Emmeline Part 29

'This hand,' exclaimed he, eagerly grasping it, 'which ought to have been mine!--Now, even now, that you are about to tear yourself from me, it should have been mine for ever! But I have relinquished my prize at the moment I might have secured it; and if I lose it entirely my own folly only will be the cause.'

'These violent transports may terrify me, but shall not alter my determination. Quit my hand, Mr. Delamere,' continued she, struggling to disengage it--'I will not be detained.'

She rang the bell; and the waiter almost instantly entering, she took a candle and went to the apartment prepared for her: while Delamere, vexed to have commanded himself so little, and to be so unable to adhere to the good resolutions he had made, dared not attempt to prevent her.

He had now again to make his peace, but would not venture to take any steps towards it that night; and he retired to his own room, considering how he might remain near her after she got into Dorsetshire, and dreading the hour of even a temporary separation.

The next morning Emmeline, impatient to be gone, dressed herself early; and just as she was about to go down to hasten their breakfast and departure, she saw, from a window that looked into the yard of the inn, a phaeton and four enter it, remarkable for the profusion of expensive and ill-fancied ornaments with which both the carriage and harness were covered. In it were two gentlemen wrapped in great coats, as the weather was very severe; on whom Emmeline casting a transient glance, discovered that one of them was Elkerton.

She was a good deal alarmed at his arrival: for she had reason to fear, that this man, to whom she had a decided aversion, would see her, and know that she was travelling alone with Delamere. She saw him get out, and give directions for putting up his horses, telling the people who came out to attend him that he should breakfast and stay there some hours.

Since his unfortunate _rencontre_ with Delamere at Mrs. Ashwood's, he had almost entirely relinquished the pursuit of Emmeline. He had never been able to shake off the ridicule his vanity had brought upon him, and therefore had forborne to enter the circle where it had happened. He had, however, seen Miss Mowbray once or twice in public, and she had been too generally admired not to interest his pride in keeping up the acquaintance, tho' she treated him always with coldness, and found it difficult to be barely civil. She knew that he was severely mortified by her indifference, and that in matters of scandal and gossiping no old woman could be a greater adept. When therefore personal pique was added to his natural love of anecdote, Emmeline apprehended so much from him, that she determined, if possible, to escape his sight.

To do this, however, was very difficult. She saw him and his companion take possession of a room that had windows looking into the yard through which she must of necessity pa.s.s, and where, when the post-chaise drew up, they must see whoever got into it. She wrapped herself up in her cloak, pulled her hat over her eyes, and holding up her handkerchief as if to guard her face from the cold, she pa.s.sed un.o.bserved to the room where Delamere was waiting breakfast.

The remembrance of his last night's behaviour was in some measure obliterated by the alarm she had felt at the sight of Elkerton. Delamere looked melancholy and dejected. Emmeline speaking to him with her usual sweetness, seemed to have forgotten the offence he had given her, and tried to restore his good humour as if she had been the aggressor: but he continued gloomy and pensive.

They began their breakfast, and conversed on different subjects.

'Did you observe,' said Emmeline, 'the phaeton which drove in just now?'

'No--what was there remarkable about it?'

'Nothing, but that one of the persons it contained was Elkerton, the poor man you made so absurd at Mrs. Ashwood's, when he boasted of knowing you. I hope I shall get away without his seeing me--I should extremely dislike meeting him.'

'Stupid dog!--why should you care whether you meet him or no?'

'Because he must think it so strange that I am here with you.'

'Let him--Of what consequence is it to us what such a puppy thinks? I cannot possibly care about it.'

'But _I_ do, Mr. Delamere,' said Emmeline, somewhat gravely.--'You will recollect that I may be very much injured by the scandal such a man may circulate.'

'Well, well, my dear Emmeline--we will set out directly, and you will not meet him.--I will order the chaise.'

He went out for that purpose as soon as their breakfast ended; but a few paces from the door was accosted by Elkerton, who feeling himself in point of figure equal to speak to any man, addressed him with all the confident familiarity of an old acquaintance.

'Sir, your most obedient humble servant.'

'Your servant, Sir;' replied Delamere, brushing by him.

'Sir, I hope you, and my Lord and Lady Montreville, have been well since I had last the honour of seeing you?'

