Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (301 page)

CHAPTER CXXVII

    BLANDISHMENTS

    LADY CECILIA took very good care not to
appear at chapel that evening. She was well aware that common politeness-if no
other motive-would induce the Rev. Reginald Tracy to call on the following day
to inquire after her health.
    Accordingly, on the Monday, she took more than usual
pain with her toilet.
    Sir Rupert Harborough had departed with his
"splendid friend" Chichester for the Continent; and she was
completely her own mistress. She had no one to interfere with her plans or
pursuits, for her lady's maid was entirely devoted to her interests. However
others suffered or waited in respect to pecuniary matters, Sarah - the
aforesaid lady's maid, or
 
cameriste
 
- was always well and regularly paid.
    It was by no means an uninteresting scene to behold the
attention and zeal with which Sarah seconded her mistress's determination to
make the most of her charms upon the present occasion.
    Lady Cecilia was seated near her toilet-table, with a
little gilt-edged oval-shaped mirror in her hands, which reposed in her lap;
and Sarah was engaged in arranging the really beautiful hair of her mistress.
    "What o'clock is it, Sarah?" inquired Lady
Cecilia, casting a complacent glance at herself in the large looking-glass upon
her toilet-table.
    "It must be nearly one, my lady," was the
reply.
    "Then you have no time to lose, Sarah. The
ringlets are quite divine; pray take equal pains with the back-hair. Do you
think that I look better in ringlets or in bands?"
    "In ringlets, my lady."
    "And if I had my hair in bands, and asked you the
same question, you would reply,
 
'in bands
?"
    "Your ladyship cannot think that I am so
insincere," said the
 
camariste
.
    "Do you fancy me in this dress, Sarah?" asked
the lady, heedless of her domestic's observation.
    "I prefer the blue watered-silk," was the
answer.
    "Then why did you not recommend it in the first
instance?"
    "Your ladyship never required my advice."
    "True. Have you finished?"
    "No hairdresser from Bond Street, or the
Burlington Arcade, could have performed his task better, my lady," replied
Sarah.
    "Yes, it is very well-very well indeed," said
Cecilia, surveying herself in the mirror. "I will now descend to the
drawing-room."
    When she reached that apartment, the artful woman
spread on the table a few books on serious subjects; she then amused herself
with a volume of a new novel.
    The clock had just struck two, when a double knock was
heard at the front door.
    Lady Cecilia thrust the novel under the cushion of the
sofa, and took up "Sturm's Reflections."
    The Rev. Mr. Tracy was announced.
    Lady Cecilia rose and received him with a charming
languor of manner.
    "I have called to satisfy myself that your
ladyship has recovered from the indisposition of yesterday," said the
rector.
    "Not altogether," answered Cecilia.
"Indeed, after I returned home, yesterday, I experienced a relapse."
    "I observed that you were not at chapel in the
evening, and I feared that such might be the case."
    It was with difficulty that Lady Cecilia could suppress
a smile of joy and triumph as this ingenuous and unsophisticated announcement
met her ears. He had thought of her! he had noticed her absence!
    "I can assure you that nothing save indisposition
could have induced me to remain away from a place where one gathers so much
matter for useful and serious meditation," answered the lady.
    "And yet the world generally forgets the doctrines
which are enunciated from the pulpit an hour after their delivery,"
observed Reginald.
    "Yes-when they are doled forth by ministers who
have neither talent nor eloquence to make a profound impression." said
Cecilia, artfully conveying a compliment without appearing to mean one at the
moment. "I believe that our churches would be much better frequented were
the clergy less dogmatic, less obscure; and did they address themselves more to
the hearts of their hearers than they do."
    "I believe it in necessary to appeal to the heart,
 
