But woe was quickly to succeed to this forced merriment; for, shortly after the bride and bridegroom had been escorted to their chamber, wild shrieks were heard, and the chaplain, Bide-the-Bent, rushed into the presence of the alarmed guests with a fearful story on his lips. Lucy Ashton, tortured and racked with the anxiety and sorrow of the last few weeks, and utterly stunned and prostrated by the final shock of Edgar's return and passionate reproaches, had lost her reason; and in a paroxysm of frenzy, she had slain her newly-made husband.
Overwhelmed with horror, Henry Ashton and his guests hurried to the scene of this awful tragedy; but though they endeavoured to calm and restore the distraught girl, their efforts were in vain, and Lucy, worn out in body as well as in mind, died a few hours later.
Bide-the-Bent and some other retainers of the family, quickly brought the sad news to Edgar of Ravenswood, who, unable to rest, was passing the night in wretchedness amidst the tombs of his ancestors in a wild and craggy spot; and when the unhappy lover thus heard of his beloved one's tragic death, and understood that he had wronged her, since she had been cruelly deceived, his woe was so great that, determined not to live without her, he stabbed himself to the heart, and fell dead at the feet of the horrified attendants.
THE DAUGHTER OF THE REGIMENT
(La Figlia del Reggimento)
During the occupation of the Swiss Tyrol by the French, the soldiers of the Eleventh Regiment of the Grand Army of Napoleon had many special opportunities for distinguishing themselves; and, having one day, after a short period of rest, once again received orders to march against the enemy, the news was hailed with joy, and the camp was soon full of the bustle of departure.
But this particular day was destined to bring forth much trouble to the Eleventh Regiment, and to mark an event which caused deep disturbance in their happy camp life; and all this woe arose from their chance meeting with a party of travellers early in the morning.
It happened that a rich lady, the Marchioness of Berkenfeld, was driving through the Tyrol on a return journey to her château; and on passing the camp of the Eleventh Regiment, she was filled with dismay when her carriage was suddenly stopped by the soldiers. Her fears, however, were soon set at rest by the Sergeant in charge, an elderly man named Sulpizio, who, on learning her name and destination, politely declared that no harm was intended her; and on being invited to rest awhile in the camp, she very gladly alighted from her carriage, and retired to the tent indicated.
As the Marchioness retired, the soldiers raised a loud shout of welcome at the appearance of a pretty young girl, dressed in the garments of a vivandière, whom they all greeted eagerly as their beloved Marie, the Daughter of the Regiment; and as the maiden tripped merrily amidst the men, Sulpizio sighed deeply, for the unexpected coming of the Marchioness of Berkenfeld now reminded him of a certain duty in connection with this fair child.
The story of Marie's life was a strange one. When quite an infant, she had been discovered by Sergeant Sulpizio on the battlefield; and since no one came to lay claim to her, the Regiment had unanimously decided that she should be adopted by them, and brought up in their camp. She was given the name of Marie; and as the years went on, she quickly won the hearts of all by her winning ways, so that she was tenderly cherished by her numerous adopted fathers, and entitled by them the Daughter of the Regiment.