CHAPTER XX
Credit me, friend, it hath been ever thus, Since the ark rested on Mount Ararat. False man hath sworn, and woman hath believed-- Repented and reproach'd, and then believed once more. _The New World._
By the time that Margaret returned with Monna Paula, the Lady Hermionewas rising from the table at which she had been engaged in writingsomething on a small slip of paper, which she gave to her attendant.
"Monna Paula," she said, "carry this paper to Roberts the cash-keeper;let them give you the money mentioned in the note, and bring it hitherpresently."
Monna Paula left the room, and her mistress proceeded.
"I do not know," she said, "Margaret, if I have done, and am doing,well in this affair. My life has been one of strange seclusion, and I amtotally unacquainted with the practical ways of this world--an ignorancewhich I know cannot be remedied by mere reading.--I fear I am doingwrong to you, and perhaps to the laws of the country which affords merefuge, by thus indulging you; and yet there is something in my heartwhich cannot resist your entreaties."
"O, listen to it--listen to it, dear, generous lady!" said Margaret,throwing herself on her knees and grasping those of her benefactressand looking in that attitude like a beautiful mortal in the actof supplicating her tutelary angel; "the laws of men are but theinjunctions of mortality, but what the heart prompts is the echo of thevoice from heaven within us."
"Rise, rise, maiden," said Hermione; "you affect me more than I thoughtI could have been moved by aught that should approach me. Rise and tellme whence it comes, that, in so short a time, your thoughts, your looks,your speech, and even your slightest actions, are changed from thoseof a capricious and fanciful girl, to all this energy and impassionedeloquence of word and action?"
"I am sure I know not, dearest lady," said Margaret, looking down; "butI suppose that, when I was a trifler, I was only thinking of trifles.What I now reflect is deep and serious, and I am thankful if my speechand manner bear reasonable proportion to my thoughts."
"It must be so," said the lady; "yet the change seems a rapid andstrange one. It seems to be as if a childish girl had at once shot upinto deep-thinking and impassioned woman, ready to make exertions alike,and sacrifices, with all that vain devotion to a favourite object ofaffection, which is often so basely rewarded."
The Lady Hermione sighed bitterly, and Monna Paula entered ere theconversation proceeded farther. She spoke to her mistress in the foreignlanguage in which they frequently conversed, but which was unknown toMargaret.
"We must have patience for a time," said the lady to her visitor; "thecash-keeper is abroad on some business, but he is expected home in thecourse of half an hour."
Margaret wrung her hands in vexation and impatience.
"Minutes are precious," continued the lady; "that I am well aware of;and we will at least suffer none of them to escape us. Monna Paula shallremain below and transact our business, the very instant that Robertsreturns home."
She spoke to her attendant accordingly, who again left the room.
"You are very kind, madam--very good," said the poor little Margaret,while the anxious trembling of her lip and of her hand showed all thatsickening agitation of the heart which arises from hope deferred.
"Be patient, Margaret, and collect yourself," said the lady; "youmay, you must, have much to do to carry through this your boldpurpose--reserve your spirits, which you may need so much--bepatient--it is the only remedy against the evils of life."
"Yes, madam," said Margaret, wiping her eyes, and endeavouring invain to suppress the natural impatience of her temper,--"I have heardso--very often indeed; and I dare say I have myself, heaven forgive me,said so to people in perplexity and affliction; but it was before Ihad suffered perplexity and vexation myself, and I am sure I will neverpreach patience to any human being again, now that I know how much themedicine goes against the stomach."
"You will think better of it, maiden," said the Lady Hermione; "I also,when I first felt distress, thought they did me wrong who spoke to meof patience; but my sorrows have been repeated and continued till I havebeen taught to cling to it as the best, and--religious duties excepted,of which, indeed, patience forms a part--the only alleviation which lifecan afford them."
Margaret, who neither wanted sense nor feeling, wiped her tears hastily,and asked her patroness's forgiveness for her petulance.
"I might have thought"--she said, "I ought to have reflected, that evenfrom the manner of your life, madam, it is plain you must have sufferedsorrow; and yet, God knows, the patience which I have ever seen youdisplay, well entitles you to recommend your own example to others."
