The Fortunes of Nigel

Chapter 20

By the time that Margaret returned with Monna Paula, the Lady Hermione

was rising from the table at which she had been engaged in writing

something on a small slip of paper, which she gave to her attendant.

"Monna Paula," she said, "carry this paper to Roberts the cash-keeper;

let them give you the money mentioned in the note, and bring it hither

presently."

Monna Paula left the room, and her mistress proceeded.

"I do not know," she said, "Margaret, if I have done, and am doing,

well in this affair. My life has been one of strange seclusion, and I

am totally unacquainted with the practical ways of this world--an

ignorance which I know cannot be remedied by mere reading.--I fear I

am doing wrong to you, and perhaps to the laws of the country which

affords me refuge, by thus indulging you; and yet there is something

in my heart which cannot resist your entreaties."

"O, listen to it--listen to it, dear, generous lady!" said Margaret,

throwing herself on her knees and grasping those of her benefactress

and looking in that attitude like a beautiful mortal in the act of

supplicating her tutelary angel; "the laws of men are but the

injunctions of mortality, but what the heart prompts is the echo of

the voice from heaven within us."

"Rise, rise, maiden," said Hermione; "you affect me more than I

thought I could have been moved by aught that should approach me. Rise

and tell me whence it comes, that, in so short a time, your thoughts,

your looks, your speech, and even your slightest actions, are changed

from those of a capricious and fanciful girl, to all this energy and

impassioned eloquence of word and action?"

"I am sure I know not, dearest lady," said Margaret, looking down;

"but I suppose that, when I was a trifler, I was only thinking of

trifles. What I now reflect is deep and serious, and I am thankful if

my speech and manner bear reasonable proportion to my thoughts."

"It must be so," said the lady; "yet the change seems a rapid and

strange one. It seems to be as if a childish girl had at once shot up

into deep-thinking and impassioned woman, ready to make exertions

alike, and sacrifices, with all that vain devotion to a favourite

object of affection, which is often so basely rewarded."

The Lady Hermione sighed bitterly, and Monna Paula entered ere the

conversation proceeded farther. She spoke to her mistress in the

foreign language in which they frequently conversed, but which was

unknown to Margaret.

"We must have patience for a time," said the lady to her visitor; "the

cash-keeper is abroad on some business, but he is expected home in the

course of half an hour."

Margaret wrung her hands in vexation and impatience.

"Minutes are precious," continued the lady; "that I am well aware of;

and we will at least suffer none of them to escape us. Monna Paula

shall remain below and transact our business, the very instant that

Roberts returns home."

She spoke to her attendant accordingly, who again left the room.

"You are very kind, madam--very good," said the poor little Margaret,

while the anxious trembling of her lip and of her hand showed all that

sickening agitation of the heart which arises from hope deferred.

"Be patient, Margaret, and collect yourself," said the lady; "you may,

you must, have much to do to carry through this your bold purpose--

reserve your spirits, which you may need so much--be patient--it is

the only remedy against the evils of life."

"Yes, madam," said Margaret, wiping her eyes, and endeavouring in vain

to suppress the natural impatience of her temper,--"I have heard so--

very often indeed; and I dare say I have myself, heaven forgive me,

said so to people in perplexity and affliction; but it was before I

had suffered perplexity and vexation myself, and I am sure I will

never preach patience to any human being again, now that I know how

much the medicine goes against the stomach."

"You will think better of it, maiden," said the Lady Hermione; "I

also, when I first felt distress, thought they did me wrong who spoke

to me of patience; but my sorrows have been repeated and continued

till I have been taught to cling to it as the best, and--religious

duties excepted, of which, indeed, patience forms a part--the only

alleviation which life can afford them."

Margaret, who neither wanted sense nor feeling, wiped her tears

hastily, and asked her patroness's forgiveness for her petulance.

"I might have thought"--she said, "I ought to have reflected, that

even from the manner of your life, madam, it is plain you must have

suffered sorrow; and yet, God knows, the patience which I have ever

seen you display, well entitles you to recommend your own example to

others."

