THE ORPHAN OF THE RHINE
PART 19
Chapter 7
In each wild song that wakes the vale around.
My fair one's fascinating voice I hear.
And Fancy bids the soft lute's silver sound.
Waft her mild accents to my ravish'd ear.
Deep grav'n by Love, thy image ne'er shall fade.
While Memory in this breast maintains her seat;
And when for thee it beats not, lovely maid.
Each trembling pulse of life shall cease to beat.
--SALMAGUNDI
In the
morning the ladies met in the breakfast parlour somewhat later than the
accustomed hour, and were soon afterwards joined by the Marchese. He was more
animated than on the preceding day, discoursed with ease and elegance upon
every subject that was introduced, and directed his attentions so peculiarly to
Laurette, that her confusion and distress were evident.
Before she
had been introduced to him, her imagination had suggested that he was much
older, and that he possessed more gravity, and dignity of deportment. She was
therefore not a little surprised when she beheld a tall, graceful figure, of an
insinuating and fashionable address, apparently not more than forty; for the
spirit and vivacity of his countenance, when actuated by gaiety and good
humour, counteracted the effects of time, and his whole behaviour, when
solicitous to please, assisted in carrying on the deception. To the Signora he
was polite and attentive; but when he addressed Laurette, there was an air of
tenderness in his manners which he did not attempt to disguise, and which it
was impossible not to understand.
The
apprehensions that Enrico had suggested were now communicated to her own heart;
the temporary vivacity that had enlivened her features soon vanished, and was
succeeded by a kind of thoughtful and tender dejection, which, so far from
detracting from the natural graces of her person, bestowed an additional
delicacy and softness.
The
Marchese, who watched every change of expression with undeviating assiduity,
imputed this pensive cast of character to perpetual retirement, and dwelt with
energy upon the advantages arising from an unrestrained intercourse with the
world. This sentiment was warmly applauded by the Signora, who, by enlarging
upon the subject, endeavoured to place her favourite persuasion in the most
favourable light; for if she had a weakness, it was certainly that of
possessing too great an attachment to the fashionable elegances of life, which
had lost nothing of value, but had rather gained additional importance in her
estimation, from having been long withheld from her. It was this growing and
seductive passion, so early implanted in her nature, aided by that love of
liberty so natural to the human mind, that occasioned an invincible aversion to
a conventual life, and which taught her to submit her duty to her inclination,
by accepting the protection of a husband, without the knowledge or acquiescence
of her only surviving parent; which conduct nothing but his unjustifiable
severity could have excused.
The day
passed without any material occurrence; the attentions of the Marchese rather
augmented than decreased, and he attempted, but not always with success, to
detach Laurette from her friend, that he might more effectually insinuate
himself into her favour and confidence. But the melancholy he thus strove to
dissipate, was by these measures increased. She received his assiduities with
coldness, and sometimes with terror, which it was impossible to conceal or
subdue; and the animated emotion of displeasure with which she repressed the
familiarity of his advances, when respectful attention yielded to the ardour of
ungovernable passion, wounded and offended his pride.
But he was
too well initiated in the arts of intrigue to suffer himself to give words to
his resentment; and, as he attributed this uniform reserve to the cause of
offended delicacy, since it appeared not to be merely the effect of solitude
and inexperience, he resolved, if no possibility existed of contaminating the
angelic purity of her mind, since she was not only the most beautiful, but the
most interesting object he had ever beheld, finally to offer her his hand. The
rank to which she would be elevated by so splendid an alliance, he imagined,
could not fail to attract and dazzle so young and charming a creature; who, if
in the slightest degree conscious of the perfections she possessed, would
doubtless be anxious to place them in a situation where they would meet with
deserved admiration, and not continue, if an opportunity offered of placing
herself eligibly in the world, to shroud herself in silence and obscurity.
On the
death of the Marchesa he had indeed hastily, and too rashly determined not to
submit to what he termed the shackles of matrimony; but other reasons, besides
the extreme beauty and innocence of Laurette, now influenced his
conduct--reasons which he reluctantly avowed even to himself; they were however
sufficient to unfix his wavering resolution; and the more he reflected upon
this newly-concerted plan, the more fascinating it appeared.