The lady was silent for a moment, and then replied--
"Margaret, I am about to repose a high confidence in you. You are nolonger a child, but a thinking and a feeling woman. You have told me asmuch of your secret as you dared--I will let you know as much of mine asI may venture to tell. You will ask me, perhaps, why, at a moment whenyour own mind is agitated, I should force upon you the consideration ofmy sorrows? and I answer, that I cannot withstand the impulse which nowinduces me to do so. Perhaps from having witnessed, for the first timethese three years, the natural effects of human passion, my ownsorrows have been awakened, and are for the moment too big for my ownbosom--perhaps I may hope that you, who seem driving full sail on thevery rock on which I was wrecked for ever, will take warning by the taleI have to tell. Enough, if you are willing to listen, I am willing totell you who the melancholy inhabitant of the Foljambe apartments reallyis, and why she resides here. It will serve, at least, to while away thetime until Monna Paula shall bring us the reply from Roberts."
At any other moment of her life, Margaret Ramsay would have heardwith undivided interest a communication so flattering in itself, andreferring to a subject upon which the general curiosity had been sostrongly excited. And even at this agitating moment, although she ceasednot to listen with an anxious ear and throbbing heart for the sound ofMonna Paula's returning footsteps, she nevertheless, as gratitude andpolicy, as well as a portion of curiosity dictated, composed herself,in appearance at least, to the strictest attention to the Lady Hermione,and thanked her with humility for the high confidence she was pleasedto repose in her. The Lady Hermione, with the same calmness which alwaysattended her speech and actions, thus recounted her story to her youngfriend:
"My father," she said, "was a merchant, but he was of a city whosemerchants are princes. I am the daughter of a noble house in Genoa,whose name stood as high in honour and in antiquity, as any inscribed inthe Golden Register of that famous aristocracy.
"My mother was a noble Scottish woman. She was descended--do notstart--and not remotely descended, of the house of Glenvarloch--nowonder that I was easily led to take concern in the misfortunes of thisyoung lord. He is my near relation, and my mother, who was more thansufficiently proud of her descent, early taught me to take an interestin the name. My maternal grandfather, a cadet of that house ofGlenvarloch, had followed the fortunes of an unhappy fugitive, FrancisEarl of Bothwell, who, after showing his miseries in many a foreigncourt, at length settled in Spain upon a miserable pension, whichhe earned by conforming to the Catholic faith. Ralph Olifaunt, mygrandfather, separated from him in disgust, and settled at Barcelona,where, by the friendship of the governor, his heresy, as it was termed,was connived at. My father, in the course of his commerce, resided moreat Barcelona than in his native country, though at times he visitedGenoa.
"It was at Barcelona that he became acquainted with my mother, lovedher, and married her; they differed in faith, but they agreed inaffection. I was their only child. In public I conformed to thedocterins and ceremonial of the Church of Rome; but my mother, by whomthese were regarded with horror, privately trained me up in those of thereformed religion; and my father, either indifferent in the matter, orunwilling to distress the woman whom he loved, overlooked or connived atmy secretly joining in her devotions.
"But when, unhappily, my
father was attacked, while yet in the primeof life, by a slow wasting disease, which he felt to be incurable, heforesaw the hazard to which his widow and orphan might be exposed, afterhe was no more, in a country so bigoted to Catholicism as Spain. He madeit his business, during the two last years of his life, to realize andremit to England a large part of his fortune, which, by the faith andhonour of his correspondent, the excellent man under whose roof I nowreside, was employed to great advantage. Had my father lived to completehis purpose, by withdrawing his whole fortune from commerce, he himselfwould have accompanied us to England, and would have beheld us settledin peace and honour before his death. But heaven had ordained itotherwise. He died, leaving several sums engaged in the hands of hisSpanish debtors; and, in particular, he had made a large and extensiveconsignment to a certain wealthy society of merchants at Madrid, whoshowed no willingness after his death to account for the proceeds. Wouldto God we had left these covetous and wicked men in possession of theirbooty, for such they seemed to hold the property of their deceasedcorrespondent and friend! We had enough for comfort, and even splendour,already secured in England; but friends exclaimed upon the follyof permitting these unprincipled men to plunder us of our rightfulproperty. The sum itself was large, and the claim having been made,my mother thought that my father's memory was interested in its beingenforced, especially as the defences set up for the mercantile societywent, in some degree, to impeach the fairness of his transactions.
