la
CLARA FANE;
OB,
THE CONTRASTS OF A LIFE
BY LOUISA STUART COSTELLO,
AUTHOR OF "THE ROSE GAKDEX OF PERSIA, "MEMOIRS OP JAC&1TES
COEUR," "THE QUEEN MOTHER," ETC.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
LONDON :
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1848.
LONDON :
W. OSTELL, PRINTER, HART STREET, BLOOMSBURY SQUARE : AND
BURLINGTON MEWS, REGENT STREET.
CI.ARA FANE.
CHAPTER I.
- Your sorrow was so sore laid on,
^Vhich sixteen winters cannot blow away.
Winter's Tale.
THE travellers had finished their exploring visits
at Ratisbon, and had visited the fine Temple of
the Danube, which the pedantic King of Bavaria,
the pedagogue of monarchs, has called Walhalla,
where all the great men of Germany who are in
favour, and whose opinions did not happen to
offend the powers that were, are placed in marble,
some of them receiving additional immortality
through the graver of Schwanthaler, the first
genius of his age and country.
The day on which they had driven to this
magnificent spot was exceedingly sultry, and on
their return to Ratisbon, Sir Auselm, who had
VOL. III. B
2 CLARA FANE.
exposed himself too much to the sun, felt ex-
tremely unwell. His illness increased in the
night, and the next morning it was found that he
was seized with fever, which a physician, who was
called in, pronounced to be infectious.
The terror of Lady Seymour, on hearing this
intelligence, knew no bounds. She was always
particularly sensitive to infection ; she was always
persuaded she should die of fever; her nerves
could not support the sight of suffering ; in fact,
she found it absolutely necessary that her depar-
ture should instantly take place. She would wait
on the banks of the Danube till the invalid was
restored to health; she would linger at Passau
till he joined her; for she dreaded lest her re-
maining should agitate him.
" But," exclaimed Clara, to whom she ex-
pressed these feelings, " you will not leave your
nieces behind, exposed to the chance of being
attacked with this malady also ? Let me entreat
you to take them with you ; let Mr. Clark be
your escort, and I will remain here to nurse Sir
Anselm, and as soon as he recovers, which I trust
will be the case, I will hasten to rejoin you."
Lady Seymour could not decently decline this
duty ; she, therefore, undertook it with the best
grace she could, and, greatly to the distress of
the young ladies, and amidst their tears and ex-
CLARA FANE. 3
postulations, they were obliged to consent to
accompany her.
" You will catch the fever and perhaps'flig"-! "
cried Sybilla, sobbing on her neck ; " oh, don't
send us away !"
" I have no fear of infection/' said Clara,
" and feel sure I shall escape. You would not
have me leave dear Sir Anselm to strangers ?
M. Ludwig will remain here, and can go back-
warks and forwards to you, if it is requisite to
give you news of how we proceed. A few days'
quiet will probably restore him, but there is
danger now, and he must be carefully attended
to."
It was accordingly arranged as she had sug-
gested, and Lady Seymour and her charges em-
barked on board a steamer on the Danube for
Pas sau.
The student had wandered away from them at
Walhalla and had not returned the next day till
after their party had been thus separated : great,
therefore, was his astonishment on entering
the hotel to hear of what had happened. His
first care was to hasten to the couch of the sick
man, where he found Clara occupied in attending
to him according to the directions of the physi-
cian.
To her surprise Ludwig instantly took upon
B 2
4 CLARA FANE.
himself the treatment of the patient, ordering
remedies with a promptitude and energy, which
she could not but consider startling in one whose
profession was not that of medicine. "When the
physician, however, paid his visit, a few hours
afterwards, she found that he was not only satis-
fied but appeared anxious to profit by a consulta-
tion with him.
" You need not be surprised, madam/ ' said
Ludwig, " that I act as if professional ; I have
studied medicine, and have passed much of my
time in hospitals endeavouring to make myself
master of secrets which may benefit mankind
the noblest study to which the powers of the
mind can be directed."
" It is indeed providential that you should
have done so and be here to assist us at this
moment," said Clara ; " your friendship for Sir
Anselm, I feel sure, makes my entreaties needless
that you will instruct and employ me/'
"You must absent yourself," said Ludwig,
"there is danger of infection."
" Nothing will induce me to do so," said
Clara, firmly ; " I have sent away those to whom
I owed my first consideration, and this is my post
until dangre is over."
Ludwig looked at her as she spoke with, an
expression such as she had once seen before it '
CLARA FANE. 5
startled her as it had done then, she knew not
why.
" Remain then/' said he, " and aid me to
restore the best friend and the most valuable
being that ever drew breath."
Sir Anselm's fever increased hourly, and at
night he was in a state of delirium, quite uncon-
scious of his position, and knowing no one around
him. While in this state, he uttered exclama-
tions as if recalling by-gone years, and would
gaze on her, catch her hand, and call her by en-
dearing names
"Agnes angel Agnes \" he exclaimed, "why
have you staid so long away ? I have waited for
you many years, and no spirit from the dead
came to bring me news of you or our child for-
give me ! Ha ! the waves are high ! the storm is
up ! they cannot live in such a sea ! there is no
hope why did I trust her to such danger ! but
he is with her do not fear ! Domingo knows
the currents well he can swim through anything
see how he peers into the waters he can see
the bottom with those piercing eyes she lies
there, and he made a bed of the salt weed for her
cradle to rest on.
" Edmond 1" he would suddenly exclaim, " why
has he deserted me ? I loved him like a son, and
he leaves me. here fo die Look ! how she fades
6 CLARA FANE.
away ! I saw her first by the light of the stars,
but they shine through her shadow tell her to
come again. Bermuda lies in a boundless sea,
and there are shoals and rocks on the coast, but
we shall reach it give me an oar it only wants
courage. Edmond ! help ! why do you linger
I reckoned on you."
While he continued thus to rave, Clara stood
watching and soothing him with anxioiis terror
which was shared by Ludwig, who, at length, in-
sisted on her leaving the sick chamber and allow-
ing him to remain.
" The sight of you appears to me to agitate
him," said he, " he has some recollections which
perhaps it revives."
Clara could no longer, on this, refuse to obey,
and retired to the next room ready to be called
at any moment. She had left the door of the
adjoining chamber ajar so as to be enabled to
hear in case of the patient requiring her services,
and, by degrees, she lost the sound of his inco-
herent exclamations, which became subdued into
a quiet murmur, and, at length, silence ensued.
She approached the chamber door softly, and
found that he slept; Ludwig was seated close
beside his pillow, his head resting on his hand
and his face turned towards Sir Anselm, in an
attitude of attentive watchfulness.
CLARA FANE. 7
She retired noiselessly, convinced that he had
a nurse whose zeal was at least equal to her own.
" This young man/' thought she, " is a sin-
gular character ; he is at times harsh and almost
unfeeling in his expressions, yet his actions accord
but little with his words. His gratitude appears
altogether disinterested and sincere, and he must
have a good heart and be but little selfish ; for he
is ready to devote himself entirely to the man he
considers his benefactor."
She sat down in an arm-chair near a window,
which looked out towards the square called Heide
Platz. The moonlight shone brilliantly on the
fountain in the centre, and on the battlements of
a gigantic tower at the further corner, which cast
a long deep shadow far over the ground. All
was calm and quiet and hushed without, and
there seemed peace in the cloudless sky and the
full clear moon, which looked down on the antique
city so often the prey of war and desolation for
centuries succeeding each other, which once sent
up to Heaven the prayers of devout crusaders
proceeding to the Holy Land, and which in its
hideous dungeons acted deeds to
" Make the angels weep."
" Here," thought Clara, " men bent on show-
ing honour to the great author of true religion,
8 CLARA FANE.
embarked on the glorious river which was to bear
them onward to their sacred destination was it
piety or selfishness which impelled them to the
undertaking? was it fear for themselves or grati-
tude to God that made them buckle on their
armour to fight the good fight? Who can pronounce
on human motives ! and who can understand why
men endowed with knowledge, full of zeal, piety and
humility to outward seeming, should take delight
in subjecting their fellow creatures to the most ex-
cruciating tortures professing to know that God
desired and decreed such to be the case : in the
very face of a doctrine which forbids even a thought
of cruelty, which enjoins forgiveness, humanity,
and above all tolerance, that other word for charity?
Those hideous iron spikes, those frightful torture
beds, those chairs and screws and chains and nails,
for which this old city is infamous, are almost
unrusted by time ; invented by human creatures
for torture, used by human creatures on their
kind, and looked upon not only with complacency
but a sense of virtue and merit, while applied to
lascerate and torment beings whom God had
ordered man to love and cherish as his brother !
" Alas ! we look on these torture chambers
now with shuddering, we inveigh against the
cruelty and bigotry of the times of old ; but I fear
there is no sectarian who has not a torture cham-
CLARA FANE. 9
her and fierce instruments to rack his fellow iu
the recesses of his own heart, which he uses
morally to destroy and lascerate those who differ
from his creed, although he has but just laid down
the volume forbidding to man even his natural
anger and wish to defend, or to revenge the
greatest of all outrages, when the Saviour himself
was being dragged away to execution.
" In the place of the meekness, the humility,
the indulgence, the long suffering, the love and
peace, which is our religion, have we not strife
and cruelty, dissention, anger, vengeance, pride,
contempt and hatred ? What records of weak-
ness, of tyranny, of oppression, of folly, does not
every old city present ! In this very square, what
striving and violence for mastery in the days of
old whatever may be the truth of the tradition of
this city of the tyrant Giant Craco and the valiant
citizen, who fought and conquered him, some wrong
was probably to be righted which required the
strong hand.
" In this hotel, formerly a palace, they say was
born that famous Don John of Austria, who
owed his birth to frailty and whose existence was
a stain on his parents, in spite of his valour and
virtues ; while the virtuous resistance of the un-
fortunate Agnes Bernauer, another Agnes de
Castro an unlucky name it would seem, and one
B s
10 CLARA FANE.
evidently connected with poor Sir Anselm's sad
memories caused her violent death. Her prince
lover esteemed her too much to disgrace her, but
by making her his wife he sealed her doom the
waters of the Danube rolled over her sorrows but
could not quench the despair of her husband
thence followed unnatural wars, thoughts of par-
ricide struggles against power and the destruc-
tion of hosts of innocent persons to make a tale
of love, which, had it been successful, would have
perhaps ended as fatally for its objects. Better
die so for one beloved than live to see a cold
change creep over the warm feelings, which once
gave life and energy to affection."
"While she mused thus she heard the faint
voice of the patient, and hurried instantly into
the room.
Sir Anselm had waked refreshed, and though
his mind still slightly wandered his fever was
much abated. He looked at her with recognition
and pressing her hand as she smoothed his pillow,
said
"My gentle nurse, teil Edmond Loftus to
come now, you have watched long enough."
" He is not here/' said Clara, trembling at the
name in spite of herself. She looked round but
the student was no longer in the room, he had
quitted it as she entered.
CLARA FANE. 11
" Go," continued the invalid, " I am not quite
clear in my brain yet you still look like Agnes
yet you are not she. Where is he gone ?"
"The Herr Ludwig has been sitting by you
till this moment," said Clara, gently, " shall I call
him ?"
" Presently," said he. " Miss Fane," he con-
tinued, gazing at her, "you have something to
forgive, promise me to be indulgent."
Clara thought of the subject of her late reverie
and answered
" I believe you to be mistaken, dear Sir An-
selm ; but if it should not be so, I am ready to
forgive any wrong intended me."
Sir Ansel m, still holding her hand, relapsed
into quiet slumber, and Clara remained at her
accustomed post for some time, till the arrival of
the physician obliged her to go to the other room
to prevent his entrance disturbing the patient.
When he fouud that Sir Anselm slept he de-
sired that he should not be disturbed, and saying
that he would defer seeing him, departed.
Clara was seated near the door to watch for
his re-awaking, when Ludwig suddenly entered :
having returned from consulting the doctor he
did not observe Clara and sitting down at a table
near the window, unfolded a newspaper, which he
began to read. Presently he uttered an excla-
12 CLARA FANE.
mation in English, and Clara, looking towards him,
saw that he had dropped the paper, one hand was
clasped on his forehead and he sunk back on his
chair as if in pain.
" Good God !" he uttered, " poor Wybrow !"
The tone, the accent, the manner, were not
to be disputed she could no longer doubt that
Edmond Loftus was before her. An involuntary
cry escaped her, and the student, looking round,
saw that he was not alone. He rose, approached
her, and, taking her hand, led her to the table
" Miss Fane," said he, no longer speaking in
a language not his own, "in the presence of sick-
ness and of death concealment and deception are
in vain read that announcement in the list of
death."
Clara seized the paper and read as follows
" On the 1st, in Poland Street, died Maria
Spiccr, of rapid decline, to the grief of her
widowed mother."
She read and re-read the paragraph, uttered
no word of exclamation, but stood transfixed with
astonishment and sorrow. Meanwhile Mr Loftus
had covered his face with his hands, and leant
on the table overcome with anguish which he
could not repress. Clara looked at him with
feelings of mixed characterdifficult to define.
CLARA FANE. 13
Compassion, however, predominated over every
other; his strong friendship for the unfortunate
young man, in whose fortunes he took such in-
terest, his carelessness of self, and his absorbing
anxieties for others, showed themselves so plainly
at this very moment that she could not listen to
the resentment which had at first risen to her
heart.
"Yet he betrayed Maria's friend yet he
would injure or deceive me!" This reflection
was hushed as she marked the tears which gushed
through his fingers and saw his body trembling
with emotion.
"Mr. Loftus," she said, gently, laying her
hand on his arm, " let me entreat you to be calm ;
it is not for us to mourn ; alas ! would we could
offer comfort where it is needed."
He looked up and saw how pale she was as
she stood bending over him with her eyes full of
compassion and tenderness.
" Clara," he exclaimed, seizing her hands with
sudden vehemence, " say you can love me ! You
can pity others you can pity me even in my sor-
row. You are an angel of goodness and gentle-
ness, and most unworthy as 1 am of you, I hope
all from your indulgence ; I am overwhelmed with
grief for the best of friends; my heart is torn
with anguish at the sorrows of another ; do not
14 CLARA FANE.
add to my tortures by your severity do not be
cold and proud with me now I am humbled before
you!"
" Mr. Loftus," she replied, bursting into tears
and sinking in a chair, while he continued to hold
her hands, "you are not generous you are not
just; you think of the feelings of all but me, and
you ask me to exercise towards you more than
mortal forbearance. I feel as you do this sad
blow; Maria's mind and heart were worthy of
one who acted honourably, nobly, and tenderly
towards her, who never allowed a thought of in-
jury to her to have place in his brain, and who
was beloved by the gentlest and most innocent
creature in the world as he deserved. Ask
yourself if you deserve anything of me but what
you call severity ; but we are in the presence of
sacred suffering, our petty wrongs and sorrows
are nothing at such a moment : speak to me no
more now I cannot bear it."
" Say you forgive me ! say you will hear my
explanation, Clara ! " cried Loftus, in an imploring
tone.
" I forgive you as regards myself," replied
Clara.
"What reservation is this?" cried he, pas-
sionately, "I do not understand you let your
forgiveness be unconditional ! "
CLARA FANE. 15
The voice of Sir Anselm at this moment inter-
rupted her answer, which would scarcely have
been in accordance with her former indulgent
words, for the image of the seduced Celia mingled
with the shade of Maria in her mind, and she was
turning from him almost with disgust and fear.
At this sound, however, he instantly relin-
quished her hand, and she flew into the sick
chamber.
Sir Anselm appeared much better, and spoke
with much more coherence
" I seem to have been dreaming of strange
things," said he, smiling, to Clara's great delight,
" I had visions of quarrels, and duels, and carni-
val habits, and friends in false disguises, and you,
always as a spirit of hope and help, amidst them
all."
" There is no longer any disguise/' said Clara,
gently, " let nothing agitate you. Mr. Loftus
and I will continue to nurse you, and we shall
contrive to prove ourselves good doctors in spite
of the little experience of one of us at least."
Sir Anselm kissed the hand of Clara as she
spoke
" I am glad you know all," said he ; " Loftus
has been very obstinate and wilful, but it is his
character, the only blemish in the noblest nature
16 CLARA FANE.
ever bestowed on man. Forgive us both you
are formed only to forgive."
" I forgive you, dear Sir Anselm," said she,
" at least while you are sick and helpless ; our
war can begin at a future moment when you can
defend yourself like the valiant Hun against the
the puny burgher of Ratisbon, who, nevertheless,
got the better because he fought in a right cause.
Get well, and I will have my vengeance yet."
CLARA FANE 17
CHAPTER II.
" Je ne verserai plus de larmes-s-
Mais, helas ! je n'aimerai plus ! "
WHILE Clara was thus occupied in attending to
Sir Anselm, who was now advancing towards re-
covery, she received from Lady Seymour and her
pupils frequent letters, expressing great anxiety
for her and her patient, perfectly sincere on the
part of the young ladies, and in her usual strain
from their aunt, who wrote
" My anxiety almost overcomes me : I dream
of you both every night, when I do sleep, and my
visions represent the saddest pictures of suffering.
Alas ! why did I not remain to assist you to nurse
our worthy and excellent friend ! I sometimes
reproach myself with not having done so, but I
look on the two blooming flowers beside me and
reflect that to stay was dangerous for them, and,
as you know, I tore myself away from the bedside
18 CLARA FANE.
of our friend to devote my energies to the safety
of those darlings confided to my care by their de-
voted father. There are duties, which however
sad, we are called upon to perform, and we must
submit to them even though our hearts are un-
satisfied !
" I am busy teaching the angels to sketch from
nature, and when I am unable myself to go with
them to the spots we prefer, I send poor Clark
who, in my absence, can keep them in practice,
and I correct their errors on their return ; so that,
you see, I have my hands full, yet I can always
find time to write to those dear to me. Do not fail
to let me hear how Sir Ansel m goes on is Lud-
wig of any use ? I fear not ; he is morose aud wants
feeling."
From Claudia and Sybilla, who wrote on the
same page, Clara received the true statement of
facts :
" We get on pretty well with auntie Seymour
that is, without her, for we are not much
troubled with her, for she is always in her room
with her maid either dressing or writing letters,
so we go off with dear old Clark, who draws us
all the pictures we ask for, and we have such
charming walks all over these lovely hills. You
will be delighted when you come, and we will
get dear Sir Anselm up to the top of the hill
CLARA FANE. 19
where the oddest church you ever saw stands, it
is dedicated to St. Maria Hilf and there is a
covered way all up from the town of Passau, after
crossing one of the bridges; this covered way
has no end of stairs but there are a great many
landing places for the pilgrims to rest on seats : so
Sir Anselm can sit down at every hundred yards,
we are so afraid he will be weak, after that horrid
fever ! well, it is so funny to see the hundreds of
wicked people, I suppose they are, who come here
in penance, and some of whom climb up the whole
way on their knees, groaning and moaning
enough to kill one with laughing, because they
seem such hypocrites, and as one passes they stop
in their prayers and ask for groschen, having plenty
of time to think of themselves in the middle of
their sorrow for their sins.
"This is such a famous shrine that people
come hundreds of miles to visit it, and we saw
a procession of peasants arrive there must have
been three or four villages, at least and they
sang psalms and told their beads all the way they
came, making such a noise that we thought there
was a revolution in the town till we found it was
a great time for pilgrims, called St. Maria Him-
melfahrt, and we saw them winding round and
round the hill towards the church ; they did not
come up through the passage as the rest did, and
20 CLARA FANE.
I believe some of the very wicked are obliged to
climb up an old way which is extremely rugged and
broken, and was the only path up till this covered
staircase was cut in the rock, more for the con-
venience of the priests after all, than anybody
else, as it is not much toil and you can rest as
often as you like.
" The view at the top is perfectly enchanting :
there are a great many nice seats under trees and
the penitents, as soon as their prayers are over'
disperse over the hills : we saw them as gay as
possible in their several picnic parties eating
and drinking as if they had come up to enjoy
themselves instead of being only religious; two
young women went into a little arbour near us and
dressed themselves, having got their wardrobe
in bundles ready : they had walked barefooted and
now put on smart blue stockings and black shoes
with bright buckles took off their dark cloaks
and replaced them with embroidered jackets as
fine as you please, and scarlet handkerchiefs. They
came out like butterflies, and set off somewhere
with two young men to dance ; we longed to go
too but Clark looked grave, indeed we thought it
better not, as you were not there to tell us if it
was proper.
" Nothing can be more lovely than these hills,
they are covered with wild thyme and purple
CLARA FANE. 21
heath and such quantities of wild flowers red blue
lilac, yellow, that as far as you can see there is
every sort of bright colour shining in the sun, for
the peasants in their red and green petticoats
bright handkerchiefs and gold caps with those odd
swallow tails behind, look like flowers too, at a
distance, as they come swarming up to the church
by countless paths seeming to cover the whole
mountain.
" Clark says, the women are perfect Rubens ;
they are fair and fat and rosy and so clumsy ! but
certainly handsome, just as those sprawling ladies
Tn Rubens's pictures look it makes poor dear
Clark so angry when we say this, and he vows we
have no taste but then we ask him if it is bad
taste to like Raphael and his mouth is shut at
once. We like so to teaze him ! the costume of
the men here is Hessian boots with tassels, just
like his isn't that odd!
" As you stand on the top of the mountains
you see the three rivers below, on which this
pretty town is built. The green Danube, the
black Iltz and the sparkling white Inn. You can
distinguish each, as they join, by the colour of their
waters.
"A fine fortress, like Ehrenbreitstein, only
more picturesque, crowns an opposite height : the
buildings of the town rise in tiers topped by the
22 CLARA FAtfE.
old cathedral which looks very grand, though it is
new inside and not interesting.
" Every day we take a very long stroll, so that
by the time you come we shall know the whole
country and can be good guides. There is one spot
which we delight in, and I have drawn it under
Clark's directions, who says my sketch is exact,
though a little out of perspective but then the
place is out of perspective and one can't bring it
right. This is the village of Halls on the black
Iltz, which twists itself just here into a figure of
8 and goes to fall into the Danube beneath the
fort of the Oberhaus. The woods of pine, part of
the Bohmer Wald, cover the hills here and come
down to the water's edge, making a dark back
ground for the little compact town, its old castle
and walls and spires.
" The line of mountains following the direction
of the Danube is so grand ! they seem by their
proud elevation to wish you to know which of the
three rivers is the real king.
" We have walked all over the downy hills and
meadows, on the side of the fort of Oberhaus and
got into the fort itself, to the great amusement of
the sentinels. An officer, a very handsome young
man, I assure you, came forward and offered to
show us the meeting of the three rivers from a
tower we followed him, and only imagine, his
CLARA FANE. 23
taking us into a hospital, where sick soldiers were
in bed ! he said they had no fevers, so we need
not mind, but Clark made a fuss and we had only
time to run to the window and see the fine view,
which is glorious. We did not tell auntie Sey-
mour, who would have been frightened to death.
" The young officer insisted on going with us
down the rocky way into the town I thought he
was a little like Lord Clairmont, but not near so
handsome though gentleman-like. It is such a curi-
ous walk by the side and under enormous rocks
that form part of the castle. We crossed a pretty
bridge to the Iltzstadt and then he put us into a
ferry boat, and we had a long row to the opposite
side to our inn at Passau.
" 1 think the young officer is quite struck with
us ; he stood on the shore, bowing and waving his
hat till we were out of sight, and we have seen
him since in the town. Sybilla says she should
like to marry a foreigner I do not intend to no-
tice any of them.
"Pray, beg Sir Anselm to make haste and
come to us, we have so much to tell you both."
The spirits of Clara were greatly depressed by
the sad news of Maria's early death, which had
followed so soon after the receipt of her letter.
The entire destruction of the happy anticipations
of her young lover was mournful to contemplate,
24 CLARA FANE.
and the bereavement to poor Mrs. Spicer, she
knew, would be a heavy blow, from which it was
scarcely likely she would ever recover, for her
daughter was the sole object to which all her cares
pointed, and for whom she entertained an un-
bounded attachment, which had become a second
nature to her.
" How little time have we in this world,"
thought Clara, " to plan or to hope ! scarcely are
our visions formed before they fleet away scarcely
have we looked upon a rising star before some
dark cloud shrouds its light. It is not in this
sphere that happiness is to be found, even for a
brief space. "
Her reflections respecting Mr. Loftus were
also very uneasy, but instead of avoiding him as
before she met him now with perfect calmness, and
it was in the presence of Sir Anselm, now
recovered enough to leave his room, that she re-
solved to express to him her sentiments respecting
his conduct.
He had not laid aside his disguise, which she
had feared he would do and thus create curiosity
amongst the servants; but she was resolved not to
permit him to continue longer under the same
circumstances with her.
Accordingly, when they were all together, on the
last day that they proposed to remain at Katisbon,
CLARA FANE. 25
as she sat by the side of Sir Anselm, and Mr.
Loftus was pacing the room rather uneasily, she
summoned courage and addressed him.
" Sir Anselm," she said, " I have given you
proof that I esteem you most highly, and I feel
convinced that you regard me with interest and
friendship. I am, as you know, friendless, and
the more prone probably to cling to the kindness
of others. I appeal to you, therefore, for a deci-
sion. Mr. Loftus has thought proper to follow
the path we have taken, in a borrowed character ;
I have no doubt he imitates the real student Lud-
\vig, who probably exists, as well as he formerly
did Mr. Clark ; but I cannot think it edifying to
Mr. Luttrel's daughters, who are under ray care,
to discover their old friend in such a disguise. I
cannot think it just to myself to permit this
travesty to continue, and I request that you will
represent to Mr. Loftus the impropriety of his
accompanying us further on our journey."
Mr. Loftus stopped suddenly in his walk and
stood before them.
" Did Miss Fane suppose," said he, " that I
proposed to intrude myself further ? could she
think that I had any wish to incur her additional
contempt, having already earned it sufficiently.
I intend to start to-morrow for Munich on my
way to the Tyrol, with no view, whatever, of com-
VOL. III. C
26 CLARA FANE.
ing in contact with those I have so much dis-
pleased for sometime."
' ' Edmond," said Sir Anselm, ' ( both you and
I owe Miss Fane much apology you for assuming
a disguise to deceive her, I for consenting to your
doing so. For the sake of the friendship which
she does me the honour of believing in, I conjure
her to forgive us both."
" You know/' said Clara smiling, " that I for-
gave you when you were sick to a certain extent,
and as I also promised Mr. Loffcus to excuse what
has passed, I do not meditate any other course.
But I wish to prevent, if there is yet time, a repe-
tition of the annoyance which beset me in Derby-
shire, in the remarks of persons who concluded
that I had encouraged the caprice of Mr. Loftus.
I have suffered from suspicions which he knows
to be false j they have even subjected me to in-
sult from the father of my pupils, and I could not
support more ! "
" Insult from Luttrel ! " exclaimed Mr. Loftus,
" and I the cause ! But you knew him before ;
you are a friend of it matters not, he told me
you were old acquaintances."
" Mr. Luttrel was unknown to me till I en-
tered his family/' replied Clara, calmly, " I had
seen him before, when he accosted me in the
street without knowing who I was ; I am a friend
CLARA FANE. 27
of no person connected with him who is not
known to you and to Sir Anselm. I owe you no
explanation, nor should I give even this if it were
not to end, at once, all controversy. Since you
are about to leave us there is no occasion for me
to say more, except this that I expect I insist,
that whenever you appear again where I am it
may be without a mask."
She said the last words haughtily and with
firmness as she rose and left the apartment.
" Loftus," said Sir Anselm, " you must obey
her implicitly. I repent having humoured you so
far, and, as you know, I should not have done so
but to prove to you her worth and excellence. I
hope you have now proof of them ; I hope you
see that she is a treasure not to be cast away
that she is the reality of your ideal ."
" But she does not love me ! of that I am
also convinced," said Mr. Loftus passionately ;
' ' cold, calm, proud, and unmoved, she proves to
me that I create no feeling in her heart beyond
indifference."
" Except, it may be, resentment, which is a
step," replied Sir Anselm.
" No, it is contempt," said Loftus, " which I
deserve. I will give her up ; I was a fool to ex-
pect impossibilities to pursue a shade !"
" You are perfectly unreasonable," said Sir
C 2
28 CLARA FANE.
Anselm; you began by imagining you had dis-
covered the gem you sought, and, because it does
not fall into your hand the moment you hold it
forth, you leave off the attempt to obtain it. You
were wrong in your first essay, but doubly wrong
in the last. Did she not show you more regard
when she saw you in your own person ? Appear
to her again as you really are, mistrust her no
more, and she will learn to confide in you. Mean-
time she is henceforth under my protection ; I
look upon her as a child of my own, as I have
long considered you, dear Edmond, wayward as
you are ; you are sure your interests will not suf-
fer in my hands, and when you both meet again
it will be, trust me, under happier aspects. Lut-
trel's character you know, and if he chose, at the
club, that vortex of all scandals, to speak lightly
of this innocent girl, whom I am altogether con-
vinced he did not know, you should have appre-
ciated his remarks as they deserved."
" He told me the girl I saw him walking with
in Grosvenor place, whom I knew to be Clara,
was an old acquaintance, and a friend of Celia's ;
and did I not meet her in the park and see her
exchange salutations with that shameless wo-
man?"
" Rely on it you are deceived/' said Sir An-
selm, "I will ascertain from Clara the truth of
CLARA FANE. 29
the latter accusation ; the first appears to me to
be an evident falsehood. Meantime endeavour to
sober down your too ardent mind to clearer exa-
mination ; you have adopted my motto of
'Trau. Schau. Wem.'
too hastily, without observing the hidden meaning
in these cabalistic words. You translate them
merely
'Examine those you trust.'
My translation is this
J' Join the principle of faith to the exercise of reason in If
order to fix your confidence.' "
" You know how much reason I have had for
distrust, my dear friend," said Loftus, " but I am
willing to subscribe to your arguments I assure
you, and if I cannot banish this mistrust at once
from my heart I will, at least, do my best to over-
come it, and be deceived into happiness. To seek
one with whom I could pass my life amongst the
frivolous women of my own class I have long felt
to be vain : Clara is all I sought, and if her mind
is as fair as I would fain think it, she is my Ideal
still."
The day after this conversation Edmond Lof-
tus departed for the Tyrol, while Sir Anselm
and Clara took their places on board the Danube
steamboat for Passau.
30 CLARA FANE.
CHAPTER III.
'Tis time
I should inform thee further.
Tempest.
SEATED on the deck of the steamer, Clara and
Sir Anselm were soon gliding through the waters
of the rapid Danube, the aspect of which, though
less interesting and exciting than that of the
Rhine, is more solemn and grand, from the solitary
dreariness of its huge forests whose black mantles
cover the mountains that dip their feet in the
waves. Here and there a dilapidated castle, grim
and ghost-like, lifts its ruins above the pines, a
mournful relic of days gone by, unenlivened by
the familiarity of frequent visits, such as have
long invested the Rhine castles with a cheerful
interest.
From Ratisbon to Passau the same solemnity
prevails, soothing in its gravity and pleasing to a
contemplative mind, though less amusing to the
CLARA FANE. 31
ordinary traveller than the banks of the " exulting
river " left behind. There are no green or purple
vines here clinging to the bare and rugged rocks
and clothing them with riches and joy, no lively
towns and smiling villages ; all is melancholy and
deserted, and the voyager can almost fancy he is
sailing along some unknown river by an unknown
shore, and may expect occasionally to see groups of
astonished savages watching the onward motion of
the first seen vessel.
The meeting of those peculiar rafts laden with
timber, and the remarkable barges which are fre-
quent on the Danube, dispels the illusion, and
common life with all its realities returns.
The scene was suited to the mood of both
Clara and her companion, and they contemplated
it for some time in silence, broken at length by
Clara, by a question which revealed the subject of
her thoughts.
" Will you tell me, Sir Anselm," said she,
"the reason for the strange mistrust of others,
which seems to darken the sunshine of Mr. Lof-
tus's mind?"
" You have spoken of that on which I was just
reflecting/' replied Sir Anselm, " I must tell you
his history in order to explain it. Edmond
Loftus was a mere boy when his parents died,
and you have heard from your friends, the Der-
32 CLARA FANE.
rington's, that the tutor who had the charge of
his education was unfitted for the task. He was
full of imagination and sensitiveness, and found
no congenial spirit to answer to his : while abroad
he fell amongst a set of young men who led him
into dissipation, which his good spirit revolted
from; but which he, nevertheless, but feebly
resisted. He became acquainted with women,
more remarkable for beauty and genius than
better qualities, and he formed his estimate of the
female character by such specimens. Unfortu-
nately, he was attracted by one in particular,
artful and seductive, who, for some time, while he
was yet scarcely past boyhood, exercised a power
over him which threatened altogether to destroy
good seeds in his breast, already beginning
to be choked up by the weeds which he mistook
for flowers.
" This woman, worthless, but full of talent,
wit and cunning, drew pictures of her sex more
especially of that part of it of which she had no
knowledge, colouring them from' her own impure
imaginings such as convinced him that to expect
virtue and purity in woman was a chimera. The
artists, with whom he lived, divided their time
between laborious study and frantic dissipation,
and he learnt to separate his life as they did, into
worthy and unworthy pursuits.
CLARA FANE. 33
" His talents are great, his powers extraordi-
nary, his observation rapid, his disposition
generous, he is devoted to genius and places it
too high in the scale, not believing in morality or
prizing it.
" His mind was in this state when chance
threw him in my way at Rome : through the
shroud which covered him I discerned the noble
qualities of his heart, and I resolved to endeavour
to draw him forth from the obscurity of a false
life and to give him back to society.
"Fortunately, I pleased him from the first,
and he would listen to precepts from me which
would have disgusted him from the lips of another;
by degrees I placed before his view the folly and
nothingness of his present state, the degradation
he offered to the very genius he professed to ad-
mire, and the ruin he was bringing on his own
mind by indulging in courses which his better
nature abhorred.
" Above all, and that was the hardest task, I
tried to detach him from the dangerous woman
whose spells had kept him so long in her en-
chanted circle, and by perseverance, mildness and
resolution, I succeeded even in that.
" Then came the change. I knew it would be
violent when it arrived ; he cast from him, with
horror, all that he had formerly prized, he treated
C 3
34 CLARA FANE.
with loathing and contempt, his past pursuits, and
he fled for a time into solitude and gloom. I pur-
sued him there, and joining his retirement I
devoted myself to render it useful to him.
" We travelled together through the wildest
parts of Calabria, we ascended barren mountains,
we exhausted ourselves in journeys on foot, in
painful descents into the bowels of the earth, and
Ave returned to society reasonable creatures. Lof-
tus cured of much of his extravagance and no
longer in extremes.
" Since then he has lived like others, as far as
outward actions go ; but my task is not yet over.
I am sure of his heart and of his mind : I am
satisfied of his morals, and I have awakened a
deep sense of religion in his soul.
"At the same time some portion of his old
prejudices remain, and as, unfortunately, every
day brings to light some fault and weakness in
woman and some crime in man, he still argues
against the probability of his discovering the Ideal
perfection to which his romantic imagination has
devoted itself. This makes him unjust and pre-
vents his inspiring, I fear, those sentiments in
another which he craves to find, and which live
still freshly in his own mind."
" And do men then," said Clara, " expect so
much perfection in the opposite sex, when they
CLARA FANE. 35
not only are aware of the existence, but have run
through every stage of evil themselves ? What
do they bring to deserve exclusive devotion, pure
attachment, self-denying affection ? after a career
of heartless amusement, to which all is sacrificed,
they repent, and imagine that repentance is to
ensure a reward ! "
" They ask it where it is sure to be bestowed/'
said Sir Anselm, " the nature of pure woman is
angelic ; she only pities and forgives she is con-
tent with that repentance and forgets the faults
that called for it."
" You are indulgence itself, Sir Anselm," said
Clara, smiling ; " I scarcely enter into your enthu-
siasm, I think if we are so excellent we deserve
something more than to have dedicated to our
shrine a worn and withered wreath, which has
been flaunting all the gay season amidst revel and
glare, and in an hour of gloom is brought to ns
as an offering as if fresh gathered in the dew of
morning. We have claims, also, we may have
fancies and Ideals too, and why should we, who
according to you are so superior, be placed so far
below our votaries, that we must be content to
accept with humility whatever they may be pleased
to offer ?"
" Superior natures are ever indulgent," re-
plied Sir Anselm ; " they can afford to look down
36 CLARA FANE.
calmly on the weakness of others, being without
blame themselves. To imitate, as much as possi-
ble, the nature of the great Creator, is to approach
him the nearer. He is not as some of the ancients
have represented him a being who, seated above
all the world, is alone in unapproachable felicity ;
too great and glorious to busy himself with things
of this earth : without movement towards his crea-
tures of clay, that would destroy his grandeur
impassible and indifferent alike to the good and evil
actions of the insignificant beings beneath his foot-
stool. On the contrary, He is all tenderness to-
wards those whom his breath has bade to live :
there is a tie of love which unites the Creator and
the creature. He is Charity. This is the differ-
ence between the God of Pagans and of Christ-
ians the one was too high for love, the other is
love itself. But as f he chasteneth those he loveth/
so we must temper our indulgence to the nature
and the faults of our kind, and be severe only to
show more kindness. There is no man too bad
to be reclaimed, and no woman who could not
reclaim him."
