CHAPTER V
THE SEVENTH NIGHT
It was a delicious morning in May, and the sun shone brightly onAuriol's gorgeous equipage, as he drove to St. George's, Hanover Square,where he was united to Edith. Thus far all seemed auspicious, and hethought he could now bill defiance to fate. With the object of his loveclose beside him, and linked to him by the strongest and holiest ties,it seemed impossible she could be snatched from him. Nothing occurredduring the morning to give him uneasiness, and he gave orders that acarriage and four should be ready an hour before midnight, to convey himand his bride to Richmond, where they were to spend their honeymoon.
Night came, and with it began to arrive the guests who were bidden tothe ball. No expense had been spared by Auriol to give splendour to hisfete. It was in all respects magnificent. The amusements of the eveningcommenced with a concert, which was performed by the first singers fromthe Italian Opera; after which, the ball was opened by Auriol and hislovely bride. As soon as the dance was over, Auriol made a sign to anattendant, who instantly disappeared.
"Are you prepared to quit this gay scene with me, Edith?" he asked, witha heart swelling with rapture.
The significant whisper.]
"Quite so," she replied, gazing at him with tenderness; "I long to bealone with you."
"Come, then," said Auriol.
Edith arose, and passing her arm under that of her husband, they quittedthe ball-room, but in place of descending the principal staircase, theytook a more private course. The hall, which they were obliged to cross,and which they entered from a side-door, was spacious and beautifullyproportioned, and adorned with numerous statues on pedestals. Theceiling was decorated with fresco paintings, and supported by twostately scagliola pillars. From between these, a broad staircase ofwhite marble ascended to the upper room. As Auriol had foreseen, thestaircase was thronged with guests ascending to the ball-room, the doorsof which being open, afforded glimpses of the dancers, and gave forthstrains of liveliest music. Anxious to avoid a newly-arrived party inthe hall, Auriol and his bride lingered for a moment near a pillar.
"Ha! who is this?" cried Edith, as a tall man, with a sinistercountenance, and habited entirely in black, moved from the farther sideof the pillar, and planted himself in their path, with his back partlytowards them.
A thrill of apprehension passed through Auriol's frame. He looked up andbeheld Rougemont, who, glancing over his shoulder, fixed his malignantgaze upon him. Retreat was now impossible.
"You thought to delude me," said Rougemont, in a deep whisper, audibleonly to Auriol; "but you counted without your host. I am come to claimmy victim."
"What is the matter with you, that you tremble so, dear Auriol?" criedEdith. "Who is this strange person?"
But her husband returned no answer. Terror had taken away his power ofutterance.
"Your carriage waits for you at the door, madam--all is prepared," saidRougemont, advancing towards her, and taking her hand.
"You are coming, Auriol?" cried Edith, who scarcely knew whether to drawback or go forward.
"Yes--yes," cried Auriol, who fancied he saw a means of escape. "This ismy friend, Mr. Rougemont--go with him."
"Mr. Rougemont!" cried Edith. "You told my father he would not be here."
"Your husband did not invite me, madam," said Rougemont, with sarcasticemphasis; "but knowing I should be welcome, I came unasked. But let usavoid those persons."
In another moment they were at the door. The carriage was there with itsfour horses, and a man-servant, in travelling attire, stood beside thesteps. Reassured by the sight, Auriol recovered his courage, andsuffered Rougemont to throw a cloak over Edith's shoulders. The nextmoment she tripped up the steps of the carriage, and was ensconcedwithin it. Auriol was about to follow her, when he received a violentblow on the chest, which stretched him on the pavement. Before he couldregain his feet, Rougemont had sprung into the carriage. The steps wereinstantly put up by the man-servant, who mounted the box with the utmostcelerity, while the postillions, plunging spurs into their horses,dashed off with lightning speed. As the carriage turned the corner ofKing Street, Auriol, who had just arisen, beheld, by the light of alamp, Rougemont's face at the window of the carriage, charged with anexpression of the most fiendish triumph.
"What is the matter?" cried Mr. Talbot, who had approached Auriol, "Icame to bid you good-bye. Why do I find you here alone? Where is thecarriage?--what has become of Edith?"
"She is in the power of the Fiend, and I have sold her to him," repliedAuriol gloomily.
"What mean you, wretch?" cried Mr. Talbot, in a voice of distraction. "Iheard that Cyprian Rougemont was here. Can it be he that has gone offwith her?"
"You have hit the truth," replied Auriol. "He bought her with the moneyI gave you. I have sold her and myself to perdition!"
"Horror!" exclaimed the old man, falling backwards.
"Ay, breathe your last--breathe your last!" cried Auriol wildly. "WouldI could yield up my life, likewise!"
And he hurried away, utterly unconscious whither he went.
END OF THE INTERMEAN
BOOK THE SECOND
_CYPRIAN ROUGEMONT_