"We went therefore to Madrid. I was then, my Margaret, about your age,young and thoughtless, as you have hitherto been--We went, I say, toMadrid, to solicit the protection of the Court and of the king, withoutwhich we were told it would be in vain to expect justice against anopulent and powerful association.
"Our residence at the Spanish metropolis drew on from weeks to months.For my part, my natural sorrow for a kind, though not a fond father,having abated, I cared not if the lawsuit had detained us at Madrid forever. My mother permitted herself and me rather more liberty than wehad been accustomed to. She found relations among the Scottish and Irishofficers, many of whom held a high rank in the Spanish armies; theirwives and daughters became our friends and companions, and I hadperpetual occasion to exercise my mother's native language, which I hadlearned from my infancy. By degrees, as my mother's spirits were low,and her health indifferent, she was induced, by her partial fondness forme, to suffer me to mingle occasionally in society which she herself didnot frequent, under the guardianship of such ladies as she imagined shecould trust, and particularly under the care of the lady of a generalofficer, whose weakness or falsehood was the original cause of mymisfortunes. I was as gay, Margaret, and thoughtless--I again repeatit--as you were but lately, and my attention, like yours, becamesuddenly riveted to one object, and to one set of feelings.
"The person by whom they were excited was young, noble, handsome,accomplished, a soldier, and a Briton. So far our cases are nearlyparallel; but, may heaven forbid that the parallel should becomecomplete! This man, so noble, so fairly formed, so gifted, and sobrave--this villain, for that, Margaret, was his fittest name, spoke oflove to me, and I listened---Could I suspect his sincerity? If he waswealthy, noble, and long-descended, I also was a noble and an opulentheiress. It is true, that he neither knew the extent of my father'swealth, nor did I communicate to him (I do not even remember if I myselfknew it at the time) the important circumstance, that the greater partof that wealth was beyond the grasp of arbitrary power, and not subjectto the precarious award of arbitrary judges. My lover might think,perhaps, as my mother was desirous the world at large should believe,that almost our whole fortune depended on the precarious suit which wehad come to Madrid to prosecute--a belief which she had countenancedout of policy, being well aware that a knowledge of my father's havingremitted such a large part of his fortune to England, would in no shapeaid the recovery of further sums in the Spanish courts. Yet, with nomore extensive views of my fortune than were possessed by the public,I believe that he, of whom I am speaking, was at first sincere in hispretensions. He had himself interest sufficient to have obtained adecision in our favour in the courts, and my fortune, reckoning onlywhat was in Spain, would then have been no inconsiderable sum. To bebrief, whatever might be his motives or temptation for so far committinghimself, he applied to my mother for my hand, with my consent andapproval. My mother's judgment had become weaker, but her passions hadbecome more irritable, during her increasing illness.
"You have heard of the bitterness of the ancient Scottish feuds, ofwhich it may be said, in the language of Scripture, that the fathers eatsour grapes, and the teeth of the children are set on edge. Unhappily--Ishould say _happily_, considering what this man has now shown himselfto be--some such strain of bitterness had divided his house from mymother's, and she had succeeded to the inheritance of hatred. Whenhe asked her for my hand, she was no longer able to command herpassions--she raked up every injury which the rival families hadinflicted upon each other during a bloody feud of two centuries--heapedhim with epithets of scorn, and rejected his proposal of alliance, as ifit had come from the basest of mankind.
"My lover retired in passion; and I remained to weep and murmur againstfortune, and--I will confess my fault--against my affectionate parent.I had been educated with different feelings, and the traditions of thefeuds and quarrels of my mother's family in Scotland, which we're to hermonuments and chronicles, seemed to me as insignificant and unmeaningas the actions and fantasies of Don Quixote; and I blamed my motherbitterly for sacrificing my happiness to an empty dream of familydignity.