" I am ready," said Clara, hesitating, " to be-
lieve all the good you attribute to Mr. Loftus,
but there is a circumstance relative to his con-
duct which scarcely agrees with what you tell me
of the entire reform in his morals. My interest-
CLAKA FANE. 37
ing friend, Maria, whose loss I have now to de-
plore, told me a strange history, which I fear
pointed to no other than Mr. Loftus."
"What can you mean?" said Sir Anselm.
" I am convinced some misapprehension has in-
jured him in your esteem."
" You know/' said Clara, " that although I was
mistaken about Mr. Clark on a late occasion, I
had too much reason to know that he was in the
habit of assuming that character, and under that
name I understood he had been the cause of a
young girl, who was known to Maria from child-
hood and who lived in her neighbourhood, leaving
her home and covering herself and her friends
with disgrace."
" How is this supposed victim called ?" asked
Sir Anselm.
" Her name is Celia Sawyer," replied Clara ;
" her father is a tradesman in Poland Street,
where Maria's mother lives, and where I lodged
for a time with Mrs. Fowler when I first became
known to you."
Sir Anselm looked grave and concerned as he
answered
" Let me beg you to do justice to Edmond
Loftus as far as relates to this person. He is
entirely innocent. I know on whom the blame
should rest, but I have no right to point him out.
38 CLARA FANE.
Dismiss this suspicion which is altogether as un-
founded as those you entertained respecting Clark
himself. Edmond is incapable of conduct like this,
and even before the change which has been wrought
in him, was, in some sense, ' more sinned against
than sinning.' This Celia was, I fear, always un-
principled, but it is not to him she owed the dis-
grace into which she has now fallen."
Clara's blush and the tear that started to her
eye, told how grateful to her was this assurance.
She remained silent for some time, as did Sir
Anselm, both absorbed in reflection; but the
smile was restored to her face and serenity to his
as the steamer stopped at the little, crowded,
slovenly quay of Passau, which being under re-
pair, apparently not without great necessity, was
strewn with blocks of stone and pieces of timber,
showing the ravages that every winter's ice makes
on these shores, which it requires the snail-like
labour of a summer to repair.
The raptures of Claudia and Sybilla on their
arrival were extreme, and after having assured
herself that there was no fear of infection, Lady
Seymour came from her chamber to welcome
them.
" Oh my dear Sir Anselm," said she, " the
state of my mind has been fearful since this sad
attack. Not a night has passed that my dreams
CLARA FANE. 39
have not represented you dying alas ! I would
have given worlds to see you, to nurse you, and
to prove the esteem I have ever felt for the friend
of my excellent nephew. Would that my nerves
and strength had equalled my zeal."
" Oh," said Sir Anselm, " your sympathy alone
has done wonders, with a little aid from Miss
Fane's presence, and I am now marvellously re-
covered you will see how well I shall bear the
rest of the journey."
" Then you shall see all the beauties we have
discovered here ! " exclaimed the sisters ; " and
we will show you both all our drawings you will
think us so improved. But we are quite tired
even of this beautiful Passau, and want to get on
to the Salzkammergut, where we are to see a
country, Captain Von Altheim says, ten times more
lovely still."
" Altheim 1" exclaimed Sir Anselm ; " who do
you know of that name ?"
" Oh," -said Sybilla, blushing, " we have made
an acquaintance here with an officer who has
been staying at Passau, in this hotel. Auntie
Seymour knows about him."
" Is it the hero of your ramble in the Fort?"
whispered Clara to Claudia.
" Yes," replied she, mysteriously ; " but don't
ask anything of us ask Lady Seymour about him.
40 CLARA FANE.
But what is the matter with dear Sir Anselm ?
how pale he looks !"
Sir Anselm did indeed look agitated, and ap-
peared overcome with some sudden emotion, which
he had difficulty in mastering.
" Is it the Graf von-Altheim an Austrian ?"
asked he of Lady Seymour.
"The same a connexion of your own, Sir
Anselm : he is here on some mission from the
Emperor, and has offered to be our guide in the
mountains. But where have you left Ludwig ?
I do not see him with you?"
" He left us at Ratisbon," said Sir Anselm,
" to pursue his route to several colleges in Bavaria,
having been invited by some of his fellow-students
to do so. We shall, therefore, lose his society for
some time."
" Oh, we shall miss him so \" exclaimed the
sisters.
" Not much, I imagine," said Lady Seymour ;
" he will be well replaced by the Graf von-Altheira,
who is charming don't you think so, Sybilla ?"
"Oh no, that I don't !" cried the young lady,
looking suddenly very blooming ; " he is well
enough but not like Ludwig. I'm so sorry he's
gone."
" Don't believe her, Sir Anselm," said Lady
Seymour ; '" we are sure she is in love with the
CLARA FANE. 41
Graf, who is a perfect Apollo in person, and so
amiable and devoted ; it is quite refreshing to meet
in these wilds with so refined a creature."
" He natters auntie," whispered Claudia, " and
thinks her sketches perfection they are all done
by Clark, which he does not know. It's quite a
romance about him. I will tell you as soon as I
get you to myself. But you won't think him
half as handsome as Lord Clairmont, Fm sure."
42 CLARA FANE.
CHAPTER IV.
Flow on, thou shining river !
Moore.
As soon as Claudia did get her young governess
to herself, she poured forth a whole volume of
news to her attentive ears.
"It is so curious!" she said, "after we had
had that walk I told you of through the Fort of
Oberhaus, we never went out that we did not
meet the young officer. We knew by his white
uniform that he was not a Bavarian, and he looked
much more elegant than any of these men here.
We soon found, through Guilia, that he was in
the Austrian service, and sent here on some mis-
sion : he asked Guilia who we were, and she
told him all about us, and that we were
travelling with Sir Anselm, upon which he called
on auntie, and said he was a sort of nephew of
Sir Anselm's his wife's sister's son I never
knew^the poor dear darling had had a wife at all.
Well, auntie thought him quite perfection, and
told him his relation would soon be here, and he
CLARA FANE. 43
could visit us in the meantime. He seems so fond
of us all, and says Sybilla is a fairy, and an angel,
and a divinity, and I can't tell you what. She
pretends not to care about him, but she is as
pleased as possible, and, though she hated Ger-
man before, is trying all she can to learn it. He
writes verses and gives them to us, and he sings
and plays and is so agreeable."
" But is he really Sir Anselm's nephew ?" said
Clara; " was Sir Anselm's wife a German, then ?"
" I tell you, dearest, I never thought he had
been married; but auntie says his wife died
abroad somewhere, and he can never bear to talk
about it. I dare say that made him turn so pale
when I mentioned the Graf's name. I am so
sorry he has been unhappy, I love him dearly
don't you, darling ?"
Clara did not hesitate to assure her pupil that
she quite agreed with her in affection and esteem
for Sir Anselm, and in regretting that any sorrow
should have interrupted the calm course of his life.
When she met the Graf von-Altheim she was
not surprised at the impression he had made on
the whole party : he possessed that singular grace
of manner which at once wins attention and
favour : his face was handsome and expressive ;
his eyes fine and lively, and his voice musical and
penetrating.
44 CLARA FANE.
Sir Anselm was much prepossessed by his ap-
pearance, and welcomed him with an emotion
which he could scarcely subdue sufficiently to
express his pleasure at their meeting. He learnt
from him that his mother was living in Vienna,
after an absence of some years in Poland, where
his father had died; but that she was now at
Milan, where he was going to join her.
" I shall see her then after an interval, during
which the history of two lives may be reckoned,"
said Sir Anselm. "Does she ever talk of of
me?"
" Frequently," said the young man, evidently
aware that Sir Anselm was endeavouring to con-
ceal some secret feeling ; " and always with an
affectionate hope of meeting you some day again.
Your favourite motto is not forgotten by her. I
wear it on a ring given by her."
Sir Anselm snatched the ring and kissed it
with eagerness, murmuring as he read the motto,
" Trau. schau. wem"
Clara started, and involuntarily looked at her
bracelet : Claudia's eyes followed hers, and she
exclaimed
" Sir Anselm, how like you and Miss Fane are
in everything ! She always wears a bracelet with
your motto, which is odd, for she says you did
not give it her."
CLARA FANE. 45
Sir Anselm looked up, and taking Clara's arm
he read the enamelled letters with surprise.
"What made you choose this motto?" said
he ; " I fancied it was mine exclusively,"
"And I thought it mine/' replied Clara; "the
story attached to these words involves a mystery
which is at all events my own, and which I fear
no one of my friends here could explain."
Sir Anselm dropped her arm and returned the
ring to Altheim, saying
" The day that I meet your mother will be a
happy, yet a sad day for me. I trust it will not
be long delayed, since we are both bound to the
same course. I will leave my charges at Como,
and accompany you to Milan."
Soon after this the party re-embarked on the
Danube, on their way to Linz, Altheim accom-
panying them, only too happy to be the guide of
the rest in their visit to the exquisite country,
which bears the name of the Salzkammergat, and
embraces some of the finest sites in Europe.
The beauty of the Danube may be said to
begin from Passau, and nothing can exceed the
loveliness and variety which the doublings and
windings of the noble river make here : some-
times closely pent between its banks it seems
scarcely disposed to allow a passage for the in-
truding vessel between its solemn woody forests,
46 CLARA FANE.
at others widening into a broad expanse like a
lake, it hurries on through luxuriant woods and
by cheerful villages, whose white buildings, with
here and there a country house, make the shores
gay, and tell of the habitation of man and his
prosperity. Grey ruins succeed and restore the
solemnity which seems more natural to the river,
and the black pines raise their clustering pyra-
mids to the sky fitting companions to the grim
robber-holds, of which a few walls alone tell the
tales of violence once acted within their pre-
cincts.
The Austrian frontier begins in a reef of
rocks rises from the waters and proclaims another
kingdom : a famous monastery once occupied this
site.
While the vessel was stopping to allow the
usual annoying disturbance of custom house ex-
amination to take place, Claudia and Sybilla stood
watching a group of strange figures on the quay,
all eagerly crowding with the hope of a few gros-
chen being thrown to them.
Nothing can exceed the hideous appearance
of these unfortunate creatures : eight or ten
dwarfs, all more or less deformed with goitre,
seemed vying with each other to excite disgust ;
they appeared to have no speech, but short, harsh
cries; some were blind, others lame, all squallid
CLARA FANE. 47
and frightful, and so small that they looked like a
race of pigmies or gnomes started out of some
cave hard by.
" I hope everyone is not so ugly in Austria,"
said Claudia ; " this is a bad beginning to a beau-
tiful country."
" Do not be alarmed," returned Altheim, " if
all our women are not as lovely as the English, at
least our men are not so bad as this specimen
would lead you to believe. I suspect it is a ruse
of the custom house to frighten strangers into
submission to their tyranny. But you will soon
forget this hideous apparition, for we are ap-
proaching one of the finest parts of our glorious
river ; do not compare the Rhine with it, I en-
treat confess that it is infinitely more sublime."
" Oh, how Swiss ! " exclaimed Sybilla, as they
glided past the Castles of Rana Riedl and Mars-
bach, between which opens a cultivated valley
with a village of carved wooden houses, "I should
like to stop and follow that pretty valley to the
end, it is so much more cheerful than these black
pine forests."
"You are all gaiety and sunshine yourself,"
said Altheim, " and however gloomy the scene
you inhabit, there you could make a paradise. I
never thought the Danube gay before."
" You are so gallant," said Lady Seymour,
48 CLARA FANE.
who took the compliment to herself, " one can
see you have studied in Paris."
" Ah ! dear madam/' replied he, " do not
suppose all that pleasures comes from Paris to me
perfection seems to dwell in England but you
still have a prejudice against the Fatherland,
although our nations are so near of kin, while the
little Channel that separates you from France
divides you thousands of miles in spirit from the
fickle, changeable, unstable French. We Ger-
mans are true in love and in friendship, heavy
and cold as we may appear."
" But you are neither heavy nor cold," said
Sybilla, laughing, " I should never take you for a
German."
" There you betray your prejudice again, fair
Englishwoman," said Altheim, " why not ?"
" You are more like an Englishman," returned
she.
"That is indeed an honour when you say it," said
he, bowing, " because it makes me hope I am not
looked upon as a mere barbarian. But see, here is
Hagenbach, now you will be whirled entirely round
the promontory, which seems an island, and you will
imagine you are returning to the spot where you
started ; in days of yore this was really so, for the
spot was enchanted. A lovely lady dwelt in that
castle, who was called, in order, I suppose, to express
CLARA FANE. 49
the gracefulness of her form and the ruddy hue of
her lip and cheek, Kirschbaum, or Cherry tree. The
whole of this hill, then, up to the tower which
she inhabited, was covered with cherrytrees ; but
no one could ever land here, owing to the rapidity
of the current, and, though the cherries were said
to be the most exquisite ever tasted, no one but
those in the castle had ever been able to gather
them. This made every lord of every other castle on
the Danube anxious to obtain cherries from that
orchard ; but in vain they sent vessels and men at
arms in vain they provided themselves with lad-
ders, and cords, and hooks, and grappling irons,
the moment they approached the shore they were
whirled along to the opposite side of the neck of
land and back again, so that their heads became
giddy and they were obliged to push out into the
centre of the stream and give a despairing look
towards the tower, where the beautiful maiden
might be seen walking on her terrace.
" The Count of Schaumberg, whose castle you
will soon come too, was particularly anxious to
obtain some of these cherries, and his son was
infinitely more so to gain a nearer view of the
fair Kirschbaum herself. He therefore undertook
the adventure, resolved that nothing but death
should prevent his accomplishing his design. Do
VOL. in. D
50 CLARA FANE
you hear the roar of the river as we turn this
point of rock ?"
" It is like thunder or the fall of a whole
river over rocks \" cried the sisters.
" This is the entrance into the great defile/'
continued he, " which is the most magnificent you
have entered yet ; our course will be for more than
an hour through this deep solitude, and it was
along this solitary shore that the young count
steered his bark towards the cherry hill. The moon
was very bright, but the precipitous mountains
covered with pines threw so dark a shadow on the
waters that it seemed night there while the sky
above was as clear as day.
" These rocks, which rise in the centre of the
river round which the whirlpools rage and dash
showers of white foam over their jagged peaks,
alone caught the rays of the moon, and it was
on the very summit of the highest that a holy
hermit had built himself a cell, which could only
be approached at certain periods, so violent were
the waters in that spot. The pious were accus-
tomed to bring food for him, which they cast in
baskets at arm's length into a cave in the rock,
where the hermit sought for it; but, he might
sometimes be seen sitting, on a calm day, at the
mouth of this cave eating cherries.
" Now, it was clear that this fruit came from
CLARA FANE. 51
the tower-hill, where the lovely lady resided, and
the young count, who was very curious as well as
pious, resolved to visit the hermit and ascertain,
if possible, from him how he procured these
treasures denied to all others.
" He watched for several nights at the foot of
the rock, till he observed, the moon being then at
the full, that a small space of sand where the eddy
was generally strongest was now apparent, and he
knew that was the time to land and climb the
rock. He hastened to leap to this small footing
of land, and in a few moments was in the presence
of the hermit.
" He was disguised in a pilgrim's dress and
represented himself as just returned from the
Holy Land.
" ( Father/ said he, ( I am charged to deliver
to you a blessed relic from Jerusalem, which I
have brought, and I crave your aid to enable me
to deliver one to a lady who lives in some castle
on this river, but where it is I cannot discover.
She is called Kirschbaum, and the fame of her
beauty and piety has reached the holy city the
High Priest of the Temple, therefore, sends her a
slip of a cherry tree, which grows on the holy
mount, desiring her to plant it in her orchard and
it will bring her good fortune.'
D 2
52 CLARA FANE.
" ' My son/ said the hermit, ' I will undertake
to deliver this precious gift to the lady/
"'That may not be/ said the pilgrim, ( I have
taken an oath to do so myself, and into her hands
alone may I give it/
"'Well then/ said the hermit, 'you must
accompany me to her castle/
" So saying, the hermit removed a stone at the
back of his cave and disclosed a flight of steps,
which they descended, into a vaulted passage.
Above their heads was heard a din, capable of
deafening the ears of a whole multitude, this was
the roar of the river under the bed of which they
were passing, and the young count felt convinced
that they were in a fair way towards the abode of
the lovely lady, as indeed, it proved; for, after
walking for nearly an hour through a thousand
winding ways, impossible to be found but by one
accustomed to the route, they at length issued
forth into the orchard itself and stood before the
gate of the castle, which, at a signal from the
hermit, was presently opened by the lady herself,
who conducted them into her tower.
" When the hermit had related the errand of
the stranger, he entreated to be left for a few mo-
ments alone with the lady, as he could not, in the
presence of a third person, discharge his com-
mission.
CLARA FANE. 53
"The hermit betook himself to his prayers
while the lady led the pilgrim to a higher
chamber.
"What communication passed between them
was never exactly known, but the hermit was
charged to re-conduct the pilgrim, who returned
as he came.
"A few days after this, a gay vessel full of
brilliantly dressed persons was seen sailing along
the Danube from the castle of Schaumberg to the
Cherry-hill where, to the surprise of many within
it, it stopped at the base without difficulty, and
every one was able to land : the river being as
quiet as a lake. The gay party were all provided
with baskets which they instantly began to fill
with the ripe fruit, and in the mean time the
young count had climbed to the tower, whence he
presently re-appeared leading forth the lovely
lady to whom he had just been united by the
hermit, and who accompanied him as his wife to
the Castle of Schaumberg.
" Whether the harvest of the cherry orchard
had depended solely on the lady's will, or whether
she had given the disguised pilgrim a counter
spell to enter her domain remained a secret ; but
from that period both the cherry trees and the
shore are no more unapproachable there than in
any other place, and as the fair Chatelaine resided
54 CLARA FANE.
in her tower no longer, it was allowed to become
the ruin you see it."
" I suppose/' said Sybilla, " there are legends
attached then to every castle here, as well as to
those on the Rhine. What a pity nothing ro-
mantic ever happens to one now ! Perhaps it is
because we do not live in castles."
" Romances happen every day," replied Al-
theim, smiling; "but we do not observe them
when we are actors ourselves. I look upon my
meeting with you as a romance. I will be your
knight and you shall be my lovely lady."
"Very well," said Sybilla, "and I will give
you as many cherries as you can eat that is when
I have a cherry orchard of my own but you
must wait a good while, for the trees are not
planted yet."
"I will wait any period," replied he, "pro-
vided you do not send my boat off into a whirl-
pool at last."
CLARA FANE 55
CHAPTER IV.
I saw thy form in youthful prime,
Nor thought that cold decay,
Would steal before the steps of time,
And waste thy bloom away.
Moore.
IT was while they were passing rapidly through
the finest defile presented by any river in Europe,
where the stream becomes so narrow that, in some
places, the perpendicular rocks appear almost to
meet and wild eddies cover the dark deep waters
with garlands of white foam making the course
appear perilous in, the extreme, that Sir Anselm
and Clara were engaged in deep conversation.
"I owe it to you," said Sir Anselm, "now
that I find that Loftus entertained a prejudice
injurious to you, in consequence of your casual
meeting being in the society of Mrs. Frillet, to
explain who she is and how I happened at that
time to have her with me.
56 CLARA FANE.
" My father when he died had omitted to name
in his will a son, who was born long after a sepa-
ration from my mother, the particulars of which
event I will tell you another time. As this child
was not legitimate he would have been entirely
destitute, but for the generous kindness of my
mother, and when I had the misfortune to lose
her, -I, of course, fulfilled her wishes respecting
him. He had been educated respectably, and
when of a proper age I provided him with means
to send him out to India, he was improvident and
careless, and after a career but little creditable to
himself he died of fever, having most imprudently
married almost directly he arrived and M r ithout
an adequate fortune to support her, a young wo-
man who, like many others, had gone out on
speculation and was entirely without fortune
herself.
" She wrote to me and I did not hesitate to
offer her my protection and assistance soon after
it appears that she made acquaintance with a rich
Indigo planter, who was many years older than
herself, he was caught by her beauty, and for-
getting the disparity of years, made her his wife.
But the marriage turned out extremely ill ; she
discovered that he was a miser and he that she
was a flirt and very extravagant ; he became
dreadfully jealous and she, totally disgusted with
CLARA FANE. 57
him, and in a fit of folly and impatience, re-
solved to separate from him : inexperienced as
she was she took no steps to secure a settlement,
and having escaped from him and taken her pas-
sage home, she came to me to claim my promise
of protecting her.
" I employed lawyers to endeavour to obtain
her rights, and for some years now have been in
continual annoyance respecting her. Her old
husband has left India and is playing at hide and
seek to evade her, and she meanwhile is as improvi-
dent, extravagant and thoughtless, as she was
when she first married my equally silly brother.
" But she has no bad propensities, and I be-
lieve her to be perfectly correct in her conduct,
though Loftus will not agree with me. She
detests her present husband so much that she
choses to be called by the name of her first, whose
memory, perhaps out of opposition, she affects to
cherish deeply and would never seek Frewen,
the unlucky man whom she married, but with the
hope of obtaining money from him."
" Frewen," said Clara, " then he must be the
morose old Indian who lodges with Mrs. Spicer,
and was always so cross and tyrannical. She
must have gone then into his very den, without
knowing it."
" That is singular enough," said Sir Anselm,
D 3
58 CLARA FANE.
" she has very strange imaginings ^half Indian,
half European, and does nothing like other people.
I confess her eccentricities amused me so much
that I indulged her too far, and allowed her to
make me as ridiculous as herself at times as I
fear you must think, when you look back to Rose
Cottage and its affectations."
" I have often thought how different you are
now from what you seemed to me at that period,"
said Clara, "I thought you very eccentric cer-
tainly, and every one in your house also, and
nothing more so than the sudden dissolution of
the enchantment."
" Oh that," said Sir Anselm, laughing, " was
not very mysterious. I had hired the house for a
time and the period was at an end Mrs. Frillet
was on a visit with me then, and I had no inclina-
tion to extend it she went with me a tour to
Scotland where I left her with some of her rela-
tions, I was ignorant of the manner in which
she had made herself acquainted with you, or I
should not have allowed you to be disappointed
with false hopes. Her romances are so vivid that
they might be called by a harsher name, and her
invention so ready that she is never at fault. I
seldom made enquiries or attempted to ascertain
the truth of anything she said, provided it did not
interfere with my arrangements.
CLARA FANE. 59
" But do you think Frewen is still in Poland
Street ? it may be of moment to ascertain the
fact."
Clara could give no further information, but
she had said enough to give a clue to the lawyers
with whom Sir A.nselm communicated, and it led
to results which will be related hereafter.
"The sight of Altheim," continued Sir An-
selm
I
' Has raised the ghost of pleasure to my soul.'
You .can scarcely imagine all that crowds upon
my memory, at this moment, both joyous and sad.
I see, in imagination, the old castle, near Vienna,
with its beautiful gardens, where I first met two
sisters, not unlike, and not much older than those
fair creatures whom you call your pupils.
" 1 was then young and ardent, and full of
aspirations after the good and beautiful: I was
travelling with a tutor, having just completed my
college education, and chance directed me to a
spot destined to decide my future destiny.
" To the youngest of the sisters I have men-
tioned, the daughters of a man of high rank, my
heart became devoted; but we were considered
too young to be allowed to engage ourselves, and
were forced to part, with the prospect of a separa-
tion of some years, when a hope was held out to
60 CLARA FANE.
us. We had not, however, although we seemingly
agreed, abided by this decision of more experi-
enced persons, and had entered into a promise
that no circumstances should ever prevent our re-
maining true to the vows we then made to live
alone for each other.
" We exchanged rings, on which Words were
engraven intended to express the resolution we
had formed and the readiness with which we
trusted to each other; these words are familiar to
you, and are not uncommon, as a received motto,
in Germany
Trau. Scliau. "Wem.
for which reason my Agnes had chosen them, her
own rich and overflowing language like that of
the East, expressing volumes in a few words.
" When I returned to England a series of vex-
ations awaited me : my father's conduct had
always been unworthy of the angelic woman who
had the misfortune to be his wife, and, at length,
he had thrown off all reserve, and treated her so
ill that she was compelled to sue for a separation.
This he did not desire as she was an heiress with
immense possessions, and he persecuted her with-
out ceasing to obtain her consent to supply his
extravagance, which was boundless, to the detri-
ment of myself, their only child.
"Constant differences ensued, and our home
CLARA FANE. 61
was made wretched : I clung to my mother and
defended her rights, and thus incurred the enmity
of my father. Under these circumstances the
idea of my own marriage could not be entertained,
as every description of difficulty was thrown in
the way of any settlement of our affairs. My
mother, too, had a great objection to my marrying
a foreigner, although of my own religion, and the
space seemed daily widening between me and my
beloved Agnes.
"My father had large estates in Jamaica,
which he had allowed to be sadly neglected, and
there it was necessary that I should go to see that
they were properly superintended. It was during
my absence that my father died; and I re-
turned home only to receive the last sigh of a
mother whom I adored.
" I was now master of great wealth, and was
independent of any controul. My first care was
to hasten to Vienna and claim my bride. Her
sister was already married to the Count of Al-
theim ; but Agnes had remained firm to the pro-
mise she gave me, and I had the happiness of
convincing her that I deserved her devotion.
" We were married, and I took her to Eng-
land, where, for a few happy years, we lived in
Derbyshire in the utmost content and delight.
One disappointment alone was ours, that Agnes
62 CLARA FANE.
brought me no heirs to the property which we
enjoyed; her health, too, began to decline, and I
soon became alarmed at the change that appeared
in her.
'* I dare not dwell on the misery which over-
whelmed me when I could no longer doubt that
she was threatened with consumption ; one last
hope was left me, a warmer climate might restore
her. I took her to Bermuda, and there the soft
air and genial warmth appeared to revive her en-
tirely. For a year I watched the happy change
and saw her blooming and joyous, full of hope
and the promise of health ; if anything could add
to our blissful state of existence in those Elysian
shores it was the birth of a daughter, and for nearly
two years afterwards she continued well, when
again the fatal symptoms returned after the pre-
mature birth of a son, who was born dead, and
in a few months the hopes I had dared to cherish
were at an end for ever. She died.
" I was now alone with my bereaved child,
and, except that the grave of my Agnes was there
amongst those cedar-covered rocks and those
caves where we had so often wandered, I had no
reason for remaining at Bermuda ; the health of
my daughter would be more secure in England ;
for that soft climate, which had cheated me with
hope, promises nothing to infant life. We had a
CLAKA FANE 63
faithful servant, a free black, called Christopher
Tucker, whom my Agnes had attached to her in
the strongest manner ; I gave my child in charge
to him, with her nurse, his wife, and saw them
embark on board a vessel which was taking back
a family who had known and loved her mother,
and who willingly took care of the only remain-
ing tie which bound me to life.
" In an evil hour I consented that they should
embark without me, as it was necessary that I
should go first to Jamaica, and I proposed to fol-
low almost immediately to England.
" I must relate the rest of this history, since
I have carried you thus far, although it is a
blank. The vessel in which my child sailed must
have been overtaken by a series of storms, which
I myself encountered, and when I reached Eng-
land the first news that greeted me was that it
had never been heard of since it left Bermuda.
" All inquiries were vain all hope dispelled ;
my bereavement was total, and I remained now
doubly alone in the world. I could not bear to
stay in England, and from that time, nearly
seventeen years, I have been a wanderer.
" It appeared to me that such grief and deso-
lation of heart as mine could find no remedy even
in time, and so it was for many years; but I can
now think of all this sorrow calmly, and endure
64 CLARA FANE.
to speak of it, although the pang is in my heart
still which a breath can revive in all its bitter-
ness.
" I shall now, for the first time since my great
loss, see the sister of my Agnes once more ; her
son you have already seen, and if she is what she
was in days long past she will receive you with a
warmth of feeling such as a strange resemblance
to her we have lost cannot, I am sure, fail to
inspire to me it has acted like a jspell."
" Am I then so fortunate as to resemble one
so dear to you ?" exclaimed Clara.
" There are many points of great resem-
blance," replied Sir Anselm, " your voice in par-
ticular, both in singing and speaking ; your hair is
dark, her's was very fair, and the features are not
the same, nor is the height, and yet there are
moments when the smallest action of your hand
a sudden turn of your head, cause me to start
at the fanciful similarity."
Clara fell into a fit of musing after she had
heard this sad story, from which she was not
roused until the round towers, the citadel and
church on its commanding height, and the long
wooden bridge of Linz appeared in sight, and it
was announced that their voyage, for the present,
was concluded.
CLARA FANE. 65
CHAPTER V.
There is a fair behaviour in thee, Captain.
Twelfth Night.
To each of the travellers who were lovers of fine
scenery, for even Lady Seymour felt or affected
some enthusiasm, nothing had yet offered itself to
them to compare with that which greeted them
after they had arrived at the pretty inn at Lam-
bach, on their way from Linz to the Gmunden See.
They had been persuaded to take the tram-road
a railroad with horses from Linz, and a more
tedious and uninteresting mode of travelling can
scarcely be imagined, for there is in it none of the
rapid excitement of steam or the amusing accidents
of posting. All is solemn, quiet, stupid and safe,
but slow and sleepy beyond the endurance of
lively wanderers the country being flat and un-
varied, renders the journey doubly uninteresting,
66 CLARA FANE.
and the delight of the whole party when they
arrived at Lambach was extreme.
Close to the railroad-station is a large rustic
hotel, so clean and comfortable as to excite sur-
prise, served by the most civil of landlords and
chambermaids, hostess and porters, who all seem
to vie with each other in welcoming the traveller
almost disinterestedly, for they charge almost
nothing for the entertainment they give, and to
glory in displaying their powers of pleasing.
It is difficult not to be pleased in such a
charming place, with the blue Traun running its
rapid race through emerald meadows before you
and the pretty town, with its monasteries and
churches enclosed in gardens, and its terraces and
vines planted where formerly extended lines of
defence, all of which you see from the windows
of the hotel without entering the walls, where the
illusion would be dispelled.
The first object on arriving is to order car-
riages to drive at once in search of the falls of the
bluest and most transparent of rivers, and before
long the square, gigantic mass of the stupendous
Traunstein rises in the purple distance, beckoning
the wanderer onward.
The insignificant town of Wels would arrest
no one for its own sake till it is recollected that
here, in a castle of which nothing scarcely now
CLARA FANE. 67
remains, died the great Emperor Maximilian, the
husband of Mary of Burgundy, faithful to the
memory of his earliest love to the last.
Sir Anselm reminded Clara of this as they
passed onwards, for he had before observed that
the story of the interesting heiress had interested
her, and there was something in her history which
touched a chord in his own breast.
Of all the torrents out of the Pyrenees, where
the colour of the gaves is of a pure metallic blue
not to be equalled, that of the Traun has the
most exquisite tint: it is a rich, clear, deep,
transparent purple-green, not so dark or blue as
the Rhone, at Geneva, but of a brighter shade,
though one very similar. Its speed is as furious
and impetuous as the most angry of its kind, and
it runs leaping, foaming, and dashing from one
end of its journey to the other, through valleys
more lovely than painters or poets ever dreamt of;
nothing in Switzerland, in the Tyrol, or in the
Pyrenean valleys can surpass, scarcely equal it in
the greatest part of its course and at the spot where
it makes its famous leap over the picturesque
rocks which impede it, the force of beauty can go
no further.
Though not half so broad as the SchafFhausen
Falls, to which it has been compared, it may vie
with that magnificent cataract in some particulars,
68 CLARA FANE.
although of course no further than the fall of a
small river can equal that of so glorious a body
of water at the Rhine.
Nothing can be so unjust as to compare one
lovely scene with another and permit either to
suffer. When looking on the Falls of the
Traun and listening to its thunders as the blue
waters dash madly over a hundred jagged rocks,
what admirer of Nature is there who, while he
remembers the effect of the four overwhelm-
ing torrents of the Rhine, driving down with
headlong speed over giant barriers which they
seem to shake to their very base, does not ac-
knowledge that the miniature cataract is as sur-
prising and as exquisite in its kind ?
The spot from whence the Falls of the Traun
are seen, must be sought by a precipitous descent
and not till the mill turned by the waters is
reached is the wonder visible, while at Schaff-
hausen from the summit of a lofty, wide, grand,
and glorious mountain expands the broad, foaming,
descending river, open to all eyes.
Still, at the Traun there is great excitement
in hunting for various points of view from whence
to see the war of waters best : from the bridge,
from the mill, from a rude wooden balcony hang-
ing over one of the falls, in a shed below, on a
ledge of rocks above, wherever they are beheld,
CLARA FANE. 69
they seem to show to greatest advantage, burst-
ing from a back-ground of black and torn pines,
and leaping with terrified speed from ledge to
ledge, till the various streams unite into the mur-
muring torrent far below, which runs rapidly but
with less perturbation, between the wooded rocks
that bound its valley.
Not the least marvel of this scene is the daz-
zling speed of a little canal by the side of the
torrent formed by the hand of man for the pur-
pose of facilitating the descent of the salt barges
on the river. The rapidity with which the water
bursts along this inclined plane, is so incredible
that the brain whirls in regarding it, and yet it
has long been by this liquid-road that heavy
barges were sent down from the spot where the
cataract interrupted navigation to the calmer river
far below the mountain.
The canal is cut in the face of the rock, and
its bed is formed of wood the water uninter-
rupted and pure as crystal, without a bead of
foam, seems to make but one perpetual rush to
reach its destination, and in a single minute has
leapt from the top to the bottom of the ravine,
bearing along with it the freight consigned to its
care, and depositing it in the quiet water below,
where the river is again navigable.
After lingering for some hours in the wild but
70 CLARA FANE.
sunny valley of the Traun, the party took their
way towards Gmunden, threading the mazes of
apparently interminable pine-forests, black and
solemn, but occasionally admitting gleams which
lighted up their red stems as if an enchanted
golden wood were inviting fairy guests.
A range of mountains, clear and sharp against
the blue sky, extended their shadowy forms before
them in long perspective : above all the rest and
nearest to the eye, rose the colossal Traunstein,
monarch of the region, and the sublimity of the
scene continued to increase with every mile which
brought them nearer to the lake. They found
the little town of Gmunden as full of bustle and
noise and disturbative excitement, as if they had
reached Greenwich on a grand whitebait day.
Hundreds of people were seated at tables in
the crowded rooms of the principal hotel, devour-
ing the trout for which the lake is famous, and
by their vociferations and the confusion of the
waiters, contrived entirely to distroy the charm
of solitude which should accompany the scenery
amidst which the town is placed.
To visit the Lake of Gmunden is a pleasure
excursion for the inhabitants of the whole extent
of the Salzkammergut, and travellers of all nations
may be found in ceaseless succession seeking its
CLARA FANE. 71
beauties, and eager to enjoy the fish-dinners it
provides.
The sudden contrast from the solitudes they
had passed through for so long a time, was very
striking to the party of Sir Anselm. Claudia and
Sybilla enjoyed the bustle which distracted Lady
Seymour's nerves, disturbed the reveries of Clara,
and jarred on the spirits of Sir Anselm.
Count Altheim was delighted to observe the
amusement of the sisters, and Mr. Clark busied
himself with his dinner first and afterwards in
hurrying out to catch glimpses of the lake and
mountains, which recent buildings in this Black-
wall of Austria have almost shut out from the
windows of the hotel.
He returned with news that a grand fete was
about to take place that evening, as part of the
Imperial Family were to arrive from Ischel to see
the lake and mountains by moonlight.
The idea of a fete has always its charm with
the young, and it was with lively expectation
that they all embarked after sunset and rowed
along the pretty tranquil waters to meet the
Imperial steamer which bore the expected royal
party. The low, undulating hills which rise
from the banks, looked soft and calm in the rays
of the departing sun, and soon from the windows
of every village cottage, of which there are nume-
72 CLARA FANE.
rous groups dotted over the heights and approach-
ing the water's edge, appeared glow-worm glim-
merings which increased in brightness as night
advanced, till the whole lake glittered with the
reflection of the rural illumination.
Numerous small boats appeared, darting along
the crystal surface ; their masts hung with gar-
lands of coloured lamps, and the outline of their
forms marked by rows of the same glowing fire-
painting. Soft strains of music awoke the echoes
round, and choruses of clear, deep voices sounded
along the shore and died away in the distance.
The moon rose in unclouded majesty and threw a
veil of silver over every peak and jagged edge of
rock which, at the upper end of the lake, send up
their pyramids into the sky when gliding through
the midst, like an enchanted bark radiant with
illumination came the Imperial vessel.
A magnificent band accompanied its course,
and light and melody filled the whole space be-
tween the banks. For several hours this gay
pageant continued, and then the royal visitors
returned on their way back to Ischel, and left the
lake and mountains to midnight and darkness,
while the travellers returned to Gmunden to
sleep.
