CHAPTER XXXI.
The roads were bad, and heavy with rain which had fallen during the night, but still Ralph and Hortensia kept up the quick pace at which they had set out for some six or seven miles. They spoke little, but the rapid motion seemed to animate and cheer them both; and at length Hortensia drew in her rein, her color revived by the air and exercise, and a brighter look of hope in her beautiful eye.
"I think we must have distanced them, Ralph," said Hortensia, "and we can ride on more quietly now."
"I trust there is no danger at present," answered Ralph; "and though, dear lady, you seem as if you were boon companion of the huntress goddess, it may be better to spare the horses."
"One of Diana's maidens I suppose I was destined to be," replied Hortensia; and then, as if to take away the point from her words, she added, "I was ever very fond of hunting, I remember, when a child--except, indeed, the catching of the beast, which I could never bear. The shrill scream of a poor hare when caught by the dogs, banished me at length from the hunting-field forever."
She fell into thought again for a moment, and then lifting up her eyes to her companion's face, she said, "We are very foolish, Ralph, I think--you--I--every body."
"Indeed!" said Ralph, smiling; "why think you so?"
"Because," replied Hortensia, "not content with all the great and ugly evils with which Fate has crammed this mortal abode of ours, we set up looking-glasses all round them in our minds to multiply them by reflection. Is not this foolish, Ralph?"
"Methinks it is," answered her companion; "but I believe the reason of it is that we wish to see them on every side, to see if we can not diminish them or cast them out."
"Vain effort!" replied Hortensia. "Our path is straight on; we can not turn aside from it. The ills that lie upon it must be encountered in front, and there is no use in watching for them till they are within reach. Let us be wise, Ralph, if it be but for this day. Let us enjoy the present as far as we can. You think no more of a dark past or a gloomy future, and I will cast from my mind many a heavy thought and anxious care which the world's eye shall never behold. See! the sun is breaking out from behind the clouds, mottling the livery of the sky with gold. Let us fancy that in a calm, peaceful land, in a softened summer day, with nothing but prosperity round us, a happy home before us in which to rest, a short but bright vista of pleasant, youthful hours behind us, and light and loveliness on every side--let us fancy, I say, that we are taking a morning's ride for mere enjoyment. Can you do your part?"
"I will try," replied Ralph; "and, indeed, dear lady, as you say, it is the wisest plan. I have turned all the events of these last few days in my mind during this whole morning, and during the greater part of last night too; but thought has come to no result; and, as you see, the best-devised plans are frustrated in the moment of execution. I really feel inclined to be a fatalist, and to think that Destiny is leading me on blindfold, struggle how I may."
"Perhaps so," replied Hortensia; "but you are already breaking our compact, and moralizing upon things that be. Let us get into dreamland, Ralph; it is the mind's best refuge. You never were in France, or Italy, or Greece, I think; never saw the seven sober, united provinces, nor dwelt among the stiff and boorish aristocracy of Germany?"
"Never," replied Ralph, "never;" but yet the very name of these places turned his thoughts, as Hortensia intended, into another channel; and the two continued, not without an effort, indeed, to discuss subjects the least possibly connected with their own fate or the circumstances of the moment. Often--very often would thought recur to painful themes; the distant barking of a dog--the wild, joyous galloping of a horse in a neighboring field, would startle and alarm with the thought of fresh danger; but then, each time this occurred, the effort to banish the night-mare of the moment would be less difficult, till at length they nearly succeeded in forgetting all that they wished to forget.
Thus the time passed more pleasantly, and the road seemed shorter and less wearisome than it might have done had they yielded greater attention to pains and anxieties. That which Hortensia counseled and was practicing, has been, through the history of the world, one of the great secrets of philosophy and fortitude. The stoic bore his shame, the martyr his anguish, by thinking of something else; and great would be the blessing to man if he could attain to such mastery over his own mind as to give no more thought to any painful circumstance than is absolutely necessary to safety.
Ralph's heart was well guarded, indeed, or it could not have gone through that journey with Hortensia in safety; not so much from the beauty of her person, or the charm of her conversation, or the sweetness of her voice, or the high-hearted mind which seemed to pour a sort of halo of light around her, as from the deep thoughts of her--her character--her fate--which that long, dreamy ride suggested. He was thinking of her continually, even while conversing with her on indifferent things--thinking of her, not in a manner that could have pained Margaret if she had seen all his thoughts, but thinking of her far more than Margaret would perhaps have liked. The words which gave his mind that direction were those which Hortensia herself had used in speaking of herself, when she promised, for the enjoyment of the moment, to cast away from her mind "many a heavy thought and deep anxiety which the world could never see;" and on this text he went on, discoursing with himself, as I have said, even while he was striving to keep up a gay, wandering conversation with her.
