If the sounds of music and the clangor of festivity did break in upon this mood from time to time, it was but to convey some indistinct and shadowy impression of the inconsistency between his sad brooding and the scene by which he was surrounded,—between the terrible conflict within him and the wild gayety of those who wasted no thought upon him.
CHAPTER XXVII. MURDER OF MR. KENNYFECK—CASHEL DETAINED ON SUSPICION.
“Amid their feasting and their joy
A cry of 'Blood!' was heard.”
It was past midnight, and the scene within the walls of Tubbermore was one of the most brilliant festivity. All that could fascinate by beauty,—all that could dazzle by splendor, or amuse by fancy, or enliven by wit, were there, stimulated by that atmosphere of pleasure in which they moved. Loveliness elevated by costume, gayety exalted into exuberant joyousness by the impulse of a thousand high-beating hearts, passed and repassed, and mingled together, till they formed that brilliant assemblage wherein individuality is lost, and the memory carries away nothing but dreamy images of enjoyment, visions of liquid eyes and silky tresses, of fair rounded arms and fairy feet, with stray syllables that linger on the ear and vibrate in the heart for many a long year to come.
It would have been difficult to imagine that one, even one, amid that gorgeous throng, had any other thought than pleasure, so headlong seemed the impulse of enjoyment.' In vain the moralist might have searched for any trace of that care which is believed to be the unceasing burden of humanity. Even upon those who sustained no portion of the brilliancy around them, pleasure had set its seal. Lady Janet herself wondered, and admired, and stared, in an ecstasy of delight she could neither credit nor comprehend. It was true, Linton's absence—“unaccountable,” as she called it—was a sad drawback upon her enjoyment. Yet her own shrewdness enabled her to penetrate many a mystery, and detect beneath the dusky folds of more than one domino those who a few moments previous had displayed themselves in all the splendor of a gorgeous costume.
In vain did Lord Charles Frobisher cover his Tartar dress with a Laplander's cloak and hood, to follow Miss Meek unnoticed. In vain did Upton abandon his royalty as Henry IV. for a Dominican's cowl, the better to approach a certain fair nun with dark blue eyes; Lady Janet whispered, “Take care, Olivia,” as she passed her. Even Mrs. Leicester White, admirably disguised as a Gypsy Fortune-teller, did not dare to speculate upon Lady Janet's “future”—possibly, out of fear of her “present.” Mr. Howie alone escaped detection, as, dressed to represent the Obelisk of the “Luqsor,” he stood immovable in the middle of the room, listening to everybody, and never supposed to be anything but an inanimate ornament of the saloon.
It was only when a minuet was about to be formed, and a question arose as to whether the obelisk could not be removed, that the Egyptian monument was seen slowly sidling off amidst the company, to the great amusement of all who had not opened their confidences beneath its shadow. For an instant, the laughter that circulated in many a distant group was directed to this quarter, and bursts of merriment were excited by the absurdity of the incident. With that mysterious instinct by which moods of joy or grief are perpetuated from heart to heart, till each in a crowded assembly is moved as is his neighbor, the whole room shook with convulsive laughter. It was just then—at the very moment when boundless pleasure filled every avenue of feeling—a terrible cry, shrill and piercing, burst upon the air. All was still—still as a lone church at midnight. Each gazed upon the other, as if silently asking, had he heard the sound? Again it came, louder and nearer; and then a long, loud, swelling chant rang out, wild and frantic as it rose, till it died away in a cadence of the very saddest and dreariest meaning.
“What is it?—what can it be?” were uttered by many in broken voices; while others, too much terrified to speak, sank half fainting upon their seats, their colorless cheek and livid lips in terrible contrast to their gay attire.
“There! listen to it again!—Good Heaven! what can it be?”