Page:Peterson's Magazine 1842, Volume I.pdf/319

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74
THE LADY'S
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possession of whose heart my happiness, hath proved herself so utterly faithless !"

Lord Percy paused. From a small golden case, appended to his neck, he unclasped a miniature, and held it up so that the moonbeams might fall brightly upon it. It was the delineation of a very lovely face. The small, feminine head was thrown back somewhat disdainfully, and the proud chiselling of the delicate features told that she was one of England's aristocracy. A few bright curls lay lovingly on her fair cheek, and the whole picture breathed forth the spirit of beauty and stateliness.

As the young man gazed thereon , there came an unwonted glistening of the eye, and presently a large tear slowly forced its way down his pale cheek : " Fie on me !" he exclaimed, " I am grown a very woman in weakness ! —and yet, and yet I did so love thee, Madeline. I did so fondly treasure every kind word, every gentle action-and I proudly claimed thee my affianced bride. Heaven help thee, and forgive thee, faithless !-and even now, while in the deep forest I linger thus alone, where dost thou roam, Madeline ? Perchance in the lighted hall, amidst music and festivity, thou passest along smiling and glorying in thy beauty-a wondrous creature of loveliness. Are there no seasons of compunction, no moments of regret to shadow for an instant thy being's sky ? —or art thou forever a thoughtless and a heartless coquette, Madeline ?"

He covered his face with his hands and leaned heavily forward. Since the one dreadful hour of their parting he had cloaked his feeling with his pride, and his voice had been as clear, his step as firm, and his spirit as reckless as ever ; but there are moments when agony must vent itself, and suffering can remain pent up no longer. And such a moment had come to him now. Bitter and scalding drops fell slowly between his burning fingers, and his frame heaved with uncontrollable emotion. As scene by scene of happiness contrasted with misery, of the sunshine and the midnight, came home to this mind, more terrible grew the conflict. What were all past madness and sorrow- what were they to this ? It was a season of bitter and overwhelming agony, and yet it past. Gradually the dark clouds rolled from his spirit, and a calm, an unnatural calm, seemed to succeed them- the stillness of despair. Once more he drew his hands away from his face, and raised it to the placid moonlight. A moment may suffice to alter the whole current of the feelings, and leave the dreadful impress of the Sirocco upon the face. How fearfully changed was his. Madness and terrible agony- the whirlwind and the storm- had done their work of ravage well. An hour passed on. The weariness following the unwonted turmoil of mind, together with the incessant activity of a soldier's life, weighed down his eyelids, and

he leaned back against the projecting rock, and sank for awhile into a heavy slumber. The torturing images of his waking thoughts did not, at first, molest his dreams. Many a smile broke like sunshine upon his young lip, many a half-murmured sentence of fondness and joy attested a return of his long absent pleasant fancies. Thus ran his dreams : He was in a fine old park, the green and sloping grounds of his beloved Alnwick, and the sun of a bright day gleamed here and there, among the verdant shade, as the thick concave of green above was pierced by his effulgent rays. The perfume of many delicate and fragrant flowers was on the air, and birds of glorious plumage were trilling around him their most delicious notes. And there, in the gardens of his own home, Lord Percy roamed again, supporting on his arm that parent, who was the object of so many waking thoughts. No sorrow, no blight seemed to have visited him there, and life, to him, was full of joyful hope and gladness, Again- and he was in the presence of two fair girls, one his own dear sister, and the other his affianced bride. The name of Madeline was fondly breathed, and he bent his head to press the hand he held in his ; but when he looked again around him they were there alone, and she wore a haughty and careless look, and spoke words of cutting and bitter irony. And they parted ; she with a cold undimmed eye, and he in the fiery vehemence of passion and disappointment. The peaceful and quiet tenor of his dreams was gone. And now he stood under the vaulted roof of an old courtyard, caparisoned as for a hasty march. His steed was pawing by his side, his followers, with doffed caps, stood silently waiting his commands. And sorrowing kindred and friends were around him-the stateliest of England's nobility. His own white plume hung heavy on his brow, and none might know but him the stern sorrow of his own bosom ; yet, like his valorous and impetuous ancestor, with a cheering word and a gay farewell, all mockery as they were, he vaulted to his saddle, and away from his father's halls he sped. Then followed dim and indistinct visions of the deep blue sea, and a full-manned frigate ; of landing on a strange shore ; of midnight marches ; of bloody battles and burning villages ; the agonized look of many a childless mother, and many a fatherless child. Weeks, months, seemed to have elapsed, and he had almost forgotten those parting scenes amidst the increasing confusion of his vision. At last, as if by magic, the mist swept from before his eyes, and he was riding at the head of an armed band toward a scene of sanguinary conflict. It was in the full broad glare of noonday, and a gentle stream lay basking in the sun's rays. Around the forests, mighty and old , stretched their umbrageous foliage, and in an opening with a broad-swelling lawn before it, rose the walls of an