Sweet Thyrza, waking as in sleep, Then turned from earth its tender beam. But he who through life's dreary way, Must pass when Heaven is veiled in wrath, LD. BYRON. THE pale haggardness of Rathallan's countenance, when Waldegrave rejoined him, was very striking. He was leaning over the bank, apparently watching Waldegrave's ascent, and as if impatient of this very short delay. "Now they are safe, we may dismiss these good fellows," said Rathallan; and giving them money, the men bowed and departed for their respective abodes. "I have something of importance to communicate to you, Mr. Waldegrave," continued he; "but first let me ask how you could have heard a report of danger?" After much embarrassment, and some evasive answers, Waldegrave was induced to confess what he had heard on the former night, and by what means. Rathallan fixed the most steady and penetrating glance on him, " and is that all you heard?" "Every word, upon my honour." "And how can you account for my saying that I had done that which would ruin my friends, and the man whom Montara most hated." “That man must be Edgar, of course," said Waldegrave; "who is, I trust, out of his reach. The language you held, I imagined was to lull Montara's suspicions, in order more effectually to undermine his machinations." "Precisely so, Mr. Waldegrave," said Rathallan; "if 'tis one's curse to live among villains, one must put on the visage of the times-look like them-or become their victim. "Tis a hard alternative, but could you know the atrocity of Montara's designs-the intensity of his wickedness-you would marvel that I refrain from dealing him the knife which in self-defence I wear." "His scheme then was to carry off Constance." "Ah, you guess not the depth of his hypocrisy and villany," said Rathallan ; "his love for Constance is all a counterfeit, a ruse; 'tis Miss Vivian whom he loves. To execute his black designs on her, he imposes on you by an apparent devotion to Constance, deceiving all but myself and the Miss Vivians." "Is it possible?" said Waldegrave, shuddering."Then it was Edith whom he intended to carry off.” "It was indeed Miss Vivian," said Rathallan. "He must be a deep dissembler," said Waldegrave, “for though an early prejudice against him has led me to observe him more than most men, yet I must confess that he has acted his part most completely--irresistibly. I never doubted but that he loved Constance." "Oh, there is no little artifice that he has not pressed into his service to impose on others." "And do you say that my cousins have seen through him?" "Yes," said Rathallan ; "he is more courteous in private to Miss Vivian than in public, and the reverse to her sister." "But what steps have you taken?" asked Waldegrave earnestly. "I will acquaint you with every thing," said Rathallan; "but, first as time is infinitely precious, let me ask if Miss Vivian has made disclosures to you respecting the Waldenburgs?" "Not a word," said Waldegrave. "Nor about Villanza ?" "Not a word about any thing;" said Waldegrave. "Well then," said Rathallan, "you know, I suppose, that Villanza is carrying on a secret commerce with the Carbonari, that he is endeavouring, by fomenting the present discontents, to organize a band of insurgents, with which he hopes to shake the empire of Milan to its foundation. It is a wild project; the time is passed for such adventures; but there are enough of wild heads among the Milanese to be turned by the maddest scheme, where the watch-word is liberty. The Waldenburgs are fictitious Germans, who are secretly aiding Villanza's negotiations. Miss Vivian, I grieve to say, has been his most zealous partisan for two years; her enthusiasm (forgive the word, this is no time for mystery) for this young man has bound her whole soul to his visionary hopes, already augmented by the largesses of her devoted fortune. I know not in what schemes her infatuation may not have involved her. Lord Forrester has a splendid income: one half would have been settled on Miss Vivian. Oh! Mr. Waldegrave, she would have married him, to sacrifice both to this mad cause. She is as my sister; I grieve to see her Villanza's, but 'tis better so than if she wore Forrester's name." Here Rathallan, who appeared strongly affected, paused for a moment, then proceeded, "I remonstrated with her; I urged her to give up this unhappy connexion, in vain. Through me, Lord Forrester was at length apprized of her attachment to the Duke, which he had already suspected; she now looks on me as her bitterest enemy. I know not whether I have done right or wrong, but I know that sleep has fled my eyelids, since I have looked on that pale countenance, and thought on its former bloom. Montara began his career by offering me an immense bribe, if I would use my influence with Miss Vivian's family to bring about his marriage. In the height of my indignation I had well nigh become his victim. Experience, however, taught me that if I wished to save Miss Vivian, I must make a compromise with those feelings that rose against my cooler judgment. I gently represented to your relations, that Montara's principles were such as to render intimacy with him highly improper; but they seemed more inclined to shut their eyes than their doors to his failings. Seeing the utter futility of every attempt to produce an impression on