"While I was in this humour, my lover sought a renewal of ourintercourse. We met repeatedly in the house of the lady whom Ihave mentioned, and who, in levity, or in the spirit of intrigue,countenanced our secret correspondence. At length we were secretlymarried--so far did my blinded passion hurry me. My lover had securedthe assistance of a clergyman of the English church. Monna Paula, whohad been my attendant from infancy, was one witness of our union. Let medo the faithful creature justice--She conjured me to suspend my purposetill my mother's death should permit us to celebrate our marriageopenly; but the entreaties of my lover, and my own wayward passion,prevailed over her remonstrances. The lady I have spoken of was anotherwitness, but whether she was in full possession of my bridegroom'ssecret, I had never the means to learn. But the shelter of her name androof afforded us the means of frequently meeting, and the love of myhusband seemed as sincere and as unbounded as my own.
"He was eager, he said, to gratify his pride, by introducing me to oneor two of his noble English friends. This could not be done at LadyD---'s; but by his command, which I was now entitled to consider as mylaw, I contrived twice to visit him at his own hotel, accompanied onlyby Monna Paula. There was a very small party, of two ladies and twogentlemen. There was music, mirth, and dancing. I had heard of thefrankness of the English nation, but I could not help thinking itbordered on license during these entertainments, and in the courseof the collation which followed; but I imputed my scruples to myinexperience, and would not doubt the propriety of what was approved bymy husband.
"I was soon summoned to other scenes: My poor mother's disease drew toa conclusion--Happy I am that it took place before she discovered whatwould have cut her to the soul.
"In Spain you may have heard how the Catholic priests, and particularlythe monks, besiege the beds of the dying, to obtain bequests for thegood of the church. I have said that my mother's temper was irritated bydisease, and her judgment impaired in proportion. She gathered spiritsand force from the resentment which the priests around her bed excitedby their importunity, and the boldness of the stern sect of reformers,to which she had secretly adhered, seemed to animate her dying tongue.She avowed the religion she had so long concealed; renounced all hopeand aid which did not come by and through its dictates; rejected withcontempt the ceremonial of the Romish church; loaded the astonishedpriests with reproaches for their greediness and hypocrisy, andcommanded them to leave her house. They went in bitterness and
rage,but it was to return with the inquisitorial power, its warrants, and itsofficers; and they found only the cold corpse left of her, on whom theyhad hoped to work their vengeance. As I was soon discovered to haveshared my mother's heresy, I was dragged from her dead body, imprisonedin a solitary cloister, and treated with severity, which the Abbessassured me was due to the looseness of my life, as well as my spiritualerrors. I avowed my marriage, to justify the situation in which I foundmyself--I implored the assistance of the Superior to communicate mysituation to my husband. She smiled coldly at the proposal, and toldme the church had provided a better spouse for me; advised me to securemyself of divine grace hereafter, and deserve milder treatment here, bypresently taking the veil. In order to convince me that I had no otherresource, she showed me a royal decree, by which all my estate washypothecated to the convent of Saint Magdalen, and became their completeproperty upon my death, or my taking the vows. As I was, both fromreligious principle, and affectionate attachment to my husband,absolutely immovable in my rejection of the veil, I believe--may heavenforgive me if I wrong her--that the Abbess was desirous to make sure ofmy spoils, by hastening the former event.
"It was a small and a poor convent, and situated among the mountainsof Guadarrama. Some of the sisters were the daughters of neighbouringHidalgoes, as poor as they were proud and ignorant; others were womenimmured there on account of their vicious conduct. The Superior herselfwas of a high family, to which she owed her situation; but she was saidto have disgraced her connexions by her conduct during youth, and now,in advanced age, covetousness and the love of power, a spirit too ofseverity and cruelty, had succeeded to the thirst after licentiouspleasure. I suffered much under this woman--and still her dark, glassyeye, her tall, shrouded form, and her rigid features, haunt my slumbers.
