Luttrell Of Arran Part 73

How eventful does the slightest action become, when it may lead to that which can determine a life's fortune! Even now, how much is in my power!

I might go back, throw myself at that old man's feet, and tell him that it was in vain I tried it--I could not leave him. I might kneel there till he raised me, and when he did so, I should be his wife, a t.i.tled lady, and mistress of that grand old castle! Could I do this? No: no more than I could go and beg the Vyners to have pity on me and take me back; that my heart clung to the happiness I had learned to feel amongst them; and that I would rather serve them as a menial than live away from them. Better to die than this. And, what will this life at Arran be?

This uncle, too, I dread him; and yet, I long to see him. I want to hear him call me by his own name, and acknowledge me as a Luttrell. Oh, if he had but done this before--before I had travelled this weary road of deception and falsehood! Who knows? Who knows?"

"Are you the young lady, Miss, that's expecting an elderly gentleman?"

said the housemaid, entering hastily.

"Where from? How did he come?" cried Elate, eagerly; for her first thought was, it might be Sir Within.

"He came by the Irish packet, Miss."

"Yes that is quite right. If he asks for Miss Luttrell, you may say I am ready to see him."

In a minute or two after she had given this order, the girl again opened the door, saying:

"Mr. Coles, Miss;" and introduced a florid, fussy-looking little man, with a manner compounded of courtesy and command.

"You may leave the room, young woman," said he to the maid; and then, approaching Kate, added, "I have the honour to speak to Miss Luttrell?"

She bowed a quiet a.s.sent, and he went on:

"I'm chief managing-clerk of Cane and Co., Miss Luttrell, from whom I received instructions to wait on you here, and accompany you to Westport, where Mr. John Luttrell will have a boat ready for you."

He delivered this speech with a something half-peremptory, as though he either suspected some amount of resistance to his authority, or imagined that his credentials might be questioned.

"Have you no letter for me, Sir?" asked she, calmly.

"There was a letter from Mr. Luttrell to Mr. George Cane, Miss Luttrell, explaining why he was not himself able to come over and meet you."

"Was he ill, Sir?"

"No, not exactly ill, Miss Luttrell, though he is never what one can call well."

"I am astonished he did not write to me," said she, in a low, thoughtful tone.

"He is not much given to writing, Miss Luttrell, at any time, and of late we have rarely heard from him beyond a line or two. Indeed, with respect to my present journey, all he says is, 'Send some one in your confidence over to Holyhead by the first packet to inquire for Miss Luttrell, or Miss O'Hara--she may be known by either name--and conduct her to Elridge's Hotel, Westport. The young lady is to be treated with all consideration.' These are his words, Miss, and I hope to follow them."

"It is very kind," said she slowly, and half to herself.

"It's a Frenchified sort of phrase, 'all consideration,' but I take its meaning to be, with every deference to your wishes--how you would like to travel, and where to stop. Mr. George, however, told me to add, 'If Miss Luttrell desires to make any purchases, or requires anything in town, she is to have full liberty to obtain it.' He did not mention to what amount, but of course he intended the exercise of a certain discretion."

"I want nothing, Sir."

"That is what Mrs. Coles remarked to me: If the young lady only saw the place she was going to, she'd not think of shopping."

Kate made no answer.

"Not but, as Mrs. Coles observed, some good substantial winter clothing--that capital stuff they make now for Lower Canada--would be an excellent thing to take. You are aware, Miss, it is a perpetual winter there?"

A short nod, that might mean anything, was all her reply.

"And above all, Miss Luttrell," continued he, unabashed by her cold manner--"above all, a few books! Mr. L., from what I hear, has none that would suit a young lady's reading. His studies, it seems, are of an antiquarian order; some say--of course people _will_ say so--he dips a little into magic and the black art." Perhaps, after all, it was the study most appropriate to the place.

"I suppose it is a lonesome spot?" said she, with a faint sigh, and not well heeding what she said.