He still
ventured to believe, that a considerable portion of flattery, judiciously
administered, might prove efficacious, as few minds, if feminine, could resist
its power. And as sophistry was not likely to be detected by so young and
inexperienced a girl, unremitting attention to her desires, assisted by the
most lavish praises he was empowered to bestow, would eventually triumph over
that retiring diffidence of deportment, that guarded delicacy of conduct, which
was so strikingly featured in her character.
But,
however sanguine his expectation, the artful means he employed for the
accomplishment of his purpose, not only retarded, but prevented the success of
the enterprize. What had been darkly and mysteriously hinted, recurred
frequently to her thoughts; and the image of Enrico, noble, respectful, and
tender, being presented with all its interesting accompaniments to her mind,
rendered the solicitude of the Marchese still more unpleasant and disgusting.
She
remembered, with satisfaction, the promise she had given him previous to his
leaving the castle; and was determined, if her new lover deviated in the
smallest degree from the nice rule of propriety, to accept of his protection.
Nothing, indeed, could prevail upon her to alter her resolution respecting a marriage
with Enrico, before he was enabled to provide for her without involving him in
new difficulties; for though she could have been satisfied with a very slender
provision, if shared with the object of her affections, yet her apprehensions
of entering into life with embarrassments, which might finally lead to sorrow
and repentance, when the romantic enthusiasm, peculiar to youth and
inexperience, subsided, repressed every yielding principle of her nature; and
she thought only of consigning herself, with his assistance, since she had so
little to expect from the exertions of the Marchese in his favour, to a
convent, or some other temporary place of security, till she could fix upon
some more eligible abode, or till the bars which prevented their union were
removed.
The
letter, which had been conveyed to Enrico, did not remain long unanswered, and
she was agreeably surprised on receiving one much sooner than she imagined it
possible. This was delivered to her by the Signora when she was alone in her
apartment, and with mingled joy and curiosity she perused the contents.
He
informed her, in the first place, of his own situation, and want of success in
his undertaking; and then of the necessity of his quitting Germany, at least
for a short time, at the desire of the Marchese de Martilini, his Colonel, who
was prevented by indisposition from remaining with his regiment, and was then
resident at his seat near Mantua. He had reason to fear, he added, from some
recent accounts, that his disorder was of a severe and dangerous nature; and,
from its frequent attacks, had so injured and debilitated his constitution,
that but little was to be expected from medicinal applications.
An
epistle, penned by an unknown hand, had acquainted him with some circumstances
which made his attendance necessary, particularly that of the strong desire
which his Colonel had expressed to see him, and his many anxious enquiries
respecting his future destination.
He
likewise informed her, that since his departure from the Castle of Lunenburg, a
cessation of hostilities had actually commenced; and that, in consequence of
this measure, a speedy termination of the war was universally expected, which
would probably precipitate his return, and prevent the indispensability of his
future absences.
He then
reverted to the subject of her last epistle, expressing his astonishment at the
intelligence conveyed, which was that the Marchese de Montferrat, contrary to
his original intention, meant to reside during the winter in Germany.
But this
was a topic too productive of uneasiness to be dwelt upon; and that part of the
paper which contained it was written over with so disorderly a hand, that the
characters which attempted to convey those undescribable sensations of
tenderness that pained and agitated his breast, were scarcely legible.
Then
desiring that, should any thing happen to render her present situation
unpleasant, she would recollect her former promise of accepting his protection,
whatever distance might divide them, he gently withdrew her from the immediate
cause of their mutual uneasiness, by reverting with tender concern to those
blissful moments of juvenile felicity, which once made existence happiness.
'How
often, Laurette,' he continued, 'is your image presented to me in the visions
of my fancy! How often, since I have been wandering in unsuccessful pursuits,
have I dismissed Anselmo, that I might indulge my melancholy in secret, and
fastening my horse to the sapless branches of an oak, have rambled about in the
still and silent hour of evening, endeavouring to recall the exact expression
of your countenance, to recollect the tones of your voice, and every word you
have uttered, in those charming moments of unrestrained and mutual confidence
which we have enjoyed together. Sometimes I seat myself under the spreading
branches of a larch or a sycamore, and gaze upon the mild splendour of the
setting sun, sinking gradually from my view beneath the faded and half-foliated
woods, in the sweet hope that the same object is engaging your attention, and
that I meet you in idea.
'In the
course of my enquiries,' continued Enrico, 'I was imperceptibly led into the
neighbourhood of your former residence, I may also add of my own, in the days
of childhood. Finding I was within a league of the castle, an irresistible
inclination directed me to the place; and dismissing my servant on some
trifling pretence, I indulged the pensiveness of my feelings, by wandering
through those now desolated shades, where we have once held unrestrained
communication.
