CHAPTER XV.
For more than a week Frank Beverly lay in the most precarious state, andmore than once during that period his friends were summoned to hisbed-side, expecting every moment to be his last. Bacon, torn and rackedwith suspense, moved about the house of his late patron like onedistracted. He had already made his peace with Virginia, by explainingto her the unequivocal and unconditional demand for satisfaction madeupon him by Beverly, as well as the unjustifiable taunt upon the field,by which he had been driven from his defensive attitude. But even hersociety failed in its usual attractions, while Beverly remained indanger. Doctor Roland, with all his technical formality, was asindefatigable in his attentions as he was oracular and mysterious in hisannouncements from hour to hour, and day to day, concerning the state ofhis patient. These, reported to his master from the lips of BrienO'Reily, would form no unamusing subject for the reader, were not ourattention called to the more important personages and graver incidentsof our narrative.
As Bacon had surmised, Sir William Berkley was not long in understandingthe real cause of the quarrel; he had himself heard partial reports ofthe affront and its cause on the night of its occurrence. As Bacon hadalso expected, he seemed to await the fate of his young kinsman, beforehe took any farther steps towards promoting the alliance between him andVirginia. This however did not prevent him from giving way to the mostungovernable rage at Frank's condescension in meeting an adventurer,"the son of no one knew whom."
At length the invalid was unequivocally pronounced to be out of danger,by Dr. Roland himself. The Governor had no sooner received theinformation, than he despatched a footman with his most respectfulcompliments to Mrs. Fairfax, and requested the pleasure of an hour'sconversation with her, on the most important business; in answer towhich, a message was returned to the Governor, that she would be pleasedto see him, at any moment which might suit his convenience. That timesoon arrived, and the formal old gentleman, after many apologies for theuntimely intrusion upon the privacy of her sorrows, and condolence fortheir cause, thus introduced the subject to which he solicited herattention.
"It was perhaps not known to you, Madam, that your late lamented husbandand myself had long since formed a prospective arrangement, by which wehoped to dispose of our fortunes in such a manner as to add honour anddignity to our families, at the same time that we should preserve themunited, and confer happiness upon our nearest relatives and presumptiveheirs. His will, as I understand, has not yet been authenticated, butdoubtless when it is so you will find that he has provided for thefulfilment of this design."
"I do not fully comprehend your Excellency."
"I mean, madam, that we contemplated uniting in marriage, your fairdaughter and my young kinsman, Beverly; by this means I will be enabledto entail my fortune on their male descendants, which will meet all mydesires concerning my niece, at the same time that it will be doing noinjustice to my young relative."
"The plan seems ingeniously contrived, Sir William, to prevent futureheart-burnings concerning the disposal of your estate; but were theyoung people to know nothing of the arrangement?"
"The knowledge of it was kept from them, at the suggestion of your latelamented husband, in order that they might imbibe no prejudices againstthe scheme as they grew up, but rather be thrown into each other's way,as the time for its consummation approached, and thus perhaps discoverits propriety themselves. This has in part proved true, for on the veryday of the unfortunate accident which deprived your house of itsinestimable head, I had the honour to lay Frank's proposals before him."
"Sir William--I do not know my daughter's sentiments on thesubject,--the fulfilment of the scheme will depend entirely on herfeelings."
"With due deference, madam, would it not be more politic to treat thematter as already, and long since settled, between her father andmyself, and sacredly sealed by his death?"
"I must be plain and candid with your Excellency--I have no desire touse policy in the affair; if my daughter gives her free and heartyconsent, you have mine; but if the match is repugnant to her feelings wewill drop the subject, with many thanks to your Excellency for your kindpurposes, and to Mr. Beverly for the intended honour."
Virginia was now called in; but while the servant performed that duty,Sir William replied, "I am exceedingly mortified, madam, that you seemto place the fulfilment of this long-treasured scheme upon a contingencyso light."
"Do you then consider a young lady's being permitted to have a voice inchoosing her partner for life, a light contingency, Sir William?"
"I think, madam, that her parents are more capable of making a selectionwhich will confer honour upon them and her, than she can possibly be.Our best families would soon arrive at a very plebeian level, were everyfemale descendant to be permitted to indulge her love-sick fancies,instead of consulting the interest and honour of her house. But it maybe that this discussion is useless in the present instance. Here, madam,comes your daughter, who will decide."