'Since you oblige me, Sir, to acknowledge the acquaintance, I must remind you that our last meeting was attended with some circ.u.mstances which should make you not very desirous of recollecting it.'

'Oh, dear! very far from not wishing to remember it, I am always pleased with such agreeable badinage from my friends, and some how or other contrive to be even with them. Prithee, dear boy, whither are you going?--perhaps we are travelling the same road?'

'I hope not,' said Delamere, turning from him, and advancing towards the bar.

Elkerton, unabashed, followed him.

'If we are,' continued he, 'I think you shall take me into your post-chaise. I am going to pa.s.s a month with a friend in Hampshire; and Jackman, who loves driving, tho' he knows nothing of the matter, persuaded me to use an open carriage; but it is so cold, that I believe I shall let him enjoy it alone the rest of the way. Suppose we go together, if your destination is the Winchester road?'

Delamere was so provoked at this forwardness, that he found he should be unable to give a moderate answer.--He therefore turned away without giving any.

'Pray, Sir,' said the bar maid to Elkerton, 'who is that young gentleman?'

'Lord Montreville's son,' replied he; 'and one of the strangest fellows in the world.--Sometimes we are as intimate as brothers; and now you see he'll hardly speak to me.'

'Perhaps, Mr. Elkerton,' said the woman, smiling, 'the young gentleman may have very good reasons for not taking another companion in his post-chaise.'

Elkerton pressed her to explain herself.

'Why you must know,' said she, 'that there's a young lady with him; one of the prettiest young women I ever see. Last night, after they comed here, his walet was pretty near tipsey; so he come and sot down here, and told me how his master had hired him to go along with 'em to Scotland; but that before they got near half way, somehow or other 'twas settled for 'em to come back again. But don't say as I told you, Mr.

Elkerton, for that would be as much as my place is worth.'

This intelligence awakened all the curiosity of Elkerton, together with some hopes of being able to revenge himself on Delamere for his contempt and rudeness.

'Egad!' cried he, 'I'll have a peep at this beauty, however.'

So saying, he strutted across the yard, and placed himself under a little piazza which made a covered communication between the rooms of the inn which were built round the yard, and along which they were obliged to pa.s.s to get into the chaise.

The room door opened--Delamere and Emmeline appeared at it.

'Draw up, postillions, as close as you can,' cried the waiter.

Delamere, holding Emmeline's hand, advanced; but on seeing Elkerton, she stepped back into the room.

'Come, come,' said Delamere--'never concern yourself about that impertinent fellow.'

Elkerton, tho' he did not distinctly hear this speech, had caught a view of the person to whom it was addressed; and tho' her face was concealed, her height and air convinced him it was Miss Mowbray.

'How do you, Madam?' exclaimed he, bowing and advancing--'Miss Mowbray, I hope I have the happiness of seeing you well.'

'We are in haste, Sir,' said Delamere, leading Emmeline towards the chaise.

'Nay, my good friend,' returned Elkerton, 'allow me I beg to pay my respects to this lady, with whom I have the honour of being acquainted--Miss Mowbray, permit me----'

He would have taken the hand which was disengaged; but Emmeline shrunk from him, and stepped quickly into the chaise.

Elkerton still advanced, and leaning almost into it, he said--'Your long journey, I hope, has not too much fatigued you.'

'By heaven!' exclaimed Delamere, 'this is too much! Sir, you are the most troublesome, insolent fool, I ever met with!'

So saying, he seized Elkerton by the collar, and twisting him suddenly round, threw him with great violence against one of the pillars of the piazza.

He then got into the chaise; and taking out of his pocket two or three cards, on which his address was written, he tossed them out of the window; saying, with a voice that struck terror into the overthrown knight on the ground--'You know where to hear of me if you have any thing to say.'

The chaise now drove quickly away; while Delamere tried to rea.s.sure Emmeline, who was so much terrified by the suddenness of this scuffle, that she had hardly breath to reproach him for his impetuosity. He answered, that he had kept his temper too long with the meddling ideot, and that to have overlooked such impertinence without resentment was not in his nature. He tried to laugh off her apprehensions; and flattered by the anxiety she felt for his safety, all his gaiety and good humour seemed to return.