CHAPTER XXII.
Say that my beauty was but small, Among court ladies all despised, Why didst thou rend it from that hall Where, scornful Earl, 'twas dearly prized?
No more thou com'st with wonted speed, Thy once beloved bride to see; But be she alive, or be she dead, I fear, stern Earl, 's the same to thee. CUMNOR HALL, by WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE.
The ladies of fashion of the present, or of any other period, must haveallowed that the young and lovely Countess of Leicester had, besides heryouth and beauty, two qualities which entitled her to a place amongstwomen of rank and distinction. She displayed, as we have seen in herinterview with the pedlar, a liberal promptitude to make unnecessarypurchases, solely for the pleasure of acquiring useless and showytrifles which ceased to please as soon as they were possessed; and shewas, besides, apt to spend a considerable space of time every day inadorning her person, although the varied splendour of her attire couldonly attract the half satirical praise of the precise Janet, or anapproving glance from the bright eyes which witnessed their own beams oftriumph reflected from the mirror.
The Countess Amy had, indeed, to plead for indulgence in those frivoloustastes, that the education of the times had done little or nothing for amind naturally gay and averse to study. If she had not loved tocollect finery and to wear it, she might have woven tapestry or sewedembroidery, till her labours spread in gay profusion all over the wallsand seats at Lidcote Hall; or she might have varied Minerva's labourswith the task of preparing a mighty pudding against the time that SirHugh Robsart returned from the greenwood. But Amy had no natural geniuseither for the loom, the needle, or the receipt-book. Her mother haddied in infancy; her father contradicted her in nothing; and Tressilian,the only one that approached her who was able or desirous to attendto the cultivation of her mind, had much hurt his interest with her byassuming too eagerly the task of a preceptor, so that he was regarded bythe lively, indulged, and idle girl with some fear and much respect, butwith little or nothing of that softer emotion which it had been his hopeand his ambition to inspire. And thus her heart lay readily open, andher fancy became easily captivated by the noble exterior and gracefuldeportment and complacent flattery of Leicester, even before he wasknown to her as the dazzling minion of wealth and power.
The frequent visits of Leicester at Cumnor, during the earlier part oftheir union, had reconciled the Countess to the solitude and privacyto which she was condemned; but when these visits became rarer and morerare, and when the void was filled up with letters of excuse, not alwaysvery warmly expressed, and generally extremely brief, discontent andsuspicion began to haunt those splendid apartments which love had fittedup for beauty. Her answers to Leicester conveyed these feelings toobluntly, and pressed more naturally than prudently that she mightbe relieved from this obscure and secluded residence, by the Earl'sacknowledgment of their marriage; and in arranging her arguments withall the skill she was mistress of, she trusted chiefly to the warmth ofthe entreaties with which she urged them. Sometimes she even venturedto mingle reproaches, of which Leicester conceived he had good reason tocomplain.
"I have made her Countess," he said to Varney; "surely she might waittill it consisted with my pleasure that she should put on the coronet?"
The Countess Amy viewed the subject in directly an opposite light.
"What signifies," she said, "that I have rank and honour in reality, ifI am to live an obscure prisoner, without either society or observance,and suffering in my character, as one of dubious or disgracedreputation? I care not for all those strings of pearl, which you fret meby warping into my tresses, Janet. I tell you that at Lidcote Hall, ifI put but a fresh rosebud among my hair, my good father would call meto him, that he might see it more closely; and the kind old curate wouldsmile, and Master Mumblazen would say something about roses gules. Andnow I sit here, decked out like an image with gold and gems, and no oneto see my finery but you, Janet. There was the poor Tressilian, too--butit avails not speaking of him."
"It doth not indeed, madam," said her prudent attendant; "and verilyyou make me sometimes wish you would not speak of him so often, or sorashly."
"It signifies nothing to warn me, Janet," said the impatient andincorrigible Countess; "I was born free, though I am now mewed up likesome fine foreign slave, rather than the wife of an English noble.I bore it all with pleasure while I was sure he loved me; but now mytongue and heart shall be free, let them fetter these limbs as theywill. I tell thee, Janet, I love my husband--I will love him tillmy latest breath--I cannot cease to love him, even if I would, or ifhe--which, God knows, may chance--should cease to love me. But Iwill say, and loudly, I would have been happier than I now am tohave remained in Lidcote Hall, even although I must have married poorTressilian, with his melancholy look and his head full of learning,which I cared not for. He said, if I would read his favourite volumes,there would come a time that I should be glad of having done so. I thinkit is come now."