The lady was silent for a moment, and then replied--

"Margaret, I am about to repose a high confidence in you. You are no

longer a child, but a thinking and a feeling woman. You have told me

as much of your secret as you dared--I will let you know as much of

mine as I may venture to tell. You will ask me, perhaps, why, at a

moment when your own mind is agitated, I should force upon you the

consideration of my sorrows? and I answer, that I cannot withstand the

impulse which now induces me to do so. Perhaps from having witnessed,

for the first time these three years, the natural effects of human

passion, my own sorrows have been awakened, and are for the moment too

big for my own bosom--perhaps I may hope that you, who seem driving

full sail on the very rock on which I was wrecked for ever, will take

warning by the tale I have to tell. Enough, if you are willing to

listen, I am willing to tell you who the melancholy inhabitant of the

Foljambe apartments really is, and why she resides here. It will

serve, at least, to while away the time until Monna Paula shall bring

us the reply from Roberts."

At any other moment of her life, Margaret Ramsay would have heard with

undivided interest a communication so flattering in itself, and

referring to a subject upon which the general curiosity had been so

strongly excited. And even at this agitating moment, although she

ceased not to listen with an anxious ear and throbbing heart for the

sound of Monna Paula's returning footsteps, she nevertheless, as

gratitude and policy, as well as a portion of curiosity dictated,

composed herself, in appearance at least, to the strictest attention

to the Lady Hermione, and thanked her with humility for the high

confidence she was pleased to repose in her. The Lady Hermione, with

the same calmness which always attended her speech and actions, thus

recounted her story to her young friend:

"My father," she said, "was a merchant, but he was of a city whose

merchants are princes. I am the daughter of a noble house in Genoa,

whose name stood as high in honour and in antiquity, as any inscribed

in the Golden Register of that famous aristocracy.

"My mother was a noble Scottish woman. She was descended--do not

start--and not remotely descended, of the house of Glenvarloch--no

wonder that I was easily led to take concern in the misfortunes of

this young lord. He is my near relation, and my mother, who was more

than sufficiently proud of her descent, early taught me to take an

interest in the name. My maternal grandfather, a cadet of that house

of Glenvarloch, had followed the fortunes of an unhappy fugitive,

Francis Earl of Bothwell, who, after showing his miseries in many a

foreign court, at length settled in Spain upon a miserable pension,

which he earned by conforming to the Catholic faith. Ralph Olifaunt,

my grandfather, separated from him in disgust, and settled at

Barcelona, where, by the friendship of the governor, his heresy, as it

was termed, was connived at. My father, in the course of his commerce,

resided more at Barcelona than in his native country, though at times

he visited Genoa.

"It was at Barcelona that he became acquainted with my mother, loved

her, and married her; they differed in faith, but they agreed in

affection. I was their only child. In public I conformed to the

docterins and ceremonial of the Church of Rome; but my mother, by whom

these were regarded with horror, privately trained me up in those of

the reformed religion; and my father, either indifferent in the

matter, or unwilling to distress the woman whom he loved, overlooked

or connived at my secretly joining in her devotions.

"But when, unhappily, my father was attacked, while yet in the prime

of life, by a slow wasting disease, which he felt to be incurable, he

foresaw the hazard to which his widow and orphan might be exposed,

after he was no more, in a country so bigoted to Catholicism as Spain.

He made it his business, during the two last years of his life, to

realize and remit to England a large part of his fortune, which, by

the faith and honour of his correspondent, the excellent man under

whose roof I now reside, was employed to great advantage. Had my

father lived to complete his purpose, by withdrawing his whole fortune

from commerce, he himself would have accompanied us to England, and

would have beheld us settled in peace and honour before his death. But

heaven had ordained it otherwise. He died, leaving several sums

engaged in the hands of his Spanish debtors; and, in particular, he

had made a large and extensive consignment to a certain wealthy

society of merchants at Madrid, who showed no willingness after his

death to account for the proceeds. Would to God we had left these

covetous and wicked men in possession of their booty, for such they

seemed to hold the property of their deceased correspondent and

friend! We had enough for comfort, and even splendour, already secured

in England; but friends exclaimed upon the folly of permitting these

unprincipled men to plunder us of our rightful property. The sum

itself was large, and the claim having been made, my mother thought

that my father's memory was interested in its being enforced,

especially as the defences set up for the mercantile society went, in

some degree, to impeach the fairness of his transactions.

