Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 313: what you’re looking at

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

300 me However, I was resolved to communicate with you—I penned but two lines on a piece of paper—for I dreaded lest by any accident the billet should be picked up by another 4 “And those lines, Calanthe,” I said,—“ what were they ?” “ Merely to the effect ‘that a captive lady de- manded your sympathy : for I knew full well that if the billet fell into your hands, you would at once recognise the writing—and that it would be a revelation for you. Scarcely was the deed done when I bitterly repented of my rashness: for the ‘voice of Shackleford, reaching my ears in its wrathful ejaculations, told me but too plainly that my project had failed. However, accident has thrown us together at length; and it was the happiest moment of my life when last evening, on raising my eyes, they encountered your looks !” I gazed upon Calanthe with a degree of com- passion which in the fervour of her own love she might have well taken for a reciprocal feeling; and seizing one of my hands, she pressed it to her lips. * Now, Joseph,’ she went on to say, “ what are we to do?’—and she looked wistfully upon me. “You cannot remain here,’ I answered vehe- mently: “ you must not No, no—it would be the height of cruelty !” “ Cruelty indeed, Joseph!” she rejoined. “ Be- sides,” she added, glancing first towards me, and then looking down on the face of the child, who was slumbering in her arms, “ you must give a father’s name to this dear babe of our’s—you must give me a right, Joseph, to regard you as my own!” “Yes, yes, Calanthe!” I replied, with distress in my soul, as the image of Annabel rose up before me: but instantaneously smitten with a sense of duty towards that child and its mother—a duty which was paramount over all other considerations, —I hastened to add, “Yes, Calanthe—I must take upon myself the responsibilities of a husband and a father She did not see that there was any constraint in my manner—that there was anything forced in the way in which I expressed myself: but again press- ing my hand to her lips, she murmured “ Dearest, dearest Joseph! happier shall I be in the humblest cottage with you, than in a palace if mated with one whom I could not love!” What was I to say? what was I to doP Ca- lanthe adored me: her whole heart was devoted to me:—in me was her soul wrapped up, Fondly as she had loved me from the first, it was natural that she should love me more than ever since she had become a mother. She gazed upon me with adoration in her looks: she gazed upon her infant with a mingling of the sweetest affection and the loftiest maternal pride. I felt bound to accom- pany her to the altar—bound to toil to maintain that offspring of a bygone interval of infatuated passion! It was not for me to argue that I no longer loved Calanthe, even in the same sense in which I had been attracted towards her at Mrs. Robinson’s: it was sufficient that she had surren- dered her honour up to me—and I was bound to repay her with honourable treatment. Besides, I JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. offspring of that mad passion; and for the sake of both, every selfish feeling must be laid aside— every other sentiment put out of the question! Annabel would be lost to me: but this was the penalty which I had now to pay for my former in- fidelity to her :—it was the condign punishment of my weakness and my error. * Yes, Calanthe,” I said, “if you do not trem- ble at the idea of linking your fate with one who has nothing but his own industry to depend upon af “No, dearest Joseph!” she interrupted me; “T have no fear of anything except of being sepa- rated from you. Now listen! At the time I was brought hither by my father, he did his best to avert all suspicion as to the cruel prisonage to which he had foredoomed me. He bade me bring all my effects—my valuables and my jewels—as it would be given out to the family in general that I had again gone on a visit to my sister-in-law, Lady Georgiana Tiverton. He gave me, too, a sum of money —about two hundred pounds, I think, though I have never had the curiosity to examine the purse closely,—alleging that it was a subsidy for my expenses during my retirement. All this he did, you comprehend, Joseph, to prevent me from suspecting that treachery was meditated: for he knew my spirit well enough—and he judged likewise by my former flight from home—so as to make him fear lest I should flee a second time, If I mention all these things, it is only to show you that we shall not be without immediate re- sources. With my money and jewels we may command at least five or six hundred pounds; and we are neither of us, dear Joseph, absolutely de- ficient in intelligence :—so that we may lay out our little means in a manner that will forward whatsoever views we may entertain. When once united, we need no longer tremble at the name of the Earl of Mandeville.” | Lady Calanthe Dundas made all those allusions to her pecuniary position in so delicate a way, and seemed so fearful of offending my own feelings, that I could not possibly help being touched by this fresh proof of her devoted and thoroughly un- selfish love. This love of her’s had proved to me a source of bitterness—was proving so still—and threatened to prove even worse: namely, fatal to all the fond hopes I had cherished in respect to Annabel. But still it was.a love which could not be made a reproach against her who bore it: nor was I ungenerous enough to display whatsoever bitterness of feeling it excited within me. I felt that it was my destiny to become her husband— and that therefore it was now my duty to extricate her as soon as possible from her imprisonment at Heather Place. I accordingly began to speak on this subject. “Your liberation, Calanthe,” I said, “canuot take place allin a moment. It is true I possess the keys of your prison-doors—or with little trouble you might even now climb these palisades, with my assistance. But if our flight were speedily discovered, a chase would be instituted, and we should be brought back.” “TI have already reflected upon these things,” observed Calanthe. “Nor can our flight take place in the night; for it would be death to our beloved child to expose it to the cold air.” was equally bound to give a father’s name to the’ “I must make arrangements for the hiring of Giyoo <5) (©) im