CHAPTER XXVII. -Lo! yonder My native mountains; and how beautiful They rest in the moonlight! I was nurs'd among them; SOUTHEY, A DREARY Voyage was Waldegrave's from the Italian shores to the red cliffs of his native Devonshire. During a six weeks' passage the vessel frequently encountered rough weather; but when the sea ran high and the sails were lowered, his heart throbbed not. A sigh for Lord Egmont, the evening of whose life had no other light but his son's affection, was all that escaped our hero's weary breast. But even that inward pang was not acute as it would have been a few months earlier. The remembrance of overwhelming embarrassments dashed away the smallest chance of future comfort. "Yet if I could but bury that bitter knowledge from my father," thought he, "it would not affect me much. Rossi is a vulture whose quick scent hunts out the newest prey. Never existed a villain more determined to clutch his victims by every unfair advantage which his lack of conscience gives him over the unsuspicious. In no case could I extricate myself during my father's life, and after that it recks not what becomes of me and mine. Egmont must be sold-the favourite place of his creation; that thought were deadly poison to him. Edith, I have drunk my potion, and nothing more can touch me." From these ideas his mind reverted to Lady Hermione, on whom he vented the gathered tide of his indignation, as he now remembered a thousand circumstances illustrating her hypocrisy and artifices— "Things light and lovely in their acted time, The various stratagems through which she had laboured to excite his interest by a show of restless and universal kindness, now stood stripped of the ideal beauty with which his warm imagination had clothed them. Her deep-laid treachery was revealed. That she should be the repository of his and Edith's secret, seemed to him not less a profanation than a perplexing mystery, It was true that Lady Hermione had an extensive correspondence with men who had at some period · belonged to her club. It was impossible, therefore, to conjecture the means by which she might not have obtained possession of Edith's note, with all the information essential to her schemes. Sir Arthur, Waldegrave acquitted of underhand practices. Though a little coxcombical and very loose in principles, he was too manly to have been her partner in an attempt to blacken Edith. The sense of bitter humiliation swelled almost to despair when he reflected how easily he had fallen a prey to her seductions. All the pride of his character concentrated itself into hatred against the syren, who, triumphant over his weakness, had cajoled him up to sing to the tune she chose. "Fool that I ever was, to listen to her whining nonsense!" he often inwardly exclaimed. "Artful, vicious woman! how clear are the tactics of that wo-begone scene she acted in her library and afterward at Baiæ; she thought to blast the fame of Edith, and while I was bleeding under the smart of mortification and rage, by flinging her love at my feet, to excite my compassion, gratitude, and adoration. Even then her vow had passed to poor Arnoldi. She would have left him at the altar for what seemed a better speculation in her mercenary eyes. "Oh! woman, woman! can you weep as if your heart were breaking, while your inmost soul mocks the wo you feign? "Tis true I saw no tears, though convulsed sobs made the air quake, and her eyes wore the deep shade of grief. But she is not even worth my anger," thought Waldegrave, as poor Arnoldi on the bed of death rose before his distracted fancy. His remorse for having cut short the unfortunate Prince's life, had at least the alleviation of his own and Sir Arthur's attempts to avert the catastrophe. But the image which haunted his mind most incessantly was Edith's; she was the most intricate riddle of his existIf ever truth in living characters was written on the, VOL. II.-3 ence. human brow, if ever guileless innocence was traced in the eye's bright smile or the cheek's quick blush, Edith's indeed had been the mirror of her soul; yet in his bosom Waldegrave bore the tangible undying testimony of her falsehood which he had received from her deadly foe. Painfully these ideas succeeded each other; the present day was like the former. The little incidents which varied their voyage, the progress of the ship, the different points of land she made, were unperceived by Waldegrave. Scarcely, when they at last sailed into Plymouth harbour, was he roused from his long apathy. But when he remembered that here the tidings of Arnoldi's life or death awaited him, Waldegrave shuddered, as with a sinking heart and agitated step he hurried to the post-office. Four letters were there delivered to him, two of which bore the post-mark Naples. The first, from Sir Arthur, announced the progress of Arnoldi's illness, which threatened to terminate in his death; and with the levity characteristic of its author, passed from that melancholy intelligence to a recital of Lady Hermione's subsequent conduct. She had acted, it appeared, some very sentimental scenes on the occasion, though she was now in high alliance with a young Russian Prince, who had lately arrived at Naples. Waldegrave broke open the next letter, which contained the unexpected and joyful news of Arnoldi's recovery written ten days after the former. It proceeded to say that the first act of Arnoldi's