A Simple Story

by Mrs. Inchbald

  CHAPTER XIV.

  Although Miss Milner had not foreseen any fatal event resulting from theindignity offered to Lord Frederick, yet she passed a night verydifferent from those to which she had been accustomed. No sooner was shefalling into a sleep, than a thousand vague, but distressing, ideasdarted across her imagination. Her heart would sometimes whisper to herwhen she was half asleep, "Lord Frederick is banished from you forever." She shakes off the uneasiness this idea brings along with it--shethen starts, and sees the blow still aimed at him by Dorriforth. Nosooner has she driven away this painful image, than she is againawakened by beholding her guardian at her feet sueing for pardon. Shesighs, she trembles, and is chilled with terror.

  Relieved by tears, towards the morning she sinks into a slumber, butwaking, finds the same images crowding all together upon her mind: sheis doubtful to which to give the preference--one, however, rushes theforemost, and continues so. She knows not the fatal consequence ofruminating, nor why she dwells upon that, more than upon all the rest,but it will give place to none.

  She rises languid and disordered, and at breakfast, adds fresh pain toDorriforth by her altered appearance.

  He had scarce left the room, when an officer waited upon him with achallenge from Lord Frederick. To the message delivered by thisgentleman, he replied,

  "Sir, as a clergyman, more especially of the church of Rome, I know notwhether I am not exempt from answering a demand of this kind; but nothaving had forbearance to avoid an offence, I will not claim anexemption that would only indemnify me from making reparation."

  "You will then, Sir, meet Lord Frederick at the appointed hour?" saidthe officer.

  "I will, Sir; and my immediate care shall be to find a gentleman whowill accompany me."

  The officer withdrew, and when Dorriforth was again alone, he was goingonce more to reflect, but he durst not. Since yesterday, reflection, forthe first time, was become painful to him; and even as he rode the shortway to Lord Elmwood's immediately after, he found his own thoughts wereso insufferable, that he was obliged to enter into conversation with hisservant. Solitude, that formerly charmed him, would, at those moments,have been worse than death.

  At Lord Elmwood's, he met Sandford in the hall, and the sight of him wasno longer welcome--he knew how different the principles which he had justadopted were to those of that reverend friend, and without hiscomplaining, or even suspecting what had happened, his presence was asufficient reproach. He passed him as hastily as he could, and enquiringfor Lord Elmwood, disclosed to him his errand. It was to ask him to behis second;--the young Earl started, and wished to consult his tutor, butthat, his kinsman strictly forbade; and having urged his reasons witharguments, which at least _he_ could not refute, he was at lengthprevailed upon to promise that he would accompany him to the field,which was at the distance only of a few miles, and the parties were tobe there at seven on the same evening.

  As soon as his business with Lord Elmwood was settled, Dorriforthreturned home, to make preparations for the event which might ensue fromthis meeting. He wrote letters to several of his friends, and one to hisward, in writing which, he could with difficulty preserve the usualfirmness of his mind. Sandford going into Lord Elmwood's library soonafter his relation had left him, expressed his surprise at finding hewas gone; upon which that nobleman having answered a few questions, andgiven a few significant hints that he was entrusted with a secret,frankly confessed, what he had promised to conceal.

  Sandford, as much as a holy man could be, was enraged at Dorriforth forthe cause of the challenge, but was still more enraged at his wickednessin accepting it. He applauded his pupil's virtue in making thediscovery, and congratulated himself that he should be the instrumentof saving not only his friend's life, but of preventing the scandal ofhis being engaged in a duel.

  In the ardour of his designs, he went immediately to MissMilner's--entered that house which he had so long refused to enter, andat a time when he was upon aggravated bad terms with its owner.

  He asked for Dorriforth, went hastily into his apartment, and pouredupon him a torrent of rebukes. Dorriforth bore all he said with thepatience of a devotee, but with the firmness of a man. He owned hisfault, but no eloquence could make him recall the promise he had givento repair the injury. Unshaken by the arguments, persuasions, andmenaces of Sandford, he gave an additional proof of that inflexibilityfor which he had been long distinguished--and after a dispute of twohours, they parted, neither of them the better for what either hadadvanced, but Dorriforth something the worse; his conscience gavetestimony to Sandford's opinion, "that he was bound by ties more sacredthan worldly honour." But while he owned, he would not yield to theduty.

  Sandford left him, determined, however, that Lord Elmwood should not beaccessory in his guilt, and this he declared; upon which Dorriforth tookthe resolution of seeking another second.

  In passing through the house on his return home, Sandford met, byaccident, Mrs. Horton, Miss Milner, and the other two ladies returningfrom a saunter in the garden. Surprised at the sight of Mr. Sandford inher house, Miss Milner would not express that surprise, but going up tohim with all the friendly benevolence which in general played about herheart, she took hold of one of his hands, and pressed it with a kindnesswhich told him more forcibly that he was welcome, than if she had madethe most elaborate speech to convince him of it. He, however, seemedlittle touched with her behaviour, and as an excuse for breaking hisword, cried,

  "I beg your pardon, madam, but I was brought hither in my anxiety toprevent murder."

  "Murder!" exclaimed all the ladies.

  "Yes," answered he, addressing himself to Miss Fenton, "your betrothedhusband is a party concerned; he is going to be second to Mr.Dorriforth, who means this very evening to be killed by my LordFrederick, or to kill him, in addition to the blow that he gave him lastnight."

  Mrs. Horton exclaimed, "if Mr. Dorriforth dies, he dies a martyr."

