The Maroon Part 44

Observing this abstracted air, which he had often before remarked, he did not think of attributing it to any other cause than that which his vanity had already divined. Kate Vaughan was in love; and with whom but himself?

His sympathetic soul was ready to give way; and he was almost on the point of departing from the programme which he had so ingeniously traced out. But the remembrance of the pretty speeches he had rehea.r.s.ed with Thoms--and the thought that any deviation from the original design would deprive him of the pleasure of witnessing the effects which they must undoubtedly produce--restrained him from a premature declaration, and he remained silent.

It did not hinder him from some unspoken reflections.

"Poor queetyaw! evidently suffwing! Neithaw distance nor absence can make the slightest impwession upon her love--not the slightest. Ba Jawve! I feel more than half-inclined to bweak the spell, and reweive her fwom her miseway. But no--it would nevaw do. I must wesist the temptation. A little more suffwing can do no harm, since the situation of the queetyaw wesembles the pwoverb: 'The darkest hour is that which is neawest the day.' Haw! haw!"

And with this fanciful similitude before his mind, the sympathetic and self-denying lover concluded his string of complacent reflections; and returning the gla.s.s to his eye, once more occupied himself in ogling the eclipse.

The young Creole, seeing him thus engaged, withdrew to one side; and placing herself on the very edge of the cliff, stood gazing outward and downward. It was evident that the grand celestial phenomenon had no attraction for her. She cared neither to look upon the sun, nor the moon, nor the stars that would soon be visible in the fast-darkening sky. Her eyes, like her thoughts, were turned upon the earth; and as the penumbra began to cast its purple shadow over the fair face of Nature, so could a cloud be seen overspreading her beautiful countenance.

There was now deep silence below and around. In a few seconds of time a complete change had taken place. The uttering of the forest was no longer heard. The birds had suddenly ceased their songs, and if their voices came up at intervals, it was in screams and cries that denoted fear. Insects and reptiles had become silent, under the influence of a like alarm. The more melancholy sounds alone continued--the sighing of the trees, and the sough of the distant waterfall. This transformation reminded Kate Vaughan of the change which had taken place in her own heart. Almost equally rapid had it been--the result of only a few days, or perhaps only hours: for the once gay girl had become, of late, habitually grave and taciturn. Well might she compare her thoughts to the forest sounds! The cheerful and musical were gone--those that were melancholy alone remained!

For this change there was a cause, not very different from that which Smythje had divined. He was right in a.s.signing it to that pa.s.sion--the most powerful that can dwell in a woman's heart.

Only as to its object did Mr Smythje labour under a misconception. His self-conceit had guided him to a very erroneous conjecture. Could he have divined the thoughts at that moment pa.s.sing in the mind of his companion, it would have completely cured him of the conceit that he was the maker of that melancholy.

The mansion of Mount Welcome was in sight, gaily glittering amidst gorgeous groves. It was not upon it that the eyes of Kate Vaughan were bent; but upon a sombre pile, shadowed by great cotton-trees, that lay in the adjoining valley. Her heart was with her eyes.

"Happy Valley!" soliloquised she, her thoughts occasionally escaping in low murmur from her lips. "Happy for _him_, no doubt! There has he found a welcome and a home denied him by those whose duty it was to have offered both. There has he found hospitality among strangers; and there, too--"

The young girl paused, as if unwilling to give words to the thought that had shaped itself in her mind.

"No," continued she, unable to avoid the painful reflection; "I need not shut my eyes upon the truth. It is true what I have been told--very true, I am sure. There has he found one to whom he has given his heart!"

A sigh of deep anguish succeeded the thought.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, resuming the sad soliloquy; "he promised me a strong arm and a stout heart, if I should ever need them. Ah, me!

promise now bitter to be remembered--no longer possible to be kept! And the ribbon he was to prize so highly--which gave me such joy as he said it. Only another promise broken! Poor little souvenir! no doubt, long ere this, cast aside and forgotten! ah, me!"

Again the sigh interrupted the soliloquy. After a time it proceeded:--

"'We may never meet more!' These were almost his last words. Alas! too prophetic! Better, now, we never should. Better this than to meet him--with her by his side--Judith Jessuron--his wife--his wife--oh!"

The last exclamation was uttered aloud, and with an undisguised accent of anguish.

Smythje heard it, and started as he did so--letting the sun-gla.s.s fall from his fingers.

Looking around, he perceived his companion standing apart--unheeding as she was unheeded--with head slightly drooping, and eyes turned downward upon the rock--her face still bearing the expression of a profound anguish which her thoughts had called forth.

The heart of Smythje melted within him. He knew her complaint--he knew its cure. The remedy was in his hands. Was it right any longer to withhold it? A word from him, and that sad face would be instantly suffused with smiles! Should that word be spoken or postponed?

Spoken! prompted humanity. Spoken! echoed Smythje's sympathetic heart.

Yes! perish the cue and the climax! Perish the fine speech and the rehearsal with Thoms--perish everything to "relieve the deaw queetyaw fwom the agony she is suffwing!"

