The Pirate
interrupt the course of their glee.
To the younger part of these revellers the presence of Mordaunt was like
a fresh charm of enjoyment. All came around him to marvel at his
absence, and all, by their repeated enquiries, plainly showed that they
conceived it had been entirely voluntary on his side. The youth felt
that this general acceptation relieved his anxiety on one painful point.
Whatever prejudice the family of Burgh-Westra might have adopted
respecting him, it must be of a private nature; and at least he had not
the additional pain of finding that he was depreciated in the eyes of
society at large; and his vindication, when he found opportunity to make
one, would not require to be extended beyond the circle of a single
family. This was consoling; though his heart still throbbed with anxiety
at the thought of meeting with his estranged, but still beloved friends.
Laying the excuse of his absence on his father's state of health, he
made his way through the various groups of friends and guests, each of
whom seemed willing to detain him as long as possible, and having, by
presenting them to one or two families of consequence, got rid of his
travelling companions, who at first stuck fast as burs, he reached at
length the door of a small apartment, which, opening from one of the
large exterior rooms we have mentioned, Minna and Brenda had been
permitted to fit up after their own taste, and to call their peculiar
property.
Mordaunt had contributed no small share of the invention and mechanical
execution employed in fitting up this favourite apartment, and in
disposing its ornaments. It was, indeed, during his last residence at
Burgh-Westra, as free to his entrance and occupation, as to its proper
mistresses. But now, so much were times altered, that he remained with
his finger on the latch, uncertain whether he should take the freedom to
draw it, until Brenda's voice pronounced the words, "Come in, then," in
the tone of one who is interrupted by an unwelcome disturber, who is to
be heard and dispatched with all the speed possible.
At this signal Mertoun entered the fanciful cabinet of the sisters,
which by the addition of many ornaments, including some articles of
considerable value, had been fitted up for the approaching festival. The
daughters of Magnus, at the moment of Mordaunt's entrance, were seated
in deep consultation with the stranger Cleveland, and with a little
slight-made old man, whose eye retained all the vivacity of spirit,
which had supported him under the thousand vicissitudes of a changeful
and precarious life, and which, accompanying him in his old age,
rendered his grey hairs less awfully reverend perhaps, but not less
beloved, than would a more grave and less imaginative expression of
countenance and character. There was even a penetrating shrewdness
mingled in the look of curiosity, with which, as he stepped for an
instant aside, he seemed to watch the meeting of Mordaunt with the two
lovely sisters.
The reception the youth met with resembled, in general character, that
which he had experienced from Magnus himself; but the maidens could not
so well cover their sense of the change of circumstances under which
they met. Both blushed, as, rising, and without extending the hand, far
less offering the cheek, as the fashion of the times permitted, and
almost exacted, they paid to Mordaunt the salutation due to an ordinary
acquaintance. But the blush of the elder was one of those transient
evidences of flitting emotion, that vanish as fast as the passing
thought which excites them. In an instant she stood before the youth
calm and cold, returning, with guarded and cautious courtesy, the usual
civilities, which, with a faltering voice, Mordaunt endeavoured to
present to her. The emotion of Brenda bore, externally at least, a
deeper and more agitating character. Her blush extended over every part
of her beautiful skin which her dress permitted to be visible, including
her slender neck, and the upper region of a finely formed bosom.
Neither did she even attempt to reply to what share of his confused
compliment Mordaunt addressed to her in particular, but regarded him
with eyes, in which displeasure was evidently mingled with feelings of
regret, and recollections of former times. Mordaunt felt, as it were,
assured upon the instant, that the regard of Minna was extinguished, but
that it might be yet possible to recover that of the milder Brenda; and
such is the waywardness of human fancy, that though he had never
hitherto made any distinct difference betwixt these two beautiful and
interesting girls, the favour of her, which seemed most absolutely
withdrawn, became at the moment the most interesting in his eyes.
He was disturbed in these hasty reflections by Cleveland, who advanced,
with military frankness, to pay his compliments to his preserver, having
only delayed long enough to permit the exchange of the ordinary
salutation betwixt the visitor and the ladies of the family. He made his
approach with so good a grace, that it was impossible for Mordaunt,
although he dated his loss of favour at Burgh-Westra from this
stranger's appearance on the coast, and domestication in the family, to
do less than return his advances as courtesy demanded, accept his thanks
with an appearance of satisfaction, and hope that his time had past
pleasantly since their last meeting.
Cleveland was about to answer, when he was anticipated by the little old
man, formerly noticed, who now thrusting himself forward, and seizing
Mordaunt's hand, kissed him on the forehead; and then at the same time
echoed and answered his question--"How passes time at Burgh-Westra? Was
it you that asked it, my prince of the cliff and of the scaur? How
should it pass, but with all the wings that beauty and joy can add to
help its flight!"
"And wit and song, too, my good old friend," said Mordaunt,
half-serious, half-jesting, as he shook the old man cordially by the
hand.--"These cannot be wanting, where Claud Halcro comes!"