The way seemed short, and neither Ralph nor Hortensia could believe that they had gone sixteen miles from the turning of the road when they saw, at length, a large, good-looking inn standing at a corner where two ways crossed. That which they were traveling themselves was a mere lane. The other, which traversed it, was evidently a high road, and Ralph said, "I hope we are right. We surely can not have come so many miles already?"
Hortensia looked up at him with a gay smile, and pointing to his horse, replied, "The poor uncommunicative beasts know better, Ralph; see you, your horse hangs his head, and both think they will be much the better of corn and water. Hark you, Peter," she continued, turning to the servant who had followed them, "ride up to yon inn door, and ask how far this is from St. Mary's. That will give us some indication of the distance we have come. But mind, mention not my name or Mr. Woodhall's on any account. It might be very dangerous to me, Peter, and I think you love your mistress well enough not to risk her safety by any indiscretion."
"I won't say a word, my lady," replied the good man, pulling off his hat as he rode forward.
In two or three minutes more, Ralph and Hortensia were seated quietly in a comfortable small room of an old-fashioned inn, with an old-fashioned landlord waiting upon them. He was full of attention, and often took his snowy night-cap in his hand, uncovering his bald head to guests whom he saw were worthy of reverence.
"Dinner shall be placed before you, my lord and my lady, in a moment," he said. "You have just come at the nick of time, for we had a great banquet ordered for Master Jenkins and his friends. He was to be married the day after to-morrow to pretty Mistress Betty Parker of the Grange; but those soldiers who came down to join Oglethorpe's regiment last night carried him off with them for disaffection--foul fall them! His only fault, if it was a fault, was too much affection--for Mistress Betty Parker. He would have given her up his whole soul and substance; and as to his being a Nonconformist, he was as good a Churchman as any in these parts, was baptized by old Doctor Hicks, and confirmed by the Bishop of Wells. But I'll show you your bed-room, my lord and my lady. It is all quite snug and comfortable, in here, out of this parlor," and he threw open a door leading into a very nice room beyond.
"You make a mistake, my good friend," said Ralph, while Hortensia's face glowed with painful crimson. "I am not this lady's husband, but merely protecting her on her journey in these dangerous times."
"Well, sir, I hope you soon may be," said the pertinacious host. "You couldn't have a better, nor she either, for that matter, I'm sure--Good gracious! the lady's crying--Dear me, madam, I'm very sorry--I beg pardon a thousand times--I'm a foolish old man and must chatter."
"Never mind, never mind, my good man," replied Hortensia, drying her eyes. "It is I who am foolish; but I have been subject to much fatigue and anxiety to-day. We had very nearly fallen in with a band of these lawless soldiers who are about, and I was obliged to leave my carriage on the road, broken down, and ride on under this kind friend's protection."
"Oh, well, if that is all, he can have the bed-room just opposite, where he can come to you in a moment if you want him," said the host, and again Hortensia's face glowed like a rose.
"If I stay the night, I may need that for my maid," she replied; "the girl will come on as soon as possible. I dare say you can find him a room somewhere else."
"I have none so good," said the landlord. "Twenty-five is rather damp, and number seven--"
"Never mind, never mind," said Ralph, "any one will do for me. These must be for the Lady Hortensia and her maid--Now go and hurry dinner as fast as possible."
The old man turned toward the door, but stopped suddenly, and looked round with a bright expression, as if a good thought struck him,
"Won't it be better," he said, "to have a bed put into my lady's room for the maid?"
"Exactly--exactly," said Ralph; "that will do very well."
"Capital--capital," cried the old landlord, snapping his fingers with an air of triumph; "that hits it exactly; then you can have the opposite room, and comfort them both if they should need it."
Ralph could bear no more, and burst into a fit of laughter, in which, to say sooth, Hortensia joined, although she was not very sure whether she should laugh or weep again.
The old man looked in some surprise, and left the room with a somewhat sheepish air.
As soon as he was gone, Hortensia raised her eyes to Ralph's face with an expression of much anxiety, rendered almost whimsical by the faint glow of merriment that still lingered like sunset round their lips. "This will not do, Ralph," she said, in a timid tone; "I hope my people will come and join us soon; but I must not--I fear I must not travel with you alone, though God knows, and you know, that our feelings toward each other would not shrink from the scrutiny of all the world."
Ralph took her hand and pressed his lips upon it. "You have been pained too much on, my account already," he said; "but I must and will see you safe to your journey's end, Hortensia. If your maid does not join you at once, I doubt not we can engage some honest girl here to fill her place for the time, and accompany you on the way to-morrow. No one who knows you could doubt you for an instant."
