Lovelier in her own retired abode ....than Naiad by the side Of Grecian
brook--or Lady of the Mere Lone sitting by the shores of old romance.
WORDSWORTH.
THE meditations of Ravenswood were of a very mixed complexion. He saw himself
at once in the very dilemma which he had for some time felt apprehensive he
might be placed in. The pleasure he felt in Lucy's company had indeed approached
to fascination, yet it had never altogether surmounted his internal reluctance
to wed with the daughter of his father's foe; and even in forgiving Sir William
Ashton the injuries which his family had received, and giving him credit for the
kind intentions he professed to entertain, he could not bring himself to
contemplate as possible an alliance betwixt their houses. Still, he felt that
Alice poke truth, and that his honour now required he should take an instant
leave of Ravenswood Castle, or become a suitor of Lucy Ashton. The possibility
of being rejected, too, should he make advances to her wealthy and powerful
father--to sue for the hand of an Ashton and be refused--this were a
consummation too disgraceful. "I wish her well," he said to himself, "and for
her sake I forgive the injuries her father has done to my house; but I will
never--no, never see her more!"
With one bitter pang he adopted this resolution, just as he came to where two
paths parted: the one to the Mermaiden's Fountain, where he knew Lucy waited
him, the other leading to the castle by another and more circuitous road. He
paused an instant when about to take the latter path, thinking what apology he
should make for conduct which must needs seem extraordinary, and had just
muttered to himself, "Sudden news from Edinburgh--any pretext will serve; only
let me dally no longer here," when young Henry came flying up to him, half out
of breath: "Master, Master you must give Lucy your arm back to the castle, for I
cannot give her mine; for Norman is waiting for me, and I am to go with him to
make his ring-walk, and I would not stay away for a gold Jacobus; and Lucy is
afraid to walk home alone, though all the wild nowt have been shot, and so you
must come away directly."
Betwixt two scales equally loaded, a feather's weight will turn the scale.
"It is impossible for me to leave the young lady in the wood alone," said
Ravenswood; "to see her once more can be of little consequence, after the
frequent meetings we have had. I ought, too, in courtesy, to apprise her of my
intention to quit the castle."
And having thus satisfied himself that he was taking not only a wise, but an
absolutely necessary, step, he took the path to the fatal fountain. Henry no
sooner saw him on the way to join his sister than he was off like lightning in
another direction, to enjoy the society of the forester in their congenial
pursuits. Ravenswood, not allowing himself to give a second thought to the
propriety of his own conduct, walked with a quick step towards the stream, where
he found Lucy seated alone by the ruin.
She sate upon one of the disjointed stones of the ancient fountain, and
seemed to watch the progress of its current, as it bubbled forth to daylight, in
gay and sparkling profusion, from under the shadow of the ribbed and darksome
vault, with which veneration, or perhaps remorse, had canopied its source. To a
superstitious eye, Lucy Ashton, folded in her plaided mantle, with her long
hair, escaping partly from the snood and falling upon her silver neck, might
have suggested the idea of the murdered Nymph of the fountain. But Ravenswood
only saw a female exquisitely beautiful, and rendered yet more so in his
eyes--how could it be otherwise?--by the consciousness that she had placed her
affections on him. As he gazed on her, he felt his fixed resolution melting like
wax in the sun, and hastened, therefore, from his concealment in the
neighbouring thicket. She saluted him, but did not arise from the stone on which
she was seated.
"My madcap brother," she said, "has left me, but I expect him back in a few
minutes; for, fortunately, as anything pleases him for a minute, nothing has
charms for him much longer."
Ravenswood did not feel the power of informing Lucy that her brother
meditated a distant excursion, and would not return in haste. He sate himself
down on the grass, at some little distance from Miss Ashton, and both were
silent for a short space.
"I like this spot," said Lucy at length, as if she found the silence
embarrassing; "the bubbling murmur of the clear fountain, the waving of the
trees, the profusion of grass and wild- flowers that rise among the ruins, make
it like a scene in romance. I think, too, I have heard it is a spot connected
with the legendary lore which I love so well."
"It has been thought," answered Ravenswood, "a fatal spot to my family; and I
have some reason to term it so, for it was here I first saw Miss Ashton; and it
is here I must take my leave of her for ever."
The blood, which the first part of this speech called into Lucy's cheeks, was
speedily expelled by its conclusion.
"To take leave of us, Master!" she exclaimed; "what can have happened to
hurry you away? I know Alice hates--I mean dislikes my father; and I hardly
understood her humour to-day, it was so mysterious. But I am certain my father
is sincerely grateful for the high service you rendered us. Lt me hope that,
having won your friendship hardly, we shall not lose it lightly."
