CHAPTER XXXII.
How fair these names, how much unlike they look To all the blurr'd subscriptions in my book! The bridegroom's letters stand in row above, Tapering, yet straight, like pine-trees in his grove; While free and fine the bride's appear below, As light and slender as her jessamines grow.
CRABBE.
ST. JUDE's day came, the term assigned by Lucy herself as the furthestdate of expectation, and, as we have already said, there were neitherletters from nor news of Ravenswood. But there were news of Bucklaw, andof his trusty associate Craigengelt, who arrived early in the morningfor the completion of the proposed espousals, and for signing thenecessary deeds.
When the morning compliment of the bridegroom had been paid, Miss Ashtonwas left for some time to herself; her mother remarking, that the deedsmust be signed before the hour of noon, in order that the marriage mightbe happy. Lucy suffered herself to be attired for the occasion as thetaste of her attendants suggested, and was of course splendidly arrayed.Her dress was composed of white satin and Brussels lace, and herhair arranged with a profusion of jewels, whose lustre made a strangecontrast to the deadly paleness of her complexion, and to the troublewhich dwelt in her unsettled eye.
Her toilette was hardly finished ere Henry appeared, to conduct thepassive bride to the state apartment, where all was prepared for signingthe contract. "Do you know, sister," he said, "I am glad you are tohave Bucklaw after all, instead of Ravenswood, who looked like a Spanishgrandee come to cut our throats and trample our bodies under foot.And I am glad the broad seas are between us this day, for I shall neverforget how frightened I was when I took him for the picture of old SirMalise walked out of the canvas. Tell me true, are you not glad to befairly shot of him?"
"Ask me no questions, dear Henry," said his unfortunate sister; "thereis little more can happen to make me either glad or sorry in thisworld."
The boy's chatter was here interrupted by the arrival of Lady Ashton,somewhat alarmed at her daughter's stay. With one of her sweetestsmiles, she took Lucy's arm under her own.
There were only present, Sir William Ashton and Colonel Douglas Ashton,the last in full regimentals; Bucklaw, in bridegroom trim; Craigengelt,freshly equipt from top to toe by the bounty of his patron, andbedizened with as much lace as might have become the dress of the CopperCaptain; together with the Rev. Mr. Bide-the-Bent; the presence ofa minister being, in strict Presbyterian families, an indispensablerequisite upon all occasions of unusual solemnity.
Wines and refreshments were placed on a table, on which the writingswere displayed, ready for signature.
The business of the day now went forward: Sir William Ashton signedthe contract with legal solemnity and precision his son, with militarynonchalance; and Bucklaw, having subscribed as rapidly as Craigengeltcould manage to turn the leaves, concluded by wiping his pen on thatworthy's new laced cravat. It was now Miss Ashton's turn to sign thewritings, and she was guided by her watchful mother to the table forthat purpose. At her first attempt, she began to write with a dry pen,and when the circumstance was pointed out, seemed unable, after severalattempts, to dip it in the massive silver ink-standish, which stood fullbefore her. Lady Ashton's vigilance hastened to supply the deficiency. Ihave myself seen the fatal deed, and in the distinct characters in whichthe name of Lucy Ashton is traced on each page there is only a veryslight tremulous irregularity, indicative of her state of mind at thetime of the subscription. But the last signature is incomplete, defaced,and blotted; for, while her hand was employed in tracing it, the hastytramp of a horse was heard at the gate, succeeded by a step in theouter gallery, and a voice which, in a commanding tone, bore down theopposition of the menials. The pen dropped from Lucy's fingers, as sheexclaimed with a faint shriek: "He is come--he is come!"