The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  “But even greater caution will be necessary,” said Stanley. “Recollect that there are now two more ladies and a lady’s maid in the house.”

  “I am quite aware of it,” replied Sister Aline. “Lady Starkey’s unlooked-for arrival has suggested something to me. I have long and deeply desired an interview with her, in the hope of obtaining her forgiveness.”

  “I do not think she will grant you an interview,” replied Stanley, gravely. “It would be useless, therefore, to make the request.”

  “Nothing would induce me to intrude upon her,” said Sister Aline; “or even approach her — save with her permission. I will, therefore, dismiss the thought which I ought not, perhaps, to have indulged for a single moment. But when her name was mentioned to me, and I found she was here — in the same house — I could scarcely repress my desire to fling myself at her feet, and implore her forgiveness.”

  So much pain and contrition were depicted in the recluse’s countenance that Stanley was deeply moved.

  After reflecting for a few minutes, he said —

  “I have somewhat altered my mind. Perhaps another opportunity of an interview with Lady Starkey may not occur. I, therefore, advise you not to neglect it. Go to her room to-night. Minshull will show it you. It is the largest in the gallery. Pass through the dressing-room, and you will gain the other chamber without difficulty.”

  “I will go there at midnight,” replied Sister Aline eagerly.

  “And I trust you may be successful in your effort. Farewell!”

  And he hastily quitted the room.

  The party at Beaucliffe were greatly surprised at the tidings brought them by Stanley of the sudden arrival of Lady Starkey and her niece at Brereton Hall, as they had heard nothing whatever of any invitation being sent them.

  Perhaps Mildred and Lady Talmash were not altogether pleased, but the Squire was delighted, and at once proposed that Mrs. Brereton, with her guests, should be invited to dinner next day.

  “I shall be delighted to see them here,” he said, “And I sincerely hope they will come. In fact, I should like them to dine with us constantly while they are at Brereton “Not constantly, papa,” remarked Mildred. “That would be rather too much. I am not so very fond of Rose, and don’t think she particularly likes me.”

  “Oh! you are mistaken” cried Stanley. “She admires you greatly.”

  “My wish is to make Lady Starkey feel quite at home here,” said the Squire. “I should like her to come whenever she pleases, and bring her niece with her. I hope you won’t interfere.”

  “Certainly not,” replied Mildred. “I dare say we shall get on very well together.”

  “You’ll find Rose extremely amiable, I can assure you,” remarked Stanley. “But you must recollect she is a great invalid, and unequal to much exertion.”

  “All that shall be carefully considered,” rejoined Mildred. “I won’t suggest any long rides on horseback to her.”

  “She takes no horse exercise whatever,” said Stanley.

  “Such a life wouldn’t be worth living, in my opinion,” remarked Mildred.

  “One thing I must mention before I forget it,” said the Squire to Stanley. “Who do you think we saw this morning?”

  “Can’t tell,” replied the other.

  “Darcy,” replied the Squire. “We saw him near Knutsford.”

  “Indeed,” exclaimed Stanley, glancing at Lady Talmash. “Then his departure was only a pretence.”

  CHAPTER XXXVII.

  THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN LADY STARKEY AND SISTER ALINE.

  IT was near midnight, and Lady Starkey, who was somewhat fatigued with her journey, was fast asleep in the antique bed that adorned the principal room in the gallery at Brereton.

  Suddenly, some sound awoke her, and as a light was burning in the chamber, she became aware of a dark figure, in a religious dress, standing at the foot of the bed.

  For a few minutes she could not muster courage to address the supposed apparition, but at length she spoke.

  “Who and what are you?” she asked, in trembling accents, scarcely expecting an answer.

  “I have something to say to you,” replied the phantom, in low and almost unearthly tones.

  “Do you belong to the living or the dead?” said Lady Starkey.

  “I still belong to the living,” replied the figure, “but I have little to do with the world. Before I depart I would be at peace with all, and chiefly with you.”

