"And is it not Mr. G.o.dfrey I mean? Good kind Mr. Anthony would not harm a lamb, much less a poor motherless girl like me!"

Again wringing her hands, she burst into a fit of pa.s.sionate weeping.

Juliet was dreadfully agitated; and springing from her horse, she sat down upon the bank beside the unfortunate young woman, regardless of the loud roaring of the thunder, and the heavy pouring of the rain, and elicited from her the story of her wrongs.

Indignant at the base manner in which she had been deceived by G.o.dfrey Hurdlestone, Juliet bade Mary follow her to the Lodge, and inform her aunt of the particulars that she had just related to her.

"I will never betray the man I love!" cried Mary, pa.s.sionately. "When I told you my secret, Miss Whitmore, it was under the idea that you loved him--that you meant to tear him from me. Tell no one, I beseech you, the sad story, which you wrung from me in my despair!"

She would have flung herself at Juliet's feet; but the latter drew back, and said, with a sternness quite foreign to her nature:

"Would you have me guilty of a base fraud, and suffer the innocent to bear the brand of infamy, which another had incurred? Affection cannot justify crime. The feelings with which you regard a villain like G.o.dfrey Hurdlestone are not deserving of the name of love."

"Ah, you young ladies are so hard-hearted," said Mary, bitterly. "Pride hinders you from falling into temptation, like other folk. If you dared, you would be no better than one of us."

"Mary, do not change my pity for your unhappy situation into contempt.

Religion and propriety of conduct can protect the poorest girl from the commission of crime. I am sorry for you, and will do all in my power to save you from your present misery. But you must promise me to give up your evil course of life."

"You may spare yourself the trouble," said the girl, regarding her companion's beautiful countenance, and its expression of purity and moral excellence, with a glance of envious disdain. "I ask no aid; I need no sympathy; and, least of all, from you, who have robbed me of my lover, and then reproach me with the evil which your selfish love of admiration has brought upon me."

A glow of anger pa.s.sed over Miss Whitmore's face, as the girl turned to leave her. She struggled a few minutes with her feelings, until her better nature prevailed; and following Mary, she caught her by the arm:

"Stay with me, Mary! I forgive the rash words you uttered. I am sure you cannot mean what you say."

"You had better leave me," said the girl, gloomily. "Evil thoughts are rising in my heart against you, and I cannot resist them."

"You surely would not do me any harm?" and Juliet involuntarily glanced towards her horse, which was quietly grazing a few paces off, "particularly when I feel most anxious to serve you."

The girl's countenance betrayed the most violent agitation. She turned upon Juliet her fine eyes, in which the light of incipient madness gleamed, and said in a low, horrid voice,

"I hate you. I should like to kill you!"

Juliet felt that to run from her, or to offer the least resistance, would be the means of drawing upon herself the doom which her companion threatened. Seating herself upon a fallen tree, and calmly folding her hands together, she merely uttered, "Mary, may G.o.d forgive you for your sinful thought!" and then awaited in silence the issue of this extraordinary and painful scene.

The girl stood before her, regarding her with a fixed and sullen tone.

Sometimes she raised her hand in a menacing att.i.tude; and then, again, the sweet mild glance of her intended victim appeared to awe her into submission.

"Shall I kill her?" she muttered aloud. "Shall I spoil that baby face, which he prefers to mine?" Then as if that thought aroused all the worst feelings in her breast, she continued in a louder, harsher tone, "Yes--I will tread her beneath my feet--I will trample her into the dust; for he loves her. Oh, misery, misery! he loves her better than me--than me who love him so well--who could die for him! Oh, agony of agonies! for her sake I am forgotten and despised!"

The heart of the woman was touched by the vehemence of her own pa.s.sions.

Her former ferocity gave way, and she sank down upon the ground, and buried her face in the long gra.s.s, and wept.

Her agonising sobs and groans were more than Juliet could listen to, without offering a word of comfort to the mourner. Forgetful of her former fears, she sat down by the prostrate weeper, and lifting her head upon her knees put back from her swollen face the long-neglected tresses, which, drenched by the heavy rain, fell in thick ma.s.ses over her convulsed features. Mary no longer offered any resistance. Her eyes were closed, her lips apart. She lay quite motionless, but ever and anon the pale lips quivered; and streams of tears gushed from beneath the long lashes that shrouded her eyes, and fell like rain over her garments.

Oh, love and guilt, how dreadful is your struggle in the human heart!

Like Satan after his first transgression, the divine principle, still retains somewhat of its sovereign power and dignity, and appears little less

"Than archangel ruined."

"Poor Mary!" sighed Juliet, "your sin has indeed found you out! Thank heaven, the man I love is not guilty of this moral murder. Oh, Anthony, how I have injured you! I ought to have known that you were utterly incapable of a crime like this!"

"Leave me, Miss Juliet," said Mary, regaining her self-possession; "leave me to my own sorrow. Oh, I wish I could die and forget it all!

But I dare not die. Hateful as life has become, I dare not look upon death. Do not weep for me--your tears will drive me mad! Do not look at me so--it makes me hate you. Do not ask me to go to the Lodge, for I will not go!" she cried, springing to her feet, and clenching her hands.

