De L'Orme. / The Works of G. P. R. James, Esq., Vol. XVI.

by G. P. R. James

That day ended, and another began, and, springing from my bed with the vigorous freshness that dwellers in cities never know, I took my gun, and proceeded to the mountain, purposing to search the rocks for an izzard. Gradually, however, I became thoughtful; and, revolving the events just past, many a varied feeling rose in my mind; and I found that one stirring and active day had changed me more than years of what had gone before--that it was, in fact, my first day of manhood.

I had staked and won in the perilous game of mortal strife. I had shed blood--I had passed the rubicon--I was a man. Onward! onward! onward! was the cry of my heart. I felt that I could not--and I wished not that I could--go back from that I was to that which I had been.

And yet there was a regret--a feeling of undefinable clinging to the past--a sort of innate conviction that the peaceful, the quiet, the tranquil, was left behind for ever; and even while I joyed in the active and gay existence that Fancy and Hope spread out before me, I looked back to the gone, and yielded it a sigh, for the calm enjoyments that were lost for ever.

From these ideas, my mind easily turned to the latter part of that day which formed the theme of my thoughts, and I could not help hoping, nay, even believing, that the fainting of Helen Arnault was linked in some degree with concern for me. I had remarked the blush and the agitation when first I came; I had noted her behaviour on the kiss which I had taken; and from the whole I gathered hope.

Yet, nevertheless, I reproached myself for having used a liberty with her, which her dependent situation might lead her to look upon less as a token of love than as an insult, and I resolved to justify myself in her eyes. And how to justify myself? it may be asked. By taking that irrevocable step, which would clear all doubt from her mind. But whether it was solely to efface any bad impression that my conduct might have caused, or whether it was, that I gladly availed myself of that pretext to act as my heart rather than my reason prompted, I cannot tell. Certain it is, that I loved her with an ardour and a truth that I did not even know myself; and such a passion could not long have been concealed, even if the impatience of my disposition had not hurried me on to acknowledge it to her so soon.

By the time I had taken this resolution, I had climbed high amongst the hills, and was wandering on upon the rocky ridge that overhung the valley of the Gave, when I caught a glimpse of some one strolling slowly onward along the path by the riverside. It wanted but one look to tell me that it was Helen. High above her as I was, I could distinguish neither her figure nor her face; but it mattered not--I felt as well convinced that it was she, as if I had stood within a pace of her, and began descending the rocks as quickly as I could to join her in her walk, watching her as I did so, to see that she did not turn back before I could reach her.

After having gone some way up the valley, looking back every ten steps towards the château, as if she had imposed on herself the task of walking a certain distance, and would be glad when it was over, Helen at length seated herself on a piece of rock, under the shade of an old oak, that started out across the stream; and there, with her head bent over the running waters, she offered one of the loveliest pictures my eyes ever beheld. She was, as I have said, in the spring of womanhood. Time had not laid his withering touch upon a single grace, or a single beauty; it was all expanding loveliness--that perfect moment of human existence, when all has been gained, and nothing has been lost; when nature has done her utmost, and years have yet known nothing of decay.

I approached her as quietly as I could, and when I came near, only said, "Helen," in a low tone, not calculated to surprise her. She started up, however, and the same blush mantled in her cheeks which I had seen the day before. The good-morrow that she gave me was confused enough; and, in truth, my own heart beat so fast, that I did not know how to proceed, till I saw her about to return to the château.

"Stay, Helen," said I, taking her hand, and bringing her again to the rock on which she had been sitting--"stay for one moment, and listen to me; for I have something to say to you, which, perhaps, I may never have an opportunity of saying hereafter."

The colours varied in her cheek like the hues of an evening sky, and she trembled very much, but she let me lead her back; and for a moment raising her eyes from the ground, they glanced towards my face, from under their long dark lashes, with a look in which fear and timidity, and love, too, I thought, were all mingled; but it fell in a moment, and I went on with a greater degree of boldness; for all that love well, I believe, are, in some degree, cowards, and but gain courage from the fears of those they seek to win.