-. 

 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 I*

 
 ' Then through a veil of dreams, 
 
 Woven by thought, truth's youthful beauty glows. 
 And life's redundant and rejoicing streams 
 Give to the soulless soul, where'er it flows."
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY: 
 
 TALES 
 
 , ftifftrif; anfr Dmriptiue. 
 
 MARY J. WINDLE. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 C. SHERMAN, PRINTER, 
 
 1850.
 
 
 Jr filliBiif f igts 
 
 1202O39
 
 THE authoress of the following stories has been induced 
 i 
 
 to allow their publication in their present compact form, 
 from consideration of the extent and duration of the 
 favour which has been unexpectedly extended to them, 
 when modestly peeping out amidst the brilliant contri 
 butions by which the chief monthly magazines of this 
 country are so deservedly distinguished. The hope is 
 entertained, that what gave pleasure in an imperfect 
 and broken form may, in completion, not give less. 
 Should the reader chance to find scope for enjoyment 
 in these collected labours of many days, the writer will 
 have had her purpose accomplished ; and without re 
 garding this present approbation as an absolute pledge 
 of future favour, will be incited to more mature endeavours
 
 Vlll PEEFACE. 
 
 to add to the available enjoyments of domestic leisure. 
 Relinquishing all thoughts of a fantastic and needless 
 brilliancy, she has applied herself to the task of imparting 
 instruction and pleasure, ready to be satisfied if, in the 
 main, these writings minister to human sympathies. 
 
 M. J. W. 
 
 Wilmington, Delaware, 1850.
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE HUGUENOT, 13 
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN, 99 
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK, 133
 
 THE HUGUENOT.
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 n gu en 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "Now through the harmonious meads 
 One glimmering path, or lost in forest leads, 
 Or up the winding hill doth labouring climb 
 The single street that rural world dividing. 
 O'er the smooth stream the quiet rafts are gliding; 
 And through the lively fields, heard faintly, goes 
 The many sheep-bells' music and the song 
 Of the lone herdsman, from its still repose 
 Rouses the gentle echo ! Calm along 
 The stream, gay hamlets crown the pastoral scene, 
 Or peep through distant glades, or from the hill 
 Hang dizzy down ! Man and the soil serene 
 Dwell neighbour-like together and the still 
 Meadow sleeps peaceful round the rural door 
 And, all-familiar, wreathes and clusters o'er 
 The lowly casement, the green vine's embrace, 
 As with a loving arm, clasping the gentle place." 
 
 THERE are portions of this beautiful world that seem, 
 through all the vicissitudes of time, to have retained their 
 primeval loveliness ; which, with their gushing streams, 
 
 * The term Huguenot was given to the French Protestants; the 
 origin of the term has never been found out. Their religion was a 
 simple form of worship, in which the preachers expounded the Holy 
 Scriptures in their vernacular tongue, and assured the congregation 
 
 2
 
 14 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 and hills, and plants, and forests, do verily sing for joy. 
 How true is it that nature never ceases to respect her 
 early handiwork ! The children whom she has chanced to 
 glorify with beauty at the first, she will never fail to tend; 
 those once neglected, she is likely to neglect evermore. 
 As we gaze upon her choicest scenes, we readily image to 
 ourselves the same reposeful magnificence as when 
 
 " The earth rested quiet, 
 And poised in the air, 
 And heaven's blue bosom 
 Lay naked and bare." 
 
 The soul unfolds itself with a new sense of freedom, and 
 becomes beguiled of all its earthward tendencies and cares. 
 It is no slight charm to the story I am about to pen, 
 that its first chapter opens upon one of the most delightful 
 provinces of southern France a province exhibiting every 
 variety of picturesque scenery, from wavelike undulations 
 of land, and streamlets that look like veins of silver as 
 
 that their worship, to be accepted, must proceed from the heart. 
 A congregation of these people was privately established at Meaux, 
 in one of the southern provinces of France, in the year 1513, and their 
 doctrines made so much progress that the lordly proprietor of that dis 
 trict, a violent and sanguinary man, became alarmed, and made such 
 representations before the Parliament of Paris, that an edict against 
 the heretics was published in 1520. It was then decreed that they 
 should be exterminated as rebels, and their goods confiscated. Most 
 of them fled to Switzerland, taking refuge in the mountainous districts 
 of Piedmont, where, in the shadows of the lonely hills, they could serve 
 God in secret. There for the space of three hundred years we shall 
 find them continuing to carry on the unbroken line of Protestantism 
 in France. Browning's History of the Huguenots.
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 15 
 
 they run, to fantastic promontories capped by knolls of 
 shady trees, and, where not lashed by waterfalls, bound in 
 by flowers and mosses. To behold this rare paradise, the sun, 
 moon, and stars look through a low, warm, mellow sky, 
 the want of clearness in which is atoned for by the many 
 lustrous tints that trace themselves continually upon its 
 surface. And if to the chastened radiance of its days, 
 and the undisturbed tranquillity of its nights, the pro 
 vince of Dauphin^ be presumed to possess the charms of 
 a smiling season, the reader most probably knows sufficient 
 to induce the wish one day to wander thither. Nay, shall 
 we not together realize the fulness of its beauty, even as 
 in a dream; and, forgetful of present time and surround 
 ing circumstances, enter one of those deep winding valleys 
 for which Dauphin^ is so remarkable. The entrance to 
 that we now select may be poetically compared to the pas 
 sage leading to the famous grotto of Antiparos. It is not, 
 you perceive, such a vale as the ridges of two opposing 
 mountains usually form ; the irregularity of its course, 
 together with its narrowness and ruggedness, are sugges 
 tive of a former convulsion. To gather up the materials 
 for a geological lecture is, however, not our purpose ; 
 neither do we intend to encourage one abstracted thought. 
 The charms of solitude are various press we on ; we 
 will have to take good care of our footing, for the pathway 
 is narrow, and, as poets say, choked. We are treading 
 the topmost branches of trees that trend down till they 
 meet the foaming stream that has its course below, and 
 there they bend over to touch, as if to do a human kind 
 ness, the lowest of the opposite ascending ranks. Above
 
 16 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 us, what a scene ! The branches of bygone centuries still 
 giving out their sheltering leaves, still becoming animated 
 when the air is set in motion. Those patches of blue sky, 
 how sweet they seem ! Listen to us, ye fairy elves ! that 
 wander up and down these woodland aisles, catching the 
 blossoms as they fall, or waiting patiently for the seeds 
 that fall, and that must be buried. . Listen to us ! we also 
 are Arcadians. We have chosen the silence of your place 
 for leagues of plains covered with spire-crowned villages 
 and joyous vintages; and share in your thrill of exultation. 
 that we too could live in these airy halls ! 
 
 The scene scarce changes as we advance if not the 
 same trees, the same verdure, and chinks, and rivulets, 
 and flowery vegetation, all seeming like a cleft in the 
 heart of the great world. And now we come upon a ruined 
 cottage, and another, and another ; and as we journey on, 
 lo ! midway from the foliage below, rises the ivy-covered 
 tower of a buried church. 
 
 Ah, now there seems a stillness in the valley, another 
 meaning in its bounding shadows. The sound of the 
 stream beneath, in its rocky bed, is like a voice of wail, 
 and the moan of the giant trees is only expressive of un 
 utterable agony. Let us rest awhile beneath yon ruined 
 porch the prey of that slow and decrepit workman whom 
 men call time. We will there too recite the story that 
 hangs over this deserted spot. It relates to a time when 
 conscience had no permitted liberty ; when a government, 
 generous in all things else, would not, by the exertion of 
 any influence, incline itself to the amendment of the stern 
 decree requiring all the inhabitants of France to be of the
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 17 
 
 same religious creed, or, at least, so well to comply in 
 practice with its forms, as not to be distinguishable from 
 the true worshippers. Any departure from the general 
 faith was, at this period, visited with the severest penalty 
 that could lie between bodily chastisement with the con 
 fiscation of goods, and the high penalty of death. Indeed, 
 those who would not bow to its requisitions were deemed 
 the worst of traitors, sworn enemies to political unity. 
 
 Divine Truth, who is never far from man, however 
 oppressed and however blinded, and who ever discovers 
 herself to those who truly and earnestly seek her, turned 
 her neglected footsteps towards the homes of these pure- 
 hearted cottagers, to teach them that the time had come 
 when the Father would be worshipped, neither with vain 
 oblations nor splendid ceremonials, but in spirit and in 
 truth. 
 
 In one home after another, by some quickening, invisible 
 influence, the blessed word was taken in ; and presently, 
 around a new-formed centre, they united themselves in 
 sacred fellowship to this religion, so pure and separate 
 from whatever man himself might plead. 
 
 A few rods hence we discern the frame of a cottage 
 clasped by luxuriant foliage, and beautified with flowers, 
 like some hallowed relic. This was the house of their 
 minister he who, with them, had studied in simplicity of 
 spirit the holy word, and with them had taken up his lot. 
 That cottage was the place where, for a time, the villagers 
 safely met together, to take sweet counsel in each other's 
 company, and seek the blessing of Heaven on their homes 
 and hearts. The summer that witnessed this eventful 
 
 2*
 
 18 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 change, passed noiselessly and happily away. Autumn 
 came, and the harvests of the steeps and on the plains 
 above were more luscious and abundant than they had 
 ever been before. And still, as each morning flung its 
 light along the vale, they bent their steps towards the 
 place of prayer and rest, anxious to enjoy the pure com 
 munion of a perfect faith. This revival of religious hope 
 affected none more than the aged pastor ; his faculties, that 
 had been becoming gradually dimmed, now appeared to 
 receive a fresh and permanent invigoration a new glad 
 ness lighted up his countenance, and an inexpressible ten 
 derness such as might have distinguished the Saviour of 
 men, the chief Shepherd of the sheep irradiated his eyes. 
 Sitting at the casement of that lowly cot, so picturesquely 
 perched beneath the shelter of a high, rocky cliff, he would 
 watch, with a fatherly interest, the villagers as they came 
 up the ascent, one by one, children, and maidens, and vigo 
 rous manhood. Between him and the members of his 
 flock there reigned that happy confidence which disposes 
 to a mutual interest and love. That aged pastor had long 
 been held as one with them ; his voice was their guidance, 
 his approval their best reward. His position and character, 
 however, were by no means extraordinary. There were 
 many such pastors then in France men who, if, like Fene- 
 lon, under the influence of customs which tradition had 
 sanctified, and unsuspicious of the spell which bound them, 
 laboured with a zeal, a simplicity and sense of duty not 
 unworthy of the apostolic age ; seeking as they did to 
 draw, though by many hindrances, those who as yet had 
 not been numbered in the Christian fold. All memory of
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 19 
 
 these may have disappeared ; yet this is no cause for with 
 holding from them this passing tribute to their piety and 
 zeal; from acknowledging that the 
 
 " Labours of the just 
 
 Smell sweet and blossom in the dust." 
 
 As the valley was being bereft of its last varied verdure, 
 and the stream below became lessened and more confined, 
 the villagers felt creeping over them a saddening spirit, 
 premonitory of more than autumnal decay, or of wintry 
 quietness. It was the sadness which comes over those 
 who are leaving the solitudes of their youth ; such a sadness 
 as when the heart-strings are 
 
 
 
 " Left low trailing," 
 
 and can clasp nothing earthly for a sure dependance. To 
 the calm serenity of countenance that distinguished them 
 as they gathered in their pastor's home, was added an 
 anxious and grave expression, indicative of some exterior 
 apprehension. It was not to be supposed that their with 
 drawal from the communion of a church that claimed for 
 itself universal dominion, and knew not even the name, or 
 suspected the possibility of exercising religious toleration 
 with any advantage to itself, would calmly view its solemn 
 rites and splendid ceremonials thus supplanted. The very 
 rusticity of the Huguenots for so they were called was 
 one of the strongest arguments for their immediate expo 
 sure, and, if need were, their condign punishment. It 
 could not be brooked that men without any learning, with 
 out any pretension to conversance with ecclesiastical his-
 
 20 TKUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 tory, should thus impeach the past traditions and present 
 witness of a church that, together with its gorgeous and 
 priestly hierarchy, with emperors as its subjects, and 
 nations as its communicants, could point to the gorgeous 
 cathedral of the middle ages, in testimony of that devotion 
 in which tens of thousands, now in their graves, had 
 esteemed its worship. 
 
 Tidings of the heretical disposition of the inhabitants of 
 the valley were not long in travelling over the distance of 
 half a league, and inciting the inquiry of the curd who 
 presided over the parish of Beauvais. The individual who 
 conveyed these tidings was none other than Kichelieu, the 
 old sexton of that older church, and who, finding his occu 
 pation quite gone, had, for several months, experienced 
 considerable uneasiness. This man was a strange com 
 pound of innocence and superstition ; kind-hearted in 
 disposition, but wilful in his prejudices; though obser 
 vant of all that was transpiring in the valley, he had 
 endeavoured as long as he could to keep silent. Sabbath 
 after Sabbath he rang out the brazen chimes in the tower ; 
 carefully as ever was the high altar set, and the whole mate 
 rial paraphernalia dusted : it was not his fault truly that 
 none came in. 
 
 The change of sentiment had been as general as it was 
 thorough, and the old sexton, too deaf to hear, and too 
 dull to comprehend the meaning of the change, would walk 
 up antl down the aisles of the sacred edifice, muttering to 
 himself, and taking care to look as gloomy as possible. 
 He it was, who, wearied of this state of things, and perhaps 
 alarmed at the thought of suspicion attaching to himself
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 21 
 
 as being concerned in the dismemberment, thought it high 
 time to give notice to the reverend curd, who had oversight 
 of the adjoining parish. It was one bright morning that 
 he set out on the unwelcome mission ; his way led over a 
 district of country almost uninhabited a vast manorial 
 possession of the house of D'Angouleine. The sexton 
 would immediately have proceeded to the mansion a high 
 and irregular Gothic building, that rose in gloom and 
 beauty from a deep and narrow strip of woodland but 
 that he preferred consulting the temperate judgment of a 
 clerical adviser, to that of a man whose passions were 
 capable of being infuriated, on occasions when his own 
 interest, reputation, and honour were concerned, even to 
 madness. On and on, therefore, he went, feeling himself 
 to be the messenger of evil tidings, and sadly grieving 
 that there was no one else on whom to lay the burden. 
 
 At this period, when a knowledge of letters was confined 
 to few, and a king's post was almost the only kind of post 
 known, the most complete isolation was wont to charac 
 terize even neighbouring villages ; through want of a 
 sufficient intercommunication, interests the most diverse 
 would grow up side by side, creating sometimes a compla 
 cent pride, more often a mutual jealousy and permanent 
 ill-will. 
 
 Almost instinctively finding out the parsonage, the sex 
 ton opened its little wicker-gate, and, walking up its 
 gravelled pathway, espied the curd sitting with a Latin 
 tome upon his knee, in a bower of myrtle trees. The 
 tramp of a pair of wooden-soled shoes, that hung heavily 
 at the feet of the worthy sexton, immediately drew the
 
 22 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 attention of the cure", who, rising up, welcomed the old 
 man in with a sort of familiar glance. 
 
 "And what may be the matter, Richelieu?" said the 
 cure". 
 
 "Little, little," answered the old sexton, willing to 
 smooth the way to a full and absolute confession ; " but 
 times in the valley are not as they have been a curse 
 seems to hang over it. The bell tolls, but, after it ceases 
 to sound, all again is very silent very silent ! I can 
 scarce tell what may be the matter ; but ban there is ; and 
 though every secular day is as heretofore, the Sabbath and 
 holy days are quite neglected." The sexton uttered these 
 words with unusual energy, and his eyes wore the appear 
 ance of great earnestness. 
 
 "You do not take me by surprise," remarked the cure*; 
 " I have had already some inklings of the matter, and 
 even a request has been made to the higher ecclesiastical 
 authorities to institute an inquiry into the subject. I had 
 not supposed, however, that more than a few had become 
 affected by the new doctrines. Heresy is a contagious 
 disease, however. Well, our purpose for the present is to 
 keep quiet, to give no warning of the intended movement. 
 You have done your duty, and may now return." 
 
 The old man, to tell the truth, was very much surprised 
 at these words, and would gladly have entered into some 
 explanation, some extenuating circumstance which might, 
 in some measure, shield the villagers ; but observing in the 
 curd a dislike to the entire subject, and an evident unwil 
 lingness further to recur to it, he hobbled back as he had 
 come to his old governmental post, valued at the good and
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 23 
 
 satisfactory, though very small sum of three hundred 
 francs a year. Ah ! how the deceitfulness of riches, or 
 even of a sure competency, "will at times choke the word. 
 The church and state that gave to the worthy sexton food 
 to eat and raiment to put on, must needs be very good ; 
 it never entered his heart even to question this, and those 
 who did so question it had his most sincere commiseration. 
 Whether the secret intelligence that the old man brought 
 back with him was not in its turn anticipated, is not cer 
 tain. His own peering eyes observed on the morrow the 
 most unmistakeable sign of alarm, and, with all his loyal 
 feelings excited, he more than suspected the concertment of 
 general measures of resistance. But it was none of his 
 business to observe this ; his yesterday's journey would 
 free him from all harm, and others might manage the 
 State Commissioners as they were best able.
 
 24 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 "Here is peace, said I, 
 In man's abode, in earth, in air, and sky ; 
 But the heart shrinketh from his death-like rest. 
 
 ***** 
 Something stirred." 
 
 WORDSWORTH. 
 
 THE unusual stillness of the succeeding morning was that 
 which, as we have noted, first startled the sexton. Look 
 ing up along the steeps, he saw no being astir ; the sun 
 rose high, but the ripe grapes still hung on the vines, and 
 the song of the birds was free and shrill. We have told 
 how quickly and for what reason the good sexton composed 
 himself; had he taken any trouble, or, indeed, had he 
 risen any earlier, he might have traced the families, for 
 whose spiritual welfare he had so lately concerned himself, 
 to the house of their minister, to that same large and sha 
 dowy room, which, adorned with rustic simplicity, seemed 
 the fit studio for one who had devoted himself to the 
 service of Heaven. Here were they gathered together; 
 the Bible lay closed ; and earnest consultation was being 
 held as to the measures of safety requisite to be taken in 
 the emergency their proceedings had brought about. Many 
 difficulties had to be considered, many objections overcome. 
 Clouds and darkness emphatically lay round about them, 
 and there was evident need of consummate judgment as 
 well as of the exercise of firm and determined bravery.
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 25 
 
 The Huguenotic mothers watched earnestly the counte 
 nances of their husbands, now engaged in strong debate, 
 reading thus all they had to hope, and all to fear. A 
 mighty stake was already ventured. In accepting the faith 
 once delivered to the saints, the Huguenots had accepted 
 all its perils. Whilst thus conferring, a tap was heard at 
 the door. Instant stillness ensued. The tap was steadily 
 repeated at proper intervals of time, and all doubt being 
 removed, the door was opened. There entered a rustic pea 
 sant girl, whose beautifully defined features, clear blue eyes, 
 and sweet expression, were calculated to inspire an immea 
 surable love. She was the daughter of one of the poorest 
 of the villagers, but by her goodness had so won the con 
 fidence of the aged pastor that he feared not to commit to 
 her many missions of importance, as well as many visits of 
 consolation, which his duties or his infirmities prevented 
 him from making. She had been received at the chateau 
 as the especial companion of the Duke D'Angouleine's 
 two accomplished daughters. She had imparted to them a 
 portion of her guileless spirit and native grace ; they had 
 given to her that refinement which, added to nature's 
 charms, is ever so engaging. So remote indeed was that 
 feudal habitation from any great city, and so complete its 
 loneliness, that to one far less amiable than this young pea 
 sant girl, its doors might have gladly been opened. The 
 education of Annie that was the name she went by had 
 been conducted under the immediate supervision of the 
 pastor, a circumstance which had placed her far in advance 
 of many gifted with superior advantages, talents, and am 
 bition. Her charms were of that spiritual order which the
 
 26 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 cultivated mind and well-directed heart only can properly 
 appreciate. If not made for seclusion, she nevertheless 
 rejoiced in pursuing unobtrusively her way; neither look 
 ing to the right hand nor to the left, so that she might do 
 good while each day lasted, and commend herself tran 
 quilly to God, as she lay down to each night's brief, transi 
 tory rest. The expression of her face had a pure and 
 almost seraphic sweetness, such as we are accustomed to see 
 in likenesses of the Madonna. The dimpling play of her 
 young and lovely features was sometimes lighted up with a 
 sweet surprise, though seldom sparkling with the keenness 
 of unrestrained joy. The childlike, yet not undignified, 
 grace of her form, was moreover in perfect keeping with the 
 beauty of her countenance. 
 
 No sooner had Annie entered the crowded room than 
 she glided to the table and received from the pastor a small 
 note with the whispered request to deliver it to her friend 
 at the chateau. She took the note, gently kissed the ex 
 tended hand, and without word or visible sign to any one 
 present, immediately retired. The conference thus slightly 
 interrupted was now continued with renewed earnestness. 
 Immediate action of whatever kind had been resolved on ; 
 and though the various propositions suggested were indi 
 cative of various degrees of judgment, each proposition 
 proved conclusively the good faith of its author, and a readi 
 ness to make any sacrifice required for the adoption of the 
 one which should be finally approved. 
 
 The civil court of France being at this time bound up 
 with the ecclesiastical, it was necessary to anticipate the 
 movement of political policy on this matter, as well as the
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 27 
 
 sure stroke that would reach them on being excommuni 
 cated from the church. From neither could they hope for 
 any favour, and from neither was there any appeal. No 
 conditions of peace would be allowed, except that of the 
 unconditional surrender of private judgment to arbitrary 
 canons. They were thus compelled by every necessity to 
 decide without delay. 
 
 Any painter anxious to exhibit the Huguenots in their 
 spirit and in their faith at that moment of time when their 
 condition had assumed the highest point of interest, might 
 by the transcript of those thus gathered in the pastor's 
 room, have realized his object. Old and young those 
 whose many wrinkles told of the heavy burden of their 
 day, and those whom life had not yet shaded with sorrow 
 or care children and maidens, were together here, but 
 the thrill that went through all when the final verdict was 
 given must ever lie beyond the range of human pen. Even 
 the babe on its mother's bosom seemed to share the emo 
 tion it occasioned, and every face became pallid with na 
 tural grief. Too weak to resist the force that would be 
 opposed to them, there appeared only one mode of deliver 
 ance, that of instantaneous flight. 
 
 " Perchance," exclaimed the old man, their pastor, 
 whilst every eye shone with tears and the bravest hearts 
 beat against their prison walls, " Perchance, after a few 
 years of exile, a kind Providence may permit us to return. 
 Only with the present have we to do. The advice given 
 to the dwellers in Judea is now given to us ' Flee ye to 
 the mountains.' ' 
 
 " There nature will be on our side," interrupted an old
 
 28 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 peasant who sat near; "the fastnesses of the Alps will 
 hold out against all the battalions of France." 
 
 Inspired by this sudden appeal to the most animated of 
 all natural feelings, and this outspoken dependence on a 
 powerful ally, the whole assembly commenced chanting the 
 hymn: 
 
 Though drearily, and wearily, and mournfully, and slow, 
 Towards a far off spot our exiled footsteps go ; 
 Across that track of dismal length our hearts shall never roam, 
 But still evade oppression's strength, and lingering dwell at home. 
 Yes ! nobly free our hearts shall be, nor share the outward chain, 
 The soul preserves its liberty, though crushed and bowed with pain. 
 We trust '" -", yet unknown, with calm, courageous breast, 
 For right Heaven still makes His own the cause of the oppressed.
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 29 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " And not a word by her was spoken ; 
 For many a listener's ear wag by, 
 But surely was the silence broken, 
 For eye could well interpret eye." 
 
 THE old chateau of Dauphins' had just been burnished 
 by the morning sun that gilded it with a glory that must 
 surely in the olden time have delighted its first inhabi- 
 ters (and even now, as the new glory plated the battle 
 ments, and was flung back from the shining ^~ Cements, it 
 served to grace its deep retired and soliu jnajesty), 
 when Annie Lorraine rose from her little cot and glided 
 noiselessly to the apartment of Alicia D'Angouleine, the 
 youngest daughter of the Duke D'AngouleJne. In her 
 trembling fingers, white as the lily, was the note she had 
 undertaken to deliver, but which she had deferred from the 
 previous night to a more convenient season. That moment 
 had arrived ; and now her hand was laid upon the door, 
 and she passed gently in. Had Alicia been awake, she 
 might have deemed herself visited by some bright angel. 
 The curtain of the narrow Gothic window flung its crim 
 son beams upon her, and as she moved towards the bed, en 
 compassed her with a rosy halo. 
 
 "Alicia, wake ! I have a message for thee. It is in this 
 note. Let me draw back the curtains that you may read 
 it." 
 
 Alicia was in the light slumber such as a gentle and 
 
 3*
 
 30 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 loved voice is sure to waken. She looked trustfully up 
 and faintly smiled. Annie, bending low, kissed the red lips 
 of the late beautiful sleeper, -who forthwith raised herself, 
 took the note, and opened out its unsealed folds. 
 
 Annie turned her head aside and waited patiently for a 
 word from her companion, "whose delicate sensibility had 
 imparted to a most gentle character an unreservedness as 
 charming as it was sincere. 
 
 "Alas! alas!" was her broken exclamation, as she sank 
 back on the cushioned pillows, the lightness and ampleness 
 of which afforded some resistance. " My dear home to be 
 left ! my name to be forgotten ! Can it must it be thus ? 
 what would support us in these trials, if we might not 
 flee to our blessed Saviour?" 
 
 "Annie could not be a witness to her friend's grief, and 
 left the room. Alicia rose, and dressed, and opened the 
 eastern window to which the warm waves of morning air 
 were flowing. She there paused a moment ; and as though 
 suddenly strengthened and calmed by the intervention of 
 some holy thought, she exclaimed, in a tone full of quiet 
 ness and peace, as she looked towards the burning beams 
 that played amidst the tendrils of the vine that encased 
 the window, "Beautiful day! your light is to me like the 
 smile of Heaven. How I would love to play amidst your 
 brightness, so peaceful and serene. May God give me a 
 willing heart to obey his summons." 
 
 As Alicia extended her gaze to the wide landscape, now 
 exhibiting a thousand pastoral beauties, she felt a sensa 
 tion of pleasure thrill through her frame for which she 
 could hardly account. It was the aid given by Heaven in
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 31 
 
 that trying hour, preventing her from realizing that soon 
 the beautiful scene would be no more than a loved memory 
 that the place that now knew her should know her no 
 more for ever. To a young heart like her own, the full 
 grief of banishment was almost incomprehensible. Un 
 like those who at the first shock of adversity, know all, 
 feel all, she was one who from the yearnings of her own 
 spirit, would ever seek to gather up, day by day, new 
 tokens of love from those around her. Even now, while 
 home was not yet left, the heavenly promises that could 
 sustain her must have been very near her guardian and 
 invisible angel doubtless sheltering her with his bright 
 pinions. This much she was conscious of, that there was 
 less suffering involved in an immediate departure with the 
 Huguenots, than in lingering behind under the searching 
 evidence of bereft affection. She could not bear to hear 
 the voices that had breathed so kindly speak in harsh and 
 unforgiving tones the tones which follow on the wrong 
 that time takes not away. Her thoughts magnified her 
 present fears, while her hopes those swiftest of all mes 
 sengers, and whose purpose is to fulfil the heart's behests 
 brought within a very short compass the period of her 
 exile. Yes, she would return on a happier day. Perhaps 
 when her present attachment to the Huguenotic faith 
 should be praised, or even, if still held to have erred, she 
 might be forgiven. Like a Peri on the verge of Para 
 dise, she thought she heard pronounced the certainty of a 
 quick return. Ah ! most lovely girl, beyond thy father's 
 home the world is un winsome and its glances are cold. No 
 trees are like those thou viewest no sportful shadows half
 
 32 - TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 so beautiful. There is more in the small compass of thy 
 present chamber than the eye can see; attachments of 
 which thou scarce dreamest to exist will break, and oh, 
 how hardly will they be broken! 
 
 The meditations of Alicia were interrupted by the 
 approach of her sister Blanche, who bade her in a voice 
 of more than usual joyousness descend into the breakfast- 
 room. Alicia instantly turned, and impressing a sweet 
 kiss on her sister's proffered lips, did as she was bidden. 
 When about crossing the great hall, the two sisters encoun 
 tered Annie, whom they mutually greeted. The Duke had 
 preceded them, and at the time of their entrance was look 
 ing out on the large lawn and wood of oaks spreading far 
 into the distance. To the beauty of such a scene facing the 
 chateau, was added the capacity for its enjoyment. In the 
 possession of a highly cultured taste, the family of the 
 Duke, with himself, were more than ordinarily privileged. 
 It was this that made that remote abode so delightful, and 
 amply compensated for many of those luxuries and com 
 forts which were pouring at this period into France from 
 the transalpine regions. This increase of refinement had 
 the effect of spurring those who most prided themselves 
 in the manly vigour of a bygone age, to renew its wild and 
 lusty sports ; and many were the wild hunts which the 
 nobility, banding together according to the respective pro 
 vinces in which their domains were situated, would enter 
 on, and this with a zeal as warm as when the necessity of 
 warding off danger compelled men to leave their quiet 
 homes, and engage in the arduous chase. Except on such 
 occasions occasions of infinite pleasure, and always
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 33 
 
 abounding with merriment the chateau to any passing 
 stranger would have appeared melancholy and lonely. The 
 valley of the Huguenots was completely out of sight, and 
 over the wide landscape, to the very verge of the horizon, 
 there appeared nothing to break the stillness, except the 
 flutter of the eagle in its swoop, the bleating of flocks, or 
 the falls of the winding stream, a landscape, that with 
 its golden and sombre hues, its sweet variety of aspect, 
 might gladly have employed the genius of Poussin in his 
 later years; for it had ruins too and ivied towers, the 
 remnants of military structures and bridges, over which 
 occasionally some solitary wayfarer only, or a party of 
 gay cavaliers, or some country team laden with country 
 produce, or sonqp officious bearer of despatches would occa 
 sionally pass. 
 
 Blanche immediately on entering the breakfast-room, 
 half buried herself in the velvet cushions of an antique 
 chair, and in it lay at rest with her eyes closed, as though 
 absorbed in some bright dream. The Duke leaned on the 
 high Gothic window-sill, looking on the prospect with an 
 absent but serious air. 
 
 As soon as Alicia had paid her respects to her father, 
 she glided out of the room to converse with Annie. She 
 had scarcely disappeared, when the Duke, turning to 
 Blanche, said abruptly, 
 
 " What change is this that has come over your sister 
 lately?" 
 
 " I know not, papa," was the disturbed reply of Blanche 
 to a question, the solution of which was equally interest 
 ing to herself. " I have noticed of late in Alicia many
 
 84 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 strange deviations from her accustomed habits. Tell me, 
 has it not occurred to you, papa, that her relaxed interest 
 in her daily duties, together with her repeated visits to 
 the valley, originate in a cause not purely accidental ? For 
 myself, my suspicions are attracted towards Annie, who, 
 though she never refers to the subject, is, I am persuaded, 
 imbued with Huguenotic fancies ; I fear, that she is endea 
 vouring to shake the faith of Alicia, to weaken her confi 
 dence in the established church. If so, she should have 
 no further opportunity of impressing her heretical prin 
 ciples on the unsuspecting mind of my lovely sister." 
 
 The Duke had no opportunity of immediate reply, for the 
 door at that moment opened, and Alicia together with Annie 
 entered. ' A glance of pride lighted up the father's features 
 as his eyes rested on his beautiful child. Of the daughters 
 of France there might be some of more pretensions, but 
 none of more serene and perfect beauty than existed in the 
 form and countenance of Alicia. So delicate was the order 
 of her loveliness, so pure and soft her complexion, that 
 her appearance gave almost certain token of fragile health. 
 Her eyes, which were of a deep blue, had a thoughtful and 
 serene expression, while her forehead was of the finest 
 Grecian form. The tone of her mind resembled her fea 
 tures ; it was a mind well balanced, thoughtful, and ele 
 vated. As one could not look upon the loveliness of her 
 face and turn away without regret, so those able to appre 
 ciate her beauty of intellect could not withdraw from its clear 
 and rich fountains without feeling a desire to linger there 
 perpetually, and enjoy their freshness. And what gave 
 an additional charm to Alicia, was the delight she had in
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 35 
 
 applying her superiority of mind to the improvement of 
 those with whom she had partially connected herself; in 
 their faith -wholly. She lived but to do good ; and religion 
 in directing all her acts to works of benevolence had added 
 to her native charms, charms more ennobling. 
 
 Alicia quickly perceived by the sudden silence her en 
 trance had occasioned, and the changed looks of Blanche, 
 that she had been the subject of conversation. Guided by 
 intuitive discretion, she gently approached her father, and 
 placing a hand upon his arm, she fondly kissed his brow. 
 Her look of affection subdued at once the severity of his 
 feelings, for he instantly checked himself in what, if not 
 thus interrupted, might have terminated in a stern reproof, 
 and caressed her with more than ordinary affection. 
 
 Alicia smiled, but how sadly ! Soon the last kiss 
 would be given; soon the loved form of her father would 
 fade away fade away as the dead fade, unheard and 
 unseen. 
 
 This was the day on which the Duke anticipated the ar 
 rival of his son from Paris, together with a few friends, the 
 proprietors of not far distant estates. The Chamber of 
 Peers, to which by imperial prerogative, his son had been 
 appointed contrary to usual custom if not to former pre 
 cedents, had just closed a most important and exciting ses 
 sion. Unfurnished as the Duke was with any daily journal 
 or monthly bulletin of parliamentary proceedings the gift 
 of later times he had no choice but to wait patiently for 
 his son's return in order to gather information on those 
 points of decision which more or less were likely to affect
 
 36 TKUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 his interests. It is unnecessary to state here the cause of 
 his own absence from the capital. 
 
 The sun, though high in heaven, had not yet had time to 
 consume the dew of night, when the Duke D'Angouleine, 
 with Blanche and Alicia, who, with himself, were gaily 
 mounted, he on a fleet and fiery courser, they on discreet 
 and nimble palfreys, issued by the eastern gate of the cha 
 teau. After entering the basin of verdure that lay below, 
 girded by continuous ranges of wide-set trees, they pursued 
 the direction in which the visiters would certainly be met. 
 Early as they were, they were yet too late not to meet 
 many a woodman at his solitary work, stripping branches 
 bare, or making the earth to ring with strong and sturdy 
 blows. 
 
 " They come ! they come !" was the joyful expression of 
 Blanche, as she detected, by her nice sense of sound, the 
 approach of steeds. Our party immediately increased their 
 pace, and in a few moments, through the opening of the 
 trees, other forms were visible. It was evident that both 
 parties were now putting their steeds' mettle to the test. 
 The long expected ones were approaching. They were 
 meeting, and they met. 
 
 The son of the Duke, with his fine athletic form and manly 
 bearing, was the exact prototype, in these respects, of his 
 father. Yet it was easy for the most casual glance to dis 
 cover, that the features of the son were less prominent and 
 less severe. It was plain, too, that care, either of family 
 interests, or of the nation, had had little power to gloom 
 the heyday of a still joyous youth. As with dexterous skill
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 37 
 
 he obtained, without dismounting, and while almost in full 
 gallop, the salute of a kiss from each of the fair sisters, his 
 cheeks glowed with pride, and his elegant form, as he righted 
 in the saddle, could not but excite admiration. 
 
 Whilst one of Victor's companions, after making a pro 
 found obeisance, closed in with the Duke, the other seemed 
 disposed to renew the feat we have recorded of the brother, 
 and in a trice his lips pressed those of Alicia, who, in 
 the excitement of the meeting, had not yet found words to 
 speak. It was the Count Louis. But there is a fulness of 
 joy above the expression of words. The looks of Alicia told 
 all ; and her lover, reining up by her side, breathed fonder 
 words than may here be written. Incessantly the gay 
 voice of Blanche was heard from where she was rallying her 
 brother on some deficiency of promise, or trying the strength 
 of his memory or the exactness of his knowledge on some 
 affair in which she seemed more than slightly interested. 
 But the two lovers, Alicia and the Count, heeded neither 
 voice nor sound ; absorbed in their own joyous conversings, 
 which, so far from being stayed by further emotion, seemed 
 now to flow in a deeper and more tranquil channel. 
 
 At a signal from the Duke, the journey so near com 
 pletion, was continued: but there was no more haste. 
 Gently they went on, as those who had no more to seek ; 
 nor as they passed beneath the shadows of the chateau did 
 any sombre thought appear to come upon them. A few 
 embrowned peasants, who, at a short distance from the 
 party, were gathered up to see the glad array, after many 
 expressions of joy, spoke to each other of the brilliant con- 
 
 4
 
 38 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 trast of colour afforded by the rich dresses of the strangers 
 against the dark, shaded walls of the chateau. 
 
 Strange is it, that in every country excepting France, 
 Spain, and Italy, the magic of colour should almost be unob 
 served ; that whilst the humblest peasant of the Provencal 
 provinces can find a pleasure in light and shade, in the hues 
 of heaven and the hues of earth, we ask for more, even for 
 special artistic applications, before we will put on a smile ; 
 refusing in this, though in nothing else, to be guided by 
 the senses. 
 
 The entrance of the company into the chateau, was by 
 no means the signal for that intense activity which so many 
 writers have delighted to describe as accompanying every 
 movement of their heroes and their heroines, thus throw 
 ing around their subject an interest completely adventi 
 tious. Preparations for the reception of the guests had 
 been made on a large scale, and their entrance was so far 
 from discomposing the establishment, as to seem but as the 
 fitting complement to the entertainment it afforded. 
 
 Breakfast again was spread, and the ease and grace with 
 which Blanche and Alicia waited on the noble guests, was 
 certainly calculated to impress them with the goodness of 
 heart that dictated each slight attention, and the beauty 
 which adorned and enhanced its value. It was plain to see 
 that the visiters promised themselves unlimited pleasure : 
 indeed, before they rose from table, plans were formed 
 both for the present and for ensuing days. Blanche, appa 
 rently, had the most inventive, perhaps we should say 
 directive, genius. She it was who undertook to allot the
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 39 
 
 task of each successive hour ; and truly, if all she promised, 
 and she promised nothing that was not completely practi 
 cable, was to be fulfilled, the guests might well be pardoned 
 for evincing their delight. The inhabitants of France have 
 always been distinguished by the warmth of their imagina 
 tion : this it is which clothes for them with more than an 
 earthly light every object on which they set their hearts. 
 These emotions may be evanescent, but are not, on this 
 account, so long as they last, less real. 
 
 "Well, Victor," said the Duke, breaking into some gay 
 conversation that his son was holding with Blanche ; " what 
 of the Bill* in relation to these villagers, and those affected 
 by the like heretical complaint ? I had meant that my 
 first question should have referred to it ; for certainly our 
 interest in it is not to be slighted." 
 
 " The Bill, as originally formed," replied Victor, "re 
 ceived much opposition. I verily believe that the tempe 
 raments of men change so soon as they get within the walls 
 of Paris. All there is so gay, so mild and bland, that 
 kind, nay weak, impulses are certain to pervert the good 
 liest judgment. Is it not so, Louis ?" 
 
 * The following were the principal features of this Bill : 
 
 It prohibited Huguenotic worship under severe penalties. 
 
 It ordered all Huguenotic ministers to quit the kingdom within fifteen 
 days, and to abstain from preaching, under pain of condemnation to the 
 galleys. 
 
 It forbid schools for the instruction of their children. 
 
 They might continue their trade and enjoy their property, on condi 
 tion only of abstaining from worship. 
 
 Browning 's History of the Huguenots.
 
 40 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 Sir Louis bowed to the question after a parliamentary 
 fashion, but could pay no further attention to the inquiry; 
 for Alicia, the lovely being who had filled his mind during 
 the last seven months, whose letters, the reflexes of her 
 own pure thoughts, had filled up every vacuity, she was 
 still engaging him; and, in the myriad of questions he 
 obliged her to answer, she seemed to speak a thousand times 
 more enchantingly. 
 
 The Duke still waited for the desired information. 
 "The Bill to which you refer," continued Victor, "in its 
 first form could not gain even so much as a lengthy 
 debate. The premises on which its framers had relied, the 
 body of the Assembly would not assent to. It was affirmed 
 in opposition, that though the Huguenots were arch traitors, 
 they were few in number, and, therefore, not to be dreaded, 
 provided precautionary measures were taken to prevent 
 the increase, or to cause a wide-spread knowledge of their 
 vile tenets. I could not repress my chagrin at this phase 
 of opinion. It exhibited a coolness quite incompatible 
 with true Catholic devotion. And so amendment after 
 amendment was adopted, till nothing was gained but the 
 expulsion of these people from our country, and the con 
 fiscation of their property. I wish we might apply to them 
 Nebuchadnezzar's test of a fiery furnace," continued the 
 son, in a manner, the reverentialness of which was 
 strangely in contrast with the uttered thought. 
 
 "It is well," replied the Duke, "though, indeed, in ex 
 pelling the inhabitants of the adjoining valley, we make a 
 somewhat heavy sacrifice. \Ye shall never get such excel-
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 41 
 
 lent labourers. The peasants, elsewhere, are too generally 
 lax in morals and dissolute in manners ; and such kind, in 
 the absence of the Huguenots, we are like to get. It is we, 
 I say, who make the sacrifice. Had extreme and active 
 punishment been summarily inflicted, the most would have 
 recanted, and we should have kept them all. But it is not 
 so. Their hearts, maddened by this forced desertion from 
 their native homes, will only rebel still more against the 
 religion they desert ; and the tears they shed they will 
 deem as offerings at the shrine of martyrdom. Let them 
 go, however, where they will, and die out." 
 
 "But they may not go where they will," replied the 
 son, " and I am very sure that they will never die out. 
 There must be some earth-born principle of nature that 
 aids them, vain-glory, obstinacy, or combativeness ; for 
 the uniformity of their agreement on all points, despite 
 their years and sinister purposes, is such as to appear, at 
 least, remarkable." 
 
 "I trust you took care, Victor," said the Duke, "to 
 convey to the members of government a strong impression 
 of the light in which we view them. There is something 
 ominous in having heretics so near. They may well be 
 suspected of tainting the air for miles around." 
 
 " I have done this ; I have cleared our house," continued 
 Victor, " from the shadow of suspicion of having, in any 
 form, aided or encouraged this defection ; and yet, and 
 yet," he continued, "there maybe one who is not alto 
 gether guiltless." 
 
 Victor cast a deep and searching, and, thougli he had 
 
 4*
 
 42 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 not intended it, a somewhat angry look at Alicia ; who, 
 while catching up a word here and there to know the 
 current of her lover's thoughts, had been intently listening 
 to the dialogue which we have traced. 
 
 "I am much mistaken," rejoined the Duke, "if his 
 Majesty, in endeavouring by this extraordinary clemency 
 to avoid one evil, does not bring on his kingdom a greater 
 one. I have noted, and noted closely, the effect of leniency 
 on the public will. The public are restive, and, as the 
 good Bishop of Rouen would say, must be held in with bit 
 and bridle." 
 
 This remark may serve to show the characteristic fea 
 tures of that lordly mind. The Duke had been brought 
 up to understand the tenets of the Church in their most 
 stringent application ; and was, in spirit, literally the most 
 rigid and intolerant of men. It is hard to say whether 
 ancestral veneration had or had not any influence in 
 deepening his religious impressions ; certain it is that he 
 had his forefathers in constant remembrance, and, in 
 occasional allusions, was ever most wont to boast of their 
 religious achievements, whether in the Holy Land, or on 
 the soil of France itself. 
 
 "Good care I took, as I have said," replied Victor, in 
 a careless and satisfied air, " that the king and his minis 
 ters should not remove from us one iota of confidence. In 
 fact, I think I may say, that we have rather gained than 
 lost, so far as the effect of the recent discussion on their 
 minds is concerned." 
 
 " What part did you take ?" said the Duke.
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 43 
 
 " That of a listener, and nothing more. Looks are 
 more than words ; sometimes they tell more than votes ; 
 as it was, I saw from the first which way the wind blew, 
 and thought it prudent to go with it. There was in truth 
 no choice. To have urged further any rigorous penalties, 
 would have been to excite the more sympathy for the here 
 tics on the part of the members of the Assembly. 
 
 " Don't be too vituperative," added the Duke, who, 
 with a temperament not much cooler, had the advantage 
 of experience, and whose assertions, whether given in the 
 Chamber of Peers, or in the quietude of a rural and un 
 ostentatious life, were always grave. 
 
 Victor ceased speaking, but plainly evidenced some 
 spleen yet unexhausted, and cast what appeared reproach 
 ful glances towards his youngest sister. 
 
 "Why are you gazing on me so intently?" said Alicia. 
 
 Victor made no answer, but turned away his face, now 
 clouded by a bitter frown. 
 
 The mild, entreatful inquiry, and this sullen look of 
 response, struck the attention even of her lover; and a 
 silence which none seemed to like, but which all helped to 
 continue, took the place of the former animated conversa 
 tion. 
 
 The sun was now flinging his warm and golden splen 
 dour on the green carpet of verdure, over which moved 
 the shadows of rustling boughs. Alicia rose, and quickly 
 advancing to the eastern window, threw it open, and 
 waving her hand to the Count, stepped without. Her 
 lover was not long in obeying what he chose to take
 
 44 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 for granted was an invitation to follow. On stepping 
 without on the wooden balcony, that ran along almost on a 
 level with the summit of the slope, he saw Alicia at one 
 extremity, bending over the rail, and seeming to wish to 
 hide the emotion which her brother's sudden look might be 
 suppposed to have excited. As with the sensitive plant, 
 the least hurt was sure to injure her. But it was not the 
 look that most affected her, the meaning look that told how 
 well he had been informed, while in Paris, of her religious 
 predilections, and how ready he was to resent the indignity 
 which he thus imagined to be given to himself, and the 
 proud house of which he was a scion. It was that this 
 little circumstance was the first completely to summon 
 her to a sense of her actual position ; of the penalty of 
 disfavour she had incurred the certain disaffection of a 
 fond brother, who from childhood had humoured her in all 
 her moods, and who in every possible way had sought to 
 exhibit his regard. 
 
 Victor, on the other hand, was of too generous a nature 
 long to harbour resentment, however just might be its 
 occasion. He was as forgiving as he was impulsive ; traits 
 of character continually found together, the one vainly 
 seeking to undo what the other recklessly, and yet with a 
 thought of after repentance, accomplishes. Spurred by a 
 generous impulse, he followed his sister, who was descending 
 the slope in company with her lover, and having plucked 
 from the ground, with a readiness and propriety that might 
 have done honour to an eastern imagination, the flower 
 whose symbolic language is that of reconcilement, he
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 45 
 
 handed it to her with a kind look, and without waiting for 
 a reply, disappeared, perfectly satisfied with this effort at 
 compensation, and half blaming himself, that he had cre 
 dited so fully the statement of Blanche, as to his sister's 
 defection from the established Church, convinced as he was, 
 that she had neither strength of disposition, nor force of 
 mind, to resist the main arguments for the Catholic faith, 
 when once these were properly adduced ; and satisfied, also, 
 that even if she was rebellious, a gentle and urgent admo 
 nition would be sufficient, if not to subdue her actual senti 
 ments, at least to restrain their expression.
 
 46 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 "Thoughts by the soul conceived in silent joy, 
 Sounds often uttered by the timid voice 
 Till we at last are pleased or self-deceived!" 
 
 ALICIA and her lover exchanged not a word until they 
 reached the foot of the slope. Here a deep, clear, run 
 ning stream compelled them to pause. This stream, edged 
 by light and graceful willows, that enclosed between them 
 selves a narrow path, along which the lovers glided, almost 
 completely hid them from the sight of parties in the cha 
 teau ; certainly there was no danger of having their mutual 
 revealings overheard. 
 
 The Count, whom much travel had liberalized, to the 
 extent of allowing every one, without let or hindrance, to 
 exercise private judgment, especially in a matter so wholly 
 personal as is religion, was yet too politic not to perceive 
 the effect which any identification with the Huguenotic 
 faith would exert on his political prospects. While adding 
 a request to his former protestations, and when about, in 
 the glowing language he could so well command, to depict 
 the happiness to which together they might arrive, the two 
 had come to a station of ground that overlooked the beau 
 tiful valley, commanding it from a site that afforded every 
 advantage to light and shade, along the whole line of per 
 spective. 
 
