CHAP. IX. A DISCOVERY.

“And so you have no desire to live in the gay world of fashion, Lilya?” inquired Oriel Porphyry, as they sat together on the sofa.

“I do not understand what fashion means,” replied the simple girl.

“Fashion itself is merely the way in which a certain class of persons dress, think, speak, and conduct themselves,” said Oriel. “And the world of fashion is this exclusive class, with all its gaieties, its frivolities, its prejudices, its follies, and its crimes.”

“If there is any thing wrong in it, I certainly should not like to live there,” observed Lilya.

“What, not to partake of its brilliant pleasures, of its balls, operas, concerts, dinners, and fêtes?” asked the young merchant.

“The things you mention I know nothing of. Where do they grow?” inquired his fair companion.

“They do not grow, Lilya,” replied Oriel, with a smile; “they are the amusements of the world of fashion. A ball is a collection of persons, or rather the amusement of a collection of persons brought together for the purpose of enjoying the diversion of dancing; and dancing is a gliding motion of the feet, by which the body is moved in different attitudes from one place to another.”

“And do people amuse themselves in this way; or is it an amusement for others to look upon?” asked Lilya.

“It is the amusement in which both sexes most delight,” said the young merchant. “They meet together in rooms such as this cabin, only much larger, and much more gay, where music is provided; and directly the music plays, they are all set in motion, and so continue till the dance is over. Some dances consist in whirling round, others in bounding forward, and a great number in gliding from place to place.”

“I do not think a ball would amuse me; I should soon get tired of such exertion, especially as I cannot perceive what causes the amusement,” said Lilya.

“The amusement, I believe, is more generally created by the persons who are brought together than by any quality in the dance,” observed Oriel. “But it is considered a graceful and agreeable way of passing the time; and, to young people particularly, it appears to possess very great attractions. It might be rendered a profitable exercise, but the heat and glitter of a ball-room is not the place in which it can be made most advantageous.”

“I would rather run after the leveret, or chase the young deer for exercise,” observed the simple girl.

“Operas and concerts are places where fashionable people meet to hear music,” continued the young merchant. “It is rarely that the best music is played there; but, generally, the best performers are there to be met with.”

“I would rather hear Zabra,” exclaimed the bashful maiden, hanging down her head as if afraid the acknowledgment might not have been proper.

“And so would I a thousand times,” replied the young merchant, emphatically. “For in him we might be sure of finding something like nature, which is not to be hoped for at operas or concerts. As for dinners and fêtes, they are merely for the purpose of allowing people to eat and drink together, talk, stare, push, squeeze, and elbow.”

“Then I have no desire for any of these,” said Lilya. “I do not perceive the pleasure they would confer. I would rather be what I am, than exist in a state such as you have described.”

“But that cannot be Lilya,” observed Oriel, kindly. “I am going to put you under the protection of a lady—of the lady whom I love, Lilya. She is a beautiful, accomplished, and amiable woman, of high family, and admirable disposition; and, as she is obliged to find friends and acquaintances in the circle I have pointed out to your attention, you must from the same source derive all your social enjoyments; and then you will be clothed in silks and velvets, feathers and diamonds—will not that delight you?”

“Do these fine things make the possessor happy?” asked his companion.

“To tell you the truth Lilya, I do not think they do,” replied Oriel Porphyry.

“Then I will have none of them,” she exclaimed. “I know that I can be happy in these humble skins that I have put together with my own hands; but I know not that I can be happy in the gay things to which I am unused; and I would rather retain what I possess, than give it up for an uncertainty.”

“But the Lady Eureka, with whom you will stay, makes use of these things,” said the young merchant; “and, unless you mean to offend your best friends, you must do the same.”

“I will wear them if my friends wish it,” observed the simple girl; “but I would rather not, because I should appear so awkward in them.”

“I do not fear that,” exclaimed the young merchant. “You will not be allowed to wear them till you know in what manner they should be worn; and that you should look, and act, and think, as becomes one who is the Lady Eureka’s friend. The most skilful masters in every department of education will be provided for you; and every endeavour will be made to render you as elegant, intellectual, and agreeable a woman as the world of fashion can produce.”

“Will Zabra be there?” inquired Lilya, timidly.

“Yes, I think so. I’ve no doubt he will,” replied Oriel Porphyry.

“Then I should like to be there!” murmured his fair companion, with marked emphasis on the pronoun. “And the Lady Eureka you speak of—do you love her?

“Indeed I do, Lilya,” replied the young merchant, earnestly; “and you will find her worthy of being beloved. She is beautiful, good, affectionate, and intelligent.”

“And does she love you in return?” asked Lilya.

“It is my happiness to believe so,” responded Oriel.

“How delightful it must be for both of you,” exclaimed the simple girl, with her face beaming with animation as she turned her soft blue eyes full upon her companion.