Virginia entered, pale and trembling with alarm and vague presentimentsof evil; her hands were crossed upon her breast, and her eyes downcast.After making a reverential courtesy to the Governor, she instinctivelystood before him, awaiting his commands as one upon trial. However harshthe Governor's opinions to the mother, policy dictated a very differentcourse toward the daughter; he accordingly led her to a seat besidehimself, and with the most bland and courteous manner, thus addressedher,
"I come, my niece, as an ambassador from poor Frank, with full powers toask of your mother this fair hand in marriage; and I must take the sameopportunity to declare the happiness it would give Lady Berkley andmyself, to receive you into our mansion as the wife of our kinsman, andthe daughter of our affections."
The mildness and the unusual condescension of her formal unclecompletely threw Virginia from the stately and unequivocal answer whichshe had meditated when first summoned; for it will be recollected thatshe had already had an intimation of his intentions. She could do noless than feel grateful for his own undoubted affection, and she felt itextremely difficult properly to express this feeling, connected as itmust be with the overthrow of his dearest hopes. After the most painfulembarrassment, she was enabled to answer: "To you, my dear uncle, I havealways felt grateful for the more than paternal affection which you haveshown to me, and I must feel not less so for the motives which promptedyou to undertake the present mission; but with all my affection foryourself and desire to please you, and all my gratitude to Mr. Beverlyfor the honour which he intended me, I must beg leave to decline hisoffer."
"Wherefore must you decline it, Virginia?" asked Sir William, with themost evident chagrin and surprise.
"Simply because I cannot reciprocate the affection which I am informedMr. Beverly entertains for me."
"You have never made the trial, niece; you have not taken five minutesto consider the importance of the proposition which I have had thehonour to lay before you. Reconsider your hasty answer; take time toform a mature opinion of the many advantages which the connexion holdsout. See Frank himself when he recovers, and my word for it, he willmake as many love-sick speeches as would woo a lady from Charles'court."
"It is not necessary, my dear uncle; I have long meditated upon thesubject, having by accident heard of the proposed union before you werepleased to communicate it in person."
"What is your objection to Frank? It is certainly no satisfactoryanswer, to say you cannot reciprocate his affection, when you have neveryet given him an opportunity to plead his cause in person. He isunquestionably as well favoured a youth in regard to personalattributes, as any in the Colony, and I flatter myself as well born andof as bright expectations?"
"I have no objections to urge, Sir William; Mr. Beverly is undoubtedlyall that you say he is, but he never can be more to me than he is atpresent; for this determination I have many reasons satisfactory to myown sense of propriety, but which it is neither necessary nor proper forme to urge. One I will however give you, with the hope of for eversetting the question a
t rest. My affections are already engaged!"
Had a thunderbolt hurled the old Cavalier from his seat, he could nothave been more astounded. Mrs. Fairfax was scarcely less so. Sir Williamglanced from her countenance to that of her daughter, as if he expectedthe former to overwhelm her daughter with reproaches, his own anger allthe while displaying itself in the contortions of his inflamed andglowing countenance. But seeing her astonishment subsiding intocomplacency instead of anger, his own broke forth--
"What! bestow your affections unasked? and upon whom pray!"
"I have not bestowed them unasked, Sir."
"Has any gentleman asked and obtained permission of you, to address yourdaughter?" he inquired, turning to Mrs. Fairfax.
"None, Sir."
"Who then is the favoured swain? Who has dared to interfere in thismatter unauthorized by the consent of your only surviving parent ormyself?"
"For him I have neither the right nor the will to speak. At the propertime he will doubtless do it for himself," said Virginia, as she arosewith offended dignity to leave the room.
"Hear me yet a moment," cried Sir William, with the most ill disguisedefforts to appear calm. "If the person, who has thus intruded into yourfamily, is of proper birth, connexions, and expectations, and his suitshould meet with your mother's approbation, I of course have no right tointerfere. But remember, should you attempt to form an alliance with anindividual who would disgrace my family, to which you are nearlyconnected, I will, if there be none other to perform the office, withmine own hands tear him from the very foot of the altar, and mete to himsuch a reward as his temerity demands."