 

and not be satisfied with merely reaching the ears," said the
rector, modestly.
    "And wherever the pastor possesses the rare talent
of moving the feelings,-of exciting the mind-to salutary reflection, as well as
merely expounding points of doctrine,-thither will the multitude flock high and
low, rich and poor. Oh!" exclaimed Cecilia, as if carried away by the
enthusiasm of the subject, "how grand-how noble a situation does that man
occupy, who, by the magic of his voice and the power of his mind, can collect
the thousands around his pulpit! I can understand how an impression may be
easily made upon the half-educated or totally ignorant classes of society: but
to cast a spell upon the intelligent, the well informed, and the erudite,-to
congregate the aristocracy of the realm to listen to the words that flow from
his mouth,-oh! great, indeed, must be the influence of such a man!"
    "You consider, then, Lady Cecilia, that. the upper
classes need powerful inducements to attend to the truths of religion?"
said Reginald, irresistibly charmed by the witching eloquence that had marked
the language of the beautiful woman in whose society he found himself.
    "I consider-but, if I tell you my thoughts,"
said Cecilia, suddenly checking herself, "I shall unavoidably pay a high
compliment to you; and that neither-"
    "Let me hear your ladyship's sentiments in any
case," said the clergyman, fearful of losing those honied words which
produced upon him an impression such as he had never experienced in his life
before.
    "I believe," continued Cecilia, "that
the upper classes in this country are very irreligious. I do not say that they
are infidels: no-they all cherish a profound conviction of the truths of the
gospel. But their mode of life-their indolent and luxurious habits, militate against
a due regard to religious ceremonials. How is it, then, that they are aroused
from their apathy? They hear of some great preacher, and curiosity in the first
instance prompts them to visit the place of his ministry. They go-almost as
they would repair to see a new play. But when they listen to his words-when
they drink, in spite of themselves, large draughts of the fervour which
animates him-when he appeals to their hearts, then they begin to perceive that
there is something more in religion than an observance of a cold ceremonial;
and they go home 'to reflect!"
    "You believe that to be the case?" said the
rector, delighted at this description of an influence and an effect which he
could not do otherwise than know to be associated with his own ministry.
    "I feel convinced that such is the fact,"
answered Lady Cecilia; then, lowering her tone in a mysterious manner, and
leaning towards him, she added, "Many of my friends have confessed that
such has been the case in respect to their attendance at your chapel-and such
was the case with myself!"
    "With you, Lady Cecilia?" exclaimed the
clergyman, vainly endeavouring to conceal the triumph which he experienced at
this announcement.
    "Yes, with me," continued the artful woman.
"For, to be candid with you, Mr. Tracy, I need consolation of some
kind-and the solace of religion is the most natural and the most effective. My
domestic life," she proceeded, in a deeply pathetic tone, "is far
from a happy one. Sir Rupert thinks more of his own pleasures than of his
wife;-he does more than neglect me-he abandons me for weeks and weeks
together."
    She put her handkerchief to her eyes.
    Mr. Tracy drew his chair closer to the sofa on which
she was seated: it was only a mechanical movement on his part-the movement of
one who draws nearer as the conversation becomes more confidential.
    "But why should I intrude my sorrows upon
you?" suddenly exclaimed Cecilia. "And yet if it be not to the
minister of religion to whom we poor creatures must unburden our woes, where
else can we seek for consolation? from what other source can we hope to receive
lessons of resignation and patience?"
    "True," said the rector. "And that has
often appeared to me the best and redeeming feature in the Roman Catholic
world, where the individual places reliance upon a priest, and looks to him for
spiritual support and aid."
    "Ah, would that our creed permitted us the same
privilege!" said Lady Cecilia, with great apparent enthusiasm.
    "I know of no rule nor law which forbids the exercise