"I am my own mistress! You cannot make me obey you. If I choose to bid defiance to the world, and live as I please, it is no business of yours.

You shall not--you dare not attempt to control me!" And brushing past Miss Whitmore, she was soon lost among the trees. Juliet drew a freer breath when she was gone, and turning round beheld her father.

"What are you doing here in the rain, Juliet? your habit is soaked with water. And where is G.o.dfrey?"

"Take me home, papa!" said Juliet, flinging herself into his arms, and sobbing upon his shoulder. "G.o.dfrey is gone for ever. I have been dreadfully frightened; but I will tell you all when we get home. I cannot tell you here!"

CHAPTER XVI.

Whate'er thou hast to say, speak boldly out; Confront me like a man--I shall not start.

Nor shiver, nor turn pale. My hand is firm, My heart is firmer still; and both are braced To meet the hour of danger--S.M.

About a mile and a half from the village of Ashton, at the head of an obscure cross road, seldom traversed but by wagoners and their teams, or the day laborer going to and fro from the neighboring farms to his work, there stood, a little back in a pathway field, a low public house, whose signboard merely contained the following blunt announcement to mark the owner's calling,

"Table Beer Sold Here."

The master of this obscure house of entertainment (which from its lonely situation might have been termed anything but public,) was a notorious poacher, familiarly known as Old Strawberry; and his cottage, for it deserved no better name, was the nightly resort of all the idle young fellows in the parish.

The in-door accommodations of the house consisted of two rooms below, and two attics above, and a long lean-to, which ran the whole length of the back of the building, forming an easy mode of egress, should need be, from the chamber windows above. The front rooms were divided into a sort of bar, which was separated from the kitchen by a high, old-fashioned stamped-leather screen, behind which a stout red faced middle aged woman held despotic sway, dispensing as many oaths to her customers as she did pots of beer. The other room was of a more private nature. It was fitted up with tables, cards and dice, to which none but the initiated were ever admitted.

The outside of the place had a worn and dilapidated appearance; but the inside was not at all deficient in comfort. The public room contained a good substantial oak dining-table, a dozen well polished elm chairs, an old fashioned varnished clock, and a huge painted cupboard in a corner, the doors of which were left purposely open, in order to display dame Strawberry's store of "real chany" cups and saucers, four long-necked cut-gla.s.s decanters, and a dozen long-legged ale-gla.s.ses. Then there was a side-table decorated with a monstrous tea-board, in which was portrayed, in all the colors of the rainbow, the queen of Sheba's memorable visit to the immortal wisdomship of Solomon.

Various pictures made gay the white-washed walls, amidst which shone conspicuously the history of the prodigal son, representing in six different stages a panoramic view of his life, in which the hero figured in the character of a fop in the reign of the first George, dressed in a sky blue coat, scarlet waistcoat, knee breeches, silk stockings, and high-heeled shoes, and to crown all, a full bottomed wig. Then there were the four Seasons, quaintly represented by four damsels, who all stared upon you with round eyes, and flushed red faces, dame Winter forming the only exception, whose grey locks and outstretched hands seemed to reproach her jolly companions for their want of sympathy in her sufferings.

Over the mantel-shelf hung a looking-gla.s.s in a carved frame, darkened and polished by the rubbing of years, quite a relic of the past, the top of which was ornamented by a large fan of peac.o.c.k's feathers, and bunches of the pretty scentless flowers called "Love everlasting." A couple of guns slung to the beams that crossed the ceiling; an old cutla.s.s in its iron scabbard, and a very suspicious-looking pair of horse pistols, completed the equipment of the room. The lean-to contained a pantry and wash-house, and places for stowing away game and liquor.

The private room was infinitely better furnished than the one just described. It boasted the luxury of a carpeted floor, and a dozen of painted cane-bottomed chairs, several mahogany card-tables, and a good mirror.

In this room a tall drooping girl was busily employed in wiping the dust from the furniture, and placing the cards and dice upon the tables.

Sometimes she stopped and sighed heavily, or looked upwards and pressed her hand upon her head, with a sad and hopeless glance; ever and anon wiping away the tears that trickled down her pale cheeks with the corner of her checked ap.r.o.n.

The door was suddenly flung open with a sound that made the girl start, and the broad person of Mrs. Strawberry filled up the opening.

"Mary Mathews!" she shouted at the top of her voice, "what are you dawdling about? Do you think that I can afford to pay gals a shilling a week to do nothing? Just tramp to the kitchen and wash them potatoes for the men's supper. I don't want no fine ladies here, not I, I'se can tell you! If your brother warn't a good customer it is not another hour that I'd keep you, you useless lazy s.l.u.t!"

"I was busy putting the room to rights, ma'am," said Mary, her indignation only suffered to escape her in the wild proud flash of her eye. "I can't be in two places at once!"

"You must learn to be in three or four, if I please," again bawled the domestic Hecate. "Your time is mine; I have bought it, and I'll take good care not to be cheated out of what's my due. Light up them candles.

Quick! I hear the men whistling to their dogs. They'll be here directly."

Away waddled the human biped, and Mary, with another heavy sigh, lighted the candles, and retreated into the bar-room.