Emmeline is a Webnovel created by Charlotte Turner Smith.
This lightnovel is currently completed.
He did this merely from the impulse of his natural gallantry and good nature. What were his transports, when he found that the fugitive whom he had undesignedly alarmed by asking a direction to St. Alpin, was his adored Emmeline; and that the lovely object whose idea, since their first meeting, had never a moment been absent from it, he now pressed to his throbbing heart? Instantly terrified, however, to find her speechless and almost insensible, he ordered the servant who followed him to run back for some water; and seating her gently on the ground, he threw himself down by her and supported her; while Madelon, wringing her hands called on her _aimable_, her _belle maitresse_; and was too much frightened to give her any a.s.sistance.
Before the man returned with the water, her recollection was restored, and she said, faintly–‘Mr. G.o.dolphin! Is it possible?’
‘Loveliest Miss Mowbray, how thoughtlessly have I alarmed you!–Can you forgive me?’
‘Ah!’ cried she, disengaging herself from his support–‘how came you here, and from whence?’
G.o.dolphin, without considering, and almost without knowing what he said, replied–‘I come from Lord Delamere.’
‘From Lord Delamere!’ exclaimed she, in amazement. ‘Is he not in London then?–is he not married?’
‘No; I overtook him at Besancon; where he lies ill–very ill!’
‘Ill!’ repeated Emmeline.–‘Ill, and at Besancon!–merciful heaven!’
She now again relapsed almost into insensibility: for at the mention of G.o.dolphin’s having overtaken him, and having left him ill, a thousand terrific and frightful images crouded into her mind; but the predominant idea was, that it was on her account they had met, and that Delamere’s illness was a wound in consequence of that meeting.
That such an imagination should possess her, G.o.dolphin had no means of knowing. He therefore very naturally concluded that the violent sorrow which she expressed, on hearing of Delamere’s illness, arose from her love towards him; and, in such a conclusion, he found the ruin of those hopes he had of late fondly cherished.
‘Happy, happy Delamere!’ said he, sighing to himself.–‘Her first affections were his, and never will any secondary tenderness supersede that early impression. Alas! his rejection of her, has not been able to efface it–For me, there is nothing to hope! and while I thus hold her to my heart, I have lost her for ever! I came not hither, however, solely on my own account, but rather to save from pain, her and those she loves. ‘Tis not then of myself I am to think.’
While these reflections pa.s.sed thro’ his mind, he remained silent; and Emmeline concluded that his silence was owing to the truth of her conjecture. The grief of Lady Westhaven for her brother, the despair of Lord Montreville for his son, presented themselves to her mind; and the contemptuous return of her promise, which a few hours before she thought of with resentment, was now forgotten in regret for his illness and pity for his sufferings.
‘Ah!’ cried she, trying to rise, ‘what shall I say to Lady Westhaven?–How disclose to her such intelligence as this?’
‘It was to prevent her hearing it abruptly,’ said G.o.dolphin, ‘that I came myself, rather than sent by a messenger or a letter, such distressing information.’
So strongly had the idea of a duel between them taken possession of the mind of Emmeline, that she had no courage to ask particulars of his illness; and shuddering with horror at the supposition that the hand G.o.dolphin held out to a.s.sist her was stained with the blood of the unfortunate Delamere, she drew her’s hastily and almost involuntarily from him; and taking again Madelon’s arm, attempted to hasten towards home.
But the scene of anguish and terror which she must there encounter with Lady Westhaven, the distress and vexation of her Lord, and the misery of believing that G.o.dolphin had made himself for ever hateful to all her own family, and that if her cousin died she could never again behold him but with regret and anguish, were altogether reflections so overwhelming, and so much more than her harra.s.sed spirits were able to sustain, that after tottering about fifty yards, she was compelled to stop, and gasping for breath, to accept the offered a.s.sistance of G.o.dolphin. Strongly prepossessed with the idea of her affection for Delamere, he languidly and mournfully lent it. He had no longer courage to speak to her; yet wished to take measures for preventing Lady Westhaven’s being suddenly alarmed by his appearance; and he feared, that not his appearance only, but his countenance, would tell her that he came not thither to impart tidings of happiness.
It was now quite dark; and the slow pace in which only Emmeline could walk, had not yet carried them through the wood. The agitation of Emmeline encreased: she wished, yet dreaded to know the particulars of Delamere’s situation; and unable to summons courage to enquire into it, she proceeded mournfully along, almost borne by G.o.dolphin and Madelon; who understanding nothing of what had been said, and not knowing who the gentleman was who had thus frightened her mistress, was herself almost as much in dismay.
After a long pause, Emmeline, in faultering accents, asked ‘if the situation of Lord Delamere was absolutely desperate?’
‘I hope and believe not,’ said G.o.dolphin. ‘When I left him, at least, there were hopes of a favourable issue.’
‘Ah! wherefore did you leave him? Why not stay at least to see the event?’