"Desolate is the name for it--desolate and deserted! I only know it by the map; but, I declare to you, I'd not pa.s.s a week on it to own the fee simple."

"And yet I am going there of my own free will, Sir," said she, with a strangely meaning smile.

"That's exactly what puzzles Mrs. C. and myself," said he, bluntly; "and, indeed, my wife went so far as to say, 'Has the dear young creature n.o.body to tell her what the place is like? Has she no friend to warn her against the life she is going to?'"

"Tell her from me, Sir, that I know it all. I saw it when I was a child, and my memory is a tenacious one. And tell her, too, that bleak and dreary as it is, I look forward to it with a longing desire, as an escape from a world of which, even the very little I have seen, has not enamoured me. And now, Sir, enough of me and my fortunes, let us talk of the road. Whenever you are sufficiently rested to begin your journey, you will find me ready."

"You'll stop probably a day in Dublin?"

"Not an hour, Sir, if I can get on. Can we leave this to-night?"

"Yes; I have ordered the carriages to take us to the pier at nine, and a cart for your luggage."

"My luggage is there, Sir," said she, pointing to the bundle, and smiling at the astonishment his face betrayed; "and when you tell your wife that, Sir, she will, perhaps, see I am better fitted for Arran than she suspected."

Albeit the daily life of Mr. Coles gave little scope to the faculty, he was by nature of an inquiring disposition, not to add that he well knew to what a rigid cross-examination he would be subjected on his return to his wife, not merely as to the look, manner, and mien of the young lady, but as to what account she gave of herself, where she came from, and, more important still, why she came.

It was his fancy, too, to imagine that he was especially adroit in extracting confidences; a belief, be it observed, very generally held by people whose palpable and pus.h.i.+ng curiosity invariably revolts a stranger, and disposes him to extreme reserve.

As they walked the deck of the steamer together, then, with a calm sea and a stilly night, he deemed the moment favourable to open his investigations.

"Ah, yes!" said he, as though addressing some interlocutor within his own bosom--"ah, yes! she will indeed feel it a terrible contrast. None of the pleasures, none of the habits of her former life; none of the joys of the family, and none of the endearments of a home!"

"Of whom were you speaking, Sir?" asked she, with a faint smile.

"Dear me I dear me I what a man I am! That's a habit my wife has been trying to break me of these fifteen years, Miss Luttrell; as she says: 'Coles, take care that you never commit a murder, or you're sure to tell it to the first person you meet.' And so is it when anything occurs to engage my deepest interest--my strongest sympathy; it's no use; do what I will, out it will come in spite of me."

"And I, Sir," said she, with a slow and measured utterance, "am exactly the reverse. I no more think of speaking my thoughts aloud, than I should dream of imparting my family secrets, if I had any, to the first stranger whose impertinent curiosity might dispose him to penetrate them."

"Indeed!" cried he, reddening with shame.

"Quite true, I a.s.sure you, Sir; and now I will wish you a goodnight, for it grows chilly here."

CHAPTER XLV. ON ARRAN

Kate was awoke from a deep sleep by the noise of the boat coming to anchor. She started up, and looked around her, unable for several seconds to recal where she was. Behind the little land-locked bay the tall mountains rose, wild and fanciful, on every side; the dark sky studded with stars above, and the still darker sea beneath, still and waveless; and then the sh.o.r.e, where lights moved rapidly hither and thither; making up a picture strangely interesting to one to whom that lone rock was to be a home, that dreary spot in the wild ocean her whole world.

There were a great many people on the sh.o.r.e awaiting her, partly out of curiosity, in part out of respect, and Molly Ryan had come down to say that his honour was not well enough to meet her, but he hoped in the morning he would be able. "You're to be the same as himself here," he says; "and every word you say is to be minded as if it was his own."

"I almost think I remember you; your face, and your voice too, seem to me as though I knew them before."