“And you shall share in this delight, Lilya, if you prove yourself worthy of it,” said Oriel, kindly. “Eureka is distinguished for her superior excellence; and she cannot love you unless you possess goodness to recommend you to her. There is nothing in the world that a woman ought so much to pride herself upon as the purity of her actions. She ought not to allow any one even to suspect her of wrong; and if her behaviour is free from mystery or deceit, she will never give cause for suspicion. The first step towards the commission of great criminality in a woman, is a carelessness in tolerating familiarities from more than one, that are not considered any thing beyond trifling gallantries from the one by whom she is truly loved; and from that one only can such things be permitted, because in this instance they become the natural signs of a sincere affection, that are peculiarly graceful and refreshing in their influence: but as the wife confines all expressions of affection to her husband, so ought the loved one to preserve all her devotion for her lover. Their situations are exactly similar; and ’t is as great a crime for a woman to deceive her lover by allowing others to share in her affections, as it is for a wife to betray her husband by a violation of the marriage vow.”

“I do not understand you,” said Lilya, looking considerably puzzled and bewildered.

“Ah! I forgot it was to you I was speaking,” replied Oriel. “But what I meant to express to you is, that if you wish to insure and preserve the good opinion of those whose good opinion is most valuable to you, you will show yourself particularly anxious to become distinguished for excellence of conduct and goodness of disposition.”

“Ah, that is just what Zabra has told me,” exclaimed the blushing maiden, “He used to be always talking to me in that way; and told me so much that was proper for me to know, and looked so kind, and appeared so attentive, that I was always delighted to hear him. But he no longer talks to me in that manner. He is now harsh in his language, and stern in his gaze; and he will scarcely look or speak to me.”

“Have you not been able to induce him to return to us? I should have thought your intreaties would have been complied with immediately,” said the young merchant.

“Alas, no!” replied Lilya, sorrowfully. “All my intreaties have been disregarded.”

“Then you must allow me to make you forget him till he comes to his senses,” said Oriel.

“No, I cannot forget him—I’m sure I cannot forget him—indeed, I cannot forget him,” exclaimed the artless girl.

“He scarcely deserves to be so well remembered,” observed the young merchant. “In fact I am beginning to feel angry with him for being so obstinate.”

“Oh, do not be angry with him!” exclaimed Lilya, earnestly; “you must not be angry with him, for I am sure he is unhappy.”

“Well, then, if I promise you not to be angry, you must allow me to be as kind to you as you would wish him to be,” said Oriel Porphyry. “For I cannot suffer a creature so unoffending as you are to be made wretched by such unreasonable conduct. I shall regard you as a favorite sister; and I feel just as much interested in your happiness as if you were so dearly related to me. I will not allow you to have a wish ungratified that is harmless and natural. I will endeavour to afford you whatever pleasure you most delight in, that I have the means of procuring; and I will watch over you, and guard you from all evil, and shield you from every danger.”

“Oh, how good you are!” murmured the gentle girl, raising her beautiful eyes, suffused with tears, to his face.

“And I shall expect in return for all this attention to your welfare, that you will regard me with a sisterly affection,” continued the other. “You must be as kind to me as I will be to you. You must endeavour always to appear cheerful and willing to be pleased. Every effort that I make to render your life an enjoyment to you, you must respond to by showing the gladness it ought to produce. You must be attentive to my instructions, obedient to my wishes, be gratified with my attentions, and satisfied with the exertions I shall make to insure your happiness.”

“Indeed, I will!” exclaimed the timid maiden, affectionately clasping the hand of Oriel in her own.

“It will be a most pure and exquisite pleasure to me to be allowed to labour in such a good work as creating the felicity of so gentle and innocent a creature,” said the young merchant; his noble countenance beaming with benevolence. “It will be a labour of which my father would be proud; and to do as he would do must always appear to me to be the highest degree of excellence. It will be delightful to be loved as a brother, and to show a brother’s care and anxiety and solicitude. It will be admirable to be able to enjoy the sweet sympathies of a nature such as yours, and to live in the enjoyment of an interchange of endearments so purifying to the heart as ours will be. I must be loved Lilya. I will be as kind to you and as careful of you as may be necessary for your welfare; but I must be loved.”

“And I will love you;” murmured his fair companion, trembling and blushing she knew not for why—“I will love you as fondly as you wish. I will love you kindly and affectionately. I will love you always. I will be at all times every thing you most desire me to be. You shall never find reason to be dissatisfied. I will not allow you to be unhappy: all I do shall be done with the intention of giving you pleasure. My heart is overflowing with your goodness; and, indeed—and, indeed I love you very much.” With these words she caught up the hand she had held in her own; and eagerly, yet timidly, pressed it to her lips!

Oriel Porphyry was so charmed by the simplicity and genuine affection expressed by the action, that he drew the bashful girl to his arms, and pressed her lips to his own. This had scarcely been done, when, on raising his eyes, he encountered the full and piercing gaze of Zabra. He stood before them,—his dark features wearing an expression the most wild and fearful—his breast heaving with passion, and his whole frame trembling with the powerful excitement under which he laboured. Lilya, with an exclamation of surprise, shrunk into the farthest corner of the sofa, and covered her face with her hands. Oriel looked upon him with astonishment, not unmixed with wonder; for the extraordinary beauty of his countenance, shrouded by its clustering black curls, with the intensity of the expression now impressed upon it, looked perfectly sublime.

