Chapter XXXVIII: What Happened There

The darkness of the sky and the denseness of the interwoven foliage overhead, made our whereabouts so obscure, that our horses stumbled at every step, till dismounting, I led them by the bridle. There was a strange stillness in the air; the rain fell in large warm drops which plashed heavily on the broad leaves of the summer forest; the green, ghastly lightning at times lit up the long dark vistas, glancing for an instant on the old gnarled trunks, imparting to them a freakish and grotesque aspect that terrified Nicola, who began to consider herself rather rash in having rehearsed that very far from lively historiette or episode in the life of his Majesty Charles VIII. in such an alarming locality; and as the thunder rolled and hurtled above us, every moment nearer and more near, she was all palpitating with terror like a little bird, when I wrapped my cloak round her, as an additional protection from the fast falling rain.

I now became seriously anxious to find a place of shelter for her. A night in the forest, exposed to all the discomfort of a storm, and to the real and imaginary terrors of such a place, might prove, I feared, too much for the constitution of a girl so delicate by nature, and so tenderly nurtured as Nicola had been.

While I was in this state of perplexity, we discovered a cavern, or deep fissure in a mass of ivy-covered rock close by us--the same rock on which the old castle stood. The bridle of Dagobert, whose equanimity (never very great at any time) was rather ruffled by the thunder, I buckled to the branch of a tree. Entering, I examined the place by firing my pistol among some dry leaves, and thus creating a momentary light, found it to be a complete alcove in the rocks, full of the withered spoils of the last autumn. I led in Nicola, placed her in a comfortable nook, and after securing the horses close by, in such a manner that to break loose or escape would be, for them, impossible, I rejoined her; and there we sat, hand in hand, in that dark rocky chamber, listening to the wild storm that bellowed without, and watching the gleams of lightning that flashed and glared on the stems of the summer forest.

I had my pistols at hand, prepared for any emergency; and making for Nicola a bed composed of dry leaves and our mantles, I besought her to be composed, and to endeavour to sleep; but she pressed my hand gently, and declared herself to be too much alarmed and too excited to think of sleeping; and there we were alone, at night, in that old haunted forest on the borders of Champagne.

I pressed her dear and tiny hand from time to time, and occasionally there was a response, which sent a thrill of happiness to my heart; then she crept closer to my side, for the darkness was intense, and the uproar of the elements without was somewhat appalling.

As we sat there, the deep, hoarse, solemn murmur of the wind, as it rose and fell, had in it something very impressive. At times it wailed like the mingled voices of a vast multitude; then it chafed among the tossing branches like the waves of a distant sea, in fierce and sudden gusts; anon it would die away, and we heard only the hiss of the rain that poured so ceaselessly down on the leaves of the drenched forest. At times strange sounds seemed to mingle with the passing wind. I deemed these to be the cries of affrighted wolves; and often sat pistol in hand, lest some of those dreadful denizens of the wild should find our place of shelter, and rush headlong in.

The lightning that came in brilliant and quivering flashes revealed the rugged outline of the cavern-mouth, and the wet dingles which stretched away in vague and dark perspective; and the whole scene, with all its concomitants, was so terrible, that Nicola drew her hood over her eyes, and at times drooped her forehead on my shoulder. She was faint with fear, and weary by fatigue; and, being a good little Catholic, I heard her muttering her prayers from time to time. Moreover, she made a vow, if she escaped all the terrors of the night, to visit the most renowned shrine in Lorraine, that of St. Lucy the Scot at St. Michel.

Then she uttered a feint cry, and clutched my arm!

A thunderbolt--a blazing ball of fire--which seemed to fall with a startling roar, and by its own specific weight, struck at the mouth of the cavern, a large tree, a strong and ancient oak, that had stood perhaps for a hundred years, and clashed it to pieces, cleaving it, like a mighty wedge of flame, to the roots in a moment. For a time the sulphureous odour was stifling; but it subsided at last, and with it the terror of my trembling companion.

'We are quite safe, Nicola,' said I, placing an arm gently round her.

'Safe--you think so? Ah! M. Blane, make a sign of the cross, just once--to please me.'

'Mademoiselle, in me it were a mockery,' said I; 'for my forefathers were the first to follow the precepts of the Lollards of Kyle.'

'Then their descendants should make amends, by being the first to follow mine. You deem it, as they did, Popish likely? What matter how you name it, or they named it; for, be assured, it is the sign of Heaven: and I shall make three over you,' said she, waving her pretty hand thrice, in the dark, across my eyes and brow.

'Dearest Nicola!'

'If you press my hand thus, I shall take the liberty of withdrawing it. St. Ephrem says, Look at the little birds, when they stretch out their winglets cross-wise--lo! they straight ascend towards heaven; but when they fold them, they fall panting and breathless down to--where?'

