Read Cecilia; Or, Memoirs of an Heiress — Volume 3 Page 28


  CHAPTER vii.

  A PURSUIT.

  The moment the porter came to the door, Cecilia eagerly called out fromthe coach, "Is Mr Delvile here?"

  "Yes, madam," he answered, "but I believe he is engaged."

  "Oh no matter for any engagement!" cried she, "on the door,--I must speakto him this moment!"

  "If you will please to step into the parlour, madam, I will tellhis gentleman you are here; but he will be much displeased if he isdisturbed without notice."

  "Ah heaven!" exclaimed she, "what Mr Delvile are you talking of?"

  "My master, madam."

  Cecilia, who had got out of the coach, now hastily returned to it,and was some time in too great agony to answer either the porter, whodesired some message, or the coachman, who asked whither he was todrive. To see Mr Delvile, unprotected by his son, and contrary to hisorders, appeared to her insupportable; yet to what place could she go?where was she likely to meet with Delvile? how could he find her if shewent to Mrs Hill's? and in what other house could she at present claimadmittance?

  After a little recovering from this cruel shock, she ventured, though ina faultering voice, to enquire whether young Mr Delvile had been there?

  "Yes, madam," the porter answered; "we thought he was abroad, but hecalled just now, and asked if any lady had been at the house. He wouldnot even stay to go up to my master, and we have not dared tell him ofhis arrival."

  This a little revived her; to hear that he had actually been enquiringfor her, at least assured her of his safety from any immediate violence,and she began to hope she might now possibly meet with him timeenough to explain all that had past in his absence, and occasioned herseemingly strange and suspicious situation at Belfield's. She compelledherself, therefore, to summon courage for seeing his father, since, ashe had directed her to the house, she concluded he would return there toseek her, when he had wandered elsewhere to no purpose.

  She then, though with much timidity and reluctance, sent a message to MrDelvile to entreat a moment's audience.

  An answer was brought her that he saw no company so late at night.

  Losing now all dread of his reproaches, in her superior dread of missingDelvile, she called out earnestly to the man, "Tell him, Sir, I beseechhim not to refuse me! tell him I have something to communicate thatrequires his immediate attention!"

  The servant obeyed; but soon returning, said his master desired him toacquaint her he was engaged every moment he stayed in town, and mustpositively decline seeing her.

  "Go to him again," cried the harassed Cecilia, "assure him I come notfrom myself, but by the desire of one he most values: tell him I entreatbut permission to wait an hour in his house, and that I have no otherplace in the world whither I can go!"

  Mr Delvile's own gentleman brought, with evident concern, the answerto this petition; which was, that while the Honourable Mr Delvile washimself alive, he thought the desire of any other person concerning hishouse, was taking with him a very extraordinary liberty; and that he wasnow going to bed, and had given orders to his servants to carry him nomore messages whatsoever, upon pain of instant dismission.

  Cecilia now seemed totally destitute of all resource, and for a fewdreadful minutes, gave herself up to utter despondency: nor, when sherecovered her presence of mind, could she form any better plan than thatof waiting in the coach to watch the return of Delvile.

  She told the coachman, therefore, to drive to a corner of the square,begging Mr Simkins to have patience, which he promised with muchreadiness, and endeavoured to give her comfort, by talking withoutcessation.

  She waited here near half an hour. She then feared the disappointment ofDelvile in not meeting her at first, had made him conclude she meantnot to obey his directions, and had perhaps urged him to call again uponBelfield, whom he might fancy privy to her non-appearance. This wasnew horror to her, and she resolved at all risks to drive toPortland-street, and enquire if Belfield himself was returned home. Yet,lest they should mutually be pursuing each other all night, she stoptagain at Mr Delvile's, and left word with the porter, that if young MrDelvile should come home, he would hear of the person he was enquiringfor at Mrs Roberts's in Fetter-lane. To Belfield's she did not dareto direct him; and it was her intention, if there she procured no newintelligence, to leave the same message, and then go to Mrs Robertswithout further delay. To make such an arrangement with a servant whoknew not her connection with his young master, was extremely repugnantto her; but the exigence was too urgent for scruples, and there wasnothing to which she would not have consented, to prevent the fatalcatastrophe she apprehended.

