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A Tale of the Jews in England.
By
Miss Celia Moss.
(Concluded from issue #10)
II.
It was a dark and stormy evening, and Neela sat in the little chamber
in the castle to which she and her mother had been removed by the baron,
to secure them from fresh attempts on the part of Leslie, watching the
feverish and unquiet slumbers of her dying parent. She was alone, for
not all the commands of the baron could induce any of his lady's
attendants to afford assistance to the unfortunate Jewesses. They
considered his interposition as the effect of witchcraft, and expected
to see Neela and Naomi carried away by the Evil One before the dawn of
day.
As the wind shook the little casement, it awakened the sleeper, and
she feebly murmured her daughter's name, when in a moment the anxious
watcher was by her side. The mother partly raised herself, and with a
trembling hand put back the hair from Neela's white brow, while she
addressed her thus:—
"I would bless thee, my Neela, for my moments are numbered, and the
death-dews are already on my brow. Fain would I linger a little longer
for thy sake in this world of suffering; but the decree of the Highest
hath gone forth, and it may not be. It is sad to see thee thus, my fair
child, alone with thy dying parent;—none to cheer thee in the hour of
affliction,—none to whisper hope amid thy sorrowing. But there is One
who is the Father of the fatherless, who watches over the orphan's fate,
and to Him I consign thee! I had hoped to see the bridal veil upon thine
head, my best beloved,—to have supported thy trembling form beneath the
nuptial canopy; and, in resigning thee to one who hath loved thee well
and long, I could have gone down to the grave without a sigh. But His
will be done! This is a bitter and unlooked-for trial for thee, my
child, and thy lot will be lonely when I am gone;—but there thou wilt
find consolation,"—pointing to the prayer-book which lay on the
table—"pray with me, my child, that though I die far from my kindred and
my people, the last sound that greets my ear may be the praises of the
Lord!" Repressing by a strong effort all outward signs of emotion, Neela
opened the book, and commenced reading, in a faltering voice, the prayer
for the dying.
Naomi's lips moved, but she spake not, and the poor girl read on,
though her eyes were filled with tears, and she could scarcely see the
words. Gradually, however, her anguish mastered her resolution, and the
book fell from her hand. At that moment a flash of lightning illuminated
the little apartment, and its blue light played around the features—of
the dead.
It is an awful thing to gaze upon the glazed eye, the blue lips, and
stiffening limbs; when no tie of consanguinity attaches us to the
departed; but how much more so must it be to the orphan who watches
alone at the midnight hour, and by the lightning's glare, the corpse of
a beloved mother! She whose faith forbade her to look upon the dead of
her kin, was now the only watcher by the corpse of her nearest relative.
Long and wildly Neela wept, but her tears were rather the lava stream
that burns, than the gentle shower that refreshes. Gradually, too, a
sickening feeling of terror crept over her; horrible visions crowded on
her brain, and she who had so loved her mother while living, feared to
look upon her when dead. The very stillness made the blood creep coldly
in her veins, and she would have given worlds to hear the sound of a
human voice. In her despair she again had recourse to prayer.
Neela was calmer when she had concluded, and printing one warm kiss
on the cold face of the dead; she covered it with a veil, and returned
to her seat. She had sat about a quarter of an hour, musing on her
desolate situation, when a slight noise aroused her, and raising her
head with a start, her eye fell on the stern countenance of Leslie
Gower. She would have shrieked, but her tongue clove to the roof of her
mouth, and she was unable to utter a sound.
"Fear not, maiden," said Leslie, as he took her cold hand in his, "I
came not to injure thee;" but his touch aroused all her dormant
faculties, and she uttered a wild cry for help.
"Repent that cry," said Leslie, drawing a dagger from his vest, "and
ere one step can advance to aid thee, this blade shall drink thine
heart'ss blood. Why shouldst thou fear me, trembling fool? My purpose is
to protect thee."
"Does the wolf protect the lamb, or the vulture the dove? I know thee
too well to trust thy faithless promises."
"As thou wilt, fair Neela," and a bitter sneer curled his lip: "thy
trust is in the promise of my high-souled brother, and art secure in his
powerful protection. But know, proud Jewess, the rising of to-morrow's
sun will be the signal of doom to thee. Already the monks are preparing
to drag thee from thine asylum, on the charge of sorcery, and the Baron
of Chesterton dares not resist the power of the Church. I alone can save
thee. Even now a boat waits on the beach. Follow me silently, and ere
the day dawns, it shall convey thee far beyond the reach of danger."
"Whither?" said Neela, faintly.
"Whithersoever thou wilt; and when some urgent affairs which demand
my presence here are adjusted, I will follow thee, and devote my future
life to thine happiness."
"Come hither," said Neela, in a tone of unnatural calmness; "I have
something to show thee ere I answer."
Leslie arose, still retaining his hold of the dagger. Slowly she
removed the covering she had laid on the face of her mother; and as he
bent forward to gaze, a shudder passed through, his iron frame, and he
felt a momentary thrill of horror.
