in his arms, and, though scarce knowing what to say,attempted to utter some incoherent expressions.
"Spare me, Heaven, spare me!" were the first words which she muttered;"do not let my crime be avenged by his means!--Yes, young man," shesaid, after a pause, "you have dared to tell what I dared not tellmyself. You have pressed that upon me, which, if it be truth, I cannotbelieve, and yet continue to live!"
Mordaunt in vain endeavoured to interrupt her with protestations of hisignorance how he had offended or grieved her, and of his extreme regretthat he had unintentionally done either. She proceeded, while her voicetrembled wildly, with vehemence.
"Yes! you have touched on that dark suspicion which poisons theconsciousness of my power,--the sole boon which was given me in exchangefor innocence and for peace of mind! Your voice joins that of the demonwhich, even while the elements confess me their mistress, whispers tome, 'Norna, this is but delusion--your power rests but in the idlebelief of the ignorant, supported by a thousand petty artifices of yourown.'--This is what Brenda says--this is what you would say; and false,scandalously false, as it is, there are rebellious thoughts in this wildbrain of mine," (touching her forehead with her finger as she spoke,)"that, like an insurrection in an invaded country, arise to take partagainst their distressed sovereign.--Spare me, my son!" she continued ina voice of supplication, "spare me!--the sovereignty of which your wordswould deprive me, is no enviable exaltation. Few would covet to ruleover gibbering ghosts, and howling winds, and raging currents. My throneis a cloud, my sceptre a meteor, my realm is only peopled withfantasies; but I must either cease to be, or continue to be themightiest as well as the most miserable of beings!"[33]
"Do not speak thus mournfully, my dear and unhappy benefactress," saidMordaunt, much affected; "I will think of your power whatever you wouldhave me believe. But, for your own sake, view the matter otherwise. Turnyour thoughts from such agitating and mystical studies--from such wildsubjects of contemplation, into another and a better channel. Life willagain have charms, and religion will have comforts, for you."
She listened to him with some composure, as if she weighed his counsel,and desired to be guided by it; but, as he ended, she shook her head andexclaimed--
"It cannot be. I must remain the dreaded--the mystical--theReimkennar--the controller of the elements, or I must be no more! I haveno alternative, no middle station. My post must be high on yon loftyheadland, where never stood human foot save mine--or I must sleep at thebottom of the unfathomable ocean, its white billows booming over mysenseless corpse. The parricide shall never also be denounced as theimpostor!"
"The parricide!" echoed Mordaunt, stepping back in horror.
"Yes, my son!" answered Norna, with a stern composure, even morefrightful than her former impetuosity, "within these fatal walls myfather met his death by my means. In yonder chamber was he found a lividand lifeless corpse. Beware of filial disobedience, for such are itsfruits!"
So saying, she arose and left the apartment, where Mordaunt remainedalone to meditate at leisure upon the extraordinary communication whichhe had received. He himself had been taught by his father a disbelief inthe ordinary superstitions of Zetland; and he now saw that Norna,however ingenious in duping others, could not altogether impose onherself. This was a strong circumstance in favour of her sanity ofintellect; but, on the other hand, her imputing to herself the guilt ofparricide seemed so wild and improbable, as, in Mordaunt's opinion, tothrow much doubt upon her other assertions.
He had leisure enough to make up his mind on these particulars, for noone approached the solitary dwelling, of which Norna, her dwarf, and hehimself, were the sole inhabitants. The Hoy island in which it stood isrude, bold, and lofty, consisting entirely of three hills--or rather onehuge mountain divided into three summits, with the chasms, rents, andvalleys, which descend from its su
mmit to the sea, while its crest,rising to great height, and shivered into rocks which seem almostinaccessible, intercepts the mists as they drive from the Atlantic,and, often obscured from the human eye, forms the dark and unmolestedretreat of hawks, eagles, and other birds of prey.[34]
The soil of the island is wet, mossy, cold, and unproductive, presentinga sterile and desolate appearance, excepting where the sides of smallrivulets, or mountain ravines, are fringed with dwarf bushes of birch,hazel, and wild currant, some of them so tall as to be denominatedtrees, in that bleak and bare country.
But the view of the sea-beach, which was Mordaunt's favourite walk, whenhis convalescent state began to permit him to take exercise, had charmswhich compensated the wild appearance of the interior. A broad andbeautiful sound, or strait, divides this lonely and mountainous islandfrom Pomona, and in the centre of that sound lies, like a tabletcomposed of emerald, the beautiful and verdant little island of Graemsay.On the distant Mainland is seen the town or village of Stromness, theexcellence of whose haven is generally evinced by a considerable numberof shipping in the roadstead, and, from the bay growing narrower, andlessening as it recedes, runs inland into Pomona, where its tide fillsthe fine sheet of water called the Loch of Stennis.
On this beach Mordaunt was wont to wander for hours, with an eye notinsensible to the beauties of the view, though his thoughts wereagitated with the most embarrassing meditations on his own situation. Hewas resolved to leave the island as soon as the establishment of hishealth should permit him to travel; yet gratitude to Norna, of whom hewas at least the adopted, if not the real son, would not allow him todepart without her permission, even if he could obtain means ofconveyance, of which he saw little possibility. It was only byimportunity that he extorted from his hostess a promise, that, if hewould consent to regulate his motions according to her directions, shewould herself convey him to the capital of the Orkney Islands, when theapproaching Fair of Saint Olla should take place there.
FOOTNOTES:
[32] See an explanation of this promise, Note II. of this volume.
[33] Note V.--Character of Norna.
[34] Note VI.--Birds of Prey.