  When she came to Belfield's, not daring to enter the house, she sent inMr Simkins, to desire that Mrs Belfield would be so good as to step tothe coach door.

  "Is your son, madam," she cried, eagerly, "come home? and is any bodywith him?"

  "No, ma'am; he has never once been across the threshold since thatgentleman took him out; and I am half out of my wits to think"--

  "Has that gentleman," interrupted Cecilia, "been here anymore?"

  "Yes, ma'am, that's what I was going to tell you; he came again justnow, and said"--

  "Just now?--good heaven!--and which way is he gone?"

  "Why he is after no good, I am afraid, for he was in a great passion,and would hardly hear any thing I said."

  "Pray, pray answer me quick!--where, which way did he go?"

  "Why, he asked me if I knew whither my son was come from the * *coffee-house; why, says I, I'm sure I can't tell, for if it had not beenfor Mr Simkins, I should not so much as have known he ever went to the* * coffee-house; however, I hope he a'n't come away, because if he is,poor Miss Beverley will have had all that trouble for nothing; for she'sgone after him in a prodigious hurry; and upon my only saying that, heseemed quite beside himself, and said, if I don't meet with your son atthe * * coffee-house myself, pray, when he comes in, tell him I shall behighly obliged to him to call there; and then he went away, in as greata pet as ever you saw."

  Cecilia listened to this account with the utmost terror and misery; thesuspicions of Delvile would now be aggravated, and the message hehad left for Belfield, would by him be regarded as a defiance. Again,however, to the * * coffee-house she instantly ordered the coach, animmediate explanation from herself seeming the only possible chance forpreventing the most horrible conclusion to this unfortunate and eventfulevening.

  She was still accompanied by Mr Simkins, and, but that she attended tonothing he said, would not inconsiderably have been tormented by hisconversation. She sent him immediately into the coffee-room, to enquireif either of the gentlemen were then in the house.

  He returned to her with a waiter, who said, "One of them, madam, calledagain just now, but he only stopt to write a note, which he left to begiven to the gentleman who came with him at first. He is but this momentgone, and I don't think he can be at the bottom of the street."

  "Oh drive then, gallop after him!"--cried Cecilia; "coachman! go thismoment!"

  "My horses are tired," said the man, "they have been out all day, andthey will gallop no further, if I don't stop and give them a drink."

  Cecilia, too full of hope and impatience for this delay, forced openthe door herself, and without saying another word, jumped out of thecarriage, with intention to run down the street; but the coachmanimmediately seizing her, protested she should not stir till he was paid.

  In the utmost agony of mind at an hindrance by which she imaginedDelvile would be lost to her perhaps for ever, she put her hand in herpocket, in order to give up her purse for her liberty; but Mr Simkins,who was making a tiresome expostulation with the coachman, took ithimself, and declaring he would not see the lady cheated, began atedious calculation of his fare.

  "O pay him any thing!" cried she, "and let us be gone! an instant'sdelay may be fatal!"

  Mr Simkins, too earnest to conquer the coachman to attend to herdistress, continued his prolix harangue concerning a disputed shilling,appealing to some gathering spectators upo
n the justice of his cause;while his adversary, who was far from sober, still held Cecilia, sayingthe coach had been hired for the lady, and he would be paid by herself.

  "Good God!" cried the agitated Cecilia,--"give him my purse atonce!--give him every thing he desires!"--

  The coachman, at this permission, encreased his demands, and Mr Simkins,taking the number of his coach, protested he would summons him to theCourt of Conscience the next morning. A gentleman, who then came outof the coffee-house, offered to assist the lady, but the coachman, whostill held her arm, swore he would have his right.

  "Let me go! let me pass!" cried she, with encreasing eagerness andemotion; "detain me at your peril!--release me this moment--only let merun to the end of the street,--good God! good Heaven! detain me not formercy!"

