University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER CXXXV. [Chapter 145]

A RURAL SCENE BY MOONLIGHT. —THE STORM. —AN ACCIDENT ON THE ROAD. —A NEW AND STRANGE ACQUAINTANCE ACQUIRED. —A DISAPPOINTMENT.

It was one of those pleasant, moonlight evenings that are frequently felt, as well as seen, towards the end of August, that a party of individuals sat in a travelling-carriage, and were proceeding at an easy pace on one of the cross-roads that run from Winchester to Bath, and also from Southampton, the Isle of Wight, between Salisbury —more properly speaking —and Bath.

The evening was lovely: the day had been sultry, and the sun had not been gone down so long but that the heat of his rays yet remained. Indeed, though the moon gave light, yet the radiated heat from the earth, first received from the sun, was so great, that the light evening breeze barely tempered the air.

The party thus proceeding had been spending a few weeks in rambling about Southampton, Portsmouth, and Salisbury, and were now wending their way to the city of Bath. They consisted of but four individuals, —Captain Fraser, his wife, her sister, and younger brother. The latter did not count more than tweleve years, while the sister, Miss Stevens, was just seventeen years of age.

Captain Fraser had scarce been married six months, and was upon one of the early matrimonial jaunts which often take place in the earlier part of the married life, when all is sunshine, and the matrimonial barometer might always have the index nailed to "set fair" at such periods.

The lady's sister and brother were residing with her; for their parents were dead, and hence they, the captain and his lady, were their natural protectors.

They were riding in an open carriage, the head parted, and thrown back; and even in this manner they felt the evening air was scarcely, though riding, cool.

"I don't think," said Mrs. Fraser to her husband, "that ever I beheld so beautiful a scene. The time —the warmth of the air —the occasional delicious feel of the light evening breeze —the serene light of the moon; altogether, I never felt so comfortable, or, I may add, so happy as I do at this moment."

"I am glad to hear you say so," said the captain; ["]it gives me an additional pleasure to find I can please you."

"Now, Fraser, that is too bad of you."

"What is too bad, my dear?" said the captain, inquiringly.

"Why, to say you are glad you can please. That is as bad as to say that it is a very difficult matter; and you know I am very easily pleased, especially when you make the attempt," said Mrs. Fraser.

"Well, we will not quarrel about that, my dear. But I must say, with you, this hour, time, and place are all one could desire, and such as we seldom meet: the scene across the country is truly beautiful!"

"Yes," said Miss Stevens; "it is beautiful, as far as we can see."

"What river is that yonder?" inquired the brother.

"That is the Willey; the same that we saw at Salisbury," said Captain Fraser.

"Indeed! I thought that came from another direction more northerly."

"That was another arm of the same river, and joined this about there, and all the low grounds on this side of yon hills are called the Valley of the Willey; and a beautiful little vale it is, too, fruitful and picturesque."

"How beautiful the moonbeams glisten on yonder water!"

"They do; but not so strongly as they did."

"No. What is the reason of that? The air appears to darken. I have noticed it for some minutes past. Why is that?"

"I suppose it is caused by the evaporation from the grounds and heavy dews, to compensate for the want of rain that usually takes place at this time of the year."

"Then we shall be obliged to shut up the carriage, for the dew is more likely to cause cold than anything else."

"It is so; but we are upon comparatively high ground here; and, moreover, they will not reach us yet; but, here are shawls; you can wrap up if you feel chilly, or you can put on your veils."

"It is yet so warm," said Miss Stevens, "that I should be reluctant to put on any more clothing yet-awhile."

"Do as you please, but do not take cold," said Captain Fraser. "How indistinct the scene becomes around; the river, which we just now saw so plain, is quite obscured, and you can scarcely tell where it is, save here and there, where the doddered willows appear, and which mark out the course of the stream."

"It is so," said the youth. "I can just see the green tops of the trees appear above the thick mist that rises from the river below."

"Exactly; that is the fact."

"And see how it spreads itself over the cornfields and meadows."

"Was that not a flash of light?" said Mrs. Fraser, suddenly.

"Light! I saw no light," said the captain.

"Nor I," said the youth; "did you, sister?"

"No, I did not do so; but it is very sultry, and therefore it is very likely just at this time of the year. How much farther have we to travel before we stop for the night?"

"I suppose seven or eight miles, not more."

"There, that was no mistake, however," said Mrs. Fraser, as a flash of light shot across the heavens, and left not a trace behind it.

"No, there was no mistake about it; nor did I think so before," said Captain Fraser, "only I have not noticed it; but it is harmless—it is what is called summer lightning, and has none of the the ordinary results of lightning."

