Legends of Lancashire 24

Legends of Lancashire 24

“I cannot, young lady, see your face, but your hand is feverish,

and your heart is throbbing. And the hour is so late, and the

street crowded. Yes, my prophecy will be fulfilled.”

 

Alice felt that it would, as she listened to her voice, and gazed

upon her face. Her features seemed altogether to have lost their

happy __EXPRESSION__. They were still sweet; but clouded, and sad.

“This light,” she resumed, “is not pleasant. It is not that of

mountain, vale, and stream. Ah! I heard the young chieftain’s step,

so gallant, light, and free; but the cockade waved over his head.

Royal was his voice, for I knew something of courts, in another

clime. And your brother?--you are now in search of him. I need not

inquire. Darkness and death are around all his relations. Start

not. He is a rebel, and now pledges, in the presence of Charles

Edward, his allegiance to the family of Stuart. Oh, why should I

know names and events? Happy I was, when life for me was but to

think and feel. But fair one, come on, embrace your brother once

more, Come,” and she almost dragged the sinking Alice forward, to

hasten her steps. They soon arrived at the Pretender’s palace, but

it was guarded by a close band of Highland soldiers. They made a

passage however, for them, when Alice shortly explained the purpose

of their coming.

 

“Ay fair lady,” said one “step in, your brother is now Captain

Dawson, and a brave and gallant Southern he is.”

 

“It is true then!” Alice exclaimed with a shriek, while she hid her

face in her hands, “he is a traitor and we are all ruined.”

 

“A traitor!” fiercely exclaimed a kilted mountaineer, whose fiery

eyes peered through his shaggy eyebrows, as he rudely grasped her

with his left hand, while his right sought the deadly weapon--“Be

canny, noo, my leddie, lest Tonald’s tirk may pe seeking te right

side o’ te question. Tat pe te way tat Englishers speak of der

lawfu Sovereign, tat day must call his gude friends traitors!”

 

Alice Dawson looked unmoved upon the specimen of barbarous

brutality. Her eye gleamed indignantly; which the Scot observing,

drily rejoined, by taking his hands from off her and saying, “Is

she after wishing to frighten Tonald? Hech, hech! She canna tak te

preeks off te Heelandman: and faith Tonald canna tak them off her.”

 

“She’s a traitoress,” exclaimed one of the Lowlanders, whose face

might have been mistaken for a smoke-dried ham, for he was the only

ill favoured soldier in the company.

 

“Hold,” thundered forth one of their leaders, who came out from

the palace, and his fiery eye rebuked the rude soldiers, who had

gathered round to support their comrades, in whatever they might be

pleased to do, against the unprotected Alice, and her companion;

“cowards, to attack and frighten a lady! It would be gallantry,”

he added, turning to the Lowlander, “were you to show your back to

a lady, and conceal that face of yours. She would excuse you, for

in your case it would not be considered as a breach of manners.

Manners! but what know you of manners? Fair lady, my sentinel

informs me that you seek your brother, who is a captain in the

Manchester regiment, this day enlisted, as volunteers, in the

Prince’s cause. See, they make a way for you. Step in.”

 

The young soldier who spoke, was Hector McLean, a leader of the

north, and one of the many Scottish gentlemen of rank, who, for

their ready attachment to his cause, had been knighted by the

Pretender. The accent of his country was slightly perceptible,

and there was something so friendly in his voice, that Alice

halted, to obtain some further information concerning her brother,

or some directions by which she might be guided to him; and her

companion, who had been altogether silent, seemingly absorbed

in her own thoughts, did not urge her on. But as her eyes fell

upon the handsome form of the knight, so martial in his bearing,

although but of slender proportions, she blushed deeply, and half

repented that she had not forthwith entered. He doffed his bonnet,

gallantly, and respectfully, as she stood before him,--announced

his name, and offered her his services. “Fair lady, you appear

to have been in tears. Are they shed for your brother? Think not

by any eloquence, aye, even that of affection, to turn him from

his purpose, and make him insensible to his duty. His sovereign

has a claim prior to his sister. And could you deprive the brave

Chevalier of a hope of victory?”

 

“He has left an aged and infirm father,” sobbed Alice, “and we are

unprotected. He himself is not inured to war, for the cloisters of

a college have been his only camp. Oh! gallant knight,” and she

looked up, with a countenance, as innocent and artless as it was

mournful, “entreat my brother to return!”

 

“I must deny you,” he gently replied. “The captain is an

acquisition, and already has gained the confidence of the Prince.

Your fair brow, may be soon encircled with honours, won by your

brother, from a grateful master. When you have seen him, you shall

return home, and pray for his safety, and that of the Prince.”

 

As he spoke, Alice felt her companion shudder. The young Prophetess

knelt down, and muttered some words in a low, but wild tone. Rising

up, she drew Alice closer to her, and madly exclaimed,--

 

“Almighty One, keep her alone, join not their fates--but ah! it

cannot be! Brother and lover will ruin her, and death, death is her

lot. The poison is to lurk in every sweet rose, for you. I know it.

