"And how did Mrs. Jarvis and Sir Timo"s lady relish the news?" inquired John, expecting something ridiculous.
"Not at all," rejoined Mr. Haughton; "the former sobbed, and said she had only married him for his bravery and red coat, and the _lady_ exclaimed against the destruction of his budding honors."
"How did it terminate?" asked Mrs. Wilson.
"Why, it seems while they were quarrelling about it, the War-Office cut the matter short by accepting his resignation, I suppose the commander-in-chief had learned his character; but the matter was warmly contested: they even drove the captain to a declaration of his principles."
"And what kind of ones might they have been, Haughton?" said Sir Edward, drily.
"Republican."
"Republican!" exclaimed two or three in surprise.
"Yes, liberty and equality, he contended, were his idols, and he could not find it in his heart to fight against Bonaparte."
"A somewhat singular conclusion," said Mr. Benfield, musing. "I remember when I sat in the House, there was a party who were fond of the cry of this said liberty; but when they got the power they did not seem to me to suffer people to go more at large than they went before; but I suppose they were diffident of telling the world their minds after they were put in such responsible stations, for fear of the effect of example."
"Most people like liberty as servants but not as masters, uncle," cried John, with a sneer.
"Captain Jarvis, it seems, liked it as a preservative against danger,"
continued Mr. Haughton; "to avoid ridicule in his new neighborhood, he has consented to his father"s wishes, and turned merchant in the city again."
"Where I sincerely hope he will remain," cried John, who since the accident of the arbor, could not tolerate the unfortunate youth.
"Amen!" said Emily, in an under tone, heard only by her brother.
"But Sir Timo--what has become of Sir Timo--the good, honest merchant?"
asked John.
"He has dropt the t.i.tle, insists on being called plain Mr. Jarvis, and lives entirely in Cornwall. His hopeful son-in-law has gone with his regiment to Flanders; and Lady Egerton, being unable to live without her father"s a.s.sistance, is obliged to hide her consequence in the west also."
The subject became now disagreeable to Lady Moseley, and it was changed.
Such conversations made Jane more reserved and dissatisfied than ever. She had no one respectable excuse to offer for her partiality to her former lover, and when her conscience told her the mortifying fact, was apt to think that others remembered it too.
The letters from the continent now teemed with preparations for the approaching contest; and the apprehensions of our heroine and her friends increased, in proportion to the nearness of the struggle, on which hung not only the fates of thousands of individuals, but of adverse princes and mighty empires. In this confusion of interests, and of jarring of pa.s.sions, there were offered prayers almost hourly for the safety of Pendennyss, which were as pure and ardent as the love which prompted them.
Chapter XLVIII.
Napoleon had commenced those daring and rapid movements, which for a time threw the peace of the world into the scale of fortune, and which nothing but the interposition of a ruling Providence could avert from their threatened success. As the the ----th dragoons wheeled into a field already deluged with English blood, on the heights of Quatre Bras, the eye of its gallant colonel saw a friendly battalion falling beneath the sabres of the enemy"s cuira.s.siers. The word was pa.s.sed, the column opens, the sounds of the quivering bugle were heard for a moment above the roar of the cannon and the shouts of the combatants; the charge, sweeping like a whirlwind, fell heavily on those treacherous Frenchmen, who to-day had sworn fidelity to Louis, and to-morrow intended lifting their hands in allegiance to his rival.
"Spare my life in mercy," cried an officer, already dreadfully wounded, who stood shrinking from the impending blow of an enraged Frenchman. An English dragoon dashed at the cuira.s.sier, and with one blow severed his arm from his body.
"Thank G.o.d," sighed the wounded officer, sinking beneath the horse"s feet.
His rescuer threw himself from the saddle, and raising the fallen man inquired into his wounds. It was Pendennyss, and it was Egerton. The wounded man groaned aloud, as he saw the face of him who had averted the fatal blow; but it was not the hour for explanations or confessions, other than those with which the dying soldiers endeavored to make their tardy peace with their G.o.d.
Sir Henry was given in charge to two slightly wounded British soldiers, and the earl remounted: the scattered troops were rallied at the sound of the trumpet, and again and again, led by their dauntless colonel, were seen in the thickest of the fray, with sabres drenched in blood, and voices hoa.r.s.e with the shouts of victory.
The period between the battles of Quatre Bras and Waterloo was a trying one to the discipline and courage of the British army. The discomfited Prussians on their flank had been routed and compelled to retire, and in their front was an enemy, brave, skilful, and victorious, led by the greatest captain of the age. The prudent commander of the English forces fell back with dignity and reluctance to the field of Waterloo; here the mighty struggle was to terminate, and the eye of every experienced soldier looked on those eminences as on the future graves for thousands.
During this solemn interval of comparative inactivity the mind of Pendennyss dwelt on the affection, the innocence, the beauty and worth of his Emily, until the curdling blood, as he thought on her lot should his life be the purchase of the coming victory, warned him to quit the gloomy subject, for the consolations of that religion which only could yield him the solace his wounded feelings required. In his former campaigns the earl had been sensible of the mighty changes of death, and had ever kept in view the preparations necessary to meet it with hope and joy; but the world clung around him now, in the best affections of his nature, and it was only as he could picture the happy reunion with his Emily in a future life, that he could look on a separation in this without despair.
The vicinity of the enemy admitted of no relaxation in the strictest watchfulness in the British lines: and the comfortless night of the seventeenth was pa.s.sed by the earl, and his Lieutenant Colonel, George Denbigh, on the same cloak, and under the open canopy of Heaven.
