CHAPTER XIII.
There was something in the look of Don Rafaele that madeHildebrand’s very heart quake again. Yet it was but momentary;for no sooner did the Spaniard, in the manner already set forth,meet his glance, than he withdrew his observation, and turnedabruptly away. Stepping back through the doorway, he drew thedoor, which he still held in his hand, close after him, and leftthe lovers to themselves.
Scarcely had he thus passed into the outer passage, however,when he heard Hildebrand’s step, which he seemed instantlyto recognise, approaching within. Thereupon, with anxiouseagerness, he looked round for an eligible opening for retreat,and, after a brief pause, passed hesitatingly up the adjoiningstairs, in the direction of his chamber.
He had taken but a few steps, when, as he had expected, thelibrary-door was hastily opened, and Hildebrand presented himselfin the passage. He caught sight of Don Rafaele on the instant,and, staying only to close the door in his rear, passed on afterhim. Stepping out quickly, a few paces brought him to the stairs;and there, though Don Rafaele had made no pause, he shortlyovertook him.
On thus effecting his purpose, he laid his hand gently on hisarm, and turned an anxious glance on his pale face.
“Thou ailest somewhat, my fair Rafaele?” he said. “Prithee whathath moved thee to this most grievous and disconsolate look?”
Don Rafaele, without saying a word, mournfully shook his head,and turned his eyes on the floor.
“The matter?” pursued Hildebrand, anxiously. “Come, now, an’ thoulovest me, tell me the matter.”
“’Tis melancholy!--nought but melancholy!” answered Don Rafaele,with perfect calmness. “The mood visits me oft, and, to speaksooth, hath been mine infirmity, every now and anon, from myearly boyhood. Give me leave awhile, and, if I be left to mineown self, I will be better anon.”
“God be with thee!” exclaimed Hildebrand. “Methinks, an’ thouwouldst bear with it, good fellowship were better for thee thansolitude. But be it as thou wilt.”
Don Rafaele, with whatever motive, still desired to be leftto himself, and Hildebrand pressed his suggestion no further.Dropping his hold of Don Rafaele’s arm, he turned back to thepassage, and suffered him to pursue his way to his chamber alone.
Don Rafaele did not linger on his route. Proceeding at a quickpace, he shortly gained his chamber; and with a hasty step, butagitated withal, passed to the interior, and closed and fastenedthe door behind him.
Whatever might be his ailment, it would seem that his energy,which hitherto had appeared even more than ordinary, was only tolast till he had secured himself against intrusion. Scarcely hadhe turned the key in the door, when a dimness came over his eyes,and a searching and nipping chill, like a rush of cold blood,swept over his brain. As he threw himself into a contiguouschair, he was overtaken by a swoon.
There he sat, helpless and insensible, with no ministering handto attend on him, for a considerable period. His beauty, hisvirtue, his tenderness of heart, and his many noble and estimablequalities, which had but to be revealed to be applauded, hadraised for him no barrier against the very extreme of lonelinessand necessity.
His senses returned, at last. Nevertheless, the mental anguishthat had produced his swoon (if its cause really were mental)was clearly still alert; for, when he opened his eyes, a violentshudder shook his whole frame. His cheeks, too, were pale andthought-sick; his lips, colourless; and his large eyes, whenthey were not turned on the floor (which was most frequently thecase), looked wild and desperate.
The sorrow that he laboured under must have been most acute,yet, amidst all the traits of dejection that have been noticed,he wore a look of dogged and stern resolution, which, in one soyouthful and prepossessing, it was harrowing to behold. Moreover,he occasionally knitted his arched brows, and once, as theparoxysm worked him deeper, he bit his lips till the blood came.
It was dusk before he was able any way to subdue his bitterpassion. Even then, though the amelioration was decided, hemanifested some traces of discomposure; and his feelings appearedto be under a forced constraint, rather than actual and certaincontrol. His energies, however, were perfectly restored, and, onrising from his chair, he turned to the chamber-door with a firmstep, and so passed out.
He did not pause at the door of the library; but pursued his way,with the same decided step, to the family sitting-room. There, ashe had expected, he found Hildebrand and Evaline, together withSir Edgar, each of whom inquired after his health with unfeignedsolicitude. As the evening progressed, they strove their utmostto arouse and inspirit him; and Evaline, in particular, thoughsomewhat confused on his entrance, exerted all her powers toinspire him with hilarity. But though he sought to appearcheerful, his mind was evidently too seriously unhinged, if onemay use such a term, to be so easily and promptly soothed; andhis present affectation of complacency was even more distressingthan his former melancholy. Moreover, he was frequently lost inthought, and there was an apparent excitement in all he did andsaid, and even in his very aspect, that was quite incompatiblewith cheerfulness, and subversive of equanimity.