“Has it come to this?” muttered the youth, in a voice that seemed choked with emotion. “Has it come to this? The last hope I have been allowed to entertain is now utterly crushed. Nothing remains but the conviction of my own misery, and of your baseness.”

“Zabra!” exclaimed Oriel.

“What a reward is this you have given me!” continued the other, in the same hoarse tones. “What a recompense for all I have done! Could you think of no way of showing your appreciation of my devotion for you than by destroying the dream of happiness I have entertained? Have I not been faithful, and attached, and willing, and affectionate—as ready in the hour of danger to defend as desirous in a time of pleasure to amuse? Did I not share with you your anxieties, and rejoice with you in every thing that gave you joy? And yet you have committed this treachery.”

“Zabra!” again exclaimed his patron.

“In what have I failed to do you honour and worship?” still continued his companion, slightly raising his voice as he proceeded. “In what have I been deficient? Where have I offended? Have I not sought all times and opportunities to fulfil your wishes before they could be expressed? Has not my heart been ever anxious to assist in the realisation of your best hopes? Is there any one thing you could have wished me to do that I have not done? If I had been slack in my exertions—if I had been careless in my services—if I had been heedless, thoughtless, or inattentive in my behaviour, there might have been some cause for depriving me of the affections which then I should have been unworthy to possess:—but I have exceeded all previous examples in the exclusiveness of my devotion. I have dared to do more than others could have imagined—I have sought you out to watch over your safety—and have served you with all honour, and care, and kindness. Why—why have you used me thus?”

“Zabra, what madness is this?” exclaimed the young merchant, more surprised than offended.

“And this is your love for Eureka!” continued the youth. “This is the way in which you return an affection, so deep, so earnest, and so true as her’s has been? Have you lost all notion of justice, of virtue, and of that sincerity which most ennobles manhood? Where is your sense of shame? What manner of man are you, who, after you have been loved in all earnestness, in all purity, in all exclusiveness, and with all that self-abandonment which is most conspicuous in the love of woman, can turn round upon the object by whom you have been so truly honoured, and cast her hopes to the wind?”

“Zabra, you are proceeding beyond the limits of endurance; and I shall be obliged to acquaint Eureka with your unreasonable and offensive conduct,” said Oriel.

“I—I am Eureka!” shouted the disguised page, in a voice that made both her companions leap from their seats with looks of the most intense astonishment, as, with flashing eyes, and words that seemed to breathe of fire, she exclaimed,—“It was Eureka who left her father’s house to escape from an alliance into which she would have been forced had she remained.—It was Eureka who forsook family and friends, and the security and comforts of her own land, to share the dangers and watch over the safety of one to whom she was so completely devoted.—It was Eureka who quitted the dress and abandoned the prejudices of womanhood, the more securely to devote her disinterested heart to the service of her lover.—It was Eureka who dared with him the perils of the sea—rescued him from the clutches of the pirate—stopped the blows that were aimed at his life—shed her blood in his defence; and, in all offices of kindness—in all times of danger and difficulty—in all moments of tranquillity and desire of innocent enjoyment, thought only of his security—cared only for his amusement, and was anxious only for the perfect realisation of his happiness. It was Eureka who did these things: and I—I am Eureka!”

Probably she might have continued the same eloquent and forcible language; but the attention of herself and of her lover were attracted towards their companion. Lilya had listened with the most breathless interest to the avowal of the disguised Zabra; her eyes were fixed upon the speaker in one continued stare—wild, ghastly, and unnatural: the colour fled from her lips, the blood rushed from her face; her breast heaved in quick, short, spasms, and something was seen rising and swelling at her throat. An expression of unutterable anguish was impressed upon her beautiful features; she made two or three choking gasps, and tottering forward a few steps, fell at the feet of Eureka.

Oriel hurried to raise her from the ground; gently he lifted her head, and exposed to view a face pale as marble; the delicate mouth, half open, and the fair blue eyes fixed and sightless. As he attempted to take her hand, the head fell back upon his shoulder.—She was dead.

“Eureka!” exclaimed the young merchant, in a voice husky with emotion, as he supported the drooping corpse upon his arm, “you have wronged both her and me. She would never have been regarded by me save as a sister; and it was only with a brother’s fondness that you saw me caress her. I am deeply grateful to you for the devotion with which you have honoured me; but when I look here,”—he continued, gazing on the lifeless form he held, with feelings that almost deprived him of utterance,—“and find a creature so perfectly innocent, so simple, so gentle, and so kind, that has been made its victim, I am obliged to regret that it has been purchased at so fearful a sacrifice.”

He was answered only by hysteric sobs, that in a few minutes were succeeded by violent convulsions: and Dr. Tourniquet entering the cabin at this moment, Oriel hastily explained what had transpired; left her to his care, and rushed upon deck.