"I bought you some books, madam," said Janet, "from a lame fellow whosold them in the Market-place--and who stared something boldly, at me, Ipromise you."
"Let me see them, Janet," said the Countess; "but let them not be ofyour own precise cast,--How is this, most righteous damsel?--'A PAIR OFSNUFFERS FOR THE GOLDEN CANDLESTICK'--'HANDFULL OF MYRRH AND HYSSOP TOPUT A SICK SOUL TO PURGATION'--'A DRAUGHT OF WATER FROM THE VALLEY OFBACA'--'FOXES AND FIREBRANDS'--what gear call you this, maiden?"
"Nay, madam," said Janet, "it was but fitting and seemly to put grace inyour ladyship's way; but an you will none of it, there are play-books,and poet-books, I trow."
The Countess proceeded carelessly in her examination, turning over suchrare volumes as would now make the fortune of twenty retail booksellers.Here was a "BOKE OF COOKERY, IMPRINTED BY RICHARD LANT," and "SKELTON'SBOOKS"--"THE PASSTIME OF THE PEOPLE"--"THE CASTLE OF KNOWLEDGE," etc.But neither to this lore did the Countess's heart incline, and joyfullydid she start up from the listless task of turning over the leaves ofthe pamphlets, and hastily did she scatter them through the floor, whenthe hasty clatter of horses' feet, heard in the courtyard, called her tothe window, exclaiming, "It is Leicester!--it is my noble Earl!--itis my Dudley!--every stroke of his horse's hoof sounds like a note oflordly music!"
There was a brief bustle in the mansion, and Foster, with his downwardlook and sullen manner, entered the apartment to say, "That MasterRichard Varney was arrived from my lord, having ridden all night, andcraved to speak with her ladyship instantly."
"Varney?" said the disappointed Countess; "and to speak with me?--pshaw!But he comes with news from Leicester, so admit him instantly."
Varney entered her dressing apartment, where she sat arrayed in hernative loveliness, adorned with all that Janet's art and a rich andtasteful undress could bestow. But the most beautiful part of her attirewas her profuse and luxuriant light-brown locks, which floated in suchrich abundance around a neck that resembled a swan's, and over a bosomheaving with anxious expectation, which communicated a hurried tinge ofred to her whole countenance.
Varney entered the room in the dress in which he had waited on hismaster that morning to court, the splendour of which made a strangecontrast with the disorder arising from hasty riding during a dark nightand foul ways. His brow bore an anxious and hurried expression, as onewho has that to say of which he doubts the reception, and who hathyet posted on from the necessity of communicating his tidings. TheCountess's anxious eye at once caught the alarm, as she exclaimed, "Youbring news from my lord, Master Varney--Gracious Heaven! is he ill?"
"No, madam, thank Heaven!" said Varney. "Compose yourself, and permit meto take breath ere I communicate my tidings."
"No breath, sir," replied the lady impatiently; "I know your theatricalarts. Since your breath hath sufficed to bring you hither, it maysuffice to tell your tale--at least briefly, and in the gross."
"Madam," answered Varney, "we are not alone, and my lord's message wasfor your ear only."
"Leave us, Jane
t, and Master Foster," said the lady; "but remain in thenext apartment, and within call."
Foster and his daughter retired, agreeably to the Lady Leicester'scommands, into the next apartment, which was the withdrawing-room. Thedoor which led from the sleeping-chamber was then carefully shut andbolted, and the father and daughter remained both in a posture ofanxious attention, the first with a stern, suspicious, anxious cast ofcountenance, and Janet with folded hands, and looks which seemed dividedbetwixt her desire to know the fortunes of her mistress, and her prayersto Heaven for her safety. Anthony Foster seemed himself to have someidea of what was passing through his daughter's mind, for he crossedthe apartment and took her anxiously by the hand, saying, "That isright--pray, Janet, pray; we have all need of prayers, and some of usmore than others. Pray, Janet--I would pray myself, but I must listen towhat goes on within--evil has been brewing, love--evil has been brewing.God forgive our sins, but Varney's sudden and strange arrival bodes usno good."
