A Simple Story Part 9

The reserve with which she spoke, gave Lord Frederick immediate suspicion who was in the coach with her, and turning his head quickly, he met the stern eye of Dorriforth; upon which, without the smallest salutation, he turned from him again abruptly and rudely. Miss Milner was confused, and Miss Woodley in torture, at this palpable affront, to which Dorriforth alone appeared indifferent.

"Go on," said Miss Milner to the footman, "desire the coachman to drive on."

"No," cried Lord Frederick, "not till you have told me when I shall see you again."

"I will write you word, my Lord," replied she, something alarmed. "You shall have a letter immediately after I get home."

As if he guessed what its contents were to be, he cried out with warmth, "Take care, then, Madam, how you treat me in that letter--and you, Mr.

Dorriforth," turning to him, "do you take care what it contains; for if it is dictated by you, to you I shall send the answer."

Dorriforth, without making any reply, or casting a look at him, put his head out of the window on the opposite side, and called, in a very angry tone, to the coachman, "How dare you not drive on, when your Lady orders you?"

The sound of Dorriforth's voice in anger, was to the servants so unusual, that it acted like electricity upon the man, and he drove on at the instant with such rapidity, that Lord Frederick was in a moment left many yards behind. As soon, however, as he recovered from the surprise into which this sudden command had thrown him, he rode with speed after the carriage, and followed it, till it arrived at the door of Miss Milner's house; there, giving himself up to the rage of love, or to rage against Dorriforth for the contempt he had shewn to him, he leaped from his horse when Miss Milner stepped from her carriage, and seizing her hand, entreated her "Not to desert him, in compliance with the injunctions of monkish hypocrisy."

Dorriforth heard this, standing silently by, with a manly scorn upon his countenance.

Miss Milner struggled to loose her hand, saying, "Excuse me from replying to you now, my Lord."

In return, he lifted her hand eagerly to his lips, and began to devour it with kisses; when Dorriforth, with an instantaneous impulse, rushed forward, and struck him a violent blow in the face. Under the force of this a.s.sault, and the astonishment it excited, Lord Frederick staggered, and letting fall the hand of Miss Milner, her guardian immediately laid hold of it, and led her into the house.

She was terrified beyond description; and with extreme difficulty Mr.

Dorriforth conveyed her to her own chamber, without taking her in his arms. When, by the a.s.sistance of her maid, he had placed her upon a sofa--covered with shame and confusion for what he had done, he fell upon his knees before her, and earnestly "Entreated her forgiveness for the indelicacy he had been guilty of in her presence." And that he had alarmed her, and had forgot the respect which he thought sacredly her due, seemed the only circ.u.mstance which then dwelt upon his thoughts.

She felt the indecorum of the posture he had condescended to take, and was shocked. To see her guardian at her feet, struck her with a sense of impropriety, as if she had seen a parent there. All agitation and emotion, she implored him to rise, and, with a thousand protestations, declared, "That she thought the rashness of the action was the highest proof of his regard for her."

Miss Woodley now entered; her care being ever employed upon the unfortunate, Lord Frederick had been the object of it: she had waited by his side, and, with every good purpose, had preached patience to him, while he was smarting under the pain, but more under the shame, of his chastis.e.m.e.nt. At first, his fury threatened a retort upon the servants around him (and who refused his entrance into the house) of the punishment he had received. But, in the certainty of an _amende honorable_, which must hereafter be made, he overcame the many temptations which the moment offered, and re-mounting his horse rode away from the scene of his disgrace.

No sooner had Miss Woodley entered the room, and Dorriforth had resigned to her the care of his ward, than he flew to the spot where he had left Lord Frederick, negligent of what might be the event if he still remained there. After enquiring, and being told that he was gone, Dorriforth returned to his own apartment; and with a bosom torn by more excruciating sensations than those which he had given to his adversary.

The reflection that struck him first with remorse, as he shut the door upon himself, was:--"I have departed from my character--from the sacred character, and the dignity of my profession and sentiments--I have departed from myself. I am no longer the philosopher, but the ruffian--I have treated with an unpardonable insult a young n.o.bleman, whose only offence was love, and a fond desire to insinuate himself into the favour of his mistress. I must atone for this outrage in whatever manner he may choose; and the law of honour and of justice (though in this one instance contrary to the law of religion) enjoins, that if he demands my life in satisfaction for his wounded feelings, it is his due. Alas! that I could have laid it down this morning, unsullied with a cause for which it will make but inadequate atonement."

His next reproach was--"I have offended and filled with horror, a beautiful young woman, whom it was my duty to have protected from those brutal manners, to which I myself have exposed her."

Again--"I have drawn upon myself the just upbraidings of my faithful preceptor and friend; of the man in whose judgment it was my delight to be approved--above all, I have drawn upon myself the stings of my conscience."