"Lose it, Miss Ashton!" said the Master of Ravenswood. "No; wherever my
fortune calls me--whatever she inflicts upon me--it is your friend--your sincere
friend, who acts or suffers. But there is a fate on me, and I must go, or I
shall add the ruin of others to my own."
"Yet do not go from us, Master," said Lucy; and she laid her hand, in all
simplicity and kindness, upon the skirt of his cloak, as if to detain him. "You
shall not part from us. My father is powerful, he has friends taht are more so
than himself; do not go till you see what his gratitude will do for you. Believe
me, he is already labouring in your behalf with the council."
"It may be so," said the Master, proudly; "yet it is not to your father, Miss
Ashton, but to my own exertions, that I ought to owe success in the career on
which I am about to enter. My preparations are already made--a sword and a
cloak, and a bold heart and a determined hand."
Lucy covered her face her hands, and the tears, in spite of her, forced their
way between her fingers.
"Forgive me," said Ravenswood, taking her right hand, which, after slight
resistance, she yielded to him, still continuing to shade her face with the
left--"I am too rude--too rough--too intractable to deal with any being so soft
and gentle as you are. Forget that so stern a vision has crossed your path of
life; and let me pursue mine, sure that I can meet with no worse misfortune
after the moment it divides me from your side."
Lucy wept on, but her tears were less bitter. Each attempt which the Master
made to explain his purpose of departure only proved a new evidence of his
desire to stay; until, at length, instead of bidding her farewell, he gave his
faith to her for ever, and received her troth in return. The whole passed so
suddenly, and arose so much out of the immediate impulse of the moment, that ere
the Master of Ravenswood could reflect upon the consequences of the step which
he had taken, their lips, as well as their hands, had pledged the sincerity of
their affection.
"And now," he said, after a moment's consideration, "it is fit I should speak
to Sir William Ashton; he must know of our engagement. Ravenswood must not seem
to dwell under his roof to solicit clandestinely the affections of his
daughter."
"You would not speak to my father on the subject?" said Lucy, doubtingly; and
then added more warmly: "Oh do not--do not! Let your lot in life be
determined--your station and purpose ascertained, before you address my father.
I am sure he loves you--I think he will consent; but then my mother----!"
She paused, ashamed to express the doubt she felt how far her father dared to
form any positive resolution on this most important subject without the consent
of his lady.
"Your mother, my Lucy!" replied Ravenswood. "She is of the house of Douglas,
a house that has intermarried with mine even when its glory and power were at
the highest; what could your mother object to my alliance?"
"I did not say object," said Lucy; "but she is jealous of her rights, and may
claim a mother's title to be consulted in the first instance."
"Be it so," replied Ravenswood. "London is distant, but a letter will reach
it and receive an answer within a fortnight; I will not press on the Lord Keeper
for an instant reply to my proposal."
"But," hesitated Lucy, "were it not better to wait--to wait a few weeks? Were
my mother to see you--to know you, I am sure she would approve; but you are
unacquainted personally, and the ancient feud between the families----"
Ravenswood fixed upon her his keen dark eyes, as if he was desirous of
penetrating into her very soul.
"Lucy," he said, "I have sacrificed to you projects of vengeance long nursed,
and sworn to with ceremonies little better than heathen--I sacrificed them to
your image, ere I knew the worth which it represented. In the evening which
succeeded my poor father's funeral, I cut a lock from my hair, and, as it
consumed in the fire, I swore that my rage and revenge should pursue his
enemies, until they shrivelled before me like that scorched-up symbol of
annihilation."
"It was a deadly sin," said Lucy, turning pale, "to make a vow so fatal."
"I acknowledge it," said Ravenswood, "and it had been a worse crime to keep
it. It was for your sake that I abjured these purposes of vengeance, though I
scarce knew that such was the argument by which I was conquered, until I saw you
once more, and became ocnscious of the influence you possessed over me."
"And why do you now," said Lucy, "recall sentiments so terrible-- sentiments
so inconsistent with those you profess for me--with those your importunity has
prevailed on me to acknowledge?"
"Because," said her lover, "I would impress on you the price at which I have
bought your love--the right I have to expect your constancy. I say not that I
have bartered for it the honour of my house, its last remaining possession; but
though I say it not, and think it not, I cannot conceal from myself that the
world may do both."
"If such are your sentiments," said Lucy, "you have played a cruel game with
me. But it is not too late to give it over: take back the faith and troth which
you could not plight to me without suffering abatement of honour--let what is
passed be as if it had not been--forget me; I will endeavour to forget myself."