And she, the beautiful one, your companion in the vale, now too

must see her dream vanish. Oh, _their_ heads mount the poles in the

public streets. I cannot see them; thank God, yours shall be spared

such scorn, but languid for many a night shall they lie on the

pillow, and then, they must find rest in an early grave.”

 

She twined herself around Alice, kissed her cheeks, and wept.

 

The chieftain stood silent and astonished, not being able to

comprehend the scene; but Alice trembled, and almost sunk to

the ground. He placed her hand within his. “Come, and you will

straightway have an interview with him. He is now closeted with the

Prince, and his officers, consulting together upon some military

plans.”

 

They entered:--the inside of the palace was fitted up with great

magnificence; and the spacious hall of audience was adorned with

portraits of the Stuart family, on which the lights were gleaming

brightly, and but for the gilded and embossed frames, they might

have been mistaken for the living sovereigns, who, by nature, were

endowed with the highest talents to sway an empire, but whose

imprudence and licentiousness expelled them from the throne. The

beautiful Queen of Scotland shone forth with a loveliness which

none but a royal old maid and prude, could have doomed to death.

She, who had been the wife of three husbands, still seemed to

have more love and affection in those bright features, than the

Holy Virgin of England, who never had a lover. The first Charles

was painted there, as he stood on the scaffold, and his eyes were

raised joyfully from the block, to see, in vision, the crown of

heaven, which no weapon could take from the Lord’s annointed. The

light threw a beautiful longing of immortality over his features.

At the further end of the hall, hanging from the ceiling to the

floor, was a green silk curtain, behind which was the door leading

to the Chevalier’s apartments. This was the only screen from the

face of royalty. Sir Hector, however, led Alice through a sliding,

at the right wing, and stood, for a little, opposite to a door,

above which were the Prince’s arms. At that moment it opened, and

Charles Edward, with young Dawson, appeared. The latter rushed into

the embrace of his sister. She beheld the uniform, and her hand was

upon the sash by which he was belted, still she clung fondly to

him, although she could not utter a word. Sir Hector McLean gave

the Pretender an explanation; who, stepping up, gently took the

hand of Alice.

 

“Lady, bless your brother, and the cause he supports. Blame him

not; you cannot call me a rebel, and he must, therefore, be loyal.

Captain, comfort your sister.”

 

“And who shall comfort thee?” sadly asked the blind child. “Oh,

never, never, can you mount the throne.”

 

“Who is she? She is pale for me and my woes. See, the tears are

trickling down these cheeks. Perhaps blood, the blood of my

friends, may flow freely in my cause. God knows that my own heart

is sad, even for a tear on the face of another, for my sake.

But hark, my leaders are gay in the dance!” So kindly did the

Prince soothe the feelings of Alice, that when he retired, she

was prepared even to give comfort to her brother, when he spoke

of Katharine. She could not, however, persuade him to accompany

her home, and obtain their father’s forgiveness, and Katharine’s

blessing.

 

“I dare not. I could not leave you all alone and unprotected. How

could I part from you, in the home of our past life? I must see

Katharine once more, but not there. But you, oh, what dangers you

have undergone this night for me, Alice! My heart breaks, awful

forebodings creep over my soul, at the sight of this blind girl. I

dare not see you home, and yet, to expose you--”

 

“Nay, captain,” kindly rejoined Sir Hector, “I should feel

honoured, would your fair sister accept of my protection.”

 

“Thanks, my noble friend; watch over her. The clock strikes the

hour of one. Sleep, Alice, and think not of our woes. We shall meet

again in happier times. One more embrace, dear girl; give my love

to Katharine, and my obedience to my father. I may see them before

the Prince leaves Manchester. Farewell. Sir Hector--”

 

“Say not a word, captain. I shall guard her as I would the

Chevalier. Now, fair lady,”--and he almost dragged her from the

arms of her brother.

 

As they reached the door, she looked round for her companion--but

she was gone!

 

When his sister left him, Captain Dawson in vain sought comfort

in the room where all the officers were assembled for mirth and

the dance. His spirits were sunk, and into every bright scene

which hope conjured up, his aged parent and his unprotected

sister entered, and stood looking upon him, and yet he could not

approach them. He believed, however, that to his country he was

not acting the part of a traitor, for he wished to restore to it

the descendant of its ancient rulers. Sometimes, too, the quiet

retirement which he had formerly enjoyed within the cloisters of

the college, arose to his mind, and now, when surrounded by arms,

with the glory of strife before him in all probability, the arts of

peace appeared more noble and worthy of attainment. He retired to

the apartment which was assigned to him; but there, grief almost

reached the point of delirium, and the young soldier wept on his

pillow. He heard a knock at the door, and then Sir Hector McLean entered.