"I was not destined to be a mother. I was very ill, and my recovery waslong doubtful. The most violent remedies were applied, if remediesthey indeed were. My health was restored at length, against my ownexpectation and that of all around me. But, when I first again beheldthe reflection of my own face, I thought it was the visage of a ghost. Iwas wont to be flattered by all, but particularly by my husband, for thefineness of my complexion--it was now totally gone, and, what is moreextraordinary, it has never returned. I have observed that the fewwho now see me, look upon me as a bloodless phantom--Such has beenthe abiding effect of the treatment to which I was subjected. May Godforgive those who were the agents of it!--I thank Heaven I can say sowith as sincere a wish, as that with which I pray for forgiveness ofmy own sins. They now relented somewhat towards me--moved perhapsto compassion by my singular appearance, which bore witness to mysufferings; or afraid that the matter might attract attention duringa visitation of the bishop, which was approaching. One day, as I waswalking in the convent-garden, to which I had been lately admitted, amiserable old Moorish slave, who was kept to cultivate the littlespot, muttered as I passed him, but still keeping his wrinkled face anddecrepit form in the same angle with the earth--'There is Heart's Easenear the postern.'
"I knew something of the symbolical language of flowers, once carried tosuch perfection among the Moriscoes of Spain; but if I had been ignorantof it, the captive would soon have caught at any hint which seemedto promise liberty. With all the haste consistent with the utmostcircumspection--for I might be observed by the Abbess or some of thesisters from the window--I hastened to the postern. It was closelybarred as usual, but when I coughed slightly, I was answered from theother side--and, O heaven! it was my husband's voice which said, 'Losenot a minute here at present, but be on this spot when the vesper bellhas tolled.'
"I retired in an ecstasy of joy. I was not entitled or permitted toassist at vespers, but was accustomed to be confined to my cell whilethe nuns were in the choir. Since my recovery, they had discontinuedlocking the door; though the utmost severity was denounced against meif I left these precincts. But, let the penalty be what it would, Ihastened to dare it.--No sooner had the last toll of the vesper bellceased to sound, than I stole from my chamber, reached the gardenunobserved, hurried to the postern, beheld it open with rapture, andin the next moment was in my husband's arms. He had with him anothercavalier of noble mien--both were masked and armed. Their horses, withone saddled for my use, stood in a thicket hard by, with two othermasked horsemen, who seemed to be servants. In less than two minutes wewere mounted, and rode off as fast as we could through rough and deviousroads, in which one of the domestics appeared to act as guide.
"The hurried pace at which we rode, and the anxiety of the moment, keptme silent, and prevented my expressing my surprise or my joy save in afew broken words. It also served as an apology for my husband's silence.At length we stopped at a solitary hut--the cavaliers dismounted, and Iwas assisted from my saddle, not by M----M----my husband, I would say,who seemed busied about his horse, but by the stranger.
"'Go into the hut,' said my husband, 'change your dress with thespeed of lightning--you will find one to _assist_ you--we must forwardinstantly when you have shifted your apparel.'
"I entered the hut, and was received in the arms of the faithful MonnaPaula, who had waited my arrival for many hours, half distracted withfear and anxiety. With her assistance I speedily tore off the detestedgarments of the convent, and exchanged them for a travelling suit, madeafter the English fashion. I observed that Monna Paula was in a similardress. I had but just huddled on my change of attire, when we werehastily summoned to mount. A horse, I found, was provided for MonnaPaula, and we resumed our route. On the way, my convent-garb, which hadbeen wrapped hastily together around a stone, was thrown into a lake,along the verge of which we were then passing. The two cavaliers rodetogether in front, my attendant and I followed, and the servants broughtup the rear. Monna Paula, as we rode on, repeatedly entreated me tobe silent upon the road, as our lives depended on it. I was easilyreconciled to be passive, for, the first fever of spirits which attendedthe sense of liberation and of gratified affection having passed away, Ifelt as it were dizzy with the rapid motion; and my utmost exertion wasnecessary to keep my place on the saddle, until we suddenly (it was nowvery dark) saw a strong light before us.
