LONDON:
PRINTED BY JAMES MOVES,
Castle Street, Leicester Square.
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
THE AUTHOR OF
ROMANCE AND REALITY, THE VENETIAN BRACELET,
Must we in tears
Unwind a love knit up by many years 1
I cannot break my faith cannot re-send
The truest heart that lover e'er did lend."
KING.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
(SUCCESSOR TO HENRY COLBURN.)
1834.
642454
If ?-5
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
CHAPTER I.
" It is the past that maketh my despair
The dark, the sad, the irrevocable past ! "
L. E. L.
OF all the melancholy days consecrated to the
memory of the dead, perhaps the most mournful
the one jarring most^ imniediately by strong
contrast with its predecessors is the day when
the coffin has been carried from the house, and
the light of heaven admitted through the recently
darkened windows. Every object looks so un-
familiar. We have become accustomed to the
dim atmosphere and the long shadows, they
seemed to sympathise with us. Now, the cheerful
sun looks in mockingly ; we rejoice not in the
face of day ; it brings not hope, but memory to our
minds ; and we only watch the gladdening beams to
think that they are shining on the narrow grave.
During Guide's long illness Francesca had
VOL. III. B
2 FRANCESCA CARRARA*
been occupied with the thousand cares which his
state required ; to smooth his pillow, to bathe
his feverish temples, to bend over him, and to try
to lighten the languid hours of his weary waking,
had unconsciously beguiled the time. Moreover,
though she knew that his disease was fatal though
every morning she dreaded lest he should not live
till night, and every night lest it should bring no
(knorrow still she was not prepared. Death came,
and then she knew that in her heart she had be-
lieved, she had trusted, that Guido would not die.
For the first time in her life, she felt that existence
could be a blank. I believe this is a feeling which
sooner or later is known to all. Who has not
paused upon some portion of their existence, and
felt its burden greater than they could bear?
who has not looked back to the past with that
passion of hopelessness, which deems that life can
never more be what it has been, with a con-
sciousness that the dearer emotions are exhausted,
while in their place have arisen but vacancy and
weariness ? You feel as if you could never be in-
terested in any thing again nay, you do not even
desire.it; your heart is divided between bitter-
ness and indifference.
Francesca was conscious that this moral torpor
increased upon her every hour. She loathed any
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 3
sort of occupation ; she left her books unopened,
her lute unstrung ; she took no pleasure in flowers.
Lucy one day called her to come and look at a tree,
whose late roses were beautiful a second growth
of summer, though summer was gone. Slowly she
obeyed the summons. She gazed at the painted
leaves so fresh in colour and in fragrance ; but
they gave her no delight. Carelessly she said,
" They are lovely!" and turned away. She felt
grateful for Lucy's kindness, who sought to win
her attention by every little art that feminine
affection could suggest ; but she would rather
have been without it. Every thing was an exer-
tion to her, for the animating impulse from within
was wanting. She took long and lonely walks
through the forest ; but she marked not its autumn
splendour, she only desired in fatigue of body to
ose the fatigue of mind.
Rumours of many changes were abroad, and
Lord Avonleigh's return to his paternal domain was
confidently reported. Francesca looked forward to
it with no other sensation than dread, new ties,
new interests ! she had not energy enough left to
rform them. Evil had been the experience of her
youth, the bitterness of ill-requited love only
those may tell who have known it ! Her memory
was laden with mortifications, neglect, and un-
4 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
kindness ; and now all better recollections ended
in the tomb. Evelyn, how vainly had her heart
wasted itself upon him ! and Henriette and Guido
were cold in that grave, over whose gloom her
spirit perpetually brooded. I have said that such
a state of exhaustion and loneliness is one of
general experience, I was wrong. The lots of
our days are differently cast. Some few have
fallen in pleasant places ; it is folly to say that we
share and share alike. I have known many to
whom the words of utter wretchedness were as a
strange tongue, such as never had fallen from their
own quiet lips; they grew up the darlings and
delight of a circle, whose best hope was their hap-
piness ; they exchanged one home for another,
girdled round by yet deeper love. To such as
these, how many of the melancholy records of the
poet's page and there alone are they recorded
must seem wholly unintelligible ! We need to
suffer ere we understand the language of suffer-
ing ; but, Heaven above knows ! it is very ge-
nerally understood. And hence the charm of the
sad, sweet page, which idealises our anguish, and
makes sorrow musical : if it does not come home
to all, it does to the mass.
I have often been told that my writings are
too melancholy. How can that be a reproach if
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 5
they are true ? and that they are true, I attest the
sympathy of others and my own experience. If
I have just painted a state of moral lassitude, when
the heart is left like a ruined and deserted city,
where the winged step of joy, and the seven-
stringed lute of hope, have ceased each to echo
the other ; where happiness lies cold and dead on its
own threshold ; where dust lies dry and arid over
all, and there is no sign of vegetation, no promise
of change if I paint such a state, it is because
I know it well. Alas ! over how many things now
does my regret take its last and deepest tone
despondency ! I regret not the pleasures that
have passed, but that I have no longer any relish
for them. I remember so much which but a little
while ago would have made my heart beat with
delight, and which I now think even tiresome. The
society which once excited, is now wearisome the
book which would have been a fairy-gift to my
solitude, I can now scarcely read. So much for
the real world ; and as for the imaginary world,
I have overworked my golden vein. Some of
the ore has been fashioned into fantastic, perhaps
beautiful, shapes ; but they are now for others,
and not for me ! Once, a sweet face, a favourite
flower, a thought of sorrow, touched every pulse
with music. Now, half my time, my mood is too
6 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
troubled, too worldly, and too sullen for song.
Alas for pleasure, and still more for what made
it pleasure !
But, still more, I regret the energy of industry
which I once knew. I no longer delight in em-
ployment for the mere exertion I am so easily
fatigued and disheartened. I see too clearly the
worthlessness of fulfilled hope. How vain seems
so much that I once so passionately desired !
and yet, not always. The more disgusted I am
with the present with its faithless friends, its
petty vanities, and its degrading interests the
more intensely does my existence blend itself with
the future the more do I look forward with an
engrossing and enduring belief, that the creative
feeling, the ardent thought, have not poured them-
selves forth wholly in vain. Good Heaven ! even
to myself how strange appears the faculty, or
rather the passion, of composition ! how the inmost
soul developes its inmost nature on the written
page! -I, who lack sufficient confidence in my
most intimate friends to lay bare even an ordinary
emotion who never dream of speaking of what
occupies the larger portion of my time to even my
most familiar companions yet rely on the sym-
pathy of the stranger, the comprehension of those
to whom I am utterly unknown. But I neither
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 7
ordered my own mind, nor made my own fate.
My world is in the afar-offand the hereafter, to
them I leave it. Still, the spirit's wing will melt
in the feverish exertion, and the lofty aspiration
grovel for a time dejected on the earth. Where
are the lips from which words have not, at some
period or another, escaped in all the bitterness
of discontent ? such moods are the key-notes
of universal sympathy ; and it matters little
whether the worn-out feeling, or the exhausted
imagination, produced that melancholy, which is
half apathy, half mournfulness.
Day after day passed by, and Francesca felt
the burden of time more insupportable. To the
period of Lord Avonleigh's return she looked
with growing terror ; for strangely does the
fancy exaggerate every subject on which it is per-
mitted to dwell unchecked. The sadness and
monotony of her actual state were infinitely pre-
ferable to the restraint, to the exertion, of form-
ing new ties, and forcing herself to answer to their
duties and to their affections.
Charles Aubyn, the young clergyman who had
performed the last sacred offices at the grave of
Guido, sometimes deemed himself privileged, in
right of his spiritual calling, to break in upon her
seclusion with words of comfort, and even rebuke
8
FRANCESCA CARRARA,
for such utter yielding to grief; but as yet Fran-
cesca could only turn to his remonstrances an un-
charmed ear. He found, however, a very attentive
listener in the gentle Lucy.
CHAPTER II.
" Now why
Are her eyes downcast, and his white brow glowing ?
Say, have they vowed while heaven was witness by,
With all her radiant lights, like fountains flowing
To love while water runs and woods are growing 1 "
The Maid of Elvar.
FRANCESCA was one evening returning from her
now favourite occupation, if occupation it could be
called, namely, of sitting by Guide's grave, lost in
profound and gloomy meditation. She would
pass whole hours, full of all those fancies which
haunt the solitude of indulged grief. Here she
recalled all the passages of their former life, till
scarcely could she believe that they were gone by
for ever ! Then, again, she almost thought that
the soft and wailing wind which swept mournfully
through the sepulchral boughs of the large old
yews, had a voice not of this world was it the
inarticulate plaining of her brother's gentle spirit,
debarred from intercourse, but still keeping over
her the deep and eternal watch of love? She
B 2
10 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
soothed herself with the belief that the workings
of her soul were still known to him, that her
regret and her despondency were but the needful
preparation for that other sphere, where now her
only remaining hope was garnered.
There are some moods which are singularly pro-
fitless ; and such is that of allowing the thoughts
to wander into combinations of past events with
creations never likely to occur. This was the state
of Francesca's mind. She employed herself in in-
venting situations, imagining conversations, recall-
ing facts long since forgotten, in utter waste of the
imagination. Ah ! the weight of actual existence
forces us to dream an unreal one.
It was growing late, for one pale pure star
trembled on the verge of the horizon, while the
rosy clouds melted away before its calm, clear
light, like a spiritual influence refining the pas-
sionate hues which are of earth and earth's
vapours. The moon, too, was rising at first,
white, like frosted silver ; but soon brightening
into her own peculiar and lucid radiance.
Francesca passed slowly into the forest now
with the boughs closing over her head, and then
opening into a glen flooded with moonlight, whose
only tenants were the deer crouching amid the fern.
Even her soft step startled them ; up sprung the
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 11
herd, and sought some further recess, leaving the
place to deeper stillness than before.
No one can feel gay by moonlight ; the in-
fluence is as overpowering as it is solemn. There
are a thousand mysterious sympathies, which act
upon our nature, and for which we can render up
no account ; and the power of this mournful and
subduing beauty may be more easily acknowledged
than analysed. But the young, the buoyant, and
the glad, feel it. They wander alone, and the
thoughts unconsciously take a tone of tender me-
lancholy. Alas ! it is some dim prophecy of the
future, with all its cares and its sorrows, that
floats upon the atmosphere ; and we are pene-
trated by the effect, though the cause be unre-
vealed.
Francesca deeply felt the sadness of the hour :
more than once she stopped to dash aside the
tears that fell thick and fast ; and with even more
^ than usual tenderness did her thoughts revert to
the dead and to the departed. She felt so isolated
so thrown back upon herself. " How dif-
ferent," thought she, " would my destiny have
been, had Evelyn been less unworthy of the great
and true love which I bore him ! Good God ! is
I the heart a light thing, to be so trifled with? How
has that brief period coloured my whole existence !
12 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
I look back to our too happy days in Italy, when
I trusted that I was beloved, as if the rest of my
life had been a vision, and only that brief space
reality. How many new feelings then awoke
within me ! Till then I knew not how to enjoy a
sudden loveliness seemed to animate all nature;
but it was from my own fresh and glad hopes that
it came. Ah ! did I not love him then? I cannot
imagine sorrow or suffering that I could not have
endured for his sake, I never even dreamed of a
separate future ! How well I recollect the delight
with which I listened to my own voice, when I
strove to utter words of his language ! And now
I speak that tongue as if it were mine own, I
stand upon his native soil, I can see in the dis-
tance those halls he so often described, and yet
I know that we are parted, and for ever parted
by his own false tongue and fickle mind ! Alas,
alas ! it is not only his loss for which I weep
nay, for that I do not weep pride alone would
keep me from weeping for one whom I scorn ; but
I do weep over the warm feelings, the believing
hopes all that was good and kind in my nature,
with which he tampered but to destroy. Never
again can I love ; for in whom could I trust and
confide as I did in him who deceived me ? The
contrast between my past and present is too bitter.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 13
I cannot bear to think on the utter blank of the
days to come ; and yet how happy, how very
happy, they might have been ! "
Francesca's current of thought was at this mo-
ment interrupted by the sound of voices near a
circumstance too unusual not to excite surprise ;
and one step forward enabled her to see the
speakers, though herself unseen. She paused
breathless with amazement. The moonlight shone
full on the little dell which lay just below the
narrow path she was threading, and, falling di-
rectly on the face of the cavalier, revealed the
features of him who had been so present to her
meditation the features of Evelyn ; and, her
hand clasped in his, her slender form bent timidly
towards him in that attitude of shrinking yet
earnest attention, which is bestowed but upon one
subject, was Lucy Aylmer !
For a moment Francesca was motionless, and
continued gazing on the two below. It was like
the sensation of a dream, in which to move is to
awaken. There he stood, the folds of his dark
cloak rather adding to the effect of his graceful
figure ; the pale moonbeam glittering on his white
upraised brow and the subdued colour which it
gave suiting well with the softened expression of
his countenance. So had she seen him stand amid
14 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
the pine boughs that sheltered their own early
meetings ; and now those gentle looks were turned
on another, and those impassioned words breathed
again, but not for her.
Gradually they had drawn nearer to where
she was concealed ; the sound of their voices rose
upon her ear, another instant, and she would be
able to distinguish their words. The idea of being
a hidden listener instantly recalled her to herself.
With a noiseless step she turned away, and sought
the next path, which led her home. Many and
bitter were the thoughts which crossed her mind
as she returned. No woman can see with indif-
ference the man whom she once loved devoted to
another. No: though the heart has long since
renounced the creed of its former faith, has
awakened to its errors, and reasoned away the once
exquisite delusion ; still the weakness lingers ; and
it needed all Francesca's vivid remembrance of
Evelyn's treachery and meanness, to prevent her
softening almost into regret for her faithless lover.
But pride did what reason could not : she felt that
she had deserved far other return and disdain is
sorrow's most certain consolation.
15
CHAPTER HI.
" Tear follows tear, where long no tear hath been ;
rl see the present on a distant goal,
The past, revived, is present to my soul."
BLACKIE'S Faust.
FRANCESCA reached their home about half an hour
before Lucy ; but so occupied was she with her
own agitated thoughts, that time passed without
notice. Supper was the only meal which Law-
rence Aylmer took with his daughter, when the
business of the day was at end, and he had, as he
would have termed it, " a right to enjoy himself."
But he fell into the common mistake of putting
enjoyment off over long ; and night usually found
him too thoroughly tired out with the day's fatigue
to take more than the passive pleasure of silence
and rest.
Francesca's abstraction was of such general
occurrence that it could excite no particular atten-
tion. Lucy, from being afraid of her father, was
always quiet ; and Lawrence Aylmer went on with
an occasional sentence touching the rumours of
16 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
risings and conspiracies in the neighbourhood,
quite unconscious of the agitated state of his lis-
teners. Yet Francesca could not but marvel that
the unusual absence and trouble of Lucy could
escape her father's eye. Shy she always was, but
attentive. She listened anxiously to the little that
he said, and was careful that any delicacy which
had been prepared should be held out as an
inducement for him to eat not so much for the
thing itself as a slight mark of her own care. But
to night she was quite absorbed. A rich colour
mantled like wine into her cheek a sweet,- un-
certain smile played about her mouth ; and the
downcast eyes seemed to repose on the happy and
beating heart within.
When supper was over, all sought at once their
own chambers. Lucy's farewell for the night to
Francesca was even affectionate ; it was more so
than usual, for her lips overflowed with the tender
and excited feelings, whose delicious consciousness
was now upon the charmed present. One ques-
tion from her companion would have drawn forth
her precious secret ; for Lucy was silent from
timidity, not from reserve. But that question
Francesca could not ask she felt unequal to it.
She needed the solitude of her own room to com-
pose her scattered thoughts she dared not trust
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 17
herself to say aught on the impulse. She embraced
Lucy, and bade her a hurried good-night ; and
each sought what was to each a sleepless pillow
but sleepless from what different causes !
Lucy was in the flutter of excited spirits, of
winged hopes of all that makes the early para-
$ise of love. To have seen Evelyn under*any
circumstances would have been a joy to make
the treasure of long and after -absence ; but to
meet him, still unchanged, and still her own,
what wonder, in the quiet midnight, that his voice
every word a vow or a flattery seemed to
haunt her ear! that those flashing eyes arose
distinct almost as reality, before which it was so
strange, yet sweet to shrink ! Distrust is an
acquired feeling we never doubt till we have
been deceived; and falsehood in no shape had
formed part of Lucy's experience. She would as
soon have questioned the truth of her own affection,
as one assertion of Evelyn's : she believed him
implicitly. Her only idea of fear sprang from a
timid sense of her own inferiority. Was it possible
that she could be loved by a descendant of that
haughty race to which, from childhood, she had
been accustomed to yield such deference to look
up to with such veneration ?
Evelyn's attachment to her was of a much
18 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
more mixed kind. Her affection he certainly was
decided on winning ; but what to do with it when
won was a point he had considered as little as
possible to chance he trusted the destiny of that
young and innocent heart. Just at present, even
her slight services were of infinite value. Disap-
poiifted in a scheme of personal aggrandisement
which he had been led to form on the accession of
Richard to the Protectorate, he had rashly engaged
in a conspiracy for the restoration of the exiled
family. He trusted, in his own neighbourhood,
especially during Lord Avonleigh's absence, that
his influence would be considerable ; and a rising
of some extent had been planned, and a promising
scheme laid, to surprise the castle at Southampton.
The recesses of the forest answered well the
purposes of concealment, and Lucy was useful both
as an unsuspected messenger, and also for the
intelligence she was able to obtain. She, poor
girl, in the meantime, was lulled in that waking
dream, the dearest and the most evanescent of
all the visions wherewith the heart beguiles the
care and the sorrow of actual existence.
But if Lucy was restless with the fever of
hope and joy, Francesca was as sleepless on her
unquiet pillow, from far other causes. The bit-
ter recollections revived by the sudden appear-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 19
ance of Evelyn sopn merged in the gloomy mono-
tony which had become the ruling tone of her
mind. But not so did her affectionate interest in
Lucy. So young, so g'entle, so unsuspecting, was
her happiness to be another sacrifice? should she
tell her all that had come to her own knowledge
all the painful records of her own experience?
And yet it was possible he might love her love
her truly and deeply : if so, of what avail would
it be to lower him in her esteem ? It were best for
Lucy still to gaze with sightless eyes on her idol.
Little good ever came of another's interference ;
and hours after hours passed by, and Francesca
only grew more and more inclined to silence.
Perhaps the languor that hung over her somewhat
influenced this resolve. She could nerve herself
to exertion she could not speak of the past.
20
CHAPTER IV.
A careless set they were, in whose bold hands
Swords were like toys."
THAT transient but most lovely hour which follows
the sunset was now melting away in the far re-
cesses of the forest. A few gleams of richer hues
still lingered in some of the crimson clouds which
yet treasured up a sunbeam ; but the great expanse
was filled with that pure and pale purple, so soon
to merge in deeper gloom, or to tremble into silvery
light beneath the radiant and rising moon. The
glorious dyes of autumn autumn, that comes in
like a conqueror, but departs like a mourner
were upon the boughs, but lost in that undistin-
guishing light which subdued all things with its
own gentle tinting.
Again, in that little lonely glade, which to
them was as a temple, Lucy met that young
cavalier, now full of the excitement of his adven-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 21
ture ; while she, alive only to its dangers, would
fain have found words to implore him to desist.
And yet, for a moment, each yielded to the sof-
tening influence of the scene each forgot that
there was a world beyond that singing brook,
whose tiny waves went murmuring along, scarce
so loud as the beating of the heart. Every bough
drooped in complete repose. Not a bird was on
the wing to disturb the sleeping leaves not a
wind was abroad to make music among the
branches.
Lucy stood looking down on the brook where
was outlined the noble figure of her lover ; while
he gazed upon her, though he could catch only
the profile, and the crimsoned cheek of the averted
face.
The moon, which had been slowly ascending,
now shone through an open space between the
trees ; and the rippling waters of the brook gave
back her light in luminous vibrations.
Evelyn started. " I shall be late!" exclaimed
he. "My own sweetest Lucy, farewell! you
shall hear from me to-morrow."
No longer sustained by his arm, she leant for
support against an oak beside ; while he loosened
the bridle of his horse, which had been fastened
near, and, springing at once into the saddle, in-
22 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
clined into the gesture of farewell, and darted off
with furious speed along one of the narrow roads.
Lucy strove to raise her hand to wave but one
parting sign down it sank, powerless. At last a
violent burst of tears expressed rather than relieved
the feelings with which her heart was overcharged ;
and slowly she turned from the little brook which
she had kept watching, as if she expected it still
to retain the image of Evelyn. Anxiety prepon-
derated over hope ; and it was scarcely possible for
Evelyn to encounter a danger not previously con-
jured up by the alarmed fancy of his mistress.
Leaving her to pursue her disconsolate path
homewards, starting at every shadow that fell
upon her way, and turning pale at the slightest
sound, we will accompany Evelyn on his ride
through the forest.
It has often been said, and so truly that one is
perpetually tempted to say it again, that nothing
exhilarates the spirits like a brisk gallop ; and I
believe, if ever we feel the enjoyment of mere
existence, it is when, with foot in the stirrup and
hand on the bridle, the ground seems to fly beneath
the fiery creature, which is urged to its utmost
speed. The air blows fresh against your face
the scene changes every instant. There is a sense
of freedom and of power a lively stir of all the
FRANCESCA CAERARA. 23
bodily faculties, which sends the blood dancing in
a cheerful current, little known to the dull mono-
tony of common hours. Evelyn saw the moonlit
glades disappear one after another, as he dashed
on, careless of the many obstacles that opposed his
speed ; but the horse which he rode was forest bred
and it is strange with what fearless sagacity
these animals thread their native paths.
At length Evelyn dropped the reins ; and,
leaping to the ground, led his docile follower
quietly along, that he might be cool previous to
the coming pause. The narrow path suddenly
opened upon a little glade, the smallest heath-
blossom of which was visible in the flood of
clear moonlight which rested upon it. It was
the dell of Rufus's stone, around which some
dozen dark figures were congregated ; but an
occasional laugh, and the sound of animated dis-
course, gave an almost unnatural cheerfulness to
the place.
Conspiracies, like all other exercises of human
ingenuity, are of very different kinds. The gloomy
plots arranged in old Italian halls the dungeon,
sudden and silent as the grave, beneath their feet
the worm-eaten tapestries mouldering on the
walls, and many a dark stain on the time-worn
floor, were formed by the Venetian noble in the
24 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
black robe, so emblematic of his dreary state, with
the rack in perspective, and the dagger and the
poisoned bowl, at once his enemies arid his auxi-
liaries. These were very opposite affairs to the
reckless and daring attempts of the merry and
bold cavaliers, whose inspiration was the red wine,
whose faith was in their own good sword, and
whose loyalty made up in gaiety and disinterested-
ness what it lacked in prudence and forethought.
The whole party hastened to greet Evelyn.
" What news V exclaimed one youth, who, in his
hurry, allowed the flask which he held to waste
its rosy contents on the spotted moss.
" Good!" said Evelyn; "Sir George Booth
has surprised Chester."
" A favourable omen for Southampton/' replied
another.
" And," continued Evelyn, " the King" at
the name, every cavalier took off his plumed cap :
and the sudden wave of their white plumes in the
moonbeam was like a flash of lightning " awaits
at Calais the success of to-night's enterprise. South-
ampton seems a safe landing place, and Louis has
ordered a choice detachment of troops to attend his
will."
" Now,' by St. George!" exclaimed Charles
Goring, the youth who had before spoken, " we
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 25
need no swords but our own to strike for our
lawful monarch !"
" Faith, those cursed Roundheads," answered
Evelyn, " are strongly placed. No cause, how-
ever good, is the worse for help. But now, gen-
tlemen, to decide on our proceedings."
A unanimous exclamation called upon Evelyn
himself to speak ; and, after a minute's politic
pause, he went on to state his plan.
" You are aware that Colonel Mainwaring
will to-night attempt to land from the Isle of
Wight, with a small but picked body in the dis-
guise of smugglers. A bright light flung in the
air will announce the success of their landing,
when they will disperse through the town ; and
one, a cool, bold fellow, whom I know well, will
unlock the town gate, and for he has various
talents hopes, through his influence with a pretty
daughter of one of the wardens, to leave unbarred
a certain wicket in the postern on the seaward
side. Our part is now to ride with all speed to
Southampton. We shall assemble in the avenue
leading to the town ; for though I hear no tidings
of troops in the neighbourhood, it is best to be
cautious ; and, to avoid suspicion, we will separate
and seek our rendezvous in parties of two and
VOL. III. C
26 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
three. And now, gentlemen, for the avenue of
Southampton !"
A general murmur of assent arose from his
little auditory.
" I will ride with you," whispered Charles
Goring. " I see that we have each on the uniform
of our old regiment ; we have fought side by side
before now, and will again."
Evelyn clasped the hand which was warmly
extended to him ; and, turning to the rest, said,
" One health, cavaliers, before we part ! I see
you have kept out the night air by a gallant array
of flasks."
Charles Goring stepped forward, and, filling a
silver cup, offered it to Evelyn, who, bending on
one knee, drank, " To the health of King Charles,
and to a gay supper to-night in Southampton
Castle!"
The toast was drank unanimously, and the
glade rang with acclamations. For a moment
all was tumult: the hurried sound of steps, the
trampling of the horses, while the birds, disturbed
from their quiet roost, fluttered amid the boughs,
followed by a shower of dry leaves ; and the deer,
sleeping in the thickest brakes, started up, and
galloped off through the crackling bushes.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 27
" God and King Charles ! is the watch-word,"
said Evelyn. " Gentlemen, forward ! "
" Now, by that God whose name ye so rashly
profane, I adjure you to pause, and at least hear
the words of his humblest minister, before you
adventure forth on your rash and ill-advised
expedition ! "
For a moment all stood still, and gazed with
surprise at the intruder who risked so strange an
interference with their counsel. He was a young
man, pale with strong excitement, and whose black
dress bespoke his calling. Taking advantage of
the surprise, which insured him at least tran-
sient attention, he continued, addressing himself
particularly to Evelyn.
" It matters little," and here a flitting crim-
son passed over his countenance, " by what means
I became acquainted with your present purpose,
Providence directs our weakness to its own wise
ends ; but I do know that you are bound on an
errand of blood, dangerous to others, fatal to your-
selves. Let not your rash ambition again bring
death into our land. We are now, after sore
troubles, at peace ; in peace let us remain. What
wild and vain hope tempts you to rekindle the
flame of civil war so recently extinguished ? Why
would you again arm father against son, and
28 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
brother against brother? Our midnights pass
now in security. Do none of ye, as children, re-
member how ye trembled as the horizon in the
distance reddened, and told that the enemy was
at hand and that enemy your own countrymen?
For the love of the Saviour, draw not those swords
from their scabbards to dye them in English
blood!"
But Charles Aubyn (for it was he) had, like
most enthusiasts, overcalculated the influence of
his eloquence ; surprise had alone procured him a
hearing, and the bold cavaliers around were little
in the mood for a homily.
" Time is too precious to be wasted in words,"
said Evelyn, who was the first to recover himself.
" Secure the meddling fool ! " and Aubyn found
himself the next instant pinioned between two of
the company.
" I misdoubt me much that he is a spy!" whis-
pered one of the elder cavaliers.
" If so," exclaimed Goring, " but that I dis-
dain to soil steel on suc"h ignoble prey "
" Dead men tell no tales," replied the other,
drawing his sword arid approaching their luckless
adviser.
" Not so," interrupted Evelyn, who feeling in-
terested, despite of himself, in the calm courage of
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
29
the young priest, was reluctant to see him mur-
dered before his eyes, and who had reason of old
to know the ferocious temper of his companion.
" Leave it to me ; I know how to manage these
tetes monies. Release your prisoner !"
Charles Aubyn was left at perfect freedom ;
but he stood firm, and gave the young chief a look
as collected, if less haughty, than his own.
" Mr. Aubyn," said Evelyn, " for I believe it
is that gentleman whom I have the honour of ad-
dressing, and whose acquaintance I had hoped to
make under different circumstances, I esteem the
motives of your interference j but, however opposed
our sense of duty, it is as strong as your own.
That duty, sir, leads us to peril life and liberty in
the service of that earthly sovereign whom we hold
to be the representative of our heavenly one. You
cannot hope that a few words will change the set-
tled purpose of years. You can do us no good
you may do us harm ; but Mr. Aubyn's known
character is our guarantee against treachery. You
are at perfect liberty; to your honour alone we
trust that you will not betray those to whom you
owe your life. Good night, sir. And, once more,
forward, cavaliers!"
Again came the hurried trampling of the steeds,
the crash of the branches, the sound of the receding
30 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
hoofs ; but in less than five minutes all was still.
The moonlight fell on the stone of the murdered
king, calm as if its silvery flood had not been
broken by shadows of men agitated by bold am-
bition and daring design, and bound on a fearful
service, whose end, to some, at least, must be
death !
With feelings of mixed sorrow and mortifica-
tion, Charles Aubyn stood gazing on the lonely
dell. His knowledge of the conspirators' inten-
tions had arisen from an interest, scarcely avowed
even to himself, in Lucy Aylmer. Accustomed to
loiter round her path living for days on the
hope of a brief " good morrow," kindly uttered
as he crossed her way he had been the uninten-
tional witness of her last interview with Evelyn.
His first impulse was to join the drooping maiden,
and conduct her home with at least a brother's
care ; but his second bore with it the sterner call
of a duty : surely he might warn and expostulate
with the thoughtless band, about to throw the
chances of life and death, as if they were the dice
with which they beguiled an idle evening. He
had grown up in a part of the country which had
suffered the most from civil war, and its horrors
were deeply rooted in his imagination. Too en-
thusiastic for fear and, we must add, for discre-
FBANCESCA CARRARA. 31
tion he resolved on seeking the place, and urging
the dangers which encompassed them round about ;
and he reached it almost as soon as Evelyn, who,
to avoid the public road, was obliged to take a very
circuitous route. The result is already known;
and all that Charles Aubyn gained by his inter-
ference, was a nearer view of his graceful rival,
and a deep conviction of his generosity. No
wonder that he left the glen with a hasty step,
and sought his own home, fevered with disappoint-
ment and regret.
32
CHAPTER V.
" You spoke of innovations, and I also believe it is ill to try
experiments in states, unless the need be urgent."
The Buccaneer.
EVELYN and young Goring rode side by side
where the road permitted, and, when too narrow,
one or other galloped gaily forward. Both were
in high spirits, and confident of success.
" Such a scene," said Evelyn, " as I have left
behind me in London ! Richard impatient to
enact
' Retired leisure,
Which in trim gardens takes its pleasure/
asking every body's advice, and, out of anxiety
to benefit by all, profiting by none, ready to
proclaim Charles Stuart in the morning, but re-
solved on keeping his Protectorship to the last at
night, now going to disband the army, and now
to dissolve the Parliament, and yet unable to make
up his mind to either."
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 33
" His mind, did you say ?" interrupted Goring;
" his mind ! verily it is a piece of most courtier-
like flattery to imply that he ever had one, it is
very evident that you are fresh from Whitehall."
" Flattery," resumed the other, " would be a
great waste of time there. No one has suffi-
ciently the upper hand to make it worth while to
flatter ; and really it is a sort of thing too useful to
be thrown away. In the House, Hazelrig and
Vane counterbalance each other. Hazelrig has
all the influence of noise and obstinacy, but he
is a fool ; Vane has that of enthusiasm and talent,
but he is mad. His reign for a thousand years
over the faithful a consummation in which he
devoutly believes will effectually prevent his at-
taining any other reign. Lambert's power is great
with the soldiers ; but others have power, too.
Some run wild, after the same fashion as Colonel
Harrisson, and wait for the inspirations of the
spirit ; others, again, are at the beck of their old
commander, Lord Fairfax ; while the northern
army is under General Monk, who, among our-
selves, is believed to be loyally disposed. By
heavens ! it raises my admiration of Cromwell to
its height, when I think how he swayed these
discordant materials ay, and by his own strong
hand and clear head alone."
c2
34 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" True," replied Goring ; " though it is one of
those disagreeable truths I purpose forgetting the
first opportunity. But from the time I saw him,
when a prisoner after the battle of Worcester, his
dark brow bent upon us in disdain, rather than
exultation; his calm, clear, grey eye triumphant,
but unexcited, which seemed to look through every
object which it scanned ; his very gesture a com-
mand ; and, though in the first flush of victory,
not a muscle seemed stirred, not a look told that
this ' crowning mercy ' was more than a rational
belief, which had been fulfilled according to his ex-
pectation. I felt our genius rebuked before his : I
seemed suddenly to know that he was the destiny
of England."
" It was the wonderful influence that is ever
the heritage of a great mind ; but it is an heritage
which descends not. Cromwell's power died with
himself, the elements of ambition, fanaticism,
desire of change, and jarring interests, have all
gone back to their original chaos. Confusion is
the order of the day."
" So much the better for us," exclaimed Go-
ring ; " you know the old saying :
' March winds and April showers
Bring forth May flowers.'
We will take it as our motto."
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 35
" Hist!" whispered Evelyn ; " I surely heard
some one move in those bushes."
They drew up hastily side by side, and first
looked to their arms, then with a close scrutiny
towards the adjacent copse. It was but an instant's
pause ; for the branches were dashed aside, and
the moonbeams shone on the glittering hauberks
of the Parliamentary troops.
" Surrender!" cried the dull harsh tones of
the corporal, their leader.
" We must fight for it !" exclaimed Evelyn ;
and clapping spurs to his horse, and drawing his
sword, he made a desperate effort to pass the
soldiers. It was in vain : the report of fire-arms
startled the horse, who reared and fell backwards,
bearing his unfortunate rider to the earth, who
was at once surrounded and made prisoner; but
with no bodily injury, beyond the shock of the
fall. Goring, like himself, had sprang forwards,
first snatching a pistol from his holsters, and dis-
charging it at him who seemed to be the chief of
the party, the man reeled, and fell ; but his fall
was instantly avenged. The young Royalist had
broken the circle, and gained the road beyond
the soldiers fired he leapt up in the saddle, and
then dropped forward on the neck of the fright-
36 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
ened creature that bore him : one violent plunge
flung him from the saddle a corpse!
The first thing that Evelyn saw when he re-
covered from the stunning shock of his fall, was
his young and gallant companion stretched on the
ground. The long brown hair, of whose luxuriance
personal and party vanity had been so proud, was
already matted by the crimson tide that welled
from the fair forehead, into which the bullet had
entered ; and the features, pale in the clear moon-
light, wore the cold and rigid contraction which
marks death, and death alone. Evelyn's heart
sickened within him. But a moment before, and
they had been riding gaily and fearlessly together,
full of hope and of life j and now, there he lay,
struck to the earth without pity or warning, his
career ended, his brave ambition laid low !
" The King has lost a loyal servant, and I a
true friend,' 7 muttered Evelyn, as he leant over
the body ; but the words choked in utterance, and,
as he knelt beside, he hid his face in his hands.
Little time was, however, allotted for the indul-
gence of grief : he was roused by one of the soldiers
touching his arm, and desiring him to mount.
With what different feelings did he now put
foot in stirrup to the last time when he sprung to
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 37
horse ? His sword was taken from him, his arms
bound, and two men went, one on each side, hold-
ing the bridle, with which they guided him on his
most unwilling path.
" Good God!" exclaimed he, " you will not
leave the corpse thus exposed in the forest?"
" If we had a gibbet convenient," replied the
corporal in a sullen tone, " we would hang the
malignant thereon ; as it is, the delicate youth
must e'en lie on the ground till morning. We
have one body to carry already a good and pious
lad, whose life had been cheaply bought by a
dozen such as your's."
All further remonstrance was lost, for the
party who took charge of the prisoner commenced
a quick gallop through the forest. At length they
arrived at the open road, skirted by a wide heath,
bounded by the rising heights of the undulating
country. Evelyn cast his eyes round in the very
weariness of his spirits, striving, by every outward
impression, to fix his attention. He succeeded
beyond his hope ay, and beyond his wish; for
even as he looked, he saw a brilliant light ascend
high in the air, burst into a multitude of sparkles,
and then die away in the far blue sky. He
knew that Colonel Mainwaring had effected a
landing. To think that he should have been so
38 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
successful, and himself a prisoner ! He cursed his
ill-luck. " That very light, which I hear the
fools behind me taking for a falling star, and
drawing portents from already, might well serve
for an omen of my present enterprise. It has been
carefully concealed, and studiously prepared, it
sets out on its radiant ascent full of bright hopes ;
suddenly it bursts, the glittering sparkles di<
away, and all is calm and dark as before. The
emblem of this enterprise why, it is the very
emblem of my fate! Pshaw! there are many follies
in this world, but none so foolish as regret. At
all events, I am not dead yet ; though rather
nearer his skeleton majesty's presence than I at
all desire. Well, I wonder whether they will
hang, head, or shoot me ? Now really the illus-
trious house of Evelyn ought to be complimented
with the axe ; but these beggarly Roundheads
have no idea of a gentleman's feelings." And,
to the infinite displeasure of his conductors, the
young cavalier began humming a popular Royal-
ist song.
39
CHAPTER VI.
" You shall know all to-morrow."
Rookwood.
FRANCESCA and Lucy had both passed the day in
that most uncomfortable state of each desiring to
make her inward thoughts known to the other,
and yet neither having the resolution to begin.
Like all persons who have suffered much, there
was something of languor about Francesca. She
dreaded either feeling or inflicting pain ; she
shrunk from emotion ; and though a dozen times,
despite of her settled plan of non-interference,
she resolved on speaking to her companion ;
yet, when the opportunity arrived, she involun-
tarily put it off till some other more favour-
able occasion, which never came. Lucy's was
only a natural timidity, a girlish shame of owning
that she had a lover. The ice once broken, she
would have taken the usual pleasure in talking
40 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
about him ; but to begin was so very difficult. On
her return home from meeting Evelyn, it was
impossible for one so little versed in duplicity, so
little accustomed to self-restraint, to conceal her
anxiety and depression. She sat in the window,
seemingly occupied in watching the moonlight
touching with pale the crimson of the few late
roses that clustered round the casement ; but the
large tears fell upon the flowers, and the deep-
drawn breath betrayed the scarcely checked sob.
Francesca, who, since Guide's death, had shrank
from the contemplation of natural loveliness, was
seated in a large arm-chair, which stood in the
darkest corner of the room, silent, sad, but less
abstracted than usual ; for her thoughts were busy
with her companion. She marked the colourless
cheek, the mournful attitude ; and, rising from her
place, approached Lucy, took the other half of the
window-seat, and bending kindly towards her,
said, " You are weeping, dear Lucy ; what is the
matter? can I do any thing for you?"
There are moments when a kind word or look
goes direct to the heart : these did so with Lucy,
who, throwing her arms round her friend's neck,
gave way to a violent burst of tears.
" Poor child!" exclaimed Francesca, soothing
her with a sister's affection. " Lucy, love, do not
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 41
mind me I think I know much of what you can
tell me."
Lucy raised her face, carnationed with the
most vivid blush, but hid it again. She strove to
speak, but an inarticulate murmur was all that
her tremulous lips could produce. Before Fran-
cesca could speak words of encouragement, fit
answer to that mute but imploring look, their
whole attention was aroused by the trampling of
horses in the yard, a loud knocking at the door,
and voices harsh and authoritative.
Lucy's own knowledge filled her with fears.
" For God's sake," exclaimed she, " let us go and
see what is the matter !" Her strength was un-
equal to the effort, and she sank back; while
Francesca, who was quite ignorant of her secret
cause for apprehension, attributed her alarm to
her feverish state of excitement, so susceptible of
sudden fears; and sprinkling the dewy leaves in
her face, awaited her restoration with a tender
calmness, soon to be destroyed.
" I was afraid you would be frightened," said
Lawrence Aylrner, opening the door abruptly.
" We do live in sad, troubled times. A party of
the Commonwealth's troops have just demanded
shelter for the night, and they have brought a
prisoner with them. I do not at all like my
42 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
house being turned into a jail. Perhaps you
had better not leave this chamber till you go
to bed."
Francesca felt Lucy tremble from head to foot ;
she could scarcely support her; and for with
strange rapidity does the truth flash upon the^
mind* a terrible belief had taken possession of
herself. She strove to ask the question, but her
voice failed her. Lawrence Aylmer was too hur-
ried to notice the singular silence with which his
communication was received, and turned to leave
the room. The agony of anticipated suspense rose
in all its horrors before Francesca " Best to
know the worst " She gasped for breath; but
the effort succeeded " who is the prisoner?" asked
she, in a forced, unnatural voice.
" Mr. Evelyn. He is brought here to await
Major Johnstone's arrival, when, they say, he will
instantly be shot."
The door closed after him lightly ; and yet it
was like a peal of thunder. It was followed by a
sudden fall she turned, and saw Lucy stretched
insensible on the ground.
Francesca felt at first as if she had no power
to succour her. Evelyn so near a prisoner, and
about to die might well absorb every other
thought. She wrung her hands in utter hopeless-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 43
ness; but one glance at the wan and inanimate
form before her recalled her in a measure to
herself. She raised Lucy's head on a stool near ;
and recollecting that in one of the cabinets there
were still some drops which were wont to revive
Guido, she hastened to procure them, and suc-
ceeded in pouring some down Lucy's throat, who
awoke first to life, and then to life's fearful con-
sciousness. All concealment, all restraint, was
over; she flung herself at Francesca's feet, and
frantickly implored her to save him. It was the
despair of a child, who believes there is no bounds
to any power but its own.
The exertion necessary to soctbe and subdue
Lucy's passionate sorrow was the best composer to
Francesca's own agitation. One idea took pos-
session of her imagination. " Was it not possible
to contrive mV escape ?" To effect this, the utmost
presence of mind was needful ; they required calm-
ness and deliberation. But the first hint of such
a plan so overwhelmed Lucy with a paroxysm of
joy, as uncontrollable as her previous alarm, that
at first it seemed almost hopeless to expect assist-
ance, or even obedience, from her. Gradually
she became more collected, and at last they were
able to consult together as to the best measures
for communicating with the prisoner, and evading
44 FBANCESCA CARRARA.
the watchfulness of his guards. Francesca slightly
mentioned that she had known him in France,
reserving the particulars till some later period ;
and Lucy was too engrossed in the present to have
one word to say of either past or future.
45
CHAPTER VII.
" Look to your prisoner, there!"
" AND now, my dearest Lucy, collect yourself, for
all depends upon our own resources." Such were
the whispered exclamations with which Francesca
cheered her trembling companion, whose courage
was not heightened by the darkness and stillness
around them as they proceeded on their hazardous
enterprise.
We have before mentioned that Lawrence
Aylmer's dwelling had been in former times a
monastery, and abounded in small rooms and
long passages, while a large portion was entirely
uninhabited. The chamber in which Evelyn was
confined was one only employed in drying herbs,
and was situated at the end of a long gallery.
With this their rooms communicated, though by
a back staircase never used.
46 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
There is something very catching in fear ; and
as they passed through gloomy passages, whose
only tapestry was the spider's web, and whose
boards creaked at every step, while their lantern
threw around fantastic shadows, and scarcely light
enough to enable them to find their way, Lucy
clung to her companion's arm, and with difficulty
suppressed the scream which some sudden dark-
ness or unusual noise forced to her lips. Even
Francesca felt her heart die within her, so con-
tagious was Lucy's terror. And, truly, strong
nerves are required to steal at midnight through
a lonely suite of rooms, haunted by vague ima-
ginings, and all the terrible superstitions and re-
cords accumulated on the past. Connected with
the dark and narrow rooms, the cells of former
days, through which they had to find their way,
was one of those ghastly legends belonging to far-
off time they are too horrible to be believed of
the present.