 The Count, who had retained but uncertain recollections 
 of this lovely scene, and that at a time when all its rich
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 47 
 
 foliage was but just peeping out, could not restrain expres 
 sions of delight. " Let the stream wander where it will," 
 he said, "we will go no further." 
 
 Alicia, glad of the half-expected correspondence of feel 
 ing, now thought that she herself had never beheld the 
 valley look so beautiful. In the moment when the Count 
 seemed so absorbed with the scene as almost to have for 
 gotten his companion, Alicia chose to request of him obe 
 dience to a request she had to present. 
 
 "What is it, dearest?" said the Count. 
 
 "I know the strength of your love," rejoined Alicia, 
 " and would first exact a promise of compliance, except for 
 the peculiar character of the request, and that I would not 
 wish to take the undue advantage which your confidence 
 might allow ; but be sure, it is a request I dearly wish to 
 have answered." 
 
 "What is it?" again repeated her lover; and as he 
 spoke he looked eagerly into the serene eyes of his com 
 panion. 
 
 "It is almost too much to ask," said Alicia, in a tone of 
 deep emotion, "nevertheless, it is in your power to grant 
 it." 
 
 This was a spur to the Count's impatience, who, no 
 longer able to restrain curiosity, became himself the en- 
 treater. For a time Alicia resisted all attempts to reveal 
 the wished-for boon. It was not that she sought to tamper 
 with the expectation she had excited ; it was from the in 
 fluence of another and far different feeling. 
 
 "You see," she at length said, "those rustic cottages 
 peeping out of the shrubbery along the sides of the valley.
 
 48 TKUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 See how diligently the peasants must have laboured to 
 cover those barren slopes with so much rich fruitage ; and 
 see again how prettily their gardens are laid out. This 
 cannot have been merely from motives of profit. Oh, no ! 
 these simple-hearted people love their own quiet vale. 
 They feel happy when within its shadow, and would not, I 
 believe, for any earthly sum, change, its quietness and 
 peace." 
 
 " But what is the quietness and peace of rebels, I mean 
 of heretics?" asked her companion, in a musing tone; for 
 with him religious and political defection, notwithstanding 
 all his practical liberality, were nearly identical. 
 
 " See you, in your turn, Alicia, that chapel which your 
 ancestors built in their midst ; and know you that they 
 neglect its worship and scorn its rites. For myself I can 
 not afford to waste sympathy on any such people ; they 
 may be peaceable in their lives, unobtrusive in their man 
 ners, but this is by no means their whole duty ; and, though 
 I hate moralizing, I must say that they deserve their fate." 
 
 "Louis, Louis !" interrupted Alicia, "speak not harshly 
 of those whom you do not know. My request concerns 
 them; but I will not urge what now I see you are in no 
 mood to accept." 
 
 " I would not deny any of your wishes, dearest. But 
 what can you ask concerning these people that is in my 
 power to grant ? Even to refrain from allusion to them is 
 desirable, and for reasons you well know." 
 
 " I perceive your feeling," said Alicia, mournfully. " It 
 is that I share in the obloquy and scorn supposed to attach 
 to these people, who, with all their imagined and imputed
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 49 
 
 wickedness, have cast away neither the Bible nor its pre 
 cepts." 
 
 "I am no theologian, my dear Alicia; but surely ours 
 is a better and a purer faith. It has been sanctioned by 
 the devotion of ages, and to cast it away, to descend to an 
 argument springing from unenlightened minds, to whims 
 and fancies, were to prove recreant to the noblest sense of 
 the soul, that of dependence on superior wisdom. We 
 should always side with experience. Say you not so, 
 Alicia ?" 
 
 " Why should not the acceptance of the Bible be suffi 
 cient, nay, all that should be demanded of these people ? 
 Is not the sum of all religion to perform constantly deeds 
 of mercy, and to keep one's self unspotted from the 
 world?" 
 
 " I had no conception you were so good an arguer," said 
 the Count, musingly. " What you say is true, but more 
 is needed. Another stream than that of revelation has 
 flowed by man's path from primeval times, a stream that 
 illustrates and developes Christianity, and to whose current 
 the Church, for our confidence, often points. During my 
 late journey, I was gazing on the milky way. What a 
 crowded concrete mass of matter it appeared ! and yet 
 astrologers descry amidst it innumerable suns. And so, 
 dearest, though you understand not all the teachings of the 
 Church, you might surely conclude, from its many points 
 of undoubted light, that the whole proceeds from a di 
 vinely illuminated and exhaustless source." 
 
 Alicia wondered in herself to hear her lover thus mar 
 vellously discoursing.
 
 50 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 Truly the Count had every earthly motive to feel inte 
 rested as to the effect his words might produce, had every 
 reason to summon up his energies ; he had spoken with an 
 energy and persuasiveness worthy of a clerical member of 
 the religion of which he scarcely assumed himself to be the 
 advocate. In that day a theoretical and unconditional as 
 sent to the tenets of the Church was admitted as the 
 bounden test of Christian discipleship ; in what age could 
 less have been demanded ? To refuse assent to any one of 
 these was to impugn the character of the Church to infalli 
 bility: a character it had sought nobly to sustain through 
 many ages and to justify amidst all circumstances. Those 
 who thus believed were bound for conscience sake to maintain 
 the jurisdiction of St. Peter ; and any want of zeal was 
 properly construed into a want of religious veneration. It 
 could not be otherwise. And happier were the members 
 of the established Church, thus restrained to an uncondi 
 tional surrender of individual opinion, a surrender which 
 in few instances was felt as grievous, and till this time 
 was scarce even regretted, better, we say, was this, than 
 that loose liberalism which afterward found its way into 
 more than one Protestant Church, the liberalism which, so 
 far from presenting any landmarks, so continually shifts 
 to and fro the standard of truth so misconstrues, so doubts 
 and combines the pure precepts and doctrines of the Bible, 
 that its adherents are more and more mystified, and while 
 in the constant practice of making new discoveries, are for 
 ever learning and never able to come to the knowledge of 
 the truth. The Huguenots, happily, were so far restrained 
 by past prepossessions, by long cultured habits of mental
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 51 
 
 discipline, as not to have trespassed thus far, but to be dis 
 posed to receive with meekness the engrafted word which 
 was able to save their souls. 
 
 Alicia still continued silent, and her lover would proba 
 bly have immediately reverted to another, and to him a 
 more agreeable topic, but that her mind was so strongly 
 bent on this. He drew her fondly to him, as he said, "I 
 ask your pardon, dearest, if I have offended you;. but what 
 was your request ?" 
 
 "It can serve no purpose," said Alicia, "now to disclose 
 it. These people must look to Heaven for aid. I had 
 hoped, vainly hoped, that you would be willing, for the sake 
 of your Alicia, to grant the request she makes, that you 
 would use your influence to obtain a revocation of the 
 decree." 
 
 "A revocation of the decree, Alicia ! Impossible ! You 
 know not how these decrees are brought about; and even 
 could my breath dissolve the enactment, that breath should 
 be restrained. Besides, do you think me so mad as to 
 seek, however strongly disposed, an amendment, the adop 
 tion of which would inevitably lead to an injurious, nay to 
 fatal suspicion." 
 
 "Ah!" said his companion, in a mild and rebuking tone, 
 " it is this union of policy and religion in the rulers of 
 France that does the harm. I know well that it is neither 
 the good bishops nor their cure's who work these wicked 
 deeds ; it is the artfulness of those who, having proved 
 traitors to their own special trusts, would thus exhibit 
 their devotion to the state !" 
 
 "You speak violently, Alicia! You are getting ex-
 
 52 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 cited. It is a localized, a narrow sympathy that can weep 
 over the mild expulsion of the dwellers in this lovely val 
 ley, and not consider the evil otherwise resulting from the 
 dangerous and contagious influence of their example." 
 
 "It is not selfishness, Louis ; it is unity in feeling and 
 in" 
 
 The Count started. With all his knowledge of the re 
 ligious delinquencies of his companion, he had not sup 
 posed that she would thus make a tacit and absolute con 
 fession of her views. 
 
 "It is a dangerous time to avow this," remarked Sir 
 Louis. "A wild, foolish whim is bearing you away. You 
 have in this part of France had too much seclusion ; some 
 melting mood some poetry-stricken fancy that there is 
 something purer, higher, better than the Church can 
 show, possesses you." 
 
 " Say not so," said Alicia. " Were I assured you would 
 continue to think thus, I might, indeed, have endeavoured 
 to hide my thoughts; but even this I could not have done 
 without dissembling. I did not wish to meet you with 
 other than a smiling face and a light heart ; but it is for 
 the news you bring that I am sad ; it is for the thought 
 that the vale in which from childhood I have wandered is 
 to be deserted by its tenants; it is more, for all they are 
 going to suffer, for all that your Alicia shall endure!" 
 
 " Speak not thus," said the Count, who perceived not 
 the profound import of the last word ; "in the lively 
 amusements we shall presently engage in, all these dreary 
 visions shall perish. Hark! the forester is sounding his 
 bugle for the chase. Let us return."
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 53 
 
 \ 
 
 As Louis bent down to kiss the tearful cheek of his lovely 
 companion, he perceived a steady decision imprinted on 
 the soft lineaments of Alicia, that told how little his last 
 words had found entrance to her heart. The hugle just 
 now sounded right merrily; on field and forest, hill 
 and flood, was spread the sweet ligh of creation. who, 
 amidst such a scene, with thoughts only of love, might not 
 be judged happy ! And yet in truth, 
 
 " Like one pure rill that sudden shocks divide, 
 In separate channels they have parted wide, 
 To seek and fret their way into the main, 
 But, till they reach it, never meet again. 
 Yet long as Memory's trembling hand unrolls 
 To them the record of life's early day, 
 Gray, crag-girt valley ! thou upon their souls 
 Hast left a shade that shall not pass away." 
 
 The emotions of Alicia were visible less in her agitated 
 manner and quivering features, than in the laboured 
 breathings which escaped her lips. The Count, too, was 
 evidently affected ; and though the distance from the 
 stream to the southern wing of the chateau, where the 
 caparisoned steeds were now in waiting, did not exceed a 
 hundred paces, neither could hide from the other an anxiety 
 to close this painful interview for it was but an interview, 
 and not that sweet interchange of feeling which is the 
 climax of true and fond affection. In his inmost heart, if 
 the truth might only have been there revealed, the Count 
 discovered an estrangement from the object of his choice, 
 without any diminution of his respect. At this time, 
 moreover, alliances were entered into with as much con- 
 
 5*
 
 54 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 sideration for family connexion, as though the happiness of 
 life depended on the coincidence in the value of each party's 
 social position and wealth ; and truly, to the gay, volatile 
 French, the immemorial custom of retaining the distinc 
 tions of rank was little regarded as a burden. The 
 Count knew not as yet that his heart was more than ten 
 dril-bound, that the love of Alicia was a reality that would 
 presently triumph over all other considerations. It is no 
 easy matter to fathom the depths of one's own heart. 
 
 The Duke and his son were awaiting on horseback the 
 Count's approach. No sooner were the party in full view 
 than the latter, forgetful of this sad interview, raised his 
 cap with an air of triumph, and, shouting out with might 
 and main, stepped in advance of Alicia ; then bowing to 
 Blanche, who stood within the balcony, he sprang on the 
 remaining steed. The whole party, preceded by foresters, 
 bounded on towards the forest, which stretched in a west- 
 wardly direction more than thirty miles. 
 
 It was not long before they had disappeared from the 
 view of the two sisters ; Blanche and Alicia had again met. 
 
 " Weeping already, Alicia !" said Blanche. "Remem 
 ber this is a gala-day. What makes you sad ? Some little 
 jealousy some story of Racine some thought, that pre 
 sent bliss is too " 
 
 "Nothing of the kind, sister," rejoined Alicia. "You 
 know well the heart at times must grieve." 
 
 " But this is such an unseasonable time to do so. Ah ! 
 my dear Alicia, those religious mists have bound you hand 
 and foot ; they have clouded your bright spirit, before so 
 sedate ; they have exhausted your liveliness and your joy.
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 55 
 
 Alas ! what have they not done ? Let us come within and 
 practise some of the liveliest songs, for on their return the 
 Count and Victor will certainly ask for something of the 
 kind. Let me see : do you not remember that beautiful 
 song commencing 
 
 Through Nature's blossoms strewing, 
 One footstep we are viewing, 
 One flash from golden pinions ! 
 If from Heaven's starry sea, 
 If from the moonlit sky, 
 If from the sun's domains, 
 
 - 
 
 Looked not Love's laughing eye 
 
 Then sun and moon and stars would be 
 
 Alike without a smile for me ! 
 
 But oh, wherever Nature lives, 
 
 Below, around, above. 
 
 Her happy eye the mirror gives 
 
 To thy glad beauty, Love!" 
 
 Alicia upon this kissed tenderly again her sister; for 
 much as these two sisters differed in the characteristics of 
 their minds and the tendencies of their opinions, they had 
 ever mutual affection for each other ; each had imparted 
 to each the warmest love ; and though, of late, a chill had 
 resulted from the withdrawal of Alicia from the daily rites 
 of the Roman Catholic communion, it had not passed to 
 any sensible diminution of confidence, except in this, that 
 Alicia now ceased to communicate to Blanche her deepest, 
 her inmost feelings, to give expression to those sweet feel 
 ings, which all religions, however simple their rites, and 
 however solemn and mysterious, will, with devout worship 
 pers, unfailingly excite.
 
 00 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 Alicia had no reason to withhold and did not cease her 
 delight in portions of the Romish ritual ; her heart, fol 
 lowing its native instincts, clung to the symbols of the un 
 seen and the spiritual. Indeed, though she acknowledged 
 not more than would the Huguenots, she had continued to 
 attend their grand and impressive service, and anticipated 
 with some degree of sadness its entire loss. The Hugue 
 nots themselves were wont to regard her with reserve, by 
 reason of her unwillingness to acquiesce in their extreme 
 conclusions, and it was not till other events had transpired, 
 events that tested her fidelity to the utmost, and drew 
 from her such, sacrifices as the young maidenly heart has 
 seldom been called to make, that they fully received her 
 into their confidence. 
 
 The song that Blanche had proposed continued unsung: 
 her own mind was at this time in full, untrammelled gaiety, 
 wandering too far and over too wide a surface to allow it 
 to rest on any one certain thing ; the heart of Alicia, on 
 the contrary, was riveted on a theme to which she dared 
 not give expression ; at times she started, with the vehe 
 mence of her thoughts thoughts which the more she 
 strove to hide, the more would she umvittingly make 
 known. 
 
 "Now tell to me what ails you, my dear sister?" said 
 Blanche, seating herself at the same time beside Alicia, 
 throwing around her, her warm, loving arms ; "you are sad 
 when you should be gay." 
 
 "Is it impossible for you to divine the cause, Blanche? 
 Heard you not my father's muttered words?" 
 
 "Ah! let me consider," said Blanche, stooping down and
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 57 
 
 eyeing a small figure in the carpet, as though the better to 
 abstract her thoughts; "I do remember now that his man 
 ner was unusual as he mounted that fiery charger. Yes, 
 and as he mounted he cast a look at you that was let me 
 think ! it was not 1 o ving. " Blanche paused, and then again 
 broke out in quite a different tone, yet without any change 
 in her affectionate manner: "You act wrongly, Alicia, 
 very wrongly. All would love you more, and all would be 
 happier, if you only would recant those ridiculous opinions 
 which the ignorant people in the valley have been simple 
 enough to tell you of, and you to adopt." 
 
 "And let me tell you," said Blanche, in a whispering 
 tone, "you are thus incurring for yourself much danger, 
 and for our entire household much obloquy." 
 
 " Then the line of separation is drawn already," re 
 turned Alicia, who, without looking at her sister, con 
 tinued to view mournfully the portrait of her mother a 
 woman who had claim to the noble lineage of the family 
 of the Medici, and who, with an expression befitting her 
 illustrious origin, bore that sweet tenderness of feeling 
 which wins while it subdues. 
 
 " Answer me, my sister," continued the unremitting 
 Blanche, " why will you persist in this dangerous course ? 
 Whence do you get this strength of will, so far beyond 
 your years so extraordinary, so unaccountable ? Is it to 
 continue or to cease ? Hear me, my sister, and consider too 
 the effect that your conduct will have on the Count. He 
 has already been made aware of your predilection ; he has, 
 perhaps, remonstrated with you. Be sure that his love will
 
 58 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 never lead him to an identification with your wild fancies ; 
 he would as soon think of blotting out his hopes of heaven, 
 as of withdrawing from the communion of a church which 
 affords whatever is necessary to salvation. Even now he 
 appears to have taken the alarm. I noticed a restlessness 
 in his eye that betokens but little satisfaction with what 
 ever communications you have made to him. Yes, that un 
 satisfied and contradictory expression was visible beneath 
 all his gaiety. If you change, why may he not ? For his 
 sake, then, if not for your own, for his sake who has so 
 much to gain, so much to lose, undo your present mind. 
 You are beguiled, my sweet sister, with vain and foolish 
 dreams. It is not for you to hold sympathy with the rude 
 peasantry; what can they divine of truth? 'Tis said 
 they possess concealed copies of the Scriptures, but out of 
 the pale of the Church, how shall they or you be assured of 
 finding for its texts a certain meaning ?" 
 
 "Stay, stay, Blanche say no more. I see all, I feel 
 all. I am conscious of the penalty ; its most certain por 
 tion banishment from this pleasant home by an angry 
 father." 
 
 "I will not hide from you the full danger," responded 
 Blanche, who supposed her words were now making an im 
 pression. " My father has already spoken to me with much 
 bitterness as to your course, and made many threats. 
 What the end will be I know not ; but this is certain, 
 that he will endeavour by every personal means, and if 
 this fail, by appeal to the lawful tribunal, to compel at 
 least an external acquiescence, so that our honour may be 
 saved. Why do you thus insure to yourself punishment, my
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 59 
 
 sister ? I feel for your position on account of this declen 
 sion, but I cannot have any sympathy with it." 
 
 Blanche looked to Alicia for an answer. Alicia folded 
 her hands, laid her warm cheek on her sister's shoulder, and 
 then let fall those tears which Tasso has described by the 
 image of those drops that precede a shower the forcings 
 of a mighty tide that is heaving with its own force, but has 
 not yet commenced its flow. 
 
 " Blanche, look at me, and tell me is there no way of 
 hope ? I adore the same Saviour, and worship the same 
 God." 
 
 " But you partake not of the mass." 
 
 "I do accept it." 
 
 " But from the hands of those who profane the rite," ex 
 claimed Blanche vehemently. " I will tell you the words 
 of my father ' Think you,' said he, ' that the world would 
 stand, that society would be kept together, that its rabble 
 masses would be restrained from the consuming fires which 
 jealousy and envy are always feeding, if the doctrines of 
 the holy Church were to be held loosely ? The defection 
 of Alicia may seem unimportant to herself; but to ourselves, 
 and to the interests of the true Church, especially at this 
 time, it is of serious importance.' These were his very 
 words. Why will you brave his wrath ? Return, my 
 sweet sister, and let the blessed Virgin be again your pro 
 tector." 
 
 Blanche was yet in uncertainty as to the bent which her 
 sister's mind had taken. Whilst telling out the penalties, 
 Blanche had never for a moment dreamed that her sister 
 would persist in exposing herself to them ; had it been so,
 
 60 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 she would, under the instruction of her confessor, have 
 shown a decided antipathy to any further communica 
 tion till the hoped for change had come to pass. And 
 truly, had the sentiments of Alicia not been interwoven 
 with her very existence, such a course would, perhaps, have 
 been not the least of effectual modes ; for Alicia was of that 
 trustful, loving nature which climbs around, yea, builds 
 itself upon the love of others. 
 
 But the great secret was as yet deeply hid none yet 
 were worthy to, or could share her inward thoughts, her 
 pains or purposes. What more Blanche said, or what more 
 Alicia answered, need not be told : when they parted each 
 one felt the other to be more a stranger to herself, and each 
 looked (though how differently !) to the speedy return of 
 the hunters.
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 61 
 
 CHAPTEEV. 
 
 " Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more ; 
 
 I mourn: but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you; 
 For morn is returning your charms to restore, 
 Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glittering with dew." 
 
 ALICIA, from the casement of a small sitting-room that 
 adjoined her chamber, was the first inmate of the ch&- 
 teau who descried the returning party. She had been 
 engaged, as well as had her sister, in making preparations 
 for the evening. Every possible arrangement having been 
 made, she was now bending thoughtfully over a light pro 
 jecting branch of alder wood, the fragrance from which 
 scented the air of the whole chamber. The branches of a 
 rare vine had clustered round the window from which she 
 looked, and almost wholly shrouded her form. With her 
 mild, sweet, and saddened countenance, she might there 
 have stood, in the view of some gifted artist without, or to 
 any one with a spark of true sentiment, for the apparition 
 of a young nun, looking out from a seclusion already too 
 still and too protracted to happily endure. 
 
 " They come !" said Alicia to herself, " nearer and 
 more near. Why does my foolish heart beat so ? Let 
 me restrain ftoth my joy and my grief. Sufficient for the 
 day is both its good and evil. I will try not to interfere 
 so much with the happiness of others." And the gentle 
 girl, looking afar, watched, through many a long, blue 
 woodland aisle, the flashing forms of the richly caparisoned 
 steeds, and the dark dress of the riders, not yet clearly dis 
 tinguishable. Now and then a horseman would strike out
 
 62 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 from the party, and, with the sky for a background, ap 
 pear in grand relief. At intervals the whole group would 
 seem, as they descended to a dell, to sink beneath the earth, 
 or be lost in the numerous ambuscades the woods afforded, 
 and which lay in gigantic masses in every direction. At 
 length rose ringing in the air the sound of the clear horn, 
 and presently was heard the bark of the fleet dogs, con 
 scious of having, in the few hours that had elapsed, sus 
 tained their well-earned reputation. As the full cavalcade 
 came in view, emerging from some dusky underwood, it 
 was truly a grand sight to see the lofty and graceful ap 
 pearance of the noble riders. The lover of Alicia descried 
 her as he neared the gate leading into the court-yard ; and 
 at the instant raising his cap, he saluted her with a grace 
 worthy of the most accomplished knights of the zenith 
 days of chivalry. 
 
 The second reception of the visiters was certainly as 
 cordial as they could possibly desire. Few as were the 
 apparent resorts for beguiling the remaining time of that 
 day, and of this eventful visit, there was no danger of any 
 failure indeed, without music, walks in the conservatory, 
 rambles in the vineyards, visits to the falconry, boating 
 excursions in a light canoe that rested swan-like on the 
 wide-spread waters of what, in the exaggeration of a local 
 geographical map, might have been termed a lake appear 
 ing, as it did, the larger by its many windings, and the 
 jutting projection of rocks clothed with shrubbery the 
 society of the sisters would have been sufficient to prevent 
 that sad, sombre hue, which is apt to come upon one in 
 the long summer days of idleness and rest.
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 63 
 
 When the first evening of this visit came, and its soft, 
 mild light was tinging every object that looked toward 
 the west with a mellow glow, when the pure, fresh breeze, 
 that wakes with night, began flowing from its unknown 
 source, pressing in its motion every leaf and shrub, and 
 making the outspread waters to ripple unceasingly, Alicia 
 and the Count again met, and in that "most romantic of 
 all romantic places, a vine-clad porch that opened towards 
 the lake, which skirted the western extremity of the 
 chateau. 
 
 "See you yon bird," said Alicia; "the bird that has 
 just wet its wing in those perturbed waters ? Why does 
 it not return to its nest ? the day is spent." 
 
 " It cannot choose now to roam ; true, there is a reason 
 for your question. Probably its nest has been destroyed. 
 In yon bush about which it flies, the bush trembling and 
 hanging over the brink, must have been suspended its light 
 nest. Who would not have thought it there secure?" 
 
 "I grieve for the little winged flutterer," said Alicia; 
 " and yet human griefs, the griefs of our fellow-creatures, 
 are greater, and these we heed not." 
 
 -"You are thinking again of the inhabitants of the 
 valley," said her lover, as he quickly recalled the conver 
 sation that had so lately passed. " Thinking of them 
 again ! Certainly they are to be pitied ; but not yet 
 they are not yet gone, and when gone, it will be their own 
 choice. I would not grieve you, dearest, but I must tell 
 you that your sympathy with those people has hurt me 
 much, and has already served as an embarrassing restraint 
 between us. Your sweetness of disposition seems, in this
 
 64 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 instance, to have overcome your customary sound judg 
 ment." 
 
 "Would you change love to friendship?" said Alicia, 
 musingly. 
 
 " That I never can, my Alicia ; but yet our meeting 
 is vain, our future union impossible, as long as this 
 presumptuous fancy of a better faith continues. Submit 
 to my assurance of its folly ; suffer this kiss to seal your 
 consent." 
 
 But Alicia, knowing how much the proffered token 
 implied, held aloof. She perceived the impossibility of 
 disposing the mind of her lover to a calm investigation of 
 the basis of difference, whilst her own good judgment 
 acknowledged the justice of not allowing his success in 
 life, by any longer alliance with herself, to be so seriously 
 interfered with as it must else evidently be. In that 
 moment her full resolve was taken ; whatever assertions 
 she might make, it was plain he would never tacitly 
 consent to a present withdrawal of their engagement ; he 
 would not, for years to come, bring himself to the belief 
 that she would abide by her present religious convictions, 
 and that she would not some day return lamb-like to the 
 one fold of the Church. 
 
 With all his love for Alicia, however, the Count was 
 not one who would allow himself to be carried away by 
 blind enthusiasm. Like one who has ascended a mountain 
 to secure the flowers whose beauty had delighted him from 
 below, and finds them yet beyond his reach, growing only 
 on the borders of a dark abyss, so he, when deeming his 
 highest hopes near consummation, beheld them, if not
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 65 
 
 dashed down for this his own proud and lofty spirit would 
 not confess indefinitely removed, and this by a cause 
 which the whole strength of his iron will could not do 
 away with. Happily to the warm enthusiasm of his nature, 
 the Count Louis added that habit of cool and cautious 
 policy, with which those bred in courts are so familiar ; 
 and, in place of needlessly grieving over the delay, or 
 regarding Alicia as irrecoverably lost, he busied himself 
 in planning how he might effectually countervail her pre 
 sent mind and temper. 
 
 Alas, poor Alicia ! thou too wert like the nestless bird ; 
 already the shades of evening, the shadows of night, steal 
 around thee, and thy heart is overflowing with emotions 
 and thine eyes are wet with tears, and the present to thee 
 has no joy, and the future no hope ! 
 
 The festivities that night in the chateau were of the 
 most brilliant and pleasurable description. Additional 
 arrivals of visitors imparted high exhilaration. The ban 
 queting hall was a square room, cased in oak, its walls 
 covered with scroll-work and carved figures, many of these 
 rudely made, but all bearing reference to feats of the 
 illustrious ancestors of the noble house of D'Angouleine. 
 No sooner had the festive board been swept, than the 
 gaiety and hilarity of the company became almost unre 
 strained. Huguenots were forgotten, and, apparently, 
 every source of general discontent and every private care. 
 Most of the squires composing the company were pos 
 sessed of large landed property, their chief claim to 
 importance. With these were some of the fairest and 
 most bewitching beauties though none looked so fair 
 
 6*
 
 66 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 and gentle as Alicia, or so graceful and bland as Blanche. 
 The conversation carried on possessed, notwithstanding its 
 evanescent character and whimsical tone, a vigour which 
 has now almost disappeared from the social circles of 
 France. With the lightest, were also maintained the 
 weightiest themes, as well in the full career of excitement 
 as in the pauses which came from exhausted spirits, like 
 the pauses in a storm. 
 
 Blanche exerted every effort to sustain the vivacity of 
 the guests. Alicia, completely retired, and almost hid 
 behind the blaze of two huge chandeliers, endeavoured to 
 appear perfectly composed, although her fair brow, formed 
 for the sweet expression of quiet happiness, was plainly 
 overcast with the deep dyes of sorrow. She observed that 
 her father, notwithstanding all the banqueting, was sub 
 ject to gloomy, even painful thoughts. Almost without 
 intention, his eyes would follow in the direction of herself 
 and the Count. They sat near each other, but held no 
 conversation ; neither did the Count appear entirely free 
 from impressions of a kindred nature to those which 
 troubled his noble host. At once wearied with the day's 
 amusement, and its bitter revelation, the forced journeys 
 which his haste from Paris had occasioned, increased 
 the excitement. 
 
 Thus hour after hour went by, uncounted and uncared 
 for ; but, ! how long to be remembered in the lives of 
 those two perhaps in the lives of all. It is even so : 
 the hours most heedlessly thrown away are often those in 
 which our fate is being worked out in its unchangeable-
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 67 
 
 ness ; the pearls which we set at naught are too often 
 those only which can enrich us. 
 
 When the evening had grown late, and mirth for all 
 mirth must have its end had become exhausted, the 
 Count left a knot of gentlemen with whom he had been 
 engaged in conversation, and approached Alicia, with the 
 evident intention of essaying to relieve her depressed 
 spirits. With this purposed view, he drew near to her a 
 fine old harpsichord, which, on account of its antique 
 frame, formed one of the most striking and interesting 
 articles of furniture in the room. Alicia would gladly 
 have desisted from calling out the slumbering tones ; yet 
 how could her heart resist what might prove the last request 
 of one so dear ! A gladdening smile fell on her features, as 
 she slowly bent over the instrument. In a moment more, 
 she had struck the note of one of those simple airs to 
 which the pious Huguenots had arranged their hymns. 
 Now and then, the voice of the player chimed with a 
 plaintive murmur in, as though speech and sound at an 
 infinitely remote distance, were following the spirit into 
 brighter regions. 
 
 The Duke stood by, gazing on his daughter as she sung, 
 and feeling it to be impossible to view her without glad 
 ness, or without thoughts of the noble station she was so 
 fit to grace. Had gifted mind and rare accomplishments 
 ever been able to shield their possessors from earth's 
 griefs, Alicia might then have been deemed more than 
 fortunate ; and was she not in the computation of the 
 great hereafter to be still deemed so ? These gifts, were 
 they not of equal value when appointed to subserve holier
 
 68 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 purposes than those connected with social gratification 
 to shine beside the ill and dying in distant homes to fulfil 
 every rule of obligation, and every law of love ? 
 
 The chords of the instrument had just ceased to sound, 
 and the attentive audience were about to solicit a repetition 
 of the mellow and bewitching strains, when the tears which 
 Alicia had endeavoured to repress, rose to her eyes, and 
 trembled on their lashes. She immediately rose, and whis 
 pered to Blanche to take her place. The laughing girl 
 assented, for Blanche, of all things, loved most to play and 
 sing. As her sister stole from the room she, with the 
 sweetest possible naivet, laid hold of the instrument, and 
 sweeping the strings with the freedom of the bards of old, 
 sent out a gushing and ever-changing strain of melody 
 that enchanted all present. Meanwhile the cheeks of the 
 player glowed with the warm lustre of her. spirit ; in her 
 eyes, which wandered where her fingers wandered, but were 
 yet occasionally lifted up, there was the articulate speaking 
 of delight. She was in her own element, the element for 
 which she felt herself, if not born, at least elected. There 
 was this difference in the players, that while the haugh 
 tiest, proudest brow, was by these soul-stirring strains made 
 to look haughtier, prouder, while the bosom heaved and 
 the eye flashed, as if with electric ardour, and in obedience 
 to strains that told of the stirring spirit of martial deeds, an 
 effect heightened by the dark moveless figures on that old 
 ancestral hall, the airs of Alicia had seemed to soften 
 every heart, to put off from each, while they lasted, all 
 vain-glory, and make each feel better, and disposed to 
 holier aspirations. It was the low, cool zephyr of the
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 69 
 
 skies, stealing along through a heated atmosphere no 
 more refreshful. 
 
 " You play nobly," said a venerable knight who sat near 
 the singer. "To hear such music is worth leaping a mile 
 of ditches." 
 
 "I do not play for praise," said Blanche, "but for 
 amusement." 
 
 "Amusement, then, let it be," rejoined the noble; 
 "but amusement, like everything else, has its degrees, and 
 should therefore be credited with praise and dispraise. 
 But where is your sister, Alicia? how sweet would those 
 low tones be after this excitement?" In this opinion the 
 entire company appeared quietly to acquiesce. This little 
 incident, these widely different effects, discovered the 
 characteristics of difference in the two sisters the one 
 attracting, winning, and keeping by force of her native 
 gentleness, the other stormy in her movements, and com 
 pelling admiration. 
 
 Alicia, careless of applause, and with no new joy to 
 gather, had, on leaving the great hall, sought the privacy 
 of her own chamber, conscious of an oppression which the 
 whole force of her nature was unable to throw off. Her 
 only, but all-sufficient resort, was prayer; and beneath the 
 eye of her heavenly Father, who seeth in secret, she poured 
 out her supplication for grace to enable her to make a 
 proper decision at this eventfuL crisis, and to act accord 
 ingly. On rising from her knees, she re-opened the note 
 which that morning she had received from Annie. Her 
 cheek for a moment flushed and faded as she read; but no 
 tear dimmed her eye, nor did she experience any faintness
 
 70 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 of spirit in view of the resolve she had to execute. "What 
 ever had been her struggles in the contemplation of de 
 serting the paternal mansion to share with the Huguenots 
 their lot in exile, there now followed a clear and calm 
 conviction that this was the appointed will of heaven. 
 
 What Alicia had already heard from her father and 
 lover, convinced her that longer concealment of the full 
 extent of her faith, as far as it differed with the established 
 one, was neither desirable or possible, and for this reason 
 she decided on availing herself of the opportunity now 
 offered. Her heart was elevated by its recent communion 
 with her Creator, and her feelings soothed even to calmness, 
 the issue of that sacred courage which rises as the waves 
 of trouble rise, looking over and above them to the bright 
 light which gleams from heaven. 
 
 It was while thus engaged, that Annie, the daughter of 
 the Huguenotic family, applied, by a timid and well^recog- 
 nised tap at the chamber door, for admittance. Though 
 this was not actually a concerted meeting, Alicia under 
 stood that now was the time, and this the opportunity, for 
 the concertment of the needed measures for escape, so as to 
 join unobserved the Huguenots, who, on the following night, 
 were to take up their march towards the distant valley of 
 Piedmont. Having admitted, and then again made f/ist 
 the door, Alicia bade her companion to communicate what 
 ever she further knew, in addition to the contents of the 
 note received that morning. The peasant girl in answer, 
 described the plans that had successively been .proposed 
 and rejected in the counsels of the Huguenots. There 
 still continued amongst them, however, but one opinion,
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 71 
 
 namely, that they should leave the vale in advance of the 
 time decreed by the government for their departure. It 
 was well known that powerful emissaries from Italy were 
 now at work in attempting to induce the French govern 
 ment to carry out against them the utmost rigours of the 
 law. There was, in short, every reason for their speedy 
 escape from the soil of France banishment from which 
 could by no possible means within their control be eventu 
 ally prevented. 
 
 The interchange of mutual grief between these two 
 confidants, might, if witnessed, have affected others than 
 themselves ; the peasant girl, indeed, had little that she 
 did not carry with her : a pure and guileless heart, that 
 still, continued trustfully to hope, and all that delightful 
 freshness of spirit, which to scenes the most sterile and 
 severe, can impart its own warm, enchanting hues. 
 
 " The night wanes," said Alicia, as the hands of the 
 porcelain-cased clock over the boudoir, pointed to the hour 
 of eleven. It was then time that they should part. A few 
 moments from this Annie was in her own room. 
 
 ' 
 sift*
 
 72 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Fair be the memory of that dreamy valley. 
 I go I I go! and must mine image fade 
 From the green spots wherein my childhood played, 
 
 By my own streams? 
 A boon, a talisman, a memory give 
 To shrine my name in hearts where I would live, 
 For evermore." 
 
 F. HEMANS. 
 
 MORNING is beautiful in every land. That which on the 
 morrow rose over the valley of the Huguenots for so it 
 has ever since been recognised in the annals of tradition 
 was impregnated with a delicious mildness. The restful 
 clouds wore the deeptest tint of autumn; a countless mul 
 titude of flowers yielded up their fragrance with the dew; 
 the birds chirped their merriest notes : they, indeed, had 
 received no warning to flee away ! The golden light as it 
 rose on the extended region of woodland, that made and 
 still makes the chief charm of this secluded province, 
 chequered the foliage with a changeful brilliancy, that, 
 without violence, might be compared to the spangled 
 surface of the ocean's moving waves. This light soon 
 reached the high dewy grass beneath, and then began to 
 peer into every dim recess, leaving the space more dark 
 which had resisted its gentle influence ! 
 
 Alicia at an early hour, and while few in the chateau 
 were yet astir, partook of a light breakfast, and imme-
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 73 
 
 diately, without acquainting any one of her intention, 
 equipped herself for a walk. With hurried steps she 
 gained the park gate. There assuring herself that she 
 had not been watched, she drew her crimson hood over her 
 face, and took the path leading to the valley. Not a 
 breath was stirring ; not a sound to disturb the stillness 
 but the birds as they flew from tree to tree with their 
 sweet song, and the kingfisher as he swept over the stream 
 in search of prey. Alicia was not long in reaching the 
 minister's cottage. Putting aside the encircling vines 
 about its gate, she touched the latch and entered. Her 
 pastor's benevolent face instantly assumed a smile of inex 
 pressible joy at the sight of her, whom he had fondly 
 named the pet of his flock. 
 
 "And what is your decision?" These were the first 
 words spoken. They were the words of deepest import. 
 The pastor had scarce need to propound the inquiry, for 
 while uttering it he read in the expression of the counte 
 nance of Alicia the answer which he sought, and imme 
 diately added : " Have you counted the cost ?" 
 
 " The cost," said Alicia, "is more to me than any trea 
 sures that the earth can show ; yet would I obey the voice 
 Divine, and follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth." 
 
 " God in Heaven bless you, my sweet child," exclaimed 
 the old man ; "I see you have reflected and intend to act 
 on the grounds which we considered in our last conference. 
 Henceforth there is laid up for you a crown of life which 
 God, the righteous judge, will give you at the last day." 
 
 "That day may not be distant," said his companion in 
 
 7
 
 74 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 her tenderest tones, "for my heart is already heavy with 
 the dews of grief. ' ' 
 
 " There is a dawn, there is a sunshine for souls seek 
 ing after truth," exclaimed the aged pastor, using that meta 
 phorical and yet energetic style of language so characteris 
 tic of the Huguenots. "Error with its false brilliancy 
 dazzles, and then darkens evermore." 
 
 The old man became absorbed with this one thought, and 
 ceased to speak. 
 
 The cottage door again opened and closed. Alicia de 
 parted with a confidence more firm, though without her 
 heart relieved from those emotions of intense anguish which 
 her present position, and her supposed line of duty, had led 
 her to adopt. She endeavoured to reach the chateau as 
 unobservedly as she had left it ; but although her path was 
 neither observed nor tracked, the excited suffusion of the 
 blood within her cheeks showed that her feelings had only 
 recently assumed their usually subdued character. It was 
 plain that Blanche on meeting her sister, had instantly 
 noticed this; a warning to Alicia of the necessity of 
 much watchfulness and self-possession to elude the con 
 cerned though affectionate notice of her sister, who knew 
 every variation in her ingenuous countenance too well to 
 mistake the nature of the feelings which might agitate her. 
 The Count, if he observed, failed to give any token of his 
 suspicions. He appeared, and evidently strove, to forget 
 whatever of painful thought had transpired on the previous 
 day ; indeed, the multiform engagements allotted for this 
 present day, prevented any direct allusion. 
 
 It was midnight when a gleam of light shot beneath the 
 door of Blanche's apartment, and a light hand was laid
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 75 
 
 upon its latch. It was Alicia. Passing over to the bed 
 on which lay her sister, she discovered her in a peaceful 
 slumher. Yes, she slept slept as the blissful sleep, with 
 out a shadow on her heart, or on her cheeks the traces of 
 a tear. For a time Alicia neither spoke nor moved, but 
 stood with her eyes riveted upon those beauteous features, 
 from which she read half the history of her childhood ; of 
 the time when they were children playing in the vineyards 
 of the South together. She now recalled, more powerfully 
 than ever before, the assiduity and affection with which 
 Blanche had fulfilled her dying mother's injunction respect 
 ing herself " She is the youngest, nurture her." She 
 had not gazed long when she dropped on her knees, and 
 pressing the hand of the unconscious sleeper, prayed that 
 Heaven would fill her heart with that love which passeth 
 knowledge, and assures of a happy reunion in a better 
 country. She would not wake her, for by this her purpose 
 might receive an untimely delay. So she knelt silently in 
 prayer, till the dull sound of a distant clock warned her 
 that the time had come for departure. How holy was that 
 place ! how solemn that parting scene ! Heaven, which is 
 never wanting in its mercies, brought in that moment to 
 the heart of Alicia a cheerful resignation to its will ; and 
 imprinting one kiss on her sister's lips, she laid on the pil 
 low a golden locket of remembrance, and departed as she 
 had come. 
 
 She had already caused to be conveyed to the house of 
 
 % 
 the pastor whatever apparel she was likely to need, and 
 
 nothing now remained but to leave, in the faith of a better 
 promise, the home of her father. Everywhere in the ch-
 
 76 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 teau was silence. As she listened fearfully, the clock in the 
 distant church-tower again tolled out, and over the bed 
 for evermore deserted, Alicia bowed her face and wept. 
 
 To the mind of the lovely Huguenot how well would the 
 words of the poet then apply ! 
 
 " But with thoughts eternal, now 
 Gathered on her sober brow, 
 And in her sad and tearful eye, 
 Purged with heavenly sanctity, 
 What to her were joy and mirth, 
 All the light and love of earth !" 
 
 With one more prayer, and one more sigh, she left her 
 room, glided timidly along the corridors, descended the 
 stairway, and unfastening the garden door, found herself 
 beneath the open sky, and in company with Annie, who 
 had there appointed to meet her. 
 
 It was a lovely night ; the air cooled the throbbing tem 
 ples of the exiled one, and there was something even sooth 
 ing in the gentle rustling of the breeze as it swept over the 
 long grass, and rose amidst the trees. 
 
 "All things look lovely," whispered Annie, as the two 
 stept upon the bridge, the first moment she had ventured 
 to give voice to her thoughts " I have heard we shall have 
 sweeter, more beautiful nights in the foreign land." 
 
 " There is a night of the soul, Annie, into which the light 
 of heaven does not enter ; in which nothing is seen, and 
 nothing known. Yet goodness and mercy shall follow us 
 all the days of our life, and we will dwell in the house of 
 the Lord for ever."
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 77 
 
 Midway on the opposite ascent, Alicia obtained a last look 
 of her secluded home a look that made her heart again 
 throb, and her tears to flow. It was but a glimpse ; and the two 
 resumed their way, only stopping again when another hour 
 chimed out. On approaching the pastor's home, Alicia 
 instantly fancied that she heard the clang of arms within. 
 It was more than a fancy; for on entering, she beheld 
 their pastor's usually quiet room half filled Avith armed 
 men, with whom were grouped their wives and daughters. 
 The sight impressed her with the anticipated danger of the 
 sudden evacuation, without, however, lessening her reso 
 lution. Every countenance was care-worn, though there 
 was exhibited but little of that despondency which the 
 circumstances might have been supposed to induce. The 
 pastor went with whispered messages of strength to each 
 one of the company, and was about asking a blessing on 
 the enterprise. Deliberation had ceased; the time for 
 action had arrived. The summons was ringing in each ear, 
 
 " What thou doest, do quickly." 
 
 The tramp of hoofs without the gate was the signal for 
 departure ; and no sooner was this known, than the taper 
 that had hitherto burned was extinguished all was instant 
 darkness. 
 
 The door opened, and slowly the whole company passed 
 out. Alicia pressed close to the side of Annie. The pastor, 
 supported on either side by two stern men, was the last to 
 leave that place of years. 
 
 7*
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "The day is lowering stilly black: 
 Sleeps the grim wave, while Heaven's rack 
 Dispersed and wild, 'twixt earth and sky, 
 Hangs like a shattered canopy 1 
 There, rolled in masses dark and swelling, 
 As proud to be the thunder's dwelling : 
 Whilst some, already burst and riven, 
 Seem melting down the verge of heaven." 
 
 IT was in the month of October, 1523, that this party 
 of refugees gained the borders of France. Vineyards, 
 meadows, and groves were exchanged for bleak and deso 
 late plains, on the extreme verge of which mountains, 
 whitened by snow, rose like the spectres of ages. By night 
 they were able to encamp at the base of these lofty piles 
 
 " Whose most attenuated element is fit 
 For angel musings ; and their snow-white copes 
 
 For angel rovings." 
 
 
 
 The excited group beheld in these Alpine barriers, the 
 portals of a temple wherein the spirit might worship the 
 Creator of its days without weariness or oppression. Now, 
 for the first time since their departure, they felt assured of 
 an entire severance from their enemies. Many an inquiring 
 look had they cast back in their wayward journey, under 
 the suspicion of pursuit. 
 
 It was evening when their feet first touched the gigantic 
 ranges whose mightiness was to be their present deliver-
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 79 
 
 ance, and to prevent their final extinction. They properly, 
 therefore, considered this evening as an eventful one. The 
 children, wearied with fatigue, were soon lulled to rest ; 
 and then the gathered company, with the venerable pastor 
 in their midst, sang what, with equal justice and beauty, 
 might be termed "a new song." Elevated by devotional 
 enthusiasm, they closed with the TE DEUM, that most 
 sublime anthem, commencing with the words 
 
 " We praise thee, Grod ; we acknowledge thee to be the 
 Lord!" 
 
 Never in the history of the Church had this pious 
 hymn, consecrated by the breath of ages, whether from 
 the lips of kings or peasants, been expressed with more 
 hallowed fervour. Like a voice of promise, it made glad 
 the solitary heart of each pilgrim with the assurance of a 
 high protecting power. 
 
 In this instance the Huguenots had departed from the 
 minor formularies of their new ritual ; for in excess of zeal, 
 or because misled by a prudential motive for a more strict 
 distinguishment, they had avoided whatever the established 
 Church had appropriated to herself. The written word was 
 almost the sole text-book of the Huguenots, and the con 
 stant grafting of its language into their conversation, 
 showed how diligently they had conned its pages. 
 
 Morning had far advanced, when the company put itself 
 again in motion. New preparations were now requisite 
 for travelling safely the narrow passes of the mountains. 
 The baggage mules, which were attended by the most 
 athletic of the company, took the lead ; then those which 
 bore the devoted Huguenotic women and their children. In
 
 80 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 company with these last, Alicia had quickly become 
 a favourite, for her gentle tone and kindly manner, which 
 insinuated themselves at once into the heart. Most of 
 the men followed on foot: each one holding in his hand 
 a staff pointed with iron, serving thus to make the footing 
 more secure. There was, however, little danger to be 
 apprehended. 
 
 In a few hours the entire file had entered fairly within 
 the limits of the Alps. With that exquisite, poetic sensi 
 bility, for which the French are so deservedly distin 
 guished, all were conscious that they had now entered 
 amidst that scenery, which is at once the delight and 
 wonder of the world. Constant exclamations of surprise 
 discovered how great was their delight at the variety pre 
 sented. At the base of a deep ravine rushed a foaming 
 torrent, the tortuous windings of which evinced its strength, 
 though it was at too great a depth to send up audible 
 sounds. Above them, continually, were still higher ranges, 
 and above these were the blue, blue heavens, into which 
 eye could not but desire to look. 
 
 The first day's journey was, in respect to themselves, 
 one of the most complete solitude : for they had pur 
 posely chosen an almost neglected pass. How strangely 
 did the shadows of the next evening come ! All paused 
 instinctively, and without bidding, as the muleteers took 
 up their evening song. This song was such as could 
 scarcely consist with the existence of any saddening 
 thoughts clear, harmonious, and transporting. With 
 thick darkness the vast and dizzy chasms were quickly 
 filling ; the sky seemed to stoop to absorb the weight of
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 81 
 
 rocks suspended over them ; and there was heard for the 
 first time a hollow murmur, like that of subterranean 
 waters. Nor was there wanting a charming variety in 
 the after days of this strange pilgrimage. The ever- 
 varying tints of the sky, the mists which in a thousand 
 forms wove themselves together, the dark pines girding 
 like a sea each solitary mountain pile, and the swooping 
 eagles joying in the glorious liberty of their nature, all 
 these belonged to, and made a portion of the scene. 
 
