"Be it so, my dearest; you shall know no
restraint that I can
save you from. Do not think too hardly of Sir Frederick for
this,--it is an
excess of passion."
Isabella waved her hand impatiently.
"Forgive me, my child--I go--Heaven bless thee. At eleven--if
you call me not before--at eleven I come to seek you."
"When he left Isabella she dropped upon her knees--"Heaven aid me
to support the
resolution I have taken-- Heaven only can--O, poor
Earnscliff! who shall comfort him? and with what
contempt will
he pronounce her name, who listened to him to-day and gave
herself to another at night! But let him
despise me--better so
than that he should know the truth--let him
despise me; if it
will but
lessen his grief, I should feel comfort in the loss of
his esteem."
She wept
bitterly; attempting in vain, from time to time, to
commence the prayer for which she had sunk on her knees, but
unable to calm her spirits
sufficiently for the exercise of
devotion. As she remained in this agony of mind, the door of her
apartment was slowly opened.
CHAPTER XV.
The darksome cave they enter, where they found
The woful man, low sitting on the ground,
Musing full sadly in his
sullen mind. FAERY QUEEN.
The
intruder on Miss Vere's sorrows was Ratcliffe. Ellieslaw
had, in the
agitation of his mind, forgotten to countermand the
order he had given to call him t
hither, so that he opened the
door with the words, "You sent for me, Mr. Vere." Then looking
around--"Miss Vere, alone! on the ground! and in tears!"
"Leave me--leave me, Mr. Ratcliffe," said the
unhappy young lady.
"I must not leave you," said Ratcliffe; "I have been
repeatedly
requesting admittance to take my leave of you, and have been
refused, until your father himself sent for me. Blame me not, if
I am bold and intrusive; I have a duty to
discharge which makes
me so."
"I cannot listen to you--I cannot speak to you, Mr. Ratcliffe;
take my best wishes, and for God's sake leave me."
"Tell me only," said Ratcliffe, "is it true that this monstrous
match is to go forward, and this very night? I heard the
servants
proclaim it as I was on the great staircase--I heard the
directions given to clear out the chapel."
"Spare me, Mr. Ratcliffe," replied the luckless bride; "and from
the state in which you see me, judge of the
cruelty of these
questions."
"Married? to Sir Frederick Langley? and this night? It must not
cannot--shall not be."
"It MUST be, Mr. Ratcliff, or my father is ruined."
"Ah! I understand," answered Ratcliffe; "and you have sacrificed
yourself to save him who--But let the
virtue of the child atone
for the faults of the father it is no time to rake them up.--What
CAN be done? Time presses--I know but one remedy--with four-and-
twenty hours I might find many--Miss Vere, you must
implore the
protection of the only human being who has it in his power to
control the course of events which threatens to hurry you before
it."
"And what human being," answered Miss Vere, "has such power?"
"Start not when I name him," said Ratcliffe, coming near her, and
speaking in a low but
distinct voice. "It is he who is called
Elshender the Recluse of Mucklestane-Moor."
"You are mad, Mr. Ratcliffe, or you mean to
insult my
misery by
an ill-timed jest!"
"I am as much in my senses, young lady," answered her
adviser,
"as you are; and I am no idle
jester, far less with
misery, least
of all with your
misery. I swear to you that this being (who is
other far than what he seems)
actually possesses the means of
redeeming you from this
hateful union."
"And of insuring my father's safety?"
"Yes! even that," said Ratcliffe, "if you plead his cause with
him--yet how to
obtain admittance to the Recluse!"