A week had elapsed since Auriol Darcy was conveyed to the iron-merchant"s dwelling, after the attack made upon him by the ruffians in the ruined house; and though almost recovered from the serious injuries he had received, he still remained the guest of his preserver.
It was a bright spring morning, when a door leading to the yard in front of the house opened, and a young girl, bright and fresh as the morning"s self, issued from it.
A lovelier creature than Ebba Thorneycroft cannot be imagined. Her figure was perfection--slight, tall, and ravishingly proportioned, with a slender waist, little limbs, and fairy feet that would have made the fortune of an opera-dancer. Her features were almost angelic in expression, with an outline of the utmost delicacy and precision--not cold, cla.s.sical regularity--but that softer and incomparably more lovely mould peculiar to our own clime. Ebba"s countenance was a type of Saxon beauty. Her complexion was pure white, tinged with a slight bloom. Her eyes were of a serene summer blue, arched over by brows some shades darker than the radiant tresses that fell on either cheek, and were parted over a brow smoother than alabaster. Her attire was simple but tasteful, and by its dark colour threw into relief the exceeding fairness of her skin.
Ebba"s first care was to feed her favourite linnet, placed in a cage over the door. Having next patted the head of a huge bulldog who came out of his kennel to greet her, and exchanged a few words with two men employed at a forge in the inner part of the building on the right, she advanced farther into the yard.
This part of the premises, being strewn with ironwork of every possible shape, presented a very singular appearance, and may merit some description. There were heaps of rusty iron chains flung together like fishermen"s nets, old iron area-guards, iron kitchen-fenders, old grates, safes, piles of old iron bowls, a large a.s.sortment of old iron pans and dishes, a ditto of old ovens, kettles without number, sledge-hammers, anvils, braziers, chimney-cowls, and smoke-jacks.
Stout upright posts, supporting cross-beams on the top, were placed at intervals on either side of the yard, and these were decorated, in the most artistic style, with rat-traps, man-traps, iron lanterns, pulleys, padlocks, chains, trivets, triangles, iron rods, disused street lamps, dismounted cannon, and anchors. Attached to hooks in the cross-beam nearest the house hung a row of old horse-shoes, while from the centre depended a large rusty bell. Near the dog"s kennel was a tool-box, likewise garnished with horse-shoes, and containing pincers, files, hammers, and other implements proper to the smith. Beyond this was an open doorway leading to the workshop, where the two men before mentioned were busy at the forge.
Though it was still early, the road was astir with pa.s.sengers; and many waggons and carts, laden with hay, straw, and vegetables, were pa.s.sing.
Ebba, however, had been solely drawn forth by the beauty of the morning, and she stopped for a moment at the street gate, to breathe the balmy air. As she inhaled the gentle breeze, and felt the warm sunshine upon her cheek, her thoughts wandered away into the green meadows in which she had strayed as a child, and she longed to ramble amid them again.
Perhaps she scarcely desired a solitary stroll; but however this might be, she was too much engrossed by the reverie to notice a tall man, wrapped in a long black cloak, who regarded her with the most fixed attention, as he pa.s.sed on the opposite side of the road.
Proceeding to a short distance, this personage crossed over, and returned slowly towards the iron-merchant"s dwelling. Ebba then, for the first time, remarked him, and was startled by his strange, sinister appearance. His features were handsome, but so malignant and fierce in expression, that they inspired only aversion. A sardonic grin curled his thin lips, and his short, crisply curled hair, raven-black in hue, contrasted forcibly and disagreeably with his cadaverous complexion. An attraction like that of the snake seemed to reside in his dark blazing eyes, for Ebba trembled like a bird beneath their influence, and could not remove her gaze from them. A vague presentiment of coming ill smote her, and she dreaded lest the mysterious being before her might be connected in some inexplicable way with her future destiny.
On his part, the stranger was not insensible to the impression he had produced, and suddenly halting, he kept his eyes riveted on those of the girl, who, after remaining spell-bound, as it were, for a few moments, precipitately retreated towards the house.