of such a privilege," said Reginald. "unless, indeed, usage and
custom be predominant, and will admit of no exceptions."
    "For my part, I despise such customs and usages,
when they tend to the exclusion of those delightful outpourings of confidence
which the individual pants to breathe into the ears of the pastor in whom
implicit faith can be placed. In how many cases could the good clergyman advise
his parishioners, to the maintenance of their domestic comfort? how many
heart-burnings in families would not such a minister be enabled to soothe? Oh!
sir, I feel that your eloquence could teach me how to bear, unrepiningly, and
even cheerfully, all the sorrows of my own domestic hearth!"
    "Then look upon me as a friend, my dear Lady
Cecilia," said the clergyman, drawing his chair a little closer still:
"look upon me as a friend; and happy indeed shall I be if my humble agency
or advice can contribute to smooth the path of life for even only one
individual!"
    "Mr. Tracy, I accept your proferred friendship-I
accept it as sincerely as it is offered," exclaimed Lady Cecilia; and she
extended her hand towards him.
    He took it. It was soft and warm, and gently pressed
his. He returned the pressure:-was it not the token, the pledge of friendship?
He thought so-and he meant no harm.
    But again did the contact of that soft and warm hand
awake within his breast a flame till then unknown; and his cheeks flushed, and
his eyes met those of the fair-the fascinating creature, who craved his
friendship!
    "Henceforth," said Cecilia, who now saw her
intrigue was progressing towards a complete triumph-even more rapidly than she
had ever anticipated-"henceforth you will have no votary more constant in
attendance than I; but, on your part you must occasionally spare from your
valuable time a single half hour wherein to impart to me the consolations I so
much require."
    "Be not afraid, Lady Cecilia," said the
rector, who now felt himself attracted towards that woman by a spell of
irresistible influence: "I shall not forget that you have ingenuously and
frankly sought my spiritual aid; and I should be false to the holy cause in
which I have embarked, were I to withhold it."
    "I thank you-deeply, sincerely thank you,"
exclaimed Cecilia. "But judge for yourself whether I do not seek solace,
in my domestic afflictions, from the proper source! This is the book which I
was reading when you called."
    Cecilia took up "Sturm's Reflections," and
opened the book at random.
    "There," she said; "it was this page which
I was perusing."
    She held the book in her hands as she reclined, rather
than sate, upon the sofa; and the clergyman was compelled to lean over her to
obtain a glimpse of the page to which she pointed.
    His hair touched hers: she did not move her head. Their
faces were close to each other. But not an impure thought entered his soul:
still he was again excited by that thrilling sensation which came over him
whenever he touched her.
    She affected not to perceive that their hair
commingled, but pointed to the page, and expatiated upon its contents.
    In a moment of abstraction. for which he could not
account, and against the influence of which he was not proof, Reginald Tracy's
eyes wandered from the book to the form which reclined, beneath his glance, as
it were, upon the sofa. That glance swept the well-proportioned undulations of
the slight but charming figure which was voluptuously stretched upon the
cushions.
    Suddenly Cecilia left off speaking, and turned her eyes
upward to his countenance. Their glances met, and Reginald did not immediately
avert his head. There was something in the depths of those blue orbs which
fascinated him.
    Still he suspected not his extreme danger; and when he
rose to depart, it was simply because he felt like a man flushed with wine, and
who requires air.
    He took his leave; and Cecilia reminded him that she
should expect to see him soon again.
    Can there be a doubt as to his answer?
    When he regarded his watch, on reaching the street, he
was astounded to perceive that two hours had slipped away since he entered the
house.
    And a deep flush suddenly overspread his countenance as
he beheld the viper like eyes of a hideous old hag, who was standing near the
steps of the front-door, fixed upon him with a leer which for an instant struck
a chill to his heart by its ominous and yet dim significance.

