The person who followed was her lover's page, with eager haste in his look; and, the moment he came up, he held out a letter to his master, exclaiming, "A messenger from your uncle, my lord, has brought this posthaste from England."
Algernon Grey took it calmly, opened the packet and read. But Agnes could see his countenance change; his brow contracted--his lip quivered--his cheek grew red.
"This is bad news, yet good, my Agnes," he said. "To tell the bad first, I must away to England without an hour's delay; but, as some consolation, I learn that all those difficulties and impediments which seemed raised up like a barrier between me and happiness are now giving way, and, ere a month be over, must certainly fall to the ground."
"To England, without an hour's delay?" cried Agnes. "Oh, you cannot go! You are unfit for such a journey."
"Nay, not so," replied her lover. "To Mannheim will be the worst part of the affair. Then dropping down the Rhine in a light boat would but refresh me, were it not that I part from you, my Agnes; but the joyful thought of my return must cheer me; and, though the hours will be long, they will not be many, ere I return to claim this hand, not promised, yet mine, I know."
"Oh, the dread uncertainty of the future!" said Agnes, with a deep sigh and eyes full of tears. "Had any one told me, Algernon, but a few brief months ago, when I first met you here, and wandered through these gardens with you, that I should have seen such sights, and witnessed such disasters, should I have believed it?--should I have believed even that I myself should be so changed in thoughts, in feelings, almost in spirit, I may say? And what may not the coming months, too, bring? I thought it was bitter enough, when I parted at Prague from those I loved dearly, from those connected with me by the ties of kindred, with a strange uncertain fate before both them and me; but what will it be now, to part with you!"
"Let us not cloud the moment, dearest Agnes," said Algernon Grey, "which in itself is a sad one, with gloomy anticipations. I go, I acknowledge, full of hope; for the thought of being freed from a detested bond, which bars my union with her I love, is too joyful not to lighten even the pangs of parting. But you say, my Agnes, that at Prague you left those connected with you by the ties of kindred; I knew not that you had kindred there."
Agnes shook her head sadly and thoughtfully; for the tone of the mind contrives to extract from every event reflections of the same hue with itself. "It shows how little we can count even on an hour," she said. "I had thought to-day to tell you, amidst these fair scenes, a melancholy tale of days long gone--to dwell upon it, and to let you hear each incident, without which, a story such as this is but a lifeless sort of stick, like a vine stripped of its leaves in the winter season. But now, as we go back, I must do it drily and briefly.--My mother was the Abbess of a noble convent in France, of the high family of Latour d'Auverne, and, consequently, by the father's side third cousin, and by the mother's second cousin to the Electress Dowager, Louisa Juliana. In the course of the war, an English gentleman, of high family but small fortune, was wounded severely whilst serving under Henry the Fourth of France, was brought to the small town of Mousson, where the Abbey stood, and was tended kindly by the good sisters. The greater part of the family of Latour are zealous Protestants, as you know; but this branch has always been vehemently Catholic; and the young Abbess had been brought up in that faith. You know the degree of liberty which nuns of high rank have in France; so that the vows they take place very little restraint upon their intercourse with the world. The Abbess saw my father often; acquaintance, with kind care on the one side and gratitude on the other, soon changed into friendship and to love. My mother was frightened at her feelings; and when my father first ventured to speak his affection, fled from him in terror and in anger. But they met again, and then he found means to shake her trust in the dogmas of the Church to which she had hitherto belonged. He brought her into communication with a Protestant minister. The Bible in its simple purity was laid before her. Her eyes were opened, and she renounced the superstitious faith! She dared not do so openly, however; for she was surrounded by powerful and unscrupulous relations, who would have hesitated at no means to punish, where they could not restrain; and she was wedded in secret to my father, till the opportunity served for removing her to a Protestant land. It became necessary that she should quit the convent; and they removed to a small solitary place in the Vosges, where I was born. Various events detained them between four and five years, living concealed in profound retirement; but they were sought for everywhere; and my father found, at length, that it would be necessary to fly, for that a clue had been obtained to their retreat, and pursuit was coming near. They, consequently, set off for the Rhine on an autumn evening, my father and mother in a carriage, with a few servants on horseback, and my father's horse led behind. Their movements, however, had been watched. In passing through a wood the carriage was fired upon, and my mother and one of the men wounded.[[5]] She said, at first, that the injury was but slight; and my father, springing out, mounted his horse, and attacked the assassins. They were speedily put to flight; and one of them was killed by my father's own hand. When they came to examine, they found that it was my mother's own nephew who had fallen--but that she never knew; and, pursuing their journey rapidly, they reached the Palatinate, where, at the town of Franckenthal, the wound my mother had received was first dressed. It was then discovered to be much more serious than had been supposed. She lingered a week, and expired in my father's arms!"
Agnes paused; and Algernon Grey demanded eagerly, "But what became of your father?"
"He hastened hither," continued Agnes, "told his tale to the Electress, who had already been made aware of part, and eagerly besought her countenance and protection for myself. She promised she would be to me as a mother; and she has been so, as you know, Algernon. But my mother's brother, a stern and cruel man, was in high favour with the Queen of France; and, as soon as it was known my father had found refuge here, the Elector was required to give him up to answer for my cousin's death. Could a fair trial have been expected, he would have surrendered; but it was known that such was not to be obtained, and he was obliged to fly. He served for several years in distant lands; and when it was supposed that men's passions had become more calm, he returned to be near his child. You have often seen him--know him well, Algernon. But Duke John of Zweibrücken, who was guardian to the Elector Frederic at the time of his return, insisted that some concealment was still necessary; and my father, assuming the character of his brother, who had died the year before, has passed ever since for my uncle, in order not to give offence to the court of France."