'To gain
admittance into the interior of the edifice was denied me; but with a
melancholy pleasure I was enabled, through the high gothic casements of the
lower apartments, to discover dimly in the gloom the scenes of our earliest
happiness.--The furniture, every thing remained the same, and methought I saw
you indistinctly through my tears, seated in one of the recesses in the saloon,
where we have so often sat, marking the fine tints of the sky, when the last
ray of the retiring orb had empurpled the sublime summits of the mountains, and
the blue mist of the twilight was overspreading the plains. Do you not remember
how often, in that mild and placid hour, we have rambled over the dewy hills,
marking the winding course of the river stealing slowly along in the most
romantic directions, or listening to the sighing of the wind amongst the trees?
Do you not remember, but is it possible you can forget, how frequently we have
lingered under your favourite tree, till only the tinkling of a sheep-bell, or
the mellow tones of a flute were heard faintly from the margin of the river or
the plaintive orisons of the nightingale were warbled sadly from the woods?
'Oh
Laurette! the melting recollection of those moments overwhelms me;--I sought
out this spot, so tenderly endeared tome by the grateful memorials of the past,
and throwing myself on the rudely carved bench, which was formerly so familiar
to me, sat lost in pensive reverie. Your image again presented itself to my
fancy; I saw you in that white robe which you usually wore, without any other
ornament than a knot of wild flowers, gathered from the interstices of the
mountains; a lute was in your hand, you bent over it, with one of those smiles
which are at once so seductive and fascinating, and as the rising breeze wafted
aside your locks, a blush ripened on your cheek. How strong, how chimerical is
the imagination of a lover! methought you touched a chord of the instrument,
which was answered faintly by an echo. The sound communicated to my soul--I
started from my seat--but the angelic vision was no more; it came only for a
moment to console me, and then vanished from my sight.
'I know
you will condemn these wild and romantic effusions of a disordered mind; but
you do not know what tender and interesting reflections your idea imparts to
it; I would not part with it to be occasionally less wretched, because I should
then lose all that can make life desirable.'
In another
part of his letter he adds, 'I am resolved to see you before I visit Italy,
whatever danger it may expose me to; I will encounter the coldness, perhaps the
displeasure of the Marchese, for I find it impossible to quit Germany without
one consoling glance. In a few days after the receipt of this I may probably be
with you; do not mention my intention to any one; I wish it was possible to see
only yourself, for the necessity of my speedy arrival in Italy will prevent my
being stationary. I would desire to see you alone, and without the knowledge of
the Marchese, if I was not in danger of hazarding your displeasure. You will
not, I fear, adopt this mode of conduct, however requisite, because it
discovers a want of openness.
'But why,
Laurette, will you forget that I am your brother? Why would you deprive me of
the sacred power of protecting you, the primary wish of my soul; of defending
you from future injuries, or of redressing them if committed?'
Towards
the conclusion of the letter he gave her an account of the convents he had
visited, and of the unsatisfactory intelligence he had received; and then
finished with a request, that she would indulge him, if possible, with a
private interview, since, contrary to his original design, he was resolved to
see her immediately.
Laurette
perused the former part of this epistle with a painful interest, and a ray of
consolation was communicated to her bosom when she arrived at that part of it
which treated of his intended visit. But the interview, for which he pleaded so
forcibly, she feared could not be easily obtained; as the Marchese seldom left
her even for a moment, and consequently that retirement, which had been long
familiar and dear to her, could only be enjoyed in the solitude of her own
apartment.
Laurette
was roused from these reflections by the ringing of the dinner-bell, and before
she had descended the stairs, the Marchese, who thought every moment of her
absence an age while she had been engaged in the perusal of the letter, came
forwards to conduct her into the room which was appropriated for that purpose.
The
empassioned glances which he cast upon her, as he advanced forwards to lead her
into the room, covered her with confusion; and as he took her hand, on their
way through the hall, it trembled so excessively, that the animated expression
of his countenance suddenly changed, and surprise, mingled with displeasure,
succeeded.
He would
have demanded the cause of this alarm, but to avoid interrogatories she hurried
into the apartment, and seating herself by the side of the Signora, endeavoured
to conceal her chagrin by an ill-assumed appearance of composure.