The next day the party embarked on board
one of the steamers which carry passengers from
CLARA FANE. 73
Gmunden to Ebensee, and by the light of day they
had then an opportunity of observing the beauties
which remained to be admired. The shores, par-
ticularly at the further extremity of this gem of
lakes, lost nothing by a bright sunlight, although
the gay character which distinguished their green
slopes towards the opening at the first town lost
itself by degrees, and perpendicular rocks, and
black fir forests appeared where a sudden change of
scenery divides the lake, as it were, into two ; a few
snowy peaks by degrees showed themselves above
the rest and told of Alps in the distance, reveal-
ing the existence of mountains more sublime
than any that had yet appeared, and by their
promise almost casting into shade the frowning
mass of Traunstein, hitherto the giant and tyrant
of the country, and the lord of the lake over which
he presides.
Just before the too rapid voyage is finishe d
all the gaiety and cheerfulness of the scene ends,
and a solemn gloom takes possession of the whole :
the rocks become black and straight, rising abruptly
from the dark green waters, on which the shadows
of overhanging pine- wood rest : hundreds of jagged
peaks throw up their javelins as if a frowning
army of conspirators were guarding the pass a
few old towers, a half-seen church, peer out from
the gloom, and projecting barriers of stone seem
VOL. III. E
74 CLARA FANE.
to threaten to block up the passage of the in-
truding vessel.
To the infinite amusement of Clara and her
pupils, they found that the captain of the steamer
on board of which they were, was a countryman.
His strong northern accent could not be mistaken
even if the bluff, hearty appearance of the man
had not at once betrayed the fact.
They immediately hastened to make his ac-
quaintance, and he appeared so delighted with
their beauty and gaiety that it was with some
difficulty he could tear himself away from their
society to give the necessary orders to his men.
" How came you to be here ?" exclaimed
Claudia. " I cannot believe I am talking to an
Englishman in such a far-removed place as this
lake, in the heart of the Austrian mountains do
tell us your history !"
" Aye, Miss," said the Captain, " that'd take
a good bit of time if I was to begin such a yarn,
and this voyage doesn't take two hours from one
end of the lake to the other. I'll tell you how it
is. After I came from sea I travelled about to
see foreign parts, and have been pretty nigh all
over Europe, let alone all the rest well, I came
here on a jaunt with a few more shipmates, and
never did I see such a set of lubbers as plied
along this lake. They'd got a capital steamer,
CLARA FANE. 75
and were trying to make her walk, but they'd
no more idea of doing it than of sailing to the moon ;
so I couldn't bear to see such blundering, and some-
how or other I took to watching of it, and caring
for it, and at last I agreed to buy the whole thing
out and out, and teach 'em how to manage the
craft. So here I am, quite promiscous like, I
hardly know how, settled upon this lake. I go
away after summer, and amuse myself elsewhere,
and come back when travellers arrive. Some-
time^ I go to England, for its dull work being
always away from home. I've got a brother
settled now close by Liverpool, and he calls me
a fool for not marrying and settling there, where
he and his wife is, and if I could find such a
sweet-faced lass as either of you now, or such
another good creature as my brother's wife, I
don't know but I should."
" Suppose one of us," laughed Claudia, " was
to say we would have you, would you take us
back and go and live there ? Where did you say
your brother lived, and what is your name ?"
" Why, my beauties !" said the Captain,
" you've only to say so, any one of you three, now,
and see if I wouldn't be as good as my word.
The place I talked of is Birkenhead, and my
name's Captain Richard Love, at your service
you couldn't have a better."
E 2
76 CLARA FANE.
The sisters laughed immoderately at this, but
Clara, trembling with agitation, to their great
surprise, laid her hand on the captain's arm and
exclaimed
" Are you the brother then of my dear Cap-
tain Love, of Liverpool, and my nurse Susey?
Are you the brother I have so often heard them
talk of?"
"The same, ma'am/' said the Captain aston-
ished in his turn : then who can you be sure
you're not the little girl brother Ned saved out
at sea ?"
"I am no other," said Clara. "I am the
child he saved and brought home, and whom his
wife loved, and nursed, and cherished as her
own."
Sir Anselm, who had been standing at the
other end of the vessel during the former part of
their conversation, had approached at this mo-
ment, smiling to observe the flirtation established
with the Captain, when he was struck by the
expression of Clara's countenance and the tears
which were running down her cheeks as she seized
the Captain's hand and shook it warmly 1 .
" Lord bless my heart, Miss," said the Cap-
tain, " who'd a thought of such a thing when I
first helped you on board of this boat, that you
should be that very child. Why my sister-in-law
CLARA FANE. 77
is as fond of you as if you was her own, and has
never done wishing she had never let you go
away with some lady who took a fancy to you.
Lord, Miss, it was a good day's work my brother
did when he picked you up at sea. Well, when
you send to my brother and sister-in-law, you
just tell them you ran aground of me, and they'll
be. glad to hear it, and," he added, looking know-
ing at Claudia, " if you like to say anything else
about my marrying and settling, you have my
permission so to do."
Clara would have been instantly overwhelmed
by the inquiries of her pupils respecting this
rencontre and all connected with it, but that the
boat had arrived at Ebensee, and they were forced
to take a hasty farewell of their gallant friend,
while Clara gave him many assurances of deliver-
ing the numerous messages he sent to his rela-
tives, as he observed niat she would be more
likely to be handling the pen than he for some
time to come.
"Do not doubt me," said she; "I will tell
nurse Susey that you will return and spend
Christmas with them it will be joyful news, I
know, for the long-delayed hopes of seeing you
continually occupied their minds when, as a child,
I used to listen to the accounts of your adventures
as well as those of Captain Love."
78 CLARA FANE.
" Aye/' returned he, " my brother and I have
seen a good deal of service, one way and t'other,
and had a good many odd accidents, but I never
found a little child floating out."
CLARA FANE. 79
CHAPTER VI.
There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet !
Moore.
THE valley of the Traun yields in exquisite scenery
to none in Europe : it seems, indeed, to combine
the beauties of many countries within its bounds
and nothing that the painter or the poet may
image can surpass the charm of the drive from
the Gmunden See to the secluded town of the
Baths of Ischl, which in vain endeavour to con-
ceal themselves in a nest of mountains, one
overtopping and crowding on the other, as if to
guard the sacred springs from the knowledge of
intruding man.
The Traun is here in all its freedom and glory,
and comes with its emerald-blue waters dancing and
plunging and leaping along its valley of rocks in
playful force, like a young giant, whose wild
80 CLARA FANE.
gambols no restraints can keep in bounds. The
road runs the whole way along the side of this
beautiful torrent, now mounting almost even with
the peaks, now descending close to its brink,
through alternate groves of rich trees and woods
of pines, till at length the valley spreads out and
leaves room for the pretty bathing place and its
palace-like erections built, as it were, in the
centre of a star, from whence run far away a
circle of branching vallies, losing themselves in
the depths of the snowy mountains round.
The season of the baths was over, and neither
crowds nor noise interrupted the stillness of the
spot, which is cheerful even in the midst of its
solemn vicinity of eternal snows.
For some time the travellers remained at
Ischl, enjoying its beauties one day and lament-
ing the floods of rain which, without a note of
warning, would render the whole scene desolate
the next. This constant variety is, perhaps, one
of the greatest sources of interest in these regions,
for scarcely for two hours together does the scene
appear in the same mood. Now the whole is
enveloped in cloud and mist, which clearing off
for a few moments or an hour, allows the sun to
reveal a whole host of beauties only to re-close
the curtain with violence, and consign the whole
to apparently hopeless gloom; then burst forth
CLARA FANE. 81
storms that shake the hills to their foundation,
and send thundering echoes through their caverns
and ravines, prolonging the beautiful horror ; then,
white mists form themselves into diadems, and
rest on the black summits of frowning peaks or
embrace their reluctant bosoms with their shadowy
arms. Anon, the blue sky forces itself a passage,
and some bright gleam will gild every peak with
living gold : then, spanning the vallies from side
to side come forth to sight double and triple
rainbows, fainter and fainter till they vanish in
the clouds, and again the heavens are black, the
rain comes rushing down like a cataract, and
angry night closes with a hurricane of wind the
hopes of that day.
After such an one, during the intervals of
which they had contrived to climb the nearest of
the hills of Ischl, called the Calvarienberg, and
looked, from numerous sheltered stations, on
the crowding mountains, tier above tier, the
morning rose in uninterrupted brilliancy, as if
storm and rain were unknown in the region, and
the whole party set forth on an excursion to the
Lake of Hallstadt.
Their adventures Clara described in one of
her letters to Mrs. Fowler, as follows :
" The drive is one of ten miles, along the en-
chanting valley of the beautiful transparent Traun,
3
82 CLARA FANE.
which appears to me quite unequalled in pictu-
resque charm : it is here as furious as we have
everywhere seen it, but its passion is so charming
that one would regret that it was ever reformed.
The mountains as we advanced rose higher and
higher in double ranges : the fields spread out
their emerald bosoms, and orchards full of ripe
fruit extended along our way. The villages have
all a Swiss character, but I am told are less at-
tractive, although I admired the houses extremely
with their carved fronts and grey roofs. There is
the utmost neatness and cleanliness everywhere,
none of the slovenly picturesqueness of France,
either in the villages or the people. I confess I
regret throughout Germany the absence of that
delightful vivacity and ceaseless movement, which
one meets with amongst the gay French, that
ready animation and civility which puts you in
spirits in the midst of all sorts of inconvenience.
The people here are dull, flat, and apathetic ;
they never ask a question, and scarcely answer
one ; they go through every action as if it was a
duty, without giving the least idea of its affording
them pleasure. Whatever their interior qualities
it must be confessed that the German exterior is
not attractive.
" Our party, after a most exciting journey,
arrived at the Gasau Miihl, a large sawmill for
CLARA FANE. 83
the countless loads of timber floated down the
headlong torrent of the Traun. Here we found
a large, commodious boat, covered with an awn-
ing, and, without a word being exchanged between
us and those to whose guidance we gave ourselves,
we entered and began the navigation of the lake,
rowed by two silent men and one robust, rather
handsome, young woman, in a black boddice and
large straw hat with floating ribbons.
" For three quarters of an hour we made our
way, past precipitous limestone mountains, rising
sheer from the waters to the height of six and
nine thousand feet, their peaks sharp, and notched,
and weird looking. The fir-woods are here in all
their grandeur and gloom, but there are trees of
other growth luxuriant and beautiful, and some
dipping their branches in the emerald waves that
reach them.
" This is the largest of a chain of lakes formed
by the Traun, which transforms everything into
beauty that it passes. A tower on the summit
of a mountain indicates where, nestled beneath
amongst the precipitous rocks, lies the village of
Hallstadt, which is built in the most singular
manner, as if on the face of the cliff; steps cut
in the rock lead from one house to another, and
there is no possibility of a road.
" The view here of the swarming, crowding,
84 CLARA FANE.
meeting mountains is sublime, and we made our
rowers linger outside that Clark might take a
sketch, which he has really done well, for the
scenery inspires him. We then pushed our boat
into a little creek, and were welcomed by the rustic
innkeeper and his attendants, who had a chair
with four bearers provided for Lady Seymour, as
we proposed to ascend the mountain to the Wal-
bachstrub, as a fine fall, about three miles off, is
called.
" You may imagine with what animation vye
all set out on foot, following the guides who,
silent and unmoved, trotted off with their bur-
then along the level valley for some distance. We
were all in extacies at the scenes which disclosed
themselves on our way to the summit of this
steep rock, now through thick pine-forests, then
across fertile plains and meadows, and narrow
passes hemmed in by jagged rocks.
" We had just emerged from a wood when we
saw exactly in our path, which it appeared to block
up, an enormous square mass of solid limestone,
whose menacing form seemed to warn us to ap-
proach no further. We dared the adventure, how-
ever, and passed the monster, in spite of his frowns
and those of fifty of his brethren of the ' giant
brood/ who peered curiously over his shoulders as
if to watch the effect their presence would create.
CLARA FANE. 85
" Too many inquisitive strangers have, how-
ever, of late years visited his domain to make his
presence fearful, as is proved clearly by the sin-
gular accommodations provided for travellers in
this solitude. There are steps cut and kept
in excellent order wherever the path of the
ascent is too steep to be convenient : after winter
rains sometimes the whole of this labour has to
be renewed; but the painstaking Austrians are
soon at their busy work again, and all is as well
arranged as before. We met with several blocks
in the path, owing to the late violent weather
of a few days, and we wondered how Lady Sey-
mour's bearers would contrive to surmount them ;
but they left us little opportunity for speculation,
climbing over every obstacle as if they were
merely pebbles in the path.
" After much laughter and scrambling, which
lasted more than hour, we at length reached the
top, leaving forests of pointed pines below us,
and having paused at every opening to observe
the thousand cataracts, huge and swollen from
the rain of yesterday, which thundered throughout
the way down the black ravine we were climbing.
" We were well rewarded at the end. There,
from a broad platform covered with verdure, where
a half-circular seat 'has been placed, we sat our-
86 CLARA FANE.
selves down, first to recover our fatigue and then
to enjoy the marvellous spectacle before us.
" The mighty cataract came pouring from the
black and rugged rocks above our heads from fifty
different points, for it was more than usually
swollen : these torrents leapt from off the rocky
ledges as if in terrified haste, bursting through
black caverns and hurling themselves into deep,
dark basins beneath, again to be dashed on to
blocks of stone, and whirled down the foaming
abyss and through the forest ravine into the
broad, green lake far below.
" The guides were at length induced to speak,
and said, with wondering eyes, that they had
never seen the Walbachstrub so full and flowing
as on this day, for though always grand 110 doubt,
the circumstance of yesterday's deluge, which we
so much deplored, not knowing how much our
interest of to-day was advanced by it, had ren-
dered it more than usually splendid.
"Three or four lines of water broken into
smoky foam, reminded Sir Anselm of the Swiss
Staubbach; but here, though infinitely less in
volume, were many, instead of one, leaping into
each other, dividing again to be again united, after
surmounting the barrier of some rocky wall. There
seems a race between the spirits of the torrent
which shall first reach the bottom, as troops of
CLARA FANE. 87
them dart ceaselessly from countless holes and
caves, and thunder after each other down the
declivity, roaring and whistling and whizzing
through the air. All this time, as we stood gaz-
ing here or running there, or seated motionless
watching this commotion, a tempest of spray was
hurled at us from the rocks. Lady Seymour
called to her bearers to take her to a more
sheltered spot, and we were glad to wrap our-
selves in our mantles to prevent our being wet
through.
' ' After we had remained sometime at the top
on the platform, we reluctantly descended to a
jutting point, where another view was to be
gained, and this we all pronounced even more
glorious than the first, although it is true we con-
tinued to assert the same at every new view we
obtained of this queen of waterfalls.
"It was really a relief to see that the four
mute bearers at last seemed a little warmed into
admiration and uttered a few exclamations now
arid then. Although they were so heavy in their
minds, their outward appearance added not a
little to the general effect. Each of them wore a
high-pointed Tyrolese hat, with broad black or
green bands, and a bright coloured flower and
gold tassel hanging at the brim.
" They were obedient and civil, and we ended
88 CLARA FANE.
by taking them into favour, for they defended us
manfully against the repeated attacks of multitudes
of dwarfish cretins deformed with goitre, unhappy
creatures who infest the valley, and are clamorous
for alms. How sad it is that Nature, so full of
beauty in all that is inanimate, should exhibit her-
self in a shape so terrible as regards humanity, and
this wherever she is most attractive in her scenery!
" We were singularly amused on our descent
at meeting an English party bent on the adven-
venture we had just achieved : two were ladies,
and the third an elderly gentleman, extremely
stout and lame withal, for he was walking with
two sticks.
" Sir Anselm agreed to the proposition he made
to send off two of the bearers to fetch him a chair
from Hallstadt, as he was so weary that to him,
' returning were as tedious as go o'er.' He was
full of gratitude for this civility, although it is
usual always to send two of the attendants forward
on the return, four being required only to relieve
each other on the ascent. This party knew not
a word of German ; or, it would appear, any other
language but their native Wiltshire, and they,
recounted naively that being resolved not to be
imposed upon, they had rejected the host's offer
of a chair and bearers the old gentleman not
believing the distance to be so great or the path
CLARA FANE. 89
so steep as the few words of English uttered by
the innkeeper assured him it was.
" ( However/ said he, ' I am like to pay for my
incredulity, anyhow ; and, since I am so far, I'll
e'en go to the very top, just to say I did.'
" I could not help thinking that Sheridan's
morality after all was not so bad as it appears,
when he recommended his son to say he had been
in a coal-mine, and save himself the trouble of
going there."
* * * #
" After our return to Ischl in the evening, we
were able, so perfectly splendid was the weather,
to wander over the hills close to the town, which
does not imply any fatigue, for they are all so
arranged that invalids may roam for miles without
knowing such a feeling, in fact at Ischl romance
is ' made easy ' with arbours and seats and plat-
forms and chapels and stations where the fine
ranges of mountains can be contemplated without
the slightest difficulty. Half-way up the hills are
gardens filled with trees and flowers, where bands
of music are stationed in the season they were
making hay in one field, late in autumn as it is.
" The pretty town lies quietly in the valley,
guarded by its phalanx of mountains, with Alps
in the distance, grey and capped with snow. The
murmur of the Traun reaches the ear from afar,
90 CLARA FANE.
as it divides itself into twenty streams, winding
and turning and crossed by numerous bridges,
some of great width, owing to its occasional over-
flow.
" We descended to one of these bridges, and
were astonished at its length, as we continued
our walk between piles of floating timber, which
loads the river, and, at stated periods, is sent on to
its destination by the opening of sluices. On
the shore we explored a perfect city of stacked
wood, arranged as it were in streets, numbered
and marked, The effect is very singular, and the
odour of the pine- wood delicious.
" Outside these wooden walls lie many rough,
worn logs, their bark torn and wounded from the
desperate journeys they have made down the
torrent to reach this spot, arriving from the spot
where they are cut down and sent headlong
from thence down a mountain into the boiling
stream whose current is to bear them on.
Their turbulent course continues till they are
arrested by gratings placed for the purpose, when
they are collected and stacked, cut up, sold, and
burnt a wild life of it have these enormous
logs, and weary and worn they look, shivered and
splintered, and ragged and scratched like one
in the race of life who, born at the height of
fortune, has experienced reverse after reverse,
CLARA FANE. 91
struggle after struggle, resisting, buffeting, striv-
ing with Fate till the end finds him mutilated,
wounded, battered and prostrate, at the mercy of
a triumphant world."
92 CLARA FANE.
CHAPTER VII.
Be calni, good wind, blow not a word away
Till I have found each letter in the letter
Except my own name !
Two Gentlemen of Verona.
I have left my quiet home,
With thee through the world to roam.
Mrs. Norton,
IT is necessary now that we should leave our tra-
vellers on their way, and change the scene for a
time to a splendid apartment on the Italian Boule-
vard at Paris, where, surrounded by objets of the
most costly description ana dressed in the very
height of fashion and extravagance, sat a lady
whose beauty was scarcely so remarkable as a
certain air of boldness and daring and an ease of
action which might pass for grace. She was
reading letters, some of which she threw aside
with contempt, while she paused on others with
complacency, smiles and frowns alternating on her
face as she glanced at her various correspondence.
CLARA FANE. 93
While she was thus occupied, the door opened
and a gentleman entered abruptly: he did not
remove his hat, nor did he take any notice of the
lady as he advanced hastily to the table, near
which she sat and took possession of several
letters that lay there.
" Upon my word, Luttrel," exclaimed the lady
in an angry tone, " your manners improve with
the air of Paris you are quite a bear I"
"You are singularly complimentary, Celia,"
said the gentlemen as he threw himself into a chair,
and cast his hat on the ground by his side, busying
himself reading his letters, without looking up.
The lady continued, in a bitter tone.
"You seem monstrously anxious about your
letters to-day ! I wonder what you expect to
interest you so much? You are such a good
father that no doubt it is from your daughters
you wish to hear, or from their fine governess
which is it, sir ?"
She delivered the last question in a con-
temptuous tone, which seemed to attract the at-
tention of Mr. Luttrel, who replied
" I should be very glad indeed to hear of that
pretty creature you speak of, whose gentleness
and prudence I so much admire."
" Do you," cried the lady, starting up, " and
you dare to say this to my face ! to me who
94 CLARA FANE.
have left all for you who have devoted myself
to you, disgraced my family and connexions, and
followed you about like a tame dog ! you un-
grateful, unfeeling "
" Stop, Celia, stop !" exclaimed Mr. Luttrel ;
"there are some things which my nerves cannot
stand, and the cracking sound of your voice, when
you are in a passion, is one it is never vey
sweet, but it grows positive discord of late."
" Insolence ! " cried Celia, bursting into tears
of mortification ; " you took care not to say that
when you did all in your power to entice me
away from home, and told me you intended
making me your wife when once I had proved my
affection to you. Have I not proved it ? have
I not sacrificed all for you, and now you turn
upon me."
" Really, Celia," said Mr. Luttrel calmly, " I
am at a loss to know what you call sacrifice;
you are continually naming it, but I am too slow
to catch the meaning of your invectives. You
lived in a dark, dull, dirty hole in London your
highest grandeur was a drive in a hired carriage
to Hackney or Hornsey on a Sunday your glory
a ball at the Opera more lively than reputable,
and there, my love, you know we first met. Your
respectable papa, who made me habiliments by
the way, too ill to be worn has set his house oa
CLARA FANE. 95
fire to cheat the insurance, and got himself into
durance vile I have paid money for him and re-
leased him I have brought you to the gayest
capital in Europe I give you a carriage a box
at the opera and theatres as much money as-
you please, and yet you say you have disgraced
yourself, and make me out to be a sort of villain
in a tragedy, a seducer of innocence, a betrayer of
purity it is too comic !"
"Luttrel," said the lady, "you may be as
contemptuous as you please, and run over all the
wonderful benefits you have bestowed on me :
they amount to nothing I don't care for them
I scorn them you promise is unfulfilled I am
not your wife, and you neglect me for others.
Do you think I will endure this ? You go out
all day, sometimes all night you pass your time
in society which I know nothing about you re-
turn haggard, and worn, and sullen, and you
refuse to explain your conduct 1"
"My dear exigeante" replied Luttrel, " I might
as well be married indeed as have to support re-
proaches of this kind. You must be more silly
than I took you for to suppose that I ever could
have intended to marry you it is too laughable !
why should I ? there is no need of it ! those
were words of course. I have often made the pro-
mise you talk of before and I should find it
66 CLARA FANE.
difficult to keep it. Now let us understand each
other. I have no intention of interfering with
you, and I do not expect to be continually
attacked and bored when I see you. You have
your remedy if this pleases you not mine will
be to absent myself altogether."
"You want to get rid of me!" exclaimed
Celia; "you want me to do something desperate
to give you an excuse for leaving me/'
"I do not/' replied he, "consider myself
bound to wait for an excuse if my inclination
points to the course you speak of. But, now we
are on the subject, as I hate scenes, we may as
well settle things at once. You and I were not
formed for each other we shall end by scratch-
ing, and that does not suit me. 1 will continue
to allow you enough to live on you must put
down the carriage and give up the opera-box I
am going to Italy to my family. It is more
respectable, and you can be here when I come
back, as I dare say I shall soon get tired of a quiet
life of that sort."
Mr. Luttrel said all this with the most imper-
turbable sang froid, as he sat leaning back in his
chair, while Celia listened with heightened colour
and flashing eyes to this deliberate dismissal.
"What!" she exclaimed, "am I to be dis-
missed, paid off, sent away like a servant like a
CLARA FANE. 97
slave, to be taken back at pleasure after all my
expectations and your assurances ? Am I to be
trampled on, injured, insulted in this way, and
do you think I will bear it \"
" I can't well see how you can avoid it," said
Luttrel in the same tone.
"You are going to Italy are you!" almost
screamed Celia ; " yes, to see that girl again for
you care no more for your children than you do
for me ; you will try all your arts to deceive her
also, and if she is such an idiot as I have been,
she will be your victim too. But go where you
will I will follow you. I will dodge, and watch,
and persecute you, and I will take care that no
one of your acquaintances and friends shall be-
lieve you to be better than you are. As for your
paltry provision I disdain it. I have no want of
lovers and though I refused them for your sake
till now, I tell you plainly that the affection I had
for you is so entirely at an end that I will go oft
with the very first that offers."
" This girl is full of spirit after all !" laughed
Luttrel, as Celia dashed past him, and ran out of
the room, banging the door furiously after her ;
" but she carries it too far I am bored with her
jealousy and suspicion. One might as well be
absolutely married mats que voulez vous ! whei?
a man has attractions ! She is too wise to do as
VOL. III. P
98 CLARA FANE.
she threatens," he continued ; " lovers are ready
enough with offers when they see no chance of
their being accepted."
Saying this he lounged to the table where
Celia had left several open notes, which he made
no scruple of glancing at.
" Really," exclaimed he, " I did her injustice,
and thought she attracted no eyes but my own.
This is piquante she has lovers well, it will be
the more animating. I was beginning to be
horribly ennuye with the affair. Englishwomen
are so matter of fact."
While he was still turning over these billet-
doux which Celia had left avec intention, a visitor
was announced, and Mr. Luttrel, on looking
up, had to exert himself to welcome a friend,
which he did with remarkable animation for
him.
" Ah, my dear Clairmont," said he, extending
his hand ; " you are the best friend I have to
arrive at this moment, when domestic cares dis-
tress me."
" What," cried the young marquis, while the
colour rose in his cheeks, "are your daughters
with you in Paris ?"
" Good heavens, no ! " exclaimed Luttrel ;
" what can make you imagine that I would en-
cumber myself with two children. It is bad
CLARA FANE. 99
enough to have them belonging to one without
being a slave to their vicinity."
" I was in hopes they were," faltered the mar-
quis, evidently disappointed ; " it seems to me a
marvel that you don't keep such angelic creatures
always by your side. They would make any place
Paradise."
" You speak like a man in love," said Luttrel,
archly ; " to me the annoyance of children is
almost as bad as that of a wife."
" Our tastes are different," said the young
man : " I can conceive no happiness equal to a
domestic life."
" You cannot I see," said Luttrel, almost con-
temptuously, " throw off your country breeding
and be one of us ; you have always aspirations after
things which do not exist, and build paper castles
which the world with its reasonable breath soon
puffs away, as you will find when you live
in it."
"Where are your daughters now?" resumed
Lord Clairmont, willing to avoid expression to his
dissent from the opinions of his more experienced
friend.
" Oh, if you wish to know," replied Luttrel,
" you had better read Claudia's letter, which I
have just received; she writes so much and crosses
her letters, that it bores me I dare say you may
F 2
100 CLARA FANE.
find some interest which I can't in her childish
prate about mountains and waterfalls."
Clairmont took the letter offered him with
avidity, blushing as he did so.
" You can put it in your pocket and read it
at leisure," said Luttrel ; " but don't waste the
time now in poring over her baby-talk. Come
with me in the Bois de Boulogne, we shall meet
all the world at this hour, and I have an assigna-
tion there, by the by, which T had nearly for-
gotten."
So saying, the father started up, and glancing
at himself in the glass as he passed it, left the
room, followed by the lover, who, before he put
the precious letter in his waistcoat pocket near
his heart, pressed it to his lips.
Mr. Luttrel, with all his affectation of care-
lessness, was, however, by no means indifferent to
the prospect of the marquis's alliance, of which
he saw a very fair chance. That he admired
Claudia, he could not doubt, and he fully in-
tended in every way to encourage the rising passion
he had observed, although he did so with every
appearance of total ignorance of its existence.
He knew that this was the_ most likely way to
excite the young nobleman the more, and thought
it infinitely the best policy, calculating on his own
feelings and experience of the world.
CLARA. FANE. 101
Lord Clairmont was the possessor of large
and unincumbered estates : he was just of age,
was quite new to the world, full of what Mr.
Luttrel looked upon as rococco notions of propriety
and morality, and, having been brought up by a
judicious mother with extraordinary care, had so
few of the faults of his class and age, that a
more eligible match for Claudia could scarcely be
imagined.
" If I get these girls off my hands soon,"
thought the father, " 1 shall be at liberty they
are a sad clog : my losses at play must be repaired
by a rich marriage, and as their fortunes cannot
be touched, thanks to their mother's ill-natured
suspicions of me, the sooner I am debarrasse of
those pretty playthings the better. To get them
off before they are brought out will be the thing,
as then I need not hear the word ' papa ' at every
turn, proclaiming to the world that I am not as
young as my appearance warrants however, that is
good enough for success yet/' he added, surveying
his figure and handsome face, a son ordinaire,
with complaisance.
Lord Clairmont that day took little interest
in the proceedings of the Jockie Club or in the
flirtations of his friends in the Bois de Boulogne ;
his thoughts were intent on the treasure confided
to him, and his heart beat stronger against those
102 CLARA FANE.
thin folds of paper in which the sentiments of the
young creature, for whom his preference grew in
absence, were expressed .
Clairmont, although as gay and apparently
volatile as any young man of his age, was a rare
specimen of a man of fashion, unspoilt by oppor-
tunity and bad example. His associates were no
better than the usual run of dissipated roues
about town, whose occupations are limited to the
search after excitement who appear in the Om-
nibus-box at the Opera, and offer to the assembled
house a picture of ill-manners and levity con-
spicuously disgusting. Yet he passed through all
these scenes without a stain upon his mind, and
he had not learnt to hold virtue and innocence in
contempt, or to take delight in low society or low
scenes.
Most of his fashionable associates would have
been shocked had they seen him after he had re-
entered his lodgings on this day, take out Claudia's
letter, almost with reverence, and sit himself down
to enter into the secrets she imparted to her
father.
"Luttrel is not worthy of such a child,"
thought he, " and I feel as if I had scarcely a
right to take his place and make myself ac-
quainted with those beautiful thoughts which
awaken no interest in his mind. He can scarcely
CLARA FANE. 103
have opened the letter, for here in one of the
folds are leaves which she has marked as having
been gathered in the woods near Ischl. She has
then been wandering in that romantic region
which I hope one day to see would that I could
visit it with such a companion !"
The letter, which he read several times with
delight, ran as follows :
" Dear, darling Papa, Why do you not write
to us ? You grow more good-for-nothing every
day at every town we ask for letters Lady Sey-
mour gets shoals, Miss Fane many, even Clark
has faithful correspondents, but Sybilla and I
clamour in vain at the post-office/scold the clerks,
insist upon there being a letter from our papa,
and are obliged to be content with stupid mes-
sages sent through somebody else to auntie. All
we know is that you are well, and now in Paris,
which is so much the nearer us, and we are sure
you will come to us directly we arrive at Como,
so we are impatient to be there and get^ settled;
then you will come and stay with us, and we will
play to you, and read to you, and amuse you, so
that you will not leave us again. We are some-
times half afraid you do not love us; but that
cannot be, it is only that you are so idle.
" Now you shall know what we have done
since we left those lovely mountains at Ischl. I
104 CLARA FANE.
told you of having lost Ludwig, who used to tell
us stories and teach us German; but we shall
learn in earnest now, for Count Altheim seems to
me to speak better, and he is so pleased to teach
us ; he knows such a number of poems, and
Sybilla says he has the sweetest voice in the
world. He is extremely handsome, and so amiable,
you will like him of all things, only we are afraid
he will leave for Milan with Sir Anselm, because
his mother is there, and turns out to be a sister-
in-law of Sir A's."
Lord Clairmont sighed.
" Alas !" thought he, " I have no chance, I
fear : this Count of whom she writes so tenderly
is no doubt captivating yet a German ! can she
prefer him ? I was wrong not to have followed
them directly ; I was wrong to have lost sight of
my treasure another will perhaps steal it from
me!"
He went on reading.
" We had a long, pleasant day's journey from
Ischl to Salzburg. We stopped some time at the
little village of St. Gilgen, opposite St. Wolfgang,
and saw the charming lake, and another called
Fuschl, quite enchanting. The mountain of Schaff-
berg is very grand and fine, but scarcely as much
so as those we had left behind, and I began to
CLARA FANE. 105
fear we had taken leave of the best, but YOU shall
hear how we were surprised afterwards.
" We were overtaken by rain when approach-
ing Salzberg, and drove first to one hotel and
then to another unable to find accommodation for
all our party. There was some great business going
on, and every room in every hotel was occupied ; at
last we got into the strangest dungeon of an hotel
you ever saw ; but we have been entertained
running up and down the great stone staircase
ever since, followed by a little waiter who speaks
every language under the sun, I believe.
" It is so odd in Germany ! at every inn there
is a little waiter, not more than fifteen, who is the
factotum of the house, and is generally quite a
duck! so good-natured and quick; we like this
one the best of any; he seems so glad to run
about with us, even if everybody else is neglected.
Imagine our dining in a tower with a vaulted-roof
and round pillars in the centre of the room to
support it, evidently a very ancient chapel; we
are sure this hotel has been a monastry, but Miss
Fane says we are grown such antiquaries that we
say that of every house we come to; the truth is,
all the houses are more like caves scooped out of a
rock than the usual dwellings of man no end
to long passages and large, dark rooms. From
our bedroom, for instance, we observed in a recess
F 3
CLARA FANE.
a gleam beyond, and, climbing up on a chair, we
saw a strange sight, and thought we had got into
some wizard's retreat. There was a sort of grotto,
the roof covered with stone icicles, blocks of stone
piled here and there, and a little candle burning
before an altar ; presently a door opened at the
other end, and a dwarf female came in, without
the slightest noise, and crept along the floor to
this altar, where she knelt down and began mak-
ing the most extraordinary grimaces, and after
that up she got and disappeared as noiselessly as
she had entered. As we did not like the idea of
her coming in the night and peering at us, we
made Guilia pile up the horrid down coverlids
under which one is expected to sleep, so as to
block up the view into our room.
" In spite of the rain of the first night we
were able to go out next morning, when the heat
and brilliancy of the sun were almost intolerable.
The great hero of Salzburg it seems is Paracelsus,
about whom Sir Anselm has a great deal to say,
but as yet we are by no means acquainted with
him, except by his picture, which does not make
us desire to know him more; it is ugly enough,
painted outside the house where he lived, just
over the old bridge. We saw his tomb afterwards
and went scrambling about over half-a-dozen of
the strangest churches that ever were seen, with
CLARA FANE. 107
cloisters covered with tombs all over walls and
floors ; and some with extraordinary churchyards,
under overhanging rocks, having sculptured tombs,
quite unique in their kind, but really by no means
beautiful, so we were glad to get away from them.
" The town is hideous, with great, coarse, ugly
buildings, which the inhabitants call fine ! Their
taste is the most savage one can conceive, to be
satisfied with the frightful blocks one sees every-
where : we laughed at the fountain, which the
guide-books tell you to admire such sprawling
figures oh, how unlike dear Italy ! but the
scenery, the mountains ! those are splendid indeed
the natives may be proud of them !
"We went through a black cavern out of a
street ; it is cut in one of the rocks which seem
to save walls in Salzburg but every now and then
they fall down, and crush a whole quarter of the
town : this cavern led, by steps up and down and
in and out, up the Monchberg, nineteen hundred
feet high, but a mere molehill to those in the
midst of which it stands, and insignificant com-
pared to the countless ranges of Alps spreading
out into the distance as far as you can see. The
castle stands finer, on the top of this mountain
above the town, than it is possible to fancy, over-
looking the country for leagues, and placed on a
perpendicular rock, rising up like an enormous
108 CLARA FANE.
pyramid above the great town below. We were
in raptures of delight to sit about on the platform
of this mountain, and tried to sketch a panorama
of what we saw : turn which way you will, Alps
rise over Alps long vallies with vistas of Alps
run away from a large plain below in every direc-
tion, and we rejoiced to hear that our way to
Berchtesgaden, where we hope soon to go, is
down one of these vallies : we shall be lost in the
clouds there.
" I wrote this yesterday, after returning from
the Mb'uchberg, and only pity us ! this morning
when Guilia came to wake us, she said that not
a mountain was to be seen, all was one mass of
fog, and the rain was descending in a waterspout.
We looked from one window and there we had
evidence enough of our captivity the river had
overflowed, as it is fond of doing whenever it has
an opportunity and had inundated the whole of
the lower part of the town : as our hotel is close
to the river, the great square was turned into a
lake, and people were paddling along from door
to door in boats. Such a scene ! even the Ger-
mans laughed ! but we were ready to cry, for the
deluge continued the whole day, and we were
tired of looking out and hoping it would clear.
" Towards evening the sun burst forth on a
sudden and produced the most unbelievable effects.
CLARA FANE. 109
Clark said everything was out of drawing and in
wrong perspective; the castle broke out of a
cloud and stood alone, no bigger than a child's
toy on the top of the church steeple above the
houses, in a wreath of fog ; this was on one hand,
on the other gleamed forth an enormous monas-
tery, in exactly the same style, so that they
looked like figures in a magic-lantern passing be-
fore ones eyes; presently their bases began to
show, and by and by the mists cleared off, and
the mountains they stood on were visible enough.
" "We lost no time, but all rushed out, avoid-
ing the worst streets of this always dirty town,
and getting on the heights, saw a splendid sun-
set, and the weeping, angry mountains in all
sorts of confusion, battling with the blue sky
and the clouds, with the mist and the sun-gleams ;
but the sun got the better, and to-morrow we
shall, they say, be able to set out for Berchtes-
gaden, where the Count now is, and chamois
shooting is going on.
