The Gipsy Part 3

Colonel Manners bowed, and replied, "I have been lucky enough to find among my mother's papers, madam, the letters of the Honourable Mrs.

Falkland; and am aware how fortunate in a friend my parent was during the greater part of her short life. Most proud shall I be if the son may merit some portion of the same regard which you bestowed upon the mother."

"You already command it, Colonel Manners," she replied: "Isadore,--Marian--Colonel Manners! My daughter--my niece, Miss De Vaux."

Now this introduction puzzled Colonel Manners a good deal, for reasons which may as well be explained. He had heard long before, while abroad, that his friend Edward de Vaux, the only son of Lord Dewry, was affianced to his cousin, and that their marriage was to take place as soon as the young heir of the barony could return to his native country, provided that the lady were by that time of age. In the course of their intimacy in other lands, De Vaux had often spoken of his fair cousin Marian, and had indeed on their return besought Colonel Manners to accompany him down to the house of his aunt, in order to act the part of bridesman at his wedding, which was to take place immediately. With this request we have seen that he complied; but he had completely made up his mind to the belief that his friend was about to be united to the daughter of Mrs. Falkland, and he was now surprised to find a Miss De Vaux, towards whom the manner of Edward de Vaux was not exactly that which men a.s.sume towards their sisters. Besides, her name was Marian, that of his promised bride; and although this discovery, leaping over the head of all his own preconceptions, puzzled Colonel Manners for a moment, he soon set it all to rights in his own mind, by supposing, what was in fact the truth, that the fair girl we have described was the daughter of Lord Dewry's brother.

All the while he was settling this to his own satisfaction, he was going through the manual of politeness, and doing De Vaux the favour of talking to Mrs. Falkland and her daughter, while the lover spoke in a lower tone to the other fair cousin. Whatever he said, however, seemed to have no very great effect upon her. She smiled, and seemed to answer him kindly and affectionately; but she displayed no further sign of that agitation which a girl in her situation might be expected to feel on the return of her lover from a long and dangerous expedition. Once, indeed, she laid her hand upon the table near her, and Colonel Manners saw that, notwithstanding the general composure which she seemed to feel, that hand trembled so much, that, as if conscious its tremour might be perceived, she instantly withdrew it, and suffered her arm to fall gracefully by her side.

Manners marked all this, for from their first acquaintance De Vaux had interested him, as much perhaps by the contrast of the little foibles of his character with the greater and n.o.bler qualities it possessed, as by any other circ.u.mstance: he had gradually suffered a deep regard for him to rise up in his heart; he had permitted imagination to indulge herself with bright pictures of his friend's domestic happiness; and in every little trait connected therewith he had a sort of personal feeling, which made him seek to discover all that he wished might be.

After standing booted and spurred in the middle of the room for about ten minutes, and having learned that their servants had arrived with their baggage early in the morning of the same day, the two gentlemen retired to cast off their travelling costume, and attire themselves in apparel more suited to the drawing-room. Colonel Manners proceeded to the task systematically; and although he knew that nothing on earth could ever make him handsome, yet he took every reasonable pains with his dress, and was soon ready to descend again, with that neat, clean, soldier-like appearance for which he was particularly distinguished.

De Vaux acted differently, as may well be supposed, and giving his man the keys of the trunk-mails, he cast himself on a chair; and, with his arms leaning on the dressing-table, remained for full ten minutes in deep and somewhat melancholy thought, while the servant continued to torment him every other minute, with--"Sir, do you want this?" or, "Sir, shall I do that?"

Into his private thoughts we shall not at present pry, although we consider that we have a right to do so whenever the necessities of the tale may demand it; but in this instance it is only requisite to give the ending reflection of his revery, which may serve as a key to all the rest. "How cold Manners must have thought her reception of me! and yet her own lips, which never from her infancy spoke any thing but truth, have given me the a.s.surance of her love. Well, we cannot change people's nature!--and yet she was very different as a child!"

Such were the last dying words of his meditation and then, starting up, he proceeded hastily to dress himself, addressing the servant with as much impatience as if the man had been dreaming instead of himself.