  Mr Simkins, humbly desiring her not to be in haste, began a formalapology for his conduct; but the inebriety of the coachman becameevident; a mob was collecting; Cecilia, breathless with vehemence andterror, was encircled, yet struggled in vain to break away; and thestranger gentleman, protesting, with sundry compliments, he wouldhimself take care of her, very freely seized her hand.

  This moment, for the unhappy Cecilia, teemed with calamity; she waswholly overpowered; terror for Delvile, horror for herself, hurry,confusion, heat and fatigue, all assailing her at once, while all meansof repelling them were denied her, the attack was too strong for herfears, feelings, and faculties, and her reason suddenly, yet totallyfailing her, she madly called out, "He will be gone! he will be gone!and I must follow him to Nice!"

  The gentleman now retreated; but Mr Simkins, who was talking to the mob,did not hear her; and the coachman, too much intoxicated to perceive herrising frenzy, persisted in detaining her.

  "I am going to France!" cried she, still more wildly, "why do you stopme? he will die if I do not see him, he will bleed to death!"

  The coachman, still unmoved, began to grow very abusive; but thestranger, touched by compassion, gave up his attempted gallantry, and MrSimkins, much astonished, entreated her not to be frightened: she was,however, in no condition to listen to him; with a strength hithertounknown to her, she forcibly disengaged herself from her persecutors;yet her senses were wholly disordered; she forgot her situation, herintention, and herself; the single idea of Delvile's danger took solepossession of her brain, though all connection with its occasion waslost, and the moment she was released, she fervently clasped her hands,exclaiming, "I will yet heal his wound, even at the hazard of my life!"and springing forward, was almost instantly out of sight.

  Mr Simkins now, much alarmed, and earnestly calling after her, enteredinto a compromise with the coachman, that he might attend her; but thelength of his negociation defeated its purpose, and before he wasat liberty to follow her, all trace was lost by which he might haveovertaken her. He stopt every passenger he met to make enquiries, butthough they led him on some way, they led him on in vain; and, aftera useless and ill-managed pursuit, he went quietly to his own home,determining to acquaint Mrs Belfield with what had happened the nextmorning.

  Mean while the frantic Cecilia escaped both pursuit and insult by thevelocity of her own motion. She called aloud upon Delvile as she flew tothe end of the street. No Delvile was there!--she turned the corner;yet saw nothing of him; she still went on, though unknowing whither,the distraction of her mind every instant growing greater, from theinflammation of fatigue, heat, and disappointment. She was spoken torepeatedly; she was even caught once or twice by her riding habit; butshe forced herself along by her own vehement rapidity, not hearing whatwas said, nor heeding what was thought. Delvile, bleeding by the arm ofBelfield, was the image before her eyes, and took such full possessionof her senses, that still, as she ran on, she fancied it in view. Shescarce touched the ground; she scarce felt her own motion; she seemedas if endued with supernatural speed, gliding from place to place, fromstreet to street; with no consciousness of any plan, and following noother direction than that of darting forward where-ever there was mostroom, and turning back when she met with any obstruction; till quitespent and exhausted, she abruptly ran into a yet open shop, where,breathless and panting, she sunk upon the floor, and, with a lookdisconsolate and helpless, sat for some time without speaking.

  The people of the house, concluding at first she was a woman of thetown, were going roughly to turn her out; but soon seeing their mistake,by the evident distraction of her air and manner, they enquired of someidle people who, late as it was, had followed her, if any of them knewwho she was, or whence she came?

  They could give no account of her, but supposed she was broke loose fromBedlam.

  Cecilia then, wildly starting up, exclaimed, "No, no,--I am not mad,--Iam going to Nice--to my husband."

  "She's quite crazy," said the man of the house, who was a Pawn-Broker;"we had better get rid of her before she grows mischievous--"

  "She's somebody broke out from a private mad house, I dare say," said aman who had followed her into the shop; "and if you were to take care ofher a little while, ten to one but you'll get a reward for it."