' Lebt wohl, bester Vater !' "
" Ah," sighed the young marquis, as he re-
placed the letter next his heart, intending always
to forget to return it to Mr. Luttrel, " would I
were her companion in these rambles ! would I
might be so some day \"
110 CLARA FANE.
CHAPTER VIII.
Is this the gallant, gay Lothario ?
Fair Penitent.
WHEN Mr. Luttrel returned from his ride in the
Bois de Boulogne to his lodgings, not with any
intention of seeking the society of Celia, but
merely to dress, in order to join some friends at
dinner at the Trois Freres Provenyaux, he was
surprised to hear that a change had taken place
in his establishment, that no vestige was to be
found of the lady who had hitherto shared his
retreat, and that a message had been left by her
with his valet, coolly informing him that she had
no intention of returning.
He received the information without emotion,
and proceeded with his toilet, making occasional
observations to his attendant.
" Madame did not then indicate to what part of
CLARA FANE. Ill
the globe she had winged her flight?" said he,
carelessly.
The answer was in the negative. She had
left the house in a citadine, and has given orders
to be driven to the apartments of the Comte de
Tirlemont; her maid had accompanied her, and
she had taken a few articles of dress and her
desk only.
Mr. Luttrel finished his toilet and went out
as he had intended. The Comte de Tirlemont
was precisely one of the guests he expected to
meet at dinner; he was a man of the highest
fashion in Paris, young, handsome, and married,
but separated about a year from a young
English wife, who had brought him a for-
tune, all of which he had spent, except a portion
settled on herself.
He regulated the ton in dress, amusements,
and manners, and it was to him that Celia had
resolved to fly, because she knew it would be the
most mortifying thing she could do to Luttrel
who, naturally envious of younger men than him-
self, particularly wished to outshine the Count.
"When they met at a fraternal dinner on the
same day, it was, however, with the utmost in-
difference, and not a word relative to the lady was
exchanged : the party, who were all confirmed
gamblers, afterwards adjourned to a celebrated
112 CLARA FANE.
gaming-house, and the interest of the game seemed
entirely to occupy all minds. Luttrel had often
won and lost large sums to the Count, and on
this evening the luck seemed all on the side of
his adversary ; at last he staked a very large sum,
and after a little wavering of Fortune her scale
turned in favour of the Comte de Tirlemont, and
Mr. Luttrel found himself a loser to a larger than
usual amount.
" You are in a bad vein to-day," said the con-
queror. " I am really ashamed to clear out your
purse, as well as your house, so completely ; but I
have relieved you from a little expense in the
article of la belle Celia, therefore you owe me
some acknowledgment. Poor thing ! she has
such a fine heart ! I am quite unhappy to de-
prive you of so good a nurse for your gout."
Mr. Luttrel reddened.
"Your are singularly considerate," said he with
contempt, " and I not less so. I do not wish her
to starve, and hope my c mtributionto the establish-
ment will prevent that catastrophe, till similar good
throws replenish the coffers of her present adorer."
" Am 1 to understand," said the Count quickly,
that you consider my means are always thus re-
cruited ?"
" You have studied the value of English gold
like the rest of your countrymen/' said Mr. Luttrel.
CLARA FAXE. 113
" What other instruction can we expect to
gain in the society of a nation of shopkeepers \"
sneered the Count.
" It is a pity our shops are not safe from pick-
pockets," retorted Mr. Luttrel.
" Pickpockets !" exclaimed the Count ; " do
you apply that term to me ?"
" To any man who uses mean arts to seduce
another's mistress and who knows? perhaps to
empty his pockets too."
The quantity of champagne consumed at the
Trois Provenjaux at the dinner of that day had,
unfortunately, been in accordance with the cus-
tom of late years adopted by the Anglo-Gallic
members of the Jockie Club, and while it had
served considerably to excite the spirits of the
unconcerned, had had the effect of irritating the
tempers of the rivals. Luttrel was piqued, mor-
tified, and annoyed at his losses, while the Count
had been listening for some hours to Celia's ex-
aggerated accounts and revelations of the contempt
in which her late friend held him and all his
countrymen. Her anger and excitement had
been wrought to a pitch of fury by Luttrel' s con-
temptuous and indifferent conduct, and she neither
considered nor foresaw the consequences of her
imprudence.
A quarrel was, therefore, at this moment a
114 CLARA FANE.
natural consequence of these circumstances, and
before the two gentlemen parted a hostile meet-
ing in the Champ Elysees was arranged for the
next day.
Meantime, the young Marquis of Clairmont
was occupied re-reading the letter of Claudia,
and building the most delightful castles for the
future of love and happiness.
" If," thought he, " I am so fortunate as to
succeed in gaining the affections of this charming
girl, what a prospect is mine. She is all candour
and artlessness ; a perfect child of Nature, al-
though placed in a high sphere : accomplished,
refined, yet frank and open; beautiful and grace-
ful, and with a mind full of all the generous and
tender feelings belonging to her extreme youth.
Surely her father will raise no objection ? It is
strange that he has not observed my devotion
To herself alone will I look for a decision I will
not allow my rank or worldly advantages to sway
her. I will not gain his consent first I will try
my fortune with the charming Claudia herself."
He continued to indulge for some time in this
agreeable strain of reverie, when a violent ringing
of the bell of his apartments roused him, and
presently his valet entered with a perturbed
aspect, announcing an English friend.
" Good heavens, Morton ! " exclaimed the
CLARA FANE. 115
Marquis, " what is the matter ? you look
scared."
"Matter enough/' was his friend's reply;
" Luttrel is severely wounded in a duel with
Tirlemont it is feared mortally come with me
instantly; he is still alive, and may have some
communication to make. He asks for you. It
is a sad business altogether. I fear there is no
hope."
Clairmont turned very pale as he replaced the
precious letter in his bosom, and hastened to ac-
company his friend to Mr. Luttrel's hotel.
The scene that met him there was melancholy
in the extreme : a confused party of friends and
acquaintances were assembled in an outer room,
and within, extended on a sofa attended by several
surgeons, lay the unfortunate man, whose pale
and worn countenance showed how much he was
suffering.
At the moment Clairmont entered the room,
he uttered a sharp cry of pain, occasioned by the
effects of the efforts which the surgical attendants
were making to extract the ball which had pene-
trated his shoulder, and he had immediately after-
wards fainted from agony. Clairmont thought
that he was dead, from his ghastly appearance,
and a shudder of horror ran through his frame :
after some powerful applications, however, the
116 CLARA FANE.
sufferer returned to consciousness, and looking
wildly round preceived him ; he made an attempt
to reach out his hand, which the Marquis hast-
ened to press, and leaning over him entreated to
know if he could execute any commands he de-
sired to give.
" They think me dying then/' said Luttrel in a
faint voice ; " as well that as live a mutilated object.
I will not submit to lose my arm, which I hear them
prating about. My poor girls," he almost whis-
pered ; " I have not neglected them either they
are well provided for, and " he was unable to
proceed for some minutes.
"Can I may I do anything for you for
them ?" said Clairmont.
" Claudia is very young/' continued the dying
man, "but take care of her."
He could utter nothing more, and sunk back
exhausted. Clairmont did not leave his bed-side
during the three days that he lingered in pain
and on the fourth received his last sigh, but he
had never been able to speak after his last men-
tion of his children.
On the first knowledge of his danger the
Marquis had written to Lady Seymour, giving
little hopes of his recovery ; he had addressed the
letter to Salzburg with the hope of its reaching
the family there, but the sad event of Luttrel's
CLARA FANE. 117
death occurring so soon after it was dispatched he
felt that it would be better for him to set out im-
mediately for Italy, hoping to arrive at Como,
where he nevertheless also wrote, as he thought it
probable he might reach that place in person as
ss soon as any communication he could send, and
there he hoped to find them.
The sudden change, from life, gaiety, and
carelessness, to the gloom and oblivion of the
grave, was so striking and fearful, that he was, at
first almost overwhelmed with the shock ; but the
recollection of the grief of the bereaved orphans
restored him to himself, and he exerted all the
energy of his mind, never before called into simi-
lar action, in order that he might be able to go
through the task he imposed on himself.
He set out, therefore, with a heavy heart, yet
with a hope lingering in the midst of his uneasi-
ness which pointed to Claudia and the future
unattended by sorrow.
He chose the route of Mont Cenis as the
readiest, and, travelling as rapidly as possible, ar-
rived at Milan, having scarcely allowed himself a
night's rest. He remained there to sleep and
proposed taking the railroad the next morning to
complete his journey. He had scarcely entered
the saloon to take some refreshment when an ex-
118 CLARA FANE.
clamation in English caused him to look towards
the speaker, and he recognised Mr. Loftus.
Their meeting was very cordial, and the young
Marquis felt a sensation of satisfaction in the cir-
cumstance, for his spirits were beginning to fail
him as he approached the spot where he was but
too well aware his presence would cast a fearful
gloom over the lighthearted and enjoying party
he was seeking. His gratitude was therefore the
greater when Edmond Loftus at once proposed
returning on his steps and accompanying him to
Como.
" I cannot inform you whether the party are
arrived," said he, "for I came myself through
Switzerland by the Simplon I fear not for the
beauties of the Salzburg vallies seemed to tempt
them on, and my last letters from Sir Anselm
were from thence. We shall do well however to
wait for them at Como as they cannot delay long
now. This terrible tragedy will be hard for those
young creatures to hear, but they have two friends
with them likely to support their courage : Miss
Fane, although but little their senior, is able to
afford them great consolation, and Sir Anselm will
attend to their well-being in every way; it is
most fortunate that he accompanied them, as that
selfish Lady Seymour is not to be trusted in any
CLARA FANE. 119
way, and would be more likely to fly from a scene
of sorrow than to endeavour to soothe their feel-
ings. She has, in fact, left the party for Vienna,
intending to join them hereafter ; I suppose she
wished to get rid of the first trouble of arranging
an establishment, and will come back when she
thinks she can enjoy its conveniences."
" What age do you take the two young ladies
to be ?" asked Clairmont, timidly.
" I heard Sir Anselm say," replied Loftus, not
without a slight hesitation, "that Claudia had
nearly reached her sixteenth, and Sybilla her fif-
teenth, year. They are lovely and amiable, and
the most unspoilt creatures I have ever seen. It
is a pity that the world will draw them into its
vortex, and, under the guidance of such a woman
as Lady Seymour, their fate will doubtless be that
of hundreds of others, full of the fairest promise
and blighted in the bud."
" I hope not," said Clairmont, eagerly, " why
should this be ? why should they not both meet
a better fate than that ?"
" Because they belong to a class whence sim-
plicity and innocence are banished as soon as pos-
sible, and vanity and ambition supply the place of
all good feeling," said Loftus, bitterly ; " because
women are weak and unstable as water and retain
no impressions."
120 CLARA FANE.
" My belief is very different from yours/'
answered Clairmont ; " I have lived much, indeed
always, till lately, amongst women, and I have
seen far more to admire and respect in their cha-
racters than in those of our own sex, taken as a
whole. I shall never subscribe to your opinions
in this respect I would rather convert you to
mine."
" I would you could," said Loftus, sighing, " I
should be much the happier."
" Now," pursued the young Marquis, " in the
sad instance before us, poor Luttrel, whose loss
we lament from the circumstances attending his
fate, offered no example to any of us either as
husband or father, nor was he, as a friend, either
faithful or generous; he was, in fact, I fear, very
profligate and unscrupulous in his conduct. That
wretched woman for whom he has thrown away
his life, was, I hear betrayed from her home by
him, and only shared the fate of many. Look on
the picture on the other hand presented by his
amiable wife, beloved by all who knew her, a pat-
tern of gentleness and endurance, dying of a
broken heart look at her lovely children, surely
they might redeem their class."
" You are an enthusiast," said Loftus, smiling,
" but you lean, perhaps, to the best side ; it is
happier to trust even too much than be ever
CLARA FANE. 121
picious fears ; I wish I had your youthful aspira-
tions."
" You are not so many years older, said Clair-
niont, " as to have a right to loose them, and I look
forward to your agreeing with me entirely some
day in acknowledging the superiority of women.
We owe them too much to be ungrateful."
VOL, III.
122 CLARA FANE.
CHAPTER IX.
Es weht
Ein Schauer vom Gewolb 'herab
Uud fasst inicli an !
lavst.
" Now, my darling Miss Fane," said Sybilla, one
day to her governess, " can you imagine the possi-
bility of any people being happier than we are at
present ? don't pretend to say the contrary : first
of all, auntie Seymour has disappeared and left us
to our devices ; Ludwig with his grave face and
ugly student's dress is gone ; Clark is carried off,
so he does not tease us about drawing \ and you and
Sir Anselm are ready to indulge us in everything ;
Count Altheim is the most goodnatured of all
goodnatured creatures ; and we five are enjoying
everything it is possible to wish for. Our weather
is as if made on purpose, our mountains are clear
as if cut out against the sky, our flowers are
CLARA FANE. 123
bright as jewels, our lakes like silver, and our-
selves charming ! "
" You vain thing ! " exclaimed Claudia, " who
said you were one of the charming ! Yes, I do
believe we are happy people, and really I often
wonder why there is so much said about the
misery of the world ; I am almost sixteen and I
have seen very little but happiness I do not
know what gloom means, except," she added,
suddenly checking herself, "to be sure I am
sad sometimes, because dear papa will not write,
and because he is not with us we should be hap-
pier if he were here, shouldn't we, Sybilla ? "
" Yes," replied her sister, " but then he likes
to stay in Paris and does not care about moun-
tains, so we ought not to want him away. I dare
say he is gay enough, we need not fret about
him."
" I am going to write him such a letter, when
we get to Como ! " said Claudia, " he cannot
resist coming, and then I shall even be happier
than now."
This conversation went on while the three
were sitting at Berchtesgaden on a wooden bench
placed on one of the long galleries which are
made for the convenience of the workmen, by the
side of the huge pipes which convey the brine
from the salt works to its destination.
G 2
124 CLARA FANE.
These pipes and galleries may be followed for
a long distance, sometimes along the surface of a
perpendicular rocky mountain which overlooks
some of the most beautiful scenery in Europe,
and sometimes through charming woods and
across luxuriant meadows. The walks and drives
in all directions in the neighbourhood of this Ba-
varian hunting retreat are singularly agreeable,
leading to spots of the most sublime as well as
the most rural character.
The little town lies in an irregular and pic-
turesque manner in a valley, through which
meanders the foaming and restless mountain
stream of the Albe, forming a series of cascades
in its course. Hundreds of mountains crowd
round this spot, with several more stupendous
than the rest overpowering their brethren by
their superior magnificence. Above all, the mon-
arch of this region, rises the awful guardian of
the passes, the glorious Watzman, with his forked
peaks covered with eternal snow, yielding to no
mountain in Europe for exquisite form of outline
and grandeur of effect.
There are times in the valley when this stern
watcher makes himself so visible as to appear
rising immediately above the village, at others he
recedes and cloaks himself in white clouds : in
moonlight he comes forth occasionally in all his
CLARA FANE. 125
melancholy glory, like a deposed monarch lifting
his crowned head amidst a new and shadowy world
where his sway is recognised. Cold, calm, and
solemn, lie the moonbeams on the lakes of ice and
fields of snow which extend between the peaks of
his summit, and the midnight gazer who stands
watching their immoveable forms almost shudders
as he imagines that he is looking into a region sa-
cred to death, where neither warmth nor breath is,
and from whence those who have once arrived
return no more.
Even the lively spirits of the youthful sisters,
animated by day in the contemplation of these
gigantic forms shining in the sun and piercing
a cloudless blue sky, were saddened by the awful
change which moonlight made on the scene, and
gazed silently on the countless giants which sup-
port the throne of this icy king of terrors, in a
region which Nature has made during her winter
reign an abode of uninterrupted solitude, sublime
in its unimaginable loneliness, and where at night
when the last lingering fire-hues of day have left
the lately glowing mountains, she calls up all the
spectres of a land of secrets and paints a picture
of unspeakable dread.
The party lingered for some time amongst
these magnificent scenes, unable to resolve to
quit them : varying the enjoyment by visits to the
126 CLARA FANE.
lonely lakes which lie embosomed amidst their
deep recesses, and seeking for the secret foun-
tains where the mighty cataracts come raving
from the rocks.
One of those which peculiarly attracted them
was the wondrous fall of the Waldbach, one of
the most appalling in its character and gloomy
in its position they had seen. The drive to it
from Berchtesgaden is over hills of lofty pines, by
a road singularly steep on the heights, and leading
through deep vallies which seem almost impervious
to the light.
They left their carriage on a wild waste, and
climbed for nearly an hour a steep, barren hill by
the side of the roaring flood, which was rushing
towards the valley from a bed of black rocks lost
far in the distant heights.
When the highest part of the hill was reached
they rested a little on a bank overlooking the
torrent, and were so much struck by its sublimity
that they pronounced it scarcely possible to be
exceeded ; as, however, they advanced and the
ravine of black stone grew narrower and closer,
they felt that each step they took the beautiful
horror was increasing.
Even along the surface of these stupendous
rocks extend those marvellous pipes which in-
tersect the whole country and carry the precious
CLARA FANE. 127
salt from one valley to another across heights
apparently inaccessible even to the foot of the
chamois ; yet Commerce, that genius at the wave
of whose wand rocks and mountains sink down,
has planed a way for herself amongst these defiles,
and, obedient to her command, the whole rock
from its summit to its base is cut in steps and
divided in platforms, the whole guarded by strong
balustrades of timber, capable of defying the fury
of the devastating rains and overflowing torrents
which sweep down from above. Sometimes in
winter these barriers give way, and every season
they require renewing in order that no interrup-
tion may take place in the transport of the salt :
several hundred workmen are immediately em-
ployed on these occasions, and the ravages of the
inimical elements are made to disappear.
Claudia, holding the arm of Sir Anselm, ad-
vanced first up this defile the Count had given
his arm to Sybilla, and Clara depended on their
guide for support on the slippery ascent, which
they all reached in safety, arriving at the very
highest extremity of the pass, from whence they
looked down on a scene of surpassing grandeur.
On one side the boiling torrent came dashing
over countless rocks, and thundered down the black
ravine, shaking the blocks that hemmed in its pro-
gress ; on the other, far below, the waters lay in a
128 CLARA FANE.
clear blue lake, perfectly calm, and reposing in
the sun ; this small lake was formed by the ar-
rested current of a silver stream, which came
dancing from a remote source along a gently
inclining valley on a height bordered by higher
hills, all pointed and jagged against the sky. The
valley, hanging as it were in air, extended very
far into the distance and was lost amongst the
meeting snow-covered mountains which closed the
vista.
They advanced for a considerable distance
along this vale, fording in many places the shallow
stream which had lately broken its bounds and
had, only a few days before, shattered all the little
wooden bridges along its course. Every here and
there it formed itself into jets and waterfalls,
and covered them with spray as they passed ; at
last the guide's warning voice bade them return,
for the peaks of the rocks behind them were
beginning to be veiled in clouds, and a low growl
along the valley announced the rising of the
wind.
A small rain now descended, and they turned
to retrace their steps and soon reached the gallery
from whence the finest view of the fall is obtained :
they began the perilous-looking descent, which
threatened to become really so in consequence of
the slippery masses of rock they had to cross,
CLARA FANE. 129
down which the rain now poured in a suddenly
loosened torrent, while every rock and peak re-
echoed to the instantaneously awakened thunder.
The guide recommended their sheltering them-
selves for a time till the first fury of the storm
was spent, in a hollowed part of the rock, usually
employed at similar moments by the workmen,
and here they all crouched down, endeavouring
to screen themselves from the blasts which came
whistling and howling down the black abyss,
urging the white-crested waters to still more
desperate leaps amongst the impeding crags.
The cry of a vulture was heard above them,
and its dismal scream was repeated by every
cavern ; the guide turned round to Claudia, who
stood close to him and exclaimed
" That cry tells of a death the Lammergeyer
never cries but when some soul departs he is
always an ill-omened bird."
Claudia shrunk back and, impressed with
sudden terror, threw herself into Clara's arms
and burst into tears. They all pressed round her
soothing and exhorting her to have courage, for
the danger was nothing, and she recovered her
spirits almost instantly.
" I am not frightened at the storm," she
said, " but a sudden horror came over me. Let
G 3
130 CLARA FANE.
us go on it is better to face the rain than to stay
in this hideous cavern it smells like a grave."
" You are not afraid of Barbarossa and all his
knights, are you ?" said Count Altheim, wishing
to change her thoughts : " he is said at times to
make excursions in these mountains, and is heard,
not seen, for he and his court are all imprisoned
during the existence of the present world, beneath
the Untersberg, which we passed from Salzburg ;
it is believed that their subterranean hunting-
grounds extend for leagues, and the cries of their
dogs and the sound of their horses' hoofs can be
distinctly heard at times, and probably at this
moment in this very spot."
By the time they had reached the last slippery
step of the ravine the transient storm was over;
the raving of the wind had ceased, a bright
rainbow was spanning the valley below, and they
re-entered their carriage and drove back to Ber-
chtesgaden by one of the softest and most lovely
afternoons they had had since their arrival.
CLARA FANE. 131
CHAPTER IX.
Alack, alack for woe,
That any harm should stain so fair a show !
Richard II.
IN the midst of the paradise of Lake Como lies
the promontory of Balbiano, crowned with what
seem temples that might well be dedicated to the
fairest goddess that Grecian imagination could
create ; they are, however, only villas which for-
tunate individuals can inhabit "for a considera-
tion," and it was one of these that was possessed
by Mr. Luttrel, but had been long neglected
since the death of his wife, who had been fond of
the beautiful retreat and spent many of her soli-
tary hours there.
It had lately been newly arranged and repaired,
and the villa appeared in all the attractions of
newly chiseled marble, newly suspended draperies
132 CLARA FANE.
and newly decorated gardens, full of statues and
flowers. Nothing could exceed the charming
aspect presented therefore, when on a bright
morning of early autumn a boat from Colico, at
the further end of the lake, brought the travellers
to the marble steps of their palace-like villa.
A whole grove of roses, mixing with clematis
and orange-flowers, waved a welcome with their
perfumed arms as they twined round the dazzling
white colonnades, through \vhich the sisters and
their party passed to the open marble hall, where
they paused in admiration at its grace and light-
ness.
The first words of Claudia as she entered and
looked around her, were
" Dear papa ! how kind of him to have all so
beautifully arranged for us ! How happy we shall
all be here !"
She had scarcely spoken when a servant ap-
proached and presented a letter to Sir Anselm,
which he opened at once, recognising the hand of
Mr. Loftus ; as he read it the expression of his
countenance changed, and he became very pale.
Instead of following the young ladies, who had
hurried into the open chambers which formed a
vista from the hall, he turned hastily round and
ordered his servant to detain the boat which had
CLARA FANE. 133
brought them from the steamer, as he required it
to row instantly to Como.
Clara had observed his agitation on reading
the letter, and had lingered behind her pupils,
who had now disappeared with Count A.ltheim
into the furthest chamber, which opened to a
terrace overlooking the lake on the other side.
" What has occurred Sir Anselm ?" exclaimed
she; "some bad news, I fear you look dis-
tressed."
"My dear Miss Fane," replied he, "I fear
something unfortunate has happened to Mr.
Luttrel, in Paris. Edmond Loftus and Lord
Clairmont wait to see me at Como. The few
words contained in this note are alarming. Pre-
pare those poor children to hear of their father's
illness accident I know not what. I must
hasten to ascertain the truth, and will return as
speedily as possible."
So saying he pressed her hand, crushed the
note into his pocket and hastening down the steps
was instantly in a boat, whose rowers were exert-
ing the greatest activity to bear him on towards
Como.
The sisters had, meanwhile, been flying from
terrace to terrace, and had reached a little marble
temple about half-way down the declivity of the
gardens, where they suddenly paused in surprise
134 CLARA FANE.
as the boat in which they recognised Sir Anselm
shot past the point, near which they stood.
" What can Sir Anselm mean by quitting us
at once \" exclaimed Claudia, " look Sybilla, his
head rests on his hand as if he was thinking
deeply he does not look towards us how
strange !"
" He is doubtless going to Como in your ser-
vice/' said Count Altheim, " it is not far, and he
will be returned by the time your extacies are
past."
"Oh," cried Sybilla, "mine will never end
while we stay in this enchanting spot. Look at
the myrtles and pomegranates, the oranges and
the trellices of grapes the jasmines and the
waving acacias like our gardens at Fulham ; but
then how much more lovely this blue sky is, and
this sweet lake, and all the snow mountains shining
in the sun. Oh, Count Altheim, shouldn't you
like to live here with us ? do ask your mamma
to come and see us, and you can bring her. I
should like everyone we love to be here."
Altheim blushed redder than the pomegranate
flowers, and his hand trembled as he gathered a
rose and presented it. At that moment Clara
came up to them and they flew to meet her. Her
face was so grave and sad that they both stopped
and looked wistfully at her for a moment, but the
CLARA FANE. 135
excitement of their spirits prevented their attri-
buting her gravity to anything but fatigue.
" Poor darling," said Claudia, " she is tired
after the long journey we shall have plenty of
time to enjoy all this I will go with you and act
housekeeper directly and put you comfortably
into your room it shall be the prettiest there is
in the whole villa, and we will fix on papa's and
our own."
"Yes, come with me, dear Claudia," said
Clara, " and let us be grave and calm : the
brightest suns in the world may become clouded,
and we must never trust to their brilliancy nor
suffer ourselves to be carried away by the sense of
enjoyment. Recollect, that we know not but
that, at this moment, some . person not far from
us, in one of these lovely villages of palaces, may
be suffering from sickness, may require aid, and
is there to prove that there is no such thing as
happiness on earth."
" Have you heard of anyone suffering ?" said
Claudia, as they walked through the suite of
rooms which she now scarcely regarded, "you
look so grave."
" I am uneasy not to find letters from your
papa," said Clara, "that makes me serious per-
haps. I thought he would have written to welcome
you here."
136 CLARA FANE.
"Oh, that's nothing," replied Claudia, "you
know he is incorrigible for that : but what has
Sir Anselm gone away forhe does not mean to
go off to Milan without saying good bye ?"
" No," said Clara, " he received some news
that distressed him, and is gone to Como at once
to hear it confirmed."
" Poor Sir Anselm !" cried Claudia, " I hope
there is nothing bad he has no near relations, I
think, to hear ill news of, but he is so kind to
everyone he would be shocked if any of his friends
were ill."
"Lord Clairmont and Mr. Loftus are at
Como," said Clara, " I think it is they who want
to see him."
" Lord Clairmont !" exclaimed Claudia, with
a blush, and turning a little away, " how singular
that we should see him so soon," then, as if a
sudden thought had struck her she clapped her
hands and cried out, "you are preparing a sur-
prise for us ! I see it now papa is with them !
Sir Anselm is gone to fetch him they will return
together !"
Clara could scarcely retain her tears as she
faltered " Dearest Claudia, you are mistaken
I fear you will not meet at present Mr. Luttrel
is not well, he has had some slight accident, I
believe, in Paris he cannot come yet."
CLARA FANE. 137
Claudia stood suddenly still and looked at
Clara with a face of anxiety.
" Do you know that he is ill, dear Miss Fane,
tell me alltell me "
She could not finish her speech, but burst
into tears.
Clara embraced her tenderly, and endeavoured
to comfort her.
" As yet/' said she, " I know nothing positive,
I fear some ill news awaits Sir Anselm, and I
wish you to be prepared to hear it calmly. This
is the time to prove to me that you can act with
resolution, and are no longer the careless child
you were when I first knew you. Your sister is
more like what you were then, and may require
your support in case of our hearing bad news :
the sorrows of some of us begin almost in our
infancy, we must endeavour to meet them as
becomes reasonable beings and be patient suf-
ferers."
" Oh !" sobbed Claudia, " there is something
dreadful to be known I am sure shall we tell
poor little Sybilla yet ? what shall we do ?"
"We will join her," said Clara, "and take an
opportunity of letting her know that something
is the matter. It grieved me to check your gay
spirits at such a happy moment, but we must not
138 CLARA FANE.
let her be taken by surprise either, if there is
really bad news in store."
When they returned to the garden they found
Sybilla sitting, crowned with roses which Count
Altheim had been gathering and weaving into a
garland for her luxuriant hair. He was laughing
joyously, and the merry voice of his interesting
companion echoed through the grove of cypresses
in which they sat, the dark branches throwing a
broad deep shadow on the path beneath, whilst
roses were twined round every stem and hung in
festoons amongst the sombre green.
It was a hard task to Clara to break the spell
of pleasure which surrounded the pair ; but when
she intimated her fears of Mr. LuttrePs illness
the flowers fell from the hands of Sybilla, and an
uneasy gloom took possession of her lately cheer-
ful countenance. The whole party, therefore,
returned to the house saddened and sorrowful,
and passed all the beautiful objects which had so
lately excited their admiration, without a glance
of notice.
To look from the windows and the terraces for
the arrival of the boat from Como, was now the
sole employ of all, and it was not long before the
approach of the steamer told that their friends
were near. A boat was waiting in the middle of
CLARA FANE. 139
the lake to receive Sir Anselm, who they observed
to part with two other gentlemen, and the steamer
continued its usual voyage, while Sir Anselm
drew to shore.
That first evening, at beautiful Como, was
passed in tears and agonised regrets ; for, by de-
grees, the truth was disclosed to the orphans,
although the manner of their father's death was
concealed from them. They understood that he
had died in consequence of an accident, and their
feelings were spared the shock of knowing that
he fell in a duel.
Claudia heard, after a few days, with more
interest than she had yet shown in anything since
the fatal news, that Lord Clairmont had been
with Mr. Luttrel at his death, and had heard his
last words and anxiety about his children. She
appeared to receive some consolation from this
circumstance, and his name in future created a
lively feeling of gratitude in her mind; she pro-
mised soon to see him and hear his account of
her father's last moments, and, by degrees, she
became more calm. The shock was greatly felt
by Sybilla, who was taken very ill and required
so much attendance and care, that both her sister
and Clara were fully occupied in their present
anxiety for her.
Sir Anselm left them, after a time, to follow
140 CLARA FANE.
Count Altheim, who was already gone to Milan,
and Clara and her changed pupils remained in
their beautiful and now lonely solitude, depressed
and sorrowing. Clara had received letters from
Vienna in answer to those which had informed
Lady Seymour of the catastrophe, in which that
lady's expressions of grief were vehement and
full of affection ; she was, she said, so overwhelmed
by the news that she found it impossible to travel
for some time, but would hasten to throw herself
into the arms of her beloved nieces the moment
her doctors gave her assurance that her life was
not endangered by following the dictates of her
feelings.
Clara felt relieved by this intimation which
promised them an interval of quiet repose, more
likely to restore their minds to a calmer tone;
for she felt sure that the presence of their
aunt would be no real balm to their wounded
hearts.
Sir Anselm, whom Mr. Luttrel had named
guardian to his children, considered it best that
his original intention should be carried out, and
that they should remain at Como for some time
at least as a home, with Clara for their protectress,
and as he had a villa of his own on the lake where
he could be in their neighbourhood, he resolved
to inhabit it.
CLARA FANE. 141
There was much in this scheme which offered
satisfaction to his mind ; he felt that he had now
an object of great interest, and that he could in
future devote himself to guard and protect these
two interesting girls, for whom he every day
became more anxious and for whom his attach-
ment continued to increase. Their fortunes were
very considerable, and on the score of means he
had no anxiety ; he saw plainly also that the young
Marquis was attached to Claudia, and that his
new found connexion, Count Altheim, had a
romantic penchant for the young Sybilla. At
present, the extreme youth of both sisters pre-
cluded the possibility of either of these matches
taking place; but the prospect was fair before
him, and he entertained no fears for their future
establishment. His customary love of the smooth
and easy side of events was therefore gratified,
and his thoughts dwelt with pleasing calmness on
the years to come, which he might in a great
measure direct.
There was one person to whom he was particu-
larly desirous to do something useful, but his
sense of delicacy made it a difficult business to
accomplish. He had convinced himself of the
excellence and goodness of Clara Fane's character,
and he lamented that she should be entirely de-
142 CLARA FANE.
pendant on the precarious existence which her
talents procured for her.
" When these girls marry/' thought he, " she
has only to look forward to some new situation
where, perhaps, she will meet with hardships with
which she is unfitted to struggle. She has
courage and firmness, and would resign herself
to any fate, but it is sad that she should be ex-
posed to endure a hard one, with all her fine and
valuable qualities. Yet, how to obviate this ?
Lady Seymour is the only female with whom I
am in any communication respecting her, and it
would be useless to expect sympathy or interest
from her. I should fear to alarm her delicacy if
I made any mention of a provision for her, either
from her pupils or myself : the children are [too
young to enter into my views, and she would be
aware that the proposal emanated from me."
This generous wish, though repressed, he was
not able to abandon, and was continually forming
plans to accomplish. It was with this view that
he occasionally talked to Clara about herself, and
led her to speak of her past life and its vicissi-
tudes. Finding that he entered with extreme
interest into all that she was induced to relate
from time to time, she became accustomed to his
enquiries and at length even named the inci-
CLARA FANE. 143
dents of which Mr. Loftus formed a part, her
version of which, although he knew them from
Edmond himself, he yet heard with pleasure.
While listening to her he continually re-
proached himself for a certain carelessness in his
own conduct, which he now saw was doubly wrong
as it had led Mr. Loftus into acts which might
have injured her.
" I am the more to blame," said he, " since I
had undertaken to cure him of failings which my
supineness, in some respects, did not sufficiently
check. I almost wonder that you have forgiven
me so generously, since I am, in fact, the first
cause of the undue familiarity he assumed in his
original acquaintance with you. He is, however,
quite humbled now, and will never intrude him-
self on your presence again unless by your especial
permission, so much so that he has absented him-
self from us now and has left Clairmont, who
remains at the hotel at Como, waiting till our
young friends are sufficiently recovered for it to
be advisable that they should see '^him. When
Edmond returns, which he probably will do
before very long, as he promises to come to me
on the lake, I hope you will feel sufficient confi-
dence in him to permit him to see you : he is
quite incapable of vexing you by any silly disguise
in future, which could answer no purpose. The
144 CLARA FANE.
death of Mr. Luttrel has made a great impression
on him, as well as the loss which his poor protege
Wybrow has experienced, and he is more inclined
to see the world in its right light, without expect-
ing too much from it or depreciating its good."
" When Mr. Loftus returns," said Clara, " I
have not the slightest wish to be a check on him.
I only desire to remain indifferent to him as I
now am, and shall not venture to object to his
visits here if you think them proper. I do not
feel unprotected now that you are acquainted with
all my history," she added, smiling, " and I can,
I know, always appeal to you if necessary."
CLARA FANE. 145
CHAPTER X.
Beside me were dark waters,
In broad canals and deep,
TVhereon the silver moon-beams
Lav, restless in their sleep.
Hood.
EDMOND LOFTUS, after parting with the young
Marquis at Como, proceeded on his way to Venice,
where he proposed passing a little time. He took
up his abode on the Grand Canal at an hotel near
the Rialto, and from thence made continual ex-
cursions in that dreamy manner common to the
inhabitants of the city of the sea. Without
exertion, reclined on cushions in a shaded gondola,
sometimes reading, sometimes contemplating, he
glided along the palace-girt canals into the open
sea-lakes out of which rise those fairy islands so
beautiful at a distance and so ruinous on a near
approach.
Day after day he indulged in this summer
VOL. in. H
146 CLARA FANE.
existence, for storms were far away and perfect
calm reigned throughout the watery region, enliv-
ened occasionally by a fresh breeze which changed
the colour of the waves from deep blue to lively
green, and crested them with dancing foam or
sent them sparkling over the marble steps of the
palaces along the shore.
His thoughts were of a mixed character, the
sad circumstance of Maria's death and the conse-
quent sorrow it would bring upon his friend Wy-
brow, pressed heavily on his mind : the sudden
catastrophe of Luttrel, cut off in the midst of a
licentious career, saddened him not a little. On
Sir Anselm he could always reflect with satisfac-
tion.
" He is a man," he said to himself, " whose
whole occupation is alleviating the pains of others :
he saw the character of Luttrel, and felt that his
children were but little protected by him, he
therefore undertook the pleasing task of watching
over them, and without appearing to dictate in
anything, contrived to accomplish his benevolent
object. He has taken equal interest in Clara
Fane. Why am I so wayward as to follow a dif-
ferent course, why can I not, like him, extract
honey from poison ? he would not be disgusted by
the character of Luttrel so much as to neglect a
self-imposed duty, and he has proved the judici-
CLARA FANE. 147
ousnesss of his proceeding, now that he can really
act as a father to these interesting girls. He
looks on Clara as perfection, and I believe him to
be right. But the nearer I approach to this con-
viction the farther am I from benefiting by it.
She contemns and despises me even Sir Anselm
is obliged to acknowledge that he believes her
to be indifferent to me, and indifference is the
worst difficulty to overcome. I have ruined my
hopes by an overweening opinion of my own
powers : now I distrust myself and am altogether
dispirited. I will, however, return to her vicinity
I will stay with Sir Anselm at Como and trust
to chance for assistance, for I cannot repress the
affection so suddenly conceived for her, so much
tried and so pertinaceously retained, in spite of
even her coldness. I have mistaken her and
myself. I have mistaken the nature of real love
and I now wake to know my error.