"But what may not Margaret think?" asked Lady Danvers, turning very pale.
"Margaret's thoughts are all generous," replied Ralph; "and if she knew you as I do, she would almost worship you for your kindness to me."
"Without a doubt or a suspicion?" asked Hortensia, sadly.
"Without a shadow or a cloud to dim her confidence," replied Ralph, boldly. "Others might insinuate what Margaret would not believe; but I feel it now, dear Lady Danvers, to be a duty to you, to her, and to myself, as soon as I can find an opportunity, to write to my dear cousin, and tell her all the generous, noble, disinterested kindness you have shown to me. It is risking a good deal, perhaps, but I think I can find the means of conveying the letter to her secretly."
"Perhaps I may find courage to write to her also," replied Hortensia, thoughtfully. "A woman, in a woman's letter, soon reads a woman's heart; and mine I don't wish to conceal--from her eyes, at least. She will understand me."
Ralph pressed her hand kindly in his own. His brow was clear and calm; his eye expressed, perhaps, esteem, regard, affection, but not passion, and he answered, "She will understand you as I understand you; she will be grateful to you as I am grateful to you; and she will neither doubt, nor fear, nor hesitate, but comprehend you, most excellent and amiable of human beings, as you will ever be comprehended and loved by one who esteems you more than any other being upon earth but her with whom his whole fate and existence has been linked from early childhood."
Heaven knows what it was in his words, but Hortensia bowed her head till it touched her hands upon the table, and burst into so vehement a fit of sobbing, that Ralph, after in vain endeavoring to soothe her or even to attract her attention to himself, called loudly from the door for help, and soon brought the landlord's wife and daughter to the assistance of his fair companion.
The peculiar situation in which they were placed prevented him from carrying her himself to her bed-room; but he had soon after the happiness of hearing that she was calmer and better; and for an hour or two he waited tranquilly, in the pleasant and quiet abode which they had found, for some news of all they had left behind them on the road.
Hortensia had just rejoined him--had just made one of those excuses which women often make for any agitation they betray when emotion overpowers habitual self-command, saying that she had overcalculated her strength, and that the fatigue which she had lately undergone had affected her more than she had expected.
"The truth is, I suppose, Ralph," she said, "I have been acting the fine court lady too much of late, and in cities and crowds have lost somewhat of the dairy-maid health I used to boast of in days of yore. I must abandon such enfeebling scenes, and once more ride my fifteen or twenty miles in the day, as I used to do; for I am resolved not to be a languishing dame till my hair begins to turn gray, and not even then if I can help it."
They were gazing forth from the window, which, looking over a low copse on the opposite side of the road, gave a beautiful view of that rich and beautiful country, which extends for many miles along the borders of Somerset and Devonshire--a land which probably my eyes will never see again, but which will be present to my mind to the last hour of life. The garden of England well may they call it; and when they say that, surely they mean the garden of the world. The sun was shining fitfully; the clouds, broken, were drifting away on a swift wind; the trees and fields were sparkling with the past rain, and the soft exhalation of the warm earth marked out the aerial perspective of every far-receding slope more tenderly than usual. From the refreshed earth the air rose up loaded with perfume, and the note of the blackbird poured rich and musical from the covert, as if to keep scent, and sight, and sound in harmony. They had not gazed for above two minutes, however, and Hortensia had hardly had time to ask her own heart how and why it was that Nature's own world was so bright, and beautiful, and peaceful, while man's was so full of ruggedness and thorns, when the sight of Gaunt Stilling trotting up quickly to the door, and quite alone, called the attention both of herself and her companion.
The man asked some questions quickly of an hostler who was standing by the horse-trough, gave him some large saddle-bags to carry into the house, and then dismounting, entered the inn. A moment after, he was in the presence of his master and Lady Danvers, and Ralph argued at once, from the expression of his face, that matters had gone wrong with him. Nevertheless, his words did not convey any evil tidings.
"Lucky you didn't stop, my lady," he said, addressing Hortensia, "for we were very likely to have a fight for it, and two shots were fired, which did no damage to any thing but the carriage. However, we have saved it from actual plunder, though I believe Kirke's lambs have filched two or three things of no very great importance."
"But where is the carriage?" asked Ralph; "and where is Lady Danvers's maid?"
