Emmeline Part 63

'But can I doubt it!' exclaimed Delamere, rising, and walking about in an agony--'Can I doubt it, when I have heard you disclaim me for ever!--when you have told me your affections are no longer in your power!'

'No, Sir; my meaning was, what I now repeat--that as my near relation, as my friend, as the brother of Lady Westhaven, I shall ever esteem and regard you; but that I cannot command now in your favour those sentiments which should induce me to accept of you as my husband. What is past cannot be recalled; and tho' I am most truly concerned to see you unhappy, my determination is fixed and I must abide by it.'

'Death and h.e.l.l!' cried the agonized Delamere--'It is all over then! You utterly disclaim me, and hardly think it worth while to conceal from me for whose sake I am disclaimed!'

Emmeline was terrified to find that he still persisted in imputing her estrangement from him to her partiality for Bellozane; foreseeing that he would immediately fly to him, and that all she apprehended must follow.

'I beg, I entreat, Lord Delamere, that you will understand that I give no preference to Mr. de Bellozane. I will not only a.s.sure you of that, but I disclaim all intention of marriage whatever! Suffer me, my Lord, to entreat that you will endeavour to calm your mind and regain your health. Reflect on the cruel uncertainty in which you have left the Marquis and the Marchioness; reflect on the uneasy situation in which you keep Lord and Lady Westhaven, and on the great injury you do yourself; and resolutely attempt, in the certainty of succeeding, to divest yourself of a fatal partiality, which has. .h.i.therto produced only misery to you and to your family.'

'Oh! most certainly, most certainly!' cried Delamere, almost choaked with pa.s.sion--'I shall undoubtedly make all these wise reflections; and after having gone thro' a proper course of them, shall, possibly, with great composure, see you in the arms of that presumptuous c.o.xcomb--that vain, supercilious Frenchman!--that detested Bellozane! No, Madam! no!

you may certainly give yourself to him, but a.s.sure yourself I live not to see it!'

He flew out of the room at these words, tho' she attempted to stop and to appease him. Her heart bled at the wounds she had yet thought it necessary to inflict; and she was at once grieved and terrified at his menacing and abrupt departure. She immediately went herself after Lord Westhaven, to intreat him to keep Bellozane and Delamere apart. His Lords.h.i.+p was much disturbed at what had pa.s.sed, which Emmeline faithfully related to him: Bellozane was still out of town; and Lord Westhaven, who now apprehended that on Delamere's meeting him he would immediately insult him, said he would consider what could be done to prevent their seeing each other 'till Delamere became more reasonable.

On enquiry, he found that the Chevalier was certainly engaged with his companions 'till the next day. He therefore came back to Emmeline about an hour after he had left her, and told her that he thought it best for her to set out that afternoon on her way to St. Germains.

'You will by this means make it difficult for Bellozane to overtake you, if he should attempt it; and when he sees you have actually fled from Delamere, he will be little disposed to quarrel with him, and will perhaps go home. As to Delamere, his sister and I must manage him as well as we can; which will be the easier, as he is, within this half hour, gone to bed in a violent access of fever. Indeed, in the perturbation of mind he now suffers, there is no probability of his speedy amendment; for as fast as he regains strength, his violent pa.s.sions throw his frame again into disorder.--But perhaps when he knows you are actually in England, he may try to acquire, by keeping himself quiet, that share of health which alone can enable him to follow you.'

Emmeline, eagerly embracing this advice, which she found had the concurrence of Lady Westhaven, prepared instantly for her departure; and embracing tenderly her two excellent friends, who hoped soon to follow her, and who had desired her to come to them to reside as soon as they were settled in London, where they had no house at present, she got into a chaise, with Madelon, and attended by Le Limosin, who was proudly elated at being thus '_l'homme de confience_'[38] to Mademoiselle Mowbray, she left Besancon; her heart deeply impressed with a sense of Delamere's sufferings, and with an earnest wish for the restoration of his peace.

Tho' G.o.dolphin had been gone four days, and went post, so that she knew he must be at Paris long before her, she could not, as she proceeded on her journey, help fancying that some accident might have stopped him, and that she might overtake him. She knew not whether she hoped or feared such an encounter. But the disappointed air with which she left every post house where she had occasion to stop for horses, plainly evinced that she rather desired than dreaded it. She felt all the absurdity and ridicule of expecting to see him; yet still she looked out after him; and he was the object she sought when she cast her eyes round her at the several stages.

Without overtaking him, or being herself overtaken by Bellozane, she arrived in safety and in the usual time at Paris, and immediately went on to St. Germains; Le Limosin being so well acquainted with travelling, that she had no trouble nor alarm during her journey.

When she got to St. Germains, she was received with transport by Mrs.

Stafford and her family. She found her about to depart, in two days, for England, where there was a prospect of settling her husband's affairs; and she had undertaken to go alone over, in hopes of adjusting them for his speedy return; while he had agreed to remain with the children 'till he heard the success of her endeavours. Great was the satisfaction of Mrs. Stafford to find that Emmeline would accompany her to England; with yet more pleasure did she peruse those doc.u.ments which convinced her that her fair friend went to claim, with an absolute certainty of success, her large paternal fortune.