There are some human beings who seem
marked out for misfortune an evil influence
attends them till laid in that early grave to which
it has hastened their progress ; and such a history
was remembered of the luckless nun, whose first
forced and then broken vows were awfully punished
by a living sepulchre. It was a story to be told on a
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 47
winter evening, till the curdled blood of the hearers
made them ready for that fear which follows close
upon horror ; and it was said that a dark spectre
flitted along that lonely gallery, and that the
November wind had more than once brought
waitings not of this world. The tradition rose
to Lucy's scared fancy; and supernatural terror
was added to real, till at length, if less fright-
ened, Francesca became almost as agitated as her-
self; and, in spite of every firmer resolve, started
as the air came harshly through the many crevices,
and as the uncertain shadows swayed to and
fro. Much as they dreaded encountering the
sentinel, when they arrived in the gallery it was a
relief to hear his measured step, and have their
alarm take that tangible shape which required
exertion. In an instant the quick eye of the prac-
tised soldier caught their shrouded lamp, and
" Who goes there?" rang upon their startled ears
startled as much as if they had not expected
such challenge.
Lucy at once recognised the man's face. He
had been a servant about the farm, and indebted
to her for many a little act of kindness to himself
and his family. Her courage rose with the idea
of not having to address a stranger. " We are
friends, Irvine," said she; " and fortunate do I
48 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
consider myself in having to address a friend in
you. We desire to see your prisoner, and a
stranger might have refused even that slight re-
quest ; but I can rely on your good-nature." So
saying, she attempted to pass.
" No, no, young lady," exclaimed the sentinel,
standing immovable before the door. " I honour
your father and his daughter too much to let you
in on any such errand. What but the exchange
of some vain love-token can lead you to seek the
presence of that gay and noble cavalier ? I know
the ready falsehood of such, where one so fair as
yourself is the object. Maiden, I will not aid you
to lay up sorrow for the future."
Lucy shrunk back, utterly abashed by this
unexpected repulse. Involuntarily she held out
the purse which had been destined as a bribe, but
the words which would have proffered its contents
died on her lips. Francesca, too, remained silent
for a moment; but Evelyn's life was at stake,
and she roused herself. " It is for me," said
she, advancing, and throwing up her veil, " that
Lucy Aylmer desires admission to Mr. Evelyn;
she is but my companion, for I desire not an un-
witnessed interview. But I do implore you, as
you hope for mercy at your extremest need, to let
us pass. I do not talk of recompense, though I
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 49
have gold in abundance ; but I entreat of your
humanity to let us enter. Would you spend your
own last hours in dreary solitude, uncheered by a
single farewell to those the dearest to your heart ?
Would you die, if far away from them, without
sending them one remembrance or one blessing?"
There was something in Francesca's look and
manner that availed her even more than words :
command seemed so much her right, that it was
scarcely possible not to yield.
" Pass on," said the soldier, opening the door
of the apartment, and gazing earnestly on the
pale, beautiful, and foreign-looking face."
" Nay, my friend, no refusal it is no bribe,
for it won you not to grant my prayer ; but I have
now no other way of shewing my gratitude."
Drawing her veil closely around her, and
taking Lucy's arm, though it was her own that
gave the support, she entered the room, and
closed the door; when, listening for a moment,
she heard the monotonous and heavy tread of the
soldier echoing through the passage.
" He sleeps," exclaimed Lucy, bending ten-
derly over Evelyn loath, even in that extremity,
to waken him.
".You must rouse him, dearest every minute
is precious."
VOL. III. D
50 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
Perceiving that Lucy still hesitated, she ap-
proached the slee'per, and with some effort removed
the arm which supported his head, at the same
time calling him by name. Evelyn started to his
feet in a moment, and his hand mechanically
sought his sword the discovery that he was
unarmed Deemed to recall his recollection instant-
aneously he paused just to take breath, folded
his arms, and turned fiercely round to face his
supposed enemy. His glance fell upon Lucy
Aylmer. " My sweetest Lucy !" exclaimed he,
" this is being in company with an angel sooner
than I expected."
Her only answer was a burst of tears, and a
gesture towards Francesca, entreating her to
speak, which drew Evelyn's attention to her com-
panion. Pale and agitated, the young Italian felt
herself incapable of utterance ; and Evelyn stood
fixed to the ground when he recognised his visitor.
" The Signora da Carrara !" he ejaculated ; and
then paused, half surprise and half embarrass-
ment.
Francesca was the first to recover her self-
possession; and coldly and calmly approaching
the prisoner, said, with a voice to which pride
gave firmness, " Mr. Evelyn, time is now too
valuable to be wasted in idle explanations ; I have
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 51
only to say that Lucy Aylmer and myself have
arranged a plan which will, we think, insure your
escape. You must pass for me the dress I wear
will he sufficient disguise and I will remain in
your place till the arrival of Major Johnstone,"
Evelyn started at the name, " who can have no
motive in detaining me prisoner."
Without waiting for a reply, she unbound the
veil from her head, and took off the loose black
novice's robe, which she had put over a gray stuff
dress similar to that worn by Lucy. " I have/ 7
added she, in a saddened tone, " worn this costume
for weeks. I think, on my first arrival, the very
man who keeps the door saw me in it; it can
therefore excite no suspicion, and its wide folds
afford ample concealment."
" Good God!" said Evelyn, " and do you
think so basely of me as to suppose that I would
leave you in my place, exposed both to danger
and insult?"
" I apprehend neither," she replied; " the
bitterest fanatic of them all would scarcely stain
his hands with a woman's blood ; and as to insult,
the grave and severe character of the officer ex-
pected is my best security. But make haste
there is a faint glimmer already in the east ; and
if the day once breaks, you are lost."
52 FRANCESCA CARRARA,
Without awaiting further reply, she began to
arrange the cumbrous drapery.
" Dearest Evelyn," whispered Lucy, in so
tremulous a voice that even his ear could scarcely
catch the words, " for my sake, do not refuse."
A firm determination usually effects its pur-
pose, and the young cavalier at length allowed
Francesca to proceed to the execution of her pur-
pose. The disguise was complete the novice's
garb entirely shrouded his figure, and the long
veil equally concealed his face.
" Now, take Lucy's arm and remember,"
continued she, " that you are overcome with emo-
tion. Ah ! one thing we had nearly forgotten
those riding-boots will lead to instant detection.
I had put on the slippers of"-*- she could not arti-
culate the name of Guido " over my own ; you
must substitute them for your rougher array."
Evelyn obeyed, and then, turning hastily to-
wards her, exclaimed, " Lady, you cannot dream
how unworthy I am of your heroic kindness ; but
the ill I have done I may yet repair, and, little as
you may now suspect it, your own future happi-
ness is one great inducement for my thus attempt-
ing an escape."
" Mine !" murmured Francesca with a bitter
and scornful smile; when, seeing that Lucy was
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 53
employed in fresh-trimming the lantern, she whis-
pered, " think rather of that gentle creature yon-
der so young, so good, so innocent, let her not
be a sacrifice."
" Ah! I love her," said he in the same whis-
pering tone. " If not my wife, she will never be
more to me than the loveliest dream of my
existence."
" A dream," thought Francesca, " which, alas !
will cost her happiness."
But there was no time for further parley.
Francesca threw round her Evelyn's cloak, put
on his plumed hat, drew his glove on one hand,
and leaning her head upon it, might well, to a
casual glance, have seemed the cavalier.
Evelyn and Lucy opened the door of the
chamber. They passed on, and the sentinel looked
in, and saw, as he thought, his prisoner. " I must
wish you good night for my friend and myself
poor thing !" said Lucy, in a low voice.
The man touched his cap respectfully, and
with slow steps they proceeded along the gallery.
How distinctly could Evelyn feel the heart of the
terrified girl beat against his arm ! At last they
reached the extremity the heavy door swung to
after them. Lucy tried to draw the bolt, but her
hand trembled too much, and her companion was
54 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
obliged to perform the task. " Quick !" whis-
pered she, and rapidly they threaded the deserted
rooms. " You can throw off your cumbersome
disguise here," said Lucy, though the words could
scarcely be distinguished, from her excessive agita-
tion. Evelyn hastily caught up a cloak and cap
laid ready for him, and a few minutes brought
them into the sitting-room. " This window opens
on the garden go straight along yon shadowy
walk the mound at its end will enable you to
mount the wall you can spring down, and then
your path lies direct to the forest. Oh, make
haste God bless you !"
He clasped her tenderly to his heart, and was
gone. She watched him through the walk, for
there was just a faint light that outlined his figure
on the still dusky air. Almost before she drew her
suspended breath, he was lost among the trees.
She raised her hands with a mute gesture of grati-
tude to Heaven, and sank on the window seat.
55
CHAPTER VIII.
" How felt the maiden in that hour V
SCOTT.
THE first few moments after the door closed upon
Evelyn and his companion were passed by Fran-
cesca in a state of horrible anxiety ; every instant
she expected to hear that the sentinel had dis-
covered the deception. She counted in her own
mind the steps along the gallery ; at last she
heard, as those whose senses are quickened by
some strong excitement can hear, the door at the
end of the passage close ; then all was still, save
the measured tread of the soldier passing to and fro.
With an intense feeling of composure and relief,
she let her head sink on her arm ; and, while a
few large but quiet tears fell almost unconsciously,
remained for a time only alive to the repose that
follows when the nerves have been overwrought,
and mind and body taxed to their utmost; the
56 FEANCESCA CARRARA.
feverish restlessness which is sure to succeed ex-
haustion was yet to come.
The noise of relieving the guard at the door of
the chamber first roused her. Some one looked
in, but, apparently satisfied, did not enter; and
again all was silent, save the tramp of heavy steps
up and down the gallery, Francesca gazed around ;
the dim lamp was flickering in the socket, and
spread a far black shadow ; a cold gray light came
through the dusty and broken windows, while the
unfurnished and disconsolate chamber, floor, and
walls, discoloured with neglect and time, added to
the gloomy influence of the scene.
The first struggle between light and darkness
is a dreary hour, the air is so raw, so cold; the
want of rest is then most severely felt ; sleep avenges
itself for its dismissal by sending stupor in its
place ; and the relaxed nerves and worn out spirits
presage the misfortunes which th6y yet lack
strength to meet. All the annoyance to which
she might presently be subjected, all the miscon-
ception to which her conduct was liable, rose
gloomily upon her mind. With feverish impa-
tience she watched the objects grow more and
more distinct, while the perpetual pacing of the
sentinel outside seemed insupportable to her jaded
hearing. A rosier tint came upon the atmosphere,
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 57
and at length^a sunbeam fell upon the expiring
lamp its glad and golden radiance was a mockery,
and the wan flame perished before it. Sounds
now began to break the monotony of the soldier's
steps ; first, a low chirp rang through the boughs,
and soon the songs of the many birds filled the
air with the music and cheerfulness of morning ;
while through the shattered lattices came the rich
flush the crimsoned beauty of an autumn dawn.
" Major Johnstone must soon be here!" and,
in spite of herself, Francesca trembled, though
more from feminine timidity than alarm. In the
hurry and fever of the previous night, she had not
given a thought to the consequences now they
arose in painful array before her ; her very -courage,
as concerned danger, rather heightened than dimi-
nished their annoyance had she been more fear-
ful, she would have been less embarrassed ; love,
too, would have supported her by its own en-
grossing nature ; but she had acted solely from
an impulse of high-toned generosity. When she
could assist Evelyn, she disdained to visit upon
him aught of personal resentment.
As the morning advanced, her anxiety in-
creased. Suddenly an unusual noise broke in
upon the singing of the birds; surely it was the
trampling of horses' feet ! She held her breath to
D2
58 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
listen, for she could scarcely catch it; yes, there
certainly was the sound of voices, confused and
distant, then all was still again. A few minutes
of agonising suspense succeeded ; then came the
tread of heavy feet along the gallery. She heard
a loud, harsh voice distinct above the others,
though, of course, she could not distinguish the
words. The door of the chamber opened, and
some one entered slowly, and approached the table.
She felt, though her face was bowed upon her
hand, that the darkness of his shadow was upon
her.
The visitor paused ; then, shaking her roughly
by the arm, exclaimed, " Up, thoughtless sleeper!
there is but brief space between thee and eternity :
give that space to thy God ! Great as are the
injuries now about to be requited on thy own head,
I would not have thee depart this life with no
prayer on thy lips for forgiveness." He drew
aside the cloak, and all concealment was over.
The young Italian rose from the seat, pale, but
resolved ; and if her hands were involuntarily
clasped in the timid supplication belonging to her
sex, her dark eyes were filled with the fiery pride
native to her heroic race. The surprise was so
great, that for a moment Major Johnstone neither
spoke nor moved, but remained gazing on the
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 59
beautiful face so suddenly presented to his view,
as if it had been the head of Medusa, and had
turned him to stone. But he was too used to the
changes of his stirring time for surprise to last.
His brow darkened, and his mouth contracted with
a fierce expression of rage,
" Wherais the prisoner?" demanded he, in a
tone scarcely audible.
" Far beyond the power of his enemies," re-
plied Francesca.
" You contrived his escape, and remained in
his place ; you are therefore, doubtless, ready to
meet the penalty which awaited him. I give you
five minutes to prepare for death ! " and, turning
away, he began to pace the chamber with rapid
steps.
Francesca felt, as who but must, the blood
recede from her heart ; but her self-possession
deserted her not.
" Why," thought she, " should I care to die?
Who do I leave behind to regret me? Life is my
only link with life. Isolated and wretched, why
should I care how early that is snapped ? Guido,
we shall meet sooner than we deemed!" and,
leaning on the back of the chair, she hid her eyes
with her hand, and strove to fix her thoughts on a
far and other world .
60 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
The republican officer had expected a burst of
womanish terror, and had nerved himself in ad-
vance for passionate appeals ; but Francesca's quiet
submission and calm resolve at once surprised and
touched him. His words were but a threat, which,
to do him justice, he never dreamed of carrying
into effect ; but he had hoped, in -the agitation
and fear of the announcement, that he should be
able to gather such particulars of the prisoner's
escape and destination as might lead to his re-
capture. Her perfect beauty, her noble air, and
her stately composure, inspired him with a respect
and interest which influenced him unawares ; and
when he next spoke it was in a gentler tone.
" It must have been some strong motive which
induced you thus to peril your life, and to set at
nought the laws of the land in which you dwell.
But why do I say strong motive? There needs
but one for your weak and ill-judging sex the
fair face of the young cavalier, and perchance a
few honeyed words, soon throw aside all restraints
of duty, age, and of decency. Mr. Evelyn was
your lover?"
" Sir," said Francesca, raising her eyes, " the
meanest hind in yonder field is an object of as
much interest to me ; I had no motive but com-
passion ; and I do now deem myself justified in
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 61
aiding a fellow-creature to escape from a violent
and dreadful death."
" And so," exclaimed he, angrily, " for a
foolish, vain, and womanish fancy compassion,
as you call it you have let loose a firebrand on
this unhappy land, ana defrauded a vengeance as
just as ever exacted the fearful penalty of blood
for blood ! "
" I will but answer," replied Francesca, " in
the words of your own holy creed, s Vengeance
is mine, saith the Lord ; I will repay.' "
" Maiden," interrupted Major Johnstone, pale
with rage and a yet deeper feeling, " it is but a little
while ago, according to ordinary reckonings but
a miserable eternity to the miserable that I dwelt,
a man of peace, in a happy home happy in con-
tent and affection. In one night tha't house was
burnt to the ground ground reddened with the
blood of those nearest and dearest to me. I was
left without one kindred tie on earth ; and stood
next morning beside the blackened heap which
had been my happy, happy house, with but one
thought of the future in my heart. Maiden, that
was vengeance ! "
Francesca could not speak, but her eyes fully
showed the intense sympathy the story had
awakened.
62 FBANCESCA CARRARA.
"That ruin that work of death was the
act of a midnight revel, the deed of those who
sat at my hoard, and who deemed it only too
great an honour for the scorned Puritan to perish
by their hands. Your young cavalier was the
foremost of those brawlers? One dear to me as
a son fell by his sword. Others of that merciless
band have fallen before me one by one, but he has
eluded my pursuit. God delivered him unto my
wrath, and lo! the vain foolishness of a woman
has again deferred that righteous judgment which
I feel written in my inmost soul it is given unto
me to execute ! "
"Alas!" exclaimed Francesca; " I do not
plead to excuse the cruel injuries to which an un-
natural warfare has led ; but, for your own sake,
be merciful ; the heart knows no peace like for-
giveness."
" What know you of forgiveness?" interrupted
the other. " What injuries have you had to
pardon ? Have you stood amid the dead and the
dying, those for whom you would have poured
forth your heart's best blood?"
" There are other sorrows than those which
are the heritage of the sword other injuries than
those wrought by the red right hand ; and life is
more easily parted with than happiness."
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 63
" And of that," exclaimed the other, drawing
the inference more rapidly than Francesca had
anticipated, " yonder truant malignant has de-
prived you ? "
" Nay !" replied she, for her pride revolted at
the conclusion to which her own inadvertent words
had led. " Mr. Evelyn has over me no influence
now/' added she, in a faltering voice; for, however
painful or humiliating, Francesca was too little
accustomed to falsehood to take refuge in its mean-
ness. But their conversation was interrupted by
a sudden noise in the gallery. The door was
thrown hurriedly open, and Evelyn was again
brought in a prisoner.
64
CHAPTER IX.
" Who
May well be said to represent his brother,
For when you see the one, you know the other."
LEIGH HUNT.
THE moment Major Johnstone's eye fell upon the
prisoner, it kindled with a fierce and terrible joy,
like that of a wild beast about to spring upon the
prey devoted alike by rage and hunger. A deadly
whiteness spread round his mouth, rendering still
deeper the blackness of his brow. No man could
meet its dark, unrelenting frown, and not feel that,
if there rested his doom, it was indeed sealed for
ever. For a moment Evelyn quailed before that
fearful gaze; and yet his emotion was not fear,
but as if some painful memory was suddenly
awakened a memory to be dismissed as soon
as 'possible ; or, if not forgotten, at least to be
braved. On his entrance into the room, the sol-
diers had released* his arms, though they stood
with their stern impenetrable faces, too harsh for
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 65
any expression, fixed upon him in mechanical
watchfulness of any attempt at an escape.
Francesca leant, pale and breathless, against
the chair, looking on the scene before her with
that fascinated gaze which marks the progress of
the dreaded evil it has become utterly hopeless
to avert. The two enemies confronted each other,
Johnston e's rigid features working with a slight
convulsion, and his large grey eyes gleaming with
that lurid light ever associated with insanity;
and assuredly with him the incessant dwelling on
one thought had had its usual effect of unsettling
the mind which undergoes that perilous trial.
Vengeance had been the sole object of his exist-
ence; it was now about to be gratified and the
emotion of such a joy is awful as death. The
young cavalier looked the most indifferent of
the two ; his arms were folded, as if the attitude
were only studied on account of its grace ; the eye
wandered carelessly round ; and a scornful, or
what is best expressed by the common word auda-
cious, smile curved his lip. The republican officer
felt his anger goaded by the insolence of his care-
less adversary. This time there was no recom-
mendation to think of that God into whose pre-
sence the prisoner was so soon about to enter.
His lip trembled, a slight .spasm distorted his
66 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
mouth; and even the trained and hardened sol-
diers started at the hollow and unnatural voice in
which their commander gave his orders.
" Habakkuk, go you first, and marshal a file
of our picked carbines ; you," said he, turning to
the others, " follow me, with the prisoner."
No woman could stand by and hear such an
order given without an attempt at supplication,
however vain. Francesca sprang forward, and,
throwing herself at Johnstone's feet, implored him
to shew mercy. He raised her with the iron grasp
of a giant, as strong and as pitiless.
" Madam, this is no scene for a female," was
his only reply.
Francesca's appearance seemed to move Evelyn.
He stood as if struggling with his feelings ; at last
his resolution was taken, and, stepping forward,
he addressed Major Johnstone.
" I believe, sir, even the tyrannical authority
now so unjustly exerted would scarcely condemn
a gentleman of birth and honour to die without a
few minutes' preparation. I ask but some brief
words with yonder lady; and they are for her
sake, not my own."
" Speak!" said the officer.
" Only for her ear," resumed Evelyn.
" And so plan another escape, through some
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 67
of the cursed passages with which this relic of
popery abounds ? "
" I give you my honour."
" Trash!" exclaimed Johnstone, his black brow
growing yet blacker with rage at the delay. " Be-
hold yonder window lead the lady thitl^er ; I can
there see, though I hear you not. So courtly a
gallant as yourself knows how to whisper."
" Doubtless,-" said Evelyn, acknowledging the
compliment by bowing low; and, advancing to
Francesca, he led her towards the window. Pre-
cious as the time was, he nevertheless hesitated
when the gloomy shadow ^of Major Johnstone fell
between the two.
" I give you but ten minutes, and four are
gone;" and again he withdrew out of ear-shot.
" Yes, I must speak; and though I do not
cannot hope for your forgiveness, I must tell you,
Francesca, how cruelly you have been deceived.
I cannot die with a lie on my soul ; but I am not
he whom you take me for."
Francesca gazed into his face. She thought
the shock of his situation had bewildered his rea-
son ; but he met her look calmly firmly, and
continued :
" It was my brother that you met in Italy ;
our likeness is so great, that apart we are often mis-
68 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
taken the one for the other. I heard him speak of
you, though our meeting in France was the effect
of chance. Thither he followed you, saw you talk-
ing to me at the theatre, and believed that I had
supplanted him. Reproach was alien to his ge-
nerous t^nperament ; he cornmended you to my
dear love, and left Paris."
Francis Evelyn paused, for though he expected
agitation, he was not prepared for- the shock which
his words inflicted. Francesca sank senseless at
his feet. The noise of her fall called the attention
of the others. Alive to every chance of escape,
fearing to see his prisoner vanish through some
concealed door, Major Johnstone rushed forward.
On observing the state of Francesca, a gleam of
commiseration passed over his severe aspect; he
aided Francis to raise her, and, beckoning one of
the soldiers, gave her into his arms, and bade him
carry the still insensible girl to the family. The
man obeyed, and, with a kindliness which indi-
cated a gentler nature than his rugged look pro-
mised, bore her carefully as a child from the
chamber.
" Are you ready, sir?" said Major Johnstone.
" Not yet ! not yet! " exclaimed Evelyn, with
an appearance of agitation, which he strove in vain
to suppress. " I ask but a very, very brief delay ;
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 69
but I have done a grievous wrong to yonder noble
creature, and to one worthy as herself I must
repair it. You know my brother ? "
" I do ; and marvel how he can be brother of
thine."
The rebuke passed unnoticed, and Francis
hurriedly continued :
" I ask but to write a few lines to him. I shall
place it unsealed in your hands, so that you need
fear no treason ; though I trust that even a Round-
head may have honour enough not to read it ; and
to that honour I must trust for its delivery."
" I reck not," replied his companion, " that
worldly and vain honour which you set up as an
idol, and worship beyond your God ; but for
Robert Evelyn's own sake, that letter shall reach
his hands in safety."
Writing materials were soon brought, and
Evelyn commenced his epistle : it ran thus
" DEAR ROBERT,
" Caught at last, and by those rascally Round-
heads, whom you call patriots and saints, in a
few minutes more I shall be shot that is, if their
clumsy carbines take good aim to be sure they
can fire near enough their mark not to miss. But
I write to tell you what you will hear through
70 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
all the various channels by which news travels,
Francesca Carrara is in England, residing under
the roof of Lawrence Aylmer ! Ah, dear Robert,
let me commend Lucy Aylmer to your care the
only woman I ever loved, even, save that I have
not your nobler nature, as you loved Francesca.
I duped both yourself and that young and ge-
nerous Italian, who has just risked her life for
mine. I passed myself upon her for you, and till
this moment she has never been undeceived. But
one who was attached to you must have found
that I was an unworthy likeness; she felt the
change, though she knew it not ; and mark these
words, I was scorned and rejected, and anger
kept me from undeceiving you. But death brings
awful, and some kindly thoughts. Never did your
true and strong affection rise up so vividly so
tenderly to my thoughts. I may have lived, but I
will not die, quite undeserving of it. God bless you
and Francesca! you deserve each other. I hear
Major Johnstone walking quicker and quicker.
How heavily he steps ! Good by !
" Yours till death,
(not very long, by the by),
" FRANCIS EVELYN."
FRANCESCA CARRARA. . 71
The captive cavalier calmly folded the scroll,
rose up, and, presenting it to Johnstone, said,
" Now, sir, I am at your service. I believe my
birth entitles me to precedence ; " and he left the
apartment first.
72
CHAPTER X.
" Let me die,
At least, with an unshackled eye."
BYRON.
THE fresh air of the open windows, as they
came to the inhabited part of the house, revived
Francesca, though, when the soldier, who had
found his way to the kitchen, gave her to the care
of the astonished Aylmer himself, she was still too
dizzy and too confused to be conscious of her situa-
tion. Lawrence gave her a glass of water, and,
restored in some degree, she silently accepted his
aid to reach their usual room. On their entrance,
Aylmer was greeted by a new surprise his daugh-
ter Lucy, whom he very naturally supposed was
quietly in her bed, lay on the window-seat, the
casement open, and herself asleep ; but the traces
of tears were upon her cheek, and her long fair
hair loose, and yet saturated with the dews of the
night.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 73
" For God's sake, let her sleep at any hazard !"
whispered Francesca, now fully recalled to all
that had passed and was passing. " Another
time for explanation. Poor, poor Lucy!" added
she, as her mind reverted to the terrible awaken-
ing before her.
" I must go," rejoined Aylmer, " and keep
some sort of order ; for my house is turned inside
out." Then, gazing earnestly at Lucy, he said in
a low tone, " I will not dare not, ask what this
means now; my dear, my beautiful child !" but
his voice failed, and he hurried from the chamber.
" Any thing rather than this torturing sus-
pense!" cried Francesca, who had been standing
with her face buried in her hands. " I can look
into the yard from Lucy's bed-room pray God
that she may not awake ! "
With that dizzy yet desperate feeling which
braces even to the last the over-wrought nerves,
Francesca cast one more glance on the uncon*
scious sleeper, whose bright hair and flushed cheek
were golden and rosy as the morning now break-
ing around her; but Lucy was too thoroughly
exhausted to awaken. There she lay, her head
pillowed upon her arm, like a child that had cried
itself to rest; while Francesca bent over her,
pale, cold as a statue, for lip and cheek were
VOL. in. E
74 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
both white only the blue veins were swollen on
the forehead, and the large closed eyes wore a
strange expression, most unlike their usual intel-
lectual darkness. With a light yet hurried step,
she went up stairs, and approached the lattice.
At first she could not force herself to look out;
but the agony of endurance grew insupportable,
and she leant forth. Her worst fears were not
realised ; but there was enough to alarm her in
the unusual aspect of the place. It was now about
six o'clock, and that first freshness was on the air,
which is to the day what youth is to life, so
light, so elastic, so sweet, and so brief; the roofs
of the thatched buildings glittered with the mois-
ture rapidly drying up ; the fragrant breath of the
cows, the long lingering odour from the hay-ricks,
were so perceptible on the clear atmosphere ; long
shadows came down from the house and the trees,
but they only made more visible the golden trans-
parency of the sunshine.
" O God !" cried Francesca, " this contrast of
the glad external world is dreadful to that within !"
The farm-yard, though morning was upon it,
shewed none of its usual morning activity ; the
hinds stood staring and bewildered in knots of
some two or three, who appeared as though they
sought to draw nigh to each other for protection,
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 75
not companionship, and cast half-sullen, half-scared
looks at the intruders on their own domain. The
soldiers were scattered ahout, some talking to
each other with the most careless indifference,
others collected round a gaunt-looking sergeant,
who was reading from a small Bible, and whose
nasal accents were audible, though Francesca could
not catch the words. A small body of dismounted
troopers were lounging near the gate, waiting for
their leader's call to boot and saddle ; but there
was one party that riveted her eye six men, of
grave and determined bearing, who stood apart,
leaning upon their carbines. The domestic fowls
alone seemed undisturbed by the unusual visitors,
unless a more than ordinary noise of chirping
and fluttering marked something of fear; but
the large house-dog could not be quieted, and
kept up that savage bark arid growl which indi-
cated its consciousness of intrusion and danger.
Suddenly all eyes turned in one direction, and
Major Johnstone came from the house, followed
by the prisoner and four soldiers. Francis stepped
lightly forward, and flung round a glance of the
most careless contempt ; and as he passed below
the window, Francesca could hear him humming
the notes of a popular loyalist song peculiarly
obnoxious to the rigid fanatics. The insult
76 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
caused many a dark brow to turn scowling upon
him ; but he paid them back glance for glance,
and met every frown with a smile. He reached
the appointed place; and, at a sign from Major
Johnstone, one of the troopers drew out a hand-
kerchief, and attempted to bind his eyes. The
prisoner flung him off with a force scarcely to be
expected from one of his slight figure, and, turn-
ing quickly, said, " Let me die like a man !
whatever is my death, let me face it ! " No further
effort was made to blindfold him ; but the car-
bineers formed their deadly rank, looking, how-
ever, towards their commander for the signal.
" I will myself give the word !" cried Evelyn.
" When I take off my hat, fire !"
Francesca had hitherto looked on with that
sort of charmed gaze with which the fascinated
bird watches the gray and glittering eye of the
serpent which forces it to its doom ; but womanly
terror now mastering strong excitement, she knelt
down, and, hiding her face in her hands, mut-
tered incoherent ejaculations of prayer.
Major Johnstone had, by a stern gesture of
assent, marked his permission for the prisoner to
give his own death signal ; and Francis, after a
leisurely survey, expressive of the utmost con-
tumely of the iron faces that darkened round him,
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 77
raised his hand to his head ; every carbine was
raised, too, in preparation ; and the sudden rise of
the steel tubes flashed like some strange meteor in
the sun.
" God save King Charles ! " exclaimed the
reckless cavalier, and flung his white plumed hat
in the air.
A loud burst of musketry rang far away into
the distant forest; many echoes took it up, and
repeated the mimic thunder ; a strange screaming
rose from the startled birds ; but loud above them
all was heard the shriek of a woman.
Lucy, rousing from her sleep, as the morning
light fell upon her face, had sought her own
chamber; she had entered unperceived by Fran-
cesca, who was kneeling in that last horror of
having to look on a violent death. Approach-
ing her friend, she was startled by the report of
the carbines scarcely aware of her own act, she
had looked from the lattice, and saw Major John-
stone standing in the cold triumph of gratified
revenge beside the body of a cavalier, whose life-
blood was welling in a crimson flood to his feet.
At a glance Lucy recognised Francis Evelyn.
78
CHAPTER XL
" Even beauty's shadow lies
Like darkness on the earth."
J. K. HERVEY.
FOR weeks it seemed as if the fearful tragedy
acted at their very threshold had left a gloom not
to be dispelled on the whole party. Night and
day the appalling death-note of the carbine rang
in their ears ; and one event, and one individual,
was the sole topic of discourse. Still Francesca
could feel horror only, not grief; and there
were now hope and happiness at her heart, long
strangers to its haunted circle. She had indeed
been true to herself, and to her first and only
love; the image of Robert Evelyn might again
be the one cherished thought, the one perpetual
dream of her solitude. It was like returning to
her native country returning to that dear and
early vision. Again life wore the beauty of pro-
mise the deep and sweet well of sympathy, so
long dried up, flowed again. The first time that
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 79
she passed along the fields and entered the dim
glades of the forest, she felt what a new life had
awakened within her. She no longer turned a
cold and dispirited gaze on the objects around
she could enter into and rejoice in all natural
loveliness. The magnificent autumn, the royal
spendthrift of the year, was now wearing that
proud regality so soon to depart into darkness and
decay ; and this it is, despite its purple and crim-
son, which laugh the glories of Tyre to scorn, that
renders autumn the most melancholy of the seasons
the others have a further-looking hope. Winter
softens into spring, spring blushes into summer,
and summer ripens into autumn, all going on
into increased good. But autumn darkens into
winter, and is the only quarter that ends as the
destroyed and the desolate. There is in autumn
no hope, that prophetic beautifier of the foregone
year. But just now, the glorious conqueror of
wood and field was in the first flush of its radiant
hours; every object shone out transparent in the
clear blue air of the bright brief noon. If the
hedges had lost the may and the honeysuckle,
the scarlet berries of the hip and the haw shone
like carved coral the rich orchard of the birds ;
the slender bindweed wound about with its pale
and delicate flowers so delicate, yet so deadly;
80 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
and one or two late flowers yet put forth their wan
blossoms, pining as if gentle exiles of the spring,
and yet very, very lovely. The noisy cheerfulness
of rural occupation was over the grass was mown,
the corn reaped, the fruit gathered ; and the loudest
sound in the lonely fields was when, adventuring
too near some late brood, the partridge sought
to deceive by a plaintive cry and seeming help-
lessness, crossing before your very feet, till, when
drawn to a sufficient distance, suddenly the air
vibrated to the flutter of her active pinions. Or
sometimes, passing too near a sequestered copse,
the shy tenants were startled, and the superb plu-
mage of the pheasant dashed aside the branches,
and the stately bird soared up on rattling wing.
But if autumn wear the insignia of nature's
royalty, its purple and gold, in only the shaded
lane or the green field with its one or two old
trees, what is its more than eastern pomp in a
wooded empire like the New Forest ! The stal-
wart oaks yet retained their dark green foliage,
and the yews and firs stood unchanged ; all others
bore the signs of that evanescent splendour, very
type of all our earthly glories. The leaves now wore
the colours which had been worn by the flowers
richer, perhaps, but wanting the tender bloom of
the spring. Here the lime was clothed with a
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 81
pale yellow, contrasted by the sycamore's glowing
crimson; the elm shewed a rich brown, mixed
with dusky orange ; the hawthorns were covered
with red berries, relieved by the long wreaths of the
drooping ivy. Thickets of hazel-nuts clattered as
the squirrels sprang from spray to spray in search
of their winter store ;" and. the sloe was thickly
hung with its dim purple fruit. The furze was
dry and reddening, and only in one or two shel-
tered nooks did a late blossom hang from the
withering heath.
There is something peculiarly mournful in
the sound of the autumn wind. It has none of
the fierce mirth which belongs to that of March,
calling aloud, as with the voice of a trumpet, on
all earth to rejoice ; neither has it the mild rainy
melody of summer, when the lily has given its
softness and the rose its sweetness to the gentle
tones. Still less has it the dreary moan, the cry
as of one in pain, which is borne on a November
blast ; but it has a music of its own sad, low, and
plaintive, like the last echoes of a forsaken lute
a voice of weeping, but tender and subdued, like
the pleasant tears shed over some woful romance
of the olden time, telling some mournful chance
of the young knight falling in his first battle, or of
a maiden pale and perishing with ill-requited love.
E2
82 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
Onward passes that complaining wind through
the quiet glades, like the angel of death mourning
over the beauty it is commissioned to destroy. At
every sweep down falls a shower of sapless leaves
ghosts of the spring with a dry, sorrowful rustle ;
and every day the eye misses some bright coloui
of yesterday, or marks some bough left entirely
bare and sear ; and ever and anon, on some top-
most branch, as the foliage is quite swept off, a
deserted nest is visible love, spring, and music,
passed away together.
But the heart is its own world, and the out-
ward influence takes its tone from that within.
With how much lighter a step, with how much
brighter an eye, did Francesca wander through
the forest, even in the last desolation of autumn,
than she did in all the bloom and buoyancy of
spring! Not all the natural horror and pity,
deeply and keenly felt at Francis's awful death,
could disturb the sweet and secret satisfaction now
garnered up in her inmost thoughts. All old
belief in the good, the beautiful, and the true,
revived within her. Doubt, that most oppressive
atmosphere upon the moral existence, rolled away
like a vapour from the future; once more she
could hope and trust she felt happy enough for
forgiveness. It had not been human had she not
FRANCESCA CAREARA. 83
sometimes bitterly contrasted her present state with
what might have been its lot but for the cruel
deception of Francis ; but she was strong in her
newly awakened reliance she could look forward
the future owed her some recompense for the
wretchedness of the past. The first time when she
gave herself up to that aerial architecture, after the
events we have just recorded, was her ensuing visit
to Guido's grave. The sympathy was still entire
between them, and it seemed as if her happiness
were incomplete till shared with him ; and beside
that green and quiet mound his presence was so
actual ! Perhaps the stillness and seclusion aided
the imagination nothing was there to disturb or
destroy the illusion. She threaded the narrow
paths of the forest in the pleasant company of her
own thoughts those paths through which Evelyn
had so often wandered. Frequently before had
this idea risen in her mind, but then it was sternly
banished now she dwelt upon it with eager de-
light. With what a feeling of joyful security did
her heart go back to its old allegiance ! Till now
she had scarcely been aware of its strength, for
she had known it but by its disappointment now
she fully admitted that early and passionate emo-
tion with which Robert Evelyn had inspired her
was indeed her destiny ; both in the first develope-
84 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
ment of her affection, in the endeavour to make
herself worthy of him, and in the mental strength
acquired by the after-struggle with that very affec-
tion, when it seemed but as an unworthy weakness
which needed to be subdued. His influence, and
its consequences, had still been paramount its
good and its evil had formed her whole character.
A high and generous nature is always trustful.
Francesca never for a moment feared Evelyn's
constancy; that a knowledge of the deception
practised would instantly bring him to her side,
it never occurred to her to doubt ; and in her full
gratitude to fate, she relied upon their meeting
again. She started and the delicious reverie in
which she had been indulging was broken as she
approached the grave of her brother. Another
and a new-made one was beside it there reposed
the mortal remains of Francis Evelyn. Pale and
faint, she took her usual seat on the sod which
covered Guido's lowly pillow ; but her eye and
her thoughts fixed on its neighbour.
There is nothing more dreary than a new-made
grave so bare, so desolate, so comfortless, with
the cold stones, and damp gravel scattered all
carelessly round. After a little while the long
grass and the sweet wild flowers sanctify the
place even as, in the human heart, gentle me-
FRANCESCA CAERARA. 85
mories and subduing time throw a kindly soothing
over the first bitter and rigid suffering. " It shall
not long be left thus dreary," thought Francesca,
and turned aside her face, but in vain ; she could
think of nothing but the murdered cavalier for
murdered he was in her eyes whose coffin was
hidden but by a little heap of recklessly flung
earth. Again and again she recurred to the scene
of his execution, whose horror was heightened
by the familiar circumstances with which it was
attended. The customary scaffold has its own
awe justice and obedience and usage surround
the place ; but to die a violent death, and by the
hand of man, amid life's daily scenes, all associa-
tions so domestic and so ordinary, aggravates the
ghastly spectacle, and makes the doom seem at
once cruel ai^undeserved.
Francesca had never sufficiently commanded
herself to pass through the farm-yard since Evelyn's
death ; but the sudden sight of the newly dug grave
recalled every occurrence of that dreadful morn-
ing. She thought of his daring demeanour of
the fearlessness with which he met his fate of his
youth, and the promise which life held out to him.
Young, high-born, handsome, rich, and brave
all these advantages were in one moment less
than nothing. She fruitlessly struggled with the
86 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
recollection that his evil had been her good that
but for the serious thoughts which throng before
as the heralds of death, he might never have
avowed the deception which he had practised
and never, on this side the grave, would she and
Robert Evelyn have known how dearly and truly
each loved the other. But this idea brought with
it a chill and vague terror. Was happiness, then,
surrounded by loss and sacrifice? was destiny to
be propitiated but by a human victim? An un-
fathomable dread seemed to steal gradually over
her spirits only mournful images arose within
her mind. Henriette, Guido, perishing in their
good and beautiful youth! Francis Evelyn cut
off with she dared not think how many unre-
pented faults ! What was there in her that her
fate should be better than theirs? In vain she
strove to shake off her depression she felt but
the more subdued. The large tears fell like dew
on the slender stalks of the wild flowers below
alas! were they omens?
87
CHAPTER XII.
" Still the rose is fanned
With life and love's sweet hues."
CROLY.
IN the meantime how did Lucy bear the horror of
Evelyn's death? with an abandonment to despair
it was heart-rending to witness. Fortunately her
health was delicate we say fortunately, for the
mind must have yielded, had not the body sunk
under the pressure of this first great sorrow. In
Lucy's brief and quiet career, crime and anguish
had as yet been but words ; sad and gentle regrets
might have flung a moment's lightest shadow on
her path, but she had known no real suffering,
and its first experience was a shock which left her
scarcely the power of feeling.
It is an old saying (and most old sayings are
singularly true we are not so very much wiser
than our ancestors, after all), that the most violent
grief is the soonest over ; yes, if this violence rather
88 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
alludes to the expression than to the emotion.
Words and tears exhaust themselves and cer-
tainly Lucy indulged amply in both. She was
one of those timid and dependent tempers to whom
weeping is natural; in all emergences, great or
small, her resource, if not remedy, was to cry.
To such a one, sympathy is the first relief con-
fession half transferred the responsibility of the
thoughts confessed to the hearer; and the extent
of her regret was unconsciously measured by what
she was expected to feel. Bodily fatigue soon
follows upon the burst of sobs and the passionate
exclamation ; rest must follow, and the repose
soon becomes physical as well as mental. Despair
is unnatural ; and the powers of Time, the com-
forter, can scarcely be exaggerated ; but the agency
by which he works is exhaustion.
There is a grief which may darken a whole
life, shut up the heart from every influence but
its own, remain unchanged through every change
of various fortune, flinging its own shadow over
all that is fair, its own bitterness into all that is
sweet ; but that grief is the silent and the secret
it goes abroad with a smooth brow and a smiling
lip it knows not the relief of tears, and words
it disdains. None have fathomed its depths, for
its existence is denied ; pride is mingled with its
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
strength, for the hidden soul knows there is that
within which parts it from its kind, and perhaps
triumphs even in such agonising consciousness.
With such the spirits often seem buoyant without
a cause often too gay for the occasion. The truth
is, that society is to them as a theatre ; and what
actor is there who does not occasionally over-act his
part? Few ever penetrate their dark and weary
seclusion, for few ever look beyond the surface,
unless actuated by some hope, fear, or love of their
own, and then their feelings blind their judgment.
Such motives turn all objects into mirrors, which
reflect some likeness, even if distorted, of them-
selves. We conjecture, question, desire, anticipate
do every thing but observe. And slight, indeed,
are the tokens by which the seared heart betrays
itself. But it has its signs ; there is that real dis-
regard of the pleasures in which it shares, half as a
disguise, half to avoid the trouble of importunity.
But the eye, however trained to attention, will
wander; the set smile becomes absent weariness
is pleaded as an excuse and lassitude serves as
the cloak to indifference. Moreover, though al-
most unconsciously, the words have a biting and
shrewd turn the opinions are either harsh or
given with undue levity contradiction is almost
90 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
habitual and the feelings, denied the resource
sympathy, take refuge in sarcasm.
But Lucy's was too yielding and tearful a na-
ture for this strong endurance and hidden suffering.
She was like those fragile creepers which, flung
off from the protection of one branch, cling intui-
tively to the next. Her love for Francis Evelyn
was an emanation of that romance which is in the
heart of every girl ; her preference was as much
circumstance as choice, and strengthened by no
comparison. It was the natural consequence of
solitude, and the belief in the necessity of having a
lover, which flutters round the very youthful fancy ;
and Francis was the only young and handsome
cavalier who happened to have been thrown in her
way. And perhaps the attachment owed half its
power to its concealment and to its silence. Had
she married him, she would have been very miser-
able her beauty would inevitably have lost, in his
eyes, its charm with its novelty ; and then all her
real deficiencies would have been suddenly disco-
vered, besides many which would only have existed
in his own fancy. Nothing could have given her
the tact, the presence of mind, the quick percep-
tion, the self-control necessary to success in so-
ciety; and her sweetness and gentleness would
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 91
have been like a faint fragrance too delicate for
the overpowering atmosphere on which it was
fated to waste its fragile existence. With his
active and intriguing temper, Francis would doubt-
less have taken an eager part in the court cabals
and conspiracies which make the history of Charles
the Second; and how useless in such would he
have found Lucy ! Neglect would have been her
inevitable portion, and to her that would have
been worse than death perhaps death itself.
