“Verily!” exclaimed a deep voice; and Ranulph looking round, met the eyes of Peter Bradley fixed full upon him. But it was evidently not the sexton who had spoken.
Small continued the service. He arrived at this verse: “Thou hast set our misdeeds before thee; and our secret sins in the light of thy countenance.”
“Even so!” exclaimed the voice; and as Ranulph raised his eyes in the direction of the sound, he thought he saw a dark figure, muffled in a cloak, disappear behind one of the pillars. He bestowed, however, at the moment, little thought upon this incident. His heart melted within him; and leaning his face upon his hand, he wept aloud.
“Command yourself, I entreat of you, my dear Sir Ranulph,” said Doctor Small, as soon as the service was finished, “and suffer this melancholy ceremonial to be completed.” Saying which, he gently withdrew Ranulph from his support, and the coffin was lowered into the vault.
Ranulph remained for some time in the extremity of sorrow. When he in part recovered, the crowd had dispersed, and few persons were remaining within the church; yet near him stood three apparent loiterers. They advanced towards him. An exclamation of surprise and joy burst from his lips.
“Eleanor!”
“Ranulph!”
“Is it possible? Do I indeed behold you, Eleanor?”
No other word was spoken. They rushed into each other’s arms. Oh! sad—sad is the lover’s parting—no pang so keen; but if life hath a zest more exquisite than others—if felicity hath one drop more racy than the rest in her honeyed cup, it is the happiness enjoyed in such an union as the present. To say that he was as one raised from the depths of misery, by some angel comforter, were a feeble comparison of the transport of Ranulph. To paint the thrilling delight of Eleanor—the trembling tenderness—the fond abandonment which vanquished all her maiden scruples, would be impossible. Reluctantly yielding—fearing, yet complying, her lips were sealed in one long, loving kiss, the sanctifying pledge of their tried affection.
“Eleanor, dear Eleanor,” exclaimed Ranulph, “though I hold you within my arms—though each nerve within my frame assures me of your presence—though I look into those eyes, which seem fraught with greater endearment than ever I have known them wear—though I see and feel, and know all this, so sudden, so unlooked for is the happiness, that I could almost doubt its reality. Say to what blessed circumstance am I indebted for this unlooked-for happiness.”
“We are staying not far hence, with friends, dear Ranulph; and my mother, hearing of Sir Piers Rookwood’s death, and wishing to bury all animosity with him, resolved to be present at the sad ceremony. We were told you could not be here.”
“And would my presence have prevented your attendance, Eleanor?”
“Not that, dear Ranulph; but—”
“But what?”
At this moment the advance of Mrs. Mowbray offered an interruption to their further discourse.
“My son and I appear to be secondary in your regards, Sir Ranulph,” said she, gravely.
“Sir Ranulph!” mentally echoed the young man. “What will she think, when she knows that that title is not mine? I dread to tell her.” He then added aloud, with a melancholy smile, “I crave your pardon, madam; the delight of a meeting so unexpected with your daughter must plead my apology.”
“None is wanting, Sir Ranulph,” said Major Mowbray. “I, who have known what separation from my sister is, can readily excuse your feelings. But you look ill.”
“I have, indeed, experienced much mental anxiety,” said Ranulph, looking at Eleanor; “it is now past, and I would fain hope that a brighter day is dawning.” His heart answered, ’twas but a hope.
“You were unlooked for here to-night, Sir Ranulph,” said Mrs. Mowbray; “by us, at least: we were told you were abroad.”
“You were rightly informed, madam,” replied Ranulph. “I only arrived this evening from Bordeaux.”
“I am glad you are returned. We are at present on a visit with your neighbours the Davenhams, at Braybrook, and trust we shall see you there.”
“I will ride over to-morrow,” replied Ranulph; “there is much on which I would consult you all. I would have ventured to request the favour of your company at Rookwood, had the occasion been other than the present.”