"To admire the beautiful and the true, as
they should be admired, we should begin, as in
religion, by faith ; before we approach the altar
we ought to examine ourselves to prove that we
possess the proper elements which render us wor-
thy to be accepted as votaries ; true love demands
scrupulous respect and unbounded devotion, I
have been but a pretender. I have clung to theo-
H 2
148 CLARA FANE.
ries and have wanted trust I have been presump-
tuous and frivolous instead of steady and patient.
I have thought that lightness, caprice and daring
would stand in stead of solid virtues.
" Some women would have been won by the
romance, which seemed to give eclat to such a
conquest ; but I have been mistaking, all this
while, the goddess herself for one of her wander-
ing nymphs, who might be pursued with impu-
nity.
" Thus we sport with the advantages offered
us, and in the end become beggars ! Let me re-
pair, if I may, the fault of too much confidence.
" Should I not be happy now if Clara were by
my side in this gondola if we were gliding on
together through these tranquil waters our world
within ourselves ? This might have been mine,
but for a waywardness which I could not control.
I ought to have seen from the first that she was
all I could desire or imagine : I saw in her sim-
plicity without art, an amiable confidence which
suspected no guile, but was startled at the dis-
covery of its existence : I- experienced her pity,
her patience, her resolution : I watched her steady
course of duty and propriety yet I dared to sus-
pect her still, only from the careless word of a
man whose principles I already knew, and who
has now expiated his faults so fatally.
CLARA FANE. 149
" With me caprice and fantasy, and their
light and dangerous graces have too long over-
come firm principles ; I was unable to appreciate
the good I professed to seek, and I have perhaps
done,
' Like the base Judean, thrown a pearl a\vay
Richer than all his tribe.'
It is not it shall not be too late. I will make
one effort more ; the prize is worth the struggle.
"The pure and innocent, and timid love of
young Clairmont has shamed me of mine. With
him the lovely child Claudia is a divinity, whose
shrine he approaches with trembling : no thoughts
find place in his heart but those which tend to
exalt her, and he rises himself the more he elevates
his idol. Alas ! on the contrary, we usually seek
to bring the object of our pursuit down to our
base level. We should, instead of holding the
young in contempt, seek to imitate them we
grow old too soon : we should believe as youth
believes, and we might be young in age, and hope
even without indulging in too many delusions.
" Am I not young also ? younger than Pe-
trarch, when he gave up his soul to the idea of
Laura ; and, whatever commentators may say the
love of Petrarch, was not more ideal than my
own perhaps not more pure. If he had never
150 CLARA FANE.
offended Laura by his pretensions, why does she
address reproaches to him had he not ventured
too far, relying on her love for him, would she
have arrested him with the words he himself re-
ports her to have uttered ' I am not such as you
imagine me/
'*' But Laura, though for a time offended, did
not overwhelm him with her anger or indifference ;
she exercised the indulgence of a gentle mind ;
she could accord him nothing as a lover, but she
could love him as a friend. I am in a better po-
sition than Petrarch, provided that in the heart
of her I seek there is a fountain of ever spring-
ing tenderness for me, such as the most hopeless
and consequently most pure of lovers found ready
to refresh and support him in the struggle of his
life.
" She resisted, she granted nothing, but she
forgave ! Clara has, perhaps, less to forgive than
Laura, and I have more to hope."
One day, as he was indulging in such reveries,
totally unconscious of all that was passing around
him, a sudden shock of his gondola startled him
from his trance of reflection, and the loud and
angry cries of his boatmen and those belonging
to another gondola, caused him to rouse himself
to know the cause.
All the invectives in which the Venetian dia-
CLARA FANE. 151
lect is so rich were at this moment employed on
both sides, and something more than words
seemed likely to ensue without an interposing
authority. One voice raised in anger betrayed a
foreign accent, and Loftus, on looking towards
the speaker, observed a black man in the usual
dress of the gondolieri, vehemently expostulating
with his own rowers.
" This is not the first time you have tried
this," exclaimed the black boatman in Venetian,
" but rest assured you will never succeed in over-
turning my boat. I know you well, I know the
great sea itself and your little paltry canals into
the bargain too well, to let myself be conquered by
any of you, though you herd against me because
I am the best rower and the best man amongst
you and, thank God, not a wretched, cowardly
Venetian."
" "What is this ?" cried Loftus, " why am I
thus interrupted ? is the canal not broad enough
for us all but you must run foul of us in the
very centre ?"
' ' It is false, signer," said the black, " your
people deceive you if they dare to say it. They
never lose an occasion of insulting me, and scarce
a day passes but they try to run down my boat
because I am a foreigner and they choose to say I
have no business here."
152 CLARA FANE.
" Is this the case ?" asked Loftus of his men,
amused at the altercation.
"To be sure it is, Excellenza," was the reply,
" and we will never cease till we have driven him
from the canal. He had no right here and he
gets all our fares from us because he has got the
name of a good rower/'
"And I deserve it," vociferated the black,
" and I can row in the open seas too where you
fear to go, and could beat any of you at your own
weapons in a fair fight any day, though I am not
a match for you as an assassin, You have stabbed
me and tried to drown me, and persecuted me,,
but I defy you all."
So saying, the gallant black resumed his seat,
and giving a stroke with his oar, which covered
them with spray, he darted triumphantly past,
followed by the shouts of fury of his opponents.
" Who is this fellow ?" asked Loftus, when he
had ceased laughing.
" His name is Cristofero," replied one of the
boatmen, "he came here some months ago and
set himself up on the canal, after building his
own boat, and he wants to interfere with our craft
and get our business away. Because he can sing
and dance and do a thousand fooleries, he is a
favourite at the hotels, and manages to pick up a
better living than we do : we take care and keep
CLARA FANE. 153
him from our hotel, and we all hate him in a
body."
" That's very unfair/' said Loftus, " he has as
much right to exert his industry as you have. I
cannot approve of this injustice."
The next day, when it was time to set out on
the usual lounging watery stroll, to the great an-
noyance of the former employes, the valet of Mr.
Loftus had ordered the gondola of Cristofero to
be at the hotel stairs. When Edmond descended
he had to face a host of angry men, who were
crowding round and abusing the black rower who
sat unmoved as a statue in his boat, occasionally
rolling his large eyes round, with a comic expres-
sion and with a grin on his mouth, which displayed
his dazzling teeth to perfection.
Mr. Loftus descended the stairs and stepped
into his new gondola, while the malcontents went
off muttering and mortified.
" The signer," said the black in good English,
as soon as he had rowed some distance, "comes
from a country where injustice is not thought
right, and he takes part with the poor foreigner :
may he be rewarded for it. I have done them no
harm, but they are ignorant wicked ones and
jealous of me because I am a gentleman to them
savages as they are."
H 3
154 CLARA FANE.
" Are you a gentleman, Cristofero ?" said
Loft us, " perhaps a king in your own country ?"
The black smiled good-humouredly.
."I might be," said he, "but I never knew it,
for I was a piccaninny when they took me away
from my own land. I am a free man and that is
as good, and yet I have had as much slavery as
most people too. I was wrecked at sea seventeen
years ago, and from that day till about two years
since I have been trying to escape in vain, falling
from one slavery into another, and only getting
out of one bad scrape to get into a worse. I have
an unlucky star that's the truth, but there is the
Good One above after all, and he wont let me
suffer always. He has sent you, signer, and he
will help me yet before I die."
" Where, then, have you been these seventeen
. years ?" enquired Loftus.
" Always work, work/' replied Cristofero,
" always in slavery from the time I was picked
up for dead on a reef of rocks, where I might as
well have stayed to be washed off by the sea, as
been saved by a slaver. I was carried to Marag-
nan and sold to a cotton merchant there, who
was a hard man, very rich, and always talking of
liberty for others, like the Yankees, while he kept
a tight hand over his own slaves.
CLARA FANE. 155
" He had been in England, and, as I was an
Englishman or all the same, he employed me to
be his secretary to write to London merchants
after a time ; but he treated me none the better
for it, always kicking and beating me, and treat-
ing me like a dog. I did him much service and
he found I was useful, so he took me with him to
Rio and there he made me a household servant.
He was very fond of money, and being offered a
large sum for me he sold me to a Chilian, and I
was taken off with him. This master was worse
than the first, and because I tried to escape from
his tyranny he sent me to the mines.
" That's a fearful life, signer," continued the
black, " and I bless my stars and the great Provi-
dence that watches over me that I got away from
that, but not for several years. I managed to
hide myself on board a vessel bound to France,
but was wrecked off terra del Fuego, and there
when I got ashore I fell into bad hands again,
and passed some more wretched years : from one
cruel master to another I have continually passed,
till at length I escaped on board a Sicilian vessel
and worked my way in her to Europe. I got
brought at last to Venice, where I fell sick and
was for months in the hospital, where they were
good to me and I recovered. Since then I have
tried to support myself by plying on the canal,
156 CLARA FANE.
but a troublesome life of it I have, used as I
am to struggling and striving, and I grow old now
and not so strong and able as I was years ago."
"Would you like a permanent service?"
asked Loftus, interested in the story he listened
to, " if you are honest and faithful I will employ
you, and you shall go with me when I leave
Venice."
Cristofero rested on his oars with a smile of
intense satisfaction as he heard this proposition,
much too advantageous to be rejected.
" I ask nothing better/' said he, " take me
and try me, and if I prove worthless cast me into
the sea, where I ought to have perished long
ago."
He said this in a tone of so much emotion
that Loftus was struck with it.
" Why ought you to have perished ?" said he,
" what necessity was there for such a sacrifice ?"
" Master," said the black, with energy, " let
it be a compact between us, never to speak of
that it is my horror it is my misery it pursues
me and makes me mad. I used to indulge in it,
now I try to forget that which crushed all my life
into one groan : I have expiated the fault of that
moment by seventeen years of wretchedness. My
bad star rose from the black waters then, now it
has sunk down into that desolate wave for ever,
CLARA FANE. 157
and the good one rises for me I can see it in
your eyes."
'You shall find it shine according to your
deserts/' replied Loftus, "we have every man his
sorrow, and each should respect that of his fellow.
Fear not, we shall be good friends. I ask honesty
and faithful service, and am not used to slaves.
You will not have a hard place."
From that day Cristofero, as he continued to
be called, being known by that name at Venice,
ceased to be an object of detestation to the
gondolieri, with whom he no longer interfered in
their public occupation. On the contrary, he
was enabled to be their patron on more than one
occasion, as his new master afforded him many
opportunities of becoming popular. He was the
dispenser of his bounty to the poor of his order,
and in executing the commissions given him by
Loftus he showed so noble and generous a spirit
of benevolence that his favour grew daily, and
from an object of derision and dislike, no one was
now so great a favourite as Cristofero il Nerone.
When not employed in his gondola, which,
being peculiarly well made and convenient,
Loftus had bought, he might be seen sitting on
the marble steps of the hotel, singing song after
song with a humour and gaiety which attracted
round him the listening boatmen, who would join
158 CLARA FANE.
in a joyous chorus at the end of his strain, much
to the amusement of his master, who loved to
listen to the cheerful sounds as he sat in a shaded
balcony hanging over the canal.
He found, in fact, that in more than one in-
stance, Cristofero was a great acquisition in his
establishment : he was an excellent interpreter
and was of signal use to his French valet, whose
Italian was not very fluent, and who was, like
most of his countrymen, too conceited to learn ;
he could play the guitar as well as a Spaniard,
could sing Brazilian love songs and English bal-
lads ; he could dance the bolero and an Irish jig,
and could tell histories of " hair-breadth 'scapes "
as well as the best story teller at Venice.
Added to these accomplishments, he was ex-
tremely good natured and obliging, and ready to
lend a helping hand to any one even to many
of those who had been least friendly on former
occasions. His gratitude to his new master
knew no bounds ; he was never weary of singing
and speaking his praises, and he professed his re-
solution to live and die for him if need were.
A proof of his sincerity he gave in his extreme
gratitude to the good brothers of the hospital,
who had attended him during his severe illness :
he induced Loftus to go with him to visit the
establishment, and showed him the ward in which
CLARA FANE.
he had slept and introduced him to the brother
who had watched him. A liberal donation to the
charity made both those benevolent men happy,
but filled the heart of Cristofero with exultation
and delight. No sooner did he see his friends
at Venice, after their visit, than he proclaimed
his master's kindness and drew upon him so
much popularity that it threatened to become
inconvenient.
He was, therefore, desired by Loftus to keep
this sort of transaction secret for the future, in
order to avert the applications of every pauper
in the city, and it was with the utmost diffi-
culty that his enthusiastic follower kept the
ardour of his gratitude in any bounds.
160 CLARA FANE.
CHAPTER XI.
-for, look, thy cheeks
V
Confess it, one to the other. Speak, is 't so ?
All's Well that Ends Well.
SOME weeks had now elapsed since the news of
their father's death had been communicated to
the sisters, and Sir Anselm thought that the
Marquis, who was staying with him at a villa he
had hired at Varenna, might be allowed to pay
his respects. He was, accordingly, admitted, and
Claudia had the melancholy satisfaction of hearing
from him the brief, but interesting, account of
her father's solicitude respecting them at the last.
Clairmont had no easy task to ward off the in-
quiries addressed to him as to the manner of
Luttrel's death, which he was forced to attribute
to an accident while shooting.
The kind and tender manner in which he
listened to their lamentations, and his soothing
words, quite succeeded in impressing Claudia with
the highest opinion of his goodness of heart, and
CLARA FANE. 161
Clara saw, with pleasure, that his society was a
msans of consolation to her wounded spirit.
Knowing Sir Anselm's wishes on the subject,
and aware that they were those of Mr. Luttrel
himself, she judged that it was best to permit the
intimacy to increase, and Lord Clairmont accord-
ingly became a constant visitor at the villa at
Balbiano.
Sir Anselm now announced to them his inten-
tions of absenting himself for a short time at
Milan. *
" When I return," said he, ~" I hope to bring
with me my sister-in-law, the Countess Altheim,
whom I am endeavouring to pursuade to pass the
winter with me on the Lake : they assure me that
at Varenna the cold is scarcely felt, and as she is
in delicate health the climate I trust will restore
her. I shall look to you for much care and atten-
tion for her, and am sure I may promise it. If,"
he added, turning to Clara, " another visitor
should arrive in my absence, or when I return I
should bring him with me, I have to beg you, to
extend your politeness to Mr. Loftus."
" Oh \" exclaimed Claudia, with something of
her old gaiety, " we shall have a difficult business
then, for poor Mr. Loftus is one of Miss Fane's
antipathies she never could bear to hear us name
him she disliked him as much as she did Clark ;
162 CLARA FANE.
but perhaps she will take to adoring him as she
ended by doing that much injured individual."
"Lady Seymour, attended by that worthy,"
said Sir Anselm, "will, I find, soon arrive at
Venice, on their way here ; probably Loftus will
be their escort, so that we shall shortly be a large
party on our lake."
Sir Anselm, leaving the necessary directions
for the reception of his expected visitors, accord-
ingly departed, and Clara and her pupils were
left in their beautiful solitude, broken only by
daily visits from Lord Clairmont, who usually
arrived early in the morning, and returned to
Varenna in the evening: sometimes they rowed
on the lake, sometimes landed and explored some
of the charming vallies, and all that could be
devised to amuse and calm the spirits of the
orphan sisters was resorted to with a tender solici-
tude which did not lose its reward, for the light
hearts of youth are more easily led from brooding
over sorrows than is possible in later life, when,
if oblivion of grief is obtained in the course of
time, it is at the sacrifice of a portion of intellec-
tual life, which, following the loved and lost, leaves
the mourner so much nearer the grave, over which
his mind hovers. Every tear gives an additional
year of age every pang robs the heart of a part
of its vitality. Oh, tears and grief ! blessed are
CLARA FANE. 163
ye, then for ye reduce the load and render the
painful journey we must run the shorter.
Sir Anselm had been gone about ten days
when Clara received a letter from him, mentioning
that he was in hopes soon to return, with Count
Altheim and his mother, but that he waited till
the latter felt well enough to leave the physician
at Milan, in whom she had confidence.
" Mr. Loftus," he wrote, " will arrive here
almost directly he will send some of his people
on to Varenna to wait for him there ; it is not
impossible that he will see you all before me, as I
do not like to hurry Madame Altheim, who is,
however, delighted in the prospect of being my
guest and your neighbour. I find her sadly
changed in the course of these long, sad years ;
but the same in spirit, and almost painfully like
her whose memory I cherish so fondly you will
I am sure be great friends there is a resemblance
in your minds, as well in your aspects, for the
singular likeness I spoke of strikes me even more
forcibly in her. This, of course, is merely the
effect of sympathy, that mysterious power which
unites the absent and distant, and can transform
even feature at its will. Fanciful as it is, I do
not object to indulge in the belief in its existence,
let it be called mesmerism or what you wjll, cer-
tain it is that it affects only particular persons, and
164 CLARA FANE.
is null with others, like the effect of music, electric
to a sensitive ear, and mute to one that is dull."
Clara pleased herself in the anticipation of
seeing this new acquaintance.
" My lot is singular/' thought she ; " entirely
dependant, deprived of position or connexions, I
find myself, without exertion of my own, placed
in a sphere to which it would seem I belong, so
completely does everything give way to afford me
advantage. Even this sad catastrophe of the
death of Mr. Luttrel tends to relieve me from the
fear of annoyance, and the unexampled kindness
of Sir Anselm promises me uninterrupted protec-
tion. These children are become to me as dear
as if I were nearly related to them, and they cling
to me with an affection which claims all mine in
return. One regret, nevertheless, attends me.
Why am I so weak as to dwell still on the thought
of Mr. Loftus ? why do I allow myself to wish
that he had acted differently, and felt for me
really the attachment that he feigned ? Of course
when he quitted me last, with the disguise he had
assumed, he threw off all the inclination which
he might have felt. He was" mortified and dis-
gusted with himself; no doubt he altogether
believed that the severity and coldness with which
I deemed it right to act, were genuine, and that
he had no place in my regard.
CLARA FANE. 165
"When we see no emotions in another ans-
wering to our own, the heart is thrown back
upon itself and becomes chilled and insensible,
and as love is the cause of love, so is indiffer-
ence the parent of indifference. Would that
the efforts of my reason were sufficient to subdue
this feeling of preference for him, which can tend
only to destroy thet ranquillity which I might now
feel. These words perhaps merely written for
effect but so effective ! which Claudia read to
me to-day with so much feeling in the charming
letters of Madame de Sevigne, I understood too
well : ' Je ne comprends pas comme on pent tant
penser a une personne ; n'aurai je jamais tout
pense? non que quandje ne penser ai plus! 3 '
She sat mournfully leaning from the balcony
which hung over the lake and looked out upon
the calm waters and the distant snow-crowned
mountains rising, as it were, from its bosom, and
her mind, abstracting itself from all around, framed
its aspiration into passionate words like these :
I guide my wandering thoughts away
From all that leads them back to thee ;
That when I turn my mind to pray
Thou mayest not in my vigils be.
For wert thou but a moment there,
So weak I know my heart would prove,
Whatever might begin my prayer,
'Twould end in asking for thy love.
166 CLARA FANE.
But we are now so far removed,
And I have striven to forget,
Until the mem'ry that we loved
Has scarcely left me one regret.
I would not roll away the stone
That closed the fountain of my pain,
Lest the deep stream, now silent grown,
Should gush to fatal life again.
Oh ! better in the torrent's course
Pile rocks on rocks in ruin wide,
Till, check'd and deadened in its force,
It turn its sullen waves aside.
The future and its cares unknown,
Let the sad present be my own.
While she sat indulging in these dreams, a
boat suddenly came in sight, cleaving the waves
with more than usual speed and, as it neared, she
observed several figures within. It glided swiftly
past her balcony, and she received a salutation
from a gentleman whom she could not for a
moment doubt was no other than the very person
of whom she had been thinking, and striving not
to think. The boat stopped at the palace-stairs,
but a projecting colonnade prevented her seeing
whether he had landed. Her uncertainty was,
however, soon ended by Sybilla's running into
her room, followed by her sister.
" Oh, my dear Miss Fane !" cried she, "only
guess who has arrived ! our beloved Mr. Loftus
himself, whom we have'nt seen since we were
CLARA FANE. 167
children. He is not at all changed, though it is
quite three years, and he pretends to be so shy
and afraid to see our governess who he is sure is
some dreadful stiff, formal person, that we are
determined to show him how mistaken he is.
Come with us directly you will be certain to
like him, though you are so unreasonable as to
hate his name. I do believe you are jealous
because we were always fond of him. How you
tremble ! why one would think he was an ogre,
going to eat you. Claudia, do make her come,
for the poor darling is waiting in the garden till
we arrive/'
Clara, with a strong effort, recovered herself,
and descended the stairs with Claudia, while
Sybilla ran before to announce her.
" She is coming, Edmond !" exclaimed she ;
" but I can't tell you how frightened she is she
can't bear you, and fancies you as bad as you
think her."
" Did she say so ?" asked Mr. Loftus.
" No, no," returned Sybilla ; but she trembled
and shook, and turned red and pale as if she
expected to be beaten."
At this moment Clara entered. Mr. Loftus
advanced towards her with an air of deference,
and took her hand.
" Miss Fane," said he, " I am too happy to be
168 CLARA FANE.
received here by the favourite friend of those so
dear to me. 1 am to announce to you that Lady
Seymour will arrive in the course of a week, and
the rest of the party soon after ; will you give
me hospitality for an hour or two?"
Clara bowed, and with as calm a manner as
she could assume replied graciously to this ad-
dress.
"1 was anxious to steal a march on Lady
Seymour/' he continued, " and to visit my old
friends before she arrived. I know they hate
formality as much as I do, and I hoped by this
sudden movement that we might all feel like old
acquaintances at once. Where is my friend Clair-
mont ? I expected to find him here," he said,
looking at Claudia, who blushed and turned
away.
"He is later than usual to-day," said she;
"but he is sure to come soon he takes such
care of us."
" Happy occupation !" exclaimed Mr. Loftus ;
" I am, however, come to relieve him, and must
have my share in this arduous task. I have such
a capital boatman, Claudia; better than the one
who used to row us to the Grotte Azuro, at
Naples do you remember ?"
"Oh yes, we remember , all !" cried Claudia,
" and how you used to mimic all the people there,
CLARA FANE. 169
and act poor Clark for us he is coming too, isn't
he, with Auntie Seymour ?"
"Without doubt/' said Mr. Loftus; "she
could not move if he was not at her elbow : she
is giving him lessons in drawing, you know."
" But this boatman is it the black man in
the boat below ?" asked Sybilla ; " what a good-
humoured, laughing face "
"The same," replied Loftus; "he means to
reform the boats on the lake, which he calls tubs,
as indeed they are. He has a plan of building
one which will put them all into the shade, and
as I intend to remain at Como, he will be able to
carry his plan into execution. I actually do it to
gratify him ; he has a model of the boat he means
to build, and is always full of inventions, which
will amuse you he can sing and dance, and do
all sort of things."
" Oh, I am so glad he is going to stay with
us !" cried Sybilla. " I shall run down and talk
to him."
She was, accordingly soon engaged in deep
conversation with Cristofero, and presently, with-
out veil or bonnet, with her beautiful hair flying
in the breeze, she passed the terrace, where the
rest of the party stood, gliding swiftly along in the
pretty vessel and under the guidance of her new
VOL. in. i
170 CLARA FANE.
friend, between whom and herself a cordial fami-
liarity had instantly sprung up.
In a few minutes they were encountered by
another boat, and Sybilla returned, bringing Lord
Clairmont in triumph. Mr. Loft us and he met
in the most affectionate manner, and it was evi-
dent that this pleasure was mutual.
That day was passed more cheerfully than any
since their arrival at the Lake, for though oc-
casional bursts of grief, on the part of the sisters,
caused by sudden reminiscences of their father,
interrupted their intercourse for awhile, yet they
served but the more to increase the intimate sym-
pathy, which was thus established amongst all
parties.
Mr. Loftus' delicacy and forethought in avoid-
ing the necessary introduction to her, which must
have been awkward had they met before Lady Sey-
mour, gratified Clara extremely. The simplicity of
her pupils was easily deceived by their own precon-
ceived idea that each was unknown to the other,
and she thus could be perfectly at her ease when
Lady Seymour and Sir Anselm returned.
It was now the business of the two gentlemen
to imagine amusements for the sisters and their
governess, and prevent the former from falling
back into sadness, and their devices seemed to
succeed entirely. Not the least amongst the
CLARA FANE. 171
means they used was the introduction of Cristo-
fero, whose ingenuity in trifles was extraordinary,
and who was continually inventing something
surprising and startling to excite the amusement
of his favourites : he professed great love for both
Clara and her two pupils, and with his habitual
enthusiasm was accustomed to say he would die
for them all.
They each congratulated themselves on their
conquest, and his raptures not a little entertained
them, while his songs were an agreeable variety
to the vocal concerts in which they often in-
dulged as they passed their evenings rowing up
and down in the most beautiful parts of this most
seducing of all charming retreats.
With infinite delight did the sisters listen to
his stories of adventure, of which he had a great
collection : sometimes they teased him by doubt-
ing the marvels he related, and furnished them-
selves with continual amusement by his vehement
assurances that, he never uttered a syllable that
was not true.
" Why," he would say, ' ' perhaps when I tell
you that our fires in Bermuda are all made of
cedar you wont believe me, and that we have little
fishes there half dolphin and half horse you
may laugh, but I have got one dried that I can
show you ; the little forked tail is scaly like a
I 2
172 CLARA FANE.
fish, and the little head is exactly like a horse's,
only no bigger than a child's toy. One of our
fishes we call The Angel, and it has scales like
the sun our Blue Fish is like a thing made in
silver and dropped from the sky and our Porgy
and Grouper are enough to frighten you to look
at, if you like variety. These fish are always
swimming and darting about amongst the coral
groves at the bottom of the sea, and slipping in
and out between the branches of the great sea-
fans, that are all purple and white, and glittering
under water."
" But how do you know this ?" said Sybilla,
" except you lived in the sea you could not see
it."
Cristofero showed his white teeth as he ex-
claimed, laughing
"Ah, Missie, we do almost live in the sea
there you should see the little black children,
as soon as they can walk, get into the water and
stand on their heads their black legs sticking up
in the air. We can dive almost before we can
run, and, as for seeing, a black pilot only steers
by his sight ; he can see to the bottom of the
deep water, which is not like this lake, clear as
you call it, but like glass, so that you walk into it
without knowing that you are off the sands.
Oh ! they are lovely islands, if ever there were
CLARA FANE. 173
any ! and, if you once saw them you'd think no-
thing of this bit of water."
So saying he suspended his oar for awhile,
and burst forth into one of his wild songs ; the
words of which were something like the following.
SONG OF THE SUMMER ISLES.
The Summer Isles the Summer Isles !
In the chrystal sea
Where tempests be,
You may know them all
By the cedars tall
By the Red-bird's note and the Blue-bird's call.
By the Ground-doves as they run,
Through the pathways in the sun :
By the flowers and shells
And cavern'd cells :
By the coral reefs of danger,
That wreck the wand'ring stranger.
They were found when storms were high,
Tho' they seem as if dropped from the sky.
But ruin is on their shore
And tempests evermore,
And all rocks and shoals they dot the bays,
With as many isles as the year has days !
174 CLARA FANE.
CHAPTER XII.
Malgre ce ciel, ce beau lieu qui m'enivres
Vivre ainsi c'est languir c'est attendre de vivre.
Tout mon bonheur ainsi se change en vague ennui !
Ijamartine.
LADY SEYMOUR had arrived at Balbiano and was
installed in her apartments there. The interval
that had elapsed between the period of Mr. Lut-
trel's death and her meeting with his children
having been, she considered, long enough to save
her from the annoyance of scenes which might
agitate her nerves, and as the sisters felt that the
sympathy she affected was not altogether genuine,
their meeting with her excited them infinitely less
than it would otherwise have done. It is only
reciprocal feeling that opens the heart, and where
that is silent the fountain of tears is arrested, and
makes no movement to destroy the cold barrier
which tenderness would melt at once.
This Clara considered infinitely better as it
CLARA FANE. 175
was, and was thankful to find that every day
tended to restore by its tranquillity the tone of her
pupils mind. They had many quiet hours to-
gether in which, though they could not be won
to study, she was able to comfort them in a man-
ner more effective than what can be gleaned by
the mere consolations of worldly amusement, and
she saw with delight that their minds became
strengthened, and their understandings improved,
by the methods she adopted to counteract the
dangerous examples which had hitherto been their
only guide.
The conduct of Mr. Loftus, meanwhile, was
all that Clara could wish ; he neither sought nor
avoided her society, but they always met in com-
pany with others, and he never addressed to her
a word which could not be heard by all or which
alluded in any way to a former acquaintance.
The minds of both were more tranquil ; but there
existed in each a feeling of anxiety known to
neither, but shared by both. The attachment,
unnamed, thus silently grew, almost to the regret
of both.
That this was a dangerous position for them
they were each aware ; but Clara had no means
of avoiding it, and Edmond had not the courage
to destroy the happy present which he could not
help enjoying.
176 CLAKA FANE.
" The truth will break upon me but too soon,"
he said ; " as we now exist I almost dream that I
may be loved by her. If I should seek for the
certainty my hopes might perhaps be at once put
an end to, and a blank future extend its dreary
waste for my heart. I will lull myself in this
blissful state of enjoyment and let the storm
sleep."
Clara's musings were not dissimilar.
"He has evidently entirely conquered the
weakness which led him into such extravagance ;
he has no love for me now, and requires neither
disguise nor subterfuge to conceal the mere com-
mon-place interest with which I am regarded. I
will endeavour to show him that my heart is per-
fectly unmoved, and labour to meet him with the
same calm carelessness as I observe in him."
But Loftus had miscalculated his powers : the
energy and impetuosity of his character had
slumbered only to revive with more vigour, and
after a time he found this state of feeling in-
tolerable.
" I must know the truth I" he exclaimed : " I
will make one effort, and she shall tell me at
once whether she loves or contemns me."
It was under the influence of this impatience
that they met one evening in their usual excur-
sion on the Lake, and their songs which were
CLARA FANE. 177
accustomed to wake the moonlight echoes were
renewed. Clara's guitar was their only instru-
ment, and she was accustomed to accompany the
voices of her pupils and her own to the delight of
the attentive listeners who were her companions.
Sybilla had on one occasion consented to keep
Lady Seymour company at home, while the others
set forth in their boat, and they promised to re-
compence her devotion by a variety of serenades,
as she sat with her compelled companion and the
attentive Clark on the terrace overlooking the
lake and keeping their boat in view.
The young lovers had given themselves up to
the enchantment of the scene, and, seated by each
other at the further end of the boat, had left
Clara and Mr. Loftus beneath the awning, which
was commonly removed when the moonlight ap-
peared, but was still up at the moment. Clara
was striking chords at random on the instrument,
and seemed scarcely conscious of his presence,
abstracting her thoughts, as she was endeavouring
to do, from the present.
Suddenly Mr. Loftus said, in an abrupt tone,
intended only for her ear
" Play the air I first heard you sing at Rose
Cottage, if you have not forgotten it, or if it is
not detestable to you from association."
Clara started ; the old manner, reproachful and
I 3
178 CLAKA FANE.
severe, was returned, and, while it alarmed her,
she felt that it came almost like the voice of an
old friend, with something welcome in its anger.
She tried to obey his desire, but her hand trem-
bled, her voice faltered, and she gave up the
attempt. Edmond Loftus snatched the guitar
from her hand, exclaiming
" I thought so ; I will revive your memory
once more, then let it die away for ever ; these are
words I have set to it myself, they suit exactly."
And, in a clear, low voice, much agitated by
emotion, he sang
Be happy now ! ah, why should I
With unavailing prayers beset thee ?
Or why compel thy memory ?
ISlo ! if thou dost not love forget me.
Too fatally this heart can tell
What 'tis to hope and to regret thee ;
But, though I prize thy friendship well,
Go I if thou canst not love forget me.
I'd rather be within thy heart
A stranger, as when first I met thee,
Than but with others share a part
No 1 do not strive to love forget me.
I've bowed my soul, nor will repine
To learn the task by fortune set me ;
A happier lot might have been mine,
But, no 1 thou dost not love forget me.
CLARA FANE. 179
The song, although exclusively addressed to
the ear of Clara, attracted the attention of the
others.
" What a beautiful air/' exclaimed Claudia,
" but I do not like the words, nor the way in
which you sing them, Mr. Loftus; one would
think you were angry with some one, you utter
the notes so passionately."
" Am I not a good actor ?" said Loftus ; " I
assume the character of an offended lover well, at
any rate, since you thought me in earnest."
" Mr. Loftus acts so well," said Clara, " that,
for my own part, I find a difficulty in discovering
when he is assuming a character, and when he is
in earnest."
"You should hear him mimic Clark," said
Claudia, laughing, "you could not know them
apart."
" I would prefer Mr. Loftus keeping to his
own character," said Clara.
"Now, Edmond," said Claudia, "do sing
something else, to do away with the disagreeable
impressions of that last song or, stop give me
the guitar, I will give you one Miss Fane is
always singing when alone ; one would think she
was in love, the words are so tender, and the
music is her own. You shall hear ; and tell me,
180 CLARA FANE.
Lord Clairmont, if you do not think it somewhat
suspicious."
With an arch look, she took the instrument,
and, accompanying herself with peculiar grace,
sang as follows
I've seen thee weep when I have wept,
And smile so sweetly when I smiled,
That for awhile my sorrows slept,
And hope my wakened heart beguiled.
I've seen the bright tear in thine eye
When I have spoken words of woe ;
I've heard thy gentle, pitying sigh,
Like winds o'er withered flowers that blow :
And as those winds have power to steal
From faded leaves a perfume yet,
Thy pity roused my soul to feel
Reviving pleasure 'midst regret.
And shall I teach this heart to fear
That I am nothing now to thee ?
That others many are more dear
My dream destroyed, and thou still free !
That hour, apart from all the rest,
Given up to me, and me alone,
Why should its memory make me blest ?
The vision shone it fades 'tis gone !
" AVho shall say the authoress of such words
is not an actress/' said Mr. Loftus, rather con-
temptuously, " because it is not likely that Miss
CLARA. FANE. 181
Fane feels a syllable that she has expressed so
well."
"All authors are actors for the time/* said
Clara, "they work themselves into enthusiasm on
the subject they choose, and they express them-
selves well or ill, like a good or bad actor,
according to the genius they possess. But as for
these lines they owe all to the talent of her who
sang them now, from any other lips they would
fall meaningless."
"Do you wish to madden me by so much
coldness ?" exclaimed Loftus in an under tone, as
he leant forward as if removing the awning from
the boat to let the full flood of moonlight fall
upon them.
" I do not I cannot understand you," re-
turned Clara.
" If you wished it you could," replied he in
the same tone, " consent to hear me for a few
minutes let me speak to you once, for the last
time. Let me see you to-morrow alone : you
hold my fate in your hands. Do not reply I
will not be denied this request : it will be my
last."
These were the hurried words with which
Loftus took leave of Clara that evening, and there
was something so earnest and impassioned in his
manner that she had not courage, even if he had
182 CLARA FANE.
left her opportunity, to reply. They landed at
the palace steps, and he rowed away in the
moonlight almost without saluting the others.
"Mr. Loftus is very strange to-night," said
Claudia to Sybilla, when the sisters were alone,
" do you know I think I have found out a secret.
He is in love with Miss Fane !"
Loftus returned the next day and proposed
an excursion in the beautiful vallies which run
off from the lake, losing themselves in the dis-
tant mountains. Whether it was a preconcerted
arrangement or accident favoured his design, he
contrived that Clara should fall to his share in
their scrambling walk amongst the rugged though
beautiful paths through the woods, which he had
chosen for their morning's journey of discovery.
Clara could not avoid accepting his arm
occasionally, for fear of exciting the observation
of the rest, and when she did so she observed
that it trembled. They had proceeded some dis-
tance when, by a sudden turn in the path, the
party was separated, intentionally of course,
by Loftus, and he stopped.
"Clara," said he, "my probation I feel has
lasted as long as I can endure it. You have carried
your severity to the utmost verge of my patience,
and I must hear at once from your own lips whe-
ther there is the slightest chance of my ever
CLARA FANE. 183
awakening in your heart a feeling which responds
to mine.
" I loved you from the first moment we met,
and my affection for you is stronger now than
ever I am ready to lay at your feet my fortune
and my fate. I am ready to repair the wrong I
have done you in idea, when I dared to imagine
you less perfect than you are when my folly and
conceit made me fancy you easily won ; but your
extreme reserve, your imperturbable coldness
your vexatious self-command distracts me, and
make me dread that in devoting myself to you I
am adoring a mere idol, not a true divinity, who
can hear my vows with tenderness and can not
only pity, but love her votary."
" Mr. Loftus," replied Clara, " you mistake
me, and have mistaken me from the beginning ;
but I have long forgiven and tried to forget the
past let it glide down the stream of time and be
lost in oblivion. You are generous and just to
me at last, but this is, like all you do, only an im-
pulse ; you mistrust me even now that you say
all that can be said to assure me of your sincerity.
