by Walter Scott
When Mowbray had left his dangerous adviser, in order to steer thecourse which his agent had indicated, without offering to recommend it,he went to the little parlour which his sister was wont to term her own,and in which she spent great part of her time. It was fitted up with asort of fanciful neatness; and in its perfect arrangement and goodorder, formed a strong contrast to the other apartments of the old andneglected mansion-house. A number of little articles lay on thework-table, indicating the elegant, and, at the same time, the unsettledturn of the inhabitant's mind. There were unfinished drawings, blottedmusic, needlework of various kinds, and many other little female tasks;all undertaken with zeal, and so far prosecuted with art and elegance,but all flung aside before any one of them was completed.
Clara herself sat upon a little low couch by the window, reading, or atleast turning over the leaves of a book, in which she seemed to read.But instantly starting up when she saw her brother, she ran towards himwith the most cordial cheerfulness.
"Welcome, welcome, my dear John; this is very kind of you to come tovisit your recluse sister. I have been trying to nail my eyes and myunderstanding to a stupid book here, because they say too much thoughtis not quite good for me. But, either the man's dulness, or my want ofthe power of attending, makes my eyes pass over the page, just as oneseems to read in a dream, without being able to comprehend one word ofthe matter. You shall talk to me, and that will do better. What can Igive you to show that you are welcome? I am afraid tea is all I have tooffer, and that you set too little store by."
"I shall be glad of a cup at present," said Mowbray, "for I wish tospeak with you."
"Then Jessy shall make it ready instantly," said Miss Mowbray, ringing,and giving orders to her waiting-maid--"but you must not be ungrateful,John, and plague me with any of the ceremonial for yourfete--'sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.' I will attend, andplay my part as prettily as you can desire; but to think of itbeforehand, would make both my head and my heart ache; and so I beg youwill spare me on the subject."
"Why, you wild kitten," said Mowbray, "you turn every day more shy ofhuman communication--we shall have you take the woods one day, andbecome as savage as the Princess Caraboo. But I will plague you aboutnothing if I can help it. If matters go not smooth on the great day,they must e'en blame the dull thick head that had no fair lady to helphim in his need. But, Clara, I had something more material to say toyou--something indeed of the last importance."
"What is it?" said Clara, in a tone of voice approaching to ascream--"in the name of God, what is it? You know not how you terrifyme!"
"Nay, you start at a shadow, Clara," answered her brother. "It is nosuch uncommon matter neither--good faith, it is the most common distressin the world, so far as I know the world--I am sorely pinched formoney."
"Is that all?" replied Clara, in a tone which seemed to her brother asmuch to underrate the difficulty, when it was explained, as her fearshad exaggerated it before she heard its nature.
"Is that all? Indeed it is all, and comprehends a great deal ofvexation. I shall be hard run unless I can get a certain sum ofmoney--and I must e'en ask you if you can help me?"
"Help you?" replied Clara; "Yes, with all my heart--but you know mypurse is a light one--more than half of my last dividend is in it,however, and I am sure, John, I shall be happy if it can serveyou--especially as that will at least show that your wants are but smallones."
"Alas, Clara, if you would help me," said her brother, half repentant ofhis purpose, "you must draw the neck of the goose which lays the goldeneggs--you must lend me the whole stock."
"And why not, John," said the simple-hearted girl, "if it will do you akindness? Are you not my natural guardian? Are you not a kind one? Andis not my little fortune entirely at your disposal? You will, I amsure, do all for the best."
"I fear I may not," said Mowbray, starting from her, and more distressedby her sudden and unsuspicious compliance, than he would have been bydifficulties, or remonstrance. In the latter case, he would have stifledthe pangs of conscience amid the manoeuvres which he must haveresorted to for obtaining her acquiescence; as matters stood, there wasall the difference that there is between slaughtering a tame andunresisting animal, and pursuing wild game, until the animation of thesportsman's exertions overcomes the internal sense of his owncruelty.[I-E] The same idea occurred to Mowbray himself.
"By G--," he said, "this is like shooting the bird sitting.--Clara," headded, "I fear this money will scarce be employed as you would wish."
"Employ it as you yourself please, my dearest brother," she replied,"and I will believe it is all for the best."
