The Missing Bride Part 10

For who had been Jacquelina's educators?

First, there was the commodore, with his alternations of bl.u.s.tering wrath and foolish fondness, giving way to his anger, or indulging his love, without the slightest regard to the effect produced upon his young ward--too often abusing her for something really admirable in her nature--and full as frequently praising her for something proportionately reprehensible in her conduct.

Next, there was the dark, and solemn, and fanatical Dr. Grimshaw, her destined bridegroom, who really and truly loved the child to fatuity, and conscientiously did the very best he could for her mental and moral welfare, according to his light. Alas! "when the light that is in one is darkness, how great is that darkness!" Jacquelina rewarded his serious efforts with laughter, and flattered him with the pet names of Hobgoblin, Ghoul, Gnome, Ogre, etc. Yet she did not dislike her solemn suitor--she never had taken the matter so seriously as that! And he on his part bore the eccentricities of the elf with matchless patience, for he loved her, as I said, to fatuity--doted on her with a pa.s.sion that increased with ripening years, and of late consumed him like a fever.

And then there was her mother, last named because, whatever she should have been, she really was the least important of Jacquelina's teachers.

Fear was the key-note of Mrs. L'Oiseau's character--the key-stone in the arch of her religious faith--she feared everything--the opinion of the world, the unfaithfulness of friends, changes in the weather, reverses of fortune, pain, sickness, sorrow, want, labor!

Now the time had not yet come for this proposed marriage to shock the merry maiden. She was "ower young to marry yet."

So thought not the commodore; for a year past, since his niece had attained the age of fourteen, he had been worrying himself and the elders of the family to have the marriage solemnized, "before the little devil shall have time to get some other notion into her erratic head,"

he said. All were opposed to him, holding over his head the only rod he dreaded, the opinion of the world.

"What would people say if you were to marry your niece of fourteen to a man of thirty-four?" they urged.

"But I tell you, young men are beginning to pay attention to her now, and I can't take her to church that some jackanapes don't come capering around her, and the minx will get some whim in her head like Edith did--I know she will! Just see how Edith disappointed me! ungrateful huzzy! after my bringing her up and educating her, for her to do so!

While, if she had married Grim when I wanted her to do it, by this time I'd have had my grandchil--! I mean nieces and nephews climbing about my knees. But by ----! I won't be frustrated this time!"

And so Jacquelina was kept more secluded than ever. Secluded from society, but not from nature. The forest became her haunt. And a chance traveler pa.s.sing through it, and meeting her fay-like form, might well suppose he was deceived with the vision of a wood-nymph.

The effervescent spirits of the elf had to expend themselves in the same way. As a child she had ever been as remarkable for surprising feats of agility as for fun, frolic, mischief, and _diablerie_. And every one of these traits augmented with her growth. Feats of agility became a pa.s.sion with her--her airy spirit seemed only to find its full freedom in rapid motion in daring flights, in difficult achievements, and in hair-breadth escapes. Everything that she read of in that way, which could possibly be imitated, was attempted. She had her bows and arrows, and by original fitness, as well as by constant practice, she became an excellent markswoman. She had her well-trained horse, and her vaulting bars, and made nothing of flying over a high fence or a wide ditch. But her last whim was the most eccentric of all. She had her lance. And, her favorite pastime was to have a small ring suspended from a crossbeam, and while riding at full speed, with her light lance balanced in her hand, to catch this ring and bear it off upon the point of that lance.

In feats of agility alone she excelled, not in those of strength--that airy, fragile form was well fitted for swiftness and sureness of action, yet not for muscular force. Her uncle and Grim indulged her in all these frolics--her uncle in great delight; Grim, under the protest that they were unworthy of an immortal being with eternity to prepare for.

In these five past years, Cloudesley had been at sea, and had only returned home once--namely, at the end of the stated three years. He had been received with unbounded joy by his child-friend; had brought her his outgrown suit of uniform; had spent several months at Luckenough, and renewed his old delightful intimacy with its little heiress presumptive, and at length had gone to sea again for another three years' voyage. And it must be confessed that Jacquelina had found the second parting more grievous than the first. And this time Cloudesley had fully shared her sorrow. He had been absent a year, when, upon one night the old mansion, that had withstood the storms of more than two hundred winters, was burned to the ground!

The fire broke out in the kitchen. How, no one knew exactly.

Be the cause as it may, upon the evening of the fire Jacquelina had gone to her room--she had an apartment to herself now--and feeling for the first time in her life some little uneasiness about her uncle's "whim"

of wedding her to Grim, she had walked about the floor for some time in much disquietude of mind and body; then she went to a wardrobe, and took out Cloudy's treasured first uniform, and held it up before her. How small it looked now; why, it was scarcely too large for herself! And how much Cloudy had outgrown it! It had fitted him nicely at sixteen, now he was twenty-one, and in two years more he would be home again! Smiling to herself, and tossing her charming head, as at some invisible foe, she said:

"Yes, indeed. I should so like to see them marry me to that ogre Grim!"

She pressed the cloth up to her face, and put it away, and, still smiling to herself, retired to rest, to dream of her dear playmate.