CHAPTER CXXVIII
    
    TEMPTATION.

    "He will come again on
Wednesday," said Lady Cecilia to herself, as she heard the front door
close behind the Rev. Reginald Tracy.
    This wily woman was well-acquainted with the human
heart: she had discovered the weak side of the rector of Saint David's: she
assailed him by means of his vulnerable point; she directed her way to his
heart through the avenue of his vanity.
    Yes-Reginald Tracy was vain,-as vain as a man who was
admired and sought after by all classes, was likely to be rendered,-as vain as
a spoiled child of the public could be.
    His life had, moreover, been so pure, so chaste, so
ascetic, that the fierce passions which agitate other men were unknown to him;
and, as all mortals must be characterised by some failing, his was a habit of
self-admiration!
    Venial and insignificant was this foible, so long as no
advantage was taken of it by designing or worldly-minded persons; but even our
lightest defects, as well as our most "pleasant vices," may be made
the means of our ruin.
    Vanity is a noxious weed which, when nurtured by the
dews of flattery, spreads its poisonous roots throughout the fertile soil of
the heart; and each root springs up into a plant more venomous, more rank, more
baleful than its predecessor.
    The life of Reginald Tracy had been singularly pure. He
had even passed through the ordeal of a college career without affixing the least
stain on the chastity of his soul. Yet with all his austerity of virtue, he was
characterised by no austerity of manner: he mixed freely in society, and
hesitated not to frequent the ball-room-although he did not dance. He could be
a pleasant companion: at the same time he never uttered a word upon which he
had to retrospect with regret. When amongst men, no obscene jest nor ribald
allusion was vented in his presence; and yet he was never voted "a
bore." In a word, he was one of those men who possess the rare talent of
maintaining a character for every virtue, and of being held up as a pattern and
an example, without creating a single enemy-without even being compelled to
encounter the irony of the libertine, and without producing a feeling of
restraint or embarrassment in the society which he frequented.
    Such was Reginald Tracy; and it was this man,-who at
the age of thirty-six could look back with complacency upon a spotless life,-a
life unsullied by a single fault,-an existence devoid of the slightest
dereliction from moral propriety,-it was this good, this holy, this saint-like
man whom the daring Cecilia undertook to subdue.
    Reginald, Reginald! the day of thy temptation has now
come: thou standest upon a pinnacle of the temple-the tempter is by thy
side;-take good heed of thyself, Reginald Tracy!
    "He will come again on Wednesday," had said
Lady Cecilia.
    The prediction was fulfilled!
    The morning had been so inclement that no one would
have stirred abroad unless actuated by important motives. The rain had fallen
in torrents,- beating violently against the windows, and inundating the
streets. It had, however, ceased at noon; but the sky remained covered with
black clouds; and at three o'clock on that gloomy winter-day it was dark and sombre
as if night were at hand.
    But in spite of that inauspicious weather, the Rev.
Reginald Tracy knocked at Lady Cecilia Harborough's door at the hour which we
have just mentioned.
    The designing creature received the clergyman with a
smile, exclaiming at the same time, "It is indeed kind of you to visit me
on such a day as this. I have been so happy-so resigned-so possessed with the
most complete mental tranquillity since you manifested sympathy and interest in
my behalf, that your presence appears to be that of a good angel!"
    "It is our duty to sustain those who droop, and
console those who suffer," answered the rector.
    "Delightful task!" ejaculated Cecilia.
"What a pure and holy satisfaction must you enjoy, when you reflect upon
the amount of comfort which your lessons impart to the world-wearied and
sinking spirit. Believe me, many an one has entered the gates of your chapel
with a weight upon his soul almost too heavy for him to bear, and has issued
forth carrying his burden of care lightly, if not cheerfully, along!"
    "Do you really imagine that my humble agency can
produce such good results in the cause of heaven?" asked Reginald, fixing
a glance of mingled tenderness and satisfaction upon the charming countenance
of Cecilia.
    "I do-I do," she answered, with apparent
enthusiasm; "I can judge by the effect which your admirable discourse of
last Sunday morning produced upon myself. For-let me not deceive you," she
continued, hanging down her head, and speaking in a tremulous and tender
voice,- "let me not deceive you-It was not the heat of the chapel which
overcame me-it was your eloquence! I dared not confess this to you at first;
but now-now that I can look upon you as a friend-I need have no secret from
you."
    She took his hand as she uttered these words, and
pressed it in a manner which he conceived to be indicative of grateful fervour;
and without a thought of evil-but with an indefinable sensation of pleasure to
which until lately he had been all his life a stranger-he returned that
pressure.
    Lady Cecilia did not withdraw her hand, but allowed it
to linger in his; and he retained it under the influence of that sensation
which caused his veins to flow with liquid fire.
    He was sitting on the sofa by her side, and his eyes wandered
from her countenance over the outlines of her form.
    "Oh! how can the man who accompanied you to the
altar, and there swore to love and cherish you," he exclaimed, in an
ebullition of impassioned feelings such as he had never known before,-"how
can that man find it in his heart to neglect-to abandon you,-you who are
evidently all gentleness, amiability, and candour!"
    "He has no heart-no soul for any one save
himself," answered Cecilia. "And now tell me-relieve my mind from a
most painful suspense upon one point! Am I criminal in the eyes of heaven,
because I have ceased to love one whom I vowed to love, but whose conduct has
quenched all the election that I once experienced for him?"
    "You must not harden your heart against him,"
said Reginald; "but by your resignation, your uncomplaining patience, your
meekness, and your constant devotion to his interests, you must seek to bring
him back to the paths of duty and love."
    "I might as well essay to teach the hyena
gratitude" answered Cecilia.
    "You speak too bitterly," rejoined the rector
of
 
