LITMIR.BIZ

IV.—THE LITTLE CHAPEL.

       Table of Contents

      Lord Derwentwater then took his royal guest to the stables, and showed him his fine stud of horses, with which the prince was greatly pleased. After looking over the collection, his highness made choice of a strong hackney for his proposed journey. The earl offered him his own dapple-grey steed, but the prince would not deprive him of his favourite.

      No precise orders were given, but two of the grooms were told that they might have to set out for London on the morrow, and must therefore make all needful arrangements. The men asked no questions, but promised that his lordship's injunctions should be attended to.

      Father Norham had not accompanied the party to the stables, but proceeded to the little chapel before alluded to, where he was joined by the prince, and received his highness's confession.

      Mass was afterwards performed, at which most of the household assisted—several of the female servants being present.

      It was a pleasing sight to see the little place of worship on that interesting occasion. Doubtless, many of the persons there assembled thought more of the prince than of their devotions, but their behaviour was extremely decorous.

      The chapel was not larger than an ordinary room, and very simply furnished. In a small oaken pew at the upper end, on the right of the altar, sat the Chevalier de Saint George—almost concealed from view. In a similar pew on the left were the Earl of Derwentwater and his brother. On wooden benches behind were collected the servants—the women sitting by themselves on the left. Many a curious eye was fixed on the prince whenever he arose. The solemn service was admirably performed by Father Norham.

      Strange thoughts possessed Lord Derwentwater. In the family vault beneath the chapel lay his sire and grand-sire, both of whom had been devoted to the Stuarts. Might not their shades be hovering around? Exceedingly superstitious, the earl thought so, and so did Charles Radclyffe.

      The congregation had dispersed—long to remember the event.

      Before quitting the chapel, the prince said to the earl:

      “Are not some of your family buried here, my lord?”

      “My father and my grandfather,” replied the other. “And if aught could rouse them from their slumbers it would be your majesty's presence.”

      The prince remained silent for a moment, looking very grave, and then said:

      “You will scarce credit me when I tell you that I saw—or fancied I saw—two figures standing between me and the altar. Their mournful looks seemed to convey a warning. I saw them only for a moment. They pointed to you and your brother, and then disappeared. What think you of this? Were they phantoms?”

      “I know not what to think,” replied the earl. “No such appearances have ever been beheld before, but then no prince of your royal house has ever before knelt within this chapel. We will consult Father Norham anon. Meantime, let me take your majesty to the garden. You must banish these gloomy thoughts.”

      A stroll through the charming gardens quickly produced the desired effect. As yet the prince had seen nothing of the beauties of the place, and was unacquainted with the commanding position of the castle. The view from the terrace enchanted him, and he remained for some time contemplating the lovely scene in silence, and then broke out into raptures. By his own request he was next taken to the deer-park, and halted on the bridge to look at the castle. It has already been mentioned that this was the best point from which the stately structure could be surveyed, and the prince was of that opinion.

      “How well the castle looks as it towers above us,” he cried, “and what a striking picture it makes, combined with this deep glen, the rushing stream, and yonder woods, with the Tyne in the distance! You could not have a nobler residence, cousin.”

      “Undoubtedly, my liege, I ought to be content with it,” rejoined the earl; “and so I am. Yet I must own I should prefer the old stronghold that once stood there, and of which you have just seen a relic; and had it not been demolished by my grandfather, Earl Francis, I would have preserved it. Imagine how well the stern old pile must have looked, perched on that height, and how completely it must have harmonised with this ravine, and with the woods. Its position and strength considered, it is not surprising that the Scottish marauders, though they often came in force, could never take it. The fortress might have stood a siege in our own time.”

      “Very true,” replied the prince, smiling. “And on that account its destruction may be regretted. Otherwise, the modern building is most to my taste. I could desire nothing better.”

      “I trust, ere long, Windsor Castle may be yours, my liege,” said Lord Derwentwater; “and then you will think little of Dilston.”

      “Dilston cannot vie with Windsor, that is certain, cousin. Nevertheless, it is a splendid place, and you are fortunate in possessing it. The mansion only wants one thing to make it perfect. You can guess what I mean. But I will tell you plainly. A lady ought to grace it.”

      “I shall wait till your majesty is restored before I take a wife,” said the earl.

      “Why wait?” said the Chevalier de Saint George. “Has no fair Northumbrian damsel caught your eye? I am told Tom Forster's sister, Dorothy, is marvellously beautiful. She may not be rich, but you do not want a dower.”

      “Dorothy Forster is a very charming girl, I admit, and has many agreeable qualities, but I never thought seriously of her.”

      “Strange you should have alluded to her in one of your letters to me.”

      “Your majesty reminds me that I compared her very advantageously with her brother, who is a mere country squire, and not remarkable for wit, whereas Dorothy is extremely lively and clever, besides being very pretty. But I didn't mean to intimate that I had fallen in love with her.”

      “You gave me that impression, I confess, cousin,” said the Chevalier de Saint George. “I fully expected your next letter would tell me you were engaged to her. Is she very young?”

      “About eighteen, I fancy.”

      “Just the age. And she rides well, I think you said?”

      “Admirably. Tom Forster keeps the best pack of hounds in the country, and she goes out with them.”

      “I only see one objection. Her brother does not belong to our religion.”

      “But she does,” rejoined the earl.

      “Then you cannot do better than make choice of her.”

      “Even if I were to take your majesty's advice, it does not follow I should be accepted.”

      “Bah! the Earl of Derwentwater is not likely to be refused.”

      “Dorothy Forster will wed no one she does

Скачать книгу