Lord Westhaven had given her a long letter to the Marquis of Montreville, to whom he desired she would immediately address herself; and he had also written to an eminent lawyer, his friend, into whose hands he directed her immediately to put the papers that related to her birth, and by no means to trust them with any other person.

With money, also, Lord Westhaven had amply furnished her; and she proposed taking lodgings in London, 'till she could settle her affairs with Lord Montreville; and then to go to Mowbray Castle.

On the second day after her reaching St. Germains, she began her journey to Calais with Mrs. Stafford, attended by Le Limosin and Madelon. When they arrived there, they heard that a pa.s.sage boat would sail about nine o'clock in the evening; but on sending Le Limosin to speak to the master, they learned that there were already more cabin pa.s.sengers than there was room to accommodate, and that therefore two ladies might find it inconvenient.

As the evening, however, was calm, and the wind favourable, and as the two fair travellers were impatient to be in England, they determined to go on board. It was near ten o'clock before the vessel got under way; and before two they were a.s.sured they should be at Dover. They therefore hesitated not to pa.s.s that time in chairs on the deck, wrapped in their cloaks; and would have preferred doing so, to the heat and closeness of the cabin, had there been room for them in it.

By eleven o'clock, every thing insensibly grew quiet on board. The pa.s.sengers were gone to their beds, the vessel moved calmly, and with very little wind, over a gently swelling sea; and the silence was only broken by the waves rising against it's side, or by the steersman, who now and then spoke to another sailor, that slowly traversed the deck with measured pace.

The night was dark; a declining moon only broke thro' the heavy clouds of the horizon with a feeble and distant light. There was a solemnity in the scene at once melancholy and pleasing. Mrs. Stafford and Emmeline both felt it. They were silent; and each lost in her own reflections; nor did they attend to a slight interruption of the stillness that reigned on board, made by a pa.s.senger who came from below, m.u.f.fled in a great coat. He spoke in a low voice to the man at the helm, and then sat down on the gunwale, with his back towards the ladies; after which all was again quiet.

In a few minutes a deep sigh was uttered by this pa.s.senger; and then, after a short pause, the two friends were astonished to hear, in a voice, low, but extremely expressive, these lines, addressed to Night.

SONNET

I love thee, mournful sober-suited Night, When the faint Moon, yet lingering in her wane And veil'd in clouds, with pale uncertain light Hangs o'er the waters of the restless main.

In deep depression sunk, the enfeebled mind Will to the deaf, cold elements complain, And tell the embosom'd grief, however vain, To sullen surges and the viewless wind.

Tho' no repose on thy dark breast I find, I still enjoy thee--chearless as thou art; For in thy quiet gloom, the exhausted heart, Is calm, tho' wretched; hopeless, yet resign'd.

While, to the winds and waves, it's sorrows given, May reach--tho' lost on earth--the ear of heaven!

'Surely,' said Mrs. Stafford in a whisper, 'it is a voice I know.'

'Surely,' repeated the heart of Emmeline, for she could not speak, 'it is the voice of G.o.dolphin!'

'Do you,' rea.s.sumed Mrs. Stafford--'do you not recollect the voice?'

'Yes,' replied Emmeline. 'I think--I believe--I rather fancy it is--Mr.

G.o.dolphin.'

'Shall I speak to him?' asked Mrs. Stafford, 'or are you disposed to hear more poetry? He has no notion who are his auditors.'

'As you please,' said Emmeline.

Again the person sighed, and repeated with more warmth--

'And reach, tho' lost on earth--the ear of heaven!'

'Yes--if _she_ is happy, they will indeed be heard! Ah! that cruel _if_--_if_ she is happy! and can I bear to doubt it, yet leave her to the experiment!'

There now remained no doubt but that the stranger was G.o.dolphin; and Emmeline as little hesitated to believe herself the subject of his thoughts and of his Muse.

'Why do _you_ not speak to him, Emmeline?' said Mrs. Stafford archly.

'I cannot, indeed.'

'I must speak then, myself;' and raising her voice, she said--'Mr.

G.o.dolphin, is it not?'

'Who is so good as to recollect me?' cried he, rising and looking round him. It was very dark; but he could just distinguish that two ladies were there.

Mrs. Stafford gave him her hand, saying--'Have you then forgotten your friends?'

He s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand, and carried it to his lips.

'There is another hand for you,' said she, pointing to Emmeline--'but you must be at the trouble of taking it.'

'That I shall be most delighted to do. But who is it? Surely it cannot be Miss Mowbray, that allows me such happiness?'

'Have you, in one little week,' said the faultering Emmeline, 'occasion to ask that question?'

'Not now I hear that voice,' answered G.o.dolphin in the most animated tone--'Not when I hold this lovely hand. But whence comes it that I find you, Madam, here? or how does it happen that you have left my brother and sister, and the happy Delamere?' He seemed to have recollected, after his first transport at meeting her, that he was thus warmly addressing _her_ who was probably only going to England to prepare for her union with his rival.

'Do not be so unreasonable,' said Mrs. Stafford, 'as to expect Miss Mowbray should answer all these questions. But find a seat; and let us hear some account of yourself. You have also to make your peace with me for not seeing me in your way.'

G.o.dolphin threw himself on the deck at their feet.