  “Wherefore with me?” said Lady Starkey.

  “Because I have greatly wronged you,” replied Sister Aline, “and I cannot hope for rest or freedom from remorse till I obtain your forgiveness.”

  “What do I hear?” cried Lady Starkey. “Your words awaken thoughts in my breast that I would willingly banish. I only know one person who has done me great wrong, and that person I cannot forgive.”

  “Wherefore not?” said Sister Aline, in a supplicatory tone.

  “The injury is too great,” replied Lady Starkey, who now began to think she recognised the supposed spiritual visitant.

  “But I will make every atonement in my power,” cried Sister Aline. “No penance so severe that I will not perform.”

  “Pain and suffering on your part will not gratify me, for I seek not vengeance,” said Lady Starkey. “No torture I could inflict on you would be so exquisite as that you have inflicted on me. But that is past, and the wrong can never be redressed. You must seek for forgiveness from an all-merciful Judge. I would forgive you if I could. But I should merely pronounce words without meaning and without effect.”

  “Then you bid me depart,” cried Sister Aline, in accents of despair. “Give me, at least, a hope that you will not always withhold forgiveness from me.”

  “I can make no promise,” said Lady Starkey, coldly. “And I must forbid you ever to approach me again.”

  “Oh, say not so!” exclaimed Sister Aline.

  “Begone! Your presence troubles me,” said Lady Starkey.

  “I obey,” said Sister Aline. “But before I depart let me say that this step which has so much displeased you was counselled by Stanley Brereton.

  Furthermore, let me entreat you not to breathe a word concerning me to Mrs. Brereton till you have consulted with her son.”

  “So far I will comply with your request,” replied Lady Starkey. “But why are you here?”

  “In the hope of defeating the designs of a villain who would destroy the happiness of a lovely young creature. She has foolishly listened to him, but I still hope to save her.”

  “And you have come here with that object?”

  “With that object alone.”

  “Then I will willingly aid you.”

  “I think I can accomplish my purpose unaided. But should I fail I will leave the task to you.”

  “And I will not shrink from it,” said Lady Starkey. “I do not think I can be wrong in concluding that the dangerous villain you have referred to is Darcy?”

  “You have guessed rightly,” replied Sister Aline. “And the lovely creature for whom he has spread his snares is Stanley Brereton’s wife. But should you converse with her on the subject beware what you say, or you may cause irreparable mischief. The present moment is fraught with the greatest peril to the fair Mildred. But I still hope to save her.”

  Ere Lady Starkey could put another question, Sister Aline was gone.

  CHAPTER XXXVIII.

  MILDRED’S FLIGHT.

  WHEN Lady Starkey came down to breakfast next morning, both Mrs. Brereton and Rose were struck with her changed expression.

  She accounted for it by saying she had passed a very restless night, but there was an anxiety in her looks that did not seem merely caused by want of sleep.

  She was very careful not to say anything that might imply a doubt as to her belief in the perfect happiness of the young couple at Beaucliffe, but she could not help expressing surprise that they did not live at Brereton.

  “At first, Stanley was very much put out,” sai
d Mrs. Brereton; “but he now seems reconciled to the arrangement.”

  They had not long finished breakfast when the whole party came over from Beaucliffe, Mildred being brought by her father in order to give a general invitation to the ladies.

  Now that Lady Starkey had learnt the young wife’s secret she could not but regard her with the deepest interest, and hoped she might be exposed to no further danger.

  As to the fair creature whose thoughtless conduct occasioned so much anxiety among those around her, she seemed as gay and unconcerned as if she had not a care.

  She had ridden over that morning, and as nothing suited her so well as a riding habit, she was seen to the greatest advantage. Knowing what she did Lady Starkey regarded her with wonder. Could she be so thoughtless as she had been represented? Could she listen to such a man as Darcy?

  Lady Starkey thought it quite impossible, and began to doubt everything that had been told her to the lovely creature’s disadvantage.