She dreamed of being in his ship on the open sea, the scene idealized to supernatural beauty and sublimity, as all such scenes are in dreams; and then she thought the ship took fire, and she saw, and heard, and felt the great panic and horror that ensued.

She woke in a terrible fright. A part of her dream was true! Her chamber was filled with smoke, and the house was chaotic with noise and confusion, and resounded with cries of "Fire! Fire!" everywhere.

What happened next pa.s.sed with the swiftness of lightning. She jumped out of bed, seized a woolen shawl, and wrapped it around her head, and even in that imminent danger not forgetting her most cherished treasure--Cloudy's suit of uniform--s.n.a.t.c.hed it from the wardrobe and fled out of the room. Her swift and dipping motion that had gained her the name of "Lapwing" now served her well. Shooting her bright head forward and downward, she fled through all the pa.s.sages and down all the stairs and out by the great hall, that was all in flames, until she reached the lawn, where the panic-stricken and nearly idiotic household were a.s.sembled, weeping, moaning and wringing their hands, while they gazed upon the work of destruction before them in impotent despair!

Jacquelina looked all around the group, each figure of which glared redly in the light of the flames. All were present--all but the commodore! Where could the commodore be?

Jacquelina ran through the crowd looking for him in all directions. He was nowhere visible, though the whole area was lighted up, even to the edge of the forest, every tree and branch and twig and leaf of which was distinctly revealed in the strong, red glare.

"Where is uncle? Oh! where is uncle?" she exclaimed, running wildly about, and finally going up to Mrs. Waugh, who stood looking, the statue of consternation.

Jacquelina shook her by the arm.

"Aunty! aunty! Where is uncle? Are you bewitched? Where is uncle?"

"Where? Here, somewhere. I saw him run out before me."

"No, you didn't! You mistook somebody else for him. Oh, my Lord! he is in the burning house! he is in the house!"

"Oh, he is in the house! he is in the house!" echoed Henrietta, now roused from her panic, and wringing her hands in the most acute distress. "Oh! will n.o.body save him! will n.o.body save him!"

It was too late! Commodore Waugh was in the burning mansion, in his bedchamber, near the top of the house, fast asleep!

"Good heaven! will no one attempt to save him?" screamed Henrietta, running wildly from one to the other.

They all gazed on each other, and then in consternation upon the burning building, every window of which was belching flame, while the sound of some falling rafter, or the explosion of some combustible substance, was continually heard! To venture into that blazing house, with its sinking roof and falling rafters, seemed certain death.

"Oh! my G.o.d! my G.o.d! will none even try to save him?" cried Henrietta, wringing her hands in extreme anguish.

Suddenly:

"Pray for me, aunty!" exclaimed Jacquelina, and she darted like a bird toward the house, into the pa.s.sage, and seemed lost in the smoke and flame!

Wrapping her woolen shawl closely about her, and keeping near the floor, she glided swiftly up the stairs, flight after flight, and through the suffocating pa.s.sages, until she reached her uncle's door. It was open, and his room was clearer of smoke than any other, from the wind blowing through the open window.

There he lay in a deep sleep! She sprang to the bedside, seized and shook the arm of the sleeper.

"Uncle! uncle! wake, for G.o.d's sake, wake! the house is on fire!"

"Hum-m-m-e!" muttered the old man, giving a great heave and plunge, and turning over into a heavier sleep than before.

"Uncle! uncle! You will be burned to death if you don't wake up!" cried Jacquelina, shaking him violently.

"Humph! Yes, Jacquelina! um--um--um--Grim! um--um--Luckenough!"

muttered the dreamer, flinging about his great arms.

"Luckenough is in flames! Uncle! wake! wake!" she cried, shaking him frantically.

"Ah! ha! yes! d--d little rascal is at her tricks again!" he said, laughing in his sleep.

At that moment there was the sound of a falling rafter in the adjoining room. Every instant was worth a life, and there he lay in a sodden, hopeless sleep.

Suddenly Sans Souci ran to the ewer; it was empty. There was no time to be lost! every second was invaluable! He must be instantly roused, and Jacquelina was not fastidious as to the means in doing so!

Leaping upon the bolster behind his great, stupid head, she reached over, and, seizing the ma.s.s of his gray, grizzly beard, she pulled up the wrong way with all her might, until, roaring with pain, he started up in a fury, and, seeing her, exclaimed:

"Oh! you abominable little vixen! is that you: Do you dare! Are you frantic, then? Oh, you outrageous little dare-devil! Won't I send you to a mad-house, and have you put in a strait-jacket, till you know how to behave yourself! You infernal little wretch, you!"

A sudden thought struck Sans Souci to move him by his affection for herself.

"Uncle, look around you! The house is burning! if you do not rouse yourself and save your poor little 'wretch,' she must perish in the flames!"

This effectually brought him to his senses; he understood everything! he leaped from his bed, seized a blanket, enveloped her in it, raised her in his arms, and, forgetting gout, lameness, leg and all, bore her down the creaking, heated stairs, flight after flight, and through the burning pa.s.sages out of the house in safety.