Saint David's; and yet he was not altogether displeased at the
aversion which Lady Cecilia's language manifested towards her husband.
    "Alas! we have no power over volition," said
she; "and that doctrine is a severe one which enjoins us to kiss the hand
that strikes us."
    "True," observed Reginald. "I know not
how it is-but I feel that I am at this moment unaccountably deficient in
argument to meet your objections; and yet-"
    He paused, for he felt embarrassed; but he knew not
why.
    "Oh! you can appreciate the difficulty of
enjoining a love towards one who merits hatred," exclaimed Cecilia, now
skilfully availing herself of the crisis to which she had so artfully conducted
the conversation. "You see that you are deficient in reasoning to enforce
the alleged necessity of maintaining, cherishing, and nourishing respect and
veneration for a husband who has forfeited all claims to such feelings on the
part of his injured wife. At all events, do not tell me that I am criminal in
ceasing to love one who oppresses me;-do not say that I offend heaven by
ceasing to kiss the hand that rudely repulses all my overtures of
affection;-oh! tell me not that-or you will make me very, very miserable
indeed!"
    Lady Cecilia's bosom was convulsed with sobs as she
uttered these words in a rapid and impassioned manner; and as she ceased
speaking her head fell upon Reginald's shoulder.
    "Compose yourself-compose yourself, Lady
Cecilia," exclaimed the clergyman, alarmed by this ebullition of grief,
the sincerity of which he could not for one moment suspect. "Do not give
way to sorrow-remember the lessons of resignation and patience which you have
heard from my lips-remember-"
    But the lady sobbed as if her heart would break-her
head reclined upon his shoulder-her forehead touched his face-her hand was
still clasped in his.
    "Oh Reginald!-Reginald!" she murmured,
"I cannot love my husband more-no-it is impossible! I love another!"
    "You love another!" ejaculated the rector,
his whole frame trembling with an ineffable feeling of mingled joy and
suspense.
    "Yes-and now reproach, revile me-leave me-spurn
me-treat me with contempt!" continued Cecilia: "do all this if you
will; but never, never can you prevent me from idolizing- adoring you!"
    "Cecilia!" cried Reginald Tracy, starting
from his seat; "you know not what you are saying!"
    "Alas! I know but too well the feelings which my
words express," returned the lady, clasping her hands together, and sobbing
violently. "Hear me for a few minutes, and then leave me to the misery of
my fate-a hopeless love, and a breaking heart!"
    "Speak, then, and unburden your mind to me without
reserve," said Reginald, resuming his seat upon the sofa, and inviting a confidence
the thought of which produced in his mind emotions of bliss and burning joy,
the power of which was irresistible.
    "Yes, I will speak, even though I render myself
contemptible in your sight," continued Cecilia, wiping her eyes and
affecting to resume that calmness which she had never lost more than the
impassioned actress on the stage, when enacting some melodramatic part.
"For months and months past I have cherished for you a feeling, the true
nature of which has only revealed itself to me within the last few days. In the
first instance, I admired your character and your talents: I respected you; and
respect and admiration soon ripened into another feeling. You do not know the
heart of woman; but it is ever moved by a contemplation of the sublime
characteristics of remarkable men-like you. I met you in society, and I almost
worshipped the ground on which you trod. I listened to your conversation: not a
word was lost to me! During long and sleepless nights your image was ever
present to my mind. You became an idol that I adored. At length you yourself,
one evening, innocently and unconsciously, fanned the flame that was engendered
