“And in this regal ornament,” said Mrs. Edwards, placing a circlet adorned with balas rubies, table diamonds, and emeralds on her brows.
“There! doesn’t she look charming?” cried Edith, clapping her hands with delight.
“Charming, indeed!” echoed Mr. Edwards.
“Take them off, my child,” said Parson Price. “Your foolish head will be turned.”
“Let her keep them on for a few minutes,” interposed Edwards. “They suit her remarkably well.”
“Ay, but they fill her mind with pride.”
“Nonsense, father. You are always preaching to me. I like the sensation of wearing them immensely.”
““a thousand pities there is no one to see you in them besides ourselves, cousin,” cried Edith.
Scarcely was utterance given to the wish, than the door opened, and the Count de Bellegarde stood before them.
CHAPTER IX
WINEFRED BECOMES JEALOUS OF EDITH
He seemed charmed by the picture presented to his gaze.
“Trying the effect of the jewels, eh?” he exclaimed. “May I be permitted to assist at the experiment?”
“Certainly,” replied Edith, laughing. ““the Count de Bellegarde, father,” she added, in a whisper.
Then, turning to the count, she explained that they were exhibiting the treasures to their Welsh cousins.
Bellegarde begged to be presented to the cousins, and quite captivated Parson Price by his politeness and affability.
“What a charming man!” whispered the parson to Edwards.
“Belongs to the court; came here yesterday, with their majesties,” replied the other, in a low tone.
“Seems to be struck with your daughter,” remarked the parson. “No wonder. She is a great beauty.”
A further essay was now made at the count’s request, and this time a gold collar set with three sapphires, and having ten knots of round pearls, was linked round Edith’s snowy neck, while her golden tresses were crowned by another jewelled circlet.
Thus adorned, she looked surpassingly beautiful, and the count’s admiration was so ardently expressed that it excited a pang of jealousy in Winefred’s bosom.
The feeling was heightened by the undisguised delight with which his praises were received by Edith.
The vain little coquette was so much flattered that she was quite willing to try on some other ornaments.
“What’s the matter, my child?” cried Parson Price, noticing his daughter’s agitation.
“I don’t know, father,” she replied; “but I feel rather faint. I think I had better leave the room.”
In an instant all was confusion. Totally unsuspicious of the truth, Edith hastily laid down the jewels she was about to try on, and flew to her cousin, who looked excessively pale, and ready to drop, and, with Mrs. Edwards’s assistance, helped her out of the room.
Both Bellegarde and the old custodian expressed their concern to Parson Price, but he treated the matter very lightly.
“A mere passing indisposition,” he said. “She will be quite well anon.”
However, the Count de Bellegarde, who quite understood what was the matter with her, and feared that the success of the scheme might be jeopardized by some contretemps, thought it prudent to take his departure. Accordingly, he made his bow to the old custodian, promising to pay him another visit ere long.
A glance from Parson Price showed that he entirely approved of this step.
Just as Bellegarde was leaving, he met Edith, coming out of the lower chamber.
“Are you going, count?” she exclaimed, with a look of disappointment. “My poor cousin Winefred has frightened you away. She is better now. Am I ever to see you again?”
“You will certainly see me when I am next at the Tower.”
“And when is that likely to be?”
“Not just yet. I should alarm your father if I appeared again too soon.”
“You need not come to the Jewel Tower. I always take an evening walk on the ramparts.”
“Then I may possibly find you there to-morrow evening. Adieu!”
Scarcely was he gone, when the old custodian and Parson Price issued from the jewel-chamber. Having carefully locked the door, Edwards thrust the key into his girdle.
“Are you never afraid of being robbed, my dear cousin?” asked the parson, innocently.
“No,” replied Edwards. “He must be a bold man and a cunning, who would attempt to plunder the Jewel Tower.”
Parson Price smiled to himself at the remark.
The parson and his daughter did not stay much longer, though pressed to do so by their hospitable relatives; but Price promised his cousin Edwards to come again next day, and bring with him two young gentlemen from Caermarthen.
“One of them,” he added, in a whisper, “is engaged to Winefred, but the other would be eligible as a suitor to Edith.”
Edith and her mother accompanied their newly-found relatives to the Tower Wharf, where the latter took a boat to the Temple Stairs, their lodgings being in the Strand.
But the silly coquette made her cousin perfectly wretched by confiding to her, as they proceeded to the place of embarkation, that she was about to meet the gallant Count de Bellegarde on the ramparts on the following evening.
Poor Winefred felt again ready to drop.
CHAPTER X
JENKIN PUGH AND CADWALLADER GRIFFITH
Parson Price was not long in paying another visit to his dear cousins at the Jewel Tower.
Next afternoon, he appeared again, and brought with him, according to his promise, two good-looking young gallants, whom he introduced as Jenkin Pugh and Cadwallader Griffith, both of Caermarthen.
Jenkin, he privately informed the old couple, was engaged to Winefred; but Cadwallader was on his preferment, and being, as they saw, tall and proper, with two or three hundred a year in land at Abergwilly, in Caermarthenshire, and owner, moreover, of Merlin’s Cave, he would make a very suitable match, he thought, for Edith.