  Miss Woodley cried with fervour, "Heaven forbid!"

  Miss Fenton cried, "dear me!"

  While Miss Milner, without uttering one word, sunk speechless on thefloor.

  They lifted her up and brought her to the door which entered into thegarden. She soon recovered; for the tumult of her mind would not sufferher to remain inactive, and she was rouzed, in spite of her weakness, toendeavour to ward off the impending disaster. In vain, however, sheattempted to walk to her guardian's apartment--she sunk as before, andwas taken to a settee, while Miss Woodley was dispatched to bring him toher.

  Informed of the cause of her indisposition, he followed Miss Woodleywith a tender anxiety for her health, and with grief and confusion thathe had so carelessly endangered it. On his entering the room Sandfordbeheld the inquietude of his mind, and cried, "Here is your _Guardian_,"with a cruel emphasis on the word.

  He was too much engaged by the sufferings of his ward to reply toSandford. He placed himself on the settee by her, and with the utmosttenderness, reverence, and pity, entreated her not to be concerned at anaccident in which he, and he alone, had been to blame; but which he hadno doubt would be accommodated in the most amicable manner.

  "I have one favour to require of you, Mr. Dorriforth," said she, "andthat is, your promise, your solemn promise, which I know is ever sacred,that you will not meet my Lord Frederick."

  He hesitated.

  "Oh, Madam," cried Sandford, "he is grown a libertine now, and I wouldnot believe his word, if he were to give it you."

  "Then, Sir," returned Dorriforth angrily, "you _may_ believe my word,for I will keep that which I gave to _you._ I will give Lord Frederickall the restitution in my power. But my dear Miss Milner, let not thisalarm you; we may not find it convenient to meet this many a day; andmost probably some fortunate explanation may prevent our meeting at all.If not, reckon but among the many duels that are fought, how few arefatal: and even in that case, how small would be the loss to society,if----" He was proceeding.

  "I should ever deplore the loss!" cried Miss Milner; "on such ano
ccasion, I could not survive the death of either."

  "For my part," he replied, "I look upon my life as much forfeited to myLord Frederick, to whom I have given a high offence, as it might inother instances have been forfeited to the offended laws of the land.Honour, is the law of the polite part of the land; we know it; and whenwe transgress against it knowingly, we justly incur our punishment.However, Miss Milner, this affair will not be settled immediately, and Ihave no doubt, but that all will be as you could wish. Do you think Ishould appear thus easy," added he with a smile, "if I were going to beshot at by my Lord Frederick?"

  "Very well!" cried Sandford, with a look that evinced he was betterinformed.

  "You will stay within then, all this day?" said Miss Milner.

  "I am engaged to dinner," he replied; "it is unlucky--I am sorry forit--but I'll be at home early in the evening."

  "Stained with human blood," cried Sandford, "or yourself a corpse."

  The ladies lifted up their hands!--Miss Milner rose from her seat, andthrew herself at her guardian's feet.

  "You kneeled to me last night, I now kneel to you," (she cried) "kneel,never desiring to rise again, if you persist in your intention. I amweak, I am volatile, I am indiscreet, but I have a heart from whichsome impressions can never--oh! never, be erased."

  He endeavoured to raise her, she persisted to kneel--and here theaffright, the terror, the anguish, she endured, discovered to her, herown sentiments--which, till that moment, she had doubted--and shecontinued,

  "I no longer pretend to conceal my passion--I love Lord FrederickLawnly."

  Her guardian started.

  "Yes, to my shame I love him:" (cried she, all emotion) "I meant to havestruggled with the weakness, because I supposed it would be displeasingto you--but apprehension for his safety has taken away every power ofrestraint, and I beseech you to spare his life."

  "This is exactly what I thought," cried Sandford, with an air oftriumph.

  "Good heaven!" cried Miss Woodley.

  "But it is very natural," said Mrs. Horton.

  "I own," said Dorriforth, (struck with amaze, and now taking her fromhis feet with a force that she could not resist) "I own, Miss Milner, Iam greatly affected and wounded at this contradiction in yourcharacter."--

  "But did not I say so?" cried Sandford, interrupting him.

  "However," continued he, "you may take my word, though you have deceivedme in your's, that Lord Frederick's life is secure. For your sake, Iwould not endanger it for the universe. But let this be a warning toyou"----

  He was proceeding with the most austere looks, and pointed language,when observing the shame, and the self-reproach that agitated her mind,he divested himself in great measure of his resentment, and said,mildly,

  "Let this be a warning to you, how you deal in future with the friendswho wish you well. You have hurried me into a mistake that might havecost me my life, or the life of the man you love; and thus exposed _you_to misery, more bitter than death."

  "I am not worthy of your friendship, Mr. Dorriforth," said she, sobbingwith grief, "and from this moment forsake me."

  "No, Madam, not in the moment you first discover to me, how I can makeyou happy."

  The conversation appearing now to become of a nature in which the restof the company could have no share whatever, they were all, except Mr.Sandford, retiring; when Miss Milner called Miss Woodley back, saying,"Stay you with me; I was never so unfit to be left without yourfriendship."

  "Perhaps at present you can dispense with mine?" said Dorriforth. Shemade no answer. He then, once more assured her Lord Frederick's life wassafe, and was quitting the room--but when he recollected in whathumiliation he had left her, turning towards her as he opened the door,he added,

  "And be assured, Madam, that my esteem for you, shall be _the same asever._"

  Sandford, as he followed him, bowed, and repeated the same words--"And,Madam, be assured that my esteem for you, shall be the same as ever."