"You do me injustice," said the Master of Ravenswood--"by all I hold true and
honourable, you do me the extremity of injustice; if I mentioned the price at
which I have bought your love, it is only to show how much I prize it, to bind
our engagement by a still firmer tie, and to show, by what I have done to attain
this atation in your regard, how much I must suffer should you ever break your
faith."
"And why, Ravenswood," answered Lucy, "should you think that possible? Why
should you urge me with even the mention of infidelity? Is it because I ask you
to delay applying to my father for a little space of time? Bind me by what vows
you please; if vows are unnecessary to secure constancy, they may yet prevent
suspicion." Ravenswood pleaded, apologised, and even kneeled, to appease her
displeasure; and lucy, as placable as she was single-hearted, readily forgave
the offence which his doubts had implied. The dispute thus agitated, however,
ended by the lovers going through an emblematic ceremony of their troth-plight,
of which the vulgar still preserve some traces. They broke betwixt them the thin
broad-piece of gold which Alice had refused to receive from Ravenswood.
"And never shall this leave my bosom," said Lucy, as she hung the piece of
gold round her neck, and concealed it with her handkerchief, "until you, Edgar
Ravenswood, ask me to resign it to you; and, while I wear it, never shall that
heart acknowledge another love than yours."
With like protestations, Ravenswood placed his portion of the coin opposite
to his heart. And now, at length, it struck them that time had hurried fast on
during this interview, and their absence at the castle would be subject of
remark, if not of alarm. As they arose to leave the fountain which had been
witness of their mutual engagement, an arrow whistled through the air, and
struck a raven perched on the sere branch of an old oak, near to where they had
been seated. The bird fluttered a few yards and dropped at the feet of Lucy,
whose dress was stained with some spots of its blood.
Miss Ashton was much alarmed, and Ravenswood, surprised and angry, looked
everywhere for the marksman, who had given them a proof of his skill as little
expected as desired. He was not long of discovering himself, being no other than
Henry Ashton, who came running up with a crossbow in his hand.
"I knew I should startle you," he said; "and do you know, you looked so busy
that I hoped it would have fallen souse on your heads before you were aware of
it. What was the Master saying to you, Lucy?"
"I was telling your sister what an idle lad you were, keeping us waiting here
for you so long," said Ravenswood, to save Lucy's confusion.
"Waiting for me! Why, I told you to see Lucy home, and that I was to go to
make the ring-walk with old Norman in the Hayberry thicket, and you may be sure
that would take a good hour, and we have all the deer's marks and furnishes got,
while you were sitting here with Lucy, like a lazy loon."
"Well, well, Mr. Henry," said Ravenswood; "but let us see how you will answer
to me for killing the raven. Do you know, the ravens are all under the
protection of the Lords of Ravenswood, and to kill one in their presence is such
bad luck that it deserves the stab?"
"And that's what Norman said," replied the boy; "he came as far with me as
within a flight-shot of you, and he said he never saw a raven sit still so near
living folk, and he wished it might be for good luck, for the raven is one of
the wildest birds that flies, unless it be a tame one; and so I crept on and on,
till I was within threescore yards of him, and then whiz went the bolt, and
there he lies, faith! Was it not well shot? and, I dare say, I have not shot in
a crossbow!--not ten times, maybe."
"Admirably shot, indeed," said Ravenswood; "and you will be a fine marksman
if you practise hard."
"And that's what Norman says," answered the boy; "but I am sure it is not my
fault if I do not practise enough; for, of free will, I would do little else,
only my father and tutor are angry sometimes, and only Miss Lucy there gives
herself airs about my being busy, for all she can sit idle by a wellside the
whole day, when she has a handsome young gentleman to prate with. I have known
her do so twenty times, if you will believe me."
The boy looked at his sister as he spoke, and, in the midst of his
mischievous chatter, had the sense to see that he was really inflicting pain
upon her, though without being able to comprehend the cause or the amount.
"Come now, Lucy," he said, "don't greet; and if I have said anything beside
the mark, I'll deny it again; and what does the Master of Ravenswood care if you
had a hundred sweethearts? so ne'er put finger in your eye about it."
The Master of Ravenswood was, for the moment, scarce satisfied with what he
heard; yet his good sense naturally regarded it as the chatter of a spoilt boy,
who strove to mortify his sister in the point which seemed most accessible for
the time. But, although of a temper equally slow in receiving impressions and
obstinate in retaining them, the prattle of Henry served to nourish in his mind
some vague suspicion that his present engagement might only end in his being
exposed, like a conquered enemy in a Roman triumph, a captive attendant on the
car of a victor who meditated only the satiating his pride at the expense of the
vanquished. There was, we repeat it, no real ground whatever for such an
apprehension, nor could he be said seriously to entertain such for a moment.
