Under the Red Dragon: A Novel
the deep, or, it might be, cast mutilated on the shore; and she looked
so beautiful and helpless as she clung to me now, clasping my right
arm with all her energy, her head half reclined upon my shoulder, and
the passing spray mingling with her tears upon her cheek. "The
drowning man is said to be confronted by a ghostly panorama of his
whole life." It may be so generally; but then I had only the horror of
losing Estelle, whom I loved so tenderly. We were now together and
alone, so completely, suddenly, and terribly alone, it might be for
life or for death--the former short indeed, and the latter swift and
sudden, if the boat upset, or we were washed out of it into the sea;
and yet in that time of peril she possessed more than ever for me that
wondrous and undefinable charm and allurement which every man finds in
the woman he loves, and in her only.
"God spare us and help us!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Hardinge, I am filled
with unutterable fear;" and then she added, unconsciously quoting some
poet, "I find the thought of death, to one near death, most dreadful!"
"With you, Estelle, love might make it indeed a joy to die!" I
exclaimed, with a gush of enthusiasm and tenderness that, but for the
terrible situation, had been melodramatic.
"I did not think that you loved me so," said she, after a little
pause; and my arm now encircled her waist, while something of an
invocation to heaven rose to my lips, and I repeated,
"Not think that I loved you! Do not be coquettishly unwilling to
admit what you must know, that since that last happy night in London
you have never been absent from my thoughts; and here, Estelle, dear,
dear Estelle, when menaced by a grave amid these waters, I tell you
that I loved you from the first moment that I knew you! Death stares
us in the face, but tell me truly that you--that you--"
"Love you in return? I do, indeed, dear Harry!" she sobbed, and then
her beloved face, chilled and damp with tears and spray, came close to
mine.
"God bless you, O my darling, for this avowal!" said I in a thick
voice, and even the terrors of our position could not damp the glow of
my joy.
In all my waking dreams of her had Estelle seemed beautiful; but never
so much so as now, when I seemed on the eve of losing her for ever,
and my own life, too; when each successive wave that rolled in inky
blackness towards us might tear her from my clasp! How easily under
some circumstances do we learn the language of passion! and now, while
clasping her fast with one arm, as with both of hers she clung to me,
I pressed her to my breast, and told her again and again how fondly I
loved her, while--as it were in a dream, a portion of a nightmare--our
boat, now filling fast with water, was tossed madly to and fro. And
like a dream, too, it seemed, the fact that I had her all to
myself--for life or death, as it were--this brilliant creature so
loved by many, so prized by all, and hitherto apparently so
unattainable; she who, by a look, a glance, a smile, by a flirt of her
fan, by the dropping of a glove, or the gift of a flower, selected
with point from her bouquet, had held my soul in thrall by all the
delicious trifles that make up the sum and glory of love to the lover
who is young. And where were we now? Alone on the dark, and ere long
it was the midnight, sea! Alone, and with me; I who had so long eyed
her lovingly and longingly, even as Schön Rohtrant, the German king's
daughter, was gazed at and loved by the handsome page, who dared not
to touch or kiss her till he gathered courage one day, as the ballad
tells us, when they were under a shady old oak.
"If God spares us to see her," said Lady Estelle, "what will mamma
think of this terrible _fiasco_ of ours?"
While Estelle loved me, I felt that I did not care very much for the
dowager's views of the matter, especially at that precise moment. When
on _terra firma_ there would be sufficient time to consider them.
"And you are mine, darling?" said I, tenderly.
"I am yours, Harry, and yours only."
"Never shall I weary of hearing this admission; but the rumour of an
engagement to Lord Pottersleigh?'
"Absurd! It has grown out of his dangling after me and mamma's wish,
as I won't have my cousin Naseby."
"And you do not hold yourself engaged--"
"Save to you, Harry, and you alone."
And as her head again sank upon my shoulder, her pride and my doubts
fled together; but now a half-stifled shriek escaped her, as the frail
boat was nearly overturned by a larger wave than usual, which struck
it on the counter. We were drenched and chilled, so ours was, indeed,
love-making under difficulties; and the time, even with her reclining
in my arms, passed slowly. How many a prayer and invocation, all too
deep for utterance, rose to my lips for her! The hours drew on. Would
day never dawn? With all the sweet but now terrible companionship of
love--for it was love combined with gloomy danger--this was our utmost
craving.
The new moon, as she rose pale and sharp, like a silver sickle, from
the Irish Sea, when the fog began to disperse, tipped for a little
time with light the wave-tops as they rose or sank around us; but
clouds soon enveloped her again; and when the tide turned, the sea ran
inward, and broke wildly on the tremendous headlands of the coast.
That our boat was not swamped seemed miraculous; but it was very
buoyant, being entirely lined with cork, and had air-tight
compartments under the seats. A gray streak at the far horizon had
spread across a gap of pale green, announcing that the short August
night was past, and rapidly it broadened and brightened into day,
while crimson and gold began to tip the wave-tops with a fiery hue,
the whole ocean seeming to be mottled, as it were; and I could see the
coast-line, as we were not quite a mile from it. In the distance were
plainly visible the little town of Abergele, and those hills where
Castell Cawr and the Cefn Ogo are, tinged with pink, as they rose
above the white vapour that rolled along the shore.
