"No," answered Morley, "I am not, my beloved; but even in intense joy itself, such as I now experience, there may be a melancholy, Juliet--at all events a pensiveness--as there must be, indeed, as long as man feels in his own heart that he is utterly unworthy of the goodness and mercy of God. Together with the sensation of relief and blessing which was given me by the tidings of this night, and the knowledge that you are mine without one shade of regret hanging over our union, came the recollection of how little I had merited such joy, how I had repined and struggled, how many evil acts I had actually been guilty of under the influence of despair, how many more I might have been tempted to commit, how many I was upon the very eve of plunging into. I must not tell you, Juliet--I cannot tell you all that my words to you this very night implied, before I found what were really the ties that bound you."
"Say not a word, dear Morley--say not a word," replied Juliet, sadly but tenderly; "it has been bitter enough to know that I have been making you wretched as well as myself. What would it be to think that I had plunged you into any evil?"
"It is past, Juliet--it is past!" said Morley; "and though the last year will ever remain upon my memory as one dark and gloomy spot, yet, dear girl, it may be no disadvantage to me to be a humbler man for the rest of my life, from sad experience of my own weakness.--But hark!" he exclaimed, hearing a sound unusual in that remote place, "there is the galloping of a horse's feet. I hope no bad news from Sorrento. Run down and see, good Adam, and bring me word quickly."
CHAPTER LVIII.
Morley Ernstein had not been alone in watching with eager terror the progress of the storm, and the wreck of the Sicilian polacca, on the night, with the events of which, we have lately been busy. Helen Barham, also, had seen the first effects of the squall, with terror the more intense, because she knew, not only that Juliet must be at that very time upon the waters, but also because she was aware that she must be within a few leagues of the shore of Sorrento, upon which the wind was blowing with such dreadful vehemence. Juliet had written her a note from Capri, where they had paused for an hour or two to see the island, and had even so accurately described the vessel, that Helen had seen and recognised it before the storm began. Each howl of the gale, when it first commenced, made her heart sink with apprehension; and though there be some people in the world, unfortunately, who may dream that thoughts would come across Helen's mind to check if not to mitigate her anxiety for her friend, yet be it said, most truly, that Helen only remembered Juliet at that moment as one who had ever been tender and kind, who had been a sister to her when the ties of kindred failed, who had loved her with disinterested love, and soothed her in the time of sorrow and mourning.
As soon it was possible, notwithstanding the fury of the wind, she went out to the highest point of the coast, though it required all the strength of Harry Martin, and another strong man, to steady her steps. But Helen could not resolve to remain within, while one whom she so dearly loved was perishing amidst the waves; and on the top of the promontory she found a number of Italians, gazing out likewise, with their eyes all fixed upon that vessel--now mastless and abandoned to the fury of the waters--which was growing dimmer and more dim to their sight, as the beams of day were fading away from the sky. Then came the signals of distress, and all those terrible moments, ere the polacca was totally hidden by the night. But Helen, though powerless, remained not inactive; she endeavoured, though in vain, to induce the fishermen to put off a boat; she enquired fruitlessly for any persons more venturous than the rest; she offered sums that seemed of incredible magnitude to the poor Sorrentines, for any one who would go forth to give aid to the vessel in distress. None would undertake it; and as the night went on, one by one the people who had been assembled dropped away, and left her standing there, still gazing out into the darkness, but unable to tear herself from the spot.
At length, the same idea struck Harry Martin, which had occurred to old Adam Gray. "In half an hour from this time, madam," he said, "that ship will be upon these rocks. Will it not be better to get a number of men, with torches, all ready to help and save as many of the crew as possible?"
"Oh, yes, yes!" cried Helen; "fly, by all means, fly, and collect as many as possible. Pay them well, and promise a large reward for every life that is saved. Go quick, my good friend, go quick! I will return to the villa with the courier. I fear I can do no good here. Never mind me, Martin, but gather the people together, as fast as possible."
According to her orders, Harry Martin left her; and after remaining for about ten minutes more, Helen was turning to go back to her own dwelling, when one of the servants of the villa came up seeking for her in the darkness to tell her that some people had been sent over to Sorrento by Sir Morley Ernstein, who entertained some apprehensions regarding her safety. Scarcely had the man spoken, when the dim forms of two or three other persons were seen sauntering up the rocky road, and Helen, somewhat alarmed at what she heard, and not liking their appearance, hastened her steps. She passed another and another, without being able in the obscurity to discern their faces; and the sound of footfalls following, made her heart beat strangely. At length four men presented themselves, linked arm in arm, and at the same moment a loud whistle was heard from those behind. At that signal an immediate rush was made upon Helen, and those who were with her. The two men were knocked down in an instant; and Helen, caught up by arms which it was in vain to resist, was borne away, shrieking, and calling for help in vain.
"This way, Eccellenza, this way!" cried a voice, in Italian, while the speaker apparently ran on before; "round by this wall, and the back of the houses, or we shall be stopped. Once on the road to Vico, and we are safe. The house you bade us get, is that way--the other men will take care we are not pursued. Here, round to the right, sir."