The Pirate
voe, or salt-water lake, now lying full before them, its small
summer-waves glistening and rippling under the influence of a broad
moonlight, which, added to the strong twilight of those regions during
the summer solstice, left no reason to regret the absence of the sun,
the path of whose setting was still visible on the waves of the west,
while the horizon on the east side was already beginning to glimmer with
the lights of dawn.
Mordaunt had therefore no difficulty in keeping sight of his disguised
guide, as she tripped it over height and hollow to the sea-side, and,
winding among the rocks, led the way to the spot where his own labours,
during the time of his former intimacy at Burgh-Westra, had constructed
a sheltered and solitary seat, where the daughters of Magnus were
accustomed to spend, when the weather was suitable, a good deal of their
time. Here, then, was to be the place of explanation; for the masquer
stopped, and, after a moment's hesitation, sat down on the rustic
settle. But, from the lips of whom was he to receive it? Norna had first
occurred to him; but her tall figure and slow majestic step were
entirely different from the size and gait of the more fairy-formed
siren, who had preceded him with as light a trip as if she had been a
real Nereid, who, having remained too late upon the shore, was, under
the dread of Amphitrite's displeasure, hastening to regain her native
element. Since it was not Norna, it could be only, he thought, Brenda,
who thus singled him out; and when she had seated herself upon the
bench, and taken the mask from her face, Brenda it accordingly proved to
be. Mordaunt had certainly done nothing to make him dread her presence;
and yet, such is the influence of bashfulness over the ingenuous youth
of both sexes, that he experienced all the embarrassment of one who
finds himself unexpectedly placed before a person who is justly offended
with him. Brenda felt no less embarrassment; but as she had sought this
interview, and was sensible it must be a brief one, she was compelled,
in spite of herself, to begin the conversation.
"Mordaunt," she said, with a hesitating voice; then correcting herself,
she proceeded--"You must be surprised, Mr. Mertoun, that I should have
taken this uncommon freedom."
"It was not till this morning, Brenda," replied Mordaunt, "that any mark
of friendship or intimacy from you or from your sister could have
surprised me. I am far more astonished that you should shun me without
reason for so many hours, than that you should now allow me an
interview. In the name of Heaven, Brenda, in what have I offended you?
or why are we on these unusual terms?"
"May it not be enough to say," replied Brenda, looking downward, "that
it is my father's pleasure?"
"No, it is not enough," returned Mertoun. "Your father cannot have so
suddenly altered his whole thoughts of me, and his whole actions towards
me, without acting under the influence of some strong delusion. I ask
you but to explain of what nature it is; for I will be contented to be
lower in your esteem than the meanest hind in these islands, if I cannot
show that his change of opinion is only grounded upon some infamous
deception, or some extraordinary mistake."
"It may be so," said Brenda--"I hope it is so--that I do hope it is so,
my desire to see you thus in private may well prove to you. But it is
difficult--in short, it is impossible for me to explain to you the cause
of my father's resentment. Norna has spoken with him concerning it
boldly, and I fear they parted in displeasure; and you well know no
light matter could cause that."
"I have observed," said Mordaunt, "that your father is most attentive to
Norna's counsel, and more complaisant to her peculiarities than to those
of others--this I have observed, though he is no willing believer in the
supernatural qualities to which she lays claim."
"They are related distantly," answered Brenda, "and were friends in
youth--nay, as I have heard, it was once supposed they would have been
married; but Norna's peculiarities showed themselves immediately on her
father's death, and there was an end of that matter, if ever there was
any thing in it. But it is certain my father regards her with much
interest; and it is, I fear, a sign how deeply his prejudices respecting
you must be rooted, since they have in some degree quarrelled on your
account."
"Now, blessings upon you, Brenda, that you have called them prejudices,"
said Mertoun, warmly and hastily--"a thousand blessings on you! You were
ever gentle-hearted--you could not have maintained even the show of
unkindness long."
"It was indeed but a show," said Brenda, softening gradually into the
familiar tone in which they had conversed from infancy; "I could never
think, Mordaunt,--never, that is, seriously believe, that you could say
aught unkind of Minna or of me."
"And who dares to say I have?" said Mordaunt, giving way to the natural
impetuosity of his disposition--"Who dares to say that I have, and
ventures at the same time to hope that I will suffer his tongue to
remain in safety betwixt his jaws? By Saint Magnus the Martyr, I will
feed the hawks with it!"
"Nay, now," said Brenda, "your anger only terrifies me, and will force
me to leave you."
"Leave me," said he, "without telling me either the calumny, or the name
of the villainous calumniator!"
"O, there are more than one," answered Brenda, "that have possessed my
father with an opinion--which I cannot myself tell you--but there are
more than one who say"----
"Were they hundreds, Brenda, I will do no less to them than I have
said--Sacred Martyr!--to accuse me of speaking unkindly of those whom I
most respected and valued under Heaven--I will back to the apartment
this instant, and your father shall do me right before all the world."
"Do not go, for the love of Heaven!" said Brenda; "do not go, as you
would not render me the most unhappy wretch in existence!"