"My husband reined up his horse, and gave a signal by a low whistletwice repeated, which was answered from a distance. The whole party thenhalted under the boughs of a large cork-tree, and my husband, drawinghimself close to my side, said, in a voice which I then thought was onlyembarrassed by fear for my safety,--'We must now part. Those to whom Icommit you are contrabandists, who only know you as English-women, butwho, for a high bribe, have undertaken to escort you through the passesof the Pyrenees as far as Saint Jean de Luz.'
"'And do you not go with us?' I exclaimed with emphasis, though in awhisper.
"'It is impossible,' he said, 'and would ruin all--See that you speakin English in these people's hearing, and give not the least sign ofunderstanding what they say in Spanish--your life depends on it; for,though they live in opposition to, and evasion of, the laws of Spain,they would tremble at the idea of violating those of the church--I seethem coming--farewell--farewell.'
"The last words were hastily uttered-I endeavoured to detain him yet amoment by my feeble grasp on his cloak.
"'You will meet me, then, I trust, at Saint Jean de Luz?'
"'Yes, yes,' he answered hastily, 'at Saint Jean de Luz you will meetyour protector.'
"He then extricated his cloak from my grasp, and was lost in thedarkness. His companion approached--kissed my hand, which in theagony of the moment I was scarce sensible of, and followed my husband,attended by one of the domestics."
The tears of Hermione here flowed so fast as to threaten theinterruption of her narrative. When she resumed it, it was with a kindof apology to Margaret.
"Every circumstance," she said, "occurring in those moments, when Istill enjoyed a delusive idea of happiness, is deeply imprinted in myremembrance, which, respecting all that has since happened, is waste andunvaried as an Arabian desert. But I have no right to inflict on you,Margaret, agita
ted as you are with your own anxieties, the unavailingdetails of my useless recollections."
Margaret's eyes were full of tears--it was impossible it couldbe otherwise, considering that the tale was told by her sufferingbenefactress, and resembled, in some respects, her own situation; andyet she must not be severely blamed, if, while eagerly pressing herpatroness to continue her narrative, her eye involuntarily sought thedoor, as if to chide the delay of Monna Paula.
The Lady Hermione saw and forgave these conflicting emotions; andshe, too, must be pardoned, if, in her turn, the minute detail of hernarrative showed, that, in the discharge of feelings so long lockedin her own bosom, she rather forgot those which were personal toher auditor, and by which it must be supposed Margaret's mind wasprincipally occupied, if not entirely engrossed.
"I told you, I think, that one domestic followed the gentlemen," thusthe lady continued her story, "the other remained with us for thepurpose, as it seemed, of introducing us to two persons whom M--, Isay, whom my husband's signal had brought to the spot. A word or two ofexplanation passed between them and the servant, in a sort of _patois_,which I did not understand; and one of the strangers taking hold of mybridle, the other of Monna Paula's, they led us towards the light,which I have already said was the signal of our halting. I touched MonnaPaula, and was sensible that she trembled very much, which surprised me,because I knew her character to be so strong and bold as to border uponthe masculine.
"When we reached the fire, the gipsy figures of those who surrounded it,with their swarthy features, large Sombrero hats, girdles stuck fullof pistols and poniards, and all the other apparatus of a roving andperilous life, would have terrified me at another moment. But then Ionly felt the agony of having parted from my husband almost in the verymoment of my rescue. The females of the gang--for there were four orfive women amongst these contraband traders--received us with a sort ofrude courtesy. They were, in dress and manners, not extremely differentfrom the men with whom they associated--were almost as hardy andadventurous, carried arms like them, and were, as we learned frompassing circumstances, scarce less experienced in the use of them.
"It was impossible not to fear these wild people; yet they gave us noreason to complain of them, but used us on all occasions with a kind ofclumsy courtesy, accommodating themselves to our wants and our weaknessduring the journey, even while we heard them grumbling to each otheragainst our effeminacy,--like some rude carrier, who, in charge of apackage of valuable and fragile ware, takes every precaution for itspreservation, while he curses the unwonted trouble which it occasionshim. Once or twice, when they were disappointed in their contrabandtraffic, lost some goods in a rencontre with the Spanish officers ofthe revenue, and were finally pursued by a military force, their murmursassumed a more alarming tone, in the terrified ears of my attendant andmyself, when, without daring to seem to understand them, we heard themcurse the insular heretics, on whose account God, Saint James, andOur Lady of the Pillar, had blighted their hopes of profit. These aredreadful recollections, Margaret."