  Nothing could be more agreeable than the manner in which Mildred delivered her father’s invitation to the two ladies. She told them he would always be delighted to see them at Beaucliffe, and begged them to come whenever they felt inclined.

  A manner like this could not fail to produce a favourable impression. Lady Starkey was charmed with her.

  At length an opportunity occurred for a little private converse between Lady Starkey and Lady Talmash. Mildred and Rose had disappeared, and the Squire was sitting with Mrs. Brereton in the library. The two first-mentioned ladies were walking in the garden, when Lady Starkey said —

  “Captain Darcy has been at Beaucliffe lately, has he not? What has become of him? He has not returned to town.”

  “I thought he was gone,” replied Lady Talmash. “But we saw him yesterday, while we were riding out near Knutsford.”

  “What can he be doing here?” remarked Lady Starkey, looking inquiringly at her.

  “I really cannot tell” replied Lady Talmash. “No good, I’m afraid. But it seems necessary I should inform your ladyship that he paid a great deal too much attention to Stanley’s charming wife, and I was obliged to speak to him on the subject.”

  “Did he attend to the hint?”

  “He did; he immediately left the house, and promised not to trouble us again. But he is here still, as I have said.”

  “That is very vexatious,” said Lady Starkey.

  “At any cost we must get rid of him,” cried Lady Talmash. “He cannot be allowed to remain here.”

  “Is there any danger in his presence, think you?” asked Lady Starkey.

  “A great deal,” replied Lady Talmash. “He has fallen desperately in love with Mildred, and will not abandon the pursuit.”

  “But you don’t think she would be led away by him?” cried Lady Starkey, looking aghast.

  “She’s so very thoughtless that she might take the fatal step without reflecting on its consequences. Were she to do so I think she would kill her excellent father.”

  “She must never be allowed to take that step,” said Lady Starkey. “Rather than run the risk of such a sad mischance, I will warn Mr. Warburton.”

  “That will be useless. He will never believe in the danger, though it is palpable to everyone else. And Stanley is just as blind. The mischief will be done before they are aware of it.”

  “I must now tell you that since I came here I have met a person who undertakes to free us from this great danger,” said Lady Starkey.

  “Is it a woman?” asked Lady Talmash.

  “It is.”

  “She overrates her power. Darcy can only be driven hence by Stanley.”

  “Here he comes,” said Lady Starkey, as Stanley entered the garden. “We have been talking over your affairs,” she added to him, “and have come to the conclusion that you must act energetically.”

  “What would you have me do?” he asked.

  “Drive Darcy from this neighbourhood,” she replied.

  “I will, if I can find him,” he said. “But where is he?”

  “Somewhere near Knutsford. You must make inquiries.”

  “I will do so to-morrow.”

  “Why not to-day?” demanded Lady Talmash.

  “Because I expect some assistance will be rendered me, and I may do more harm than good if I am too precipitate.”

  “Where is your wife?” asked Lady Talmash. “I don’t see her in the garden.”

  “Most likely she is at the stables,” replied Stanley.

  “Let us go thither,” said Lady Talmash.

  Accordingly, they quitted the garden and went towards the stables, but as they were proceeding thither, they met a groom, who told them that about half an hour before, Mrs. Stanley Brereton had mounted her horse, and ridden back by herself to Beaucliffe.

  “Indeed!” exclaimed Stanley, surprised. “Did no one attend her?”

  “No, sir,” replied the groom. “I offered to go with her myself, but she declined.”

  “This is strange!” said Lady Talmash, “Very strange, I should think,” cried Lady Starkey. And she added in a low tone to Stanley, “You ought to follow, and look after her.”

  “She would not be pleased if I did,” he replied.

  “This is an unusual circumstance,” said Lady Starkey. “You can’t tell what has happened. It’s your duty to go.”

  “Well, if your ladyship entertains that opinion, I’ll set off at once,” he replied; “though I’m sure she’ll be displeased with me. Here, Tom,” he added to the groom, “saddle my horse, and bring him out at once.”