As the opening cannon of the enemy gave the signal for the commencing conflict, Pendennyss mounted his charger with a last thought on his distant wife. With a mighty struggle he tore her as it were from his bosom, and gave the remainder of the day to duty.
Who has not heard of the events of that fearful hour, on which the fate of Europe hung as it were suspended in the scale? On one side supported by the efforts of desperate resolution, guided by the most consummate art; and on the other defended by a discipline and enduring courage almost without a parallel.
The indefatigable Blucher arrived, and the star of Napoleon sank.
Pendennyss threw himself from his horse, on the night of the eighteenth of June, as he gave way by orders, in the pursuit, to the fresher battalions of the Prussians, with the languor that fellows unusual excitement, and mental thanksgivings that this b.l.o.o.d.y work was at length ended. The image of his Emily again broke over the sterner feelings of the battle, like the first glimmerings of light which succeed the awful darkness of the eclipse of the sun: and he again breathed freely, in the consciousness of the happiness which would await his speedy return.
"I am sent for the colonel of the ----th dragoons," said a courier in broken English to a soldier, near where the earl lay on the ground, waiting the preparations of his attendants "have I found the right regiment, my friend?"
"To be sure you have," answered the man, without looking up from his toil on his favorite animal, "you might have tracked us by the dead Frenchmen, I should think. So you want my lord, my lad, do you? do we move again to-night?" suspending his labor for a moment in expectation of a reply.
"Not to my knowledge," rejoined the courier; "my message is to your colonel, from a dying man. Will you point out his station?"
The soldier complied, the message was soon delivered, and Pendennyss prepared to obey its summons immediately. Preceded by the messenger as a guide, and followed by Harmer, the earl retraced his steps over that ground on which he had but a few hours before been engaged in the deadly strife of man to man, hand to hand.
How different is the contemplation of a field of battle during and after the conflict! The excitement, suspended success, shouts, uproar, and confusion of the former, prevent any contemplation of the nicer parts of this confused ma.s.s of movements, charges, and retreats; or if a brilliant advance is made, a masterly retreat effected, the imagination is chained by the splendor and glory of the act, without resting for a moment on the sacrifice of individual happiness with which it is purchased. A battle-ground from which the whirlwind of the combat has pa.s.sed, presents a different sight; it offers the very consummation of human misery.
There may occasionally be an individual, who from station, distempered mind, or the encouragement of chimerical ideas of glory, quits the theatre of life with at least the appearance of pleasure in his triumphs. If such there be in reality, if this rapture of departing glory be anything more than the deception of a distempered excitement, the subject of its exhibition is to be greatly pitied. To the Christian, dying in peace with both G.o.d and man, can it alone be ceded in the eye of reason, to pour out his existence with a smile on his quivering lip.
And the warrior, who falls in the very arms of victory, after pa.s.sing a life devoted to the world; even, if he sees kingdoms hang suspended on his success, may smile indeed, may utter sentiments full of loyalty and zeal, may be the admiration of the world, and what is his reward? a deathless name, and an existence of misery, which knows no termination.
Christianity alone can make us good soldiers in any cause, for he who knows how to live, is always the least afraid to die.
Pendennyss and his companions pushed their way over the ground occupied before the battle by the enemy; descended into and through that little valley, in which yet lay, in undistinguished confusion, ma.s.ses of the dead and dying of either side; and again over the ridge, on which could be marked the situation of those gallant squares which had so long resisted the efforts of the horse and artillery by the groups of bodies, fallen where they had bravely stood, until even the callous Harmer sickened with the sight of a waste of life that he had but a few hours before exultingly contributed to increase.
Appeals to their feelings as they rode through the field had been frequent, and their progress was much r.e.t.a.r.ded by attempts to contribute to the ease of a wounded or a dying man; but as the courier constantly urged speed, as the only means of securing the object of their ride, these halts were reluctantly abandoned.
It was ten o"clock before they reached the farm-house, where, in the midst of hundreds of his countrymen, lay the former lover of Jane.
As the subject of his confession must be antic.i.p.ated by the reader, we will give a short relation of his life, and of those acts which more materially affect our history.
Henry Egerton had been turned early on the world, hundreds of his countrymen, without any principle to counteract the arts of infidelity, or resist the temptations of life. His father held a situation under government, and was devoted to his rise in the diplomatic line. His mother was a woman of fashion, who lived for effect and idle compet.i.tion with her sisters in weakness and folly. All he learnt in his father"s house was selfishness, from the example of one, and a love of high life and its extravagance from the other.
He entered the army young, and from choice. The splendor and reputation of the service caught his fancy; and, by pride and const.i.tution, he was indifferent to personal danger. Yet he loved London and its amus.e.m.e.nts better than glory; and the money of his uncle, Sir Edgar, whose heir he was reputed to be, raised him to the rank of lieutenant colonel, without his spending an hour in the field.
Egerton had some abilities, and a good deal of ardor of temperament, by nature. The former, from indulgence and example, degenerated into acquiring the art to please in mixed society; and the latter, from want of employment, expended itself at the card table.
The a.s.sociation between the vices is intimate. There really appears to be a kind of modesty in sin that makes it ashamed of good company. If we are unable to reconcile a favorite propensity to our principles, we are apt to abandon the unpleasant restraint on our actions, rather than admit the incongruous mixture. Freed entirely from the fetters of our morals, what is there that our vices will not prompt us to commit? Egerton, like thousands of others, went on from step to step, until he found himself in the world; free to follow all his inclinations, so he violated none of the decencies of life.