Kate Vernon: A Tale. Vol. 1 (of 3) by Mrs. Alexander (inspirational novels .TXT) 📖

expression of his features completely changed (by the total eclipse of his eyes under green goggles) into one of preternatural gravity and pre-occupation, sitting bolt upright, and considerably in the middle of the carriage, leaving small space for Miss Vernon, and terribly embarrassed with the reins.

Our own was not much better; the cane work doing duty for panels broken in several places, and the brown horse leaning against the collar, and pulling with all his might. How Burton would have laughed at the whole concern; yet never did I enjoy a pic nic so much.

The road leading through a fine rich, though rather flat country, its chief ornament an abundance of splendid timber, at one place crossed a marshy common, where, the Organist informed me, the Royalists had been routed, in the civil wars. Many a sally from Kate, upholding the superiority of their steed to ours, enlivened our journey, while Winter's attention[Pg 190] was a good deal engrossed by a tendency of the reins to get under Cyclops' tail.

Our progress was not rapid, but at length we reached our destination. Mowbray Castle stands close to the modern house of the Earl of——; they were generally absentees, and kindly permitted the vulgar public to enjoy the beauties they did not value; a civil gate keeper admitted us into an unpretending avenue, and shouted a warning after us, that one side of the ruins was unsafe, but which no one seemed to heed. Winter said that was a matter of course hint, given to every visitor, and that he would undertake to guide us.

We entered a quadrangular court yard, bare and blazing with sunshine, where we left the carriages, and I secured Miss Vernon as my companion, while Winter gave some directions to Tom, as to the arrangements of dinner, all agreeing to leave the selection of our banqueting hall to him.

[Pg 191]

"Push open this gate for me, Captain Egerton," said Kate, after a vain attempt to move a pair of heavy wooden doors to the left. I obeyed, and we stepped at once from the glare of the paved court yard into the cool shade of grand old trees, feathering to the ground, with gleams of sunshine breaking through upon the rich soft mossy turf beneath. A broad straight gravelled walk led up a steep hill before us, under a perfect arch of luxuriant foliage, the modern house lying a little distance to the left.

Here we were joined by Winter, who had discarded the green specs, his hat in one hand and a handkerchief in the other. Reaching the hill, and emerging from the shade of the trees, we found ourselves upon the edge of what was formerly the moat of the Castle, now a gravel walk, with steeply sloping grassy sides, studded with evergreens and flowering shrubs. Beyond, the ruins rose majestic in their decay, and crowning the sudden hill we had partially ascended, a narrow stone arch, allowing of one[Pg 192] passenger only at a time, was here thrown over the moat; the ivy and other creepers hanging from it in graceful streamers and festoons. It had no parapet or rail. Kate walked over it fearlessly and at once, but Mrs. Winter hesitated, and accepted my hand to lead her across. A good deal of climbing ensued up and down dilapidated spiral staircases, and among yawning chasms, leading to torture chambers and oubliettes as Miss Vernon suggested. Some of the views from the elevated position on which we stood, over the rich flat country with its winding river, and the distant towers of A—— were fine; but I agreed with Kate in preferring the opposite side of the Castle, where the hill was more precipitous, and you looked down into a sea of foliage, with an undulating ferny deer park beyond, and a background of blue mountains in the distance. Winter was already arranging his drawing materials in front of a round tower, with an arched door half hidden by a graceful ash tree.

After looking at his preparations, "I should[Pg 193] like a sketch of the Castle as we first came upon it, a little to the right, to take in that pretty bridge; what subject are you going to select, Captain Egerton?" asked Kate.

"If you will show me the spot you speak of, I will endeavour to carry out your idea."

"That is delightful! follow me."

I saw in a moment she had selected an admirable point of view, and I was soon hard at work, Miss Vernon bending over my drawing, offering suggestions as I proceeded, now leaning back against the d�bris of an old tower, cutting my pencils and telling me legends of the Castle; now wandering away with Gilpin to inspect Winter's sketch, and returning with a report of his progress to stimulate my energies, while Mrs. Winter and the Colonel seated themselves on a rustic bench, occupying an elevated position in what was once the Keep, from which the rival sketchers were both visible, and the latter producing a newspaper from his pocket, sometimes holding his glasses to his eyes, sometimes tapping them[Pg 194] on the paper, seemed to read aloud for his companion's amusement. A couple of hours glided pleasantly away, and Kate was congratulating me on my faithful delineation of the ruins, when we perceived Winter join his wife and the Colonel. He waved his straw hat, and making a speaking trumpet of a roll of paper, shouted "Dinner!" very audibly.

"In a minute," said Miss Vernon, forgetting he could not hear her, "just finish that bit of shading, Captain Egerton; Mr. Gilpin and I will put up all your things."

"Are you coming?" shouted Winter once more.

I put my portfolio under my arm, shouldered my camp stool, and we soon joined the impatient and hungry artist, who led the way to a well-chosen site for dinner. A bastion to the east of the Castle, commanding a totally different view both north and south, which the remains of a grey watch tower at one angle served to divide into two distinct pictures. Close under it our[Pg 195] banquet was spread; some moss-grown stones and our camp stools supplying us with seats; gaily and laughingly we attacked the viands. Winter presided, eating and talking with great energy, seated on a high stone, which compelled him to keep his feet on tiptoe to prevent his well-filled plate from gliding off his knees; kneeling down every now and then to dive into the interior of a partridge pie, his own contribution to the feast.

"I must trouble you again, Winter," said the Colonel; "no paste thank you, but Teniers himself never gave a better interior."

