The Smuggler

Chapter 8

"They must have been soldiers who had seen little service, I should think," replied the young officer; "for a man called upon often for active exertion, soon finds the necessity of keeping any brains he has got as clear as possible, in case they should be needed. In many countries where I have been, too, we could get no wine to drink, even if we wanted it. Such was the case in Canada, and in some parts of Germany."

"Have you served in Canada?" demanded Miss Croyland suddenly, raising her eyes to his face with a look of deep interest.

"Through almost the whole of the war." replied Sir Edward Digby, quietly, without noticing, even by a glance, the change of expression which his words had produced. He then paused for a moment, as if waiting for some other question; but both Miss Croyland and her sister remained perfectly silent, and the former turned somewhat pale.

As he saw that neither of his two fair companions were likely to carry the conversation a step further, the young officer proceeded, in a quiet and even light tone--"This part of the country," he continued, "is always connected in my mind with Canada; and, indeed, I was glad to accept your father"s invitation at once, when he was kind enough to ask me to his house; for, in addition to the pleasure of making his personal acquaintance, I longed to see scenes which I had often heard mentioned with all the deep affection and delight which only can be felt by a fine mind for the spot in which our brighter years are pa.s.sed."

The younger girl looked to her sister, but Edith Croyland was deadly pale, and said nothing; and Zara inquired in a tone to which she too evidently laboured to give the gay character of her usual demeanour, "Indeed, Sir Edward! May I ask who gave you such a flattering account of our poor country? He must have been a very foolish and prejudiced person--at least, so I fear you must think, now you have seen it."

"No, no!--oh, no!" cried Digby, earnestly, "anything but that. I had that account from a person so high-minded, so n.o.ble, so full of every generous quality of heart, and every fine quality of mind, that I was quite sure, ere I came here, I should find the people whom he mentioned, and the scenes which he described, all that he had stated; and I have not been disappointed, Miss Croyland."

"But you have not named him, Sir Edward," said Zara; "you are very tantalizing. Perhaps we may know him, and be sure we shall love him for his patriotism."

"He was an officer in the regiment to which I then belonged." answered the young baronet, "and my dearest friend. His name was Leyton--a most distinguished man, who had already gained such a reputation, that, had his rank in the army admitted it, none could have been more desired to take the command of the forces when Wolfe fell on the heights of Abraham. He was too young, however, and had too little interest to obtain that position.--Miss Croyland, you seem ill. Let me give you my arm."

Edith bowed her head quietly, and leaned upon her sister, but answered not a word; and Zara gave a glance to Sir Edward Digby which he read aright. It was a meaning, a sort of relying and imploring look, as if she would have said, "I beseech you, say no more; she cannot bear it."

And the young officer abruptly turned the conversation, observing, "The day has been very hot, Miss Croyland. You have walked far, and over-fatigued yourself."

"It is nothing--it is nothing," answered Edith, with a deep-drawn breath; "it will be past in a moment, Sir Edward. I am frequently thus."

"Too frequently," murmured Zara, gazing at her sister; and Sir Edward Digby replied, "I am sure, if such be the case, you should consult some physician."

Zara shook her head with a melancholy smile, while her sister walked on, leaning upon her arm in silence, with her eyes bent towards the ground, as if in deep thought. "I fear that no physician would do her good," said the younger lady, in a low voice; "the evil is now confirmed."

"Nay," replied Digby, gazing at her, "I think I know one who could cure her entirely."

His look said more than his words; and Zara fixed her eyes upon his face for an instant with an inquiring glance. The expression then suddenly changed to one of bright intelligence, and she answered, "I will make you give me his name to-morrow, Sir Edward. Not now--not mow! I shall forget it."

Sir Edward Digby was not slow in taking a hint; and he consequently made no attempt to bring the conversation back to the subject which had so much affected Miss Croyland; but lest a dead silence should too plainly mark that he saw into the cause of the faintness which had come over her, he went on talking to her sister; and Zara soon resumed, at least to all appearance, her own light spirits again. But Digby had seen her under a different aspect, which was known to few besides her sister; and to say the truth, though he had thought her sparkling frankness very charming, yet the deeper and tenderer feelings which she had displayed towards Edith were still more to his taste.

"She is not the light coquette her uncle represents her," he thought, as they walked on: "there is a true and feeling heart beneath--one whose affections, if strongly excited and then disappointed, might make her as sad and cheerless as this other poor girl."

He had not much time to indulge either in such meditations or in conversation with his fair companion; for, when they were within about a mile of the house, old Mr. Croyland was seen advancing towards them with his usual brisk air and quick pace.

"Well, young people, well," he said, coming forward, "I bring the soberness of age to temper the lightness of youth."

"Oh, we are all very sober, uncle," replied Zara. "It is only those who stay in the house drinking wine who are otherwise."

