Memoirs of Emma Courtney Part 7

'Is this just--is it kind? Is it, indeed, _my welfare_ you seek, while you can thus add to the vexations and embarra.s.sment, which were before sufficiently oppressive? I would preserve you from an act of precipitation and imprudence;--in return, you load me with unmerited reproaches. But it is time to put an end to a conversation, that can answer little other purpose than vain recrimination.'

He was about to speak--'Say no more--I feel myself, again, in danger of losing my temper--my spirits are agitated--I would not give you pain--Allow me to retire, and be a.s.sured of my best wishes.'

Some of the family appearing in sight, as if advancing towards us, favoured my retreat. I quitted the place with precipitation, and retired to my chamber, where I sought, by employing myself, to calm the perturbation of my heart.

CHAPTER XVIII

In a few days I renewed my visit to Mrs Harley:--a strong sympathy united us, and we became almost inseparable. Every day I discovered in this admirable woman a new and indissoluble tie, that bound me to her. Her cultivated understanding afforded an inexhaustible fund of instruction and entertainment; and her affectionate heart spread a charm over her most indifferent actions. We read, we walked, we conversed together; but, with whatever subjects these conversations commenced, some a.s.sociated idea always led them to terminate in an eulogium on the virtues and talents, or an expression of regret, for the absence of Augustus. There was a portrait of him (drawn by a celebrated artist, which he had lately sent from town as a present to his mother) hung up in the library. I accustomed myself to gaze on this resemblance of a man, in whose character I felt so lively an interest, till, I fancied, I read in the features all the qualities imputed to the original by a tender and partial parent.

Cut off from the society of mankind, and unable to expound my sensations, all the strong affections of my soul seemed concentrated to a single point. Without being conscious of it, my grateful love for Mrs Harley had, already, by a transition easy to be traced by a philosophic mind, transferred itself to her son. He was the St Preux, the Emilius of my sleeping and waking reveries. I now spent almost my whole time in the cottage of my friend, returning to Morton Park late in the evening, and quitting it early in the morning, and sometimes being wholly absent for weeks together.

Six months thus pa.s.sed away in tranquillity, with but little variation.

Mr Montague, during this period, had several times left Mr Morton's, and returned again abruptly: his manners became sullen, and even, at times, ferocious. I carefully avoided encountering him, fearful of exasperating a spirit, that appeared every moment on the verge of excess.

Hastening one evening to my friend, after a longer separation than common, (having been prevailed on by Mr Morton and his daughters to accompany them on a distant visit, where business of Mr Morton's detained us for some days) I ran into the library, as usual, and threw myself into the arms of Mrs Harley, that opened spontaneously to receive me.

'Ah! you little truant,' said she, in a voice of kindness, 'where have you been so long? My son has visited me in your absence; he pa.s.sed through this part of the country, in his way to the seat of a friend.

He staid with me two days, during which I sent half a dozen messages to Morton Park, but you were flown away, it seems, nor could I learn any tidings of you. Augustus,' continued she, without observing the emotions she excited, 'had scarcely quitted the house an hour when you arrived.'

I made no reply; an unaccountable sensation seized, and oppressed, my heart--sinking on the sopha, I burst into a convulsive flood of tears.

My friend was struck: all the indiscretion of her conduct (as she has since told me) flashed suddenly into her mind; she felt that, in indulging her own maternal sensations, she had, perhaps, done me an irreparable injury, and she shuddered at the probable consequences. It was some moments before either of us recovered;--our conversation was that evening, for the first time, constrained, reserved, and painful; and we retired at an early hour to our respective apartments.

I spent the night in self-examination. I was compelled to acknowledge, to myself, that solitude, the absence of other impressions, the previous circ.u.mstances that had operated on my character, my friendship for Mrs Harley, and her eloquent, affectionate, reiterated, praises of her son, had combined to awaken all the exquisite, though dormant, sensibilities of my nature; and, however romantic it might appear to others, and did appear even to myself, I felt, that I loved an ideal object (for such was Augustus Harley to me) with a tender and fervent excess; an excess, perhaps, involving all my future usefulness and welfare. 'People, in general,' says Rousseau, 'do not sufficiently consider the influence which the first attachments, between man and woman, have over the remainder of their lives; they do not perceive, that an impression so strong, and so lively, as that of love, is productive of a long chain of effects, which pa.s.s un.o.bserved in a course of years, yet, nevertheless, continue to operate till the day of their deaths.' It was in vain I attempted to combat this illusion; my reason was but an auxiliary to my pa.s.sion, it persuaded me, that I was only doing justice to high and uncommon worth; imagination lent her aid, and an importunate sensibility, panting after good unalloyed, completed the seduction.

