[[88]] It is supposed that these passages extend to the sea-shore, a distance of about a quarter of a mile.
CHAPTER XXIII.
ZULMIERA, THE HALF-CARIB GIRL.
A Legend of the Savannah.
The sun was rapidly sinking in the west, but its declining beams only threw upon every object a richer tone of colour, as a party, consisting of three persons, emerged from a small shrubbery, and halted upon the brow of a shelving hill.
The foremost of the party was a man who probably verged upon the mellow age of fifty; but his eagle-eye, and stalwart frame, told that his years sat light upon him. He was what would have been termed a handsome man; but a supercilious curl of his upper lip, and an expression of scornful indifference, which, though apparently suppressed, lingered in his dark hazel eye, added to a brow furrowed by deep lines, and compressed by slumbering passions, which only waited the spur of the moment to be called into action, detracted from the otherwise agreeable character of his features, and effectually forbid any approach to familiarity. A deep and unsightly scar, the effects of a sabre-cut, which, commencing from the right ear, traversed the jaw, injured yet further his good looks. He was habited in a complete suit of black velvet, of the richest texture; the sombreness of which was in some measure relieved by diamond clasps, and small knee-buckles of the same costly stones. A small collar of the finest lawn made its appearance above the doublet; and a black-sheathed “Andrèa Ferrara,” with basket hilt, dangling from his side, and calf-skin boots, completed his costume. This dress, fitting tight to his shape, shewed to advantage the large but perfect symmetry of his person; while the dark brown hair, sprinkled here and there with the grey badge of declining years, cropt close around his temples; and the steeple-crowned hat peculiar to his sect and times, bespoke him, what he was, the friend of Cromwell—the roundhead governor of Antigua.
The next person that gained the open ground was Bridget, the beautiful daughter of the governor. If ever there was a personification of extreme loveliness, it was known in Bridget. Scarcely seventeen, her slight but rounded figure, and her sweet, mild face, while it struck the beholder with admiration, and riveted his attention, gave the idea of some embodied sylph. Her complexion was of that ethereal tint of which the poet says—
“Oh, call it fair, not pale.”
The lily could scarcely outvie it in purity of colour, although every emanation of her guileless heart called up the latent rose-tint into her delicate cheek; while the small, pouting lip, with all the rich glow of the coral, forbid effectually the supposition of ill health. A slightly aquiline nose, a classically-formed and dimpled chin, with a fair and open forehead, in which every azure vein could be traced, were the prominent features; blended with that mingled sweetness, that feminine grace, and that inexpressible something, which really and actually constitutes beauty. But her eyes—those soft, lovely eyes—look at them, as she raises the long lashes, and you can fancy, that were her features devoid of any pretensions to comeliness, those liquid orbs would richly compensate for all. Of the clearest hazel, every glance that fell from them spoke the inmost feelings of her soul; and whether they beamed forth in pity, or flashed with animation, they equally bespoke the benevolence of her nature.
Puritan as her father was, he did not deny his daughter, any more than himself, the use of a few ornaments; and a bandeau of pearls fastened around her graceful head vainly endeavoured to restrain the abundant tresses of her soft, glossy, brown hair, which, breaking loose, floated upon her shoulders in natural ringlets. Her dress of dove-coloured satin flowed in rich and ample folds to her feet, from whence the little slipper peeped forth; and, gathered around her slender waist by a girdle of pearls, shewed the admirable proportions of her figure. The stiff puritan ruff of lawn, in which every plait could be counted, screened her neck; but around her small white throat was fastened a carcanet of her favourite gems, not purer in tint than her own fair skin. A wimple of the same colour as her dress, and lined with pale rose tiffany, was tied under her little rounded chin, but which, in the joyousness of her nature, she had unfastened, that she might more fully enjoy the beauties of the evening.