 The second day passed as had the first. On the third 
 day, the cavalcade had scarce been set in motion when it 
 was compelled to come to a sudden halt. The experienced 
 muleteers had discerned in a sky that seemed to others 
 calm and cloudless, signs of a coming storm ; and one of 
 those storms which make up the romance as well as the 
 danger of the Alps. 
 
 "It will be terrific," muttered the main guide, an old 
 and gray-haired man, whose frame trembled as he spoke, 
 not indeed with age, or fear for himself, but for those 
 delicate women, over whom it would sweep as mercilessly as 
 over the rocks that bared themselves as if made but for the 
 endurance of elemental wrath. The tidings went from ear 
 to ear, from mouth to mouth, like a wind that passes over 
 waving corn, bowing each heart with apprehension. 
 
 The party were in a narrow gorge, the steep declivities 
 of which so far from affording any protection, threatened 
 to cast down at the first attack, their incumbent load of 
 snow. Birds unobserved before, flew out from their hiding- 
 places, screaming and fluttering in terror. In the dis 
 tance the skies became involved in gloom, from the midst
 
 82 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 of which would every instant start and rise like sheeted 
 ghosts, volumes of snow which the approaching whirlwind 
 had detached and was dispersing. And then was heard 
 the pealing thunder, followed by terrific flashes of forked 
 lightning. 
 
 But as yet the air in the narrow gorge was still ; and 
 but for the screaming birds and the ghostly splendours of 
 the sky, and the doleful sweep of rising winds there was 
 nothing immediate to alarm the senses. By the direction 
 of the guide, to whose superior experience they had from 
 the first committed themselves the women and children 
 dismounted, as quickly as possible. Stakes were then 
 driven into the ground, and to these the mules in pairs 
 were fastened. The baggage wagons were so arranged as 
 to afford the utmost protection possible to those who might 
 seek shelter behind them. These arrangements had 
 scarcely been completed when the storm, heralded by a 
 magnificent outburst of lightning, broke over them as it 
 hurried by in all its terrors. It was now in the imagina 
 tion of each one for so the Huguenots afterwards de 
 scribed it, as though the foundations of the earth were 
 shaken, and its pillars were trembling at the voice of the 
 Creator. 
 
 Not a word could be exchanged between the travellers. 
 Alicia had instinctively nestled by the pastor while holding 
 to her throbbing heart one of the babes which, as she rode, 
 she had tended. The storm had continued with unabated 
 fury for the space of an hour, when a voice was heard 
 shouting from the rocks above ; seeming, in the pauses of 
 those terrific gusts, to hold the language of encourage-
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 83 
 
 ment. It was the voice of the guide ; he had chanced, 
 though almost too late, to recall to his recollection a retreat 
 close by, which many years before had afforded, in similar 
 straits, the needed protection to a party of travellers. The 
 muleteers were not long in comprehending him, and one 
 by one the Huguenots mounted a few feet of rugged pre 
 cipitous rock, flanked securely on both sides by almost 
 perpendicular rocks. The ascent was short ; at its highest 
 point they beheld below them the mouth of a cave. 
 
 Never was protection from the elements more welcome. 
 As they followed the guide within, the darkness became 
 deeper and deeper, till suddenly a bright light beamed out 
 before them; which became stronger as they proceeded. 
 In a short while, all found themselves ushered into an im 
 mense amphitheatre, half roofed with rock, on the sides 
 of which hung trailing plants and countless galaxies of 
 flowers. Far away, in the opposite direction to that which 
 they had entered, and far above them, peered in, like hope 
 upon despair, a patch of clear blue sky. To many of the 
 simple villagers if villagers they could be longer deemed 
 the phenomenon was incomprehensible; the prattling 
 children were silent, supposing, no doubt, that they had 
 entered some new world ; and when the guide explained 
 that the huge bastion into which all were now drawn, lay 
 between two separate climes, was in fact the outer wall 
 of that vast mountain kingdom, the oldest could not re 
 frain from expressions of surprise. 
 
 "If God hath so beautified this cavern of darkness," 
 exclaimed the aged pastor, "and hath, together with its 
 beauty, made of it a place of refuge, will he not, also, be
 
 as rich and free in those gifts which go to bless bis people ? 
 yea, to this afl tike saints on earth and angels in heaven 
 
 These words were spoken in that quiet and solemn tone 
 which prepare tike heart to listen, and in that listening, 
 brings eonriction. Immediately the pilgrims took up one 
 of their sweetest songs, and in that place of silence, the 
 JfllaiM of which was only broken by tike Basses of snow 
 which were fang like biDows all around, they praised the 
 goodness which had led !<, and which they believed 
 -:--\ --I! rr ::*;-: tirii. 
 
 The storm passed off as suddenly as it had come: the 
 glide, who knew its daration by its strength, frequently 
 wart oat to descry the first signs of its abatement. Soon 
 a fVftf* heaven invited aD to journey on. 
 
 "Where shall we find rest, my father?" said Alicia as 
 she cmciyd from the care, holding in fear, the hand of 
 the TenrraMe pastor with whom that title, expressive of 
 Teneration and IOYC, was not unfamiliar. I ask this not 
 for my sake but for your own," continued Alicia. 
 
 I am indeed grieved," said the old man, wholly for 
 getful o or TrrmMriir'ffg the icfacncc this question had to 
 hisaiii If to his own fatigue, with which Alicia sincerely 
 sympathized "I am indeed griered at the sufferings of 
 my people, and would to Heaven, that these were now 
 ended. I know not how long we may be doomed to travel 
 in thrnr mountain fastnesses ; many a weary league, doubt- 
 lir-.. --.-. '.-,- '.,-7.:. : -:-. 
 
 " The spot m about two days' journey hence," responded 
 their guide, in rough, but neither unwelcome or obtrusive
 
 THE HUUUK80T. * : 
 
 tones; mad seeing that Alicia and the pastor cartoned 
 attentive, he added: "and a right quiet and 
 pot h is. It is just visible from tne end of our g 
 route, and is half covered with wood, and cascade! shoot 
 down its sides. In the centre rises a knoD of laud, 
 the very spot OB which to build a church. I can just 
 imagine, too, how pleasant it would be to hear a befl toHmg 
 there every mom and every evening: how it would ring 
 amidst the sofitodes. so fcigh and bare, that skirt the basin 
 round, with a homelike, a rejoicing sound. Not that I 
 would often hear it," continued the muleteer, "but that 
 to others it might gire joy. However, h was but a i 
 thought, and now the thought is told, 
 too, on that airy woodland din^ woold they not gfcam beau 
 tifully, when lighted from within I" 
 
 The guide, as if half inhimfd to kare given ssek vait 
 to his ideas and feelings, ideas and feelings almost ex- 
 toned by the gentleness and open heartedness of his 
 Lr .:-:-. ;:rv5i- i. 11:^7 Lii^'j : :^:.: '. : : : .:. :_r ii~^i.:^i 
 body. 
 
 On the evening of the eighth day. and from a lofty ledge 
 of rocks, the Huguenots descried the vaDey of Piedmont, 
 the vale which the guide had so entfammsticaliy dwelt 
 upon. Though the Huguenots had not sought ft out fur 
 earthly beaut- oM not gaze on the lovely panorama 
 
 without praise, and an emotion of joy, hugbKmcd by the 
 aumiance that they there uuuuuiui lasting and peaceful 
 possession. The hills of perpetual, though not of un- 
 douded beauty which girded it. might well foster the spirit 
 of devotion. None, they felt, could live amidst them, and 
 not feel their thoughts continually led up to Heai 
 
 I
 
 86 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 Beautiful was the sunset light, as it poured down upon 
 that valley, and sweet the mellow radiance as, tint by 
 tint, it died away. The mountain-tops around shone out 
 with splendour, long after all was dark and unseen below j 
 separated from the earth, those snowy summits seemed 
 part of the bright pavements of the heavens ; and one 
 excited by imagination, might have in it looked for choirs 
 of angels moving to and fro, or engaged in bright and 
 calm communion. 
 
 The dawn of day beheld the entire party descending a 
 dry and steep gorge, which, with many abrupt changes in 
 its course, led to their purchased possessions far below. 
 Their faithful guides had set out on return still earlier, yet 
 not till they had been well, nay, considering the limited 
 resources of the Huguenots, even munificently rewarded. 
 At the parting there were, of course, mutual expressions 
 of regret. 
 
 The Huguenots, on the departure of the guides, with 
 this last link of connexion broken up, felt still more 
 strongly their isolation, and, except amidst themselves, 
 their utter loneliness. 
 
 The establishment of this colony in a new and untried 
 region, is a matter of history. To trace, therefore, its 
 early struggles its many adversities the dawn of assured 
 prosperity its final abandonment for a yet more remote, 
 a more secluded spot, is the work of other pens. Enough 
 that no disastrous chances ever wholly thwarted the pure 
 designs of its founders ; that, if it seldom obtained acces 
 sions to its membership, it retained its inborn strength. 
 
 If a love of retirement and security had an influence in
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 87 
 
 determining the choice of this spot, it was for a length of 
 time completely gratified. The bold and precipitous crags 
 that rose round defied pursuit, able as they were to defend 
 with a small body of equipped men the pass by which only 
 it was accessible. And even the existence of that pass 
 was a secret, communicated to them by their guides, the 
 honesty and trustworthiness of whom, sustained immacu 
 lately as this character had been from generation to gene 
 ration, could not be doubted. 
 
 The guarding of the pass was a very easy matter, there 
 fore, and when accomplished, the entire colony turned at 
 once to those pursuits which might provide them subsistence 
 and comfort. The soil proved good and fertile ; and, as 
 again the season of the reapers came, the earth, that with 
 rude means of husbandry they had tilled, afforded a sufficient 
 yield to save them from the necessity of ever sending in 
 quest of foreign supply. In process of time, neat and sub 
 stantial cottages arose ; for the Huguenots, being skilled 
 in every kind of handicraft, were enabled to use to the best 
 advantage whatever material was presented on which to 
 work. Presently, on the knoll first pointed out by the 
 guide, rose a simple church, in which their prayers and 
 praises daily resounded. It had no spire, and was com 
 pletely hid in a luxuriant ambush of trees. It was a pic 
 turesque sight to see the groups wending up towards it by 
 a shelving path, or coming from it with their faces informed 
 with the teachings of the word. Occasionally a chamois- 
 hunter on the heights above, would startle them from their 
 re very of happiness ; but as the air closed again upon his
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 rapid path, or the report of a single gun died away, assu 
 rance would return, and they would smile at their own fears. 
 
 Alicia was charmed with the new abode ; and notwith 
 standing many tearful regrets for the home of her father 
 a home to her now no more she readily adapted herself 
 to the exigencies of new circumstances, selecting as her 
 employment the education of the young children. 
 
 Then, and not till then, were the heights and depths of 
 her character fully developed. Powers of endurance and 
 self-denial that, had she remained in her father's halls, 
 might ever have slumbered unobserved, now shone in sur 
 passing beauty. Cheerfully and unmurmuringly she en 
 dured her share of the privations to which the little band 
 were exposed. Indeed, the secluded glens of that isolated 
 valley witnessed scenes exhibiting, in hundreds of instances, 
 the noblest traits of human character.
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 89 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Of her spirit's grief 
 
 She never spoke. But as the flush of health 
 Receded from her cheek, her patient eye 
 Gathered new lustre ; and the mighty wing 
 Of that supporting angel seemed to gird 
 Closer her languid bosom." 
 
 L. SiaOUKlTBT. 
 
 "Joy! for the peasant, when his vintage task 
 
 Is closed at eve ! But most of all for her, 
 
 Who, when her life had changed its glittering robes 
 
 For the dull garb of sorrow, which doth cling 
 
 So heavily around the journeyers on, 
 
 Cast down its weight, and slept." 
 
 . F. HEMANS. 
 
 SOON after this settlement of the Huguenots, Alicia em 
 braced an opportunity of addressing a letter to her father, 
 in explanation of the cause of her deserting her home and 
 those so dear to her ; beseeching, too, his forgiveness, and 
 begging him at least to remember her kindly, and let her 
 name be still a household word. The time arrived which 
 she hoped would bring an answer from France. With 
 trembling anxiety she waited ; but she waited long in vain. 
 Month after month went by, and then, joy ! a letter was 
 handed her in the well-known handwriting of her father. 
 It had on it the Paris post-mark, at which she cast an eager 
 glance of recognition. Deeply as her interest was excited, 
 she yet felt it was the first token of an endless separation 
 the first lines from one whose anger she was prepared to 
 abide, if conditional on the retainment of her present faith. 
 Hastily retiring to a spot where she might be unobserved, 
 
 8*
 
 90 TKUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 she drew the letter from her bosom, and cast one more 
 look upon that dear familiar -writing : her temples throbbed, 
 and her heart beat rapidly. It was some moments before 
 her trembling fingers could break the seal. When she did 
 so, her most sad conjectures were confirmed her own 
 letter was returned. This was enough. She closed her 
 eyes for a few minutes as if in prayer : thus gathering 
 strength, she took courage to read the few sentences trans 
 mitted ; they were brief and harsh, and read thus : 
 " For the last time I address one who so far forgot her 
 birth as to disgrace the name of her family, by communion 
 with a set of ignoble heretics. I never can forget the insult 
 ,of a child who left her home clandestinely." 
 
 "Cast off!" faintly escaped the lips of Alicia, as she 
 crushed the missive in her fingers. 
 
 From the moment that Alicia read those cruel lines, a 
 marked change was visible in her health. Her manner be 
 came languid, and her varying colour was followed by an 
 unnatural paleness. In the mean time, winter came on in 
 its most severe and boisterous form. Alicia, whose spirits 
 were as precarious as her health, was forced to abandon her 
 visits to the surrounding cottages. She herself seemed at 
 first unconscious of any change, and continued quietly busy 
 in her appointed task of teaching ; but the time came when 
 her frame was too weak to escape her own notice. The 
 sure symptoms of that complaint which though slow is 
 sure, were rapidly gaining ground. On her cheeks there 
 presently appeared those signs known to those who have 
 watched the progress of consumption. Her increasing 
 weakness at length alarmed all ; devoted friends observed
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 91 
 
 that she became thinner and paler from day to day; that 
 all but the cheerful sweetness of her smile was gone. 
 Yet as her body drooped, her spirit became more heavenly, 
 and the expression of her face increased in interest and 
 beauty. Never was the record of a holy character and holy 
 life more plainly read, than on that lovely countenance, 
 where peace and love seemed to have met together. She 
 seemed to have no anxiety but to obtain, before departure, 
 reconciliation with those whose memory she so dearly 
 cherished in her exile. She at length determined to ap 
 peal once more to her father, and accordingly wrote the 
 following letter, which she accompanied with a few lines to 
 the Count, her lover, with a request that he would use his 
 influence in gaining for the letter she confided to his care, 
 a perusal, if for no other reason than that it was a dying 
 communication. 
 
 " MY BELOVED FATHER, 
 
 " The tone of resentment in which you last addressed 
 me leaves me but little hope of your pardon ; yet I feel 
 that I cannot die until I again entreat your forgiveness. I 
 will not afflict you any more in appealing to your compas 
 sion, which I might do by describing the anguish your 
 letter gave me. In the long night-watches of my illness 
 in this distant region your angry image is ever before me. 
 I would fain tell all that is in my heart ; yet my strength 
 fails, and all I have power to do is to entreat your for 
 giveness, my father. These are the last lines your child 
 will ever trace. Except this letter, all record of my love 
 for you will ere long perish in the grave. Your affec 
 tionate child, ALICIA."
 
 92 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 The cold of winter, the changeful season of the spring, 
 had been followed by the bursting bud and early blossoms 
 of summer. The broad fields of the Huguenots lay smiling 
 in the sun, which lighted up with ever-varying splendour 
 the beautiful scenery of the Alps ; the trees were clothed 
 in green, and the gardens for this pleasure the Hugue 
 nots could not forego were filled with flowers. All things 
 wore a look of peace and beauty, and a reigning stillness 
 heightened this expression. It was in the afternoon of a 
 sultry day, that Alicia, who seemed slightly to have revived, 
 caused her chair to be wheeled to the window of the cot 
 tage which was her abode, and which was sheltered by 
 dark and thick foliaged trees, which threw around it a 
 grateful shade. Her chamber overlooked a good part of 
 the surrounding country ; its furniture was simple in the 
 extreme, but beautifully clean and neat; some simple 
 drawings and a tasteful book-case hung against the walls. 
 The room was not wanting in other resources of enjoy 
 ment. On a small table, the polish of which was hid from 
 view by its simple covering, lay a few paintings, together 
 with an English Bible, and several articles of unfinished 
 needlework. Artificial flowers, in slender jars, were set in 
 the bright windows. 
 
 Seated upon a low stool at Alicia's feet was a young 
 girl of striking grace and beauty. She was at this time 
 warbling in a low tone one of the favourite airs of the pro 
 vince of Dauphind; and every now and then turned 
 towards the sufferer to smooth her pillow, or by words of 
 kindness to soothe her shattered spirits. It was Annie 
 Lorraine, the early confidant and friend of Alicia, and
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 93 
 
 now her attentive and gentle nurse. She watched day 
 and night beside her dying friend, and none could have 
 watched as well as she. A low, breathing air from off 
 the mountains entered by the open lattice. We have 
 omitted to tell that the little church too, endeared by 
 so many associations, could be discerned in occasional 
 glimpses from this spot. 
 
 A scene so beautiful might have produced its happiest 
 effect upon a mind less sad than that of the invalid's, but 
 she was thinking how soon the feet of the living would 
 tread over her faded form. Notwithstanding all the affec 
 tionate efforts of Annie, she continued in an abstracted 
 mood ; her sorrow was too deep to be accessible to any 
 earthly consolation. 
 
 Suddenly Annie started, for on looking 'without she had 
 discerned strange figures on the loftiest edge of that 
 precipitate path which formed a key to the Huguenotic 
 abode. Regarding their appearance as an extraordinary 
 event, she communicated her wonder to Alicia, who was 
 still more surprised. As the two watched for the sight 
 of Alicia had become piercingly clear they perceived the 
 strangers hold a sort of parley with the sentinels of the 
 pass ; after which they commenced an unobstructed and 
 rapid descent. 
 
 An hour passed away, and the intruders had disappeared 
 in the purple gloom below, when suddenly the latch of the 
 garden gate was heard to move, and two strangers entered. 
 Annie, who conjectured at once who they were, as well as 
 the object of their visit, arose and threw open the door of 
 the chamber. Another moment, and the dying girl was
 
 of. 
 
 - :, 
 
 - _ - ._:
 
 FLORENCE DE EOHAN.
 
 A FRAGMENT FROM THE HISTORY OF NAPOLEON.* 
 
 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 " From the bounds of truth careering, 
 Man's strong spirit wildly sweeps, 
 With each hasty impulse veering, 
 Down to passion's troubled deeps, 
 And his heart contented never, 
 Chaseth its own dream for ever!" 
 
 OF the many dark and portentous events that continue 
 in man's remembrance in connexion with Napoleon's won 
 derful career, there is none on which the historian has so 
 often been called to ponder, as that of the death of the 
 Duke D'Enghien. 
 
 That the death of the Duke D'Enghien was as unde- 
 
 * In 1804, the conspiracy of Pichegru was detected by Napoleon. 
 During the examination of some of the prisoners, Napoleon ascertained 
 that a person unknown had attended some of the Royalists' meetings, 
 and was received with great ceremony and respect. The description of 
 this unknown person, as Napoleon affected to believe, corresponded 
 so well with that of the Duke D'Enghien, a son of the Duke De Bourbon, 
 that he ordered that prince's arrest, and gave such minute directions as 
 rendered it evident that his destruction was already determined. B.
 
 100 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 served, as it was sudden and violent, all men know, and 
 know so well, that the most subtle ingenuity has been 
 continually baffled in the endeavour to provide for this act 
 a solution that may not conflict with the most boundless 
 admiration for the hero. But the common judgment of 
 mankind, which seldom for any length of time can err, 
 casting away such sophistry, has finally referred the most 
 efficient cause of this deed to Napoleon's fear that the 
 Duke D'Enghien might ultimately thwart his imperial pro 
 jects. The connexion that the life of the Duke had with 
 Napoleon's fortunes, Napoleon himself best could tell. 
 We will trace in outline the historical position of the 
 
 subsequently appeared that the Duke had not been at Paris at all, and 
 that the stranger was no other than Pichegru. The Prince was ar 
 rested in his bed, on the night of March 15th, carried to Paris, and 
 lodged in the Castle of Vincennes. Everything here was prepared for 
 his reception, and his grave dug. He reached Vincennes at 7 o'clock in 
 the evening, and was immediately summoned to attend the sitting of the 
 commission on the spot. No evidence was brought against him ; no 
 witnesses were examined ; a simple act of accusation was read to him, 
 charging him with conspiring against France. The law in such a case 
 required that the accused should be allowed counsel ; but none was 
 granted, and he was compelled at midnight to enter unaided on his own 
 defence, which consisted in a simple and manly denial of any criminal 
 practice whatever on his part towards the government of France. He 
 earnestly requested a private audience with Napoleon ; this was de 
 nied. They then proceeded, without a vestige of evidence against him, 
 to pronounce him guilty, and under the peremptory direction of Napo 
 leon, previously delivered, they ordered him to immediate execution ; 
 and in the fosse of the castle he fell, pierced by seven balls. The start 
 ling intelligence of the bloody deed excited both terror and indignation 
 in every court of Europe, and was loudly stigmatized as a bloody and 
 needless murder. Alison's History of Europe.
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. 101 
 
 event before bringing into view, and into as orderly an ar 
 rangement as possible, its concurrent incidents and circum 
 stances. We can do no more ; these incidents, these cir 
 cumstances can by no possibility be blent they possess 
 neither unity nor fitness. The unchecked development of 
 a wicked and powerful heart, like the flowing lava of a 
 heated volcano, can make only waste and desolation, all 
 that is good it isolates. Yet, is its work not wholly unin 
 teresting : affection, love, devotion, lifted high above its 
 power, resembling in this the scattered stars of verdure on 
 the pale steeps of Etna, bloom on us with an almost un 
 earthly beauty the preachers of mortal constancy and of 
 spiritual immortality. Alas ! as we gaze, the stems are 
 scorched, the flowers fall, their fragrance ascends to heaven, 
 and their dust is scattered ! 
 
 The time of the mournful tragedy which constitutes this 
 fragment, was when France, by the success of its arms, 
 was executing plans unprecedented in their character. 
 Setting aside all common maxims, and rejecting all 
 common means, it had so weakened and dissolved powerful 
 confederacies, that now Austria and England alone main 
 tained the contest. The magnitude, together with the 
 atrociousness of the deed, may be estimated by the fact, 
 that though Europe at the period of its occurrence had 
 become inured to scenes of blood, and could hear without 
 emotion of armies being swept away in fewer days than 
 had been required to collect and equip them, yet limited, 
 almost personal as it was, it sent a thrill of horror through 
 all the veins of European society, and effected a revulsion 
 
 9*
 
 102 
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 of feeling that has no parallel in the moral annals of man 
 kind. 
 
 In this issue it was that Napoleon's character shone out 
 boldly and confessedly as the enemy of mankind. The steel- 
 written declaration that no innocence, no rank, no sanctity 
 could render life inviolable, dismayed even the most active 
 promoters of the Revolution, who till now had imagined 
 that the French nation, with an unexampled unanimity 
 and perseverance, had recovered at last the long-lost rights 
 of freedom, and that the system of government framed 
 according to their wishes was surely tending to secure 
 their happiness. 
 
 The tale of sorrow now to be opened out cannot, there 
 fore, want a background a background, the sombre hue 
 of which is only illumined by the startled enthusiasm of 
 those who would offer to Napoleon the highest worship 
 that mortal man can give his fellow, those with whom, and 
 it is no rare creed, 
 
 " One murder makes a villain, 
 Millions a hero !" 
 
 Just within the boundary line of Austria whose exten 
 sive, populous, and fertile provinces had excited at once 
 the envy and jealousy of Napoleon and on a sloping 
 plain, hemmed in by wooded plantations and dotted by a 
 few straggling cottages, he and his great army halted, 
 immediately after engagement in one of the most brilliant 
 battles that history has recorded. Brilliant, but inglorious ! 
 Austria had presented a noble, though useless opposition. 
 The French army, inspired by an almost supernatural
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. 103 
 
 excitement, and aided by local circumstances, had fully 
 evinced its own superiority. There was an advantage of 
 another kind on which Napoleon had well and safely cal 
 culated. The dominions of the house of Austria being 
 unconnectedly situated, a long time was ne*cessary for the 
 march of Austrian levies from one extremity of the empire 
 to another. These battalions, too, being composed of a 
 variety of nations, differing in manner and opposed in 
 interest, it was frequently as difficult a matter to unite as 
 to collect them. The resources of France, on the contrary, 
 were immediately at hand ; its soldiers were united in one 
 compact body, so closely concentrated as to admit, on this 
 account, of no embarrassment. As it was, the valour and 
 genius of Napoleon was adjudged to have won the day ; 
 and from all the clamour and confusion common to a noisy 
 and reckless army, there arose from this place of encamp 
 ment, clear and distinct, those ingenuous ascriptions of 
 praise on which Napoleon was wont to set so high a value. 
 It was evening as the division sent in pursuit of strag 
 gling parties of the enemy drew itself up above the base 
 of the broad hill. As twilight deepened, the battle-field 
 close by faded gradually from every eye, till again the 
 lighted camp-fires brought portions into view, tenfold more 
 horrible by the heavy crimson mist that hung around 
 the flames, now made fantastic by sudden and furious 
 gusts of wind. The officers of the army, elated by a success 
 that promised a speedy advancement in their respective 
 ranks, had relaxed a good deal of their usual discipline 
 the extreme severity of which was, perhaps, the only ex 
 pressed cause of discontent on the part of Napoleon's sol-
 
 104 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 diers soldiers who followed him with a half-inspired devo 
 tion, ready at any moment to sacrifice life, if only they 
 might enhance his fame. 
 
 As though fierce passion, in all its varieties, had been 
 completely expended, the merry flow of mirth was to be 
 heard in every division of the camp. The men, assembled 
 in little bands, drank heartily to the health of their com 
 rades. As night wore on, the best and idlest tales, were 
 told, the most wonderful feats were alluded to with evident 
 gusto, each recital being occasionally heightened by a few 
 fictitious touches, whilst all the meritorious deeds of the 
 dead, who, alas ! could never contradict them, were credited 
 to their own mighty, potent, individual selves. It was 
 no time for those gentle thoughts, which no deeds of blood 
 can ever effectually eradicate from the human heart, and 
 which, however pressed down, will yet always bloom again, 
 giving to the oppressed a respite, and to the tyrant a 
 season for repentance. Now and then a few of the loqua 
 cious and excited multitude would look sad and grave, 
 rather perhaps from the undefined apprehension of retribu 
 tion than from the workings of remorse. Each one needed 
 rest ; scarce one but felt too excited to wish repose. One 
 regiment after another, however, dropped down exhausted, 
 yet not to sleep ; for from where they lay were heard une 
 quivocally wide-awake expressions the language of men 
 wholly wrought upon by their inflamed senses. The officers 
 of the army, with their usual private zeal, took good care 
 to ensconce themselves in the private dwellings which hap 
 pened to be situated at convenient distances on the slope.
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. 105 
 
 The best one of these was, of course, reserved for their 
 commander. 
 
 We have little to do 'with the external aspect of the 
 French commander's headquarters. It was simply a pile 
 of stone, of no describable shape or form, but bearing un 
 erring marks of age in the ivy that clung about it. Its 
 inhabitants had fled the previous night, and probably were 
 not so much as thought of in this summary action of 
 possession. The light in the second story of the edifice 
 flashed down on two sentinels engaged in the mechanical 
 operation of pacing to and fro as guardians of the hallowed 
 precincts. The interior of that apartment, only made 
 noticeable by the presence of its transient guest, exhibited 
 an extreme paucity of furniture, such furniture, however, 
 as preserved in itself a memento of better and richer times. 
 A high and massive mantel-piece, rudely carved, extended 
 over a fire, made up of every burnable material that could 
 be laid hold of. The flames of this fire incessantly em 
 ployed themselves in multiplying the shadows of three an 
 tique chairs ; meanwhile, on an oaken table, a lamp burned 
 with a quiet and contented air, despite the gambols of the 
 shadows on the floor and on the walls. Close by sat 
 Napoleon, dictating a series of despatches to his private 
 secretary ; a task that was no sooner got through than the 
 secretary was dismissed. Napoleon, now rising up, threw 
 off the greater part of his military dress, and commenced 
 pacing up and down that large, open chamber, with a rest 
 less and unsatisfied air : a mood to be remarked in a man 
 whose placidity the most alarming incidents could hardly 
 ruffle. At intervals his hand passed rapidly over his 
 I
 
 106 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 brow, his lips were compressed, his countenance lost its 
 meaning, and his eyes their animation. 
 
 It was at this time that one of his marshals, sans 
 ceremonie, entered the apartment, and observing that Na 
 poleon was struggling with apparently opposite emotions, 
 determined to divert his attention. With a celerity that 
 might have done honour to a courtier, he referred to the 
 advantages sure to recur from the late conflict. His com 
 panion, with that ready command of thought that he 
 possessed in so wonderful a degree, entered warmly into 
 topics as diverse from his former meditations as pos 
 sible. His remarks were so forcible as to show that his 
 entire mind was thrown into them, and might even have 
 discovered to one less intimate how long he had resolved 
 the conquest of Austria in his mind, and with how clear a 
 foresight he had formed his plans of policy respecting it. 
 It was thus an hour passed away ; and the visit terminated 
 with mutual expressions of satisfaction. On the comparison 
 of opinions, both had satisfied themselves that though the 
 territories of Austria were disadvantageously situated in 
 respect to foreign trade, its robust and hardy population 
 would enable France to levy numerous armies, on which 
 the imperial eagle might depend for conquest whenever 
 the enthusiasm that characterized the French nation should, 
 by any accident, subside. 
 
 Truly there was that which lay heavy on Napoleon's 
 heart, for no sooner had the door of his apartment closed, 
 than his broad chest heaved like the portentous motion of 
 the sea at the approach of storms ; his eyes, too, resumed 
 their former dulness. Ah! had he felt for those who, for
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. 107 
 
 his sake, lay stiffened in death beneath the open sky, this 
 might well have been; he might even have wept. No, 
 only of himself thought Napoleon, and of his destiny. 
 Hitherto he had worn the warrior's helmet ; he now 
 remembered that no purple robes had yet fallen on his 
 shoulders; he had not yet touched the diadem he coveted, 
 and had pressed but the lower steps of that throne which, 
 without warning, he afterwards ascended. Had his final 
 greatness, in all its plenitude, been clear that night, with 
 all its sequence of unutterable misery, the prospect might 
 well have tortured him. It was not so ; and yet his firm- 
 set limbs shook at intervals, whilst, apparently unconscious 
 of the act, he would take up and throw down the military 
 cap that he had worn during the day, and continually 
 loosen and refasten the button of his gray surtout. These 
 incidents are not wanting in significancy, for Napoleon 
 was wont to assume, on almost all occasions, a reposeful 
 and cheerful manner. His present mood, if like the 
 inroad of a sullen tide over golden sands, like a tide 
 went as quickly down, giving way to that keen, rejoicing 
 expression which feeds on bright, unalloyed anticipation. 
 A disposition to cheerfulness was scarce ever absent from 
 Napoleon, and even when his career as the conqueror of 
 nations had for ever terminated, his buoyant mind brought 
 round him at fitful seasons, in strengthened splendour, the 
 charmed imaginings of youthful days. With such a man, 
 was cheerfulness to be wondered at on the eve of a victory 
 that made more tangible the object of his ambition ? The 
 wildest aspirations that can enter a mortal heart were 
 about being fulfilled; France would recognise him, with
 
 108 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 new prestiges, as her most successful general; and what 
 was more, his sagacity and intelligence had enabled him to 
 estimate the extent of his power. 
 
 Hitherto France had exhibited the unpromising spectacle 
 of a nation divided into a number of discordant factions ; 
 its military force in a disorganized state, without an army 
 capable of looking the enemy in the face, and without any 
 general in whom the nation could place confidence. The 
 armies of the confederates, at the same time, were numerous 
 and well disciplined, flushed by expectation, and encouraged 
 by the most probable appearance of success a condition 
 met by the most complete defeat and disaster. As a 
 statesman, Napoleon had reason to feel proud; for not 
 only did he perceive the most successful method of subju 
 gating mankind, but knew himself able to prepossess their 
 minds in favour of any yoke he chose to impose. He had 
 adopted a matchless system of proselytism, and one most 
 easy to carry out. The minds of all classes in France had 
 been put in a state of delusion from visionary theories, or 
 become corrupted by the expectation of advancing their 
 private interests in the bustle of innovation, and amidst 
 the vicissitudes of political confusion. The only restraint 
 upon their pride of belief that all things might be made 
 new, was the fact that Austria had always been able 
 to present a formidable front, affording an apparently 
 insurmountable obstacle to the extension of French do 
 minion and power in that quarter. Napoleon remembered 
 this and rejoiced, and as he pondered in that empty room, 
 he inwardly determined to assume a more dictatorial tone. 
 He could not forbear withal from picturing his next return
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. 109 
 
 to France, to that people whose interests had now become 
 identified with his own. It was no dream; but again 
 a shadow fell over the beaming pathway, and his heart 
 underwent eclipse. His step soon became less rapid, and 
 at intervals he gave utterance to sentences abrupt, impas 
 sioned, but almost meaningless. A calm and quiet gravity 
 succeeded ; and seating himself upon a chair, he fixed his 
 eyes on the fire, which an attendant, who had just entered 
 the apartment, was piling up. In a short while, and pro 
 bably without intention, he bent over the outspread map 
 that lay on the table at his side ; but, strangely enough, a 
 roll of parchment rolled down upon it : the sight did not 
 please Napoleon, and again he relapsed into his former 
 listless mood. That parchment was the undespatched 
 order for the immediate execution of the Duke D'Enghien, 
 and lay here awaiting his signature. God alone knows 
 the unbidden thoughts that pressed round Napoleon during 
 that inward conflict of conscience Avith the darkest and 
 the most retributive passions. A moment more, and 
 smiles of mockery were traced on his stern features, as 
 if at his own imagined weakness. Napoleon was forgetful 
 that his hesitation sprung from the very humanity of the 
 nature that he wore vindicating itself, despoiled and dimmed 
 in glory as it was. 
 
 "This must not be," he exclaimed at length; "time flies, 
 and 'what thou doest do quickly.' Why do I hesitate? 
 Let this man be weighed against the millions that have 
 perished, and what is his worth?" In an instant more 
 the scroll was opened and the mighty hand of the con 
 queror grasped the pen; but ere that pen could touch the 
 
 10
 
 110 TEUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 document, a loud challenge of the guards without arrested 
 his attention. 
 
 "A friend," was the reply. At that late hour the 
 rejoinder was perfectly audible to Napoleon, who, glad of 
 interruption, rose from his chair and walked towards the 
 window. It was a night as beautiful with moon and stars 
 as ever blessed the earth. His quick sight detected a lady 
 mounted on horse, together with two attendants. The 
 appearance of the three strangers he could not but regard 
 as somewhat curious; the circumstance, at least, was 
 sufficiently surprising to raise many a head from its 
 uneasy pillow, and fix many a roving eye that fain would 
 have caught glimpse of the intruders. Napoleon, at a loss 
 to understand the object of the visit, stood motionless until 
 an aid-de-camp opened the door of the chamber to request 
 permission, on behalf of the visitant, for an interview. 
 "There is a female without," said Dupont, for that was 
 the name of the officer; "I take her to be a lady of rank." 
 
 Napoleon neither spoke nor moved, so the aid con 
 tinued : " She rode up to our outposts in company with 
 two attendants, and desired to speak with the commanding 
 officer. Her business seems important." The French 
 general was too good a soldier, and too heedful of his duty 
 to suffer annoyance from a visitant at this late hour ; and 
 he accordingly directed the immediate admission of the 
 applicant. 
 
 In a few moments a lady arrayed in deep mourning 
 was ushered in. Her dress was evidently assumed for dis 
 guise; and the observant general discovered at a glance, 
 what indeed no disguise could conceal, that she was pos-
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. Ill 
 
 sessed both of rank and station. The first sensation of 
 the stranger, on finding herself in the presence of Napo 
 leon and his aid, appeared to be that of an alarmed and 
 shrinking delicacy ; but quickly recovering her accustomed 
 air of quiet dignity, she took an offered seat near the now 
 smouldering fire. After a most embarrassing pause, Na 
 poleon abruptly broke the silence: 
 
 " To what, madam, am I indebted for the honour of this 
 visit?" 
 
 " General Bonaparte," was the reply, in a voice sweetly 
 clear, " I wish to speak to you in private for a few moments." 
 
 "We will retire," said Dupont, with proper courtesy. 
 As the last footsteps of the officer became inaudible, 
 the lady threw aside her cloak and hood, which had effec 
 tually concealed her features. Her companion started in 
 amazement ; he could scarcely credit the evidence of his 
 senses when he saw before him the lady with whom the 
 Duke D'Enghien was known to have exchanged vows of 
 affection, the consummation of which had been suspended 
 by the Duke's untimely arrest. Napoleon's ultimate 
 design respecting the Duke had plainly been anticipated. 
 To conceal a momentary surprise, the perturbed warrior 
 crossed the room and closed the door, which was still ajar. 
 Returning to his seat, he said coldly, 
 
 " I know not whether to censure or admire the energy 
 that has led the daughter of a Bourbon to enter my camp 
 at this unseasonable time, although not unaware of the 
 motives by which you may seek to justify this act." 
 
 The intruder instantly rose from her chair, dismayed 
 at these studiously sarcastic tones, so foreign to human 
 feeling and sympathy. Astonishment seemed to grow
 
 112 TRUTH AND 1'ANCY. 
 
 upon her, till she looked more like a beautiful statue than 
 a living being. As she sank down alarmed and exhausted, 
 her face buried in her hands, tears those most eloquent 
 of witnesses to the heart's sorrow flowed abundantly ; but 
 quickly recovering that dignity which never long forsakes 
 a noble woman, she replied, in a half-reproachful air : 
 " It is not necessary to tell General Bonaparte, that no 
 trifling errand would tempt me to such a venturesome act; 
 and that he may see I take no idle liberty, let me explain 
 my motives." The speaker hesitated, and with difficulty 
 added: " I believe that my person is known to you." 
 
 "Undoubtedly," returned Napoleon, who had the faculty 
 of remembering all whom he had once seen ; " you are the 
 betrothed bride of the Duke D'Enghien." 
 
 " If, then, you know of my engagement, you will at 
 once acknowledge strong cause for my interest in his wel 
 fare. There was a time when I should have shrunk as 
 from death from such an avowal ; but now I hesitate not 
 to own my love for him. It is this which has brought me 
 alone to your camp ; there is no earthly sacrifice from 
 which I would now shrink, if I might only " 
 
 A quick and restless motion of the man whom she con 
 fronted followed this appeal, made the more touching by 
 its incompletion ; and she looked into his face as if to 
 gather some sign of mercy. Certain it is she was under 
 stood. 
 
 Rigid as ever were those features; and yet she was 
 speaking to one who held in his hands the destiny of her 
 lover ! whose one word could restore him from the gloom 
 of a prison to the liberty of life !
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. 113 
 
 "The Duke D'Enghien," replied Napoleon, "is my 
 prisoner, under charge of the heavy crime of treason. He 
 has incurred its penalty, by acting as spy of the enemies 
 of France." 
 
 This was not without its effect upon the listener. " Be 
 lieve me," she exclaimed, "this charge is false ! Could I 
 forget my position and my sex for one so unworthy of his 
 country's regard ? But even if he has erred, give him the 
 advantage of a fair trial." She paused, breathless and 
 agitated. 
 
 Napoleon's eye rested with a gentler expression upon her 
 glowing face. " The Duke d'Enghien," he replied, " ought 
 indeed to value an affection which can dare all things ; but 
 I cannot allow it to interfere with my duty to my country." 
 
 His manner alarmed the lady, for his face wore the ex 
 pression of one who is conscious of the possession of a 
 secret, the knowledge of which is to produce the most pain 
 ful emotions. Notwithstanding the calm resolution she had 
 displayed in the foregoing scene, she grew paler as she 
 whispered, with an earnestness that rendered the soft tones 
 of her voice doubly impressive, " I have come here to learn 
 the truth, General Bonaparte ; and it would be cruel in you 
 to conceal your intentions." 
 
 Napoleon gazed for the first time directly on the femi 
 nine loveliness of the beautiful creature before him, and at 
 the suspended animation on her countenance ; but the be 
 holding her had no influence to turn him from his firm 
 purpose, for he said, coldly: " I shall not conceal anything. 
 I will further allow that you possess the fullest right to 
 
 10*
 
 114 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 learn everything connected with one so nearly related. 
 His is no ordinary crime, mademoiselle ; and it becomes 
 my painful duty " He paused. 
 
 "Proceed!" cried the excited girl, nearly ceasing to 
 breathe in the intensity of her interest. A face colourless 
 with dread, set in startling contrast the lines of sternness 
 on the face of Napoleon, who, without trusting himself to 
 any utterance, drew forth the death-warrant, and placed 
 it in her hands. She took it with a sort of charmed sub 
 mission ; but the instant her eye fell on the engrossing 
 formulary words, an absorbing curiosity concentrated every 
 feeling. The document was concise, and its abrupt style 
 would have sufficiently identified the writer. The reader 
 read the roll a second time, from the first to the last letter, 
 before it produced any clear impression on her mind. She 
 could not bring home to herself the possibility that her 
 lover was immediately to be consigned to death. There 
 must be some mistake, she thought ; it could not be that 
 he to whom she had united every thought of earthly hap 
 piness was thus to die. This was truly a happy doubt, but 
 for which the shock of that sudden blow might have proved 
 fatal. When she had a third time read the scroll, her looks 
 turned eagerly to her companion, anxious to detect signs of 
 mercy of hope in his countenance. But Napoleon's inten 
 tion was too plain to be long misunderstood ; and when by 
 degrees this painful dream became a conviction, her whole 
 frame seemed giving way. The evidence of her lover's 
 doom held back her thoughts, even from heavenly consola 
 tion. Yet she continued in full consciousness ; the very 
 imminence of the danger endued her with strength to em-
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. 115 
 
 brace it in its most disheartening aspects ; and as she closed 
 her eyes, and leaned back, wearily, in the chair, she tried 
 to collect some sustaining consideration that yet might for 
 tify her from despair : but no ; her lover's death appeared 
 inevitable. 
 
 As Napoleon stood watching her in silence, she sud 
 denly raised herself from her posture of grief, and her 
 eyes shone with a wild meaning, as they became riveted 
 on his own. For one moment she pressed her hands to the 
 throbbing balls, and then in a voice so low that her lips 
 scarcely moved with the utterance, she whispered, " Gene 
 ral Bonaparte, you have doomed an innocent man to die 
 to die without guilt. The eye of the Almighty reads your 
 spirit while I speak ; and at the solemn hour when eternity 
 opens to you, you will remember the words of one whose 
 heart you have broken ! Yes," she added, with a look of 
 touching anguish, "you have destroyed my last hope ! and 
 yet oh ! what is this strange impulse of prophecy ! an 
 inward voice whispers to me that, as surely as I shall see 
 perish from before my eyes all I love on earth, for want of 
 a fellow-being's mercy, so will it be with you !" 
 
 The speaker paused ; her feelings, excited as they were, 
 could sustain her physical frame no longer ; and before 
 Napoleon could have made reply, she became insensible. 
 On recovery from her swoon she was seated in a chair, 
 her dress damp with the water that had been sprinkled 
 in her face ; and in that moment of illusion she fondly 
 trusted that the impression on her mind had been all a 
 dream. The sight of Napoleon, who still supported her, 
 dispelled the fancy ; and instantly withdrawing herself from
 
 116 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 his encircling arms, she walked to the door, descended the 
 solitary stairway, and recrossed the threshold. 
 
 The sentinels dropped their arms as this unknown visi 
 tant passed out, and interchanged expressive glances, as if 
 seeking in the countenances of each other some solution of 
 the interview. Several officers, with an air of the deepest 
 respect, passed forward to accompany the mysterious in 
 truder to the extremity of the camp. 
 
 Napoleon, after her abrupt and sudden departure, turned 
 with a look of chagrin towards the yet unsigned death-war 
 rant, and again his gaze recoiled quickly, with the air of one 
 not sufficiently at ease to feel any desire for repose. For 
 an hour he did no more than watch the motions of his time 
 piece motions that increased, in place of lessening, his 
 own impatience. Once more he sought employment for 
 his mind in looking on the lifeless moon pale and sorrow 
 ful as the face he had just seen, moving in the tranquil 
 heavens without voice or sound, without any cadence to 
 soothe his troubled spirit. As he pursued the current of 
 his thoughts, he became himself appalled at his meditated 
 purpose, and a virtuous indignation was about frustrating 
 the intention, when his ambition once more sprung up to 
 cancel the resolution. The baffled master of armies took 
 up the fatal document for the third time reperused it 
 this time with less reflection. Seizing his pen, and thrust 
 ing open the recoiling parchment, he wrote Napoleon 
 and all was over ! All over ? nay, not so ! The cloud of 
 doom rose in that moment unperceived, and began to over 
 shadow him. He felt, scarce knowing it, a sad regret at 
 the quick departure of the midnight visiter, who, at the
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. 117 
 
 eleventh hour, had preached to him repentance. What if 
 the prophecy should be fulfilled ! the prophecy of his fall 
 from that towering height, to which arms and menaces 
 were pledged to raise him ? It was a solemn and a gloomy 
 thought. 
 
 * * it % * * 
 
 The last shades of night were fleeing, when orders were 
 issued to the army to put itself again in motion. As the 
 soldiers sprang from their brief rest, and cast looks 
 towards the scene of their late warfare, they uttered the 
 most extravagant expressions of delight. The very horrors 
 of that warfare had made every heart more sensible to the 
 quiet loveliness of nature, exhibiting how truly that the 
 fiercest passions cannot entirely efface the heart's tenderest 
 sentiments. Gigantic forests, fertile valleys, and gushing 
 streamlets were lit up by the rising sun ; a warm southern 
 wind blew sweetly over, and the sky above bore only 
 those light fleecy clouds that sweep in the higher altitudes. 
 Though the eventful night was long since over, and, in the 
 memory of the roving legions, was no more than a grateful 
 recollection, the dark act, which ere this had consigned a 
 living being to the grave, still darkened one spirit with an 
 aspect of malignity. The bugle sounded shrill and clear, 
 inspiring a spirit of exultation in every soldier's breast ; 
 but without the camp, far away, was one who could never 
 hope again. 
 
 An hour after the orders had been given, every piece 
 of artillery, every baggage-wagon, was in motion. The 
 straggling houses on the slope, and the hamlets that dotted 
 the vast surrounding plains, were once more left to their
 
 118 TKUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 old sweet quiet, and the reassured villagers, now creeping 
 from their hiding-places, felt the joy of the condemned on 
 receiving a sudden reprieve. 
 
 During the march now commenced, the officers of Napo 
 leon made various attempts to introduce to his attention 
 the subject of the last night's adventure, little deeming 
 how gladly he would have forgotten it. A severe reproof 
 was the only answer condescended to these vain endea 
 vours, so that all expressions of curiosity were very readily 
 suppressed, under fear of exciting his displeasure.
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. 119 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 "What i^t that takes from thee 
 
 Thy comfort, pleasure, and thy golden sleep ? 
 Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth, 
 And start so often when thou sitt'st alone ? 
 Why hast thou lost the fresh hlood in thy cheek ? 
 Oh ! what portents are these T" 
 
 Two months had elapsed from the period in which the 
 incidents recorded in the last chapter transpired two 
 weary months, replete with events that concerned all 
 Europe, and which were made especially famous by the 
 incessant marches of the French armies. Presently 
 through all Europe, and along the peopled borders of 
 Asia, flew the tidings that Napoleon, the Lieutenant, the 
 General, the Consul, was to receive as his gift the crown 
 of France. Yet so great had been the slaughter, so many 
 the hearths still endangered or already bereft, as seriously 
 to check that hilarity which a triumph scarce ever fails 
 to excite in a victorious nation. Through blood Napoleon 
 had marched onward to the goal of his ambition ; fortress 
 after fortress had yielded to the, as yet, invincible hero, 
 and a continent was already peopled by his subjects. 
 
