Camilla or A Picture of Youth Part 112

Indiana now poured forth innumerable questions upon what she might look forward to with respect to b.a.l.l.s and public places; Eugenia asked nearly as many concerning the buildings, antiquities, and prospects; and Miss Margland more than either, relative to the company, their genealogies and connexions. The two Doctors soon sat aloof, conferring upon less familiar matters; but Edgar only spoke in reply, and Camilla uttered not a word.

Soon after, a voice on the stairs called out, 'O never mind shewing me the way; if I come to a wrong room, I'll go on till I come to a right;'

and the next minute young Lynmere sallied into the apartment.

'I could not get to you last night,' cried he; 'and I can only stay a moment now. I have a pretty serious business upon my hands; so if you can give me any breakfast, don't lose time.'

Miss Margland, willing to please the brother of Indiana, readily ordered for him whatever the inn would afford, of which he failed not heartily to partake, saying, 'I have met with a good comic sort of adventure here already. Guess what it is?'

Indiana complied; but his own wish to communicate was so much stronger than that of anyone to hear, that, before she could p.r.o.nounce three words, he cried: 'Well, if you're so excessive curious, I'll tell it you. I'm engaged in a duel.'

Indiana screamed; Miss Margland echoed her cry; Eugenia, who had looked down from his entrance, raised her eyes with an air of interest; Camilla was surprised out of her own concerns; and Edgar surveyed him with an astonishment not wholly unmixt with contempt; but the two Doctors went on with their own discourse.

'Nay, nay, Dye, don't be frightened; 'tis not a duel in which I am to fight myself; I am only to be second. But suppose I were first? what signifies? these are things we have in hand so often, we don't think of them.'

'La! brother! you don't say so?' cried Indiana: 'La! how droll!' He then pretended that he would tell nothing more.

Camilla inquired if he had seen Mr. Westwyn, whom she had met with the preceding day.

'Not I, faith! but that's apropos enough; for it's his son that has asked me to be his second.'

'O, poor good old Mr. Westwyn!' cried Camilla, now much interested in this history; 'and can you not save him such a shock? can you not be mediator instead of second? he seems so fond of his son....'

'O, as to him, it's no matter; he's such a harsh old hunks, I shall be glad to have him worked a little; I've often wanted to pull him by the nose, myself, he takes such liberties with me. But did you ever hear of such a fool as his son? he deserves to be badgered as bad as his father; he's going to fight with as fine an honest fellow as ever I met with, for nothing at all! absolutely nothing!'

'Dear! how droll!' said Indiana.

'But why can you not interfere?' cried Camilla: 'poor Mr. Westwyn will be made so unhappy if any evil befalls his son!'

'O, faith, as to him, he may take it as he will; I shan't trouble my head about him; he has made free enough with me, I can a.s.sure you; it's only to have him out of the way, that the business is put off till noon; it was to have been in the morning, but the old tyrant took it into his pate to make poor Henry, who is one of your good ones, and does nothing to vex him on purpose, ride out with him; he has promised, however, to get off by twelve o'clock, when four of us are to be at a certain spot that I shan't name.'

Camilla again began to plead the merits of the father; but Indiana more urgently demanded the reason of the combat. 'I dare say, brother, they fight about being in love with somebody? don't they, brother? now do tell me?'

'Not a whit! it's for a girl he don't care a straw for, and never saw but once in his life, and don't care a farthing if he never sees again.'

'Dear, how droll, brother! I thought people always fought about being in love with somebody they wanted to marry; and never but when she was excessive pretty.'

'O, faith, marriage seldom deserves a fighting match; but as to being pretty, that's all Harry has in his excuse, so he pretends she's as divine as an angel.'

'Dear! well, and don't you know anything more than that about it?'

'No, nor he neither; he only saw her at a bathing house, where a fine jolly young buck was paying her a few compliments, that she affected not to like; and presently, in a silly dispute whether she was a girl of character, they had a violent quarrel, and Harry was such a fool as to end it with a challenge.'