There is a flower which our earth is too rude
to nourish, and whose sole existence is in the clear
pure atmosphere; such a flower is Lucy's best
emblem. The harsher duties and cares of this
weary world were not for her her natural ele-
ment was affection. For days and nights Fran-
cesca watched beside her pillow, and patiently
soothed the sorrowful invalid. Both had much
to say for the nurse had her own course of dis-
cipline to pursue with her patient. From the
beginning she recounted her own history ; and the
effect was what she anticipated indignation be-
came Lucy's strongest sensation ; she could not
comprehend such duplicity, and she even exag-
gerated its cruelty and its wrong. There was also
a little feminine vanity a quick sense of injury
92 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
which was wonderfully beneficial. Francesca just
suggested the idea, which was eagerly caught and
tenaciously retained namely, Francis's infidelity
to herself. What ! could he go away, leaving her
to a solitude wholly occupied with his image, and
yet have his heart sufficiently vacant to admit
even light and passing fancies, beside the serious
vow and faith offered to another! Lucy angrily
disclaimed aught beyond pity for the memory of
the treacherous cavalier; but said that, for his
sake, she should hate the very name of love.
Francesca thought this rather a rash assertion,
as, indeed, such disclaimers usually are.
Winter was now setting in, and our Italian,
with all the early associations of a southern clime,
trembled before its gloomy influence, and feared
lest she should see Lucy's spirits sink with the
monotony of its long evenings ; for she saw at once
that she had not mind enough to be attracted by
any abstract pursuit the selfishness was so quiet
and so kindly as to be almost imperceptible ; still
she could only be interested in something referring
to herself. She had no energy for application
in music she never got beyond a few simple airs
caught by ear ; and Italian, which she began to
learn, soon became equally wearisome to both
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 93
mistress and pupil for it is a wearisome task to
teach where there is little inclination and less
understanding.
But an unexpected auxiliary appeared on the
scene. We have before alluded to Charles Aubyn,
the young clergyman of their village. One visit
led to another, and soon every evening saw him a
privileged visitor in their apartment, to Lucy's in-
creasing pleasure, and Francesca's great relief.
The reason why so many fallacious opinions have
passed into proverbs is owing to that carelessness
which makes the individual instance the general
rule. Of all feelings, love is the most modified
by character; like the chameleon, it is indeed
coloured by the air which it breathes. To half
the world its depth is unknown, and its intensity
unfelt. To such the expression of its wild passion,
its fateful influence, its unalterable faith, are but
mysteries, or even mockeries; while, again, to
those who hold such true and fervent creed, the
heartless change, the utter forgetfulness, the sud-
den transfer of life's deepest and dearest emotion,
is equally absurd and incomprehensible.
Francesca could not at first believe her eyes
when she saw the tremulous rose mount into Lucy's
cheek at the sound of Charles Aubyn's approach.
Scarcely could she credit that the absence and
94 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
restlessness which her companion betrayed when
his daily visit was deferred could be felt on the
comparative stranger's account. But when she
saw them sit mutually contented by each other's
side for hours, Lucy's soft blue eyes only raised to
give one gentle smile, and then sink half agitation,
half timidity and when, finally, by some process
or other, Lucy usually contrived that, let their
discourse begin on what subject it might, it "regu-
larly ended with some reference to Mr. Aubyn
she was obliged to yield to conviction, and to
allow, what no romantic imagination likes to
admit, that there may be, nay, actually is, such
a thing as second love in the world ; and with a
pardonable, because natural, inconsistency, she
felt almost disappointed that Lucy had followed
her own advice, and forgotten one so unworthy
of her affection as Francis Evelyn. It took some
time to abate the poetry of her disappointment,
and to force from her the admission that Lucy
was much more likely to be happy with her pre-
sent lover for such he was now acknowledged
o
to be.
Charles Aubyn was one of those in whose
composition the heart has a larger share than the
head. With more talent, his native enthusiasm
would have been a powerful influence; but it lacked
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 95
that ability which, by strengthening the impulse,
gives it power over others. He felt keenly, but
he neither reflected nor calculated hence he lived
in a little world of exaggeration. With Lucy this
impetuosity served his cause it carried her along
with it ; but when enthusiasm of any kind is un-
shared, it appears only on its ridiculous side ; and
hence Francesca's good sense and good taste were
perpetually revolted by a thousand slight inco-
herences and absurdities utterly imperceptible to
her companion. Fortunately for Charles Aubyn,
he was placed in a situation for which he was
eminently calculated; his kind-heartedness was
constantly called into action by his duties among
his parishioners, and his excitable temperament
found vent in religious fervour; and in Lucy he
met with that up-looking admiration which, under
any circumstances, it is exceedingly comfortable
to inspire.
Lawrence Aylmer was one of the best-satis-
fied of the party. He much desired to see his
daughter married he felt that she was quite
unfitted for those in her own sphere had been
frightened into almost poetry when he learnt her
attachment to Evelyn, so many were the evil
consequences which he anticipated might have
happened from so dangerous a connexion; but
96 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
now he was more than contented he was de-
lighted and went to sleep every evening reckon-
ing up the various kinds of worldly substance
which he had amassed for her sake.
97
CHAPTER XIII.
" The tears of youth dry as quickly as the dews in summer ;
and the young heart rebounds from grief as quickly as the arrow
from the bow."
The Buccaneer.
TIME passed as time ever does when passed mo-
notonously, that is, with a degree of rapidity
which only astonishes us when it is recalled to
mind by some chance circumstance. Time should
be reckoned by events, not hours ; the heart is its
truest time-piece, at least as concerns ourselves.
Spring came, and found Francesca's situation un-
changed. Lord Avonleigh had been still retained
a prisoner in the Tower ; Robert Evelyn was still
in Ireland ; and hope, somewhat wearied by feed-
ing but " on its own sweet life," had taken a
deeper tone of anxiety. Lucy's marriage was only
waiting till the repairs were finished at the vicar-
age; and preparations occupied all her thoughts,
and most of her time. But a great change was
at hand. It would seem as if calm were necessary
VOL. III. F
98 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
to convulsion ; for the tranquillity of the last few
months was again to be disturbed by political com-
motion.
It matters little to the progress of this narra-
tive to trace how the reins of government fell,
rather than were taken, from the hands of the in-
competent Richard ; and how the dull caution
and straight-forward devotion to expediency of
George Monck replaced the Stuarts on the throne :
thus giving a nation the fairest opportunity that
was ever thrown away of adjusting ancient privi-
leges and existing rights, of limiting power, yet
preserving authority, and of realising those many
theories of liberty and justice which to this day
remain theories. But England at the period of the
Restoration was, like a child escaped from school,
weary of restraint, impatient for amusement, and
little inclined to balance the future against the
present. The whole island became one festival, to
welcome the return of the man whom they had
banished, and whose father they had executed.
Heaven knows, consistency ought^o be valued,
were it only for its rarity.
Lord Avonleigh was at once liberated from his
imprisonment, well prepared to be considered, and
to consider himself, a martyr to the cause of loyalty ;
and as the services of the rich nobleman, who
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 99
wants nothing, are more easily requited than those
of the real and poor sufferer, the attached and
needy exile, his claims to notice and favour were
most graciously acknowledged. Accordingly, he
returned to his seat in a little fever of royal de-
votedness it was the fashionable epidemic; and
who coming from Whitehall could be without it ?
Bells ringing, flags waving, may-poles so
long unseen bonfires in due preparation for night,
morris-dancers, who had practised for the last
four-and-twenty hours unremittingly to refresh
their ancient craft, an ox roasted whole, cakes,
ale, crowds, and confusion, all assembled in and
about Avonleigh Park, to greet the master's re-
turn. A procession was arranged, and perhaps
Francesca was the only individual in the whole
country that did not go forth to join either actors
or spectators. Lucy, full of girlish delight,
eagerly pressed her to accompany her and Charles
Aubyn to the park; but she refused. She felt
that her place was not among her father's de-
pendants ; some chance might bring them in con-
tact, and to her it would only be with a sense of
degradation. Perhaps, too, an aversion to what
had fallen under her own observation of the kind
of amusement likely to be found, or contempt,
which called itself distaste, strengthened her reso-
100 FBANCESCA CARRARA.
lution not a little. Still, when the care of watch-
ing Lucy's toilette, advising and altering, was
completed no sinecure office, for Lucy, hitherto
confined to the most quiet and staid costume, was
rather inclined to run into the extreme of bright
colours when she had watched her walk down
the field with Charles Aubyn, looking as pretty
and as pleased as possible, and returned into their
deserted chamber, its silence and solitude struck
her forcibly. The gay peal of the bells came upon
the air, mingled with music, which owed much of
its melody to being afar off. She could observe flags
waving in the distance, and now and then a gaily
dressed group crossing one of the heights ; but
these were soon past. And as the view of their
house was chiefly bounded by the forest, there was
soon nothing to be seen nothing, save the ring-
ing bells, recalled the festivity to her mind.
Francesca was alone, quite alone in the house,
and the consciousness of this was inexpressibly
dreary ; not perhaps but that on any other day
she would have sat, read, and thought by herself
quite as much as she had done to-day ; still, the
knowledge that there was no one near that all
others but herself were employed in one peculiar
and cheerful pursuit, could not but force her into
a vein of ungracious comparison. The extreme
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 101
stillness of every thing around jarred upon her
nerves, instead of soothing them. She would have
given the world for some one to speak to ; she
opened a book, but she could not keep her atten-
tion to the page ; she touched her lute, but its
music was distasteful ; she went into the garden,
but it wearied her to pace up and down the well-
known walks, " I know every plant by heart,"
thought she, and returned listlessly to the house.
Then the ringing of the bells in the distance be-
came so irritating they kept perpetually dis-
tracting her mind. At length the peals ceased
dinner attracted even the ringers and the still-
ness was now unbroken. But the one painful idea
which had taken possession of Francesca's ima-
gination haunted her.
" Alas!" murmured the lonely girl, " others
have kindred and friends, with whom gaiety be-
comes indeed pleasure, for it is shared. Many a
happy circle will gather together to-day, exchange
hopes, and lay up recollections for months to come.
But I, how neglected how isolated do I feel !
not one living being at this moment of mutual
gratulations even thinks of my existence ; no one
knows or cares that I am sitting in melancholy
seclusion, while all but myself are glad around.
102 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
What have I done to be so shut out from human
affection and sympathy?"
Almost for the first time since his brother's
disclosure, she found no comfort in thinking of
Evelyn. Never had the chances of their re-union
seemed so precarious ; never before had she felt so
hopeless. Unfortunate as she had hitherto been,
how could she believe that destiny would yet
relent ? She unlocked the casket which contained
her mother's picture, and gazed even more earnestly
than usual on that beautiful face ; its frank, glad
smile was too painful ; it seemed an omen of all
that could make a joyous and beloved existence ;
and yet how had her's terminated ! The memory
of what others have suffered makes us tremble for
ourselves. Her peculiar course had never seemed
so difficult as it did now, on the very verge of its
termination. What would be her father's recep-
tion ? Perhaps, all old love forgotten, he would
look upon her but as an intruder from an unwel-
come past, recalling all he wished to forget all
that he had forgotten. Could she bear to wring
from him a cold acknowledgment, dictated but by
justice ! And yet affection, could it spring up at a
moment's warning ! How could he love a stranger
who for attraction brought before him the remem-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 103
brance of all the faults and the follies of his
youth !
Francesca rose and paced the room in an
agony of doubt. The more she thought of her
situation, the more she saw the necessity of ad-
vancing her claims. Lucy would soon be married,
and then Lawrence Aylmer's could be no home for
her ; and her cheek burnt with sudden fire at the
thought, that in a little while the slender remains
of the money they had brought from Italy would
be exhausted. She knew how helpless then would
be her condition young, a female, a stranger,
without acquaintance or introduction, what could
she do? The idea that she would not seek her
father, which had sprung up in the despondency of
the moment, faded away. However painful, the
task must be accomplished.
She was awakened from her gloomy reverie by
the beating of a sudden shower against the lattice ;
some books lay on the window-seat, and she went
to shut the open casement. She stood looking
out, involuntarily attracted by the beauty of the
scene. The sunshine glittered through the dia-
mond shower, which came like a flight of radiant
arrows ; while, outlined on a dim purple cloud,
a magnificent rainbow spanned the mighty forest ;
instantly a second, but fainter, spread beneath the
104 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
first; but even while she looked, the vast cloud
dispersed, broken fragments of delicious hues
coloured the atmosphere, a soft violet faded into
pale primrose, and touches of rose deepened into
red. Gradually the sky cleared into one deep
blue, over which a mass of white clouds, broken
into a thousand fantastic shapes, went sailing
slowly by.
The freshness of the fragrant hour was irresist-
ible, and Francesca again sought the garden ; but
now the influence of the lovely day was upon her,
and her step unconsciously grew lighter. Grass,
leaf, and flower caught new life from the genial
rain ; a thousand odours unperceived before were
abroad ; a thousand colours bright with the noon
now shone out upon the green or painted foliage ;
every breath was aromatic, and not a spray but
mirrored a sunbeam in the hanging rain-drop.
Francesca gazed around, and hope and reliance
arose within her. She looked up touchingly and
gratefully to heaven, while her Jate discontent
seemed almost as a sin in her own eyes.
105
CHAPTER XIV.
4< It speaks of former scenes of days gone by
Of early friendships of the loved and lost ;
And wakes such music in the heart, as sigh
Of evening woos from harp-strings gently crost."
MALCOLM.
IT was late in the evening before Lucy came home,
in the gayest possible spirits ; she had been equally
amused and admired, and now returned in a little
flutter of pleasure and vanity. She had a great deal
to say, but very little to tell ; and repeated over
and over again, that Lord Avonleigh had spoken
something so kind about her to her father, though
she could not remember the exact words; and
that Lord Stukeley had danced with her; more-
over, that it was very hot in the middle of the
day; and that when they went into the hall to
supper, there was a peacock, from whose mouth
ascended a little flame ; but beyond these im-
portant facts, no information could be elicited from
her.
It is curious to note how few people ever con-
F2
106 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
trive to give you any idea of what they have seen ;
they seize upon some little personal fact, and there
the memory halts. While others, who allow their
observation to travel out of their own sphere, con-
trive to bring the scene vividly before you, and
without the aid of invention, but with a dramatic
power many a writer might envy, give the most
lively and graphic description, simply because they
have attended to what passed around them.
Francesca had a hundred questions to ask
about Lord Avonleigh, but her curiosity remained
ungratified for two reasons ; first, because she could
learn little from Lucy, excepting the reiterated
" so handsome, and so polite;" and secondly,
because she was aware of her own interest in
the subject, which she was yet unwilling to avow
and what occupies ourselves we always fancy
must be obvious to others. Nothing ever teaches
us the extent of our mutual and universal indif-
ference.
Late as it was when they separated, Francesca
did not retire to rest, but, re-trimming the lamp,
she drew the little table towards her, and prepared
to write to Lord Avonleigh. More than once she
had begun to address him before, but her resolu-
tion had always failed, and she had deferred the
execution till to-morrow, which, as usual, never
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 107
came. Now, whatever she intended to do, it be-
came imperative upon her to do at once. She
was unwilling that her father should hear of her,
and not from herself; besides, and her heart
warmed at the thought, he might feel hurt at the
appearance of neglect. How often did she com-
mence writing ; but how impossible she found it to
say what seemed sufficient to herself! Wearied
out by her own indecision, she at length sealed
the following letter, most thoroughly dissatisfied
with it, but feeling hopeless of another attempt.
" In entreating your Lordship's attention to
the enclosed packet, I have nothing to rely upon
but your kindness, and the hope that some sad,
perhaps tender, remembrances from the past may
plead the cause of the present. It explains itself,
and, till read, I trust you will pardon the intrusion
of a seeming stranger.
" F.DEC."
The packet contained Arden's confession, Avon-
leigh's own letters, and her mother's miniature.
What a world of passion and of suffering were
within its slender folds ! But the passion was
now cold as the dust in which it had long slept,
and the suffering was now but a memory. Her
108 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
letter finished, Francesca retired to rest, but in
vain. What the morrow might bring forth kept
her awake with feverish anticipation.
There is something in human nature that
shrinks from any great change, even though that
change be for the better. Alas ! alt experience
shews us how little we dare trust our fate. At
length, worn and wearied, she slept ; but the
turmoil of her thoughts was also in her dreams.
Now, pale as she last beheld him, she saw Guido,
beckoning her with a sad and mournful aspect.
Suddenly he changed into Evelyn ; but he, too,
seemed grave and cold ; and yet she followed him
through a dim uncertain country, weighed down
by that sense of oppression and helplessness which
is only known to sleep. His silence appeared so
strange, and fear was upon her ; she tried, but
could not speak at last he passed away terrible
shapes crowded round her; and, in the effort to
avoid their loathsome contact, she awoke.
The sun was shining into her room, and the
birds singing cheerfully, while the many odours
from the garden below came in at the open lattice.
All was reviving and joyous ; and the depression
of the previous night vanished like the fear in her
visions. Her first act was to despatch her letter
to Lord Avonleigh ; that done, she could settle to
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 109
nothing, but wandered from the house to the
garden, and from the garden to the house, in
all the restlessness of anticipation. Suddenly,
she thought Lord Avonleigh would, as soon as
the packet was read, perhaps come to see her.
A natural emotion of feminine vanity made her
desire to look as well as she could ; and, to her
foreign and classical taste, the close cap and grey
boddice which she had lately been wearing were
odious besides, she wished, if possible, to recall
by her appearance all his early associations with
Italy.
For the first time for many weeks her beauti-
ful black hair was released from the confinement
of the plaited muslin border, and bound up in its
own rich braids round the small and graceful head.
For a moment she turned a hesitating glance to-
wards the gay attire that had only been opened to
shew Lucy since she left Paris ; but, to say nothing
of the inconsistency of such courtly garb in her
present abode, their fashion would recall nothing
to her father's mind, while a more national cos-
tume would carry him at once back to Parma.
She therefore assumed the novice's garb, so uni-
versally worn by young Italians a robe of black
silk, only fastened round the waist by a girdle.
And scarcely could she have selected aught more
110 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
becoming ; for her exquisite shape required no aid
beyond the relief of the flowing drapery. Lucy,
who had only seen her in either the large loose
wrapping dress of serge, or in the quaint simpli-
city of the Puritanic garb, then so general in
England, could not restrain an exclamation of
admiration as she returned to their chamber.
Where there is no envy in the case and envy
rarely exists where there is no rivalry I believe
there is nothing more genuine or delightful than
one woman's admiration of another's beauty. There
is a pure and delicate taste about their nature which
gives a keen sense of enjoyment to such apprecia-
tion ; and loveliness is to them a religion of the
heart, associated with a thousand fine and tender
emotions. It would have been difficult* to find
two more perfect, yet more opposed specimens of
beauty, than the two now before us. Lucy's was
the result of the sweetest colouring. The golden
hair, the violet-blue of the eyes, the pearly white
skin, tinted by the softest rose that ever opened on
an April morning, were blending together both the
lights and shadows of a spring atmosphere soft
and timid a creature made for gentle words and
watchful looks.
But Francesca's beauty belonged to features
and to expression features perfect in the Greek
FRANCESCA CARRARA. Ill
outline. A brow noble as if never unwortby or
ungenerous thought had crossed its white expanse ;
the red lip somewhat scornful, but smiling, when
it did smile, with the sweetness of a thousand
common smiles. Large lustrous eyes, passionate,
thoughtful, clear, and calm their general cha-
racter was repoift ; but the lightning slept in their
midnight depths that flash which the mind alone
can give, but whose light is that of the sky whence
it emanates. Usually of a clear, delicate, yet healthy
paleness, any strong emotion woulcnrlood her cheek
with crimson a rich, regal dye, as the heart
poured forth its wealth in one glowing and pro-
digal tide; and that surest test of beauty some
might say that it was not to their taste, which
contradiction, whim, or some other association had
turned in favour of a different style ; but none
could deny its existence no one would have
thought of calling her merely pretty.
Long indeed did that morning appear to Frari-
cesca the longer as her anxiety was unexpressed ;
for it certainly does shorten a period of waiting not
a little to spend it in talking over its various pro-
babilities of termination, wondering what will hap-
pen, whille we are consoled by the strong sympathy
we excite in the listener. But Francesca had never
mentioned her peculiar situation with regard to
112 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
Lord Avonleigh. Naturally proud and sensitive,
she was necessarily reserved ; and, perhaps from
never having had to practise it, she had the
highest idea of the duty owed by child to parent,
and held herself bound to silence on a matter
which implicated and depended upon her father.
Whatever she might hope and e^ect herself, she
could allow no other to hazard a conjecture on the
subject. To her own thoughts, therefore, she
confined the hopes and fears whose agitation she
might. repress ftit not subdue.
113
CHAPTER XV.
" He scanned, with a rapid but scrutinising glance, each of
the papers contained in the parcel."
The Buccaneer.
IT was a large, long room, whose height, though
disproportioned to its other dimensions, had this
advantage, that the painted ceiling was completely
seen. That ceiling was covered with square com-
partments, each filled with strange figures, flowers,
fruit, heraldic devices all blazoned in the richest
colours, so minute, so fantastic, and so highly
finished, that the painting might well have ex-
hausted a whole imagination, while its execution
was the business of a complete and busy life. It
was supported by a gilded cornice, carved into a
thousand curious shapes and emblems, among
which the horned wolf, the crest of the Avon-
leigh family, was conspicuous. Beneath was a
black oaken wainscot, each of whose panels was
set in gilded frames, to match the cornice. Little,
however, of the wall was seen, for it was nearly
114 FBANCESCA CARRARA.
hidden by the arched book-cases; and the pon-
derous tomes, mostly bound in black or white vel-
lum, long since grown dingy with age, contrasted
forcibly with the gayer ornaments of their habi-
tation.
The chimney-piece was of party-coloured
marble, covered with figures, some of whose faces
were beautiful, but generally running off into
those grotesque combinations which characterised
the peculiar taste of their time. Fire there was
none ; but a large china jar was filled with green
boughs and flowers, and occupied nearly the
whole hearth. Opposite was a range of some
half-dozen narrow high windows, through which
the sun-beams came slanting, and seemed striv-
ing to make acquaintance with heavy arm-chairs,
covered with elaborate embroidery with the
dusky shelves, whence glittered occasionally the
silver clasps of some old volume and with an
antique cabinet, whose open doors shewed a col-
lection of toys, cumbrous and odd-looking, but a
convincing proof that the taste for nicknacks is
no modern invention.
Towards one of the windows a table.was drawn,
and there, loitering over the remains of an ample
breakfast, were seated Lord Avonleigh and his
son, sometimes talking eagerly, and looking
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 115
with a pleased and prolonged gaze on the many
familiar objects around.
" This is better than the Tower," exclaimed
Lord Avonleigh, as his eye followed the green
sweep of the park to where it merged in the forest.
" But will you never have finished J" exclaimed
Lord Stukeley. " I am impatient to run over
the old place. Half an hour ago, I agreed with
you, that avant tout ilfaut dejeuner" (& few days
at Whitehall had already imbued the youth with
the prevailing fashion of using French when
English would have done as well, if not better)
" but really we are spending half the day in look-
ing out of the window."
What answer his father might have made it is
impossible to say ; for at that instant a servant
entered, and gave in Francesca's packet.
" A lady's writing ! and very pretty writing it
is, vraiment, mon pere. I do not know whether I
can allow this."
" Well, you can save me the trouble of open-
ing it : I doubt much my taking any interest in
the matter."
Albert opened the packet, and proceeded to
read Francesca's note aloud,
" Very mysterious ! Why, my dear father,
this is quite a delightful adventure,"
116 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" Let me look at the note," said Lord Avon-
leigh ; " I am sure I do not know the hand."
While he was considering the scroll, his son
unfastened the miniature. " A picture, too!" ex-
claimed he ; "I wonder whether it be that of
our unknown correspondent? She could not have
sent a better letter of introduction. Did you ever
see so lovely a face?" and he gave the portrait
to his father.
Had a spectre risen from the yawning earth at
his feet, Lord Avonleigh could not have received
a greater shock. He leapt from his seat, and
stood gazing, as if spell-bound, on that long-for-
gotten face. Years flitted by, and Padua's walks
and walls seemed to circle him round. The little
garden and its moonlight meetings, with the fair
girl, the spirit of the place, all arose as the
things of yesterday. A shudder passed over him.
What suffering might he not now have to learn !
He dreaded to seek the contents of these letters.
He was roused by Albert's cutting the string
round the next enclosure. " I believe," said he,
in a broken voice, " I must look over these letters
myself: they relate to a long-past period of my
life, and, perhaps, are ill-suited to meet any eye
but mine." v
Albert started as he marked the sudden
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 117
change in Lord Avonleigh's countenance. " My
dearest father," exclaimed he, as he gave him the
letters, " do not exclude me from your confi-
dence ; my love for you will supply the place of
experience."
" Not now/' replied his father; " as yet I
know not what I have to learn; leave me for
the present."
" I may soon return?" asked the youth, as he
paused on the window-sill.
" Certainly, my child."
And, satisfied with the affectionate look which
answered his own, Albert sprang down into the
park.
Lord Avonleigh drew the papers towards him,
and, turning his back to the light, prepared to
examine their contents; but it was long before
he could detach his gaze from the picture. The fair
young face seemed to brighten beneath his look,
even as it was wont to do of old : could it be so
many, many years since they had parted ? Deeply
at that moment did Lord Avonleigh feel the con-
viction, that never had he been loved as he was
loved by that forsaken Italian. His marriage, if
not unhappy, had been indifferent ; it brought back
none of those passionate and tender thoughts asso-
ciated with the image of Beatrice it was not the
118 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
one charmed dream of his glad and eager youth-
hood.
From the contemplation of the portrait he
turned to his own letters : he began to look them
over, and mournful for all things departed are
mournful was the train of feeling with which
they were connected. Saddened, softened, and sub-
dued as he felt while reading them, yet more than
once he laughed aloud so absurd did the exag-
gerated expressions of the boy appear to the man.
At last, in pure shame, he laid them down.
" Good Heaven!" exclaimed he, " could I ever
have written such nonsense? and yet how deli-
cious was the folly ! Ah ! wisdom is little worth
what it costs ! " and, with a graver brow, he
turned to Richard Arden's letter. He read on,
every feature convulsed with emotion, till he came
to her death, when the paper dropped from his
hand he had never dreamed of such horror.
To one who had known but the lulled emotions of
domestic life, which had passed in the sunshine of
prosperity a quiet, pleasant, indolent sort of
ready -shaped existence such things appeared
impossible till they had actually happened. His
only relief was to execrate Arden ; and, with the
self-indulgence natural to one whom no bitter ex-
perience had ever forced upon still more bitter
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 119
reflection, he excused himself by blaming him.
At length he read to the close. His own
Beatrice's child in England ! to her, at least, he
would make ample reparation ; and without wait-
ing to think over the subject, he hastily locked
the papers in a drawer of the cabinet, and hurried
to Lawrence Aylmer's.
Even exaggerating, if that be possible, the dif-
ficulties of a young female left, without relation
or friend, to her own resources, he was impatient
to extend his protection to the hitherto orphan.
It was fortunate for him that reparation took such
an easy form. It cannot be denied that there
are some persons whose faults are more severely
punished than other persons' crimes : how much
heavier had been Beatrice's portion ! But Lord
Avonleigh, after the first shock, put the worst part
of the business aside, letting pity for the luckless
Italian assume its most soothing form. He dwelt
principally on Arden's shameful conduct, and his
own intended kindness to Francesca ; and by the
time he arrived at the farm-house, he had also
arrived at the conclusion that he had been only a
singularly ill-used person, and was sufficiently re-
covered to wonder if his daughter was presentable
and handsome. " If she is but pretty, we shall
manage. Albert can very well spare a sister's
120 FBANCESCA CARRARA.
dower ; and, no doubt, she will marry brilliantly."
Thus, occupied with pleasant prospects for the
future, instead of gloomy reminiscences of the
past, Lord Avonleigh entered the house.
Francesca was alone, and at once her ear de-
tected a strange step in the passage. Her heart
died within her ; in vain she endeavoured to con-
trol her emotion; the objects grew indistinct
around her ; and when Lord Avonleigh ap-
proached and took her hand, she sank kneeling
at his feet, and burst into tears.
People who have not strong feelings them-
selves dislike their display in others. Wanting in
that sympathy which intuitively teaches how to
console, agitation always embarrasses them ; they
are puzzled, and know not what to say, and feel
that they are in an awkward and disagreeable
position.
Lord Avonleigh raised the agitated girl, and.
leading her to a seat, took his place beside her.
" Do not weep, my sweet child!" said he:
" surely our meeting is not a misfortune?"
At the word " child," Francesca raised her
eyes to his face, and smiled through her tears
so delightful to her unaccustomed ear were the
expressions of affection. " My dearest father!"
exclaimed she ; and at that moment what a
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 121
security of future happiness seemed around her!
A parent's love and a parent's care were indeed a
guarantee against misfortune. ,Was not her fate
now in his hands?
Lord Avonleigh soon recovered his self-posses-
sion. He had those elegant and finished manners
which are prepared for any thing except emotion.
He led Francesca to talk of herself ancf of her
past life ; and was equally satisfied with her con-
versation and her appearance. The classic and
poetic seclusion in which the commencement of her
life had passed, was, in the grace and the refine-
ment which it nurtured, well fitted to receive the
polish of the French court ; and her great heauty
flung its own charm over the slightest action.
Lord Avonleigh was delighted with his daughter,
and she was both delighted and astonished. Was
it possible that this dreaded interview could pass
over so placidly? It was, however, not ended
yet.
" I deeply feel," said Francesca, " your kind-
ness in asking no questions, and demanding no
proofs, beyond Mr. Arden's narrative."
" Do not speak of him," interrupted Lord
Avonleigh, who, in truth, wished to avoid all
mention of the disagreeable past.
" I believe," continued she, " there are still
VOL. III. G
FBANCESCA CARRARA.
some papers which, for our mutual satisfaction, it
is fitting you should examine." So saying, she
unlocked the little casket. " This," said she, in
a faltering voice, " is the certificate of my your
marriage," she could not pronounce her mother's
name to him; " this the register of my own
baptism ; and this the record of her death and
interment in the burying-ground of Santa Ca-
terina."
Lord Avonleigh glanced over them ; but as he
read the last his whole countenance changed.
" Great God!" he exclaimed: " her death oc-
curred in August, and I was married in England
seven months before ! Francesca, if I acknowledge
you, Albert is " But his voice failed, and he
leant back in speechless consternation.
For the first time in his life, an insuperable
obstacle arose before his intention. He could not
but feel most forcibly the justice of Francesca's
claims : he could not hope that she would re-
linquish them ; and yet, Albert to be disgraced, dis-
inherited ! and through whose fault ? his father's !
He sprang up and approached the door, gasping
for air. Francesca, who had not comprehended
his meaning, thought him ill, and approached him
with gentle words of inquiry.
" Not yet," said he; and drawing her hand
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 123
within his, he walked into the garden, and followed
the first path into which they turned. It led to a
gentle ascent that commanded the road ; and
there, as if sent to startle and reproach him, Lord
Stukeley met his sight. He grasped Francesca's
arm, who was terrified by* his sudden agitation,
and whispered, " Look there!"
She looked, and saw one of the most graceful
cavaliers that ever reined in a mettled horse. The
white plumes of his cap danced gaily in the air,
while the long curls hung over his shoulders.
The likeness between him and his father was
striking. The same fair broad brow, the same
clear hazel eyes, the same frank smile ; and as he
bent forward to caress the greyhound leaping up
at his side, Francesca thought that she had never
seen a handsomer youth.
" That is your brother," said Lord Avonleigh.
She gazed upon him with an eager glance of
pleasure and affection. " I shall like him so
much! Will you not speak to him?"
" Speak to him!" interrupted Lord Avonleigh ;
" speak to him ! and for what ? to tell him that
he is a beggar disgraced that he has no right
to the very name he bears ! Speak to him ! you
are impatient to assume your honours as heiress
of Avonleigh !"
124 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
Francesca was hurt by the manner, even more
than astonished by the words. " What mean
you?" exclaimed she. "You look at me re-
proachfully : you withdraw your hand from mine !
What have I done? You were so kind. What
has so suddenly changed you?"
" Francesca," resumed her father, " put
yourself in yonder "boy's place, and then fancy
what his feelings will be, when he finds that the
rank, name, and wealth in which he has been
brought up are not his ! Do you think it is in
human nature to welcome the sister who comes to
deprive him of them ? "
" Deprive him of them! " repeated Francesca:
" why should I deprive him of them ? Give me a
home, with your mutual affection ; and if you
could look into my heart, you would see how
little I care for your wealth?"
" Are you not aware that my first marriage
makes my second invalid ? If you are my lawful
child, Albert is not ; I cannot acknowledge the
one without disgracing the other."
" Let us go back to the house," said Fran-
cesca, faintly.
Silently they returned by the narrow green
path, Lord Avonleigh thinking himself the most
unfortunate man in the world, and his daughter
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 125
nerving herself to fulfil the resolution which she
had instantly taken. The walk was short ; yet what
a world of emotion passed in its brief limit ! Lord
Avonleigh was bewildered and undecided ; he was
like a man who, having received some great shock,
stands dizzy and pained, but quite unprepared to
meet its consequences. Not so with Francesca.
She knew that every vision in which she had in-
dulged was annihilated at a blow ; she saw at a
glance the disadvantages of her future position.
But only from one image did she turn away : she
could not bear the thought of Evelyn. Still her
mind was determined. No name, no rank, no
wealth, no dream of love fulfilled, could reconcile
her to purchase them at the expense of another.
" I," thought she, " am used to adversity I know
how to bear and suffer ; and sometimes I think that
my spirits are too much broken to enjoy happiness,
even if it came. But my brother let me call him
by that name, and fill my mind with the claims
of so near and dear a tie he is in the first flush
of youth and hope, and knows not how the one
will darken and the other deceive. Can I bear
to write shame on that fair young brow send
him forth a wanderer from the home of which he
has been the delight sow dissension between a
father and son, who now idolise each other ?
126 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
Never, never ! Evelyn, dearest Evelyn ! I could
not purchase even our reunion on such terms : I
were unworthy of you if I could. There is but
one course for me to take ; and, harsh and bitter
though it be, that course is mine."
They had now arrived at the door. " I pray
you enter," said Francesca to her companion, who
paused irresolute on the threshold. She approached
the table whereon stood her mother's casket. She
replaced the papers within, and, turning the lock,
she gave the key into Lord Avonleigh's hand, at
the same time pushing the casket towards him.
" You will never," whispered she, " be further
troubled with claim of Francesca ! No avowal
could avail my mother. In her case, silence is
the only justice needed by the dead. Let the noble
youth, now the acknowledged heir of your house
and heart, so remain."
" Albert,' 7 interrupted Lord Avonleigh, " will
never allow it. You know not the pride of that
young heart."
" He must never hear it," was the reply.
(t Let the past be what it now is a secret between
ourselves."
" But you, my noble, my generous girl ! "
exclaimed Lord Avonleigh, " I dare not let you
pay the penalty of my former folly."
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 127
" Nay," said she, soothingly, " I shall still
rely on somewhat of protection and of kindness
from you."
" And that, indeed, you shall have. I have
power and wealth, both shall be at your com-
mand. I will do every thing I can to promote
your future happiness. You will, of course, fix
your abode at Avonleigh."
" In that," replied Francesca, " I shall be ruled
by you. Here, certainly, I cannot remain; for
Lucy Aylmer's marriage takes place in a week."
" You shall see me again this evening," an-
swered Lord Avonleigh. " By that time, pre-
parations shall have been made for your reception
and welcome to the house of a father, whom you
must learn to forgive ere you learn to love."
He kissed her brow, and left her. She watched
him *un consciously, till the winding walk hid him
from her sight, and then sank back on her seat,
every nerve relaxing from its high-strained excite-
ment into utter and still despondency.
128
CHAPTER XVI.
" Fear is true love's cruel nurse."
COLERIDGE.
LORD AVONLEIGH pursued his way home uncom-
fortably enough ; but still greatly relieved by
Francesca's prompt renouncement of her claims.
Rapidly the injustice of permitting such a sacri-
fice became merged in its expediency. He laid a
thousand flattering unctions to his soul, in the
way of future plans for her welfare ; which all
ended in that usual remedy of the weak and
worldly money. He could portion her hand-
somely, and marry her well ; and by the time
Lord Avonleigh arrived at his own house, he felt
as if he were not only a just, but a very generous
individual.
No self-complacency can equal that of the self-
ish. Not content with its indulgence, they actually
idolise it into being praiseworthy. Lord Avonleigh
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 129
was glad to escape from trouble and vexation,
both of which must inevitably have fallen to his
share if Francesca had insisted on her right ; and
he did feel grateful to her for what she saved him.
But he was quite incapable of appreciating the
delicacy, the generosity, the high -mindedn ess,
which prompted her conduct; still less could he
enter into the bitter and painful sense of degrada-
tion which sank into her very soul. From her
childhood, the pride of ancestry, in its noblest and
most imaginative feeling, had been cultivated by
Jier grandfather's narratives of the heroic deeds
and knightly bearing of the noble house of Car-
rara. The pride which most bestow on the present,
he lavished on the past; or, rather, all he could
spare from science he gave to history; and his
two children were deeply imbued with a sense of
what they owed to their illustrious race. Their
name was as a bond against meanness or disgrace.
The pure and high blood which flowed in their
veins was its own and best security.
No one could have felt more keenly than Fran-
cesca what she resigned. For the last few weeks,
hope, so long dormant for even hope yields to
the impossible hope had delighted to dwell on a
future, from which it had so long turned away.
She had imagined herself acknowledged and be-
G2
130 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
loved seeing Evelyn again with every advantage,
and who that ever loved but pined to bestow
every worldly good on the loved one? She had
invented all possible circumstances but those under
which they were now likely to meet.
The day was cold and clear, yet the atmo-
sphere of the chamber where she sat oppressed her
breathing. She drew her cloak round her, and
went forth ; but the air did not revive her, the
sunshine could not cheer her. The reaction of
the over-excited spirits aided the moral depres-
sion, and she sought the churchyard. With the
living she had no ties of sympathy she had with
the dead.
The grass was now long and green upon Guido's
grave, and filled with small, pale wild flowers. A
heavy cloud rested over the inclosed space, where
the black yews waved dismally ; while, far away,
the sunshine reposed on the distant heights. Fran-
cesca gazed upon it, it was the very emblem of
her fate. So did the light of youth and hope
recede from her horizon, leaving around her but
the weight and the shadow.
She took her usual seat beside the grave, and,
leaning her head upon her arm, gave way to bitter
weeping. The gloomy belief of Richard Arden rose
present upon her mind ; the melancholy forebod-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 131
ing of her brother, the mournful realities of her
own experience, all pressed heavily upon her.
" I feel it written deep within my heart," ex-
claimed she, " that we are a doomed race that to
us the common success and enjoyments of life are
denied ! My mother perished fearfully, desperate
with her wasted youth and broken heart. Guido !
how soon he took refuge in a tomb, made welcome
by disappointed aspirations and outraged affection !
And I how little happiness have I ever known!
how friendless, how desolate, has been my existence
how thrown back upon myself ! At a time when
most of my age and sex are surrounded by care,
idols of the dearest and the fondest home they
can ever know, I was left to myself my sorrows
unshared, my joys unthought of, my difficulties
unsoothed. How soon has any little gleam of sun-
shine flung upon my path been overcast ! Love,
which to so many turns the common earth to
paradise true, deep, ay, and requited as mine
has been, yet to what mortification and to what
misery has it not condemned me ! I seem fated
to suffer for the faults of others."
But even as she spoke, her eye rested upon the
yet scarcely covered grave of Francis Evelyn, and
she involuntarily softened the reproach that had
been linked with his memory. He had dearly
132 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
expiated his faults ; all England now rung with
rejoicing at that very event which had cost him his
life in attempting to forward, another sacrifice
to that cruel and mocking destiny which rules
despotic over our lower world.
The recollection of that ghastly scene oppressed
Francesca still more. She trembled to think that
her feet were on English ground, so much had she
suffered since her first arrival. The long anxiety
of Guido's illness his death, severing her only
tie of name and kindred the utter desolation that
followed the brief period of feverish hope now so
cruelly dashed to the ground the mingled morti-
fication and despair with which she looked to the
future, might well excuse the many and heavy
tears that fell on the wild flowers below.
" I would to God," said she, gazing earnestly
upon the green sod, " that I were laid quietly to
sleep in this deep and silent home. I desire rest
even more than happiness. My heart is wasted,
my spirits weary. Let what may come of good,
I almost doubt my power, now, to enjoy it. It
matters not; earth has her step-children the
neglected and the wretched. I am one of them.
Guido, my beloved Guido, oh that I were with
thee !"
The sunshine had dispersed the shadows, and
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 133
faded itself into the dim twilight, before Francesca
roused from her gloomy reverie, which perhaps
would have continued even longer had it not been
broken by Lucy's approach, who, missing her, had
sought her out to bring her a letter of Lord Avon-
leigh's, which ran thus :
" DEAREST FRANCESCA, For, if not avowedly
my child, still mine in heart and truth, I have
ordered all necessary preparations to be made for
your reception at the Castle, where you will be
received as the Signora da Carrara, the daughter
of an old Italian friend. Albert alone is aware of
our nearer connexion ; he is prepared to meet you
with a brother's affection, though he knows not
what he owes to your generous forbearance. Com-
mand me in every thing, your affectionate
AVONLEIGH."
There was a kindness in this letter which some-
what reassured Francesca, though she could not
help wondering at the ease with which it was
written. To a sensitive temper like her's, keenly
alive to the feelings of others, because their know-
ledge had been taught by her own, nothing is more
astonishing than the careless and easy manner in
which the many pass over the surface, gloss over
134 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
the inquiry, and take the exertion and the sacrifice
as things to be expected. Not that she in the
least exaggerated the merits of her conduct ; she
acted as her feelings prompted she could not
have done otherwise. The very phrase of " gene-
rous forbearance " shocked her as overstrained ;
but she did marvel that Lord Avonleigh felt neither
pained nor embarrassed in a situation where such
sensations seemed inevitable.
" The answer, as you were not within," said
Lucy, " will be sent for in an hour. But what is
this, dear, that the page said of preparations
making for your reception at the Castle ? Are we
going to lose you ? Dear, dear Francesca, you do
not know how I shall miss you !"
" Mr. Aubyn," answered Francesca, with a
faint smile, " will soon console you, and we shall
still be near neighbours."
" But do," exclaimed Lucy, " tell me all
about it."
" There is very little to tell," replied her com-
panion, with hesitation, for falsehood to her noble
and ingenuous temper was as distressing as new ;
" I am the daughter of an old friend of Lord
Avonleigh's, who repays kindness and affection to
himself by promised kindness and affection to me."
" And so you will live at the Castle ! Ah I
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 135
how happy you are going to be it is the most
beautiful place in the world !"
" Not quite," replied Francesca, smiling in
spite of herself. " But we must make haste home,
or what will Charles Aubyn say when he finds
your haunted chamber lonely ?"
" I wonder what he will do !" replied Lucy,
who had a true girl's pleasure in talking of her
lover.
And this wonder, together with anticipations
for Francesca, in which Francesca could not join,
enabled them to reach home without finding the
path too long.
136
CHAPTER XVII.
" With that she struck her on the lips,
So died double red ;
Hard was the heart that gave the blow
Sweet were th'fc lips that bled."
Ballad of Faire Rosamunde.
" IT is well you have returned home to dinner/'
exclaimed Albert, as he caught sight of his father
in the avenue, and ran forwards to meet him,
" or I must have starved ; since eating before my
curiosity is satisfied is quite out of the question.
You have been the whole morning at Lawrence
Aylrner's, and I hear that he has had for months
past the most beautiful stranger residing under his
roof. Like the wandering princess of an old
romance, no one knows who she is, or where she
came from, only that she arrived with a brother
to whom she was devotedly attached, but who died
a few months after their landing. Now, my dear
father, do give me a full and particular account of
this mysterious beauty. They say that she is evi-
dently noble surely she is not going to live for
ever at the farm ?"
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 137
" She is going to take up her abode with us,"
replied his father.
" In what capacity ?" asked the youth, laughing.
" To every one else/' said Lord Avonleigh,
" as the daughter of an old friend ; to you, as
your sister."
" My sister !" exclaimed Albert.