  "She's a gentlewoman, sure enough," said the mistress of the house,"because she's got such good things on."

  And then, under pretence of trying to find some direction to her upona letter, or paper, she insisted upon searching her pockets: here,however, she was disappointed in her expectations: her purse was in thecustody of Mr Simkins, but neither her terror nor distress had saved herfrom the daring dexterity of villainy, and her pockets, in the mob,had been rifled of whatever else they contained. The woman thereforehesitated some time whether to take charge of her or, not: but beingurged by the man who made the proposal, and who said they might dependupon seeing her soon advertised, as having escaped from her keepers,they ventured to undertake her.

  Mean while she endeavoured again to get out, calling aloud upon Delvileto rescue her, but so wholly bereft of sense and recollection, she couldgive no account who she was, whence she came, or whither she wished togo.

  They then carried her up stairs, and attempted to make her lie downupon a bed; but supposing she refused because it was not of straw, theydesisted; and, taking away the candle, locked the door, and all went torest.

  In this miserable condition, alone and raving, she was left to passthe night! in the early part of it, she called upon Delvile withoutintermission, beseeching him to come to her defence in one moment, anddeploring his death the next; but afterwards, her strength being whollyexhausted by these various exertions and fatigues, she threw herselfupon the floor, and lay for some minutes quite still. Her head thenbegan to grow cooler, as the fever into which terror and immoderateexercise had thrown her abated, and her memory recovered its functions.

  This was, however, only a circumstance of horror to her: she foundherself shut up in a place of confinement, without light, withoutknowledge where she was, and not a human being near her!

  Yet the same returning reason which enabled her to take this view ofher own situation, brought also to her mind that in which she had leftDelvile;--under all the perturbation of new-kindled jealousy, justcalling upon Belfield,--Belfield, tenacious of his honour even more thanhimself,--to satisfy doubts of which the very mention would be receivedas a challenge!

  "Oh yet, oh yet," cried she, "let me fly and overtake them!--I may findthem before morning, and to-night it must surely have been too late forthis work of death!"

  She then arose to feel for the door, and succeeded; but it was locked,and no effort she could make enabled her to open it.

  Her agony was unspeakable; she called out with violence upon the peopleof the house, conjured them to set her at liberty, offered any rewardfor their assistance, and threatened them with a prosecution ifdetained.

  Nobody, however, came near her: some slept on notwithstanding all thedisturbance she could make, and others; though awakened by her cries,concluded them the ravings of a mad woman, and listened not to what shesaid.

  Her head was by no means in a condition to bear this violence ofdistress;
every pulse was throbbing, every vein seemed bursting, herreason, so lately returned, could not bear the repetition of such ashock, and from supplicating for help with all the energy of feelingand understanding, she soon continued the cry from mere vehemence ofdistraction.

  Thus dreadfully passed the night; and in the morning, when the woman ofthe house came to see after her, she found her raving with such frenzy,and desperation, that her conscience was perfectly at ease in thetreatment she had given her, being now firmly satisfied she required thestrictest confinement.

  She still, however, tried to get away; talked of Delvile withoutcessation, said she should be too late to serve him, told the woman shedesired but to prevent murder, and repeatedly called out, "Oh beloved ofmy heart! wait but a moment, and I will snatch thee from destruction!"

  Mrs Wyers, this woman, now sought no longer to draw from her whence shecame, or who she was, but heard her frantic exclamations without anyemotion, contentedly concluding that her madness was incurable: andthough she was in a high fever, refused all sustenance, and had everysymptom of an alarming and dangerous malady, she was fully persuadedthat her case was that of decided insanity, and had not any notion oftemporary or accidental alienation of reason.

  All she could think of by way of indulgence to her, was to bring hera quantity of straw, having heard that mad people were fond of it; andputting it in a heap in one corner of the room, she expected to see hereagerly fly at it.

  Cecilia, however, distracted as she was, was eager for nothing but toescape, which was constantly her aim, alike when violent or when quiet.Mrs Wyers, finding this, kept her closely confined, and the door alwayslocked, whether absent or present.