CHAPTER XXXI.
Leaving poor Diggory Falgate to find his way out of the vault as besthe might, or, if he rather chose to stay there, to make whatdiscoveries he could, we must return by the reader's good leave tosome of the more important personages of our tale; premising, however,that although we have dwelt thus long upon the adventures of theworthy sign-painter, those adventures were by no means without theirinfluence upon the fate of the other personages in their history. Wemust also pass over a period of several days since last we were atLangley Hall, allowing the reader's imagination to supply the few andquiet changes which time had brought about, no event of anyconsequence having taken place in the interim.
It was a warm and glowing evening, though Autumn had spread his brownmantle over the trees; and while fair Arrah Neil and Lady MargaretLangley sat in the old lady's usual drawing-room, with the windowsopen as in midsummer, Annie Walton was seated under a little clump ofbeeches at the back of Langley Hall, the Earl of Beverley, somewhatrecovered from his wound, stretched on the dry grass at her feet.
They were happy enough to enjoy long pauses in conversation; for theirmutual love, as the reader has already been given to understand, wasknown and acknowledged by each; and their minds, starting from onecommon point, would run on in meditation along paths, separate indeed,but not far distant, and then, like children playing in a meadow,would return to show each other what flowers they had gathered.
"How calm and sweet the evening is!" said the earl, after one of thesebreaks. "One would hardly fancy the year so far advanced. I love thesesummer days in autumn, dearest. They often make me look on to afteryears, and think of the tempered joys and tranquil pleasures of oldage, calling up the grand picture of latter life left us by a greatRoman orator, when the too vivid sun of youth and manhood has somewhatsunk in the sky, and we have freshness as well as warmth, though notthe fervid heat of midsummer."
"I love them too," answered Miss Walton; "and I think that in everyseason of the year there are days and hours of great beauty andgrandeur. Though I like the early summer best, yet I can admire theclear winter sky, and the dazzling expanse of white that robes thewhole earth as if in ermine, and even the autumnal storm with itsfierce blast, loaded with sleet, and hail, and withered leaves. But Iwas thinking, Francis, of how peaceful all things seem around, andwhat a horrible and sinful thing it is for men to deform the beautifulearth, and disturb the quiet of all God's creation with wild wars andsenseless contests."
"A woman's thought, dear Annie," replied the earl, "and doubtless it_is_ sinful; but, alas? the sin is shared amongst so many, that itwould in any war be difficult to portion it out. 'Tis not alone to bedivided amongst those who fight or amongst those who lead; it is notto be laid at the door of those who first take arms or those whofollow; it is not to be charged to the apparent aggressor: but everyone who, by folly, weakness, passion, prejudice, or hatred, lays thefoundation for strife in after years, has a share in the crime. Oh!how many are the causes of war! Deeds often remote by centuries havetheir part; and always many an act done long before rises up--like anacorn buried in the ground and springing up into a tree--and is theseed from which after contentions spring. Even in this very contest inwhich we are now engaged, though we may see and say who is now rightand who is wrong, yet what man can separate the complex threads of thetangled skein of the past, and tell who most contributed to bringabout that state which all wise men must regret? Years, long yearsbefore this, the foundation was laid in the tyranny of Henry, in theproud sway of Elizabeth, in the weak despotism of James, in thepersecution of the Papists of one reign, in that of the Puritans inanother; in lavish expenditure, in vicious indulgence, in favouritismand minions, in the craving ambition of some subjects, in thediscontented spirit of others, in the interested selfishness, theoffended vanity, the mortified pride of thousands; in weak yieldingsto unjust demands, in stubborn resistance of just claims, in fondadherence to ancient forms, in an insatiate love of novelty andchange: and all this spread through generations, dear Annie, all ofwhich have their part in the result and the responsibility."
"Too wide a range, Francis, for my weak mind to take in," replied thelady; "but I do know it is sad to see a land that once seemed happyoverspread with rapine and wrong, and deluged in blood."
"To hear no more the church-bells ringing gaily," said the earl with asmile, "or to see the market and the fair deserted. These may indeedseem trivial things; but yet they are amongst those that bring home toour hearts most closely the disruption of all those ties that bind mentogether in social union."
"But there are in the home of every one more terrible proofs than thatof the great evil," answered Miss Walton. "Never to see a friend, abrother, a father, quit our side without the long train of fearfulinquiries--When shall I see him again? Will it be for ever? How shallwe meet, and where? Oh, Francis! how many a heart feels this like minethroughout the land! Danger, accident, and death, at other times dim,distant forms that we hardly see, are now become familiar thoughts,the companions of every fireside; and calm security and smiling hopeare banished afar, as if never to return."