" Your sister. It is a long and mournful his-
tory, and one whose repetition I would fain be
spared ; but we have all our faults and our follies,
and, take my word for it, boy, that we pay dearly
enough for the latter. She is my daughter friend-
less and unprotected ; and it were hard that the
innocent should suffer for the guilty."
It is odd how easily the common-places of
morality or of sentiment glide off in conversation.
Well, they are " exceedingly helpful," and so Lord
Avonleigh found them.
" Poor girl!" continued he, " she has known
much adversity we must at least be kind to her."
" Indeed we will," exclaimed Albert, eager
with all the ready affection of youth; " I have
always wished for a sister I am sure I shall like
her so much."
" But remember, Albert," added his father,
" I rely on your discretion. To you alone is in-
trusted the secret of her birth,"
138 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" My dear father, can you doubt my prudence ?"
said the youth, with a little air of pleasure at being
thought worthy of confidence.
The next day brought Francesca to the Castle.
Of all concerned, she felt most at parting from
Lawrence Aylmer's kind and accustomed roof.
Lucy, though her tears fell fast when it came to
actually bidding good-by, yet was too deeply im-
pressed with what she considered her friend's
good fortune to feel regret beyond the present.
Besides, she was more than consoled by Lord
Avonleigh's declaration, that they should all attend
her wedding in the following week : it was impos-
sible to be very miserable with such a prospect
before her.
But Francesca felt a deep depression. Here
was another great change in her life ; and how
little encouragement could she draw from its pre-
decessors ! None had been for the better. She
had quitted the lovely and quiet scenes of her
youth for the vexation and vanity of Paris what
a period of fever and disappointment had it been !
She had sought England, to see the grave close
over the only human being linked to her by ties
of blood and long affection and to find a father
who feared to acknowledge her and to enter
another home, as a stranger and as a dependant.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 139
She had all life to begin over again, without the
buoyancy or the hope that render its path en-
durable, and which surmount difficulties, by colour-
ing them with those pleasant hues of delusion
which make the yoke of existence easy, and its
burden light.
Accustomed to the airy and cheerful archi-
tecture of Italy, cheerful even in its decay for the
proportion is still perfect in its grace, and luxuriant
nature hides the ravages of time or to the gay
crowds which fixed attention upon themselves in
the courtly hotels of Paris and of late to the air
of occupation and of comfort in Aylmer's house,
a strange sense of oppression came over Francesca
as she entered the gloomy baronial hall of Avon-
leigh. The high narrow windows shed shadows
rather than light below ; the carved walls were
black with time ; and the armour hung around
suggested no images but those of warfare and
death. Many of the figures, clad in mail from
head to foot, were ranged above the dais ; and
she could almost fancy a skeleton form beneath,
or that wild and fearful eyes glared through the
apertures of the closed visors. The hall was cold,
too, and chilled her southern temperament almost
like unkindness.
" Is this my welcome," thought she, " to my
140 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
father's house? is it an omen?" She wished to
hurry through the Gothic space, complaining of
the cold, to the discontent of both father and
brother, especially the latter, who delighted in the
legends attached to every weapon or scutcheon on
the wall. They forgot that the early associations
which had made their interest were blanks to
Francesca ; but her indifference was quite enough
to put them out of temper and oth were too
self-willed to conceal it. In the meantime, uncon-
scious of her offence, poor Francesca could only
wonder within herself at the change in their man-
ner, and assign it to every cause but the right one.
She was conducted to her own apartment ; and
as she braided back her hair and changed her
dress, it was well for her that the young waiting-
maid appointed to attend her was more alive to
the duties of the toilette than her mistress ; for,
depressed and bewildered, Francesca scarcely knew
what she was doing. Still, when she entered the
supper- room, no longer muffled up in her riding-
hood and cloak, though pale, and her eyes heavy
with unshed tears, neither Lord Avonleigh nor
his son could restrain an exclamation of delight at
her exceeding beauty. Albert's good humour, too,
was completely restored ; for the falcon, alluded to
at an earlier period of the narrative, had been
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 141
brought to the Castle, and he was full of gratitude
and pleasure. Supper passed off more cheerfully
than could have been expected ; but its after-con-
versation drove the blood from Francesca's cheek
to her heart, there to fever with anxiety, or freeze
with fear.
" So I hear," said Lord Avonleigh, " that
young Roundhead, Robert Evelyn, is excluded by
name from the general pardon. But for him, that
vacillating Henry Cromwell would have proclaimed
Charles Stuart in Dublin upon his father's death."
" Is he a prisoner?" asked Albert, while Fran-
cesca gasped for breath.
" No ; but he is too dangerous to be let escape
so easily. It is amazing what a hold those Evelyns
have on the peasantry m this county ; glad am I
that we are to be rid of them, for I hate the very
name."
" Francis was shot by that mad fanatic John-
stone," added Albert, turning to his sister, " be-
fore Aylmer's door did you see any thing of the
prisoner ?"
" Nay," interrupted Lord Avonleigh, " this is
not the most agreeable subject wherewith to enter-
tain our guest ; you will have ample time to talk
over every event that ever happened to either. I see
142 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
that the Signora da Carrara looks fatigued. Albert,
will you call her attendants T
" Yes," replied the youth, " and light her myself
through all our endless galleries."
Tears rose to Francesca's eyes at even this
slight mark of kindness. Albert noticed them,
for long indulgence had not yet wrought its usual
work of hardness and indifference ; and, taking her
hand kindly in his, he said, as he led her along,
" We are all very new and strange to you now ;
but we shall be such friends soon ! Good night,
my sweet sister."
Francesca felt too much to speak ; but her
grateful look gave Albert more pleasure than any
words. Almost immediately dismissing her at-
tendant, she sat down in a large carved oaken
settle that was drawn close by the hearth, where
the wood-fire threw a multitude of fantastic shapes
in rapidly changing shadows around. It was
scarcely possible to imagine a more gloomy
chamber. The purple velvet curtains of the bed
looked almost black in the dim light, and heavy
plumes of hearse-like feathers drooped from each
corner. The floor of polished wood gave no relief
to the general dulness ; and the walls were hung
with tapestry, where the ghastly figures, large as
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 143
life, waved to and fro with a human likeness which
yet seemed to mock humanity.
It represented the history of Fair Rosamond,
one of those legends which take that hold on the
popular imagination which love and crime usually
do when stamped by death, and chronicled in the
simple poetry which is the truest echo of the heart.
In the first compartment, she was sitting with her
maidens, binding up flowers ; and, rude as were
the outlines, and harsh the tints, the artist had
well contrived to express the attention they were
giving to their simple employment, an attention
that could only be given by the easily pleased, and
the light-hearted. But a cavalier, who was gazing
on them from the back-ground, seemed to indicate
that one at least would soon find that there could
be a deeper interest excited than that taken . in
binding a garland of lilies. In the next, that period
had already arrived. A maiden was seated apart
from her companions, the very flowers scattered
neglected by her side ; but it was obvious that
idlesse that first sweet symptom of love was
pleasanter than her graceful task ; for the colour
was rich upon her cheek, and the smile parted
her scarce conscious lips. In the third, a cavalier
was kneeling at her feet, while the downcast eye,
and the yielded hand, betrayed that his suit was
144 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
granted almost before it was asked. To this suc-
ceeded a splendid banquetting room. The cavalier
and the maiden are seated beneath a royal canopy,
and the cavalier wears the insignia of his high
station. Rosamond is at his side, her hand still
clasped in his ; the gems are bright in her braided
hair, and neck and arms are laden with orient
pearls : but her cheek is paler than its wont, and
the soft blue eyes have a look of care far different
from what they wore when but heeding how best
the primrose and the violet might consort together.
This was followed by the parting between the frail
Rose and her royal lover. The spur is on his
heel, and the sword at his side ; honour with a
knight is stronger than love, and he must go
yet she clings to his arm alas ! why may not she
accompany him ! Henry's face is averted ; but
the agony on that of his unhappy mistress is
terrible it is the desolation of a life. Next you
saw her alone, a kneeling penitent at the foot
of the crucifix ; her long fair hair is unbound,
and the sackcloth robe is -girded by a cord round
her slender shape : her hands are clasped, and
tears are flowing fast from the quenched radiance
of those shadowy eyes ; no penitence can avail the
still cherished sin, and no humiliation express the
depths of her self-conscious degradation . She looks
FRANCESCA CARRARA, 145
above, but it is in despair, not hope ; she weeps,
yet dares not pray, for the image of Henry is in
her heart even while prostrate before the image
of her Saviour. The scene changes it is the
banquet-room again. Another sits beneath the
purple canopy a lady, but alone. The diadem
is on her cold and haughty brow ; there is no
pity in her stern aspect, and the smile on her lip
bodes death. Before her stands the lovely culprit,
whose fatal beauty, and still more fatal love, are
about to be dearly requited. Her mouth is yet red
with the blow of the vindictive Queen ; but her eye,
if sad, is calm, and her cheek, though pale, is
resolved. The dark cup is in her hand she has
turned aside from the dagger it is too cruel a
weapon for her gentle clasp.
Francesca, who knew not the story, gazed
eagerly on the last compartment. It is a little
chapel, where the mourners are ranged, torch
in hand, and at the altar the robed priests are
chanting the service for a departed soul. An
old man stands near, but his face is buried in his
cloak ; and in the midst, laid upon an open bier,
is the fair Rosamond. The decent shroud hides
that perfect form ; and two long braids of hair,
parted on the white forehead, extend their length
even to her feet. Death has not yet subdued the
VOL. III. H
146 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
beauty of that angel face ; it has come upon it like
a lovely sleep, but sad, very sad, for their dying
look is still upon the features. A king is kneeling
by that coffin one who would give his crown to
restore life but for a day to those pale lips to ask
their latest wish to implore pardon and to say
farewell ! In vain King Henry bends in speechless
despair over his victim and his love.
" Every where the same!" exclaimed Fran-
cesca, as she resumed her seat " the same human
misery the same human portion! The loud
wind, which I now hear howling around the battle-
ments, seems but a mighty echo of the universal
plaint wrung from mortal suffering. I would to
Heaven, that if this is to be my chamber, it were
hung with a less mournful history ! A place for
rest and sleep to be perpetually haunted by such
misery as I see pictured there and one grief
ever brings another to mind how many sorrowful
records of my own land does that tapestry recall !
Alas! amid so many instances of ever-recurring
wretchedness, how can I hope that an exception
will be made in my favour ?"
147
CHAPTER XVIII.
" Oh, weary heart, that must within itself
Close all its deepest leaves."
L. E. L.
A FEW days brought time into that general routine
of small observances which make up ordinary
existence ; but never had Francesca felt herself in
a more uncongenial atmosphere. There was a
littleness and an indolence about Lord Avonleigh
which unless concealed by the magic of long
association, when affection is matter of habit
were insuperable barriers to attachment. Had
Francesca grown up by his side, she would have
loved him ; and a thousand indulgences, the result
of careless good-nature, would have linked the
child to the parent, till the mutual affection would
have become a thing of course. But he was not one
whom you could begin to love with the judgment
ripened and the feelings accustomed to examina-
tion. Albert was much more an object of interest ;
148 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
but, with a naturally noble and generous nature,
his faults were precisely of a kind that made daily
life wretched. He was arrogant, petulant, and
self-willed ; every thing was expected to fly before
him ; and though, after an ebullition of passion,
no penitence was held too great on his part, still
the hasty word had been said, the wound inflicted,
and still the offence was soon repeated. One per-
petual source of annoyance, too, was her father's
continual allusion to the Evelyns. He seemed to
hate the name with a hate which was the only
strong feeling he possessed. The truth was, that
he had been humiliated by the superiority of both
father and son ; and with the genuine ingratitude
of a little mind, he could not forgive the kind
offices which he owed to both. Uncertain of what
Robert Evelyn might now feel towards her
sometimes almost tempted, for his sake, to wish
that he might have changed it will easily be
supposed that Francesca's most treasured secret
never passed her lips ah! the solitude but added
to its strength. Deep, unutterably deep, is the
love treasured in the hidden heart, on which the
eye never looks, and of which no tongue ever
tells.
A few days brought Lucy's wedding ; and
Francesca was with her early in the morning.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 149
The important duties of the toilette passed under
her inspection. The white silk dress was her own
gift ; but that was nothing to the attention which
devotee^ itself to the graceful adjustment of its
drapery. It is in our nature to be much more
grateful for that which flatters than for that which
serves us perhaps because the latter implies the
superiority of another, while the former insinuates
our own. The bride looked very pretty with
her golden hair allowed to hang beneath the veil,
and a cheek whose blushes were of the most ortho-
dox brightness ; and the bridegroom appeared as
happy as awkwardness and confusion could indi-
cate. " But after all," thought Francesca, " a wed-
ding is a melancholy affair. How much responsi-
bility is in those few and scarcely audible words
which give away your very life to the keeping of
another! What a sudden change is wrought in
existence ! a change whose consequences none
may foresee. It is standing on the threshold of
youth, and flinging its flowers behind you. The
ideal merges at once in the real, and the drearn,
at least, of love is over. Well if the substance
depart not with the shadow !"
With irrepressible emotion Francesca thought
upon the desolate home now left for the father;
the accustomed music of Lucy's step was gone
150 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
from his floor for ever. When next she trod there,
it would be as a visitor. The long and lonely
evenings that he would have to pass no fair and
cherished face to raise up images of hope and
affection, whenever he chanced to look in its
direction alas! how many other ties must be
broken to link the strong and engrossing one of
love ! She felt this most keenly when, after
Charles Aubyn had led Lucy away, they them-
selves took their departure, and she saw Lawrence
Aylmer walk slowly down the garden with a
loitering step, and saw more than once his hand
dashed across his eyes, as if for him there re-
mained no object in the world. Pity became a
far truer feeling than congratulation.
It is a painful thing to think how the purest
and dearest tie that can exist that which binds
the parent to the child, and the child to the parent
is doomed to sever by the very course of na-
ture : that a new and vivid emotion will inevitably
enter the heart of youth and before that emo-
tion, how cold and faint seems all that was held
precious before ! And yet, so inextricably blended
are happiness and sorrow on our earth, that fortu-
nate, thrice fortunate, are they who have such ties
to sever.
" You seem quite out of spirits to-day," said
FRANCESCA CARRARA. J51
Lord Avonleigh, when they met at supper. " But
never mind, Francesca I dare say we shall be
able to find you a husband in England.'*
Is there aught more provoking than the mis-
interpretation of our saddest thoughts? How-
ever, Francesca forced a smile, and endeavoured
to answer the raillery in which he continued to
indulge, while her spirits felt more and more de-
pressed at every word. What an extraordinary
mental delusion jesting is that sort of laboured
vivacity which fancies it is pointed when it is only
personal ; and more extraordinary still, it is always
the resource of stupid people. " Take any shape
but that!" is what I always feel tempted to exclaim
when dulness attempts a joke ; striving to pervert
some poor innocent and ill-used word from its
lawful meaning till it ceases to have any at all
worrying some unfortunate idea till, like the
hunted hare, it is worried to death dealing in
witticisms whose edge has long since been worn
off by constant use ; and truly, to the many, wittir
cisms not only require to be explained, like riddles,
but are also like new shoes, which people re-
quire to wear many times before they get accus-
tomed to them. No, let the generality inflict
upon you histories of themselves and their kind,
even to the third and fourth generation let them
152 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
talk of their feelings, when they mean their temper
let them, for the hundred and fiftieth time,
dilate on the lovers who made the delight of their
youth, or the receipts which make the glory of
their age let them even give advice let them
do any thing but jest " the power of patience
can no farther go."
It is said that the name of Love is often taken
in vain, compelled to stand godfather to feelings
with which he has nothing to do, and made
answerable for all the faults and follies which
interest, vanity, and idleness commit while mas-
querading under such semblance. Wit is just as
much put upon blamed for a thousand imperti-
nences over which it would not have held for a
moment its glittering shield ; it is like the radiant
fairy doomed to wander over earth, concealed and
transformed, and only allowed on rare occasions
to shine forth in its true and sparkling form. It
is well that wit is an impalpable and ethereal sub-
stance, or it must long since have evaporated in
indignation at that peculiarly wretched and mis-
taken race, its imitators.
153
CHAPTER XIX.
Bring flowers, pale flowers, o'er the bier to shed ;
A crown for the brow of the early dead."
THE next morning Francesca was seated at one of
the windows with her father, occasionally talking
in the hope of amusing him, but often allowing
her attention to be drawn to the scene before her.
It was the atmosphere and heaven of summer
redeeming the winter spread over the earth just
one of those glad and genial days with which
November sometimes delights to mock itself. The
sky was of that deep rich blue which is brought
out so vividly by the few scattered white clouds,
whose vapours are soft as if dew, not rain, were
gathered in those snowy masses. Beneath, the
grass of the park was of the brightest emerald,
while the sunbeams chased one another over the
undulating herbage, as if rejoicing in their pro-
longed dominion, and unwilling to waste one
H2
154 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
moment of their brief and brilliant empire. The
lake lay before them sparkling and silvery, and the
eye could just catch the swans, outlined in light,
not shadow, in their graceful progress over their
own domain. The majority of the trees were
leafless, but many yet wore a cheerful array of
green. The holly upreared its shining leaves
the ivy drooped from the older stems, a dream of
their once lovely youth and the mistletoe crept
round many of the oaks that pleasant parasite,
whose associations belong rather to the hearth and
lighted hall than to its native branches. The gay
singing of the birds came wakened by the soft
west wind ; and immediately before the window,
a robin, with its scarlet plumage and dear soft
eye, was picking up the crumbs which Francesca
had flung- from the breakfast-table.
o
Nor did the scene lack human life and human
action. In the foreground Albert was trying the
mettle of a horse that had been a recent purchase.
The eye of father and sister alike forgot every
other object while watching the evolutions of the
young and graceful boy, who realised the descrip-
tions of romance as, his golden curls dancing on
the wind, his cheek flushed with exercise, and his
large blue eyes dilated and flashing with triumph,
he ruled the snow-white palfrey by a wave of the
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 155
hand and an imperceptible pressure of the knee.
It seemed as if the docile creature intuitively di-
vined his will. Francesca looked from the youth
to the fair domain which was his portion : it was
but a moment, and her attention again fixed upon
him but it was mingled now with many sad
questionings of fate. Never before had she seemed
to feel so keenly the inequalities of human allot-
ment. " Why should Guido have perished in his
youth ?" she inwardly exclaimed. " Why should
Robert Evelyn be an exile from the home of his
fathers? and why should I be doomed to waste
the best years of my life, and the deepest feelings
of my heart, in anxiety and neglect, while fortune
lavishes every gift upon a favourite ? Albert has
never known a real care nor a real sorrow ; and
every earthly advantage conspires to the promise
of his future. Alas ! how much is there in life of
which he little dreams! arid God forbid that its
bitterest lessons should ever come within his expe-
rience ! May that brow long wear its present glad
openness, and those clear eyes long remain un-
shadowed ! Methinks they are their own omen."
While this train of thoughts were passing in
her mind, a favourite greyhound was seen coursing
rapidly through the park. Catching at once a sight
of his master, the dog came bounding forwards,
156 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
and sprung up at the horse's side. The palfrey
was startled, and dashed off at full gallop.
" How gallantly he sits ! " exclaimed Lord
Avonleigh, as the agile figure of his son cut through
the air, till the eye was dazzled with the rapidity
of the motion. A moment after, a cry broke from
the lips of both. The horse rushes under the
drooping boughs of an old oak the young rider
reels in his seat the bridle falls from his grasp
his arms extend helplessly and the next bound
flings him to the earth. Neither Francesca nor
Lord Avonleigh dared to exchange glances, but
both sprung forwards and ran to the place, where
the palfrey, panting and trembling as if with
some mysterious instinct of evil, stood beside the
prostrate corse for corse it was! In one short
instant the hope of youth had been laid low and
the beautiful temple, where a parent had gar-
nered up all that made life precious, was dust
and ashes. There he lay, his face turned towards
them, pale as a statue, but sweet as sleep. The
sudden summons had assuredly been unfelt
the only sign was a slight wound on the fair fore-
head, whence trickled a small stream of blood,
which had already reddened the bright ringlets
and the green grass. Lord Avonleigh stood as if
the same blow had struck him also conscious
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 157
that a weight of horror was upon him, hut stunned
by an agony too great to bear. Francesca sunk
on her knees, and raised the inanimate head in
her arms. At first she did not believe the worst ;
but she looked on those white set features and
knew there was an end of all !
The servants now crowded round, and carried
the body to the house. Lord Avonleigh followed
mechanically ; but he staggered, and his daughter
offered to support him. Almost fiercely he re-
pulsed her aid, and walked on with a hurried
and uncertain step. Poor Francesca! the bitter-
ness which swelled in her heart! " He is no father
in his love towards me ! "
The leech was summoned when they reached
the Castle. He could but give one look at the
piteous spectacle and turn away : the father needed
his skill the son no more.
" Let the horse and the hound be destroyed at
once!" were Lord Avonleigh's only words; and
that order given, he sought the chamber where
they had laid his child, and throwing himself on
the bed, gave way to the wildest expressions of
despair. Francesca knelt she wept at his feet,
and implored him to have pity on his own soul ;
but it was in vain. About midnight he slept,
exhausted with his own violence slept beside the
extended corse !
158 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
It was a fearful vigil that Francesca kept for
the office of watching in the chamber of death she
had taken upon herself. How often, during her
young life, had she looked upon the face of the
dead ! it was now almost more familiar than the
living. Again she marked the still repose, the calm,
cold hue, the superhuman beauty, the look which is
not of this world, here strongly contrasted by the
troubled countenance of Lord Avonleigh. Sleep
lacked the quiet of death. The veins were swollen
on his temples the dew rose on his knit brow
his cheek was livid, not pale and the inward
struggle convulsed every feature. The torches
flung round their long and fantastic shadows,
while the wind howled amid the battlements
a wild, shrieking wind, like a great cry of nature's
agony. Yet there the young Italian waited and
watched alone, dreading her ghastly solitude, but
dreading still more the despair of her father's
awakening. And terrible indeed was that awaken-
ing : it was the desperate grief of the prosperous,
who have not dreamed that the arrows of calamity
can be pointed at them whose sky has been sun-
shine, arid whose pathway over flowers, till the
ordinary lot of mankind seems to them an injus-
tice. They look not to drink of that cup which
is measured unto all to others they apply the
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 159
rule, and to themselves the exception. But, alas
for the graceful and noble boy, on whom nature and
fortune had lavished every gift but to make a
richer prize for death! How many lofty hopes,
how many generous emotions, how many joyous
aspirings, were quenched in that unfulfilled des-
tiny! That young heart had had no time to
harden that young soul no time to chill; warm
and fresh, true and kindling, they went down to
the grave, all trace of paradise not worn away in
the brief career.
" Whom the gods love die young," is one of the
truths taught by the old Greek ^oets those poets
half sage, half seer. And methinks, that though
tears are shed abundantly when the coffin-lid
presses down some fair and bright head, we were
wiser did we keep those tears for the living. Let the
young perish in their hour of promise how much
will they be spared ! passion, that kindles but to
consume the heart, and leaves either vacancy or
regret, a ruin or a desert ; ambition, that only
reaches its goal to find it worthless when gained,
or but the starting-place for another feverish race,
doomed again to end in disappointment ; enemies
that cross us at every step ; friends that deceive
and what friends do not? the blighted hope, the
embittered feeling, the wasted powers, the re-
160 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
morse, and the despair, all these are spared by
the merciful, the early grave.
The week passed, with its days, like ghosts,
flitting by in silence and awe, till at length came
the evening when Albert Lord Stukeley was to be
laid to the long last sleep of his ancestry. The red
glare of the tapers flung a strange unnatural hue
on the painted windows of the little Gothic chapel,
where none slept save the noble of name, and the
high of blood purple and crimson, the colours
mingled together in fantastic combinations, till the
rainbow-hued figures seemed to move with super-
natural life. The* banners hung from the roof,
frail and faded memorials of a glory which now
formed the archives of a house, instead of the
history of a nation. Tablet and escutcheon were
suspended from the walls; and below were the
sculptured tombs, each with its marble effigy.
Here was the armed knight, his head upon his
shield, his foot on his hound, the image having
long survived the original ; the one yet gave a
stern likeness of humanity, the other was now
but a handful of dust, ready to be dispersed by
the first breath of air that might penetrate its
carved sepulchre. How much of empty distinc-
tion above mocked the nothingness below ! Here
was the storied trophy, the blazoned arms, the
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 161
name, with its array of titles the inscription, with
its long flattery ; and there was only the moulder-
ing bones, and the dank vapour. God of heaven !
how mortality mocks itself! how far extends the
solemnity of its foolishness, the vain-gloriousness
of its delusion ! The living console themselves by
the honours which they pay to the dead; and
yet this self-deceit is not all in vain. Every feel-
ing that looks to the future elevates human nature ;
for life is never so low or so little as when it con-
centrates itself on the present. The miserable
wants, the small desires, and the petty pleasures
of daily existence have nothing in common with
those mighty dreams which, looking forward for
action and action's reward, redeem the earth over
which they walk with steps like those of an angel,
beneath which spring up glorious and immortal
flowers. The imagination is man's noblest and
most spiritual faculty ; and that ever dwells on the
to-come.
But to return to the Gothic chapel, and its
mournful solemnities. A strain of music rever-
berated along the arches as a gloomy train en-
tered, faces and shapes alike hidden in their black
and sweeping garments. In the midst was the
coffin, covered with a white velvet pall, on which
was embroidered a golden border of the arms of
162 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
the house of Avonleigh. The lid was closed
human eye had looked its last on that young and
beloved face. That glance would dwell on the
memory for ever, pale, calm, and unearthly.
Well that it should be so ; for who could bear to
have their midnight haunted by the vision of cor-
ruption ? The music ceased ; slowly the bearers
deposited their burden before the altar; and the
deep melodious voice of Charles Aubyn was heard
repeating the holy words which sanctify the act
that restores the corse to its mother earth. Lord
Avonleigh sat at the head of the coffin, and, in
the negligence of sorrow, his cloak had fallen to
the ground, and his countenance, fixed and rigid
with despair, was fully given to view. It was
awful for suffering in its extreme is awful to
mark how a few days had changed him. Fran-
cesca knelt at his side, but he turned not towards
her ; and mute and motionless she listened to the
service only an occasional large bright drop fall-
ing through her closed hands told that she was
weeping. The voice of the reader paused for a
moment. Again the bearers took up the coffin,
and cold and damp the subterranean air came from
the opened vault. The tapers were lowered, and
shed a ghastly light 011 the rows of piled coffins,
and the moisture glittering on the walls. A
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 163
shudder ran through the assembly as all looked
towards that drear receptacle.
" One moment!" said Lord Avonleigh, in a low
hoarse whisper : " that boy perished for my sin,
I feel, I know that his death was a judgment
upon me. Let him be the inanimate witness of
an atonement that comes too late. Francesca
Stukeley, I here entreat your forgiveness of the
wrong which I have done you, prompted by my
dear love for him who is no more. Cruelly has
Providence visited it upon me. In the presence
of the dead and of the living, I acknowledge you
as my only lawful child ! "
A murmur of astonishment ran through the
chapel. It was hushed instantly, for, at a sign
from Lord Avonleigh, the coffin was carried into
the vault ; and again the voice of the priest was
the only sound, breathing the last and solemn
benediction of the mournful obsequies.
164
CHAPTER XX.
" He who commands me to mine own content,
Commands me to the thing I cannot find."
SHAKESPEARE.
WE must entreat our readers to suppose that the
following few winter months glided away in all
the unmarked monotony of usual existence. How
little does what we wished fulfil, when realised,
what we expected. But a brief period passed,
and Francesca would have helfl that her present
position was all that could be dreamed all that
could be desired. Acknowledged child of a noble
house heiress to its name, and to its wealth
young and beautiful it was as if some good fairy
had stood godmother to her fortune. So much for
the outward seeming. But whoso had paused
here had left the story but half told. Young she
was, but the buoyancy of youth had departed from
her for ever her spirits were broken by care,
sorrow, and the frequent presence of death ; beau-
tiful, but she was not vain, and what recked she
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 165
of the fair face on which one beloved eye seemed
never fated to rest again ? Rank she had ; but he
to whom it equalled her was now an exile ; and
wealth but what of that, unless it could be
shared with Robert Evelyn? Alas, how little
chance did there seem to be of their ever meeting !
He had been excepted by name from the general
amnesty would never, in all human probability,
hear of his brother's treachery and could look
upon her in no other light than as ungrateful
and inconstant. She had not the poor comfort of
thinking that he dwelt upon her memory, even
in heart they were separated.
Drearily did the winter exhaust itself, equally
without interest and without occupation. It was
obvious that Lord Avonleigh considered the past
entirely expiated by his tardy acknowledgment;
he had given justice, but his daughter also asked
affection that he gave not, and indeed had it not
to give. He associated her in idea with his lost son,
and, by a strange and unjust connexion, in a degree
reproached her as the cause of his bereavement.
Common minds always blame some one or other for
every misfortune that happens ; complaint relieves
them, and their style of complaint is always per-
sonal. And yet it was wonderful how he got over
the loss ; he soon fell into his ordinary round of
166 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
employments and amusements, s^oke of going to
Whitehall in the spring, and dwelt with increasing
animation on his hopes of a marquisate. When
he talked of Albert, it was rather talking at Fran-
cesca, as if she were to be made responsible for the
death of her brother. Ah, that talking at ! only
those who have suffered from it can understand its
wearing and petty misery, especially when placed
in circumstances which forbid reply.
We are eloquent about oppression on a large
scale, we deprecate the tyranny of government,
which, after all, extends but to few ; and yet how
little pity is bestowed upon those who suffer from
that worst of tyranny in daily practice in daily life.
What grievances would not most family histories
disclose! how much comfort is put aside how
much kindly feeling wasted, by the arbitrary
cruelties of temper ! I say cruelties ; for what
torture of rack or wheel can equal that of words ?
Take the annals of the majority of hearths for a
twelvemonth, and we should be amazed at the
quantity of wretchedness that would be writ in
them, if writ truly.
Francesca felt every hour more keenly the
pain of her unappreciated affection, of her un-
valued existence. All the higher faculties of her
mind lay utterly dormant. No one entered into
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 167
her emotions, no one took note of her thoughts.
The atmosphere of indifference clipped her round
like a prison, hut from which there was no escape.
No imagination could defy the dull monotony in
which days upon days wore away. It was some
relief to go and see Lucy, who was practising
domestic felicity as it is practised at first. It is
not in the deep passion, the keen feeling, the
thoughtful mind, that are sown the seeds of earthly
enjoyments. They are flowers that take root best
in the light soil.
Lucy was the beau ideal of simple content
delighted with her husband, delighted with her
house, finding a little accession of dignity in the
idea of being married, and having already dis-
covered that servants were a great trouble, it
being scarcely possible to get good ones a com-
plaint which, we believe, is the usual after-dinner
talk of all married ladies even in our own time.
Francesca thought Charles Aubyn a little more
wearisome in his capacity of husband than he had
been in that of lover ; perhaps because he addressed
more of his discourse to herself. He had now to
do the honours of his house ; and he conceived
that he supported the dignity of the clerical cha-
racter by long statements of his own opinions,
exaggerated and confused enongh ; but listened to
168 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
by his pretty wife with a face of charmed atten-
tion.
Well, nature makes some wise provisions, it
must be confessed. We should be envious of
other's happiness if, in nine cases out of ten, we
did not despise it. Francesca felt Lucy's pleasant
lot ; but felt, also, that such would not have suited
herself.
In the meantime, Lord Avonleigh found a
wonderful resource in being loyal ; he attended
county meetings, denounced the Puritans, discou-
raged conventicles, discountenanced long graces
or long sermons, and was seized with a sudden
veneration for the church as established by law,
which led to fines and imprisonment on all ab-
sentees from worship as ordained by law. Hitherto
the commanding influence of Sir Robert Evelyn's
character had sunk his own into insignificance
now he had no " rival near the throne," alias the
bench of county magistrates. It was amazing how
much more discontent, however, accrued under
the management of the good-natured Lord Avon-
leigh, than under the resolved, nay, somewhat
stern Sir Robert Evelyn. The truth is, the one
never swerved one inch from what he held to be
the right ; while the other had a thousand whims,
favourites, prejudices, and interests, all to be gra-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 169
tified or conciliated. Complaints became of daily
recurrence, and it was said that a great portion of
the tenants on the Evelyn estate contemplated
emigration on a large scale. But the Castle was
not destined to remain long in its present quietude.
One morning Lord Avonleigh received a packet
from London, whose contents filled him with joy,
which he could not communicate in too great
haste. It contained a letter from the King him-
self, craving hospitality for a few days, as his
mother was about to visit England, and to take
up with Lord Avonleigh her residence at the
Castle. A slight incognito would be preserved,
and as little form and ceremony expected as
was possible. Language was quite inadequate to
express the Earl's feelings on the occasion ; he
was a marquess already in idea, and the Castle
itself was soon in as great confusion as his own
thoughts, for no preparations seemed to be suffi-
cient. Hitherto the recent death of Lord Stukeley
had rendered seclusion necessary; but the now
comforted parent was not sorry to have a decent
pretext for enlivening a solitude very uncongenial
to his taste. Among other names on their list of
visitors was that of the Comtesse de Soissons.
How many recollections were connected with that
name ! However unkindly neglected by that early
VOL. III. I
170 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
friend, still her image wa^associated with all that
had been most interesting in Francesca's life ; and
so little had she now to love, that she looked for-
ward, not only with forgiveness of the past, but
even with pleasure to a renewal of their former
feelings. Ah ! the past is the true source of con-
fidence. We must recollect together before we
can confide.
171
CHAPTER XXI.
" You're very welcome."
SHAKESPEARE.
THE change which had so suddenly elevated
Charles Stuart to the throne of his ancestors, and,
from a poor, wandering, and powerless exile, made
him one of Europe's most powerful monarchs, had
taken the various courts where he had sojourned,
neglected, if not contemned, completely by surprise.
None saw the error more clearly than Mazarin ;
and none, therefore, were more prompt to repair
it ; while no one could be less troubled with any
false delicacy which might suggest that the change
was somewhat barefaced, nor so little deterred by
any scruples lest the interested motives should be
too apparent. Laughing openly and secretly at
the principles which he called prejudices very
good for the many, but never meant for the few
flattery and bribery were the two great levers by
which mankind were to be moved ; and if these
] 72 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
failed, why it must be set down, not to him, but
to Fate.
" Would to St. Peter," he sometimes ex-
claimed, " that the offices of priest and prophet
had been united, as of old, in my person ! My
niece would now be Queen of that island, whose
worst fault is that it never knows its own mind,
and whose politics are as uncertain as its climate.
France would now have an ally, instead of an
enemy that has hitherto been a thorn in her side.
Well, well, who can foresee the impossible? and
impossible it appeared to all rational calculation
that these raving fanatics should suddenly veer
round, and become as mad on loyalty as they
were 011 doctrine. We must do what we can ;
beauty and gold can still accomplish much, or his
recent majesty has strangely altered."
To form a strict alliance between the cabinets
of Paris and London which meant, that he should
influence both, to induce Charles to marry the
loveliest of his nieces, Hortense thus making a
common interest between them, were now the
great objects with the Cardinal ; and the present
visit was of his projecting. The Queen Mother,
Henrietta, was strongly in the French interest.
Nothing ever seems to have taught her the cha-
racter of the English nation ; and at this very
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 173
time she considered an alliance with France as
Charles's best security for remaining on what she
thought his most uncertain throne. The marriage,
too, met her approval ; the dower offered was
enormous ; and she was, moreover, influenced by
the present flattery of the Mazarin family ; and
intending, as she did, to fix her residence in
France, there might be a little private wish to
conciliate, on her part, the powers that were.
There was another motive, too, the most powerful
of all she was devotedly attached to the young
princess, her only daughter; and the lure held
out, of her marriage with Monsieur, was the
strongest inducement to secure her warmest efforts
in a cause likely to promote a project so dear
to her hopes. Madame de Soissoris attended
her, for the Cardinal thought he could trust her
talents for intrigue. Moreover, her going was a
sufficient reason for Hortense accompanying her ;
and Mazarin hoped as much from her beautiful
face as from all the other potent reasons with
which he had charged his negotiators.
In the Queen Mother's suite was Lord Craven,
one of those most devoted lovers who sometimes
illumine the page of history with an episode which
seems taken from the olden chronicles of chivalry.
It is the fate of some women to inspire those deep
174 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
yet picturesque attachments, which, amid all the
ordinary prose of life, need to be well authenticated
to be believed. Henriette was one of these ; poetry
records nothing more ideal than the passion with
which she inspired Lord Craven, who sought the
Holy Land to forget the too lovely queen, and only
returned to his own to risk his life in her service.
Even now, faded by age, but still more by sorrow,
Lord Craven esteemed existence but given to be
spent in her service his time, his wealth, were
lavished for her sake. We need only add the name
of the Chevalier de Joinville, as Francesca's old
acquaintance, and leave the rest unmentioned. -
The whole party left Dieppe early, and a
favourable wind soon carried them across the
Channel. Yet they had to pass the Isle of Wight,
which held Carisbrook Castle, that melancholy
prison which Charles I. only left for that drearier
cell which was but the passage to the scaffold.
Lord Craven, however, contrived that they should
be in the cabin when the island appeared in sight.
The Queen knew nothing of the environs, and
it was dusk when they landed. Lord Avonleigh
was in anxious attendance carriages were ready
for the whole suite lamps and torches were soon
k incited and they arrived at his residence about
midnight. It had a noble effect, as a hundred at-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 175
tendants, each with torch in hand, lined the avenue,
whose yet leafless boughs were dark with night if
not with foliage. The red glare on their path but
made more beautiful the silvery moonlight, which
rested unbroken on the park around, across which
bounded the deer, roused from their quiet sleep
by the unwonted intrusion on the silent night. A
blaze of fireworks kindled the whole atmosphere,
while the stately battlements shone distinct as at
noon, when the Queen alighted ; and at the foot
of the flight of steps which led to the hall, Fran-
cesca was in waiting at the head of the female
attendants. She knelt while her father presented
her.
" Nay !" exclaimed Henriette, " I cannot allow
homage where I would only receive kindness."
Lord Avonleigh accepted the gracious speech
with a due return of acknowledgment. They
passed on, and his daughter was left to do the
honours of welcome to the other guests. The light
of the illuminated arch raised above fell direct on
her face ; and, attirecj in the splendour which
suited her own rank and the occasion, never per-
haps had she appeared to greater advantage.
Her long black hair was left, according to the
fashion then prevalent the more prevalent from
the complete contrast which it offered to the close
176 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
cap arid banded tresses of the Puritans to flow
in rich masses down her neck, only knotted by
strings of diamonds, while a bandeau of the same
precious stones crossed her forehead. Her robe
was of violet satin, embroidered in black and
silver ; her stomacher shone with brilliants set in
jet ; and in one hand she held a fan formed of
black feathers, confined in the middle with a
diamond star.
Madame de Soissons and Lord Craven were
the first of the company, and she stepped forward
to receive them with the grave courtesy necessary ;
but her eye rested on the face of the Comtesse with
a glance of recognition.
" Mon Dieu! is it possible?" exclaimed her
visitor.
" Yes how much I have to tell you !" whis-
pered she, as she advanced to receive the others.
Astonishment was never more legibly written
than in the Chevalier de Joinville's countenance
when Francesca's smile confirmed her identity.
He made no remark, but followed to the banquet-
ting-room, which had been prepared with the
utmost splendour. A canopy of crimson velvet,
heavy with a deep fringe of gold, was placed over
the dais, where the Queen was standing, having
refused to sit till her young hostess appeared ;
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 177
and then she made Francesca take her place at
her side.
" Surely we have met before?" said she, in a
low tone, the first moment that Lord Avonleigh's
attention was forced to his other guests.
" Yes, your Grace," replied Francesca, " at
Compeigne."
" Believe me, I have not forgotten your kind-
ness," whispered Henriette. " Alas! our service
has indeed been fatal. Would to God that you
were not the only one to whom gratitude can now
be shewn!"
Francesca could not control her embarrassment.
She perceived immediately that the Queen alluded
to Francis Evelyn, and to their supposed attach-
ment.
" I have been placed," said she at last, rally-
ing her faculties, " all my life in most peculiar
circumstances. One favour I will dare to implore
of your Grace silence."
" Poor child ! " said the Queen, pressing her
hand in token of assent.
Here, to Francesca' s great relief, the conversa-
tion was interrupted ; for her father held the royal
notice too precious to be engrossed even by his
own daughter.
I remember reading a story, where some royal
i2
178 PRANCESCA CARRARA.
dowager utterly powerless, be it observed re-
sides in a small tranquil town, where she believes
the golden age to be very respectably represented.
Suddenly the calm current of their ordinary ex-
istence is disturbed by a visit from the reigning
monarch ; all the little, mean, and malevolent
passions vices, we should rather say engendered
of vanity and vexation of spirit, rise at once to
the surface of the troubled waters troubled by the
demon of ambition ; and the poor princess is left
in mute dismay, to wonder what has become of
the humility, the independence, and the content
which she had so rashly eulogised.
Francesca was in much the same position with
regard to her father. Accustomed to see him
irritable and indifferent, she could scarcely believe
the courtier, full of flattery and empressement, who
seemed to consider himself and household but
created for the Queen Henriette's pleasure.
Yet the banquet went off heavily. In the
minds of some, now for the first time during many
years treading their native shore, the past pre-
dominated ; it was impossible to fix the thoughts
on any thing but the dark record of blood, suffer-
ing, crime, and death, written on the last few
years. Others, again Madame de Soissons and
the Chevalier de Joinville, usually the most enter-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 179
taining of the company were silent, fairly over-
powered by intense curiosity ; and the rest were
tired to death.
All were rejoiced when the Queen rose, and,
pleading extreme fatigue, entreated her host's per-
mission to retire. Francesca attended her to her
chamber, received the most flattering thanks and
compliments on her reception, but was not per-
mitted to remain.
The Queen embraced her, saying, " If we may
judge of the exertion by the effect, we are sure
our young hostess must need rest. We lay our
royal commands upon her, that she take it as soon
as possible."
Francesca expressed her deep sense of her
Grace's kind consideration, and left the chamber ;
but rest was the farthest thing in the world from
her thoughts. She was impatient to speak to the
Comtesse de Soissons, for the ties of an old friend-
ship are not easily broken ; and her very sight
brought back a thousand remembrances of their
joyful childhood, and their once confiding youth,
which effectually pleaded the cause of recon-
ciliation.
With her first touch at the door of the dressing-
room it was opened. Marie seemed to have divined
the intended visit, the one felt that she was
180 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
forgiven, and the other that such forgiveness was
welcome. The attendants were dismissed ; and
each, drawing a huge arm-chair to the blazing
hearth, began eagerly to question and reply. A
few words gave the general outline of Francesca's
history, and Marie was warm in her congratula-
tions.
" A veritable princesse de roman ! I must
give Madame de Scuderi the story on my re-
turn. Dearest Francesca, you are situated as you
ought to be ; you look your rank. You were
superbe as you received us at the entrance. We
want nothing but a hero to complete the ro-
mance."
Francesca shook her head mournfully, and
the conversation flagged a little. Marie seemed
to hesitate with some question, which she yet
shrunk from asking. At length, holding up her
handkerchief, as if to screen her face from the
fire, but more to screen it from her companion,
she said, in a low uncertain tone, " I do not see
him here: has Guido returned to Italy?"
" Italy!" replied Francesca, sadly; " do you
not know that he died a few months after our
arrival in England?"
She started from her seat in dismay at the
violent effects which her words produced. Marie
FRANCESCO CARRARA. 181
sprang to her feet, the hair streamed back from
her forehead, the dew stood upon her temples, the
eyes dilated with a wild unnatural glare, while
every tinge of colour perished on lip and cheek.
Some inarticulate words died upon her tongue,
and the next moment she sank insensible at Fran-
cesca's side.