"There, give me that coat," he exclaimed. "Set down the dressing-case here. Put those shoes on the other side of the table; and throw the stockings over the back of the chair. How slow you are, William! Here now, pull off these great boots, and then go and see that old Joseph does not poison the horses with any of his nostrums." These various commands the man obeyed with as much prompt.i.tude as possible; and after he was gone, De Vaux proceeded to dress himself with all the haste of one who is afraid of being detected in loitering away his time. He was half-way through the operation, and was just arranging his hair, when Manners, whose rooms were on the opposite side of the corridor, rejoined him; and they descended together, without having made any comment on the subject which was certainly next to the heart of Edward de Vaux. He felt that in common delicacy he could not begin it, though he would have given worlds, by any curious process of distillation, to have extracted Colonel Manners's first impression of her he loved; and Manners was resolved to see more and judge more clearly, ere he ventured even the common nothings which are usually said upon such occasions.

In the meanwhile, the ladies in the drawing-room had not, of course, refrained from comment on the appearance and arrival of their visiters. As the first object of all their affections was Edward de Vaux, his appearance and health naturally occupied several moments ere anything else was thought of.

"How very well he looks!" said Mrs. Falkland; "his health seems greatly improved."

"I never saw him look so handsome," said Isadore Falkland, "though he was wrapped in that horrid great coat."

Marian de Vaux said nothing, but she repaid her cousin for her praises of her lover's looks by a smile as bright as an angel's, which fluttered away in a warm blush, though it had nearly been drowned in some sparkling drops that rose into her eyes. So she turned away, and began playing with the seals on the writing-table.

"I am delighted that Edward has prevailed on Colonel Manners to come down with him," said Mrs. Falkland; "for I have longed to see him on his mother's account."

"And I, because he saved Edward's life," said Marian de Vaux.

"And I am delighted too," said Isadore Falkland, "because he seems a very agreeable gentlemanly man, though certainly a very ugly one--I think as ugly a man as I ever saw."

"His face is certainly not handsome," replied her mother; "but his figure seems remarkably fine. His mother was as beautiful a woman as ever lived; and I have heard that till he was twenty he was equally good looking."

"Poor fellow!" cried Isadore; "he has been very unfortunate, then; for it is better to be born ugly than to become so afterward."

"I did not think him ugly at all," said Marian de Vaux.

"That was because you only saw the man that saved Edward's life,"

replied Isadore, laughing; "but he is not beautiful, I can a.s.sure you, Marian."

"Happy are they, my dear Isadore," replied her mother, "who can 'see Oth.e.l.lo's visage in his mind;' and I do not think you, my dear girl, are one either, to value any one for their personal appearance."

"No, no, no, mamma! I am not," answered Miss Falkland; "but still, some sensible old gentleman has said that a good countenance is the best letter of recommendation; and now, had it not been that you had known Colonel Manners's mother, or that he had saved Edward's life--yet, notwithstanding--" she added, breaking off her sentence abruptly--"after all, perhaps, his face is just the one from which we should expect a man to save people's lives, and do a great many brave and n.o.ble things."

"I think so, certainly," answered Mrs. Falkland. "However ugly it may be, I have seldom seen a face through which a fine mind shone out so distinctly."

Such was the tenour of the conversation that went on in the drawing-room till the two gentlemen returned, and by their presence took themselves out of the range of topics. Other subjects were soon started, and filled the hours till supper-time. Edward de Vaux naturally took the place he loved best; and what pa.s.sed between him and his fair cousin was not always loud enough in its tone, or general enough in its nature, to be very distinct to the rest of the party, or very interesting to the reader. Manners, who knew as well as any one how to effect a diversion in favour of a friend, placed himself near the other ladies, and displayed such stores of varied information as well occupied their attention. Those stores were somewhat desultory, perhaps, but they were gained from every source. Man, and all the fine and all the amusing traits of his character; countries, and all their beauties and their disadvantages; the history of other times, the varied events of the present; matters of taste and of science, the light wit of a playful imagination, and the choice knowledge procured by very extensive reading; all seemed to come within the scope of his mind. All too, had been refined and ornamented by judgment and good feeling, and his conversation had still the peculiar charm of appearing far less profound than it really was. It was all light, and playful, and gay; and yet, on rising from it, one felt improved and instructed, without well knowing how or in what. His memory, too, was excellent, and stored with a number of little anecdotes and beautiful sc.r.a.ps of poetry; and, without ever seeming to intrude them, he knew how to mingle them in the general current of what was pa.s.sing, with tact almost as skilful as that of the greatest writer and most amiable man that centuries have witnessed upon earth--Sir Walter Scott.