Janet had never before heard her father excite or even permit herattention to anything which passed in their mysterious family; and nowthat he did so, his voice sounded in her ear--she knew not why--likethat of a screech-owl denouncing some deed of terror and of woe. Sheturned her eyes fearfully towards the door, almost as if she expectedsome sounds of horror to be heard, or some sight of fear to displayitself.
All, however, was as still as death, and the voices of those who spokein the inner chamber were, if they spoke at all, carefully subdued to atone which could not be heard in the next. At once, however, they wereheard to speak fast, thick, and hastily; and presently after the voiceof the Countess was heard exclaiming, at the highest pitch to whichindignation could raise it, "Undo the door, sir, I command you!--undothe door!--I will have no other reply!" she continued, drowning with hervehement accents the low and muttered sounds which Varney was heardto utter betwixt whiles. "What ho! without there!" she persisted,accompanying her words with shrieks, "Janet, alarm the house!--Foster,break open the door--I am detained here by a traitor! Use axe and lever,Master Foster--I will be your warrant!"
"It shall not need, madam," Varney was at length distinctly heard tosay. "If you please to expose my lord's important concerns and your ownto the general ear, I will not be your hindrance."
The door was unlocked and thrown open, and Janet and her father rushedin, anxious to learn the cause of these reiterated exclamations.
When they entered the apartment Varney stood by the door grinding histeeth, with an expression in which rage, and shame, and fear had eachtheir share. The Countess stood in the midst of her apartment like ajuvenile Pythoness under the influence of the prophetic fury. The veinsin her beautiful forehead started into swoln blue lines through thehurried impulse of her articulation--her cheek and neck glowed likescarlet--her eyes were like those of an imprisoned eagle, flashing redlightning on the foes which it cannot reach with its talons. Were itpossible for one of the Graces to have been animated by a Fury, thecountenance could not have united such beauty with so much hatred,scorn, defiance, and resentment. The gesture and attitude correspondedwith the voice and looks, and altogether presented a spectacle which wasat once beautiful and fearful; so much of the sublime had the energyof passion united with the Countess Amy's natural loveliness. Janet,as soon as the door was open, ran to her mistress; and more slowly, yetwith more haste than he was wont, Anthony Foster went to Richard Varney.
"In the Truth's name, what ails your ladyship?" said the former.
"What, in the name of Satan, have you done to her?" said Foster to hisfriend.
"Who, I?--nothing," answered Varney, but with sunken head and sullenvoice; "nothing but communicated to her her lord's commands, which, ifthe lady list not to obey, she knows better how to answer it than I maypretend to do."
"Now, by Heaven, Janet!" said the Countess, "the false traitor liesin his throat! He must needs lie, for he speaks to the dishonour of mynoble lord; he must needs lie doubly, for he speaks to gain ends of hisown, equally execrable and unattainable."
"You have misapprehended me, lady," said Varney, with a sulky speciesof submission and apology; "let this matter rest till your passion beabated, and I will explain all."
"Thou shalt never have an opportunity to do so," said theCountess.--"Look at him, Janet. He is fairly dressed, hath the outsideof a gentleman, and hither he came to persuade me it was my lord'spleasure--nay, more, my wedded lord's commands--that I should go withhim to Kenilworth, and before the Queen and nobles, and in presence ofmy own wedded lord, that I should acknowledge him--HIM there--that verycloak-brushing, shoe-cleaning fellow--HIM there, my lord's lackey,for my liege lord and husband; furnishing against myself, Great God!whenever I was to vindicate my right and my rank, such weapons as wouldhew my just claim from the root, and destroy my character to be regardedas an honourable matron of the English nobility!"
"You hear her, Foster, and you, young maiden, hear this lady," answeredVarney, taking advantage of the pause which the Countess had made in hercharge, more for lack of breath than for lack of matter--"you hear thather heat only objects to me the course which our good lord, for thepurpose to keep certain matters secret, suggests in the very letterwhich she holds in her hands."
Foster here attempted to interfere with a face of authority, which hethought became the charge entrusted to him, "Nay, lady, I must needs sayyou are over-hasty in this. Such deceit is not utterly to be condemnedwhen practised for a righteous end; and thus even the patriarch Abrahamfeigned Sarah to be his sister when they went down to Egypt."