It was long before the united efforts of her
attendants could rouse her from that stony trance;
and when at length she opened her eyes, their
expression was wandering, and her words uncon-
nected. In despair, the leech was summoned ;
and, saying something about excited nerves and
over-fatigue, he administered a sleeping draught ;
and Francesca never left the Comtesse till she saw
her sunk in a profound slumber.
" Strange," thought she, " how love and am-
bition have struggled for empire in that divided
heart ! How this passion of sorrow would have
soothed Guido, could he have believed how keenly
his loss would be felt ! The love which was re-
strained for the living defies control when aroused
for the dead."
182
CHAPTER XXII.
" 'Tis not alone
The human being's pride that peoples space
With pride and mystical predominance."
COLERIDGE.
IT was early the next morning when Francesca
was awakened by the curtains of her bed being
put aside, and the red light of morning fell on
the pale countenance of Madame de Soissons.
" Francesca, dearest !" said she, in a hollow and
constrained voice, " I have a favour to implore.
Lead me to Guide's grave : my soul cannot rest in
peace till I have knelt and prayed beside it."
" Marie," exclaimed Francesca, gradually re-
calling the events of the preceding evening, " you
are in no fit state to meet more agitation. Some
other time."
" Now, now!" interrupted the Comtesse im-
patiently. " All is quiet in the Castle. I entreat
you to accompany me. I know how strange you
must think my conduct; but there there I will
tell you all."
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 183
Francesca made no further opposition ; and
conducting Marie down a small winding staircase,
which led to the garden, they soon found them-
selves in the open air. They had to traverse a
portion of the park, after which they entered the
forest, on whose branches the hawthorn blossom
was just beginning to break, while the first pale
gold was peeping forth on the fern. At the rapid
and excited pace with which Marie walked, they
soon arrived at the churchyard.
" There ! " whispered Francesca, pointing to the
lowly mound which sheltered the last sleep of the
once impassioned and now quiet tenant.
Marie spoke not, but throwing herself on the
ground, bowed her .head upon the wild flowers.
But though her face was hidden, not so were the
convulsive sobs which shook her whole frame.
For a time Francesca turned away and wept ;
all her own sorrow came back fresh upon her
heart as she thought how sweet during life would
have been that affection so vain and so violent
after death !
Marie's tears ceased at length from absolute
exhaustion ; and allowing Francesca to raise her
from the earth, they sat down together beside the
grave.
" Do you think he has forgiven me?" said
184 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
the Comtesse, suddenly : " methinks all looks so
calm and so lovely, that earth has no wrong that
might not here be forgotten." And she almost
spoke truth ; for beautiful was the mingled repose
and animation of the scene.
It was yet very early, and the crimson flush of
daybreak still lingered in some of the floating
clouds. A silvery haze veiled the more distant
landscape melting, however, fast before the sun-
beams, which were filled with that clear yet
gentle light which belongs only to the first few
hours of day. Deep yet soft shadows fell from
every tree ; but the sun shone full on the old
church, turning the narrow panes of its glittering
windows into molten and wavy gold ; and kindling
the clustering ivy, till every broad and smooth leaf
was a mirror silvered with the dew. The air was
musical with the singing of innumerable birds,
the fragrance of the first violets came upon the
wind, and the last primroses spread their pale
beauty over Guido's tomb.
" It was on the third day of - that Guido
died," said Marie.
" How ever do you know so accurately?" ex-
claimed Francesca, astonished ; " I thought you
said last night you were till then unacquainted
with my bitter, my heavy loss ?"
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 185
" I knew not of his death till I came to Eng-
land ; but now I, but you will mock me yet
surely not here. I will tell you all. That night
I saw Guido as distinctly as I see you you, in
this open daylight, and before blessed heaven. I
was alone, when I saw his sad and reproachful
eyes, his pale and beautiful countenance, grow as
it were on the air. A strange horror came over
me, and I fainted ; but the recollection is as actual
as any other circumstance of my existence. Shall
I tell you the truth? The first awe passed away
I firmly believed that, by some inscrutable means,
he had gained access, and deemed it best to pre-
serve strict silence on the subject ; but now I
know it was no living form that passed before
me!" And again Marie *hid her face in her
hands, while Francesca was too oppressed to
speak : she remembered the terror that had been
upon her previous to Guido's death.
" We will not talk of it," she whispered, in
a faint voice ; " there are mysteries on which it
is not good to dwell. I feel deep within my in-
most heart, that now his rest is dreamless and
unbroken."
For a little while longer they sat in silence,
when suddenly the Comtesse, whose burst of pas-
sionate agony had subsided into almost unconscious
186 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
weeping, snatched up a handful of the wild flowers
on the grave they were wet with her tears.
" What a weak, inconsistent fool am I ! The
sun in a few hours will dry all traces of this heart-
wrung moisture from the glistening leaves ; and
so will the glare of my busier life efface the traces
of this emotion from my own memory at least,
if remembered during an occasional sad and lonely
hour, I shall not be the less immersed in the plea-
sures, the interests, the thousand small hopes and
fears of the day."
" It avails little," answered Francesca, " to
dwell upon the past/'
" You are right," interrupted Marie; " the
present is every thing."
" Nay," returned "the other, " I meant not to
make so sweeping an assertion."
" But I did," continued Madame de Soissons.
" Of the past, to be very candid, I am a little
ashamed. The future is but a chance ; but the
present let me be amused, flattered, successful in
ninety-nine out of my hundred projects (I need
an occasional stimulus) and I shall get through
life as pleasantly, or rather more so, than most
persons. Let us forget this morning. I was wrong
in yielding to an impulse, which is quite contrary
to my system. It is a great mistake, cultivating
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 187
what are called feelings. Encourage your vanities,
your follies, your wishes, and you lay up per-
petual sources of delight in their gratification.
But feeling ! why cherish the serpent that will
sting, and the fire that will consume dreaming
of a return which is never made, and of some im-
possible happiness which never comes ?"
" And yet," replied Francesca, " there is that
in the deep or the lofty feeling that redeems itself.
I cannot waste the precious thoughts of my soli-
tude on objects which are utterly unworthy the
petty triumph or the transient amusement."
" Oh!" cried the Comtesse, laughing, " I
cry you mercy, if you come to the romantic
imaginings of which solitude is the inexhaustible
mother. I know that my own is the very worst
company I can be in, and I therefore fly from it
as much as possible."
" We shall never agree," replied Francesca.
" The life in which you are involved would weary
me to death."
" Nevertheless," exclaimed Madame de Sois-
sons, " you must bear it for the next week,
during which we intend to trespass on your hos-
pitality. There will be time enough for your king
to have his head turned by my pretty sister, and
for you to develope the incipient inclination of De
188 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
Joinville, who will find his former admiration of
the beautiful Italian greatly revived by discovering
her to be the heiress of ' a certain fair castle.' Her
Grace and Lord Craven will offer and accept les
hommages, like the stately lovers of the good old
days; and I why, where there are human beings
I can never lack entertainment. But let us return
home. I have taken up too much of my hostess's
time ; and the toilette is one of those imperative
duties whose neglect few circumstances can ex-
tenuate, and none justify."
She passed her arm through her friend's, and
led her from the churchyard. As the little gate
swung after them, she started and looked back.
For the last time, she caught sight of Guide's
grave. She turned hastily away, and walked
rapidly down the path which led to the forest ;
but she walked in silence ; and though her face
was averted, Francesca could occasionally see the
tears glistening as the sunshine touched her cheek.
189
CHAPTER XXIII.
" The royal marriage has engrossed all tongues."
BEFORE they met next morning, the Chevalier de
Joinville had learned as much of Francesca's his-
tory as was known in the Castle. It is wonderful
what a talent some people have for extracting
information, and combining it when extracted
how one fact is made to elucidate another, and
the conclusion inferred from evidence fine as the
spider's thread ! It is a pity that this genius should
he wasted on the events of ordinary life. Half the
ingenuity lavished on news by news we mean
the topics of the day as connected with their own
circle half this ingenuity would set up a whole
Society of Antiquaries, and immortalise at least a
dozen of them.
The Chevalier possessed in its perfection that
happy art which illuminates the known by the
imaginative, and in such light discovers the actual.
190 FBANCESCA CARRARA.
Having satisfied his curiosity, he had only another
desire to gratify, viz. that of communication.
Just now his sphere was somewhat limited; for,
from their terms of familiarity, he might infer that
Madame de Soissons knew all he could tell and
the fair Hortense was preoccupee et distraite. Lord
Craven was engaged with the Queen ; and to Fran-
cesca herself, he had too much tact not to know,
that beyond a brief congratulation, the less he said
the better. However, he promised himself ample
dedommagement, when he returned to Paris ; and
in the mean time he shared the usual lot of mor-
tals that is, he lived on expectation. Ah ! what
would life be without its perspective. Still he had
a little present enjoyment how much he had to
tell of all that had occurred in France during
Francesca's absence!
After a long and magnificent breakfast, the
Queen well aware that, next to themselves and
their own merits, people are most alive to those
observed in their houses and lands proposed
to Lord Avonleigh that he should shew them his
superb palace; and a happy man was he while
'doing the honours of old tapestries, carved cornices^
and portraits in mail armour, or silks nearly as
stiff.
At length the beautiful morning tempted the
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 191
whole party into the open air ; and, while walking
up and down the terrace, the Chevalier easily
contrived to engross Francesca's ear. After a few
compliments and acknowledgments, the conversa-
tion naturally reverted to Paris ; and Francesca
soon found that she was as ready to make in-
quiries as De Joinville was ready to answer them.
" In good truth," replied he to some question,
" one single subject has engaged all our atten-
tion we have asked, we have heard, we have
dreamed of nothing but his Majesty's marriage.
The Cardinal declared, that the alliance having
given peace to France, he should die content
the Queen Mother, that the hope of her life having
been realised, she could die content too. I began
to be alarmed lest the whole world, fancying it
could never find a finer opportunity, might also
come to an end in
' One last great act the winding-up of fate.'
However, the consequences have not been quite so
desperate no one died after all."*
" But the young Queen," asked Francesca
" what is she like?"
" Why she is one of those persons whom nega-
tives seem invented to describe I doubt whether
she is worth one single bad quality."
192 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" Surely," said she, smiling, " that is a de-
ficiency which may readily be pardoned."
" No such thing!" exclaimed he ; " we need
bad qualities to Set off our good ones. A few faults
are indispensable in those with whom we are to
live they are needed to excuse our own. This
sort of dull perfection is a perpetual reproach to
ourselves ; besides, light cannot exist without
shadow. Choose what fault you please ; but, for
pity's sake, have one, if you ever mean to be liked
or loved."
" Still you have not told me if your new Queen
be handsome."
" Ah! I should have known that a lady's is
always a personal question. Well, then, she is
pretty, but it is the mere prettiness of youth
a radiant complexion, and long bright hair. 1
thought her handsomer the first time I saw her in
Spain than I have ever thought her since a sure
sign that she is not beautiful, for nothing grows
upon you more than beauty."
" You have-been in Spain, then, since we last
met?"
" Yes ; I accompanied the embassy sent to
negotiate this very marriage. Such an ambassador
for a love affair as the Bishop of Frejus ! The
King had given him a letter for the Infanta,
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 193
which, however, theatric! etiquette of the Spanish
court forbade her receiving. However, with a
Christian charity worthy of commendation, he
resolved that he would give her the epistle.
Accordingly, on his first interview, he watched his
opportunity, and said, while he held the scroll in
his hand, ' Madam, I have a secret to tell you.'
Now the very word secret is enough to rouse any
one's curiosity ; and, giving a quick glance round to
see if her duennas were on the alert, she prepared
to listen, and I saw that her eye had caught sight of
the letter. Our excellent Bishop continued : * Alas,
my master is not so happy as he believed, for your
father will not allow you to receive this epistle,
which I yet venture to offer/ Can you imagine
aught so stupid as this suggesting the idea of
her father's anger at the very time when his ob-
ject was to make her forget that there was such a
thing as a father in the world? What could he
expect but the answer he received ' I .cannot
take it without permission of the King, my father?'
1 And will you not say one word to his Highness ? '
asked Frejus. ' What I say to the Queen, my
aunt, may also be understood by the King, her
son.' Now, if this was not encouragement, I do
not know what is ; and yet our stupid envoy went
away with the letter still in his possession."
VOL. III. K
194 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" I do not see how he could help it," said
Francesca.
" Help it ! why, he might have dropped it at
her feet, and trusted to her ingenuity for its con-
cealment. Believe me, it is the greatest mistake
ever to ask a consent in such cases. Pray, allow
the fair lady the decent excuse of ' But how could
I help it V"
" Very considerate, indeed," answered .his com-
panion, laughing.
" Nothing could be more splendid than the
marriage ; but l as such details are only interesting
when they are personal, I shall spare you all the
cloth of gold, the embroidery, and the precious
stones, displayed on the occasion, and merely tell
you a pretty comparison made by the young queen.
When her wedding presents, feathers, ribands,
flowers, precious stuffs, &c. &c. were carried past
the Escurial windows, she said, " that they put
her in mind of a moving parterre."
" How did Mademoiselle," asked Francesca,
who remembered all the histories de la ligne which
were uppermost in every one's mind when she
arrived in Paris, " endure the royal marriage, and
see that crown on the brow of another which she
had so long hoped for to encircle her own?"
" Oh, exceedingly well with that best of
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 195
philosophy born of les amusemens et les distrac-
tions. She made a journey incognita to Spain,
and was so full of her own wonderful courage in
venturing across the water in a high wind of con-
tempt for the dress of the Spanish women and,
finally, so intent on the etiquettes of train-bearing,
and calling the Princess Palatine ' ma cousine,'
that the greater interest was lost in a succession
of minor concerns. And now, I believe, little that
is important remains to be told, excepting that for
a whole day the discourse of the court turned on
nothing but the King of Spain's meanness. The
Queen Mother sent him a magnificent clock, where
time sparkled as it passed for it was literally
covered with diamonds ; and the only return made
was a present of some Spanish gloves. I hear
that Anne herself in private avowed her extreme
mortification."
" And now that we have discussed the past,"
said Francesca, " what do you say of the pre-
sent ?"
" Why, that Mazarin will see no niece of his
on the throne of England."
" To promote which design is the object of
this visit."
" And, like many other grand designs, will
be discomfited by a very slight obstacle. Not to
]96 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
offend your loyalty, a pretty face, so well set
(diamonds themselves require to be mounted in
gold), might have its weight with your monarch,
if report speak truth ; but every one of the Man-
cinis have a will of their own, and la belle Hor-
tense will not belie her race. Every age has its
extravagances, and love belongs to her time of
life. A certain Count de Meilleraye has already
obtained a hint of our destination ; he left Paris
before us, and, profiting by his acquaintance with
the Duke of Buckingham, will accompany him
and at sixteen ' famant vaut lien le Roi.' '
" Good Heavens !" exclaimed Francesca, " how
many cross purposes there are in this intricate
game of human life ! We only mock ourselves
by laying down plans for the future at least if
those plans embrace others."
" Whence I draw the conclusion," replied De
Joinville, " that we ought to lay none, saving for
ourselves. It is an old error, but one fruitful in
human disappointment, that we will offer our
services to Providence, and arrange the destinies
of all our relations and half our acquaintances."
" Still, no one can deny that the Cardinal has
been a kind and affectionate relative. His nieces,
at least, have cause to be grateful."
" And of course, as they ought to be, they are
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 197
not. We receive great obligations as if they were
our due, and are thankless as much out of vanity
as ingratitude.
" We will drop this subject, if you please,"
interrupted Francesca ; " they are old friends of
mine, and I at least do not wish to hear of faults
I have no power to amend."
The Chevalier paused, and for a few minutes
they pursued their walk in silence ; but De Join-
ville soon hit on another topic. " I saw an old
friend I can scarcely say, in Paris lately Mr.
Evelyn." Francesca turned pale, and involunta-
rily leant against the balustrade ; with an effort
she muttered a faint " Indeed !" and the Chevalier,
concealing his surprise at her extreme emotion,
added, " but so thin, and so altered, that I think
even you would forgive him could you see him."
t( You are great friends," replied Francesca,
scarcely knowing what she said.
" We were," replied the Chevalier ; " but this
time, when we met by accident in the Boulevards,
-he very quietly looked at me without a symptom
of recognition, and, when I spoke, civilly told me
' that he could not recollect ever having seen me
before.' Of course I took the hint. I saw him
once since, as he was leaving the presence of Car-
dinal Mazarin, and he again passed me in silence.
198 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
He goes into no society, participates in no amuse-
ment, and, verily, seems to be performing as much
penance as even your displeasure could justify."
The Chevalier was evidently confounding the
two brothers, but it could now only be Robert of
whom he was speaking. To undeceive him ap-
peared both impossible and unnecessary at least
at present for a thousand improbable schemes of
communication with Evelyn, through his means,
flashed across Francesca's mind, though only to be
instantly dismissed. To pursue the conversation,
however, on indifferent subjects was now unbear-
able ; her thoughts wandered, and if she still heard
the sound of De Joinville's voice, the sense of his
words was lost upon the air. With much good-
nature he allowed their discourse, or rather his
own, to drop gradually into silence, and employed
himself in wondering if she still loved Evelyn, that
his name could thus move her ; " and if so,"
thought he, " I shall believe in disinterested at-
tachment lasting upon nothing."
But Francesca was not permitted the luxury of
solitude and reflection ; vain was the attempt to
seek her own chamber, and indulge in one quiet
half hour, for at that very moment three cavaliers
rode up the avenue. Lord Avonleigh, first sum-
moning all his household, hurried to receive them.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 199
Francesca noted that the cheek of Hortense bright-
ened, while the brow of her sister darkened, as
they recognised in one of them the Count de
Meilleraye. All individual emotions passed un-
noticed in the general enthusiasm with which the
King for it was he was received as he entered,
leaning on the arm of the Duke of Buckingham.
200
CHAPTER XXIV.
We make ourselves the path wherein we tread."
" WELL, all we can do is to amuse ourselves,"
exclaimed the Comtesse de Soissons, as she leant
back in the large arrn-chair in her dressing-room
that night. " All my uncle's fine matrimonial
projects are vanished into thin air. I see that his
Britannic Majesty will not marry Hortense I see
that Hortense will marry Meilleraye. Business
before pleasure, I am ready to grant; but when
there is none, il faut s'amuser"
" We will do our best," replied Francesca ;
" but I fear, to use a national proverb, you must
take the will for the deed."
" I shall take no such thing," returned Marie ;
" for here the will and the deed rest with myself,
and I am one with whom they always go together."
" You are fortunate."
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 201
" Rather say resolved je veux is life's pass-
port."
" You must not judge of others by yourself;
you will surely allow that your own lot in life has
been a golden one."
" It is of my own gilding, then. My first de-
sign was magnificent, and spoke genius; but it
was rashly conceived and rashly executed. Of
course it was unsuccessful ; but it was not without
profit. Your proverb I will answer with another :
* He who aims at being Pope will die Cardinal
at least/ I lost the heart of Louis, but I gained
the hand of the Comte de Soissons ; and a prince
of the blood royal, rich and manageable, was no
bad beginning for la petite Italienne. Marriage in
real life is the very reverse of what it is in ro-
mances ; we begin where they finish. I felt that a
brilliant marriage was but the very commencement
of my career. To assist my friends (because, if
they hope nothing from you, what have you to hope
from them?) to injure my enemies, for fear is the
best preventive to make a failure useful, if only
in its experience, have been my rules. I can recom-
mend them by that best test, success. Shew me
any one at our court who possesses my influence.
The Queen Mother detests, but she dreads me my
uncle is indifferent, but finds me of use our new
K2
202 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
Queen is already a nonentity and Louis knows
that my house is the most agreeable in Paris."
" No one," said Francesca for good wishes
are as useful as any other form of speech when
you do not know very well what to say, and her's
at least had the merit of being sincere, " can
wish you more success, or more happiness in your
success, than I do."
" I believe you," returned the Comtesse, "which
is what I would say to few. But really, dear Fran-
cesca, I must protest against your extreme sin-
cerity."
" It is my nature/' answered the other, with a
smile.
" And pray, for what was our nature given us
but to change and to control it? I pay truth a
much higher compliment than you do I hold it
too precious to be pressed into the service of every
common occasion."
" But I have not your talents/' replied Fran-
cesca, well aware that argument, when only to be
met by ridicule, is fruitless.
" I admire your modesty; but this quality,
like the one we were just speaking of, is only
useful to ornament our discourse. It is perfectly
judicious to profess both. Let us say how modest
and how candid we are let us even lament over
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 203
an excess in these particulars let us avow that
we often find them in our way but let us not
practise them. People judge us much more by
what we say than by what we do. We are taken
upon our word."
" Whence I infer that we ought to be very
careful of what we say."
" For once we agree words alike make the
destiny of empires and of individuals. Ambition,
love, hate, interest, vanity, have words for their
engines, and need none more powerful. Language
is a fifth element the one by which all the others
are swayed. The king addresses his people, and
the heaviest impost is levied with acclamations
the general harangues his troops, and thousands
rush upon the smoking cannon and the gleaming
bayonets the lover whispers his mistress, and
she forgets even herself for his sake. A word will
part friends, and for ever a word floats down the
stream of time when all else has perished ; in
short, how do we persuade, invent, create, and
live, but by words? they are at once our sub-
jects and our masters. Judicious those who de-
vote at least half their life to their study."
" After all, they are but the outward signs."
" And is not the outside every thing in this
world ?" interrupted Madame de Soissons. " Why,
204 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
we might take a lesson from the very earth on
which we tread. All that is valuable and delight-
ful lies upon its surface."
" You forget ' silver and gold, and heaps of
shining stones.' "
" For which miserable wretches dig into its
depths, and bring thence for the more fortunate.
We might take a lesson from them. Let us pene-
trate beyond the green and flowery crust, and what
do we find? danger and darkness that some
precious things may be brought up, I grant you,
but the seekers perish. I own I have not the in-
terest of others sufficiently at heart to run any
such risks. And now let me apply this image to
human life. I am well content to take the cour-
tesies, flatteries falsehoods, if you will which
grow on the external of society. I wish not to dive
into the depths of envy, hatred, and malice, that
lie below. I never examine but in self-defence."
" I could not," replied Francesca, " be con-
tented with a friend whose thoughts were concealed
from me, or with a lover whose feelings I did not
at least believe were all laid open to my know-
ledge."
" But I do not go about the world with such
improbable expectations of love and friendship as
you do. I expect from my lover, first, flattery ;
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 205
*
secondly, falsehood. I know I am very charming,
but nothing in this world lasts not even my
fascination. In a little while, my dark eyes, my
pretty hands, and my white teeth, will become
too well known for admiration. We actually do
not see what we see often. After a time, he will
have heard every . thing witty I have to say : a
repeated epigram is like a broken needle, and
has no second point. We shall have exhausted
the absurdities of our friends I shall no longer
talk with animation he will no longer listen with
delight both will feel the necessity of change
and my only object will be to change the first.
As to friends, so long as we have mutual interests,
our friendship is made for eternity ; but let them
come in contact, and we have nothing left but
wonder how it ever existed."
" I thank you for the name of friend, which
you bestow upon me," said Francesca.
" Why, my addressing these remarks to you
is the greatest possible compliment. You are in
duty bound to suppose they do not include you.
The stronger the rule, the more flattering the ex-
ception ; and the truth is, Francesca, I do indeed
make you an exception. I think better of you than
I do of myself and that, too, without hating you.
My liking for you is grounded on divers reasons
206 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
all so good that one alone would be cause suffi-
cient. First, our friendship began at that early
time when alone it is unalloyed and sincere;
secondly" and here, in spite of her vivacity,
Marie's voice trembled " you are associated
with the only being in the world I ever really
loved ; and thirdly, I have behaved exceedingly
ill to you, and, consequently, feel it quite magna-
nimous not to hate you, which is the established
rule on such occasions."
" Pray, continue your magnanimity."
" It is my full intention ; and as friends make
a point of being as disagreeable as possible, I shall
at once begin with that last extremity giving
advice. Now, tell me, Francesca, what use do
you intend making of the many advantages which
surround you at this moment ?"
" I see no advantages. Ah! Marie, you are
little aware of my many drawbacks. My father,
though he has avowed me, has no affection for a
child whose very existence he knew not for many
years."
" And of what earthly consequence is it whe-
ther he love you or not ? You are not the less his
acknowledged and only child, heiress of this noble
domain, very beautiful, and, if well managed, with
half England at your feet."
FRANCESCA CARRARA. |J 207
" I am sure I should not know what to do
with a quarter."
" I believe you ; but do try and learn. It is
obvious that the Duke of Buckingham is come
down with a full intention of laying siege to la
belle MritiZre"
" It is a matter of perfect indifference to me."
The Comtesse gazed at her earnestly for a mo-
ment, and Francesca coloured deeply. Quite mis-
interpreting the blush, she went on eagerly. " I
really have some hopes of you. While your king
is unmarried, you do quite right to look at nothing
under royalty. Charles is not mother and minister-
ridden, like Louis. I remarked how much he
was struck by your appearance. I entreat your
future majesty to remember, that I now predict
the success of an attempt."
" Which will never be made," exclaimed
Francesca. " There is nothing more absurd than
refusing what never will be offered ; but I would
not marry Charles Stuart if he had the crown of
the world, instead of England's, at his disposal."
" And why not ? unless you are planet-struck
by the Duke of Buckingham. Never, my dear,
allow your fancy to interfere with your interest."
" So little notice did I take of the Duke, that
I should not know him again."
208 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
Madame de Soissons leant back in her chair
thoughtfully. " She knows England better than
I do. Perhaps these demi-sauvages may stand upon
their dignity as much as Louis himself; and the
coronet is what the crown is not attainable."
Then pursuing the thread of her thoughts, she
said aloud, " But, Francesca, you will surely
accept his Grace ? What can you hope for
more?"
" Much, much more a heart for which my
own will be given in exchange. I would not
marry the man I did not love for all the wealth
of the east, and for the united honours of France
and England."
" Love!" ejaculated the Comtesse; " and so
throw away the chances of a life upon a month of
honey! I say a month, which is allowing a lati-
tude tenderness never took. Love ! why that is
cheating yourself into marriage, as they cheat the
children a little sugar at first, to conceal the
nauseous draught which follows. You will find
that, at the very best, marriage is a state which
requires all sorts of resources to make it even en-
durable ; but to marry for love aggravates the
evil it adds contrast to its other disappointments.
Far better to make up your mind to the worst,
and say at once, I know that weariness is the
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 209
regular matrimonial feeling ; but that may be al-
leviated by a splendid house, magnificent fetes
by influence in society, jewels, laces, a lap-dog,
and half-a-dozen lovers."
" I will be content with one," replied Fran-
cesca.
" Don't marry him, then. Marrying for love
is like putting from shore to dwell in the morning
palace the fay Morgana builds at daybreak on
the coast of Naples. Fair and far the glistening
halls extend, and the shining gardens seem filled
with fruit and flowers ; but the wind gets up, the
glittering pinnacles melt into the cloudy sky, the
haunted terraces vanish, and the golden chimera,
born of sunshine and vapour, is no more. Sud-
denly you find yourself in a little wretched boat,
rocked by the waves into sea-sickness, scorched
by the hot noon, tossed about by a rough breeze,
and left to weep or curse your fate as may best
suit your peculiar disposition."
" But you say nothing about your companion
in the boat ? "
" Because I look upon him as a nonentity.
But though I have your interest at heart, I have
also my own complexion : we may dream of con-
quests to-night, but we shall not make them
to-morrow, if ' we look pale and weary with long
watching/ so adieu !"
210 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
Francesca took the hint and her taper, not
sorry to retire ; for she found her resolution in-
adequate to ask the question which hovered on her
lips, whether Marie had seen Mr. Evelyn in Paris,
No sooner had she reached her apartment, than
she began to reproach her own indecision. Ah ! no
questions are so difficult to ask as those which the
heart deeply and dearly treasures! When alone,
we shape them into a thousand forms imagine
every possible occasion for asking them say
them over to ourselves, as if there were a charm
in the sound ; but the time comes, and they die
unheard upon the lip, we have not resolution to
ask them.
211
CHAPTER XXV.
A man so various, that he seemed to be
No man himself, but man's epitome."
DRYDEN.
" So I hear that his Majesty has granted you the
manors of Evelyn," said Lord Avonleigh to the
Duke of Buckingham. " Our hunting is very
good ; and I trust we shall have you for something
more than a temporary neighbour."
" I only hope that you will not see too much
of me. Human nature never yet resisted temp-
tation. Sylvan shades that boast such a Diana
have attractions which might tempt us to realise
the visions of ' Old Arcady/ " replied the other,
turning to Francesca, whose eyes were fixed on the
ground, and whose cheek was suffused with the
deepest carnation.
With the vanity of a man whcse conquests had
lacked one only charm difficulty, he immediately
applied the blush to himself; but Madame de Sois-
212 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
sons, who, in spite of the lively dialogue which she
was carrying on with the King, observed a favourite
rule, which was, to allow nothing to escape her
notice, marked Francesca's change of countenance
also from its first deadly paleness to its crimson
confusion; and her inference was quite opposite
to that of the Duke. He, however, was stimulated
to complete a conquest so happily commenced :
first, because he considered love as a proper com-
pliment, which all women owed him ; secondly,
because Francesca was a beauty ; and, thirdly, an
heiress, the last motive being the most powerful ;
for, as the worthy biographer of Sir John Parrot
justly observes, " nothing doth more stimulate
men to action than desire of gain." Holding
imitation to be the most delicate of flattery, the
Duke usually made it a point of conscience to
adopt the tastes of the fair dame to whom, for the
time, he devoted himself. " Self-love," as he was
wont to observe, " was thus enlisted on his side
of the question she preferred herself in him."
In a moment Francesca recovered herself, and,
joining as qarelessly as she could in the con-
versation, said, " As far as my experience has
gone, I infinitely prefer the country to the town.
There is something to me at once desolate, and
yet confined, in a city. The multitude of faces
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 213
continually passing and repassing, all strangers,
overwhelm you with a sense of your own nothing-
ness. The brick walls are so dreary, the streets
so dirty all the associations belonging to what-
ever is most common-place in our existence that
whenever I gaze from the window, I always feel
lowered and dispirited. But, in the country, the
green fields are so joyous, the pure air so fresh,
the blue sky so clear ; the fine old trees, redolent
of earth's loveliest mythology, when the dryades
peopled their green shadows ; the fair flowers, at
the unfolding of whose leaves some line of de-
licious poetry springs to mind ; the singing of the
wind, like a natural lute, plaining amid the leaves,
all combine to carry me out of myself. I feel
a thousand vague and sweet emotions, and am
both better and happier. Yes, I do love the
country."
" Well," exclaimed Madame de Soissons, " the
fate of our sex and of the country seems to be
much the same : we are doomed to have a thou-
sand fine things said of us which nobody means or
ever acts upon. Your philosopher talks of the
virtue only to be found in rural life, and remains
quietly in his arm-chair and his town lodgings :
your lover raves of your cruelty, which he vows
he cannot survive, leaves your presence, and orders
214 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
a good supper. Considering how much we say
that we do not mean, how fortunate it is that we
are not taken at our word ! We should then be
cautious how we talked of rustic and innocent plea-
sures, of dying for love, and eternal constancy."
" We deceive ourselves on most subjects/' said
the Duke ; " but I own, especially when I am
out of humour, that a vision of some calm retreat,
far ' from the busy hum of men,' is apt to rise
upon my imagination, all my poetry takes
refuge ' in lonely glade or haunted dell/ I could
not love a woman whose image was for ever ac-
companied in my memory by brick and mortar."
" All our poetical feelings," replied Francesca,
" delight to link themselves with natural objects.
The leaf, the flower, the star, the dew, are the
inexhaustible sources of imagery."
" And one feeling, loveliest of all, delights in
such connexion. The poet bears love with him to
his own haunted solitude."
" Ah!" exclaimed Francesca, " all the finer
mysteries of the spirit vanish in the crowd. Vanity
is to the many the stimulus that affection is to the
few."
" Yes," answered Buckingham, in a tone of
voice so low that it was all but a whisper,
" there is nothing so heartless as that hurrying
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 215
intercourse careless, and yet constrained which
constitutes society. I can imagine nay, fancy
I was meant for an existence so different an
existence where all the deeper feelings would not
be wholly wasted, as they are now. But I need
the wand of the enchanter to lead me through
the weary maze in which habit and indifference
soon entangles one hitherto without a dearer aim.
Just now," for he perceived Francesca was meditat-
ing a retreat a design which he set down to em-
barrassment, " my head is full of some exquisite
lines I was reading this morning in your library.
I hear, Lady Francesca, that it is a favourite room
of yours. Do pray join with me in admiring the
picturesque tenderness with which the poet invests
his dream of futurity." So saying, in a voice low
and sweet as just-heard music, he repeated the
following lines :
I disdain
All pomp when thou art by : far be the noise
Of kings, and courts, from us, whose gentle souls
Our kinder stars have steered another way.
Free as the forest-birds we'll pair together
Fly to the arbours, grots, and flowery meads,
And in soft murmurs interchange our souls j
Together drink the crystal of the stream,
Or taste the yellow fruit which autumn yields ;
And, when the golden evening calls us home,
Wing to our downy nest, and sleep till morn."
216 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" What a feeling of security," continued he,
" is flung round the uncertainty of love, by the
calm and gentle images with which it is here
invested! "
But their disquisition was interrupted by Lord
Avonleigh, who came to announce that a depu-
tation from Southampton waited without, full of
eloquence and loyalty. From the reluctance with
which the monarch rose from Madame de Soissons'
side, this was evidently not half so attractive as the
Parisian anecdotes, whose malice lost nothing in
her hands. However, all hastened to the hall,
and one half the day was spent in receiving the
congratulations of the worthy mayor, and the re-
mainder in ridiculing them.
The Duke of Buckingham, in an old wig
which he borrowed from the steward, and his
worship's actual red cloak, which had been pur-
loined by his orders, the owner having lost all
distinctions even those of property, to which he
was, generally speaking, keenly alive in the
canary which he had drained to the health of
his most gracious Majesty ; in this said wig and
cloak his Grace gave a most faithful represent-
ation of the pompous little magistrate, to the
great amusement of the company, who had now
no decorum to restrain their mirth. Lord Avon-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 217
leigh's laugh might, perhaps, he rather forced ;
for, to be candid in our confessions, the deputation
had been arranged by himself, and the very speech
which the Duke of Buckingham had just mouthed
with equal powers of memory and mimicry, had
been the joint production of himself and the
mayor, the latter having only learnt by heart
what the former had concocted. However, as
the King laughed, it was his duty, as a loyal sub-
ject, to laugh too ; and as for his Grace of Buck-
ingham intending him, as he did, for his son-
in-law he was for the present privileged. All
depends upon circumstance anger as much as
any thing else. Interest is your only true cosmetic
for smoothing the brow.
VOL. III.
-2] 8
CHAPTER XXVI.
" Old friendships, which renew the days of youth."
THE old friendship between Marie and Francesca
had returned with something of the warmth and
confidence of its earlier time. As usual, the
motives which led to its renewal were of a very
mixed nature. At once affectionate and reserved,
Francesca's temper needed an object to love, but
she was too shy to make the first advances ; hence
an old attachment, made easy by the freedom of
childhood, and unrestrained through long habit,
had upon her a more than ordinary hold. She
had also been so long debarred from any inter-
change of feelings and sentiments so surrounded
by strangers, that it was a true enjoyment to
meet with one, who, if she did not enter into
many of the emotions connected with it, was yet
able and ready to talk of the past. Moreover, to
a generous nature like her own, the very fact of
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 219
having much to forgive rather endeared Marie
than not; and in immediate circumstances there
was nothing to call forth the worst parts of her
character.
Madame de Soissons' return to her girlish
friendship was modified by many more worldly
reasons. She was unconsciously influenced by the
changed circumstances in which she found Fran-
cesca. Accustomed to regard rank and wealth
as the gods of this lower world, it was impossible
not to pay them homage wherever she found
them. She also really loved our heroine as much
as it was in her nature to love any one. The gloss
of novelty was still fresh upon their intimacy ;
both had much to tell and hear ; their past was in
common, and they did not interfere in the slightest
degree at present. There was also one mutual
feeling which they had, like their whole sex
confidence is a feminine necessity. There are
very few women but who like each other's society,
and of this liking sympathy is the grand secret :
none but ' themselves can fully enter into their
hopes, fears, and plans ; all of which are nothing
without being discussed. A woman only can un-
derstand a woman ; and it is pleasant to be under-
stood sometimes.
Within the last day or two, Madame de Sois-
220 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
sons' interest in Francesca had received a new-
impetus. A brain so fertile as her own in projects
could not long be without one. The Duke of
Buckingham had been the means of overthrowing
a scheme of her's, she would try if it would not
be possible to overthrow one of his. " Diamonds
and hearts," exclaimed she, " the same game
over again. I have lost the first game, but I shall
have my revenge." That very day Madame de
Soissons had learned from Henriette, that all hope
of an alliance between her son and Hortense was
hopeless. " Her predilection," said the Queen,
" for the Comte de Mielleraye is so marked."
The Comtesse, in her heart, execrated the
blind folly of her sister, but still more the subtle
policy of the adversary which had thrown the
early lover in the way of ambition. Perhaps it
would have given her little pleasure to have seen
Hortense so far elevated above herself; but envy
was now hors de combat, and, except vengeance,
nothing remained to console a disappointment
rendered more bitter by defeat. She knew, how-
ever, from whose hand the arrow came, and she
resolved on returning it. The truth was, that
the Duke of Buckingham had a better memory
for the sleights of the French court than his indolent
master ; and when he heard of the proposed visit,
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 221
resolved to do all he could to frustrate its de-
sign. He forthwith sent the Comte de Miel-
leraye due warning of the project, asked him to
England, and offered to introduce him to Avon-
leigh Castle. It may readily be supposed that
the Comte accepted the proposal, left Paris, and
his appearance at so critical a moment turned
in his favour whatever might have wavered of
Hortense's heart.
Charles was too good-natured to interfere with
an inclination which did not interfere with his own ;
and left the weight of explanation to his mother
or Buckingham, who was eloquent about the ex-
pectations of the people of England, and the ne-
cessity for a royal alliance ; while his master was
perfectly content, as long as the visit lasted, to per-
mit himself to be amused by Madame de Soissons.
Buckingham, in the meantime, was not with-
out a scheme for his own advantage. He was
attracted by Francesca's beauty, but still more
by her being the rich Lord Avonleigh's only child.
He had already received a grant of the/ Evelyn
estate, and the two united would form the finest
property in England. Already he meditated ob-
taining possession of the whole county of Hamp-
shire; for he was as avaricious in acquisition as
he was lavish in expenditure. The gallantry
222 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
which then prevailed, and made the language of
love so universal as almost to divest it of meaning,
allowed him to try his acknowledged powers of
fascination on Francesca without committing him-
self; who, her heart wholly occupied with the
image of another,
" Smiled, and then forgot
The gentle things to which she listened not."
Not so Madame de Soissons, who at once
divined his intentions and watched his progress,
internally resolving to render him every ill office
pique could suggest, or ridicule execute. Still, she
feared him, for every thing was in his favour
rank, fortune, personal advantages ; but, most of
all, she dreaded himself. She noted that he had read
Francesca's character truly, and sought to propi-
tiate her favour by the refined sentiment, and an
under-current of exalted and poetic feeling, which
shewed to great advantage, veiled, not hidden, by
his lively and graceful manner. But Francesca's
sudden paleness and deep blush at the name of
Evelyn threw a new light upon the subject.
Marie at once recollected the young and hand-
some Englishman who had occupied so large a
portion of their attention in Italy. She remem-
bered vaguely some history of a quarrel, she could
scarcely recollect what, between him and Francesca ;
FRANCESCA CARRARA, 223
and she also recalled having seen him lately in
Paris so altered as to attract her attention, though
only for the moment. Would it be possible to
effect a reconciliation? At all events, she resolved
to introduce the subject.
Little did she know how ever present it was to
Francesca's thoughts, still less the many difficulties
which it involved ; the difficulties, however, would
have been an attraction: -the genius for intrigue
needs a few obstacles to stimulate its powers.
224
CHAPTER XXVII.
But this divinest universe
Was yet a chaos and a cave."
SHELLEY.
" I REALLY congratulate you on your brilliant
conquest," said Madame de Soissons, as she was
seated in the usual tete-a-tete with her hostess which
concluded the day. " Are you not afraid of the
consequences of the despair of your five hundred
rivals? As a friend, I advise you, after you are
Duchess of Buckingham, never to move out with-
out a guard, and to drink but from a Venetian
glass ; thus taking all possible precautions against
1 the poison or the steel.' '
" When I am Duchess, I will take all the
care you advise ; but it is waste of time guarding
against evils which never can arrive."
" Never ! What will you wager that the first
letter I receive from you in France does not con-
tain a full account of all the preparations for your
marriage at least, if not of the marriage itself? "
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 225
" I will stake heart, life, and soul, on the im-
possibility."
" You speak earnestly," replied the Comtesse.
" We all know the worth of a lady's negative.
The more forcible the resolution, the more chance
there is of its being broken."
" Not with me. Under no possible circum-
stances could I love the Duke of Buckingham.
He is too unreal he affects too much to suit
what he supposes is your taste. Life is to him a
sctne de comedie : he aims at acting his many
parts brilliantly; but, in our admiration for the
actor, we lose all interest in the individual."
" The truth is, or at least such I suspect it to
be, that you have no heart, Francesca, to give. I
remember a certain young English cavalier, whom
we usually found loitering beside the ruined temple
in the pine- wood. You had some lover's quarrel ;
but you are disposed to Christian charity, are you
not? Nay, nay don't blush, nor turn away that
pretty head! I shall be a most indulgent con-
fessor. What ! tears, Francesca ? You love him
still?"
" I do," said Francesca, " more dearly, more
deeply than you can dream ! " and again she hid
her face in her hands. But this was one of those
subjects on which, speak but once, give but one
L2
226 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
little hint, and the heart forces its way to the lips,
it must have the relief of words.
" I loved him when but a girl, when only alive
to the intense happiness which he taught me could
exist. I could have passed days, content but to look
upon his face, to watch his shadow wave on the long
and undulating grass ; to hear his voice ; and when
he gazed on me when he spoke, though in the
most indifferent words to feel my heart beat as
if it had started into sudden existence, and yet
could have died upon the moment its every pur-
pose of life fulfilled in that deep and unutterable
delight. He loved me. I should have perished
when his presence was no longer around me, had
I not lived upon that sweet and secret knowledge.
We met once more he seemed changed ; his un-
worthiness was forced upon me, and we parted
never, never to meet again ! Humiliated, angry,
resolved as I was, yet even then I loved him : all re-
cent injury faded before the tender memory of our
early love. At length I learned that we had both
been cruelly deceived that he was all I once be-
lieved him. Judge how my heart sprang back to its
old allegiance, hopeless though it was though it
is ! Marie, I tell you, that were every worldly ad-
vantage heaped in one balance, and his own exiled
self placed in the other, I would rather follow him
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 227
a beggar through the world, live a neglected slave
at his side, than take the fairest portion that
Fortune ever yet assigned a favourite. Nay, more :
uncertain as I now am whether his affection
may have survived my supposed faithlessness, I
would rather preserve the poor privilege of trea-
suring up his remembrance of carrying for his
sake a wrung but undivided heart to the grave
than aught else that life can offer, my first, my
last, and only love ! I cannot even imagine a destiny
uncoloured by his influence, or a life undevoted to
his idea."
Both were silent. The language of strong
passion or deep feeling was strange to Marie ;
she scarce knew how to answer it. For a moment
she yielded to a confused sensation of tenderness
and sympathy; but the worldly calculation soon
arose. She now felt assured that the Duke would
never succeed. Still, habit was all powerful, and
she thought within herself, " les absens out toujours
tort" Would not Evelyn's presence be additional
security ? But how was that to be managed ? She
must know more. " Have you no means of com-
municating with Mr. Evelyn 1" asked she.
" None," replied Francesca ; " never was situa-
tion more awkward or more painful than my own.
But have you patience to hear the history ?"
228 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" Not only patience, but inclination," cried
Marie, drawing her chair eagerly forward, and
looking the curiosity she felt.
