Chapter II

There is a cliff whose high and beetling head
Looks fearfully in the confined deep:
Bring me to it.
SHAKSPEARE.

They were trained together in their childhood,
And there rooted between them such an
Affection as cannot choose but branch now.
IBID.

Lord Castleton, in accordance with the claim which we have seen Lady Madelina had established to a common property with him in the use of the monosyllable “we,” had passed the evening in hanging over the sofa, on which she gracefully reclined, apart from the rest of the world, within the recess of a roseate-draperied tent, into which a ci-devant oriel window had been converted.

On the next eventful morning the ladies were to perform the first part of the expedition in open carriages, the gentlemen on horseback; when the road no longer admitted of such civilized modes of conveyance, the ladies were to be transferred to donkeys, and the men to try their pedestrian powers. Lord Castleton had escorted Lady Madelina to her carriage, and had started, with one hand on the barouche door, and the other promoting, through the medium of his horse’s mouth, that sort of curveting canter which made conversation during progress easy; but before they were even out of sight of the abbey his attention was diverted by the oft-repeated cry, just behind him, in his host’s voice, of “Soho! soho! quiet there!” and looking back he caught occasional glimpses even of the highest _guérite_ of Hornscliff, in short of the whole of poor Sir North’s _country seat_, between his _equestrian seat_ and his saddle. The fact was that Sir North’s stable, like his house, had been furnished wholesale and indiscriminately; but as a _sofa_ is easier to sit than a horse, and as Sir North’s figure and habits were much more adapted to the one than the other, the want of proper selection was here infinitely more inconvenient. Lord Castleton, seeing the imminent danger in which his host was, could do no other than offer to change with him. This proposal Sir North received without the slightest scruple, which, considering that at the time he thought he was consigning his young friend to the merciless power of the most terrific animal in creation, was a conduct which nothing but an extreme case of self-preservation could justify. Though his new rider did not find much difficulty in managing the unruly beast, yet as Lady Madelina’s nerves no longer allowed Lord Castleton to ride by the side of the carriage, he was left, up to the time of quitting these vehicles, more unoccupied than he otherwise would have been, to admire the increasing beauty of the surrounding scenery.

A train of thoughts long neglected, and a tone of feeling of late untouched, seemed to revive within him, under the impression of outward objects, to which his eye had been now for some time a stranger. The meditations into which he was thus insensibly led were only occasionally interrupted by the bungling explanations attempted by Sir North of the different objects they passed, as he mistook in attempting to re-state the information he had received from the Rev. Mr. Turner. These explanatory observations of Sir North became more frequent, as his equanimity was by degrees revived by the confidence he felt, after the change of steeds, in his restored safety: as he himself technically expressed it, “His seat was now as secure as Old Sarum.”

“Pray observe,” said Sir North, “the secluded situation of these Druidical remains, which have withstood the changes of centuries, there to your right.”

“The Druidical remains I showed you,” said Mr. Turner in an under-tone, and as much in Sir North’s ear as the height of the little white pony he was riding would enable him to reach, “are half a mile farther to the left.”

“Pardon me, my good Sir,” said Sir North, “what is that which I see to the right?”

“The remains of a windmill, pulled down by order of the magistrates, for its neighbourhood to the high road,” replied the reverend Cicerone.

This little mistake of Sir North’s rather checked the torrent of his information, till, after passing a beautiful variety of highland and lowland, in crossing a succession of ridges, they at length arrived at the entrance of the rocky glen, through which they were to wind their way down to the sea. Here they were obliged to leave carriages and horses, as there was no longer any better road than the timber-track by which the produce of Sir North’s woods was annually taken to be shipped.

Lord Castleton, still in close attendance on Lady Madelina, after smoothing many little difficulties, and soothing many affected alarms in settling her upon her donkey, prepared to lead the animal down the path, into the wild and romantic scene whose bold features at every step became more striking.

He looked up on one side at the fantastic forms of the venerable trunks whose roots had for centuries been entwined in the rocky crags from which they grew, but whose wide-spreading branches then luxuriated in the green vigour of a summer foliage; and he looked down on the other at the clear unruffled surface of the brook, which ran murmuring below them. He scented the freshness of the hitherto untrodden fern, as his feet passed over it, and he then cast his eyes upon the fascinating but _fané_ beauty by his side, and felt that there was something uncongenial in visiting such a scene under the protection of such a guardian genius, one certainly better adapted to the artificial state in which he had been lately living than to the freshness and nature of the present. Her personal charms, too, no longer in their first bloom, suited better the softened light of the shaded boudoir than the searching glance of the evening sun, to which they were now exposed, as upon approaching the sea the wood no longer afforded the same shelter from its rays, and against the effect of which the utmost skill in the management of the pink parasol could not always guard its mistress, thwarted as her efforts were by the constant windings of the steep path by which they descended, and the rough motions of the humble donkey on which she was mounted; and even those graceful limbs, whose slightest movement had had its charm when stretched with studied ease upon the luxurious sofa, were now necessarily cramped into angles on an awkward side-saddle.

All these circumstances, though not embodied in the shape of distinct doses towards effecting Lord Castleton’s cure, had not been without their effect upon him. They had both been for some time silent, when, just before the last angle in the glen was to open to them that sea-view which was the object of their expedition, Lord Castleton stopping to re-arrange some part of Lady Madelina’s dress, which the uneasy motion of the donkey had discomposed, his ear caught for the first time the soothing sound of the measured breaking of the waters in their regular rise and fall against a sloping shore.

