She followed, and for about a hundred yards he led her on in silence; and then, turning round, he pressed a kiss upon her lips:--"Remember me, Lena," he said, "when I am dead. Ever, at this hour, whatever may happen to you, whatever changes may befall, think of Pharold for a few short minutes; and mark what I tell you, each time you think of him--whatever you may feel now;--you shall regret him more, till, on your dying day, you shall love Pharold as Pharold now loves you. Remember, Lena, remember, remember!" and, turning away, he left her with her bright eyes dropping fast unwonted tears.
Alas, alas! the constancy and resolution of youth, what frail things they are! and how fast the ephemeral feelings and purposes of the hour give place to others as frail and vain! When Lena turned away from Pharold, she had believed that for no boon on earth would she do aught that could offend him; but ere many minutes were over, she was listening to the persuasions of the old woman, that had led all those wrong who had confided in her, and was combating faintly and more faintly the arguments which age and cunning used to induce her to visit that night the place where her unhappy lover was confined. Lena listened and resisted, till she listened and yielded; and midnight found her standing with the old woman under the window of the strong room in Dimden Park.
In the mean while Pharold pursued his way to rejoin Colonel Manners; but there seemed to be some bitter feeling sitting heavy at his heart. The light and agile step had become slow; the quick, keen eyes were bent thoughtfully upon the ground; more than one sad sigh burst from his bosom; and the spirit and the heart seemed to mourn. It might be that Pharold perceived that he was not loved; it might be that he felt he had set the whole fortunes of his being upon a hazardous chance; but as we have not paused to trace his love, we shall not dwell long upon his disappointment. Other feelings, too, such as, more or less modified by circumstances, will cross the mind of every imaginative and sensitive man, now rushed upon him, rendered tenfold more strong in his case than in that of others, by the prejudices of his people, and the wild and varying habits of his race. Feelings of superstition, and vague, rambling, fanciful speculations upon all those indications of human destiny, gathered from external objects, in which his tribe believe, now mingled themselves with jealous doubts and apprehensions, and appealed to his own heart for belief or rejection in his own individual instance.
"I am coming to the crosses," he murmured, as he walked along--"I am coming to the crosses of life; and the end is not far off! I have seen those who obeyed me once, rise up against my will. I have been persecuted and hunted for faults not my own: I have been overcome by a creature like myself, with no odds against me; and I have learned to doubt those I love. Ah! and that she, too, should think of another! Woman, woman! Care, instruction, and kind reproof but offend thee! love and tenderness but spoil thee! Affection, and worth, and honour are to thee but as nothing! In danger thou clingest to us! In peace and security thou leavest us! The things which attract thee are the lightest of qualities and the vainest of transitory things; and with what cords shall we bind thee, even when once thou art caught? Vain, vain, empty butterfly! indifference and reckless carelessness are the things which win thee the most surely, and which most truly thou meritest."
Such were the first outpourings of a heart jealous of affection; but as Pharold walked on, the belief that Lena's love might be given to another was softened by reflection, and he began to think he had done her wrong. He remembered the tears he had seen in her eyes; he thought of many a testimony of girlish regard which she had displayed towards him: he called to mind many of the finer traits of her heart and mind which had first attracted him, and which he had striven to cultivate; and he again began to trust that she would not suffer one thought to stray from him who had become her husband. The feeling of that vast disparity of age which existed between them did, indeed, ever mingle with such hopes, and, as it had often done before, disturbed his peace of mind by apprehension and doubt. "She will be the sooner free," he thought bitterly: "she will be the sooner free! God only knows how soon! for I feel a weight upon me, and a gloom, as if fate were coming near to me, and its shadow rested dark upon my thoughts. She will be free, and wed another, and be happy, and forget me, till pain, and sorrow, and anxiety come, till she wants the hand that used to protect her, till she requires the mind that used to guide her, and then she may think of Pharold, and grieve to think that he is lying beneath the cold and crumbling mould of earth, whence neither prayers nor wishes shall bring him back to her side again. Then she may remember, and perhaps weep for him who is lost to her for ever."
With such sad and gloomy reflections Pharold amused the way, as, retreading the steps he had lately taken, he proceeded to fulfil his appointment with Colonel Manners. He was a man who gave, perhaps, as few thoughts to self and selfish considerations as most men. He was one of those who, in other circumstances and in other ages, would have as willingly devoted himself a sacrifice for his friend, or for his country, as any Greek or Roman that ever lived. But he was a gipsy, and born in an age when patriotism and friendship were equally considered as mercantile commodities; when men, having cast behind them the heroism of ancient Greece and Rome, and the chivalry of ancient France and England, were just beginning to dip themselves in a spirit of cold and selfish calculation, which, like the waters of the Carian fountain, emasculates all that is noble and energetic in human nature; and it is not possible to live among such times without feeling their chilling influence. Their influence, however, upon him was different from that which it had upon others; for his race, and state, and habits, all placed him without the circle of ordinary thoughts and sensations common to the rest of men. That he was moving among cold and selfish beings, he felt; that he was acting upon principles different from theirs, he could not but know; and he despised them because he did know it, hating them the more because he was one of a scorned and injured race, to which he clung with the greater tenacity because it was scorned and injured. But when he met with a spirit congenial to his own, when he found that he could love and could trust, all the deep, the noble, the generous feelings of his original nature burst through every band of times, and circumstances, and nation, and habit; and he was no longer the gipsy, the sullen hater of every race except his own, but a creature endowed with noble powers of mind, and gifted above all with that gem from heaven, an upright and enthusiastic heart, which would have honoured any land, or age, or people. The direction which it took might sometimes be wrong, the reasonings that guided it might wander upon wild, and prejudiced, and eccentric theories; but the principle was always good, and the purpose was always generous.
Thus, although he thought for some part of the way upon himself, and upon the cares and griefs that thronged around him, his mind soon turned to other objects; and the desire of serving and of soothing others was strong enough even to withdraw his thoughts from the powerful grasp of individual sorrows, always far more potent in their selfishness than joys.
As he approached the spot where his unsuccessful struggle had taken place with Colonel Manners, he felt, it is true, some sort of bitterness of heart, to think that he had been overcome. Vanity will have her share in all; and happy it is--ay, even more than we can expect--when she changes not the pain of her wound into hatred of those who have inflicted it. Manners was already on the spot, and the first words of the gipsy were those of human kindness. "How is she?" he asked, abruptly. "How is the young lady? You have seen--you have told her all is well, of course?"
"I have," answered Manners, "and her heart is greatly lighter, though she will remain still anxious and unsatisfied till I have with my own eyes seen her cousin, and can report to her the state of his health."
"Fear not, fear not," answered the gipsy; "I have promised to take you to him, and there is not that power under the heavens which should ever induce me to break my word, while I am capable of performing it."