Thus encouraged, Francesca proceeded as briefly
as possible to detail the events of the last two
years, interrupted only by an occasional exclama-
tion of surprise from her companion ; and at last
concluded by saying, " And now, can any thing
be more hopeless ? An exile in all probability from
his country for ever, what chance have I of meet-
ing Robert Evelyn again ? And even were we to
meet, it would be in coldness on his part, which
would be an insurmountable bar to explanation.
Often and often do I feel so wretched, so despair-
ing, that the quiet rest of the grave seems all that
I dare desire, or can hope."
" Not quite so desperate, dearest Francesca.
I never will believe but that Fate owes you a
recompense. I will for once prophesy from my
wishes, and predict a happy meeting between
yourself and Mr. Evelyn."
Francesca pressed her extended hand, but gave
no further answer ; and the friends separated for
the night one to think, the other to act. Ma-
dame de Soissons had just finished a packet to be
despatched to her uncle. Late as was the hour, she
sat down and wrote a long letter, which, when con-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 229
eluded, she enclosed to the Cardinal. Apparently,
she was satisfied with her performance, for a smile
of triumph curled her lip as she sealed the scroll
and whispered to herself, " The game, I think, is
in my own hands. I would not give much for
his Grace's chance of this fair castle and its fairer
heir."
230
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Oh, man ! hold thee on in courage of soul,
Through the stormy shades of thy worldly way."
SHELLEY.
IT was a small and gloomy-looking apartment in
one of the retired streets of Paris, where all was
as quiet as if it had not been in the centre of that
busy metropolis. Only a distant and incessant
murmur, like the rolling of the sea against the
resounding shore, told that life was pouring the
perpetual tumult of its restless waves around.
The contrast was oppressive, for the stillness of
the place itself was that of inaction, not of repose.
Like one excluded from the general struggle, not
like one retired from it, a young cavalier was the
sole tenant of that lonely chamber, and for the
last half-hour he had sat in a desponding reverie,
watching the blaze of his wood -fire gradually
dying away on the hearth his sole employment,
meditating over a past whose every recollection
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 231
was a disappointment and his sole solace, drawing
fanciful similitudes between the faded embers and
his own quenched hopes. " So have they perished
before me, one and all, the dreams in which I have
indulged the aims to which I aspired. Love
that which should have been the one sweet flower
on my weary path has indeed been to me the
reed which pierced the heart that leant on it so
confidingly. Since falsehood could wear such fair
similitude of truth since Francesca could deceive
me whom can I ever trust again? And, good
God ! to think that it was my own brother, from
whom I had not kept back one thought who
knew how I prized the treasure of which he
robbed me that he should have turned away
from me that affection I deemed so entirely my
own! But, poor Francis! I must not think of
him now with anger. Cut off in the pride of
youth, he has dearly paid for all his faults and
follies. But a few months more, and what a
change would have awaited him ! The Stuarts
are now on the English throne an event which
must have realised all his hope of brilliant fortunes.
Had he lived, my father's house would not have
passed into the hands of strangers. How vain are
the schemes in which we all delight! Francis,
ardent and courtly, devotes himself to that royal
232
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
cause which, when he has perished, becomes tri-
umphant. I delude myself with vain aspirations
for that liberty which the few secure to the many ;
and I see the servile shackles of old rights and
prejudices more closely riveted than ever. Now,
a future without hope that can elevate, or aim that
can attach, is before me. A worthless mercenary
in some foreign service, or an idle loiterer in
stranger lands, is all that remains for a life that
once believed in its higher and nobler calling."
At this moment his page entered with a packet.
" Lights!" said Evelyn, carelessly for, as our
readers will have already divined, he was the
melancholy soliloquist " I may as well read the
Cardinal's epistle at once; but I am no tool for
his purpose. Whatever may be the wrongs and
the discontent of my old companions, it is not to
serve the interested views of France, fain to dis-
turb Charles's government, that their energies
should be called into dangerous action. A time
may corne when the spirit of resistance it is now
useless to excite may rise hopeful and enlightened
in defence of those civil and religious rights, whose
value will be more deeply imprinted in men's
minds every hour. But not now their present
defenders have lived too soon."
He opened the Cardinal's epistle, which con-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 233
tained little beyond indefinite offers of service and
expressions of consideration ; while towards the
end a wish was thrown out to see him. But this
letter contained another, with the brief remark,
" My niece, Madame de Soissons, now in Eng-
land, has met with some friends of yours, and of
whose communications she has taken charge, as
the enclosed will explain, which she requested
might be forwarded at once a wish I have had
much pleasure in immediately obeying."
Evelyn took the letter, but curiosity for a
moment was lost in a yet more powerful feeling.
Madame de Soissons was by him chiefly remem-
bered as Marie Mancini, his friend and almost
confidante in Italy. Her image could not come
alone, and Evelyn forgot the scroll while thinking
what had been the fate of her more lovely but
less fortunate companion. How had his brother's
death affected her? did she know of it? Alas!
into what depths of misery might she now be
plunged ! On his arrival in Paris, whither he
had come straight from Ireland when Henry
Cromwell allowed the King to be proclaimed,
he had used every possible means to find her
abode; but no traces could he discover, beyond
the fact that she had certainly left the capital;
but whither she had gone all his attempts to learn
234 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
were in vain. At length, in hopes of escapi
from reflections so fraught with bitterness, he
opened the letter, which ran thus :
" DEAR MR. EVELYN,
" For as I mean to claim the privilege of an
old friend, I shall not abate one atom of our
former kindly feeling, I give you full permission
to be as much surprised as you please at my thus
addressing you, provided to surprise you add pa-
tience, and read my letter with the attention which
I can assure you it deserves. I write in the earnest
wish to promote your happiness a little for your
own sake, but still more for that of another. That
other is my nearest and dearest friend, whom you
knew as Francesca Carrara."
At the sight of that name, which had been so
long absent from all save the depths of his own
memory, the page dropped from his hand he rose
from his seat, and began to pace the room hur-
riedly ; and when he again resumed the perusal,
the added paleness of his brow, the blood upon his
bitten lip, belied the forced composure with which
he took up the paper. It continued as follows :
" She is ignorant of my writing I would not
tell her for your faith has been severely tried,
and may have changed. Should another, there-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 235
fore, have consoled you for her supposed falsehood,
it is but merciful to spare her suspense, at least.
I shall have done her the justice of explanation,
and saved her the wretchedness of knowing that
it has been made too late. You have both been
strangely deceived, and by the treachery of one
who was bound by every tie of honour and affec-
tion to your service."
But it is needless for us to repeat this portion
of the Comtesse's letter; our readers are already
acquainted with the cruel deception which Fran-
cis's likeness to his brother enabled him to prac-
tise how completely it failed, even while un-
discovered and the confession to which death so
soon put its seal. Her change of fortune was also
narrated; and the epistle concluded with these
words :
" But, under all circumstances, Francesca's
attachment to yourself has been her ruling feeling.
Prosperous, courted, as she is at this moment, her
heart is yours dearly and truly as when your
earlier vows were pledged amid the pine-forests
by the old palazzo. If fettered by other ties, send
me one line if not, come to England. I am
aware that you are an exile, but it is not in
Charles's nature to be very inexorable; a few
236 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
prayers, and, if need be, tears, and I am sure we
shall obtain your pardon.
" Accept the best wishes of
Your sincere friend,
" MARIE DE SOISSONS."
Evelyn leant his head on his arm, confused
and dizzy with happiness. Francesca, his only
and long-loved, unchanged, and with a heart but
the more dearly his own for its many trials !
methinks all the suffering of a miserable life were
overpaid by that moment of exquisite enjoyment.
Again and again he read Madame de Soissons'
letter he required repeated assurance of his hap-
piness he paced the room now in that fever of
the spirits so delicious in its unrest ; and this was
the cavalier who, half an hour since, had seen
nothing but evil upon earth who was hopeless
and discontented, and looked upon the future as
a desert, and life as a burden.
237
CHAPTER XXIX.
" I tell you, you shall wed him !'
" LADY FRANCESCA STUKELEY, may I request your
presence in my library?" said Lord Avonleigh,
with the air of a philosopher or a Spanish minister
of state, or whatever else may seem most import-
ant and imposing.
Francesca followed, reluctant enough in her
secret ; for though she would not have admitted
it even to herself, she did shrink from the inflic-
tion of the inane solemnities with which her father
garnished his discourse to say nothing of the
ungracious reflections which so often glanced at
herself.
" Matters of import require time," said he,
waving his hand, and taking an attitude in his
chair, very far from insensible to his long-linger-
ing personal graces; " I therefore beg you will
238 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
be seated." Francesca obeyed, a little marvelling
on what matters of import she could be deemed
worthy of consultation. " To continue a noble
name is one of the first duties incumbent on its
possessors and most unfortunate it is when an
ancient line ends in a female.' 7 Francesca knew
not very well what answer to make to this. Lord
Avonleigh, however, spared her the trouble, by
observing, in what he meant to be a consolatory
tone: " I know what you were going to say
that it is not your fault that you are a woman."
" Only my misfortune."
" And a very great misfortune it is, under the
present circumstances. However, the true phi-
losophy is that which makes the best of every
thing. I have, therefore, arranged the following
plan. The house of Avonleigh is too ancient to
be merged in any title, however exalted. I have
therefore settled that, when you marry, your eldest
son will inherit his father's honours, but your
second will represent my name and lineage."
" Suppose I do not marry?"
" I never suppose impossibilities."
" And if I should not have two sons?"
" And pray, why should you not? His majesty
has already most graciously spoken to me of your
marriage ; and I myself have observed the admira-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 239
tion with which the Duke of Buckingham has
been pleased to distinguish you. But one point
remained to be settled and that his Grace has
accorded namely, that the title of Avonleigh
should descend to the second son."
Francesca could almost have laughed at the
facility with which Lord Avonleigh had laid out
the future according to his own will and pleasure ;
but her own position was too serious for mirth
now or never must she tell her father that he could
not reckon on this disposition of her hand and
heart or rather hand only, for the heart seemed
the last thing in the world that entered into his
calculations. A myriad of beginnings to her in-
tended discourse darted into her mind ; but, as is
usual in such cases, she chose the one the very
worst suited to her purpose. " I never intend to
marry," said she, in a faltering voice.
" Very proper to say so," replied her father,
with an air of gracious encouragement. " Mar-
riage should always take young ladies by surprise.
It would be contrary to the dignity of my daughter
to accept the Duke of Buckingham on supposi-
tion. I am well content you should refuse him
t beforehand ."
" My father/' said Francesca, rising from her
seat, " I pray you listen to me for a few moments,
140 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
and do bear in kindly remembrance how different
my life has been to the general run of feminine
experience."
" I could not help your being left to run wild
half over the world ; so don't reproach me with
it," exclaimed Lord Avonleigh, half pettish, half
sullen.
" I reproach no one ; but I would fain entreat
you to remember, that many years youth's most
eager and sensitive years passed ere I knew there
was a human being to whom I was accountable
for my actions."
" And now you have only to obey my com-
mands."
" I will obey in what I can ; but affection is
neither in your power nor even in my own."
" Affection ! and, pray, what have you to do
with affection?"
" Very little indeed," replied his daughter,
the tears she could not repress glistening on her
long dark lashes ; " and yet I have known it,
Sir, long before I was aware of a father's claims
upon my obedience. My heart was given, and
my hand promised, to one who, though noble and
rich himself, yet delighted to share his prosperity
with the poor Italian orphan. Circumstances,
which it would only weary you to detail, prevented
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 241
the fulfilment of that contract ; but I hold it dear
and binding as I did in that brief hour of happi-
ness when my faith was pledged, never to be re-
called."
" And pray/' asked Lord Avonleigh, almost
inarticulate with anger, " what foreign adventurer
has entrapped the romantic fancies of a foolish
girl ? What sun-burnt count, with some unpro-
nounceable name, and a palace in ruins, looks
forward to the tangible delights of English gold
wrung from the gullibility of his easily-to-be-talked-
over father-in-law ? His name, girl ! "
" His name is as ancient as your own, and
has more than once been thought worthy of an
alliance with the house of Avonleigh."
Her father's brow grew darker than she could
have believed that fair smooth brow could have
darkened his lip was white with anger. " Speak!"
muttered he, in a tone of subdued rage, subdued
but for the moment. " Your lover's name!"
" Robert Evelyn," said Francesca, in a scarcely
audible whisper, for all her resolution sunk with
the effort of pronouncing his name.
" I thought as much : but it matters not; for
never shall Robert Evelyn wed daughter of mine,
unless he take her pennyless and discarded. Why,
your cavalier is a rebel an exile, whose property
VOL. III. M
242 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
is confiscated, and for whose neck the gibbet stands
prepared ! "
" And for whose sake I will bear an unchanged
name and an unaltered heart to my grave."
Lord Avonleigh walked to and fro ; but anger
was a wearying exertion, and rage soon subsided
into pettishness.
" Respect for our illustrious guests must in-
duce us to wave these family quarrels for the pre-
sent ; but, mark me, Francesca, accept the Duke
of Buckingham when he offers his hand, or, the
moment that our visitors leave, I will lock you up
in the south tower, on bread and water, to learn
obedience when it is too late to practise it." So
saying, he quitted the apartment, having recourse
to that grand resource of the wounded feeling or
the aggrieved temper, namely, slamming the door
after him.
243
CHAPTER XXX.
We are the unwilling sport
Of circumstance and passion."
SHELLEY.
THE next few days passed pleasantly enough to
the majority of the visitors in Avonleigh Castle.
Madame de Soissons amused her own leisure by
amusing that of the king. Hortense and Mielle-
raye indulged in those gentle speeches which say
so little, yet look so much, and whose charm is so
soon exhausted, and never renewed. The Cheva-
lier de Joinville made a third in every tete-a-tete,
and was de trop in none ; for he always talked to
them of themselves, or entertained them at the
precise moment when there was, though uncon-
fessed, some slight approach to ennui. The Duke of
Buckingham was devoted to Francesca, somewhat
marvelling at the slow progress which he made,
but rather animated by the indifference of the lady
than otherwise. Lord Avonleigh was happy in
244 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
the duties of a host ; to hear him talk, Atlas was
but an allegory of himself the weight of two
separate worlds, loyalty and hospitality, rested on
him ; besides, he had the enjoyment of occasional
sneers at the folly of women, together with their
obstinacy ; and also at the error of romantic at-
tachments.
All these hints Hortense and her lover con-
sidered as levelled at themselves ; to which, how-
ever, they were perfectly indifferent, only retali-
ating by ridiculing his habits, manners, &c., and
finding in this said ridicule a perpetual source of
conversation, whenever sweetness required sauce
piquante. I believe they were rather grateful to
him, a standing subject of laughter is invalu-
able, especially to the young, who like what they
laugh at. As they advance in life, laughter, in
common with all things else, grows bitter it ex-
presses scorn rather than mirth.
Poor Francesca might seem the offering to
Fortune made for the rest of the party. Every
word of her father's cut her to the heart. The
very fact of her childhood arid her youth having
passed without being the object of that near and
deep affection, made her exaggerate its happiness,
as we ever exaggerate the unknown. And now
that she found herself, and by no fault of her own,
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 245
an object of indifference, nay, of dislike, where
she had so long gathered up her hopes, cruel
indeed was the disappointment. In every point
of view her situation was most irksome ; from
morning to night there was a perpetual demand
upon her attention, and the slightest relaxation
was sure to be visited by Lord Avonleigh's petu-
lant reproaches. The Duke of Buckingham's
suit was an additional annoyance ; without ever
saying enough to warrant a decided refusal, he
was always at her side, trying every possible
variety of flattery and amusement ; but his being
her lover destroyed all that might have been
agreeable as an acquaintance. Francesca abso-
lutely hated him. How often, when her thoughts
were far away, did he break in upon them, and
force them back to the weary realities before her !
Entirely filled with the image of another, her
heart, indeed, had the deaf ear of the adder, which
heedeth not the voice of the charmer, charm he
never so wisely. The Duke was too shrewd not to
perceive that he lost, instead of gaining ground. A
rival was, of course, the only solution ; but who was
that rival ? Certainly not one in their own circle.
He watched every word addressed to another he
examined every look, but all were alike cold and
careless; and he soon arrived at the conclusion,
246 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
that none in the Castle interfered with his in-
terest he therefore had the field to himself ;
les dbsens ont toujours tort was repeated, and on
that maxim he proceeded. He saw that Lord
Avonleigh had little indulgence, and less love, for
his daughter; and that on her he vented that
temper which fear or interest repressed in other
instances : her home was unhappy. And how many
women have believed that any change must be for
the better, and only discovered their mistake when
too late to remedy it ! a time, by the by, at which
mistakes are usually found out.
" Hope deferred maketh the heart sick;" and
how long had Francesca suffered under this heart-
sickness ! Again she felt a return of that utter de-
spondency which had fallen upon her after Guide's
death ; but then she could indulge in it unmolested,
and that was something of relief: now she was
forced into exertion, that sort of exertion of all the
most tiresome, because the least interesting a
constant attention to people to whom she was in-
different, and to trifles which she could not even
fancy to be of consequence. Oh this weariness of
the forced spirits ! and yet is there one human
being but has known it ? The brightened eye, which
is fain to turn aside and weep ; the lively answer,
which says all but what is most present to its
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 247
thoughts ; the fatigue of hody which follows this
toil of the mind ; the heartlessness, the hopeless-
ness of such a task recurring day after day never
assert that hell comes only after death, while
such a hell as this exists, and is known, alas, to
common experience ! How eagerly did she seek
for an hour of solitude, though that solitude was
only filled by haunting fears and vain regrets !
One evening, with what a sensation of relief
did she contrive to escape from her guests ! Ma-
dame de Soissons had a head-ache, and had retired
to her chamber. Charles, for lack of other amuse-
ment, proposed cards, and formed his party of
Lord Avonleigh, the Duke of Buckingham, and
the Chevalier de Joinville. Francesca only felt
too grateful to the table which attracted attention
from herself. The beautiful evening soon drew
her from her apartment, and she wandered forth
to a little lonely nook in the pleasaunce, which
was her favourite haunt. The terrace, which a
few warm days had induced the gardener to line
with some noble orange -plants and early roses,
was soon passed through. Francesca paused
with tearful eyes over the round, fruit-like buds
and broad shining leaves, which brought another
country to her mind, and descended to a shady
walk, where, a few weeks since, the pale snow-
248 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
drops had spread like waves of that white fall
whose name they bear. On either side was a
straight row of yews, " Deuil de I'ete, et parure de
I'hiver;" and this ended in a little wilderness,
where the lithe and scented shrubs were placed in
careless yet graceful profusion. As yet, it was
rather the promise of spring than spring itself. A
faint green indicated the coming foliage ; though,
save on the early hawthorn, scarce one full-formed
leaf had expanded. But the air was sweet with
thousands of violets, for the turf was filled with
them ; and even their large and shadowy leaves
could not hide the azure multitudes that seemed
to have caught the shadow of noon's bluest sky.
In the midst was a small clear pool, which gave
back the first sunshine of the morning, and reflected
the rising of the earliest star. It was now silvered
over by the tremulous line of light which came
direct from the young moon, as if it were a love-
message, illumining the dark but clear waters, like
the one touch of poetry to be found in every human
heart. A few daffodils grew on the further side,
their pale beauty falling white upon the shadow,
the slender stalk bending over its own reflection in
vain desire. A few more sunny days, a few more
moonlight evenings, and it will repeat its own
sweet deceit, and strive in vain to reach its beloved
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 249
image. Nearer and nearer it droops every hour
seems to hasten their union. It comes, but it is
bought by death ; the leaves fall on the treacherous
mirror; and, lo! the likeness which they have
worshipped has perished with themselves fit
emblem of that passion for the ideal which haunts
the tender and the imaginative mind through life,
ever desired, and never realised. And who is
there that, at some time or other, has not devoted
the hope and the dream of life to a shadow ?
Close beside the tranquil pool, for the moon-
beams melted harmoniously into its quiet depths,
was an old tree. Two stems had once sprang
from the same root ; one had fallen, and the other
leant mournfully over the stream, as if sadly wait-
ing the time which would mingle its own dust with
that of its beloved companion, and weary of the
green honours of the coming spring, in which it
delighted no more. The old trunk was over-
grown with moss, and there Francesca took her
seat, flinging down violets on the water, and
fancying their fragrant breath, as they gradually
sank, reproached her for her prodigality.
" Yes, let them perish, even as all sweet emo-
tions perish! wasted by ourselves, or crushed
by others. Methinks I grow cruel, and am fain
to destroy even these poor flowers ! " exclaimed
M 2
250 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
Francesca, as she threw her last violet on the pool.
At that instant a rustling was heard among the
trees a quick step on the turf the boughs
parted and Robert Evelyn stood before her.
251
CHAPTER XXXI.
" I mean that willing sense of the insufficingness of the self
for itself which predisposes a generous nature to see, in the total
being of another, the supplement and completion of its own."
COLERIDGE.
AH me ! how poor, after all, is the boasted power
of the writer! his subject-words desert him at
" his utmost need : " but rather be the fault on
language itself; for how much is there of pas-
sionate feeling that could never yet be written or
told ! What form of speech may express the hap-
piness of the one half-hour passed beside that lonely
pool, which never before imaged a love -meeting
so perfect in its affection? the delicious silence
broken by unconscious exclamations; the asking
looks that question without a sound ; the forget-
fulness of past and future, as if life were centred
in this one present and dearest dream. Let it
pass unimaged, unless by memory. But happi-
ness is like that fairy flower whose home and
birth-place are the air, the most unstable of ele-
252 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
ments, tossed by every wind, destroyed by every
shower, the frailest, and yet most exposed, of
created things. Too soon Francesca was forced
to awaken to the precarious situation of her lover ;
an outlaw, he had yet ventured to the place of
all others where he was in the greatest danger,
where he was so well known, and which also con-
tained his worst enemies.
" Dearest Evelyn!" exclaimed she, roused by
hearing the Castle -clock, heard so distinctly in
the calm evening, " how rash to come here !
Why did not you write?"
" Write, Francesca, when I could come ! "
was his reply.
" Alas!" whispered the anxious girl, " it is a
dearly purchased pleasure that perils your safety
for a moment. Just now, I think I can rely upon
all being engaged ; but, God of Heaven ! I dare
not think on what a chance may effect ! I shall
not have one moment's peace till we meet again,
and yet tremble to think of the risk of that meet-
ing. But, oh, the King seems so kind so good-
natured, he can never refuse your pardon!"
" I shall have a powerful enemy in the Duke
of Buckingham," his companion started and red-
dened ; but she had mistaken the cause, for Evelyn
continued " Our estate has been confiscated,
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 253
and for his Grace's use ; it is too fair spoil to be
readily relinquished."
" Let the estate go, if you were but safe ;
but how can you hope to remain in this neigh-
bourhood undiscovered?"
" There are true hearts among our trusty
foresters ; I sleep as securely in the shelter of its
lonely glades as ever king did in his guarded
palace. Were it but for my father's sake, there
are many here who would forfeit life and land to
guard me from harm. Believe me, dearest, I am
in no danger."
" But you encounter all risks in seeking me
selfish that I am to feel so happy!"
" I can well forgive such selfishness ; but, tell
me, when shall I next see you ?"
" Alas, alas ! how can I see you, and yet not
trifle with your precious life ? I have no means
of communicating with you. Alice, my attendant,
is kind and true, but too timid and too simple for
trust."
" I can easily find messengers that may be
relied upon. I will send to you to-morrow, for I
must see you again. My beloved Francesca, our
destiny is now in our own hands. I can no longer
offer the fair halls and the broad lands of the once
honoured house of Evelyn ; my portion is. an ob-
254 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
scure home in a foreign country ; but if love tried
by years, by utter hopelessness, by what seemed
change in yourself, and which yet but became more
deep and more intense, if such love can be se-
curity for your future, that future, Francesca, you
will entrust to my care."
She said nothing, no colour rose into her pale
soft cheek ; but she looked up in his face, with her
whole soul in her eyes, and extended her hands
to him ; Evelyn caught them in his, and then
clasped her tenderly to his heart. " To-mor-
row ! " was the last word of each ; and he sprang
again into the thicket. Was ever music at once
so sweet and so sad as the echo of his receding
steps ?
Francesca stood listening long after they were
past. Slowly she returned towards the Castle,
but how changed since last she trod that path !
Her step was light, and a conscious smile played
round her beautiful mouth, while the gladness of
other days returned and lighted up her large
black eyes. How querulous, how unfounded did
her discontent now seem ! The bright records
of the last hour effaced all the darker traces left
by long and weary days. It was a long-forgotten
feeling the eager hope to which she resigned
herself. With the active fancy of her sex and
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 255
country, she called up their future life vividly be-
fore her. They would live in Italy, and those
summer skies, whose stars they had so often,
with all the poetry of early passion, called to
witness the gentle vows which love so delights
to make those very skies would brighten around
their home, where affection would more than real-
ise its promise and its dream.
Francesca could feel no regret at leaving Eng-
land. How much sorrow, how much anxiety, had
she known upon its soil ! Never had her southern
frame become accustomed to its chilling vapours
and its driving winds. How often had she turned
to the glorious elements, the green and fragrant
earth, the sunny atmosphere, of her delicious
land ! " I leave nothing," thought she, " but
Guide's grave." Lord Avonleigh she felt had no
claim. With what selfish indifference would he
have sacrificed her in the first instance ! His late
acknowledgment had been wrung from him in a
moment of hasty fear, when a heavy and terrible
misfortune had startled him with a superstitious
dread of a sudden judgment, which is the religion
of a weak mind. Since then, with what coldness,
what unkindness, had she been treated ! the one
selected victim of his petulance, because so de-
pendant upon it. And now, with what hard
256 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
cruelty had he decided upon her marriage! her
affections not only unconsulted, but derided ; his
own ambition the sole consideration to which her
happiness was to be sacrificed, and sacrificed as a
thing of nought not to be weighed for a moment
against his own marquisate and the future honours
of his line. " A few kind looks," thought she, " a
few encouraging words, a little, a very little love,
and I should have been so grateful ! and grateful
I should still be, for I am at least spared the strug-
gles of a divided duty."
Francesca returned to the gay circle in the
Castle, somewhat more silent than her wont, and
with eye more downcast her soul sought to brood
over its own sweet thoughts ; but there was a flush
of beautiful delight upon her face, and her mouth
relaxed with an unconscious smile.
" The dews of the evening have been a very
bath of beauty ! " whispered the Duke of Buck-
ingham.
Francesca blushed, and the Duke thought it
was at his own compliment.
" I am making some progress," was his agree-
able reflection. " I observe that she does not
blush at flattery in general ; she therefore blushes
because / flatter. Confusion is love's first symp-
tom."
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 257
He was mistaken, as people usually are when
self-love is in the question. Good Heaven !
when we observe what egregious nonsense other
people talk, what woful follies other people com-
mit, sure we must be tempted to turn upon our-
selves and ask " What do I do that is equally
silly 1 " We may feel quite sure that we form
no exception to the general rule ; we make our
mistakes like the rest, and take our turn in the
round of universal foolishness. Human egotism
is very much exaggerated. No one in reality oc-
cupies less of our thoughts than we do ourselves.
We seriously consider the qualities of others, we
dilate on their folly, question curiously on the
motives of their actions, and investigate all the re-
cesses of their minds into which we can penetrate.
We never do so by ourselves. Who ever sits
down to think over himself? Self is the only indi-
vidual we take for granted. Were the character
of any one of our friends to be sketched with
tolerable accuracy, we should recognise the like-
ness at once ; but let our own, drawn to the very
life, be brought before us, we should not know it,
and even when told, we should in all probability
deny the acquaintance.
The Comtesse de Soissons read the bright co-
lour that fluctuated on Francesca's cheek more
258 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
accurately. The moment they were alone, she ex-
claimed
" You have seen Mr. Evelyn?"
" To-night!" replied her companion, in a fal-
tering voice, as if afraid to trust the very air with
her treasured secret.
" You look very pretty on the strength of it.
I only wish a lover improved my complexion as
it does yours. But I don't take these matters
much to heart now. And so, in the true spirit of
a knight-errant, our hero has run into all sorts of
dangers and difficulties, as if on purpose to shew
his lady what a very imprudent choice she has
made ! Well, I intend enacting la fee lumineuse or
bienfaisante who is to extricate you. Just dra-
matise the situation take Charles by surprise;
and my diamonds against your destiny, that our
fairy tale ends with a benevolent monarch, a mar-
riage, and a ' they lived very happy for the rest
of their lives.'"
259
CHAPTER XXXII.
" That day, the first of a re-union,
Which was to teem with lip communion."
WORDSWORTH.
EVELYN was soon in the depths of the forest after
his parting with his mistress. If her image did
not entirely occupy his mind, it at least reigned
paramount over every other conjured up by the
scene. And herein lies the difference between the
love of man and that of woman. In his active
and hurried career, it is impossible that love
should hold the lonely and undivided empire it
does over an existence of which it is at once the
occupation and the resource. It is in solitude that
the imagination exercises its gigantic power ; and
where are a woman's feelings nurtured but in
solitude ? The one passes so few hours alone, the
other passes so many. What impassioned thoughts,
how much of that poetry which first creates and
then colours the future, haunt the lonely morn-
260 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
ings and the long evenings, when the tapestry
grows almost mechanically beneath the hand, but
when the mind is wholly given up to the heart ! A
young girl has rarely any thing to call forth that
romance inherent in every nature but the idea of
her lover ; and what a world of deep and beauti-
ful feeling is lavished there! Every reverie in
which she indulges is a poem, filled with the fan-
ciful, the true, and yet the unreal.
But, however deeply and entirely a man may
love, he can only yield to its influence the hur-
ried moment, the occasional thought. Every day
brings its toil and its struggle ; and to meet these
demands his mind must give its utmost energies.
He cannot pass weeks, months ay, and years
the eye fixed upon its daily task, but the fancies
wandering far, far away. His soul must be in its
labour : all the active paths in life are his own,
and he must bring to their mastery, hope, thought,
patience, and strength; he may turn sometimes
to the flowers on the way -side, but the great
business of life must be for ever before him. The
heart which a woman could utterly fill were un-
worthy to be her shrine. His rule over her is
despotic and unmodified ; but her power over him
must be shared with a thousand other influences.
Francesca herself would more than have par-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 261
doned she would have sympathised with the
memories of pain and regret that flung a deeper
shadow on his path than even the ancient branches
that swung mournfully above.
He was oppressed by a nameless terror in his
soul he seemed conscious of the actual presence
of that inexorable destiny whose iron rule is over
this world ; in whose tyranny there is no pity, and
from whose decree there is no escape. Toys that
we are in that cruel and gigantic hand, we think,
plan, resolve, and execute, when, lo ! some slight
circumstance defeats our utmost wisdom ; or else
the issue of our effort has been the very reverse of
our hope. And yet we boast, " the soul to do,
the will to dare," while every hour that passes by
mocks us with our infirmity, and every event
laughs our purposes to scorn.
He was now pursuing the very paths that had
been haunted by his youthful dreams : how had
their generous hopes been disappointed how had
their best efforts failed ! What a lesson of hu-
man inconsistency was graved on the last few
years ! England had been laid desolate as by a
foreign war the best blood in the country poured
forth like water noble feelings wasted, evil ones
called from their hiding-places by impunity
battles fought on the harvest-field lives spared
262 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
by the sword demanded by the scaffold, and for
what? The tumult was over, and all things re-
turned to their old place ; and the abuse remained
without remedy, and the wrong without redress.
Ah ! if the doctrine of amelioration be true, what
a mighty debt does the future owe to the past !
And alas for those who have gone before! Me-
thinks the struggle has been but ill repaid.
Evelyn pursued his way through the forest,
often pausing to note its familiar beauty. The sky
was of that faint blue which, together with the
thin white clouds flitting over it, indicate a change
about to take place in the atmosphere, as if the
present calm were too spiritual to last. The germ,
not the leaf, was on the bough : but the boughs
alone cast a deep shadow around, save when some
fair glade was filled with moonlight, and the
ground shone silvery and tremulous ; for the beam
on the long grass had an effect like water.
More than once, through an opening in the
outskirt, he caught sight of a shadowy outline on
the air, and knew the turrets of his old ancestral
halls. " How many of my fathers," thought he,
" have dwelt there in glad security, while I, the
last of their name, wander proscribed on a soil
once their own ! Ah, Francesca ! we could have
been very happy to have dwelt beloved within those
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 263
walls, with no wider circle of usefulness than our
own tenantry, and our hopes bounded by our daily
horizon,"
His path now led into the deeper recesses of
the wood silent, and solitary depths of shade,
known but by few. His passing parted the near
branches, and startled the deer from their slum-
ber amid the wild flowers. He could see the
timid creatures darting away, the moonlight glit-
tering on their horns, till they vanished amid the
darker shade which rested on the far-off and hid-
den dells.
His course now lay along a little brook, which
rippled on its way, singing like a child out of the
gladness of its own heart ; and he listened, for
his ear was caught by the sweet low music which
the pebbles made amid those tiny waves. Sud-
denly there came the faint echo of some unusual
sound, it grew more distinct as he drew nearer,
and at last he could distinguish the union of many
voices chanting a grave and solemn air, whose
melody came strange and sweet on the midnight
wind. He could soon hear the words they were
those of the twenty-third Psalm ; and the beauti-
ful expression of entire confidence in the Almighty
eye that was to watch over their safety, and in the
Almighty hand that was to guide, came like a
264 FRANCESCA CAR]
rebuke to the questioning discontent of his pre-
vious mood. What were the few passing bubbles
of this life in the boundless eternity whose balance
is hidden far from human eye ?
Evelyn paused on the top of a hanging bank,
which enabled him to command the scene below.
Some twenty or thirty men and women were ga-
thered in the ill-omened dell, which took its name
from Rufus's Stone. Most of the faces were fa-
miliar to him, and all wore the same exalted and
earnest expression, as every eye was upraised to
the moonlit heaven, and every lip joined in the
sacred song. In the midst stood one who leant
exhausted against a tree listening intent, but
lacking power to swell the solemn strain. He was
so wan, so altered, that Evelyn at first could
scarcely recognise Major Johnstone.
It was obvious that this was one of those meet-
ings held by the stricter sect of the Puritans, who,
debarred from the free exercise of their religious
observances, were fain to congregate in the lone
forest and the silent night, and render up that
worship whose danger was the best proof of its
sincerity. There was not a stir nor a sound save
that harmonious chant, which rose as if ascend-
ing, a worthy offering, to the Heaven above. The
forest was like a mighty cathedral : the arches of
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 265
the dark boughs were motionless like marble,
while the pale moonlight kindled the glorious
roof a temple consecrated by the Eternal to his
worship !
The young exile felt his spirit grow calm, and
the beatings of his heart more still, as he listened
to a hymn so often heard in boyhood, and never
without reverence.
The notes died away in the distance ; a light
breeze sprang up and ruffled the leaves, as if the
natural unrest of that vast wilderness had only
been hushed by the influence of that calm and
holy song. The voice of prayer now arose, and
the group knelt, with folded hands and bowed
faces, on the earth. Evelyn could hear the sup-
plications for help in their present trouble, while
some implored a blessing on what seemed a great
and painful enterprise.
Evelyn was now convinced that he saw a band
of those determined emigrants whom he had
before heard were about to quit that country
whose rulers, with short-sighted policy, would
have persecuted them to the death, or else forced
them into hypocrisy, as if the sincere and the
conscientious were not the very sinews of their
country, or as if any form or ceremony could
VOL. III. N
266 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
justify the interference of man between man and
his God!
The government of Charles soon departed from
its early moderation. The Puritans were ob-
noxious in every point of view both as regarded
the past, with which revenge, both public and
private, had a long and bitter reckoning, and on
account of the pure severity of their manners, in
such contrast to the license gaining ground every
hour, and which, if it did not pay the homage
of hypocrisy, at least yielded the acknowledgment
of inveterate dislike. Moreover, their uncom-
promising adherence to what they believed to be
matter of conscience, was a perpetual reproach
on the time-serving expediency of a court, which
looked not beyond immediate indulgence and pre-
sent convenience.
Fine, imprisonment, and contumely, met the
more rigid at every turn ; and many began to
loosen the ties which bound them to their native soil,
and look to a dwelling beyond the ocean, where
at least they might worship their God in peace.
For this they met amid the forest boughs, in-
stead of beneath the ivyed roof and within the
white walls of churches, which had become places
of insult to their belief ; and a brief hour was
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 267
snatched from night and sleep to pass in prayer
and praise.
But the present time had a duty heside its
religious offices. The group now assembled in
that lonely dell assembled there for the last time.
Never more would that accustomed atmosphere
be filled with the voice of their thanksgiving
never more would those wild flowers yield to their
knees bent in prayer ! other and mightier forests
would echo their sacred song, and a strange
herbage be pressed in their hour of adoration.
Even now, the vessel rocked upon the waters,
and in three days those pilgrims would be on
their way to America. The everlasting Shepherd,
who had guided his chosen people through the
wilderness, his hand would be over them as well,
and the broad Atlantic would yield at last another
Canaan of peace and rest.
Evelyn saw many whom he knew well, and
only waited till the service was completed to speak
to them. But the assembly had hardly risen from
their last act of silent prayer, when Major John-
stone addressed them. At first his voice was
almost inaudible ; but soon the spirit mastered
the body, and his hollow but distinct tones gained
a supernatural strength. His face was colourless,
268 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
his large and sunken eyes gleamed with a strange
and lurid light ; his thin hand upraised shone
in the moonlight so emaciated was it, and so
wan. The damps glistened visibly on his brow,
and there was not a listener but felt that he was
in the presence of death.
269
CHAPTER XXXIII.
" There is a nobler glory, which survives
Until our being fades."
SHELLEY.
THE body and the soul are not friends, but
enemies. The one curbs and confines, the other
wears and shatters. Perpetual is the terrible
struggle, till death parts the mortal and the im-
mortal ; and life, the riddle, is lost in the deeper
secrets of eternity. And yet, though constant has
been the warfare, how fearful is the parting!
what unutterable visions what awful revealings
what dark knowledge, haunt the final hour!
Long vigils fastings that wore away the strength
of day prayers that banished sleep from night
hoarded vengeance, that, like a fire, consumed its
abode affections crushed to the very earth a
memory whose love was with the grave a faith
that had coloured itself with mortal passion, all
these had pressed too heavily on the springs of
270 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
life and thought ; and that stern fanatic and
republican had long stood upon the verge of in-
sanity and death. He had been chosen as leader
of the emigrants about to cross the wide Atlantic ;
and his energy had been the stimulus and the
bond of their union. He felt the chill of that
earth with which he was so soon to mingle
creeping over him. His hands stiffened as he
extended them ; but his purpose was still strong
within him.
" Mourn not," he exclaimed, " that ye are
about to quit the green fields and the pleasant
gardens in which your eye delighted mourn not
for the homes wherein ye have dwelt from in-
fancy. Let the porch be deserted, and let the
stranger sit by your hearth. Never more will ye
hear the bells on a Sabbath morning, breaking
the sacred calm that rests on the quiet valleys, and
calling ye to pray where your fathers have prayed,
and awakening all old memories of love and re-
verence, as ye pass the graves where the green
grass and the wild flowers are undisturbed as
the sleep which they make beautiful. All these
must ye leave behind ; all that ye have held
sacred, all that is most precious, must now be as
the things of yesterday. Your path is across the
stormy waters your home in the primeval forest.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 271
The wild beast will howl around your resting-
place, and the fierce Indian will track your way ;
the voice of the torrent and the tempest will
be familiar as the singing brook and the April
shower ; the fruits of the earth will be strange to
your taste, and its herbage strange to your eye ;
the redbreast will never more stand by your
threshold, but the bird of prey will darken the
sunshine, and the snake cross your daily vision.
Danger, and toil, and long suffering, are before
ye, but faint not on the way which it is appointed
ye shall go. The Lord is with you, and be not
cast down, though ye suffer for conscience' sake.
The mighty wilderness will hear the voice of your
prayers. Ye will build yourselves houses beneath
its ancient trees ; your fields will reward your toil,
and your cities arise fair and strong ; and though
ye now abandon the graves of your fathers, your
children will dwell in faith and hope around your
own. Go ! in the name and for the dear sake of
that Saviour whose name ye will not hear out-
raged, and whose altar it is yours to keep free
from a stain."
Suddenly the speaker paused, his whole frame
agitated by a convulsive motion; his face shook
with yet more deadly whiteness, and his eyes, wild
and dilated, fixed on Robert Evelyn, who, in the
272 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
interest of listening, had stepped beyond the shade
of the boughs, while the moonlight fell full on his
uncovered head.
The excited imagination of Major Johnstone
was impressed with but one image that of the
young cavalier whom he had sentenced to death .
He believed that the tomb had sent back its prey,
to mock his hopes and rise up in judgment
against him. Strange, he had never felt regret
he had held his act but the execution of a
righteous judgment. Now, like still waters chafed
by a sudden tempest, a flood of remorse rushed at
once upon his soul.
" Come ye in warning or in mockery?" mut-
tered he, in a half -choked voice. " Francis
Evelyn, I adjure ye, speak ! " and he sank back
senseless in the arms of those beside him.
All gathered round ; but when it was per-
ceived that he was slowly recovering, many ap-
proached Evelyn with words of welcome and of
wonder.
" He mistook you for your brother," said an
old man, who was rubbing the rigid hands he
held in his own. " It was a harsh judgment that
sentenced that young and brave cavalier to die
like a dog. He might have been spared, had it
been but for his father's sake."
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 273
It was some time before Johnstone recovered
the full use of his faculties ; his eyes unclosed but
to stare fixedly upon the bank, which, however,
was now unoccupied. He then remained for some
moments in silence and inward prayer ; when the
same old man who had spoken before, said,
" Here is a young friend of yours asking for you ;
he used to be a favourite, Robert Evelyn."
" I did not spare his brother for his sake, nor
yet for the sake of his father mine own and fa-
miliar friend ! " and again he relapsed into moody
silence.
He was roused by Evelyn's approach, who
could have no feeling but pity for the worn-out
and dying being. He asked some questions re-
specting the proposed emigration; and again the
haggard countenance before him kindled with the
heart's strong purpose.
"It is the will of Heaven !" exclaimed John-
stone, in a tone of strong excitement. " I know
that at this moment I stand on the threshold of
eternity ! I have looked on that which none can
see and live. I shall sleep in the green earth of
England. Robert Evelyn, in the name of your
God and of your father, I commission you in my
stead. Lead ye this remnant of true believers
across the unfathomable ocean ; guide them amid
274 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
the gloomy forests of that other world : may their
safety be required at your hands, and may power
and judgment be given unto you ! You are young,
but brave and thoughtful beyond your years. Do
ye accept him as your leader?" said he, address-
ing those around. A low but impressive murmur
came from every lip ; and the speaker, turning
to Evelyn, bade him kneel that he might bless
him.
Evelyn knelt upon the ground, and bowed
his head. Involuntarily he started at the touch
of the icy hand which pressed down his hair.
Major Johnstone strove to speak, but the words
died in an inarticulate gurgle low in his throat ;
and Evelyn had only time to start from his
knee, and save the dying man from falling to the
earth.
They spread a cloak upon the grass, and laid
him there, while Evelyn supported his head. His
features grew black and rigid, and his eyes seemed
to refuse to close as if conscious that, were they
once to yield, they would be dark for ever.
Suddenly he raised himself, and whispered, " I
have a letter for you."
With a strong effort, he took a scroll from his
bosom ; it was that written by Francis Evelyn
previous to his execution. " I would the heavens
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 275
were not red with that young blood, it darkens,
darkens!"
The words expired on his lips his mouth fell
his head sank upon Evelyn's shoulder, the others
gathered round, and gazed upon the dead !
276
CHAPTER XXXIV.
" Happiness !
It is the gay to-morrow of the mind,
Which never comes."
BARRY CORNWALL.
" Now, I am quite sure that our beautiful hostess
has been making an assignation," soliloquised
Charles, who, for want of something better to do,
had been watching the various actions of the group
in the principal chamber in the castle, where
every window was open to the soft south wind,
and the air was vocal with the humming bees,
and sweet with the breath of the flowers placed in
gay profusion on the terrace.
