LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER 10

       RANULPH ROOKWOOD

       Table of Contents

      Fer. Yes, Francisco, He hath left his curse upon me.

      Fran. How?

      Fer. His curse I dost comprehend what that word carries? Shot from a father’s angry breath? Unless I tear poor Felisarda from my heart, He hath pronounced me heir to all his curses.

      Shirley: The Brothers.

      “There is nothing, I trust, my dear young friend, and quondam pupil,” said Dr. Small, as the door was closed, “that weighs upon your mind, beyond the sorrow naturally incident to an affliction, severe as the present. Forgive my apprehensions if I am wrong. You know the affectionate interest I have ever felt for you — an interest which, I assure you, is nowise diminished, and which will excuse my urging you to unburden your mind to me; assuring yourself, that whatever may be your disclosure, you will have my sincere sympathy and commiseration. I may be better able to advise with you, should counsel be necessary, than others, from my knowledge of your character and temperament. I would not anticipate evil, and am, perhaps, unnecessarily apprehensive. But I own, I am startled at the incoherence of your expressions, coupled with your sudden and almost mysterious appearance at this distressing conjuncture. Answer me: has your return been the result of mere accident? is it to be considered one of those singular circumstances which almost look like fate, and baffle our comprehension? or were you nearer home than we expected, and received the news of your father’s demise through some channel unknown to us? Satisfy my curiosity, I beg of you, upon this point.”

      “Your curiosity, my dear sir,” replied Ranulph, gravely and sadly, “will not be decreased, when I tell you, that my return has neither been the work of chance — for I came, fully anticipating the dread event, which I find realized — nor has it been occasioned by any intelligence derived from yourself, or others. It was only, indeed, upon my arrival here that I received full confirmation of my apprehensions. I had another, a more terrible summons to return.”

      “What summons? you perplex me!” exclaimed Small, gazing with some misgiving into the face of his young friend.

      “I am myself perplexed — sorely perplexed,” returned Ranulph. “I have much to relate; but I pray you bear with me to the end. I have that on my mind which, like guilt, must be revealed.”

      “Speak, then, fearlessly to me,” said Small, affectionately pressing Ranulph’s hand, “and assure yourself, beforehand, of my sympathy.”

      “It will be necessary,” said Ranulph, “to preface my narrative by some slight allusion to certain painful events — and yet I know not why I should call them painful, excepting in their consequences — which influenced my conduct in my final interview between my father and myself — an interview which occasioned my departure for the Continent — and which was of a character so dreadful, that I would not even revert to it, were it not a necessary preliminary to the circumstance I am about to detail.

      “When I left Oxford, I passed a few weeks alone, in London. A college friend, whom I accidentally met, introduced me, during a promenade in St. James’s Park, to some acquaintances of his own, who were taking an airing in the Mall at the same time — a family whose name was Mowbray, consisting of a widow lady, her son, and daughter. This introduction was made in compliance with my own request. I had been struck by the singular beauty of the younger lady, whose countenance had a peculiar and inexpressible charm to me, from its marked resemblance to the portrait of the Lady Eleanor Rookwood, whose charms and unhappy fate I have so often dwelt upon and deplored. The picture is there,” continued Ranulph, pointing to it: “look at it, and you have the fair creature I speak of before you; the color of the hair — the tenderness of the eyes. No — the expression is not so sad, except when —— but no matter! I recognized her features at once.

      “It struck me, that upon the mention of my name, the party betrayed some surprise, especially the elder lady. For my own part, I was so attracted by the beauty of the daughter, the effect of which upon me seemed rather the fulfilment of a predestined event, originating in the strange fascination which the family portrait had wrought in my heart, than the operation of what is called ‘love at first sight,’ that I was insensible to the agitation of the mother. In vain I endeavored to rally myself; my efforts at conversation were fruitless; I could not talk — all I could do was silently to yield to the soft witchery of those tender eyes; my admiration increasing each instant that I gazed upon them.

      “I accompanied them home. Attracted as by some irresistible spell, I could not tear myself away; so that, although I fancied I could perceive symptoms of displeasure in the looks of both the mother and the son, yet, regardless of consequences, I ventured, uninvited, to enter the house. In order to shake off the restraint which I felt my society imposed, I found it absolutely necessary to divest myself of bashfulness, and to exert such conversational powers as I possessed. I succeeded so well that the discourse soon became lively and animated; and what chiefly delighted me was, that she, for whose sake I had committed my present rudeness, became radiant with smiles. I had been all eagerness to seek for some explanation of the resemblance to which I have just alluded, and the fitting moment had, I conceived, arrived. I called attention to a peculiar expression in the features of Miss Mowbray, and then instanced the likeness that subsisted between her and my ancestress. ‘It is the more singular,’ I said, turning to her mother, ‘because there could have been no affinity, that

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