At the words _a bathing house_, the blood forsook the cheeks of Camilla with sudden personal alarm; but it mounted high into them again, upon hearing the nature of the dispute; though yet again it sunk, and left them wholly pallid, at the brief and final conviction she was the sole cause of this duel, and upon so disgraceful a dispute.

The emotions of Edgar, though less fearful, were not less violent nor painful. That Camilla should be the subject of any challenge was shocking, but of such a one he thought a dishonour; yet to prevent, and with the least publicity, its effect, was the immediate occupation of his mind.

A short pause ensued, broken presently by Clermont, who, looking at his watch, suddenly jumped up, and calling out, 'Faith, I shall be too late!' was capering out of the room; but the shame of Camilla in the disgrace, was overpowered by her terror of its consequences, and starting up, and clasping her hands, 'O cousin! O Clermont!' she cried, 'for Heaven's sake stop this affair!'

Clermont, satisfied that a sufficient alarm was raised to impede the transaction, without any concession on his part, declared himself bound in honour to attend the appointment, and, in extreme seeming haste and earnestness, walked off; stopping, however, when he came to the door, not to listen to the supplications of his cousin, but to toss off a fresh cup of chocolate, which a waiter was just carrying to the next room.

Camilla now, her face varying in colour twenty times in a minute, and her whole frame shaking, while her eyes were cast, conscious and timid, on the floor, approached Edgar, and saying, 'This young man's father is my dear uncle's friend!...' burst into tears.

Edgar, wholly dissolved, took her hand, pressed it to his lips, besought her, in a low voice, to dismiss her apprehensions, in the confidence of his most ardent exertions, and again kissing her hand, with the words, 'Too ... O, far too dear Camilla!' hastened after Lynmere.

Affected in a thousand ways, she dropt, weeping, upon a chair. Should the duel take place, and any fatal consequences follow, she felt she should never be happy again; and even, should it be prevented, its very suggestion, from so horrible a doubt of her character, seemed a stain from which it could never recover. The inconsiderate facility with which she had wandered about with a person so little known to her, so underbred, and so forward, appeared now to herself inexcusable; and she determined, if but spared this dreadful punishment, to pa.s.s the whole of her future life in unremitting caution.

Eugenia, with the kindest sympathy, and Indiana and Miss Margland, with extreme curiosity, sought to discover the reason of her emotion; but while begging them to dispense with an explanation, old Mr. Westwyn was announced and appeared.

The horrors of a culprit, the most cruel as well as criminal, seemed instantly the portion of the self-condemned Camilla; and, as he advanced with cheerful kindness, to inquire after her health, his ignorance that all his happiness, through her means, was that moment at stake, pierced her with a suffering so exquisite, that she uttered a deep groan, and sunk back upon her chair.

An instant's recollection brought her more of fort.i.tude, though not of comfort; and springing up and addressing, though not looking at Mr.

Westwyn, who was staring at her with astonishment and concern: 'Where, sir,' she cried, 'is your son? If you have the least knowledge which way he is gone ... which way he may be traced ... pursue and force him back this moment!... Immediately!...'

'My son!' repeated the good old gentleman, wanting no other word to partic.i.p.ate in any alarm; 'what, Hal Westwyn?--'

'Follow him ... seek him ... send for him ... and do not, a single instant, lose sight of him all day!'

'My dear young lady, what do you mean? I'll send for him, to be sure, if you desire it; but what makes you so good as to think about my son? did you ever see my son? do you know my son? do you know Hal Westwyn?'

'Don't ask now, dear sir! secure him first, and make what inquiries you please afterwards.'

Mr. Westwyn, in evident consternation, walked out, Camilla herself opening the door; but turning back in the pa.s.sage, strongly said: 'If the boy has been guilty of any misbehaviour, I won't support him; I don't like misbehaviour; it's a bad thing; I can't take to it.'

