Johannes Scotus

“ How d'you like that, Captain?" said Sir Richard, filling his glass. "Your health, De Vere!"
Without replying the Captain drank wine.
"If this is really an established fact," said Mr. Power, "I think it should make you very serious; it is doubtless intended as a warning; and if your days are to be short on earth, do you ever think that, after death, there is an endless existence of bliss or misery?"
"After all," said the Earl, "you are no better than we are, Mr. Power;—none of us know our end." ”

“ To-morrow I will meet you at the Val."
A shade of sorrow passed over the young girl's face. "Alas! Signore; then you trust me not; you think I would lead you to peril. Farewell, Signore. I had thought differently of you; I am sadly mistaken. You have no confidence; farewell! You will never see your Leonora more, but you may repent your not following her!"
As she said these words, she mournfully turned away. It was not in mortal to resist any more.
"I wrong you, love, I do!" exclaimed the Earl. "Stay, I will come. I will follow you anywhere. There could not be treachery in such a brow!" ”

“ Alas! woe is me!"
Tears stood in the robber's eyes, to whom the late Captain had been a guiding star and friend—even in crime there is a sort of false glory—even among robbers a sort of friendship!
The boy Giovanni, too, leaned over the death-bed.
"Alas! thou art low, high heart, brave soul! But, like the rays of the setting sun, a twilight glory lingers yet. Thy life is gone; not so thy example. The fiery soul lingers still. I feel it swell within me! Our Captain is gone. I will be leader now. I am young; but it was his will. I am a boy in years—a man in soul. ”

“ I will meet the devil like a man; I have served him all my life; I have sown the wind, why should I play him false now, or be amazed if I reap the whirlwind? I have been a great sinner, but God knows my blood is on your head, Bill; you brought me to this, and—Oh God!—I am gone! A mortal pang ran me through like a knife—the Devil has hold of my heart! oh, heavens! I die—I d—i—e."
The death rattle in his throat choked the last words, and the soulless form of what was once John de Vere sank back,—the immortal soul fled to its dread Maker. ”

“ When at even you see the star we have gazed on so oft, you will think it is the morning star of my hopes! Farewell, Johnny! And whether we meet again or not, our vows shall never be broken. Farewell! If you come back you will find Florence faithful. Nothing but death shall then part us. And, if you die a soldier's death, you shall have it watered with Florence's tears.
"Go where glory waits thee,
But while fame elates thee,
Oh! still remember me!"
Bind my hair in your plume; and, when you fight, remember your
"Florence de Vere." ”

“ Since my brother's death I have felt the shadow of the tomb overshading me! Whether it was the awful scene of his self-destruction, or the air of the damp dungeon in which he was confined, I know not, but I have never felt the same man since. I think I shall soon go too!"
"Ah! say not so," said the Countess. "Oh, Wentworth! you must not leave us. It is a different thing to speak of death and to see our dearest fade beneath its cruel breath! You must take advice, dear, and change the air. This uncertain climate, after so long a residence in Italy, is not suiting you. ”

“ Last time he had seen that man was, when, tiger-like, he stood over Ellen Ravensworth, and shot the servant who saved his (the Earl's) life. And here he lay, pale, dejected, hungry, bound, with the sentence of death weighing on him, and his own dark thoughts for a prison friend.
What a fall! what an end! The gay gallant young soldier, the ardent lover, what had he come to? first abductor, then murderer, escaping from prison and just doom—not to repent, not to reform, but to sink, step by step, to descend bar by bar, the ladder of infamy till he was now on the very ground, a condemned felon. ”

“ He passed on; the opposing wall now appeared; in the corner, on a bed of maize-straw, a chained prisoner was stretched; could that be his brother? he turned the lantern's glare on his features; he almost started back; it was as if the Captain lay before him; never had the resemblance seemed so striking before. The light, blinding the captive, caused him to pass his hand over his eyes. The Earl could see him, he could not see who his visitor was, perhaps a messenger of death. Still the Earl gazed on him, still he could hardly summon resolution to speak. ”

“ Funchal was a little Paradise on the waters, such flowers and fruits, he wished he could send some of its wines to the Marquis. The stars were magnificent, and the southern constellations daily growing more splendid, and more brilliant than dwellers in the northern zone could imagine. He ended by tenderest love to his Florence and the Countess, and best remembrances to the Earl, saying he hoped to bring home the sword he had given him hacked like a saw in many a stiff encounter. ”

“ His face betrayed convulsive emotions, as if he was planning something within.
"Why burden yourself with her, Capitano?" said Pedro, "there are fairer girls than she in Avellino; she will be a burden, and ever moping and crying, like your last Inglese girl."
"You speak sooth, d—n me if you don't. What do I want with the pigeon? Wring her neck, and let's be off with our booty."
"Luigi," said L'Estrange, for by that name he had long learned to address him, "you have had your way with the old man—you have dipped your hands already in innocent blood—leave this girl to me, let her be my prize." ”