During the
dinner hour, the Marchese, contrary to his custom, remained totally silent, and
seemed unusually thoughtful. As soon as the cloth was withdrawn, without
offering any thing of an apology, he arose from the table, and traversed the
room with a gloomy and disordered air, regardless of the Signora and even of
Laurette, though the conversation of both was more than once directed to himself.
The
repulsive coldness which was so evident in the deportment of the beautiful
orphan, in spite of all his insinuating efforts to secure her affections, at
once wounded his feelings, and exasperated his pride.--What he formerly
imagined proceeded merely from native timidity, and that chilling reserve,
which usually accompanies rigid delicacy of sentiment on the first advances of
freedom, he now attributed to a different cause.
Paoli
having been informed of Enrico's visit at the castle, did not fail to
communicate this intelligence to his Lord, who received it with no sensation of
pleasure. From what had been related to the steward, he appeared to have been a
favoured lover; and his person and manners being spoken of in the most
flattering terms, assisted in justifying the surmise.
As Paoli
did not conceal the smallest circumstance from the Marchese relative to Enrico,
he soon succeeded in his intention of inspiring him with jealousy and aversion
towards the amiable young Chevalier, which now added keenness to the various
and conflicting passions that agitated his breast.
Had his
rival been any other than his own son, he would probably have meditated some
dreadful revenge; but the ties of blood, however feebly cemented by the bonds
of affection, prevented him from exercising any actual cruelty, though it
tended not to mitigate his resentment, but rather added warmth to the violence
of his unrestrained passions. He had before determined to disown and abandon
him, notwithstanding his former promises were delivered with a degree of
solemnity which would have awed a mind less strong and energetic than his own.
At an
earlier period of existence, could he have allowed himself time for reflection,
he might possibly have shrunk from this act of undeserved barbarity with the
abhorrence it merited; but he was now grown too familiar with vice to be
shocked at, or even to detect its natural deformity; and his love of virtue, of
which it was evident he possessed no larger a portion than what is inseparable
from, and inherent in, our natures, was so weakened by a long course of
debauchery and immorality, so secretly practised as to deceive superficial
observers; who, allured by his apparent generosity and public benevolence of
conduct, easily gave him credit for the reality of every perfection which he
found it necessary to assume; and being thus satisfied with the outward
semblance of goodness, he wanted not only resolution, but inclination, to
become virtuous.
Though the
Marchese did not relax from his resolve respecting Laurette, he discovered that
it was requisite to adopt some new plan for the accomplishment of his design;
he easily perceived that she regarded him with the most stoical indifference,
which she now did not attempt to disguise;--he was also conscious, that the
spark of gratitude which had once faintly beamed from her countenance was
extinguished; and, instead of appearing flattered by his attentions, she
carefully avoided giving him any opportunity of bestowing them.
Chapter 8
Some strange commotion
Is in his brain, he bites his lip, and starts;
Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground.
Then lays his finger on his temple; straigh
Springs out into fast gait, then stops again.
Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts
His eye against the moon: in most strange postures
We've seen him set himself.
--SHAKESPEARE
The
Signora, who observed this almost immediate change in the deportment of the
Marchese, attributed it to the right cause. She perceived, on his first
interview with Laurette, the commencement of his passion and saw, with extreme
concern, the visible coldness of her manners, and the air of unusual dejection
which was delineated on her countenance, when his assiduous attentions were
more particularly directed to her.
It was
easy to discover, even on a superficial acquaintance, that the passions of the
Marchese were strong and invincible; and though the Signora was totally
unacquainted with his excesses, and was equally a stranger to the insatiable
cruelty of disposition he had formerly displayed when any one dared to oppose
him in his interests or his pleasures, she had sufficiently penetrated into his
character to be aware of the danger of irritating his pride, and ventured
gently to remonstrate with her friend upon the subject.
She suspected
the attachment which had so long tenderly subsisted between our heroine and the
handsome young Chevalier, even before she was personally known to him, though
the native delicacy of Laurette's sentiments and feelings prevented her from
openly avowing any extraordinary prepossession in his favour. Yet as she no
longer retained, in any eminent degree, that enchanting frankness of expression
which once gave new charms to her conversation and demeanour when in the
presence of the Marchese, whose attentions could not be misunderstood, what
before was only conjecture, now ripened into conviction.