"We went therefore to Madrid. I was then, my Margaret, about your age,

young and thoughtless, as you have hitherto been--We went, I say, to

Madrid, to solicit the protection of the Court and of the king,

without which we were told it would be in vain to expect justice

against an opulent and powerful association.

"Our residence at the Spanish metropolis drew on from weeks to months.

For my part, my natural sorrow for a kind, though not a fond father,

having abated, I cared not if the lawsuit had detained us at Madrid

for ever. My mother permitted herself and me rather more liberty than

we had been accustomed to. She found relations among the Scottish and

Irish officers, many of whom held a high rank in the Spanish armies;

their wives and daughters became our friends and companions, and I had

perpetual occasion to exercise my mother's native language, which I

had learned from my infancy. By degrees, as my mother's spirits were

low, and her health indifferent, she was induced, by her partial

fondness for me, to suffer me to mingle occasionally in society which

she herself did not frequent, under the guardianship of such ladies as

she imagined she could trust, and particularly under the care of the

lady of a general officer, whose weakness or falsehood was the

original cause of my misfortunes. I was as gay, Margaret, and

thoughtless--I again repeat it--as you were but lately, and my

attention, like yours, became suddenly riveted to one object, and to

one set of feelings.

"The person by whom they were excited was young, noble, handsome,

accomplished, a soldier, and a Briton. So far our cases are nearly

parallel; but, may heaven forbid that the parallel should become

complete! This man, so noble, so fairly formed, so gifted, and so

brave--this villain, for that, Margaret, was his fittest name, spoke

of love to me, and I listened---Could I suspect his sincerity? If he

was wealthy, noble, and long-descended, I also was a noble and an

opulent heiress. It is true, that he neither knew the extent of my

father's wealth, nor did I communicate to him (I do not even remember

if I myself knew it at the time) the important circumstance, that the

greater part of that wealth was beyond the grasp of arbitrary power,

and not subject to the precarious award of arbitrary judges. My lover

might think, perhaps, as my mother was desirous the world at large

should believe, that almost our whole fortune depended on the

precarious suit which we had come to Madrid to prosecute--a belief

which she had countenanced out of policy, being well aware that a

knowledge of my father's having remitted such a large part of his

fortune to England, would in no shape aid the recovery of further sums

in the Spanish courts. Yet, with no more extensive views of my fortune

than were possessed by the public, I believe that he, of whom I am

speaking, was at first sincere in his pretensions. He had himself

interest sufficient to have obtained a decision in our favour in the

courts, and my fortune, reckoning only what was in Spain, would then

have been no inconsiderable sum. To be brief, whatever might be his

motives or temptation for so far committing himself, he applied to my

mother for my hand, with my consent and approval. My mother's judgment

had become weaker, but her passions had become more irritable, during

her increasing illness.

"You have heard of the bitterness of the ancient Scottish feuds, of

which it may be said, in the language of Scripture, that the fathers

eat sour grapes, and the teeth of the children are set on edge.

Unhappily--I should say _happily_, considering what this man has now

shown himself to be--some such strain of bitterness had divided his

house from my mother's, and she had succeeded to the inheritance of

hatred. When he asked her for my hand, she was no longer able to

command her passions--she raked up every injury which the rival

families had inflicted upon each other during a bloody feud of two

centuries--heaped him with epithets of scorn, and rejected his

proposal of alliance, as if it had come from the basest of mankind.

"My lover retired in passion; and I remained to weep and murmur

against fortune, and--I will confess my fault--against my affectionate

parent. I had been educated with different feelings, and the

traditions of the feuds and quarrels of my mother's family in

Scotland, which we're to her monuments and chronicles, seemed to me as

insignificant and unmeaning as the actions and fantasies of Don

Quixote; and I blamed my mother bitterly for sacrificing my happiness

to an empty dream of family dignity.