“ It is impossible to paint the grief of the surviving mourners; as they stood round the bed where she lay so lifelike they could scarce believe her dead. The "hectic streak" still tinged her face, and a smile so placid that it seemed as if it lingered there to tell the mourners how the disembodied soul was blessed.
"She is happy now," said the Countess; "we should not grieve over her as if we had no hope; but we have a blessed certainty she is happy."
But though she said so, Ellen's heart was too full, and she gave way to a passionate flood of tears, as she kissed the placid cheek of the dead. ”

“ But let me at least tell my wife I am going."
"My Lord, time is precious; lose no more; every minute is of priceless value. Waste no more time, Signore!"
Certainly, thought the Earl, this is a curious predicament, and still there is something so romantic in it; I cannot help going,—and yet I may be doing wrong. But Leonora would not betray me; I am sure of her, safe as steel! But she may be the artless messenger of Luigi, and my life may be in peril. I do not value it at a straw for myself; but Ellen,—no, I ought not to go. ”

“ Not a word was spoken either by the Earl or Leonora during their passage through the same long caves by which they had entered. The heart of each was too full for speech. Poor Leonora's dreams of liberation from a life she abhorred were for the present gone. It was, perhaps, the worst and darkest hour her young life had yet met. The shadow of the first cloud seems dreariest, as it sweeps over the sun-lit meadows; the darkness of the first sorrow is deepest, as it spreads a shadow over youth's sunny brow. By-and-by the eye gets accustomed to the frequent clouds ”

“ On a dark night in December—stormy as that eve on which Leander swam for the last time across the broad Hellespont—a small lugger manfully breasting the billows ran ashore near Musselburgh. There was a high north-easter, driving sleet and snow before it, and raising a heavy surf, through which old Bill skilfully ran his craft ashore on the sandy, seaweedy, mussel-beds, whence the burgh takes its name.
"Have a care, you scurvy old devil," cried the Captain, as a huge sea broke over the side of the boat, and christened him with its salt spray—"Easy there—where is your seamanship gone? ”

“ Every one allowed that they were the handsomest couple that almost ever stood before the hymeneal altar. And when all was done, the ring given, and the Earl took his young and lovely partner, all who beheld his tall and stately figure, whilst on his arm leaned his blushing bride, veiled in lace that enhanced the charms it could not hide—unable to contain their joy shouted, "God save the noble pair."
The Earl and Ellen, now Countess of Wentworth, then led the way to the drawing-room, where all her friends crowded round the young peeress, and wished her every joy. ”

“ Stretched lifeless, but beautiful in death, the hope of age, the joy of her husband, the kind, the generous—lay unheeding, but not unheeded. Kneeling at the couch's side, the Marquis hid his agony on his lifeless partner's bosom, and wept in uncontrolled grief. The fair Lady Florence, arrayed in her ball dress, wrung her hands and wept in wild despair, with her golden tresses all dishevelled, flowing over her lost sister. There were many other mourners, and no sound but the suppressed sobs of man, or the unconfined weeping of woman broke the gloom of the chamber of death. ”

“ A plan of terrible revenge entered my head. I knew it was the little Viscount, the only son of him who had wrought my misery: it was the work of a second, the thought suggested by the Evil One, and putting it into prompt action, like a boa I rushed on my prey, seized the child up in my arms, choked its cries with my kerchief, and dived into the copse-wood towards the burn, which was then swollen with flood: I then—"
"Hold!" said the Earl, "you were then the murderer of my eldest brother, and despite the consequences, you die for it."
He sprung up as if to wrestle with his foe. ”

“ Each in the flower of her age, each in the pride of his strength, has been remorselessly cut down by Death.
First the accomplished Edith, burned on the night of the wedding-ball of her brother; next the fair-haired Florence, broken-hearted at her young lover's death; then Frank, on the field of glory; then the terrible death of the Captain shocked us, and the self-wrought doom of the unhappy Edward L'Estrange, the hero of the book,—the unhappy, ill-starred man, who should have lived and died, as his happier brother the Earl lived and died. ”

“ Since then I have never felt aught save remorse, no desire to be better; prayer has frozen on my lips, I am a reprobate."
"You think too darkly. Oh! try and pray with me; resist the evil spirit, and he will flee from you."
The Countess knelt down beside the wretched man, and offered up a fervent prayer to heaven for him. He heard it with a cold, gloomy expression, and when she ceased, only said, "I cannot say amen; I tried, but it is impossible; believe me, Ellen, I am lost,—and, what is more, I mourn not my lost heaven. I want not paradise, but rest. ”