"I made it myself, Colonel," said Mrs. Winter, triumphantly.

"My dear Madam, fair hands make fair work."

"Bel parlare poco costa," ejaculated Winter.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself to say such things in an unknown tongue," said Miss Vernon.

"What was it, my dear?" enquired his wife; "indeed, John, those wicked words are very sinful."

[Pg 196]

"Ha, ha, Miss Vernon, you are a mischievous little witch! Ah, Sue, you've an old reprobate of a husband."

"Let us fill a bumper to the memory of those glorious old Normans, who left us so charming a banqueting hall," said I.

"You do not express yourself properly; let us 'drain a cup' is more appropriate," interrupted Miss Vernon.

"A set of unmitigated robbers without a spark of humanity," said the Artist.

"You must admit they were often splendidly generous," interposed Miss Vernon.

"Ay, by fits and starts."

"As much as could be expected from ignorant uncivilised warriors," said I; "they were rude and cruel enough, so were all nations at the time; while few possessed their generosity, energy, and abstemiousness; they were a race of gentlemen!"

"Yes, abstemiousness has always continued to be a characteristic of their gentlemanlike descendants," sneered Winter.

[Pg 197]

"Quite as much as of the all imbibing Saxons. I like the Normans," replied Kate.

"Was it not here, Miss Vernon, that Geraldine Mowbray mounted guard with her waiting woman, to give the Warders time for repose?" enquired Gilpin.

"Yes, it was during an insurrection of the Saxon serfs, and was not unlike the Lady Evelyn Berenger's watch in 'The Betrothed.' She had a brave heart."

"It is wonderful what heroic acts women were capable of in those days," observed the Colonel.

"It was the peculiar position they were placed in called forth faculties which still exist, ready to spring into action whenever there is a call for self devotion," said I.

"Which are exercised every day, and a thousand times more painfully, in silent unregarded sacrifices," observed the Organist.

"And a thousand times more gloriously," said Miss Vernon. "It was, I am sure, comparatively easy to act heroically, when the tone of every[Pg 198] thing round you was heroic; applauded and worshipped by noble and gallant knights; celebrated by minstrels through all the world of chivalry. I have not much courage to boast of, but I think I could mount guard on an emergency, and under those circumstances. Ah! dare I say I have that loftier courage that would enable me to bear up under trials, the depth of which, my own heart alone knew!"

She stopped suddenly, blushing, as if ashamed of her own enthusiasm.

"My dear Kate, what makes you think such dreadful things?" whined Mrs. Winter.

"Why, Miss Vernon, you are in a moralising vein," cried her mate.

"I have no doubt, Kate, you would lead a forlorn hope gallantly," said her grandfather.

"Take me as your Lieutenant, Miss Vernon, and trust me I'll support my chief."

"When the occasion comes, you'll find strength," said Gilpin.

"Basta! in nome di Dio, leave off moral[Pg 199]ising, and give us a song." The Organist and Kate sang a duet, and even Winter joined in a catch; their notes floated sweetly on the air, and woke up the echoes of the deserted castle. Tom gathered up the fragments of the feast, and Mr. Winter hinted it was time for us to start for the farm.

We all accordingly rose, and Gilpin, who was a little of a botanist, climbed to get some wild plant that caught his eye, a little way up the remnant of a watchtower I have already mentioned. "I wonder," said Kate, "if this is the dangerous part of the ruins; I think that wall looks tottering;" and she remained standing beside me, watching the Organist. As she spoke, I fancied I heard something fall among the thick leafy boughs at the other side; then one of the stones by which Gilpin had ascended rolled slowly away. "Christo benedetto!" shouted Winter, "down, down all of you, it will fall." They rushed rapidly away; Kate paused for an instant to say, "poor Mr. Gilpin, help him, he[Pg 200] is lame." I immediately flew to assist his descent, and almost lifted him to the ground; he turned quickly to the right, down a broken flight of steps, and I was following him, when there was a crash, a blinding dust, a scream of dismay from the lookers on; I felt a heavy blow, a sense of acute pain, and then all was darkness.

[Pg 201]

CHAPTER VIII.
CONVALESCENCE.

I will not dwell on the wearisome details of a sick room; my escape from death was almost miraculous, still the injuries I received were dangerous, and my recovery retarded by the fever consequent on my slow and painful transit from the scene of the accident to Winter's house, where he insisted on establishing me, on the plea that he was partly the cause of my sufferings. Here all that kindness and skill could accom[Pg 202]plish, was done to alleviate them; poor Gilpin watching over me with the affection of a brother, and the tenderness of woman. Mrs. O'Toole, too, seemed a fixture by my bedside, and when in the delirium of fever, no voice had so much influence over me, I was told, as the rich tones of her mellifluous brogue.

Burton and Colonel Dashwood came over from Carrington, on receiving despatches announcing the accident, and the former finding me in such good hands, gave up his intention of remaining with me. Notwithstanding all the care and watchfulness expended on me, October was well nigh past before the spectacled, shovel-hatted Galen of A—— pronounced a visit to the drawing room feasible; and my utter exhaustion, when the transit from my room was effected, proved the correctness of his judgment.

There I lay stretched on the sofa, strength and energy alike vanished, finding a sufficient exercise for all my faculties, in watching the twinkling of Mrs. Winter's knitting needles, and[Pg 203] enjoying a delicious languor, partly the result of weakness, partly of freedom from pain. Where was the resolution with which I was to disentangle my affairs, rouse my brother to a sense of duty, and