 No distress, personal or national, could gainsay such 
 success. The evening of the 2d of December found Na 
 poleon Emperor of France. In spite of the distresses of 
 war, the common people had by this time been in a great 
 measure restored to former comfort ; and, sharing in one
 
 Itt 
 
 TRUTH A? 
 
 common and united hope, they enjoyed heartily the day 
 of pomp which obliterated the title of First Consul, the 
 like of which day had not been witnessed since the time of 
 Charlemagne. Every public place was crowded with the 
 gar Parisians, while shoots of Vfwe Napoleon ! in every 
 direction rent the air. From the suburbs of Paris to the 
 waters of the Sane, matches of popular songs were con 
 stantly mhigKng in the shoots of the gay revellers. But 
 not alone for Paris was this time eventful ; the country 
 from every nook poured in her artisans and labourers, to 
 paj homage to the meteor which blazed so brightly. Yes ! 
 the lofty pinnacle was completely won. That day wit- 
 nbassadors from every city in Europe, bearing 
 of favour and distinction. Love of glory and thirst 
 of t :~rr ~r:e ItgatMl sitiifri. 
 
 As night drew on. the interior of the palace of the 
 Tmleries became Illumined with a splendour which made 
 every stone of that magnificent and ancient pile, and every 
 slate of the high slanting roof, clear to the shining multi 
 tudes who thronged the gardens round.* In their midst, 
 breast-high in foliage, and canopied by rustling boughs, 
 rose the white marble forms that Italy had loved : while 
 towards the Erjsian Fields, the bright watery columns 
 of a fountain rartahifd themselves almost as tranquilly. 
 Officers, in tike dress of their profession, loitered at the doors 
 
 * Tie Talent*, in Peris, fnate the rirer Seine, having four gnat 
 atnrflMaw with ;** and a fifth parflion coieted with a dome, under 
 which is the great hall and staircase which leads to the tipper apart- 
 meota. It was tool* by Low XTF., hariog oa oae ode beautiful gar- 
 deas, mmmitttim'A rtaiaary fro Italy. History of Frmet.
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHA^. 121 
 
 of that sumptuous edifice, as if unwilling to leave a scene of 
 &o much splendour, thus heightening its magnificence. Be 
 neath the central arch, and at the foot of the grand stair 
 case leading to the reception rooms, stern iMiiilinfln were 
 stationed; these, however, challenged none. So there 
 went up whoever listed : the young to see something new 
 the old to revive their faded dreams of royalty ;- 
 alike feverish with an undefined expectancy. It 
 though all the world that night would welcome its oppressor. 
 
 Surrounded by his brave marshals a chief amidst 
 chiefs Napoleon suffered group after group to gather 
 before him, reading by short and piercing glances the 
 character of each individual, and with a wonderful apti 
 tude suiting his words to the capacities of whomsoever 
 he addressed. Early in the evening, he withdrew; yet 
 not till a triumphant shout had risen from the dense mass 
 that still heaved, billow-like, without a shout taken up 
 and repeated, over and over by thousands yet beyond. 
 
 Napoleon, unfatigued, but satiated with the glories of 
 the day. repaired at an early hour to his own room : not, 
 however, to rest ; when midnight came, he was still sitting 
 pensive and alone. He noted not that the extravagant 
 illumination was fading away that activity and merri 
 ment were being changed to silence and forgetfulness. 
 
 The room he occupied was furnished in a style that, 
 if not suitable to a soldier, or remarkably adapted for the 
 lent of a republic, was at least worthy of an Em 
 peror. To look on Xapoleon himself, his visage was strik 
 ingly altered since the midnight interview with the be 
 trothed of bis murdered victim : the lines about his 
 
 11
 
 122 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 were darker and firmer, and constant exposure to unkindly 
 climates had darkened his complexion. His pallid features 
 told not only of months of hardship, but nights of wake- 
 fulness. The proportions of his frame, too, were enlarged. 
 These outward changes had been observed by the least 
 observing ; but even the most shrewd could have detected 
 more than one particular cause incessant labours and 
 watching for so striking and so swift a change. But up 
 to this moment self-consciousness, as a smouldering fire, 
 had been withering up his joy, almost without detection. 
 It now put forth its power with a strength that foreboded 
 only evil. The last visit of man's guardian angel is ever 
 propitious; and the posthumous journals of Napoleon dis 
 cover the fact that recollections which had lain torpid under 
 the excitement of successive triumphs, now sprung up within 
 him with severe fidelity. Each particular event in his 
 distinguished life seemed, with wonderful distinctness, to 
 stride forward into the present. The studies of his restless 
 youth the dawn of his reputation his rapid and flatter 
 ing success his present elevation ; all these marshalled 
 themselves in rapid survey, and obliterated that one great 
 avenging form. With his rise had commenced a new era ; 
 an era when eminence was to be won by merit so dreamed 
 he and valour have its full reward. It was not long that 
 his thoughts could thus intervene with his convictions; 
 but still the panorama of life continued to unwind. 
 
 He remembered, as it were but yesterday, the joyous 
 season of his youth, the fostering hands which caressed 
 him, the nursery on the floor of which he had once so 
 demurely played. Again he sat within the charmed circle
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. 123 
 
 of youthful hearts, and heard merry voices and noisy 
 laughter, or stood hand in hand with loved companions. 
 His mother, too, whom, if he had not followed in obedience, 
 he never failed to reverence as a saint, appeared to rise 
 out of the grave, like one who had not seen corruption, 
 and to pass before him in all the beauty and sanctity of 
 love. The innocent passion, the guileless serenity of those 
 days seemed revived. Prattling voices, and the voices of 
 the wind, the savour of green fields and the fragrance of 
 fresh flowers, came over him and then Suddenly the 
 whole scene died off; and wretchedness banishment from 
 the Paradise was in their stead. 
 
 What, after all, had power and fame brought him ? 
 Nothing but inquietude ; inquietude because of committed 
 crime and departed joy. 
 
 In bitterness of heart the Emperor started up and 
 paced the room with hurried steps ; as he did this, the 
 very atmosphere seemed to teem with unnatural life. A 
 mist came gradually up, and a thousand living shapes 
 were in it. He saw forms and faces that he knew were 
 hid long ago amidst the dead, and heard the moans of the 
 dying and the supplications of the lost. His eye wan 
 dered round with a vague gaze, as if following some imagi 
 nary form. Amidst those dreadful gazers was the noble 
 victim to his late revenge the Duke D'Enghien in the 
 pangs of dissolution. In vain he willed the apparition to 
 be gone : there it was, and would abide its sad, reproach 
 ful look growing more reproachful still ! 
 
 Napoleon now resorted to the excitement of stimulants 
 to support his spirits. Approaching a side-table, he
 
 124 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 filled a goblet with the sparkling fluid, and swallowed its 
 contents. When in the act of replacing the glass a dis 
 tant clock tolled out with a piercing distinctness the hour 
 of ONE. The tones, aided by the lateness of the night, fell 
 mournfully upon his ear, and as the echo of the last tone 
 ceased, he started, hearing a footstep on the stairs. To 
 his surprise the steps neared his own door; and notwith 
 standing his courage was as great as any living man's, his 
 heart throbbed violently. A moment after, one of his 
 body-guards stepped in. The entire expression of his 
 countenance underwent an instant change, and he com 
 pletely recovered the stern manner so habitual to him, a 
 manner to which may perhaps be ascribed no small part of 
 the influence he exercised at will over inferior minds. 
 
 The man handed to Napoleon a note from the court 
 physician. Napoleon snapped the seal asunder, and read 
 as follows : 
 
 "SiRE: 
 
 " I have been called to attend a lady of distinction, who 
 suffers from a lingering illness that must very soon prove 
 fatal. It is her request that your Majesty come to her im 
 mediately after this intimation is received. 
 
 " MONTESQUIEU." 
 
 Napoleon ordered out his carriage, and a few minutes 
 afterwards he descended the grand stairway, on the steps 
 of which lay scattered a few sleepy guards. The coach- 
 man-in-waiting had already received his directions, and 
 as quickly as Napoleon entered, drove towards the "f'ont
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. 125 
 
 Royal," and thence along the broad road that runs parallel 
 with the Seine. 
 
 There was that in the appearance of the night the 
 plunging of the moon amidst sombre clouds, the plash of 
 the water of that shallow and untranquil river, and in 
 the fresh breathings of the air destined to feed the life of the 
 morrow, that was grateful to his feelings. Nature is ever 
 refreshful after being shut out from the heart, and her 
 voice is ten thousand times sweeter to the wearied mind 
 than the attuned symphonies of the most gifted of min 
 strels, cha.rm they never so wisely. 
 
 Napoleon, nevertheless, could not avoid dwelling on the 
 singular message he had received, or prevent a wish that 
 the mystery might soon be unravelled. He was, never 
 theless, able to trace by his eagle glance some connexion 
 between his recent feelings and the object of his present 
 visit. What this distinctly was, he knew not. His sur 
 mises, however, brought no satisfactory conclusion. Sud 
 denly his carriage rolled beneath a massive arch, and a 
 side-door opened on the lighted interior of a mansion, the 
 outward appearance of which was one of age and gloom. 
 Napoleon, as he set his feet on the steep and narrow steps, 
 felt for the first time a surprise at the alacrity and readi 
 ness with which he had obeyed the summons. Still, he 
 had no misgivings, and passed in. Without making or 
 receiving an inquiry, he was ushered through a long, nar 
 row hall, and up a flight of stairs. " I may advance no 
 farther," said the domestic, pointing expressively to a 
 chamber door. Napoleon, at the page's pause, which he 
 hardly heeded, imagined that he heard the suppressed 
 
 11*
 
 126 TKUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 sounds which usually precede a visit of death to the cham 
 bers of the sick ; and so softly did he step, and un 
 close the door pointed out to him, as to enter without 
 apparent notice. 
 
 The scene that presented itself was a strange one, and 
 to his mind not yet relieved from the active terrors of 
 the imagination an awfully impressive one. On a bed, 
 propped up by cushions, lay the emaciated figure of a young 
 female. Her eyes and folded hands were raised towards 
 heaven, with a look of resignation. By her side knelt the 
 mother, who had found strength to minister to her child's 
 last moments. On the opposite side sat her father, his tear 
 less eyes betraying the force of the "mental suffering he was 
 struggling to conceal. A group thus mournfully occupied, 
 and with feelings so much engrossed, the entrance was 
 unlikely to disturb. The Emperor, almost shrouded in 
 the gloom of curtains, advanced to the bedside. The 
 very first glance was enough to show him that in the midst 
 of suffering and death he saw Florence de Rohan, the be 
 trothed of the Duke D'Enghien, from whom he had last 
 parted in the pride of health. There was a fearful history 
 in those sunken temples and wasted features a change 
 which told Napoleon, in startling accents, what mental 
 suffering had been compressed into that interval of time. 
 He stood with arms folded across his breast, and gazed 
 upon the wreck before him. No tone of music, no haunting 
 air, ever recalled such a host of piercing memories as the 
 altered face of that dying girl. The heartrending appeal 
 on that eventful night his signing of the death-warrant, 
 and her words at parting words so fearfully prophetic
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. 127 
 
 all these were traced anew with indescribable rapidity on 
 his mind. 
 
 The hollow eyes of the invalid at length unclosed, and, 
 strange to say, lighted up with a ray of joy as they rested 
 upon the Emperor. This smile might be compared to that 
 which illumines the ocean in the pauses of its storms: a 
 smile sad and unattractive in its sweetness. Presently 
 the low voice of Florence was heard, and Napoleon bent 
 forward, holding his breath to listen. 
 
 " Pardon me, sire ! if on the verge of the grave I have so 
 far forgotten the prerogatives of royalty as to sink for a 
 moment the subject in the Emperor. It needs not," she 
 continued, "that I repeat to you what I have suffered 
 since our interview, for I will soon be in a land where the 
 weary are at rest." 
 
 This gentle but all-powerful address, from one so frail 
 and yet so resigned, served as a crowning stroke to the 
 remorseful feelings of Napoleon, whose sinking head and 
 continued silence told the marvellous working at his heart. 
 He closed his eyes, and yet beheld her as he last had seen 
 her. The sufferer's face was suffused with a more life-like 
 tint as she witnessed Napoleon's relenting manner, and 
 she spoke again with a sudden strength that apparently 
 contradicted the professional knowledge of her medical i 
 attendant: "No longer grieve," she said, as her tears fell 
 softly upon Napoleon's hand; "it is the living, not the dead 
 who need our grief and ask for sympathy. Support from 
 above has enabled me to meet death with composure ; and 
 before I depart from earth, receive my forgiveness. I shall 
 not have lived in vain, if you bear this lesson of ambition's
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 doings to your royal home. It may serve, perhaps, to 
 curb your schemings for the future, and to instruct you 
 that conscience is ever true to her trust. Remorse must 
 visit the heart which yields itself to unrighteous dictates. 
 Nothing now remains for me hut to die," added Florence, 
 and in a voice so low as scarcely to be heard. 
 
 As she paused, and leant back childlike on her mother's 
 bosom, a faint but beautiful smile the smile seldom seen 
 but on the faces of the dead rested on her features, as 
 though of satisfaction with this interview with her destroyer. 
 Her respiration grew fainter and fainter, and her visitor 
 felt the damp, chill hand relax its hold. Silently turning 
 away his face, Napoleon laid his hand upon his heart, and 
 left the room. 
 
 We have seen how futile was the supplicating anguish of 
 Florence de Rohan on that eventful night, so replete with 
 melancholy incident, when her devoted affection drove her 
 to the French camp on a vain errand of mercy. From the 
 moment she left Napoleon, her manner had been strangely 
 in contrast with the excitement which had previously dis 
 tinguished it. She had accompanied her attendant, on 
 leaving his presence, almost without consciousness ; but 
 from the moment that she reached her own home, amidst 
 its many comforts and its many solaces, she pined rapidly 
 away, like a phantom, disappearing without whisper of 
 complaint. Yet over her death-bed hovered a glorious 
 and assured hope the hope of being united to that one 
 mind and spirit that had animated for her every earthly 
 prospect. 
 
 It was amidst the festivities that filled up the week
 
 FLORENCE DE ROHAN. 129 
 
 of Napoleon's coronation, that the ancient vault of the De 
 Rohan family, situate in the cemetery of " Pere la Chaise," 
 was opened, and that from one of the most magnificent man 
 sions in Paris issued a coffin. This was laid upon a plumed 
 hearse, and preceded by a long train of carriages, amidst 
 the emblazoned arms of which could be distinguished those 
 of the French Emperor. Various causes were assigned to 
 account for its presence at the interment of a member of 
 the house of Bourbon ; the most general conjecture being, 
 that he had overlooked political animosities in his desire 
 to do honour to so much loveliness and goodness. 
 
 It remains but to be added, that the death-bed scene, 
 with whatever had concerned it, never passed from the 
 memory of the Emperor ; that by his private confessions, 
 recently disclosed, it served to cloud his most glorious pros 
 pects of ambition, and to stir a baneful poison with every 
 political triumph ; and when all his brilliant achievements 
 came to nought himself a prisoner, restlessly pacing the 
 barren summits of St. Helena it dwelt with the gloom of 
 all his terrible remembrances. Not for any mortal pen is 
 given the task to recount its still torturing signs in the hour 
 of death, or for any mortal mind to anticipate in its full 
 reality the tribunal at which every secret work will be 
 revealed. 
 
 " Days are gone, by many a token 
 Long foretold, but slighted yet ; 
 Now the seventh last seal is broken, 
 And the sun in blood hath set." 
 
 While from the eye of the reader all record of this 
 story fades away, may not his heart treasure up its simple
 
 130 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 lesson a lesson to warn us that human happiness comes 
 neither from splendid talents, nor brilliant achievements ; 
 that intellect, however exalted, unless sanctified by pure 
 and lofty purposes, does little more than prepare for its 
 possessor a wretched fate. 
 
 With every right judgment of events, the mind improves ; 
 and it is something to become free from those prejudices 
 which have warped at times the best balanced minds, when 
 such have had occasion to pass judgment on the prominent 
 names delivered up by history from her great treasury of 
 wrecks. Through the same gate, the gate whose portals 
 stand by the grave of all things earthly, have gone the 
 victor and his victims. The gates again close, and we see 
 nothing, hear nothing. On the bright pathway illumined 
 by the flames of vast cities, and the burning torches of un 
 numbered soldiery, darkness closes, and night is come. 
 Oh ! if we would pierce that heavy veil, let us image in the 
 sky of celestial azure a martyr's bright crown a reunion 
 of those whom mortal love was fit to gladden, but who, 
 called hence, find themselves thrice and inseparably blessed. 
 The love of Heaven, continuous and unalloyed, is the oil 
 which hope pours on the flickering flame that glimmers 
 amidst this low terrestrial air faith pointing to the time 
 when all the lamps of God's kindling shall be lifted up be 
 yond the firmament of stars, and hung amidst the change 
 less beauty of the heaven of heavens.
 
 THE LADY OF THE KOCK.
 
 luhq of ttj? Hotk: 
 
 A LEGEND OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 '' Splendour in heaven, and horror on the main, 
 Sunshine and storm at once a troubled day." 
 
 DRAMATIC POEM. 
 
 ALL readers of English history must be able to recall 
 to mind with especial distinctness that period in its annals 
 when the unfortunate Charles I. drew upon himself the 
 odium and mistrust of Parliament, and London witnessed 
 the unprecedented scene of the trial of a. king for treason 
 before a court chosen from amongst his subjects. It will 
 be recollected that opposing religious interests operated 
 
 * As the above story is not mere fiction, it is scarcely necessary to 
 remind the reader that its groundwork has been sought elsewhere 
 than in the writer's fancy. The main plot of the legendary portion is 
 taken from " Maltby's Tales of the Puritans," but for the incidents 
 and language the writer claims entire originality. As many minds 
 have been allured by the stormy grandeur of the fate of the regicides, 
 it is not surprising that several persons have attempted partially to 
 depict it. It will be seen that the authoress has sought to blend with 
 the sterner features of her story, those more delicate shades of feeling 
 and sentiment, which no crime and no misfortune can prevent from 
 mingling with human lot. 
 
 12
 
 134 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 with those of a merely political nature in leading many of 
 the enemies of Charles to push their aversion to his mea 
 sures to this extreme. His unwise prohibition of the Pu 
 ritan emigration to the American colonies was not the 
 least of these creating causes ; and might he cited hy such 
 as are fond of tracing retributive justice in human affairs, 
 as one of those instances in which men are permitted by 
 their frowardness to pass upon themselves the sentence of 
 their own destruction, since, but for that prohibition, the 
 most powerful opponent of Charles, and the mighty in 
 strument of his ruin, would have embarked for New Eng 
 land, and this country have become the theatre of Crom 
 well's actions and renown supposing that the elements 
 of that remarkable character must have won elsewhere 
 something of the same name he has left behind him, a 
 name to live alike in the condemnation and commendation 
 of mankind. 
 
 To the period alluded the beginning of this tale reverts. 
 The trial of the king had been in progress several days. 
 Of more than an hundred and thirty judges appointed by 
 the Commons, about seventy sat in constant attendance. 
 Chief in rank and importance among these was General 
 Lisle a man whom we should not confound either with 
 the mad enthusiasts of that day, or with those dissembling 
 hypocrites who used their religion only as a stepping- 
 stone to power, or the cloak to conceal a guilty and 
 treasonable ambition, since his opposition to Charles was 
 actuated solely by the purest principles of patriotism and 
 religion. He was, at the time of the trial, in his sixtieth 
 year ; and his constant attendance and unwavering firm-
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 135 
 
 ness of purpose the evident results of preconceived prin 
 ciple during the whole sitting of that strange tribunal, 
 were not without great effect in nerving to continued 
 resolution the otherwise faltering minds of many of the 
 younger judges. For it cannot be doubted that compunc 
 tious feelings must have had moments of ascendency in 
 the hearts of a number of those with whom rested the 
 event of this questionable trial. This was evinced in some 
 by their occasional absence ; in others, who nevertheless 
 felt scrupulously bound to be present, by a nervous tremor 
 at the appearance of the prisoner, and subsequent abstrac 
 tion of attention from the scene, as testifying a desire to 
 assume as small a share as possible of the deep responsi 
 bility belonging to the occasion. 
 
 Of the latter class Avas William Heath, the son of a 
 Puritan divine in Sussex. At the opening of the war, he 
 had repaired to the army, and risen by his gallantry and 
 merits to the rank of general. Though still young he had 
 been afterward conspicuous in Parliament, and was one of 
 those who took up accusations against the eleven members. 
 Yet although he was friendly to the king's deposition, he 
 had at first positively refused to sit when appointed one 
 of a Court called to make inquisition for his blood. And 
 he had at length only consented to assume the place 
 assigned him there, as it was notoriously believed, through 
 the influence of Lisle, to whose daughter he was betrothed, 
 and his nuptials with whom were to be completed on the 
 night on which this narrative opens. 
 
 His handsome countenance, as he sat in the Court 
 through the whole day preceding though it contrasted
 
 136 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 with the pallor which had marked it during those previous, 
 in wearing upon it the anxious flush of the expectant 
 bridegroom, yet bore the same harassed air which had 
 been seen upon it since the commencement of the trial, 
 and which even the blissful hopes he was about to realize 
 could not suflice to dissipate. It was only when he turned 
 his eyes upon Lisle, unflinching in his dignified composure, 
 that he seemed momentarily able "to yield himself up to 
 the unalloyed anticipation of happiness. So true is it, 
 that a conscience ill . at ease with itself has the power to 
 mar the bliss of heaven. 
 
 The Court had adjourned ; the prisoner had been re 
 manded to the care of Lisle, in whose house he had been 
 kept in strict and harsh confinement ever since his landing 
 in London, during those hours not occupied with his trial ; 
 and but one more day remained to decide the doom of the 
 unhappy Charles Stuart. 
 
 It was eight o'clock in the evening. In an apartment, 
 far remote from that chamber of Lisle's spacious but 
 sombre-looking dwelling, which held the person of the 
 royal prisoner, were assembled the wedding guests. As 
 much festivity and ornament had been called to grace the 
 occasion as was consistent with Lisle's Puritanic views, 
 yet the whole seemed by far too little to celebrate the 
 marriage of the lovely divinity for whom it was prepared. 
 The apartment was in the Elizabethan style of architec 
 ture, but devoid of those ornaments of luxurious taste, 
 which, in the reign of Charles I., graced the houses of the 
 opulent and distinguished of the Church of England. A 
 quaint stiffness reigned throughout the furniture and other
 
 THE LADY OP THE ROCK. 137 
 
 arrangements. Rows of high-backed chairs, interrupted 
 here and there with a book-case, table, or other heavy piece 
 of mahogany, stood in prim regularity against the wall; 
 tall candlesticks, containing taller candles, cast their blue 
 light from the mantel-piece, and a large Bible, laid open 
 upon the table, was calculated to infuse devotional or re 
 ligious sentiments into those mirthful feelings belonging to 
 the occasion. No branches of mistletoe or holly hung 
 around the room remained as suggestions of the recent 
 Christmas ; no superb and glittering chandelier shed its 
 soft flood of light upon the assembly ; no damask drapery 
 or luxurious sofas gave an air of elegance and comfort to 
 the spacious dreariness of the apartment; no music was 
 prepared for the enlivenment of the evening ; nor were any 
 profane amusements that night to invoke the judgments of 
 Heaven upon the approaching ceremony. 
 
 The company consisted of more than two hundred guests, 
 gentlemen and ladies, all staunch Puritans, and opposers 
 of the king. The countenances of many of the male por 
 tion of these were recognisable as the same which had, for 
 the last few days, appeared as the arraigners at the trial 
 so speedily about to be terminated, and a certain peculiar 
 expression, common to each, betokening a mind preoccupied 
 by one deeply engrossing topic, might have enabled an 
 uninformed observer readily to select them from the rest. 
 Yet there were others present to whom the affair alluded to 
 was not less momentous, and with whom rested fully as 
 much of the responsibility of its now almost certainly dark 
 result. 
 
 One of these latter, conspicuously seated near to Lisle, 
 
 12*
 
 138 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 was the mighty mover of the political revolution of the day, 
 and the chief instrument in procuring the king's unhappy 
 position the aspiring, though still religious Cromwell. 
 The descriptions of history have made the personal appear 
 ance of this remarkable man so familiar to posterity, that 
 it is superfluous here to draw any picture of his coarse and 
 strongly-made form, and severely harsh, but thoughtful 
 features. The mention of his name will at once call up to 
 the minds of such as have ever interested themselves in the 
 account of those stirring times, which have left their 
 impress upon subsequent events, and one of whose later 
 results may be traced in our own national freedom, no 
 vague or shadowy embodiment, but a well-defined portrait, 
 engraved on the tablet of memory. 
 
 On this evening, his furtive glance around him from 
 beneath his shaggy eyebrows, as he conversed with Lisle 
 in a labyrinthine manner peculiar to him at times, evinced 
 a wish to penetrate into the secrets of such hearts as rated 
 his character at its true value. A close observer might 
 have noted, too, that ever and anon as that glance, after 
 wandering to distant parts of the room, returned and fixed 
 upon Lisle, it gradually fell, as if stricken to earth by the 
 steady gaze of the truly disinterested religionist, and the 
 rebukes of its owner's accusing conscience. 
 
 "The Court, thou sayest," ran his speech, "have this 
 day considered and agreed upon a judgment. It is well. 
 But I tell thee that not Parliament, nor the army, nor this 
 Court, could avail to pull down Charles Stuart from his 
 high place, saving that the God of Heaven is at war with 
 him. What though there be witnesses to prove that he set
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 139 
 
 up his standard at Nottingham, led his armed troops at 
 Newbury, Edgehill and Naseby issued proclamations and 
 mandates for the prosecution of the war? They are but 
 instruments in the hands of the same God who destroyed 
 and dethroned Belshazzar of old, because he was weighed 
 in the balance and found wanting. And is it not meet 
 that we Christians should buckle on our armour in behalf 
 of the Lord of Hosts ? Yea, verily ! else for mine own part, 
 Charles Stuart should not fall from the throne of England. 
 I am not a bloody man; nay, by reason of human frailty, 
 my heart had now well-nigh failed me in this very cause, 
 but that he who putteth his hand to the plough in these 
 troublous times, and looketh back, need be careful that he 
 be not hanged upon the gallows which Haman prepared 
 for Mordecai." 
 
 The whole of this last sentence was spoken in soliloquy, 
 for Lisle had at that moment risen to receive some guests. 
 
 The persons entering were three in number, a gen 
 tleman of about forty years of age, attended by two lovely 
 females, whose youthful years and striking resemblance to 
 himself, would instantly have suggested, what was in reality 
 the case, that they were his daughters. 
 
 From the looks of interest with which his arrival was 
 regarded by all present, it was evident that he was a person 
 of some distinction, though he had not, at that period, 
 given to the world the monument of his genius on which 
 he has since built his immortality. Yet John Milton was 
 justly celebrated even then for his political writings, his 
 strenuous assertion and defence of liberty, his austere 
 Puritanic views, and his abstemious manner of life. His
 
 140 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 whole appearance was prepossessing in the extreme, but 
 rather interesting than commanding; for his stature was 
 low, though his body was strongly made and muscular. 
 His hair, which was of light brown, streaked with hues of 
 gold, and hanging in silken waves to his shoulders, was 
 parted in the middle, after the fashion of the day, and 
 surmounted a low yet expansive forehead, sufficiently in 
 dicative of the depth of genius which lay beneath. His 
 complexion was fair, and delicately coloured as a woman's ; 
 and the contour of his features might have been objected 
 to as effeminate, were it not for the expression of manly 
 dignity which animated the whole countenance. His full, 
 gray eye, in its somewhat sleepy expression, evinced that 
 quiet melancholy peculiar to poetic genius, while a certain 
 searching and wandering look with which he occasionally 
 stared fixedly around him, suggested the idea that his sight 
 was not perfect. 
 
 The two daughters of Milton, by whom he was attended, 
 were highly interesting in appearance, with the dignity of 
 countenance peculiar to their father, and having upon 
 them the unrnistakeable stamp of an inheritance from him 
 of nature's noblest gift of intellect. 
 
 Returning Lisle's salutation as he approached to meet 
 them, these two young females retired to a seat amongst 
 the ladies, and left Milton and his host standing near the 
 entrance of the apartment. 
 
 "Thou losest thy daughter to-night, honoured friend," 
 said the former. " I trust she may find a continuance 
 of that happiness in wedlock that she has enjoyed in her 
 father's house."
 
 THE LADY OF THE HOCK. 141 
 
 "True happiness belongs not to this earth," said Lisle. 
 " It is in mercy withheld from us by the Almighty, that 
 we may be the more ready to meet death when the sum 
 mons calls us hence." 
 
 "Thou speakest well," replied Milton; "the very im 
 possibility of finding happiness here is a merciful provision 
 of the all-wise Creator. But talking of a willingness to 
 encounter death, they tell me that the Court have decided 
 upon the sentence of the tyrant and traitor king. Is the 
 rumour correct?" 
 
 " So much so," said Lisle, "that to-morrow we sign the 
 warrant for his execution." 
 
 " I shall marvel," said the other, " though I speak it 
 with shame, if fifty out of your hundred have the Chris 
 tian courage to stain their fingers with the touch of the 
 bloody quill prepared for them." 
 
 "May all such then," returned Lisle, while a flush as of 
 indignation passed over his countenance for an instant, 
 and then died rapidly away "may all such as flinch from 
 the performance of this noble act of duty to their country 
 and to God, and omit to place their names, when called 
 upon, to that righteous document of His preparing, not 
 find at the last judgment that the angel of the Lord has 
 likewise omitted to place their names upon his book. But 
 here is my daughter and her future husband; and the 
 man of God has risen to perform the marriage ceremony. 
 Excuse me, I must meet them at the door." 
 
 "I pray thee give me thy hand first, and conduct me 
 to a seat. A strange mistiness which I have of late had 
 to come frequently across my eyes, is upon them now, and 
 every object before me seems indistinct and confused."
 
 142 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 Lisle hastily did as his friend desired, scarcely hearing 
 or heeding, in his hurry, the import of his words, and then 
 advancing to meet his daughter and Heath, he conducted 
 them toward the venerable minister of their faith, in wait 
 ing to unite the young couple in the bonds of holy wed 
 lock. 
 
 As they took their station before him, his pious " Let 
 us pray," was heard, and all present arose. After a long 
 and fervent supplication, in the manner of the Puritan 
 divines of that period, he delivered a sort of homily upon 
 the duties and responsibilities of the marriage state, and 
 then pronounced an extemporaneous and brief ceremony, 
 ending with the words, " What God hath joined together, 
 let no man put asunder." This was followed by another 
 lengthy prayer, and William Heath and Alice Lisle were 
 husband and wife. 
 
 The company now advanced to greet the bride and 
 groom, who separately returned their salutations with a 
 polished grace appropriate to their differing sex. 
 
 Unscreened by the customary bridal veil, as savouring 
 too much of a form belonging to the established church, 
 the lovely face of Alice was not covered, save that a few 
 natural ringlets, purposely left unfastened, fell upon her 
 cheeks, and partially screened from observation her exqui 
 sitely beautiful features. Her dress was of the simplest 
 and purest white, and without ornament or addition to 
 enhance her natural loveliness ; and it is impossible to 
 conceive of a being more charming than she appeared in 
 the modest diffidence of her sex on the most important and 
 conspicuous occasion of a woman's life, and yet withal
 
 THE LADY OP THE ROCK. 143 
 
 losing nothing of the dignity of manner belonging to one 
 conscious of possessing that energy of mind, which, so far 
 from being, as some erroneously suppose, a masculine or 
 unwomanly trait, is, on the contrary, the distinguishing 
 and crowning mark of a character essentially feminine. 
 What but such strength of mind has ever yet triumphed 
 over female vanity and love of display, and from the 
 exacting divinity of man's homage, converted a woman 
 into the self-sacrificing and judicious minister to his hap 
 piness, fitted her to be true to one with untiring devotion 
 through evil report and good report, rejoicing with him 
 not for her sake, but for his, in his prosperity ; sharing 
 with him uncomplainingly his adversity, and cheering, 
 with words of comfort, while hef own heart may have been 
 well-nigh breaking, the path in which, but for her example 
 to shame him, and her voice to comfort and encourage him, 
 he would have sunk to rise no more. 
 
 Well was it for William Heath that Alice Lisle possessed 
 these requisites for becoming such an unwavering and de 
 voted companion in misfortune, as we have described ; for 
 the day, though not immediately near, was still in store, 
 when her willingness to encounter adversity, and her fitness 
 to meet it with fortitude sufficient to sustain herself, her 
 father, and the husband to whom she had that night given 
 her hand, and had long since pledged the full affections of 
 her heart, were amply to be tested. 
 
 The appearance of Heath was such as was well calcu 
 lated to excite interest, and his mind, character, and win 
 ning manners, such as speedily to change this on the 
 appearance of any preference on his part, into sentiments
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 of a more tender character. There was something in his 
 whole mien in the easy and upright carriage of his head 
 the intrepid character of his features the bold and 
 vigorous flashing of his dark eyes that marked him no 
 common man. 
 
 The salutations were soon ended, and the company now 
 being somewhat relieved from the awkward embarrassment 
 which they had experienced while waiting for the appear 
 ance of those whom the occasion was to honour for, in 
 those days, society was much the same in that respect as 
 at present, the company scattered, and gathered together 
 in knots and groups, and discussed with great eagerness 
 the engrossing topic of the trial. Conversation, however, 
 flowed, not as it was wont, in its pleasant current, diver 
 ging here and there, as fancy or caprice suggested, but an 
 appearance of gloom pervaded the whole intercourse ; and 
 although each individual appeared evidently to make an 
 effort to relieve this feeling, the effort itself showed a con 
 sciousness of the constraint. 
 
 It was not then the custom to deprive the groom and 
 bride of each other's society during the whole evening 
 after the ceremony, but was rather the fashion to throw 
 them together as much as possible which must at least, 
 in the case of all love-matches, have been more conform 
 able with the inclinations, than that habit of scrupulously 
 avoiding one another now in vogue. Agreeably with this 
 ordinary arrangement, Alice and Heath withdrew toward 
 the close of the evening, without attracting observation, 
 into an ante-room adjoining the main apartment. 
 
 It had not escaped the notice of any, that notwith-
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 145 
 
 standing the blissful occasion, the brow of Alice wore a 
 cloud, if not actually of sorrow, at least of melancholy 
 sadness. We may believe that this had attracted the espe 
 cial notice of him who had that evening taken her happi 
 ness into his proper keeping ; but his sympathetic heart 
 rightly surmised its cause. 
 
 " Thou art sad, my own Alice," he said, " on this night, 
 which I had fondly hoped would have made thee as su 
 premely joyful as it does myself. You distress yourself on 
 account of the king's situation : is it not so ?" 
 
 " Not only on account of the king's unhappy situation, 
 but likewise because of the hand my father and thyself 
 have had in it. I fear that his blood, if he be sentenced, 
 as the rumour is, to-morrow, will be avenged upon the heads 
 of those whom I love best on earth." 
 
 "But, Alice," argued the husband, "he has merited, 
 by his tyranny and treason, this trial, and in contemning 
 the Court, as he has done throughout in refusing to plead, 
 he will likewise merit whatever sentence it may see fit, 
 after examining the competent witnesses, to pass upon him. 
 Besides, has not your father told you that this is the 
 Lord's cause, and that He calleth aloud from the throne of 
 Heaven for the blood of Charles Stuart." 
 
 " Those are indeed my father's words," replied Alice, 
 " too severe in his religious views, and forgetting that the 
 Almighty is a God of mercy no less than of justice. But, 
 William Heath, they are not the words dictated by the 
 generous and kind heart that animates thy bosom, else 
 Alice Lisle, though she be her father's daughter, had not 
 
 this night become thy wife. Listen to the conscience which 
 
 13
 
 146 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 the penetrating eye of true affection seeth even now re 
 proving thee, and have no further hand in this bloody 
 work. Charles Stuart may be all that the Parliament and 
 your Court have named him ; and if he be, God forbid that 
 I should justify his baseness ; but as we are all prone to 
 err, it is sweet to forgive, even as we hope to be forgiven. 
 Go not to the Court to-morrow, William, nor stain this 
 hand of thine by affixing thy signature to the death-warrant 
 of the king. Promise me this ; I ask it as my wedding 
 boon." 
 
 " Would that you had spared me, beloved one, the pain of 
 hearing you ask aught that I cannot and dare not grant. My 
 word of honour to your father is pledged to perform the 
 very act which you implore me to leave undone. It was 
 the condition which sealed my happiness in calling you 
 wife this night. When I would have shrunk from the re 
 sponsibility of taking an active part in the trial, and re 
 signed my place to an older and more experienced states 
 man than myself, Henry Lisle, in disgust at what he con 
 ceived the indecision and irreligion of my character, would 
 have robbed me of that dear hope which has even now been 
 realized. I was forced to promise your father, Alice, that I 
 would not only accept my place as one of the judges, but 
 that I would be present throughout the trial, and shrink from 
 no act which my position as a member of the Court imposed 
 on me even to the signing of the warrant for Charles 
 Stuart's death. Is there naught else, involving less than 
 my honour, that you would have me grant you ? If there 
 is, ask it, sweet one, and I will move heaven arid earth to 
 accomplish it."
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 147 
 
 " These are idle words of gallantry, William, unworthy 
 the confidence which should exist between us. A wife 
 need have no boon to ask of her husband unless in a case 
 which involves his own best interests. As such I would have 
 had thee remain away from the court to-morrow, and even 
 have sought to use our united influence to detain my father 
 also. But it seems he has set his heart upon the matter 
 even more than I had deemed. I pray the Lord that his 
 retributive justice for this parricidal act fall not heavily 
 on the heads of all of us. If this cause, as ye both believe, 
 be His, can ye not be persuaded that He will avenge Him 
 self on the king without human agency. Is there no hope 
 for Charles Stuart ? He is in this house : can no means 
 be contrived for his escape?" 
 
 " That were impossible, dearest, guarded as he is on all 
 hands. But if he would abate his hauteur, and plead his 
 cause in the eloquent manner he so well knows how to 
 assume, there might yet, perhaps, exist a hope for him. 
 In this lies his only chance of escape." 
 
 At that moment supper was announced, and Alice and 
 Heath repaired with the rest of the company to the re 
 freshment room.
 
 148 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Hark ! the warning tone 
 Deepens its word is death!" 
 
 MRS. HEMANS. 
 
 THE large hall clock in Lisle's house had told the hour 
 of eleven, after the marriage described in the last chapter, 
 and some fifteen or twenty minutes had elapsed since the 
 departure of the guests, when the reader is invited into a 
 small upper chamber, in a remote wing of the mansion. It 
 was rather comfortless than otherwise in its whole aspect, 
 and its grated windows and long distance from any adjoin 
 ing room being surrounded entirely by galleries sug 
 gested the idea of a place of confinement. It was one of 
 those small rooms, common in large buildings at that 
 period, and scarcely more suitable in its arrangements for 
 an occupant than the waste halls and galleries which led 
 to it. Some hasty preparations had been made for the 
 prisoner's accommodation. Arras had been tacked up, 
 and a fire lighted the rusty grate, which had been long 
 unused, and a rude pallet placed in one corner. 
 
 Seated before a table in this chamber, was a person of 
 something less than fifty years of age. He was dressed 
 in plain black velvet, slashed with satin, and on his cloak, 
 which was thrown back, glittered a star belonging to the 
 order of the garter. His hair, thick and black, was 
 slightly sprinkled with gray, and arranged in the custom
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 149 
 
 of the day with scrupulous exactness. His mustaches 
 were large and curled upward, and his pointed beard was 
 of that formal style, so frequently seen in the portraits of 
 that reign. His face was oval and handsome, the features 
 being regular, notwithstanding that his full brown eyes 
 seemed rather dull as he sat in thought ; and a peculiar 
 expression of exceeding melancholy rested upon his coun 
 tenance. This look of melancholy was not relieved by the 
 marks of any strong ruling passion or principle, nor much 
 indication of individuality of character. Yet withal, it 
 might not have escaped observation, that in the whole 
 aspect there was not wanting a certain air of cold resolu 
 tion, almost at variance with the mildness of the brow. 
 This person was of the middle height, strongly made, and 
 showing in his entire appearance a dignity denoting the 
 highest birth. 
 
 Before him, on the table, lay the miniature of a lovely 
 child, and a large Book of Common Prayer open beside it. 
 He sat gazing upon the picture, until a tear ran slowly 
 down his cheek. It was that of a blooming boy, the 
 bright face shaded by clustered ringlets, and the whole 
 countenance beaming with youthful hope and beauty. 
 
 "Sweet child," he said audibly, "may you ascend the 
 throne of the Stuarts under better auspices than I have 
 done ! Heaven in its mercy grant that you may never 
 suffer the fate of your wretched father ! Or if, at least, 
 such hour of trial ever come upon you, may you not know 
 what it is to be thus alone in your affliction, and separated 
 from all you love on earth shut out from the sweet 
 sympathies of wife, children, and home, while your rank 
 
 13*
 
 150 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 and dignity as King of England is trampled upon, and you 
 are imprisoned and tried by your own people !" 
 
 His softened mood seemed suddenly to give place to 
 more angry feelings, as, rising up, and the dullness of his 
 eyes brightening to a keen flash, he exclaimed : 
 
 " Let this Court continue the mockery of its sitting ; let 
 it arraign me day by day, as a traitor, tyrant, and mur 
 derer. Am I not Charles Stuart, heir to a mighty line of 
 sovereigns, and shall I stoop to acknowledge its authority, 
 rather than resign myself to whatever fate its villany may 
 impose on me ? Methinks already my doom could hardly 
 be aggravated : yon matted floor those wooden chairs 
 those grated windows this narrow room surely a prison 
 were no worse. Yet perchance but it cannot no, it 
 CANNOT be, that the base Cromwell will dare incite them 
 to shed my "blood." 
 
 At this moment the door opened, and Alice Heath 
 entered the apartment. 
 
 " Who is it intrudes upon me at this unseasonable 
 hour?" angrily exclaimed the king, turning round and 
 facing his fair visiter, who approached him, and dropped 
 upon her knee. 
 
 "Spare your displeasure, sire !" she said, in the most 
 soothing voice ; " I am General Lisle's daughter, but I 
 come to you as a subject and a friend." 
 
 " Rise, maiden," said the king, " and talk not of being 
 subject to an imprisoned and belied monarch. Charles 
 Stuart is hardly now a sovereign in name." 
 
 "Nevertheless, I would perform my duty by acknow 
 ledging him as such," replied Alice, taking his hand, and
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 151 
 
 then rising. " But it is not merely to admit his title, that 
 I come to him at this hour of the night. I come to beg 
 him to sacrifice his pride as the owner of that same dignity, 
 and stoop to plead his cause for the saving of his life. 
 Know, my liege, that to-morrow, unless you consent to 
 relax your pertinacious refusal to plead your cause, the 
 Court sign the warrant for your execution. I am ignorant 
 whether or not you be all that my father and your ene 
 mies believe ; but if you be, you are then the less fit to 
 meet death." 
 
 " Death ! And has it come to this ?" exclaimed Charles, 
 setting his teeth, and rapidly pacing the room for some 
 moments, without replying to his gentle visiter, or even 
 heeding her presence. 
 
 At length she ventured to approach him. 
 
 " I have told you in what alone lies your hope of avert 
 ing this awful sentence, my lord. I pray you to reflect 
 upon it this night. . A little sacrifice of pride the mere 
 utterance of a few humble words " 
 
 " Sacrifice of pride ! utterance of humble words ! thou 
 knowest not, girl, of what you speak. Charles Stuart 
 cannot stoop so far, even though it be to save his life. 
 Spirits of my royal ancestors," added he, ."spare me from 
 a weakness which would make you blush to own me as 
 your descendant." And he covered his face with his 
 hands. 
 
 " If it is permitted to a subject to own the feeling for 
 her king, I compassionate your unhappy case most deeply," 
 said Alice, taking his passive hand, while her tears were 
 falling fast.
 
 152 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 A few moments' silence prevailed, which Alice inter 
 rupted. 
 
 " Can I not induce you," said she at length, " to value 
 the precious boon of your life above the foolish pride of 
 which we were speaking ? Think, my lord, how sweet is 
 existence, and all its precious ties of pleasure and affection 
 and she pointed to the miniature on the table how 
 awful is a violent death, and how lonely, and dark, and 
 mysterious the tomb. Cannot the consideration of all these 
 things move your purpose ?" 
 
 " I thank you, sweet maiden, for your noble intention, 
 and may God reward you for your words and wishes of 
 goodness," replied Charles, much touched by her tone of 
 deep interest, "but my resolution is fixed." 
 
 " Can you suggest nothing then yourself, my liege, less 
 displeasing to you ? Have you no powerful friend whose 
 influence I might this night move in your behalf?" 
 
 "Nay, it cannot be," replied the king, after pondering a 
 moment upon her words. " Charles Stuart is deserted on 
 all hands, and it is the Lord's will that he shall die. I 
 begin to look upon it already with resignation. Yet the 
 first intimation came upon me like the stroke of a thun 
 derbolt. Private assassination I have long dreaded ; but 
 a public execution I had never dreamed of. Nevertheless, 
 be it so. I shall meet death like a man and a king." 
 
 "Then, farewell, since my visit is futile, and the Al 
 mighty be your support and comfort in your added afflic 
 tion," said Alice, as again kissing his hand, and bathing 
 it with tears, she withdrew. 
 
 Left alone the king remained for some time in deep
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 153 
 
 thought. All anger and weakness appeared to have 
 passed from his mood, and the remarkable expression of 
 melancholy which we have before described, deepened on 
 his face to a degree scarce ever seen except upon canvass. 
 Not less heightened, however, was that coldly resolute air 
 likewise previously alluded to so that if evidently sad, it 
 might likewise have been seen that Charles Stuart was 
 also determined unto death. 
 
 What were his reflections in view of the announcement 
 he had just received from the lips of Alice Heath, and 
 which he saw no means of averting, short of sacrificing the 
 dignity with which his rank as sovereign of England in 
 vested him, we will not attempt to conjecture. None who 
 have not been in his situation can form anything like an 
 adequate conception of his state of mind ; and it were sacri 
 lege to attempt to invade the sanctuary of the human soul 
 in such hour of agony. 
 
 Whatever his cogitations were, they were of limited dura 
 tion ; for, after sitting thus for a considerable time, Charles 
 pushed back his chair, and falling upon his knees before the 
 table, he drew the Book of Prayer toward him, and, clasp 
 ing his hands upon it, read aloud : 
 
 " The day of thy servant's calamity -is at hand, and he is 
 accounted as one of them that go down to the pit. Blessed 
 Lord, remember thy mercies ; give him, we beseech thee, 
 patience in this his time of adversity, and support under the 
 terrors that encompass him ; set before his eyes the things 
 which he hath done in the body, which have justly pro 
 voked thee to anger ; and forasmuch as his continuance 
 appeareth to be short among us, quicken him so much the
 
 154 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 more by thy grace and Holy Spirit ; that he, being con 
 verted and reconciled unto thee before thy judgments have 
 cut him off from the earth, may at the hour of his death 
 depart in peace, and be received into thine everlasting king 
 dom, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen." 
 
 Rising, he slowly disrobed, and throwing himself upon 
 the bed, soon sunk into a placid slumber. Strange ! that 
 sleep of the prisoner in the prospect of death. The excite 
 ment of suspense the palpitation of hope not altogether 
 dead these banish rest ; but when the feverish perturba 
 tion caused by expectation departs, and the mind has no 
 thing to feed upon but one dark and fearful certainty, it 
 turns to seek forgetfulness in sleep.
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 155 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 
 " With my own power my majesty they wound; 
 In the king's name, the king himself s uncrowned : 
 So doth the dust destroy the diamond. 
 
 CHARLES STUART'S MAJESTY IN MISERY. 
 
 " Sardanapalus. Answer, slave ! how long 
 
 Have slaves decided on the doom of kings? 
 Herald. Since they were free." 
 
 BYRON'S SARDANAPALUS. 
 
 ALL London was astir. The excited populace filled every 
 street and alley of the vast city. The report that sentence 
 of death was that day to be passed upon Charles Stuart, 
 rung on every tongue, and the popular feeling ran mainly 
 in favour of his condemnation. All business was suspended ; 
 and from an early hour crowds were wending their way to 
 Westminster Hall, where the trial was about to be brought 
 to a close. 
 