"While I was in this humour, my lover sought a renewal of our

intercourse. We met repeatedly in the house of the lady whom I have

mentioned, and who, in levity, or in the spirit of intrigue,

countenanced our secret correspondence. At length we were secretly

married--so far did my blinded passion hurry me. My lover had secured

the assistance of a clergyman of the English church. Monna Paula, who

had been my attendant from infancy, was one witness of our union. Let

me do the faithful creature justice--She conjured me to suspend my

purpose till my mother's death should permit us to celebrate our

marriage openly; but the entreaties of my lover, and my own wayward

passion, prevailed over her remonstrances. The lady I have spoken of

was another witness, but whether she was in full possession of my

bridegroom's secret, I had never the means to learn. But the shelter

of her name and roof afforded us the means of frequently meeting, and

the love of my husband seemed as sincere and as unbounded as my own.

"He was eager, he said, to gratify his pride, by introducing me to one

or two of his noble English friends. This could not be done at Lady D-

--'s; but by his command, which I was now entitled to consider as my

law, I contrived twice to visit him at his own hotel, accompanied only

by Monna Paula. There was a very small party, of two ladies and two

gentlemen. There was music, mirth, and dancing. I had heard of the

frankness of the English nation, but I could not help thinking it

bordered on license during these entertainments, and in the course of

the collation which followed; but I imputed my scruples to my

inexperience, and would not doubt the propriety of what was approved

by my husband.

"I was soon summoned to other scenes: My poor mother's disease drew to

a conclusion--Happy I am that it took place before she discovered what

would have cut her to the soul.

"In Spain you may have heard how the Catholic priests, and

particularly the monks, besiege the beds of the dying, to obtain

bequests for the good of the church. I have said that my mother's

temper was irritated by disease, and her judgment impaired in

proportion. She gathered spirits and force from the resentment which

the priests around her bed excited by their importunity, and the

boldness of the stern sect of reformers, to which she had secretly

adhered, seemed to animate her dying tongue. She avowed the religion

she had so long concealed; renounced all hope and aid which did not

come by and through its dictates; rejected with contempt the

ceremonial of the Romish church; loaded the astonished priests with

reproaches for their greediness and hypocrisy, and commanded them to

leave her house. They went in bitterness and rage, but it was to

return with the inquisitorial power, its warrants, and its officers;

and they found only the cold corpse left of her, on whom they had

hoped to work their vengeance. As I was soon discovered to have shared

my mother's heresy, I was dragged from her dead body, imprisoned in a

solitary cloister, and treated with severity, which the Abbess assured

me was due to the looseness of my life, as well as my spiritual

errors. I avowed my marriage, to justify the situation in which I

found myself--I implored the assistance of the Superior to communicate

my situation to my husband. She smiled coldly at the proposal, and

told me the church had provided a better spouse for me; advised me to

secure myself of divine grace hereafter, and deserve milder treatment

here, by presently taking the veil. In order to convince me that I had

no other resource, she showed me a royal decree, by which all my

estate was hypothecated to the convent of Saint Magdalen, and became

their complete property upon my death, or my taking the vows. As I

was, both from religious principle, and affectionate attachment to my

husband, absolutely immovable in my rejection of the veil, I believe--

may heaven forgive me if I wrong her--that the Abbess was desirous to

make sure of my spoils, by hastening the former event.

"It was a small and a poor convent, and situated among the mountains

of Guadarrama. Some of the sisters were the daughters of neighbouring

Hidalgoes, as poor as they were proud and ignorant; others were women

immured there on account of their vicious conduct. The Superior

herself was of a high family, to which she owed her situation; but she

was said to have disgraced her connexions by her conduct during youth,

and now, in advanced age, covetousness and the love of power, a spirit

too of severity and cruelty, had succeeded to the thirst after

licentious pleasure. I suffered much under this woman--and still her

dark, glassy eye, her tall, shrouded form, and her rigid features,

haunt my slumbers.