At this moment the door opened, and Nathaniel Bacon entered, with anexpression of unalloyed delight upon his countenance. He had just heardthe joyful tidings from the medical attendant of his rival. He metVirginia face to face, just within the sweep of the door, and perceivingno other object at the moment, attempted gayly to seize her hand, but nocorresponding movement being perceptible, he paused to examine hercountenance, at the same time glancing at the offended visiter, whosescowling eyes were fixed upon him. Virginia's countenance was like amirror to reflect her feelings, and had there been no intelligibleexpression upon the face of the Governor, Bacon would readily havecomprehended the attitude of the various parties. These observations,however, were the work of an instant, for Sir William no soonerperceived his presence, than he sprung to his feet, his brow growingdarker every moment. He had entirely misinterpreted Bacon's appearanceat that critical juncture. His suspicions had all along pointed to him,and he now imagined that his presence was the result of preconcerteddesign. "To what motive, Sir," he cried, "am I indebted for thisintrusion? Have you come to congratulate me upon the recovery of myyoung kinsman, of whom your murderous hand had well nigh deprived me?"
Bacon wheeled partly upon his heel, as if endeavouring to force himselfout of the room, without answering the choleric old Cavalier, but seeingVirginia turn her head and cast an indignant glance at the offender, hisown hard schooled feelings broke forth also. "To no particular motive,Sir, are you indebted for this visit: it was the result of the purestaccident. I knew not that your Excellency was in the house, and cameinto this room in the ordinary free and unchallenged mode ofintercourse, to which the inmates of this most hospitable and generousfamily are accustomed."
"Ay, Sir Stripling, and unless I am grossly deceived, your intercoursehas not gone unchallenged for nothing."
"To what is your Excellency pleased to allude."
"Have you not studiously endeavoured to undermine the most importantfamily arrangements of those who cherished and protected your infancy?Have you not stung the bosom that warmed you into existence? Have younot been callous to the claims of gratitude, due alike to the living andthe dead? Have you not attempted to beguile the only daughter of yourpatron into a disgraceful alliance?"
Bacon resisted the mild and persuasive endeavours of Mrs. Fairfax tolead him from the room, whence Virginia had already departed, while hereplied, drawing himself up to an erect and perfectly composed anddignified attitude,
"If your Excellency chooses so far to forget, what is alike due to yourstation--to yourself, to the present company, and to me, as to permityourself to ask such questions, you cannot expect me so far to forgetmyself as to answer them!" and with this reply he left the room.
The Governor, after indulging in the most vehement bursts of passion,and threats of vengeance against Bacon, should he dare to connecthimself with his family, and in vain endeavours to extort a promise fromMrs. Fairfax, never to give her consent, left the house in the mosttowering and ungovernable rage.
He had scarcely crossed the threshold, before Bacon returned to the sameroom, leading Virginia by the hand, having held a very interestingconversation with her in another apartment. Mrs. Fairfax was sittingapparently absorbed in the most painful reflections. As the youthfulpair entered, a slight clearing away of the clouds which had gatheredupon her countenance might be perceived. They walked deliberately up towhere she sat, and seated themselves one on each side of her: when Baconthus spoke--
"It was not my intention, dear madam, thus to intrude upon your sorrows,but I may be pardoned for presenting myself as a petitioner at yourfeet, when another, high in station and dignity, has thought proper toforget those claims. Had he confined himself to the legitimate object ofhis mission, I had perhaps still forborne, but when he has stepped outof his way rudely to thrust me before you as the disorganizer of yourfamily arrangements, and as the serpent who has stolen into your housein order to poison your brightest hopes and fondest anticipations, Ihave thought it became me at once to state to you how far I haveoffended.
"It is true, dear madam, that I have not been insensible to the manycharms of your daughter's person and disposition. You have witnessed, Iwould fain hope, not unobservantly, the dear delights of our firstchildish intercourse, when our minds and hearts were drawn together byan affection and a congeniality of taste and sentiment which wesupposed, if we thought of it at all, was purely fraternal; and thenwhen our minds began to expand, and our affections to assume and todisplay their real character, and finally when we came thoroughly tounderstand each other and ourselves, you were not a heedless spectatorof these progressive changes and developments; and having seen, I cannotbelieve that you would have permitted this mutual affection to grow toits present maturity and strength, intending to deny its sanction at thelast, when the cure might so easily have been made by nipping the tenderflower in the bud. Speak, I pray you madam! Our fate hangs upon yourwords!"