"It will be impossible to get the carriage repaired at all till to-morrow," replied Gaunt Stilling, "and it may be night then before it is ready but we contrived at last to get it drawn up into the yard of a good farmer, who will take care of it, and the men and all, and Mistress Alice to boot, till they can set off to Wells. As to the young woman, my lady," he said, with a laugh, "you should have her taught to ride; for we could find no possible way of getting her on here, or I would have brought her with me. We contrived a capital sort of pad saddle for her, and mounted her tolerably well; but no sooner was she on upon one side than she was off upon the other. So the matter was in vain; for I knew my horse would have enough to do to bring one here alone, otherwise I would have brought her on a pillion behind me. I have brought a heap of things for your ladyship, however, which the girl crammed into a big pair of bags I bought from the farmer."
"Have you heard any news of the other forces that are marching?" asked Ralph; "it is absolutely necessary that we should get some accurate intelligence."
"Hard to be found, sir," replied Gaunt Stilling; "I don't think much that there are more than three men among the king's troops who know which way they are marching, or what they are doing, and Feversham is not one of them. If Monmouth had but one good regiment of foot and a handful of horse, he would beat them all in detail; he must win a battle or he's lost, however, for they're pressing him back upon the sea just by their dead weight."
"But can he win a battle with such ill-disciplined and ill-armed forces as he has?" inquired Ralph.
"I don't rightly know, sir," replied Stilling. "His men are bad enough, in all conscience; but the king's are not much better--Feversham, an idle, effeminate fop--vain, too, as a peacock; the men a set of drunken marauders, only fit to scour a conquered country, and the officers, for the most part a set of dissolute, enfeebled libertines, who know as much of tactics or campaigning as that table. Your cousin, Lord Coldenham, is one of them, sir. I think it would not take a very strong man to knock down a whole regiment of such, like a child's house of cards. But there is Churchill," he added, "and Oglethorpe, and Dumbarton's regiment, and the Blues. Monmouth will fall down there if they come across him. His only chance would be to beat Feversham first, and then push on to London. A battle won and a forward march would make many cold friends warm ones."
"But have you been able to obtain no intelligence, then, which may guide us?" asked his master; "I care not for myself, Stilling, if I could see Lady Danvers safely at Wells."
"Ay, that is the thing, sir," answered Stilling; "for the whole country is in a state of commotion, and it is almost equally dangerous to move or to sit still. The whole roads to the south and east are in a state you can form no idea of. Every sort of outrage is being committed. Nothing is safe, nobody is respected. The landlords are ruined by having men quartered upon them. The villages are plundered. The farmer's horses are all taken to draw the baggage-wagons and artillery, and you would suppose not only that martial law was proclaimed, but that the whole land was given up to pillage. It is as bad as Tangier; and it was only because Kirke knew me, and I knew Kirke, that her ladyship's carriage was spared. When I told him that if he did not keep up some discipline about the carriage at least, some secrets might come out he might not like to have public, I could see him fingering his pistol, as if he did not well know whether to shoot me or bid his men march on; but I had a pistol too, and my hand upon it, and I think that settled the question with him. However, all I can say is, we must go on very carefully to-morrow, for nobody seems to know which way Monmouth has turned. I dare say we shall hear, however, as we proceed, and as to the rest, we must trust to the chapter of accidents. Now, with your good leave, sir, I will go and get something to eat, for I have neither had bit nor sup since last night, and my horse is nearly as badly off as his master."
Gaunt Stilling withdrew, and Ralph and Hortensia were left alone to consult over the somewhat cheerless prospects before them. To stay where they were for that night seemed inevitable; and, following Ralph's suggestion, Lady Danvers sent for the good woman of the house, to inquire if some young woman could not be procured in the neighborhood to act in the capacity of her maid for a few days. The landlady willingly agreed that her own daughter should sleep in Hortensia's room, and attend upon her that night, but no consideration would induce her to allow the girl to quit her home on the following day.
Inquiries were then made in the village, which lay about a quarter of a mile down the road; but all proved vain. The terror which the various bodies of troops had occasioned rendered every parent anxious to keep his child at home; and Hortensia was obliged to make up her mind to undergo any evil construction that the world might put upon her conduct, as she was placed in a position from which, however unpleasant, there was no escape.
It would be tedious to trace the adventures of the next two or three days, for they only consisted of embarrassments and disappointments very similar to those which have been already noticed. Whichever way Ralph and Hortensia directed their steps, intelligence reached them that some body of troops lay between them and the place they sought to reach; and, turned at every point, several days were lost in fruitless wanderings, which only brought them nearer to the Bristol Channel, and further both from Wells and Hortensia's own dwelling.
Sometimes a feeling of despair would come over Ralph, and he more than once thought of seeking out the quarters of his cousin Lord Coldenham, of whose presence with the royal forces he was now assured, and trusting to his honor to find means of conveying Lady Danvers safely on her way. But when he proposed such a plan to her, she rejected it at once in a manner which admitted of no further argument.