From this period Mrs Harley was more guarded in her conduct; she carefully avoided the mention of her son.--Under pretence of having an alteration made in the frame, she removed his picture from the library; but the constraint she put upon herself was too evident and painful; we no longer sought, with equal ardour, an interchange of sentiment, reserve took place of the tender confidence of friendship; a thousand times, while I gazed upon her dear averted countenance, I yearned to throw myself upon her bosom, to weep, to unfold to her the inmost recesses of my mind--that ingenuous mind, which languished for communication, and preyed upon itself! Dear and cruel friend, why did you transfix my heart with the barbed and envenomed arrow, and then refuse to administer the only healing balsam?

My visits to Mrs Harley became less frequent; I shut myself up whole days in my apartment, at Morton Park, or wandered through its now leafless groves, absorbed in meditation--fostering the sickly sensibility of my soul, and nursing wild, improbable, chimerical, visions of felicity, that, touched by the sober wand of truth, would have 'melted into thin air.' 'The more desires I have' (observes an acute, and profound French Philosopher[4]) 'the less ardent they are.

The torrents that divide themselves into many branches are the least dangerous in their course. A strong pa.s.sion is a solitary pa.s.sion, that concentrates all our desires within one point.'

[Footnote 4: Helvetius.]

CHAPTER XIX

I had not seen my friend for many days, when, on a dark and stormy night, in the month of January, between nine and ten o'clock, the family at Morton Park were alarmed, by a loud and violent knocking at the hall door.

On opening it, a servant appeared--and a chaise, the porter having unbolted the great gates, drew up to the door. The man delivered a note addressed to Miss Courtney. I was unacquainted with the handwriting, and unfolded it with trepidation. It contained but a few lines, written in a female character, and signed with the name of a lady, who resided about twelve miles from Morton Park, at whose house Mrs Harley sometimes made a visit of a few days. It stated--

'That my friend was seized at the mansion of this lady with an apoplectic fit, from which she had been restored, after some hours of insensibility: that the physicians were apprehensive of a relapse, and that Mrs Harley had expressed a desire of seeing Miss Courtney--A carriage and servants were sent for her conveyance.'

Mr Morton was from home, his lady made no offer of any of her own domestics to accompany me. Montague, who had been at the Park for some days past, solicited permission to be my escort. I hesitated a moment, and would willingly have declined this proposal, but he repeated and enforced it with a vehemence, that, in the present hurried state of my mind, I had not spirits to oppose. Shocked, alarmed, distressed, I wrapped a shawl round me, and sprang into the chaise. Montague stepped in after me, and seated himself by my side; the horses galloped, or rather flew down the avenue, that led to the high road.

We travelled with great swiftness, and in uninterrupted silence for some miles: the darkness was so thick and profound, that I could not discover the road we took, and I began to feel very impatient to arrive at the place of our destination. I questioned my companion respecting his knowledge of our situation, and expressed an apprehension, that we might possibly have missed the way. He made no reply to my interrogation, but, starting as if from a reverie, seized my hand, while his own trembled with a visible agitation, and began once more to urge a suit, which I had hoped the steadiness and consistency of my conduct had induced him entirely to relinquish.

'Is this a time, Mr Montague, for an address of this nature--do you believe, that my favour is to be gained by these proofs of inconsideration? Have some respect for the claims of humanity and friendship, and, in seeking my affection, do not forfeit my esteem.'

He was about to reply, and I could perceive by the few words which he uttered, and by the tone of his voice, that he struggled, in vain, to rein in his quick and irascible spirit; when, in turning a sharp angle of the road, the horses took fright at some object, indistinctly seen, and ran precipitately down a steep hill, with a velocity that threatened immediate destruction.

My companion, forcing open the door, seemed inclined to leap from the carriage, but hesitated, as if unwilling to desert me in so imminent a danger; I exhorted him to think only of providing for his own safety, and, letting down the gla.s.ses on the side on which I sat, I resigned myself to my fate. In springing from the chaise, by some means, Montague entangled his coat in the step--he fell, without clearing it, and I felt, with a horror that congealed my blood, the wheel go over him. In a few minutes, I perceived a traveller, at the risque of his own life, endeavouring to stop the horses--the pole of the chaise striking him with great force, he was obliged to relinquish his humane efforts--but this impediment occasioning the restive animals to turn out of the road, they ran furiously up a bank, and overset the carriage. I felt it going, and sitting, with my arms folded, close in the lower corner, fell with it, without attempting to struggle, by which means I escaped unhurt.

The stranger, once more, came to our a.s.sistance, and, the mettle of the horses being now pretty well exhausted, my deliverer was enabled to cut the traces, and then hastened to extricate me from my perilous situation.

It was some time before I recovered myself sufficiently to thank him for his humanity, and to a.s.sure him, that I had received no other injury than from my fears. I then mentioned to him, my apprehensions for the fate of my fellow traveller, entreating that he would return with me in search of him. With this request he immediately complied, leaving the horses in the care of the servants, neither of which had received any material hurt.