So extensive, indeed, seemed to have been the reading of their new acquaintance, that Mrs. Falkland wondered thereat in silence; while Isadore, well knowing that there is scarcely any question on the face of the earth that a young and pretty woman may not ask of a man under forty with perfect _bienseance_ and propriety, looked up with a smile, and said--"Pray tell me, Colonel Manners, where you have found time, while you have been defeating the king's enemies night and day, to read everything of every kind that is worth reading."

"Oh, madam," he replied, "I am afraid I have read but little as compared with what I might have done. A soldier's life is the most favourable of all others for general reading; though, perhaps, not for pursuing steadily any particular study. He is for a few days full of active employment, and then for many more has hardly anything to do; and if he gives one half of his spare time to reading, he will, I believe, read more than many a philosopher. The only difficulty is in procuring books that are worth the trouble of poring over."

In such conversation pa.s.sed the hours till supper; for those were days of supper,--that most pleasant and sociable of all ways of acquiring the nightmare. When the meal was announced, it of course caused some derangement in the local position of the parties; and Edward de Vaux being brought for a moment nearer to his aunt than his other occupations had hitherto permitted, she took the opportunity of saying,--"I hope, Edward, your father will not be at all offended at your coming here first. He is sometimes a little _ombrageux_, you know; and I would advise you to ride over tomorrow as early as possible."

"Oh! no fear of his being offended, my dear aunt," he replied. "In the first place, he wrote to give me that a.s.surance. In the next place, as we chose to ride our own two best horses down, rather than trust them to two break-neck grooms, we could not have gone seventeen miles farther to-night: and in the last place," he added, in a lower tone, "you know that his lordship never likes visiters to take him by surprise; and as the invitation to Manners was yours, not his, of course I could not have brought him to the hall without writing, which I had no time to do. There is nothing he hates so much as any one taking him by surprise."

Almost as he spoke, the old servant Peter, who had retired after announcing supper, once more threw the door open with a portentous swing, and proclaimed, in a loud voice, "Lord Dewry!" Something like a smile glanced upon Mrs. Falkland's lip, as the sudden and unexpected arrival of her brother contrasted somewhat strangely with what her nephew had just been saying. She paused in her progress to the supper-room, however; and, in a moment after, with a slow step, which was languid without being feeble, Lord Dewry entered the ante-room, and came forward towards them.

While he is in the act of doing so, let us paint him to the reader--at least, as far as the outward man is concerned. Of the inward man more must be said hereafter. He was tall--perhaps six feet high, or very near it--and well made, though not excessively thin. His frame was broad, and had been very powerful; his shoulders wide, his chest expansive, and his waist remarkably small. In feature, too, it could be still discerned that he had once been a very handsome man; but his face was now thin and sharp, and his complexion extremely sallow. His eyes, however, were still fine, and his teeth of a dazzling whiteness.

He might have numbered sixty years, but he looked somewhat older, although he had taken a good deal of pains with his dress, and lay under considerable obligations to his valet-de-chambre. The first impression produced on the mind of a stranger by the appearance of Lord Dewry was imposing but not pleasing; and, unfortunately, the unpleasant effect did not wear off. He looked very much the peer and the man of consequence, but there was a gloomy cloud upon his brow which was not melancholy, and a curl of the lip which was not a smile, and both prepared the mind of all who approached him, for not the most agreeable man in the world. His general expression, too, was cold, he had a look like the easterly wind, at once chilling and piercing; and though report said that he had been a very fascinating man in his youth, and had not always made the best use of his powers of pleasing, he did not seem at present to consider it at all necessary to use any effort to render himself agreeable, farther than the common forms of society and what was due to his own station required.

"Well, my lord," said Mrs. Falkland, as he came forward, "I am happy to see you come to welcome our wanderer back again."

As she spoke, Edward advanced to his father, who grasped his hand eagerly, while a smile of unfeigned pleasure for a single instant spread a finer expression over the worn features of the baron.

