THE port of Marseilles was crowded with English vessels, for, after a war, trade suddenly revives. Walsingham, therefore, had his choice of conveyances by sea; but he doubted whether he ought not to propose to Rosalie making the journey by land to Calais. Long accustomed to travel, the method of going from place to place was indifferent to him, and his choice was usually determined by the opportunities offered of seeing some object worth notice that had not before fallen within his observation. As he had passed three times from the south of France to England, and every time by a different route, he had no curiosity to gratify, even if his attention to Rosalie had allowed him, in the present instance, to think of any other object in his way.
When, therefore, he bade adieu to his friend De Montagny, which lowered and depressed his spirits extremely, he walked to the lodgings of Rosalie, who had all day expected him, for De Montagny had taken leave of her the day before, and she imagined him gone. New alarms had possessed her, on the reasonableness of which she wished to have consulted Walsingham, but it was evening before he came, and then with so dejected an air, and a countenance so melancholy, that Rosalie fancied some new disaster, she knew not what, had overtaken them, and was afraid to ask. Walsingham, however, told her, that, believing it to be her wish to reach England as expeditiously as possible, he was come to hear her commands on that subject; the whole purpose of his present visit being to know how and when she would depart.
"Alas! Sir, (replied she, hurt, yet hardly conscious that she was so, at something in his manner which appeared unusual)——Alas! Sir—I know so little of travelling, or of the advantages or disadvantages of different roads, or different conveyances, that I must refer myself entirely to you. I only know, that the method which would be the least troublesome to you, would, on that account, be the most agreeable to me - - - - - -." Her voice faltered. "Yet there is one apprehension (added she) that I have to-day been taught to entertain, which has extremely alarmed me. I am told that the small-pox, of a malignant sort, is at Marseilles—if my child - - - - -."
Walsingham immediately comprehended what she would say. "I intended (said he) to have mentioned to you, what, I find, some person has anticipated; it will undoubtedly be a reason for you to hasten from hence. I have, I believe, often told you, dear Madam, (added he, lowering and softening his voice), that I have no use for the fortune I possess, but that of assisting my friends.....Alone upon this earth, with no very near relations, nor any distant ones who want my assistance, there are no claims on my property, to me a great part of it is useless—you would give it value by using it. After such a declaration you will not suppose that the difference of expence, between a journey by sea or land, ought to be a consideration. There would even be an indelicacy in my naming the subject, had you not once or twice talked of expence. There is then only to consider, whether you prefer going by sea to England, or travelling across France to Calais, or any other ports; consult your own ease and safety, and that of your dear little boy."
Rosalie, still unable to decide, and still more unable to express what she felt of obligation to him, was silent for some moments, and then referred herself again to him. At length, having weighed the fatigue of a very long journey by land, against the possible delays by sea, for there was hardly any danger to be named at such a season of the year, it was agreed that Walsingham should engage their passage in the most commodious ship he could find; and though Rosalie, who dreaded nothing so much as being troublesome to her benefactor, expressed but little of the anxiety she suffered about her child, Walsingham understood her, and, without saying he should do so, he took care to hire a vessel in which there was a surgeon and a stock of medicines. It had lately been engaged to bring over an English nobleman for the recovery of his health, and the accommodations and medical attendant, which had been engaged for him, seemed most fortunately at hand for Rosalie. The price demanded Walsingham gave at once, with a farther sum on condition that the captain should immediately depart, without waiting for any other passengers. Money is so forcible an advocate, that the captain was convinced it was his interest to comply with this request, and every thing was soon ready.
In little more than a week from her landing at Marseilles, Rosalie embarked for England, having written from thence to Naples, and enclose her letter to Montalbert to the English Minister.
During a very prosperous voyage Walsingham behaved to her with the affection of a brother; but as they had now lost the society of the Chevalier de Montagny, who used, with great propriety, to break their too-frequent tête-à-têtes, Walsingham lived more in his own cabin than he had done when they were on board the Maltese vessel, and was, or affected to be, engaged in the study of Arabic, in which language he had purchased some curious manuscripts at Marseilles. When these studies happened to be the subject of his conversation with Rosalie, he said he was making himself acquainted with Arabic, because, having already visited almost every part of Europe, he thought his next voyage would be to Asia. He frequently repeated this before the captain and the doctor, as they called, a surgeon's mate who was on board, and they, as well as the sailors, who heard the same thing from Walsingham's servant, could not but wonder that such a young man, who was happy enough to have so very pretty a woman belong to him, should be of so restless a disposition. That Rosalie was his mistress they none of them at all doubted, notwithstanding his reserved and respectful behaviour towards her; but he was too rich and too generous for them to make such remarks, as they would certainly have indulged themselves in, had their passengers been of inferior fortune.
