CHAPTER XXXVI.

A calm, quiet evening, with the wind at south, the sun setting red in clouds, and a gray vapour stealing over the sky, with every prospect of a coming storm, and yet everything still and sober in solemn tranquillity, often puts me in mind of those pauses in the busy course of life which precede some great and decisive event. It is very strange, too, but I have remarked that it not unfrequently happens that such an aspect of external nature comes, as it, were, to harmonize with our feelings when we take a brief pause upon the brink of great events, destined to bring fruition or disappointment to all the hopes of life.

Such an evening was that which Lord H---- and Edith and Mr. Prevost spent together at the house where so many of these scenes have been laid, after quitting Fort Edward in the morning. Their journey had passed quite peaceably; they had encountered no human being but a few bands of friendly Indians, going to join the army; and the ride, as every one knows, was, and still is, a very beautiful one. It had occupied hardly four hours, and thus the principal part of the day had been spent in tranquillity in a scene endeared to all.

Mr. Prevost had retired to his room to write, and Lord H---- and Edith sat together in front of the house gazing out towards the setting sun. There are few things really sublime on earth; but amongst the most sublime are those moments when we sit beside a fellow-being so linked to us by love that our existence seems but as a part of his or hers, our hopes, our fears, our happiness, our joy, identified; and yet, in the course of mortal fate, the approach of some dark hour of parting keeps ever whispering in our ear, "Ye are not truly one. Though mingling every thought and feeling; though heart beat with heart, and mind walk with mind; though each breast is open to the other, as to the eyes of conscience and of God; though linked and bound by every aspiration and by every sentiment, ye are two, and ye must sever." The sensation is very painful, but it is sublime in its intensity; and such were the sensations of Edith and her lover as they sat there and watched the setting sun.

They talked of many things, some not at all connected with the circumstances of the present or the future; they feared to dwell upon them too long, and they often sought relief in indifferent topics; still the coming hour was vaguely present to the mind of each. It was like sitting near a waterfall, with the quiet, melancholy murmur of the cataract mingling harmoniously, but sadly, with every other sound.

"I trust, dear Edith, that we shall see it together," said Lord H----, speaking of the distant land where they both had birth. "Many a lovely thing is to be met with in the old world, both in nature and in art; and though I love these beautiful scenes well, and enjoy as much as any one the magnificence of unadorned Nature, yet methinks that is no reason why we should not appreciate to the full all that is fine or lovely, though of a different kind and character. It is the narrow-minded man--the man of an uncapacious soul, who suffers one sort of excellence alone to take possession of his taste or heart. Beauty and goodness are infinitely varied; and though I may love some aspects best, yet I trust ever to be capable of deriving pleasure from each and all."

"But you have seen all these things, George," she answered; "will it not weary you to go over them all again, with so untutored a companion as myself?"

He gazed at her for a moment, with a look of earnest affection, and gently pressed the hand he held in his.

"I take a new light with me, Edith," he replied; "a light that will give new loveliness to everything that is beautiful. I have often thought, my beloved, that to see our own sensations,--I mean happy ones, enjoyment, admiration, satisfaction,--reflected from the mind of one so dear as you are to me, must be like beholding a lovely scene reflected from the bosom of a calm lake, where every fair feature and bright hue acquires a magic lustre, and a brightness greater in the borrowed image than even in the tangible reality. These are happy dreams, Edith; let us trust to renew them some few weeks hence; and then, whenever this campaign is over, I will quit this busy, perilous game of war, if Edith will then be mine, and realize the visions we love so well. In the meanwhile, dear one, as every one who goes into battle encounters certainly some peril, let us speak a word of the future, in case the worst should befall. You will remember me, Edith, I am sure, if I should not return. I do not think you will ever love any other so well; but, remember, I am not so selfish in my love as to wish you to sacrifice the whole comfort and happiness of a life to the memory of one departed. Be happy when and in what way you can; consult your own feelings solely. And I do believe that, if spirits can look down on earth when parted from this frail body, your happiness, however it is attained, will add to mine; for I cannot think, that, when we quit this earth, we carry the selfishness of clay along with us."

The tears swam in Edith's eyes, and gemmed the long black lashes round them; but they ran not over.

"I have but one wish on earth, George," she answered, "when I think of the chances that you mention. It is, that I may not survive you even an hour. If I had not known it could not be, I would have asked to go with you, in the hope that, if you are to fall, one hour might take us both."

Lord H---- smiled sadly, and shook his head.