"Welcome back, Edward!" he said; "welcome back! you look remarkably well! I have to apologize, Maria," he added, turning to his sister after this brief salutation bestowed upon his son, "I have to apologize for coming thus, without notice; but I have some business to-morrow, down at the park-house, of which I knew nothing till this morning; and I also wished to see Edward, whose devoirs here," and he turned towards Marian, "I knew must first be paid, according to all the rules of gallantry. How are you, my fair niece? You look a little pale. How are you, Isadore?" And the peer, without waiting to hear how any one was, cast his eyes upon the ground, and fixing upon a spot in the carpet, seemed calculating geometrically the precise measurement of all its strange angles.

"We were just going to supper, my lord," said Mrs. Falkland; "will you come with us? But first let me introduce you to Colonel Manners." Lord Dewry acknowledged the introduction by a cold bow, while Manners said some words of course; and the question of supper being renewed, the n.o.bleman agreed to go down with the party to the table, though he bestowed a word or two of heavy censure on the meal they were about to take.

"It is, nevertheless," said Colonel Manners, "from its very hour, the most sociable one of the whole day; for by this time, in general, all the cares, and annoyances, and labours of the busy daylight are over; and, as is justly observed--I forget where--'nothing remains for us but enjoyment and repose.'"

"Eating and sleep!" muttered Lord Dewry; "the delights of a hog and a squirrel;" but as what he said did not seem intended to be heard, Colonel Manners made no reply, though he did hear it; and the party seated themselves round the supper-table, in walking towards which these few sentences had pa.s.sed. For some time the presence of the peer seemed destined to cast a gloom over the society in which he had so suddenly appeared. His manner even here, in the midst of his nearest relations, and by the side of his newly-returned son, was cold, stern, and gloomy, only broken by some flash of cynical scorn for things that other people valued, or by some biting sneer at the follies and weaknesses of his fellow-creatures.

To his niece Marian de Vaux, however, his conduct was very different.

At table he placed himself by her side; made an evident effort to render himself agreeable to her; and whenever he spoke to her softened his tone, and endeavoured to call up a smile. Such was his conduct on the present evening; but it maybe necessary also to stretch our view over the past, for his behaviour to his niece had always formed a strange contrast to his conduct towards others. The first effect of her presence, when he had not seen her for some time, was almost always to throw him into a fit of deep gloom; and those who watched him narrowly might have remarked his lip move, as if he were speaking to himself, though no sound was heard. From this fit of abstraction he generally roused himself soon, but it was evidently at the cost of great efforts; and then he would speak to his niece with a degree of tenderness which bordered on timidity, and treat her with attention approaching to gallantry. Any one who saw him in conversation with her might easily conceive him to have been the fascinating and courtly man that report had represented him in his younger days; and there was a kindness and gentleness in his whole demeanour towards her, which, together with the family name that she bore, had often caused her to be taken for his daughter. Nevertheless, even across the moments when he seemed exerting himself to please her, would break occasionally the same fits of gloom, called up by apparently the least calculated to produce any such effect. They were then always brief, however; and a seemed that the original exertion to conquer the dark feelings which the first sight of his niece appeared to arouse, was sufficient to hold all the rest in check.

It was only to her, however, that he was thus gentle. Her presence made no difference in his conduct towards others; and the moment his attention or his speech was called from the conversation with his niece, he seemed to become a different being,--dark, stern, and overbearing.

Such a demeanour, of course, was not calculated to promote any thing like cheerful conversation; and the atmosphere of his gloom would have affected all those by whom he was surrounded, and extinguished every thing like pleasure for that night, had it not been for the counteracting influence of Colonel Manners. He, without the slightest touch of obtrusiveness or self-conceit, by a just estimation of himself and others, was always in possession of his own powers of mind; and never suffered the presence of any other individual--unless, indeed, it was that of one whom he could at once admire and love--to give a tone to his behaviour, to restrain him in what he chose to say, or to frighten him from what he chose to do.

He took the tone of his conversation from his own heart, and from its feelings at the time; and, guarded by fine sensibilities, good taste, knowledge of the world, and a refined education, there was not the slightest fear that he would ever give pain to any one whose approbation he valued. Of all this he was himself well aware; and, after a few moments given to something like wonder at the character of Lord Dewry, he proceeded in the same manner as if such a person had not been in existence.

