University of Virginia Library

18. CHAPTER XVIII.
AN ADVENTURE.

Edward's estate was in the neighbourhood of
the romantick vale of Keswick. The mansion house
lately inhabited by his uncle, was an old fashioned
but comfortable house situated on the southern declivity
of the mountain Skiddaw, with a beautiful
garden and extensive but uneven grounds, laid out in
a style entirely suited to the surrounding scenery.
The view from the balcony, in front of the house,
was one of singular beauty and sublimity. A long
valley stretched away to the south disclosing in the
distance the still glassy surface of Derwent-water
and terminated by the bold and fantastic mountains
of Borrowdale. On the east the lofty steeps of

Wallow-crag and Lodore seemed to pierce the very
heavens, whilst the towering heights of Newland
bounded the view on the West, displaying the picturesque
varieties of mountain foliage and rocks.

The cottages and farm houses of his tenants were
scattered about in such points of view, as to afford
a pleasing sort of embellishment to the landscape.
Many of them were constructed of rough unhewn
stone, and roofed with thick slates, and both the
coverings and sides of the houses were not unfrequently
overgrown with lichens and mosses as well
as surrounded with larches and sycamores. Edward
made it his first business, on his arrival, to visit his
tenantry and he found no little pleasure in studying
the characters of these humble minded people,
whose residence amongst these sequestered mountain
regions had preserved their primitive manners from
the tide of refinement and corruption which had
swept over less fortunate portions of the country.

As he was taking his customary ride on horseback
one afternoon, he arrived at a part of his estate
remote from the mansion house, and where he had
not before been, when he was struck with the picturesque
appearance of one of the stone cottages
which we have mentioned above.

It was of a very irregular shape and seemed to
have received additions and improvements from
several generations of its occupants.

The orchard too had its trees of all ages, and
one craggy looking apple tree, which stood before
the door, seemed by its accumulation of moss, and
its frequently protruded dry branches, to be coeval

with the house itself. There was a little garden
with its shed full of bee hives, and its narrow beds
of herbs and borders of flowers, and a small but
noisy rill, that came dashing down from the rocks in
the rear of the cottage, and sent a smile of verdure
and a fairy shout of melody over the whole scene.

Edward alighted and entered the cottage, where
he was received with a hearty welcome. The
farmer himself was away among the hills; but the
good dame was “main glad to see his honour, and
hoped his honour was coming to live among them,
as his worship's honour that was dead and gone had
always done.”

He assured her that such was his intention.

“I am glad your honour has come here this afternoon,”
she proceeded, “for more reasons than one.
Your honour must know there is a poor distressed
young creature in the other room, who wandered
here yesterday after a weary long journey. She is
come of gentle blood, and talks of her relations, who
seem to be all lords and ladies. But sure enough the
poor thing is quite beside herself, and a woful sight
she was, when she came to our door yesterday, with
nothing in the world but an open work straw bonnet
on her head, and a thin shawl over her shoulders,
poor soul, in such a biting cold day. Would not
your honour please to be so good as just to speak a
kind word to her? I'm thinking she's come from
the South, and would be cheered at the sight of one
from her own part of the country, and of her own
degree too.”

It will be readily supposed that Edward expressed
a desire to see her, and he was accordingly conducted
from the neat sitting room, into which he had
first been invited, into a small back room, where
to his no small astonishment he saw, seated in an
easy chair by the fire, and attended by a little girl,
the unfortunate Lady Mary, the wife of Sir Stephen
Haynes.

Her attire consisted of a soiled travelling dress,
which had once been rich and showy—her countenance,
though thin and wasted, was flushed and feverish,
and there was a wildness in her eyes which
told the saddest tale of all, that not only was the
wretched lady forsaken by friends and fortune, but
at least partially deprived of the blessed light of
reason.

She started at the sight of Edward, and exclaimed,
“Ha! so you have come at last. Well, there, I
have been crying here all this livelong morning!
My husband the Duke is to be beheaded on Tower
Hill to-morrow morning for high treason! But,”
said she, grasping Edward's arm, and whispering
vehemently in his ear, “I came within an ace of
being queen, for all that.”

“Then, too,” she continued, weeping bitterly,
“they have imprisoned me here, and the constable
of the castle has taken away my jewels, and sent
away my waiting maid, and left me nobody but this
simple maiden here to attend upon me. I could
have forgiven them all this but they have taken
away my child, my pretty boy, with his bright eyes
and his golden locks. Oh, why do they let me live

any longer!” And she wrung her hands as one not
to be comforted.

“Poor creature!” whispered the good woman of
the house, “she has not been so raving before.”

“I am acquainted with the unfortunate lady,”
replied Edward, in a low voice, “but she does not
seem to know me.”

“Know you!” shrieked Lady Mary, catching
his last words, “Yes I do know you, Edward Ainslie,
and I know, too, what you are come here for.
You have come to preach to me on the folly of ambition—to
upbraid me for deserting my friends and
protectors. But you may spare yourself the trouble.
I shall answer for all to-morrow. I will die with
my husband.”

She said this with great energy, and then, after
pausing a moment and looking thoughtfully on the
floor, she burst into tears again, exclaiming, “But
my poor boy! what will become of him. I pray
Heaven they may not destroy him. Surely he has
done no injury to the state. If the king could look
upon his innocent little face, surely he would spare
him.”

Edward, perceiving that his presence could be of
no service to her, left the apartment and directed
that every attention should be paid to her, and promised
ample remuneration to the family for their
trouble. Then hastily mounting his horse, he rode
to the nearest medical attendant, whom he despatched
to the cottage before he returned home.