He had noted, with his usual quick glance at
a pretty face, Francesca's attendant catch her mis-
tress's eye before she approached, and that, under
the pretence of bringing her some music, she had
given a note. The maid sustained her part with
great readiness not so the mistress.
Francesca's hand trembled as she broke the
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 277
seal, and the colour rose crimson to her temples
as she glanced at its contents. With ill-concealed
trepidation, she penned a brief and hurried an-
swer ; and Charles saw with what tremulous anx-
iety it was given to the girl, who shewed a true
genius for her vocation, and, by dint of throwing
down some loose sheets of music, and then picking
them up, contrived to place herself between her
lady and the rest of the company.
Alice left the room ; but Francesca still busied
herself with the strings of her guitar. A very
novice in deception, she fancied all must notice
her manoeuvre, and could as little restrain the
vivid blush as she could still the beatings of her
heart.
Charles followed the girl into the gallery, down
which she was slowly proceeding, holding the little
twisted scroll in her hand, and looking at it with
that expression of fear and curiosity which seems
to say, " Now, if you were not so intricately
folded, I would open you and see your contents ;
but I shall not be able to replace these folds in
proper order if I do still, I have a great mind
to try."
Her indecision was of short duration ; for
Charles, whose approach she had not perceived,
suddenly snatched the note from her hand, and,
278 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
well acquainted with the mysteries of its shape,
opened it, and read its contents, before the girl
had recovered her surprise.
" A pretty messenger you are," said the vola-
tile intruder, " to let your mistress's notes be
caught in this manner ! Why, you are not worth
your ribands ! I shall certainly take this one back
to the Lady Francesca, and give her some good
advice how she sends letters by you any more."
The girl had but her sex's usual resource, and
she availed herself of it that is, she began to cry,
or rather whimper, exclaiming, " that she should
lose her place!"
" Place! place!" said the King " if it comes
to that, you must have the paper back again.
There is a fatality in the word: ' place! place!'
is the cry with every one who comes near me.
For God's sake, keep your present one for really
I have none vacant at this moment."
" There you have unfolded it !" And in her
despair at the numerous folds, Alice forgot to ob-
serve the contents.
" Pshaw! there, all's right again but you
must pay me for my trouble." So saying, he re-
twisted the note, kissed the bearer, and walked
off with a careless composure.
The damsel might admire, but not emulate.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 279
One good effect, however, was derived from the
interruption; she now only became impatient to
get rid of a note which had caused so much
trouble already, and might occasion more; and
in five minutes it was safe in the keeping of a
boy who waited for it, and who, the moment he
received it, darted off with a rapidity which might
have served as an example to Alice when sent on
her next message. Like most good examples, it
was not one by which she was likely to profit.
The truth is, Alice felt her dignity compromised.
Her lady evidently had a mystery, and she was
not intrusted with it. This led to two resolutions :
first, to discover ; secondly, to reveal it.
Some one says, Keep your secret yourself, for
how can you expect others to do that which you
cannot? Still, I am persuaded more secrets are
revealed by being kept than by being told. You
enlist a person's honour, and, still dearer, their
vanity, on your side by confidence. We all desire
to deserve the good opinion which we believe we
have inspired ; but distrust awakens all that is
little and mean within us. Why should we be
better than we are held to be ? We are mortified
by not being thought worthy of trust ; and there
is also a feeling of small triumph in circumvent-
ing those who doubt either our inclination or our
280 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
power of service. We like to shew that we are
not the nonentities for which we were taken.
The contents of the epistle which had excited
so much curiosity were but a few words ; but how
much did they imply! They ran thus: " Meet
me to-night, between seven and eight, by the little
pool in the wilderness. I think we are there
secure from disturbance." There was neither ad-
dress nor signature.
" The appointment is expected," thought
Charles, " and the lady's handwriting too well
known to need her name. Every precaution is
taken, so that, even if the note were lost, it would
not be of much consequence. So much caution
indicates a most promising mystery nous ver-
rons." And the King returned to the terrace,
where Madame de Soissons was talking to the
Duke of Buckingham and the Chevalier de Join-
ville. They looked so well amused that he de-
cided upon joining them.
" I am glad," said the Comtesse, " of your
Grace's appearance. Will you interpose your
authority, and insist upon their being convinced ?
It is very provoking to be so much in the right,
as I am, and for them not to perceive it."
" Mine is a limited monarchy," said Charles,
smiling ; " but I will exert my utmost influence
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 281
on your side of the question, when I know what
it is."
" I am maintaining that it is a mistake ever
to regret the past."
" Ah, Madame ! a week hence, and I shall not
be able to agree with you. Nay, the mere fore-
knowledge that you will soon only have me in
your remembrance convinces me that regret is
man's natural destiny."
" I will take the compliment for the present,
and wave it for the future. I am universal in my
views, and see no reason why I should be regretted
more than any thing else. What is the use of
regretting the inevitable? and if not inevitable,
it is better to remedy than to regret."
" But not so easy," remarked De Joinville.
" We should never spare our trouble," re-
turned she ; " the trouble our wishes or pleasures
give us is the secret of their enjoyment. Ask the
Duke, if the possession of any heart ever equalled
the pursuit."
" Ah," said Buckingham, " that is because
no heart is worth the trouble which it took to
win."
" There I agree with you ; but the trouble was
worth itself."
" I must protest," exclaimed De Joinville,
282 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" against your sweeping assertion, that every
heart is worthless."
" Oh, I will admit of exceptions ; but the very
exception proves the rule. Love-making would
be very insipid, but for the little difficulties, vani-
ties, and misunderstandings, which diversify its
progress."
" A lover's progress," added the Duke, " is
like the races which the ancients were wont to run,
carrying torches the competitors usually contrived
to extinguish their light before they reached the
goal. So, in love ay, in life one bright hope
dies away after another, and leaves us nothing
but to regret that it was our own hurry that put
them out."
" Regret again !" exclaimed Madame de Sois-
sons. " Instead of lamenting over the extinguished
torch, we ought to try to kindle another."
" Or rather," replied De Joinville, " do with-
out either. We should try to cultivate monotony
much more than we do. We work ourselves up
into excitement, when we should rather compose
ourselves into content. We should trace and re-
trace our steps. No path appears so short as that
which is well known. Ah ! change is a great
error the variety of existence only reminds us
of its weight. Who are the happiest individuals
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 283
of our acquaintance ? Those whose existence re-
volves in the smallest possible circle men whose
daily horizon is bounded by their dinner women
whose hope extends not beyond their knitting
needles. We should endeavour to forget that we
are alive ; instead of that, we keep renewing the
mournful remembrance in every possible manner.
We aggravate our miseries by mocking them with
the name of pleasures. We insist upon disap-
pointment by the pure force of unreasonable ex-
pectations."
" Well/ 7 interrupted Buckingham, " honour
to the system which Pythagoras discovered in a
bean -field ! Pray, believe in it with all possible
haste and fervour. They say faith works miracles ;
and the doctrine of transmigration holds out a
prospect of future felicity to you, as an oyster or
a dormouse."
" Or a stick, or a stone," said Charles.
" No, no, the oyster for me," replied De Join-
ville. " Let me have the consciousness of repose.
Happiness is nothing, unless we know it."
"And hence it is nothing," rejoined Bucking-
ham ; " for who knows that they are happy?"
" We are much happier than we like to admit,"
said the Comtesse ; " but complaint is too gratify-
ing to our complacency. We love to talk of our-
284 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
selves, but we are obliged to manoeuvre for listeners.
Were we to dilate on our beauty, our wit, or our
wealth, all the self-love of our auditors would be
up in arms against our own; they would never
have patience to hear the list of our inherent or
acquired advantages. But let them triumph over
us, and we insure their patient attention. Gratified
envy takes the shape of pity, while we mourn
our misfortunes, our faithless friends, and all
the bead-roll of grievances which authorises the
luxury of lamentation. The truth is, we like to
talk over our disasters, because they are ours;
and others like to listen, because they are not
theirs."
" You take a bitter view of human nature,"
said Charles.
" Mais, mon Dieu! it is the truth," replied
the Comtesse. " Let me say the very worst of
it that I can, I do not say half so much as it
deserves."
" As representatives of the human race," re-
plied the Duke, " we beg to offer our grateful
thanks for your good opinion unless you mean
to make an exception in favour of your friends."
" Most assuredly not," was her answer; " for
it is among my friends that I have acquired my
experience."
285
CHAPTER XXXV.
" One freeman more, America, to thee !"
BYRON.
THE meeting in the forest had completely changed
Evelyn's position. A band of fifty individuals,
to many of whom he was bound by former ties of
service, and with whom he was linked by the
strong bond of mutual belief and opinion, now
looked up to him as their leader. He felt the
responsibility in which he was so suddenly in-
volved, but he did not shrink from it. A channel
was now opened for the efforts which it had
hitherto seemed so fruitless to make, and for the
energy which, during months past, had wasted
itself in dreams of the impossible. The wild sa-
vannah and the dense forest rose vividly before his
imagination. The one would soon grow golden
with its summer harvest, and the other soon ring
with the axe, the first sound of coming civilisation.
There might be danger, there would certainly
be difficulties; but what danger has not human
286 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
courage braved and what difficulty has not
human patience surmounted?
America was then, as now, the Utopia where
both the religious and political enthusiast saw
visions and dreamed dreams. Little could they
anticipate the wonderful and practical fulfilment of
their wildest expectations of liberty and prosperity.
Little could Evelyn foresee, when he but hoped
that those deep woods would afford a shelter from
persecution, and a home to a little band of per-
secuted exiles how a few (few when we think
what they have accomplished) passing years would
level multitudes of those giant trees, fling open to
the sun those secluded glades, and in the haunt
of the wild pigeon and the woodpecker build up
stately and vast cities, whose destiny is but now
beginning. When Robert Evelyn pictured to him-
self the lonely canoe destined to bear himself and
his small and adventurous bands down the silver
stream of some river unconscious of the white man's
skill, how little did he deem that the hour was on
its way when a thousand vessels would cleave the
rapid tide, bodiless air working as their servant,
and the banks would swarm with multitudes busy
in all the various toils of daily subsistence, minis-
tering to a commerce whose home is the world.
Child of the Earth's old age, America is the
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 287
favourite on whom a double portion has been
lavished. The glorious sky, the fertile soil, the
harvest ready above, the mine rich beneath, and,
more than all, a brave, free, and intelligent race,
who but must feel that the world's great destinies
are yet unaccomplished, when the mind dwells on
the glorious promise which kindles the far shores
of the broad Atlantic ? The most creative imagina-
tion avails not to picture the noon of that mighty
hemisphere now in its infancy. Other nations
have sprung up amid darkness and disorder ; but
America commenced its onward career when our
world was in its prime, and has the experience of
all civilisation for its beacon. Commerce, science,
and freedom, are its fates ; and the web over which
they preside is but begun.
But one dearest interest mingled with the
future in Evelyn's meditation. Alas ! it was a
hard choice that he had to offer Francesca. How
often during that night did he re-trim the lamp
that burnt beside his lowly pallet, to read his
brother's letter ! " Good God !" thought he, " is
it possible that one human being can so trifle with
the happiness of another, in the more reckless
pursuit of excitement and amusement? Had he
really loved her, I at least must have pardoned
him I, who know how very, very dear she is.
288 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
But he had not even the excuse of passion to plead
for his violation of my confidence, his betrayal of
my affection I need to recall his untimely grave
while I forgive him. Alas ! how our youth has
been wasted in doubt and sorrow and to know
how happy it might have been ! How much
anxiety, too, would our previous marriage have
removed ! The wife with whom I had shared my
prosperity would not have turned aside from that
adversity which I shrink from offering to my
bride. And yet, methinks, I might judge her
heart by my own. No change could alter the
deep affection treasured there."
He was right, both in his regret and in his
reliance. It must be matter of pain to any man
to know that his love must demand sacrifices
and too well did Evelyn feel that for his sake
Francesca must renounce home, father, friends,
station, country the privileges of gentle birth,
the delicacies of wealth; that for his sake she
must prepare to meet difficulty, privation, hard-
ship, danger, and even death. It was hard
for a lover to have only such a choice to lay
before the beloved one. And yet he was right
in his entire confidence. Francesca loved him as
those love who have loved but once the fresh-
ness and truth of early years strengthened by
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 289
trial and by absence. She had essayed the value
of affection both in its possession and its want;
and she felt the strong confidence of an attach-
ment at once thoughtful and passionate, in a fu-
ture shared by Robert Evelyn. Life could have
no path so rugged but what she were content to
track at his side. Evelyn preferred speaking to
writing ; he had asked an interview, with some-
thing of affection's gentle cunning in his thoughts.
Surely, when painted by him, the future would
not seem so desolate ; and, moreover, he could
read the impression in her eyes before her words
found utterance. Their interview that night would
determine all.
Evening came at last, though never had day
seemed so long to Francesca. The constant con-
sciousness of having something to conceal harassed
her like a spectre. Her feverish and excited ima-
gination conjured up every possible variety of mis-
fortune, and read cause to fear or to suspect in
every face around. She could not help contrast-
ing her fate with that of Hortense Mancini, who,
having decided on selecting her own choice, fairly
set her uncle at defiance an uncle to whom she
owed at least the obedience of gratitude and yet
every circumstance combined to favour her. The
very plan laid to unite her with another only
VOL. III. O
290 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
enabled her to meet Meilleraye with less restraint.
The worst she had to apprehend were a harsh
word, a dark brow, and perhaps delay ; but her
own constancy was only needful to secure the
future. " We were born on the same spot we
have grown up together yet how different," ex-
claimed Francesca, " has our lot in life been !"
She thought mournfully on Guide's early grave ;
and its darkness seemed to gather over herself.
Madame de Soissons entered into none of her
apprehensions, and felt all the pride of art in the
necessary deception. As the hour approached she
contrived to collect the whole circle round her;
but as Buckingham and Lord Avonleigh were the
only persons likely to interfere with Francesca's
arrangements, to them her attention was chiefly
devoted. The Duke accepted her challenge to
the card-table, and Lord Avonleigh was detained
to give his advice and even about an odd trick
it is pleasant to have one's advice asked and taken .
She paid attention to Lord Avonleigh, with a little
feeling of triumph all the time to think she was
duping him ; and the Duke had a similar sensa-
tion towards herself for he was quite persuaded
that he had at length succeeded in conciliating
Francesca's most influential friend.
Considering what a useful thing deception is
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 291
the first and last lesson taught by what is called
knowledge of the world it is woful to observe
how much of it is wasted. In nine cases out of
ten, the most ingenious invention not only does
not answer, but even defeats its own purpose.
How much attention is thrown away, how often
is flattery mistaken, and how many of our devices,
like ostriches, blind their own eyes, and fancy
others are blinded too ! In the present case, dan-
ger, as usual, lurked in the quarter the least sus-
pected. In the morning the King had been wearied
with another of those loyal and long-winded de-
putations which Lord Avonleigh deemed such a
credit to the county ; and, drawing an arm-chair
into one of the recesses by a window which opened
upon the terrace, declared, that, were it but for
his own credit, he must sleep off the effects. " I
believe," exclaimed he, " stupidity is infectious."
" I wish your Grace pleasant dreams," said
Madame de Soissons, as she passed by on her way
to the card-table.
" If your image haunts them, I cannot go to
sleep too quickly."
Marie did not observe how soon the sleep to
be charmed by her smile was flung aside, and that
the opened casement afforded an easy escape to
the awakened truant.
292 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
In the mean time Francesca had withdrawn
under that universal feminine excuse a headach;
and indeed it was no pretext, for her temples
throbbed with the feverish pain brought on by
agitation; and lip and cheek were alike pale.
It was a relief to find herself in the open air ; and
with a rapid and light step she hurried towards
the wilderness ; when, to her surprise and dismay,
as she turned a sharp corner in the shaded path
which led towards it, Charles stood immediately
before her. It was equally impossible to retreat
or to advance without speaking to him.
" I see," said he, with a smile, " that you,
like myself, are trying the effect of this sweet
evening for the headach. I have already found
it very efficacious, and so, I think, have you,"
again smiling, as he noticed the deep blush which
his sudden appearance had produced. " Do,
pray, take compassion on me," continued he,
" and allow me to accompany you on your walk.
The evening is very lovely, and the quiet of this
place delightful ; but I always need a companion
to enjoy the charms of solitude."
What could Francesca do, but say, in an al-
most inarticulate voice, that " she was very happy?"
The King enjoyed her confusion, and took his
place at her side ; and, if any thing could add to
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 293
Francesca's consternation, it was, that he took the
exact path that led to the little pool, beside which
she was to meet Evelyn. Madame de Soissons
would have had a thousand resources in this emer-
gency Francesca could imagine but one, and that
one so difficult, it seemed almost impossible.
" I trust,' 7 said Charles, " you will not think
that I undervalue my present felicity, when I re-
mark upon the cruelty of fortune. What an op-
portunity of calling ' yonder moon to aid his
vows' is lost for ever to Buckingham!"
This was said maliciously ; for the speaker well
knew nothing embarrasses a woman more than talk-
ing of one lover while she is thinking of another.
" There is something," continued he, " in this
soft and gentle air, that makes one feel quite cha-
ritable. I am almost inclined to fetch George
here, and go for ever after by the name of the
martyr to friendship."
" I beg," replied Francesca, " that you will do
no such thing."
" Oh! you are satisfied with myself, are you?
very flattering. What shall I do to shew my
gratitude make love to you?"
" It were a pity that two things that I hold so
precious love and your Grace's time should be
so utterly wasted as they would be on me."
294 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" I can assure you, I should not think either
wasted on your adorable self."
" But I should," answered Francesca, calmly.
" You are not a judge, " said Charles, some-
what piqued. A little confusion would have flat-
tered him ; but self-possession is the most provok-
ing thing in the world.
" I am, as far as concerns myself."
" You are quite wrong to speak so decidedly.
A pretty woman should never have an opinion of
her own. Indecision is so very charming."
" I am afraid it is a charm quite wanting in
myself. I both make up my mind and keep
to it."
" Pray, have you made up your mind as to
what sort of a lover you would like?"
" I have."
" You have rather taken me by surprise. I
expected you to say that you never thought of
such things that you never expected to have a
lover at all."
" I should not then have spoken the truth."
" I begin to suspect that you have some lover
or other in your head."
" In my heart, please your Grace."
" You are very candid," exclaimed Charles.
" I mean to be still more so," replied Fran-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 295
cesca, in a low, earnest voice, " if you will take the
next path, and permit me to accompany you part
of the way on your return to the Castle."
" In short, you want to get rid of me, as you
are going to meet some one more favoured. And,
pray, who is the cavalier ? "
" I must rely on your honour as a gentleman,
that the confidence you have drawn from me will
be sacred. I fear me the name will find but little
favour in your eyes. I am about to meet one
whose life is risked in the meeting, an outlaw
Robert Evelyn."
The King started in displeasure and surprise.
" And how did you become acquainted with that
young fanatic and rebel?"
" In earlier and happier days. We met four
years ago in Italy."
" And why did you not marry then?"
" He had not his father's consent ; and I could
not leave an aged parent, then dependent on my
'care."
" And have you not met since?"
" Never till within the last two days. God
knows, our attachment has, from the first, been
surrounded by distress and by difficulties ! "
" And yet you have loved on ? But no marvel
that he now seeks Lord Avonleigh's heiress !"
296
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" Lord Avonleigh's heiress will be none to
him. The hour that sees me his wife sees me
portionless, and exiled like himself."
" But do you consider the folly of renouncing
all your present advantages ? As Duchess of
Buckingham, think what a brilliant destiny offers
itself to your acceptance ! "
" I am as indifferent to the Duke's rank and
wealth as I am to himself. More I cannot say."
" And have you no fear of the dreary realities
of seclusion and exile, when the present romance
of an excited fancy shall pass away ? "
" Were I actuated but by a mere fancy, I
might tremble to act upon its hasty impulse. But
there is a love that is stronger than death, and
deeper than life ; for whose sake the sacrifice is
light ay, even unfelt. It is a love which, born
of the pure and fresh feelings of youth, grows with
your growth and strengthens with your strength
a love which would give sweetness to a palace
and glory to a cottage a love prepared to sufferf
to endure, and yet suffice unto its own happiness
tried by time, by doubt, even by despair, and yet
living on the heart's deepest hope, and life's
dearest tie. Such a love do I feel for Robert
Evelyn." Her beautiful eyes filled with light,
and her cheek grew pale with intense emotion.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 297
Charles gazed on her for a moment so spiri-
tual, so touching was the expression of her perfect
features. He took her hand kindly, and said,
" Mr. Evelyn is happy, very happy. I know not
what are his views in coming to England at this
moment. You, fair lady, shall be the guarantee
of his peaceable intentions. Since I find that his
exile includes yours, and as I cannot in conscience
allow a face so fair to go out of England, bring
Mr. Evelyn to my presence, equally penitent and
loyal, and you remember the old proverb
' A king's face
Should shew grace.' "
Francesca sank on her knee, and pressed her
lips to the hand which still held her own.
The good-natured monarch raised her, saying,
" I will detain you no longer. However, it is all
right that the gentleman should be the one to
wait." So saying, he turned towards the Castle ;
and Francesca, taking the opposite path, was soon
out of sight.
" I believe, after all," said Charles within him-
self, " love is a more serious matter than we allow
it to be at Whitehall. I did not expect to be so
much interested as I have been. Poor child ! she
is too pretty to go into exile. But I can more
o2
298
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
easily pardon the lover than restore his estate.
His Grace of Buckingham keeps a tight hold on
the manors that come under his grasp. However,
love and poverty are companions of old. Nous
verrons." And trusting, as he usually did, to
chance, the King returned to his arm-chair, and
soon fell asleep.
299
CHAPTER XXXVI.
** Love is not love
Which alters where it alteration finds."
SHAKESPEARE'S Sonnets.
IT was a beautiful but stormy-looking sky that
canopied that lonely pool and the lovers, whose
shadows were scarcely visible on the dark and
undisturbed water below. On the far side was
reflected a single red and meteoric cloud, which
had treasured one last crimson ray from the sun-
set, or perhaps nursed within it the fiery leaven.
It was a strange contrast to the black and heavy
masses which were gathering every moment over-
head. The moon had swollen into a full and
golden round ; but the clouds swept athwart her,
and her fitful gleam came but at intervals. A low
wind seemed gaining strength amid the branches ;
but it was uncertain, and sometimes not even a leaf
was stirred. But there was light enough to shew
the tranquil beauty of Francesca's pale and sweet
300
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
face. She stood at Evelyn's side in that quiet and
intense happiness which is so rare a feeling in the
lot of humanity.
He had told her all, the arduous enterprise
in which he had embarked : he had softened
nothing of the dangers which would surround
their future and forest home. But she felt that,
shared with him, life had no lot that would not
bring its blessing ; and he, as he gazed into those
clear dark eyes which rested on him so confidingly,
that if the most entire, the most devoted love could
repay the woman that trusted to its protection,
that love was his own. Both knew, in their in-
most soul, that each was the other's happiness.
The heart confided in the destiny itself had
created.
" I feel too happy," at length exclaimed Fran-
cesca, in a voice soft as the moonlight silence
which it broke ; " and yet 'tis strange how the
image of death is uppermost in my thought, as if
I desired that the grave should be a security against
further change ! At this moment I could be con-
tent to die.' 7
" Ah, dearest!" replied he, u your spirits are
exhausted, perhaps unconsciously oppressed with
the idea of that future whose pain and whose
peril I have rather heightened than palliated."
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 301
' Not so," returned the young Italian, fixing
her large black eyes upon him with a wild and
melancholy expression. " I think not of the
future my whole existence is, as it were, ab-
sorbed in the present. There is something within
me which says, * Yield to the delicious repose
which now stills every beating pulse : life has
known no such soothing tranquillity before it
will never know it more.' Ah, Evelyn! you can-
not conceive how wretched my life has been
how desolate, and how miserable ! I am not ac-
customed to be glad, and to be loved. I cannot
help the dread, which haunts me like a perpetual
shadow, that fate will exact some terrible penalty
for this moment's feeling."
" Nay, my beloved Francesca, this is the vain-
est folly that ever made an omen of its own
weakness."
" Omen !" repeated she, in a low, broken voice,
that feared the sound of its own words ; " omen!
you have said aright. The shadow flung from
the soul is an omen ; and mine at this very time
holds some mysterious communion with its fate.
There are some whose web in life has a dark yarn
even from the first dark and brief a gloomy
river, with a short and troubled course. And such
is mine. I look back on that which has been,
302
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
and dread that which may be. How much of care,
how much of sorrow has been mine! I am so
little accustomed to happiness, that I tremble in
its presence."
" I would rather, my dearest ! believe that the
future owed the past a debt. Many, many years
are before us years of tender watchfulness, of
mutual hope, of devoted love. I would that the
old tales were true, which held, that life had its
annals in those stars which are now looking down
upon us, and that I had an enchanter's skill, and
could bid them reveal from their shiny depths
the truth and worship of a heart that henceforth
encircles you with itself. The strength of my love
communicates itself. With you and for you every
thing seems possible."
She did not speak, but stood gazing in silence
on the water at their feet, one bright moonbeam
was trembling upon it. Slowly a mass of dense
black clouds came sailing upon the air ; a sud-
den wind shook the branches the dark vapour
parted, but a portion swallowed up the line of
radiance that had vibrated among the waves, and
the whole pool lay in darkness.
" That is my fate ! " whispered Francesca.
" Struggles, shadows, a transient beauty, and then
the night comes 7 the long last night of death!"
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 303
Evelyn saw that her nerves had been too
highly excited; and, to divert her from these
imaginative phantasies, he turned to the more
actual exertions required by their situation, and
resumed the plan of their arrangements, which
their late conversation had interrupted.
" This very night, my beloved Francesca, you
must be mine for ever. I have seen St. Aubyn
to-day, and told him how entirely my every hope
in life rested on the present interview. At ten
o'clock he will wait for us in the church. The
hour will secure us from intrusion, and I can
rely on St. Aubyn. Can you, dare you meet
me?"
" Yes !" said she, in a low but steady voice.
" The Castle once left, the forest path is lonely
but safe. I would meet you here, but I have a
sacred duty to perform, "
" And," interrupted Francesca, " there is so
much risk in coming here ! For my sake, you
must be cautious."
" But, dearest, the forest is dark and solitary.
Are not you afraid ? "
" Afraid of our quiet woods, with those of
America before us ! You cannot think how brave
I mean to be. Besides, I know the path to the
church so well."
304
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" To-night, then, we meet at the altar, and
to-morrow evening we sail. Pause, my own love,
if your heart falter even on the threshold of the
church."
She spoke not ; but the strong affection o those
large and tender eyes needed no aid from words.
The lovers parted, and neither looked back they
must have said farewell again if they had.
305
CHAPTER XXXVII.
" Farewell, farewell ! if ever prayer
For other's weal availed on high,
Mine will not all be lost on air,
But waft thy name beyond the sky."
BYHON.
FRANCESCA made no attempt to leave the solitude
of her own chamber that evening. It were indeed
a vain show to play the hostess, whose reign of
courtesy was drawing so rapidly to a close. She
needed to compose her thoughts to still her ex-
cited nerves ; but she strove, without avail, to
shake off the profound depression which hung over
her. She sat lost in a gloomy reverie, from which
she was roused by observing that the sand had
run from the hour-glass, which she had turned
mechanically when she first took her seat. Hastily
she rose, and drew the table towards her. She
had resolved on writing to her father, but it was
an irksome task; still it needed to be done.
" This," thought she, " is the second letter which
I have addressed to him. With what different
306 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
feelings did I write the first! Alas, the folly of
hope the certain disappointment which awaits
on all earthly expectation ! "
For a few minutes she could not see to write
for her blinding tears ; but the emotion was sub-
dued, and the hurried scroll once began was soon
written ; for when she came to give expression to
her feelings, the sense of injustice steadied her
hand, and dried up her tears. The letter con-
tained the following words :
" Before these lines meet your eye I shall bear
another name, and own another duty than yours.
I do not implore for pardon ; the child who forgets
a parent's love in a new and less sacred affection
may well kneel in the very dust for forgiveness ;
but such forgetfulness is not mine. You do not
you never did love me ; you will not miss me,
and anger in your mind will be utterly unsoftened
by regret. I cannot help this. I complain only
of my adverse fortune. Had I grown up beside
your hearth, a thousand endearing recollections
would have bound me to your care. But I was
forced upon you. I came connected with a thou-
sand unwelcome associations ; and the unfortunate
death of my brother turned every thought of me
into pain. The kind word, and kinder look, have
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 307
been to me unknown. I go ; but I leave no void
behind. I feel that I owe to Robert Evelyn a
dearer debt than to yourself. As he would have
shared his prosperity with me, so will I share his
adversity with him. I believed myself to be a
poor and a friendless orphan when I pledged that
faith which I will not retract as your rich and
titled daughter. There were no truth in the world
if I could depart from mine. The wide ocean will
soon roll between us let it wash away all unkind
thoughts. I shall think of you, pray for you ;
and if in after years one gentle feeling, one mourn-
ful remembrance, should arise, I implore you to
dwell upon them. They will be dear in that after
world where alone we may hope to meet again.
God bless you, my father! you cannot dream
how at this moment my heart yearns towards you.
When the first anger is over, you will believe in
the sorrow which dictates these last words of
farewell. Again, God bless you !
" FRANCESCA."
She folded the scroll, and her tears fell fast
upon it, and her hand trembled so that the name
of Lord Avonleigh was almost illegible. She then
placed it in the casket where it was destined to
remain for the present, and prepared to leave her
308
FRANCESCA CARRARA
chamber. She looked at her mourning dress, and
for an instant felt tempted to change it. " What
folly!" exclaimed she; "what matters the out-
ward sign? The custom is but a chance; no
colour was predestined by nature to be the type of
mourning."
She retrimmed the lamp, which was to be her
companion, and, drawing her cloak round her,
prepared to set forth. The outer door of her
chamber was fastened ; but from her oratory was
a winding staircase which communicated with the
chapel, and she had in her possession the key
of the small side-door which opened into the
garden. Through that she meant to pass. It
was in vain that she called all her resolution to
her aid on entering the chapel. The cold damp
air sent a chill through her whole frame. The
dark vaults below had given to the heavy atmo-
sphere the frozen breath of the sepulchre. The
sculptured figures glared strangely upon her
she almost fancied that the rigid features frowned
on this intrusion into their still domain. Her
lamp could not penetrate the darkness around,
and one by one those pale statues came within its
little circle of light, and each wore a more ghastly
hue, and a more lowering brow, than its prede-
cessor. The wan countenance of Albert, as she
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 309
last saw him the colours of life gone from his
cheek, and the red tide welling slowly from his
forehead rose upon the gloom. She put her
hand before her eyes, but in vain the faces wore
but stronger semblance to humanity. Her imagi-
nation only repeated the phantom shapes, and
with more awful likeness. At last she reached
the door, unlocked it, and sprang into the open
garden.
Terror dwells amid the works of man, not amid
the works of nature. We tremble beside the tomb
we shrink from the icy vapour of the charnel-
house the foot walks unsteadily over the stones
placed above the dead ; but the green grass and
dewy flowers create no fear. Francesca felt mourn-
ful, not timid, as she watched the uncertain
moonlight break from the huge black clouds which
sailed across the heavens. With slow and re-
luctant step she forced herself to return into the
chapel; for in her hurry she had brought her
lamp with her, whose assistance she no longer
needed. She entered, and with a tremulous
hand placed it behind one of the monuments,
so that its light would not be visible from the
windows, while it would be in readiness for her
when she came back. There was a skull carved
on the stone, and on that the flame glared as the
310
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
draught from the open door swept by. The death's
head seemed to start from the marble with an
awful reality ; was its meaning, half mockery
half menace, addressed to her ! She rushed away,
and, pale and gasping, again reached the garden.
She paused for an instant, and leant against the
trunk of an old hawthorn, which, placed in a
southern aspect, had already a few sweet blossoms
on the sunny side ; their fragrance revived her,
and ashamed of the childish fear to which she had
yielded, when time was so precious, she hurried
along the path which led to the forest. Still and
dark were the glades which she had to pass, and
a low moaning wind complained amid the branches :
it was the great voice of Nature breathing in inar-
ticulate murmurs that sorrow which is the uni-
versal soul of all existing things. And yet the air
was soft and warm, and filled with that aromatic
sweetness which belongs to the early spring.
Francesca let her cloak fall from her head,
to enjoy the pleasure of breathing the fragrance
unimpeded ; as the cool breeze came so refresh-
ingly to her fevered temples. How beautiful
she looked as the moonlight fell around her ; its
pale and subduing light suiting so well with those
sculptured features, and glittering in the depths
of those large and radiant eyes ! And yet there
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 31 1
was a deep and sad expression on that brow, too
thoughtful for one so young ; and the smile on
that lip was sweet, but never glad. Every look
bore testimony to the inward and profound me-
lancholy born of that long suffering which dares
not trust itself with joy, and originating, too, in a
temperament sad and sensitive by nature. We
look on such, even in their happiest moments,
and fear for them . Destiny has its favourites ;
but such are not of the number.
Francesca did not meet a creature in the
forest ; the wind was the only sound, and her own
thoughts her sole companions : one was upper-
most in her mind. The path she now followed to
meet the living had hitherto been only traced
when she had sought to commune with the dead
it led direct to Guido's grave.
312
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
" Lean on me, love !
Oh, such a bridal night befits not such a bride ;
but if truth
And tenderness can pay thee back for comfort,
Thou shalt ne'er regret the time."
The Bridal Night.
FRANCESCA'S heart beat quick when she quitted
the forest. She saw the square grey turret of the
church, with the clear full moon just above it.
Another moment and she would be at Evelyn's
side. Still, as the little wicket swung behind
her, she paused, all other thoughts lost in the im-
pression produced by the solemn beauty of the
scene. Large clouds were coming up rapidly upon
the wind, gloomy ministers of fate, charged with
the rain, the storm, and the thunder ; from one of
these the moon had but just emerged, and her
gentle light touched the silvery edges, but entered
not the dense mass which rested on the air, black
and immovable. Light vapours floated round in
a thousand fantastic shapes, soft and snowy, and
yielding easy passage to every luminous ray. The
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 313
long waving grass below was tremulous with the
dew. The ivy, clinging round that side of the old
church, shone with its broad green leaves, which
caught a double radiance from the moon and from
the small diamond panes of the Gothic windows
which the long drooping branches enwreathed.
There was an uncertain and sad loveliness on the
atmosphere, which harmonised with humanity.
There is something in the shadowless sky and
the unbroken moonshine which mocks us with
repose. We have no part in it; our own unrest
has no sympathy with the blue and spiritual
horizon, whose hope is not with this life. The
calm and quiet light is not of our busy and careful
world ; it belongs to sleep, to silence, and to dreams ;
and, alas! we gaze on it with the beating heart
and the fevered pulse, while the thousand vain
delusions of past and future cast their various
shadows before our eyes. Who stands watching
in the sleepless midnight, but one from whose pil-
low repose is banished by one all-present thought ?
Ambition, hate, love, alike have their vigils ; and
what have they in common with the cloudless
sky, where the moon wanders, placid as the spirit
of the good when resigned to die, and confident
and filled with another and holier sphere? But
the. troubled element, the fitful flash, the murky
VOL. III. P
314 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
vapours, the sullen heralds of the tempest, these
have our own likeness cast upon them, these are
nearer to the earth. We read in the aerial struggle
the prophecy of our own fate ; and as the night-
black canopy spreads over the horizon, so darkly
does destiny close around ourselves.
Francesca's eye dwelt involuntarily on the
graves beside. " Sad witnesses to human hap-
piness ! " thought she, and quickened her steps.
She needed the relief of Evelyn's presence to
banish the melancholy forebodings that came
thronging fast to her mind. She started, and
suddenly drew back within the shadow thrown
out by the church wall. She heard a voice,
and in the obscurity saw a group of figures!
What could their errand be at that early hour ?
Surely that sound was familiar to her ear ! Once
before she had heard the ropes creak as they
lowered the coffin into the deep pit ; once before
she had heard the rattle of the gravel falling on
the lid, as if it struck on the very heart ; once
before she had heard those words, sanctifying the
sod over which they were uttered. Whose funeral
rites could they be that needed such mysterious
and secret solemnisation ? The agony of ages passed
within her soul one dreadful thought flashed upon
her. She sprang forward ; her light step caught
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 315
the ear of one of the mourners; he turned round,
and the next moment, agitated and breathless,
she was supported by Robert Evelyn.
The funeral service was concluded, and a few
words, as he led her to the church, sufficed to ex-
plain the scene, which it was not meant she should
have witnessed. Evelyn had felt it incumbent
upon him to see the last duties paid to Major
Johnstone, and only after nightfall could he and
others of the party assemble for such purpose un-
molested. Slight obstacles, one after another, had
delayed the burial, and he had been vfaiting for
some time, at once hoping and dreading Fran-
cesca's arrival. She made no remark ; but as they
passed one mound, where the wild-flowers grew in
more lavish sweetness than on the others, she
said, " That is Guido's grave; nothing seems
present here but death." Evelyn clasped her to
his heart silently, and the action expressed with
mute but tender eloquence, " There, at least, life
and love beat for you, my own Francesca!"
On entering the church, she was met by the
affectionate and cordial greeting of Lucy St. Aubyn.
The unexpected kindness was too much for her ;
it was the last drop that overflowed the fountain
of tears that had been gathering ; and Lucy, who
had been accustomed to see her so quiet, so self-
316
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
possessed, felt her sympathy heightened by sur-
prise, as she bent over and soothed her companion's
burst of passionate weeping. Perhaps it excited
even a tenderer pity ; for those in the habit of giving
way to their own feelings look upon self-possession
rather as the sign of indifference than of control.
Her appearance was soon accounted for. The mo-
ment that she heard from St. Aubyn the occasion
that required his office, she resolved on accom-
panying him. She felt, with the quick sympathy
one woman has to the feelings of another, that
her presence would give Francesca both support
and confidence, for she was sincerely attached to
her. Besides, there is a strong current of romance
in every feminine nature, that delights in the
hazardous and the mysterious, especially in love
affairs. Lucy, too, had a sufficiently tender recol-
lection of Francis Evelyn to take an interest in
his brother, who was also quite handsome enough
to inspire that interest for himself. She was
aware of the risk her husband ran in performing
the ceremony many a clergyman had been sus-
pended for a lighter matter ; but a woman, and a
young woman especially, always takes the gene-
rous side of a question.
There was no time, however, to be lost; and
Evelyn led his bride to the railing before the altar,
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 317
where St. Aubyn stood ready to commence the
ceremony. He whispered to Francesca, as she
knelt, " The ring I have for you was once my
mother's I can give you no dearer pledge."
" Ah !" exclaimed she, in a choked and agi-
tated voice, " it belongs, then, to the dead!"
The service proceeded ; and the voice which
had so little while since spoken the solemn fare-
well to a departed soul, now pronounced its bless-
ing over the hopes and happiness of the living.
As Francesca knelt at the altar, there was a
melancholy earnestness in her large black eyes,
a spiritual expression on her pale features, that
Lucy often recalled. She herself wept, for the
recollection came often and bitter, that this was
the last time they should ever meet; and the
difficulties and dangers her companion was about
to encounter rose with every possible exaggeration
to her rnind. Francesca seemed as if her feelings
admitted not the weakness of tears ; yet it was
sad to leave almost the only friend she had
ever known, and the grave of one so beloved as
her brother. By that grave she had passed this
very night, and, in the agitation and hurry, with-
out one prayer or thought ; yet, even while kneel-
ing at Evelyn's side, it rose upon her mind as if
she had slighted some dear friend.
318
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
Young was the bridegroom, and beautiful the
bride, and never did blessing hallow love more
entire and more devoted ; and yet it was a melan-
choly ceremonial. The cold light of the moon
touched every face with unnatural paleness ; and
the silence was unbroken and portentously pro-
found. No bells, musical in their gladness,
swelled upon the hushed air no kindly gratu-
lations came cheerful from joyful lips ; and when
Evelyn took Francesca's hand in his now his
own his bride before the face of Heaven he
started at the marble coldness of the touch. Surely
the shadow of eternity and the chill of the sur-
rounding graves were upon her at that moment !
She roused herself to say a few words of affec-
tionate farewell to Lucy. " The dream of my
whole life," whispered she, " is now fulfilled. In
poverty, in exile, in death,. I am his for ever."
Lucy embraced her in silence, and her hus-
band's voice faltered, as he bade God bless them.
The youthful couple were left alone in the
churchyard. " I have one last and dearest part-
ing to make," said Francesca, and she knelt down
beside the lowly grave of Guido.
" Weep not, dearest, for the dead," murmured
Evelyn, in the low and gentle tones of love. " He
was very dear; but the circle of a deeper affec-
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 319
tion is around you now, and the care of a still
more tender fondness."
She rose, and put her hands into his. " When
death," said she, in a voice that sounded like
strange sweet music in the silence, " calls upon
me to deliver up my soul, I cannot yield it more
utterly than I now do to you."
A sudden noise of hurrying steps came upon
the air the red glare of torches disturbed the
silvery quiet of the moonbeam dark faces lowered
upon them and two men, by a rapid movement,
secured each an arm of Evelyn, as a harsh voice
exclaimed, " Stand, on your life! you are my
prisoner !"
320
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Have we not loved as none have ever loved ?
Shall we not part as none have ever parted !"
MATURIN.
BETWEEN the future and the soul there is some
mysterious sympathy imperfect and broken in
our present state of existence. With fitful gleams
of light such foreknowledge had rested on Fran-
cesca, when, conscious of coming ill, she knelt,
pale and cold, before the altar. But the actual
found her more resolved than the fantasy. In
the surprise she had sunk again to her knee on
Guide's grave. A woman's first impulse is always
supplication. She felt, however, that it was in
vain ; and the blood of her high race, at the ap-
proach of danger, mantled in every vein to meet
it. A cavalier stepped forward, offering her his
hand to rise, and the moonlight fell full on the
face of the Duke of Buckingham. His habitual
sarcasm found its way. *' Had I been aware,"
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 321
said he, with an obvious mixture of forced gaiety
and real chagrin, " that I was disturbing a lady,
I fear that my gallantry would have interfered
with my loyalty."
Francesca's only answer was the rejection of
his proffered aid ; and she sprang to her feet alone.
Passing the Duke as if she did not even see him,
she approached Evelyn, on whose wrists the
shackles already placed precluded any attempt at
escape, and, putting her hand through his arm,
stood quietly by his side.
" Leave him !" exclaimed Lord Avonleigh,
who now started forward breathless with anger.
" Foolish and obstinate girl ! how dare you hold
communication with an outlaw and a traitor ?"
" I am his wife !" said Francesca while her
calm dark eyes met those of her father unshrink-
ingly, as if to confirm her words " I am his
wife !"
This brief phrase fell like a thunderbolt on all
around. Buckingham looked livid with rage ;
here ended his hopes of uniting the estates of
Avonleigh and Evelyn. A barrier, impassable as
the tornb, was now between him and Francesca :
his rival might perish but there he was, a stum-
bling-block in his path for ever. And, with that
mixture of good and evil blended in all natures,
p2
322 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
but in most striking contrast in his own, he re-
mained for an interval touched only by the devo-
tion and courage which in the beautiful Italian
took a yet higher tone, when shame and death
might have bade a weaker temper shrink from the
avowal. But there she stood, her cheek flushed
even in the moonlight with generous earnestness,
her brow wearing a sad but strong resolve, and
her delicate hand just touching his arm, as if to
mark by how dear a claim she drew to his side.
It was but momentary ; and revenge revenge
born of pique and avarice became the Duke's
paramount sensation.
As to Lord Avonleigh, the common phrase of
" he was in a rage" precisely expresses his emotion.
What he intended to do was not very clear even
to himself, but it was to be something very dread-
ful. He snatched Francesca's arm from her lover's,
and his hasty order of " Away with him!" was
instantly obeyed ; and Evelyn was conveyed at
once to a lonely apartment in the Castle, where
he was left to pass the night in sleep or thought,
as best he might the first glance round the
chamber shewing the utter hopelessness of escape.