'The earth, I presume.'

'Yes--then think of these things.'

'Dear Nicola, I can think only of you.'

'When you have seen Marie Louise of Lorraine, you will think of me no more.'

'Peste! my dear Nicola, I have no desire to see your Mademoiselle Marie Louise; nor shall I trust myself near the dangerous vicinity of her or her people, at least until I exchange the costume of an abbé for the iron trappings of the Garde du Corps Ecossais.'

'And we shall have parted at the gates of Nanci?' said she, in a low voice.

'Ah, Nicola,' I replied, 'you know not how the anticipation of that parting wrings my heart!'

I sighed, and drew her close and closer still to my breast: she made no resistance; but I was conscious that she wept bitterly, and this secret emotion moved me deeply, and brought my passion to a height.

'Nicola,' said I, abruptly; 'will you marry me, dear Nicola? Oh, you do not know how much--how tenderly, I love you!'

'Marry me--a poor soubrette--you, a chevalier of the King's Guard--one of the proud noblesse of the Guard du Corps Ecossais!'

'Yes--I, Nicola.'

'Oh, monsieur, you must not speak in this way, or think of such a thing; I am only a poor girl!'

'Why?'

'What would the army--what would all Paris, say?'

'I will marry you with joy, Nicola, and take you home to my own dear country. The Countess--'

'Countess again!'

'Pardon me, dearest, I am not about to praise her, but merely to say that she has promised that through the powerful interference of Richelieu and King Louis, the cruel act which proscribes me shall be rescinded; and I know she will keep that promise. At home, I have lands, broad acres of corn and meadow, that lie by the banks of the Dee; I have fell and forest, a tower and hall, where your merry laugh shall make the echoes joyous again; and all that I have, with my heart and love, will I share with you, Nicola,' said I, borne away by the honest ardour of my passion, and the impulses of youth.

I felt her tremble still more, and her tears fell fast upon my cheek.

'Were I to admit that I loved you, would you be more devoted to me?'

'Impossible! I could not be more devoted than I now am.'

'Oh, silly M. Blane! I heard you once say nearly the same thing to that woman d'Amboise.'

'No more of these memories, dearest Nicola, or I shall sink with shame!'

'Then let us be silent!'

'Nay, nay; say that you love me--that you will marry me,' said I, in a whisper; 'speak, Nicola, speak! for this suspense and silence are torture!'

'It may not, cannot be; our ranks in life are unequal, and our paths lie far apart.'

'Love, marriage will make them one.'

'Never!' she replied, in a broken voice; 'our paths in life must, I repeat, lie far, far apart.'

'Nicola!'

'I am but a poor little soubrette, a penniless girl of humble origin; and how would your proud Scottish kinswomen, with all their crests and quarterings, receive me, if they knew of this?'

'It can never be known, Nicola; and as the wife of my heart, the lady of Blanerne, I can find strong hands and steel blades enough in Glenkens to force the proudest peer in Scotland to vail his bonnet to you!'

'Force him! and this is one item of the happiness you would offer me. That I love you, monsieur,' said she, weeping,' let these hot tears attest, but cease to speak more of love or of marriage to me. Such visions can never be realized; I could never brook the humiliation you would prepare for me; for I have much of pride and hauteur in my heart--albeit, you deem me so timid, meek, and gentle. I will strive to be your friend; but this love I shall conquer, crush, forget perhaps.'

'When?'

'When we separate;--alas! I cannot hope to achieve this fatal end while I remain with you.'

'No--no, Nicola!' said I, pressing her to my heart, as the tenderness and ingenuity of this admission, with the plaintive softness of her voice, touched me inexpressibly; 'you shall never succeed in being so cruel as to forget the pleasant days of our companionship, and the love we have avowed.'

'It may be so.'

Then there ensued a long pause, and we continued to sit in darkness and silence, hand-in-hand, our hearts and lips united as our thoughts; until at last, overcome by agitation and fatigue, Nicola feel asleep--asleep upon my breast!

Such a strange thing it is, this love.

I had met Nicola, and left her; met her again and again, to leave her, without other thought than that she was beautiful; she had been nothing to me then; but from the time that love began to spread its halo round her, she seemed as necessary to me as the air or the sunshine, yea, as life itself. We seemed now to have but one existence, and the marvel to me became, how had I lived, and breathed, and spent so many years without her; and without discovering that her place in the world of my heart had been vacant. It is very mysterious all this; but every lover has the same idea, or he is no lover at all.

My whole being seemed now inspired by a new joy; and I no longer remembered how time had passed with me before this fountain of passion had welled up within our souls with the first kiss we exchanged in that dark cavern, which, with all its attendant terrors, had so suddenly brought our emotions to a crisis: and so passed our night in the old haunted forest of king Charles VIII.