The Complete Northanger Horrid Novel Collection (9 Books of Gothic Romance and Horror)

by Eliza Parsons

  CHAPTER V

  Canst thou not minister to minds diseas'd.

  Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow.

  Raze out the written troubles of the brain.

  And with some sweet oblivious antidote.

  Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff

  That weighs upon the heart

  —SHAKESPEARE

  Julie de Rubine was descended from an ancient and illustrious family, long resident in the southern part of France. Her father's name was Gerard, who was the only son of St Herbert de Rubine. He had entered at an early period of life into the service of his country, and signalized himself in the victorious battles of Henry the Third; but not receiving from this Monarch those honours which he considered as the just reward of his valour, he abandoned the Court and the sword together, and retired, with an amiable wife and his only daughter, to a chateau on a small paternal estate in the province of Artois.

  Nothing could be more congenial to the disposition of Madame de Rubine than the sequestered situation of this beautiful retreat. The chateau was of Gothic construction, and seemed to have withstood the attacks of ages; but the northern side of the edifice was now visibly falling to decay, and St Gerard's mind was entirely occupied by endeavouring to make this part of the structure habitable, without destroying that appearance of ancient simplicity which formed its most striking beauty; but when this was completed, and the ardour of pursuit was over, he again experienced all that chagrin and restless dissatisfaction, which is too often the consequence of disappointed ambition.

  This change Madame de Rubine beheld with extreme regret, and attempted to remove the cause with all the tenderness of a refined and inviolable affection, hoping, by the example of her own exemplary piety, she might be enabled to elevate his mind above the trifling consideration of worldly dignities; but she knew not all the distresses of the unfortunate Gerard. Previous to his seclusion from the gay circles of life he had contracted debts, that the narrowness of his annual income, which he had long vainly hoped to increase, rendered impossible to discharge; and the solicitude he felt in behalf of his amiable wife, had imprudently confined the secret to his own bosom.

  He had no sooner quitted Paris than he received a letter from his principal creditor, demanding the immediate payment of a large sum. This event determined him to write to Madame Laronne, his only sister, who had been some years a widow, and was left in affluent circumstances, to acquaint her with the embarrassed situation of his affairs, and also to request the loan of a sum sufficient to discharge the debt.

  But here his too sanguine expectations were again deceived Madame Laronne assured him, that had it been possible, nothing would have contributed more to her happiness than to have given him a proof of her regard by affording pecuniary assistance; but the stile of elegance, to which she had been accustomed, was now become necessary to her happiness; and her expenses were lately so considerably increased, that she was sorry to add she must endure the painful sensation which refusing his request would inevitably excite.

  Grief and resentment, the natural consequence of unexpected ingratitude, now agitated the mind of the astonished Gerard. He knew that Madame Laronne's rank in life, and also her ambition, required the ostentatious display of wealth and grandeur; but he was also convinced that, without materially injuring herself, she had it sufficiently in her power immediately to relieve his necessities. When the mingled emotions of indignation and anguish had, in some measure, subsided, he seemed to have lost all his energy of soul; nothing bestowed even a transitory pleasure, and he sunk into the most alarming melancholy! Not even the conversation of Madame de Rubine, nor the undeviating gentleness of her manners, could for a moment withdraw his thoughts from the painful contemplation of his real and imaginary distresses. That smile of affection, and that look of sentiment, which once cherished his vivacity, and rewarded her tenderness, was now lost in the gloom of disappointment, disgust, and anguish.

  Julie, having now entered upon her thirteenth year, was remarkably tall of her age, and elegant in her person. Her disposition was mild, frank, and benevolent; and she united, with admirable discretion the unadorned graces of youth, with the uniform sedateness of maturer years. In obedience to the will of her father she had learned to play upon the lute, and her voice, which was exquisitely sweet, was perfectly adapted to the soft and plaintive tones of that charming instrument. During the few first months of their residence at the chateau, St Gerard frequently rambled with her by moon-light through the beautiful woods, and sometimes over the fine range of hills which appeared so picturesque from the chateau; where he would desire her to play one of his favourite airs, selected from the sonnets of Ariosto, or expressing the melting sorrows of Petrarch.

  The look of settled despondency which was so strongly portrayed on the features of the unfortunate veteran, when his new situation no longer afforded amusement and variety, did not remain unobserved by his amiable daughter, who exerted herself unceasingly to remove it by the sprightliness of her wit, the melody of her voice, or the soft pathos of her lute; but his mind, enervated by sorrow, was no longer alive to the fine touches of harmony; and frequently, in the midst of one of his favourite songs, to which he had formerly listened with all the rapture of enthusiasm, he would start as from a dream, and hasten from the room as if agitated by the appearance of some frightful demon.

  His constitution, which in the early part of his life had suffered much from the severity of military discipline, now became visibly impaired; the disorder of his mind daily increased; melancholy became habitual to him, and so rapid was the progress it made in undermining his health, that Madame de Rubine began to be seriously alarmed. Advice was immediately procured, and change of air prescribed; but not to quit the chateau was the unalterable determination of Gerard. A nervous fever was the consequence of this resolution, which in a short time terminated his existence.