"I will not pretend to you, my children, that I have not observed themutual affection which has grown up between you from its earliest dawn.Nor will I disguise from you that it gave me pleasure mingled with muchpain. Many long and dreary nights have I lain upon my pillow,anticipating what I then supposed would be the fierce struggles of thismoment. I calculated with the usual short sightedness of mortals, thathe who will ne'er partake in our councils more, would have been here todecide upon your wishes.
"I supposed that his own family pride would first have been to conquer,then I thought of the fierce resistance which the greater pride of hiskinsman, Sir William, would offer--the interview of this morning showshow truly. After all these painful misgivings, however, and the maturestjudgment that I could bestow upon the subject, I came to the resolutionto suffer what seemed the predestined current of events to run itscourse. Providence has by a most painful process removed the onlyobstacle you had to fear, my children, and he, had he been alive, woulddoubtless have finally given his consent rather than attempt to tear upforcibly by its roots a passion like yours, the growth of years andintimate knowledge of each other. I therefore give you my consent, mychildren, that you be united in marriage, and the sooner the better, asthe first storm upon its announcement once over, all these contendingpassions which drive you into broils and strife will cease."
As she concluded speaking, Virginia, down whose cheeks the tears hadbeen rapidly coursing each other, sunk upon her knees,
in which positionshe was instantly joined by her now acknowledged and betrothed lover.Mrs. Fairfax placed her hands upon their heads, tears bedimming her owneyes, and blessed them, and then kissed her daughter as she was about toleave the room. When she was gone, Bacon resumed the subject of theirdiscourse. "O say, dear Madam, how soon will you consent to thecompletion of our happiness? I address myself to you in the firstinstance, in order that I may use your name in my appeal to yourdaughter for an early day."
"As soon as you can persuade Virginia to consent. I would seriously andearnestly recommend two things with regard to your nuptials, the rest Ileave to yourselves, namely, that they take place as privately aspossible, for fear of Sir William's violence; and secondly, as soon aspossible, in order that you may anticipate the complete recovery ofyoung Mr. Beverly."
"Oh, madam, may Heaven bless your wisdom and benevolence. I am nowdoubly armed, and will seek your daughter, and I hope soon return with afavourable answer."
Accordingly he flew out of the room, and in a few moments she heard himloudly calling her daughter's name through all the portals of the house,and rapping at every door, but no Virginia was to be found. At length,however, he sallied forth into the garden, when he found her in hersummer-house, apparently in profound study of some favourite Author'snew publication, perhaps Milton's "Paradise Regained." His argumentsfell apparently upon a deaf ear. She continued to read, regardless ofhis passionate gesticulations and burning words. Her cheeks glowedvividly enough, but she gave no other evidence that she was conscious ofhis presence. At length he seized her hand, and forcibly but gently ledher before her mother, like a culprit, as she doubtless felt herself,for her eyes were downcast, and a crimson blush suffused her neck andtemples. Mrs. Fairfax attempted in vain to assume a grave and judicialexpression. She succeeded, however, in convincing the young pair thatthe safety and the peace of many of their family circle depended upontheir speedy nuptials. It was doubtless for these reasons alone, thatthey soon agreed amicably upon an early day, until which time we willleave the imagination of the reader to follow the young pair throughflowery beds of roses and tulips, and the more flowery anticipations of"Love's young dream."
CHAPTER XVI.
The appointed day at length arrived--it was ushered in by no cheeringomens from without or within the mansion of Mrs. Fairfax. No warblingsongsters from the feathered tribes perched upon the window of ourheroine, or hopped from flower to flower through the garden beneath, towoo her from her slumbers; and the heavens themselves gave lowering andsultry evidence of an approaching storm. In the east it was misty andunsettled; while a long curtain of dark frowning clouds, heavily chargedwith electric fire, hung in portentous masses along the whole line ofthe western horizon. The atmosphere was hot and oppressive, the wholeaspect of the weather such as invariably casts a damp upon the spirits.