"Ay, sir," answered the Countess; "but God rebuked that deceit even inthe father of His chosen people, by the mouth of the heathen Pharaoh.Out upon you, that will read Scripture only to copy those things whichare held out to us as warnings, not as examples!"
"But Sarah disputed not the will of her husband, an it be yourpleasure," said Foster, in reply, "but did as Abraham commanded, callingherself his sister, that it might be well with her husband for her sake,and that his soul might live because of her beauty."
"Now, so Heaven pardon me my useless anger," answered the Countess,"thou art as daring a hypocrite as yonder fellow is an impudentdeceiver! Never will I believe that the noble Dudley gave countenanceto so dastardly, so dishonourable a plan. Thus I tread on his infamy, ifindeed it be, and thus destroy its remembrance for ever!"
So saying, she tore in pieces Leicester's letter, and stamped, in theextremity of impatience, as if she would have annihilated the minutefragments into which she had rent it.
"Bear witness," said Varney, collecting himself, "she hath torn mylord's letter, in order to burden me with the scheme of his devising;and although it promises nought but danger and trouble to me, she wouldlay it to my charge, as if I had any purpose of mine own in it."
"Thou liest, thou treacherous slave!" said the Countess in spite ofJanet's attempts to keep her silent, in the sad foresight that hervehemence might only furnish arms against herself--"thou liest," shecontinued.--"Let me go, Janet--were it the last word I have to speak,he lies. He had his own foul ends to seek; and broader he would havedisplayed them had my passion permitted me to preserve the silence whichat first encouraged him to unfold his vile projects."
"Madam," said Varney, overwhelmed in spite of his effrontery, "I entreatyou to believe yourself mistaken."
"As soon will I believe light darkness," said the enraged Countess."Have I drunk of oblivion? Do I not remember former passages, which,known to Leicester, had given thee the preferment of a gallows, insteadof the honour of his intimacy. I would I were a man but for fiveminutes! It were space enough to make a craven like thee confess hisvillainy. But go--begone! Tell thy master that when I take the foulcourse to which such scandalous deceits as thou hast recommended onhis behalf must necessarily lead me, I will give him a rival somethingworthy of the name. He shall not be supplanted by an ignominious lackey,whose best fortune is to catch a gift of his master's last suitof clothes ere it is threadbare, and who is only fit to seduce asuburb-wench by the
bravery of new roses in his master's old pantoufles.Go, begone, sir! I scorn thee so much that I am ashamed to have beenangry with thee."
Varney left the room with a mute expression of rage, and was followed byFoster, whose apprehension, naturally slow, was overpowered by the eagerand abundant discharge of indignation which, for the first time, he hadheard burst from the lips of a being who had seemed, till that moment,too languid and too gentle to nurse an angry thought or utter anintemperate expression. Foster, therefore, pursued Varney from place toplace, persecuting him with interrogatories, to which the other repliednot, until they were in the opposite side of the quadrangle, and in theold library, with which the reader has already been made acquainted.Here he turned round on his persevering follower, and thus addressedhim, in a tone tolerably equal, that brief walk having been sufficientto give one so habituated to command his temper time to rally andrecover his presence of mind.
"Tony," he said, with his usual sneering laugh, "it avails not to denyit. The Woman and the Devil, who, as thine oracle Holdforth willconfirm to thee, cheated man at the beginning, have this day proved morepowerful than my discretion. Yon termagant looked so tempting, and hadthe art to preserve her countenance so naturally, while I communicatedmy lord's message, that, by my faith, I thought I might say some littlething for myself. She thinks she hath my head under her girdle now, butshe is deceived. Where is Doctor Alasco?"
"In his laboratory," answered Foster. "It is the hour he is spoken notwithal. We must wait till noon is past, or spoil his important--whatsaid I? important!--I would say interrupt his divine studies."
"Ay, he studies the devil's divinity," said Varney; "but when I wanthim, one hour must suffice as well as another. Lead the way to hispandemonium."
So spoke Varney, and with hasty and perturbed steps followed Foster,who conducted him through private passages, many of which werewell-nigh ruinous, to the opposite side of the quadrangle, where, in asubterranean apartment, now occupied by the chemist Alasco, one of theAbbots of Abingdon, who had a turn for the occult sciences, had, muchto the scandal of his convent, established a laboratory, in which,like other fools of the period, he spent much precious time, and moneybesides, in the pursuit of the grand arcanum.