The
solicitude that the Signora discovered for the welfare and happiness of her
lovely favourite, was received with the most attractive gentleness, and repayed
with almost filial affection. But when she reverted to the Marchese, dwelling
upon the ardour of his passion, and the unhappy consequence of such a
rejection; which, considering his rank, fortune, and accomplishments, could
only be occasioned by a premature attachment, a throbbing emotion agitated the
bosom of Laurette, and her tears flowed silently and fast. Since she was now
wholly in his power, the danger of exasperating his vengeance was too evident
to escape her notice, yet she could not, however necessary, submit to the
meanness of disguising her sentiments for the sake of future advantage, or to
the policy of apparently encouraging hopes, which could not finally be
realized.
The
Marchese was now less frequently in the society of the ladies than on his first
arrival, and even in their presence, the deep musings of his mind so entirely
abstracted him from conversation, and threw at times such a deep gloom over his
features, that Laurette could not observe him without a sensation of awe,
mingled with terror. He was frequently closeted with his steward for many hours
in the day; and when he returned into the saloon, his dark piercing eyes
assumed a ferocious and dreadful appearance, so different from their former
expression, that no one presumed to address him, except Paoli, who possessed
over his Lord an unlimited power; and, by constant and unremitting
perseverance, was enabled to prosecute his purposes with all imaginable ease
and success.
The aspect
of the Marchese now indicated the most restless inquietude; he often started
wildly from his seat, without any apparent cause, answered widely from the
subject if a question was directed to him, which was never unnecessarily the
case, and threw his eyes strangely around the room, like a man newly awakened
from a dream, as if his whole soul was absorbed in some desperate and important
enterprize, which he was alarmed lest any one should penetrate.
It was
after one of these secret interviews with the steward, that the Marchese
informed the Signora of his intention of visiting the old castle on the Rhine;
having some thoughts of rendering it habitable, that he might occasionally
retire to it as a summer residence: at the same time requesting, that she would
prepare to accompany him thither on the succeeding day, as he wished to have
her opinion and assistance respecting the alterations.
He
slightly asked Laurette if she would consent to be of the party; and, on her
modestly declining it, left the room to give some farther orders to Paoli,
without repeating the invitation.
Having
betrayed no symptoms of anger or resentment, the expected consequence of her
refusal, a ray of comfort was conveyed to the bosom of Laurette; since she had
been for some days in hourly expectation of Enrico, and had now an opportunity
of seeing him alone without the knowledge of the Marchese.
To remain
at the castle during his absence was a privilege so unhoped for, that she could
with difficulty conceal her satisfaction. But how must she inform Enrico of her
new cause of apprehension, without augmenting his distress? though to avoid
entering upon a subject, in which he was so nearly interested, would be utterly
impossible, since he would assuredly introduce it, and reluctance on her part
would naturally kindle curiosity and lead to conjecture.
When the
morning arrived, the family assembled early in the breakfast room, and, as soon
as they had partaken of the usual repast, the carriage being in readiness, the
Marchese informed Laurette that they meant to return at the expiration of a
week, and seating himself by the side of the Signora, drove from the gate.
As soon as
the chariot was out of sight, though she had reason to lament the absence of
her friend, the beautiful orphan felt as if released from a long and mournful
captivity; joy once more played about her heart, and forgetting for the moment
the presaging aspect of the future, she yielded to the new and sweet emotion.
The only
unpleasant circumstance with which this indulgence was attended, arose from the
presence of Paoli, who, contrary to her expectation, received no orders to
attend his Lord; but as he did not often obtrude himself into her company, she
reflected upon it with less uneasiness, and, being alone, began to form some
plan as to her future conduct.
It was now
the beginning of November, and the winds blowing chill and bleak from the
mountains, prevented her from frequenting her favourite solitary walks; she
sometimes, indeed, strolled along the lawn, or through the thick shades of the
shrubberies; but the cold and drizzly rains, and the thick mists that pervaded
the atmosphere, made her fearful of continuing her rambles. When the weather
did not permit her to extend them, she observed, not without some astonishment,
that she was followed at an inconsiderable distance by Paoli, who seemed to
watch her movements whenever she advanced along the grounds with the most
uniform scrutiny, as if anxious to avail himself of every opportunity of
observing them, when she was the least apprehensive of his intention. He never,
however, attempted entering into any conversation with her, even when aware of
her notice; but this restraint upon her actions, which was evidently the result
of design, confined her almost constantly to her apartment.