This information produced the desired effect on the old custodian and his wife, especially when they perceived that the inflammable young Welshman was struck at once by the charms of their golden-haired daughter, and did not attempt to disguise his feelings, but paid her most assiduous attention. He met with no discouragement from Edith, who had heard from her mother of the three hundred a year in land and Merlin’s Cave.
Cadwallader, we may mention, was no other than Montalt, while Jenkin bore a strong resemblance to a certain Flodoard. Both were very gaily attired.
Further to propitiate the ladies of the Jewel Tower, Parson Price had brought them some little presents — a few pairs of gloves, and some perfumes for Edith, with a partlet and hood for her mother.
Naturally, they both expressed great regret that Winefred had been left behind; but Parson Price explained that his daughter was not very strong, and needed repose. She would come on some early day.
Everything went on prosperously. Neither of the young gallants was in the slightest degree bashful, but rattled away gaily, and seemed to know a good deal about town life. Now and then a glance from the parson checked them, when they were displaying rather too intimate an acquaintance with the gaming-tables.
As a matter of course, they were shown the Crown jewels, and while enjoying the exhibition, they cautiously examined the chamber, as their leader had done on the previous day.
It was here that Cadwallader seized the opportunity of describing Merlin’s Cave.
“Merlin, as you are aware,” he said, “was a great enchanter, and performed his incantations in that wonderful cave, which now belongs to me. In fact, I have reason to believe that I am a descendant of the renowned magician.”
“We should never take you for a conjuror, my dear Cad,” remarked Parson Price, good-humoredly. “What has Merlin’s Cave got to do with these jewels?”
“A great deal, as you shall hear, sir,” replied Cadwallader. ““said, and I devoutly believe the legend, that countless
treasures were buried in that cave by Merlin — great chests of gold, blood-red rubies of enormous size, diamonds that would outshine the stars, and emeralds to which that in the crown of state would be a tiny pebble. All these treasures, the legend says, are buried in the cave, and guarded by a potent spell, and unless that spell can be broken they will never be discovered. I have tried “and all kinds of magical words, but have not succeeded. Still, I do not despair. They say the spell can only be dissolved by a virgin with a skin as white as snow, and locks glowing like gold — But then she must be a native of Wales.”
“Bless me!” exclaimed Edith, “that seems to answer to my description. I won’t say anything about my complexion, but my tresses—”
“Are as bright as gold,” interrupted Cadwallader, gallantly. “You have all the requisite qualifications. Clearly, you are the virgin who could break the spell, and bring to light the treasure that has been hidden for centuries.”
“I should like to try,” she cried.
“You shall try,” exclaimed Cadwallader, with a fervor that almost amounted to a declaration, and made Edith blush and cast down her eyes.
Parson Price chuckled internally, and old Edwards winked at his wife, who looked very well pleased.
From this moment, the young Welshman’s suit made very rapid progress. In some cases, the first step is the only difficulty. Edith was so dazzled by the idea of Merlin’s Cave, that she could think of nothing else.
No wonder, after such an auspicious commencement, that the old custodian would not hear of parting with his guests, but insisted on their staying to supper. As an inducement he promised them a dish of toasted cheese, cooked in the true Welsh style, and this they could not resist.
Edith had not forgotten her appointment with the Count de Bellegarde, but she felt it would now be difficult to keep it. However, when evening came on, she contrived to escape from the company, and unlocking a small door at the back of the tower, communicating with the outer ward, speedily gained the ramparts. A sentinel was pacing to and fro. The count was true to his appointment. Perceiving him at a little distance, she flew towards him, and told him hurriedly that their interview must be very brief.
“I would not seek to detain you, were you able to stay,” replied the count. “We are watched.”
“Watched! by whom?” cried Edith. “My father and mother are in-doors with their guests. I have just left them.”
“Look there!” replied the count, drawing her attention to a female figure standing near the bastion at the northeast angle of the walls. “She is watching us.”
“Can it be my cousin Winefred? I was foolish enough to tell her of my appointment with you this evening.”
““she,” replied Bellegarde.
“There is nothing to fear from her,” said Edith.
“What is she doing here, unless she means mischief?”
“Very true,” responded Edith. “We must not meet again, count. I haven’t time to explain, but circumstances have occurred—”
“You have found a new lover — that’s it. What key is that?” he added, noticing that she had one in her hand.
“This key enabled me to get out of the Jewel Tower unperceived,” she replied, with an arch smile.
“It would enable me to get in in the same way. Lend it me.”
“Not for worlds,” she replied. “My father would never forgive me if he knew I had taken it.”
Bidding him a hasty adieu, Edith now tripped off; and almost at the same moment, the female figure that had remained stationary near the bastion disappeared.
No remark was made on Edith’s brief absence, and soon afterwards a plentiful supper was served.
Before they sat down to it, Parson Price did not neglect to say grace. With the promised toasted cheese, which proved to be excellent, and was greatly enjoyed by all the guests, a black jack filled with potent Welsh ale was sent round. The parson took a hearty pull at it.