"I was not destined to be a mother. I was very ill, and my recovery

was long doubtful. The most violent remedies were applied, if remedies

they indeed were. My health was restored at length, against my own

expectation and that of all around me. But, when I first again beheld

the reflection of my own face, I thought it was the visage of a ghost.

I was wont to be flattered by all, but particularly by my husband, for

the fineness of my complexion--it was now totally gone, and, what is

more extraordinary, it has never returned. I have observed that the

few who now see me, look upon me as a bloodless phantom--Such has been

the abiding effect of the treatment to which I was subjected. May God

forgive those who were the agents of it!--I thank Heaven I can say so

with as sincere a wish, as that with which I pray for forgiveness of

my own sins. They now relented somewhat towards me--moved perhaps to

compassion by my singular appearance, which bore witness to my

sufferings; or afraid that the matter might attract attention during a

visitation of the bishop, which was approaching. One day, as I was

walking in the convent-garden, to which I had been lately admitted, a

miserable old Moorish slave, who was kept to cultivate the little

spot, muttered as I passed him, but still keeping his wrinkled face

and decrepit form in the same angle with the earth--'There is Heart's

Ease near the postern.'

"I knew something of the symbolical language of flowers, once carried

to such perfection among the Moriscoes of Spain; but if I had been

ignorant of it, the captive would soon have caught at any hint which

seemed to promise liberty. With all the haste consistent with the

utmost circumspection--for I might be observed by the Abbess or some

of the sisters from the window--I hastened to the postern. It was

closely barred as usual, but when I coughed slightly, I was answered

from the other side--and, O heaven! it was my husband's voice which

said, 'Lose not a minute here at present, but be on this spot when the

vesper bell has tolled.'

"I retired in an ecstasy of joy. I was not entitled or permitted to

assist at vespers, but was accustomed to be confined to my cell while

the nuns were in the choir. Since my recovery, they had discontinued

locking the door; though the utmost severity was denounced against me

if I left these precincts. But, let the penalty be what it would, I

hastened to dare it.--No sooner had the last toll of the vesper bell

ceased to sound, than I stole from my chamber, reached the garden

unobserved, hurried to the postern, beheld it open with rapture, and

in the next moment was in my husband's arms. He had with him another

cavalier of noble mien--both were masked and armed. Their horses, with

one saddled for my use, stood in a thicket hard by, with two other

masked horsemen, who seemed to be servants. In less than two minutes

we were mounted, and rode off as fast as we could through rough and

devious roads, in which one of the domestics appeared to act as guide.

"The hurried pace at which we rode, and the anxiety of the moment,

kept me silent, and prevented my expressing my surprise or my joy save

in a few broken words. It also served as an apology for my husband's

silence. At length we stopped at a solitary hut--the cavaliers

dismounted, and I was assisted from my saddle, not by M----M----my

husband, I would say, who seemed busied about his horse, but by the

stranger.

"'Go into the hut,' said my husband, 'change your dress with the speed

of lightning--you will find one to _assist_ you--we must forward

instantly when you have shifted your apparel.'

"I entered the hut, and was received in the arms of the faithful Monna

Paula, who had waited my arrival for many hours, half distracted with

fear and anxiety. With her assistance I speedily tore off the detested

garments of the convent, and exchanged them for a travelling suit,

made after the English fashion. I observed that Monna Paula was in a

similar dress. I had but just huddled on my change of attire, when we

were hastily summoned to mount. A horse, I found, was provided for

Monna Paula, and we resumed our route. On the way, my convent-garb,

which had been wrapped hastily together around a stone, was thrown

into a lake, along the verge of which we were then passing. The two

cavaliers rode together in front, my attendant and I followed, and the

servants brought up the rear. Monna Paula, as we rode on, repeatedly

entreated me to be silent upon the road, as our lives depended on it.

I was easily reconciled to be passive, for, the first fever of spirits

which attended the sense of liberation and of gratified affection

having passed away, I felt as it were dizzy with the rapid motion; and

my utmost exertion was necessary to keep my place on the saddle, until

we suddenly (it was now very dark) saw a strong light before us.