"Oh! they will come back, dear Annie," replied the earl. "This is aworld of change. The April day of man's fluctuating passions has nevercloud or sunshine long. No sooner does the calm light of peaceoverspread the sky than storms are seen gathering on the horizon; andno sooner do war and tumult imitate the tempest in destruction andruin than a glimpse of the blue heaven gleams through the shadow, andgives promise of brighter moments at another hour."
"But that hour is often a lifetime," answered the lady. "We are but atthe beginning shall we ever see the close?"
"Who can say?" rejoined Lord Beverley; "but one thing is certain,Annie. We are under God's will, my beloved. He can lengthen or shortenthe time of trial at his pleasure; we ourselves, and all the men withwhom or against whom we may act, are but his instruments. We can nomore stride beyond the barrier he has fixed than the sea can pass theboundary of sands with which he has surrounded it. Our task is to dothat which we conscientiously believe it is our duty to him to do inthe circumstances wherein he has placed us; and we may be sure that,however much we may be mistaken, if such is our object and purpose,the errors of understanding will never be visited on our heads ascrimes by him who knows the capabilities of every creature that he hasmade, and can judge between intention and execution. God punishes sinsand not mistakes, dear girl; he tries the heart as well as theactions, and holds the balance even between each; and though we maysuffer in this world for the errors of others or for our own, there isexhaustless compensation in the hand of the Almighty for those whoseek to do his will, and those who wilfully disobey it."
"I have learned a lesson on that score from the dear girl withinthere," replied Miss Walton; and as she spoke she naturally turned hereyes to the room where she knew Arrah Neil was sitting. "What can bethe matter?" she continued instantly: "see! Arrah is making eagersigns to us to come in!"
The earl rose slowly and with difficulty; and before he had advancedmore than a step or two with Annie Walton, who hastened anxiously toreturn to the house, Arrah Neil, with her sunny brown hair floatingwildly about her face, came running out to meet them.
"Quick, quick, my lord, for pity's sake!" she cried "there is a largebody of men before the drawbridge. The people are holding them inparley; the Lady Margaret says she can conceal you from all eyes ifyou make haste." She spoke with breathless eagerness; and LordBeverley hurried his pace as much as possible, but with perfectcalmness, turning with a smile to Annie Walton, and saying--
"Fresh evils of civil war, Annie; but I fear not the result."
The time occupied in crossing to the house seemed fearfully long toMiss Walton and Arrah Neil; but they found Lady Margaret waitingtranquilly enough at the small door that led into the meadow, and theold lady's only words were--
"Follow;" to the earl; and "Wait in the withdrawing-room--they willnot let them in till I order it," to her two fair guests. Then le
adingthe way with a calm step, she conducted Lord Beverley up the samestairs and through the same passages which she had followed with herniece on the first night of her stay at Langley Hall; but turning alittle to the right at the door of Annie Walton's chamber, she broughtthe earl into a small detached room, which seemed isolated from everyother part of the building.
"Here you will be safe," she said.
"I think not, dear Lady Margaret," replied Lord Beverley, with a smileat what he thought her want of experience in such matters.
"We will see," she answered, advancing to the other side of the room,where stood a huge antique fireplace, with a chimney-piece of richwrought stone. "No moving pictures, no sliding panels here," said LadyMargaret; "but place your hand upon that pillar, my good lord, andpush it strongly--more strongly towards the hearth. There," shecontinued, as the whole mass swung back, displaying an aperture largeenough for a man to pass, but not without stooping; "you will find abolt within which will make it as fast as masonry. The stairs lead youinto rooms below, where no one can come without my leave. You shall besupplied with all you want.--But, hark! On my life, they have let themen in! Quick, my lord, and bolt the door. I will send somebody soonbut I must go down lest those girls make some mistake if questioned."
Lord Beverley entered at once, and feeling over the face of the stonefor the bolt, pushed it home, and made the whole secure. He thenpaused and listened, waiting patiently for several minutes. At firsthe could hear no sound in the remote and well-covered place where hewas concealed; but at length he caught the noise of voices and stepsrunning hither and thither in the house. They came near, passed awayinto other chambers on the left, returned, sounded in the passage, andthen in the adjoining room. He could perceive that several menentered, examined the wainscot, tried every panel, moved every articleof furniture, and at length shook the mantel-piece and the stonepillars on either side of the chimney; but the bolt held close andfast, and the receding steps showed him that these unwelcome visitershad turned their course elsewhere.