We soon discovered the unfortunate Montague, lying in the road, in a melancholy situation: the wheel had gone over one of his legs, the bone of which was broken and splintered in a terrible manner, and, having fainted from the pain, we were at first apprehensive that he was already dead. Turning from this shocking spectacle, a faint sickness overspread my heart, the stranger supported me in his arms, while a violent burst of tears preserved me from swooning. My companion examining the body, perceived signs of life, and, by our united efforts, sense and recollection were soon restored.

I remained with Montague while the stranger returned to the carriage, to enquire what damages it had received, and whether it was in a condition to proceed to the next village, which, the postilion informed him, was near two miles from the spot where the accident had happened, and we were, yet, five miles from the place whither we were going. The axle-tree and one of the hind wheels, upon examination, were found broken, the traces had been cut in pieces, and the horses, had the chaise been in a better condition, were so unmanageable, in consequence of their late fright, that it would have been dangerous to have attempted putting them again into harness.

With this intelligence, our kind friend came back to us--We held a short consultation, on the means most proper to be adopted, and, at length it was determined, that, after placing Montague in the carriage, where he should be sheltered from the inclemency of the elements, and leaving him in the charge of the servants, the traveller and myself should walk onward to the village, and send a chaise, or litter, for the conveyance of our unfortunate companion.

To this proposal Montague a.s.sented, at the same time, declaring it to be his intention, to proceed directly across the country, to the house of his father, which could not, he conjectured, be at any great distance, and where he should be a.s.sured of meeting with greater attention, and more skilful a.s.sistance, than at a petty inn, in a paltry village.

Having thus adjusted our plan, and, with the help of the servants, carefully placed Montague in the chaise, we proceeded towards the village.

CHAPTER XX

The night was tempestuous, and, though the moon was now rising, her light was every moment obscured by dark clouds, discharging frequent and heavy showers of rain, accompanied by furious gusts of wind. After walking near a mile we entered upon a wide heath, which afforded no shelter from the weather. I perceived my companion's steps began to grow feeble, and his voice faint. The moon suddenly emerging from a thick cloud, I observed his countenance, and methought his features seemed familiar to me; but they were overspread by a pallid and death-like hue.

He stopped suddenly--

'I am very ill,' said he, in a tone of voice that penetrated into my soul, 'and can proceed no further.'

He sunk upon the turf. Seating myself beside him, while his head fell on my shoulder, I threw around him my supporting arms. His temples were bedewed with a cold sweat, and he appeared to be in expiring agonies. A violent sickness succeeded, followed by an hemorrhage.

'Gracious G.o.d!' I exclaimed, 'you have broken a blood vessel!'

'I fear so,' he replied. 'I have felt strangely disordered since the blow I received from the pole of the carriage; but, till this moment, I have not been at leisure to attend to my sensations.'

'Do not talk,' cried I, wildly; 'do not exhaust yourself.'

Again the clouds gathered; an impetuous gust of wind swept over the heath, and the rain fell in torrents. Unconscious of what I did, I clasped the stranger to my throbbing bosom,--the coldness of death seemed upon him--I wrapped my shawl around him, vainly attempting to screen him from the piercing blast. He spake not; my terrified imagination already represented him as a lifeless corpse; I sat motionless for some minutes, in the torpor of despair.

From this horrible situation, I was, at length, roused, by the sound of a distant team: breathless, I listened for a few moments; I again distinctly heard it wafted upon the wind; when, gently reclining my charge on the gra.s.s, I started from the ground, and ran swiftly towards the highway. The sound approached, and the clouds once more breaking, and discovering a watery moon-light gleam, I perceived, with joy, a waggon loaded with hay. I bounded over a part of the turf that still separated me from the road, and accosting the driver, explained to him, in a few words, as much of my situation as was necessary; and, entreating his a.s.sistance, allured him by the hope of a reward.

We returned to my patient; he raised his head on my approach, and attempted to speak; but, enjoining him silence, he took my hand, and, by a gentle pressure, expressed his sense of my cares more eloquently than by words. I a.s.sisted the countryman in supporting him to the road. We prepared for him, in the waggon, a soft bed of hay, upon which we placed him; and, resting his head on my lap, we proceeded gently to the nearest village. On our arrival at an indifferent inn, I ordered a bed to be immediately prepared for him, and sent a man and horse express, to the next town, for medical a.s.sistance: at the same time, relating in brief the accidents of the night, I dispatched a carriage for the relief of Montague, who was conveyed, according to his wishes, to the house of his father.

Notwithstanding all my precautions, the moving brought on a relapse of the alarming symptoms; the discharge of blood returned with aggravated violence, and, when the physician arrived, there appeared in the unfortunate sufferer but little signs of life; but by the application of styptics and cordials he once more began to revive; and, about five in the morning, I was prevailed on, by the joint efforts of the landlady and the humane Dr----, to resign my seat at the bed's head to a careful servant, and to recruit my exhausted strength by a few hours' repose.

The vivid impressions, which had so rapidly succeeded each other in my mind, for some time kept me waking, in a state of feverish agitation; but my harra.s.sed spirits were at length relieved by wearied nature's kind restorer, and I slept for four hours profoundly.