The Weird Of The Wentworths Volume I Part 29

"It is indeed a mystery," she thought; "what if it be a trick of the Earl's to try my fidelity--but no, he couldn't do so--and yet all is so strange--there must be more than I guess in it--I will wait and see, at the last I have still the worst, maybe; but at the worst, I have still the last friend to end my woe."

Through that day nothing particularly occurred; and again darkness came, again Ellen refused to retire unless she had Juana's word for her safety; it was given, and that night she actually slept. Another, and another, and still another day wore by--still she had seen no living soul but Juana and Jeanie Forbes, and she began half to lose her fears--half to despair. The first, because long acquaintance with misery naturally takes off the keenness of its sting, and she was so fully prepared for the worst, the present seemed quite bright; the last, because several days had now pa.s.sed, and yet no succour came. Could Lord Wentworth have waxed cold? Could her father forget, or had some fearful deception been practised on them? Left together night and day, the two girls naturally drew to each other; in everything they were entire opposites, not only in their remote styles of beauty, but in character; and, perhaps, for this reason, like the different electric currents, they attracted each other the more. Juana admired the fair Saxon beauty, not so much because of her dazzling complexion, so pure and sunny, though now shaded by grief,--not so much from her fair tresses, and melting blue eyes,--as for the high toned principle--the lofty mind--firm resolve, and patient endurance she displayed under her trying ordeal; and Ellen admired not so much the ebon hair--large dazzling eyes--and brilliant colouring of the fair Spaniard, as she did the full fervour of her character, and the warm affections of one who was--

"Warm as her clime and sunny as her skies."

They used to talk together for hours--generally Ellen was the listener, and much was she absorbed by the wild tales of other zones Juana could tell. One thing Ellen had ceased to ask, and that was why she was there.

Juana seemed above all entreaty, and kept her secret as the rock does its hidden spring: it required a prophet's stroke to make it unlock its waters! Days went on, and still no explanation either by word or deed came. Sat.u.r.day night wore through, and Sunday morning dawned; Ellen had now been a week and more in captivity, and still it was unexplained. She had never once been outside the castle, but late on Sunday afternoon Juana told her, if she liked to breathe the fresh air she might come out for an hour or so with her, on condition she promised she would make no attempt to regain her freedom.

"Alas! to what purpose, Antonia?" replied Ellen, for by this name she only knew her; "how could I fly with such strict watchers?"

The two friends--for so they had become--now descended the tower, and walked on the green gra.s.s. It was a delightful evening--the sun was setting among clouds of every gorgeous hue--his...o...b..was then hidden behind a dark ma.s.s, whose edges were crimsoned by his rays; above the cloud the sky was of the darkest black-blue, and beyond this his beams shot out in iridescent lines, like the rays that emblazon the heraldic scroll--higher still mackerel clouds floated in the blue ether, dyed gold, and crimson, and between their vistas the unfathomable depths of air were clear and transparent, so that the eye could pierce their far deeps, and discern how near the loftiest clouds in comparison floated above earth! In the east the full moon was rising, and the cold blue light of the latter, compared with the warm colouring of the sunset, was striking. The friends sat down on the mossy stone, and each for a time seemed too much occupied with her own thoughts to speak. Ellen was thinking on the picnic, and how not long ago on a night like this she had danced on that gra.s.s with him she loved. Oh! had any one told her then that one short month after she would again sit on that stone, a prisoner, and parted from him, she would not have believed it. Juana was thinking how on that stone she had sat, when she personated the Italian, how he she also loved, but who loved not her, had given her the ring she now treasured in her bosom.

"Antonia," said Ellen, "a month ago I sat here so happy--alas! I fear I shall never be so again."

"Miss Ravensworth, a month ago I sat on this stone; I was then miserable, I may yet be happy."

"Ah! our circ.u.mstances are then altered, but when did you sit here before?"

"Often--but this day last month as far as I remember--I sat here very unhappy!"

"Impossible! a month ago there was a gay picnic here, how could you have been here? you were not there."

"Easily; you remember the Italian boy, who played and sung--that boy was I--is it not now explained?"

"Oh! merciful Heavens--that boy you--yes, I know the voice now. Oh!

there is a deep, deep plot! Antonia, if you love me, tell me all. How strange! I seem to see things differently. Oh! who are you, mysterious maiden?"

"I cannot, remember your promise not to ask me, but the explanation will not now be distant--to-night it will come. Have you the dagger still?"

"Oh! Antonia, you alarm me; it is true, I was beginning to grow forgetful; then, the trial is at hand; you shall see I can be firm to death!"

"Poor girl, I pity you from my heart!"

"Then, why not let deeds show your pity--let me fly."

"I dare not, lady! I dare not. I was sworn by the blessed Virgin--you would not I should break my oath!"

"Then, let it come; you will see how Ellen can die, if that death only saves her from dishonour!"

"Let me see your blade; is it sharp?"

"Behold it," said Ellen, drawing it forth. The blade was very elaborately engraved with Indian devices; along the centre was carved the owner's name--George Elliot Ravensworth. The steel was very bright--the handle formed of silver finely chased.