"I have not been drinking wine, saucy girl," answered Mr. Croyland; "but come, Edith, I want to speak with you; and, as the road is too narrow for four, we"ll pair off, as the rascals who ruin the country in the House of Commons term it. Troop on, Miss Zara. There"s a gallant cavalier who will give you his arm, doubtless, if you will ask it."

"Indeed I shall do no such thing," replied the fair lady, walking on; and, while Edith and her uncle came slowly after, Sir Edward Digby and the youngest Miss Croyland proceeded on their way, remaining silent for some minutes, though each, to say the truth, was busily thinking how the conversation which had been interrupted might best be renewed.

It was Zara who spoke first, however, looking suddenly up in her companion"s face with one of her bright and sparkling smiles, and saying, "It is a strange house, is it not, Sir Edward? and we are a strange family?"

"Nay, I do not see that," replied the young officer. "With every new person whose acquaintance we make, we are like a traveller for the first time in a foreign country, and must learn the secrets of the land before we can find our way rightly."

"Oh, secrets enough here!" cried Zara. "Every one has his secret but myself. I have none, thank G.o.d! My good father is full of them; Edith, you see, has hers; my uncle is loaded with one even now, and eager to disburden himself; but my aunt"s are the most curious of all, for they are everlasting; and not only that, but though most profound, they are sure to be known in five minutes to the whole world. Try to conceal them how she may, they are sure to drop out before the day is over; and, whatever good schemes she may have against any one, no defence is needed, for they are sure to frustrate themselves.--What are you laughing at, Sir Edward? Has she begun upon you already?"

"Nay, not exactly upon me," answered Sir Edward Digby. "She certainly did let drop some words which showed me, she had some scheme in her head, though whom it referred to, I am at a loss to divine."

"Nay, nay, now you are not frank," cried the young lady. "Tell me this moment, if you would have me hold you good knight and true! Was it me or Edith that it was all about? Nay, do not shake your head, my good friend, for I will know, depend upon it; and if you do not tell me, I will ask my aunt myself----"

"Nay, for Heaven"s sake, do not!" exclaimed Sir Edward. "You must not make your aunt think that I am a tell-tale."

"Oh, I know--I know!" exclaimed the fair girl, clapping her hands eagerly--"I can divine it all in a minute. She has been telling you what an excellent good girl Zara Croyland is, and what an admirable wife she would make, especially for any man moving in the highest society, and hinting, moreover, that she is fond of military men, and, in short, that Sir Edward Digby could not do better. I know it all--I know it all, as well as if I had heard it! But now, my dear sir," she continued, in a graver tone, "put all such nonsense out of your head, if you would have us such good friends as I think we may be. Leave my dear aunt"s schemes to unravel and defeat themselves, or only think of them as a matter of amus.e.m.e.nt, and do not for a moment believe that Zara Croyland has either any share in them, or any design of captivating you or any other man whatsoever; for I tell you fairly, and at once, that I never intend--that nothing would induce me--no, not if my own dearest happiness depended upon it--to marry, and leave poor Edith to endure all that she may be called upon to undergo. I will talk to you more about her another time; for I think that you already know something beyond what you have said to-day; but we are too near the house now, and I will only add, that I have spoken frankly to Sir Edward Digby, because I believe, from all I have seen and all I have heard, that he is incapable of misunderstanding such conduct."

"You do me justice, Miss Croyland," replied the young officer, much gratified; "but you have spoken under a wrong impression in regard to your aunt. I did not interrupt you, for what you said was too pleasing, too interesting not to induce me to let you go on; but I can a.s.sure you that what I said was perfectly true, and that though some words which your aunt dropped accidentally showed me that she had some scheme on foot, she said nothing to indicate what it was."

"Well, never mind it," answered the young lady. "We now understand each other, I trust; and, after this, I do not think you will easily mistake me, though, if what I suppose is true, I may have to do a great many extraordinary things with you, Sir Edward--seek your society when you may not be very willing to grant it, consult you, rely upon you, confide in you in a way that few women would do, except with a brother or an acknowledged lover, which I beg you to understand you are on no account to be; and I, on my part, will promise that I will not misunderstand you either, nor take anything that you may do, at my request, for one very dear to me," (and she gave a glance over her shoulder towards her sister, who was some way behind,) "as anything but a sign of your having a kind and generous heart. So now that"s all settled."

"There is one thing, Miss Croyland," replied Digby, gravely, "that you will find very difficult to do, though you say you will try it, namely, to seek my society when I am unwilling to give it."

"Nay, nay, I will have no such speeches," cried Zara Croyland, "or I have done with you! I never could put any trust in a man who said civil things to me."

"What, not if he sincerely thought them?" demanded her companion.