With
somewhat of impatience she now awaited the arrival of Enrico, and when several
days had elapsed, began to reflect upon his absence with grief and
disappointment. Something might have happened since he had last written, to
have prevented the execution of his design; but his not acquainting her with
the occasion of his absence, when he had so expressly declared his resolution
of visiting her, was an omission for which she could by no means account.
The week
now drew rapidly to a close, yet still he did not appear; and, as she was
hourly apprehensive of the return of the Marchese, she began rather to dread,
than to desire the performance of his promise.
One
evening when it was nearly dark, as she was standing at the window of her
apartment, she perceived, at some distance, a tall figure in a white garment,
stealing slowly through a copse beyond the boundaries of the castle, as if
desirous of concealment.--This she was convinced could be no other than the
Monk who had formerly forewarned her of the danger of her situation, and whom
she had of late studiously avoided.
As she
continued to observe him, he advanced nearer, and entering a small gate, at the
extremity of the walls, swept hastily along the grounds till he had reached a
thick grove of evergreens which led to the southern side of the building, when
he suddenly stopped, and remained stationary.
It now
occurred to her mind, that the reason why she was so narrowly watched by Paoli
was, that by this means he might be enabled to prevent a future interview with
the Monk, which, from some cause, she was incapable of investigating, and which
was known only to the Marchese and himself, was thus carefully to be hindered
from taking effect.
Curiosity,
from a second review of the subject, triumphed for the moment over every other
consideration, and she felt an irresistible inclination to descend, and hear
him unfold the important secret, which he was before prevented from disclosing.
As she
still ruminated upon this singular event, new fortitude was communicated to her
mind; and leaving the room with an assumed appearance of calmness, she
resolved, if by any means the vigilance of her tormentor could be eluded, who,
as it was night, would probably not suspect her of rambling from the castle, to
go immediately to the place.
Scarcely
had she descended the stairs before her resolution forsook her, and fear and
terror took possession of her faculties. The little advantage that might
possibly attend such a discovery, and the dangers which might arise from this
mode of procedure, in the calmer moments of reflection, compelled her to
abandon the design; and she was returning pensively to the apartment she had
quitted, without attempting to gratify her curiosity, when the rolling of a
carriage announced the arrival of the Marchese.
Paoli ran
instantly to the gate to welcome his Lord, whilst Laurette, who experienced a
slight degree of surprise and disappointment, remained fixed to the spot.
In a few
moments he entered the great hall, attended by his steward, whom he hastily
called aside, without apparently observing any other, whilst Laurette waited to
receive the Signora at the door of the saloon.
Surprised
that she did not appear, she proceeded towards the portal, and made an enquiry
of one of the servants, who informed her, to her unspeakable grief and
astonishment, that she was left at the Castle of Elfinbach, and was to remain
there till the ensuing week, for the purpose of overlooking the repairs.
The
glaring impropriety of her situation now filled the unfortunate Laurette with
new terrors; she trembled, lest the Marchese had adopted this plan that he
might continue his persecutions successfully, and more than ever distracted
with tormenting apprehensions, she entered the saloon, and throwing herself
upon a sofa, which was fixed in a recess under a window, burst into an agony of
tears.
Having
remained there some time, she heard steps in the hall which advanced nearer,
and believing it to be the person whom she most dreaded to see, arose hastily,
and endeavoured to open the window which descended to the ground that she might
effectuate an escape; but the attempt was in vain, and the presence of the
Marchese prevented her from retreating by any other means.
He entered
with an air of easy confidence, and as Laurette tremblingly advanced forwards
to welcome him, he led her courteously to a seat, and then placed himself by
her side. A deep blush now took possession of her features; she cast her
beautiful eyes upon the ground, and a sigh, that refused to be suppressed,
agitated her bosom.
The
Marchese, after gazing upon her for some time with a look of earnest
tenderness, took her hand, and would have pressed it to his lips, but she
withdrew it hastily from his grasp, and a look of displeasure awed him into
forbearance.
'By heaven
this is too much!' cried the Marchese; 'Laurette, you are cruel--you are
unjust;--you know I love you; my passion I have never attempted to conceal,
though it has been chilled with the most provoking indifference. But, in spite
of all your reserve, I cannot believe you mean seriously to reject me; and to
convince you that the proposals I mean to make are as honourable as
advantageous, I now offer you my hand. Consent then, beautiful Laurette,'
resumed he, softening his voice, and regarding her with a look of ineffable
tenderness, 'to become the Marchesa de Montferrat, and to accept of a situation
which every other woman would embrace with transport.'