"Nay, I am doing for the best," he replied; "at least, I am doing whatmust be done, for I see no other way through it--so all you have to dois to copy this paper, and bid adieu to bank dividends--for a littlewhile at least. I trust soon to double this little matter for you, ifFortune will but stand my friend."
"Do not trust to Fortune, John," said Clara, smiling, though with anexpression of deep melancholy. "Alas! she has never been a friend to ourfamily--not at least for many a day."
"She favours the bold, say my old grammatical exercises," answered herbrother; "and I must trust her, were she as changeable as aweathercock.--And yet--if she should jilt me!--What will you do--whatwill you say, Clara, if I am unable, contrary to my hope, trust, andexpectation, to repay you this money within a short time?"
"Do?" replied Clara; "I must do without it, you know; and for saying, Iwill not say a word."
"True," replied Mowbray, "but your little expenses--your charities--yourhalt and blind--your round of paupers?"
"Well, I can manage all that too. Look you here, John, how manyhalf-worked trifles there are. The needle or the pencil is the resourceof all distressed heroines, you know; and I promise you, though I havebeen a little idle and unsettled of late, yet, when I do set about it,no Emmeline or Ethelinde of them all ever sent such loads of trumpery tomarket as I shall, or made such wealth as I will do. I dare say LadyPenelope, and all the gentry at the Well, will purchase, and willraffle, and do all sort of things to encourage the pensive performer. Iwill send them such lots of landscapes with sap-green trees, andmazareen-blue rivers, and portraits that will terrify the originalsthemselves--and handkerchiefs and turbans, with needlework scalloppedexactly like the walks on the Belvidere--Why, I shall become a littlefortune in the first season."
"No, Clara," said John, gravely, for a virtuous resolution had gainedthe upperhand in his bosom, while his sister ran on in this manner,--"Wewill do something better than all this. If this kind help of yours doesnot fetch me through, I am determined I will cut the whole concern. Itis but standing a laugh or two, and hearing a gay fellow say, D---- me,Jack, are you turned clodhopper at last?--that is the worst. Dogs,horses, and all, shall go to the hammer; we will keep nothing but yourpony, and I will trust to a pair of excellent legs. There is enough leftof the old acres to keep us in the way you like best, and that I willlearn to like. I will work in the garden, and work in the forest, markmy own trees, and cut them myself, keep my own accounts, and sendSaunders Meiklewham to the devil."
"That last is the best resolution of all, John," said Clara; "and ifsuch a day should come round, I should be the happiest of livingcreatures--I should not have a grief left in the world--if I had, youshould never see or hear of it--it should lie here," she said, pressingher hand on her bosom, "buried as deep as a funereal urn in a coldsepulchre. Oh! could we not begin such a life to-morrow? If it isabsolutely necessary that this trifle of money should be got rid offirst, throw it into the river, and think you have lost it amongstgamblers and horse-jockeys."
Clara's eyes, which she fondly fixed on her brother's face, glowedthrough the tears which her enthusiasm called into them, while she thusaddressed him. Mowbray, on his part, kept his looks fixed on the ground,with a flush on his cheek, that expressed at once false pride and realshame.
At length he looked up:--"My dear girl," he said, "how foolishly youtalk, and how foolis
hly I, that have twenty things to do, stand herelistening to you! All will go smooth on _my_ plan--if it should not, wehave yours in reserve, and I swear to you I will adopt it. The triflewhich this letter of yours enables me to command, may have luck in it,and we must not throw up the cards while we have a chance of thegame.--Were I to cut from this moment, these few hundreds would make uslittle better or little worse--so you see we have two strings to ourbow. Luck is sometimes against me, that is true--but upon trueprinciple, and playing on the square, I can manage the best of them, ormy name is not Mowbray. Adieu, my dearest Clara." So saying, he kissedher cheek with a more than usual degree of affection.
Ere he could raise himself from his stooping posture, she threw her armkindly over his neck, and said with a tone of the deepest interest, "Mydearest brother, your slightest wish has been, and ever shall be, a lawto me--Oh! if you would but grant me one request in return!"