"It will possibly make the air cool," suggested Mrs. Fraser, "and, in that case, we shall have a more agreeable temperature; to tell the truth, the extreme warmth and dryness of the air gives a strange uneasiness to the body."

"Another flash—ah, that's a change in its character."

"Yes; that is the blue-forked lightning, and I am much mistaken if we do not have a sudden change—hark!"

At that moment, a sullen and deep rumbling was heard in the heavens, followed by another flash, and then such a peal of thunder that boomed and rattled through the air in a manner that startled the dull echoes of the night, and made the welkin resound with the fearful sounds that filled the heavens.

"We shall have a fall of rain in another moment," said Captain Fraser; "push on, drive on, and let us get out of this as soon as we can."

"Aye, aye, sir," said the driver, and crack went his whip —the horses increased their speed, and they rattled on at a good pace.

"Had we better not stop and have the hood closed.[?]"

"No," said the captain; "I can manage that very well, with the assistance of your brother, and we shall not lose time."

Captain Fraser, and the young gentleman alluded to, brought the coach-top up and secured it, just as a heavy shower descended in such torrents that they could scarcely hear themselves speak, so heavily did it rattle upon the leathern covering of the vehicle, and they sat for some time in silence.

Soon, however, the thunder and lightning filled the air with sounds and flashes in a manner that began to create a feeling of alarm in the minds of the ladies, and some uneasiness in the mind of the captain; not upon their account only, but because the cattle might take flight under the circumstances, especially as they were fresh, and had now scarcely run three or four miles; for their stage was a long one before they reached their destination, which was now about two days' easy journeys.

The thunder and lightning appeared to become more and more terrible; the storm, indeed, appeared to increase rather than diminish in intensity; the very centre of the storm appeared to be fast approaching, and making the spot upon which they stood the pivot on which it turned; its fury increased, and with it the horses were each moment becoming more and more unmanageable. Though in some measure aware of the fact, Captain Fraser kept his place, fearful lest he should alarm his wife, and at the same time distract the coachman.

Suddenly there was a bright and vivid flash of light, such as they had not seen before, but which illumined the whole place around them, and made everything as visible as if placed in the strongest light imaginable, followed by such a crashing peal of thunder that the living earth appeared to rock again.

It wanted but this to make the horses perfectly ungovernable, and they dashed away at a furious speed along the road.

"Good heavens! the horses have taken fright," said Mrs. Fraser, as she became aware of the speed they were going at.

"They have merely taken fright, my dear," said the captain, unwilling to increase their alarm by informing them of his own; "he will keep them in the middle of the road, and we shall be at our journey's end the sooner, and the more so the better."

They were upon the point of being satisfied, when the jolts of the carriage, added to its eccentric course from one side of the road to the other, attracted so much of their attention that Miss Stevens said, —

"See, captain, how the carriage sways from side to side; we shall all be over in another minute or two—we shall all be killed!"

"There goes the thunder again, worse than your kettle drums," said young Stevens, who appeared to think it rather a joke; "the lightning flashes, too, as if we had got into an electrical machine."

"Do not talk in that way, Charles, for goodness sake," exclaimed his younger sister. "We shall all be killed presently."

"I hope not," said Captain Fraser, "though I admit it looks serious; but all you can do, and the best under all the circumstances, is to remain calm and quiet, and see what happens."

"See what happens! Dear me, captain, what do you think we are all made of that we should sit calm," said Miss Stevens, "and see what will happen, when there may be broken limbs, at the least, if not death?"

"It is the best advice I can give you."

"Had we better not get out—I don't mind trying?"

"Aye, if you wish to run imminent risk of instant and violent death, you will make the attempt; if you remain in here shut up, you have every probability that, if we do have an upset, which is not yet certain, we may all escape with but a little fright, or at most a few bruises."

"Yes, sister; you had better wait for the worst, if the worst must happen, rather than rush into it."

This was sensible advice, and the whole party fell into a deep silence, which was unbroken save by the sounds of wheels, the rattling of the carriage, the rain, and the roar of thunder, enough to employ their minds, and at the same time to keep them in momentary dread of the fearful catastrophe.

Suddenly there was a crash and dreadful jolt; they knew not what had happened, except they felt that the vehicle was turned over.

In a moment more the door was opened, and a stranger lent assistance in getting out the unfortunate travellers.

"Do not be alarmed, ladies," said a strange, but courteous voice. "No further mischief can happen now, beyond inconvenience."