"Let me have it in my hands?"

"You won't betray your trust, you won't deprive me of my only, sad comfort."

"Trust me."

"I will," said Ellen, "falsehood never shaded that fair brow."

Juana took the weapon, and then read the name.

"What! did you say this was your brother's?"

"Yes, my poor George's; he is now dead!"

"Oh, my G.o.d!" cried Juana, "and have I lived to see his sister?"

"Antonia, what is this?--surely my life is charmed--what now?"

"Ellen, my own sister--my dearest--n.o.blest--best--beloved sister," and with her native warmth of character she threw herself on Ellen, and kissed her again and again.

"Antonia, dearest Antonia, what is it all?"

"Enough, moments are priceless; they are near--but there is yet ample time. Ellen, I will save you, I may compromise my life, but I will save you; nay, thank me not now, hear me."

"n.o.ble girl, you shall not; if you save me, you shall be safe too, you will go with me--nothing shall sever us."

"Listen, Ellen; some of my life I have told you, never this part. When I was in America I was once nearly drowned by the upsetting of a boat; I was rescued by a n.o.ble young officer,--he was your brother George. I will not delay by narrating details, suffice to say we became deeply in love--we were to be married! Lady, I am not what I seem, my blood is as high as thine, nay doubtless far higher! but death separated us. George died, I closed his eyes, I followed him to the dark tomb, and there I left my heart. I came to England; I was introduced to Lord Wentworth--I will not hide any thing--I accepted his love. Oh, I loved him well, and he loved me too once,--till, lady, he met you again,--he then left me, not as many another would have done, he left me with house and fortune.

Nothing could make up for lost love; I became miserable, I then came to Scotland. There are those who strive to get us married, for under that promise I stooped to become the unhappy woman I did; it was untrue, he never gave me that promise, I was duped, I will not say by whom. For this reason, Ellen, you are here; for this reason I became the mock Italian, and secreted near the cave, heard Lord Wentworth propose, and you accept him, only on condition he never spoke to myself again. Lady, I honour you for it. This is my tale. I am Juana Ferraras! I will save you yet; you shall be the happy wife of him you love so well, I will sink to be the deserted, hopeless wreck I was before,--your marriage destroys my last chance. When you are happy, Ellen, sometimes at such an hour as this, when eve falls drear, you will think of her who parted with her last hope, who gave up all to make you happy!"

"I will, n.o.ble, dear girl, I will; but it shall not so be; you shall live near us, you shall be like a sister. You Juana Ferraras!--now I see all."

"It is vain, lady, I could not dwell on the same sh.o.r.e with him--we are severed for ever. I will not speak to him except once more to procure your freedom: let us hasten in--time presses--I may be too late--there is danger near you--be not too sanguine, I will do my best."

The two friends hurried up the stairs: they reached the room, and then Juana said, "Promise me on your honour you will not leave this chamber; all depends on your staying."

"I will give my word of honour."

"I believe you; now, Ellen, I hasten to perform a deed which will, I am sure, cover a mult.i.tude of my errors."

"Adieu! G.o.d speed you my n.o.ble, dear friend."

"Adieu! I will do what I can--I will do my best--but remember I may be too late--the way is far, and the hour near. Is your dagger free in its sheath?"

With these ominous words Juana left, after first embracing Ellen like a sister, as she might indeed have proved but for George Ravensworth's early death. When she was gone Ellen bolted the door, and then loosened her dagger.

"Danger near, and of what kind?" she asked herself. "I am prepared. Oh!

my G.o.d grant she may arrive in time. Oh, let me not have to die with rescue and hope so near." She then sat down, and thought of all these strange events. How wonderful all seemed! How pa.s.sing strange! Juana her brother's love--her lover's mistress--the Italian minstrel! How would she rescue her from her coming danger, and what was that danger? Then she thought of Juana's n.o.ble self-denial, and all for her, because she loved her departed brother--this was love! With these and a thousand other thoughts her mind was busy, and two hours glided imperceptibly away.

The daylight had now quite faded, and in its place the cold beam of the moon shone through the barred lattice, and softly travelled across the floor. The room was quite light, for the full orb was directly in front, but it was a chilly, ghastly light. Ellen, wrapped in her own thoughts, did not allow her mind to dwell on this, when all at once she thought she heard footsteps on the stairs. It must be fancy; but no! distinct and clear she heard them again. Oh! mercy above; the danger was come, and Juana not returned. It might be the Earl though, and she flew across the room to the door. She heard rude voices! it was not him, and she double barred the door.

"At least," she thought, "it will guard me for a time."

She felt if her blade was secure--it was beneath the folds of her dress.

She stood in awful suspense, as near the door as she could--the footsteps drew nearer and several oaths struck her ears. She knew the voice, but in her dismay could not think whose it was--there seemed to be several men, as far as she could judge, ascending the steps. They landed on the pa.s.sage--another moment of awful agony, of breathless apprehension, and the handle of the lock was tried.

"Thousand devils, it's bolted. Tony, open wench!" said a harsh voice she knew to be Antonia's or Juana's father.