" I am sorry, madam," said Lord Avonleigh,
" to propose a step so disagreeable as a return to
the home which you have deemed unworthy the
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 523
honour of your presence ; but I suppose you do not
wish to remain in the churchyard?" Francesca
followed where he led, without uttering a word.
" I have been somewhat remiss in courtesy," said
he, suddenly; " doubtless, Mr. Evelyn has bidden
guests to his bridal festivities? It is hard that
there should be neither bridegroom nor bride to
receive them. Perhaps you would wish to make
his apologies? There is no lack of deer-stalkers
* in these glades to assemble a goodly company in
honour of an outlaw's wedding."
Still she walked by his side, unanswering. Now,
he had expected her to weep, and was quite angry
that she did not. He had prepared divers little
speeches about women and crocodiles' tears, and
it was very provoking to have them wasted. How-
ever, he continued. Talking is to some the relief
that crying is to others ; and taunts and reproaches
brought them midway into the forest. Had the
reproaches been more biting, or the taunts more
keen, Buckingham might have been amused by
them ; but, such as they were, they proved exceed-
ingly tiresome; and weariness took the form of
pity for Francesca. " He will certainly talk the
poor girl to death," thought he; and he looked
sympathisingly on her pale and melancholy coun-
tenance. " Lady Francesca," he said at length,
324
oARRARA.
with that kind yet simple manner he knew well
how to assume, " do let me assist you and from
me you shall at least have the benefit of silence."
How unutterably do the wretched feel the least
expression of kindness ! He saw, as he gave his
arm, that her eyes were filled with tears. She
was thankful both for the support and for the
silence ; but how long, how very long, did it seem
before they reached the Castle !
As they approached, Francesca turned to her
father. The moon was just sinking behind the
little chapel, and the complete darkness of the
casement shewed a dim ray from the lamp within.
" For pity's sake," said she, " spare me to-night
the curious gaze of the household I cannot bear
it. May I return through the chapel, and so re-
gain my chamber ?"
" That will be the least painful to all parties,"
replied Buckingham; and leaving her to pass
in at the door, he remained on the threshold, to
make due explanation to Lord Avonleigh. The
kindness here had its reasons. He knew that
female tears and prayers were what Charles rarely
resisted, and did not desire in this instance that
he should be exposed to them; for, with all the
Duke's pity for Francesca, he never relented
towards Evelyn for one moment.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 325
Lord Avonleigh, at a hint from his companion,
followed his daughter into the chapel, and said
" If, madam, I permit you, however unworthy,
to return to your chamber, there I expect you
to remain. I shall plead indisposition as the cause
of your absence."
Francesca bent 'her head in token of acquies-
cence, and hastened towards the little winding
staircase. As she ascended, she heard her father
lock the door at the foot. " Alas !" thought she,
" how useless the precaution ! All that my heart
holds dear is now in the Castle."
She had scarcely been in the chamber ten
minutes, and had not moved from the seat on
which she had sunk, exhausted and dizzy, when
the door opened, and Lord Avonleigh appeared.
" I just wished to inform you," said he coldly,
" that even your very hope of my pardon depends
on your not interfering with my plans. I have
given orders that no one, excepting your own
attendant, approaches your chamber. I advise
obedience, for your own sake ; it is your good that
I have in view." And without waiting for a reply,
he withdrew, and Francesca heard him lock the
door and take out the key.
" I am indeed a prisoner," exclaimed she, as
she sank back hopeless in her chair, more alive
326
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
to Evelyn's situation than her own. She paced
the room in agony ; for, unacquainted with English
laws, she even exaggerated his danger. Accus-
tomed to the tragic histories of her own country,
the midnight dagger of the assassin was uppermost
in her thoughts. Every noise made her start ; and
the wind, as it howled round the battlements,
seemed in every gust to bring the low groan of
the murdered.
Lord Avonleigh certainly meant to punish his
daughter; but the penalty was far beyond what
he had dreamed. He had no designs on Robert
Evelyn's life. To have him exiled again, and the
marriage with Francesca cancelled and concealed,
was the plan that floated before him. The envy
he had felt towards the house of Evelyn was
appeased, and some remembrance of early friend-
ship and former ties arose within him. But he was
provoked ; the marriage of the banished heir with
his daughter was like a triumph over himself; he
could not endure it.
Lord Avonleigh was an angry rather than a
vindictive man. Vindictiveness requires more
energy of character than he possessed. Indeed,
it may be questioned whether he would of him-
self have taken the violent measures of the pre-
ceding evening. The truth is, Francesca did not
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 327
know how to manage him ; flattery it never en-
tered her head to use. Moreover, he required
to be entreated and persuaded. Had she, from
the very first, urged her attachment to Robert
Evelyn, by this time he would have become accus-
tomed to it nay, perhaps have exerted himself
in its favour for the mere sake of shewing his
power. But, shy and reserved, Francesca shrank
from dwelling on her feelings to one who ap-
peared so careless of them. Father and daughter
had nothing in common ; and the familiarity of
domestic life, instead of drawing them more closely
together, only served to make the distance more
apparent.
But, in the present case, Lord Avonleigh was
a tool in the hands of Buckingham, who, having
come down prepared to woo and win the beautiful
heiress, could not brook disappointment. Indiffer-
ence and Francesca's was obvious in a woman
to himself could be accounted for but by one cause,
a preference to another. To discover that rival,
and revenge himself on him when found, were
things of course. With that attention to trifles
O
which constitutes so large a part of the genius for
intrigue, he had noted slight signs of an altered
bearing in Francesca during the last two days :
there must be some reason either she had seen
328
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
or heard from her lover. He coupled this with
her absence on plea of indisposition, and at once
drew the inference that they had met. Here
chance befriended him. One of his attendants
had found no little favour in the eyes of Alice,
who expressed her suspicions that her mistress
had some secret correspondence, for two reasons ;
first, to satisfy a naturally communicative temper
all common people are communicative ; and
secondly, in hopes of gaining such assistance as
might ultimately gratify her own curiosity, now
most uncomfortably excited.
A thread will guide through a labyrinth, and
Buckingham soon discovered that his rival was
one whose pretensions militated alike against his
interest and his love. The fair manors of Evelyn
were now his own, and so they should remain ;
and if those of Avonleigh could be added to them,
they should not be lost for want of exertion on his
part. The lady herself went for something; he
decidedly preferred her to Lord Fairfax's daughter.
The wealth which might pass as quite a minor
consideration with the one would be needed as the
only excuse for the other. He learnt that Major
Johnstone's funeral was to take place that night,
and that Robert Evelyn would undoubtedly be
there. He accordingly applied to Lord Avonleigh,
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 329
talked about loyalty and public duty, and demand-
ed that, as a magistrate, he should issue a warrant
for Evelyn's apprehension. This was granted with
a readiness and yet an embarrassment that at
once excited the Duke's suspicions that his future
father-in-law knew more of Francesca's attach-
ment than he liked to confess. Both decided on
seeing the warrant executed; and the discovery
to which it led took both by surprise.
Francesca's avowal of her marriage put hope
out of the question, but memory remained ; and
the Duke considered revenge as a duty he owed
to himself. Evelyn had dared to cross his path
let him perish! it was at once a good example
and a satisfaction a good example, which means
warning to others, and a satisfaction to himself.
" I have been," muttered he, " dramatising the
last week: as it cannot be a comedy, and end
with a marriage, let it be a tragedy, and end
with a death. I can be the tyrant Evelyn the
lover ordered to execution. Lord Avonleigh has a
double part to sustain the cruel father, and the
minister of my vengeance ; while Francesca can
go mad in white satin."
It is a curious fact, but a fact it is, that your
witty people are the most hard-hearted in the
330 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
world. The truth is, fancy destroys feeling. The
quick eye to the ridiculous turns every thing to
the absurd side ; and the neat sentence, the lively
allusion, and the odd simile, invest what they
touch with something of their own buoyant nature.
Humour is of the heart, and has its tears ; but
wit is of the head, and has only smiles and the
majority of those are bitter.
Buckingham's plan was settled as Lord Avon-
leigh led his daughter away. There must be no
womanish supplications to the King. Charles was
to leave the Castle the following day ; Francesca
could be confined in her chamber till after his
departure ; and Evelyn, once given over to the
common course of law, would meet with little
mercy now the tide ran so strongly against the
Roundheads and Puritans. Some slight fear he
entertained of the Comtesse de Soissons ; but,
could he contrive to prevent an interview between
her and Francesca till too late and it would be
too late after Charles was once gone the Duke
knew him well enough to fear no written petition.
All was arranged. Under pretence of avoiding
any discussion that might affect the loyalty or com-
promise the dignity of a noble house, he managed
to insinuate all his own suggestions so cunningly,
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 331
that Lord Avonleigh mistook them for his own,
and was quite delighted perhaps a little amazed
at his own ingenuity, and actually ended by
hoping that the Duke would oblige him by fol-
lowing his advice.
332
CHAPTER XL.
" I crave your Grace's pardon."
SHAKESPEARE.
How odd it is to think how differently people are
employed at the same time, and how sad to think
how heavily the burden falls on most ! The con-
trast of the lot of the few with that of the many
rather aggravates the misery: why should they
be thus favoured?
The evening, so anxious, so wretched to the
young heiress of the Castle, had been passed very
cheerfully by her guests. The Queen Mother and
her suite had arrived at that age when cards are
a habit, a business, and a relaxation. The one
or two younger members enlivened themselves
by betting sums they could not afford. Meille-
raye and Hortense were rather unhappy at the
thoughts of returning to France, where their inter-
course would be so much more restricted; and
Madame de Soissons and the King had drawn two
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 333
large chairs near the hearth, the evenings being
sufficiently cold to make a fire pleasant. She
was talking, though in a low voice, with much
warmth, and Charles was listening with an ap-
pearance of pleased attention that is, he was
kept awake very agreeably. When the dialogue
began, both had determined to speak on the same
subject ; and what the one wanted to learn, the
other wished to tell.
Madame de Soissons possessed, in its perfec-
tion, that rare and graceful gift of narrative,
which skims so lightly over the surface, and yet
leaves nothing unmarked the keen vein of
ridicule mingled with the touch of deeper feeling,
and a sort of personal flattery thrown into the
whole something that brings the things de-
scribed home to your individual experience ; and,
finally, which forces one idea prominently forward
i the attention devoted to yourself, in so much
pains being taken for your amusement. She was
relating the history of Francesca, and endeavour-
ing to render it as interesting as possible. She
took it up from its earliest period, painting her
as the lonely child in the deserted palazzo, yet
careful beyond her years for the sake of the strange
old astrologer, whose wild and wayward habits
certainly lost nothing by Marie's description.
334 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" And yet, your Grace, the young lover then
sued in vain. She can now renounce rank and
wealth for his sake ; but she could not leave that
aged and weary man desolate in his last years."
Paris came next, and the romance of Italy was
left behind.
Charles was greatly amused by the deception
of Francis there was no high feeling in himself
that recoiled from such imposition ; still, he felt
rather glad that it was not successful partly,
perhaps, because it would have put an end to the
story.
Marie's own voice faltered a little when Eng-
land became the scene, the remembrance of
Guido rose upon her memory ; it was fortunate,
for Francesca's sake, that it did, for real feeling
always excites sympathy.
" And now think how strong and how endur-
ing has the affection been on each side! We laugh
at these grandes passions, and it is well that we
should they don't come much within our social
experience ; but still it is as well that constancy
a touts epreuve should sometimes exist, if it were
only for the sake of Corneille's tragedies, and Ma-
dame Scuderi's romances."
" And also," interrupted her listener, " that
we may ourselves believe, and be believed. Let
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 335
a miracle have happened only once, and we al-
ways expect it to happen again in our own case.
Fidelity is very good as a precedent, one true
lover helps on the vows of a thousand false ones."
" I see," said Marie, " your Grace has a fel-
low feeling for the many."
" It excites so much envy to be singular, that
I pursue the heaten path from a pure spirit of
Christian charity."
" Do I doubt the excellence of your motives?
I see you are inconstant only from humility."
" I could soon forget to be humble at your
side; Madame de Soissons' fetters are not to be
lightly worn."
" I would thank you," replied she, laughing,
" but I have made a vow not to speak of myself
to-night. I intend to talk of nothing but Fran-
cesca. I am about to leave England ; I must
implore your Grace to allow me to carry away
one pleasant recollection one whose pleasure will
not be painful because past," and here Marie
took un petit ton de sentiment, " you must, as
a parting favour, accord me Robert Evelyn's
pardon?"
" I feel most mercifully disposed towards the
young Republican," replied the King; " your
interest throws its own charm around the object.
336 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
But this present case quite reverses the old saying,
which asserts that the law is one vast cobweb,
which the large flies, alias the rich, break through,
but in which the small flies, alias the poor, are
entangled. This Mr. Evelyn's estates are sadly
in his way. It will tax even your eloquence to
persuade George Villiers to give up the broad
lands which are now his by right of confiscation ;
and life without land is but a half sort of pardon.
What shall we do with Buckingham?"
" I was not aware," replied la Comtesse,
" that the Duke was keeper of your Grace's con-
science."
" Faith," answered Charles, " it might be in
better hands ; but if my conscience is not in his
keeping, Robert Evelyn's estates are."
"Oh, they will bear a considerable fine ; and
there must surely be in this discontented island
other rebels, whose estates may be confiscated for
the Duke of Buckingham's benefit, and who are
not so much in love as to be interesting."
" Well, pardoned he shall be," returned the
Kins;, " even at the penalty of George's not say-
ing a witty thing for the next month at White-
hall, excepting at my expense."
" Your Grace," replied Marie, with a most
flattering smile, " can repay him with interest.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 337
But a thousand thanks for your goodness. How
happy this will make my poor Francesca ! "
They now changed the subject, for Marie's
quick eye had detected Buckingham's entrance ;
and she began to draw a laughing picture of the
melancholy alteration which their departure would
occasion in the Castle.
" These poor, dear, dull rooms how weary
they surely feel of those eternal portraits ! What
a comfort our countenances must have been!
why, the very old chairs must rejoice in a variety!"
At this moment Lord Avonleigh approached,
with a face of solemn distress. " I must entreat
your patience," said he, " if I lack to-night some-
what of the courtesy due to my illustrious guests ;
but I am in great anxiety of mind. The Lady
Francesca has been taken dangerously ill a fever,
as my household physician declares. Do not look so
alarmed, Madame; every possible precaution has
been taken to prevent infection. I have given the
strictest orders to interdict any communication be-
tween her attendants and those devoted to your
service."
" Oh ! " said la Comtesse, " I am not the least
afraid. I shall request permission to see her. I
can assure you she has been my nurse before
now/'
VOL. III. Q
338 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" I cannot take upon myself to allow such a
risk, both for your sake and pardon my parental
anxiety for hers. She is now sleeping ; and the
leech hoped so much from her being kept quiet,
that I dare not suffer her to be disturbed. I shall
treat her as a prisoner. See, I have in my own
possession the key of the gallery which communi-
cates with her apartments."
" There cannot be too much care taken in
such a case," said the Duke of Buckingham,
gravely, and looking at the King ; then, changing
his manner to one of extreme interest, he added,
" are you satisfied with only your ordinary ad-
vice? Should not you send express to London?"
" I think so highly of the care I have often
myself experienced, that I am content to wait till
to-morrow : a quiet night may do much."
Madame de Soissons urged no more her wish
to see Francesca, but joined with the rest in ex-
pressing her regret.
The party soon broke up, for it was very late,
and the intelligence of their hostess's illness did
any thing but exhilarate the circle. We always
feel afraid, when any one is taken suddenly ill,
that our own turn may come next ; for the fol-
lowing day and night, at least, symptoms are
equally fancied and watched.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 339
During the confusion of the card-table settle-
ment, Madame de Soissons approached De Join-
ville, and said, " Was it not your page whom I
saw risking his neck for a crow's nest in the
avenue, the other morning?"
" I daresay it was," replied the Cavalier; " I
have known him risk it for a less matter."
" What could he do in a lady's service?''
" Oh ! Louis is devoue au service des dames.
You might send him to the end of the world with
a smile."
" I do not mean to send him quite so far as
that. But, can he be secret ? "
" He is my page," answered De Joinville, sig-
nificantly.
" My question was rather unnecessary. I will
ask one more to the point. Will you lend him to
me a couple of hours hence, and let his coming to
my chamber be enveloped in mystery as profound
as M. de Liancour's meaning?"
" He shall be equally undiscovered : Louis
would pass a sunbeam and cast no shadow. Two
hours hence he shall be with you."
" And, as a reward, you shall be present at
the denouement of my romance. There was already
a lady, a knight, and a confidante, there lacked
nothing but a page."
340
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" Louis is perfect of his kind ; but I am very
curious."
" You must wait till to-morrow. Good night !
and remember that if discretion be the better pai
of valour, silence is the better part of discretion.'
341
CHAPTER XLI.
" There is a certain goddess, called Confidence, that carries
much weight in honourable preferments. Fortune waits upon
her Cupid is at her beck: she sends them both of errands."
The Merchant's Wedding.
" O, run on my errand, thou bonny foot-page."
Old Ballad.
Louis arrived at the appointed hour, and found
the Comtesse eager for his appearance. He was a
frank, handsome-looking boy, whose arch smile and
quick eye vouched that there were few cases where
he might not safely be left to his own resources.
" Welcome, my young knight - errant !" ex-
claimed Madame de Soissons. " I ain expecting
you to do wonders."
" Nothing could be wonderful when performed
in your service," replied the boy, with that readi-
ness of compliment so characteristic of his time
and court.
The Comtesse smiled, and continued : " First,
I must take you into my full confidence. I am
persuaded that the Lady Francesca's illness is but
a pretext, I want both to ascertain the fact and
342 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
to communicate with her. Now, as her father has
locked the door, this can only be effected through
the window. Do you think you could manage your
entrance to the Lady Francesca's chamber?"
" Ay, were it twice as high. The old ivy is as
good as a ladder. But, unless I am much mis-
taken, it must be quite easy to get from your own
window to hers;" and, so saying, he softly un-
closed the further lattice. " Yes," exclaimed he,
" yonder turret is easily gained, nothing like
your old houses!"
" Mon Dieu!" said Marie, " but the height
is fearful ! Dare I hazard your life ? "
" I would indeed hazard it," replied Louis; " but
here I have not even the satisfaction of running a
little danger for your sake. Now, what am I to
say or do?"
" Give this note to Lady Fruncesca, and bring
me back her answer. But, for the love of Heaven,
be careful ! "
The page laughed recklessly, and sprang upon
the window-sill ; in an instant he disappeared.
Marie stood breathless for a moment, and then
hurried to the open lattice, and watched the boy's
progress. The moon had set ; but, as such nights
are never quite dark, she could see the shadowy
outline of the slender figure as it passed along.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 343
The architectural ornaments the uneven wall
the tough branches were ample footing for the
adventurous boy, who scrambled on with a ra-
pidity which made Marie's head grow dizzy to
look upon. At length he reached the angle of the
wall, and it hid him from her sight. She stood
at the casement still watching, but could see no
more. The night wind was very chill, and she
turned away: " My catching cold will not pre-
vent my young adventurer from breaking his
neck, neither will it in any way benefit Francesca."
With this remark she drew her cloak more closely
around her, and flung herself into an arm-chair by
the fire, to await the result.
In the mean time we will proceed to Fran-
cesca's chamber, where she was seated, sad and
lonely, harassed by every painful image that fancy
could conjure up dreading the morrow, and yet
impatient for its arrival. Weary as she was, she
knew it was in vain to seek her pillow : people
may sleep on the night before execution, but not on
that before sentence is passed. No torture, though
the human race are most ingenious in their devices
of hate, can equal the low fever, the wearing de-
pression of suspense. But a deeper consciousness
than even that of actual evil was on the young
Italian. She was weighed down by a terrible
344
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
foreboding. She sat by the hearth, whose fitful
light at times passed over her features. Her
long black hair, which, loosened, fell even to her
feet, was like a shroud, whence her pale face
glanced forth abandoned by the hope and the
bloom of youth.
A slight noise at one of the windows aroused
her from her gloomy reverie, and, looking up, she
saw that some one was standing before it, The
wretched catch at hope, however improbable.
Was it possible that Evelyn had effected his es-
cape ? But, good God ! the danger of such an
ascent ! She sprang to the casement, unfast-
ened it and sank back, for she gazed upon a
stranger.
The page, who mistook her paleness for fear,
exclaimed eagerly, " Do not be alarmed, lady :
I come from Madame de Soissons, who is most
anxious to know your pleasure. This note will
explain all;" and he drew forth a little scroll,
and gave it to Francesca, whose hand trembled
so that at first she could not break the seal.
Louis observed her agitation, and, with a thought-
ful kindness beyond his years, led her to a seat,
drew the lamp towards her, and then occupied
himself with gathering together the brands of the
decaying fire.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 345
" I am not quite deserted !" murmured Fran-
cesca, as she opened the letter, which contained
these few words :
" Ma belle princesse, are you immured in a
dungeon, or only locked in your own chamber?
I hope the latter, as then my role de confidante has
no difficulties in the way of its performance. I
hear you are ill of a fever, I do not believe it ;
but I do want to know what is the matter. What
can I do for you ? I have spoken to Charles, who
has the most amiable intentions ; the sooner, how-
ever, they are fulfilled the better. Mr. Evelyn is
sure of his pardon of his estate, not quite so
certain ; however, I suppose you can live upon
love. My messenger is trustworthy : you can
either speak or write.
" Yours, in all curiosity and sincerity,
" MARIE."
Francesca hid her face in her hands, in a trans-
port of mute but tearful thankfulness. Evelyn
in safety and at liberty ! the very hope was per-
fect happiness. She caught up a pen, but the
characters she traced were scarcely legible :
" I am, indeed, dearest Marie, a prisoner. Lord
Avonleigh and the Duke surprised Mr. Evelyn
Q2
346 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
and myself together ; and he, too, is confined in
the Castle. This evening we were married, to-
morow were to have sailed for America. I had
relied upon seeing you to-night, when I should
have told you every thing. A pardon is all we
ask let Buckingham keep his ill-gotten estate
life, life is our only prayer. And in that far land,
wherein our future lot will be cast, with what
gratitude and what love shall we remember your
name ! A thousand thanks ! Yours,
" FRANCESCA/'
" Stay yet one moment," said she, as she gave
the note to Louis, and, approaching the dressing-
table, took from a casket a Venetian chain, in
which the purest gold was moulded by the most
delicate workmanship. She flung it herself round
the page's neck, and bade him " wear it for her
sake."
" Not so, lady ; believe me that the pleasure
of serving you is its own best recompense," replied
the youth, colouring.
" Nay," said she, " as a recompense it were
indeed unworthy ; but when I am far away, it
will bring to your memory the gratitude of one to
whom you have given life, and all that makes life
dear."
FRANCE3CA CARRARA. 347
Louis kissed the hand extended to him, and,
hastening to the casement, again commenced his
perilous way. In a few minutes he was in Ma-
dame de Soissons' chamber, who sprang from her
chair to welcome him.
" Never was wall scaled so bravely an omen
of future success, when you shall try such an ad-
venture on your own account. But now tell me
all."
" This letter will do it better than I can, who
only know that the lady Francesca is not ill."
Marie opened it eagerly, " Married! going
to America!" and she sat down fairly breathless
with astonishment. " Oh, they will easily be
reasoned out of this folly. Well," continued she,
addressing the page, " do you give this note early
to-morrow into the hands of the King himself.
May I trust you to gather some violets ? they will
pass for an excuse un petit brin de sentiment very
justifiable on the last day. Make use of my name
to deliver it. His being asleep is of no consequence .
wake him, a lady's message is not to be kept
waiting. And here is un gage d* ami tie for your-
self." So saying, she gave him a velvet purse em-
broidered in gold, and whose contents were more
than adequate to the promise of its glittering
outside.
348
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" Most happy," said Louis, " to be employed
in the service of Madame," and left the room, not
the one least satisfied with the result of the night's
adventure.
" This marriage," thought the Comtesse, " cer-
tainly takes me by surprise ; but I hold that it will
save a great deal of trouble. Lord Avonleigh now
cannot help himself the thing is done. Well, I
do enjoy his Grace's disappointment : the turns of
the game have left us pretty even. I have to thank
him for baffling my plans about Hortense, while
he has to thank me for destroying his own. But
I am very tired, and must bid good night to
myself."
349
CHAPTER XLII.
" Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength."
SHAKESPEARE.
THE breakfast next morning had been ordered
at an early hour, on account of the intended de-
parture of the royal guests ; and, to the surprise
of some, Charles was one of the first to make his
appearance. He had received the note and the
basket of violets. Madame de Soissons was next,
and her flattery and entreaties amply confirmed
his resolution.
" You will permit me, however," said Charles,
to take my breakfast first."
" Certainly," replied Marie ; " it will be most
politic, you will then be in a better humour.
Who is it that says a favour should never be asked
till after dinner? and your substantial English
breakfast will answer nearly as well."
The meal passed in solemn silence. Lord
350
FRANCESCA CARRARA.
Avonleigh felt that he ought not to talk in
character of an afflicted father. Buckingham was
equally obliged to discretion as an anxious lover.
De Joinville gave up speaking when he found
nobody listened their not answering he might
have excused ; and Madame de Soissons was quiet
from pure impatience.
" Really, there is such a dead calm," at last
exclaimed the Duke, " that I begin to be appre-
hensive of a storm : it is quite ominous. Who
among us are likely to quarrel first?' 7 glancing at
the corner of the table where Hortense and Meil-
leraye were seated, as usual, talking in whispers,
and as indifferent as they well could be to the
very existence of the rest of the company.
"Quarrels!" said Charles; "do not use so
disagreeable a word. I am thinking of nothing
but the thanks I owe Lord Avonleigh for his hos-
pitality" Lord Avonleigh bent to the very edge
of the table " and the favours I am about to
ask."
" It is coming," thought Marie.
" Now, your Lordship," continued Charles,
" must not send me away a disappointed guest ;
pray allow Lady Francesca to be summoned hither.
I am aware," added he, interrupting her father's
attempt to speak, that " the lady's only illness is
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 351
your displeasure. Sufficient cause, I am sure ; but
one which I hope to remove."
Lord Avonleigh looked aghast, and, never very
ready with his own resources, endeavoured to
catch Buckingham's eye, but in vain. The Duke's
attention was fixed on Madame de Soissons ; their
eyes met, and both laughed. His volatile temper
was already caught with the absurdity of having
been so outwitted, and Lord Avonleigh's con-
sternation was ample recompense. He resolved
he should get through it as he could,
" May we take your silence for consent?"
asked Charles, after a pause.
" Your Grace has been strangely deceived
the Lady Francesca is too ill to leave her room."
Lord Avonleigh had not tact enough to perceive
that the truth would now have been his best
policy.
" Nay," replied Charles, gravely, " this is
carrying your anger too far. Allow me to me-
diate between you. I must entreat, nay, I com-
mand, the Lady Francesca's presence."
" Your Grace's commands are absolute," said
Lord Avonleigh, as he perceived that Buckingham
would not come to his assistance, and found, as
he could not trust to the Duke, he must trust to
chance. l( Take the key of the south gallery,"
352 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
he said to an attendant, " and tell the Lady Fran-
cesca that it is the King's wish to see her, and
that she has my permission to leave her apart-
ment."
Lord Avonleigh had decided on taking refuge
in wounded dignity, when he was again addressed
by the King.
" The Castle holds another prisoner, to whom
I intend extending the best prerogative of my
crown mercy. Will you order Robert Evelyn
to be brought before me ? "
Lord Avonleigh bowed in sullen silence, and,
turning to his page, bade him desire that the pri-
soner might forthwith be conducted to the royal
presence.
" Avonleigh is more puzzled than I am,"
whispered Buckingham, who had drawn to Ma-
dame de Soissons' side. " I can assure you that
my anger is merged in admiration."
" Suppose," said Marie, " that we make peace .^
and, as a reward, I will tell you the whole his-
tory."
The Duke answered, " Agreed."
When the prisoner was brought into the room,
Charles looked for a moment admiringly on the
graceful figure and noble bearing of the youth
who entered, and then said, " Give him his sword
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 353
Mr. Evelyn, you are free : I pardon you for
the sake of others, and will consider their inter-
cession sufficient pledge for your loyalty."
Evelyn, bewildered by the sudden change,
sunk on his knee, and silently kissed the King's
extended hand ; he strove to speak his thanks,
the words died upon his lips ; but attention was
drawn from his emotion by the entrance of Fran-
cesca. She was dressed in her black novice's
robe, whose large loose folds suited so well the
simple dignity of her air. Her hair was just
parted on her forehead, and gathered up in a
single knot behind. She was pale as marble;
but her large eyes had an unnatural and feverish
brightness ; and when she came into the room,
and perceived Evelyn, a crimson flush for a mo-
ment passed over her countenance, but left it even
paler than before. She hesitated, and he was that
instant at her side. He took her hand, and led
her, scarce conscious, across the room. ." Kneel,
my bride, my beloved ! " said he, in a whisper,
" and thank our Sovereign for a life which is
indeed precious for your sake."
Francesca sank at the King's feet ; but before
she could speak, he raised her from the ground,
and said, " Why, this is strange bridal attire, my
beautiful nun !"
354 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
" My sad and solemn garb is a custom o
country," replied Francesca. " What can be so
fitting as a religious dress for a time of tribulation,
sorrow, and farewell?"
" No talk of farewell now," exclaimed Madame
de Soissons, cordially embracing her friend. " I
am sure your father will consent."
" I have really been so little consulted," an-
swered Lord Avonleigh, " that any opinion of
mine it is as superfluous to ask as to offer."
" Nay," said the King, " we have done with
authority now ; we shall only beg that you will
add your pardon to our own."
" My father!" exclaimed Francesca, " I im-
plore you, part from me not with an unkindly
feeling. I entreat you to recollect that Robert
Evelyn loved me as the lonely and neglected
orphan ; that our affection has been tried in every
way ; and that, for my sake, he has risked liberty
and life. My father, had he perished on the
scaffold, the same grave would have held us
both !"
" Come, Lord Avonleigh," said Charles, " the
house of Evelyn is as noble as your own, and a
portion of the estate shall be restored."
" Thank you/' said Buckingham, in a low
tone, to Madame de Soissons.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 355
" Pray," answered she, " do not let a little
miserable earth interfere with our newly formed
friendship."
" I thank your Grace/' said Evelyn ; " but
I ask no boon beyond the life, whose gratitude can
end but with itself. Let my father's house pass
from me, even as I am about to pass away from
my father's land. When yonder dearest maiden
stood with me before the altar, she knew that she
wedded one whose future lot was cast in another
place r- that I was an exile and a wanderer. The
plan which I formed thoughtfully, I adhere to
steadily. I am still bound to my brave com-
panions; far across the ocean we will seek an
altar and a home. For the faith which we pro-
fess we are ready to encounter every danger. We
go in the name of God, and we believe he will
guide us in safety through the wilderness. To-
night we sail ! "
"He is mad!" exclaimed Lord Avonleigh.
" At all events, you, Francesca, will not go with
him?"
She answered by placing her hand in Evelyn's,
and standing in silence at his side.
356
CHAPTER XLIII.
" C'est qu'on n'a pas pour tout partage
De soupirer et de rever ;
Que sur 1'ocean sans rivage
II faut poursuivre son voyage,
Dut-on ne jamais arriver."
ST. BEUVE.
IT was but a few hours after the preceding scene
that a party were seen issuing from the gates of
Avonleigh Castle. Two horses stood saddled,
ready; but before Evelyn assisted his bride to
mount, she turned to embrace Madame de Sois-
sons, who had accompanied her to the portal.
" God bless you ! " exclaimed she, in a faltering
voice. "Think of me sometimes, and Heaven
above knows that my heart will beat with the
remembrance of your kindness till it lies cold in
death." Francesca then sprung on her horse,
and in a few minutes they had crossed the path,
and were hidden by the forest ; once again they
appeared on a winding turn of the road ; again
the boughs closed round them, and shut them out
from those who watched them for ever.
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 357
It was long before Madame de Soissons ceased
to gaze upon the road. At length, dashing the
last tears from her cheek, she turned with a forced
smile to De Joinville, who was standing beside,
and said, " Well, there are some things in the
world I do not understand ; and I neither compre-
hend Evelyn's going to America, nor Francesca's
accompanying him;" and with this speech we
take our farewell of the Comtesse, who went back
to Paris, and passed an active life of court in-
trigue, which was generally successful : the chief
incident of her after-life was a brief exile for an
impertinent speech to Madame de Valliere.
The Chevalier de Joinville lived to an ad-
vanced age, and was considered a very amusing
old gentleman ; he was sometimes advised to write
his memoirs, but, as he justly observed, he had a
character to lose.
Lord AvonleLh married again, and, with that
singular good -fortune which never deserted him,
except in the instance of his son, who was perhaps
the one great sacrifice to Fate, was very fortunate
in his choice, for his lady was pretty, obedient,
and an excellent nurse. He took to good eating
and the gout ; and even Albert was as much for-
gotten as Francesca and her mother.
Charles Aubyn and Lucy vegetated in quiet
358 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
content. The young and enthusiastic preacher
taming down into an accommodating conformist,
one who felt that the interests of his own living
and of the church in general were indissolubly
connected. He dined constantly at the Castle,
and was always considered a very worthy and
respectable individual. Lucy herself made a valu-
able discovery, namely, that she had delicate
health, only those who have this perpetual in-
terest in themselves can understand its enjoyment,
and what with complaints, symptoms, remedies,
and ground-ivy tea, it was quite wonderful how
time passed unobserved away. It is on such as
these that life lavishes its favours ; these are they
of the light heart, and yet lighter mind, for whose
sake the earth, to whose base clay they are so near
allied, puts forth her best ; these are they who
have the corn and wine of existence. What know
they of the sensitive temper which makes its own
misery? of the deep feeling that cannot change?
of the hope that looks too high, whose bright
wings melt in the glorious flight, and is dashed
to pieces in its rude collision with the common
and the actual ? What know they of that fever-
ish impatience of the littleness of society, which
takes refuge amid the dreams of a haunted soli-
tude, from which it only ventures forth to have
FRANCESCA OARRARA. 359
those dreams destroyed? What know they of
these ? Nothing, nothing ; and in their ignorance
are they happy !
A graver page than this, that of history, re-
cords the further career which awaited some who
have been recalled in this brief chronicle of their
earlier time. Power and indulgence harden, cor-
rupt, and assimilate their possessors ; and as they
drew near and more near to the close, the cha-
racters of Louis and of Charles took- stronger
shades of resemblance. The indolent good-nature
of the one lapsed into the most reckless selfish-
ness ; and throughout our English annals there is
no portion more disgraceful than the latter years
of Charles's reign ; and assuredly the same censure
may be passed on those of Louis, periods of per-
sonal and of national degradation.
But we have now done with all those who
have taken part in these pages, save of the two
whose fortunes and characters they have endea-
voured principally to illustrate; and they have
yet a long wild voyage to perform.
A feeling of gladness and freedom long un-
known animated them as they rode through the
forest; the future was before them that future
of which they now spake together. Together!
the perfect happiness of that one word ! An hour's
360 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
quick riding for time was precious brought
them to Southampton. A boat was in waiting at
the quay, and in a few minutes they were on board
the vessel destined to convey them to America.
The breeze was favourable, and the white sails
were soon spread a mighty sea-bird ruffling its
snowy plumage in the sunset. The town of South-
ampton, with its old castle, and older trees, shone
red in the gleam of the parting day ; and the west
was heaped with huge crimson masses, contending
with a vast black shadow that rested on their
verge. Beyond lay the fair green island, so tran-
quil in the cool calm atmosphere, only flickered
by a few of the lightest clouds. " England, dear
England, farewell for ever!" exclaimed Evelyn,
as he leant on the side of the ship, and gazed on
the lovely undulations of that native land whither
he was to return no more.
361
CHAPTER XLIV.
" Of winds and waves the strangely mingled sounds
Ride heavily, the night wind's hollow sweep,
Mocking the sounds of human lamentation."
Bertram.
" The be all, and the end all here."
SHAKESPEARE.
Two hours had passed, the fierce crimson of the
west had burnt itself away, and the huge black
clouds had gathered in darker array, broken by
gleams of meteoric light. The moon had risen,
but with a dim haze around her troubled circle,
and her face was only seen at intervals, so rapidly
did the hurrying vapours sweep by. The fresh
sea-breeze had sank to rest, yet the billows heaved ;
and every now and then a warm gust, unnatural
and brief, stirred the sails, and at each return with
increased strength. Most of its inmates were
sleeping in that ship, worn out with the toils of the
day, and still more with the sorrow of parting,
dreaming of that roof which would never shelter
their hours of rest again. But some of the seamen
watched the lowering heaven with unquiet eyes ;
and their captain knew that for him there was no
VOL. III. R
362 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
sleep that night. There was silence on the deck,
and gravity on the faces usually careless as that
of a child ; but each one was now mutely preparing
for the coming hour of peril.
Two only in that vessel had neither sought the
rest of the passengers nor shared the anxiety of
the seamen. Evelyn had never moved from the
ship's side, but leant there, one arm encircling
Francesca, while he drew her attention to many a
familiar object, and many a recollection of his
youth. His heart had gone back to the past, but
it had drawn hers along with it. At length, not
even his watchful eye could discern the shadowy
line that rested on the far horizon, a cloud passed
over the moon, he had looked his last on England.
Not till that moment did he know what it was to
part from a country that had been, that was, so
precious in his sight. He stood silent, and hid
his face; while Francesca marked her sympathy
by silence as deep as his own. Suddenly he turned
towards her, and exclaimed,
" Francesca, do you ever think of Italy 1"
" Yes," said she tenderly, " as the place where
we first met."
" Pardon me, dearest," whispered he, drawing
her closer to his heart, " that one thought can
wander from my present and perfect happiness;
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 363
but I leave the best hopes of a life behind me in
quitting England. Henceforth my father's house
will be desolate. Two nights ago I visited those
noble halls for the last time. I heard that the
court minion into whose hands they have passed
had given orders that they should be pulled down.
Heaven knows where those stately portraits will
be displayed on which I have so often gazed, some
legend of knightly faith attached to each ! to
what base uses will those time-honoured arches,
those windows of coloured light, those panels of
carved oak, be applied ! . Francesca, this must seem
strange weakness to you ; but there is not a stone
in these old walls, about to be levelled with the
ground, which has not some association of gone-by
hope and lingering memory that wind round the
heart, despite of every effort to forget them."
" And why forget?" replied Francesca. " We
shall love to talk of England in the far country to
which we are hastening."
The conversation was here interrupted by a
burst of thunder above their heads, and a huge
wave dashing over the deck, while the vessel
reeled beneath the shock.
" Better take the lady below," said a sailor.
Francesca cast an imploring look upon Evelyn.
Let me stay by your side I am not afraid ! "
364 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
Evelyn hesitated, when the captain
urged her descent, " You can only be in the
way, lady."
She contested the point no longer, but allowed
herself to be conducted to the cabin. It was a
scene of strange confusion. The shock which sent
the ship rolling amid the waters had roused the
passengers from their short rest, and they crowded
together with pale faces of anxiety and terror.
The storm, which had long been gathering, swept
at last over sea and sky. More than night rested
on the waters, darkness made yet more deep by
the fiery blaze which ever and anon kindled the
horizon. And when that died away, the black
cloud and blacker wave were mocked by a phos-
phoric sparkle, like the meteors which in some
damp churchyard gleam from the grave. The
seamen, with every eye fixed, and every hand
strained, were the fortunate ; but wo for the
wretches cooped in the cabin below, surrounded
by an unaccustomed danger, and fear is most
terrible when strange. They were home-bred peo-
ple, who had never dreamt but of dying quietly in
their beds, who had lived amid green fields, and
in small and pleasant villages, and who, after
they had thought of death, had softened the image
of old age by prayer breathed from lips beloved
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 365
in the last extremity^ and tears that soothed the
pillow on which they fell. But now death came
sudden, dreadful, and strange. The wind howled
around their prison-house, the waves clamoured
aloud for their prey, and every peal of thunder
seemed the signal of destruction. Some tried to
pray, but their thoughts were confused, the old
familiar words had passed from their mind ; some
wept hysterical and unnatural tears, that fell for
themselves ; and some sat on the floor stupid
with terror. One, an old man, so old that his
shadow rested even on his grave, raved aloud,
and reproached the Lord, who had thus deserted
his people in their time of need. Near him was
another, who held an almost empty flask, and
was humming a joyous song, which, from his now
serious and staid character, must have been for-
gotten for many a year ; and between the two
lay a child fast asleep, the little rosy cheek pil-
lowed upon the arm, half lost in the curls of fair
hair. The shocks, which laid the ship almost
under the sea, grew less frequent ; the thunder,
heard at long intervals, now threatened in the at-
mosphere afar off; when Francesca rose from her
knee, and resolved to seek the deck again. The
oppression of the cabin was stifling, and Evelyn
had left her ; she could not bear his absence, and
366 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
she followed him. The pale, chill glimmering of
earliest morning was faint in the east, from which
the clouds were slowly breaking ; there was just
light enough to enable her to find her way. At
once her eye fell upon Evelyn, speaking to the
captain, who stood with folded arms, and a reso-
lute, but desperate air, while he answered with ob-
vious reluctance ; she caught the last few words,
"I know the channel well; and where yonder
gleam of red light rests upon the water are rocks,
and on those rocks we strike before another quar-
ter of an hour is over!" and the seaman walked
away, as if unwilling to be further questioned.
Evelyn felt a light touch upon his arm it was
Francesca. Again, in silence, they approached
the side of the ship, and Evelyn averted his face ;
he could not bear to look on the beautiful and the
devoted the bride whom he had won but to
lose. He shuddered as he pored on the dark and
heaving waves, so soon to close over them.
" God of Heaven ! " exclaimed he aloud ; " and
it is for my sake that she is here ! "
"Yes, Evelyn!" said Francesca, in a voice
of touching sweetness, but calm not one accent
changed. " Yes : and here I am happy. What-
ever be the world of which yonder dark sea is the
portal, we shall seek it together. It has been
FRANCESCA CARRARA. 367
upon me from my earliest childhood a longing
for another sphere. I knew that this earth was
not my home that here hopes and affections
were to he hlighted and to die. Heaven has re-
stored us to each other ; it wills that our future he
eternal. A deep and a sweet repose is in my heart
at this moment, and I wait, as at an altar, that
fate which is not of this life."
He gazed on her large bright eyes, raised for
one moment to the sky, whose light was within
them. They were uplifted but for that moment, and
then turned upon him ; from his face they moved
no more. Suddenly they were flung with violence
against the side where they leant. The vessel
shivered like a living thing, and planks and joints
flew asunder with a sound which echoed far across
the waters. One wild shriek, the cry of many voices,
arose to heaven ; but in vain ! Again the panting
waves lifted the shattered vessel on high ; again it
was dashed on the hidden rock ; this time it rose
no more, and the last of life's agony was lost be-
neath the unfathomable sea !
Let the waves sweep over them ! Better the
dark, silent, and fated waves of ocean, than the
troubled waves of life. There are some whose
sojourn on this earth is brief as it is bitter. For
368 FRANCESCA CARRARA.
such the world keeps the wasted affection, the hope
destroyed, the energy that preys upon itself, the
kindly feeling unrequited, and the love that asks
for happiness and finds despair or death. The
lots in this existence are unequal. Some pass
along a path predestined to weariness and tears.
Such a destiny have I here recorded ; and ere its
truth be denied, I pray those who may turn these
pages to think of those they have known, and their
memory will witness for me. The kindest, the
loveliest, the best, whom they can remember has
not life for them poured forth from its darkest
cup? have not they known the broken heart and
the early grave ? Such natures belong not to our
soil they are of another sphere ; and it is mercy
when Heaven recalls its own.
THE END.
LONDON:
J. MOVES, CASTI.E STREET, LEICESTER SQUARE.
Land on, Letitia Elizabeth
France sea Carrara
PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE
CARDS OR SLIPS FROM THIS POCKET
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO LIBRARY
