Redgauntlet: A Tale of the Eighteenth Century by Walter Scott (classic novels .TXT) 📕

my own life is worth,’ said Alan; ‘and I do not value it in comparison to the business which requires my instant attention.’

Receiving still no satisfactory answer from Mr. Ambrose, Fairford thought it best to state his resolution to the ladies themselves, in the most measured, respectful, and grateful terms; but still such as expressed a firm determination to depart on the morrow, or next day at farthest. After some attempts to induce him to stay, on the alleged score of health, which were so expressed that he was convinced they were only used to delay his departure, Fairford plainly told them that he was entrusted with dispatches of consequence to the gentleman known by the name of Herries, Redgauntlet, and the Laird of the Lochs; and that it was matter of life and death to deliver them early.

‘I dare say, Sister Angelica,’ said the elder Miss Arthuret, that the gentleman is honest; and if he is really a relation of Father Fairford, we can run no risk.’

‘Jesu Maria!’ exclaimed the younger. ‘Oh, fie, Sister Seraphina! Fie, fie!—‘VADE RETRO—get thee behind me!’

‘Well, well; but, sister—Sister Angelica—let me speak with you in the gallery.’

So out the ladies rustled in their silks and tissues, and it was a good half-hour ere they rustled in again, with importance and awe on their countenances.

‘To tell you the truth, Mr. Fairford, the cause of our desire to delay you is—there is a religious gentleman in this house at present’—

‘A most excellent person indeed’—said the sister Angelica.

‘An anointed of his Master!’ echoed Seraphina,—‘and we should be glad that, for conscience’ sake, you would hold some discourse with him before your departure.’

‘Oho!’ thought Fairford, ‘the murder is out—here is a design of conversion! I must not affront the good ladies, but I shall soon send off the priest, I think.’ He then answered aloud, ‘that he should be happy to converse with any friend of theirs—that in religious matters he had the greatest respect for every modification of Christianity, though, he must say, his belief was made up to that in which he had been educated; nevertheless, if his seeing the religious person they recommended could in the least show his respect’—

‘It is not quite that,’ said Sister Seraphina, ‘although I am sure the day is too short to hear him—Father Buonaventure, I mean—speak upon the concerns of our souls; but’—

‘Come, come, Sister Seraphina,’ said the younger, ‘it is needless to talk so much about it. His—his Eminence—I mean Father Buonaventure—will himself explain what he wants this gentleman to know.’

‘His Eminence!’ said Fairford, surprised—‘is this gentleman so high in the Catholic Church? The title is given only to Cardinals, I think.’

‘He is not a Cardinal as yet,’ answered Seraphina; ‘but I assure you, Mr. Fairford, he is as high in rank as he is eminently endowed with good gifts, and’—

‘Come away,’ said Sister Angelica. ‘Holy Virgin, how you do talk! What has Mr. Fairford to do with Father Buonaventure’s rank? Only, sir, you will remember that the Father has been always accustomed to be treated with the most profound deference; indeed’—

‘Come away, sister,’ said Sister Seraphina, in her turn; ‘who talks now, I pray you? Mr. Fairford will know how to comport himself.’

‘And we had best both leave the room,’ said the younger lady, ‘for here his Eminence comes.’

She lowered her voice to a whisper as she pronounced the last words; and as Fairford was about to reply, by assuring her that any friend of hers should be treated by him with all the ceremony he could expect, she imposed silence on him, by holding up her finger.

A solemn and stately step was now heard in the gallery; it might have proclaimed the approach not merely of a bishop or cardinal, but of the Sovereign Pontiff himself. Nor could the sound have been more respectfully listened to by the two ladies, had it announced that the Head of the Church was approaching in person. They drew themselves, like sentinels on duty, one on each side of the door by which the long gallery communicated with Fairford’s apartment, and stood there immovable, and with countenances expressive of the deepest reverence.

The approach of Father Buonaventure was so slow, that Fairford had time to notice all this, and to marvel in his mind what wily and ambitious priest could have contrived to subject his worthy but simple-minded hostesses to such superstitious trammels. Father Buonaventure’s entrance and appearance in some degree accounted for the whole.

He was a man of middle life, about forty or upwards; but either care, or fatigue, or indulgence, had brought on the appearance of premature old age, and given to his fine features a cast of seriousness or even sadness. A noble countenance, however, still remained; and though his complexion was altered, and wrinkles stamped upon his brow in many a melancholy fold, still the lofty forehead, the full and well-opened eye, and the well-formed nose, showed how handsome in better days he must have been. He was tall, but lost the advantage of his height by stooping; and the cane which he wore always in his hand, and occasionally used, as well as his slow though majestic gait, seemed to intimate that his form and limbs felt already some touch of infirmity. The colour of his hair could not be discovered, as, according to the fashion, he wore a periwig. He was handsomely, though gravely dressed in a secular habit, and had a cockade in his hat; circumstances which did not surprise Fairford, who knew that a military disguise was very often assumed by the seminary priests, whose visits to England, or residence there, subjected them to legal penalties.

As this stately person entered the apartment, the two ladies facing inward, like soldiers on their post when about to salute a superior officer, dropped on either hand of the father a curtsy so profound that the hoop petticoats which performed the feat seemed to sink down to the very floor, nay, through it, as if a trap-door had opened for the descent of the dames who performed this act of reverence.

The father seemed accustomed to such homage, profound as it was; he turned his person a little way first towards one sister, and then towards the other, while, with a gracious inclination of his person, which certainly did not amount to a bow, he acknowledged their curtsy. But he passed forward without addressing them, and seemed by doing so to intimate that their presence in the apartment was unnecessary.

They accordingly glided out of the room, retreating backwards, with hands clasped and eyes cast upwards, as if imploring blessings on the religious man whom they venerated so highly. The door of the apartment was shut after them, but not before Fairford had perceived that there were one or two men in the gallery, and that, contrary to what he had before observed, the door, though shut, was not locked on the outside.

‘Can the good souls apprehend danger from me to this god of their idolatry?’ thought Fairford. But he had no time to make further observations, for the stranger had already reached the middle of his apartment.

Fairford rose to receive him respectfully, but as he fixed his eyes on the visitor, he thought that the father avoided his looks.