As the stranger spoke, he lifted the two ladies out of the carriage, and placed them in a sheltered position by the body.

"Are you hurt?" inquired the stranger, as he assisted Captain Fraser and young Stevens out of the fallen carriage.

"No, sir, I am not; I thank you for your timely aid. Where are the ladies?"

"There they are; I hope, uninjured."

Captain Fraser immediately ran up to them, and, seeing them in safety, said, —

"I am glad to see you are safe. I was stunned at first by a blow on the side of my head."

"Yes, we are safe; but we have to thank this gentleman that we have been so speedily and so easily extricated from our unpleasant prison."

"I am much indebted, sir, for your aid to the ladies. May I trespass upon your kindness to lend me a little further assistance?"

"I shall be happy to assist you under these unpleasant circumstances; but, allow me to suggest as the first thing, that the cushions be placed under the hedge for the use of the ladies, and what cloaks or coats you have should be thrown over them."

"Right, sir; I thank you."

"If you are deficient in them, my cloak is at their service, though I am afraid that it is almost saturated."

"I have enough here," said Captain Fraser, as he pulled out several articles of that nature; and then he, with the assistance of the stranger, placed them so that Mrs. Fraser and sister were almost, if not entirely, sheltered from the storm.

"Now," said the stranger, "the first thing that can be done will be to right the carriage, and place it in a position where it will receive no further damage."

"But the driver and horses," said Captain Fraser, "I must look after them. Had we better not look after them? He may be dying."

"By no means," said the stranger; "he will do very well; if we place the carriage upright, we shall be able to replace the ladies."

"We can," said the captain, who appeared to be divided between the duties of humanity and the tender anxiety he felt for his wife.

"Exactly," said the stranger; "and permit me to suggest that he has either gone on beyond our aid, or does not require it."

"It is possible."

"And very probable," said the stranger; "but if you prefer it, and think the ladies will not suffer, we can walk on ahead till we come up with them, if they stop before the end of the stage."

"No, no, sir; you are quite right; I will get the carriage up if you can so far assist me; we shall then place the ladies in comparative safety."

"We shall so."

They immediately walked round the carriage, and examined its position, as well as they were able, when, to the captain's great relief, he found that it was still on its wheels, though the body was thrown over on its side.

"How can it have happened?" inquired the captain.

"I cannot well see," replied the stranger; "but you will perceive something must have caught the off-side wheel, and turned the whole of the fore carriage that way, which has left this corner of the body without support; added to which, the speed or momentum it must have acquired in its course, has thown it over."

"Precisely. I see now how it is; but if we get the body up, it will fall again over on this side, since it has no support."

"Oh, yes, it will remain up, since it has lost all force, all moving power; unless, indeed, any of the straps are broken. We can try."

"Here, Charles," said Captain Fraser, "we shall want your aid."

"Oh," said the stranger, "the slightest assistance is valuable; it is the last strain or effort that may complete the removal. Now, if we can lift it up from this side, we shall soon right it, and then the fore carriage can be forced round, and the ladies replaced, until we can better dispose of them."

The stranger placed his shoulder to the carriage, as well as the captain and his brother-in-law, young Stevens, and thus aided, he soon lifted it up into its old position, and there it remained very quietly.

"Now we had better pull the wheels round."

This was done, and the carriage assumed its former state.

"Well, how could they have got away?" inquired Captain Fraser, examining the axles and the bars; "all appears right."

"They have broken the splinter-bar, and here are the remains of the traces. The splinter-bar, I find, has only lost its hooks, so it will do again. Come, sir, you have less damage to regret than I at first thought it possible you could have escaped with; I am tuly glad it is so."

"Thank you, sir; your kindness and assistance has been truly great and efficient; but I have yet to find the poor fellow who drove us."

"We will seek after him; or, I had better ride on to the next town or house where I can obtain assistance, while you will be better able to protect the ladies by remaining with them, and my horse will carry me quickly enough."

"Oh! you are mounted."

"I am; but the ladies wait."

Thus admonished, the captain turned to the ladies, and, with the stranger's assistance, he conducted them back to the carriage, where they were replaced, without any material damage or misfortune of any kind, save what might arise from fright.

"Some one is coming this way," said the stranger. "If I mistake not, they are your runaways, by the sounds."

They listened, and distinctly heard the sounds of horses' feet coming along, with the jingling of harness, that made it pretty certain that what the stranger said was correct, and that it was most probable that this was indeed the man who drove them coming back with the same cattle, or some fresh.

A few moments more decided the speculation, and the man himself rode up, and looked at the carriage, saying, —

"Well, I thought it was upset."