The more distant mountain ranges seemed blue and purple against a sky
where clouds of pearly-pink were floating. Estelle was exhausted now.
Her pallor added to my misery. So many hours of pitiless exposure had
proved too much for her strength, and with her eyes closed she lay
helpless in my arms, while wave after wave was now impelling us
shoreward, and, most happily it would seem, towards a point where the
rocks opened and the water shoaled. One enormous breaker,
white-crested and overarching, came rolling upon us. A gasp, a mutual
cry to heaven, half-stifled by the bitter spray, and then the mighty
volume of it engulfed us and our boat. We had a momentary sense of
darkness and blindness, a sound as of booming thunder mingled with the
clangour of bells in our ears, and something of the feeling of being
swept by an express train through a tunnel filled with water, for we
were fairly under the latter; but I clung to the boat with one hand
and arm, while the other went round Estelle with a death-like embrace,
that prevented her from being swept or torn from me.
For some moments I knew not whether we were on the land or in the sea;
but, though stunned by the shock, I acted mechanically. Then I
remember becoming conscious of rising through the pale-green water, of
inhaling a long breath, a gasping respiration, and of seeing the
sunshine on the waves. Another shock came, and we were flung on the
flat or sloping beach, to be there left by the receding sea. Instead
of in that place, had we been dashed against the impending rocks
elsewhere, all had then been over with us. I still felt that my right
arm was clasped around Estelle; but she was motionless, breathless,
and still; and though a terror that she was dead oppressed me, a
torpor that I could not resist spread over all my faculties, and I
sank into a state of perfect unconsciousness.
CHAPTER XVI.--THE SECRET ENGAGEMENT.
In making a circuit of his farm on the morning after the storm, Farmer
Rhuddlan, while traversing a field that was bounded by a strip of the
sea shore, on which the ebbing surf still rolled heavily, was very
much scared to find lying there, and to all appearance but recently
cast up from the ocean, among starfish, weed, and wreck, an officer in
full dress, and a lady (in what had been an elegant demi-toilette of
blue silk and fine lace), fair and most delicately white, but
drenched, sodden, and to all appearance, as he thought,
"dearanwyl--drowned"--as she was quite motionless, with her beautiful
dark hair all dishevelled and matted among the sand.
He knew me--in fact, he had known me since boyhood, having caught me
many a time in his orchard at Craig Eryri--and thought he recognized
the lady. Moreover, he had heard of the search overnight, and lost no
time in spurring his fat little cob in quest of succour. Some
wondering rustics promptly came from a neighbouring barnyard, and by
the time they arrived, Estelle and I had recovered consciousness, and
struggled into a sitting position on some stones close by, whence we
were beginning to look about us.
A benumbed sensation and total lack of power in my right arm warned me
that an accident had occurred, and I endeavoured to conceal the
circumstance from Estelle, but in vain; for when murmuring some thanks
to God for our preservation, she suddenly lifted her face from my
breast, and exclaimed, "You cannot move this arm! You have been hurt,
darling! Tell me about it--speak!"
"I think it is broken, Estelle," said I, with a smile; for while I
felt something almost of pleasure in the conviction that I had
undergone this in saving her, thereby giving me a greater title to her
interest and sympathy, I could not forget my short leave from
Winchester, the war at hand, the regiment already abroad, and the
active duties that were expected of me.
"Broken?" she repeated, in a faint voice.
"My sword-arm--on the eve of marching for foreign service. Awkward,
isn't it?"
"Awkward! O Harry, it is horrible! And all this has occurred through
me and my childish folly!"
"One arm is at your service, dearest, still," said I, while placing it
round her, and assisting her to rise, as the kind old farmer returned
with his people, joyful to find that we were living, after all, and
that by assisting us he might in some degree repay Sir Madoc Lloyd a
portion of that debt of gratitude which he owed to him.
After despatching a mounted messenger to Craigaderyn with tidings of
our safety, he had us at once conveyed to his farm-house at Craig
Eryri, where dry clothing was given us, and a doctor summoned to
attend me.
"You knew that we were missing--lost?" said I.
"Too well, sir," replied the farmer, as he produced a brandy-bottle
from an ancient oak cupboard. "With all my lads I assisted in the
search," he continued in Welsh, as he could scarcely speak a word of
English. "A gentleman came here over night with a groom, both mounted,
to spread the news of you and a lady having been lost somewhere below
the Bôd Mynach."
"A gentleman mounted--Mr. Caradoc, perhaps?"
"Caradoc is one of ourselves," said the farmer, his keen eyes
twinkling; "this one was a Sassenach--he Sir Madoc gave that lovely
ring to, with a diamond as big as a horse-bean, for winning a race at
Chester."
"O, Mr. Guilfoyle."
"Yes, sir, that is his name, I believe," replied Rhuddlan; and despite
the gnawing agony of my arm I laughed outright, for the quondam German
_attaché_ would seem to have actually found time to relate something
new about his brilliant to the simple old farmer, and while the fate
of Lady Estelle was yet a mystery. As for _mine_, I shrewdly suspected
he cared little about that.
Attired by the farmer's wife in the best clothing with which she could