restoration was an indignant rejection of Lady Hermione, who had since absconded with the Russian to Sicily, whence tidings of their nuptials were hourly expected. The tears gushed from Waldegrave's eyes as he received the first information of a joyful nature which had greeted him for many long months. The third letter was from Lord Egmont, whose handwriting Henry beheld with emotion. It was written in that spirit of kindness which influenced all Lord Egmont's actions; lamented the misfortune which had rendered necessary Waldegrave's precipitate retreat; while it congratulated him at the same time on Arnoldi's recovery. The fourth was from Edgar, desiring to be informed of his friend's landing; which Waldegrave answered, by requesting that Edgar would meet him at Egmont on the following day. Henry then ordered a chaise, travelled through the same night, and reached Egmont in the afternoon. Though the month was September, the day was very cold. The rain was descending in torrents, which every moment made wider havoc among the last yellow relics of autumn. No lights from the window were visible, and Waldegrave thought, as he stepped from his chaise, that the home of his youth had never before worn so cheerless an aspect. Ere the long continuous sound of the house bell was answered, Henry stood within the hall, and with a beating heart hurried towards the library, which his father usually occupied. His long-sustained apathy vanished as the moment of their meeting approached. The library was shrouded in darkness, and the fire seemed to have been long neglected. Lord Egmont was sitting beside it, apparently sleeping ; but he moved and looked up when the door opened, without however being able to distinguish his son, whose close travelling-cap concealed the upper part of his face. Lord Egmont appeared equally astonished and overcome when Henry exclaimed, "My father!" He stood speechless for some moments; then clasped Waldegrave in his arms, and to his oft-repeated question, "How are you?" the Earl at length replied, "I am well, my dear Henry, and so rejoiced to see you again after your dreary voyage, that I could scarcely believe I really heard your voice. How are you? If this imperfect light deceives me not, you are very pale." "Oh! 'tis nothing," replied Waldegrave; "the long voyage and the rough weather-nothing more." Lord Egmont forbore annoying him with questions. The cessation of their correspondence during the last three months had combined with floating reports to throw a mystery round Henry's conduct which, much as it excited his anxiety, Lord Egmont desired not to penetrate till Waldegrave should spontaneously lay open to him his own affairs. Waldegrave, on the other hand, whose painful situation was more vividly represented to him than ever, when for the first time he returned Lord Egmont's overflowing kindness with joyless eye and deep dejected spirits, stood silently before him; or, when he essayed to speak, the half-formed sentences died on his lips. During dinner Lord Egmont conversed on various indif ferent subjects; but, when the servants had withdrawn, though he still abstained from alluding to Waldegrave's sudden return, yet, as their tête-à-tête was long and unbroken, the painful reserve could not be protracted. Henry gradually acquainted him with whatever related to himself, Lady Hermione, and Arnoldi, omitting only what related to Edith and his own misfortunes at the gaming table. Lord Egmont was no stranger to Lady Hermione's reputation. She had never been remarkable for her good conduct, or even for common affection to Mr. Glenville, whom she had utterly neglected during the long illness which had closed his mortal sufferings. Since his death she had affected a character of wild despair, secluding herself from society for the facility, however, it was supposed, of carrying on sentimental flirtations more effectually than an intercourse with the great world would: have permitted. The task of answering Lord Egmont's questions became more difficult when they were directed towards Waldegrave's residence on the banks of Como. To all inquiries respecting Lady Vivian and her daughters, his replies were vague and general; but Lord Egmont saw only in his hesitating manner the listlessness consequent upon a long voyage undertaken under the most harassing circumstances. He doubted not, that as the suspense with regard to Arnoldi was removed, the transient shadow on Henry's brow would speedily again disappear. On the following day, as Lord Egmont and Waldegrave walked down to the lake, the latter, whose serious difficulties. made him look on the fair lands of Egmont as already forfeited, observed with regret, that during his absence the lake had been doubled in length, and the number of workmen greatly increased. Thus it indubitably appeared that Lord Egmont was as much devoted, perhaps more, to the improvement of his estate than formerly. "I was so impatient," said he, smiling, "to get on with the arm before your return, that I have applied twenty more men to it since last week. Now you see the effect of our leaving that knoll, which some of them wanted us to remove-is it not striking ?" In bitterness of heart Waldegrave bestowed on these alterations the encomiums which they deserved. In effect, they had changed the whole character of this chosen spot, which, from being a pretty artificial pond, had expanded |