"So it was, but we have righted it now. Has no accident happened to you? But these are the same horses!"

"Yes, sir. When they got loose, or broke away, they went as if they were shot out of a gun, and away they went for some miles, until I contrived to stop them, which was a hard job; however, I thought then, as there was nothing the matter with them or with me, I had better return and see what was become of you, sir, and the ladies."

"Quite right. Do you think they will go quietly in the harness again?"

"Oh, yes—oh, yes, sir."

"Then we will harnes; them, and go on to the end of the next stage, when we can see exactly what mischief, if any, has been done."

This was immediately put in practice, and they were soon harnessed, the broken straps and traces being mended in the best way time and circumstances admitted, but effectually enough for the present purpose.

"Now, sir," said Captain Fraser, "do you continue this road, or the one we have come? I supppose we must have overtaken you, as you were coming this way."

"No; I was a traveller going in the same direction. I saw your speed from a distance, and, believing your horses to have taken fright, I rode on, and, being well mounted, I overtook you just as the accient happened."

"Then we may have the pleasure of your company on the road for some distance to come, I hope, sir?"

"As far as the next place to stop at, at all events; for I do not desire to travel further than I can avoid to-night."

"Then I shall be able to thank you more at leisure, and at a better opportunity than at present," said the captain.

"Do not name it; I am too happy to have had it in my power to render you any assistance. Shall I ride on and secure you proper accomodation when you do arrive there?"

"You kindness is very great," said the captain again. "I am much beholden to you; but if we can get as far as we hoped to do, we shall not require it; there will be sufficient for travellers under the ordinary course of events. We shall do very well; and if we should not be able to get so far, we must make ourselves content with whatever chance accommodation we get on the road."

"Then we will journey for that distance in company," said the stranger, as he mounted his horse, which had stood quietly by while the tall stranger rendered the timely assistance he had to them.

They proceeded along now at a cautious pace. The weather had abated, and the rain was now less severe; the thunder only heard in the distance; while the lightning could only be seen in occasional flashes in the distance, in a direction away from them. The clouds began to lighten, and then the diffused light of the moon came and shed a gentle light upon the scene, though it was very scarce, and of comparative little use save it enabled them to see their way all the better.

The roads were good, and they travelled onwards with some increase of speed; and finding none of their amended horse-tackle had given way, they still kept journeying onwards at the same pace.

Time brought them to their destination, and when they arrived at the inn at which they were to stop for the night, they found it had not made much more than an hour or an hour and a half's difference.

When they were fairly housed, the stranger took an apartment to himself. It was while he sat before the fire that Captain Fraser entered his room.

"I must apologise for my intrusion," began the captain.

"Do not say a word on that head, sir," said the stranger; "it is no intrusion—you are welcome. Be seated, if you please; I am alone, and perfectly at leisure."

"I have come to thank you for the service you have done us, and to beg that you will sup with us, and permit the ladies to have an opportunity of thanking their preserver in person. You will oblige us all by accepting the invitation."

"I am much obliged for your courteous offer," said the stranger, who was a tall, dignified man. "I will come after supper, if you please, and shall feel it a great honour, I assure you; but I am so truly sensible that my efforts were more owing to accident than to anything else, that I do not wish to hear anything more of it."

"You must not be so self-denying, sir. We do not wish to put any more merit on your act than we think it deserves; but that much you must accept, if you will permit me to use such a word. Shall we have the pleasure of your company?"

"After supper."

"I will not press you against your feelings; but you will come in after supper, sir? I hope I may have the pleasure of drinking a bottle of wine with you. Will you come?"

"I will, sir, and thank you for the honour."

"May I have the pleasure of being able to introduce you to the ladies by name?" said the captain, with a little hesitation.

"Certainly—certainly. I beg your pardon. I am somewhat forgetful; I forgot I had not passed through an introduction," said the stranger. "Permit me to give you my card."

As he spoke, he handed Captain Fraser a beautifully-embossed card, upon which was printed, in Italian characters, —"Sir Francis Varney."

Captain Fraser took the card and read the name, and then, passing a compliment, he said, that since he could not have his company to supper, then he should expect him when he felt at leisure and disposed to do so. * * *

"My dear," said Captain Fraser to his wife, when he returned to his apartment, "our new friend will not come to supper but will take a glass of wine with me afterwards."

"I am sorry he will not come; though, under other cicumstances, I should have been glad of it; but I am sorry on this occasion."

"And why would you have been glad?"