"Why, then, dearest lady," answered Margaret, "will you thus dwell onthem?"
"It is only," said the Lady Hermione, "because I linger like a criminalon the scaffold, and would fain protract the time that must inevitablybring on the final catastrophe. Yes, dearest Margaret, I rest and dwellon the events of that journey, marked as it was by fatigue and danger,though the road lay through the wildest and most desolate deserts andmountains, and though our companions, both men and women, were fierceand lawless themselves, and exposed to the most merciless retaliationfrom those with whom they were constantly engaged--yet would I ratherdwell on these hazardous events than tell that which awaited me at SaintJean de Luz."
"But you arrived there in safety?" said Margaret.
"Yes, maiden," replied the Lady Hermione; "and were guided by the chiefof our outlawed band to the house which had been assigned for reception,with the same punctilious accuracy with which he would have delivered abale of uncustomed goods to a correspondent. I was told a gentlemanhad expected me for two days--I rushed into the apartment, and, whenI expected to embrace my husband--I found myself in the arms of hisfriend!"
"The villain!" exclaimed Margaret, whose anxiety had, in spite ofherself, been a moment suspended by the narrative of the lady.
"Yes," replied Hermione, calmly, though her voice somewhat faltered, "itis the name that best--that well befits him. He, Margaret, for whom Ihad sacrificed all--whose love and whose memory were dearer to me thanmy freedom, when I was in the convent--than my life, when I was on myperilous journey--had taken his measures to shake me off, and transferme, as a privileged wanton, to the protection of his libertinefriend. At first the stranger laughed at my tears and my agony, as thehysterical passion of a deluded and overreached wanton, or the wilyaffection of a courtezan. My claim of marriage he laughed at, assuringme he knew it was a mere farce required by me, and submitted to by hisfriend, to save some reserve of delicacy; and expressed his surprisethat I should consider in any other light a ceremony which could bevalid neither in Spain nor England, and insultingly offered to removemy scruples, by renewing such a union with me himself. My exclamationsbrought Monna Paula to my aid--she was not, indeed, far distant, for shehad expected some such scene."
"Good heaven!" said Margaret, "was she a confidant of your basehusband?"
"No," answered Hermione, "do her not that injustice. It was herpersevering inquiries that discovered the place of my confinement--itwas she who gave the information to my husband, and who remarked eventhen that the news was so much more interesting to his friend than tohim, that she suspected, from an early period, it was the purpose of thevillain to shake me off. On the journey, her suspicions were confirmed.She had heard him remark to his companion, with a cold sarcasticsneer, the total change which my prison and my illness had made on mycomplexion; and she had heard the other reply, that the defect might becured by a touch of Spanish red. This, and other circumstances, havingprepared her for such treachery, Monna Paula now entered, completelypossessed of herself, and prepared to support me. Her calmrepresentations went farther with the stranger than the expressions ofmy despair. If he did not entirely believe our tale, he at leastacted the part of a man of honour, who would not intrude himselfon defenceless females, whatever was their character; desisted frompersecuting us with his presence; and not only directed Monna Paula howwe should journey to Paris, but furnished her with money for the purposeof our journey. From the capital I wrote to Master Heriot, my father'smost trusted correspondent; he came instantly to Paris on receivingthe letter; and--But here comes Monna Paula, with more than the sum youdesired. Take it, my dearest maiden--serve this youth if you will. But,O Margaret, look for no gratitude in return!"
The Lady Hermione took the bag of gold from her attendant, and gave itto her young friend, who threw herself into her arms, kissed her onboth the pale cheeks, over which the sorrows so newly awakened byher narrative had drawn many tears, then sprung up, wiped her ownoverflowing eyes, and left the Foljambe apartments with a hasty andresolved step.