The very idea of eternal sameness with which this sound never fails to impress a romantic fancy when unexpectedly heard, has in itself a tendency to recall the different circumstances, to revive the faded feelings, and to connect the distant spots in which its unvaried monotony has met the ear.

It may already have been seen that Lord Castleton was by nature sufficiently romantic, and therefore he was immediately involved in a labyrinth of thick-coming recollections, which completely took off his attention from the occupation which would lately not have been without its interest, when all his pleasing reveries were dispelled by that voice, whose tones he so much admired, jarring upon his ear in _malapropos_ inquiry. “So, after all, Lady Waitfort could not get asked to Lady Delacour’s ball?”

The disgust that he felt at this ill-timed turn to his thoughts, he was not obliged to express; for just then they came within sight of the beautiful Bay to which they had been destined, and even Lady Madelina could not help exclaiming, “What a sweet spot!”

Now a sweet spot was not exactly the most appropriate expression for admiration of such a scene; but Lord Castleton was too grateful to her at the time for showing any feeling on the subject, to object to the aptness of the terms in which she vented it.

The “sweet spot” was a deeply indented bay, surrounded with perpendicular cliffs of a great height, which towards the two extremities of the inlet, cut the water in the shape of boldly jutting crags. In the centre they were intersected by the deep glen through which the party had descended; at the bottom of which the mountain-stream found its way to the sea; and even down to the beach, the sides of this glen were covered with fine trees and thriving shrubs; a rare circumstance in our northern latitudes.

There was in the solitude of the scene itself, and the grandeur of the outlines by which it was enclosed, that which seemed to mark it as a spot where, in one of her angry moods, Nature might choose to threaten some of those more awful and sublime appearances which she sometimes assumes; but at present, the gaiety of the season, the mildness of the air, the splendour of the setting-sun, and the calmness of the sea, the sameness of whose measured splash against the shore was not broken by the slightest swell from without, produced no more than a pleasing sensation of repose. There was no human habitation visible from the sea-shore; but on one of the banks which formed the sides of the glen, about half way from the summit to the shore, just on the single spot where the slope was more gradual, some smoke was seen curling from behind a grove of dwarf oaks; and still higher, taking advantage of a southern exposure, there appeared a garden, which ran upwards, till the cliff again becoming too perpendicular, it only communicated with the top by means of some steps cut in the rock, evidently with great attention to safety and even convenience. Judging by the little that could be seen of the environs of this dwelling, it might either be the residence of some retired mariner, who chose to pass his latter days upon an acquired competence, still within sight, though safe from the attacks of that element which had been the scene of his earlier adventures; or it might, on the other hand, be the dwelling of some opulent farmer, who had sought the shelter of this southern slope, from that exposure to which the upper land must there be subject.

At first, the party imagined that they were the only living creatures that at present tenanted the semicircular shores of the bay; but upon passing the angle of a rock which projected almost to the water’s edge, Lord Castleton and Lady Madelina discovered two youthful figures leaning against the gunwale of a solitary fishing-boat, which was moored close up to the cliff. The eldest of these two seemed a stout, healthy-looking lad of about sixteen, with a well-made figure and rather a handsome head, though, for the age which his general appearance indicated, his person was strong set and square, and his countenance marked and decided. His dress evidently bespoke a nautical calling, though it was of that indefinite description which might belong to any rank in the service of the sea; his dark-blue jacket and trowsers were, however, quite new, and apparently put on with some attention to effect; in his right hand he held by the middle a fresh-cut oaken staff, of that description which, among the lower orders, generally indicates an impending pedestrian journey, and which seemed equally well calculated to lend its assistance to the legs in their regular labours, and upon any extraordinary occasion, to give additional powers to the hand that held it. The top of this staff he leaned against his mouth, his eyes were intently fixed on the regular rise and fall of the waters before him, whilst the fingers of his left hand, which hung by his side, nervously grasped something, of which, as they half closed upon it, only the end of a blue ribbon appeared. By his side stood one of those figures, which occasionally and unexpectedly cross our path, to put us again in good humour with human nature, and prevent our being entirely disgusted with the endless varieties of ugliness of which the mortal machine is capable, by showing, on the other hand, the perfection of which the same conformation is sometimes susceptible in every rank and all situations. Here, a form, which among the nobly-born would have been said to bear the stamp of high birth--which, in the land of ancient tradition and sculptured authority, would have been said to show the signs of pure classical extraction, was found lowly born in an obscure corner of a rugged clime. Even the delicacy, which gave an unlooked-for charm to the appearance of one in that situation, was enhanced by her extreme youth. She was two years younger than her companion; and, though tall of her age, slight, and still childish in her form: the natural cheerfulness of her innocent countenance was then clouded by some present sorrow, which added to the interest she was calculated to inspire. Her right arm leaned lightly on the shoulders of her companion, and her eye, in which a tear still trembled, was fixed upon the hand which held the ribbon.

“What a perfect study for Gainsborough!” said Lord Castleton, as he and Lady Madelina stopped to gaze on the youthful couple, of whom, the angle of the rock had given them, unobserved, so near a view.

“Gainsborough!” said Lady Madelina, “I thought he made people with waspish waists and powdered hair; I am sure I never saw such a figure as he has made of Aunt Theodosia, in the picture-gallery at Lumberhead-hall.”

“Alas, poor Gainsborough! the native offspring of his tasteful imagination are no more like my aunt Theodosia, than that beautiful girl is like----.” He did not finish the sentence, but the look he gave might have said more than was either civil or welcome, had not the horizontal sun at that moment fortunately caused the interposition of the pink parasol.