“ The Countess gave a last long embrace to Edith, kissed Florence, her father, brother, and sister, and then waving her hand to the other guests took her lord's arm, and hurried into the carriage amid a storm of satin shoes, bouquets, and blessings. The Earl's valet, and the Countess's lady's-maid leaped up behind, crack went the postilions' whips, round went the wheels, and the happy pair set off for Edinburgh, where they were to pass the first night, and soon after to start for the Villa Reale, at Naples, where they intended spending the honeymoon. ”

“ Ha! how often have I heard about Arthur de Vere, and his strange loss: little I thought it was I. And the Towers my own house, and you all brothers and sisters, and I have made some wretched, and slain my brother, and disgraced my race and name! Would God I had filled that little empty coffin I have seen in the vaults at Dun Edin Towers! Oh! if I had been drowned. Why did I live to become the monster of guilt I am?"
"It is useless to sigh over what is done; you must try and reform and make the future redeem the past. ”

“ Alas! my brave Captain, my true friend, thou art laid low by a felon hand! Thou wert a true brigand,—a bold, fearless leader,—and what art thou now? inanimate clay—soulless dust! Farewell, Luigi, foreigner though thou wert,—the pride of the banditti, the terror of the Capitanata, the scourge of the Abruzzi! Thou art lost now; dull is the eagle eye—cold the impassioned cheek—nerveless the strong arm—still the high heart. Woe to us now! Who shall lead our bands? who shall think, plan, fight, and divide the prey? Woe to the hand that spilt thy blood! We have lost our head to-day ”

“ No joy to look back on, no heaven to look forward to, I am a heartbroken man. I have been the dupe of others,—my crimes have been my misfortune rather than fault. I have no redeeming trait save love to you; can the guilty love the guiltless—the vile love the pure? my passion answers all, 'I loved the right, the wrong pursued.' I have been a bane to my family, I might have been a blessing! You forgive me, Ellen: it is all I want! ”

“ I shall never leave this dungeon: it is too late now. Mine has been a wayward fate, it will soon be over. I have been too black a criminal; I have long bade adieu to hope."
"Ah! say not so: you little know the power of grace. Sinners greater far than you have been washed and made clean; why should you despair?"
"Ellen, it is useless to speak thus; I tell you I am lost, eternally lost. Had my life been different, had you been what you might have been to me, it would have been far otherwise; but regrets are useless, you have come too late to save me from the reward of my crimes." ”

“ The Earl looked lovingly at his beautiful partner, thinking he had indeed found a good thing when he gained such a wife. The Marquis shrugged his shoulders, as if not much liking the turn of the conversation. The Countess arose, and left the room. When she was gone he again addressed the Earl:
"I say, Wentworth, it's uncommon rum to think, if that yarn is true, that L'Estrange was so much at his own house without knowing it! that you and he should have been after the same girl; and what made you the happiest of men, made him the most miserable." ”

“ I am captain, I will have my lawful captive, and," lifting his bright dagger, "now yield thee, give her up. I will be chief—nothing but death shall make me yield my authority."
"Then die!" cried L'Estrange, striking a back-blow at his enemy with his stiletto. It sunk beneath the blade of the Captain's right shoulder.
"Oh, God! you have killed me, villain! oh, God! I am done for!" ejaculated the unhappy man, as he sunk backwards. At the same instant a dozen gunshots rent the air, and the robbers were surrounded on every side by enemies. ”

“ Oh, Lady Florence,—dear Lady Florence, have pity on me!"
"I shall ever regard you as I have done, and still do, Mr. Ravensworth; no one could feel more sorry than I do. If I have awakened hopes I never dreamed of raising, it will read me a lesson to be more careful in future. I sincerely regret I cannot reciprocate your feelings;—may you meet some one who can, and who will make you happier than Florence de Vere!" ”

“ Ellen, Countess of Wentworth,
Aged 31 years.
She sleeps in peace!
On the lid a wreath of white roses has been placed, as a tribute of undying love, by Augusta. There is something bright in the death of such a being,—it is the birth into glory!
Let us next ascend the staircase, and, passing along the corridor, open the door of the Earl's room. Here another sad sight awaits us. On his dying bed, supported by pillows, he sits up, his two hands placed on Augusta's fair hair; she kneels beside her expiring parent, and weeps with wild despair. ”

“ But one thing I will promise him, and that is, he shall never know any difference in me,—except that by fonder love I will try my best to ameliorate his troubles."
"God bless you, Ellen!" said the Earl; "you have ever been my better angel."
"Oh, do not say so, Wentworth; after all I only do what it is my duty to do. Think you, when I took the solemn vows at my marriage they were empty words? I have loved you in health, and wealth, and happiness; and if a few dark days have occasionally interrupted the long career of pleasures, they have been few and far between. ”