in my heart: you told me that I looked well. That passing compliment rendered
me your devoted slave. I thought that no human happiness could be greater than
that of pleasing you. I resolved to attend your chapel from that period. I
obtained the pew that was nearest to the pulpit; and when you preached I was
electrified. Oh! you saw how I was overcome! Your attention to me on that
occasion threw additional chains around me. Then you called on me the day
before yesterday, and you spoke so kindly that I was every moment on the point
of falling at your feet, and exclaiming,-'Forgive me, but I now know that I
love you!' You proffered me your friendship: how joyously I accepted the sacred
gift! And that friendship-oh! let me not forfeit it now- for the love which my
heart cherishes for you shall be as pure and taintless as that friendship with
which you have blessed me!"
    Reginald had listened to this strange confession with
the most profound attention;-yes, and with the deepest interest.
    A young and beautiful woman had avowed her love for
him-she sate near him;-his hand still thrilled with the pressure of hers-his
cheek was still warm and flushed with the contact of her white and polished
forehead;-the room was involved in obscurity and silence.
    She had insinuated herself, in an incredibly short
space of time, into his heart, by flattering his vanity and exciting those desires
which had hitherto slumbered so profoundly in his breast, but which were now
ready to burst for with the violence of the long pent-up volcano.
    He trembled-he hesitated. At one moment he was inclined
to rush from the house, as if from the presence of the tempter; and then he
remembered that the love which she had avowed was as pure as his friendship!
    Nevertheless, the struggle in his mind was terrific.
    Cecilia understood it all.
    "You hate me-you despise me," she suddenly
exclaimed, covering her face with her hands. "Oh! do not crush me with
your contempt-do not abandon me to the conviction of your abhorrence!
Reginald-take pity upon me: forgive me for loving you-forgive me-on my knees I
implore you!"
    She threw herself before him: she took his hand and
pressed it to her lips.
    She covered it with kisses.
    "Cecilia," murmured the rector, making a
faint effort to withdraw his hand.
    "No-no, you shall not leave me thus," she
exclaimed, with apparent wildness: " I should die if you went away,
without telling me that you forgive me! No, you must not leave me thus!"
    "Rise, Cecilia-rise-in the name of heaven,
rise!" exclaimed Reginald, alarmed lest they should be discovered in that
equivocal position: "rise, and I will forgive you. I will do all that you
desire-I will not leave you until you are composed."
    And you will return and see me again? you will
 
not withdraw your
friendship?" demanded Cecilia, in a soft and melting tone.
    "No-never, never!" cried Reginald, enthusiastically,
as if he suddenly abandoned himself to the torrent of passion which now swept
through his soul.
    "Oh! thank you-thank you for that assurance!"
exclaimed Cecilia; and, as if yielding to an unconquerable burst of feeling,
she threw herself into his arms: "you shall be as a brother to me; and our
friendship, our love, shall be eternal!"
    Her rich red mouth was pressed upon the rector's lips;
her arms were wound around him; and for a moment he yielded to the intoxicating
delight of that pleasure so new to him.
    But ere he was entirely culpable, his guardian genius
struck his soul with a sudden remorse; and, disengaging himself from the
syren's arms, he imprinted one long-burning-delicious kiss upon her lips; then,
murmuring, "To-morrow, to-morrow, dearest Cecilia, I will see thee
again," rushed from the room.
    "He is mine!" exclaimed the lady, as the door
closed behind him; "irrevocably mine!"