"Jeer me not, Mordaunt, my good lad," replied the old man; "When your
foot is as slow as mine, your wit frozen, and your song out of tune"----
"How can you belie yourself, my good master?" answered Mordaunt, who was
not unwilling to avail himself of his old friend's peculiarities to
introduce something like conversation, break the awkwardness of this
singular meeting, and gain time for observation, ere requiring an
explanation of the change of conduct which the family seemed to have
adopted towards him. "Say not so," he continued. "Time, my old friend,
lays his hand lightly on the bard. Have I not heard you say, the poet
partakes the immortality of his song? and surely the great English poet,
you used to tell us of, was elder than yourself when he pulled the
bow-oar among all the wits of London."
This alluded to a story which was, as the French term it, Halcro's
_cheval de bataille_, and any allusion to which was certain at once to
place him in the saddle, and to push his hobby-horse into full career.
His laughing eye kindled with a sort of enthusiasm, which the ordinary
folk of this world might have called crazed, while he dashed into the
subject which he best loved to talk upon. "Alas, alas, my dear Mordaunt
Mertoun--silver is silver, and waxes not dim by use--and pewter is
pewter, and grows the longer the duller. It is not for poor Claud Halcro
to name himself in the same twelvemonth with the immortal John Dryden.
True it is, as I may have told you before, that I have seen that great
man, nay I have been in the Wits' Coffeehouse, as it was then called,
and had once a pinch out of his own very snuff-box. I must have told you
all how it happened, but here is Captain Cleveland who never heard
it.--I lodged, you must know, in Russel Street--I question not but you
know Russel Street, Covent Garden, Captain Cleveland?"
"I should know its latitude pretty well, Mr. Halcro," said the Captain,
smiling; "but I believe you mentioned the circumstance yesterday, and
besides we have the day's duty in hand--you must play us this song which
we are to study."
"It will not serve the turn now," said Halcro, "we must think of
something that will take in our dear Mordaunt, the first voice in the
island, whether for a part or solo. I will never be he will touch a
string to you, unless Mordaunt Mertoun is to help us out.--What say you,
my fairest Night?--what think you, my sweet Dawn of Day?" he added,
addressing the young women, upon whom, as we have said elsewhere, he had
long before bestowed these allegorical names.
"Mr. Mordaunt Mertoun," said Minna, "has come too late to be of our band
on this occasion--it is our misfortune, but it cannot be helped."
"How? what?" said Halcro, hastily--"too late--and you have practised
together all your lives? take my word, my bonny lasses, that old tunes
are sweetest, and old friends surest. Mr. Cleveland has a fine bass,
that must be allowed; but I would have you trust for the first effect to
one of the twenty fine airs you can sing where Mordaunt's tenor joins so
well with your own witchery--here is my lovely Day approves of the
change in her heart."
"You were never in your life more mistaken, father Halcro," said Brenda,
her cheeks again reddening, more with displeasure, it seemed, than with
shame.
"Nay, but how is this?" said the old man, pausing, and looking at them
alternately. "What have we got here?--a cloudy night and a red
morning?--that betokens rough weather.--What means all this, young
women?--where lies the offence?--In me, I fear; for the blame is always
laid upon the oldest when young folk like you go by the ears."
"The blame is not with you, father Halcro," said Minna, rising, and
taking her sister by the arm, "if indeed there be blame anywhere."
"I should fear then, Minna," said Mordaunt, endeavouring to soften his
tone into one of indifferent pleasantry, "that the new comer has brought
the offence along with him."
"When no offence is taken," replied Minna, with her usual gravity, "it
matters not by whom such may have been offered."
"Is it possible, Minna!" exclaimed Mordaunt, "and is it you who speak
thus to me?--And you too, Brenda, can you too judge so hardly of me, yet
without permitting me one moment of honest and frank explanation?"
"Those who should know best," answered Brenda, in a low but decisive
tone of voice, "have told us their pleasure, and it must be
done.--Sister, I think we have staid too long here, and shall be wanted
elsewhere--Mr. Mertoun will excuse us on so busy a day."
The sisters linked their arms together. Halcro in vain endeavoured to
stop them, making, at the same time, a theatrical gesture, and
exclaiming,
"Now, Day and Night, but this is wondrous strange!"
Then turned to Mordaunt Mertoun, and added--"The girls are possessed
with the spirit of mutability, showing, as our master Spenser well
saith, that
'Among all living creatures, more or lesse,
Change still doth reign, and keep the greater sway.'
Captain Cleveland," he continued, "know you any thing that has happened
to put these two juvenile Graces out of tune?"
"He will lose his reckoning," answered Cleveland, "that spends time in
enquiring why the wind shifts a point, or why a woman changes her mind.
Were I Mr. Mordaunt, I would not ask the proud wenches another question
on such a subject."
"It is a friendly advice, Captain Cleveland," replied Mordaunt, "and I
will not hold it the less so that it has been given unasked. Allow me to
enquire if you are yourself as indifferent to the opinion of your female
friends, as it seems you would have me to be?"
"Who, I?" said the Captain, with an air of frank indifference, "I never
thought twice upon such a subject. I never saw a woman worth thinking