With this n.o.ble resolve, the confident lover stepped up to the side of his beloved, leaving a distance of some three feet between them. His movements were those of a man about entering upon the performance of some ceremonial of the grandest importance; and to Mr Smythje, in reality, it was so.

The look of surprise with which the young Creole regarded him, neither deterred him from proceeding, nor in anywise interfered with the air of solemn gravity which his countenance had all at once a.s.sumed.

Bending one knee down upon the rock--where he had dropped the gla.s.s--and placing his left hand over the region of his heart, while with the right he had raised his hat some six inches above his perfumed curls, there and then he was about to unburden himself of that speech, studied for the occasion--committed to Smythje's memory, and more than a dozen times delivered in the hearing of Thoms--there and then was he on the eve of offering to Kate Vaughan his hand--his heart--his whole love and estate--when just at this formidable crisis, the head and shoulders of a man appeared above the edge of the rock, and behind, a black-plumed beaver hat, shadowing the face of a beautiful woman!

Herbert Vaughan!--Judith Jessuron!

Volume Two, Chapter XIV.

THE OBSCURATION.

"Intawupted!" exclaimed Smythje, briskly restoring his person to its erect position. "What an infawnal haw!" he continued, drawing out his handkerchief, and dusting the knee on which he had been kneeling. "I wondaw who are the intwoodaws? Aw! ah! It's the young fellaw, yaw cousin! Shawly it is; and--a--a pwetty girl with him--a dooced pwetty girl, ba Jawve!"

A satirical t.i.tter, loud enough to be termed a laugh, was heard issuing from between the white teeth of the Jewess. It somewhat discomfited Smythje: since he knew that the satire could only be pointed at the ridiculous _tableau_ just broken up, and of which he had himself been the conspicuous figure. His _sang froid_, however, did not quite forsake him, for the c.o.c.kney possessed considerable presence of mind-- the offspring of an infinite superciliousness. This at the moment came to his relief, bringing with it an idea that promised to rescue him from his embarra.s.sment. The spy-gla.s.s lying upon the rock suggested the idea.

Dropping back upon his knee--in an att.i.tude similar to that from which he had just arisen--he took up the telescope, and, once more rising to his feet, presented it to Kate Vaughan, as she stood bent and blushing.

The _ruse_ was well intended, and not badly executed; but Mr Smythje had to deal with one as cunning as himself. It was of no use endeavouring to throw dust in the keen, quick eyes of Judith Jessuron; and the laugh was repeated, only in a louder and more quizzical tone.

It ended in Smythje himself joining in the laughter, which, under the circ.u.mstances, was the very best course he could have pursued.

Notwithstanding the absurdity of the situation, Herbert did not seem to share in his companion's mirth. On the contrary, a shadow was visible upon his brow--not that produced by the gradually deepening twilight of the eclipse--but one that had spread suddenly over his face at sight of the kneeling Smythje.

"Miss Vaughan!" p.r.o.nounced the Jewess, springing lightly upon the rock, and, with a nod of recognition, advancing towards the young Creole and her companion; "an unexpected pleasure this! I hope we are not intruding?"

"Not at all--nothing of the sawt, I ashaw yaw," replied Smythje, with one of his profoundest bows.

"Mr Smythje--Miss Jessuron," interposed Kate, performing the duty of introduction with dignified but courteous politeness.

"We have climbed up to view this eclipse," continued Judith. "The same errand as yourselves, I presume?" added she, with a glance of quizzical malignity directed towards Kate.

"Aw, yes! sawtinly!" stammered out Smythje, as if slightly confused by the innuendo of the interrogative. "That is pwecisely the pawpose which bwought us heaw--to view this cewestial phenomenon fwom the Jumbe Wock.

A spwendid observatowy it is, ba Jawve!"

"You have had the advantage of us," rejoined Judith. "I feared we should arrive too late. Perhaps, we are soon enough?"

The satirical tone and glance were reiterated.

Perhaps Kate Vaughan did not perceive the meaning of this ambiguous interrogatory, though addressed to her even more pointedly than the former; at all events, she did not reply to it. Her eyes and thoughts were elsewhere.

"Quite in time, Miss Jessuwon!" answered Smythje. "The ekwipse is fawst a.s.suming a most intewesting phase. In a few minutes the sun will be in penumbwa. If yaw will step this way, yaw may get a bettaw standing-place. Pawmit me to offaw yaw the tewescope? Aw, haw!"

continued he, addressing himself to Herbert, who had just come forward, "aw, how do, ma fwiend? Happy to have the pwesyaw of meeting you again!"

As he said this, he held out his hand, with a single finger projecting beyond the others.

Herbert, though declining the proffered finger, returned the salutation with sufficient courtesy; and Smythje, turning aside to attend upon Judith, escorted her to that edge of the platform facing towards the eclipse.

By this withdrawal--perhaps little regretted by either of the cousins-- they were left alone.

A bow, somewhat stiff and formal, was the only salutation that had yet pa.s.sed between them; and even for some seconds after the others had gone aside, they remained without speaking to each other.

Herbert was the first to break the embarra.s.sing silence.