Keener
agony now suppressed her utterance; her silence encouraged the hopes of the
Marchese, who watched every turn of her countenance with the utmost impatience,
and taking again the resisting hand she had withdrawn, besought her to
determine immediately.
Her answer
was at once gentle and decisive: she acknowledged the honour he was solicitous
to confer, but conjured him not to distress her by a repetition of his request,
which would inevitably be productive of uneasiness, and could never be attended
with success.
The
firmness of her tone and manner surprised and offended him; the attachment,
which he suspected had early subsisted between her and Enrico, could only
account for this conduct. Anger was again kindled in his breast; the submissive
tenderness of deportment which he had assumed, vanished, whilst resentment and
ungovernable pride struggled for concealment.
He did
not, however, yield without reflection to their influence, but with all the
eloquence he could command, pleaded forcibly his cause, assiduously
endeavouring to remove every obstacle which her imagination could suggest. But
to each new argument she replied with the same decisive coldness, without
assigning the reasons that actuated her, though he frequently demanded them in
a tone of authority and displeasure.
Finding
that she was not to be wrought upon by any means that had been hitherto employed,
resentment, no longer to be restrained, burst forth with unbridled energy; his
breast heaved with contending emotions, which he found it impossible to resist,
and a deep indignant glow animated his expressive features.
'You are
then determined to reject my suit,' resumed the Marchese, rising hastily from
his seat, and fixing his eyes upon her's with a keen and penetrating glance.
'You have
already received an answer, my Lord,' replied Laurette, 'and why should I
irritate you by repeating it? You have hitherto protected me, and have, from
that circumstance, a claim upon my gratitude. I was taught, from the earliest
period of my existence, to consider you as my only surviving friend; and, when
personally unknown to you, to honour and revere you as a parent;--forgive me
when I say no other sentiment can be excited; and permit me also to add, that
if you wish for my esteem, you must instantly desist from farther persecution.'
Rage and
exasperated pride now deprived him of utterance; and as he still continued to
pace the room with a perturbed and agitated step, Laurette, willing to take
advantage of this silence, arose and would have retired. But this he resolutely
opposed, and fastening the door to prevent a similar attempt, compelled her to
return to her seat.
New terror
now took possession of her mind; but knowing that resistance would be vain, and
remonstrance equally ineffectual, she ventured not to dispute his authority. As
he still continued to traverse the room, apparently musing upon some new
project, an universal trembling seized her, and scarcely dared she to raise her
eyes from the ground, lest they should meet his dreadful and indignant glances.
A Venetian
mirror that was placed on the opposite side of the saloon, over which was
suspended an Etruscan lamp, dimly reflected his figure, which was altogether
more stern and terrible than her fancy could have formed:--His cloak hung
loosely from his shoulder, his plume waved haughtily over his brow, whilst his
darkened countenance, that expressed all the energies of a soul refusing to be
subdued, was strongly marked with rage, jealousy, and revenge. In a few minutes
he started from his reverie, and placing himself upon the sofa, again demanded
her reasons for rejecting him.
'You have
already heard them, my Lord,' replied Laurette, mildly. 'My answer, I think,
was sufficiently decisive; and, as I have no more to add upon the subject, I
must request your permission to retire.'
'Presumptuous
girl!' interrupted the Marchese, in a voice half stifled with resentment, 'will
you still persist in this daring obstinacy? Do you dispute my power, or is it
that you have a young Chevalier at hand to protect you?'
As he
uttered these words, which were accompanied with a disdainful and sarcastic
smile, a faint glow tinged the cheek of Laurette; the tremulous sensation that
was stealing upon her spirits prevented her from framing an immediate answer;
but the integrity of her mind invested her with new fortitude, and as he paused
with his eyes fixed upon her innocent and blushing face, as if awaiting her
reply, she endeavoured so far to command her feelings as to give it with
dignity. When she had regained some portion of her native composure, she
attempted to convince him of the impossibility of gaining her affections by
this arbitrary conduct, or indeed by any other mode that could be adopted; at
the same time requesting him not to compel her to lose all esteem for his
character, as she should unwillingly relinquish the favourable impression, and
this could only be prevented by a promise on his part never to resume the
subject.