Virginia required no sweet serenade to call her from her slumbers. Shewas already awake, as indeed she had been through most of the night. Afeverish dread of undefined approaching evil, had dimly floated throughher excited brain during her waking hours, and yet more shadowy horrorsdisturbed her partial and unrefreshing sleep. Her morning habilimentswere donned earlier than usual, without the assistance of her Indianattendant; yet she marvelled at her unwonted absence. She usually sleptin an adjoining apartment, and hither Virginia bent her steps to chidethe tardy maiden for her strange neglect on so important an occasion. Nolittle surprise was visible in her countenance, when she found not onlythe apartment untenanted, but that the bed upon which Wyanokee usuallyslept, was undisturbed, or that if used at all, it had been slightlydisarranged, only as if with a deceptive purpose. She repeated her namethroughout the house and garden, but no answer was returned. Her voicesoon aroused her mother, who was no less surprised at the circumstancesrelated by her daughter. Together they went to the apartment, and againexamined the bed, which had evidently not been slept in. And now otherappearances struck them, which had not before attracted their attention.The dress she had worn on the previous day, hung in a closet answeringthe purposes of a wardrobe, together with the whole of her apparel, thegift of Virginia or her mother. Not an article could be recollected ofthese, which was not there. They seemed, moreover, to have beenstudiously arranged so as to attract attention in this particular. Onthe other hand, every garment of Indian fabric which she had preservedthrough her captivity, was gone. The moccasins she had worn on theprevious day--the Indian beads, wampum, and other ornaments of nativeorigin, were nowhere to be seen.
All the gifts of Bacon and Mr. Fairfax, some of which were of gold andsilver, were conspicuously arranged upon a shelf in the same apartment.Many of these she had hitherto constantly worn in her ears, and upon herwrists and ankles.
As they were pursuing their researches Virginia discovered the window ofthe room in which her attendant had always slept, shut down upon the endof an Indian arrow. She raised the sash and drew in the missile, in theend of which, inserted in a split and bound with a strip of the fibre ofa sinew, was the identical blue feather Wyanokee had plucked from thegory locks of the slain King Fisher, the last of the Chickahominychiefs. The arrow was pointed in the direction of the nation's huntingground. The language of these symbols Virginia understood but too well;she had too long made Wyanokee a subject of study, as well as ofinstruction, not to understand that the feather indicated her flight tothe dwellings of her tribe. She also thought she saw many collateralindications in the time chosen for her elopement--the arrangements ofher English garments, and more especially of the gifts she had receivedfrom Bacon. She doubted not in her own mind that the resolution ofWyanokee was in some way connected with the approaching ceremony, butshe did not communicate her suspicions to her mother, because they wereas yet not clearly defined in her own thoughts. They received momentarycorroboration however, as many circumstances recurred to her mind,which were trivial in themselves, but important in connexion with thepresent discovery, and which have been from time to time hinted at inthe progress of our narrative.
The impression left upon the mind of our Heroine by these incidentsproduced any thing but the joyous, elastic and happy mood, her youngdreams had always anticipated for her wedding day. There were many othersubjects of apprehension to mar the pleasures of the time. GovernorBerkley had left her mother's house overflowing with wrath, andthreatening speedy vengeance against her betrothed.
Few persons ever became indebted to Sir William Berkley in a matter ofpersonal hatred or ill will, who did not sooner or later find him a hardand exacting creditor. With all her love for her uncle she knew hisharsh and unyielding nature, and dreaded his power.
The natural apprehensions of a modest, gentle, and tenderly educatedmaiden on her wedding day, are at all times sufficiently powerful ofthemselves; but joined to the unfavourable omens and sources of anxietyby which Virginia was surrounded, they were overpowering. Her breakfastremained before her untouched, notwithstanding her mother's endeavoursto cheer her drooping spirits.