Indeed, it was impossible to look at the clear blue eye of Lucy Ashton, and
entertain the slightest permanent doubt concerning the sincerity of her
disposition. Still, however, conscious pride and conscious poverty combined to
render a mind suspecious which in more fortunate circumstances would have been a
stranger to that as well as to every other meanness.
They reached the castle, where Sir William Ashton, who had been alarmed by
the length of their stay, met them in the hall.
"Had Lucy," he said, "been in any other company than that of one who had
shown he had so complete power of protecting her, he confessed he should have
been very uneasy, and would have despatched persons in quest of them. But, in
the company of the Master of Ravenswood, he knew his daughter had nothing to
dread." Lucy commenced some apology for their long delay, but,
conscience-struck, becames confused as she proceeded; and when Ravenswood,
coming to her assistance, endeavoured to render the explanation complete and
satisfactory, he only involved himself in the same disorder, like one who,
endeavouring to extricate his companion from a slough, entangles himself in the
same tenacious swamp. It cannot be supposed that the confusion of the two
youthful lovers escaped the observation of the sublte lawyer, accustomed, by
habit and profession, to trace human nature through all her windings. But it was
not his present policy to take any notice of what he observed. He desired to
hold the Master of Ravenswood bound, but wished that he himself should remain
free; and it did not occur to him that his plan might be defeated by Lucy's
returning the passion which he hoped she might inspire. If she should adopt some
romantic feelings towards Ravenswood, in which circumstances, or the positive
and absolute opposition of Lady Ashton, might render it unadvisable to indulge
her, the Lord Keeper conceived they might be easily superseded and annulled by a
journey to Edinburgh, or even to London, a new set of Brussels lace, and the
soft whispers of half a dozen lovers, anxious to replace him whom it was
convenient she should renounce. This was his provision for the worst view of the
case. But, according to its more probable issue, any passing favours she might
entertain for the Master of Ravenswood might require encouragement rather than
repression.
This seemed the more likely, as he had that very morning, since their
departure from the castle, received a letter, the contents of which he hastened
to communicate to Ravenswood. A foot-post had arrived with a packet to the Lord
Keeper from that friend whom we have already mentioned, who was labouring hard
underhand to consolidate a band of patriots, at the head of whom stood Sir
William's greatest terror, the active and ambitious Marquis of A- ---. The
success of this convenient friend had been such, that he had obtained from Sir
William, not indeed a directly favourable answer, but certainly a most patient
hearing. This he had reported to his principal, who had replied by the ancient
French adage, "Chateau qui parle, et femme qui ecoute, l'un et l'autre va se
rendre." A statesman who hears you propose a change of measures without reply
was, according to the Marquis's opinion, in the situation of the fortress which
parleys and the lady who listens, and he resolved to press the siege of the Lord
Keeper.
The packet, therefore, contained a letter from his friend and ally, and
another from himself, to the Lord Keeper, frankly offering an unceremonious
visit. They were crossing the country to go to the southward; the roads were
indifferent; the accommodation of the inns as execrable as possible; the Lord
Keeper had been long acquainted intimately with one of his correspondents, and,
though more slightly known to the Marquis, had yet enough of his lordship's
acquaintance to render the visit sufficiently natural, and to shut the mouths of
those who might be disposed to impute it to a political intrigue. He instantly
accepted the offered visit, determined, however, that he would not pledge
himself an inch farther for the furtherance of their views than REASON (by which
he meant his own self-interest) should plainly point out to him as proper.
Two circumstances particularly delighted him--the presence of Ravenswood, and
the absence of his own lady. By having the former under his roof, he conceived
he might be able to quash all such hazardous and hostile proceedings as he might
otherwise have been engaged in, under the patronage of the Marquis; and Lucy, he
foresaw, would make, for his immediate purpose of delay and procrastination, a
much better mistress of his family than her mother, who would, he was sure, in
some shape or other, contrive to disconcert his political schemes by her proud
and implacable temper.
His anxious solicitations that the Master would stay to receive his kinsman,
were, of course, readily complied with, since the eclaircissement which had
taken place at the Mermaiden's Fountain had removed all wish for sudden
departure. Lucy and Lockhard, had, therefore, orders to provide all things
necessary in their different departments, for receiving the expected guests with
a pomp and display of luxury very uncommon in Scotland at that remote period.
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