Anthony Foster paused before the door, which was scrupulously securedwithin, and again showed a marked hesitation to disturb the sage inhis operations. But Varney, less scrupulous, roused him by knockingand voice, until at length, slowly and reluctantly, the inmate of theapartment undid the door. The chemist appeared, with his eyes blearedwith the heat and vapours of the stove or alembic over which he broodedand the interior of his cell displayed the confused assemblage ofheterogeneous substances and extraordinary implements belonging to hisprofession. The old man was muttering, with spiteful impatience, "Am Ifor ever to be recalled to the affairs of earth from those of heaven?"
"To the affairs of hell," answered Varney, "for that is thy properelement.--Foster, we need thee at our conference."
Foster slowly entered the room. Varney, following, barred the door, andthey betook themselves to secret council.
In the meanwhile, the Countess traversed the apartment, with shame andanger contending on her lovely cheek.
"The villain," she said--"the cold-blooded, calculating slave!--But Iunmasked him, Janet--I made the snake uncoil all his folds before me,and crawl abroad in his naked deformity; I suspended my resentment, atthe danger of suffocating under the effort, until he had let me see thevery bottom of a heart more foul than hell's darkest corner.--And thou,Leicester, is it possible thou couldst bid me for a moment deny mywedded right in thee, or thyself yield it to another?--But it isimpossible--the villain has lied in all.--Janet, I will not remain herelonger--I fear him--I fear thy father. I grieve to say it, Janet--butI fear thy father, and, worst of all, this odious Varney, I will escapefrom Cumnor."
"Alas! madam, whither would you fly, or by what means will you escapefrom these walls?"
"I know not, Janet," said the unfortunate young lady, looking upwards!and clasping her hands together, "I know not where I shall fly, or bywhat means; but I am certain the God I have served will not abandon mein this dreadful crisis, for I am in the hands of wicked men."
"Do not think so, dear lady," said Janet; "my father is stern and strictin his temper, and severely true to his trust--but yet--"
At this moment Anthony Foster entered the apartment, bearing in hishand a glass cup and a small flask. His manner was singular; for, whileapproaching the Countess with the respect due to her rank, he had tillthis time suffered to become visible, or had been unable to suppress,the obdurate sulkiness of his natural disposition, which, as is usualwith those of his unhappy temper, was chiefly exerted towards those overwhom circumstances gave him control. But at present he showed nothingof that sullen consciousness of authority which he was wont to concealunder a clumsy affectation of civility and deference, as a ruffian hideshis pistols and bludgeon under his ill-fashioned gaberdine. And yet itseemed as if his smile was more in fear than courtesy, and as if, whilehe pressed the Countess to taste of the choice cordial, which shouldrefresh her spirits after her late alarm, he was conscious of meditatingsome further injury. His hand trembled also, his voice faltered, and hiswhole outward behaviour exhibited so much that was suspicious, that hisdaughter Janet, after she had stood looking at him in astonishment forsome seconds, seemed at once to collect herself to execute somehardy resolution, raised her head, assumed an attitude and gait ofdetermination and authority, and walking slowly betwixt her father andher mistress, took the salver from the hand of the former, and said ina low but marked and decided tone, "Father, I will fill for my noblemistress, when such is her pleasure."
"Thou, my child?" said Foster, eagerly and apprehensively; "no, mychild--it is not THOU shalt render the lady this service."
"And why, I pray you," said Janet, "if it be fitting that the noble ladyshould partake of the cup at all?"
"Why--why?" said the seneschal, hesitating, and then bursting intopassion as the readiest mode of supplying the lack of all otherreason--"why, because it is my pleasure, minion, that you should not!Get you gone to the evening lecture."
"Now, as I hope to hear lecture again," replied Janet, "I will not gothither this night, unless I am better assured of my mistress's safety.Give me that flask, father"--and she took it from his reluctant hand,while he resigned it as if conscience-struck. "And now," she said,"father, that which shall benefit my mistress, cannot do ME prejudice.Father, I drink to you."
Foster, without speaking a word, rushed on his daughter and wrested theflask from her hand; then, as if embarrassed by what he had done, andtotally unable to resolve what he should do next, he stood with it inhis hand, one foot advanced and the other drawn back, glaring on hisdaughter with a countenance in which rage, fear, and convicted villainyformed a hideous combination.