Though to see England had been the first wish of Rosalie's heart ever since the miserable day that drove her from Sicily, though she knew all her friends she had on earth were to be found there, and though she had persuaded herself she should meet Montalbert there, yet, as she approached it, her anxiety became excessive; and when the man at the mast head cried Land! as they entered the Channel, her heart beat, as if, in a few moments, her destiny was to be decided. Now like clouds, doubtful and indistinct, the white cliffs rose above the horizon; and now they gradually become more visible, till, at length, from the deck were discerned those towering boundaries of the coast; which——
"Conspicuous many a league, the mariner
"Bound homeward, and, in hope already there,
"Greets with three cheers exulting!!!"
COWPER.
Rosalie gazed at them with eyes filled with tears, and silently demanded—"Is Montalbert there?—Ah! do the friends—the few friends that love me, yet exist?"—While Walsingham, though from different motives, seemed to be affected in the same manner, he, alas! knew, that England held only the ashes of her whom he had loved; but though tempted to say——
"Sento l'aura mia anlica; e i dolci colli
"Veggio apparir onde'l bel lume naeque
"Che tenne gli occhi miei, mentr'al ciel piaque
"Bramosi, e lieti; or Ii tien tristi, e molli
"O caduche speranze, or pensier folli!
"Vedove l'erbe, e torbido son l'acque: &c."
PETRARCH.
Yet, amidst this natural and just regret, which he had hitherto been proved to nourish, he was conscious that, if when they went on shore, he was to take leave of Rosalie, he should feel a new deprivation, which would make all his wounds bleed afresh.
This sentiment, however, he ventured not to communicate to her, nor had he ever yet found courage to ask her what were her intentions, or how she meant to dispose of herself after they landed at Falmouth, where he had engaged the ship to put them ashore?—When within an hour's sail, with trembling and hesitation, which he vainly endeavoured to conquer, he at last inquired to what part of England she meant to go?
Rosalie, though she had considered this before, had never steadily thought on what would be her best plan to pursue. Since, however, as it was now necessary to determine on something, she said she would wait wherever she landed, or in the nearest convenient town, till she could receive letters from Mrs. Vyvian, to whom she meant immediately to write, under cover to Mrs. Lessington, the only means by which she could be sure of a letter reaching her. The heart of Rosalie sunk when she recollected the state of health in which she had left her mother, and when her mind ran back to the many months of her absence, she trembled to reflect on what might, in such an interval, have been the consequence of that injured health, and of, perhaps, increasing anxiety. All her hopes were centered in her mother; from her only she could receive protection and comfort—from her only obtain information of Montalbert; till, therefore, she could hear of Mrs. Vyvian, she could herself form no settled plan.
She related as much to Walsingham as appeared necessary to account for her remaining in whatever part of England she landed, till she had answers to the letters she should write immediately on her arrival. He observed to her, that it would then be much better for her to be at an easier distance from London, and proposed that, instead of landing at Falmouth, he should engage the captain to go on to Portsmouth, for which the wind was extremely favourable. Rosalie readily assented; since she should in that country be very near the place which she once considered as her home. One of those, whom she had believed her sister, was an inhabitant of Chichester, another resided not far from thence; and though she felt no inclination to appear before these her relations, while her situation was liable to misinterpretations, yet there was something consoling in the reflection that she should be within reach of some persons she knew, and who could have no reason, when they were informed she was the wife of Mr. Montalbert, to be otherwise than proud of the connection.
The same fears that had disturbed Rosalie at Marseilles, for the health of her infant boy, assailed her when she landed with him at Portsmouth. There was no source for that evening but an inn; this and many other considerations induced her to wish to quit the town as soon as possible; and now she thought with confusion and anguish of mind, which had been less felt while they were both citizens of the world, that she was entirely dependent for subsistence on the friendship of Walsingham, to whom she was already but too much obliged. How could she reconcile this to pride, or to propriety? Yet there was no remedy; for till she could receive answers from Mrs. Vyvian, what resource had she?—The conduct of Mr. Walsingham had been delicate and generous; the more she was unavoidably in his power, the more reserved he became. But though she knew her own innocence, and was assured of his honour, she could not recollect, without apprehension, that she was now in her native country; that she had quitted it without daring to avow her marriage, and had since been lost to all her former connections; that she now must appear in a very equivocal character, and that few would listen to, and fewer still believe, an account of the extraordinary circumstances that had brought her into her present situation. Circumscribed, as was her knowledge of the world, she had seen enough of it to know that a very moderate share of beauty excited the envy of every woman who has less, and that there are crowds of gossipping people, to whom such a story, as her's appeared to be, would afford the highest gratification, and from whom it might excite the most cruel remarks.
