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Golden Age and Other Stories Page 12
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ToolateElizabethreachedforthespeaking-trumpet:Wollstonecrafthadalreadybankeddeeplyleft, descendinginarushingwindthatblewawayElizabeth’sshoutofprotest.Mr.Darcywasindeednotfar fromthehunting-lodge,ridingalone.Heandhisalarmedhorselookedupatthesametime,andthepoor beastboltedoutfromunderhim.
“Whyeverdiditrun?”Wollstonecraftsaid,aggrieved,lookingafterthehorse.“Ididnotmeantoeat it;andifI hadmeanttoeatit,Icouldcertainlycatchit,whetheritranawayfrommeorno.”
“Yououghttoknowbynowahorsewillrunwhenyoucomedownbehindit;thatisnotacavalry-
mount, with a hood and blinders. Mr. Darcy! Are you very hurt?” Elizabeth called down anxiously, unlatchinghercarabiners,andsliddownWollstonecraft’ssidetofindthatgentlemandazedandwiththe breathknockedoutofhim,andabadlywrenchedknee.
“Icandoverywell,CaptainBennet,”hesaidinavoicesufficientlythinofairtobeliehiswords, andtriedtostand.
“You cannot at all,” Elizabeth said, bracing him just in time to prevent a collapse: the leg did not wish to bear his weight. “Whatever were you thinking?” she said to Wollstonecraft. “We must get him insidethehouse.”
“Iamsurethatneedbenogreatdifficulty,”Wollstonecraftsaid,andwithhertalonspriedopenthe largefrontdoorforthem,leavingtheironlockshangingfromthetorndoor-frame.“Nowitisopen.Here, Iwillputhiminside.”
Mr. Darcy submitted with more courage than grace to being gathered up in a Longwing’s talons.
When Wollstonecraft had deposited him more or less intact upon the floor of his entrance hall and Elizabethhadjoinedhimthere,withherhelpheleveredhimselfontoasofadrapedwithhollandcovers in the parlor just off the hall, and then said, “Thank you, Captain Bennet; if you will send word to the housewhenyouhavegonebacktothecovert,Iwouldbegrateful.”
Elizabethstruggledwiththenaturalinstincttoacceptthishint,andtherebyputaperiodtoascene whichcouldonlybefullofawkwardness;butguiltandpracticalityrestrainedher.“Icannotdesertyouin thisstatewhenwehavebeenthecauseofyourinjury,”shesaid,andreturningtothedoorwaycalledto Wollstonecrafttoflybacktothecovert,andsendforhelp.Sheturnedbackintotheparlorreluctantly.Mr.
Darcy had stretched out his injured leg, bracing the knee, and he had fixed his gaze resolutely upon the fine prospect outside the window, with a degree of attention better merited if a troop of Bonaparte’s soldiershadbeencrossingthelawn.
They neither of them spoke, until the silence had been prolonged beyond any reasonable duration betweentwopeoplewhohadneitherofthemanyoccupation,andElizabeth’ssenseoftheridiculouscame slowlytoherrescue.“Mr.Darcy!”shesaidatlast.“Isupposewecouldnothavefoundourselvesina moreawkwardsituation.Wemustconsideritanopportunitytodisplayourcharacters.Ifeartoexposemy ownaswretchedlyforward,butIwillventuretospeak.Ihopeyouwillpermitmetothankyouforthe letteryougaveme.”
Darcydidnotlookatherallatonce,butturnedhisheadinsuchawayastodirecthisgazenearher feet, and then lifted his eyes in one swift movement to her face, as though fearing what expression he shouldencounter.ButCaptainBennetonlysmiled,ortriedto,althoughconsciousmorethaneverthather feelings were far from what they ought to have been. Darcy’s reserve was not equal to concealing his suffering, given this much leave to express it; his looks betrayed him, and she could not see his unhappinesswithoutwishingalmosttoshareit.
“The only thanks which ought pass between us,” he said, nearly inaudibly, “must be mine, if you shouldacceptmyapologies.”
“Nonearenecessary.Ibegyounottorepineanyfurther.Mysituationissopeculiar,sounworldly onemightevensay,thateventhemostrefinedsenseofdecorummightfailasaguide.Iamverysensible oftheconsiderationthatyouhaveshownformyhonor,andsorrythatmyowncautionshouldhavefailed me. It is so many years since I gave over all thoughts of marriage, and in comparison to the unsettled situationofmysisters,andtheburdenofourmother’shopes,Ilittleregretteditthen.”