 That specimen of perfect architecture which modern 
 art is not ashamed to take as a model, but vainly seeks to 
 imitate had been fitted up with great regard to the smallest 
 details, for this most remarkable occasion. This had been 
 done in order to invest the ceremony of the trial with all 
 the pomp and dignity becoming the delegates of a great 
 nation, sitting in judgment upon their monarch, and trying 
 him for a breach of the trust committed to his care the 
 weal and peace of the people. Benches, covered with blue 
 velvet, were arranged at the upper end for the accommo 
 dation of the judges ; and within the bar were strewn thick
 
 156 TEUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 carpets and cushions. A splendid chair, to correspond with 
 the benches, was placed for the use of the firm and subtle 
 Bradshaw, who had the honour or disgrace, according as it 
 may be deemed, of presiding over the Court. He was seated 
 before a table covered with crimson drapery, his fine coun 
 tenance betokening that decision for which he was remark 
 able, attired in costly dress, and supported on either hand 
 by his assessors. 
 
 The galleries were filled to suffocation with spectators ; 
 and the main body of the building was thronged with a vast 
 concourse of people, while a regiment of armed soldiery was 
 in attendance, with pieces loaded and ready for use in case 
 any tumult should arise. The Puritan party, now no longer 
 timid or wavering, took no pains to conceal their sense of 
 coming victory ; and even Cromwell, usually so guarded in 
 every outward observance, took his seat without the bar, 
 with a look of conscious triumph. A profound stillness pre 
 vailed as the judges entered. Fifty-nine only, out of the 
 one hundred and thirty-three, had been able to summon 
 sufficient resolution to be present. With sad and solemn, 
 though severe and determined countenances, these severally 
 seated themselves, apparently filled, almost to a sense of 
 oppression, with the responsibility devolved on them, but 
 seeming not the less resolved to act according to their de 
 termination previously agreed upon. Among these were 
 Lisle and Heath, the latter of whom was, perhaps, the only 
 commissioner whose countenance wanted something of the 
 resolute bearing we have described. They had scarcely 
 taken their seats, when the rumbling noise of an approach 
 ing vehicle was distinctly heard. The previous silence, if
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 157 
 
 possible, deepened, and for some moments the multitude, as 
 if moved by one mighty impulse, almost ceased to breathe. 
 Not a hand was in motion not an air stirred and scarce 
 a pulse beat, as the ponderous door slowly revolved upon 
 its hinges, and the regal prisoner entered. He cast a look 
 of blended pride and sorrow upon the judges as he walked 
 up to the bar, surrounded by a guard. But he made no 
 token of acknowledgment or reverence, nor did he remove 
 his velvet cap, as he took the seat prepared for him. 
 
 The names of the judges were called over. Bradshaw 
 then arose, and in a silvery and ringing tone, which made 
 his declamation peculiarly impressive, while a shade of 
 deepening pallor was perceptible on his countenance, ad 
 dressed the Couut. 
 
 He deviated from the usually calm and temperate man 
 ner he Avas accustomed to assume, and became warm and 
 impassioned. As he went on, his rich voice swelled on the 
 air with a clear, distinct intonation, that fell deeply and art 
 fully into the ears of the listeners. He was evidently bent 
 as much on appealing to those without the bar, as to the 
 judges. With the consummate skill of a rhetorician, he first 
 drew the picture of the serf-like slavery of the people, depen 
 dent upon the will or caprice of the king. He next pointed 
 out the liberty to which, by a just sentence passed against its 
 tyrant, the nation would be restored. Although a studied 
 simplicity of language pervaded, in general, his remarks, 
 yet, at times, some striking or brilliant metaphor would, as 
 it were, accidentally escape him, which was speedily fol 
 lowed by a loud roar of applause, evincing its full apprecia- 
 
 H
 
 158 TKUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 tion by his hearers. He then turned to the prisoner in the 
 following words : 
 
 " Charles Stuart, King of England, it is now the fourth 
 time that you have been arraigned before this tribunal. 
 On each occasion you have persisted in contemning its 
 authority and denying its validity breaking in upon its 
 proceedings with frivolous and impertinent interruptions 
 frequently turning your back upon the judges nay, some 
 times even laughing outright at the awful charges which 
 have been preferred against you. Since its last convention, 
 witnesses have appeared to prove conclusively that you took 
 up arms against the troops commissioned by the Parliament. 
 Once again, therefore, you are called upon in the name of 
 your country and your God, to plead guilty or not guilty 
 of tyranny, treason, and murder." 
 
 No change whatever took place in the king's countenance 
 at hearing these words. When they had ceased, he slowly 
 rose, his head still covered, and made answer : 
 
 " I acknowledge not the authority of this Court. Were 
 I to do so, it were to betray the sacred and inviolable trust 
 confided to me in the care of the liberties of the British 
 people. Your delegation, to be legal, should have come 
 alike from the individual voice of the meanest and most 
 ignorant boor of this realm, as from the high and cultivated 
 hypocrites who have empowered you. Should I ratify such 
 an authority in the eyes of the law not better founded 
 than that of pirates and murderers I would indeed be 
 the traitor ye would brand me. Nay, let me rather die a 
 martyr to the constitution. But before ye proceed to pro 
 nounce the judgment ye threaten, I demand, by all those
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 159 
 
 rights of inheritance which invest me as a monarch, with a 
 majesty and power second only to the Omnipotent, to be 
 heard before a convention of both houses of Parliament; 
 and, whether or not ye refuse me, I adjure ye, the so-called 
 judges of this Court, as ye each hope to be arraigned at no 
 unlawful or incompetent bar at the final judgment, to pause 
 and reflect, before ye take upon ye the high-handed re 
 sponsibility of passing sentence upon your king." 
 
 He resumed his seat, and after a few moments' intense 
 quiet, William Heath arose, and suggested that the Court 
 would do well to adjourn for a brief season for the purpose 
 of taking into consideration the request of the prisoner. 
 
 The expediency of this suggestion was acceded to, and 
 they withdrew and remained for some fifteen or twenty 
 minutes in conference. 
 
 On their return, after a few moments' consultation with 
 some of the older judges, Lisle among the rest, Bradshaw, 
 taking a parchment from the table, turned to the king with 
 these words : 
 
 " Charles Stuart, you have in your request to be heard 
 before Parliament, as well as in other language addressed 
 by you some moments since to this honourable Court, given 
 a fresh denial of its jurisdiction, and an added proof of 
 your contempt. It has already, by such contumacy on 
 your part, been too long delayed, and must now proceed 
 to pass judgment against you. You have been proven a 
 traitor to England in waging war against her Parliament, 
 and in refusing to plead in your own behalf, or endeavouring 
 to invalidate such proof, justice has no alternative but to 
 demand your death. The following warrant has therefore
 
 160 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 been agreed upon by your judges, who will presently affix 
 their signatures thereunto. ' We, the Commissioners ap- 
 p'ointed by the Commons to sit in trial on Charles Stuart, 
 King of England, arraigned as a traitor, tyrant, and mur 
 derer, having found these charges amply substantiated, do, 
 for the glory of Grod and the liberties of the British people, 
 hereby adjudge him to death.' ' 
 
 He ceased: the members of the Court had risen during 
 the reading of the warrant, to testify their concurrence, 
 and the fatal document was now circulated among them to 
 receive their various signatures. It was observed to be 
 written in the chirog'raphy of Cromwell. 
 
 Throughout the remarks of Bradshaw, Charles had re 
 mained with his eyes fixed upon the ground ; but while the 
 warrant was being read, he raised them and cast them upon 
 Cromwell, who was standing without the bar. Brief as 
 was this glance, it seemed to convey some momentous 
 truth, for Cromwell became at first scarlet, and then pale 
 as death. Instantly, however, he turned away, and began 
 coolly to unfold the plaits of a white Cambric handkerchief, 
 and appeared only occupied with that object. 
 
 As soon as the warrant had been passed around to re 
 ceive the signatures, and Bradshaw had resumed his seat, 
 Charles arose, and with more of dignity than contempt in 
 the act, he turned his back upon the judges as though his 
 pride would prevent their observing whatever effect their 
 sentence had upon him. 
 
 The profound silence which had heretofore prevailed 
 among the crowd, here gave way to loud hisses, and ex 
 pressions of contempt and disgust; while the soldiers,
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 161 
 
 instigated by the Roundheads, uttered exclamations of 
 "Justice!" "Justice!" 
 
 Charles, on hearing the cries of these latter, turned 
 mildly toward them, and casting on them a look of pity, 
 said, in a tone of voice, which, though not loud, was yet 
 sufficiently distinct to be heard by all within the bar : 
 
 " I pity them ! for a little money they would do as much 
 against their commanders." 
 
 The proceedings closed ; and under a strong escort, and 
 amid the shouts of the populace, the noble prisoner was 
 conducted out of the hall. As he proceeded, various out 
 rages were put upon him. With a kingly majesty superior 
 to insult, he received these indignities, as though he deemed 
 them unworthy to excite any emotion within him, save 
 what his sorrowful eye indicated, that^f pity for the 
 offenders. Some few, in the midst of the general odium, 
 endeavoured to evince their continued allegiance. But 
 their faint prayer of " God save the king !" was drowned 
 in the swelling cries of " Down with the traitor !" " Ven 
 geance on the tyrant!" "Away with the murderer!" 
 One soldier, who was intentionally or inadvertently heard 
 humming the national air of his country, was stricken to 
 the ground by his officer, just as the king crossed the 
 threshold of the door. 
 
 "Poor fellow," said Charles, "methinks his punishment 
 was greater than his offence." 
 
 14*
 
 162 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 "Will nothing moye him?" 
 
 THE Two FOSCARI. 
 
 THE streets of a crowded metropolis, which, with their 
 noise and clamour, their variety of lights, and the eter 
 nally changing bustle of their hundred groups, offer, by 
 night especially, a spectacle which, though composed of 
 the most vulgar materials, when they are separately con 
 sidered, has, when they are combined, a striking and 
 powerful effect upon the imagination. 
 
 At a late hour on the following night, when London 
 presented such a scene as we have described, two persons 
 were winding their way to the palace of Whitehall. One 
 was an individual of the male sex, in whom might have 
 been seen, even through the gloom, a polished and digni 
 fied bearing, which, together with his dress though of 
 the Puritanic order declared him a gentleman of more 
 than ordinary rank. His companion was a delicate woman, 
 evidently like himself of the most genteel class, but attired 
 in the simplest and plainest walking costume of the times. 
 She leaned on his arm with much appearance of womanly 
 trust, although there was an air of self-confidence in her 
 step, suggesting the idea of one capable of acting alone 
 on occasion of emergency, and a striking yet perfectly 
 feminine dignity presiding over her whole aspect.
 
 THE LADY OF THE HOCK. 163 
 
 " I have counselled your visiting him at this late hour," 
 said the gentleman, "because, as the only hope lies in 
 striking terror into his conscience, the purpose may be 
 best answered in the solitude and silence of a season like 
 this. Conscience is a coward in the daylight, but dark 
 ness and night generally give her courage to assert her 
 power." 
 
 "True, William," replied Alice Heath, (for she it was, 
 and her companion, as the reader is aware bv this time, 
 was her husband,) " true but alas ! I fear for the success 
 of my visit ; the individual of whom we are speaking de 
 ceives himself no less than others, and therefore to him 
 she is a coward at all times. Hast thou not read what 
 my poor dead grandfather's old acquaintance has written 
 about a man's ' making such a sinner of his conscience as 
 to believe his own lies ?' ' 
 
 " I have not forgotten the passage, my Alice, and, ever 
 correct in your judgment, you have penetrated rightly 
 into the singular character we are alluding to. I wot it 
 were hard for himself to say how far he has been actuated 
 by pure, and how far by ambitious motives, in the hand 
 he has had in the sentence of the king. Nevertheless, 
 you would believe his conscience to be not altogether dead, 
 had you seen him tremble and grow pale yesterday in the 
 Court, during the reading of the warrant, (which, by the 
 way, he had worded and written with his own hands,) when 
 Charles Stuart raised his eyes and looked upon him as if 
 to imply that he knew him for the instigator, and no, un 
 selfish one either, of his doom. The emotion he then tes 
 tified, it was, which led me to hope he may yet be operated
 
 164 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 upon to prevent the fatal judgment from taking effect. It 
 is true, Charles is a traitor, and I cannot regret that, in 
 being arraigned and tried, an example has been made of 
 him. But having from the first anticipated this result, ex 
 cept for your father, Alice, I would have had no part in the 
 matter, being entirely opposed to the shedding of his blood. 
 All ends which his death can accomplish have already been 
 answered ; and I devoutly pray that the effort your gentle 
 heart is now about to make for the saving, of his life, may 
 be blessed in procuring that merciful result." 
 
 At this moment they paused before the magnificent struc 
 ture, known as the Palace of Whitehall, and applied for 
 admission. Vacated some time since by the king, it was 
 now occupied by his rival in power, the aspiring Cromwell ; 
 and although the hour was so late, the vast pile was still 
 illuminated. Having gained speedy access to the main 
 building, the visitors were admitted by a servant in the 
 gorgeous livery of the fallen monarch. Heath requested 
 to be shown to an ante-room, while Alice solicited to be 
 conducted without previous announcement to the presence 
 of his master. After a moment's hesitation on the part 
 of the servant, which, however, was quickly overcome by 
 her persuasive manner, he conducted her through various 
 spacious halls, and up numerous flights of stairs, till 
 pausing suddenly before the door of a chamber, he 
 knocked gently. As they waited for an answer, the 
 accents of prayer were distinctly audible. They were 
 desired to enter ; the servant threw open the door, simply 
 announcing a lady. Alice entered, and found herself 
 alone with Cromwell.
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 165 
 
 The apartment was an ante-room attached to the 
 spacious bed-chamber formerly belonging to the king. 
 It was luxuriously furnished with all the appliances of 
 ease and elegance suitable to a royal with-drawing room. 
 Tables and chairs of rose-wood, richly inlaid with ivory 
 and mother-of-pearl, were arranged in order around the 
 room ; magnificent vases of porcelain decorated the man 
 tel-piece ; statues from the chisel of Michael Angelo stood 
 in the niches ; and pictures in gorgeous frames hung upon 
 the walls. 
 
 There, near a table, on which burned a single-shaded 
 lamp, standing upright, in the attitude of prayer, from 
 which he had just been interrupted, stood the occupant. 
 For an instant, as she lingered near the door, and looked 
 upon his figure, which bore so strongly the impress of 
 power, and felt that on his word hung the fate of him 
 for whom she had come to plead, she already feared for 
 the success of her mission, and would fain almost have 
 retracted her visit. But remembering the accents of 
 prayer she had heard while waiting without, she considered 
 that her purposed appeal was to the conscience of one 
 whom she had just surprised, as it were, in the presence 
 of his Maker, and took courage to advance. 
 
 " May I pray thee to approach and be seated, madam, 
 and unfold the object of this visit?" said Cromwell, in a 
 thick, rapid utterance, the result of his surprise, as he 
 waived his visiter to a chair. " At that distance, and by 
 this light, I can hardly distinguish the features of the 
 lady who so inopportunely and unceremoniously honours 
 me with her presence."
 
 166 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 Immediately advancing, she threw back her hood, and 
 offering him her hand, said, " It is Alice Heath, the 
 daughter of your friend, General Lisle." 
 
 Cromwell's rugged countenance expressed the utmost 
 surprise, as he awkwardly strove to assume a courtesy 
 foreign to his manner, and exchange his first ungracious 
 greeting for something of a more cordial welcome. 
 
 With exceeding tact, Alice hastened to relieve his em 
 barrassment, by falling back into the chair he had offered, 
 and at once declaring the purpose of her visit. 
 
 "General Cromwell," she began, in a voice sweetly 
 distinct, "you stand high in the eyes of man, not only as 
 a patriot, but a strict and conscientious servant of the 
 Most High. As such, you have been the main instrument 
 in procuring the doom now hanging in awful expectation 
 over the head of him who once tenanted, in the same 
 splendour that now surrounds yourself, the building in 
 which I find you. Methinks his vacation of these princely 
 premises, and. your succession thereunto, renders you 
 scarcely capable of being a disinterested advocate for his 
 death since, by it, you become successor to all the pomp 
 and power formerly his. Have you asked yourself the 
 question whether no motives of self-aggrandizement have 
 tainted this deed of patriotism, or sullied this act of reli 
 gion ?" 
 
 "Your language is unwarrantable and unbecoming, 
 madam," said Cromwell, deadly pale and trembling 
 violently ; " it is written " 
 
 " Excuse me," said Alice, interrupting him ; " you think 
 it uncourteous and even impertinent that I should intrude
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 167 
 
 upon you with a question such as I but now addressed to 
 you. But, General Cromwell, a human life is at stake, 
 and that the life of no ordinary being, but the descendant 
 of a race of kings. Nay, hear me out, sir, I beg of you. 
 Charles Stuart is about to die an awful and a violent death ; 
 your voice has condemned him your voice can yet save 
 him. If it be your country's weal that you desire, that 
 object has been already sufficiently answered by the ex 
 ample of his trial ; or, if it is to further the cause of the 
 Lord of Hosts that you place yourself at the head of 
 Britain in his place, be assured that he who would assert 
 his power by surrounding himself with a pomp like this, is 
 no delegate of One who commissioned Moses to lead his 
 people through the wilderness, a sharer in the common 
 lot, and a houseless wanderer like themselves. Bethink 
 you, therefore, what must be the doom of him, who for 
 the sake of ambition and pride in order that he might 
 for the brief space of his life enjoy luxury and power 
 under the borrowed name, too, of that God who views the 
 act with horror and detestation stains his hands with 
 parricidal blood. Yes, General Cromwell, for thy own 
 soul's, if not for mercy's sake, I entreat thee, in whom 
 alone lies the power, to cause Charles Stuart's sentence to 
 be remitted." 
 
 As she waxed warm in her enthusiasm, Alice Heath 
 had risen and drawn close to Cromwell, who was still 
 standing, as on her entrance, and in her entreaty, she 
 had even laid her hand on his arm. His tremor and 
 pallor had increased every moment while she spoke, and
 
 168 TRUTH AXD FANCY. 
 
 though at first he would have interrupted her, he seemed 
 very greatly at a loss, and little disposed to reply. 
 
 After a few moments' hesitation, during which Alice 
 looked in his face with the deepest anxiety, and awaited 
 his answer, he said, " Go to, young woman, who presumest 
 to interfere between a judge raised up for the redemption 
 of England, and a traitor king, whom the Lord hath per 
 mitted to be condemned to the axe. As my soul liveth, 
 and as He liveth, who will one day make me a ruler in 
 Israel, thou hast more than the vanity of thy sex, in 
 hoping by thy foolish speech to move me to lift up my 
 hand against the decree of the Almighty. Truly " 
 
 "Nay, General Cromwell," said Alice, interrupting 
 him, as soon as she perceived he was about to enter into 
 one of his lengthy and pointless harangues, "nay, you 
 evade the matter both with me and with the conscience 
 whose workings I have for the last few moments beheld in 
 the disorder of your frame. Have its pleadings for to 
 them I look and not to any eloquence of mine own been 
 of no avail? Will it please you to do aught for the 
 king?" 
 
 " Young lady," replied Cromwell, bursting into tears, 
 which he was occasionally wont to do, " a man like me, 
 who is called to perform great acts in Israel, had need to 
 be immovable to feelings of human charities. Think you 
 not it is painful to our mortal sympathies to be called 
 upon to execute the righteous judgments of Heaven, while 
 we are yet in the body. And think you that when we 
 must remove some prime tyrant that the instruments of 
 his removal can at all times view their part in his punish-
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 169 
 
 ment with unshaken nerves? Must they not even at 
 times doubt the inspiration under which they have felt 
 and acted ? Must they not occasionally question the 
 origin of that strong impulse which appears the inward 
 answer to prayer for direction under heavenly difficulties, 
 and, in their disturbed apprehensions, confuse even the 
 responses of truth with the strong delusions of Satan ? 
 Would that the Lord would harden my heart even as he 
 hardened that of " 
 
 "Stop, sir," said Alice, again interrupting him ere his 
 softened mood should have passed away, " utter not such 
 a sacrilegious wish. Why are the kindly sympathies 
 which you describe implanted in your bosom, unless it be 
 to prevent your ambition from stifling your humanity ? 
 The rather encourage them, and save Charles Stuart. 
 Let your mind dwell upon the many traits of nobleness 
 in his character .which might be mentioned with enthu 
 siasm, ay, and with sorrow, too, that they should be thus 
 sacrificed." 
 
 " The Most High, young woman, will have no fainters 
 in spirit in his service none who turn back from Mount 
 Gilead for fear of the Amalekites. To be brief it waxes 
 late ; to discuss this topic longer is but to distress us both. 
 Charles Stuart must die the mouth of the Lord hath 
 spoken it." 
 
 As he spoke, he bowed with a determined but respectful 
 reverence, and when he lifted up his head, the expression 
 of his featu^s told Alice that the doom of the king was 
 irrevocably fixed. 
 
 " I see there is no hope," said she, with a deep sigh, as 
 
 15
 
 170 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 Cromwell spoke these words in a tone of decision which 
 left her no further encouragement, and with a brevity so 
 unusual to him. Nor was his hint to close the interview 
 lost upon her. " No hope !" she repeated, drawing back. 
 " I leave you, then, inexorable man of iron, and may you 
 not thus plead in vain for mercy at the bar of God." 
 
 So saying, she turned and rejoined her husband, who 
 remained in waiting for her : they returned together to 
 Lisle's house.
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 171 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " The convent bells are ringing, 
 
 But mournfully and slow ; 
 In the gray, square turret swinging, 
 With a deep sound, to and fro, 
 Heavily to the heart they go! 
 Hark! the hymn is singing 
 The song for the dead below, 
 Or the living who shortly shall be so !" 
 
 Brnox's PARISINA. 
 
 THE thirtieth of January, memorable in history, rose 
 gloomy and dark, as though the heavens would express 
 their sympathy with the tragedy about to be enacted. 
 
 Three days only had been allowed the condemned pri 
 soner between his sentence and his execution. This in 
 terval, during the day, he had spent chiefly in reading and 
 prayer. On each night he had slept long and soundly, 
 although the noise of the workmen employed in framing 
 his scaffold, and making other preparations for his execu 
 tion distinctly reached his ears. 
 
 On the morning of the fatal day he rose early, and 
 calling his attendant, desired him to employ great care in 
 dressing and preparing him for the unusual solemnity 
 before him. 
 
 At length he appeared, attired in his customary suit of 
 black, arranged with more than his wonted neatness. His 
 collar, edged with deep lace, and set carefully around his 
 neck, was spotless in colour, and accurate in every fold,
 
 172 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 while his pensive countenance exhibited no evidence of 
 emotion or excitement. 
 
 Bishop Juxon assisted him at his devotions, and paid the 
 last melancholy duties to the king. After this, he was 
 permitted to see such of his family as were still in Eng 
 land. These consisted only of his two younger children, 
 the Princess Elizabeth and the Duke of Gloucester. 
 
 Notwithstanding the tender years of the young Eliza 
 beth, she seemed fully to appreciate her father's unhappy 
 situation, and her young heart appeared well-nigh burst 
 ing. 
 
 "Weep not for thy father, child," said Charles, kissing 
 her tenderly ; " he but goeth where thou mayst one day 
 meet him again." 
 
 She threw her arms around his neck, and sobbed aloud. 
 He pressed her to his bosom and soothed her gently, but 
 seemed, for the first time since his interview with Alice 
 Heath, on the night previous to his sentence, half un 
 manned. " It is God, my love, who hath called thy poor 
 parent hence, and we must submit to his will in all things. 
 Bear my love to your mother, and tell her that my last 
 thoughts were with her and our precious children." 
 
 Separating himself from her by a great eifort, and then 
 pressing the boy to his heart, he motioned to the attendants 
 to remove them, lest the trial of this interview might, at 
 the last, unnerve his well-sustained resolution and courage. 
 
 The muffled bells now announced with mournful distinct 
 ness that the fatal moment was approaching. The noisy 
 tramp of the excited populace ever eager to sate their 
 vulgar gaze on any bloody spectacle, but anticipating extra 
 ordinary gratification from the novel sight of the execu-
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 173 
 
 tion of their king was plainly audible. Presently, the 
 guard came to lead him out. He was conducted by a 
 private gallery and staircase into the court below, and 
 thence conveyed in a sedan-chair to the scaffold, followed 
 by the shouts and cries of the crowd. 
 
 About the time that these sounds were dying away from 
 the neighbourhood of Lisle's house, William Heath hastily 
 entered the library, and taking pen and paper, wrote the 
 following brief letter : 
 
 " MY DEAR ALICE : 
 
 " I cannot but rejoice, that after finding, as we believed, 
 all hope of Charles Stuart at an end your visit to Crom 
 well having been unsuccessful I removed you to a dis 
 tance, until the tragical scene should, as we thought, be 
 ended. The tumult and noise which fill the city, together 
 with the consciousness of the cause creating it, would have 
 been too much for your nerves, unstrung as they have been 
 of late, by the feeling you have expended for the unhappy 
 king. There is yet, though, I delight to say, and you will 
 delight to hear, a single hope remaining for him, even while 
 the bells now ring for his execution. Lord Fairfax, who 
 though, like myself, friendly to his deposition, still shudders 
 at the thoughts of shedding his blood, will, with his own 
 regiment, make an attempt to rescue him from the scaffold. 
 There is, in fact, scarce any reason to doubt the success of 
 this measure ; and this evening, Alice, we will rejoice 
 together that the only cloud to dim the first blissful days 
 of our union has been removed, as I shall rejoin you at as 
 early an hour as the distance will permit. 
 
 15*
 
 174 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 " I write this hastily, and send it by a speedy messenger, 
 in order to relieve, by its agreeable tidings, the sorrowful 
 state of mind in which I left you a few hours since. I 
 am, my own Alice, your most affectionate husband, 
 
 "WILLIAM HEATH." 
 
 The street before Whitehall was the place prepared for 
 the execution. This arrangement had been made, in order 
 to render the triumph of popular justice over royal power 
 more conspicuous, by beheading the king in sight of his 
 own palace. All the surrounding windows and galleries 
 were filled with spectators, and the vast crowd below were 
 kept back by soldiery encircling the scaffold. Charles 
 mounted it with a steady step, and the same dignified reso 
 lution of mien which he had all along so admirably main 
 tained. Uncovering his head, he looked composedly around 
 him and said, in a clear, unfaltering voice, though only 
 sufficiently loud to be heard by those near him, owing to 
 the buzz of the crowd : 
 
 "People of England, your king dies innocent. He is 
 sentenced for having taken up arms against Parliament. 
 Parliament had first enlisted forces against him, and his sole 
 object as God is his judge, before whom he is momently 
 to appear was to preserve, as was his bounden duty, invio 
 late for himself and his successors, that authority transmit 
 ted to him by royal inheritance. Yet, although innocent 
 toward you, and in that view undeserving of death, in the 
 eyes of the Omniscient his other sins amply merit his coming 
 doom ; in especial, having once suffered an unjust sentence 
 of death to be executed against another, it is but meet that
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 175 
 
 x 
 
 he should now die thus unjustly himself. May God lay not 
 his death in like manner to your charge ; and grant that in 
 allegiance to my son, England's lawful sovereign at my de 
 cease, you may speedily be restored to the ways of peace." 
 
 Lord Fairfax, with his regiment, prepared for the rescue 
 of Charles, was proceeding toward the place of execution 
 by a by-street, at the same time that the king was being 
 conducted thither. On his way he was passed by Crom 
 well, who then, for the first time, became aware of his pur 
 pose. 
 
 Much disturbed in mind at the discovery of a project so 
 likely to thwart his own ambitious views, just ripe for ful 
 filment, the latter walked on for some moments in deep 
 reflection. Presently quickening his pace, he turned a cor 
 ner, and stepped, without knocking, into a house near by. 
 His manner was that of a person perfectly at home in the 
 premises, which, indeed, was the case ; for James Harrison, 
 the tenant, was one of his subservients, chosen by him in 
 consequence of his austere piety, and great influence with 
 his sect, of whom it will be recollected that Fairfax was 
 one. Harrison's appearance, though coarse, was not actu 
 ally vulgar. He was a middle-aged man, tall and strongly 
 made,-and his manner, rough and military, might com 
 mand fear, but could not excite ridicule. Cromwell found 
 him in prayer, notwithstanding all the tumult of the day. 
 
 "I have sought thee, Harrison," he said, "to beseech 
 thee engage in prayer with Lord Fairfax, who is now on his 
 way to rescue this Saul from the hand of the Philistines. 
 He should first crave the Lord's will in regard to his errand. 
 Wilt thou not seek him and mind him of this ?"
 
 176 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 * 
 
 " I will e'en do thy bidding, thou -servant of the Most 
 High," said Harrison, rising and accompanying him to the 
 door. " Where shall I find Fairfax ?" 
 
 " Thou wilt overtake him by turning speedily to the 
 right," replied the other, parting from him. 
 
 " One of his lengthy supplications at the throne of grace," 
 said Cromwell to himself, as he walked on, " will detain 
 Fairfax until this son of Belial is destroyed." 
 
 Meanwhile, upon the scaifold, Charles, after delivering 
 his address, was preparing himself for the block with per 
 fect equanimity and composure. 
 
 " There is but one stage more, sire," said Juxon, with the 
 deepest sympathy of look and manner. " There is but one 
 stage more. Though turbulent, it is a very short one ; yet 
 it will carry you a long distance from earth to heaven." 
 
 "I go," replied the king, "from a corruptible to an in 
 corruptible crown, where no downfal can transpire." 
 
 So saying, he laid his head upon the block, and the heads 
 man, standing near, in a visor, at one blow struck it from 
 his body. Another man, in a corresponding disguise, 
 catching it, and holding it up, exclaimed, "Behold the 
 head of a traitor !" 
 
 At this moment Lord Fairfax and his regiment came up. 
 His humane purpose, so artfully defeated, becoming known, 
 with the strange perversity of mankind, now that its bene 
 fits were too late to reach the king, an instant revulsion in 
 the feelings of the populace took place ; and the noise of 
 quarrels of reproaches and self-accusations rent the air, 
 until the tumult grew terrific. 
 
 But the reverberation of no thunder-clap could have re-
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 177 
 
 awaked the dissevered corpse of the dead monarch. Charles 
 Stuart, the accomplished scholar and elegant poet Charles 
 Stuart, the husband, father, friend Charles Stuart, the 
 descendant of a long line of sovereigns, and legitimate king 
 of the most potent nation upon earth was no more ; and 
 a human life was blotted from existence ! That life, what 
 was it ? Singular and mysterious essence capable of ex 
 quisite pleasure and intense pain held by such a preca 
 rious tenure, yet valued beyond all price the gift of God, 
 and destroyed by man a moment past here, and now gone 
 for ever tell us, metaphysician, what was it, for we cannot 
 answer the question.
 
 178 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Patience and sorrow strove 
 Which should express their goodliest." 
 
 SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 WE pass over that brief period in history during which 
 the new form of government established by Cromwell nou 
 rished, and the usurper and his successor, under the title 
 of Protector of the Commonwealth, enjoyed a larger share 
 of power than had previously been attached to the regal 
 dignity. It will be remembered that the deficiency of the 
 latter in those qualities requisite to his responsible position 
 soon led him formally to resign the Protectorship, and his 
 abdication speedily paved the way for the restoration of 
 Charles II. to the throne of his ancestors. Unfortunately 
 for the chief characters of our tale, one of the first and most 
 natural aims of the new king on his accession, was to seek 
 the conviction and punishment of the Court who had so 
 presumptuously, although, in many instances, so conscien 
 tiously, passed that sentence against his father, which we 
 have seen reluctantly carried into execution. 
 
 Many of those had fled at the first rumour of the resto 
 ration, in anticipation of the worst, so that, on the com 
 mand of Charles, only twenty-seven persons judges and 
 accomplices inclusive could be arrested. These had now 
 been incarcerated three weeks awaiting their trial, which
 
 THE LADY OF THE HOCK. 179 
 
 was deferred, from time to time, in the hope that more of 
 the regicides might yet be brought to justice. 
 
 Among those thus imprisoned were Henry Lisle and 
 William Heath, whose fates are interwoven with this nar 
 rative. 
 
 Leaving this needful preface to what is to follow, let us 
 again visit Lisle's mansion the same which witnessed the 
 marriage of his daughter. Several years have elapsed 
 since that event ; and after the mournful impression caused 
 by the death of the ill-fated king had been obliterated 
 from her mind for Time has the power speedily to heal 
 all wounds not absolutely inflicted upon the affections 
 till within the last few weeks, the life of Alice Heath had 
 flowed in as smooth a current as any who had beheld her 
 on her wedding-night could, in their most extravagant 
 wishes, have desired. In their untroubled union, her 
 husband had heretofore forestalled the wife's privilege to 
 minister and prove devotion a privilege which, however, 
 when the needful moment demanded it, no woman better 
 than Alice was formed for exerting. Trouble had not 
 hitherto darkened the young brow of either ; nor pain, nor 
 sorrow, nor the first ungratified wish, come nigh their 
 dwelling. Under the same roof with her pious and aus 
 tere, but still affectionate, father, the daughter had been 
 torn from no former tie in linking herself to another by a 
 still nearer and more indissoluble bond. There had been 
 nothing to desire, and nothing' to regret. The life of her 
 self and husband had been as near a type as may be of the 
 perfect happiness we picture in heaven save that with
 
 180 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 them it was now exchanged for sorrow more difficult to 
 bear from the bitter contrast. 
 
 It is an afternoon in September. Alice, not materially 
 changed since we last saw her except that the interval 
 has given, if anything, more of interest and character to 
 her features is in her own room, busily engaged in ar 
 ranging articles in a travelling-trunk. Her countenance 
 is sad with a sadness of a more engrossing and heartfelt 
 kind than that which touched it with a mournful shadow 
 when she grieved for the fate of Charles Stuart for there 
 is an incalculable difference between the sorrow that is 
 expended between a mere object of human sympathy, and 
 that which is elicited by the distress and danger of those 
 we love. And the sadness of Alice was now connected 
 with those dearer to her than life itself. No tear, how 
 ever, dimmed her eye, nor shade of despair sat upon 
 her brow. Feeling that the emergency of the occasion 
 called upon her to act, not only for herself but for others, 
 the bravery of true womanly resolution in affliction reso 
 lution which, had she alone been concerned, she might 
 perhaps never have evinced, but which, for the sake of 
 others, she had at once summoned to her aid was distin 
 guishable in her whole deportment as well as in her every 
 movement. 
 
 As she was engaged with great seeming interest in the 
 task we have described the articles alluded to consisting 
 of the clothing suitable for a female child of tender age 
 the little creature for whose use it was designed was sitting 
 at her feet tired of play, and wondering probably why she 
 was employed in this unusual manner. Alice frequently
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 181 
 
 paused in her occupation to cast a look upon the child 
 not the mere hasty glance with which a mother is wont to 
 satisfy herself that her darling is for the moment out of 
 mischief or danger but a long, devouring gaze, as though 
 the refreshing sight were about to be removed for ever 
 from her eyes, and she would fain, ere the evil moment 
 arrived, stamp its image indelibly on her memory. Who 
 shall say what thoughts, what prayers, were then stirring 
 in her bosom ? 
 
 The little object of this solicitude had scarcely told her 
 fifth year ; and the soft ringlets which descended half-way 
 down the shoulders, the delicate bloom, the large, deep 
 blue eyes and flexile features, made such an ideal of 
 childish beauty as artists love to paint, or sculptors model. 
 
 When Alice had finished her employment, she took the 
 little girl in her arms, and strained her for some moments 
 to her heart, with a feeling, as it would seem, almost of 
 agony. The child, though at first alarmed at the unusual 
 vehemence of her caresses, presently, as if prompted by 
 nature, smiled in reply to them. But the artless prattler 
 had no power to rouse her from some purpose on which 
 her thoughts appeared deeply as well as painfully intent. 
 Putting the little creature aside again, she drew near to 
 her writing-desk, and, seating herself before it, penned the 
 following letter : 
 
 " MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 " It is now some weeks since the imprisonment of my 
 husband and father, who are still awaiting their trial. 
 The active part which the latter is known t9 have taken 
 
 16
 
 182 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 in the punishment of the late unhappy king, precludes all 
 hope of their pardon. But I have matured a plan for 
 their escape, which I am only waiting a fitting moment to 
 put into execution. When this is effected we will take 
 refuge in your American Colonies. I have the promise of 
 influential friends there to assist in secreting us until it 
 shall be safe to dwell among you publicly for this country 
 can never again be our home. 
 
 " In the mean time, as some friends are about embarking, 
 after a struggle with myself, I have concluded to send my 
 little daughter in advance of us, lest she might prove an 
 incumbrance in the way of effecting the escape alluded to, 
 inasmuch as she has already been a great hindrance to 
 detain me at home many hours from the dear prisoners 
 to both of whom my presence is so needful, especially to 
 my husband, who is extremely ill in his confinement. 
 
 " I need not say that I feel all a mother's anxiety in 
 parting with my child. But I have confidence that you, 
 my friend, will faithfully supply my place for as long a 
 time as may be necessary. It has occurred to me that it 
 would be well to let the impression go abroad among you 
 that my daughter is the young relative whom you were 
 to receive by the same vessel, and of whose recent death 
 you will be apprised. This may shield her in some mea 
 sure from the misfortunes of her family ; and I would be 
 glad, therefore, if you would humour the innocent decep 
 tion even with all of your household, until such time as we 
 may reclaim her. With a firm reliance on my heavenly 
 Father, I commit my precious infant to his protection. 
 
 "ALICE HEATH."
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 183 
 
 She had just concluded, when a servant appeared at the 
 door. " Some ladies and a gentleman, madam," said he, 
 " have called, and are awaiting you in the drawing-room. 
 They came in a travelling-carriage, and are equipped as if 
 for a long journey." 
 
 "Remove this trunk into the hall," replied Alice, "and 
 then say to the visitors that I will see them presently. 
 They have already come to bear away my darling," added 
 she to herself. " I scarce thought that the hour had yet 
 arrived." 
 
 As she spoke, she set about attiring the child with great 
 tenderness, seemingly prolonging the act unconsciously to 
 herself. 
 
 "Now the Lord in heaven keep thee, precious one!" 
 she exclaimed, as, at length, the motherly act terminated; 
 and imprinting on her face a kiss of the most ardent affec 
 tion, though without giving way to the weakness of a single 
 tear, she bore her from the chamber. 
 
 We leave the reader to imagine the last parting moments 
 between that mother and her child. She who had framed 
 the separation as an act of duty, was not one to shrink at 
 the last moment, or betray any faintness of spirit. With 
 a nobly heroic heart she yielded up the young and helpless 
 treasure of her affections to the guardianship of others, 
 and turned to expend her capacities of watchfulness and 
 care upon another object. How Avell she performed this 
 labour of love, notwithstanding the trial she had just ex 
 perienced how far she succeeded in dismissing the recol 
 lection of it from her mind sufficiently to enable her to 
 sustain the weight of the responsibilities still devolving
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 upon her we shall now have an opportunity to deter 
 mine. 
 
 Within another half hour Alice entered the cell of a 
 prison. It was one of those constructed for malefactors 
 of the deepest cast, being partially under the ground, and 
 partaking of the nature of a dungeon. The mighty stones 
 of the wall were green and damp, and, together with the 
 cold, clay floor, were sufficient of themselves to suggest 
 speedy illness, and perhaps death, to the occupant. Its 
 only furniture consisted of a single wooden stool, a pallet 
 of straw, and a rude table. 
 
 On the pallet alluded to lay a man in the prime of life, 
 his eyes closed in sleep, and the wan hue of death upon 
 his countenance. One pallid hand, delicate and small as 
 a woman's, rested upon the coarse coverlet, while the other 
 was placed beneath his head, from which streamed forth a 
 profusion of waving hair, now matted and dull, instead of 
 glossy and bright, as it had been in recent days. 
 
 When Alice first entered, the sleeper was breathing 
 somewhat disturbedly, but as she approached and bent 
 over him, and raising the hand which lay upon the quilt, 
 pressed it to her lips, his rest suddenly seemed to grow 
 calm, and a faint smile settled upon his mouth. 
 
 "Thank God !" whispered she to herself, as she replaced 
 the hand as quietly as she had raised it, " my prayer is 
 heard the fever has left him, and he is fast recovering." 
 
 Seating herself on the wooden stool by his side, she 
 remained watching him with looks of the most devoted 
 interest and affection. In about half an hour he heaved a 
 deep sigh, and, opening his eyes, looked around to the spot 
 where she was sitting. /
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 185 
 
 "You are a guardian angel, dear Alice," said he; "even 
 in my dreams I am conscious of your presence." 
 
 " Saving the little time that I must steal from you to 
 bestow upon my poor father, I shall now be ever present 
 with you," answered Alice. "I have placed our little one 
 in safe-keeping, and henceforth, while you remain here, I 
 shall have no other care but yourself." 
 
 " Methinks I have already been too much your sole 
 care, even to the neglect of your own health. Yet, ex 
 cept that sad look of sympathy, you seem not the worse 
 for the tending me, else I might, indeed, reproach myself 
 for this illness." 
 
 Well might William Heath say she had nursed him with 
 unselfish care, for never had it fallen to the lot of sick 
 man to be tended with such untiring devotion. For weeks 
 she had watched his every movement and look anti 
 cipated his every wish smoothed his pillow held the 
 cup to his parched lips soothed him with gentle and 
 sympathizing words when in pain cheered him when 
 despondent and seized only the intervals when he slept 
 to perform her other duties as a mother and daughter. It 
 is no wonder, therefore, that it appeared to him that she 
 had never been absent from his side. 
 
 Gently repelling his insinuation that she had been too 
 regardless of herself, she turned the conversation to a topic 
 which she was conscious would interest and cheer him. 
 
 "Continue to make all speed with this recovery, which 
 has thus far progressed so finely," said she, "for the op 
 portunity for your escape from this gloomy place is only 
 
 16*
 
 186 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 waiting until your strength is sufficiently recruited to em 
 brace it." 
 
 "That prospect it is alone," replied the invalid, "held 
 up before me so constantly as it has been during my illness, 
 which has had the power to prevent my sinking joyfully 
 into the grave from this miserable bed, rather than recover 
 to die a more violent and unnatural death." 
 
 "It waits alone for your recovery, dearest," repeated 
 his wife ; " and once in the wild woods of America, you 
 will be as unconfined and free as her own mountain air, 
 till the very remembrance of this dungeon will have passed 
 away." 
 
 "Sweet comforter," he said, taking her hand and 
 pressing it gratefully, " thou wouldst beguile my thoughts 
 thither, even before my footsteps are able to follow them." 
 
 "Thank me for nothing," said Alice; "I am but selfish 
 in all. The rather return thanks to the Lord for all his 
 mercies." 
 
 "True, He is the great fountain of goodness, and his 
 greatest of all blessings to me, Alice, is bestowed in 
 thyself." 
 
 "I fear thou art conversing too much," said Alice, after 
 a moment's pause, "and I would not that a relapse should 
 retard this projected escape a single day. Therefore I 
 will give thee a cordial, and thou must endeavour to rest 
 again." 
 
 So saying, she administered a soothing potion, and, 
 seating herself by his side, she watched him until he fell 
 into a peaceful slumber. Then, stealing so noiselessly away 
 from his pallet that her footsteps were inaudible, she gently
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 187 
 
 approached the door, and groped along a gallery for it 
 was now dark until she reached another door. It com 
 municated with a cell similar in all respects to that we 
 have described. 
 
 Within this, before a table, sat the figure of a solitary 
 man. He was elderly, but seemed more bent by some 
 recent sorrow than by the actual weight of years ; yet his 
 brow was somewhat wrinkled, and his locks in many places 
 much silvered with gray. But his countenance was re 
 markable, for it evinced a grandeur and dignity of soul 
 even through its trouble. Beside him, upon the table, 
 burned a solitary candle, whose long wick shed a blue and 
 flickering light upon the page of a Bible open before him. 
 
 Unlatching the door, Alice paused, for the clear and 
 deep voice of the inmate fell upon her ear: "Behold, 
 happy is the man whom God correcteth : therefore, despise 
 not thou the chastening of the Almighty: for he maketh 
 sore, and bindeth up; he woundeth, and his hands make 
 whole. He shall deliver thee in six troubles: yea, in 
 seven, there shall no evil touch thee." 
 
 Advancing, Alice threw her arms affectionately round 
 the neck of the person we have described, and interrupted 
 the reading, which, even more than her occasional visits, 
 Avas his chief stay and solace in his imprisonment. 
 
 "Thou wilt rejoice with me, my father, that William is 
 recovering. All that is needful now is for him to gather 
 strength sufficient to quit this place. I trust that ere six 
 weeks have elapsed we shall be on our way to America." 
 
 "Forget not, my child, Him to whom thy thanks are
 
 188 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 due for thy husband's prospect of recovery. Remember 
 the Lord in the midst of his mercies." 
 
 "I do, my father, and we will return praises together 
 ere I leave you." 
 
 "Saidst thou, Alice," asked the old man, after a short 
 silence, "that before six weeks have passed away, we may 
 be freed from this prison-house?" 
 
 "Yes, even so; and I have this day sent my infant in 
 advance of us." 
 
 " The Lord hath indeed been gracious to us, my daughter. 
 Let us arise at once and give thanks to his holy name." 
 
 At these words they arose together, after the manner of 
 their sect, and in an earnest, pathetic tone, the voice of 
 the aged Puritan ascended to Heaven. No palace halls or 
 brilliant ball-rooms, or garden walks, or trellised bowers 
 have ever shown so interesting a pair no festive scenes, 
 or gorgeous revels, or glittering orgies, ever rose upon so 
 beauteous an hour as did the captive's cell in that season 
 of prayer !
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 189 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " A lovely child she was, of looks serene, 
 And motions which on things indifferent shed 
 The grace and gentleness from whence they came." 
 
 SHELLEY. 
 
 " The child shall live." 
 
 TITUS ANDRONICUS. 
 
 " Here are two pilgrims, 
 And neither knows one footstep of the way." 
 
 KEYWORD'S DUCHESS OF SUFFOLK. 
 
 "With equal virtue formed, and equal grace, 
 The same, distinguished by their sex alone." 
 
 THOMPSON. 
 
 A SHORT gap in this narrative places the present action 
 of our story in America. It is needless here to narrate 
 the first settlement of the New England Colonies. The 
 landing of the Pilgrim Fathers has been immortalized both 
 in prose and verse until it has become as familiar to each 
 American as any household word. We will not, therefore, 
 ask the reader's detention at the perusal of a thrice-told 
 tale. It is likewise known that that landing was but the 
 herald of a succession of immigrations, and the establish 
 ment of numerous colonies. Owing to the talent and 
 liberal education, not less than the enterprise of the early 
 settlers, this wilderness was not long, in spite of repeated 
 obstacles, ere it grew up into flourishing villages and towns, 
 some of them fairer than had ever graced the stalworth 
 ground of Old England. 
 
 We introduce the reader into one of those villages,
 
 190 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 situated some twenty miles distant from New Haven. It 
 might somewhat surprise him when we say, were it not for 
 the frequent instances of the rapid growth of cities in our 
 western wilds, which we would remind him have sprung up 
 within his own recollection, that the latter place was, even 
 at the period to which we refer, a flourishing and important 
 town. Yet, notwithstanding the superior size and con 
 sequence of New Haven, the village of L was the 
 
 place in which the governor of the colony chose to reside. 
 Had the course of our narrative not led us thither, we 
 
 could have selected no better sample than L , of the 
 
 truth of what we have asserted regarding the existence of 
 neat and attractive villages in New England at that early 
 day. It was situated on the highroad, in a small valley, 
 through which wound down certain rocky falls, a clear rivu 
 let, that afforded excellent opportunities of fishing to such of 
 the inhabitants as were fond of the occupation of the angle. 
 These, however, were few, for then, as now, the people of 
 Connecticut possessed much of the same busy spirit which 
 is one of their distinguishing characteristics. The glassy 
 brook alluded to, served yet another purpose during the 
 season when the sportive inhabitants of the watery element 
 had disappeared. In the winter-time, when thickly frozen 
 over, it formed, out of their school-houses, the grand resort 
 of the children of the village for the purpose of skating 
 and sliding. There, at those times, on a clear, bracing 
 day, such as no country but New England ever shows in 
 perfection, might always be seen a crowd of these happy 
 beings, of both sexes, and of various ages, all collected to-
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 191 
 
 gether, some to partake and others merely to observe the 
 amusements mentioned. 
 
