Preston Fight: or, The Insurrection of 1715. Ainsworth William Harrison
another hour! – when five minutes had been intolerable!
Rendered desperate by terror, she went back to the altar, and kneeling down once more, prayed for deliverance.
Becoming somewhat calmer, she felt ashamed of her weakness, and tried to persuade herself that the tapers might have gone out by accident. The notion gave her momentary courage.
But her fears returned with greater force than before as she heard a deep sigh, seemingly proceeding from some one close beside her, and she fancied she discerned a dusky figure.
“Who is there?” she cried. “Is it you holy father?”
No answer was returned, but a slight sound was heard, and the figure seemed to retreat.
She heard and saw no more.
Uttering a cry, she fell senseless at the foot of the altar, where she was found shortly afterwards by Father Norham and her mother.
The former having brought the lantern with him, her situation was perceived at once, and the prompt application of a smelling-bottle by Lady Webb quickly restored her to consciousness. She was able to walk back to the mansion, but begged not to be questioned as to the cause of her fright till the morrow, when she should have quite recovered from its effects.
XII. – A LETTER FROM THE EARL OF MAR
NEXT morning she related the mysterious occurrence to them both, but they treated it very lightly, though neither could understand how the tapers had been extinguished. All the rest they regarded as the effect of an over-excited imagination.
“No one could have entered the chapel,” remarked the priest. “I locked the door, and took the key with me. However, you must dismiss all these thoughts from your mind, daughter. To-day the chapel will present a very different appearance from what it did last night.”
“Yes – it will be the scene of your betrothal,” said Lady Webb.
“I would rather the ceremony took place elsewhere,” said Anna.
“It cannot be,” said Father Norham. “His lordship has arranged the matter. The prince will be present, and it would be a great disappointment to the household to be deprived of the sight.”
“It would also be a great disappointment to Sir John and myself,” observed Lady Webb. “Besides there are several guests in the Castle who ought not to be excluded. For many reasons, therefore, there must be no change in the plan.”
“Don’t say a word, mamma,” said Anna. “I am quite convinced. My objections were ridiculous. The morning is delightful, and a walk in the garden will set me quite right.”
“You will find Lord Derwentwater, his majesty, and almost all the company assembled on the lawn,” said Lady Webb. “Come, I will take you thither. Perhaps, Father Norham will accompany us.”
“With the greatest pleasure,” replied the priest.
On Anna’s appearance, Lord Derwentwater, who was standing with the company on the terrace, came forward to meet her; and as he approached, he remarked that she looked very pale. This did not detract from her beauty, but rather gave interest to her countenance – at least, in his eyes. He made some slight allusion to the circumstance, but she laughed it off.
Not much passed between them, for the prince presently came up to offer her his greetings, and by this time her cheek was flushed.
“I have news for you, fair lady,” said his highness, “and I desire to be the first to communicate it. I do not mean to rob you of your lover, so you may rest quite easy on that score. My proposed journey to London will not be undertaken. A messenger has just arrived at the castle bringing me a letter from the Earl of Mar, Secretary of State to Queen Anne. His lordship had engaged that I should see the queen, and led me to hope that great results would follow from the interview. These confident expectations are now at an end, and my project must be given up. Lord Mar writes that the queen, forgetful of her promises, refuses to receive me, and that if I should present myself at Saint James’s Palace, he will not answer for my safety. Under such circumstances, it would be madness to make the attempt It is well that I arranged with the Earl of Mar to write to me here, as if I had not heard from him, I should have started on the journey. What might then have befallen me I know not. Perchance, imprisonment in the Tower, in hope of compelling me to relinquish my pretentions to the crown – but that I never would have done.”
“Your majesty need not give us that assurance,” cried Anna. “But imprisonment would have been grievous, and might have disheartened your friends.”
“From the first I have been opposed to the scheme, as your majesty is aware,” said Lord Derwentwater; “and I cannot, therefore, affect to regret its abandonment.”
“I do not wonder you are better pleased to remain where you are, cousin,” said the prince.
“I shall be far better pleased if your majesty will decide upon summoning all your partisans to arms,” said the earl.
“Nothing would rejoice me more than to see ten thousand men assembled at the castle,” said Anna with increased enthusiasm, “and eager for their king to lead them on to victory. That is how I should like to see your majesty march to London – and Lord Derwentwater with you.”
“Ay, I will never be left behind,” cried the earl.
Fire lighted up the prince’s eyes as they spoke, but it faded away.
“It cannot be,” he said. “It cannot be.”
“What cannot be, my liege?” cried Anna, regarding him fixedly. “Not the insurrection? Not the march to London?”
“No,” he replied. “The Earl of Mar, in his letter counsels me to make no immediate movement.”
“For what reason?” demanded Lord Derwentwater in surprise.
“He gives no reason,” rejoined the prince. “But Lord Mar knows the feeling of the clans, and evidently deems the present juncture unpropitious to a rising.”
“I cannot tell what may be the state of the clans,” said Lord Derwentwater, scarcely able to repress his impatience; “but I am certain the opportunity is favourable in the North of England – as can soon be shown, if your majesty will give the signal.”
“I will not commit myself to any decisive step now, my lord,” said the prince, who when thus urged, seemed to shrink from the enterprise. “Nor do I think it will be prudent for me to remain here long.”
“What danger does your majesty apprehend?” cried the earl. “All are devoted to you. There are no traitors in the castle.”
“But I have many enemies in the country, and the Earl of Mar bids me ‘beware,’” said the prince.
“We will defend you against your enemies, my liege,” said Lord Derwentwater. “You need not fear them. Immediate preparations shall be made.”
“No haste is needful, cousin,” said the prince. “I have a strong guard enough,” he added, glancing at Colonel Oxburgh and his friends, who were standing at a little distance. “Let the day pass tranquilly – if it will. To-morrow we will consider what shall be done.”
“Heaven grant your majesty may change your mind in the interim!” observed Anna.
“If you exercise your powers of persuasion, fair lady, there is no saying what you may accomplish,” said the prince, gallantly.
At this moment a bell was heard, and Newbiggin came forth with two other servants in livery, and respectfully announced breakfast.
The prince offered his hand to Anna and led her to the house, and the rest of the party followed.
XIII. – THE BETROTHAL
A profuse breakfast, served in the good old style, awaited them in the dining-room. The sideboard groaned with the weight of huge cold joints, hams, tongues, and pasties; and broiled trout and salmon in abundance appeared on the table. How many good things there were besides in the shape of cutlets and omelettes, we cannot tell,