"My husband reined up his horse, and gave a signal by a low whistle

twice repeated, which was answered from a distance. The whole party

then halted under the boughs of a large cork-tree, and my husband,

drawing himself close to my side, said, in a voice which I then

thought was only embarrassed by fear for my safety,--'We must now

part. Those to whom I commit you are contrabandists, who only know you

as English-women, but who, for a high bribe, have undertaken to escort

you through the passes of the Pyrenees as far as Saint Jean de Luz.'

"'And do you not go with us?' I exclaimed with emphasis, though in a

whisper.

"'It is impossible,' he said, 'and would ruin all--See that you speak

in English in these people's hearing, and give not the least sign of

understanding what they say in Spanish--your life depends on it; for,

though they live in opposition to, and evasion of, the laws of Spain,

they would tremble at the idea of violating those of the church--I see

them coming--farewell--farewell.'

"The last words were hastily uttered-I endeavoured to detain him yet a

moment by my feeble grasp on his cloak.

"'You will meet me, then, I trust, at Saint Jean de Luz?'

"'Yes, yes,' he answered hastily, 'at Saint Jean de Luz you will meet

your protector.'

"He then extricated his cloak from my grasp, and was lost in the

darkness. His companion approached--kissed my hand, which in the agony

of the moment I was scarce sensible of, and followed my husband,

attended by one of the domestics."

The tears of Hermione here flowed so fast as to threaten the

interruption of her narrative. When she resumed it, it was with a kind

of apology to Margaret.

"Every circumstance," she said, "occurring in those moments, when I

still enjoyed a delusive idea of happiness, is deeply imprinted in my

remembrance, which, respecting all that has since happened, is waste

and unvaried as an Arabian desert. But I have no right to inflict on

you, Margaret, agitated as you are with your own anxieties, the

unavailing details of my useless recollections."

Margaret's eyes were full of tears--it was impossible it could be

otherwise, considering that the tale was told by her suffering

benefactress, and resembled, in some respects, her own situation; and

yet she must not be severely blamed, if, while eagerly pressing her

patroness to continue her narrative, her eye involuntarily sought the

door, as if to chide the delay of Monna Paula.

The Lady Hermione saw and forgave these conflicting emotions; and she,

too, must be pardoned, if, in her turn, the minute detail of her

narrative showed, that, in the discharge of feelings so long locked in

her own bosom, she rather forgot those which were personal to her

auditor, and by which it must be supposed Margaret's mind was

principally occupied, if not entirely engrossed.

"I told you, I think, that one domestic followed the gentlemen," thus

the lady continued her story, "the other remained with us for the

purpose, as it seemed, of introducing us to two persons whom M--, I

say, whom my husband's signal had brought to the spot. A word or two

of explanation passed between them and the servant, in a sort of

_patois_, which I did not understand; and one of the strangers taking

hold of my bridle, the other of Monna Paula's, they led us towards the

light, which I have already said was the signal of our halting. I

touched Monna Paula, and was sensible that she trembled very much,

which surprised me, because I knew her character to be so strong and

bold as to border upon the masculine.

"When we reached the fire, the gipsy figures of those who surrounded

it, with their swarthy features, large Sombrero hats, girdles stuck

full of pistols and poniards, and all the other apparatus of a roving

and perilous life, would have terrified me at another moment. But then

I only felt the agony of having parted from my husband almost in the

very moment of my rescue. The females of the gang--for there were four

or five women amongst these contraband traders--received us with a

sort of rude courtesy. They were, in dress and manners, not extremely

different from the men with whom they associated--were almost as hardy

and adventurous, carried arms like them, and were, as we learned from

passing circumstances, scarce less experienced in the use of them.

"It was impossible not to fear these wild people; yet they gave us no

reason to complain of them, but used us on all occasions with a kind

of clumsy courtesy, accommodating themselves to our wants and our

weakness during the journey, even while we heard them grumbling to

each other against our effeminacy,--like some rude carrier, who, in

charge of a package of valuable and fragile ware, takes every

precaution for its preservation, while he curses the unwonted trouble

which it occasions him. Once or twice, when they were disappointed in

their contraband traffic, lost some goods in a rencontre with the

Spanish officers of the revenue, and were finally pursued by a

military force, their murmurs assumed a more alarming tone, in the

terrified ears of my attendant and myself, when, without daring to

seem to understand them, we heard them curse the insular heretics, on

whose account God, Saint James, and Our Lady of the Pillar, had

blighted their hopes of profit. These are dreadful recollections,

Margaret."