"That might entail greater sorrows still," he rejoined, "and in no sense could it be, my Edith. No soldier should have his wife with him. While in the field, he should be detached as much as possible from every thought but that of duty. I doubt, indeed, that he should have any tie to earth whatever, except those which God imposed upon him at birth. This is one reason why I shall quit the army. I am less fit to be a soldier than I was; but I should be utterly unfit if I thought you were in peril. From all apprehension on that score I go free. I felt some uneasiness, indeed, while I thought that you were to remain alone here with none but the servants round you. As matters are arranged at present, however, you would be quite safe with Colonel Schneider and his wife. Besides, his servants, and the host of workmen employed in finishing his house and all the other works he has going on, will prove a little body-guard in itself."

"I should have felt myself perfectly secure here," returned Edith; "for the familiar aspect of all things round gives a sort of confidence which I could feel nowhere else. These Schneiders I hardly know; but, if you and my father are better satisfied, I am content to be with them. What hour are we to set out to-morrow?"

"Between one and two o'clock," replied Lord H----, "will be quite time enough. The distance is but six miles, and your father and I can very well escort you thither, and reach Fort Edward before night."

"I am glad of that," answered Edith. "To-morrow is the day that poor Captain Brooks is to be here. I should much like to see him once more, and I hope that he will arrive before we go. If not, I must tell the servants to provide for him well, and show him every kindness. Oh, George, is it not terrible to think of his encountering such a fate? The very idea of providing his last meals for him when going to a voluntary death, makes my heart sink with horror and regret."

"The only choice is between him and poor Walter," answered Lord H----; "and we must not forget that this act of Woodchuck's has not been pressed, or even asked, by us. He judges, and judges rightly, I think, that it would be ungenerous to allow Walter to suffer for his acts; and, though I would not urge him to adopt the course he has chosen, I certainly would say nothing to dissuade him."

"His self-devotion only makes it more terrible," returned Edith, "at least in my eyes; and yet I cannot help hoping," she continued, looking up inquiringly in her lover's face, "that something may occur--why should I not say that something will be provided?--to rescue them both, without this awful sacrifice."

Lord H---- would say nothing to quell a hope which he thought would give comfort; yet he did not share it, for his faith was less than Edith's--man's faith always is less than woman's.

Not many minutes more passed before Mr. Prevost rejoined them, speaking to one of the servants, as he entered, in a calm but rapid tone, and giving various orders and directions for the morrow. Although not likely to be exposed so much as if entrusted with a military command, some danger, of course, attended the mere fact of his accompanying the army; and he had spent the last hour or two in making many arrangements in view of probable death. Though a man of a quick imagination and susceptible temperament, death had never had any great terrors for him. He was personally, constitutionally, courageous; and in whatever aspect or under whatever circumstances he contemplated the mere passing from one life to another, he could not bring his mind to fear it. Yet, strange to say, he was in some respects of an apprehensive turn of mind. He feared difficulty, he feared disgrace, he feared the slightest imputation on his honour or his character; he was exceedingly apprehensive when any danger menaced those he loved. Thus, as far as he himself was concerned, he had sat down that day to contemplate his own death as calmly as any other event inseparable from life; but when the thought of Edith and Walter, and their future fate, mingled with his reflections, his courage was shaken, and he felt much agitated. He had pursued his task steadily, however; had arranged all things so as to leave neither obscurity nor difficulty in his affairs; and then, casting all sombre thoughts from him, came down and joined his daughter and his friend below, with a tranquil, nay, a cheerful face.

All the proceedings of the following day were then definitely arranged. After an early and hasty dinner, he and Lord H----, with the four mounted men who accompanied them, and Edith's old travelling companion, Chando, were to escort her to the dwelling of Colonel Schneider, the new house built that spring even further in the wild than that of Mr. Prevost, and of which the Indians on the hill had spoken. There, leaving her at once, the two gentlemen were to return to the camp, which they calculated upon reaching before nightfall. Vain arrangements,--vain preparations! How continually are we frustrated, even in the smallest and most insignificant plans, by that obdurate, over-ruling will of Fate!

The night passed quietly, day dawned, and, while Edith was dressing, she saw from her window the expected figure of Woodchuck, walking towards the door with a firmer tread and more resolute and easy bearing than he displayed when he had last appeared. On descending, she found him talking with her father and Lord H---- with perfect calmness and ease. His look was firm and self-possessed; his air was bold, though tranquil; and he seemed to have gained health since she saw him. Edith was almost tempted to believe that some happy change of circumstances had taken place; but his first words dispelled the illusion.

