第54章 Volume 2(18)

'Besides,sir,remember,'he continued,'the understanding which we have termed an engagement was entered into without any direct sanction upon your part;your father has committed HIMSELF,not YOU,to Lord --.Before a real contract can subsist,you must be an assenting party to it.I know of no casuistry subtle enough to involve you in any engagement whatever,without such an ingredient.Tush!you have an easy card to play.'

'Well,'said the young man,'I will think on what you have said;in the meantime,I will write to my father to announce my immediate departure,in order to join him.'

'Excuse me,'said Dwyer,'but I would suggest that by hastening your departure you but bring your dangers nearer.While you are in this country a letter now and then keeps everything quiet;but once across the Channel and with the colonel,you must either quarrel with him to your own destruction,or you must dance attendance upon Lady Emily with such assiduity as to commit yourself as completely as if you had been thrice called with her in the parish church.No,no;keep to this side of the Channel as long as you decently can.Besides,your sudden departure must appear suspicious,and will probably excite inquiry.Every good end likely to be accomplished by your absence will be effected as well by your departure for Dublin,where you may remain for three weeks or a month without giving rise to curiosity or doubt of an unpleasant kind;I would therefore advise you strongly to write immediately to the colonel,stating that business has occurred to defer your departure for a month,and you can then leave this place,if you think fit,immediately,that is,within a week or so.'

Young O'Mara was not hard to be persuaded.

Perhaps it was that,unacknowledged by himself,any argument which recommended his staying,even for an hour longer than his first decision had announced,in the neighbourhood of Ellen Heathcote,appeared peculiarly cogent and convincing;however this may have been,it is certain that he followed the counsel of his cool-headed follower,who retired that night to bed with the pleasing conviction that he was likely soon to involve his young patron in all the intricacies of disguise and intrigue--a consummation which would leave him totally at the mercy of the favoured confidant who should possess his secret.

Young O'Mara's reflections were more agitating and less satisfactory than those of his companion.He resolved upon leaving the country before two days had passed.He felt that he could not fairly seek to involve Ellen Heathcote in his fate by pledge or promise,until he had extricated himself from those trammels which constrained and embarrassed all his actions.His determination was so far prudent;but,alas!he also resolved that it was but right,but necessary,that he should see her before his departure.His leaving the country without a look or a word of parting kindness interchanged,must to her appear an act of cold and heartless caprice;he could not bear the thought.

'No,'said he,'I am not child enough to say more than prudence tells me ought to say;this cowardly distrust of my firmness I should and will contemn.

Besides,why should I commit myself?It is possible the girl may not care for me.No,no;I need not shrink from this interview.

I have no reason to doubt my firmness--

none--none.I must cease to be governed by impulse.I am involved in rocks and quicksands;and a collected spirit,a quick eye,and a steady hand,alone can pilot me through.God grant me a safe voyage!'

The next day came,and young O'Mara did not take his fishing-rod as usual,but wrote two letters;the one to his father,announcing his intention of departing speedily for England;the other to Lady Emily,containing a cold but courteous apology for his apparent neglect.Both these were despatched to the post-office that evening,and upon the next morning he was to leave the country.

Upon the night of the momentous day of which we have just spoken,Ellen Heathcote glided silently and unperceived from among the busy crowds who were engaged in the gay dissipation furnished by what is in Ireland commonly called a dance (the expenses attendant upon which,music,etc.,are defrayed by a subion of one halfpenny each),and having drawn her mantle closely about her,was proceeding with quick steps to traverse the small field which separated her from her father's abode.She had not walked many yards when she became aware that a solitary figure,muffled in a cloak,stood in the pathway.It approached;a low voice whispered:

'Ellen.'

'Is it you,Master Richard?'she replied.

He threw back the cloak which had concealed his features.

'It is I,Ellen,he said;'I have been watching for you.I will not delay you long.'

He took her hand,and she did not attempt to withdraw it;for she was too artless to think any evil,too confiding to dread it.

'Ellen,'he continued,even now unconsciously departing from the rigid course which prudence had marked out;'Ellen,I am going to leave the country;going to-morrow.I have had letters from England.I must go;and the sea will soon be between us.'

He paused,and she was silent.

'There is one request,one entreaty I

have to make,'he continued;'I would,when I am far away,have something to look at which belonged to you.Will you give me--do not refuse it--one little lock of your beautiful hair?'

With artless alacrity,but with trembling hand,she took the scissors,which in simple fashion hung by her side,and detached one of the long and beautiful locks which parted over her forehead.She placed it in his hand.

Again he took her hand,and twice he attempted to speak in vain;at length he said:

'Ellen,when I am gone--when I am away--will you sometimes remember,sometimes think of me?'