‘Because he so earnestly desired that his sister might know of his situation, and that I only might acquaint her with it and press her to go to him.’
‘She will need no entreaties. Poor, poor Delamere!’–sighing deeply, Emmeline again became silent.
They were to mount a small hill, which was between the wood they had left and the grounds immediately surrounding St. Alpin, which was extremely steep and rugged. Before she reached the top, she was quite exhausted.
‘I believe,’ said she, ‘I must again rest before I can proceed.’
She sat down on a bank formed by the roots of the trees which sustained the earth, on the edge of the narrow path.
G.o.dolphin, excessively alarmed at her weakness and dejection, which he still attributed to the anguish she felt for Delamere, sat by her, hardly daring to breathe himself, while he listened to her short respiration, and fancied he heard the violent palpitation of her heart.
‘And how long do you think,’ said she, again recurring to Delamere–‘how long may he linger before the event will be known?’
‘I really hope, and I think I am not too sanguine, that the fever will have left him before we see him again.’
‘The fever!’ repeated Emmeline–‘has he a fever then?’
‘Yes,’ replied G.o.dolphin–‘I thought I told you that a fever was his complaint. But had you not better, my dear Madam, think a little of yourself! Ill as you appear to be, I see not how you are to get home unless you will suffer me to go on and procure some kind of conveyance for you.’
‘I shall do very well,’ answered she, ‘as I am, if you will only tell me about Lord Delamere. He has only a fever?’
‘And is it not enough,’ said G.o.dolphin. ‘Tho’, were I Lord Delamere, I should think an illness that called forth in my favour the charming sensibility of Miss Mowbray, the happiest event of my life.’
Having said this, he fell into a profound silence. The certainty of her affection for Delamere, deprived him of all spirits when he most wanted to exert them. Yet it was necessary to take some measures for introducing himself at St. Alpin without alarming Lady Westhaven, and to consider how he was to account to his brother for Delamere’s estrangement from Emmeline; and while he canva.s.sed these and many other perplexities, Emmeline, who was relieved from the most distressing of her apprehensions, and dared not for the world reveal what those apprehensions had been, in some degree recovered herself; and growing anxious for Lady Westhaven, said she believed she could now walk home.
As she was about to arise with an intention to attempt it, they heard the sound of approaching voices, and almost immediately lights appeared above the hill, while ‘Mademoiselle!–Miss Mowbray!–Madelon!–Madelon!’
was frequently and loudly repeated by the persons who carried them.
‘The Baron and Lord Westhaven,’ said Emmeline, ‘alarmed at my being out so late, have sent persons in search of me.’
Her conjecture was right. In a moment the Chevalier, with a flambeau in his hand, was before them; who, when he found Emmeline sitting in such a place, supported by a young man whom he had never before seen, was at once amazed and displeased. There was no time for explanation. Lord Westhaven immediately followed him; and after stopping a moment to consider whether the figure of G.o.dolphin which rose before him was not an illusion, he flew eagerly into his arms.
The manly eyes of both the brothers were filled with tears. Lord Westhaven had not seen G.o.dolphin for four years; and, since their last parting, they had lost their father. After a short pause, his Lordship introduced G.o.dolphin to Bellozane; and then taking the cold and trembling hand of Emmeline, who leaned languidly on Madelon, he said–
‘And you, my lovely cousin, for whose safety we have been above an hour in the cruellest alarm, where did you find William, and by what extraordinary chance are ye here together?’
Emmeline with great difficulty found voice enough to explain their accidental meeting. And Bellozane observing her apparent faintness, said–‘you seem, Mademoiselle, to be extremely fatigued. Pray allow me the honour of giving you my arm.’
‘If you please,’ said she, in a low voice. And supposing that G.o.dolphin would be glad to have some conversation with his brother, she accepted his a.s.sistance and proceeded.
This preference, however, of Bellozane, G.o.dolphin imputed to her coldness or dislike towards himself; and so struck was he with the cruel idea, that it was not without an effort he recollected himself enough to relate to his brother, as they walked, all that it was necessary for him to know. Lord Westhaven, anxious for a life so precious to his wife and her family as was that of Lord Delamere, determined immediately to go to him. At present it was necessary to reveal as tenderly as possible his situation to his sister, Lady Westhaven; and first to dissipate the uneasiness she had suffered from the long absence of Emmeline.
[Footnote 36: Stay, stay a moment, ladies! Have the goodness to tell me whether you belong to the family of the Baron de St. Alpin?]
CHAPTER IV
Lord Westhaven first entered the room where his wife was, whose alarming apprehensions at Emmeline’s long stay were by this time extreme.
‘Our Emmeline is returned, my love,’ said he, ‘and has met with no accident.’
Lady Westhaven eagerly embracing her, reproached her tenderly for her long absence. But then observing how pale she looked, and the fatigue and oppression she seemed to suffer, her Ladyship said–
‘Surely you have been frightened–or you are ill? You look so faint!’