Hear me and believe that I am also sincere. I
have distrusted you too I confess so much. I
have not believed that your attachment was wor-
thy of me. This may sound self-sufficient, but I
know my own heart and I know what it deserves.
184 CLARA FANE.
It merits, and it must have, perfect confidence
before it dares to reply to your's. Consider
our relative positions : I am dependant, with-
out fortune, station, rank, consideration : the
world would say I accepted your noble offer
from worldly motives, how can I be certain,
knowing the mistrust of your disposition, that
you would not think so too if I did ? You have
all to offer me, I have only in return the power
to expose you to the sneers of the class to which
you belong. You have thought of this, you have
struggled against this, and you have conquered
the feeling for my sake. I thank you deeply
but I cannot agree to injure your prospects, to
lower you in the estimation of the world to which
you belong.
" 1 am an orphan, friendless, obscure let me
remain so. Your path is far from mine, leave me
to the humble fortune circumstances have allotted
me, and continue the exalted course your birth
entitles you to pursue."
" These are proud, cold words," said Loftus ;
"they convince me of that which I more than
feared : that you do not care enough for me to
relinquish the wretched shadow of a duty you
have created for yourself, and that you can at
once abandon me to satisfy a miserable pride
which I have offended."
CLARA FANE. 185'
" No," said Claivi, with emotion, " I will say
more, I will couceal uothing from you. Be it
pride, or fear, or doubt, I know not ; but I dare
not accept your offer lest you should repent here-
after, and reproach me for taking advantage of
your generosity. I am not your equal and I am
therefore unfitted to be yours."
" You despise, you dislike, it costs you nothing
to reject me/' cried Loft us, passionately, " were
you born exactly in the same position as myself,
had you fortune, rank, everything to give me
besides yourself, which is all I ask you would
equally reject a man you cannot love. Say so, be
candid, tell me so at once, and I swear to perse-
cute you no more."
" I cannot," said Clara, hurriedly, and blush-
ing deeply.
" Then your heart is mine in spite of all this
hesitation !" exclaimed Edmond, seizing her
hand.
" Stop," said Clara, almost breathless, " no-
thing can alter the resolution I have taken not to
accept the hand, the fortune, the advantages you
offer me because the regard you imagine you
feel for me would not, I am convinced, be
proof against the censure such an union would
create. I cannot submit to the blame I should
186 CLARA FANE.
bring on you, I could not endure the change
in your feelings towards me."
" It is your turn to mistrust me, Clara,"
said he, reproachfully; "but this revengeful
opposition is unbecoming, is unfeminine it
would not exist if you loved me."
" It exists because I would not injure that
which I love," said Clara.
" At least, then," persisted Mr. Loftus, " you
leave me comfort, poor as it is ; this is wonderfully
liberal. C I will/ say you, 'deprive you of all
hope for the present, and the future I mistrust; I
believe you capable of every weakness of every
unkindness ; I see no reason to regard you other-
wise than as a miserable creature without dignity
or character ; I abandon you I reject you ; but
you may console yourself with the perfectly use-
less assurance that I love the being I chastise/
Now, Clara, hear me. If it be true that I have
any interest in your heart, and if it be true
that your scruples arise from the paltry considera-
tions which it is beneath you even to name, they
can they will be overcome in time, and I am
content to wait till that time arrives. I will res-
pect your pride, I will be indulgent to your mis-
taken notions ; but tell me that if at the end of a
given period I prove myself deserving of you, by
CLARA FANE. 187
showing that no change can alter the purity the
constancy of my attachment, tell me that you will
let this subject be renewed. No knight-errant of
old could agree to more, and, believe me, the preux
chevaliers of the present time have infinitely less
patience."
Clara was about to answer, although she trem-
bled to do so, when her perturbation was put an
end to by the return of some of the party.
" Have you fallen down a precipice ?" cried
Sybilla, " or slipped into a torrent, that you are
so long coming on ? We have been frightened to
death that is Clark and I, and Lord Clairmont
sent us back, all through that long wood, to try
and find you; Claudia, he said, and he, would sit
under a tree till we came back, as they were tired ;
they are not half such good climbers as we are."
Sharp work for the boots \" exclaimed Clark j
good for young legs trying to the middle ages
pretty bit here don't wonder you stopped an
eye to the sublime Nature in all her graces
just take off that rock and tree for Lady Seymour
quite a picture ready made."
188 CLARA FANE.
CHAPTER XIII.
Life with her is gone, and I
Learn but a new way to die !
Habinytoit.
MRS. SPICER, in spite of the great change that
had taken place in her family since the death of
her only child, was still occupied in the usual
mechanical round of her daily avocations : she
still sat at her table, with her hand occasionally
thrust into her drawer, and bringing forth from
that repository the mystic papers which recorded
the consumption of certain viands every week ;
but the Muse was no longer invoked, the odds
and ends of poetry had disappeared, and the sharp
look and sharp tone had vanished also.
Mr. Grimford still growled and snarled, and
Mr. Frewen still scolded and tyrannised, but she,
like Imogen,
" was senseless of their wrath ; a touch more rare
Subdued all pangs all fears."
In the place of the customary songs and son-
CLARA FANE. 189
nets there was a little pencil drawing of Maria,
which Clara Fane had once sketched, and this was
looked at through tears that dimmed her specta-
cles and fell heavily on her black gown.
Her hope and animation, her ambition and
anxiety were at an end ; her vanity and her pride
were quenched ; only her inherent fondness for
little gains remained; and, but for that, she
would have found no interest in life.
There is, in the midst of all afflictions, some
trifling consolation, which lingers round the shade
of former joys, and, in the paltry routine of a life
left without enjoyment, fills part of the void
which an unmitigable sorrow creates. This, in
minds of a certain stamp, enables the sufferer to
endure existence, and even to feel, at length, an
interest in living on when all that pleased or ex-
cited to action is gone.
Poor Mrs. Spicer had developed no new or
brighter qualities since her misfortune, but she
had been the cause of their development in others,
and much sympathy and kindness had been shown
her by her neighbours, to all of whom the gentle
virtues of Maria had endeared her, and who had
never found anything to condemn in her mother
beyond a certain inquisitiveness and littleness
from which the poor girl so early removed was
entirely free.
190 CLARA FANE.
Dr. Cowley had not only attended his interest-
ing patient with care, but assisted her mother
both with his purse and his advice, as few but
medical men do, in whom it rarely happens that
benevolence and skill, generosity and disinterested-
ness do not unite. The marvel is, how doctors
ever become men of wealth, so constant are the
demands upon their liberality, and so seldom are
they not responded to. No class of men are so
frequently called upon to exercise their good feel-
ing, and none are so ready to do so without
grudging. He had called almost daily to see the
bereaved mother, and had made his visits con-
siderably longer than formerly, recounting all the
news he thought could interest her, and relating
his best anecdotes to rouse her from her mourn-
ful reveries.
On Mr. Grimford the event had made little
change ; he had, however, attended the funeral of
Maria as chief mourner, a circumstance which in
itself had weight with Mrs. Spicer; he had paid
some of the expenses also, and had produced cer-
tain bottles of wine and spirits from his hoard to
supply visitors and attendants with funeral re-
freshment. His tone was rather less harsh, or,
rather, he was more silent than before, and
though he uttered no expression of sympathy, yet
CLARA FANE. 191
the widow did not doubt that he felt the loss of
his goddaughter and pitied her misfortune.
Mr. Prewen had arrived in Poland Street
only a few days after the conclusion of the sad
event, and he showed no further commiseration
than in remarking that he supposed now the ket-
tle would never be brought up boiling and the
door would never be opened. Mrs. Spicer fortu-
nately did not hear his further observation that,
at all events, he should not be deafened by the
sound of squalling.
Mr. Frewen, in fact, seemed in a worse
humour than usual this time, and his India com-
plaints seemed to trouble him more ; the attend-
ance of Dr. Cowley was required, who communi-
cated to Mrs. Spicer his opinion that his patient
was in a bad way, and recommended her, as much
for the sake of creating an interest in her mind
as for anything else, to be attentive to him should
he fall sick, as he anticipated.
This idea, and the possibility of some of his
supposed wealth finding its way into her pocket,
animated Mrs. Spicer to exertion, and when her
lodger really fell sick, a fact which did happen
soon after the doctor's prediction, she was almost
as active as ever in providing for his wants.
As he grew daily worse, the doctor thought it
necessary to ascertain from him if he had any
192 CLARA FANE.
relations who could be written to, and he desired
Mrs. Spicer to broach the subject. When she
did so, however, the patient became very angry,
weak as he was :
" No," he exclaimed, " I don't want any horse-
leeches about me ; it's bad enough as it is ;
you're all in the same story, but I tell you I am
not going to die this time, and if I am I wont be
dictated to."
But as his malady increased he became uneasy
and made several efforts to speak which he was
unable to do, nor could Mrs. Spicer, in spite of
her quickness and penetration, discover the mean-
ing of the few incoherent words he uttered.
She was in this uncomfortable state of uncer-
tainty as to his wishes when she bethought herself
of looking amongst his papers for some address
which might assist her in discovering his friends
or relatives, for his closeness and suspicious cau-
tion had always evaded even her curiosity, and
she had never been able ta find out more than
she had gleaned by chance.
In a portfolio she at last found a letter which
by the date must have been recently received : it
was from a person named Macintosh, whose style
and the matter of his epistle indicated that he was a
lawyer, and whom Mrs. Spicer did not doubt was
the same who occasion ally had been in the habit of
CLARA FANE. 193
visiting her lodger, when, engaged in the adjoining
room, her quick ears had picked up the little infor-
mation respecting him which she had gained. To
this man Dr. Cowley wrote, and he was not long
in obeying the summons.
When he arrived the Doctor questioned him
respecting the connexions of Mr. Frewen, but his
answers were very cautious.
"Mr. Frewen has made his will," said he, " to
my certain knowledge; but I am not at liberty
to say anything regarding his family, since he has
not done so himself. In case of his demise I am
ready to give whatever information I possess, but
at present I must decline."
"But since I inform you that he is in im-
minent danger," said the Doctor, " I cannot see
why you should withhold it at this moment, when
some of his relatives might be sent to."
" That would be useless/' answered the lawyer,
"for he has none who are personally acquainted
with him ; his long absence in India has entirely
alienated him from the few relations he has left,"
" But his wife ?" hazarded Mrs. Spicer.
The lawyer started.
" Has he named her, then ?" asked he in a
tone of surprise.
" Not exactly now," replied Mrs. Spicer pleased
at her own sagacity ; " but it seems so natural,
VOL. in. K
194- CLARA FANE.
since he is married, that his wife should be seat
for, you know."
" Not in this case," said the lawyer, smiling.
"I fancy few people would be less welcome. 1
will, however, take care to let her know in case
of his decease ; but I do not think it my duty
to disobey his commands at the present juncture
of affairs."
As there was no persuading Mr. Mackintosh,
he was allowed to retire, and the sick man was
again left to the care of Mrs. Spicer. He lingered
on, with only sufficient consciousness of his posi-
tion to be extremely irritable ; at length one morn-
ing as she was moving about in his room, Mrs.
Spicer observed that he suddenly made an effort
to raise himself in bed, and seemed searching for
some object which he could not reach.
" Where have they hid it !" exclaimed he ;
it is properly attested, and I have taken care of
him at last he will be a rich man why should
he reproach me then ? and as for her she shall
get only what the law gives her; not a penny
more. Do you hear ? Mackintosh, what are you
about ? Give me the pen, Fll "
But the sentence begun was never destined
to be finished. Mr. Frewen before it was con-
cluded had sunk back upon his pillow and ex-
pired.
CLARA FANE. 195
Mrs. Spicer instantly summoned Dr. Cowley,
and the lawyer was sent for in all haste.
" Well," said he, " there is nothing now to be
done but to send immediately to Mrs. Wybrow,
whose present address I have only ascertained
lately, and we must communicate to her accord-
ingly."
" Wybrow !" exclaimed Mrs. Spicer ; " what
relation then is she to Mr. Frewen V
" Oh, ma'am," replied Mr. Mackintosh, " the
secret must come out, for there's no reason it
should not now. The name of Frewen was only
assumed by your late lodger for Iris own reasons
he was, in fact, Mr. Matthew Wybrow, and the
lady to whom I alluded is his widow ; a person
much younger than himself, who, for her own rea-
sons, has been also going by another name, and
calls herself Mrs. Frillet."
" What !" exclaimed Mrs. Spicer ; " then she
must be the very lady that came to this
house in a brougham, and took away Miss Fane
and her aunt into the country. Was there ever
anything so odd ! that the husband and wife
should be in the same house together and not
know it !"
"That is indeed a curious fact," said Mr.
Mackintosh, " and if 1 had known it would have
K 2
196 CLAEA FANE.
saved me some trouble in tracing her. I did so
at the desire of her husband, from whom she was
separated ; not because he wanted to see her, but
in order that he might avoid her. He has been
at hide and seek for several years since his return
from India, and assumed another name that she
should not discover him, and force him to make
her an allowance. I have long tried to persuade
him to do so, and give up the miserable life he
was leading, but his obstinacy was unbounded,
and his dislike of her so remarkable, that he
vowed he would rather live in a garret all his
days than be made to give her a penny of his
money."
" Can young Wybrow, who should have mar-
ried my poor Maria, " faltered Mrs. Spicer, wiping
her eyes, " be any relation of his, do you think ?
in that case he may come in for something,
poor fellow."
" I do not think it unlikely," said the lawyer,
"though he only spoke of a brother, whom he
had not seen for thirty years."
""Wybrow's father, perhaps," cried she, "my
dear child used to tell me he had an uncle who
had gone to India, and never been since heard of.
Was the old gentleman rich?"
" He had a very large property," replied Mr.
Mackintosh, " a very large one we must ascertain
CLARA FANE. 197
who these Wybrows are you speak of. Do you
know where they are to be found ?"
" I know where the mother is," said Mrs.
Spieer j " she can be written to at Loftus Hall,
Derbyshire."
" I will undertake to apprise her," said Dr.
Cowley; "if Mr. Loftus's protege should turn
out to be the heir, the money of this strange man
will not be ill bestowed."
"Poor Maria!" sobbed Mrs. Spieer; "its all
of no use to me now ! and he, poor thing, I
daresay he will only regret that she can never
share it with him."
This reflection overwhelmed poor Mrs. Spieer
with sorrow, and she was in the midst of a pas-
sion of tears when a knock at the street door
startled her.
" Lord bless me !" exclaimed she, " if I wasn't
certain that William Wybrow was at this identical
moment in Egypt, I could swear to his knock
how foolish I as if it could be him."
But her amazement was extreme when on
descending to the passage and having opened the
door she beheld no other than William Wybrow
himself his face radiant with pleasure, his eyes
bright with expectation, and his whole appearance
expressive of cheerfulness and joy.
J98 CLARA FANE.
Mrs. Spicer, with a loud scream, rushed into
the little parlour, where she threw herself on a
chair and covered her face with her hands.
Wybrow followed in astonishment at this re-
ception.
" What is the matter, dear Mrs. Spicer ?"
cried he ; "I wrote to tell Maria of my arrival,
but I fancy my impatience has outstriped the
post. I am afraid I have alarmed you by this
sudden apparition where is the dear girl ? I
hope she is well, "
Mrs. Spicer answered not, but continued to
sob and to rock herself backwards and forwards
on her chair. Wybrow surveyed her in a state of
trepidation he glanced at her black dress he
looked round the room he saw that the piano-
forte was removed, that there was no music book
on the accustomed stand he rushed towards the
door of Mr. Grimford's room, and opened it sud-
denly. Mr. Grimford looked up from his drawing-
table, and with an exclamation jumped up, over-
setting his portfolio.
" Good God I" cried Wybrow, " some dreadful
calamity has happened where is Maria ! "
Mr. Grimford stood staring at him with a
face of wonder.
" Don't you know then/' he exclaimed, " that
she died more than two months ago ?"
CLARA FANE. 199
Wybrow started back, uttered a cry and fell
senseless on the ground.
* * * *
* * * *
A heartbreaking explanation followed this
scene. It appeared that circumstances connected
with the death of the chief officer of the Nile
expedition had occasioned the discoverers to give
up further researches for a time, and their return
to Europe, with the treasures of knowledge which
they had acquired, was hastened accordingly.
The loss of a mail- packet had deprived Wybrow
of all the letters he should have received, and
when he reached Southampton he had posted one
to Maria, full of joyous expectation, exulting hope
and delight at the prospect of seeing her soon.
- That letter arrived a few hours after he did,
in Poland Street, and found him prostrated by a
high fever, which he had escaped throughout his
journey across the heated deserts he had ex-
plored, and which awaited him, together with the
announcement of his unmitigable misfortune.
For several weeks Mrs. Spicer and his mother
who had been summoned from Derbyshire, and
had arrived to find the desolation of heart and
dangerous sickness of the son she adored, sat by
his bed-side the same bed in which his Maria
200 CLARA FANE.
breathed her last and expected every hour that
he would follow her, for whom they mutually
grieved ; but nature was stronger than his sorrow,
and he was slowly recovering from the worst part
of the attack when Mr. Loftus arrived in London.
A letter from Mrs. Wybrow telling the sad
story of her son's return and the danger he was
in, and entreating him if possible to come to re-
lieve the anxious inquiries which Wybrow ceased
not to make after his friend, had been attended
to with a promptitude which caused Loftus to
suffer in the estimation of Clara, whom he ab-
ruptly quitted at Como.
His business now was to remove his friend to
a more suitable dwelling, and a small house was
soon taken for Mrs. Wybrow in the outskirts of
the town, where the air was purer, and where his
mother was able to surround him with more con-
veniences than in Mrs. Spicer's confined lodg-
ings.
Here Loftus devoted himself to the unfortu-
nate young man with all the tenderness of an
attached brother, and it was then that he saw
lawyers and arranged all the necessary business
consequent on William Wybrow' s succession to
twenty thousand pounds, left him by his uncle as
his brother's heir.
Alas ! when Wybrow recovered, after several
CLARA FANE. 201
months, from his severe illness and found him-
self an independant man, sad were his reflections
on the insufficiency of wealth to restore happiness.
That his mother was placed far beyond the reach
of want for the future was a balm to his mind
which assisted in consoling him for the terrible
disappointment of all his hopes and wishes ; and
he indulged also in the satisfaction of providing
for the declining years of Mrs. Spicer, whom he
induced to give up her lodging-house and retire
to a small, pretty cottage in one of the villages
near London, where she had a few acquaintances,
and would find some society.
Here she was sometimes visited by Mr. Grim-
ford who, though he condescended to accept her
hospitality never came any nearer the proposal
which, in former day, she had waited so anxi-
ously for, and which it had become second-nature
to her to expect. He was a trifle less gruff than
before, and, on the whole, appeared on his visit-
ing days a more humanised being, and, as the
country air freshened his spirits and improved
his appetite, he rarely exhibited himself in a
disagreeable point of view. It was both a relief
to his ill-temper and a triumph to Mrs. Spicer
to hear that the person who had succeeded her,
giving a small sum of money for the goodwill
K 3
202 CLARA PANE.
of her establishment, was far from giving satis-
faction, and consequently Mr. Griraford had an
opportunity of constantly threatening to leave his
lodgings at an early period, which threat was, how-
ever, not put into execution.
CLARA FANE. 203
CHAPTER XIV.
That light we thought would last,
Behold even now 'tis past
And all our morning dreams,
Have vanished with its beams.
Moore.
MEANTIME, day after day glided on, and still Sir
Anselm was delayed at Milan in consequence of
the continued indisposition of the Countess Al-
theim. They had a flying visit from her son, who
was on his way back to Vienna to join his regi-
ment, and had left her in charge of her attentive
brother-in-law who sent greetings to each and all
of his friends at Como, but begged them to be
patient with him a little longer.
The sisters and Clara continued, therefore, to
regret his absence instead of welcoming his arrival,
and amused themselves occasionally in visiting his
villa on the other side of the lake, which was
only inhabited at present by Italian servants
hired for the occasion at Como. The different
204 CLARA FANE.
chambers were arranged by their care, and
various elegant trifles were carried there in order
to surprise him and to please the new acquaint-
ance to whose arrival they all looked forward
with much delight.
Another of their occupations was rowing to
Como, where Mr. Loftus was, for the present
established, in order to watch the boat-building
of Cristofero, who was so much engaged in it
that he could scarcely allow himself to quit this
favourite employ for an hour, and he even tore
himself away from it with difficulty when his
services were required by his master, being con-
vinced that when he had once succeeded in build-
ing a boat accordingly to Ids own plan no one
acquainted with his master, who had an oppor-
tunity of witnessing its superiority, would think
of entering the unwieldy tubs that, according to
his notion, disfigured the lake of Como.
The sisters were fond of opposing his opinion
in jest, in order to bring forth the entertaining
energy of his asseverations.
" I am sure," said Claudia, " your boat will
not be half so good as those nice broad ones
with room for a table inside, so convenient and
with such pretty striped awnings over the great
hoops. I am quite satisfied, and will never get into
your new one which will upset and drown us all."
CLARA FANE. 205
" You shall see," replied Cristofero, speaking,
as he was wont to do when excited on certain
subjects, in the dialect common to his class a
mode of speech which he knew amused the young
ladies : " I build a 'Mudian boat, regular clipper ;
very long over all, flush deck, no gunwales, plenty
of beam, good hold of the water, nothing upset
her; mast stepped close to the bows, five and
forty feet high without the gaff, rake very much,
go close to the wind, three p'ints and a half either
way, blow as hard as you like, sea mountains high,
nothing to the 'Mudian, she go right through all
only get wet jacket p'raps, long as you keep her
off the rocks she nebber go down ha, ha, ha," and
he showed his white teeth and laughed till the
tears ran from his eyes.
" What does he mean by a Mudian ?" asked
Claudia of Mr. Loftus, as they rowed home.
" He is a native of the Island of Bermuda, as
you have heard him say/' said Edmond, " where
the boats are of a particular build and are able to
live in the wild seas that surround that coral
coast, originally discovered by means of shipwreck
and too often visited in the same manner. Both
the boats and the pilots are famous ; the latter steer
by looking into the water, for their sight is so pierc-
ing that they can avoid every rock and reef
against which their vessel might strike : they are
206 CLARA FANE.
excellent sailors, so I have no doubt Cristofero
will make something good of his hobby though
it will not be much required on this lake probably,
where the large cumbrous craft we generally use
answers very well, and where the steamer suits
all the purposes of celerity. But I do not oppose
the good creature whose vanity is pleased by being
thus employed."
From the time that Clara had received from
Edmond Loftus the unequivocal declaration of
his attachment, she had avoided being alone with
him, desirous that the subject should not be re-
newed. Very far was she from being satisfied
with the turn things had taken, yet she felt that
she acted according to the dictates of duty and
honour.
" If I am really so dear to him," she thought,
" he will be content to await some change in my
present resolution, and I should thus have confi-
dence in his sincerity. I fear he is guided merely
by the caprice of the moment, and, in that case,
I should injure both him and myself by consent-
ing to be his wife. If, hereafter, he still feels the
same I shall be happier in agreeing to his wish,
being certain that he really loves me, and my
scruples will then be at an end."
With regard to Loftus himself he had re-
CLARA FANE. 207
solved to act iu so patient and prudent a manner
that Clara should have no excuse for persisting iu
her refusal. He respected her delicacy and
approved her feeling, although he had no inten-
tion whatever of submiting to the tyranny of her
decision.
" She is very young/' said he, " and unpro-
tected as she is has reason for her caution,
particularly as it must be confessed that I have
not altogether acted in a manner to inspire her
with confidence. I will console myself with the
hope that ' Le temps viendra,' and meantime be as
content as circumstances and woman's caprice
will allow."
It was in the midst of these good resolutions
that, to the infinite amazement of the whole
party, and to the vexation of Cristofero, whose
vessel was now nearly completed and when he
hoped soon to exhibit its manoeuvres on the lake,
Mr. Loftus suddenly disappeared from Como,
without a word of explanation, and left his friends
in a state of disappointment and uncertainty.
Clara could not regard his absence in a favour-
able point of view ; she imagined that, weary of
the restraint she had imposed on him, he had
resolved to put an end to it at once, to break off
all further connexion, and to seek elsewhere for
the excitement he loved. It was not without
208 CLARA FANE.
tears that she arrived at this conviction, and
although she endeavoured to applaud her own
heart for its courage in rejecting that which she
desired, a certain regret would, nevertheless, in-
trude which she could not altogether subdue. She
felt too much inclined to say with the poet
" Celui qui, pour me fuir, a quitte ces beaux lieux
Ne m'aura pas quitte si'l m'avez dit adieu !"
" I have been," she thought, " too severe, and
he consequently thinks me indifferent. He is,
therefore, perhaps less to blame than myself, but
it is clear that his is an unreasonable character on
which I must not rely. My heart is but too much
inclined to be indulgent and I must keep guard
upon it : there is but one thing sure in this life,
and that is that our existence is all struggle,
either a bodily or a mental one, and rest is what
we may vainly seek. It arrives only at the last.
Poor Maria ! I have wept her fate instead of
rejoicing in it. She knew only happiness during
the brief space of her innocent career : all who
surrounded loved her and she was never deceived.
She died with a mother's devotion and care still
hovering round and cherishing her, and with the
certainty that he she had chosen was true to her.
No caprice, no uncertainty came between their
affection, and though her lot was humble she had
CLARA FANE. 209
never known reverses, had never been obliged to
strive for the means of living. Alas ! for my part,
' I 'giii to be aweary of the sun.'
Yet, this is ungrateful to the Providence that has
so much protected me ; I, a foundling, an unhappy
outcast, depending on chance bounty and benevo-
lence in the helpless years of infancy, and since
then received and kindly treated by strangers till
they have become to me more than many rela-
tions are ! What must be the ties of blood when
affections independent of them are of such quick
growth ! would that Edmond Loftus were really
what I ought to love !"
Like all her reveries these reflections ended
with his name, and after a great deal of reasoning
she returned to her first thought and set herself
" To weave the web again."
But while she thus dreamt on, a new source of
disquietude was preparing for Clara, originating in
a quarter which she could not have anticipated.
She had observed that ever since the arrival of Lady
Seymour the manner of that lady towards her was
otherwise than cordial, and of late it had become
extremely cold. There was a haughtiness and
distance which she had endeavoured not to see as
long as possible, but, more particularly since the
210 CLARA FANE.
absence of Mr. Loftus it had increased, and she
could no longer doubt that she had fallen under
the displeasure of the aunt of her pupils, she
could not understand why.
But though this was sufficiently annoying it
was almost forgotten in the greater vexation of
observing, that within a short time Claudia had
avoided her, had looked upon her with an expres-
sion she had never before known, and that a chill
had come over her affection quite unaccounted
for. At first, seeing the progress of her intimacy
with the Marquis, she had looked upon the cir-
cumstance as merely owing to the pre-occupation
of her mind, and had not noticed it ; but it was
now become too evident, and she felt that some
extraordinary revulsion of feeling had taken
place.
The Marquis had left the lake to meet some
near relations, who had summoned him to Genoa,
and they were now alone together : Claudia might
naturally be expected to be pensive on this first
parting from one who was her acknowledged
lover, but her manner was not that of melancholy,
it was cold and serious, and she sought the society
of Lady Seymour in preference to her own or her
sister's. As Clara had never been able to control
either of these young ladies beyond what their
own inclinations permitted, she did not enforce
CLARA FANE. 211
on Claudia, who was more than ever averse to
learn, the necessity of attending to study : she
therefore gave herself up to Sybilla, who had
taken a violent passion for perfecting herself
in German, and they passed most of their
time now together, leaving Claudia and her aunt
to themselves.
From being looked up to and consulted, cared
for and affectionately attended to, as if to please
her was the first wish of the whole family, she
now found herself almost neglected, her conver-
sation scarcely listened to, her desires unfulfilled,
and her presence unwelcomed.
"This then," she reflected, "is the fate of
dependence. Novelty and caprice govern all.
Where there are no ties of relationship the
slightest accident will alter every feeling which
appeared to exist, and the favourite of a day will
be thrown aside as carelessly as an old garment.
Claudia is but a child still, and has been worked
upon by some one, or has taken some false views of
her own dignity as an heiress and one about to
become a married woman ; this may be natural,
perhaps, and I must take opportunities of cor-
recting the error, but Lady Seymour's conduct
is more inexplicable still and fills me with sur-
prise. She assumes, altogether, an air of com-
mand, and treats me without consideration. As
212 CLARA FANE.
I have really no position but what was granted
me, I have no appeal and must submit, hard as it
is to be nothing where one has once enjoyed all."
The servants of the family had hitherto
obeyed her as the mistress of the establishment,
referred, as they always had been, to her by
Claudia ; but now her commands were scarcely
noticed, and there was a carelessness about them
all which showed plainly that they were influenced
by some inimical feeling.
In particular she was struck by the flippant
rudeness of Giulia, the confidential maid of her
pupils, who had, till now, been extremely sub-
servient and civil. On one occasion she appeared
inclined to throw the veil entirely aside, for in the
presence of Lady Seymour and Claudia, when Clara
desired her to perform some trifling office for her-
self, Giulia turned her back on her suddenly and,
without a reply, quitted the room. As Claudia
took no notice of this impertinence, and Lady
Seymour gave an approving glance, Clara saw,
with extreme distress, that the slight was intended.
" Claudia," said she, gently, " did you observe
that your maid is not respectful to me ? I imagine
not, as you took no notice. Remember, my dear
pupil, that, as your governess, I am, at least, so
near to you that any rudeness to me is disrespect
to yourself."
CLARA FANE. 213
Claudia blushed, looked down, but did not
reply ; and Lady Seymour answered
" I am sorry, Miss Fane, that the manners of
my nieces' people are not refined enough for
you; I really did not see that poor Giulia was
rude ; she is accustomed to attend to her young
mistresses only, and, probably, did not think her
duty required a further extension of her services.
There are bounds to all pretensions, you know,
which must be marked."
Clara thought it better not to make any re-
joinder to this observation, and retired to her
room, out of spirits and distressed. There she
could not restrain her tears, when a soft tap at
her room door obliged her to rouse herself, and
Sybilla entered. She looked at her fixedly and
then sat down.
"My dear governess," said she, "you have
been crying, and so has Claudia, too. What is
the matter with the whole family ? I think we
have taken leave of our senses ; nobody is a bit
like what they were a little while ago, and yet I
can't see that anything has happened. Mr.
Clark says it is the east wind makes all the world
cross, for even Cristofero is sulky because Mr.
Loftus is gone off in such a hurry. Now, I am
determined to understand it and put people to
rights. I asked Claudia what made her cry, and
214 CLARA FANE.
she says its you ; if I ask you, you will say it is
she. Auntie Seymour looks mysterious, and says
I am to young too understand it ; now, I'm sure
I'm. as wise as she is, at any rate. Giulia, when
1 scolded her just now for not doing as you told
her, was saucy ; altogether I am quite amazed, so
pray try and explain."
Clara tried to laugh and persuade her that
there was nothing in the affair, but Sybilla was
too sharpsighted not to be convinced that some-
thing had gone wrong.
"Now/' said she "I will tell you what has
come into my head : Giulia has had a letter from
Paris, from some friend of hers, and she has
shown it to Auntie Seymour. I heard her say,
when she thought I was out of hearing ' Who
could have thought she was a friend of that girl?'
to which Giulia replied ' Oh yes, milady, and
master knew her before he took her to be the
governess of the young ladies, and only did it for
a blind.' They must have meant you, I think,
and what they meant I can't think, but auntie
said f l must get rid of her quietly.' Now, if
they are plotting against you I am determined to
oppose them ; it is done out of jealousy, I know,
because auntie Seymour wants to marry Sir An-
selm and be rich, and she thinks he likes you
best Giulia has said so a hundred times."
CLARA FANE. 215
Clara listened to all this in breathless surprise,
and, bewildered with the suddeness of the charge
against her, she found difficulty in collecting her
thoughts to answer
" My darling Sybilla, thanks for your good
intentions, but do not, I entreat, say a word, or
act unadvisedly ; almost all differences can be ad-
justed if a proper explanation is made at a right
time, and there can be nothing of what I am
accused which a few words will not at once set
to rights. I will speak first to Lady Seymour
and afterwards to Claudia, whose coldness has, I
confess, been the only thing that has wounded
me."
" She is a foolish thing," said Sybilla, " and I
will go and tell her to come and beg your pardon
directly, and let us all be as happy as before. I
will write and make dear Sir Anselm return;
auntie Seymour was always famous for squabbles,
and Fm sure she will only make everything
worse."
Clara lost no time in sending a message to
Lady Seymour requesting to speak to her, and
she received an answer, brought by Giulia, that
she might go to her room whenever she pleased.
She accordingly went, and found her ladyship
seated, as usual, before her easel, making as if
she were executing a large landscape in oils.
216 CLARA FANE.
" Oh, Miss Fane/' she said, in a condescend-
ing tone, "you are right to ask this interview. I
dare say you see yourself the necessity of matters
coming to a conclusion; these sort of deceits
must end sooner or later. I am ready to hear
your own explanation of your conduct."
" Madam/' said Clara, " I am come to entreat
an explanation of yours; a few moments ago I
should not have thought of doing so, but a word
overhead by Sybilla and communicated to me has
so much surprised and distressed me that I can-
not delay begging to know what I am supposed
to have done which has caused my position in this
family to be so suddenly changed."
" Read this letter, Miss Fane/' replied Lady
Seymour, majestically ; " let me entreat you not
to make a scene I do not wish you to confess on
your knees ; but I have duties to perform to the
children of my dear, departed, lamented, excellent,
nephew, which oblige me to commit the indeli-
cacy of entering into particulars quite contrary to
my habits."
Clara took the letter offered her, and turned it
over without recognising the hand. It was writ-
ten in bad English, and was addressed to Mdle.
Guilia from a friend in Paris : it was thus con-
ceived.
" When we parted ia London I told you of
CLARA FANE. 217
the new place I had got with Mrs. Montague
who lived like a princess, and I thought was quite a
lady, but she turned out to be the chere amie ot
Mr. Luttrel only think how odd ! I went with
them to Paris, and there I had a fine life of it,
for mistress was for ever quarrelling with him
because she expected he would have married her.
I used to listen and heard her abuse him, and he
was always taunting her about that Miss Fane,
who is governess to his daughters, and used to be
a friend of Mrs. Montague's, and saying she
was ten times handsomer than she was, and that
she had promised to run off with him whenever
he liked. He was very aggravating, and would
laugh ready to kill himself to see her in such a
passion. He was a very vain man, and believed
all the world was in love with him, though I'm
sure I gave him no encouragement. Well, you
know how he got killed in a duel with that
French Count that Mrs. Montague ran to when
they had their last quarrel and serve him right
too Fve no patience with such men. I wonder
if your governess has been found out yet ? misses
does hate her so."
There was more to the same purpose, which
Clara did not think proper to read ; she had seen
enough to prove to her that her situation was a
VOL. III. L
218 CLARA FANE.
very painful and awkward one, and she felt that
she had a difficult task before her.
" Lady Seymour/' said she, laying the letter
on the table near her, " I presume you do not
intend to be advised by such persons as the writer
of this letter or the receiver. I have nothing to
say to the communication it contains, since I
could have no possible control over the assertions
of Mr. Luttrel, uttered to a woman in the posi-
tion of this Mrs. Montague, of whom I have no
knowledge whatever."
" You assert then," said Lady Seymour, " that
you are not a friend of this Mrs. Montague or
Celia Sawyer, or whatever her name may be ?"
Clara started, and the movement was not un-
observed by Lady Seymour.
"Oh, you begin to recollect, I see," she
observed.
"1 recognise/' said Clara, "in the name you
have last mentioned, a young woman who was
known to a respectable family of my acquaintance
who informed me of her breach of propriety, but
neither they nor I ever were aware that it was
with Mr. Luttrel she left her home. I never
knew Mr. Luttrel till I entered Lis family, al-
though I had seen him once in the street, and
been distressed by ungentleman-like conduct,
which was, I am sorry to think, probably habitual
CLARA FANE.
to him. Thus far I of course can explain the
fact of my name being mentioned in the society
where it seems to have been a theme beyond
this I am quite ignorant, and I do not consider
it suitable to my dignity nor that of yourself or
my pupils that 1 should further notice it. The
character of the unfortunate Mr. Luttrel was
better known to your ladyship than to me, and
you cannot be, therefore, so much surprised as I
am at the lightness with which he made free with
the reputation of others. I ought to have been
told of this before, but I thank you for acquaint-
ing me with it even now. I hope Miss Luttrel
has not read the letter I have seen the allu-
sion to her father's death I trust has prevented
that."
Lady Seymour looked confused and annoyed
at the calmness of Clara, and replied
"Of course not; such subjects are unfit for
her age. I was prepared for your denying all
this, but you must see that I have duties which
prevent my agreeing to your remaining longer
with my nieces under the present cloud which
obscures you. My nerves will not permit of scenes,
therefore pray spare me any, and let me beg of
you to*. accept the notice I now give you, that
your services may cease from this time. You
will observe that it will be better that all should
L 2
220 CLARA FANE.
be settled before the return of Sir Anselm Fair-
fax, as I really cannot have explanations on so
indelicate a subject made to him, and if you do
not go, you know, the poor girls will be brought
in and obliged to know all about it/'
" Do you suppose, madam," said Clara, " that
I shall allow such charges as these to influence my
destiny and take no steps to have them falsified ?