 Upon a certain day, the neighbourhood of the brook was 
 thronged even to a greater extent than usual, owing to the 
 exceeding brightness of the weather, which had led some 
 of the tenderest mothers to withhold their customary man 
 date enjoining immediate return from school, lest the be 
 loved object of the command might suffer from playing in 
 the cold. Among those who had thus had their ordinary 
 restrictions remitted, was a little girl, whose extreme love 
 liness must have arrested the attention of any observer. 
 Her features were not merely beautiful, but there was a 
 charm in her countenance more attractive still that purity 
 and mildness which our fancy attributes to angels. There 
 was a bewitching grace, moreover, in her attitude that 
 might have furnished delighted employment to the painter 
 and sculptor, had there been any time or inclination among 
 the colonists to bestow upon the cultivation of the arts. 
 
 This child was seemingly about five years old. She 
 was standing, with a number of other little ones of her 
 own age, looking on with great apparent delight now at 
 the larger boys, who were skating dexterously, and describ 
 ing many a circle and angle, unknown in mathematics, 
 upon the smooth surface of the brook, and then at a num 
 ber of girls merrily chasing each other upon a slide at one 
 side. 
 
 As one of the large boys spoken of passed her, he said, 
 " Come, Jessy, I will give you a ride upon the ice ;" and 
 taking her in his arms, he was soon again gliding rapidly 
 along.
 
 192 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 " Take care !" shouted a noble-looking youth, whose 
 glowing complexion and sparkling eye shone with the ex 
 citement of the exercise. " Take care, the ice is slightly 
 cracked there, and it will scarcely bear the double weight." 
 
 It was too late. Ere the words were well spoken, the 
 ice gave way, and the boy who bore the fair burden sunk 
 beneath the congealed element. 
 
 One loud shriek from the mingled voice of the young 
 spectators announced the frightful accident. 
 
 With the speed of lightning, the youth who had uttered 
 the words of warning darted forward, and plunging under 
 the ice, disappeared from view. 
 
 Great consternation prevailed for some moments. Many 
 of the children gave way to loud cries ; others quietly 
 wept ; while a few of the older and more considerate ran 
 toward their homes, in order to summon assistance. 
 
 In less time than it has taken to represent the state of 
 feeling which prevailed during his absence, Frank Stanley 
 rose to the surface, bearing in his arms the unconscious 
 form of the young creature he had saved. Recovering his 
 position on the ice, he speedily regained the shore, and 
 overcome with the exertion, laid her gently on the ground. 
 
 The heart in his bosom was frozen with cold, but a 
 quickening thrill passed through it, boy as he was, as he 
 gazed upon those sweetly composed features. Her hair 
 was dripping, and her long, wet lashes lay upon her cheek 
 as quietly as upon that of a dead child. Her garments 
 hung heavily around her, and her tiny hands, which were 
 half lost in their folds, were cold and still, as well as beau 
 tiful as gems of classic sculpture.
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 193 
 
 As his companions came up, bearing the other sufferer, 
 Frank Stanley hastily snatched off his own saturated coat, 
 and spread it over her senseless body, ere he again, with 
 recovered strength, raised her in his arms. 
 
 The alarmed villagers by this time came flocking to the 
 spot, among whom was the governor of the settlement, 
 whose venerable and striking countenance manifested pecu 
 liar anxiety. 
 
 "Your niece is safe, Governor H ," said Frank 
 
 Stanley, pressing forward and exposing his fair burHen. 
 " She is merely insensible from fright." 
 
 "Thank God that she is saved!" exclaimed the Gover 
 nor, receiving her in his arms. " But whose rash act was 
 it," continued he, looking sternly around among the boys, 
 " that exposed my Jessy to such peril ?" 
 
 Something like a flush of indignation "passed over the 
 countenance of young Stanley, as he replied, " It was an 
 accident, sir, which might have happened in the hands of 
 more experienced persons than ourselves." 
 
 " Thou hast been in danger thyself, Frank, hast thou 
 not?" asked the Governor, his stern mood giving way 
 immediately at the sight of the youth's dripping clothes. 
 "And is there no one else more dangerously injured?" 
 inquired he, casting an anxious, scrutinizing glance among 
 the collected group. 
 
 "Frederic, here, is wet too, but not otherwise the 
 worse for the accident." 
 
 " Let him and Frank, then, immediately return to their 
 homes, and don dry garments ; and I must look to my 
 little girl here, that she do not suffer for this." 
 
 17
 
 194 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 So saying, the Governor turned and departed, pressing 
 the little lifeless one more closely in his arms. 
 
 His disappearance was the signal for the dispersion of 
 the group, the young members of which turned toward 
 their homes, much sobered in spirits from the accident 
 here related. 
 
 Following Governor H. to his home, we will leave him 
 for a moment and pause to describe that rustic dwelling. 
 It was situated at some little distance from the main vil 
 lage, and was of larger size than most of the cottages 
 there. Like them, however, it bore the same rural name, 
 though it looked more like an English villa of some pre 
 tensions. On each side of a graceful portico stretched 
 piazzas, covered in summer with roses and woodbine, while 
 the neat enclosure in front, surrounded by its white paling, 
 bloomed richly with American plants and shrubbery. At 
 this season, however, the roses were dead, and the shrub 
 bery lifeless ; and the frozen ground of the well-kept walk 
 rung under the tread of the stout governor, as he flung 
 open the gate and rapidly approached the house. 
 
 The brilliant lustre of the brass knocker, the white and 
 spotless door-step, and the immaculate neatness of every 
 thing around, were types of the prevailing habits of the 
 proprietors. 
 
 At the door, awaiting Governor H.'s arrival, with great 
 anxiety depicted on their faces, stood two female figures, 
 the one being a genteel matron, somewhat advanced in 
 years, and the other a young lady of less than twenty 
 summers. 
 
 " Relieve yourselves of your apprehensions," said the
 
 THE LADY OP THE ROCK. 195 
 
 Governor, in a loud voice, as soon as he came within 
 speaking distance. " She had merely fainted from fright, 
 and seems to be even now gradually recovering." 
 
 "The Lord be praised!" exclaimed the ladies, advan 
 cing to the steps of the portico to meet him. 
 
 They entered the house together. In a moment the 
 fainting child was laid upon a couch, and being quickly 
 attired in dry clothing, restoratives were actively applied. 
 The elder female chafed her small, chilled palms in her 
 own, while the younger administered a warm drink to her 
 frozen lips. 
 
 After a short time she unclosed her eyes, smiled faintly, 
 and throwing her dimpled arms around the neck of the 
 young lady who bent over her, burst into tears. "My 
 dear sister," she said faintly, "I dreamed that I had gone 
 to heaven, where I heard sweet music, and saw little chil 
 dren like myself, with golden crowns upon their heads, 
 and beautiful lyres in their hands." 
 
 " God has not called thee there yet. He has kindly 
 spared thee to us a little longer," said the young person 
 to whom she spoke, stooping down and kissing her ten 
 derly, while she, in like manner, relieved herself by a 
 flood of tears. 
 
 " The Almighty is very merciful," said the matron, 
 wiping her eyes, while something like a moisture hung 
 upon the lashes of the Governor's piercing orbs, and dimmed 
 their usual keenness. 
 
 "I am not ill, uncle, aunt, Lucy, and we need none of 
 us cry," said the child, with the fickleness of an April 
 day and the elasticity of her years, instantly changing her
 
 TRUTH AND 1<'ANCY. 
 
 tears for smiles. " See, I am able to get up," she added, 
 disentangling herself from the embrace of her whom she 
 had called her sister, and sitting upon the side of the couch. 
 
 At that moment a shadow without attracted her atten 
 tion. " There is Mr. Elmore, Lucy !" she exclaimed, with 
 childish glee. 
 
 The young lady had barely time to wipe away the traces 
 of her recent emotion, when a tall figure crossed the por 
 tico and entered the room without ceremony. The new 
 comer was a young man in the bloom of youth. As he 
 entered he lifted his hat, and a quantity of fair brown hair 
 fell partially over a commanding forehead. His features 
 were handsome, and his aspect both manly and prepos 
 sessing. 
 
 The Governor and his wife advanced and greeted him 
 cordially, while the blush that mantled on the cheek of 
 Lucy Ellet, as she half rose and extended her hand to 
 him, told that a sentiment warmer than mere friendship 
 existed between them. 
 
 " Where is the young heroine of this accident, which I 
 hear had well-nigh proved fatal?" asked the stranger, 
 after he had exchanged congratulations with the rest. 
 
 The little Jessy, who had at first shrunk away with the 
 bashfulness of childhood, here timidly advanced. The 
 stranger smiled, stroked her soft ringlets, kissed her fair 
 brow, and she nestled herself in his breast. 
 
 The whole party drawing near the fire, an interesting 
 specimen was now exhibited of those social and endearing 
 habits of the early settlers peculiar to their intercourse. 
 
 The simple room and furniture were eloquent of the
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 197 
 
 poetry of home. Not decorated by any appendages of 
 mere show, whatever could contribute to sterling comfort 
 was exhibited in every nook and corner of the good-sized 
 apartment. The broad, inviting couch on which the res 
 cued child had lain was placed opposite the chimney. The 
 heavy book-case, containing the family library, occupied a 
 deep recess to the right. On the left was a side-board, 
 groaning with plate, the remains of English wealth. The 
 large, round dining-table, polished as a mirror, stood in its 
 customary place in the centre of the room. Two great 
 arm-chairs, covered with chintz and garnished with rockers 
 the seats belonging to the heads of the family filled a 
 space on either side of the hearth, within which burned a 
 huge turf fire, that threw its kindly warmth to the remo 
 test walls. Over the mantel-piece hung a full-length 
 miniature portrait of the first Protector of the British 
 Commonwealth. Coiled on a thick rug before the fire lay 
 a large Angola cat. A mastiff dog had so far overcome 
 his natural antipathy to her race, as to keep her company 
 on the other side ; while the loud breathings of both 
 evinced the depth of their slumbers. 
 
 The huge arm-chair on the left was the throne of the 
 Governor. There he received and dispatched the docu 
 ments pertaining to his office. There also he wrote his 
 letters, read his papers, received his visiters, conversed 
 with his friends, and chatted with his family. There, be 
 sides, he gave excellent advice to such of the members of 
 the settlement as needed it ; and there, above all, arose 
 morning and evening the voice of his pious worship. 
 
 The lesser arm-chair on the right was the seat of Mrs. 
 
 17*
 
 198 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 H., who, in like manner, had her established routine of 
 duties which she discharged there, with not less laudable 
 exactness and fidelity. Nor was there at any time a more 
 pleasing feature in the whole apartment than her motherly 
 figure and cheerful visage fixed within its comfortable em 
 brace. 
 
 While the party were agreeably engaged in conversa 
 tion they were suddenly interrupted by a loud knock at 
 the door. 
 
 "Who can that be?" said the Governor. "Will you 
 ask who knocks, Mr. Elmore?" 
 
 The latter rose and unlatched the door, when two figures 
 crossed the threshold. 
 
 "Pray pardon us," said one of the new comers, in a 
 courteous voice, " but having business of importance with 
 the Governor, we have ventured to intrude," and he lifted 
 his hat with something of foreign urbanity. 
 
 The speaker was not handsome, but there was a certain 
 elegance in his air and intelligence in his countenance that 
 were agreeable. He was clad in a velvet travelling-dress, 
 and possessed an address greatly superior to any of the 
 villagers, at the same time that his height and the breadth 
 of his muscular limbs were calculated to induce that admi 
 ration which the appearance of great strength in his sex 
 always inspires. 
 
 His companion was totally different in all outward re 
 spects being a man of about fifty years of age, attired in a 
 garb which was chiefly distinguished by an affectation of 
 ill-assorted finery. A coloured silk handkerchief, in which 
 glittered a large paste brooch, was twisted around his neck,
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 199 
 
 and his breeches were ornamented with plated buckles. 
 His harsh countenance was traced with furrows, while his 
 hair fell over a low and forbidding brow, on which hung a 
 heavy frown, unrelieved by any pleasing expression of the 
 other features. 
 
 "Walk in, gentlemen, and approach the fire," said Go 
 vernor H., rising and eyeing the strangers with a keen and 
 rather dissatisfied glance. 
 
 In drawing near, the younger gallant cast an unsup- 
 pressed look of admiration upon Lucy Ellet, that caused 
 her to bend down her sparkling eyes, which had previously 
 been fixed on himself and his companion with an arch ex 
 pression of penetrating curiosity. 
 
 It was not surprising that the attention of the stranger 
 had been attracted by the appearance of this young lady, 
 for, like the little Jessy, she was endowed with a more than 
 ordinary share of personal attractions. Yet it must be ad 
 mitted that the styles of their beauty were of an exactly 
 opposite cast. One of those singular freaks of Nature 
 which sometimes creates children of the same parents in 
 the most- dissimilar mould, seemed to have operated in their 
 case, to produce two sisters as unlike in every particular 
 relating to outward appearance as possible. 
 
 While the young countenance of Jessy was of the ten- 
 derest and softest Madonna cast, her eyes of a delicate 
 azure, and the light golden locks parted upon a fair brow, 
 like a gleam of sunshine upon a hill of snow, her sister's 
 face was precisely the opposite. Lucy's complexion, in 
 deed, was of the darkest hue ever seen in maidens of Eng 
 lish birth, yet mantled withal by so rich a shade of colour,
 
 200 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 that for many it might have possessed a greater charm than 
 the fairness of a blonde. Her hair was black as night ; 
 and her eyes, of the same hue, were never excelled in lustre 
 or beauty by the loveliest damsels of Spain. Her counte 
 nance was of a lively and expressive character, in which 
 spirit and wit seemed to predominate ; and the quick black 
 eye, with its beautifully pencilled brow, seemed to presage 
 the arch remark to which the rosy and half-smiling lip ap 
 peared ready to give utterance. 
 
 " We have ridden far," said the younger stranger, break 
 ing the silence which ensued when they had taken seats, 
 and turning his eye again on Lucy, as though he hoped to 
 elicit a reply to his remark. 
 
 He was not disappointed. " May I ask," said she, " what 
 distance you have come?" 
 
 "We left Massachusetts a couple of days ago," he re 
 plied, "and have been at hard riding ever since." 
 
 "You spoke of business, gentlemen," remarked the Go 
 vernor, rather impatiently ; " will you be so good as to pro 
 ceed with the object of your visit?" 
 
 "I address Governor H., sir, I presume?" said the ill- 
 looking stranger, speaking for the first time. 
 
 He signified assent. 
 
 " Our business is official and private," continued the 
 speaker, in a voice harsh and unpleasant, looking around 
 uneasily at the spectators. 
 
 " All affairs with me are conducted in the presence of my 
 family," said the Governor drily. 
 
 "It is imperative, sir, that we see you alone," urged the 
 other, in a dictatorial tone.
 
 THE LADY OF THE KOCK. 201 
 
 " Will you look whether there is a good fire in your little 
 sanctum?" said her uncle to Lucy, giving her at the same 
 time a significant glance, and having referred in his remark 
 to a small room adjoining, where Lucy not unfrequently 
 repaired, surrounded by numbers of the village children 
 with whom she was a general favourite to dress their dolls, 
 cover their balls, and perform other similar acts. Here, 
 too, she retired for the purpose of reading, writing, and 
 other occasions of privacy. More than all, it was the spot 
 sacred to an hour's conversation with Mr. Elmore, apart 
 from the rest of the family, during his visits. 
 
 The little Jessy anticipated Lucy, just as she was rising, 
 and opened the door leading to the room spoken of. 
 
 " The fire burns brightly, uncle," said the child. 
 
 "Will you walk in here with me, gentlemen?" said the 
 Governor. 
 
 The two strangers rose, and Governor H. held the door 
 until they had preceded him into the room. Going in last, 
 he threw another expressive glance at Lucy, and followed 
 them, leaving the door ajar. 
 
 Lucy, with the quickness of her character, read in her 
 uncle's look that he wished her to overhear the conversa 
 tion about to take place between himself and his visiters. 
 Moving her chair, therefore, near the half open door, while 
 her lover was engaged in speaking with her aunt, and play 
 ing at the same time with the soft curls of the fair Jessy, 
 who was leaning on his knee, she applied herself to listen. 
 
 " Your names first, gentlemen ; you have not yet intro 
 duced yourselves," said her uncle's voice. 
 
 "Mr. Dale," replied the pleasing tones of the young
 
 202 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 stranger who had spoken on their first entrance, "and 
 Mr. Brooks." 
 
 "Be seated, then, Messrs. Dale and Brooks," observed 
 the Governor, " and have the kindness to proceed in unfold 
 ing the nature of jour errand." 
 
 " I am the bearer of these documents for you," said the 
 harsh voice of him who had been introduced as Mr. Brooks. 
 
 Lucy here heard the rattling of paper, as though the 
 Governor were unfolding a letter. He proceeded to read 
 aloud : 
 
 " The bearers, James Brooks and Thomas Dale, having 
 been empowered by his Majesty, in the enclosed warrant, 
 to seize the persons of the escaped regicides, Lisle and 
 Heath, you are hereby desired, not only to permit said 
 Brooks and Dale to make thorough search throughout your 
 colony, but likewise to furnish them with every facility for 
 that purpose ; it being currently believed that the said regi 
 cides are secreted in New Haven. 
 
 " ENDICOTT, 
 
 " Governor of Massachusetts Colony." 
 
 There was now again a rattling, as if occasioned by the 
 unfolding of paper. The Governor continued : 
 
 " Whereas, Henry Lisle and William Heath, of the city 
 of London, having been confined under charge of treason 
 and rebellion, have made their escape and whereas it is 
 believed they have fled to our possessions in America, we 
 do hereby authorize and appoint our true and loyal sub 
 jects, James Brooks and Thomas Dale, to make diligent 
 search throughout all the New England colonies for the
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 203 
 
 said traitors and rebels. Moreover, we do hereby command 
 our subjects, the governors and deputy-governors of said 
 colonies, to aid and abet, by all possible means, their cap 
 ture and imprisonment : And we do hereby denounce as 
 rebels any who may secrete or harbour said Lisle and Heath, 
 in the accomplishing of this our royal mandate." 
 
 Lucy heard her uncle clear his throat after he had ceased 
 reading, and there was a moment's pause. 
 
 "It will be impossible," said he at length, "Messrs. 
 Brooks and Dale, for me to act officially in this matter until 
 I have convened the magistrates of the colony." 
 
 "I see no necessity for anything of the kind," said Mr. 
 Brooks, in an irritated tone. 
 
 "Nevertheless, there exists a very great necessity," an 
 swered the Governor, decidedly ; " so much so that, as I 
 have said, it will be utterly out of the question for me to 
 proceed independently in relation to the affair." 
 
 "How soon, then, can this convocation be summoned?" 
 
 " Not certainly before twenty-four hours from this time," 
 replied the Governor, " or perhaps a day later. You are 
 aware that the meeting will have to take place in New 
 Haven, which is twenty miles distant." 
 
 " We might easily proceed there at once, and reach the 
 place in time to call a convention, and settle the affair to 
 night," urged Mr. Brooks, dictatorially. 
 
 " I am a slow man, and cannot bring myself to be in a 
 hurry. One night can make no possible difference, and to 
 morrow I will call a meeting of the magistrates." 
 
 Lucy here arose, and approached a door leading to the 
 outer piazza. Her lover's eye followed her graceful figure
 
 204 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 with a feeling of pride as she crossed the room. She turned 
 at the door, and seeking his eye ere she closed it, gave him 
 a signal to follow her. 
 
 In some surprise, he instantly obeyed. 
 
 "Henry," she said, earnestly and in a low voice, as if 
 fearing that some one might chance to be near, " Henry, I 
 have overheard what has passed between my uncle and his 
 visiters. The latter are persons commissioned by King 
 Charles to apprehend the escaped prisoners who have taken 
 refuge in New Haven. They wish to obtain authority for 
 their arrest and re-imprisonment, as well as for making a 
 strict^ search throughout the colony, and will probably ob 
 tain this to-morrow. What do you think can be done in 
 this emergency?" 
 
 "I scarce know what to say, dear Lucy," said he, as he 
 took her hand involuntarily, and seemed to be reflecting 
 deeply on her words. 
 
 " Could not you," resumed Lucy, " return at once to 
 New Haven, and apprise the exiles of their danger?" 
 
 "Excellent ! I will set out at once." 
 
 " I have thought of a place of security for them like 
 wise," continued Lucy, and she drew nearer and whispered 
 a word in his ear. 
 
 "Admirable girl!" exclaimed her lover, delightedly. 
 " Why, Lucy, I believe you are inspired by the Almighty 
 for the exigencies of this moment. But I must depart 
 without delay." 
 
 " Yes," said Lucy, " there is not an instant's time to be 
 lost ; and I will contrive to detain the officers until you are
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 205 
 
 too far on your way for them to overtake you, in case they 
 should design proceeding to New Haven to-night." 
 
 He pressed her hand affectionately to his lips, and was 
 gone. 
 
 Lucy returned into the room she had left just at the 
 moment that her uncle and the strangers re-entered. 
 
 "Your visitors, uncle, will probably remain and take 
 some refreshment," said she, as she perceived they were 
 about to depart, and giving him at the same time an arch 
 look to second her invitation. " Tea will be in in a short 
 time, gentlemen," she added, fixing her eyes on the younger 
 stranger with such a coquettish urgency as to make her 
 appeal irresistible. 
 
 " Take seats, gentlemen," said the Governor, in a more 
 cordial tone than he had yet assumed. 
 
 "I thank you," said Mr. Brooks, "but we will " 
 
 "We will remain," interrupted Mr. Dale, giving a wink 
 to his companion, and turning toward the fire. 
 
 Mr. Brooks had no alternative but to follow his example ; 
 and the Governor and his wife held him in conversation, 
 while Lucy exerted all her powers of entertainment for the 
 benefit of Mr. Dale. The little Jessy, more wearied than 
 usual in consequence of her late adventure, fell asleep upon 
 the couch, and did not awake until tea was over, and the 
 visitors had departed. 
 
 True to his promise, early on the following morning 
 Governor H. set out for New Haven, and convened the 
 magistrates of the colony. After a short consultation, the 
 determination was arrived at, that the exiled regicides not 
 having violated any of the laws by which the community 
 
 18
 
 206 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 was governed, were not subject to arrest under their order. 
 But to that part of the mandate authorizing a search to be 
 made, and prohibiting a secretion of the offenders, they paid 
 loyal respect, and the sanctity of every house was resigned 
 and exposed to the inquisition of the officers. Their search, 
 however, was unsuccessful, and they set out the next morn 
 ing on their return to Massachusetts.
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 207 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Which sloping hills around enclose, 
 Where many a beech and brown oak grows, 
 Beneath whose dark and branching bowers 
 Its tide a far-famed river pours, 
 By Nature's beauties taught to please, 
 Sweet Tusculan of rural ease." 
 
 WAKTON. 
 
 " Have I beheld a vision ?" 
 
 OLD PLAY. 
 
 THE gentle breath of spring-time was now stirring in L. 
 The trees had begun to blossom, the flowers to bud, and the 
 tender grass to spring up beneath the tread. Birds were 
 returning from exile, and fishes were re-peopling the village 
 rivulet. Nature, in short, was assuming her most attrac 
 tive and becoming dress that attire which many a wor 
 shipper has celebrated in songs such as not the gaudiest 
 birthnight garb of any other queen has ever elicited. After 
 these, it is not we who dare venture to become her laureate 
 on the occasion referred to, when she outshone herself in 
 that gentle season, in the balminess of her breath and the 
 brightness of her sky, as well as in all those other particu 
 lars which are dependent upon these. Those who have 
 lived the longest may recall every return of spring within 
 their recollection, and select the fairest of the hoard, but 
 it will still refuse comparison with the spring of which we 
 speak. 
 
 The pretty English custom of children celebrating the
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 first of May by an excursion into the country had been 
 preserved among the colonists. On that day, from every 
 village and town a flock of these happy beings, dressed 
 with uncommon attention, and provided with baskets, 
 might be seen merrily departing on one of these picnic 
 rambles. Every excursion of this kind was not merely an 
 event in the future, but an epoch in the past. The recol 
 lection of each successive May-day, treasured up through 
 out the following year, never became so swallowed up in 
 that which came after it, that it did not preserve in its 
 own associations and incidents a separate place in the 
 memory. 
 
 But an occurrence transpired on the May-day of which 
 we are about to speak, for the little villagers of L., calcu 
 lated to fix it indelibly on their remembrance. The morn 
 ing rose as serene and clear as if no pleasure excursion 
 had been intended. A large party of children set out 
 from their homes on the day alluded to. This was com 
 posed, with very few exceptions and additions, of the same 
 group which tad been collected the previous winter about 
 the frozen brook on the day of the accident to the young 
 niece of the governor. 
 
 The utmost harmony and good conduct prevailed among 
 the youthful corps, which was generalled by the sage and 
 skilful Lucy Ellet, who, in order to preserve order on all 
 festive occasions, lent the young people her decorous ex 
 ample, and the experience of her superior years. The 
 young procession made a beautiful appearance as it wound 
 along the verdant banks of the village rivulet, and was lost 
 among the neighbouring hills.
 
 THE LADY OF THE KOCK. 209 
 
 The spot selected as the place of rendezvous was an 
 umbrageous woods in a green valley, surrounded by 
 various rocky hills of considerable height, rising in some 
 places one above another with great regularity, the highest 
 apparently touching the horizon, and the progressive as 
 cent seeming like a ladder of approach to the sky. The 
 cavities and crevices of these hills were numerous, serving 
 as excellent retreats for the children in their game of hide- 
 and-seek, as well as for the retirement of separate groups 
 apart from each other. This vicinity had, therefore, for 
 years been the stated resort on May-day occasions ; yet 
 not alone for the advantages mentioned, since the shady 
 grove attached to it, well cleared beneath the tread, might 
 of itself have been sufficient cause for its selection. Even 
 in winter it was a sheltered and sequestered spot; but when 
 arrayed in the verdure of spring, the earth bringing forth 
 all her wild flowers, the shrubs spreading their wealth of 
 blossoms around it, and the thick branches interweaving 
 their leaves to intercept the sun, it was a peculiarly ap 
 propriate place for the purpose in question. If a gardener 
 would have deplored the opportunities of embellishment 
 which had been here suffered to lie undeveloped, a true 
 lover of scenery would have been glad that the wild and 
 picturesque spot had been left undisturbed by the hands 
 of industry or art. The situation had been first dis 
 covered, and its aptitude for the purpose which it served, 
 pointed out by Lucy Ellet, ever interested, since she had 
 emerged from her own childhood, in considering the hap 
 piness and pleasure of the little community. 
 
 18*
 
 210 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 On the day in question it was therefore remarked as 
 somewhat strange that that young lady strove to exert 
 her influence in prevailing on the party to turn another 
 way, expending much eloquence in extolling the superior 
 advantages of a spot of ground situated in an opposite 
 direction. The former prejudice in favour of the other 
 prevailed, and the assemblage repaired thither as usual. 
 
 In this glade the forest trees were somewhat wildly 
 separated from each other, and the ground beneath was 
 covered with a carpet of the softest and loveliest green, 
 that, being well shaded from the heat of the sun, was as 
 beautifully tender as such spots are in the milder and 
 more equable climes of the South. 
 
 The morning was occupied in crowning and doing 
 honour to the lovely little Jessy Ellet, who had been 
 unanimously chosen, according to a custom prevalent, the 
 queen of the day. At noon dinner was served upon the 
 grass from the contents of the various baskets, and the 
 afternoon passed in the customary sports. 
 
 It had been noticed by such of the children as were old 
 enough to be in any-wise observant, that Lucy Ellet, so 
 far from busying herself as usual to devise rambles among 
 the hills and promote diversity of amusement, would have 
 used her persuasions to detain the young people the whole 
 day in the grove. Her amiable disposition, however, pre 
 vented her from employing positive authority in restrain 
 ing their footsteps, and she had been obliged, however 
 regretfully, to behold them wander abroad at their plea 
 sure.
 
 THE LADY OP THE ROCK. 211 
 
 When the members of the scattered assemblage were 
 re-collecting around her, late in the afternoon, previous to 
 their return home, she anxiously scanned their several 
 countenances as they appeared, as if to detect whether 
 any individual had made an unusual or curious discovery. 
 She seemed satisfied, at length, that this was not the case, 
 and evinced extreme satisfaction when, a little before 
 sunset, the party set out on their return to L. 
 
 They had not proceeded far, however, ere it was disco 
 vered that the young May-queen was missing from the 
 party. In small alarm, they retraced their steps, expect 
 ing to find her fallen asleep under the trees where they 
 had dined. But on arriving at the spot she was nowhere 
 to be seen. Her name was next loudly called, yet there 
 was no reply. Apprehension now seized every member of 
 the young party, who dispersed in various directions in 
 search of the lost child. 
 
 Frank Stanley, the youth who, it will be remembered, 
 had once been her preserver from a watery grave, evinced 
 especial uneasiness at her singular absence, and was, per 
 haps her sister excepted, whose anxiety amounted almost 
 to frenzy the most active in his endeavours to discover 
 her. Separating himself entirely from the rest, he climbed 
 among the rocky hills, and searched in every nook and 
 cavity, at the same time shouting her name until his voice 
 was drowned in the resounding echoes. 
 
 At length he had given up his search in despair, and 
 was in the act of descending, when he heard a soft call 
 from behind him. He turned, and on a higher hill than
 
 212 TRUTH A>TD FASCT. 
 
 any of the young villagers bad ever been known to climb, 
 U etched omt mpon its side in calmness sleeping, lay the 
 fair object of his search I On the rock above her. round 
 which the dew of evening had gathered die thickest, he 
 beheld standing, apparently to keep watch upon the child's 
 snmbers, a foil-grown female figure. This form, reflected 
 against tike sky, appeared rather the undefined lineaments 
 of a spirit than a- mortal, for her person seemed as light 
 and almost as transparent as the thin cloud of mist that 
 surrounded her. The smoky fight of the setting sun gave 
 a hazy, dubious, and, as it were, phantom-like appearance 
 to the strange apparition. He had scarcely time, however, 
 to note this, ere she vanished from his view, so suddenly 
 and mysteriously, that he could hardly distinguish whether 
 he had been subjected to a mere illusion of the senses, or 
 whether be bad actually seen the aerial figure we have 
 described. Yet he could in no other wise account for the 
 voice be bad beard, except by ascribing it to the same 
 vague form, lor the child was evidently in too deep a sleep 
 to hare uttered any sound. Doubtful what to believe in 
 regard to this phantom-image, and in that perplexed state 
 natural to one not willing to believe that his sight had 
 deceived him, ere he yielded himself up to the joy of 
 recovering Jessy EHet, whom be loved with the depth and 
 ii ii alii in 1 if of more mature age, he hastily climbed to the 
 spot where it bad appeared. There was no trace, however, 
 of the vision to be seen. It had melted again into that 
 air from which it bad seemed embodied. Immediately 
 be lifted *^ slumbering child, whom he
 
 THE LADY OF THE BOCK. 213 
 
 had found a4 last, and imprinting a kiss vpon her face, 
 proceeded to bear her down the hilL 
 
 On reaching the valley, he found the rest of die party 
 collected in the grove, after an unsuccessful search, in 
 great anxiety awaiting his return. 
 

 
 '214 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " Night wanes the vapours round the mountain curled 
 Melt into morn, and light awakes the world. 
 Man has another day to swell the past, 
 And lead him near to little but his last." 
 
 BYRON'S LARA. 
 
 " The double night of ages, and of her, 
 Night's daughter, Ignorance, hath wrapt and wraps 
 All round us; we but feel our way to err!" 
 
 CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE. 
 
 THE adventure of young Stanley, recorded in the last 
 chapter, made a strong impression on his mind. The 
 more he reflected on what he had beheld, the more he 
 became convinced that it was no mere conjuration of his 
 fancy. Nothing in his feelings at the moment, absorbed 
 as they were with thoughts of the little truant he had 
 been seeking, could have suggested to his imagination the 
 image which arose before him. That it was an embodi 
 ment of some kind he became therefore convinced, though 
 he could not believe either that it was human, when he 
 remembered the sudden and mysterious manner of its dis 
 appearance. 
 
 Frank Stanley was by nature neither timorous nor cre 
 dulous, and a course of reading, more extensive than usual 
 for boys at his age, had in some degree fortified his mind 
 against the attacks of superstition ; but he would have been
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 215 
 
 an actual prodigy, if, living in New England in the end of 
 the seventeenth century, he had possessed a philosophy 
 which did not exist there until much later. Those, there 
 fore, who will recall to mind the superstitious feelings at 
 that time prevalent among the early settlers, will not be 
 surprised that our youthful hero should have closed his 
 reflections with the conviction that he had beheld a super 
 natural visitant. That its mission, however, was not an 
 unholy one he might have believed, when he recollected 
 that he had seen it keeping watch over the lost child of 
 his boyish love, and that its voice had been the means of 
 directing him to the spot where she lay. But he had so 
 strongly imbibed the common idea that all supernatural 
 indications were demonstrations of the Evil One, that his 
 cogitations the rather resolved themselves into fears that 
 she who had been so guarded by one of his emissaries, 
 though in the form of the being of light that he had 
 beheld, was marked out as a victim of future destruction. 
 
 This idea became agony to the sensitive mind of the 
 boy, whose heart had outstripped, in a great measure, his 
 years, and was fixed with sentiments of strong attachment 
 upon the little girl. He determined, therefore, to keep 
 constant watch upon the child's movements, and should he 
 behold her again in the hands of the tempter, by timely 
 warning to her sister to enlist her in attempts to destroy 
 the power of the enemy by fasting and prayer. 
 
 Thoughts of the kind described had disturbed Stanley's 
 mind during the whole night succeeding his adventure, 
 and caused him the first sleepless pillow he had ever 
 known. He rose earlier than usual the next day. Feel-
 
 216 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 ing languid from want of his customary rest, he walked 
 out to recover his freshness in the morning air. Even to 
 those who, like Stanley, have spent a sleepless and anxious 
 night, the breeze of the dawn brings strength and quicken 
 ing both of mind and body. He bent his steps involunta 
 rily toward the place of the previous day's innocent revel. 
 
 The day was delightful. There was just enough motion 
 in the air to disturb the little fleecy clouds which were 
 scattered on the horizon, and by floating them occasionally 
 over the sun, to checker the landscape with that variety of 
 light and shade which often gives to a bare and unenclosed 
 scene, a species of charm approaching to the varieties of a 
 cultivated and planted country. 
 
 When Stanley had reached the borders of the grove in 
 which the party had dined, he cast his eyes upward on 
 the hills where he had climbed in search of Jessy Ellet. 
 Curiosity suggested to him to ascend again to the spot 
 where he had beheld the strange apparition. Fear for 
 himself knew no place in his brave young soul. He felt 
 that his virtuous and strong heart was even proof against 
 the power of Satan and his agents. He proceeded, there 
 fore, to remount the hills, in hopes that he might again 
 behold the shadowy spirit, and perchance have time to 
 question it of its errand to earth, ere it a second time dis 
 appeared. When he arrived beneath the well-remembered 
 rock, he raised his eyes, more however in the expectation 
 of being disappointed in the object of his quest, than with 
 any actual idea of meeting a return of his former vision. 
 
 It was consequently with the astonishment of one utterly 
 unprepared, that he beheld, standing upon the rocky eleva-
 
 THE LIA.DY OF THE ROCK. 217 
 
 tion, the same figure of the mist which had filled his waking 
 dreams throughout the night. The sudden sight took from 
 him, for the instant, both speech and motion. It seemed 
 as if his imagination had raised up a phantom presenting 
 to his outward senses the object that engrossed his mind. 
 She seemed clad in white, and her hair of threaded gold, 
 while her complexion looked radiant and pure through the 
 rising beams that reflected upon it. In the morning vapour 
 she appeared even more transparent than in the sunset 
 dew; so much so, that the broken corner of the rock which 
 she had chosen for her pedestal, would have seemed unsafe 
 for any more substantial figure than her own. Yet she 
 rested upon it as securely and lightly as a bird upon the 
 stem of a bush. The sun, which was rising exactly opposite, 
 shed his early rays upon her shadowy form and increased 
 its aerial effect. Internal and indefinable feelings re 
 strained the youth from accosting her, as he had thought 
 to have done. These are easily explained, on the suppo 
 sition that his mortal frame shrunk at the last moment 
 from an encounter with a being of a different nature. 
 
 As the boy gazed, spell-bound, he observed that this 
 being of the vapour was not alone. Ere long, however, he 
 became aware that near her, in the middle of the rock, 
 where the footing was more secure, stood another form. 
 Fixing his bewildered gaze steadily upon this second object, 
 in order to scan it as carefully as he had done the other, 
 he became convinced that it was a familiar figure. For a 
 moment his memory failed him, and he could not place 
 that round and coquettish form, with its garb of rich pink, 
 nor that face, with its sparkling eyes of jet, and its raven 
 
 19
 
 218 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 braids. His doubt, however, lasted but for an instant. 
 It was Lucy Ellet whom he beheld. She perceived his 
 proximity before her companion, for, turning to the phan 
 tom-form, she pointed to him just as he himself was about 
 to speak. Ere his words were uttered, the misty figure 
 had vanished from her side, and she remained upon the 
 rock alone. 
 
 Awe-struck, the youth turned to depart. "Both the 
 sisters, then, thought he, are in league with this spirit- 
 messenger of darkness. Alas! each so fair in their dif 
 ferent styles, so idolized in the village, one of whom, too, 
 I have treasured up her childish image in my heart, and 
 mixed it with all my young dreams of the future!" He 
 perceived, moreover, that such an association as he had 
 witnessed with the emissaries of evil, might not only be a 
 soil upon the virtue of Lucy and Jessy Ellet, but a lasting 
 disgrace to their names, should the knowledge of it come 
 to the ears of the pious community. Congratulating him 
 self that he alone was privy to the unhappy circumstance, 
 he was wending his way down the declivity when his 
 meditations were interrupted by the gay voice of Lucy 
 Ellet behind him. 
 
 "Out on your vaunted politeness, Master Frank, to 
 trudge down hill in front of a lady, and never turn to offer 
 her your arm." 
 
 "Excuse me, Miss Lucy," replied Stanley, stopping and 
 much embarrassed, " methought you would not desire to be 
 troubled with my company." 
 
 "I honour your delicacy, Frank," resumed Lucy, taking 
 his arm, as they walked on. " You saw me but now in
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 219 
 
 circumstances which you rightly judge I intended to he 
 secret, and would not mortify me by forcing me to meet 
 you just at the moment of my detection." 
 
 After an instant's pause, she continued. "I will let 
 you into the secret, Frank, for there may one day be need 
 to employ your services ; and I am sure I may rely on your 
 judgment and discretion not to divulge what I shall unfold. 
 Your occasional assistance is the only return I demand for 
 my confidence. Yon stranger lady is " 
 
 "Hold, Miss Ellet, I cannot consent to obtain any 
 knowledge of your secret under the condition that I am to 
 become a party in the sinful affair. I will not unite in 
 league with any daughter of the clouds or spirit of dark 
 ness." 
 
 " Then you deem her whom you saw beside me on the 
 rock one of those visionary beings you mention?" asked 
 Lucy, looking at him steadily, to learn if he were in 
 earnest, and an arch smile curling on her mouth, and 
 sparkling in her eyes, when she perceived that he had 
 spoken seriously. 
 
 "What else can I think of one who hath scarce the 
 weight of a feather, is transparent as a cloud, and dis- 
 solveth in a moment into air?" 
 
 Lucy Ellet here laughed outright. But instantly check 
 ing herself and looking grave, she replied, in a mysterious 
 tone, "I have, indeed, a strange associate in yonder lady 
 of the mist. And you positively decline an introduction 
 to her?" 
 
 "I did not think thou wouldst thus seek to destroy 
 others as well as thyself, Miss Ellet. Is it through thine
 
 thai thy sister has been made acquainted with the 
 pOjprifc] ' 
 
 "Ofc, thoa fearest for her, dost thoaf said Lucy, mis- 
 the opportunity of taramg the eonver- 
 "Tfcom wouldst lave her kept ntifnlrrtfi from sin 
 that she vay be thine when thoa art a man. eh. 
 Frank? 3tay, ywi aeed act hbsh, though you see I read 
 
 Stanley's thuaf^tii were now completely directed from 
 Ac first topic of rtTTT matitMi, and tn^tr"g on indifferent 
 dhJLLitti, laej EDet aad hLsatlf catered the rfflage.
 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 CEOLT. 
 
 To 1 - iJey's congrarthrioiM tint he 
 of the communication held by Lucy EBet aa 
 with the mystonoBS creature whom he had 
 destined to be of long duration. The la-dy of the 
 was soon beheld by various other petauai of the viftigr at 
 different times and the Hmmuted Reck hmf am object 
 of universal dread. The roaoar, utewa, speedfly grew 
 rife that the object of her liiil ripm was to hold 
 
 
 
 colony. These, therefore, from having hem the, idols of 
 all classes in the place, became aalijiiciu of cariosity aad 
 vague apprehension. 
 
 ; 
 
 ch%* |us which makes us icgict her bawBhaMSBt ia a state 
 of society enlightened by rcaaoa and eaWalina). Her sja- 
 tem of imaginary terras had nnaaHaiag errkittg to minds 
 fond of feeding upon the marrefloBS. This is especially 
 one with regard to the lighter forms in which she some 
 times appeared when Hartame-teQers were introduced at 
 pan of the anutsei&ents of the age, aad their 
 
 :;*
 
 222 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 garded as serious and prophetic earnest. But, as we have 
 seen, none of the lighter forms by which imagination 
 works upon her subjects were here indulged as the food of 
 a wild and wayward fancy. Their belief, though not less 
 erroneous, was founded on the records of that page which 
 cannot lie, and which warned them of the existence of one 
 great and mighty spirit of evil, wandering to and fro in 
 the earth, and seeking to decoy the souls of mankind to 
 his abode of darkness. The object of this dread was no 
 other than he who had once stood high in Heaven, and 
 afterward became prince of the powers of Hell. 
 
 Recollecting that the wiles of this same adversary prac 
 tised upon the mother of our race, had become the means 
 of expelling her from the bowers of Paradise, and bringing 
 " death into the world and all our wo," it is not surprising 
 that Lucy and Jessy Ellet were now regarded with sus 
 picion on all hands. The gossips, like the sibyls, after con 
 sulting their leaves, arranged and combined their informa 
 tion, which passed through a hundred channels, and in a 
 hundred, different varieties in the village of L. The ru 
 mours to which their communications gave rise were strange 
 and inconsistent. The result was that the society of the 
 sisters became as much avoided as it had been previously 
 sought after. Closer observation, however, caused the 
 chief blame to rest upon Lucy, who was seen daily, at 
 sunrise and sunset, wending her way to the haunted spot. 
 
 It was some weeks after Stanley's first sight of the 
 phantom lady that twilight overtook him on an evening 
 ramble. He had carefully, since the time we have de 
 scribed, avoided bending his steps toward that vicinity in
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 223 
 
 any of his walks. Accordingly, on this evening, he had 
 turned off at the outskirts of the village, at a place where 
 another road met that leading to the fearful spot. Having 
 been occupied with reflections of a deeper cast than are 
 common to youths, he had remained until the slow depart 
 ing sunset reminded him to retrace his steps. On ap 
 proaching the place where the two roads met, he was 
 startled by the sight of a light figure emerging into the 
 main path. The thought of the strange lady of the mist 
 instantly suggested itself to the mind of the youth. A 
 new moon had just risen behind the dim embodiment, and 
 shed her soft rays upon the spot where it stood. The last 
 beams of the setting sun were almost lost beyond the dis 
 tant hills, and nothing but the soft light of that evening- 
 queen lit the scene. 
 
 Stanley advanced to meet the spectral shape it turned 
 a pair of dark eyes flashed from beneath a silken hood, 
 and the clear voice of Lucy Ellet sounded in his ears. 
 
 "AYell met, Master Frank Stanley," it said; "you 
 have avoided me of late, as have all our villagers." 
 
 " After what I have been witness to, Miss Lucy," began 
 Stanley 
 
 " Believe me, Frank, the interview you beheld between 
 myself and the Lady of the Rock was pure as the inter 
 course above." 
 
 "I beseech you, Lucy Ellet," exclaimed the youth, 
 earnestly, and not heeding her words, " for your own 
 soul's sake, for your young sister's sake, cease these sus 
 picious visits to yonder mysterious spot!" 
 
 " Oblige me, then, in relieving me of my duty toward
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 that unhappy lady, by assuming the task hitherto per 
 formed by myself, and I will go thither no more." 
 
 " I would do aught but perjure my own soul, to have 
 thee and thy sister reinstated in the opinion of our little 
 community, to say nothing of saving ye both from future 
 destruction. Yet," continued he, "if I also must hold 
 frequent converse with that visionary form, I dare not " 
 
 " Out on thee, Frank," interrupted the young lady, "I 
 had thought thee a brave youth, afraid of nothing but sin." 
 
 " And is it not sin to hold constant speech with a spirit- 
 messenger of Satan?" inquired the boy. 
 
 " I will request thee to have no speech of her ; I would 
 merely depute you to bear, morning and evening, a little 
 basket, resembling this, (and she drew one from beneath 
 her shawl,) place it on the rock wait until the unknown 
 lady appears to remove it, and replace it with another 
 then return to the village. Do this to oblige me, Frank, 
 and save me the necessity I shall otherwise be under of con 
 tinuing the visits so execrated. More confidence I cannot 
 put in you at present ; but will you not have faith that I 
 would not instigate you to the performance of an act that 
 was otherwise than noble?" 
 
 "Lucy Ellet," said Stanley, looking on her steadily, 
 " there is that in your manner and your words which shows 
 me that you are actuated by some generous principle in this 
 singular affair. What this mystery may be, time must 
 prove. I will do your errand." 
 
 " The Lord reward you," replied Miss Ellet. " The bas 
 ket, then, shall be placed under the large willow-tree at the
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 225 
 
 end of your father's orchard, that we may not seem to have 
 any connexion in regard to it. You must always replace 
 on the same spot the one you will receive at the rock; and 
 I will cause it to be removed and replenished in time to 
 have it there again, ready for your next visit. But here 
 we are, within the village," added Lucy, " and had better 
 not be seen together, lest it might excite suspicion. You 
 will find a circuitous path to the rock in yonder direction," 
 she continued, pointing to the left, " and had better use it 
 in your excursions, that you may be the more likely to 
 escape notice." So saying, and without giving the youth 
 time to reply, Lucy parted from Stanley, and soon after 
 turned into her uncle's house. 
 
 The boy proceeded on his way with an undefinable sen 
 timent of approval in his bosom. Some instinct had 
 prompted him, notwithstanding all his preconceived no 
 tions of horror at the abandonment of the young Ellets to 
 the power of the Lady of the Rock, to accede to Lucy's 
 proposal that he would supply her place in her daily visits 
 to that mysterious being ; and so far from feeling any re 
 proaches of conscience in remembering that he had given 
 her his promise to that effect, he rather enjoyed all the 
 elation of spirit experienced by one who generously sacri 
 fices himself to suspicion for a noble cause. Something in 
 Lucy Ellet's manner convinced him that feelings of the 
 same kind had actuated her conduct in this strange affair, 
 and he thought of her now more with admiration than with 
 reproach. "Yet what," said he to himself, startled at the 
 change a half an hour had wrought in his views. " if this
 
 TEUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 approbation of myself and Miss Ellet be only a suggestion 
 of the arch tempter to place me in his power?" But no; 
 the idea was dismissed in a moment, as incompatible with 
 his feelings of satisfaction in what he had pledged himself 
 to undertake. 
 
 Stanley rose at sunrise on the following morning, for 
 the purpose of commencing the fulfilment of his promise. 
 Seeking the willow-tree in the garden, he found the little 
 basket prepared for him, and assuming the charge of it, 
 set out upon his walk. He speedily turned into the wind 
 ing path indicated by Lucy Ellet, and pursued his way. 
 The morning beams were just breaking, and their light 
 glanced upon the dewy grass beneath his feet, and caused 
 it to sparkle as though his tread were upon myriads of 
 diamonds. The waking birds were chanting their matin 
 lays, and the insects humming in every brake and dingle. 
 Every thing gave promise of one of those days in the latter 
 end of May when spring seems" resolved to triumph over 
 summer, by contrasting her superiority in beauty and fresh 
 ness with that sultry season so soon to appear, at the same 
 time that she might almost vie with the latter in the genial 
 heat of her noontide sun. 
 