To hide herself, therefore, from the eyes of curiosity and malevolence, till she could appear properly acknowledged and protected, ought certainly to be her determination; but whither should she go, and by whom should she be guided?—It was not possible for her to communicate to Walsingham the painful sensations these reflections brought with them; but he saw them in her eyes, in her manner, and he heard them in the tremulous accents of her voice—yet he knew almost as little as she did how to begin a conversation which every moment rendered more necessary. He sat looking at her, as she was writing to Mrs. Vyvian and Mrs. Lessington, considering what he ought to say, when, having finished her letters, Rosalie laid down the pen, and said, in a half-whisper, "And whither shall I tell my friends to direct their answers?"——This, though rather a soliloquy than an address to Walsingham, gave him occasion to say, "You will determine, dear Madam, whither you like to go......You will recollect, I hope, that I have only to obey you, and - - - - - - - -;" he hesitated—Rosalie, speaking faintly, interrupted him.
"If I knew (said she) any village near this place - - - - - - - -."
"I mean not to dictate, (cried Walsingham, recovering himself). If you have no particular reasons for wishing to be near Portsmouth, I think any, indeed almost every, situation equally within reach of London, and of a daily post from thence, would be preferable. I have heard you speak of having once lived in the neighbourhood of Chichester; it is at an easy distance from hence, and - - - - - -."
"Oh! no—(said Rosalie), not Chichester—I cannot go thither.......I do not (continued she) wish to have it known there that I am in England till - - - - - - -."
Walsingham did not give her time to finish her sentence, but said, "Would you then like to go nearer London, or to some retired place on the sea coast, where, at this season, there will be very few people, and where you may meet with accommodations, in regard to lodgings, which country towns do not afford?"
"That would certainly be the most eligible, (replied Rosalie). I have no wish to approach London, (added she sighing), till I know what hope there is of my meeting there, or at least hearing there of, Mr. Montalbert."
"Have you ever visited any of these villages on the coast? (inquired Walsingham);—Is there one you prefer?"
"I was once at Eastbourne, (answered she, and it was at this time of the year. I remember thinking the country around it extremely pleasant, and there was then no company, or only one or two invalids."
"I know the place, (said Walsingham), and I believe you cannot fix better. It is necessary to determine, because you must give your friends your address before the post goes out."
"I will say then, that at the post-office at Eastbourne my letters are to be left.—But—I cannot help feeling uneasy that the wife of Mr. Montalbert should appear; perhaps I am wrong, Sir—but my situation is a very delicate one......I could wish my real name were not known till my family owns me - - - - -" she stopped; but Walsingham saw she meant more than she had courage to utter.——"My dear Madam, (said he), that is a matter on which I cannot even give my opinion; your own good sense must decide upon it. You will determine, (said he, getting up and leaving the room), and when you have done so, I will set out myself to secure your accommodations, as I conclude you will go from hence as early as you can."
Left then to decide for herself, and having very little time to do so, she hastily resolved to drop her own name till she heard from her mother, and requested that the answers she solicited might be enclosed to Mrs. Sheffield, (the first name that occurred to her), to be left at the post-office Eastbourne. Having sealed and sent out her letter, Walsingham returned. He heard what she had done, and then said, that as she might not travel in perfect security, attended only by a servant, he would, with her permission, go on first, bespeak post-horses on the road, and procure her lodgings at the place she had fixed upon—adding, "I will give proper directions to Waters, (his servant), so that you will have no trouble, and, I hope, not much fatigue......You will sleep on the road!"
"If you think it necessary, (answered Rosalie); but I do not recollect the distance, nor the stages, having never travelled along the coast. It will not be necessary, I suppose, to sleep at Chichester?"
Walsingham answered that he thought Brighthelmstone would be preferable, and then said, "I shall see you on Saturday at Eastbourne, I hope in health and safety; and afterwards (continued he, half-suppressing a sigh) I shall—that is, you know, I must take my leave, and once more, unless I can be of any farther use to you, become a dissipated wanderer, seeking for something that may supply the place of happiness."
Then, without staying to hear those thanks which Rosalie endeavoured to utter, he departed, and in about a quarter of an hour Waters came to her with a letter, which he told her his master, who was gone, had left for her. The man then desired to know at what hour the next morning she would be pleased to have the chaise ready, and, having received her orders, went away, leaving her to peruse her letter.