“Then? ”Mr.Darcycried,withameaningfulemphasisupontheword.
Elizabethcoloredandwassilent.Itwasnowherturntofeelshehadbetrayedherself.TogiveMr.
Darcy encouragement, when she could give him no hope, was cruelty; to permit herself to desire what mustbeforeverbeyondherreachanindulgenceshecouldnotafford.Butalas!theserationalconclusions did as much good to stem the tide of passion as might be expected from the usual efficacy of such measures.
“CaptainBennet,”Darcysaid,“—Elizabeth,”andstruggledtohisfeet,onlytonearlyoverbalance himselfagain.Shewentswiftlytohim.Hisarmleanedacrosshershoulders;herhandswerepressedto hisside,bearinguphisweight.Theylookedintooneanother’sfaces.
Darcy’srestraintfailedhim.“Elizabeth,willyou—”
“I cannot,” she said, cutting him short. A calm clarity, heretofore only experienced in the moments directlybeforebattle,hadsettleduponher.Herownchoicewasmade;nowhonordemandedshemake plainthelimitsofwhatshemightofferhim.“Icannotmarryyou.”
Darcy flinched and would have drawn away. Elizabeth reached her hand for his cheek and turned him back, and deliberately raised her chin. He trembled against her in understanding. For one moment longerhelifteduphiseyes,gazingblindlytowardsthewindow;thenheclosedthem,andbenthisheadto meetherlips.
CAPTAINBENNETreturnedtothecovertlatethatafternooningreatdisorderofspirit.Shehadknown thattheCorpsmightonedayaskhertosacrificehervirtue,inhopesofproducinganheirtohercaptaincy; andshehadbeenbluntlyandforthrightlyeducatedonthepracticalitiesbyCaptainSt.Germain.“AndI won’t tell you not to in the meantime,” that officer had added, “because that is of no use; this ain’t a nunnerywearelivingin.Onlybecautiousaboutit,andnevertakeoneofyourownofficerstobed.”
NoneofthisexcellentadvicehadpreparedElizabethfortheparticularevilsofherpresentsituation.
Shehadacceptedwithcalmresignationthelossofherreputationandtheapprovaloftheworld;shehad long known she would receive no respectable offers of marriage, and hoped only for an amiable, gentlemanlike arrangement with a fellow-officer, when the time came. But these sacrifices she had learnednottoregret.Thatagentlemanhadwisheddespiteeverybarrierbetweenthemtobestowuponher handandheart,andthatsheshouldsufferatrefusinghim,wasagriefforwhichshehadneverlooked.
“Andtosuchanoffer!”shecriedtoherself,aloneinhersmalltentandlookingonceagainthrough tears at the fatal letter, “—to such a gesture, I have offered in return only the lowest, most vulgar expressionoffeeling;inexchangeforthehonorhehasdoneme,Ihaveonlystainedhis,withnohopeof everrepairingthespot.Whathaveeitherofusgainedbyit,butuneasinessandworseregrets?Andyet, whenthisisallImayeverhaveofhim—”
ReflectiondidnoteaseeitherCaptainBennet’spainorherguiltyconscience.Shepassedanuneasy night, wondering alternately when next she would have the power of being alone with Mr. Darcy, and hopingforthestrengthofwilltoavoidanothersuchencounter;shesleptonlyfitfully,towardsthehoursof the morning, and roused with difficulty at the sound of a throat cleared outside her tent. She gathered herself hurriedly, and coming outside found her first lieutenant, Cheadle, awaiting her urgently with a freshdispatch.
Shebrokethewaferandreadthemessage.Mingledreliefand
regret:shefeltatoncethatahandhad been stretched forth to save her, only a little too late. “Mr. Cheadle,” she said, “pray send to Captain Winslow and the other captains. Admiral Roland requires us at Folkestone without delay. It seems Bonapartemeanstotryanothercrossing,andwemustbetheretostophim.”
LIEUTENANTGARDINER'SLondonestablishmentwasfamiliar,comfortable,andquiet;anidealsetting forawoundedsoldier,andthecarefulandaffectionatenursingofherauntGardinershortlysawElizabeth pastthecrisisofthefeverishwoundshehadtakenatthebattleofShoeburyness.Butitleftherwithcause for regret at her surroundings: there was little remaining to distract her heart from its unfortunate occupation.