Just as she reached the door, and was about to pa.s.s through it, Auriol came forth. He was pale, as if from recent suffering, and bore his left arm in a sling.
"You look agitated," he said, noticing Ebba"s uneasiness. "What has happened?"
"Not much," she replied, a deep blush mantling her cheeks. "But I have been somewhat alarmed by the person near the gate."
"Indeed!" cried Auriol, darting forward. "Where is he? I see no one."
"Not a tall man, wrapped in a long black cloak?" rejoined Ebba, following him cautiously.
"Ha!" cried Auriol. "Has he been here?"
"Then you know the person I allude to?" she rejoined.
"I know some one answering his description," he replied, with a forced smile.
"Once beheld, the man I mean is not to be forgotten," said Ebba. "He has a countenance such as I never saw before. If I could believe in the "evil eye," I should be sure he possessed it."
""Tis he, there can be no doubt," rejoined Auriol, in a sombre tone.
"Who and what is he, then?" demanded Ebba.
"He is a messenger of ill," replied Auriol, "and I am thankful he is gone."
[Ill.u.s.tration: The Iron-merchant"s Daughter.]
"Are you quite sure of it?" she asked, glancing timorously up and down the road. But the mysterious individual could no longer be seen.
"And so, after exciting my curiosity in this manner, you will not satisfy it?" she said.
"I cannot," rejoined Auriol, somewhat sternly.
"Nay, then, since you are so ungracious, I shall go and prepare breakfast," she replied. "My father must be down by this time."
"Stay!" cried Auriol, arresting her, as she was about to pa.s.s through the door. "I wish to have a word with you."
Ebba stopped, and the bloom suddenly forsook her cheeks.
But Auriol seemed unable to proceed. Neither dared to regard the other; and a profound silence prevailed between them for a few moments.
"Ebba," said Auriol at length, "I am about to leave your father"s house to-day."
"Why so soon?" she exclaimed, looking up into his face. "You are not entirely recovered yet."
"I dare not stay longer," he said.
"Dare not!" cried Ebba. And she again cast down her eyes; but Auriol made no reply.
Fortunately the silence was broken by the clinking of the smiths"
hammers upon the anvil.
"If you must really go," said Ebba, looking up, after a long pause, "I hope we shall see you again?"
"Most a.s.suredly," replied Auriol. "I owe your worthy father a deep debt of grat.i.tude--a debt which, I fear, I shall never be able to repay."
"My father is more than repaid in saving your life," she replied. "I am sure he will be sorry to learn you are going so soon."
"I have been here a week," said Auriol. "If I remained longer, I might not be able to go at all."
There was another pause, during which a stout old fellow in the workshop quitted the anvil for a moment, and, catching a glimpse of the young couple, muttered to his helpmate--
"I say, Ned, I"m a-thinkin" our master"ll soon have a son-in-law.
There"s pretty plain signs on it at yonder door."
"So there be, John," replied Ned, peeping round. "He"s a good-lookin"
young feller that. I wish ve could hear their discoorse."
"No, that ain"t fair," replied John, raking some small coal upon the fire, and working away at the bellows.
"I would not for the world ask a disagreeable question," said Ebba, again raising her eyes, "but since you are about to quit us, I must confess I should like to know something of your history."
"Forgive me if I decline to comply with your desire," replied Auriol.
"You would not believe me, were I to relate my history. But this I may say, that it is stranger and wilder than any you ever heard. The prisoner in his cell is not restrained by more terrible fetters than those which bind me to silence."
Ebba gazed at him as if she feared his reasoning were wandering.
"You think me mad," said Auriol; "would I were so! But I shall never lose the clear perception of my woes. Hear me, Ebba! Fate has brought me into this house. I have seen you, and experienced your gentle ministry; and it is impossible, so circ.u.mstanced, to be blind to your attractions. I have only been too sensible to them--but I will not dwell on that theme, nor run the risk of exciting a pa.s.sion which must destroy you. I will ask you to hate me--to regard me as a monster whom you ought to shun rather than as a being for whom you should entertain the slightest sympathy."
"You have some motive in saying this to me," cried the terrified girl.