 But the balmy morning and the day it presaged were 
 alike lost on our hero, whose mind was filled with reflections 
 concerning his singular mission. He walked on, wrapt in 
 thought, till he approached the foot of the hills. He there 
 paused, despite his conclusions of the previous evening, 
 overpowered with a doubtful feeling regarding his errand. 
 He was about to minister to the shadowy spirit whom he
 
 THE LADY OF THE BOCK. 227 
 
 had twice beheld upon that insecure summit. What fearful 
 spells might she not weave around him by thus doing her 
 will ? He ascended a short distance, and turned to look 
 behind him. A scene of more complete solitude, having 
 all its peculiarities heightened by the serenity of the wea 
 ther, the quiet composure of the atmosphere, and the per 
 fect stillness of the elements, could hardly be imagined. 
 He could descry nothing of the scenes he had left, save 
 the valley beneath him, and the spire of the village church 
 in the distance. Should he return home or proceed ? He 
 remembered his promise to Miss Ellet, and again applied 
 himself to continue his ascent. He drew near the ominous 
 S pot climbed a few steps higher touched the rock, and 
 placed the basket upon its base. 
 
 Slowly and gradually appeared the form of the Lady of 
 the Mist. It was not without something like alarm that 
 Stanley beheld this mysterious being standing close beside 
 him. She had been about to speak, but seeing the boy, 
 cast her beautiful azure eyes on him with a look of surprise, 
 exchanged the basket for another, and, with a pensive smile, 
 disappeared from his view. 
 
 Had all the spells he had dreaded in his approach to the 
 spot been concentrated in that look and smile, the change 
 in the feelings of young Stanley could not have been more 
 instantaneous. Surprise succeeded to his former supersti 
 tious sentiments of awe, for he had discovered that the 
 Lady of the Mist was no vague embodiment as he had 
 deemed, but a gentle shape of human flesh and blood. 
 "Where or how she had vanished, however, was still a mys-
 
 JL>: tamo. 
 
 da j of great
 
 i - : : 
 
 of exc 
 
 tie Tillage of L-. in 
 nek. 
 
 Mr. IQhMre, t vtmm she fcai 
 
 .5 xn&tiber. the mflBemace of 
 and Dale in tike village, Vhere they tek 
 ^ AoiralMdeftr a 
 
 agamK 
 
 t aH taes armed, and 
 
 A : - ' ~ ; - 
 
 :: ::., 
 \: ;:-^T.. : .:. 
 a j. .-.:- :
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 of the savages, and give the word of warning to those 
 engaged within. In this way, as the situation of the village 
 was in itself strong, owing to the hills that surrounded it, 
 the inhabitants trusted that they were fully prepared to 
 resist any sudden attack. 
 
 Things were in this state when, on a certain day, the 
 morning beams had shone on the unpretending spire of L. 
 for five or six hours, and the people had assembled in the 
 building beneath as usual. The lengthy prayer with which 
 the Puritans were wont to commence their exercises had 
 concluded, and just as every voice was attuned to the 
 melody of a pious psalm, a loud and unusual noise was 
 heard. 
 
 The worshippers of that humble meeting-house paused 
 to listen, with ears erect and faces filled with boding expec 
 tation. It was the terrific yell of the approaching Indians. 
 This was speedily followed by the appointed signal from 
 the soldiery stationed without, and at the instant that the 
 report of the musketry rang in the air, the congregation 
 started from their seats in terror. Each man rushed for 
 his arms, and, crowding to the doors and windows, found 
 the building completely surrounded by savages. The 
 females, remaining in the interior, shrieked in the extremity 
 of their alarm. 
 
 The scene that followed is not easily described. A fearful 
 struggle, of course, ensued. Heaven, too, at that moment 
 added its terrors to the scene. A furious thunder-storm 
 arose, and amidst the most vivid flashes of lightning, and 
 awful reverberations, the rain began to descend in torrents.
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 231 
 
 The villagers now yielded themselves completely to terror, 
 and, abandoning the conflict, prostrated themselves on their 
 knees, and resorted to prayer. The Indians took fresh 
 courage from this circumstance, and commenced firing the 
 meeting-house. For a little time the rain prevented their 
 efforts from taking effect ; but at length, as the strong army 
 of a battle will rout the less powerful, so did the fiercer ele 
 ment dispel the weaker. 
 
 The fire was finally triumphant, and spouted in jets of 
 flame out at each window of the consuming building, while 
 huge flakes of burning materials went driving on the wind, 
 and rolling a dark canopy of smoke over the neighbour 
 hood. The lurid glow lit up the air, and showed with ter 
 rible distinctness the waving crowd that stood around. 
 The rain, however, prevented the progress of devastation 
 further. But the shouts of the Indians resounded far and 
 wide, as they turned to continue their work of destruction 
 by setting fire to the other dwellings in the village. 
 
 At this crisis, the villagers, as if animated by a sudden 
 and simultaneous impulse, arose from their knees, and be 
 took themselves again to the defensive. Previously, in their 
 resistance, wild confusion, despair, and frenzied efforts had 
 been blended in such a manner as completely to destroy 
 anything like unity of action. But now, in concert, and 
 disposed according to the best military arrangements, they 
 advanced a second time upon these invaders. 
 
 The Indians, in confidence of their approaching triumph, 
 had uttered the whoop of success, which called their war 
 riors from the adjoining vicinity to behold the approaching
 
 232 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 scene. In surprise, therefore, notwithstanding this addi 
 tion to their forces, they found themselves resisted with a 
 power and a skill such as they had never before witnessed. 
 But their previous success had given new spirit to an enemy 
 already sufficiently audacious ; and continuing their war- 
 cries with redoubled ferocity, they pursued the attack. 
 The combat raged for about half an hour, when the Indians 
 were utterly defeated, and betook themselves to flight. 
 
 At that moment the clouds of heaven suddenly opened, 
 shedding the blessed light of the returning sun upon the 
 village ; and it might have been seen that the recent victory 
 had been obtained through the means of a stranger, who 
 had appeared and aroused the people from their panic of 
 fear, assumed the command, arranged and ordered them in 
 the best military manner, and thus enabled them to repel 
 and rout the Indians, and save the village. This person 
 was a man of dignified and majestic bearing, and with an 
 interesting beauty and pallor of countenance. 
 
 The parting clouds had scarcely permitted the gleams 
 of renewed sunshine to fall upon the rescued spot, and the 
 inhabitants began to realize their safety, and look around 
 to return thanks to the skilful and unknown commander 
 to whom the rescue was due, ere it was discovered that he 
 had mysteriously vanished. Awe and amazement filled 
 the minds of the spectators, for they were utterly unable 
 to account for the singular arrival and sudden disappear 
 ance of this remarkable person. After many unsatisfactory 
 conjectures, the only conclusion they could arrive at was, 
 that the Lord had sent an angel to their deliverance.
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 233 
 
 It was on the evening of the day on which this attack 
 took place, that Frank Stanley was proceeding on his 
 second errand to the rock. As he walked on, he pondered 
 deeply upon the discovery he had that morning made. The 
 recent scene of excitement in the village had banished the 
 thoughts of it throughout the day from his mind. But now 
 his curiosity recurred to the subject with all the strength 
 with which that feeling fixes upon a mystery but partially 
 solved. The stranger who had so singularly appeared 
 during the conflict with the Indians, and put them to flight, 
 seemed somehow associated in the boy's mind with the Lady 
 of the Rock, and he could no more join with the villagers 
 in believing the one an angel of the Lord, than he could 
 now in supposing the other an evil spirit. 
 
 The more perplexed the more he reflected, Stanley one 
 moment resolved at all hazards to penetrate the singular 
 mystery, to overcome on his present errand the internal 
 and undefinable feelings which would restrain him from 
 accosting the lady, and offering her any further assistance 
 in his power, and discovering the place of her retreat. Yet 
 to press himself on her confidence might be impertinence, 
 and as she had in the morning disappeared without noticing 
 his presence, it was evident that she did not mean volun 
 tarily to make him her confidant, and probably she was 
 involved in no difficulties where he might be useful. The 
 next instant, therefore, he resolved to suppress all desire 
 to penetrate the secret, dismiss his disquieting and fruitless 
 conjectures, and, without attempting to invade the manner 
 and place of the sudden disappearance of the fair but 
 
 20*
 
 234 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 living vision, await the period when time should throw light 
 upon the subject. 
 
 He was thus divided in his own determinations when he 
 reached the woods at the foot of the hill where his purposed 
 visit lay. At that moment he became startled from his 
 reflections by the rustling of leaves. Remembering the 
 assault from the Indians in the morning, the youth paused, 
 and leaned forward to listen, holding his breath, and con 
 densing every faculty in the single sense of hearing. 
 Silence, however, seemed restored to the disturbed foliage, 
 and reigned as completely as though it had previously been 
 unbroken. The boy pursued his course, supposing the 
 noise he had heard simply to have been occasioned by a 
 sudden gust of wind. But he had not proceeded many 
 steps when the sound was distinctly perceptible of ap 
 proaching voices, speaking in the deep tones of the savages. 
 He turned, and ere many minutes elapsed, the forms of 
 three Indians were visible. "Dog of the pale faces!" was 
 their exclamation, as they rushed upon him. The youth 
 was entirely alone, cheered by no friendly eye, em 
 boldened by no encouraging voice, and so sudden had 
 been the event that his mind was wholly unprepared for 
 the emergency. Yet, perceiving at once his danger, and 
 determined to make one bold effort for his life, he burst 
 from them ere they wre aware of his purpose, and bounded 
 off with the swiftness and alertness of a deer. There was 
 but one breathless moment ; the Indians raised the cry of 
 alarm, and pursued hotly after him. As soon as a favour 
 able instant presented itself, he darted through an opening
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 235 
 
 and ascended the hill. A bullet grazed his clothes, and 
 several branches from the bushes at his side, but not one 
 harmed him. 
 
 Stanley knew too well the nature of the struggle in 
 which he was engaged to lose one of the precious moments. 
 Accordingly, he kept his way up the acclivity, which, 
 though neither very high nor very steep, was yet suffi 
 ciently toilsome to one contending for life to render it 
 painfully oppressive. There, however, he was obliged to 
 slacken his speed to recover breath. The violence with 
 which his heart beat showed how great had been his exer 
 tions. He must proceed again, however, for the footsteps 
 of his pursuers were near. 
 
 He started off a second time, but his strength was ex 
 hausted, and ere he had gained the summit of the second 
 hill, he fell prostrate upon the ground. He rose, proceeded 
 again for a few moments at his former swift pace. By 
 degrees this slackened the Indians were within a few 
 yards of him. He had a loaded pistol in his pocket but 
 he knew it could only destroy one of his enemies, and there 
 would still remain two to contend with. Generously, 
 therefore, he refrained from using it, and prepared to 
 resign himself into their hands, and yielded himself up a 
 prisoner with a dignity that was remarkable for his years. 
 
 Dragging him to a glen which intervened between the 
 two hills, they bound him tightly, and then turned appa 
 rently to make some consultations respecting the manner of 
 his fate. The prospect of death is terrible at every period 
 of life ; but in the first spring-tide of youth, with all the
 
 236 TEUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 capacities of pleasure astir and eager for gratification, to 
 be forcibly snatched from the untasted banquet is pecu 
 liarly -trying, even when the change comes in the form of 
 a natural death-bed. But to sit, like young Stanley, in 
 horrid uncertainty in regard to the mode in which life was 
 to be extinguished, was a situation to break the boldest 
 spirit ; and the unhappy captive could not restrain the 
 tears which flowed from his eyes. We have seen that al 
 though he was a brave youth in any danger which could 
 be met by action, yet withal, he was strongly imaginative 
 and apt to be led away by the exaggerations of fancy 
 exaggerations likely to act more or less upon the soul of 
 any one who is in suspense and passively awaiting an ap 
 proaching calamity. This agony of mind continued until 
 the feelings of the youth arose almost to a state of frenzy. 
 He started up, and struggled so violently to become freed 
 from his bonds, that it almost seemed that they should 
 have burst by the force of his strength, as did the withes 
 of Samson. But the cords were of too firm a texture, 
 and, after an unavailing struggle, the boy fell back ex 
 hausted. 
 
 The Indians were evidently now preparing some torture, 
 which would put the sufferer to severe bodily anguish. As 
 Stanley lay and looked on, overcome with his late violent 
 exertions, the scene swam before him. At this instant he 
 became aware of an interruption to the preparations of the 
 savages, and had just time to recognise the mysterious 
 stranger of the morning, to whom the preservation of his 
 native village was due, and behold him fall upon the enemy, 
 when he became insensible.
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 237 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Can no rost find me, no private place secure me 
 But still my miseries like bloodhounds haunt me? 
 Unfortunate young man, which way now guides thee, 
 Guide thee from death ? the country's laid around for thee." 
 
 WOMEN PLEASED. 
 
 " Did I but purpose to embark with thee 
 On a smooth surface of a summer sea, 
 And would forsake the skiff and make the shore 
 When the winds whistle, and the tempests roar?" 
 
 PRIOR. 
 
 "A hopeless darkness settles o'er my fate 
 I've seen the last look of her heavenly eyes; 
 I've heard the last sound of her blessed voice 
 I've seen the fair form my sight depart 
 My doom is closed." 
 
 COUNT BASIL. 
 
 WHEN young Stanley first returned to consciousness, he 
 found himself in a place whose shaded artificial light 
 seemed very grateful to his eyes, aching as they were in 
 sympathy with his throbbing brain : without arousing him 
 self sufficiently to consider the nature of his situation, 
 further than to know that his limbs were free, and that he 
 was lying upon a comfortable bed, he fell into a heavy and 
 unnatural slumber. During this lethargy, which lasted 
 many hours, sudden starts, the perspiration which stood 
 upon his brow, the distortions of his countenance, and the 
 manner in which he flung about his limbs, showed that in 
 his dreams, he was again encountering the terrors from
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 which he had escaped. This lasted for several hours, but 
 at length fatigue prevailed over nervous excitation, and he 
 relapsed into a soft, untroubled repose. 
 
 After some time, he sighed, stirred and awoke. On 
 looking round, he found himself in a place surrounded by 
 walls of stone, with an opening on one side, blockaded by 
 a piece of rock, and leaving a single crevice through which 
 a faint ray of daylight fell. The floor and ceiling of earth 
 showed that it was under ground; yet it contained various 
 articles of rude furniture, and the moss bed on which he 
 lay was soft and pliable under his weight. The brands of 
 a falling fire had been carefully raked together in one 
 corner, and were buraing with a feeble and wavering 
 flame, which cast faint, flickering shadows upon the dark 
 walls. 
 
 Continuing his inspection more closely, the boy saw the 
 figure of an aged man, seated upon a stone, bending over 
 the pages of a large Bible which lay open upon his knee. 
 His countenance was majestic and dignified. His brow 
 had a care-worn and anxious expression, yet withal an air 
 of calm resignation inexpressibly sublime. His locks were 
 almost completely white, though his dark and intelligent 
 eye still retained much of the fire of early youth, while the 
 hale cheek and undaunted presence indicated patience and 
 content in the greatest suffering that can befall humanity. 
 
 Stanley neither spoke nor moved ; but remained with his 
 eyes riveted on the attractive countenance before him with 
 a species of holy awe. As he gazed, the old man arose, 
 kneeled, and poured out the aspirations of a pure spirit in
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 239 
 
 fervent petitions to that Power whose support he evidently 
 needed. 
 
 While he was yet praying, a manly form entered at the 
 opening of the cavern. The stranger wore a military 
 cloak. He stood in the shadow until the aged man had 
 ceased and risen, then dropped his cloak and approached 
 the latter, and Stanley knew him for the mysterious de 
 liverer of the village, and the person whom he had seen 
 when he lay bound by the Indians, to fall upon them, and 
 effect, he felt certain, the preservation he had experienced. 
 He was a specimen of manly beauty; and the proud and 
 lofty forehead, the deep-set brow and eyes, the expressive 
 lip, addressed themselves to the interest of the youth. 
 
 Overcome with surprise, the boy still remained immo 
 vable, and the old man addressed the stranger. "Has 
 she not yet arrived? the sun is high it must be noon- 
 day." 
 
 "It is reason enough for her detention," replied the 
 other, in a half-impatient voice, the tones of which were 
 deep and clear, "that I have gone forth to meet her. All 
 objects that I seek elude my pursuit : there is a curse upon 
 my every pathway." 
 
 " Give not way to repinings, my son ; turn thine eyes 
 upon the blessings that remain to thee, which far exceeds 
 the deserts of the best of men." 
 
 "Talk not to me of blessings, my father," replied the 
 other. " If there crawls upon the earth a living being 
 deserving of pity, I am that man. My food no longer 
 nourishes me, my sleep fails to refresh me, my devotions do
 
 240 TKUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 not comfort me all that is necessary and cheering to me 
 has turned to poison. Vegetating on the same spot, fancy, 
 feeling, judgment, and health gradually decaying, like a 
 tree whose bark has been destroyed I have been a man 
 more sinned against than sinning. 
 
 "He who is immured in a living grave like this," he 
 continued, after an instant's pause, "may well wish for 
 one yet more calm and sequestered. Let us go forth, and 
 challenge the death that awaits us. Hunted by blood 
 hounds, our fate is doomed. Bather, then, let it come at 
 once than hold us longer in this state of misery." 
 
 "William," said the old man, "wouldst thou rashly 
 cast away the boon of life that God has given thee ? Canst 
 thou be fated to death simply because the word of a vindic 
 tive king has gone forth against thee ? Nay, my son, let 
 us abide the Lord's time, and endure here unto the end, 
 that we may obtain a crown of rejoicing hereafter. And," 
 he added, while a tear dimmed his eye, " would you leave 
 Alice and your child ? 
 
 "William," pursued the aged man, "you forbade me 
 but now to tell you of blessings. But, surely, thou art 
 strangely unthankful for thine even for the incalculable 
 blessing that thou hast in that noble-minded woman. Hath 
 she not accompanied us hither, and cheered and sustained 
 us with her angel presence ?" 
 
 "My father, drive me not to frenzy," exclaimed the 
 other. " You have struck the chord which another touch 
 would break. It is the sight of her, dearer to me than life 
 itself immured in this ghostly hiding-place, and day by
 
 THE LADY OF THE HOCK. 241 
 
 day, growing thin and waxing pale, and smiling in the 
 midst of misery, that is more than I can bear. And it is 
 I who have brought this evil upon her. But for me, she 
 might now have been blooming in increasing beauty in 
 some brilliant destiny beyond the seas. Never were the 
 bright prospects of opening life more cruelly dashed. And 
 can she, frail as she is, much longer sustain the effort by 
 which she has met this stroke of fortune ? Will not the 
 reaction, when it comes, be too terrible to be borne? Oh, 
 God, the thought of her is agony!" and he covered his face 
 with his hands. 
 
 A female form entered. She advanced into the cave, 
 and, throwing off a cloak and hood, Stanley recognised the 
 mysterious Lady of the Rock. For a second she regarded 
 the younger of the two without speaking. "My dearest 
 William," said she, at length, as drawing close to him, she 
 laid her hand in a sympathetic manner on his arm, " why 
 do you yield thus to grief?" 
 
 As if her touch and voice were magic, the unhappy exile 
 raised his head to meet her glance. "I grieve for you, my 
 Alice," he replied, after gazing on her anxiously for some 
 moments, and throwing his arm around her passionately, 
 " to see you bereft of all the appliances of comfort, and to 
 behold your noble spirit display its courage in mild sub 
 mission and generous efforts to support the hearts of 
 others. How cruel doth the decree of Fate seem that you, 
 so pure, so gentle, so lovely, should be visited thus heavily." 
 Unable to endure his own thoughts, he broke abruptly 
 away from her, and paced heavily up and doAvn the cave. 
 
 21
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 "My dear husband," she said, approaching him, and 
 looking in his face ; " do not think of my lot. Believe 
 me, it would have been but too happy if it could have alle 
 viated the bitterness of yours, or soothed one sorrow of 
 my father's heart. Come hither, my parent, I have news 
 of encouragement for you both. There is reason to trust 
 that our troubles will be but short-lived. Our friends have 
 great confidence in the eifect of a personal appeal from me 
 to Charles II. Nay, look not thus distressed, my father ; 
 it is for your sakes that I leave those who are dearer to 
 me than life itself. I will present myself at the throne of 
 the king, and petition him for your pardon : and Heaven 
 grant that if we meet again on earth, it may be in circum 
 stances of peace and safety." 
 
 "Alice, thou shalt not leave us!" exclaimed Heath. 
 " Death were far preferable to life in this gloomy cavern 
 uncheered by your presence. I will go forth and yield 
 myself up to my pursuers, if thou talkest again of thine 
 absence." 
 
 " Nay, William, I shall not leave you in this place. 
 The marriage of Lucy Ellet will occur to-night, and Mr. 
 Elmore has kindly offered you both an asylum in his house 
 until my return, or for the remainder of your lives, should 
 it be necessary. The remote and secluded nature of the 
 spot will withdraw you from the intrusions of impertinent 
 curiosity." 
 
 At that instant the voices of men were heard without 
 the cavern, and a fearful suspicion dawned suddenly on 
 the minds of all present.
 
 THE LADY OF THE EOCK. 243 
 
 " Oh, God !" exclaimed young Stanley, starting from 
 his couch, "your pursuers are seeking you: keep a pro 
 found silence, or your voices will betray you." 
 
 "Let them find us," said Heath aloud. "I am weary 
 of eluding them, and am glad my hour is arrived." 
 
 "William, dear William, be silent," whispered the lady, 
 bending toward him with a look of unspeakable terror, 
 as a deep flush mantled the cheek that a moment back 
 was so pale. 
 
 "Alice, I tell you it is useless " 
 
 "Hush, love, for my sake, for your child's sake," urged 
 the lady in his ear, as her countenance became agonized. 
 
 The voices without now grew so audible that words 
 could be distinguished. The old man clasped his hands 
 in resignation, and his half-parted lips murmured, " The 
 Lord's will be done !" Alice threw one arm around the 
 neck of her husband, with a gesture of unutterable love, as 
 though she would shield him, and placed the other hand 
 on his mouth, while she trembled in every limb. 
 
 " The entrance of their asylum is well hidden," said one 
 of the voices. " It will be a day's work to discover it." 
 
 "Let us spend the day at it then," replied the other 
 speaker, in a gruffer and harsher tone. " We will not 
 give up the search until we find it." 
 
 And they seemed approaching the mouth of the cavern. 
 A moment of intense and breathless anxiety to the inmates 
 elapsed. They stood still and silent as the rocks around 
 them, suspending every, even the slightest external motion, 
 and would have ceased to breathe, had nature permitted
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 such an intermission of her functions. More torturing 
 their suspense than the long, lingering seconds in which a 
 duellist beholds his adversary's pistol wavering over his 
 heart or brain. Their discovery seemed inevitable. In a 
 few minutes, however, those outside passed on, and after a 
 short time their voices grew fainter and fainter, until they 
 were lost in the distance. 
 
 " Seize the opportunity of escape ere their return," said 
 Alice, breaking the death-like stillness that had been pre 
 served. " Quick, father ! William ! the moments fly. Make 
 your way toward the house of Mr. Elmore. I will linger 
 here to baffle the inquiries of your pursuers." 
 
 " Come, my son," said the old man, rising with a sudden 
 energy. " The Lord has opened another door of salvation 
 for us. Dost thou hear ?" 
 
 "Nay, I will not again fly for my wretched life," said 
 Heath. " I will passively await my fate." 
 
 "William! William !" exclaimed his wife, in an agony of 
 heartfelt urgency and sweetness, " I pray you, by what 
 ever is dear in our past association together by all the 
 claims, I will not say of the continued love you but this 
 day professed for me, but by those of an affection on my 
 part which would endure all things for your sake to use 
 the proper means for your preservation. Depart without 
 delay;" and an expression of unanswerable entreaty 
 beamed in the eye of the suppliant. 
 
 " I will do aught that you ask, beloved one, even to the 
 prolonging of my life of wretchedness," rejoined her hus 
 band, as he imprinted a kiss on her brow, and drew her 
 with him toward the door of the cave.
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 245 
 
 "Let me be your guide," said Stanley, advancing and 
 addressing Heath. "It will be some small return for the 
 service you have rendered me." 
 
 "I had almost forgotten, in my affliction, to see to you, 
 kind youth. But you have slept long, and appear to be 
 recovered." 
 
 "Thanks to you, sir, I am living and well," answered 
 the boy. " But time grows apace. Will you accept my 
 services?" 
 
 " Nay, I am acquainted with the whole neighbourhood. 
 You will do me a greater favour to remain with this de 
 serted lady, and see her safe in the hands of friends." 
 
 With a countenance of perfect calmness, the heroic wife 
 and daughter endeavoured to hasten the moment of sepa 
 ration. 
 
 "Farewell!" she said, casting her arms around the old 
 man, while a smile was on her lips. " Farewell ! we may 
 be parted for years, perhaps for ever," and she made a 
 violent effort to repress her distress. "Bless me and for 
 give me, my parent, ere you depart." 
 
 " Thou hast, thou hast my blessing, my suffering dove ; 
 and for my pardon, how canst thou ask it, who hast never 
 done me an offence since God made me parent to so noble 
 a child ? May the Lord be to thee a rock of shelter and a 
 path of deliverance from affliction." 
 
 The old man here turned away, and began to descend 
 the hill. 
 
 "You must not linger longer, William," said the lady, 
 turning to her husband, who stood with his eyes fixed upon 
 
 21*
 
 246 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 her face. " Farewell ! our fortunes look dark, it is true, 
 but mayhap the same bright morning will yet dawn for us. 
 And if not, we are not still denied the glorious hope that 
 in the darkest moments of separation clings to humanity 
 the anticipation of reunion in the future." 
 
 "Farewell!" said Heath, folding her in a long embrace 
 to his heart, while his cheek trembled, and a tear dimmed 
 his manly eye. " My beloved wife, farewell ! my Alice, 
 my own one, adieu!" And drawing his cap over his brow, 
 and tightening the folds of the cloak he had resumed, he 
 broke away, and followed his aged companion. 
 
 The lady watched the fugitives until they were out of 
 sight, and Stanley remained by her side silent, judging it 
 best not to disturb her feelings at the moment with any 
 ill-timed remark. 
 
 While they stood, he had time to examine the entrance 
 to the cavern, which had eluded his discovery so com 
 pletely on his former visits to the rock. Nothing could 
 be more concealed than its entrance. The opening, ex 
 tremely small, lay in the face of the cliffs, directly behind 
 a large gray rock, or rather upright stone, which served 
 at once to conceal it from strangers, and as a mark to 
 point out its situation to those who employed it as a place 
 of retreat. The space between the stone and cliffs was 
 very narrow, and might easily escape not only ordinary 
 observation, but the minute search of a mind not perse- 
 veringly active. The boy did not marvel, when he per 
 ceived its secret position, that it had previously been 
 unnoticed by him : for it might have eluded the attention
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 247 
 
 of those who had stood at its very opening. As he was 
 still engaged in admiring its security, the lady turned and 
 said to him, " Let us return within till I make the neces 
 sary preparation for my departure." 
 
 " I leave this spot," said she, as they entered, "endeared 
 by many sad associations, never to return to it again." 
 
 "You are likely to leave it in a way you do not 
 imagine," said a man, springing in at the opening. He 
 was speedily followed by another, and they both stood 
 within the cave. 
 
 "How is this?" said the latter, looking surprised and 
 disappointed "a woman and a boy." 
 
 Alice turned, at first much startled ; but when a moment 
 was past, she prepared herself to receive the intruders 
 with the perfect confidence which a woman never fails to 
 feel in the mildness and reason of a man, however rude. 
 Moreover, having nothing to fear for her husband and 
 father, she found little difficulty in retaining her self- 
 possession, supported by her inherent dignity. 
 
 One of them, who was distinguished from his companion 
 by much superiority of mien, lifting his hat respectfully, 
 addressed her : " It is unpleasant to question a woman, 
 especially one of your appearance ; but, madam, where are 
 your companions?" 
 
 "I am unable to inform you," said Alice modestly; 
 "yet I must say that in my present situation I could have 
 wished to be spared the pain of confessing my ignorance." 
 
 The harsh features of the elder contracted into their 
 sternest look, and it was evident how much he was dis-
 
 248 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 turbed by the cool manner of her reply. Alice gazed at 
 his lowering features for a moment in perfect composure, 
 as if she had nought to fear from his intentions. 
 
 "Perhaps you can give us the information we desire?" 
 said he, turning to Stanley. 
 
 " Like this lady, I must confess my ignorance of their 
 whereabouts, if you allude to Messrs. Lisle and Heath." 
 
 " Pardon us, fair lady of this grotto," replied the 
 younger cavalier, "but we will be obliged to search its 
 inmost recesses." 
 
 " True, perhaps they are here, and this coolness may be 
 assumed," said the other: "let us proceed to make a 
 thorough investigation." 
 
 "I will vacate the premises for you, gentlemen," said 
 Alice, drawing her arm through Stanley's, and leaving the 
 cave. After which, at a slow pace, they proceeded together 
 toward the village. 
 
 , , .,-.-.. .. ( 

 
 THE LADY OF THE HOCK. 249 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 "Bring flowers, fresh flowers, for the bride to wear! 
 They were born to blush in her shining hair: 
 She is leaving the home of her childhood's mirth, 
 She hath bid farewell to her father's hearth ; 
 Her place is now by another's side; 
 Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride!" 
 
 MBS. IIEMANS. 
 
 A CALM and cloudless evening followed the exciting 
 morning which had been experienced in L. The fairest 
 moon of May shone above the ruined meeting-house, which 
 lay in blackened rubbish upon the ground. Her soft light 
 lit up the white dwellings and shrubbery of the village 
 with a holy beauty, until they stood out in bold relief 
 against the surrounding hills, which, in like manner, stood 
 out in similar relief against a sky sparkling with myriads 
 of stars. The herbage sent up its sweetest fragrance, and 
 the air was balmy and delicious. In short, the earth and 
 sky seemed wedded in harmony, and formed a fitting em 
 blem of the marriage tie about to be celebrated. 
 
 The laws regulating wedlock in the colonies were suited 
 to the infant state of society, and threw but few obstacles 
 in the way of the connexion. Agreeably with this banish 
 ment of all unnecessary form, it was not usual to celebrate 
 their nuptials in places of public worship. 
 
 This was peculiarly fortunate in the case of Lucy Ellet,
 
 250 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 whose marriage having been fixed for this evening, would 
 have had to be deferred, had it been the expectation to 
 celebrate it in the village meeting-house. The arrange 
 ments, however, had been made for the performance of the 
 ceremony in the house of her uncle, and the unpleasant 
 affair of the morning was not permitted to retard a matter 
 of such vitality. Lucy's nerves, too, being of that firm 
 kind which no shock could shatter or disturb beyond the 
 passing moment, there was no necessity for deferring the 
 period. 
 
 The hospitalities of her uncle's house were thrown open 
 to the villagers not, it is true, by great displays, such as 
 grace nuptial feasts at the present day, but by means of 
 that unpretending welcome and abundance of cheer, which 
 appeals at once to the heart and appetite of the guest. The 
 best parlour was graced with vases of the freshest spring 
 flowers, and tasteful green branches interwoven with white 
 roses the whole answering to the idea of a fitting place 
 for a marriage scene. 
 
 The gate leading to Governor H.'s house was besieged 
 by vehicles of almost every shape and description. The 
 company had assembled about eight o'clock, and were 
 awaiting the entrance of the bridal train, when their atten 
 tion was diverted by the appearance of Jessy Ellet, the 
 young sister of the bride, holding by the hand of a lady, 
 who, from the fact that she was a stranger, as well as from 
 something striking in her aspect, elicited an unusual degree 
 of notice. Care, more than time, had made inroads upon 
 a face still exquisitely lovely ; and the extreme simplicity
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 251 
 
 of her attire served to adorn the melancholy and touching 
 beauty of her countenance. There was something elevated 
 in the sadness of her expression, as though her hopes lay 
 scarce any longer upon earth, but were removed into a 
 scene where disappointment and sorrow could never come. 
 But withal there was occasionally a lustre in her eye, and 
 a beaming smile upon her lip, that proved her capable of 
 the deepest and strongest earthly attachments. 
 
 This was evinced in her manner toward the child, upon 
 whom she frequently bestowed these momentary marks of 
 affection. Retiring to a distant part of the room, it was 
 evident that she sought to escape observation. Curiosity, 
 however, had been excited, and every eye remained fixed 
 upon her. As she seated herself, and the little Jessy clung 
 to her, and looked up into her face, to make some childish 
 sally, a strange resemblance became perceptible between 
 the two. Upon the brow of each there was the same mild 
 and placid expression ; the same azure eyes, and the iden 
 tical peculiar smile, changing the expression of the whole 
 countenance. 
 
 The bustle attending the arrival of the guests had sub 
 sided, and the minister, with his features settled into a 
 suitable degree of solemnity, stood waiting with becoming 
 dignity the entrance of those upon whom he was to pro 
 nounce the nuptial benediction. The door opened, and a 
 group moved slowly forward. Lucy was in front, leaning 
 on the arm which Henry Elmore had given her as much 
 for her support as from motives of courtesy. She appeared 
 attired in a manner suitable to the simplicity as well as the
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 importance of the ceremony. A dress of simple white con 
 cealed by its folds the graceful proportions of her slender 
 form. Under it was a vest cut in the fashion of that period, 
 in such a manner as to give the exact outline of her shape. 
 A few orange blossoms were carelessly entwined in the 
 raven braids of her hair, showing more spotlessly by the 
 contrast. 
 
 As they drew near to the expecting clergyman, Lucy's 
 step, which had been slightly unsteady, grew firmer. 
 Although she exhibited the least composure of the two, 
 yet she showed the most intentness on the solemnity before 
 them, and raising her eyes toward the clergyman, she kept 
 them fixed on him throughout the ceremony with sweet and 
 earnest attention. 
 
 In a moment, the low solemn tones of the minister were 
 heard. As he delivered the usual opening homily, he 
 paused frequently and long, giving to each injunction a 
 distinct and marked emphasis. After performing the cere 
 mony, when he came to the closing words, " what God hath 
 joined together, let not man put asunder," he lifted his voice 
 as though he were addressing the guests ; and when the 
 blessing was pronounced, for a few moments not a sound 
 was heard in the room. The minister advanced first, and 
 congratulated the pair, followed by the guests, who also 
 approached and made their compliments. 
 
 The enjoyments of the Puritans were of a very quiet 
 nature. They neither jested, heard music, nor drank 
 healths, and yet they seemed not the less to enjoy them 
 selves. Political leanings had not then contributed their
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 253 
 
 bitterness to private life ; but religion being the chief topic 
 of their thoughts, became also the principal subject of their 
 conversation. 
 
 Throughout the evening, therefore, metaphysical and doc 
 trinal subjects were discussed, creeds and sects compared, 
 and their own views fortified by Bible authority among the 
 elder gentlemen ; the merits of different preachers balanced 
 by the more advanced ladies ; while the young people of 
 both sexes, without entering into the discussion of subjects 
 of that nature, yet tempered their remarks on more ordi 
 nary matters by many a scriptural phrase and pious ex 
 pression. 
 
 A tone of cheerfulness, however, prevailed over all, except 
 when an eye occasionally rested on the stranger lady, of 
 whose melancholy look the faintest token of liveliness 
 seemed a mockery. This lady was not introduced to any 
 of the company, but remained throughout the evening in 
 the recess she had first chosen. She kept the hand of the 
 fair child, who seemed fascinated by her presence, and con 
 tinued riveted to her side. Every kindness and attention 
 was paid her by her hosts. Frequently Governor H. and 
 his wife approached her and conversed ; and the bride at 
 one time during the evening remained seated with her more 
 than an hour. Several persons made attempts to satisfy 
 the curiosity her presence and appearance excited, by ques 
 tioning those whom they had seen speaking with her. But 
 their queries were evaded, and they obtained little or no 
 satisfaction. For several days succeeding she continued to 
 form a subject of much gossip and surmise. Not afterward, 
 
 22
 
 254 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 however, being seen in L., her existence was soon for 
 gotten. 
 
 A table, groaning with every variety of excellent cheer, 
 and in the greatest abundance, was provided for the com 
 pany. Fish, flesh, and fowl, cake of all kinds, and sweet 
 meats in profusion, graced the board. Nothing was wanting 
 that trouble and good housewifery could supply. This 
 repast was partaken of at an early hour, and the company 
 returned to their homes.
 
 THE LADY OF THE*ROCK. 255 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 "I, that please some, try all; both joy^nd terror 
 Of good and bad; that make and unfold error 
 Now take upon me in the name of Time 
 To use my wings. Impute it not a crime 
 To me or my swift passage that I slide 
 O'er sixteen years, and leave the ground untried 
 Of that wide gap." 
 
 WINTEB'S TALE. 
 
 THE course of our narrative obliges us to pass over six 
 teen years ere we again introduce its characters to our 
 readers. To those of them who may happen to have lived 
 nearly twice that period, the interval will not appear long. 
 
 Lucy Ellet had removed on the day following her mar 
 riage to the house of Henry Elmore, situated about five 
 miles distant from New Haven. It was a cheerful country 
 residence, fitted up with much neatness. Around it lay a 
 perfect wilderness of flower-gardens, amid which a refined 
 taste had caused to be erected little summer-houses, which 
 afforded points of view over the distant bay of New Haven. 
 Attached to these grounds was a large farm, over which 
 Lucy soon learned to preside with much matronly grace 
 and dignity. The house itself had been originally small ; 
 but shortly after the marriage of the owner, it had been 
 enlarged by the addition of a wing at the back part. This 
 was not exactly adjoining the main building, but connected
 
 256 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 with it by a corridor. With regard to the purpose for 
 which it had been added, nothing was known in the neigh 
 bourhood with any certainty. Many stories had been cir 
 culated concerning its object, and a belief had at length 
 become current that it was haunted by spirits. There were 
 those, indeed, who stated that they had beheld through the 
 ' opening of a curtain at the window, a strangely emaciated 
 face, with sunken e5%s of an unnatural lustre, and a look 
 that was not of earth. 
 
 The mystery that was attached to this portion of the 
 building, and the tales that were circulated in relation to 
 it together with the former reports that had attached to 
 Lucy Ellet and her young sister rendered its inmates 
 avoided and unpopular throughout the neighbourhood. No 
 distress or mortification, however, seemed to be felt at this 
 circumstance by Henry Elmore and his wife, who showed 
 no disposition for the society of their neighbours, and who 
 no more exchanged visits with any other persons than 
 Governor H. and his wife (who still resided in L.), visits 
 which were mutually given and rendered as often as the 
 distance that intervened between their homes allowed. 
 
 Jessy Ellet, now grown to womanhood, resided with her 
 sister. She had retained the exceeding beauty of her 
 childhood, but exhibited what appeared a wildness of cha 
 racter to those who were incapable of understanding the 
 superiority of her nature. She possessed a certain elevated 
 independence, and ardent feelings, forming a character that 
 few could love, and still fewer could understand. With the 
 enthusiastic feelings we have described, the love of natural
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 257 
 
 objects was to her a passion capable not only of occupying, 
 but at times of agitating her mind. Scenes upon which 
 her sister looked with a sense of tranquil awe or emotion, 
 and the recollection of which became speedily dissipated, 
 continued long to haunt the memory of Jessy, in moments 
 of solitude and the silence of the night. Although she had 
 no selfish pride or vanity, yet there was an air of superiority 
 in her every gesture, which, taken in connexion with the 
 other traits we have mentioned, contributed to gain her the 
 character of the eccentric young lady. There was, how 
 ever, a life and animation in her gaiety, a fascination in 
 her manners and expression, whether of language or coun 
 tenance, a touchingness also in her purity of thought, 
 which, in conversation with the very few persons with 
 whom she associated intimately, gave her society a charm. 
 The parlour of Lucy Elmore's house was a neat and com 
 fortable apartment. All its arrangements bespoke the skill 
 of a refined female genius which genius was, in fact, her 
 tasteful and fastidious sister. It was Jessy who had, on 
 this dark autumn- day, caused the sofa to be wheeled out 
 opposite the fire ; she it was who had, a few weeks previous, 
 directed the graceful looping of the dimity and silk curtains 
 in the windows. The inventive mind of the same guardian 
 divinity had likewise anticipated the more modern fashion 
 of the centre or sofa-table, and induced her to keep a piece 
 of furniture of that description constantly replenished with 
 various new specimens of literature and art. The gera 
 niums and other house-plants in the windows owed their 
 flourishing condition to her training hand ; and many other 
 
 22*
 
 258 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 little accessories to the tout ensemble of the room, giving 
 it an air of exceeding home elegance and comfort felt 
 rather than perceived were the results of her care. 
 
 It was the evening. Henry Elmore was in his little 
 study, and his wife had taken a book in her hand, and retired 
 to the mysterious wing of the house where her sister knew 
 she always spent an hour every morning and evening, 
 though for what purpose she had never inquired, perceiving 
 that Lucy desired the object of these visits to be secret. 
 
 Jessy was seated alone in the parlour we have described. 
 She had drawn near the table, and, bending over a volume 
 of poetry which lay open before her, one fair hand was 
 engaged in playing with the ringlets of her hair, and the 
 other lay upon the classic page. The fire had given a slight 
 flush to her cheeks, usually perhaps a shade too pale, and, 
 as she sat thus, it would have been difficult to imagine a 
 more beautiful object. Sea and land might have been 
 searched, and they would have produced nothing half so 
 interesting, or half so lovely. 
 
 A slight knock at the door interrupted her reading, and 
 a young man of polished manners and handsome exterior 
 presented himself. The new-comer was about five-and- 
 twenty, in a military undress, and bearing in his manner 
 and looks a good deal of the martial profession. Notwith 
 standing the great change which the lapse from youth to 
 manhood makes in his sex, it would not have been difficult 
 for any who had known him in the former period, to trace 
 in the countenance of the visiter the lineaments of his boy 
 hood. There was the same brow, surmounted by its chest-
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 259 
 
 nut curls the latter, it may be, a shade darker and a fold 
 thicker ; there was the same hazel eye, with its peculiarly 
 thoughtful expression, and a lip which ha.d preserved the 
 native frankness of its smile. In short, the person enter 
 ing was but, reader, we will not anticipate Jessy Ellet in 
 calling him by name. 
 
 She seemed slightly startled on recognising him, but 
 rose with a blush and extended her hand. No hue of 
 rising or setting day was ever so lovely in the eyes of the 
 young man, as that blush was in his recollection, nor ever 
 did enthusiastic visionary or poetic dreamer discover so 
 many fanciful forms in the clouds. 
 
 He advanced and took her offered hand, with more of 
 tenderness and courtesy in his manner, for lie held it a 
 moment ere he resigned it. 
 
 Some little time had elapsed, in a few commonplace re 
 marks, when the gentleman drew his chair close to Jessy's 
 side. "Miss Ellet," said he, "I have come this evening 
 emboldened to pour into your ear the story of a long and 
 devoted attachment." 
 
 " Mr. Stanley," interrupted the lady, blushing deeply, 
 while the small hand which lay upon the edge of the table 
 might have been seen slightly to tremble, " I cannot allow 
 you to place yourself at the disadvantage of uttering any 
 thing you might regret, when you become better acquaint 
 ed with what I must have to reply in regard to any decla 
 ration of this kind." 
 
 " Do not, I beseech you, Miss Ellet, say aught to dash 
 my dearest earthly hopes. I had flattered myself "
 
 260 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 "I know what you would say," rejoined the young 
 lady, again interrupting him. " You mean that you had 
 hoped " and she hesitated an instant, "that you were 
 not altogether indifferent to me. But what avails it whe 
 ther or no this be the case, when I have that to reveal to 
 you which may make you instantly withdraw your prof 
 fered affection?" 
 
 "No revelation that you could make would have the 
 power to effect a change in the feelings of one who has 
 known you so well." 
 
 " Nay, wait until you hear what I have to tell. Know, 
 then, I am not what I appear." 
 
 "Your language is enigmatical," said her lover, looking 
 at her bewildered ; " but if it were possible for any human 
 being to surpass in internal graces the loveliest outside, in 
 that way I can believe that there is truth in your words." 
 
 "I thank you for the compliment," said Jessy, smiling 
 in acknowledgment. " But it is not in regard to my per 
 sonal graces, either external or internal for I have too 
 much vanity, I assure you, to suppose that there is aught 
 that can be said in disparagement of either but in regard 
 to my outward position I speak. I pass for the niece of 
 Governor H., and the sister of Lucy Elmore. Now I am 
 confident that I am neither." 
 
 " What is it you say ?" said her lover, looking at her in 
 astonishment. 
 
 "Mr. Stanley," continued she, "do you recollect the 
 melancholy-looking lady who was present at Lucy's wed 
 ding ?"
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 261 
 
 " I do," said he, " and can tell you more than you have 
 probably ever known. She was the mysterious Lady of 
 the Rock, and the noble wife of the exiled regicide. I 
 shall never forget her touching beauty, nor the heroic for 
 titude with which she hastened the flight of her husband 
 and father on the day when their hiding-place in the cave 
 was discovered. But what were you going to say of 
 her?" 
 
 " I felt drawn to her by yearnings of a peculiar kind, 
 and a strange sympathy such as I have never known before 
 or since for any human being. At parting with me, she 
 dropped no tear on my face, but pressing me to her heart 
 with a lengthened and agonized caress, whispered these 
 words in my ears, ' My daughter, remember your mother !' 
 Mr. Stanley," she continued, looking at him steadily, "do 
 you see no singular resemblance in me to that strange 
 lady? Methinks I can behold a marvellous likeness." 
 
 As she spoke, a curious similarity in the beloved being 
 before him to that unhappy lady, whose image was im 
 pressed upon his memory, struck him in the most forcible 
 manner, thrilling him in addition to Jessy's words with 
 the suspicion they suggested. 
 
 " She was my mother," continued Miss Ellet. " I know 
 it by an instinct that cannot err. Look, too, how little 
 coincidence of looks, no less than taste, exists between 
 myself and my uncle's family. Lucy, too, although affec 
 tionate and kind, resembles me in nothing. I am a mys 
 terious and lonely being." 
 
 " There may be truth in what you surmise," replied
 
 262 . TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 Stanley, who had been pondering deeply during her last 
 remarks ; " but call not yourself lonely, unless you posi 
 tively decline the companionship of one who desires no 
 higher pleasure in life than to share it with you." 
 
 " You do not shrink from me, then, because I am thus 
 shrouded in mystery." 
 
 "Nay," said he, venturing to take her hand, "nothing 
 that could be either surmised or proven in regard to your 
 parentage, could change the feelings or wishes of my heart 
 toward you. Jessy, I sail in a few days for England, to 
 be absent for six months, and would know my fate from 
 you ere I depart?" 
 
 There was a pause of a few moments of that expressive 
 kind which such an occasion only witnesses, and Stanley 
 gathered from its stillness that he might deem his suit not 
 rejected. 
 
 Some time longer passed, in which the lovers remained 
 alone conversing. Their language was of that kind which 
 none but those who have been in the same situation can 
 properly repeat, and which, therefore, the inexperience of 
 the historian prevents being here repeated. 
 
 At length Lucy made her appearance, not like one who 
 had been dealing with spirits, but full of cheerful interest 
 in those earthly beings whom she encountered. Time had 
 passed lightly over her, and she looked as young and 
 blooming as on the night of her marriage. The remain 
 der of the evening passed pleasantly. Stanley mentioned 
 his intended visit to England, and the conversation turned 
 for awhile upon the mother country. The hour for family
 
 THE LADY OP THE ROCK. 263 
 
 prayers arrived. Henry Elmore read a chapter of the 
 Old Testament in a deep, solemn voice, and, all standing 
 up, he prayed fervently. 
 
 The house being some miles distant from the town of 
 New Haven, the guest was shown to a room above the 
 parlour. 
 
