destruction; while, with an unearthly tone, she uttered these words:—
The phantom stooped over me as she spoke, and lowered her gory fingers, as if to touch my face, when, terror giving me the power of which it at first deprived me, I screamed aloud—the casement of the apartment was thrown open with a loud noise,—and—But what signifies my telling all this to thee, Rose, who show so plainly, by the movement of eye and lip, that you consider me as a silly and childish dreamer?'
'Be not angry, my dear lady,' said Rose; 'I do indeed believe that the witch we call Mara[21] has been dealing with you; but she, you know, is by leeches considered as no real phantom, but solely the creation of our own imagination, disordered by causes which arise from bodily indisposition.'
'Thou art learned, maiden,' said Eveline, rather peevishly; 'but when I assure thee that my better angel came to my assistance in a human form.—that at his appearance the fiend vanished—and that he transported me in his arms out of the chamber of terror, I think thou wilt, as a good Christian, put more faith in that which I tell you.'
'Indeed, indeed, my sweetest mistress, I cannot,' replied Rose. 'It is even that circumstance of the guardian angel which makes me consider the whole as a dream. A Norman sentinel, whom I myself called from his post on purpose, did indeed come to your assistance, and, breaking into your apartment, transported you to that where I myself received you from his arms in a lifeless condition.'
'A Norman soldier, ha!' said Eveline, colouring extremely; 'and to whom, maiden, did you dare give commission to break into my sleeping chamber?'
'Your eyes flash anger, madam, but is it reasonable they should?— Did I not hear your screams of agony, and was I to stand fettered by ceremony at such a moment?—no more than if the castle had been on fire.'
'I ask you again, Rose,' said her mistress, still with discomposure, though less angrily than at first, 'whom you directed to break into my apartment?'
'Indeed, I know not, lady,' said Rose; 'for beside that he was muffled in his mantle, little chance was there of my knowing his features, even had I seen them fully. But I can soon discover the cavalier; and I will set about it, that I may give him the reward I promised, and warn him to be silent and discreet in this matter.'
'Do so,' said Eveline; 'and if you find him among those soldiers who attend us, I will indeed lean to thine opinion, and think that fantasy had the chief share in the evils I have endured the last night.'
Rose struck her palfrey with the rod, and, accompanied by her mistress, rode up to Philip Guarine, the Constable's squire, who for the present commanded their little escort. 'Good Guarine,' she said, 'I had talk with one of these sentinels last night from my window, and he did me some service, for which I promised him recompense—Will you inquire for the man, that I may pay him his guerdon?'
'Truly, I will owe him a guerdon, also, pretty maiden,' answered the squire; 'for if a lance of them approached near enough the house to hold speech from the windows, he transgressed the precise orders of his watch.'
'Tush! you must forgive that for my sake,' said Rose. 'I warrant, had I called on yourself, stout Guarine, I should have had influence to bring you under my chamber window.'
Guarine laughed, and shrugged his shoulders. 'True it is,' he said, 'when women are in place, discipline is in danger.'
He then went to make the necessary inquiries among his band, and returned with the assurance, that his soldiers, generally and severally, denied having approached the mansion of the Lady Ermengarde on the preceding night.
'Thou seest, Rose,' said Eveline, with a significant look to her attendant.
'The poor rogues are afraid of Guarine's severity,' said Rose, 'and dare not tell the truth—I shall have some one in private claiming the reward of me.'
'I would I had the privilege myself, damsel,' said Guarine; 'but for these fellows, they are not so timorous as you suppose them, being even too ready to avouch their roguery when it hath less excuse—Besides, I promised them impunity.—Have you any thing farther to order?'
'Nothing, good Guarine,' said Eveline; 'only this small donative to procure wine for thy soldiers, that they may spend the next night more merrily than the last.—And now he is gone,—Maiden, thou must, I think, be now well aware, that what thou sawest was no earthly being?'
'I must believe mine own ears and eyes, madam,' replied Rose.
'Do—but allow me the same privilege,' answered Eveline. 'Believe me that my deliverer (for so I must call him) bore the features of one who neither was, nor could be, in the neighbourhood of Baldringham. Tell me but one thing—What dost thou think of this extraordinary prediction—
Thou wilt say it is an idle invention of my brain—but think it for a moment the speech of a true diviner, and what wouldst thou say of it?'
'That you may be betrayed, my dearest lady, but never can be a betrayer,' answered Rose, with animation.
Eveline reached her hand out to her friend, and as she pressed affectionately that which Rose gave in return, she whispered to her with energy, 'I thank thee for the judgment, which my own heart confirms.'
A cloud of dust now announced the approach of the Constable of Chester and his retinue, augmented by the attendance of his host Sir William Herbert, and some of his neighbours and kinsmen, who came to pay their respects to the orphan of the Garde Doloureuse, by which appellation Eveline was known upon her passage through their territory.
Eveline remarked, that, at their greeting, De Lacy looked with displeased surprise at the disarrangement of her dress and equipage, which her hasty departure from Baldringham had necessarily occasioned; and she was, on her part, struck with an expression of countenance which seemed to say, 'I am not to be treated as an ordinary person, who may be received with negligence, and treated slightly with impunity.' For the first time, she thought that, though always deficient in grace and beauty, the Constable's countenance was formed to express the more angry passions with force and vivacity, and that she who shared his rank and name must lay her account with the implicit surrender of her will and wishes to those of an arbitrary lord and master.
But the cloud soon passed from the Constable's brow; and in the conversation which he afterwards maintained with Herbert and the other knights and gentlemen, who from time to time came to greet and accompany them for a little way on their journey, Eveline had occasion to admire his superiority, both of sense and expression, and to remark the attention and deference with which his words were listened to by men too high in rank, and too proud, readily to admit any pre-eminence that was not founded on acknowledged merit. The regard of women is generally much influenced by the estimation which an individual maintains in the opinion of men; and Eveline, when she concluded her journey in the Benedictine nunnery in Gloucester, could not think without respect upon the renowned warrior, and celebrated politician, whose acknowledged abilities appeared to place him above every one whom she had seen approach him. His wife, Eveline thought, (and she was not without ambition,) if relinquishing some of those qualities in a husband which are in youth most captivating to the female imagination, must be still generally honoured and respected, and have contentment, if not romantic felicity, within her reach.