"Then I would rather he continued to think them without speaking them," answered the young lady. "If you did but know, Sir Edward, how sickened and disgusted a poor girl in the country soon gets with flattery that means nothing, from men who insult her understanding by thinking that she can be pleased with such trash, you would excuse me for being rude and uncivilized enough to wish never to hear a smooth word from any man whom I am inclined to respect."

"Very well," answered the young baronet, laughing, "to please you, I will be as brutal as possible, and if you like it, scold you as sharply as your uncle, if you say or do anything that I disapprove of."

"Do, do!" cried Zara; "I love him and esteem him, though he does not understand me in the least; and I would rather a great deal have his conversation, sharp and snappish as it seems to be, than all the honey or milk and water of any of the smart young men in the neighbourhood.

But here we are at the house; and only one word more as a warning, and one word as a question; first, do not let any of my good aunt"s schemes embarra.s.s you in anything you have to do or say. Walk straight through them as if they did not exist. Take your own course, without, in the least degree, attending to what she says for or against."

"And what is the question?" demanded Sir Edward, as they were now mounting the steps to the terrace.

"Simply this," replied the fair lady,--"are you not acquainted with more of Edith"s history than the people here are aware of?"

"I am," answered Digby; "and to see more of her, to speak with her for a few minutes in private, if possible, was the great object of my coming hither."

"Thanks, thanks!" said Zara, giving him a bright and grateful smile.

"Be guided by me, and you shall have the opportunity. But I must speak with you first myself, that you may know all. I suppose you are an early riser?"

"Oh, yes!" replied Sir Edward; but he added no more; for at that moment they were overtaken by Edith and Mr. Croyland; and the whole party entered the house together.

CHAPTER IX.

There is a strange similarity--I had nearly called it an affinity--between the climate of any country and the general character of its population; and there is a still stronger and more commonly remarked resemblance between the changes of the weather and the usual course of human life. From the atmosphere around us, and from the alterations which affect it, poets and moralists both, have borrowed a large store of figures; and the words, clouds, and sunshine, light breezes, and terrible storms, are terms as often used to express the variations in man"s condition as to convey the ideas to which they were originally applied. But it is the affinity between the climate and the people of which I wish to speak. The sunny lightness of the air of France, the burning heat of Italy and Spain, the cold dullness of the skies of Holland, contrast as strongly with the climate in which we live, as the characters of the several nations amongst themselves; and the fiercer tempests of the south, the more foggy and heavy atmosphere of the north, may well be taken as some compensation for the continual mutability of the weather in our own most changeable air. The differences are not so great here as in other lands. We escape, in general, the tornado and the hurricane, we know little of the burning heat of summer, or the intense cold of winter, as they are experienced in other parts of the world; but at all events, the changes are much more frequent; and we seldom have either a long lapse of sunny days, or a long continued season of frost, without interruption. So it is, too, with the people. Moveable and fluctuating as they always are, seeking novelty, disgusted even with all that is good as soon as they discover that it is old, our laws, our inst.i.tutions, our very manners are continually undergoing some change, though rarely, very rarely indeed, is it brought about violently and without due preparation. Sometimes it will occur, indeed, both morally and physically, that a great and sudden alteration takes place, and a rash and vehement proceeding will disturb the whole country, and seem to shake the very foundations of society. In the atmosphere, too, clouds and storms will gather in a few hours, and darken the whole heaven.

The latter was the case during the first night of Sir Edward Digby"s stay at Harbourne House. The evening preceding, as well as the day, had been warm and sunshiny; but about nine o"clock the wind suddenly chopped round to the southward, and when Sir Edward woke on the following morning, as he usually did, about six, he found a strong breeze blowing and rattling the cas.e.m.e.nts of the room, and the whole atmosphere loaded with a heavy sea-mist filled with saline particles, borne over Romney Marsh to the higher country, in which the house was placed.

"A pleasant day for partridge-shooting," he thought, as he rose from his bed; "what variations there are in this climate." But nevertheless, he opened the window and looked out, when, somewhat to his surprise, he saw fifteen or sixteen horses moving along the road, heavily laden, with a number of men on horseback following, and eight or ten on foot driving the weary beasts along. They were going leisurely enough; there was no affectation of haste or concealment; but yet all that the young officer had heard of the county and of the habits of its denizens, led him naturally to suppose that he had a gang of smugglers before him, escorting from the coast some contraband goods lately landed.

He had soon a more unpleasant proof of the lawless state of that part of England; for as he continued to lean out of the window, saying to himself, "Well, it is no business of mine," he saw two or three of the men pause; and a moment after, a voice shouted--"Take that, old Croyland, for sending me to gaol last April."

The wind bore the sounds to his ear, and made the words distinct; and scarcely had they been spoken, when a flash broke through the misty air, followed by a loud report, and a ball whizzed through the window, just above his head, breaking one of the panes of gla.s.s, and lodging in the cornice at the other side of the room.

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