"Tell me then, at least, if I guess aright," said Mordaunt, "when I name
this Cleveland for one of those who have slandered me?"
"No, no," said Brenda, vehemently, "you run from one error into another
more dangerous. You say you are my friend:--I am willing to be
yours:--be but still for a moment, and hear what I have to say;--our
interview has lasted but too long already, and every additional moment
brings additional danger with it."
"Tell me, then," said Mertoun, much softened by the poor girl's extreme
apprehension and distress, "what it is that you require of me; and
believe me, it is impossible for you to ask aught that I will not do my
very uttermost to comply with."
"Well, then--this Captain," said Brenda, "this Cleveland"----
"I knew it, by Heaven!" said Mordaunt; "my mind assured me that that
fellow was, in one way or other, at the bottom of all this mischief and
misunderstanding!"
"If you cannot be silent, and patient, for an instant," replied Brenda,
"I must instantly quit you: what I meant to say had no relation to you,
but to another,--in one word, to my sister Minna. I have nothing to say
concerning her dislike to you, but an anxious tale to tell concerning
his attention to her."
"It is obvious, striking, and marked," said Mordaunt; "and, unless my
eyes deceive me, it is received as welcome, if, indeed, it is not
returned."
"That is the very cause of my fear," said Brenda. "I, too, was struck
with the external appearance, frank manners, and romantic conversation
of this man."
"His appearance!" said Mordaunt; "he is stout and well-featured enough,
to be sure; but, as old Sinclair of Quendale said to the Spanish
admiral, 'Farcie on his face! I have seen many a fairer hang on the
Borough-moor.'--From his manners, he might be captain of a privateer;
and by his conversation, the trumpeter to his own puppetshow; for he
speaks of little else than his own exploits."
"You are mistaken," answered Brenda; "he speaks but too well on all that
he has seen and learned; besides, he has really been in many distant
countries, and in many gallant actions, and he can tell them with as
much spirit as modesty. You would think you saw the flash and heard the
report of the guns. And he has other tones of talking too--about the
delightful trees and fruits of distant climates; and how the people wear
no dress, through the whole year, half so warm as our summer gowns, and,
indeed, put on little except cambric and muslin."
"Upon my word, Brenda, he does seem to understand the business of
amusing young ladies," replied Mordaunt.
"He does, indeed," said Brenda, with great simplicity. "I assure you
that, at first, I liked him better than Minna did; and yet, though she
is so much cleverer than I am, I know more of the world than she does;
for I have seen more of cities, having been once at Kirkwall; besides
that I was thrice at Lerwick, when the Dutch ships were there, and so I
should not be very easily deceived in people."
"And pray, Brenda," said Mertoun, "what was it that made you think less
favourably of this young fellow, who seems to be so captivating?"
"Why," said Brenda, after a moment's reflection, "at first he was much
livelier; and the stories he told were not quite so melancholy, or so
terrible; and he laughed and danced more."
"And, perhaps, at that time, danced oftener with Brenda than with her
sister?" added Mordaunt.
"No--I am not sure of that," said Brenda; "and yet, to speak plain, I
could have no suspicion of him at all while he was attending quite
equally to us both; for you know that then he could have been no more to
us than yourself, Mordaunt Mertoun, or young Swaraster, or any other
young man in the islands."
"But, why then," said Mordaunt, "should you not see him, with patience,
become acquainted with your sister?--He is wealthy, or seems to be so at
least. You say he is accomplished and pleasant;--what else would you
desire in a lover for Minna?"
"Mordaunt, you forget who we are," said the maiden, assuming an air of
consequence, which sat as gracefully upon her simplicity, as did the
different tone in which she had spoken hitherto. "This is a little world
of ours, this Zetland, inferior, perhaps, in soil and climate to other
parts of the earth, at least so strangers say; but it is our own little
world, and we, the daughters of Magnus Troil, hold a first rank in it.
It would I think, little become us, who are descended from Sea-kings
and Jarls, to throw ourselves away upon a stranger, who comes to our
coast, like the eider-duck in spring, from we know not whence, and may
leave it in autumn, to go we know not where."
"And who may yet entice a Zetland golden-eye to accompany his
migration," said Mertoun.
"I will hear nothing light on such a subject," replied Brenda,
indignantly; "Minna, like myself, is the daughter of Magnus Troil, the
friend of strangers, but the Father of Hialtland. He gives them the
hospitality they need; but let not the proudest of them think that they
can, at their pleasure, ally with his house."
She said this in a tone of considerable warmth, which she instantly
softened, as she added, "No, Mordaunt, do not suppose that Minna Troil
is capable of so far forgetting what she owes to her father and her
father's blood, as to think of marrying this Cleveland; but she may lend
an ear to him so long as to destroy her future happiness. She has that
sort of mind, into which some feelings sink deeply;--you remember how
Ulla Storlson used to go, day by day, to the top of Vossdale-head, to
look for her lover's ship that was never to return? When I think of her
slow step, her pale cheek, her eye, that grew dimmer and dimmer, like
the lamp that is half extinguished for lack of oil,--when I remember the
fluttered look, of something like hope, with which she ascended the