"I had forgotten thy mother," he said, turning to the pale girl
beside him; "but it is better thus; she would but have proved an
incumbrance in thy flight, and the hand of cruelty cannot hurt the dead.
Neela, I will be father, mother, lover, every thing to thee;" and he was
about to press his lip to her pure cheek, when with the strength of
despair she flew to the door; but he followed her with the swiftness of
thought, and drew her back ere she could attain her purpose. "Remember,"
he said, touching the hilt of the dagger, "one cry, and thy fate is
sealed."
"Monster! cannot the hallowed presence of the dead restrain thine
unholy passion? Begone! the vilest of deaths is preferable to throe
abhorred touch!"
"Bravely spoken!" and he laughed a bitter laugh. " But hast thou
considered, gentle Neela, what the death will be of which thou hast
spoken so calmly? Canst thou, whose youth and beauty have been guarded
like a well-prized jewel or delicate flower, bear the rude gaze—the
execrations of an insulting crowd? Are those lovely limbs fitted for the
torture and the flame? Trust me, thou wilt think better of this, and
repent when repentance is too late." But Neela heard him not, for,
exhausted by previous terror and excitement, she had fainted.
"So !" he exclaimed, "fortune favours me. The disappearance of the
girl, and the death of the mother; will confirm the popular belief in
their guilt; and then Eugene may doubt if he will. Yes! I shall yet be
Baron of Chesterton!" Raising Neela from the ground, he wrapped her veil
around her, and bore her swiftly through the secret passages, with which
he was well acquainted, to the sea-shore, where he found the boat which
he had ordered to be in readiness. Laying her gently on the sands, he
approached the vessel to give some necessary directions to the boatmen.
The fresh air, playing upon her face, revived Neela's senses; and by
the gray light of dawn she beheld a large boat filled with men, silently
but swiftly approaching the beach. Her heart beat, and her brain whirled
at the expectation of succour; but she did not stir, for she saw that
neither Gower nor his accomplices perceived it.
Having finished his directions, Leslie Gower approached to raise his
victim; but Neela had watched her moment; and springing up as he came
near to her; she fled towards the strange boat, the crew of which had
now landed. In a moment, with his sword drawn, Gower was at her side.
"On your peril," he said, "I command ye not to interfere. She is a
king's prisoner."
"It is false! it is false!" shrieked Neela: "he has torn me from my
mother's corpse,—from the shelter of my friends, and is forcing me away
against my will."
"Is this true?" said the foremost of the party, turning to Gower. But
at the sound of that voice, Neela sprang to his side, exclaiming, "My
God! my God! thou hast not forsaken the orphan." The stranger was her
betrothed lover, and in an instant she was clasped in his arms.
"Thy blood be upon thine own head!" cried Gower, as he aimed a blow
at the unarmed youth, which, had it taken effect, would have deprived
Neela of her last hope: but the sword was dashed aside by one who had
already perilled life and limb for her sake; and Sir Richard Falkner,
drawn by her shrieks to the spot, once more saved her from her dreaded
foe.
"Shame on thee, thou disgrace to knighthood!" said the old warrior;
"thou, who, on winning thy golden spurs, swore to protect the innocent
and oppressed, art violating, without remorse, that sacred covenant."
Gower did not answer, and the sword fell from his powerless hand, for
his eyes were fixed on an object which palsied his daring spirit: yet
there was nothing fearful in the sight he beheld.
"Can the sea give up its dead? he murmured hoarsely, "or does the
murdered return to earth, as priests have told, to detect and punish
their destroyers! No! no!—it cannot be; my senses deceive me:—yet it is
there—still there!" and the strong man, the scoffer, who had railed at
religion and virtue as chimeras of the heated brain, overcome by the
consciousness of guilt and superstitious terror, fainted. But none
heeded him: Sir Richard Falkner and Neela had recognised the baron's
lost child in the object of his dread.
The sequel is soon told. Leslie Gower had bribed the accomplice
already named, to persuade the nurse, who was much attached to him, to
meet him in a lonely part of the beach; during the baron's absence, with
her young charge.
Gilbert had agreed to murder both nurse and child; but his heart
misgave him in the moment of trial: moved by the woman's eager
entreaties, yet dreading both to lose the bribe and meet the vengeance
of Gower, he chose a medium course, and forcing her and the child into a
boat, cut the moorings and set them adrift on the wide waters without
food. He then returned to his master, and informed him that all was
over. That Providence, however, which watches over the helpless,
suffered them not to perish; and after a day and night of terror, they
were picked up by the vessel which was bearing to England the affianced
husband of Neela.
When the funeral of her mother was over, and the first month of
mourning passed, Neela became the bride of Ezra; and leaving the now
desolate home of her childhood, returned with him to Italy. The baron
and baroness blessed her when they bade her farewell, and even dropped a
tear as they beheld the bounding bark that bore her away from the shores
of England for ever.
Of Leslie Gower, from the moment the baron's heir re-appeared,
nothing more was heard. Whether he returned to the Holy Land, and had
fallen in honourable combat against the infidel, or spent the remainder
of his life in atonement beneath the cowl of the monk, for the sins of
his youth, Eugene could never ascertain. |