"Because, after the flurry and upset we had, I am hardly fit to see any one, much less a stranger; but he so kindly and promptly rescued us from our danger, that I cannot feel reluctance at any time."

"Yes," said her sister; "and I must say I never heard a voice that sounded so really like a gentleman's—indeed, I could fancy that any one could positively assert that he was a gentleman, only from hearing him speak, without seeing him at all; but, be that as it may, I felt convinced he was such."

"He is very courteous, I must say," said Mrs. Fraser.

"And who do you think he is?"

"I have no means of forming any judgment."

"Well, then, he is Sir Francis Varney."

"Sir Francis Varney! Well, I do not know the name; I never heard the name before that time; but I think there was some one of that name in the time of Queen Elizabeth—an attendant on the Earl of Leicester."

"Are you not joking?"

"Indeed I am not; I have read so.["]

"And you think this gentleman may be a descendant of his?"

"There is no impossibility nor improbability about it, that I see," said Mrs. Fraser; "but I am the more obliged to him for his timely assistance. I am sure it was fortunate that he was so close at hand."

"Yes, it was very fortunate. Mary, my dear, we shall be introduced to a baronet. It is quite a prophecy of yours in saying he was a gentleman when you only heard him speak. By the way, Fraser, what sort of a man is he?"

"Very singular indeed."

"Singular! Ay—he is very tall."

"Yes, he is tall; but very pale; more remarkable and dignified than handsome; extremely courteous and polite."

"What age is he?"

"Well, I cannot tell; perhaps forty, perhaps not so old by ten years; it is quite impossible to say."

"Dear me, how strange! I think I could guess anybody's age better than that."

"You shall have an opportunity of doing so, then, in an hour or so, when he will come; and I think I may venture upon saying you will be pleased with his dignified politeness, and say he is much superior to most men." ****

The supper ended, and the wine was produced, and Captain Fraser, his lady, and two young relatives, were seated round a good fire —for the storm had chilled the air; besides, the damp they had stood in rendered such a precaution necessary and pleasant, notwithstanding the day had been sultry; but the change in the temperature was sudden and great —awaiting, with something like impatience, the stranger's arrival.

"He does not appear to come," said Charles Stevens.

"He is not here, certainly; but he will come, no doubt, the moment he is quite sure that we had done our supper, and he had finished his own; perhaps he takes longer than we."

"Perhaps so; but I am strongly tempted to go to him again."

"It might be construed into undue urgency, or something of the sort," said Mrs. Fraser; "and yet he might be waiting for something of the sort."

"So he might," said the captain. "At all events, I will go and see; if he were inclined to do so under other circumstances, he would not take offence under the present."

"Perhaps not."

At that moment the door was opened, and the waiter presented a note.

"A note for me?" said Captain Fraser.

"Yes, sir."

"Who can it be from?"

"From the gentleman up stairs, sir, who came with you an hour back."

"Oh!" exclaimed Captain Fraser.

"He was taken ill, and obliged to go to bed, sir."

Captain Fraser immediately tore open the note, and read as follows: —

"SIR, —I deeply regret I cannot keep my promise to take a glass of wine with you, and have the honour of being introduced to the ladies. Favour me so far as to make my excuses to them. It is a great pleasure lost to me on the occasion; permit me to to say deferred, rather than lost; and if I might venture to make an appointment, under the circumstances, I can only say that, if convenient, I should be happy to breakfast with you, and then have the honour and happiness I have now the misfortune to lose.

"Sudden and severe indisposition alone have caused me to retire before I had the honour of seeing you, and expressing my inability to attend you. — Yours, obliged, "FRANCIS VARNEY."

There was a blank upon the countenances of all present. Evidently a deep disappointment was felt by all; but the captain was especially surprised, and, turning to the waiter, he said, —

"Did you see this gentleman?"

"Yes, sir."

"Was he unwell?"

"Yes, sir."

"I mean, was he, or is he, dangerously ill?"

"He was very ill, sir; but I don't know that he is dangerously ill. He suffered much pain, and he was obliged to have aid to go up stairs."

"Did he say what it was that ailed him?" pursued Captain Fraser.

"Not that I heard; though some said he had got the cramp and cold by being too long in the wet."

"Perhaps so—very likely—very likely—that will do. Let me know how he is the first thing in the morning; do you hear?"

"Yes, sir, I will take care."

"Well," said Mrs. Fraser, when they were alone, "I did not expect such a disappointment this evening. However, he makes up for it by appointing the breakfast hour for our meeting; it is the more agreeable, as we shall have had a good night's repose, and shall be the better able to appear to advantage."

—