I am convinced that Sir Anselm will treat all this
absurd scandal as it deserves, and, as guardian of
my pupils, it is to him that I shall appeal."
" Indeed I" exclaimed Lady Seymour, red-
dening ; " you seem to know your power, madam ;
but I am guardian also, and as a female relative
have a right to dictate in such a point, and I
think having been always a mother to those dear
children, my right will be acknowledged even
before that of your protector."
" I cannot conceive that you will be so un-
just towards me," said Clara, mildly, " as to pre-
vent my asking Sir Anselm' s advice."
" It will not alter my intentions I assure you,"
replied Lady Seymour ; " but I will not detain you
longer, Miss Fane : I have done my duty in ex-
plaining matters, and wish you had been able to
make me see your conduct in a clearer light.
Whenever you think proper to leave this place
your convenience shall be attended to. I will
CLARA FANE. 221
send some one with you as far as you like on your
way back to your friends all I beg is that you
will not linger in the neighbourhood, as it might
unsettle the minds of the poor children."
222 CLARA FANE.
CHAPTER XV.
Oh ! if it prove,
Tempests are kind and salt waves fresh in love !
Twelfth Night.
AFTER such an interview as that which had taken
place, Clara saw that the determination of Lady
Seymour was that she should leave her situation.
When she returned to her chamber she sat for
some time motionless and cold, overcome with the
mortifying conviction of her fortunes depending
on circumstances and persons so mean and so
false as those whose influence she felt.
To appeal to the affections of her pupils she
felt was wrong, as, either Claudia had already
given her up in consequence of false representa-
tions made to induce her to do so, or in case of
explanations being called forth, the sad secret of
the mode of her father's death might be revealed
> too suddenly, and occasion the sorrow of her
future life.
CLARA FANE. 223
After reflecting for awhile she came to the
resolution of leaving the villa, and repairing to
Como, from whence she proposed to herself to
write to Sir Anselni and state to him her circum-
stances, entreating his protection and advice.
A note from Lady Seymour put an end to her
dilemma ; for she informed Clara that she had
considered it so much better to avoid " a scene "
that she had induced the young ladies to go out
with her to the villa at Varenna the following
day, and she had ordered a boat to be ready at
her service, during their absence, which would
take her to the inn at Como, from whence her
homeward journey would begin.
Enclosed was a sum of money more liberal
than would have been offered her if the funds,
from which it was derived, had been drawn from
her own resources ; but Lady Seymour was very
generous and just in her payments for the orphans,
whose ample fortunes made economy unneces-
sary.
With a sinking heart Clara was obliged to
accept this sum, as she knew that for some time
she should be obliged to meet expences to which
she had hitherto been quite a stranger, and as it
was merely her due and the payment of her ser-
vices, she endeavoured to repress the tears of pride,
which would flow in spite of herself.
224 CLARA FANE.
" For the first time then/' said she, " I know
what is the value of this
' Yellow, glittering, precious gold,'
which enables the rich to insult and oppress the
poor; perhaps, in future, my experience will be-
come more extensive in this as in other mortifica-
tions, as the changes in the atmosphere of my
life exhibit clouds of various forms and hues. I
must leave then these beloved beings, whom I
considered bound to me by ties which could not
be lightly broken it will, however, be, I am con-
vinced, only for a time. Sir Anselm will not
abandon me. Claudia will soon be convinced by
him, and, if I am not deceived in his friendship
also, he will take such steps as shall restore me
to them once more."
Reassured by this reflection she passed a tole-
rably quiet day, and got through their evening
row on the lake better than she expected, with
Lady Seymour, Sybilla, and Clark. Claudia hav-
ing excused herself from being of the party.
Lady Seymour talked of their intended excur-
sion on the following day, and remarked that as
Miss Fane had been before and she knew she was
occupied, they would not tax her politeness to
accompany them.
The way thus paved, Clara saw them the next
CLARA FANE. 225
morning leave the villa at an earlier hour than Lady
Seymour generally quitted her room, and, about
an hour afterwards, another boat appeared at the
foot of the marble steps, into which she saw her
own baggage put, and was then informed by a
servant that all was prepared for her departure,
and that he had been desired, if she wished it, to
accompany her to Como, where her apartments
had been ordered at the hotel.
The morning had been extremely brilliant :
not a single cloud obscured the blue sky, and the
snowy summits of the highest mountains appeared
clear and sharp against the fine background it
presented. Clara had hurried into the gardens
and visited every familiar terrace, pausing at each
accustomed spot and lingering in every bower she
had loved so well. As she leant over the balus-
trades of a platform, where a fountain threw up a
silver jet to dash it back again upon a luxuriant
mass of odoriferous shrubs, a few large drops of
rain fell and, across the lake, a low moan of the
rising wind told that a change of weather was at
hand.
Fearing that her voyage might be arrested if
she delayed, she hastily descended the steps and
entered the boat : declining, however, the services
of the man who had offered to accompany her, as
she was well enough acquainted with her destina-
L 3
226 CLARA FANE.
tion not to require them. He did not seem sorry
to be spared the duty, and she accordingly was
pushed off by the hired boatman into the middle
of the lake. Scarcely had they rowed a few yards
when again the low moan of the wind was heard,
and a black cloud spread i'.self across the sky,
while a vivid flash darting from it was welcomed
by a roar of thunder so loud and sudden that
every hill seemed to shake and tremble with its
voice. Without a moment's warning more a de-
luge of rain descended, the wind rose in a hurri-
cane and the waters, leaping up round them,, as if
terrified by this sudden burst of fury, dashed over
the boat from whence the boatman was endeavour-
ing as quickly as possible to drag off the awning,
the curtains of which gathered the wind. In
such an instant had the blast taken them that
the unwieldy craft was nearly overset and one of
the oars was washed into the waters the boat-
man made a sudden snatch to recover it, but
while he did so another cracking burst of thunder
and lightning opened all the sky, and a terrific wind
came rushing down the lake, whirling the boat
round and round like a child's toy. Clara Avas
thrown by a wave prostrate at the bottom, and
when she looked up she was alone at the mercy of
one of those terrific storms which defy all calcu-
CLARA FANE. 227
lation, and which can transform the calm paradise
of those lovely lakes into a boiling ocean of
tumultuous danger in an instant.
She lay in an agony of terror, grasping the
timbers nearest her and creeping under the seat,
while the boat went on hither and thither, now
nearly filled with water, now turned almost over
on its side, now striking against rocks near the
shore, now dashed against floating bulks of trees,
which the violence of the storm had twisted from
the earth and hurled into the lake. Every echo
resounding with the voice of the thunder, every
peak alight with the dancing lightning, and the
raging hurricane careering over the waters.
Far away drifted the battered vessel in which
Clara lay, scarcely conscious of the terrible dan-
ger which threatened her, and chilled and stunned
by the beating waves and the resounding thun-
der. A dark mist had now shrouded everything,
the shores were invisible, and not a mountain
showed its head.
At length she felt that the motion was rather
less violent, and though she was still tossed hither
and thither, it was with some abatement of the
fury of the storm, she raised herself a little, and
ventured to look over the side; but, at that mo-
ment, a deeper swell, a louder growl was heard,
and she was dashed back again. She had time
228 CLARA FANE.
alone to perceive that another danger had over-
taken her ; for, advancing with more than usual
celerity, she perceived the steam packet, which was
hastening toward its daily destination with pas-
sengers from Como to the other extremity of the
lake. Rapid as was the glance she was enabled
to give, she saw also that a very short distance
behind another vessel was coming at a speed
scarcely short of it, and, by the immense length
of the white sail, which now lay almost flat upon
the surface of the water, she recognised the
Bermudian boat of Cristofero.
In another instant she felt that her wretched
little bark was being impelled towards the
steamer, she uttered a loud shriek and waved a
handkerchief she held, in the faint hope of
attracting attention, but no time was left for a
pause the steamer swept on, her boat was thrown
exactly in its way, and a whelming rush of waters
burst and closed above her head.
# * * #
# * * x-
The excursion of the sisters and Lady Sey-
mour had been from Menaggio, in a small carriage
across to Porlezza by a charming valley, where
two beautiful little lakes offer a miniature resem-
blance to that of Como. The storm had overtaken
them in the valley and entirely spoilt the enjoy-
CLARA FANE. 229
ment of the day, so that they were fain to return
as quickly as they could, but not before they had
passed some hours in a wretched hovel, glad to
take shelter wherever it could be found. They
were wet, wearied out and dispirited, when they re-
turned, and the first movement of Sybilla on
entering the villa was to run to Clara's room, the
do'T of which she threw open, and began to
exclaim about their disasters as she did so when
perceiving it empty and the air of gloom and
vacancy which always pervades a place no longer
tenanted striking upon her xvith a chill, she darted
back again to her sister, calling for Clara and
begging to know where she was.
There was great confusion below the servants
all surrounding Lady Seymour, who was in hys-
terics, screaming violently, while Guilia stood by
wringing her hands, listening to the story of a
man who was relating with all the exaggerations
of fear, the accident of the morning.
He affirmed that the young lady was cut to
pieces by the steamer, the boatman swallowed up,
the steamer gone down, and the Porgy swamped.
All this was told and repeated over and over
again, while the standers by heard it, passing
through various stages of horror.
" Poor Miss Fane, such a nice young lady !
Pm sure we all liked her so much!" expressed the
230 CLARA FANE.
feelings of all those servants, who had seen her
leave the villa in the morning without the slightest
concern.
Lady Seymour was taken to her room, and
Giulia busied herself about her young mistresses.
" Good gracious," said she, in half English,
" if I'd have known it would have been her death
I would never have show'd that letter only
milady wanted so to have something against
her/'
" What letter, Giulia ?" exclaimed Claudia,
with emphasis, " something wrong has been going
on, and you have all combined to deceive me, and
injure my dear governess. I shall never be happy
again for having been unkind to her."
" Oh," sobbed Giulia, " I didn't invent it,
only milady didn't want you to see the letter
about her I wish I had burnt it ! so she told
me to say my Lord Clairmont was in love with
her instead of you; but he isn't no more than he
is with me it did just as well to set you against
her, and then you needn't know anything about
your papa's goings on, I have the letter here at
this moment."
Claudia looked at her with flashing eyes*
" I would give the world," she said, " to see
that letter give it me. Sybilla," she added,
speaking to her sister and stamping on the ground
CLARA FANE. 231
in an agony of impatience, "make her show it
me."
And both sisters seizing upon their maid, as
they had often done in play, but now in earnest,
forced from her the letter which she had in her
bosom and which she gave up not unwillingly,
impelled by a certain feeling common to vulgar
minds of liking to cause pain by unpleasant dis-
closures.
" Now," said Claudia, " I have it now hear
me, Giulia, and remember it is I who am your real
mistress if ever you dare to repeat a word that
is in this wicked letter, in which my papa's name
is mentioned, if ever you dare to abuse Miss Fane
or side with my aunt against me, I will order you
out of the house that instant without a pension,
and never see you again. There is an end of it
at once !" and without looking at it, she tore the
letter to pieces and threw the fragments from the
window into the lake.
" Now go away," she said, " and repeat to my
aunt what I have said and done, and nurse her,
but do not come near me again, send Ellen."
Giulia slunk away quite abashed, and repaired
to the servants' hall, having no mind to encounter
the remorse of Lady Seymour, who continued to
persist in fainting fits, as she was there informed.
The two sisters sat clasped in each other's
232 CLARA FANE.
arms, silent and solemn, without tears or words,
so appalled were they at the suddenness of the
supposed fate of Clara : their eyes were fixed on
the still perturbed lake, and they watched the
rapid, restless clouds coursing each other over the
sky, when suddenly a bright gleam of sunshine
broke forth, and the whole expanse shone one
mass of deep red gold, sky, lake and mountains.
A.t that instant they discerned at a distance,
advancing very swiftly, the Bermudian boat, with
its high white sail cutting against the sky.
"Look Claudia/' said Sybilla, "it is Cris-
tofero's boat, which we \vere so anxious to see
finished which she would have been so glad to
see \"
And they both burst into a passion of tears.
* * * *
* * * #
"William Wybrow was slowly recovering his
health, and his friend Loftus had now left him to
the care of his mother and was on his return to
Italy. He hesitated, at first, whether he would
not go into Derbyshire and there remain ; but as
it was scarcely advisable that the invalid should
venture on so cold a climate now that the autumn
was advanced, he felt little inducement to go there
alone.
"What have I," he said, "to entice me there?
CLARA FANE. 233
no familiar friends and faces, no dear anxious
being watching iny return. I may come and go,
may travel or remain, no heart is either warmed
or chilled by anything I can do. In such circum-
stances as mine, travel is the only resource ; as it,
at least, affords variety and shows human nature
in its most entertaining form. To those who
have no tie to attach them, England is a melan-
choly spot I could easily feel it otherwise, if my
vain longing for that which is never to be mine,
were accomplished.
" ' There to return and die at home at last '
would be happiness after all: but not alone !
Alone ! the saddest, the most despairing of words !
I have, I fear, played too long with my own happi-
ness, and now I cannot restore the hope I have
thrown away. Yet, I cannot abandon the impression
that Clara loves me, not, Heaven knows, for my
merits but for a woman's reason only, it may
be. She is very resolute in a wrong cause if
she fears my constancy as regards her, that has
not been my failing, and she has cured me, at
last, of mistrust. She is right, however, in what
she said, it is a folly to brave the world and create
scandals if one can help it. I would willingly
not have loved her, but
' My stars are more in fault than I,'
and there is no resisting them."
234 CLARA FANE.
While he was thus musing, his preparations
were, nevertheless, making to take the path that
led to where she was, and he allowed himself to
indulge in a variety of plans to soften Clara's
obduracy and induce her to shorten the time of
his probation. In this mood he arrived at Geneva,
where he found letters from Sir Anselm and Lord
Clairmont, one from Milan, the other from Ve-
nice ; but in neither had he any news of the
dwellers on the Lake, and he felt disappointed
and unhappy as he turned them over in vain, as a
lover
" Looks what the corners, what the crossings tell,
And lifts each folding for a fond farewell."
He threw himself back in his chair and gave him-
self up to uneasy thoughts, when his valet
entered, and by the manner in which he lingered
in the room, as if willing to impart some tidings
yet hesitating to do so, he saw that he waited for
encouragement .
"What news have you, Luigi?" said he,
"from Como I saw you had letters as well as
myself, perhaps you can tell me something, for
my information is barren."
" Then the signor knows nothing !" replied
the valet ; " I thought so, or you would not be so
CLARA FANE. 235
calm. There has been a fearful storm on the
Lake and lives lost."
" Good Heaven \" exclaimed Loftus, " poor
people ! how often that happens at this time of
the year ! is the steamer injured or is it the small
boats that have suffered ?"
" A private boat, signor," replied Luigi, " that
is, a single boat with one rower the man washed
overboard and drowned and the young lady too
there are many reports, but my correspondent wrote
the night the accident occurred, and it was said
other lives were lost as well some say that it was
all owing to Cristofero, whose new vessel has done
great mischief on the Lake, and that he runs
down and sails over everything he meets asr ne
did this doomed one. It is thought he is arrested
and sent to prison, and the vessel confiscated."
Mr. Loftus was extremely annoyed to hear
this.
" I then, by my indulgent folly to a fellow I
knew nothing of," exclaimed he, " have been the
cause of this catastrophe ! Is it known who the
lady was?"
"No, signer, not exactly," said Luigi, "people
say anything at first one must not believe all
so I hope there can be no truth in the report of
its being one of the ladies of the Villa Balbiano."
Edmond started to his feet as if electrified.
236 CLARA FANE.
" I think not," said the frightened valet, " be-
cause she was alone, and those ladies never went
out alone. I believe Miss Fane, the governess,
is gone, signor ; Giulia told a friend of mine that
Lady Seymour meant to send her off before Sir
Anselm came back, so it could not be her
either."
" Give orders for horses instantly," cried
Loftus, " this news is too startling to sleep upon.
Good God ! Sir Anselm evidently knew nothing
of the event when he wrote. Lose no time, I
shall continue my journey at once, I must ascer-
tain the truth of these horrible reports."
From that time till he arrived at the Inn at
Como, his mind was a prey to the most frightful
agitation Clara sent away ! what was the mean-
ing of that ? could it indeed be she who had met
with so sad a fate ! was it one of the sisters !
each of these surmises brought with it agony,
and the nearer he arrived at the spot where his
doubts could be dissipated, the more agitated his
mind became.
CLARA FANE. 237
CHAPTER XVI.
IT is necessary to go back for a few chapters to
the time when the accident just related had over-
taken Clara Fane, and to . relate that Cristofero
had been proceeding quietly for some time with
his building, determined, if possible, to have his
boat completed by the time his truant master re-
turned to Como. He had received from him a
message directly after he had set out so suddenly,
telling him that as soon as the pressing business
that called him away was concluded, he should
return and certainly remain for the winter in
Italy.
He had been a good deal jeered by the boat-
builders of Como, who held his powers in con-
tempt, and he would, had he speculated on his
own account, have been subject to as much en-
mity as he had encountered at Venice ; but, as he
was supposed to obey the caprice of an English
master, his rivals contented themselves with
238 CLARA FANE.
laughing at him, and overwhelming him with all
the wit with which their patois furnished them.
Cristofero, however, had a peculiar fondness for
contention of all kinds, and was never so happy
as when he had difficulties to overcome. He,
therefore, resolutely continued his occupation, and
saw with pride and satisfaction that all went on well.
At length the great deed was accomplished,
and the Bermuda boat, which he christened " the
Porgy/' from some pleasing recollections he pos-
sessed of the ugliest fish on those his native coral
seas, which produce the Angel fish, was launched
on the lake.
He had laid a bet that his boat would, on the
first day of her sailing, outstrip the steamer in
swiftness, and it was ou the morning appointed
for Clara's leaving Balbiano that the match was
to take place. A greater number of passengers
than usual were on board the steamer; for the
morning was peculiarly bright and pleasant, with
a fresh breeze, and all things animated and in-
spirating ; two men from Como were to have the
honour of accompanying Cristofero, to whom he
had explained the advantages and the mysteries
of his craft : as one had been a mariner in the
gulf of Genoa and had no particular interest in
the Como people, he exulted in the preference
shown him.
CLARA FANE. 239
The Porgy and the steam boat accordingly
started at the same time and had gone on in gal-
lant style for a short distance, when the sudden
storm, into the vortex of which Clara had fallen,
overtook them.
The shriek she had uttered had been heard by
those on board the steamer, but not an instant
had been left for them to prevent the accident,
which took place near that part of the lake where
it divides into two arms, one leading to Lecco and
the other towards Colico.
On went the steamer, the Captain conscious
only of having gone over a small boat, which had
been dashed across their course, but they saw
not whether it contained any one; the Bermudian
shot along after it, but the quick ears of Cristofero
had heard a scream and his eagle eyes had seen
the figure of a female for one minute, while in the
next the broken fragments of the devoted bark
strewed the waters round him.
As he rushed to the side, he perceived
a form which had risen twice to the surface, and
then sunk ; he hesitated not a moment, but turn-
ing to his comrades in the vessel, exclaimed
" throw her up to the wind, haul the jib flat \"
and with one spring leaped into the waves and
dived dived as only a native Bermudian can
and after an interval which appeared terribly long
240 CLARA FANE.
to the two men, who, having hurrily obeyed his
orders respecting the vessel, gazed upon the spot
where he went down, he re-appeared, bearing in
one arm the insensible body of a female. So
vigorous were his efforts with his disengaged arm
that he soon iieared them, and was able to catch
the rope they threw out, by means of which in a
short time they drew him and his burthen along
side, and dragged the former into the vessel.
" Thank God I" exclaimed Cristofero as he
leaped in, " the sin is off my mind now !"
The nearest place to where the accident oc-
curred was Yareima, and thither he accordingly
shaped his course : all the inhabitants were on
the steep shores looking, according to custom, at
the steamer's progress, and watching the new
craft which, for the first time, had that day ap-
peared on the lake.
Cristofero, who had by this time recognised
Clara, bore her in his arms at once to the villa of
" Lord Anselmo," as Sir Anselm was called by the
Comasques ; for though he had never been there
before himself nor heard another name for his
master's friend, he was aware that some one
kno\vn to Mr. Loftus resided, or was expected,
there, and he decided at once that he should do
right in claiming hospitality for his charge.
CLARA FANE. 241
With the care of a nurse for an infant the
faithful black stood by, while means were taken
to restore Clara to consciousness, and when he
found that they had succeeded his joy was so in-
tense that it knew no bounjds ; he promised the
wealth of Potosi to all who helped the lady, whom
his quick observation had long since told him was
preferred by Mr. Loftus. And he at length left
her in good keeping, scarcely caring to change his
own wet garments, in order that he might hasten
back to Balbiano and give information there of
the accident.
The two sisters were sitting, as has been de-
scribed, locked in each other's arms and over-
whelmed with sorrow, when the Porgy's sail was
descried by them, and added, by its appearance,
to the misery they were suffering, They con-
tinued to look through their tears in the direc-
tion of its course, and soon observed that it came
nearer.
" Claudia !" exclaimed Sybilla, starting up ;
"Cristofero sees us he waves a white handkerchief
he is making all sorts of signs perhaps he has
heard something and is come on purpose to tell
us."
" Yes !" cried Claudia, " he keeps waving and
shouting to us he has news they cannot be
VOL. in. M
242 CLARA FANE.
bad by his great animation. Let us fly down and
speak to him from the terrace."
As she spoke, with simultaneous spring the
sisters rushed together down the steps and had
reached in a moment the lowest walk, beneath
which the deep water permitted the impetuous
Porgy to approach close to the parapet wall.
" All right ! all safe \" shouted Cristofero, as
they leant over in breathless expectation ; "Missie
Fane is come to life 'Mudian just in time no-
thing but wet jackets after all \"
And his exulting laugh showed that there was
no fable in what he related.
With a loud scream of delight the young girls
flew down the steps.
" Where is she ? take us to her, dear Cristo-
fero !" said they simultaneously, " take us directly
we wont stop for anything."
" Missie Fane is at Lord Anselmo's villa at
Varenna," said he, " but put on your shawls, pic-
caninnies the evening is berry cold run back
arid get them and the Porgy '11 take you there in
the twinkling of an eye."
They were obliged to obey him, and having
caught up the first shawls and cloaks they could
find, the sisters came running back and were
lifted by Cristofero into his boat before any one
CLARA FANE. 243
had time to stop them or enquire the meaning^ of
the visit of this extraordinary vessel, which car-
ried off the young ladies with a speed quite un-
usual on the Lake of Como.
They soon reached Varenna, and never had
the sisters climbed the steps of the orange and
citron-shaded terraces with so much delight as
they now did : with bounding steps and bright
eyes, like young gazelles, they flew along, and
unrestrained by the cautious entreaties of the
nurse who guarded the apartment where Clara
lay and informed them that she slept, they en-
tered.
" Let us in! let us in!" said Claudia; " we will
walk like flies, our steps shall not be heard, only we
must be by her side we must see her the mo-
ment she wakes, and we do not mean to go home
till she is well. Cristofero will return for some
of our servants and all we want so prepare to
have a good deal of trouble, for we mean to give
everybody plenty."
So saying they crept softly into the room
where the rescued Clara lay calmly sleeping, her
face pale and worn, but with a smile on her coun-
tenance and without fever. For a whole hour the
sisters sat by her bed side, silent and watchful,
with their beautiful animated faces half shaded
M 2
244 CLARA FANE.
by the curtains, for they feared to startle her if
she woke suddenly and saw them.
At length she uttered a soft sigh and moved,
and presently afterwards opened her eyes and
gazed round her, as if trying to recognise her
position.
" It is very strange," murmured she, as she
raised herself on the pillow, "can it have been
nothing but a dream ?"
" No, dearest darling," exclaimed Claudia,
leaning over her ; " no, it is all too true but it is
true that you are safe and will soon be well. You
are in dear Sir Anselm's house, we are not wor-
thy that you should be in our's, and here we
mean to stay till he comes himself. I have be-
haved very shamefully to you, and will never
forgive myself."
Clara smiled, and said in a low voice
" Kiss me, both of you, and let us only talk
of the present ; how came I here ? you know my
history better than I can tell it it seems to me
that the steam boat went over me and I was
drowned."
"Now, stay quiet and do not speak," said
Claudia, " while I tell you all about it. Cristo-
fero, that dear old black, who is worth all the
white men in the world, saved you in his charm-
ing Porgy, you remember how we laughed at him
CLARA FANE. 245
for giving it such a name ? he dived for you like a
duck, as he is, and found you at the bottom of the
lake. If it had not been for him I should never
have laughed again.
" He has told us all his history as we came
along, and has been laughing and crying as if he
was a baby. It seems ages ago that everything
happened, before we were born, for he says
it is seventeen years since that he left Bermuda in
charge of his master's little daughter, whose
mamma had died : his wife was the child's
nurse, which was about a year and a half old.
They were bringing it to England, and were
overtaken by just such a storm as this of to-
day, only that it lasted a week and drove them
from their course here and there in the open sea ;
at last the ship struck on a rock, and all on board
perished but himself. He says he has had it on
his mind ever since, that he did not let the waves
wash him off the rocks, or that he did not throw
himself into the sea after the little child, whom
he, however, tried all in his power to save.
"He was always famous for building boats,
and had made a little canoe such as they have in
the West Indies of porcupine's quills stained, of all
colours in patterns, with raottos worked in letters
on the sides how pretty it must be ! this he
made for the little child ; it was not much bigger
246 CLARA FANE.
than a cradle and would stand the sea well, for he
had often tried it on the shore at Bermuda,
"When the storm was at the worst, and he
saw they must be lost, he and his wife fastened
the baby into this odd sort of boat with strong
leather bands, after wrapping it in a great sea
cloak round and round, for he thought it might
float out to sea being so light, and get picked up
or reach the shore somewhere.
" They had hardly done this when the ship
split in two, and the confusion and terror were at
the highest. He tried to save his poor wife, but
she was washed overboard, as well as the little
canoe, and he saw no more till he found himself
in the cleft of a rock with the sea beating over
him.
" From this position he was saved ; but he
said he had better have been drowned then, for
the ship that picked him up was a slaver,
and he has been bought and sold, and bought
again over and over for seventeen years. Isn't
it a curious story ! he says now that he has
saved your life he shall be easier, for he thought
it no better than murder not to have died for that
little child, who was given to his charge. This
we told him, of course, was nonsense, as he could
not have saved it, but lie has odd notions about
it."
CLARA FANE. 247
Clara had listened while Claudia related this
history, with closed eyes, her lips occasionally
murmuring as if in prayer when she paused she
made an effort to speak, and said at length,
feebly
" Did he tell the name of his master ?"
" We were so anxious about you and your
safety," replied Claudia, "that we did not ask
him he seemed so excited too and so full of re-
morse for not saving the baby, that we were glad
to make him attend to his boat and leave off
talking."
"I must see him," exclaimed Clara raising
herself, " I must get up and dress, and speak to
him directly."
The nurse here interposed and entreated that
her patient might be kept quiet, and, after having
received an assurance that she should see Cristo-
fero the next morning, directly she was sufficiently
recovered to exert herself, Clara consented to be
left to herself and the sisters retired to a chamber
that had been prepared for them.
Exhausted with all the exertion she had gone
through, both of mind and body, Clara fell into
a sound sleep which continued the whole night,
and when the bright sun broke into her chamber
in the morning she felt comparatively well. Great
stiffness in her limbs and extreme debility re-
248 CLARA FANE.
mained, but all danger was past and she was able
to leave her bed, and, seated in a large chair close
to the terrace, could look far over the Lake, the
scene of her late misadventure. Her first enquiry
was if the boatman had been saved, and she re-
joiced to hear that the poor fellow had contrived
to swim to the shore though not without difficulty,
and, having been taken care of by the villagers
who found him, was doing well.
Claudia and Sybilla were soon at their post in
attendance, and it was not long before the white
sail of the proud Bermudian came shining along
the waters and approached Varenna. Cristofero
was immediately summoned to attend, and came
smiling joyously to receive the thanks of the
rescued Clara.
"Now, Cristofero/' said she as calmly as she
could, " I have a strange story to tell you, and I
hope, poor as I am, a reward to offer far beyond
all you could desire."
The Bermudian's brow contracted.
" What Missie," said he ; " do you think
Christopher Tucker wants reward for doing his
duty ? Bless your pretty face," he added, seeing
her smile, " she didn't mean it."
" I did not mean the reward you think, Chris-
topher," replied she, " if I had gold to give I feel
you would not accept it although your due
CLARA FANE. 249
but I think I can restore to you your master's
child."
The black started, and, trembling in every
limb, threw himself on his knees before her.
" Tell me if there was not a motto worked on
the canoe you made with quills what was it ?"
"I worked it myself in red and black," exclaimed
Cristofero, "they were three German words; my
dear mistress loved them, and I did it to please
my poor master after she died. The words were
' Trau. Schau. Wem.' "
Clara leant back and gasped for breath.
" Now hear my story," said she, " but first
know that that canoe is at this moment in the
museum at Liverpool."
" Have you seen it !" exclaimed Christopher
leaping up, " and the baby the blessed child of
my poor mistress "
" Is alive," said Clara, " and well, though but
for you she would now be a corpse at the bottom
of the Lake of Como."
At these words the Bermudian, with a loud
cry, threw hin?self again at the feet of Clara, and,
seizing her hands, covered them with kisses,
sobbing and laughing by turns.
" Dear little piccaninny !" cried he, " grovm
into a beautiful woman grown into an angel
M 3
250 CLARA FANE.
oh, my poor master he died of grief, he died of
grief, or what a comfort for him."
"Alas," said Clara, turning very pale, "did
my father die ? how did you hear that, Cristo-
fero?"
" I never heard it," replied he, " but he did,
he must, he adored that babe, and he said to me
when he gave it into my arms ' If I lose my
child it will kill me, I have nothing left besides/"
" Tell me his name !" gasped Clara, pressing
her hands tightly on her heart.
" lie was called," replied Cristofero, " Sir
Anselm Fairfax."
Clara fell back on her chair, while the sisters
screamed in accord
" Milor Anselmo ! Cristofero it is Mil or An-
selmo to whose house you have brought his
daughter."
The raptures of Christopher on this announce-
ment were so great that he could scarcely be kept
in bounds. He leaped, he cried, he clapped his
hands, and ran hither and thither in an extacy of
joy impossible to express, a joy which was shared
by all who saw its effects on him.
" Oh, my dear governess," cried Claudia,
clasping Clara in her arms, "then your name is
not Clara Fane after all 1"
CLARA FANE. 251
" She is Agnes Fairfax she is Agnes like her
mother," screamed Cristofero.
"Always Clara for you, my darlings!" ex-
claimed Clara, pressing them together to her
heart. " I have thought of this, dreamt of this,
hoped it, doubted and tried to drive away the
happy vision from the time Sir Anselm told me
the sorrows of his early life, when we were seated
together in the steam boat on the Danube. I
did not dare to tell him ray anxious surmise, for
fear I should have again deceived myself, as I
had already done on another occasion. Oh, when
will he return Claudia, write at once to him, tell
him to delay no longer, or this joy will kill both
me and Cristofero before he is here to share it."
252 CLARA FANE.
CHAPTER XVII.
Joy must have sorrow sorrow must have joy.
Goethe.
SIR ANSELM FAIRFAX was just on the point of leav-
ing Milan with his sister-in-law, the Countess Al-
theiin, who was now sufficiently recovered to
travel when he received the following letter from
Claudia.
"Now," it began, "dearest Sir Anselm, do
not expect to have any reasonable communication
from wild people such as we are, but obey impli-
citly the commands I lay upon you. The very
m oment you get this letter set out instantly for
Como ; do not delay except to read it, and then
never stop till you arrive at your own villa at
Varenna. Do not pause at Balbiano, it is useless
we are not there, we are installed in your house,
leaving just room for you and the Countess
Althei in, to whom pray explain that she will leam
CLARA FANE.
something quite extraordinary on her arrival.
Tell her to be prepared to meet a relation she
never saw, and to make up her mind to love that
relation as well as we expect you will. Now, do
not put down this letter because you are busy,
saying, ' these children write such nonsense not
worth attending to.' No, you will thank us and
kiss us and almost worship us, when you corne
and find all we have done for you.
"Mr. Loftus has got such a beautiful boat
built on the Lake we never go out in any other
now, nor will you when you see it, and the boat-
man is ; but I dare not tell you a word,
although I shall never have done talking when
once I have you in my power. If you know
where Mr. Loftus is pray write and tell him to
return as quickly as possible, but first of all come
yourself oh, my dear Lord Anselmo ! if you only
knew what I could tell you !
" Do not expect to find Clara Fane here when
you arrive : she is gone and we never expect to
see her again."
The last part of this letter surprised Sir An-
selm more than all the rest, and he was extremely
annoyed at such news.
" I fear," he thought, " Lady Seymour has
been doing something foolish. What can this
heedless child mean ? I thought as she approached
254 CLARA FANE.
womanhood she would become more reasonable,
but she seems fallen back into babyhood again.
I must take her a doll from Milan instead of a
husband, as I hoped."
But as he read and reread Claudia's letter he
began to smile, imagining he had discovered the
mystery attempted in her words.
" I see it" said he ; " Clara Fane is gone
gone, perhaps, with Loftus. Can he have carried
her off after all ? he has kept his secret well, and
only written to me on melancholy subjects from
England too it can hardly be so ! and yet, ' we
never expect to see her again/ the enigma is too
easy. We shall see at all events, I shall gratify
them by arriving as soon as they can possibly
expect, and this wondrous web will be unravelled
forthwith."
He thought little more about the affair after
his first surprise, and did not particularly hurry
himself on his journey, pausing at Monza longer
than there was any necessity for doing to revisit
the Duomo, which he knew well, and patiently to
allow of the exhibition of Queen Theodolinda's
relics Chioccia and all. ^
Leisurely did his carriage drive through the
beautiful and luxuriant country, which woos the
traveller on towards the silver Lake of his rest ;
and often did he pause to point out to his interest-
CLARA FANE. 255
ing companion, the Countess Altheiin, the pictu-
resque groups of mulberry-pickers with their long
wicker baskets, and the pretty assemblages of
peasant girls collected round an overflowing village
fountain, their luxuriant hair confined by an
auriole of those shining pins which give their
heads the effect of Raphael's saints surrounded
by a glory.
At last this character of rural beauty was
changed to one of refinement : hanging gardens
and enclosed parks greeted their view, and the
venerable walls of feudal Como rose solemn and
menacing before them as they descended into the
old town, and were presently greeted by the glit-
tering lake guarded by its sentinels of purple
mountains.
For an hour Sir Anselm remained at the hotel
while the Countess reposed after her journey and
he was strolling along the shore, importuned by
the clamorous boatmen to choose one of their
gaily adorned boats to convey him to Varenna,
when his eye was suddenly caught by a white sail
just leaving the commodious little harbour, and
catching the reflectioniof an evening sun on its
lofty mast.
" Can this be Loftus's boat/' exclaimed he,
" of which Claudia speaks ? he has profited won-
derfully by my descriptions and my sketches, if
256 CLARA FANE.
he has been able to direct so perfect a Bermudian
to be constructed. But no it is guided by one
too well acquainted with the powers of those
beautiful sailers to be a stranger to the seas.
None but a native could make the little vessel
perform such feats as that no wonder the
Comasques are amazed and follow it with their
gaze, it is long since I beheld such a sight, and,"
he added, turning sadly away, " I never wished
to see it more."
After a short time, as the Countess expressed
a wish to go on without further delay, Sir Anselm
hired a boat and they proceeded on their tranquil
and delightful voyage by weather so calm and
pleasant that they could scarcely have believed
the accounts they heard of the recent storm and
its accidents, but for occasional traces of uprooted
trees and dislodged rocks along the banks.
As they approached Varenna Sir Anselm ob-
served in the distance the white sail of the Porgy
hovering about, bent on exhibiting the feats it
could perform on the water.
" That is the new boat/' said one of the men,
" which saved the young English lady the other
day in the storm."
Sir Anselm watched it with still more interest
after this, and was watching it when they ran into
CLARA FANE. 257
Varenna, and he was called upon to welcome the
Countess to her home.
Scarcely had they ascended many of the steps
leading to the terrace gardens when they were
greeted by several musical screams, but no one
appeared, till, having reached the last platform,
they were met by the sisters who flew together to
meet them, and uttered a thousand confused
expressions of delight, which amused the Countess
as much as Sir Anselm.
"Your countrywomen are always naive," said
Madame Altheim, who was a little stately and
grave, " but these pretty creatures seem positively
wild."
" They are much more so than ordinarily,"
said Sir Anselm, a little disappointed at the im-
pression they had made, " we must attribute it to
the right cause affectionate feeling. I flatter
myself I create much interest in their hearts."
" That," said the Countess kindly, " does not
surprise me ; but see, they fly and bound away
like young fawns ; they cannot be kept in one
place, they have disappeared into an inner room
and now they re-appear leading some one. Good
God ! it is indeed as you told me," she exclaimed
suddenly, as the sisters approached with Clara
between them, " what a fatal resemblance !" and
the Countess hid her face in her hands and wept.