A short and animated conversation with her lover, as the day began towane, partially recalled her wonted cheerfulness, but when he was goneshe relapsed into her former mood. The aspect of the heavens seemed toher to grow momentarily more portentous. Already the thunder was heardrolling in the west, and black masses of threatening clouds weregradually closing in from every point of the horizon. The wrath ofHeaven itself seemed to our heroine gathering over the city. Thisnervous excitement of mind will not be wondered at when it is rememberedthat a short time only had intervened since dark and mysteriousinjunctions had been urged against the marriage, of which the appointedtime was now so near at hand; and to this must be added the state ofalarm and agitation in which she had since been kept by insurrections,outrages, personal strifes and deadly feuds between her friends; andabove all, by the violent and sudden death of her father. In the shortspace of a few weeks her once tranquil and happy existence had beenchanged into one of painful trials and vicissitudes. The night wasrapidly closing in. There hung the bridal garments, and there stood
thetire woman waiting her commands. At this juncture a carriage drove up tothe door, steps were let down, the knocker sounded, and in the nextmoment the gay brides-maid bounded into the room, arrayed for theoccasion. Her countenance was radiant with smiles as she entered, butperceiving her friend's sombre mood she walked round her sundry timesand then raised her hands and eyes in pretended astonishment, as sheexclaimed, "Do I mistake! Was it indeed to your wedding that I wasinvited? For shame, Virginia! shake off these sickly fancies. Come,rouse yourself, and I will be your tire woman. Our family will soon behere, the carriage has gone back for them. Will that not move you? Thenyour lawful lord and"--
Here Virginia rose and placed her hand upon the lips of the lively girl,yet with a look which seemed at the same time to intimate nounwillingness to be cajoled or rallied from her present serious humour.
The wedding was to be kept a profound secret from all but the invitedguests, and those who were to officiate at the ceremony. The formerconsisted only of Mr. Harrison's family, and the latter of the clergymanof the Established Church, who officiated at Jamestown--Charles Dudleywho was to give away the bride, and Harriet as brides-maid.
The appointed hour of nine at length arrived. Assembled in the parlourbelow, the various parties awaited the appearance of the bride.Carriages were already at the door; the chapel lighted, and the priesthabited in the robes of his sacred office.
Bacon, after sundry movements towards the door at which she was expectedto enter, could subdue his impatience no longer, and at once mounted thestaircase. He met the two maidens on their way down; Virginia apparentlyhaving imbibed some of her friend's spirit and vivacity, which she somuch needed. She placed her hand timidly but confidingly in that ofBacon as they entered the room. Both she, and her attendant, wererobed in virgin white--and certainly never were dresses moreappropriate;--they were both young, innocent, beautiful, and intenselyinteresting, in the position which they now occupied.
Bacon and Dudley were dressed exactly alike, and rather in the costumeof the preceding, than of the present reign; the latter not yet havingmade its way to Jamestown. They wore doublets of scarlet velvet, withlarge loose sleeves slashed up the front; the collar covered by afalling band of the richest point lace, with a vandyke edging. Theirbreeches were of white silk, and fringed at the bottom, where theyunited with their silk stockings, amidst a profusion of ribands andornaments of lace. Their shoes were ornamented over the buckle straps,with white bridal roses wrought in silk. Hanging gallantly upon oneshoulder, they wore the short and graceful blue cloak of the period: notin such a manner, however, as to conceal in any degree the gayappearance of the costume which it completed, but so as to be thrownaside and resumed at a moment's notice. This latter article being lightand graceful, and worn more for ornament than use, was always thrownaside for the military buff coat on warlike occasions.
The party, preceded by the priest, entered the waiting vehicles. Just asthey were seated according to the order of previous arrangement, avivid flash of lightning shot athwart the horizon, succeeded by a crashof thunder loud and fearful, as if the eternal hills themselves hadagain been shattered into chaos. The females drew themselves into thecorners of the carriage, covering their eyes, and the gentlemen weresilent, while the God of the Universe, spoke through his thunders.
The drive to the church was as short as it was silent. The priestentered his desk and laid open the sacred volume, while the variousparties arranged according to order in a semicircle round the altar,waited upon his words.