"No, I thank you, Mr. Prevost," he said, "I must go on. I'll just take some breakfast with you, and then begin my march. I have calculated well my time, and I should like to have a day or two to come and go upon. It doesn't do to push things to the last. I guess I shall reach Johnson Castle to-night. Then, mayhap, I shall get a lift up the river in a canoe; but, at all events, even if I am obliged to foot it all the way, I shall be in time."

Mr. Prevost looked down, and fell into thought, while Woodchuck advanced to Edith, shook hands with her, and spoke upon indifferent subjects. She now remarked that he was dressed in different guise from that which he had assumed during the winter. A light brown hunting-shirt, loose in the body and the sleeves, seemed to be his principal garment; and in the belt which bound it round him was stuck the tomahawk and scalping-knife of an Indian. His rifle stood in one corner of the room. On his head he wore a fur cap as usual; a pouch and powder-horn, with moccassins on his feet, completed his equipment.

"Well, general," he said, turning to Lord H----; "I saw some of your people as I came up the river. There had been a fuss about bateaux, but I showed them how they could find some; for a set of knaves, more French than English at their hearts, had drawn a crowd of them up the creek. So Abercrombie and the rest are all up at Fort Edward by this time."

Lord H---- looked towards Mr. Prevost; but he was still in thought, and only roused himself to lead the way into the hall to breakfast. Woodchuck ate heartily; but to touch a single mouthful was a hard task for each of the other three. While still at the table, however, the sound of horses' feet galloping up to the door was heard; and Lord H----, starting up, looked out of the window. A young officer and a trooper of dragoons were at the door; and the moment the former saw Lord H----, he handed him a letter in at the window, dismounting and entering soon after. By this time, the despatch had been read both by the young nobleman and Mr. Prevost; and the latter exclaimed, "This is most unfortunate! An immediate recall, Edith. We must not delay a moment, for the march commences to-morrow at daybreak. Get ready as fast as possible, my love; we will see you safely to Colonel Schneider's and then gallop back to the Fort."

"Excuse me for observing," said the young officer, "that the order is peremptory. Of course, his lordship will judge for himself; but I only follow General Abercrombie's commands, in saying that he wishes not a moment's delay."

"But, my daughter, sir, my daughter," said Mr. Prevost.

The young gentleman bowed stiffly, but made no answer; and the countenance of Lord H---- was very grave.

"Surely," said Mr. Prevost, "'twould be no great disobedience of orders to see my daughter safely to the house of my friend, Colonel Schneider, a distance of not more than six miles."

"Which would take nearly two hours to go and come," said the young officer drily; "at least over roads such as these. But you and his lordship are the best judges. I do not presume to dictate; I only convey to you the commander-in-chief's orders."

"Leave her to my care, Prevost," said Woodchuck, starting up. "I will see her safe. It's all in my way. Some of the servants can go with us, and there is no danger."

"I am in no fear, indeed, my dear father," said Edith; "do not risk a censure. I shall be quite safe with our friend here."

"I believe, indeed, you will," said Lord H----; "otherwise, I myself should be tempted to disobey. But the terms of this despatch are so pressing, that, unless there were immediate and positive peril, I think we are bound to return to camp at once."

He spoke aloud, and very gravely; but then, advancing to Edith's side, he added a few words in a lower tone. Mr. Prevost walked up and joined in their consultation--a sufficient indication, it might have seemed, that they wished, for a few moments' privacy. Woodchuck understood, and walked quietly to the door; for natural delicacy of feeling is but the reality of that of which politeness is the shadow. But the young officer, who was of that coarse, common stuff of which martinets are ultimately made, still kept his ground, till Lord H----, somewhat provoked, turned round and said,--

"Captain Lumley, you will have the goodness to return to head-quarters, and inform the commander-in-chief that his orders shall be punctually obeyed."

The young man paused a moment with a look of surprise and discontent; and a moment or two after, when he passed Woodchuck at the door of the house, he was muttering,--

"Without asking me to take any refreshment!"

His murmurs were, perhaps, natural; for those who concede least to the feelings of others invariably exact most for their own.

It is true, Lord H----, occupied with thoughts that engrossed him altogether, dismissed the _aide-de-camp_ without remembrance of his needs as well as without any feeling of resentment, and omitted a courtesy which no resentment assuredly would have curtailed. But the young man, swelling with indignation and offended dignity, mounted sullenly, and proceeded but slowly on his way. He had not gone one-half the distance, however, between Mr. Prevost's house and Fort Edward, when Lord H---- and the commissary passed him at great speed; and he did not reach head-quarters till half an hour after they had announced their own return.