Rosa Lambert — page 79: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

~~ 68 denly converted into mortal foes two men who were intimate friends a few instants before, and which would lead to the risking of lives—perhaps to bloodshed and death—on my account. That faintness however was quickly succeeded by a renewal of wild affright, as I thought of these probabilities ; and in a frenzied state I rushed to the window. Alvanly was passing along the street in one direction—Fortescue in another. They had separated—but perhaps only to seek each a friend in order to prepare for extremities! What was I to doP Must a duel take place on my account P Oh, I was powerless to prevent it! A thousand wild ideas swept through my brain. I would hasten to Gustavus—I would implore him to forgive me—I would consent to remain true ROSA LAMBERT, epee eeeeestamesnaioeeneea beheld a gory corpse standing by my bedside, re- proaching me as the authoress of its murder: then it seemed that the corpse itself lay stretched by my side—that my eyes were open—that I was gazing upon it in @ dread horror which kept me immoveable—and that its dull glassy orbs, fixed with the stony glare of death, were riveted upon me. These and other equally frightful visions made me pass the most shocking of nights; and when L awoke in the morning I was so ill, but at the same time so nervously excited, that I felt as if I must do something desperate—yet I knew not what—to shake off the dreadful sensation which clung to me like a poisoned garment. I looked at my watch: it was past eight o’clock. I remembered having read in novels and in news- and faithful to him if he would forego this duel! | papers that duels invariably took place at a very The thought was ridiculous: though he had so early hour in the morning ere the life of the great magnanimously forborne from reproaches, yet | city was well awake; and now the agonizing idea would he doubtless spurn me if I sought him at his own dwelling, Besides, he had seen my lips | flashed to my mind that perhaps a human exist- ence had already passed away on my account— pressed to those of his rival—he had scen that | peradventure even two lives if the worst had been rival’s arm clasping my neck—he knew that I had listened with pleasure to the language of love: how could he forgive me ? how could he even confide in me any more? Then I would hasten to Regi- nald Fortescue—I would vow and declare that if he fought this duel, there should be an end to everything between us—and that I would recall the promise of love which had been given by the kisses from my lips. No: this project was as insane as the other. The world’s code of honour, as fantastic as it is barbaric, would demand that Reginald Fortescue should meet Gustavus in a duel, if the latter thought fit to provoke it; and could I expect that, even as the price of my love, an officer with a sword by his side would consent to brand himself with dshonour? Oh, there was nothing that I could do to prevent this hostile meeting—it must take place—and in the interval what hideous, horrible, excruciating suspense would be mine! Yes : and such was indeed my portion for many long weary hours. Dinner was served up: I sat down to table—but scarcely a mouthful passed my lips: I only went through the ceremony to prevent the domestics from imagining there was something wrong. That they as yet entertained no such sus- | picion, I was assured : for no disturbance had taken place—the two rivals had conducted themselves not merely with gentlemanly calmness, but also with the utmost discretion. Even Mrs. Harbo- rough herself could have no surmise of what had taken place or what was in progress; or she would very soon, with her brazen impudence, have come up to me to worm out explanations. But what almost preterhuman efforts it cost me to pre- serve a degree of calmness in presence of the ser- vant who waited at table—and likewise before Frances, when I retired for the night! I was glad to find myself at length alone. Glad !—no the term is inconsistent with the true state of my feelings: though in one sense it was a relief to be thus enabled, in the solitude of my chamber, to give unrestrained vent to my tears— for they did flow profusely the instant Irances had withdrawn. Hours elapsed ere I could close my eyes in slumber; and when sleep was at length brought on as the effect of sheer exhaustion, it was haunted witb, troubled dreams. Methought L accomplished ; or at all events, fearful injuries and ghastly wounds might have been inflicted. It was horrible—horrible! Oh, the worthless being that I was in comparison with two valuable human lives!—and that such lives, emanating from the Divinity itself, should be endangered, or perhaps positively lost, for such a creature as [—it seemed a monstrous outrage upon the providence of heaven itself! When Frances entered the room to assist me with my morning toilet, she was evidently struck by my appearance; and after some little hesita- tion, said, “Ido not think you are well to-day, ma’am P” “ No—I have a bad headache: but I hope it will be better presently. Give me my wrapper: I will not linger at the toilet-table now: you shall do my hair presently.” I descended to the breakfast-parlour; and scarcely had I reached it, when a note was brought. up by the servant of the house. I instantaneously recognised Mr. Alvanly’s handwriting; and the horrible thought flashed to my mind that Reginald Fortescue had been killed. Or else wherefore had not he come? wherefore had he not written? A film came over my eyes: the room seemed to be turning round: the note dropped from my hand. But this incident recalled me to full life; and un- able to endure suspense any longer, I tore oper the billet. Its contents ran as follow :— “* May Fair, June 15th, 1841, ‘¢ ROSE, ‘Ag a matter of course everything is at en end be- tween us. I have jast encountered Captain Fortescue on hostile ground : my left arm is slightly touched—but it is nothing ; and you need not experience any remorse on that score. We separate: we part, to meet not again—or if to meet, only as mere passing acquaintances. Such is the way of the world. Those who are most int mate one day, may become comparative strangers the next. I bear no ill-will towards you: I do not think you have any particular cause to be unfriendly towards me, Ihave loved you—perhaps better than I ever loved any woman yet: but I neither pay myself such an ill compliment, nor believe you to be so eredulous, a3 to suppose that I shall not be ablo to surmount the feeling. ‘7 write this principally to give you the assurance that Lam not embittered against you : I have another motive; and it is this :—Knowing something of your disposition, and giving you credit for a great deal of da- A Te ‘*