The Buccaneer - A Tale

"I dare say she will come out in the twilight," replied Barbara, who had

sufficient of the sensitiveness of her sex to feel deeply mortified at

Robin's heedlessness of her delicate allusion, adding, "Good day; I

cannot stay any longer with you; so give you good day;" and she added in

a lower tone, "a more gentle humour when next we meet." Woman's pride

impelled her footsteps with extraordinary alacrity; woman's affection,

or curiosity, both of which are oftentimes at war with her reason,

obliged her to look back as she entered the postern, and then she

enjoyed the little triumph of observing that Robin remained on the same

spot gazing after her.

"I don't think I said any thing very unkind to him," she thought while

passing along the gallery. "I have a great mind to go back and ask him

if he wanted to send any message to my lady; I did not give the poor

fellow time to speak--I ought not to serve anyone so. What would good

Mr. Fleetword say, if he knew I spoke so snappishly to any

fellow-christian?--Keep your cold nose away from my hand, Master

Bright-eye; you forget how you behaved to my friend Crisp yesterday."

Just as she arrived at this point of her soliloquy, she stood before a

window, overlooking the part of the garden where she had left Robin.--He

was no longer there! and the fond heart of little Barbara, at once

forgetful of the harshness and waywardness of her early friend, was only

aroused from profound reasoning upon her own unworthiness, by a smart

tap on the shoulder from the fair hand of Lady Frances Cromwell.

"Pretty Barbara in meditation!" she exclaimed;--"but this is no time to

ask upon what or why. What is the meaning of your lady's sudden

resolve?"

"What resolve, madam?"

"Why, a resolve to marry Sir Willmott Burrell within this week."

Barbara was panic-struck: she remained silent for a few minutes, and

then clasping her hands, implored Lady Frances to do--she knew not what.

"Ah! she will die, my lady, she will die! for who could live married to

such a man? He is, indeed, a fearful husband for such a one. My lady, I

know she does not love him--she never did--never could. I have heard her

say in her sleep----"

"What, good maid?" asked Lady Frances eagerly, and with her usual

curiosity. But the habitual integrity of Barbara's mind was awakened:

with tears and sobs she replied,-"What I must not, as a true girl, repeat. I crave your pardon, my lady,

but it would ill become me to speak of what is said in sleep: only,

dear, dear lady, if you love my dear mistress--if her life be dear to

you--prevent, if possible, this marriage."