Thus he remained till the hour arrived for retiring to rest.Then, having procured a light from one of the servants, he badehis friends a hasty good-night, and passed back to his chamber.
His discomposure was greatly augmented when he reached thatapartment. Having set the light down on his toilet-table, heproceeded to pace the floor, from one end of the chamber to theother, with a hurried step, and with his hands clasped tightlyover his brow. His thoughts seemed to rise so rapidly, and insuch disorderly array, that he could not bend himself to considerthem, but became lost in perplexity and distraction. After atime--but not before a good hour had elapsed--he came to a pause,and, if one might form a conclusion from his altered manner,made an effort to collect himself. As he did so, he suddenlylooked up; and a contiguous toilet-glass, which was standingright before him, and which the light on the table served toilluminate, presented to his eye the melancholy reflection of hisaspect.
A spasm passed over his face as he viewed this spectacle; andcertainly, compared with his usual appearance, or even that whichhe wore but recently, it was touching in the extreme. Therewas not a line of colour in any one feature, and the unnaturallustre of his large full eyes, staring with horror, imparted tothe pallor and despairing look of his complexion a terrible andappalling distinctness.
He cast but one glance at the glass, when he turned away; andagain, though with a slower step, and a look which, if no lesswild, was not so bewildered as his recent one, proceeded to pacethe chamber.
After he had thus perambulated the apartment for some time,he stepped once more, at a slow and deliberate pace, towardsthe toilet-table, and drew from a sheath at his side a smallstiletto. On drawing it fully forth, he held its point to oneof his fingers, as though he would ascertain, by this searchingand personal experiment, whether it were any way defective. Hisinspection appeared to satisfy him of its perfectness; and, witha trembling hand, he replaced it in its sheath.
A quiver suffused his lips as he was turning away from the table,and he paused once more. But his hesitation, if such it were,was but momentary, and, almost as he came to a stand, he caughtup the light from the table, and turned resolutely towards thechamber-door.
Still bearing the light, he cautiously opened the door, andlooked out. No one was in sight; and from the stillness whichprevailed, and which was unbroken by the least sound, he rightlyconjectured that all the inmates of the mansion were now lockedin sleep. On arriving at this conclusion, he stepped out into thepassage, and proceeded, with a quick but noiseless tread, downa contiguous flight of stairs, where a broad landing opened toanother flight. He halted on the landing, and, holding up thelight, turned his eye on a neighbouring door, which led from thelanding to an inner chamber. The chamber was Evaline’s.
The cavalier gazed on the door for a full minute, when, with atremulous hand, he set down the light, and softly stepped closeup to the door. Raising his hand, he cautiously lifted the latch;and the doo
r, which he had expected to find locked, yielded tohis pressure, and admitted him to the chamber.
Right opposite to the door was a casement, through which,though it was partly veiled by a curtain, the moon could bedistinguished, and thus sufficient light prevailed to revealevery object in the room. On discerning this, Don Rafaele, thoughhe had left his light on the landing, turned quickly round, and,previous to taking any further step, softly closed the door. Hewas now in comparative darkness, but the objects of the roomwere still visible, and, when he turned round from the door,he glanced over them all separately, and then stepped lightlytowards the bed.
The deep breathing of its occupant assured him that she wasasleep before he drew back the drapery. As he did draw thedrapery back, the moonlight--for it was on the same side of thechamber with the casement--spread itself out before him, andrevealed to him the sleeper’s face.
He cast but one hasty look at her scarcely distinguishablefeatures. Then, with breathless eagerness, he silently drew downthe bedclothes, and raised his dagger over her bosom.
END OF VOL. II.
London: HENRY RICHARDS, Brydges-street, Covent-garden.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors corrected.
Period spelling retained, but apparent printing errors corrected.
Changed “crid” to “cried” on page 62. (cried Sir Walter Raleigh)
Changed “returnd” to “returned” on page 78. (returned Bernard)
Added missing “h” to “hope” on page 96. (with confidence and hope)
Changed “progess” changed to “progress” on page 102. (During hisprogress to the palace)
Changed “scarely” to “scarcely” on page on 113. (They hadscarcely begun to make good way)
Changed “happnd” to “happened” on page 116. (In the name of God,what hath happened?)
Changed “succesive” to “successive” on page 123. (For threesuccessive days)
Added missing “n” to “begun” on page 277. (had begun to fear theelost)
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