The chapel was dimly lighted, except immediately around the parties, inaccordance with the strict privacy of the celebration. Mrs. Fairfax wasas calm and benignant as was consistent with her usual settledmelancholy. Virginia was pale as a marble statue, her head justsufficiently inclined forward to suspend her bridal veil in graceful andflowing folds before her exquisitely formed figure. Harriet's vivacitywas subdued to respectful and mute attention. The sound of theclergyman's voice could just be heard at intervals between the awfulpeals of thunder, while the lurid flashes contrasting with the feeblerays of the lamps, rendered the surrounding gloom more impressive. Thewords which fell from the lips of the sacred functionary were somethinglike the following:
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, andin the face of this company, to join together this Man and this Woman inholy matrimony; which is an honourable estate instituted of God in thetime of man's innocency, signifying unto us the mystical union that isbetwixt Christ and his church; which holy estate Christ adorned andbeautified with his presence and first miracle that he wrought in Canaof Galilee; and is commended of Saint Paul to be honourable among allmen; and therefore is not by any to be enterprised or taken in handunadvisedly--lightly, or wantonly--to satisfy men's carnal lusts andappetites, like brute beasts that have no understanding; but reverently,discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in fear of God, duly considering thecauses for which matrimony was ordained.
"First, it was ordained for the procreation of children to be brought upin the fear and nurture of the Lord, and to the praise of his holy name.
"Secondly, it was ordained for a remedy against sin, and to avoidfornication, that such persons as have not the gift of continency mightmarry and keep themselves undefiled members of Christ's body.
"Thirdly, it was ordained for the mutual society, help, and comfort thatthe one ought to have of the other--both in prosperity and adversity.
"Into which holy estate, these two persons present come now to bejoined. Therefore if any man can show any just cause, why they may notlawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace."
A solemn silence prevailed through the dimly lighted aisles, as theusual pause was allowed for the answer. At this juncture, and while thesmall party around the altar held their breath in mute astonishment andwonder, the door was rudely thrust open, and a gigantic figure strodedown the hollow sounding aisle. His heavy footfalls rung upon Virginia'ssensitive organs like the funeral knell of departed peace. He walkeddirectly towards the altar, until he stood immediately behind theyouthful pair about to plight their faith, his tall figure towering farabove their heads.[5] Over his face he held a black mask, as he thusspoke, in answer to the general challenge of the priest.
[Footnote 5: The reader will perceive when the proper time comes fordisclosing from what authentic annals this character is taken--that wehave but described his person, as the grave words of History portrayedhim.]
"Well mayest thou say that now or never is the time to speak the justcause which interposes to prevent the consummation of this union. Thatcause know I. But its revelation, now rendered imperative, will be likeunto tearing up with irreverent hands the mysterious secrets of thecharnel house beneath our feet. Oh God, why could not this duty havebeen spared to me!"
His huge frame shuddered with convulsive emotion as he paused and seemedto view from beneath his mask his astounded and breathless auditors. Theclergyman seized the opportunity to repeat with solemnity the challenge."If any man can show any just cause why this youthful pair may notlawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace!"
"They cannot lawfully be joined together because they are the childrenof the same mother!"
The silence of death prevailed throughout the chapel. Respiration andreflection itself seemed suspended upon the awful announcement of theRecluse, while he fell back upon one of the seats of the aisle andcovered his face with his hands in unutterable anguish.
Mrs. Fairfax had been visibly agitated from the first moment of thisstartling interruption, by some more dreadful emotion than the surpriseand vague alarm of those about her, but now desperation itself nervedher sinking powers, as she stepped a pace forward and uttered in adistinct voice. "It is false! proceed with the ceremony." Harrison andDudley instinctively felt for their arms, the former exclaiming, "He ismad--staring mad! be it our business to prevent this irreverentinterruption!"
But the Recluse immediate
ly sprung upon his feet, throwing his mask uponthe floor as he stood full in front of Mrs. Fairfax, and exclaimed,pointing with his index finger to his time-worn countenance; "Look thouupon these long forgotten lineaments, and then upon these (laying hishand upon Bacon's head) and testify before Heaven and earth whether Ihave not spoken truth! a fearful truth!"
The person appealed to stood for some moments like a statue, her eyesprotruding from their sockets, as if a tenant of the grave indeed stoodbefore her--her hand at length slowly rose from her side and wanderedthrough the vacant air as if she would have submitted the spectre to thetest of feeling--imperfectly measuring the distance however between herown person and the object sought, it fell again powerless by her side.Her lips moved as if she were in the act of holding a conversation withthe being who had addressed her, but no sound issued from them. Thepupils of her eyes were painfully distended, and their whole expressionwild and bewildered. At length her chest began to heave convulsively,when she made a wild and desperate effort to rush upon the object of hergaze, but fell prostrate on the floor before she had attained half thedistance between them. As she fell she cried in the most piteousaccents, "Charles! Charles!" and then swooned away.