your friends, and dreading the effect of Montara's fierce determination, I was compelled to sign the bloody compact with him, and thus I have been enabled to frustrate a thousand schemes of villany, the least of which would have been your cousin's death blow. I have long considered her connexion with the Waldenburgs as highly dangerous, and have trembled, lest Miss Vivian should be at last wrecked on that rock; but to have denounced those unfortunate people were base. "Montara, however, whose impetuosity to get rid of Villanza knew no bounds, sent information to Milan of their real name, with the intelligence that Villanza (who was mentioned as the man he most hated) was their agent. He was ignorant that I knew the fact which Ruggiero told me yesterday evening, when I remained behind with him. I lost not a moment's time in giving them warning; and, while we were engaged in that conversation which you overheard, they crossed the frontiers in peasant garbs, and are now in Switzerland-all but Villanza, who swore that he would not depart till he had taken a last farewell of Miss Vivian, whom I fear he intends shortly visiting in disguise; but I pray that he may think better of it, as such an enterprise would be replete with danger for both.” "And what is that interview proposed between Montara and Ruggiero likely to bring about?" "It will gain time, I trust, for Villanza to get off." "Is this Ruggiero, then, a creature of Montara's ?" asked Waldegrave. cuse. "He was,” replied Rathallan," but thinking his services ill requited, I believe, he now owes him a grudge; for which, however, as you heard last night, Montara is prepared.— But now, Mr. Waldegrave, it is time that I should make my request, for which this anxious time must plead my exHere is a letter to the Commandant of Como, who is a particular friend of mine; and, though an Austrian, he would not desert us in extremity. In this I have explained to him precisely the situation in which the Vivians stand with regard to this exiled family, allied only in friendship, not in politics. Of course, I pass over Miss Vivian's connexion with them, which may be considered merely as the caprice of a very young person. This will, I trust, prevent the unpleasant consequences of their escape, which might otherwise place Sir Ralph in an awkward predicament; but I commit this to no one but you, for Montara intercepts all letters that pass between Como and Blevio, and I consider no messenger safe. The Marchese would rejoice to show his hospitable friend the inside of a dungeon, that he might make his own terms with Miss Vivian. I must remain on the spot, to take precautions against the worst." Waldegrave readily undertook to be Rathallan's ambassador; supplicated him not to let Edith out of his sight; and then, as the necessity of expedition was urgent, they separated immediately, and Waldegrave set out on foot for Como. "Farewell, Edith !" thought he; "I have lived to know you are another's, and yet not to love you less. It had been my utmust joy and pride to call you mine ; and my final adieu to that hope is blended with the fervent prayers of my soul for your welfare. What could Rathallan's mysterious words have imported, concerning your marriage with Forrester, and your compact with Villanza? Edith deluded, enthusiastic girl! Yet will I never believe aught that reflects dishonour on you. In his association with guilt, Rathallan's mind is so harassed that he knows not what he does; he feels and sees evil that does not exist yet he has been a real friend to all." "It is strange," thought Waldegrave, quickening his pace, as his mind involuntarily returned to the days of his first acquaintance with Edith, when he fondly flattered himself that his affection was repaid; "it is strange that in this instance only, where I have been deceived, facts that I now look back upon do not bear out the present evidence. Her heart seemed free as air when first we met--but it was not; she never seemed to love Villanza--so it has not turned out. I fancied once that she loved mee-but that was the most visionary idea of all; and when I remember the hours we spent together, knowing all that I do know, I cannot now see the most trivial circumstance to confirm what is established beyond a doubt. Not so of Montara: the energy with which he advised me to hasten to the neighbouring lakes, after my long gaze on the boat which held Edith, now speaks volumes. The bitter looks he often cast on Forrester and me--the feeling he displayed when Edith sang --I thought it was for her sister's sake-the earnestness with which he sought to tear her from Larno's burning house --Ha! a horrible suspicion crosses me-thank Heaven he was baffled. In Lady Hermione I can recall thousands of words and looks which but for my infatuated credulity, might have revealed her genuine character to me. But Edith, though shrouded by the darkest mists, still shines through them like the unchanging sun; and, angel as thou art, I have lost thee for ever--heard for the last time that heavenly voice, -never, never shall I gaze on those blue eyes again.” He dashed away the burning tears; but while he thus reviewed his happier life, the dreary desert of his future existence bade him cling closer to the cherished scenes over which time must so soon shed the hue of distance. |