"This is strange, my father," said Janet, keeping her eye fixed on his,in the manner in which those who have the charge of lunatics are said tooverawe their unhappy patients; "will you neither let me serve my lady,nor drink to her myself?"
The courage of the Countess sustained her through this dreadful scene,of which the import was not the less obvious that it was not even hintedat. She preserved even the rash carelessness of her temper, and thoughher cheek had grown pale at the first alarm, her eye was calm and almostscornful. "Will YOU taste this rare cordial, Master Foster? Perhaps youwill not yourself refuse to pledge us, though you permit not Janet to doso. Drink, sir, I pray you."
"I will not," answered Foster.
"And for whom, then, is the precious beverage reserved, sir?" said theCountess.
"For the devil, who brewed it!" answered Foster; and, turning on hisheel, he left the chamber.
Janet looked at her mistress with a countenance expressive in thehighest degree of shame, dismay, and sorrow.
"Do not weep for me, Janet," said the Countess kindly.
"No, madam," replied her attendant, in a voice broken by sobs, "it isnot for you I w
eep; it is for myself--it is for that unhappy man. Thosewho are dishonoured before man--those who are condemned by God--havecause to mourn; not those who are innocent! Farewell, madam!" she saidhastily assuming the mantle in which she was wont to go abroad.
"Do you leave me, Janet?" said her mistress--"desert me in such an evilstrait?"
"Desert you, madam!" exclaimed Janet; and running back to her mistress,she imprinted a thousand kisses on her hand--"desert you I--may the Hopeof my trust desert me when I do so! No, madam; well you said the God youserve will open you a path for deliverance. There is a way of escape. Ihave prayed night and day for light, that I might see how to act betwixtmy duty to yonder unhappy man and that which I owe to you. Sternly andfearfully that light has now dawned, and I must not shut the door whichGod opens. Ask me no more. I will return in brief space."
So speaking, she wrapped herself in her mantle, and saying to the oldwoman whom she passed in the outer room that she was going to eveningprayer, she left the house.
Meanwhile her father had reached once more the laboratory, wherehe found the accomplices of his intended guilt. "Has the sweet birdsipped?" said Varney, with half a smile; while the astrologer put thesame question with his eyes, but spoke not a word.
"She has not, nor she shall not from my hands," replied Foster; "wouldyou have me do murder in my daughter's presence?"
"Wert thou not told, thou sullen and yet faint-hearted slave," answeredVarney, with bitterness, "that no MURDER as thou callest it, with thatstaring look and stammering tone, is designed in the matter? Wert thounot told that a brief illness, such as woman puts on in very wantonness,that she may wear her night-gear at noon, and lie on a settle whenshe should mind her domestic business, is all here aimed at? Here is alearned man will swear it to thee by the key of the Castle of Wisdom."
"I swear it," said Alasco, "that the elixir thou hast there in the flaskwill not prejudice life! I swear it by that immortal and indestructiblequintessence of gold, which pervades every substance in nature, thoughits secret existence can be traced by him only to whom Trismegistusrenders the key of the Cabala."
"An oath of force," said Varney. "Foster, thou wert worse than a paganto disbelieve it. Believe me, moreover, who swear by nothing but by myown word, that if you be not conformable, there is no hope, no, nota glimpse of hope, that this thy leasehold may be transmuted into acopyhold. Thus, Alasco will leave your pewter artillery untransmigrated,and I, honest Anthony, will still have thee for my tenant."
"I know not, gentlemen," said Foster, "where your designs tend to; butin one thing I am bound up,--that, fall back fall edge, I will have onein this place that may pray for me, and that one shall be my daughter.I have lived ill, and the world has been too weighty with me; but she isas innocent as ever she was when on her mother's lap, and she, at least,shall have her portion in that happy City, whose walls are of pure gold,and the foundations garnished with all manner of precious stones."
"Ay, Tony," said Varney, "that were a paradise to thy heart'scontent.--Debate the matter with him, Doctor Alasco; I will be with youanon."
So speaking, Varney arose, and taking the flask from the table, he leftthe room.