WhenNapoleonhadbeentramplingthefieldsofBritain,andsheandWollstonecrafthadnightlyto scourtheChannelforanysignofFrenchshipstryingtobringovermoresoldiersforhisarmyofconquest, shemightthrustMr.Darcyfromhermindwithsomesuccess.Lyinginapeacefulbedroom,withaview overthesmallgardentenantedbyno-onemoreexcitingthanheryoungestcousins,whofurthermorehad been abjured to keep quiet to avoid disturbing the convalescent, the matter proved considerably more difficult.
InvaindidElizabethorderherselftoforget.Theworstdangertoherhealthpast,considerationfor Wollstonecraft’s anxiety had won her the liberty of leaving her bed and going to the covert for a visit, onceeachday,butthishavingbeenaccomplished,CaptainBennetwasorderedbacktoherbedwithvery littletodo,andallofthatsadlyuninterestingandfaded.Shehadalwaysbeenusedtofinddiversionin manyplaces,butnowbooksslippedoutofherhandsandslidtothecoverletwiththeirpagesunturned; trayswerecarriedawaywithonlyafewmouthfulstaken;andsheansweredwithsomuchdistractionand restlessness,whenherauntsatwithher,thatMrs.Gardinerbegantobeafraidforherhealth,andspeakto LieutenantGardinerofcallinginaphysician.
But Admiral Roland came to her first, a fortnight after the battle, with a better medicine. “Bennet, you have a listless air,” she said, with her blunt kindness. “The hole those Frenchmen put through your sidehashealednicely,soIdaresayyouhadbettergetbacktoyourduties:itwillonlybelightworkfora whilenow,forallofus.Inanycase,”sheadded,“youwillneedtobeonyourfeetThursdayweek.They aregoingtomakeyouKnightoftheBath:itwillbeintomorrow’sGazette.”
Elizabethhadatfirsttoovercomethemostextremeastonishmentatthisnewsbeforeshewasableto expressthesentimentsofgratitudeanddelightnaturaltoanyyoungofficerinlikecircumstances.Wemay wellsupposetheseincreasedbyhercompletelackofanticipationofthehonortobebestoweduponher.
“No, you may thank General Wellesley,” Admiral Roland said, when Elizabeth attempted to thank her.“TheAdmiraltywouldbedelightedtogoonpretendingwedon’texist,exceptwhenweareintheair, but he has no notion of brooking it, and you may well imagine the lot of them are ready to give him anythingandeverything,atpresent.”
Such an interesting piece of news could not fail to lift Captain Bennet’s spirits—and Admiral Roland’sprescriptionwaseagerlyseizedupon;assoonashervisitorhadgone,Elizabethrosefromher sick-bed and dressed in haste, meaning to go and share the news with Wollstonecraft. But she had no soonerfinishedtyingherneckclothwhenoneoftheservantscametoherroom,wide-eyed,toinformher thataladyhadcalleduponher,anddemandedtoseeheratonce.
“Alady?”Elizabethsaid,insomepuzzlement.
It was indeed a lady: the card upon the salver read Lady Catherine de Bourgh, whose name was onlydimlyfamiliar—somestrugglewasrequiredbeforeElizabethrecalledthatMr.Darcyhadanaunt,of thatname.“Butwhatevercanhavebroughthertoseeme?”Elizabethsaid,wonderingalsoatthelackof propriety in Lady Catherine’s coming to call upon a stranger in so insistent a manner, without any introductiontoestablishtheacquaintance.ButshecouldnotrefusearelationofMr.Darcy’s,andthough wishingnothingmorethantobegone,sheshiftedherclothingoncemoretoputonamorningdress,and descendedtogreetLadyCatherine.
She found that noblewoman, dressed with far more grandeur than was appropriate to the occasion and the hour, standing stiffly by the mantelpiece in the sitting-room and inspecting with a disapproving expressionthehandfulofsmallwatercolorsdisplayeduponthewallstherein,whichwerenotfashionable but merely the handiwork of Mrs. Gardiner’s children. “Ma’am,” Elizabeth said, and only just rememberedtocurtsey,insteadofbow.
“You are Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” Lady Catherine demanded. Elizabeth admitted it. “I am Lady Catherine de Bourgh—I am, indeed, the aunt of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, and his nearest living relation.
Having said so much, I fancy I can have left you in no doubt of the cause which has compelled me to approachyou.”