Isadore Falkland, as soon as she found that such powerful support was prepared for her, boldly resisted the influence of her uncle's presence also. Mrs. Falkland, whose naturally strong mind was not unfitted to cope with her brother, held on the even tenour of her way; and Edward de Vaux joining in, the conversation soon became once more general and cheerful. It had taken another turn, however; and the subject had become the mutual adventures of Colonel Manners and Edward de Vaux, in the war which was then raging between France and England in North America. Many was the wild enterprise, many the curious particular, that they had to speak of; "hair's breadth escapes and perils imminent"--scenes and persons quite fresh and strange to Europeans; a new world, and all that a new world contained, with a system of warfare totally different from any thing that had ever been seen on the older continents. At that time, neither a barbarous policy nor a criminal negligence had produced any of those lamentable results which are rapidly exterminating the Indian nations of America: but, at the same time, a most barbarous policy had--instead of endeavouring to civilize and soften the dusky natives of the woods, the real lords of the land--had engaged them, with all their fierce and horrid modes of warfare, in the contention between the two great bands of European robbers, who were struggling for the country that really belonged to the savage. Of these Indian nations, and of their wild habits, both Manners and De Vaux spoke at large; and many a strange scene had they witnessed together among the uncultivated woods and untamed people of the transatlantic world.

Often, too, Manners, with kind and friendly zeal, would make Edward de Vaux the hero of his tale; and while he related, as if he were speaking of ordinary events, some gallant exploit or some n.o.ble action, would suffer his eye to glance for a single instant, unperceived, to the countenance of Marian de Vaux; it was generally calm and tranquil--beautiful, but still; yet occasionally, when the moment of danger or of interest came, and when Edward extricated himself gallantly from some difficult or dangerous situation, there was a bright light beamed up in her eyes, a long-drawn breath, and a flickering colour, which satisfied Manners that all was well.

Nevertheless, Manners could not, of course, speak of his friend's adventures without a little delicate man[oe]uvring, in order to make the tale appear more a general than a personal one; nor could he continue the subject long. Often, therefore, he returned to the Indians, and often to the state of America in general, while Mrs.

Falkland and her daughter gave him, by manifold questions and observations, full opportunity of varying the subject _ad libitum_.

They sought to know, among other facts, what link of connection could possibly have sprung up between the Indians and the Europeans so strong as to make the savage nations have any feeling of regard or interest towards either of the countries which only struggled to monopolize the means of plundering and destroying them.

"Oh, you must not think, my dear madam," answered Colonel Manners, "that all persons who visit America are actuated by one selfish motive, or pursue one system of fraud and oppression towards the Indians. On the contrary, there are many who go over there with the philanthropic motive of civilizing and benefiting the savage tribes themselves; and who, in the endeavour to effect this object, display a degree of wisdom, perseverance, judgment, and courage, that is quite astonishing. Nor are these qualities without the most immense effect upon the wild aborigines of the land, who look up to such men almost as they would to a G.o.d. De Vaux and I know a very remarkable instance of the kind, in one of the most n.o.ble-spirited and excellent of human beings, to whom we are both under no small obligations. He nursed me through a long and severe fever, when my senses were quite gone; and afterward enabled me, by his influence with the Indians, to render your nephew some small service--which, however, was entirely attributable to his exertions."

"Nay, nay, Manners," replied De Vaux; "to yours as much as his, and more; for had you not ventured, at the head of a party of Indians, two hundred miles into a hostile country, not a step of which you knew--"

"Well, well, De Vaux," answered his friend, "you must own that he went with me, though he did not know you, and I did. You must not take away from the merit of my hero, for such I intend to make him in these ladies' eyes. I know not, however, how you will like a hero of sixty, Miss Falkland; but such, I must confess, he is at least. He has now lived for many years, upon the very borders of civilization, or rather beyond it, for his house is surrounded by forests and Indian wigwams.

He has never taken any part in the contentions of the tribes, and seems equally venerated by all, showering good and blessings upon the heads of every one who approaches him. He is deeply versed in the laws and the manners of the natives, too; and, though a finished and elegant scholar and gentleman, conforms when necessary, to their usages, in a manner that is at once amusing and admirable. He is, at the same time, the most skilful and indefatigable hunter that the world, perhaps, ever produced,--an accomplishment which renders him still more venerable in the eyes of the Indians, who, on account of all these qualities, have named him 'The White Father.'"[2]