"Where shall I pa.s.s this sleepless night?" cried he, walking repeatedly across his chamber; "Can I go to the ladies? I am unworthy of their society. Shall I go and repose my disturbed mind on Sandford? I am ashamed to tell him the cause of my uneasiness. Shall I go to Lord Frederick, and humbling myself before him, beg his forgiveness? He would spurn me for a coward. No"----(and he lifted up his eyes to Heaven) "Thou all great, all wise and omnipotent Being, Thou whom I have most offended, it is to Thee alone that I have recourse in this hour of tribulation, and from Thee alone I solicit comfort. And the confidence in which I now address myself to Thee, encouraged by that long intercourse which religion has effected, repays me amply in this one moment, for the many years of my past life devoted with my best, though imperfect, efforts to thy service."

CHAPTER XIV.

Although Miss Milner had not foreseen any fatal event resulting from the indignity offered to Lord Frederick, yet she pa.s.sed a night very different from those to which she had been accustomed. No sooner was she falling into a sleep, than a thousand vague, but distressing, ideas darted across her imagination. Her heart would sometimes whisper to her when she was half asleep, "Lord Frederick is banished from you for ever." She shakes off the uneasiness this idea brings along with it--she then starts, and sees the blow still aimed at him by Dorriforth. No sooner has she driven away this painful image, than she is again awakened by beholding her guardian at her feet sueing for pardon. She sighs, she trembles, and is chilled with terror.

Relieved by tears, towards the morning she sinks into a slumber, but waking, finds the same images crowding all together upon her mind: she is doubtful to which to give the preference--one, however, rushes the foremost, and continues so. She knows not the fatal consequence of ruminating, 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 to Dorriforth by her altered appearance.

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

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

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

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

The officer withdrew, and when Dorriforth was again alone, he was going once more to reflect, but he durst not. Since yesterday, reflection, for the first time, was become painful to him; and even as he rode the short way to Lord Elmwood's immediately after, he found his own thoughts were so insufferable, that he was obliged to enter into conversation with his servant. 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 was no longer welcome--he knew how different the principles which he had just adopted were to those of that reverend friend, and without his complaining, or even suspecting what had happened, his presence was a sufficient reproach. He pa.s.sed him as hastily as he could, and enquiring for Lord Elmwood, disclosed to him his errand. It was to ask him to be his second;--the young Earl started, and wished to consult his tutor, but that, his kinsman strictly forbade; and having urged his reasons with arguments, which at least _he_ could not refute, he was at length prevailed 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 to be there at seven on the same evening.

As soon as his business with Lord Elmwood was settled, Dorriforth returned home, to make preparations for the event which might ensue from this meeting. He wrote letters to several of his friends, and one to his ward, in writing which, he could with difficulty preserve the usual firmness of his mind. Sandford going into Lord Elmwood's library soon after his relation had left him, expressed his surprise at finding he was gone; upon which that n.o.bleman having answered a few questions, and given 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 for the cause of the challenge, but was still more enraged at his wickedness in accepting it. He applauded his pupil's virtue in making the discovery, and congratulated himself that he should be the instrument of saving not only his friend's life, but of preventing the scandal of his being engaged in a duel.

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

He asked for Dorriforth, went hastily into his apartment, and poured upon him a torrent of rebukes. Dorriforth bore all he said with the patience of a devotee, but with the firmness of a man. He owned his fault, but no eloquence could make him recall the promise he had given to repair the injury. Unshaken by the arguments, persuasions, and menaces of Sandford, he gave an additional proof of that inflexibility for which he had been long distinguished--and after a dispute of two hours, they parted, neither of them the better for what either had advanced, but Dorriforth something the worse; his conscience gave testimony to Sandford's opinion, "that he was bound by ties more sacred than worldly honour." But while he owned, he would not yield to the duty.

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

In pa.s.sing through the house on his return home, Sandford met, by accident, Mrs. Horton, Miss Milner, and the other two ladies returning from a saunter in the garden. Surprised at the sight of Mr. Sandford in her house, Miss Milner would not express that surprise, but going up to him with all the friendly benevolence which in general played about her heart, she took hold of one of his hands, and pressed it with a kindness which told him more forcibly that he was welcome, than if she had made the most elaborate speech to convince him of it. He, however, seemed little touched with her behaviour, and as an excuse for breaking his word, cried,

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

"Murder!" exclaimed all the ladies.

"Yes," answered he, addressing himself to Miss Fenton, "your betrothed husband is a party concerned; he is going to be second to Mr.

Dorriforth, who means this very evening to be killed by my Lord Frederick, or to kill him, in addition to the blow that he gave him last night."

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 the floor.

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

Informed of the cause of her indisposition, he followed Miss Woodley with a tender anxiety for her health, and with grief and confusion that he had so carelessly endangered it. On his entering the room Sandford beheld 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 to Sandford. He placed himself on the settee by her, and with the utmost tenderness, reverence, and pity, entreated her not to be concerned at an accident in which he, and he alone, had been to blame; but which he had no doubt would be accommodated in the most amicable manner.

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

He hesitated.