'Do you
forget,' returned the Marchese, emphatically, 'your orphan and dependant state?
Do you forget that you are without friends, fortune, or connections? that there
is not a being existing on whom you have any claim for protection--none who,
from any other motive than that of common humanity, would preserve you from the
miseries of neglect and poverty? Have I not hitherto defended you from these;
and have I not a right to be obeyed?'
'I am not
insensible to these obligations,' replied Laurette, weeping, 'and I would not
willingly have any thing happen to cancel them; I would feign consider you as a
tender and disinterested friend, still honour you as the guardian of my
helpless infancy--but as a lover, my Lord, I must not, indeed I cannot return
the affection with which you have honoured me.
'You must
not, and you cannot!' repeated the Marchese, with deeper emphasis, whilst
jealousy and rage lent all their fury to his countenance 'But your reason for
persisting in this refusal is evident; some wretch has pilfered those
affections which ought to have been mine; and by heaven he shall not escape my
revenge. Laurette, you either accede to my wishes, or you are thrown from my
protection, not into the arms of your lover (for I will pursue him with
unabating vengeance), but into a situation sufficiently remote to elude his
most arduous researches; where, after lingering in obscurity, you will live and
die unknown and unlamented. Recollect that I will no longer be trifled with; I
have dedicated too much of my time already to the indulgence of your caprice;
and from henceforth, if you still continue to practise it, I will assume the
tyrant. Hitherto I have meanly descended to supplicate, in hopes of inspiring
you with a mutual attachment, but my mind has regained its energy; consider me
then no longer as your slave, but remember I expect, nay command your
obedience, and that a contrary conduct will be attended with the punishment it
merits.'
Laurette
heard not the latter part of the sentence, for she had fainted; the assurance
that Enrico would be involved in her misfortunes, to whom he certainly alluded,
quite overcame her, and she sunk lifeless upon the sofa.
The
Marchese, unwilling to call for assistance, made many fruitless attempts to
recall her to life; and taking her into his arms, ventured to open the folds of
her robe for freer respiration. Whilst he continued to support her, with his
arm encircling her waist, anxiously gazing upon her colourless form, and
impatiently awaiting the glow of animation which had formerly added such
loveliness to her person, the string of brilliants, that was suspended round
her neck, attracted his attention; and, not doubting but the portrait of Enrico
was fastened to it, he snatched it hastily from her bosom, and starting, as if
he had seen an apparition, let it fall involuntarily from his hand. A faint
struggle now indicated returning life, and the Marchese taking immediate
advantage of it, demanded how she had obtained the possession of that picture.
'The
picture, my Lord,' replied Laurette, 'what picture?'
'That
which was concealed in your bosom,' returned the Marchese, sternly, 'by whom
was it delivered? Speak, I command you, instantly.'
'Alas! I
know not,' sighed Laurette, scarcely knowing what she had uttered; 'it is the
portrait of my mother.'
'The
portrait of your mother,' repeated the Marchese; 'and who informed you that the
Contessa della Caro was your mother--who has dared to utter such a falsehood?
tell me this instant from whom you have received this intelligence, or expect
the severest inflictions that rage and disappointment can suggest?'
The deep
and dreadful tones of his voice when ascending the climax of passion, so
agitated and alarmed Laurette, that she relapsed into a state of insensibility,
and the Marchese having employed many ineffectual means to restore her to life,
was compelled to call for assistance.
In this
lifeless condition she was conducted to her apartment by one of the women of
the castle, and, gradually reviving, retired to her bed. When she was alone,
and began to meditate upon the Marchese, dislike arose into abhorrence; and
though she felt that she must inevitably suffer, she trembled less for her own
fate than for that of Enrico. If she persisted in refusing the hand of her
persecutor, she knew there was nothing to be expected from his clemency. He had
threatened to convey her to some remote and dreary solitude, where she was to
be left, without pity, to all the horrors of her wayward destiny. To what place
did he allude when he assured her, with menaces, that it was beyond the reach
of her lover? The astonishment and terror that was delineated on his
countenance, on the discovery of the picture, was also food for conjecture. He
declared that it was the Contessa della Caro, but denied that it was her mother
with a degree of vehemence which tended rather to frighten than convince.
Unable to solve this inexplicable mystery, she endeavoured to find comfort in
repose; but it was long before she was relieved by slumber from these harassing
and tormenting apprehensions.
To be continued