Charles Dudley, who had till now assisted Bacon in supporting hisfainting bride, resigned his charge to Mr. Harrison and ran to Mrs.Fairfax, supposing himself to be the person thus piteouslyapostrophized. He took the fallen lady in his arms and raised her partlyfrom the floor, but no symptoms of returning animation were visible.While he thus supported her head upon one knee, kneeling upon the other,assisted by the clergyman and friends, and Bacon and Mr. Harrisonsupporting Virginia, who was in little better condition, a tumultuouscrowd rushed in at the door, headed by Sir William Berkley himself,exclaiming to his minions, "Tear him from the altar! tear the upstartfrom the altar."
But as he ran with his drawn sword towards the pulpit, something in theattitude and expression of the various parties at once arrested his handand voice.
There is a power of expression in deep and irremediable sorrow whichcannot be looked upon without emotion. Boisterous and outrageous as SirWilliam Berkley had entered the chapel, his fierce nature was instantlysubdued by the appearance of his sister-in-law and her daughter. Thecrowd which followed were instinctively awed into silence by the samepowerful and speaking appeals.
When the announcement of the lawful cause which prevented theconsummation of the union first fell upon Bacon's ear, his head sankupon his breast, and although he mechanically clasped Virginia round thewaist, as he felt her clinging to him, and sinking at his side; he stoodstupefied with horror, holding up his lifeless burden, entirely enableto think or act. His habitual and superstitious reverence for everything uttered by the Recluse, induced him to receive the firstimpression of his words unchallenged even in his own mind.
By the time that Sir William Berkley and his party arrived, the Reclusehad disappeared; every one was so much absorbed by the instant andpressing calls for assistance and sympathy from the suffering females,that the time of his departure was entirely unnoticed.
The Governor had no sooner recovered from his first shock and surprise,than he made his way to one of the young Harrisons to learn the cause ofthe present appearance of the parties, so different from what he hadbeen taught to expect. Although he did not believe that there was oneword of truth in the cause assigned for the interruption of theceremony, he was well enough satisfied that the parties themselves, andMrs. Fairfax should believe it. No matter to him what horrors theysuffered, he considered it all but a just punishment for their attemptedmesalliance. As for Bacon, and his horror-stricken feelings, Sir Williamdid not deign to bestow a thought or word upon them, after the firsthasty exclamation with which he had entered the door. By his orders, thefemale sufferers were placed in a carriage, and removed to his ownhouse. Bacon resigned his charge with a listless apathy, bordering onstupefaction, and to a superficial observer, such would doubtless havebeen the impression; but his was the deadly deceitful calm whichprecedes the coming storm. The most horrible of all human sufferings isthat where no tear is or can be shed--where no enemy presents himselffor vengeance--no hope for the future, all having been perilled andlost upon a single throw. Bacon felt himself thus situated--thecherished hopes of a lifetime were blasted in an instant, not only forthe present, but under such circumstances as to cut off all hope for thefuture. The object of his passion could not henceforth be enshrined in aholy secret worship of the soul, such as is sometimes kept up through along life of celibacy for the lost one.
No mortified pride arose to his relief! he could not hate--he dared notlove the object around which his whole heart and soul were entwined. Thevery light of his eyes--the sun of his existence--his delights of thepresent--hopes of the future--all, all were blotted from existence in amoment. The very retrospects of the past were poisoned. Could he bear todwell upon the enrapturing delights of their young loves, when theobject and participator was now discovered to be his own sister? Towhichever aspect of the case he turned, he as speedily revolted inhorror. It was while these things were tearing and racking his soul,that he appeared to feel externally less than might have been expected.His mind and feelings were precipitately rolled back upon their ownresources, and the suddenly dammed up waters of bitterness sought ventat every avenue. Virginia was no sooner taken from him, however, thanhis perceptions seemed roused at once to the full horror andhopelessness of his fate. Without his castor, and still decked in hisgay bridal attire, he burst from the crowd, prostrating the Governor'sminions to the right and left, as he felled a passage to the door. Hiseye had lost its abstracted expression; it was deadly fierce andterrifically wild as he rushed forth into the kindred storm without--noone knew whither.
END OF VOLUME FIRST.
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