 A cheerful fire burned on the hearth : the bed was cur 
 tained and quilted with white, and everything invited com 
 fort and repose. The occupant, however, was too full of 
 his late happy interview to feel inclined to sleep, and he 
 threw himself into a large easy-chair that stood near the 
 fire. He sat there long, in a deep revery. After other 
 reflections more intimately connected with his blissful 
 emotions, his thoughts reverted to the revelation Jessy had 
 made to him of her suspicions in regard to the Lady of 
 the Rock. His own mind had readily received these sus 
 picions until, in reconsidering them, they amounted almost 
 to a certainty. What, then, had become of the lady, and 
 what was the fate of her companion ? She had announced 
 in his hearing, in the cavern, her intention of going to 
 England for the purpose of endeavouring to obtain their 
 pardon. But she had never returned, nor had he heard 
 her mentioned since the excitement caused by her appear 
 ance at Governor H.'s had subsided. There had been 
 no rumour of the apprehension of the regicides, and it 
 was therefore possible that they still remained hidden. 
 Young Stanley now recalled what he had likewise over 
 heard in the cave, about the exiles having been offered a 
 .home with Mr. Elmore. He had been absent prosecuting
 
 264 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 his studies, when the mysterious wing was attached to the 
 dwelling, and in that way had missed hearing the reports 
 to which it gave rise, or it is possible he might have sur 
 mised differently in regard to it from the ordinary conclu 
 sion. At his return, the gossip had pretty much subsided 
 into a steady avoidance of the family, so that none of the 
 rumours had ever reached him. It was hardly possible, 
 then, he thought, as he had seen or heard nothing of the 
 outcasts, that they could be residing with Mr. Elmore. 
 Jessy, too, had never named any such inmates to him ; 
 nor, this evening, when he had mentioned them in con 
 nexion with the lady for whom she had expressed such in 
 terest, had she evinced a knowledge of their being. They 
 had not, therefore, he concluded, repaired to Mr. El- 
 more's ; whither had they gone ? 
 
 Casting aside his reflections, after a considerable length 
 of time, Stanley rose from his seat and began to prepare 
 for bed. Walking to a window, he beheld a light in what 
 seemed a house or room opposite. It seemed strange to 
 him that there should be any dwelling situated in this 
 manner in regard to the house he was in since it was in 
 the country. He was about to persuade himself that it 
 was merely the reflection of his own room, when he saw 
 standing facing him the aged man of the cave. Convinced 
 now that his own imagination was at work, and had con 
 jured up the likeness of one of those who had just occu 
 pied his thoughts to so great an extent, he turned away, 
 and hastened to court repose.
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 265 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 -" Wrought gems, 
 
 Medallions, rare mosaics, and antiques 
 From Italy, the niches filled." 
 
 " Thine is the power to give, 
 
 Thine to deny, 
 Joy for the hour I live, 
 Calmness to die." 
 
 WILLIS. 
 
 As the object of young Stanley's visit to England has 
 no bearing upon the denouement of this tale, we will not 
 follow his footsteps thither. It is probable, however, that 
 we may meet with him on his return, for we, too, although 
 not in company with him, are about to cross the Atlantic, 
 and bear our reader along with us. 
 
 It is known that when Alice Heath sailed for England, 
 she had strong hopes, from obtaining an interview with 
 Charles II., that she might succeed by her persuasions, in 
 procuring the pardon of her husband and father. These 
 hopes, however, were by no means so strong as she had 
 given the outcasts reason to believe, for it had been clearly 
 represented to her, how difficult she might find it, owing 
 to his bitterness against the murderers of his father. Yet 
 there were those who advised her to the step, on the 
 ground that her chance of success, although, indeed, thus 
 
 23
 
 266 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 slender, was by no means entirely void. And, on this 
 bare possibility, the heroic wife and daughter had torn 
 herself from the exiles, braved the perils of the ocean 
 alone, and again set foot in her native land. 
 
 So far, at first, from her obtaining the desired interview 
 with Charles, his minions had seized upon Alice as a hos 
 tage for the escaped prisoners, and thrown her into strict 
 confinement. Here she lingered during the sixteen years 
 of which our narrative takes no account. We have said 
 that that length of time may pass, figuratively speaking, 
 to many, as rapidly as the short turning of a leaf in our 
 volume. But to her, who was thus imprisoned, how 
 wearily must it have waned ! Separated from those to 
 whom she deemed her presence so necessary with no 
 means of communicating to them the fatal termination of 
 her projected journey of hope, how interminable must it 
 have appeared. Then it was, for the first time in her dis 
 tresses, that the noble spirit of Alice Heath sunk. Pre 
 vented from acting for those whom she loved, successive 
 days presented to her no object in life, and scarce the 
 faint hope of escape from her imprisonment at any future 
 period. 
 
 At length, however, at the time we again recur to her, 
 she had succeeded in gaining the ear of one who stood 
 high in the favour of the king. Through his influence 
 she had been released, and was this day to have an audi 
 ence with Charles in behalf of her proscribed relatives. 
 
 As Alice rode through London, the lofty houses, the 
 stately streets, the walks crowded with busy citizens of
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 267 
 
 every description, passing and repassing with faces of 
 careful importance or eager bustle, combined to form a 
 picture of wealth, bustle, and splendour to which she had 
 long been a stranger. Whitehall at last received her, and 
 she passed under one of the beautiful gates of tessellated 
 brickwork. 
 
 Noonday was long past when Alice entered the palace, 
 and the usual hour of the king's levee if anything could 
 be termed usual where there was much irregularity was 
 over. The hall and staircases were filled with lackeys and 
 footmen in the most expensive liveries, and the interior 
 apartments with gentlemen and pages of the household of 
 Charles, elegantly arrayed. Alice was conducted to an 
 ante-chamber. Here, in waiting, were many of those indi 
 viduals who live upon the wants of the noble, administering 
 to the pleasuresof luxurious indolence, and stimulating the 
 desires of kingly extravagance by devising new modes and 
 fresh motives of expenditure. There was the visionary phi 
 losopher, come to solicit base metals in order that he might 
 transmute them into gold. There was the sea-captain, come 
 to implore an expedition to be fitted out, if not exactly to 
 discover new worlds, at least to colonize and settle unci 
 vilized ones. Mechanics and artisans of every trade the 
 poet the musician the dancer all had collected here 
 under promise of an audience with their monarch, many 
 of them day by day disappointed, but still returned anew. 
 
 Alice halted at the door of the apartment, seeing it 
 filled with so many persons, and beckoning a page to her, 
 handed him a passport from the Duke of Buckingham. 
 On glancing his eye over it, he requested her to follow
 
 268 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 him. He led her some distance, through various passages, 
 elegantly carpeted, and paused before a small withdra wing- 
 room. Throwing open the door, he desired her to enter. 
 The apartment was hung with the finest tapestry, repre 
 senting classic scenes, and carpeted so thick that the 
 heaviest tread could scarcely be heard. Stools and 
 cushions -were disposed here and there about the floor, 
 and elegant sofas and couches were placed against the 
 walls. Statues of bronze, intended to light the apartment 
 by evening, were placed in various niches. A large glass 
 door opened into a paved court heated by artificial means. 
 In this court a number of spaniels were playing, and nu 
 merous birds, of different species, seemed to be domesti 
 cated there. 
 
 Upon this day, the king held his court in Queen Catha 
 rine's apartments. These were thrown open at a given 
 hour to invited persons of something less than the highest 
 rank, though the nobility had likewise the privilege of 
 being present. 
 
 It is not unknown that Charles had allowed many of 
 the restrictions by which the court had been surrounded 
 during the previous reign, to be remitted. This circum 
 stance it was that had chiefly gained him the popularity 
 which he possessed, and that, in fact, enabled him to retain 
 the throne. All who could advance the slightest claims to 
 approach his circle, were readily admitted ; and every for 
 mality was banished from a society, in which mingled some 
 of the most humorous and witty courtiers that ever dangled 
 around a monarch. The dignity of the king's bearing
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 269 
 
 withal, secured him against impertinent intrusion, and his 
 own admirable wit formed a sure protection against the 
 sallies of others. 
 
 On the present day, Charles seemed peculiarly alive to 
 sensations of enjoyment from the scene before him. Ar 
 rangements for prosecuting all the frivolous amusements 
 of the day were prepared by the gay monarch. A band 
 of musicians was provided, selected by his own taste, which, 
 in every species of art, was of the nicest and most critical 
 kind. Tables were set for the accommodation of game 
 sters. From one to the other of these, the King glided, 
 exchanging a jest, or a bet, or a smile, as the occasion 
 suggested it. 
 
 While he was thus occupied, the page who had conducted 
 Alice into the withdrawing-room, suddenly entered. He 
 spoke a few words to an attendant upon the court, who 
 immediately approached and informed his majesty that a 
 lady, refusing to announce her name, desired to be admit-, 
 ted into the presence. 
 
 " By what right, then, does she claim to enter?" de 
 manded the Queen, hastily. 
 
 "She used the name of the Duke of Buckingham," re 
 plied the usher. 
 
 " Who can she be ?" said a nobleman present. 
 
 "In- the name of adventure, let us admit her," said the 
 King. 
 
 The games were neglected ; the musicians played with 
 out being listened to ; conversation ceased ; and a strange 
 curiosity pervaded the circle. 
 
 23*
 
 270 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 " Does your majesty desire the lady to be admitted?" 
 inquired the attendant. 
 
 " Certainly ; but, no, I will see her in the ante-room." 
 So saying, he left the apartment. 
 
 Alice had sat some moments on one of the sofas we have 
 mentioned, when a person entered, whose appearance 
 caused her heart to beat rapidly, as if conscious that he 
 was the individual with whom she sought an interview. 
 He whom she beheld was apparently past thirty years of 
 age. His complexion was dark, and he wore on his head 
 a long, black periwig. His dress was of plain black 
 velvet, and a cloak of the same material hung carelessly 
 over one shoulder. His features were strongly marked, 
 but an air of dignified good-humour presided over his 
 countenance. 
 
 Alice, conscious of the deep die which hung upon the 
 issue of this meeting, grew paler than even imprisonment 
 and sorrow had left her, and her heart palpitated with 
 such energy that it seemed as if it must burst its prison- 
 house. She rose as the King approached, and fell upon 
 her knees. As we have said, there was not the faintest 
 shade of vital colour to enliven her countenance, and the 
 deep black garb in which she was clad, as accordant with 
 her feelings and suitable to her distressed condition, in 
 creased the effect of this unearthly pallor. She was still 
 beautiful, despite of care and time, and the angel-like ex 
 pression of purity had deepened upon her features. 
 
 Charles, ever alive to the charms of her sex, paused, 
 much struck, at the interesting picture she presented.
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 271 
 
 Advancing, after he had gazed on her for an instant, he 
 bade her rise and be seated. 
 
 It was dangerous for the king to behold beauty in the 
 pomp of all her power, with every look bent upon conquest 
 more dangerous to see her in the moment of unconscious 
 ease and simplicity, yielding herself to the graceful whim 
 of the instant, and as willing to be pleased as desirous of 
 pleasing. But he was prone to be affected far differently 
 by gazing on beauty in sorrow ; for his feelings were as 
 keenly alive at times to impressions of genuine kindness 
 and generous sympathy, as they were to the lighter emo 
 tions of the heart. 
 
 Her glance was one rather of uncertainty and hesitation, 
 than of bashfulness or timidity, as she still knelt and said, 
 " I behold his majesty, the King of England, I presume ?" 
 
 " It is Charles Stuart, madam, who requests you again 
 to seat yourself," said the King. 
 
 " The posture I employ is the most fitting for one who 
 comes to ask a boon such as I have to solicit. I am the 
 daughter and wife of certain of thy unhappy father's 
 enemies." 
 
 The King's countenance instantly changed. " Ah," said 
 he, "her whose release I have recently granted?" 
 
 " The same," replied Alice, " and I come now on behalf 
 of my husband and father, to beg you to extend your cle 
 mency to them." 
 
 "Madam," said Charles, "you have at length obtained 
 your own pardon, and methinks that is already a sufficient 
 act of generosity, when I might have held you still as a 
 hostage for the escaped prisoners."
 
 272 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 "If you entertained any hope from that circumstance," 
 rejoined Alice, " that those whom you pursue would ever 
 deliver themselves up for my redemption, believe me, they 
 were idle ; for I had taken care to prevent the knowledge 
 of my situation ever coming to their ears. And except for 
 some such a hope, I can hardly think you would desire 
 longer to confine an innocent female." 
 
 "Your own release is freely granted," said Charles; 
 " and I grieve, now that I behold you, that it should have 
 been thus long delayed." 
 
 " My release is something, it is true," said Alice, " since 
 it will permit my return to those unhappy beings for whom 
 I plead. But will you not add to this act of generosity one 
 still more noble, and let me bear to them the news of their 
 pardon." 
 
 " It grieves me to refuse you," answered Charles. " But 
 your father was one of the most implacable judges in that 
 parricidal court that condemned Charles I. to death." 
 
 At these words Alice leaned back against the walls of 
 the apartment for support, her countenance becoming not 
 paler than before, for that was impossible, but convulsed 
 with the effort to repress her emotion. 
 
 "Hear me," said she at length, after a violent struggle, 
 " I have one plea to urge in behalf of my request, and if it 
 fails of success, I will depart in despair." 
 
 " Say on, madam," answered the king ; " your plea must, 
 indeed, be powerful, since you are about to advance it with 
 so much fervour and confidence." 
 
 "It is in the confidence of small desert, my lord. But
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 273 
 
 I will proceed at once to offer it. This is not," she con 
 tinued, "the first time that I have come to beg the boon 
 of a human life within these walls a life not endeared to 
 me by personal ties as are those for whom I now implore 
 your forgiveness. Unprompted by any motives of self- 
 interest, but urged merely by feelings of compassion, such 
 as I would fain excite this moment in your bosom, I came 
 hither to beg the life of your father, my liege, the late un 
 happy king." 
 
 Charles looked much astonished. 
 
 "I came hither, my lord," pursued Alice, "on the night 
 preceding that unfortunate day which I will not pain you 
 by naming, to solicit the influence of the only man in Eng 
 land who could have interposed to save the life of the late 
 Charles Stuart. My efforts, alas ! I need not say, were 
 but too unavailing. But, by those efforts, all fruitless 
 though they were, I urge your pardon of the offenders for 
 whose dear sakes I am here a suppliant. Let the loyalty 
 of the wife and daughter atone in this instance for the dis 
 loyalty of the husband and father ; and let this act of noble 
 forgiveness distinguish your reign." 
 
 The King's eye had moistened while she spoke, and an 
 exceeding softness came over his mood. It is known that 
 he was peculiarly alive to gentle and generous impressions. 
 "Your appeal," said he, "is " 
 
 "Not fruitless, I trust," interrupted Alice, who had 
 beheld with joy the effect of her words upon his coun 
 tenance. 
 
 "Far otherwise," replied Charles; "but ask not your
 
 274 , TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 demand as a boon at my hands, urge it as a debt of grati 
 tude due from a son to one who would have saved the life 
 of his parent." 
 
 " Call it what you will, my lord, but grant my request." 
 
 "Rise, madam," said Charles ; "my debt to you shall be 
 cancelled your husband and father are pardoned." 
 
 Alice pressed the hand with grateful warmth, and raised 
 it to her lips. " May the Lord reward you for the blest and 
 healing words you have uttered," said she. "No thanks 
 my tongue can speak may suitably express my acknow 
 ledgments for what you have done. You have yourself, 
 my liege, known what it is to be hunted down by those 
 who would have deprived you of life. And when you first 
 learned that you might again hold your existence without 
 fear, the thrill of happiness you must have experienced 
 may be named as a fair parallel with that you now confer 
 on those two outcasts whose lives and liberty hung upon 
 your word. But there is no criterion by which one of 
 your sex may judge of the blessing bestowed upon a wife 
 in restoring the life and freedom of her husband. May 
 God repay you for the joy you have conferred upon my 
 heart." 
 
 " I am already repaid in your gratitude," said the King. 
 "Besides, let me not forget that I am only returning an 
 obligation." 
 
 "I little dreamed," rejoined Alice, "when I made an 
 effort on account of the late king, that the time would ever 
 arrive when I should urge it to your majesty as an obliga 
 tion on your part. It was a simple act of compassion, and
 
 THE LADY OF THE KOCK. 275 
 
 some instinctive feelings of loyalty toward my unhappy 
 sovereign. But I find I did not misjudge .his son when I 
 thought to found on it some claims to his mercy and gene 
 rosity." 
 
 "The circumstance affords an illustration of the truth, 
 that deeds of kindness sooner or later meet their reward 
 even in this life." 
 
 "May> you live then to reap your recompense for that 
 you have but now performed," said Alice, terminating the 
 interview, and turning to depart. 
 
 The King accompanied her in person to the outer door 
 of the palace, and a page conducted her to the gate, where 
 a carriage was in waiting.
 
 TRUTH AST) FANCY. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 "Adieu, oh fiUberland! I see 
 
 Tour white cliffs on the horizon's rim, 
 And though to freer skies I fee, 
 
 My heart swells, and my eyes are dim !" 
 
 WOOL 
 
 O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, 
 Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, 
 Far as the breeze eaa bear, the billows foam, 
 Surrey oar empire and behold our home. 
 These are our realms, no limits to their sway, 
 Our fag the sceptre all who meet obey." 
 
 BTKOJT. 
 
 A SEAT, tight-built brig was preparing to sail from 
 London. On her deck might have been seen all the con 
 fusion usually attendant upon the departure of a vessel 
 from port. Men hurrying to and fro with baggage 
 sailors hauling the ropes, and climbing the ladders, and 
 fastening the boats to the side passengers getting on 
 board, and friends accompanying them for the sake of 
 remaining with them to the last moment and the voices 
 of all resounding in dissonant tones in the air. 
 
 Among the passengers, two persons might have been 
 particularly noticed. One was an exceedingly delicate 
 and lovely-looking woman, apparently about the meridian 
 of life. She was clad in black, and as she threw aside her 
 veil to ascend the plank leading to the vessel, she dia-
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 277 
 
 covered a face of such exquisite beauty, and an expression 
 of such elevated purity, that all who caught a passing 
 glimpse of her lineaments, turned to observe them more 
 closely. She was alone, and borrowed the arm of a sailor 
 to walk the plank, ascending it with a firm and dignified 
 tread. As soon as she touched the vessel's deck, she put 
 a small piece of money into the hand of her companion, 
 drew her veil again tightly over her face, and immediately 
 sought the cabin. 
 
 The other was a young man of handsome exterior, who 
 boarded the brig just after the lady we have described had 
 disappeared below. Walking toward the stern of the vessel 
 he leaned over the side. He remained thus for some time, 
 apparently absorbed in a pleasing revery, and heedless of 
 the bustle and confusion by which he was surrounded. At 
 length he drew from his pocket a letter, evidently written 
 in a delicate female hand, and read it with much interest 
 seemingly pondering upon every line of it with that length 
 ened perusal which a man bestows only upon the epistolary 
 communications of the woman of his love. 
 
 Finally the preparations were ended. A bell rang, and 
 those persons who intended to remain in England left the 
 vessel. Slowly she got under way, and the breeze soon 
 bore her out of sight of the harbour. 
 
 A voyage at sea is monotonous in the extreme ; the only 
 incident that can occur to give it positive variety being 
 either a wreck or a capture that variety is a thing to be 
 dreaded, not desired. The smallest change in the weather 
 
 the sight of a bird or a fish the meeting of another 
 
 24
 
 eye. Sie was x aJoop. her tafl tad
 
 
 --T 
 -- 
 
 fiiliij fil il\j ^ i 'fi " 
 
 r J:-- EnfjMMl :c i 
 
 rf 
 
 ,-
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 no signs of indecision from the time when his resolution 
 appeared to be taken. He issued the further requisite 
 commands from the spot where he first stood, in perfect 
 calmness, and with that distinctness and readiness so im 
 portant to one in his position. 
 
 A boat was at once lowered by the sloop and filled with 
 armed hands, which rowed to take possession of their easy 
 prize. 
 
 The eye of the passenger never quitted the vessel as it 
 approached. The main-deck presented a picture of mingled 
 unquietness and repose. Many of the seamen were seen 
 seated on their guns, with their cheeks pressing the rude 
 metal which served them for a pillow. Others lay along the 
 deck with their heads resting on the hatches. A first glance 
 might have induced the belief that all were buried in the 
 most profound slumber. But the quick jerking of a line, the 
 sudden shifting of a position, required only to be noticed 
 to prove that the living silence that reigned throughout 
 was not born either of apathy or repose. 
 
 "Perhaps you might pacify them by fair words," said 
 the young man, as he still stood by the Captain's side. 
 
 "There is no hope of that." 
 
 "Is there not a lady below?" 
 
 "There is," answered the Captain. "I had forgotten 
 her until this moment." 
 
 "I will see to her," replied the other, and turning away, 
 he quickly disappeared below. He had known that there 
 was a female on board, but, as she had throughout the 
 passage kept the cabin and taken all her meals in private, 
 he had not yet seen her.
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 281 
 
 When he entered, she was seated at a table in the centre 
 of the cabin. An elbow rested on it, and one fair hand 
 supported a brow that was thoughtful even beyond the 
 usual character of its expression. 
 
 He felt the blood rush to his heart, for he fancied the 
 beautiful and pensive countenance before him was familiar. 
 He stood uncertain, when the hand was removed from her 
 face, and, raising her head, she perceived that she was no 
 longer alone. Their eyes met, and each started with a 
 mutual glance of recognition. In her he beheld the wife 
 and daughter of the regicides; and she, in turn, had little 
 difficulty in tracing in his features, now matured to man 
 hood, those of the youth who had borne the basket of pro 
 visions to and fro, and who had spent a night in the cave. 
 In a word, Alice Heath and Frank Stanley had met. 
 
 If Stanley had before felt for the lady's situation on 
 board of a captured vessel, merely from the compassionate 
 feelings due to her sex, with how much more sympathy did 
 he regard her now. After his interview with Jessy Ellet, 
 on the night before his departure for England, with sus 
 picions aroused in his mind that she whom he beheld might 
 be the mother of that object of his affections, how painful, 
 too, to him must have been the thought that the worst 
 fears her mind might have suggested would probably be 
 realized. 
 
 " I fear I can do little to quiet your apprehensions, 
 madam. I have before had occasion to witness your 
 strength of mind and courage, and, all things considered, 
 I deem it best to prepare you for the worst. The ship is 
 
 24*
 
 282 
 
 TKUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 attacked by pirates, and being unprepared for defence, has 
 been obliged to surrender. I will remain with you, and 
 protect you as far as I am able." 
 
 Alice received the awful information with calmness. 
 
 Meanwhile, Stanley had scarcely left the deck ere the 
 boat drew alongside, and a number of men jumped on 
 board. One of them, of about thirty years of age, who 
 was evidently the commander, approached the Captain, and 
 claimed the brig. 
 
 This person was a man of a tall and bulky form, and 
 attired in a dress which seemed to have been studied with 
 much care, although the style of it exhibited more extrava 
 gance than taste. Several pistols were fastened by a 
 leathern belt around his waist. 
 
 "By what warrant do you stop me thus on the high 
 seas ?" asked the Captain of the brig. 
 
 " You shall have the perusal of any of my warrants that 
 you may desire," replied the other, pointing to the pistols 
 at his belt. 
 
 "You mean that you intend to capture us," said the 
 captain. "Be it so, then; but use civility toward the 
 lady passenger in the cabin." 
 
 " Civility to the lady passenger !" echoed the pirate 
 commander ; " nay, we will use more than mere civility to 
 her ; for when are we otherwise than civil to the women, 
 and, if they be fair, kind to boot. Where is this Dulcinea ? 
 We will see her, for she may be the flower of our prize." 
 
 So saying, he turned on his heel and descended to the 
 cabin. The Captain of the captured brig followed, hoping
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 283 
 
 that his presence might in some measure serve to protect 
 the lady. 
 
 " A beautiful woman !" exclaimed the pirate, as he en 
 tered. " None of your youthful lasses, but a ripened spe 
 cimen of the sex ; and with a look of sorrow, too, enough 
 to soften the heart of a stone. Come," added he, "most 
 fair and lovely queen of affliction, let me sympathize with 
 you." 
 
 The lady drew her veil closely over her face, and with 
 much offended dignity endeavoured to extricate herself 
 from his grasp. 
 
 "Let go of her, sir!" exclaimed Stanley, in a tone of 
 anger. 
 
 " Why should I let her go ; and by what right do you 
 interfere in her behalf?" replied the pirate, turning roughly 
 upon the speaker. 
 
 " Because I command you, sir, and because I will pro 
 tect her with my life." 
 
 " You command me, indeed !" sneered the pirate. 
 "You shall then see what weight your commands have 
 with me. Come," he continued, addressing the lady, 
 " cast aside this muffling : you have a face, from the 
 glimpse I caught just now, that can bear to be uncovered 
 with the best." 
 
 Suiting the action to the word, the ruffian had torn off 
 Alice's veil, when Stanley interposed, and struck him a 
 blow which sent him reeling to the farthest end of the 
 cabin. He fell heavily against the brass railing of the 
 stairway, and lay completely stunned. It was evident
 
 
 
 -.li: _.- irii iii ::~r LZ. ::z,:i:: ---.:"_ :lf ~f:dl iz. in= 
 nil, for the Wood streamed from it copiooslv. The noise 
 brought the other pirates into the cabin. Seeing their 
 T""^ MM| *" in the plight we hare described, they raised 
 him and placed him en a berth. 
 
 Demanding next an explanation from Stank y and the 
 _--'- :: :_v ": ::j. -.--- ~-~- : :: n :l-n ": ::!i iz.i :7r 
 :if- :i ir :. -irTr -L-- ~T:T : ". .-. ;- . -^ "T: - ;:::. -1.1 
 tkreatened, if they were gmhy of another aggression, with 
 instant death. With regard to the ladj, considering her 
 ic the lawfkl booty of their commander, thej contented 
 themaehres with wttrring jests at her expense. 
 
 Whilst the 't *** abort related were occurring, the 
 brig had beem got wader way again, by her captors, and 
 wa& moving on in the wake of the sloop, which had changed 
 its cowrae, and was patting towards mad in a northeasterly 
 fed 

 
 LA9T Or THK BOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 ABOUT twenty-four hours after the capture of the brig, 
 rented IB the last chapter, every endence of % Tnleaft 
 storm was abroad. The wind begaa to 9%h, as if bewail- 
 mjf IB auticnMtiott toe ^*ifci wfcicfc *tff fltereafeu ivr^HHOik 
 perpetrate. GradmaDr In i iiife vore Tiolent, it raped 
 with the violence of a romg fiav orer ite pter. A Uack- 
 BBR, mbMMt as thick as night, earned the free of the m*y, 
 as thovgh die Ahaighly were beadiBg his Mast awfcl 
 : r : ~TL - i _ : _ i _7~:tr 
 speedihr Mhnred bj heavr 
 tarbm^ the- ocean, sw^dfing bunlks and lakes 
 sheets of foanu borne bj the aright of Ihewmd 
 their original sovree, and ifintdatiBg the had in a fearfkl 
 
 Two weeks previous to this atom aa agei eolaaast fioot
 
 286 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 New Haven, had arrived with his son at the island on 
 which Newport now stands. The advantages of that 
 situation for sea-bathing, at this day so thoroughly known 
 and tested, had even at that early period been discovered, 
 and the season being spring, their object was to make 
 arrangements for putting up a rude bathing-house for the 
 accommodation of invalids. 
 
 During the storm described, the pair had remained for 
 shelter on board their schooner, which, anchored as she 
 was, had hard work to live through the anger of the ele 
 ments. At length, however, after four or five hours, their 
 rage began to abate : the wind gradually blew less and 
 less wildly, the clouds commenced to disperse, and the 
 shower to fall more quietly. Finally, the sun broke 
 through his shroud of darkness, a pleasant calm succeeded, 
 and the only rain-drops perceptible were those which clung 
 to the dripping masts and sides of the schooner, and the 
 rocks and shrubbery on the island. 
 
 As the old man and his son looked around them, the 
 sea swelled and heaved with the agitation of the recent 
 storm, the effects of which upon the waves had been too 
 violent to subside for many hours. The tide poured along 
 a surf deafening to hear, and bewildering to behold ; the 
 sea came on toward the beach in swells, rather than waves, 
 as though the whole flood were pouring on in one huge 
 body, rising gradually as it neared, towering above the 
 high ridge, drawing back for an instant, and standing as a 
 wall of water, it poured down like some mighty cataract. 
 
 All at once, the young man started and exclaimed,
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 287 
 
 " God in Heaven ! father, there is a vessel drifting upon 
 the opposite strand." 
 
 The old man perceived an object among the tide. He 
 took his spyglass and looked through it. " She is dis 
 masted," he said; "nothing but her hulk is left upon the 
 water." 
 
 "And drifting against the breakers," cried his son, in 
 horror, "without the slightest means of weathering the 
 point !" 
 
 " She makes no attempt," replied the other, " she must 
 be deserted by her crew." 
 
 " No open boat could have existed through such a storm 
 as is just past, all must have perished." 
 
 " Most probably," answered the old man, with the mild 
 composure of his years. 
 
 The hulk was now in the midst of the current, and 
 drifting rapidly toward the strand. Their sight of it, how 
 ever, was still indistinct, though from the black speck it 
 had at first appeared, it grew a visible object. At length, 
 they could perceive that it was a freight or passenger 
 vessel, unfitted for defence, for there were no port-holes 
 discernible. She had evidently been dismasted in the 
 storm, and lay water-logged upon the waves, at the mercy 
 of their violence. The crew, finding themselves unable to 
 guide her, or relieve the leak, had taken to their boats 
 and left the ship to her fate. 
 
 There was nothing then to fear for human life in the 
 end to which she was fast approaching ; yet the old man 
 and his son could scarcely behold her without a feeling of
 
 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 apprehension, about to fall a prey to the waves. As she 
 advanced, every fathom's stride she grew larger and larger. 
 At length, as she surmounted the summit of one moun 
 tainous billow, her whole bulk was discernible. And' when 
 that wave retired, she had ceased her existence, and the 
 receding ocean carried back merely her shattered remains, 
 in the form of planks and beams, to return again by the 
 next wave, and again be precipitated to a distance. 
 
 At this instant he perceived a plank floating toward the 
 land, to which were fastened two human beings. 
 
 " It has grounded in a place so shallow as almost to be 
 dry; those persons live and may yet be saved!" was the 
 exclamation of the youth, as he jumped from the deck of 
 the schooner, and began to make his way at an incredibly 
 rapid pace toward the wreck. 
 
 " My son, return; your attempt is rashness, nay, it is 
 death." 
 
 But the young man was out of hearing. In ten minutes 
 he stood upon the cliff which overlooked the spot he sought. 
 He began to descend. His progress was several times im 
 peded by the falling of huge stones to which he was about 
 to entrust his weight. Large fragments, too, came rolling 
 after him, as if to send him headlong to the bottom. But 
 a courageous heart and a firm tread bore him safely to the 
 foot of the precipice. 
 
 He was now upon the shallow portion of a small shelf, 
 which projected out a little distance into the sea, composed 
 of gravel and stones. Upon this a few pieces of the wreck 
 had grounded. He eagerly sought among these the objects
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 289 
 
 that had brought him on his perilous errand. He soon 
 discovered them. They were in a most precarious posi 
 tion. One of them, a delicate female, her wet clothing 
 hanging in heavy folds upon her form, and herself tied by 
 a handkerchief round her waist to a plank, being placed 
 with her face uppermost. The other was that of a man, 
 lying by her side in a reversed position, with his left arm 
 thrown over his companion, as if to keep her more securely 
 in her place, and his right clinging around the plank, with 
 the tight, convulsive grasp with which he had taken hold 
 upon it. In both these persons sense and the power of 
 motion were gone. The plank on which they lay, not 
 being thoroughly grounded upon the beach, but floating 
 still in part upon the sea, was liable every moment to be 
 washed away, to return no more. 
 
 Just as the youth, who had come in the hope of being 
 their preserver, had discovered them, he saw a billow ap 
 proaching, and hastened to interpose his efforts before it 
 reached them, lest, in receding, it might bear away the 
 sufferers. 
 
 He rushed into the surf, and held the plank on which 
 they were with the tenacity of some animal seizing upon 
 his prey, though under the dictation of a motive entirely 
 different. It was not without a severe struggle on his 
 part, that he as well as his lifeless companions were not 
 swept off by the wave, which proved even stronger in its 
 might than he had anticipated. He succeeded, however, 
 in retaining his position; and, before the return of another, 
 
 by a violent exertion of strength, he dragged upon the 
 
 25
 
 290 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 small strip of dry sand, the plank as well as those attached 
 to it. 
 
 He next asked himself, how he should remove the un 
 happy sufferers to his father's vessel, and obtain the means 
 of recalling their ebbing life and prostrated strength. He 
 looked toward the cliff and shouted for assistance, but he 
 was answered only by the roaring waves. He turned his 
 eyes again on those who were before him. The lady, as 
 she lay with her face uppermost, was a sight more beauti 
 ful in the eyes of the rough youth who gazed upon her 
 than he had ever deemed were the angels in Heaven. She 
 was at the middle age of life, but still interesting and lovely 
 in appearance. Her garments were black, and contrasted 
 strangely with the pearl-like whiteness of her skin. The 
 face of her companion being downward, his features were 
 not visible ; but chestnut curls clustered over the back of 
 his head, and his whole appearance gave promise of a 
 pleasing physiognomy beneath. 
 
 Bending over them, their preserver discovered that they 
 both still breathed, but so feebly, that the respiration of 
 each was scarcely perceptible. Of the lady especially, 
 life seemed to have so slight a hold, that there was much 
 ground to fear that, unless it were at once reinforced, it 
 would shortly become extinct. 
 
 At this moment, his father crept cautiously along the 
 beach. Anxious for his son, as well as wishing to assist 
 him in his hazardous enterprise of mercy, if, in fact, he 
 had not lost his life in the perilous path he had taken, the 
 old man had reached him at length by a circuitous and less 
 dangerous descent.
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 291 
 
 He uttered an exclamation of thanks in beholding him 
 uninjured. Then, after a moment's consultation, the 
 father untied the handkerchief which bound the female to 
 the plank, and lifting the insensible and fragile form in 
 his arms with much care, he set out with rapid steps by 
 the same path he had come. 
 
 His son had more difficulty in raising the body of her 
 companion. But by one of those superhuman efforts of 
 strength which great emergencies are known to inspire, he 
 at length succeeded, and with laboured breath followed 
 after his father, as rapidly as the heavy weight of his 
 burden would allow. 
 
 It was about twelve minutes after the old man, that the 
 youth reached the schooner. The lady, by this time, 
 under the vigorous exertions of his father, had revived so 
 far as to open her eyes and sigh heavily. 
 
 Both the men, therefore deemed it best to devote them 
 selves to the other sufferer. He, too, though not so readily 
 as his companion, owing to his face having lain downward, 
 and his respiration having been thus impeded, at length 
 gave signs of returning life. 
 
 Reader, we will not stay to behold their complete resto 
 ration to consciousness. We leave you to imagine the 
 circumstance. Doubtless you have anticipated us in the 
 information, that in them you behold Alice Heath and 
 Frank Stanley, both of whom the storm had been the 
 means of delivering unharmed from the hands of the 
 pirates.
 
 292 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " Oh, is it not a noble thing to die 
 As dies the Christian, with his armour on? 
 What is the hero's clarion, though its blast 
 Ring with the mastery of the world, to this? 
 What are the searching victories of mind 
 The lore of vanished ages ? What are all 
 The trumpeting? of proud humanity, 
 To the short history of him who made 
 His sepulchre beside the King of kings ?" 
 
 WILLIS. 
 
 HENRY ELMORE and his wife had suddenly been called 
 to New Haven, in consequence of the receipt of a brief 
 letter. By the same messenger, a letter had also come to 
 Jessy Ellet, from her lover, informing her of his arrival in 
 Connecticut, and giving some account of the capture of the 
 vessel in which he had sailed, and of the shipwreck, with 
 the details of his escape from which the reader is already 
 acquainted. He also hinted at some tidings which would 
 make her heart leap for joy, but added, that as he expected 
 to have the bliss of meeting her before twenty-four hours 
 from the time of his writing, he would defer his intelli 
 gence until then. 
 
 As Jessy sat alone, after having seen her sister and 
 brother depart for New Haven, counting the hours until 
 their return and her lover's arrival (for she supposed they
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 293 
 
 would come in company), her thoughts and feelings were 
 of that agitated kind natural to her situation, in expecting 
 to meet so soon the object to whom her affections were 
 plighted, after his absence for months in a distant land. 
 
 That part of the letter she had just received which 
 spoke of joyful intelligence awaiting her, increased the 
 pleasurable disturbance of her mind. To what could it 
 refer, if not to the subject upon which she had opened her 
 heart on the night when he had declared his love for her ? 
 Some clue, she deemed, he must have obtained to the truth 
 of her surmises, and to the continued existence of that 
 sadly beautiful lady, for whom she had so strangely felt 
 the instinctive yearnings of a daughter's affection. Filled 
 with all that expectancy to which this conviction gave rise, 
 in addition to that which the announced arrival of her 
 lover was calculated to produce, she had drawn her chair 
 into the corridor at the back of the house, to enjoy the 
 spring breeze, and muse at her pleasure. 
 
 As she sat thus, she was startled by the sound of a deep 
 groan, issuing from the door opening upon the wing of the 
 house to which the corridor led. Much surprised, and in 
 clined to think that her imagination had deceived her, and 
 that in the occupation of her mind she had mistaken some 
 ordinary sound, and fancied it that manifestation of distress 
 which she deemed she had heard, she aroused herself com 
 pletely from her reflections, and listened breathlessly to 
 hear whether or not it should be repeated. In a few 
 minutes it was audible again. This time it was impossible 
 
 25*
 
 294 TKUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 that she could be mistaken ; it was a groan of human 
 agony which she had heard. She rose instantly, and 
 approached the door from whence it came. She had never 
 before sought entrance here, having always supposed the 
 place sacred to her sister's devotions, and containing no 
 possible attractions which should lead her to visit it. 
 
 Hastily she glanced her eye along the door in quest of 
 a handle or latch to assist her in opening it ; but it con 
 tained none. She then pushed it, in hopes that it might 
 give way to her pressure. It was firmly secured, however, 
 and resisted all her attempts. At length she was about to 
 desist in despair, when another groan, deeper and more 
 heartrending than those she had heard previously, caused 
 her to make one more effort. She exerted her utmost, 
 strength, and in doing so, her hand accidentally touched 
 upon a secret spring, and the door suddenly gave way. 
 She found herself at the foot of a low flight of steps, up 
 which she quickly ascended. 
 
 Jessy Ellet here encountered another door, which stood 
 ajar. She heard within the sound of a heavy tread, and, 
 filled with astonishment, hesitated whether to advance or 
 retreat. Again a moan of distress fell upon her ear. 
 Stimulated by feelings of kindness and compassion, no 
 less than of intense curiosity, she proceeded, and stood 
 within a neat though humble apartment. It was carpeted, 
 and otherwise comfortably furnished. A table, strewn 
 with prints and newspapers, was placed in the centre of 
 the room. A low fire burned on the hearth, notwithstand 
 ing the lateness of the season, and a couch was drawn
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 295 
 
 near it, beside which was placed a stand covered with 
 phials, and a bowl containing nourishment for an invalid. 
 
 Upon this couch lay the form of a person covered with 
 a cloak. Jessy's quick glance rested here, and, at that 
 moment, another of the sounds of pain, such as she had 
 heard, issued from beneath the folds of the mantle. In 
 stantly approaching, she turned down the cloak, and 
 beheld the face of the dying person lying beneath it. It 
 was that of an aged man, whose features were wan and 
 worn. His eyes were closed, and through the midst of the 
 traces of pain which rested upon his countenance, might 
 have been discerned the calm beauty of holiness, and the 
 placid smile of one whose hopes were placed in heaven. 
 
 As Jessy stood, she became conscious, by a slight move 
 ment behind her, that there was still another inmate of the 
 apartment. Turning, she beheld standing near, a form of 
 manly grace and dignity. As she did so the countenance 
 of the person whom she viewed underwent an entire change, 
 and he regarded her with a fixed and painful earnestness, 
 while a flush that overspread his fine features evinced no 
 little emotion. 
 
 "Excuse my intrusion," said Jessy, addressing him mo 
 destly, and with embarrassment. "I heard a sound of 
 distress, and came hither to learn whence it proceeded." 
 
 At the tones of her voice, the invalid, with another groan, 
 stirred, as if about to awake. It seemed as though there 
 had been some magic in her notes to arouse him, for his 
 sleep had been deep, and she had spoken but in a low key.
 
 296 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 "I heard the voice of my Alice, did I not?" said he, 
 faintly. 
 
 Opening his eyes, he beheld Jessy standing by his side. 
 "The Lord's blessing be upon thee, Alice," he murmured, 
 endeavouring to stretch out his withered and feeble hand 
 toward her. " I knew thou hadst not utterly forsaken us. 
 See, William, she has returned ; the Lord is still merciful 
 to us. Mine eyes have beheld her once more, and I have 
 now no other wish than to close them again and die." 
 
 Jessy, supposing his words caused by the delirium of 
 illness, gently took the faded hand he tried to offer, and 
 he continued : "Years have passed over thee, my daughter. 
 Thou lookest scarce older or less fair than when thou wert 
 wont to trip about thy father's halls, ere trouble visited us. 
 Time has not dealt so lightly with thy husband and myself. 
 See how thine absence has wasted me until I am dying to 
 day. Alice, thou must have been happier than we have 
 been during thy separation." 
 
 Surprised at these words, Jessy turned toward the other 
 stranger. 
 
 "He mistakes me for another," said she. 
 
 "Well might I too believe that thou art she," replied 
 the person addressed, regarding her fixedly in an absent 
 manner, and speaking as if to himself. "Maiden," said 
 he, suddenly, shaking off for a moment his waking dream, 
 and advancing a step nearer to her, " by what name do 
 they call thee ?" 
 
 " I am known as Jessy Ellet, sir," she replied, modestly. 
 "Whom do I so much resemble?"
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 297 
 
 The person spoken to did not apparently hear the query. 
 His whole senses seemed absorbed in the one sense of sight; 
 and he continued to gaze upon her until, in spite of all his 
 efforts at self-control, he seemed almost completely over 
 come by some feelings of extraordinary emotion. 
 
 Jessy looked in surprise at his working features for a 
 moment, and she felt her nature melt in a flow of generous 
 sympathy toward him, as she tremulously and apprehen 
 sively repeated her question. 
 
 "Whom dost thou resemble ?" he said at length. " Thine 
 own mother, my daughter my wife, and the child of that 
 dying man. Behold your father and grandfather in the 
 unhappy beings before you. Come, my child, to this long 
 forsaken bosom." And he stretched out his arms to 
 receive her. 
 
 There was a moment's doubt on the part of Jessy ; but 
 a mysterious instinct convinced her of the truth of the 
 words she had heard, and the next moment her arms were 
 about the neck of the stranger, and her voice was uttering 
 through sobs and tears the endearing name of father. 
 
 After a while, gently disengaging herself from his em 
 brace, she knelt down by the side of the aged sufferer, and 
 bathed his feeble hands with her tears. The old man 
 seemed to have no part in the recognition which had taken 
 place ; his imagination mistook the gentle creature before 
 him for the lost child of his memory. 
 
 He appeared now to be sinking rapidly, and as the father 
 and daughter sat with full hearts in the consciousness of 
 being thus united, and listened to his laboured respirations,
 
 298 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 the sound of approaching carriage-wheels slightly shook 
 the house. It ceased, and a vehicle stopped at the door. 
 A few moments more, and a creaking was heard upon the 
 stairs. Presently after a step fell upon the floor of the 
 room, and a female figure softly advanced. The father 
 and daughter started simultaneously, and rushed toward 
 her. In a moment the arms of both were around her, and 
 the heroic Alice Heath was at length restored to her hus 
 band and child. 
 
 We should attempt in vain to describe the scene that 
 followed. From the state of torpor produced by ap 
 proaching death, the old man was suddenly awakened to 
 all the pleasure of an actual reunion with her most dear to 
 him on earth. Imagination itself will find difficulty in 
 supplying the effect upon all, when, with hands upraised, 
 and on her bended knees beside his couch of death, Alice 
 thanked God, in all the fervour of true piety, that she had 
 returned in time to shed a ray of comfort upon the de 
 parting spirit of her aged father. Neither can any con 
 ception paint her feelings of bliss as she 'arose to be clasped 
 again in the arms of him to whom she had pledged her 
 virgin faith, and was bound by the holiest of earthly ties, 
 or to meet the embrace of the daughter toward whom her 
 soul had yearned so long in absence with all a mother's 
 tenderness. Suffice it to say, that love and affection, the 
 first elements of her nature, and her great sustaining prin 
 ciples throughout all her trials here, found ample exercise 
 in the full fruition of joy.
 
 THE LADY OF THE HOCK. 299 
 
 We will not linger on the scene with minute detail, 
 since no power of language we possess can convey the 
 transcript as it should be. Pass we on then to the con 
 clusion of our story. 
 
 : ;;-> f. 
 
 - '. .
 
 300 TRUTH AXD FANCY. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 "To sum the whole the close of all." 
 
 DEAN SWIFT. 
 
 THE morning of the next day dawned on few who had 
 pressed their customary couches in the house of Henry 
 Elmore, for the aged sufferer, on the night that inter 
 vened, had breathed his last beneath its roof. The body, 
 extended on the bed, exhibited, even in death, that mild 
 ness and serenity of expression that had characterized his 
 face during the latter portion of his life. 
 
 Sorrow could scarcely grieve that one who had outlived 
 the full term of years allotted to man, and drank so 
 deeply of earth's cup of trial, should, at last, in a moment 
 of unhoped-for joy to cheer his exit from life, have finally 
 departed ; and Alice felt, as she kissed his cold brow, ere 
 the coffin-lid had closed upon it for ever, that her deepest 
 feelings of filial affection could not inspire the wish within 
 her to recall his departed spirit. Tears, many and heavy, 
 it is true, were shed over him, but they fell rather for the
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 301 
 
 sorrows he had passed, than because he was thus summoned, 
 in the fulness of time, to a world where sorrow could never 
 come. 
 
 He was followed to the grave not only by his relations, 
 but by Henry Elmore and his wife, whose feelings on the 
 occasion were scarcely less deep than their own. In them 
 the deceased, as well as his unhappy companion, had found 
 true and sympathizing friends ; and to their unremitting 
 care and attention it was that they had not both sunk, long 
 ere the return of Alice, into the same grave to which the one 
 had now finally departed. Governor H. and his excellent 
 lady likewise attended the funeral with much sympathy, 
 and returned afterward to the house of their niece, to rejoice 
 with Alice on her return, and congratulate her husband on 
 the pardon of which he had been the bearer. 
 
 An interesting scene ensued, in which Jessy wept upon 
 the necks of those generous friends, and returned her thanks 
 to them for having so long sought to shield her from the 
 misfortunes of her family. Between Lucy and herself a 
 still more affecting embrace followed. The former, through 
 the strict secrecy of her uncle and aunt, had never sus 
 pected that the tender name of sister by which she had 
 known Jessy, was only assumed. But though she received 
 the intelligence in some sorrow, it was scarcely of a heart 
 felt kind ; for both had a consciousness that it was in the 
 name alone that a change could take place, and that in 
 feeling and affection they would ever remain sisters still. 
 
 Stanley, too, was present on this occasion. His meeting 
 
 26
 
 302 TRUTH AND FANCY. 
 
 with Jessy at such a season of deep feeling for her had 
 been tender in the extreme ; and although he had not as 
 yet had time for many "words in private with the object of 
 his affection, she read in his manner and countenance his 
 deep and ardent sympathy. 
 
 The rumour of the strange reunion between the parents 
 and child ; of the long seclusion of Lisle and Heath in the 
 wing of Henry Elmore's house, thereby explaining all the 
 mystery formerly attached to it, soon spread throughout 
 the colony. But it scarcely excited the astonishment which 
 such a romance in real life would create at the present day, 
 for those were periods of tragical confusion and strange 
 catastrophe, for better or for worse, when the rendings 
 asunder of domestic charities were often without an hour's 
 warning, and where reunions were as dramatic as any ex 
 hibited on the stage. 
 
 It created little surprise, therefore, when Heath removed 
 to Boston with his gentle and lovely wife, there to reside 
 permanently, or when Jessy Ellet appeared as an inmate 
 of their family. 
 
 It was just three months after this removal that Stanley 
 and Jessy were united in marriage. No wedding-party was 
 invited to grace the occasion ; but Governor and Mrs. 
 H., and Henry Elmore and his wife were the only guests. 
 
 We will now bid the reader adieu, leaving him to imagine 
 that henceforth the fortunes of all of our characters ran in 
 as smooth a tide as is possible in this world. We all know 
 that the stream of actual life flows in an even course with
 
 THE LADY OF THE ROCK. 303 
 
 but few. With most it is romance aside as our tale has 
 shown it, a confused succession of alternating sensations, 
 sometimes dark and dull of hue, like the clouds of winter, 
 at others, breaking out into the glowing splendour and 
 bright illusions of a dream. 
 
 THE END.
 
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