They were in the midst of their enjoyment — Parson Price was chatting merrily with Mrs. Edwards, and Cadwallader was whispering soft words to Edith, — when a female servant entered, and delivered a little note to her master.
“What can it mean?” cried the old custodian, glancing at the letter. —
“Let me look at it, father,” cried Edith, who was not without some uneasiness on her own account.
Snatching the letter from him, she opened it, and cast a hasty glance at its contents.
“What is it?” demanded Edwards.
“A warning to you, father,” she replied.
“A warning! Let me hear it.”
The parson and his associates exchanged covert looks.
They were not left long in suspense, for Edith read the letter aloud. It ran as follows:
“A plot has been formed against you. Beware, or you will lose that which you value more than life.”
“This, from a friend.”
“Who could plot against me?” cried Edwards, with a look of consternation that was reflected on his wife’s countenance.
“Who, indeed, my dear cousin?” cried Parson Price, scarcely able to conceal his uneasiness. “You don’t suspect me?”
“No, no, no!” cried the old custodian. “I suspect nobody. I don’t know what to think. What I value more than life must be—”
“Your daughter, of course, sir,” interposed Cadwallader.
“No — my jewels,” cried the old man. “I would die twenty deaths rather than lose them.”
“Don’t make yourself uneasy, father,” said Edith. “I can explain the meaning of the letter. It refers to me. The writer fancies you love me better than your treasures, and that it would break your heart to lose me.”
“I hope your worthy father does not mean to keep you forever,” cried Cadwallader. “If so, I unhesitatingly announce my intention of robbing him. All the locks and bolts he can place on the doors of this tower shall not deter me from making the attempt.”
General laughter followed this speech, the boldness of which did not displease the old custodian, who had been reassured by his daughter’s observations. He felt she had something to explain, but this was not the time to ask for further explanation.
Parson Price saw that the danger was past, and, though secretly enraged by the incident, maintained a semblance of good humor. Cadwallader continued his addresses to Edith.
Mulled sack was introduced by Mrs. Edwards, and the rest of the evening passed away merrily.
Good hours are kept at the Tower, and the tattoo of a drum informed the guests it was time to depart.
While Parson Price was taking leave of his host, he observed, in a whisper, “Take my advice, my dear cousin; strike while the iron is hot. If you are satisfied with the suitor I have found for your daughter, don’t let him slip through your fingers.”
Old Edwards incontinently acted on the hint, and the parson and his young friends were asked to come again on the morrow.
CHAPTER XI
WHAT PASSED BETWEEN WINEFRED AND TALBOT HARLAND
The person who had delivered the letter, of which mention has just been made, was the warder Kenelm. He was standing beneath the trees that skirted the parade, with some of his companions, when a young damsel, whom he at once recognized as Parson Price’s lovely Winefred, came up to him, and begged him to take a letter for her to the Jewel Tower, giving him a douceur at the same time.
Though rather surprised, the warder asked no questions, but went immediately on the errand.
Winefred was hastening towards the gateway of the Bloody Tower, when she heard quick footsteps behind her, and, turning at the sound, beheld Talbot Harland. The young man had been dining with his uncle, Sir Gilbert Talbot, who had lodgings in the Tower; and, having seen the young damsel give the letter to the warder, had followed her. He knew her only as Farmer Oldacre’s daughter Violet, and there was a mystery about her and her proceedings that excited his curiosity.
“Give you good-e’en, fair damsel,” he cried. “I am glad to see you
again — but I did not expect to find you here.”
“Do not detain me, sir,” she rejoined. “My business here is done, and I am anxious to get away.”
“One moment, and you shall go. “strange I should meet you. Miss Neville caught sight of you the other day on the river, and has spoken of you frequently since. She was in the royal barge.”
“I saw her.”
“She takes much interest in you, and will be pleased to hear of you. Have you any message for her?”
“None,” she replied, with a troubled look. “She had better think no more of me. I am unworthy of her regard.’’ “I will not tell her what you say, for I do not believe it. Sit down for a moment on this bench. You seem agitated.’’ The young damsel felt so faint, that she was forced to comply. Talbot sat down beside her. For a brief space, not a word was said.
“I should like to see Miss Neville-once more,” said the young damsel, breaking the silence. “I am in a most difficult position, and know not how to act for the best. She might advise me. I have no other friend on earth.”
“Not your father?” cried Talbot.
“I cannot consult him,” she rejoined. “I have something to reveal to Miss Neville — something strange — something terrible. But I must see her without delay, or it will be too late to prevent the mischief.”
“Come, then, to Whitehall to-morrow morning. You will easily find her apartments. They are in the gallery assigned to the queen’s maids of honor. I will prepare her for the interview.”
“I will come, if I can. Should I be prevented, and aught happen, entreat her to judge me as kindly as she can.”
“Why not impart the secret to me? I swear to you I will keep it.”
“It concerns others beside myself — others whom I will never betray. I will confide it only to Dorinda Neville.”
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 605