"I tell thee, my son," said Alasco to Foster, as soon as Varney hadleft them, "that whatever this bold and profligate railer may say of themighty science, in which, by Heaven's blessing, I have advanced sofar that I would not call the wisest of living artists my better or myteacher--I say, howsoever yonder reprobate may scoff at things too holyto be apprehended by men merely of carnal and evil thoughts, yet believethat the city beheld by St. John, in that bright vision of the ChristianApocalypse, that new Jerusalem, of which all Christian men hope topartake, sets forth typically the discovery of the GRAND SECRET, wherebythe most precious and perfect of nature's works are elicited out ofher basest and most crude productions; just as the light and gaudybutterfly, the most beautiful child of the summer's breeze, breaks forthfrom the dungeon of a sordid chrysalis."
"Master Holdforth said nought of this exposition," said Fosterdoubtfully; "and moreover, Doctor Alasco, the Holy Writ says that thegold and precious stones of the Holy City are in no sort for those whowork abomination, or who frame lies."
"Well, my son," said the Doctor, "and what is your inference fromthence?"
"That those," said Foster, "who distil poisons, and administer them insecrecy, can have no portion in those unspeakable riches."
"You are to distinguish, my son," replied the alchemist, "betwixt thatwhich is necessarily evil in its progress and in its end also, and thatwhich, being evil, is, nevertheless, capable of working forth good. If,by the death of one person, the happy period shall be brought nearerto us, in which all that is good shall be attained, by wishing itspresence--all that is evil escaped, by desiring its absence--in whichsickness, and pain, and sorrow shall be the obedient servants of humanwisdom, and made to fly at the slightest signal of a sage--in which thatwhich is now richest and rarest shall be within the compass of every onewho shall be obedient to the voice of wisdom--when the art of healingshall be lost and absorbed in the one universal medicine when sagesshall become monarchs of the earth, and death itself retreat beforetheir frown,--if this blessed consummation of all things can be hastenedby the slight circumstance that a frail, earthly body, which mustneeds partake corruption, shall be consigned to the grave a short spaceearlier than in the course of nature, what is such a sacrifice to theadvancement of the holy Millennium?"
"Millennium is the reign of the Saints," said Foster, somewhatdoubtfully.
"Say it is the reign of the Sages, my son," answered Alasco; "or ratherthe reign of Wisdom itself."
"I touched on the question with Master Holdforth last exercising night,"said Foster; "but he says your doctrine is heterodox, and a damnable andfalse exposition."
"He is in the bonds of ignorance, my son," answered Alasco, "and as yetburning bricks in Egypt; or, at best, wandering in the dry desert ofSinai. Thou didst ill to speak to such a man of such matters. I will,however, give thee proof, and that shortly, which I will defy thatpeevish divine to confute, though he should strive with me as themagicians strove with Moses before King Pharaoh. I will do projectionin thy presence, my son,--in thy very presence--and thine eyes shallwitness the truth."
"Stick to that, learned sage," said Varney, who at this moment enteredthe apartment; "if he refuse the testimony of thy tongue, yet how shallhe deny that of his own eyes?"
"Varney!" said the adept--"Varney already returned! Hast thou--" hestopped short.
"Have I done mine errand, thou wouldst say?" replied Varney. "I have!And thou," he added, showing more symptoms of interest than he hadhitherto exhibited, "art thou sure thou hast poured forth neither morenor less than the just measure?"
"Ay," replied the alchemist, "as sure as men can be in these niceproportions, for there is diversity of constitutions."
"Nay, then," said Varney, "I fear nothing. I know thou wilt not go astep farther to the devil than thou art justly considered for--thou wertpaid to create illness, and wouldst esteem it thriftless prodigality todo murder at the same price. Come, let us each to our chamber we shallsee the event to-morrow."
"What didst thou do to make her swallow it?" said Foster, shuddering.
"Nothing," answered Varney, "but looked on her with that aspect whichgoverns madmen, women, and children. They told me in St. Luke's Hospitalthat I have the right look for overpowering a refractory patient. Thekeepers made me their compliments on't; so I know how to win my breadwhen my court-favour fails me."
"And art thou not afraid," said Foster, "lest the dose bedisproportioned?"
"If so," replied Varney, "she will but sleep the sounder, and the fearof that shall not break my rest. Good night, my masters."
Anthony Foster groaned heavily, and lifted up his hands and eyes. Thealchemist intimated his purpose to continue some experiment of highimport during the greater part of the night, and the others separated totheir places of repose.