"Why, then, dearest lady," answered Margaret, "will you thus dwell on

them?"

"It is only," said the Lady Hermione, "because I linger like a

criminal on the scaffold, and would fain protract the time that must

inevitably bring on the final catastrophe. Yes, dearest Margaret, I

rest and dwell on the events of that journey, marked as it was by

fatigue and danger, though the road lay through the wildest and most

desolate deserts and mountains, and though our companions, both men

and women, were fierce and lawless themselves, and exposed to the most

merciless retaliation from those with whom they were constantly

engaged--yet would I rather dwell on these hazardous events than tell

that which awaited me at Saint Jean de Luz."

"But you arrived there in safety?" said Margaret.

"Yes, maiden," replied the Lady Hermione; "and were guided by the

chief of our outlawed band to the house which had been assigned for

reception, with the same punctilious accuracy with which he would have

delivered a bale of uncustomed goods to a correspondent. I was told a

gentleman had expected me for two days--I rushed into the apartment,

and, when I expected to embrace my husband--I found myself in the arms

of his friend!"

"The villain!" exclaimed Margaret, whose anxiety had, in spite of

herself, been a moment suspended by the narrative of the lady.

"Yes," replied Hermione, calmly, though her voice somewhat faltered,

"it is the name that best--that well befits him. He, Margaret, for

whom I had sacrificed all--whose love and whose memory were dearer to

me than my freedom, when I was in the convent--than my life, when I

was on my perilous journey--had taken his measures to shake me off,

and transfer me, as a privileged wanton, to the protection of his

libertine friend. At first the stranger laughed at my tears and my

agony, as the hysterical passion of a deluded and overreached wanton,

or the wily affection of a courtezan. My claim of marriage he laughed

at, assuring me he knew it was a mere farce required by me, and

submitted to by his friend, to save some reserve of delicacy; and

expressed his surprise that I should consider in any other light a

ceremony which could be valid neither in Spain nor England, and

insultingly offered to remove my scruples, by renewing such a union

with me himself. My exclamations brought Monna Paula to my aid--she

was not, indeed, far distant, for she had expected some such scene."

"Good heaven!" said Margaret, "was she a confidant of your base

husband?"

"No," answered Hermione, "do her not that injustice. It was her

persevering inquiries that discovered the place of my confinement--it

was she who gave the information to my husband, and who remarked even

then that the news was so much more interesting to his friend than to

him, that she suspected, from an early period, it was the purpose of

the villain to shake me off. On the journey, her suspicions were

confirmed. She had heard him remark to his companion, with a cold

sarcastic sneer, the total change which my prison and my illness had

made on my complexion; and she had heard the other reply, that the

defect might be cured by a touch of Spanish red. This, and other

circumstances, having prepared her for such treachery, Monna Paula now

entered, completely possessed of herself, and prepared to support me.

Her calm representations went farther with the stranger than the

expressions of my despair. If he did not entirely believe our tale, he

at least acted the part of a man of honour, who would not intrude

himself on defenceless females, whatever was their character; desisted

from persecuting us with his presence; and not only directed Monna

Paula how we should journey to Paris, but furnished her with money for

the purpose of our journey. From the capital I wrote to Master Heriot,

my father's most trusted correspondent; he came instantly to Paris on

receiving the letter; and--But here comes Monna Paula, with more than

the sum you desired. Take it, my dearest maiden--serve this youth if

you will. But, O Margaret, look for no gratitude in return!"

The Lady Hermione took the bag of gold from her attendant, and gave it

to her young friend, who threw herself into her arms, kissed her on

both the pale cheeks, over which the sorrows so newly awakened by her

narrative had drawn many tears, then sprung up, wiped her own

overflowing eyes, and left the Foljambe apartments with a hasty and

resolved step.