Bungay Castle: A Novel. v. 1. Bonhote Elizabeth
which I hope will be of service.
"And tomorrow night, at about this time, you may expect us again, (said Edwin.) I hope your master will then have shaken off this death-like slumber, and be able to converse with us."
"Perhaps he may, (replied Albert, the name of this faithful servant;) but he never talks much. I had taught him to read, but they took away our books, and since that time I am afraid he has lost the remembrance of the little knowledge he had of reading. He has lately learned to play a few simple tunes on the lute, – that sometimes amuses him."
"We will bring you some books, (said Roseline,) and surely, Edwin, you and I can assist Albert in the delightful task of restoring by friendship what has been lost by cruelty."
Albert informed them they were regularly served with their meals, but never saw the person who brought them, all intercourse with any one being forbidden, to prevent the possibility of discovery or escape; but, he said, they had better food and more indulgences than had been allowed them in their former prison, which consisted only of one room.
The party now retired with the utmost caution, lest they should disturb the apparently-peaceful slumbers of the prisoner, and deprive him of his only refuge from misery.
Before they parted, Roseline and her brother, actuated by the same generous feelings in behalf of this unfortunate young man, and his equally unfortunate companion, satisfied, should there be found any thing in their conduct to condemn, (which they could not bring themselves to think,) in their present situation there was much to pity, resolved to unite in their endeavours of relieving their miseries, and softening the rigours of a confinement, of which they knew not the cause; but they were told, the object who had most excited their compassion was innocent, and therefore they determined to think him so till his own conduct, or an explanation from any other quarter, proved him otherwise. It is true, they had nothing on which to found their belief but the word of a stranger, and him they found in the humble capacity of a servant; but, though a stranger, he had, by his simple, modest, and unaffected language, given ample proofs in their opinion of his sincerity.
They now left the cells, and retired instantly to bed, – dreamed of the prisoner, and sometimes imagined they could distinguish his groans; in fact, they thought and talked of him, and him only.
Early in the morning, Roseline carried every little nicety she could procure, and left them at the foot of the stairs, – then hurried back to her room, not daring to stop and make inquiries, lest the person who supplied the object of her pity with his daily food should discover and betray her benevolent designs.
Madeline was now making a rapid progress in her recovery, and was every hour in fear of receiving a summons from the abbess to return to the nunnery. Edwin participated in all her fears, and lamented, in the language of tender affection, the cruel necessity which compelled her to leave the castle, protesting neither walls nor vows should long divide them, and swearing to release her from a situation, which, though sanctioned by religion, only bigotry, superstition, and priestcraft, could justify; which he knew would not only destroy all his prospects of happiness, but, as he could not disbelieve the fascinating hopes he had not absolutely been forbidden to cherish, the happiness also of a beloved object, dearer to him than life, without whom fortune, honour, prosperity, and youth, would be robbed of all their value.
The next day, accompanied by Bertrand, Edwin stole by another entrance into the lower recesses of the castle, not mentioning a word of the prisoner, and carefully avoiding that quarter in which he was confined. They first explored the subterraneous passage, leading to the nunnery, and found fewer impediments in their way than they expected. They easily gained an entrance into the chapel, having fixed upon an hour when they knew all the fathers and nuns would be engaged in their cells. They found the opening under the organ, and in that part of the chapel appropriated to the use of the nuns, the door being concealed from observation by a very curious tomb, belonging to the ancient family of De G – .
They entered next the passage leading to Mettingham-castle, and determined to see the whole of it. Here they met with many difficulties: in some places huge stones had fallen from the walls, – in others the arch-way was so low they were almost obliged to crawl, – while toads, snakes, and various kinds of reptiles impeded their progress; when, at length, they reached the end of this wonderful labyrinth, the production of labour and art, they found themselves close to the ballium of Mettingham-castle, and under a strong machiolated and embattled gate.
They now discovered another short passage, which was terminated by a door that opened to the outer ballium, and through which the cavalry could sally in any case of emergency. They ventured cautiously to look around them. Edwin's mind, however, was chiefly occupied by one dear object, and he secretly rejoiced at having found the means of escaping with Madeline, should the obstinacy of her parents, or the ambition of his own, leave him no other resource.
He likewise, in the course of the day, but unaccompanied by any one, opened the door on the stair-case leading to the South tower. He felt a kind of repugnance at taking this step, but determined, as matters were now circumstanced, to go through the whole of this unpleasant business at once, that nothing might be left to conjecture. He also recollected that it would not only put an end to that restless curiosity which had long dwelt upon his mind, but enable him to judge whether it would be possible to remove the dying prisoner into a more airy and convenient room, without the hazard of a discovery.
This wind of the castle he knew was totally unoccupied, as in his boyish days he had frequently, and at all times gone that way to the ramparts to lodge his playthings in a secret apartment in one of the highest towers, and never in his peregrination had met with a human being.
On attempting first to open the door, he was a good deal startled at the noise it occasioned, and was almost buried beneath the heap of cobwebs and dirt which fell and enveloped him in a cloud of dust. – Some birds too, that had here found a sage asylum, flew in terror around him. Not willing to disturb them more than was necessary, he unfastened a narrow casement, to give those opportunity of escaping who wished to obtain their liberty. He then stole softly and cautiously across the room to an opposite door, which opened without any difficulty, and he entered a second apartment, much larger and more commodious than the first. It was hung with ancient tapestry, on which time and moth had made many depredations; but, in some parts of it, the full-length figures remained perfect, and the colours retained some of their beautiful shades. He soon discovered that it represented the most striking and interesting scenes in the well-known history of Hero and Leander, from his first seeing her, in the temple of Venus, at Seftos, in Thrace, till the last closing scene of their unfortunate loves.
The figures of the lovers were fine, and in excellent preservation, and the tapestry was of so superior a kind, that it gave as full force and expression to the faces and drapery as the finest painting could have conveyed. The temple, the palace, the turret, and the Hellespont, upon whose waves the rising and setting sun were alternately reflected, with the downy swan, in snowy dignity, which was seen laving on its bosom were admirably depicted.
The nurse, or attendant of the faithful Hero stood at full length on the edge of the water, which gently undulated near the walls of the palace, pointing to the waves, and as if in the act of telling her fond, impatient mistress her lover was coming, while she, with modest sweetness, seemed fearful of stealing a look at the element which contained a treasure dearer to her soul that the whole of her ambitious father's dominions.
In another part, he saw the lifeless body of Leander, and the despairing Hero in the act of throwing herself into the Hellespont, which had unfortunately proved the grave of her lover.
Edwin stood a long time, silently admiring this pathetic tale: it had an instantaneous effect upon his feelings; it served to remind him of the difficulties he should have to encounter in his attachment to Madeline, and he could have kissed the senseless portrait of the old Egyptian woman for her kind and faithful attentions to the persecuted lovers.
In the middle of the room stood a square table, on which were carelessly spread a number of papers. Four massy silver candlesticks were likewise placed upon it, each of which contained a wax-candle, that had never been lighted, and an old writing, to which was annexed a vast many seals, laid folded up under them.
This he concluded was the mystic bond