  The groom went immediately to the stables, “I can’t help suspecting something,” whispered Lady Talmash to the other. “I haven’t a horse here today, or I’d gallop over myself.”

  In another minute the groom came out, and Stanley sprang on the horse.

  “I shall be back very shortly,” he said, as he dashed off, “and I hope to bring you word that all’s right.”

  As he turned round he saw they were watching him, and being now excited, he galloped all the way to Beaucliffe.

  On arriving there he began to feel rather foolish, thinking Mildred would laugh at him; but when he entered the courtyard he found two or three servants there, and inquired whether his wife had returned. To his great surprise, they replied in the negative.

  Not wishing to excite their curiosity, he made some slight observation, and then started back again as quickly as he had come.

  Both ladies were still standing near the stables, and they guessed from his looks what had happened.

  “I see you have not found her,” cried Lady Talmash, running to meet him. “Depend upon it, she is gone.”

  “No doubt of it,” said Lady Starkey. “Of course you will start instantly in pursuit.”

  “Whither shall I go?” he asked with a distracted look.

  “To Knutsford,” replied Lady Talmash. “You will learn something there.”

  “I have very little hope of finding her,” he rejoined. “But, till you see me again, say not a word about her flight to Mr. Warburton or my mother.”

  “Your injunctions shall be strictly attended to, and we pray that you may be successful,” said Lady Talmash.

  Dashing through the gate which had been left open, Stanley galloped off, nor did he slacken his pace in the slightest degree till he reached Knutsford.

  On entering the town, he rode at once to the Angel Inn, and inquired for Captain Darcy, but could learn nothing of him. The Captain had left on the previous day, and was most probably gone to London. Stanley next asked whether Mrs. Stanley Brereton had been there that morning, and was told that she had not.

  Moreover, the landlord felt quite certain that she had not been in Knutsford that day. Had it been otherwise, he or his wife or some of his establishment must infallibly have seen her.

  Stanley made many further inquiries, but none that led to any satisfactory result.

  He next proceeded to the railway station, and found that several persons had travelled by
Crewe to Euston Station, but whether Darcy and Mildred were among them, he could not ascertain. Certain it was that he had lost all trace of them for the present For nearly two hours he remained in Knutsford, and employed his time in sending telegraphic messages in different directions, but they brought him no serviceable information. In fact, as time went on, he became more and more convinced that his wife was gone. How her father would hear the dreadful truth when presented to him, he did not dare to think.

  Only by a great effort could Stanley prevail upon himself to return to Brereton. He quite dreaded the painful interview he must of necessity have with the Squire, and now regretted that he had not entrusted the task to the two ladies.

  The worthy old gentleman had been lingering at Brereton in the expectation that his darling daughter would join him there; but as time went on, and she did not return, he became exceedingly uneasy, and his anxiety increased, because he could obtain no satisfactory explanation from Lady Starkey or Lady Talmash. Mindful of their promise to Stanley, they did not even hint to him that she might be gone, and he seemed to suspect nothing. Mrs. Brereton and Rose were equally unsuspicious, and sat quietly conversing together in the library.

  When Stanley returned from Knutsford the Squire was in the entrance hall, and immediately called out, “Where have you left your wife? Where is she, I say?”

  Stanley made no direct reply, but begged him to come into the dining-room, and as he complied closed the door.

  “Now, what the deuce is the matter?” he asked.

  “I must beg you to summon all your firmness, sir,” said Stanley.

  “You alarm me,” rejoined Mr. Warburton, whose countenance expressed great anxiety. “Tell me at once what has occurred.”

  “My desire is to spare you all possible pain, sir,” said Stanley. “But you must learn the truth.”

  “Of course,” rejoined the old gentleman, growing impatient. “What is it?”

  “Well, then, I am obliged to inform you that your daughter is gone.”

  “Gone!” exclaimed the Squire, scarcely able to realise the terrible truth.

  “Yes,” she has left us both. “She has gone away with Darcy.”