258 CLARA FANE.
Sir Anselm advanced to meet Clara.
"What could my amiable friend Claudia
mean ?" said he ; " her letter announced to me
the sad tidings of your departure. There seem
many enigmas for me to solve, and this is not the
least."
" I spoke truth," said Claudia ; " Clara Fane
exists no more ask her if I am right."
" Sir v Anselm/' said Clara, " I have had a
great escape; but for an old and faithful servant
of yours I should have been drowned in the lake.
Do you remember Christopher Tucker ?"
Sir Anselm turned very pale and sat down.
" What of him ?" he faltered.
Clara took his hand and pointing towards the
lake she said
" Do you see that long, white sail ? he who
guides it is an old servant of yours many years
have passed since you met : he was thought to
have been lost at sea with others he was pro-
videntially saved."
" But my child my poor little Agnes, what
became of her ?" exclaimed Sir Anselm.
" He shall tell you," said Clara, " if you will
summon resolution to see and speak to him."
" This instant," cried he : " Countess Altheim,
she speaks of the man of whom I have been tell-
ing you who, devoted to your sister, I supposed
CLARA FANE. 259
had lost his life in my service, together with my
child."
" But my poor Agnes !"' sobbed the Countess,
" she is lost to us without hope."
The sisters, while Clara was speaking, had
hurried to the terrace and were busy making a
signal agreed on between them and Christopher,
which was, at any time, to bring him within call.
His sail was soon seen approaching, and Sir
Anselm, gazing with the rest, beheld the Porgy
cleave the waters and run into a little creek be-
neath the villa stairs, when Christopher leapt on
shore and was soon seen mounting the steps to
the chamber where the party were assembled.
Clara advanced to meet him.
" Christopher," she said, " you have promised
me to be calm when you meet your master : the
time is now come to prove your resolution Sir
Anselm Fairfax stands before you 1"
Christopher advanced, looked round and with
a shriek of joy fell into his master's arms.
" I have saved her I have saved little Missie !"
was his first exclamation; "for seventeen years
the load was on my heart for seventeen years I
wished to die, because I had not followed her
when the last wave broke over the canoe there
she is at last. God preserved the dear child for
260 CLARA PANE.
my master. I dived for her to the bottom of the
lake and now I may be forgiven/'
Sir Anselm required no further explanation
he at 'once recognised the secret so impossible
to be concealed by all those who longed to tell it.
As he clasped Clara to his heart, he asked no
further proof, for that heart had long named her
as his daughter, and this discovery only con-
firmed the truth of the sympathy which had
attracted him to her.
"Explain no more/' said he, " another time
you shall tell me the particulars of this strange
romance. Oh, Agnes ! my sweet child, was I
not right to love you from the first ! Oh, Chris-
topher faithful to death have I not well ful-
filled the motto I adopted Examine, prove, and
trust."
" The motto is on my boat," exclaimed Chris-
topher. " I painted it with my own hand, and in
my first voyage it led me to good luck."
"Countess Altheim," said Sir Anselm, "you
will now forgive the etourderie of my dear young
friends and embrace them together with your
neice, our lost Agnes."
The Countess, overcome with emotion, did not
require the injunctions of her brother-in-law to
receive Clara with affection, for if she had been
impressed with the singular wildness and beauty
CLARA FANE. 261
of her two companions, she had been no less so
with the prepossessing appearance of her whom
she had now to recognise as her niece.
Explanation quickly followed on explanation,
and in spite of the attempts of all to calm their agi-
tated feelings, they could not attempt to separate
till they had formed a circle round Clara, by
which familiar name it was impossible for them
not to continue to call her, and had listened to all
she could tell respecting what she knew of her-
self.
"What I know of my infancy," said she, "is this.
I was brought up from the age of about a year and
a half by the wife of a small trader of Liverpool.
He was called Captain Love, and was part owner
of a vessel trading to the West Indies. He was
full of enterprise, activity and industry, and had
had a career of almost uninterrupted success in
his undertakings : he was in every way worthy of
his excellent wife Susey, one of the best and most
benevolent of women, whom he had married for love
and to whom he was much attached. They had
no children, which was a source of regret to them ;
but at length, when Susey became the mother of
a little girl, Captain Love and herself were ex-
tremely happy, and thought no greater good luck
could crown their domestic bliss. This child
was christened Clara, and was about a year old
262 CLARA FANE.
when it was seized with the small pox and carried
off, almost to the despair of the parents, who were
so attached to it that the Captain could hardly
resolve to pursue his customary employment and
delayed going to sea much longer than ordinary
after the sad event.
" When his wife Susey found that he took the
loss of their child so much to heart, she saw the
necessity of his being actively employed, and,
regardless of herself, persuaded him to resume
his customary life and go out once more to the
West Indies. Accordingly he left her, and made
several voyages the last had reference to me.
" He was on his voyage home, and had en-
countered a series of storms which, however, his
little vessel had weathered, and it was after one
which had caused him some danger and alarm
that he was continuing his route in the direction
of England when one evening, as he stood on deck,
his attention was arrested by the appearance on
the waves of an object so unusual that he surveyed
it for some time through his glass, unable to com-
prehend what it might be. It came, however,
floating on, and he ordered grappling irons to be
thrown out to catch it, whatever it were. This
was soon accomplished by his men, who had been
regarding it with the same curiosity as himself.
The surprise of all was great when they dis-
CLARA FANE. 263
covered that the prize which they hauled on board
was a small Indian canoe, made of porcupine's
quills, very firmly and ingeniously plaited, having
on it a motto of three words which they did not
understand ; but a greater wonder was to find
within it, wrapped carefully in a wollen cloak and
lashed strongly to a seat in the centre an infant
apparently dead.
" The child was immediately unbound and the
Captain himself took charge of it, using all the
means he could think of to restore animation, and
at length, to the great joy of his crew, who
watched and assisted his benevolent cares, the
unfortunate infant showed signs of life. It was,
however, so nearly exhausted, apparently from
long exposure without sustenance, that it required
extraordinary attention to preserve its life : these
were not spared, and by the time Captain Love
arrived at Liverpool the child was comparatively
recovered.
"He carried this singular marine treasure to his
wife Susey, whose compassionate feelings were in-
stantly aroused, and she did not for an instant hesi-
tate to adopt the foundling as her own, and give it
all the care she had bestowed on her lost darling.
I need not tell you that I am that child. I was
christened Clara, after the infant that had died, .and
the name of Fane was given me merely because it
264 CLARA FANE.
was that of Susey before her marriage. You re-
member that I have adopted the motto which is
so familiar to you and which I had never met
with till I found it was yours. I had it engraved
on a bracelet as the only memorial I have of those
by whose wish I imagined it was attached to the
little vessel in which I was drifted out to sea.
These words, now dearer than ever to me
Trau. schau. wem. were worked in different
coloured quills on the side of the canoe in
which I was found. I seemed, therefore, to cling
to them as my own property, since to anything
besides, even the name by which I was called,
I had no right.
" My beloved nurse, dear to me now as ever,
would never have resigned the care of me had she
not seen that the patronage afforded me by Mrs.
Fowler, of which I have already told you, would
be more likely to advance my fortunes than any
plan she could form and she has proved herself
right in her idea.
"Oh, my dear father! what a blessing to
utter that word! you are rich and generous and
I shall now be an expensive charge to you, for
you will reward those who so generously spent
their little saving upon a destitute stranger thrown
upon their compassion. Great stores of love I
have for all with which to repay them myself.
CLARA FANE. 265
Where to begin 1 scarcely know, so many friendly
faces are smiling in the rapid vision of the past
that flits before my eyes at this moment besides
those whom I see around me. Eugenie Miss
Clinton divide my thoughts with Susey Love
and Mrs. Fowler and poor, lost Maria."
Agitated and happy, the whole party at length
separated, more from consideration for the delicacy
of the Countess Altheim than from their own
inclinations, and each awoke the next morning
scarcely certain whether so great a joy could be
real just as those feel who have undergone a
terrible grief, but wake, alas ! to know that the
blow was not imaginary so much alike are joy
and sorrow in this world, where events the most
unlike in appearance resemble each other but too
nearly.
VOL. in.
266 CLARA FANE.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Marry, this well carried, shall on her behalf,
Change slander to remorse : that is some good.
Ado about Nothing.
WHILE these events were going on on the oppo-
site side of the Lake, Lady Seymour remained at
Balbiano in a state of much agitation and alarm.
The flight of the two young ladies in the Porgy
had greatly added to her uneasiness, and, having
no other means of venting her annoyance, she
thought it best to indulge in a series of hysterical
fits, induced by fear in the first instance, and
afterwards from mortification at the accounts
of Claudia's determined conduct reported to her
by Giulia, and still renewed when the escapade
performed by the sisters became known to her.
The news of the safety of Clara was rapidly
spread, and the servants had even seen those who
had had interviews with the rescued boatman,
CLARA FANE. 267
therefore her remorse on that head was removed,
and she had only now to consider what the best
mode would be to divide the friends whom this
incident would, she foresaw, only more closely
unite, and she felt her pride engaged not to sub-
mit to the dictation of a governess and two
children, over whom she considered that she had
a right to exercise authority.
" Miss Fane," said she to Giulia, who stood
sulkily by, " shall most assuredly not return here,
but I must endeavour to persuade those unruly
girls to come back. Their going to take posses-
sion of Sir Anselm's house is a breach of a
etiquette, and must not be persisted in. As for
that detestable black man, whose very aspect was
always inimical to my nerves, I shall a^ply to the
police if he dares again to approach this villa.
Positively he is a sort of pirate, and I am sur-
prised at Mr. Loftus for encouraging him."
" They say on the lake, milady," said Giulia,
" that he was obliged to leave Venice in conse-
quence of the number of murders he had com-
mitted. He does not care for life a bit, or else
why should he have jumped, in that foolhardy way,
into the water to save a person like Miss Fane,
who was not likely to pay him for his trouble."
"If he comes here again, Giulia," exclaimed
Lady Seymour, " I insist on his not being allowed
N 2
268 CLARA FANE.
to land. I am quite terrified at the creature, and
will permit no communication with him. I wish
Sir Anselm would return : you sent my letter to
him of course ?"
Giulia protested that she had done so, having
the letter alluded to, at that moment, in her apron
pocket, all recollection of her duty having escaped
her recollection in the bustle of the last few
days. To save her conscience, she therefore sent
it to the post by the usual messenger to Como as
soon as it was brought to her mind, but by this
delay it did not reach Milan till after Sir Anselm
had left, and was arrived at his own villa at
Vareuna.
The day after his arrival, the excitement of
their minds having a little subsided, Sir Anselm
willingly accepted the offer of Cristofero for the
sisters insisted on his keeping his Italian deno-
mination as more poetical than the name of
Christopher to sail in the Porgy to the villa
Balbiano, in order to explain and offer apologies,
which he felt were necessary to Lady Seymour,
for the desertion of her nieces and the sudden
break up of the establishment.
He was not, however, prepared for the re-
ception which awaited the approach of the Ber-
mudian vessel : instead of the usual open gates
at the foot of the steps leading to the never
CLARA FANE. 269
closed doors of the hall, he found them locked
and every blind and window closed.
Finding that neither ringing nor calling were
of any avail, and that it was evident Lady Sey-
mour had barricaded her castle, he was perplexed
what to do, till Claudia, who accompanied him,
proposed that they should land on a little strip of
shore at the other side of the villa and make their
entrance by a back gate, which led into a lower
garden attached to the servant's offices.
1 ' This is quite an adventure," said she, " to
be shut out of one's house in this manner, and
Auntie Seymour acting the heroine as if she was
shut up in a tower, menaced by giants or the evil
spirits of the Lake. There will, however, be no
difficulty in effecting our entrance this way."
She accordingly preceded Sir Anselm, and
they soon reached the little door which intro-
duced them to the servant's department of the
villa, all of whom were not a little scared when
they saw them.
" How is this," said Sir Anselna, " that we
find all the doors closed and no one to let us
in?"
" Miladi ordered that we were never to leave
the gates open for fear of black Cristofero, the
pirate," replied one of the attendants looking
very much alarmed.
270 CLARA FANE.
" You are safe from him," replied Sir Anselm,
" but we are not, I hope, to be looked upon as
foes. Let Lady Seymour know that your young
mistress and I are here and waiting till she admits
us."
They were accordingly ushered into the pre-
sence of Lady Seymour, who uttered a scream of
delight on welcoming Sir Anselm. She looked
coldly at Claudia, who ran up to her, exclaim-
ing
"Now, dear auntie, don't give us a scene
you know it is you who are in the wrong, and
everybody else has been quite right. But to
please you Miss Fane is sent away, and you will
never more be troubled with her."
" My beloved niece I" cried Lady Seymour,
as she embraced her ; " your heart, I know, is
always warm and true to your best friend, who
has so long devoted herself to you both. But,
you should not have run off so abruptly with that
hateful black creature his character is one of
the most worthless he has, I am told, committed
murder, and the thought of my darlings in the
power of such a frightful brigand has deprived me
nearly of life. Inconsiderate child ! what sorrows
do you cause me !"
"Cristofero is no brigand/' replied Claudia,
laughing heartily, " as Sir Anselm can tell you,
CLARA FANE. 271
tor he has known him all his life ; but we came to
apologise and make friends, and tell you that
Countess Altheim is not well enough to call on
you to-day, but will come soon and bring Miss
Fairfax with her."
"Who is Miss Fairfax? my dear Claudia,"
said Lady Seymour, " so much happens in a few
hours lately that I am really unable to follow the
march of events. I never heard of the lady."
" Claudia speaks of my daughter Agnes," said
Sir Anselm, " whom her aunt will shortly have
the pleasure of introducing to you."
Lady Seymour looked astonished.
" You are about to say that you did not know
I had so near a relative," continued he, " the fact
is I only knew it myself a few hours ago, and it
is to Cristofero, whom you suspect of being so
dangerous a character, that I owe the greatest
blessing of my life."
"Well," said Lady Seymour, "I suppose we
are in Carnival time, and are playing dramas to
amuse each other. I rejoice Sir Anselm at any-
thing which gratifies you, and I confess that I
think there is cause for congratulation above all
other things in the departure of the late governess
of these dear girls. When I tell you my reasons
for dismissing her I am sure you will approve of
272 CLARA FANE.
my conduct, which I see even the rebellious angel
here acknowledges was right."
"Oh, quite right, sweet auntie/* said her
niece ; " Clara Fane was a deception throughout
she was taking us in all the time, and we are
so glad to get rid of her. Who knows if she
might not have stolen the hearts of Lord Clair-
mont, Mr. Loftus, and Sir Anselm, all three, and
in that case all our plans and schemes would have
been defeated. Sir Anselm is just as glad as I am
to have done with her. Speak the truth now,
Lord Anselmo are you not ?"
" Certainly I am, in the sense you intend/'
replied Sir Anselm, " but why should we mystify
Lady Seymour further?"
" Stop, stop," exclaimed Claudia, putting her
hand on his mouth, "I insist on your saying no
more."
" You have some secret, I perceive," said Lady
Seymour, " but I am the most unsuspicious of
beings, anybody may deceive me, witness my con-
fidence in that Miss Fane !"
" Will you allow my young guests to remain
with my daughter and her aunt," said Sir Anselm,
" for a day or two ? and if you feel equal to it we
shall be charmed to receive your visit first if you
please do not delay long, I entreat, as I am
CLARA FANE. 273
anxious that you should be one in our enjoy-
ment."
Lady Seymour allowed them to depart with
the promise they exacted, but as she had no par-
ticular anxiety to see her plans destroyed by the
introduction of two relatives of Sir Anselm, of
whom she knew nothing and whom she considered
quite intruders, she resolved to be in no hurry to
visit Varenna, and from day to day sent messages
to say that indisposition prevented her throwing
herself into the arms of Miss Fairfax, who she
assured her in a note she
" Already doted on : my sweet unknown
friend !" she said, " when your worthy father
has told you of the respect in which I hold
his exalted character, and the adoration, which
amounts almost, I fear, to weakness, with which I
regard my nieces, you will conceive the heart
which beats to know you, and to indulge in an
effusion of affection such as it already feels capable
of towards you alas ! my sweet inconnue, how
deeply I regret that the strength of my frame is
not equal to that of my spirit, which flies to you
and welcomes you to our lake. In a short time
I hope to repeat in person all I now so feebly
express/'
Clara was excessively entertained when this
note was delivered to her, and could not resis f
274 CLARA FANE.
showing it to her amused pupils, for as this was
the only revenge she intended to take on Lady
Seymour, besides the mortification of a recogni-
tion, she thought it but legitimate to indulge in
& petite malice which could not injure her.
A few days had passed, and as the Countess
Altheim felt much better and quite able to make
the exertion, it was agreed that Cristofero's
boat should row the party to the villa Balbiano:
as there was no wind the tall sail was not in
requisition, and when they reached the steps
the obnoxious vessel was not recognised, so
that they found no barricades to prevent their
admission.
Claudia and her sister entered first and found
their aunt closeted, as usual, with her easel, though
Clark being out on an excursion, nothing active
was going on. She expressed herself delighted to
receive the Countess and the rest of the party.
" But tell me, Claudia," said she, " what sort
of person is this suddenly-sprung-up Miss Fair-
fax it seems to me an odd story altogether."
" So it is, auntie," replied Claudia : " and as
for the daughter I do not think you will like her
much "
At this moment Sir Anselm and the Countess
entered, with Clara rather in the rear, as she did
not wish, by her presence, to disturb the first in~
CLARA FANE* 27B
troduction. As soon as that was over the Countess
turned round, and taking her by the hand pre-
sented her as a stranger to Lady Seymour.
" This is my niece, the long-lost daughter of
iny dear sister Agnes, the wife of whom her hus-
band was so early deprived: she tells m3 that she
is already known to you, but not under her pre-
sent circumstances."
The confusion and amazment of Lady Sey-
mour was painful to witness as she looked at Clara
again and again, unable to believe what she
heard.
" I do not understand this travesty," exclaimed
she ; " surely you cannot be speaking the truth I"
" Perfectly so, my dear madam," said Sir
Auselm ; " you have only to call Cristofero as a
corroborator of all that we assert he has twice
saved my daughter from a watery grave, and he
can tell you the whole particulars of this singular
history. I beg you to extend the civility Clara
Pane met with from you to Agnes Fairfax."
" Upon my word," began Lady Seymour, " I
feel quite ashamed, Miss Fairfax, that my sensitive
delicacy should have obliged me in a late affair to
act in a manner which might at a first glance
appear a little harsh ; but the duties I have to per-
form, where these dear children are concerned, are
such that that "
276 CLARA FANE.
" Oh, I entreat," said Clara, interrupting her,
" that nothing may ever be remembered by any of
us in future but the agreeable part of our inter-
course, of which there have been so many scenes,
that it is useless to dwell on any that may be less
brilliant. I have little but obligation to any one
in this family to recollect, and I readily excuse
any faults towards myself which arose from zeal
intended to point to a good end."
" We are, then, I hope, reconciled, my sweet
Miss Fairfax," exclaimed Lady Seymour, embrac-
ing her; "how could it be otherwise with the
daughter of my best [and one of my oldest
friends ! My faults, I assure you, are those merely
of the head the heart, the heart, dear Miss Fane
Fairfax is always in the right."
" Oh yes, auntie," interposed Sybilla, laugh-
ing, " we all know you quite well, so there is no
occasion to make any more fine speeches; the
Countess will think perhaps we are not sincere if
we profess so much."
" Saucy angel 1" said Lady Seymour, patting
her cheek ; " I fear the Countess will see that I
spoil you ; but I am too fond to be severe, and
these lovely rebels get the better of me."
CLARA FANE. 277
CHAPTER XIX.
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie
Which we ascribe to Heaven the fated sky
Gives us full scope. * * * Who ever strove
To show her merit that did miss her love ?
Shakespere.
EDMOXD LOFTUS'S arrival at Como took place
about ten days after that of Sir Anselm. It was
by that time known that the accident on the lake
had not been fatal, and he was relieved from his
terrors respecting the ladies of Balbiano ; but so
many confused accounts were spread abroad that
he was at a loss to understand what had really
occurred.
The first person he saw belonging to him was
Cristofero, who came sailing into the little harbour
soon after his arrival ; but from him the informa-
tion he obtained was by no means satisfactory,
for he had been charged by Claudia and Sybilla
to keep entirely secret the history they wished
themselves to reveal. The task imposed was a
278 CLARA FANE.
difficult one, as Cristofero was in a state of excite-
ment which made him ready to tell everything he
knew to everybody he met. When questioned by
Mr. Loftus his answers were so wild and incohe-
rent that he could make little of them.
" Is it true, Cristofero, that you ran down the
boat with the lady in it ?" asked he.
" No," was the reply ; " I picked her up after
the steamer had gone over her."
" And who was she, and what became of her
afterwards ? she seems to me to have been a mere
' Lady of the Lake.' "
" She is Sir Anselm Fairfax's daughter a
beautiful young lady. I put the baby in the canoe
and lashed it tight and trusted it to the sea the
sea was faithful, though I was not that's my
secret, master that's why I ought to have been
drowned long ago; but she was saved by me
after all so there wasn't much harm done. Such
a beautiful young lady !"
" I 'was afraid it was one of the ladies from
Balbiano," said Mr. Loftus; "are they all safe
and well?"
" The two piccauinies are," returned Christo-
pher, " and Lady Seymour "
" And and the governess ?" said Edmond.
"Oh, she she's gone Miss Clara Fane is
gone clean away."
CLARA FANE. 279
" Well Christopher," said his master, " let me
have a specimen of your sailing your boat looks
admirably, but whether it is suited to these waters
remains to be proved, though you do not acknow-
ledge to having caused this accident. Take me
once to the Villa Balbiano."
Cristofero smiled, showed his white teeth and
shook his head.
" No, no," said he, " you are not to go there ;
the piccaninies told me to bring you, at once, to
Varenna they stay there now with the Countess
Altheim and Missie Fairfax."
"As you please," replied Loftus, smiling; "I
suppose I must obey there is some mystifica-
tion which I don't comprehend, but it will pro-
bably develope itself in due time/'
. .They accordingly set forth, and the animation
of the sail raised the spirits of Edmond not a little
in spite of the uncertainty he felt respecting Clara.
When they reached Varenna, he was welcomed by
the sisters with rapturous delight, and almost
carried in triumph up the steep stairs of the ter-
races.
"Why are you both in such extraordinary
spirits ?" said he at length ; " is it because you
have no longer a governess to keep you in order ?
is it true that Miss Fane is gone ?"
"Yes," exclaimed Claudia; "that is the very
280 CLARA FANE.
reason but you will not be glad, I know, for I
found out that you were in love with her, and,
what's more, I know she was dying in love with you,
and would have given the world to marry you, if
you would have had her."
Loffcus's brow became crimson.
"Claudia," said he, "you talk at random of
you know not what. You are dreaming. But
why did she go away ? it seems to me a very ex-
traordinary event you were all good friends when
I left."
"Lady Seymour and she quarrelled, and I
quarrelled with her too, and Sir Anselm didn't
like her to stay, and so there's an end of Clara
Fane."
" But you seemed so attached to her," pursued
Mr. Loftus : "I cannot account for such sudden
changes of sentiment."
" Oh, she was only a governess, you know
not much better than one's maid," said Claudia,
Booking sly. " I dare say now, you would not
have liked to marry her for that very reason
would you now? you'd like better to have a
grander lady for your wife."
" Don't let us speak any more of her," said
Loftus ; " we do not understand each other on
this subject."
"Poor girl!" said Claudia, "it does seem
CLARA FANE. 281
shocking that everybody is glad she is gone. Oh !
here comes Sir Anselm."
So saying she flew past, laughing loud and
waving her hand as she disappeared.
" My dear Loftus," said Sir Anselm, you are
come at a moment when I require the support of
a friend to carry me through a great excitement.
My whole life is changed in the brief interval of
your departure, and, except one sorrow, I have
nothing now that weighs upon my heart my
child is restored to me."
Loftus embraced his friend with tears, and
entreated to hear the particulars.
" To you I am mainly indebted for this good,"
said Sir Anselm, " for it was your patronage of
Christopher that brought this happy event to
light. He is my old Bermuda servant, and he it
is who saved my daughter. Ah ! Edmond, I have
such visions rising in my mind respecting that
daughter ! if you could love her, if you could
make her your ideal and she is all that a father
or a lover could desire how happy we might all
become."
" My dear friend," exclaimed Loftus, " I shall
seem even more unreasonable now to you than
ever ungrateful too, I fear, when I confess that
the image of Clara Fane is so deeply printed in
my soul that no other could find a place in my
28.2 CLARA PANE.
affections. I am even at this moment, while I
rejoice in your happiness, most miserable about
her. You knew my weakness, yet you have your-
self caused this anxiety, for Claudia tells me it is
by your desire that she has left them. Where is
she ? I must seek her, I must put an end to this
wretched uncertainty at once."
Sir Anselm smiled as he answered.
" My reasons were good in desiring that Clara
Fane should no longer remain in her late position
be satisfied that she is cared for, but do not
regret her her rank and circumstances were not
such as to render her suitable to you, and, know-
ing your temper as I do, I feel certain when you
see her no more that she will fade from your
memory. Do not prejudice yourself, meanwhile,
against Agnes Fairfax ; she is not a person to be
seen without admiration or lightly rejected. I
have a presentiment that you will be friends in
time."
" I do not doubt it for a moment," cried Lof-
tus ; " I should be the most insensible of beings
if it were not so present me to her, and let me
have my part in the general satisfaction which her
marvellous apparition has caused. You forget
that I am taken by surprise and have not the least
idea how she was recovered after so many years.
CLARA FANE. 283
Did the Countess Altheim bring her to light ?
or how did so interesting an event occur ?"
" She shall tell her history herself," replied
Sir Anselm.
The friends accordingly entered the drawing-
room of the villa where Loftus was presented to
the Countess Altheim, and presently the sisters
appeared and each taking a hand led him through
a suite of rooms to a boudoir at the end, where
seated on a sofa, with her back towards him, he
beheld one whose figure he could not for an in-
stant mistake.
He started and uttered an exclamation of
surprise, when A{jnes Fairfax rose and advanced
to meet him.
Claudia and Sybilla clapped their hands, the
former crying out
" There, I told you all true, this is Miss Fair-
fax, and Clara Fane is left at the bottom of the
Lake."
So saying they both ran out of the room,
leaving the lovers together.
There was no longer any disguise necessary
to either, the explanation that immediately fol-
lowed brought to light every long suppressed
feeling, all those
" Gentle wishes long subdued,
Subdued and cherished long."
284 CLARA FANE.
on the part of Agnes, and a confirmation of all
he had before professed on that of Edmond, and
when they entered the drawing room together
and were greeted by the whole party, their coun-
tenances told Sir Anselm that all obstacles to the
union he desired were at an end.
In the Museum at Liverpool may still be seen
a small canoe, curiously formed of porcupine's
quills, the same that was recognised by Christo-
pher Tucker and Sir Anselm Fairfax as made by
the former at Bermuda, and in which he placed
the infant Agnes; its identity was proved by
Captain Love and his wife Susey, and it was after-
wards exhibited to Mr. and Mrs. Loftus on their
first visit after their marriage to the foster father
and mother of the bride.
It was agreed between them that every year
on the anniversary of Captain Love's adventure on
the high seas that and several following days should
be spent at Loftus Hall, Captain Richard Love of
the Gmunden See being included in the invitation,
as he was now located in the neighbourhood of
his brother.
The bridal excursion was extended to the Vale
of Llangollen, when Sir Anselm had the satisfac-
tion of returning his heartfelt thanks to Mrs.
Fowler and her invalid sister, for the maternal
CLARA FANE. 285
care bestowed on his daughter. Every summer
they paid a visit to the beautiful Vale of the Dee,
much to the delight of the amiable sisters, who
continued to reside there ; and in process of time
Claudia, Lady Clairmont, and Sybilla, Countess
Altheim, were introduced to the Welsh hills,
which, in their enthusiasm, they pronounced equal
to the Tyrol.
Many a pic-nic and many a long morning's
sketching did the grey ruins of Din as Bran wit-
ness as the brides, attended by their old friend
Clark, whose pencil they still employed, took their
exalted station amongst the dilapidated walls
which yet crowned the fine mountain, whose
crumbling diadem rises over the lovely valley
beneath. One whole summer the happy party
spent in that vale which combine every beauty
that Wales encloses in her bosom, and not a day
passed that they did not enjoy anew the pleasures
the unsurpassed rural nature around them offered.
They had secured a group of temporary domiciles,
scattered over the hills and by the river's side,
and thus formed a neighbourhood for themselves
within a short walk one of the other.
Here they scarcely regretted their inability to
return to Como and their villas there a plan
which they had proposed, but were arrested in the
execution of by the revolutionary earthquake
CLARA FANE.
which overturned all the projects of continental
travel throughout Europe, and drove the restless
seekers after excitement which abound in England
to the Scotch lakes and Welsh mountains, the
novelty of which gave them charms in the eyes of
tourists which enhanced their real attractions.
It was in the midst of those secluded shades,
where all was peaceful and at rest, seated in soft
concealment, where Val Crucis Abbey nestles, or
climbing to the heathery summit of the rocky
Eglwseg, or winding along the gorse-covered hills
behind the groves and meadows of Llantysilio,
that this company of friends and lovers passed a
holiday-existence, never hereafter to be forgotten
in the cares which the future was inevitably pre-
paring, but of which they would not then allow
themselves to dream.
Here they listened at a distance to details of
those mighty events which were sweeping away
dynasties ; here they heard of beautiful Naples
deluged in blood of fertile Lombardy overrun
with armed myriads of treasure-filled Vienna
threatened with destruction of great kings exiled,
and mighty emperors flying for their lives, and of
old friends and once gay acquaintances reduced
to poverty or made victims by a furious multitude,
and they turned towards each other, and gazed
upon their tranquil retreat scarcely believing it
CLARA FANE. 287
possible that they could themselves have escaped
the dangers which had overtaken and destroyed
persons and scenes so well known to them and so
recently visited.
Amongst numerous episodes of the revolu-
tionary romance, new chapters of which they
were constantly reading, Mr. and Mrs. Loftus
were startled with one in which they recognised
an actor whose very existence they desired should
be unknown to their less experienced companions.
A young woman had appeared on the stage in
Paris, soon after the downfall of the late monarchy,
\vhose beauty and genius had become instantly
the theme of admiration to all the devotees of the
wild and extravagant. She was reported to be a
native of South America, and her singular habits,
which it soon became the fashion amongst the
ladies of the popular cause to adopt, were thought
to give peculiar piquancy to her character. She
could smoke like a turk, ride like an Englishman
and throw the lasso as well as the most skilful of
her supposed countrymen : she understood the
language of the gypseys, and by many was
thought to belong to that wild race of wanderers.
Her voice in singing was deep and full, and pos-
sessed a mysterious charm, unlike any that had
ever before been beard on the French stage : she
sang the newest republican songs in character,
288 CLARA FANE.
and created, by her powerful manner of acting
them, an indescribable furor amongst her excitable
audience.
For several weeks she was looked upon as a
goddess, and the wildness of enthusiasm exhibited
towards her by her admirers knew no bounds.
Every tongue raved of " La Celia," every heart
beat for " La Divine Celia," every hand showered
roses at the feet of the idol of the day, and it was
at one time a question in a certain club whether
" La Kavissante Celia," should not be proclaimed
the tutelar divinity of regenerated France, when
on a sudden she fell sick and was confined by a
violent fever for ten days, in which time a new
object of interest had sprung up, and on her re-
appearance she was pronounced passed her
beauty was looked upon as departed her voice
cracked- her manners affected her powers ex-
tinct.
A great sale was announced at a magnificent
apartment on the Boulevard des Italiens soon
after this, where all Paris hurried in enthusiastic
anxiety to behold the wreck of one of the most
gorgeous establishments ever possessed by a lionne
of celebrity. There were cashmeers of incredible
price, silks and velvets of the most bewildering
splendour, laces and jewels of startling costliness
furniture of hitherto unheard of elegance
CLARA FANE. 289
bijoutirie, of graceful shapes, never before dreamed
of pictures of enormous value, and statues of
surpassing beauty all formerly belonging to the
now ruined and sentimentally pitied Celia, whose
necessities had obliged her to part with all or
rather all of whose possessions had been seized by
creditors.
In a flying fraternal visit paid by a band of
military heroes to a neighbouring country, there
figured amongst the ranks a young cantiniere,
whose grace and beauty were the theme of every
tongue, and to obtain a sight of whom was the
object of every stranger eye as she marched by
the side of the company to which she belonged,
and dealt out to her admiring companions the re-
freshing beverage which it was her office to dis-
pense to them. Her lively air, bold step, flashing
eye, and assured and self-possessed demeanour
won for her golden opinions from all, and the
name of " La Jolie Celia " became a word of
animation everywhere.
Amongst the names of the sufferers in a con-
vict ship, bound for Australia, which was burnt
off a port on the coast of Wales on its outward
voyage, where it had put in from stress of weather,
and was about, after refitting, to continue its me-
lancholy voyage, occurred that of " Celia Sawyer/'
read by Mr. and Mrs. Loftus, and pointed out to
VOL. in. o
290 CLARA FANE.
each other in silence, as they laid down the paper
which contained it, with a sigh and a shudder.
After a time the united families settled at
their respective homes, all chosen to be near
Loftus Hall and Fairfax Place, and as Lord Der-
rington's Park was in the vicinity, Miss Clinton
had the satisfaction of enjoying a society congenial
to her, and so happy were they all in each other
that they rarely left Derbyshire except for a few
weeks of the London season, an event which
seldom happened but in the case of any great
star appearing in the musical world.
Mr. Ben Goldspin, in spite of his opinon that
marriage was "humbug/' at length was discovered
to have given his hand, to the great disgust of
his mother, to a pretty chambermaid of Derby,
having been rejected by several young ladies who
had seen him horsewhipped by Captain Brighty.
Mr. Jack Goldspin, still professing to look upon
the marriage state as "gammon," remains true
to his principles, and has not changed his bachelor
position.
Miss Kate Brixton, though a constant visitor
at all the fashionable watering places in England,
has not yet become a wife; but it is whispered
that she is about to marry an old Indian officer,
very gouty and very rich, who is said to have
proposed for her.
CLARA FANE. 291
William Wybrow passes his life in study :
literature aud science occupying all his time:
he repaid his mother's tenderness by devoted
affection, and they are companions in pensive
but not discontented retirement, always showing
much kindness to poor Mrs. Spicer, whose muse
occasionally inspires her on some festive occasion
in which her friends and benefactors are inter-
ested.
THE END.
W. Ottell, Printer, Hart-street, Bloomsbury-square; and Burlington Mews,
Regent-street.
NEW WORKS ON FICTION.
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AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE.
BY SIR EDWARD BULWER LYTTON, BART.,
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Barons, &c.
In Three Vols. post 8vo.
HELEN CHARTERIS;
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THE VICTIM OF THE JESUITS;
OR, PIQUILLO ALLIAGA.
FROM THE FRENCH, BY C. COCKS.
Translator of Michelet's " Priest?, "Women, and Families."
294 NEW WORKS OF FICTION.
MADELEINE;
A TALE OF AUVERGNE,
FOUNDED ON FACT.
BY JULIA KAVANAGH.
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THE TWO BARONESSES.
WEITTEN IN ENGLISH.
BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN,
Author of " The Improvisatore," " The Poet's Bazaar," &c.
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THE BEE HUNTER; OR, OAK OPENINGS.
A ROMANCE OF THE RED INDIANS.
BY J. FENIMORE COOPER,
Author of " The Prairie," " The Last of the Mohicans," &c.
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SADNESS AND GLADNESS.
BY THE HON. ADELA SIDNEY.
Author of " Home and its Influence."
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NEW WORKS OF FICTION. 295
AMYONE,
A ROMANCE OP THE DAYS OF PERICLES.
BY MISS E. LYNN.
Author of " Azeth, the Egyptian."
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ST. ROCHE.
EDITED BY JAMES MORIER.
The Author of "Hajji Baba."
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THE RIVAL BEAUTIES.
A NOVEL.
BY MISS PARDOE.
Author of " The Court and Reign of Louis XIV.," " The City of the Sultan,
" Confessions of a Pretty Women, &c."
In Three Vols. post 8vo. Second Edition.
CAPTAIN SPIKE;
OR, THE ISLETS OP THE GULF.
BY J. FENIMORE COOPER.
Author of "The Pilot," "The Prairie," "The Pathfinder," "Mark's Reef.'
In Three Vols. post 8vo.
296 NEW WORKS OF FICTION.
THE PEASANT AND HIS LANDLORD.
FROM THE SWEDISH OF THJE BARONESS KNORRING.
BY MAKY HOWITT.
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MR. WARRENNE,
THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER.
By the Author of " Margaret Capel," &c.
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ERNEST SINGLETON.
By the Author of " Dr. Hookwell," &c.
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SHAKSPERE,
THE POET, THE ACTOR, THE LOVEE, AND THE MAN.
BY HENRY CURLING,
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BRIAN Q'LINN, OR LUCK IS EVERYTHING
BY W. H. MAXWELL,
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