'O no! no! quite the contrary!' exclaimed the agitated Camilla, 'he is good, kind, generous! I owe him the greatest obligation! and I desire nothing upon earth so much, at this moment, as to see him, and to thank him!'

The old gentleman's eyes now filled with tears, and coming back, and most affectionately shaking hands with her, 'I was afraid he had misbehaved,' he cried; 'but he was always a good lad; and if he has done any thing for the niece of my dear Sir Hugh Tyrold, I shall hug him to my heart!' and then, in great, but pleased perturbation, he hurried away, saying to himself, as he went: 'I'll take him to her, to be sure; I desire nothing better! G.o.d bless her! If she can speak so well of my poor Hal, she must be the best girl living! and she shall have him ...

yes, she shall have him, if she's a mind to him; and I don't care if she i'n't worth a groat; she's niece to my old friend; that's better.'

Camilla speeding, but not hearing him, returned to her seat; yet could not answer one question, from the horrors of her fears, and her shame of the detail of the business.

When the breakfast was over Miss Margland desired everyone would get ready to go to the lodgings; and, with Indiana, repaired herself to visit them, and give general orders. Dr. Marchmont had glided out of the room, in anxiety for Edgar; to the great dissatisfaction, and almost contempt of Dr. Orkborne, with whom he was just discussing some controverted points upon the s.h.i.+eld of Achilles; which, that he could quit for the light concerns of a young man, added again to his surmises that, though he had run creditably the usual scholastic race, his reputation was more the effect of general ability and address, than of such sound and consummate learning as he himself possessed. Ruminating upon the ignorant injustice of mankind, in suffering such quacks in literature and philology to carry the palm of fame, he went to his chamber, to collect, from his bolster and bedside, the h.o.a.rd of books and papers, from which, the preceding night, he had disenc.u.mbered his coat, waistcoat, and great coat pockets, inside and out, to review before he could sleep; and which now were again to encircle him, to facilitate their change of abode.

But Eugenia would not quit her afflicted sister, who soon, in her gentle breast, deposited the whole of her grief, her apprehensions, and her plans; charging her instantly to retire, if Edgar should return, that whatever might be the event he should unfold, she might release him immediately from an engagement that his last words seemed to avow did not make him happy, and that probably he now repented. The design was so consonant to the native heroism of Eugenia, that she consented, with applause, to aid its execution.

About half an hour, which seemed to be prolonged to twenty times the duration of the whole day, pa.s.sed in terrible expectation; Edgar then appeared, and Eugenia, suspending her earnest curiosity, to comply with the acute feelings of her sister, retreated.

Camilla could scarce breathe; she stood up, her eyes and mouth open, her face pale, her hands uplifted, waiting, but not daring to demand intelligence.

Edgar, entering into her distress with a tenderness that drove from him his own, eagerly satisfied her: 'All,' he cried, 'is safe; the affair has been compromised; no duel has taken place; and the parties have mutually pledged themselves to forget the dispute.'

Tears again, but no longer bitter, flowed copiously down her cheeks, while her raised eyes and clasped hands expressed the fervency of her thankfulness.

Edgar, extremely touched, took her hand; he wished to seize a moment so nearly awful, to enforce upon her mind every serious subject with which he most desired it to be impressed; but sorrow was ever sacred to him; and desiring only, at this period, to console her: 'This adventure,' he cried, 'has now terminated so well, you must not suffer it to wound you.

Dismiss it, sweet Camilla, from your memory!... at least till you are more composed.'

'No, sir!' cried Camilla, to whom his softness, by restoring her hope of an ultimately happy conclusion, restored strength; 'it ought never to be dismissed from my memory; and what I am now going to say will fix it there indelibly.'

Edgar was surprised, but pleased; his most anxious wishes seemed on the point of being fulfilled; he expected a voluntary explanation of every perplexity, a clearance of all mystery.