“Yourladyshipisquitemistaken,”Elizabethsaid,withincreasingreserve;shecouldnotwishbutto like any of Mr. Darcy’s relations, but it was impossible to excuse the brusqueness of Lady Catherine’s manner.“Icannotintheleastaccountforthehonorofyourvisit.”ButnosoonerhadElizabethspokenthan sheforciblyrecalledtheterribleextentofFrenchdepredationsinthefinalweeksofthewar,andalarm madeherforgetdecorum—shetookastepintotheroomandcriedout,“Mr.Darcyisnot—yournephew iswell?”
ButLadyCatherineonlycoloredwithanger.“Letitbeunderstoodatonce,MissBennet,thatIwill brook neither impertinence nor insincerity,” she said. “You will not claim the right to make such an inquiryofme,whiledenyingmemyrightstodemandanaccountingfromyou.”
Reassuredthatshecouldnothavereceivedthisanswer,aspeculiarasitwas,ifMr.Darcyhadbeen seriously injured, Elizabeth had now only to be baffled. “Your ladyship must excuse me from willfully provokinganysuchcharge.Icanonlyassureyouonceagainofmyverysincereconfusion,andurgeyouto speakplainly.”
“Very well, Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine said. “My character has always been of a forthright nature, and if you will insist upon evasions, I will meet them with frankness. My daughter and I were forcedbytheinvasiontoleaveourhomeinRosingsPark,andseekarefugewithmynephewathishome in Derbyshire. We found him very altered. He would not at first confess the cause, but when I had questioned the servants, I learned that Pemberley had lately been compelled to house a host of dragons and aviators, and that you yourself, Miss Bennet, had formed one of their number, and were, indeed, servingasanaviatoryourself.—Well?Doyoudenythisshockingreport?”
“Idonot,”Elizabethsaid,hertemperrisingatthetonesinwhichLadyCatherineutteredthenameof aviator.
“Andyouavowitsobrazenly!Thatyouhavesunksoentirelybeneathreproach!”
“If I could consider myself to have done so, in serving my King, I might indeed feel shame,”
Elizabethsaid.“ButIcannot,andifyourladyshipmeanstospeakinsultinglyoftheCorps,Imustbegto beexcusedfromanyfurtherconversation.”
“Not so fast, if you please!” Lady Catherine said. “You shall not escape me so easily. I have not cometoreproachyouforstainingyourowncharacterandreputation,whichmustbethebusinessofyour ownfamily,butthatofagentlemanofirreproachablehonorandancientfamily—Iamspeakingofmyown nephew.”
Halted by this accusation, too close to those she had leveled against herself, Elizabeth did not immediatelyquittheroom,andLadyCatherineseizedupontheopeningthusaffordedhertopresshome her attack. “My inquiries further uncovered the most appalling intelligence, surely a scand
alous falsehood, that through the association thus unavoidably thrust upon him, you had practiced upon him—
youhadenticedhim—tosuchlengthsthathewasonthepointofmakingyou— you—anofferofmarriage.
“Icouldnotinsultmynephewsofarastobroachthesubjectwithhim.Iknewitmustnotbethetruth
—Iknewhewouldnevercommitsogreatanoffenseagainsttheproprietyandreputationofhisfamily.
ButIhavebeenresolvedtoconfrontyou,assoonastheunsettledstateofthecountrysideshouldallowit, andtomakeplaintoyouthatyourwilesshallneverachievethisdisgracefulalliance.Nowwhathaveyou tosayforyourself?”
“Nothing whatsoever, to one so wholly unconnected to me, and who has not scrupled to offer me everyformofinsult,”Elizabethsaid,andonlytheverystrongestfeelingforMr.Darcypreventedherfrom givingaharsheranswer.“Yourladyshipmustexcuseme;Icanendurenomore.”Shelefttheroomwithout waitingforanotherword,shuttingthedoorfirmlybehindher,andrandirectlyupstairstoherroom,where she paced the narrow confines of her chamber in great disorder of spirit, as conscious of guilt as Lady Catherinemighthavewished,iffromaverycontrarymotive.
That Lady Catherine thought only of her nephew’s reputation in the eyes of the world, and cared nothingeitherforhisvirtueorhishappiness,wasmanifest,andherill-bredinsultsinvitednoanswerbut scorn.ButElizabethcouldnotignorethat she,too,hadsafeguardedonlythefirst,andwoundedthelatter.