"What is it, you silly girl?" said Mowbray, gently disengaging himselffrom her hold.--"What is it you can have to ask that needs such a solemnpreface?--Remember, I hate prefaces; and when I happen to open a book,always skip them."
"Without preface, then, my dearest brother, will you, for my sake, avoidthose quarrels in which the people yonder are eternally engaged? I nevergo down there but I hear of some new brawl; and I never lay my head downto sleep, but I dream that you are the victim of it. Even lastnight"----
"Nay, Clara, if you begin to tell your dreams, we shall never have done.Sleeping, to be sure, is the most serious employment of your life--foras to eating, you hardly match a sparrow; but I entreat you to sleepwithout dreaming, or to keep your visions to yourself.--Why do you keepsuch fast hold of me?--What on earth can you be afraid of?--Surely youdo not think the blockhead Binks, or any other of the good folks belowyonder, dared to turn on me? Egad, I wish they would pluck up a littlemettle, that I might have an excuse for drilling them. Gad, I would soonteach them to follow at heel."
"No, John," replied his sister; "it is not of such men as these that Ihave any fear--and yet, cowards are sometimes driven to desperation, andbecome more dangerous than better men--but it is not such as these thatI fear. But there are men in the world whose qualities are beyond theirseeming--whose spirit and courage lie hidden, like metals in the mine,under an unmarked or a plain exterior.--You may meet with such--you arerash and headlong, and apt to exercise your wit without always weighingconsequences, and thus"----
"On my word, Clara," answered Mowbray, "you are in a most sermonizinghumour this morning! the parson himself could not have been more logicalor profound. You have only to divide your discourse into heads, andgarnish it with conclusions for use, and conclusions for doctrine, andit might be preached before a whole presbytery, with every chance ofinstruction and edification. But I am a man of the world, my littleClara; and though I wish to go in death's way as little as possible, Imust not fear the raw-head and bloody-bones neither.--And who the devilis to put the question to me?--I must know that, Clara, for you havesome especial person in your eye when you bid me take care ofquarrelling."
Clara could not become paler than was her usual complexion; but hervoice faltered as she eagerly assured her brother, that she had noparticular person in her thoughts.
"Clara," said her brother, "do you remember, when there was a report ofa bogle[I-17] in the upper orchard, when we were both children?--Do youremember how you were perpetually telling me to take care of the bogle,and keep away from its haunts?--And do you remember my going on purposeto detect the bogle, finding the cow-boy, with a shirt about him, busiedin pulling pears, and treating him to a handsome drubbing?--I am thesame Jack Mowbray still, as ready to face danger, and unmask imposition;and your fears, Clara, will only make me watch more closely, till I findout the real object of them. If you warn me of quarrelling with someone, it must be because you know some one who is not unlikely to quarrelwith me. You are a flighty and fanciful girl, but you have sense enoughnot to trouble either yourself or me on a point of honour, save whenthere is some good reason for it."
Clara once more protested, and it was with the deepest anxiety to bebelieved, that what she had said arose only out of the generalconsequences which she apprehended from the line of conduct her brotherhad adopted, and which, in her apprehension, was so likely to engage himin the broils that divided the good company at the Spring. Mowbraylistened to her explanation with an air of doubt, or rather incredulity,sipped a cup of tea which had for some time been placed before him, andat length replied, "Well, Clara, whether I am right or wrong in myguess, it would be cruel to torment you any more, remembering what youhave just done for me. But do justice to your brother, and believe, thatwhen you have any thing to ask of him, an explicit declaration of yourwishes will answer your purpose much better than any ingenious obliqueattempts to influence me. Give up all thoughts of such, my dearClara--you are but a poor manoeuvrer, but were you the very Machiavelof your sex, you should not turn the flank of John Mowbray."
He left the room as he spoke, and did not return, though his sistertwice called upon him. It is true that she uttered the word brother sofaintly, that perhaps the sound did not reach his ears.--"He is gone,"she said, "and I have had no power to speak out! I am like the wretchedcreatures, who, it is said, lie under a potent charm, that prevents themalike from shedding tears and from confessing their crimes--Yes, thereis a spell on this unhappy heart, and either that must be dissolved, orthis must break."
FOOTNOTE:
[I-17] Bogle--in English, Goblin.
