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The Buccaneer - A Tale

Page 13

Death! be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;

For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,

Die not, poor Death----

* * * * *

----Why swell'st thou, then?

One short sleep past, we wake eternally';

And Death shall be no more:--Death! thou shalt die.

DR. DONNE

When Sir Robert Cecil returned to his wife's chamber, all within was

silent as the grave. He approached the bed; his daughter rose from the

seat she had occupied by its side, and motioned him to be still,

pointing at the same time to her mother, and intimating that she slept.

"Thank God for that!" he murmured, and drew his hand across his brow,

while his chest heaved as if a heavy weight had been removed from it.

The attendants had left the room to obtain some necessary refreshment

and repose, and father and daughter were alone with the sleeper in the

chamber of death. The brow of Lady Cecil was calm, smooth, and

unclouded, white as alabaster, and rendered still more beautiful by the

few tresses of pale auburn hair that escaped from under the head-tire.

The features were of a noble yet softened character, although painfully

emaciated; and not a shadow of colour tinged her upturned lip. Her

sleep, though occasionally sound, was restless, and the long shadowy

fingers, that lay on the embroidered coverlet, were now and then

stirred, as if by bodily or mental suffering. There was an atmosphere of

silence, not of repose, within the apartment, at once awful and

oppressive; and Sir Robert breathed as if his breathings were but a

continuation of suppressed sobs.

Constance Cecil, never in earlier life, never in after years, gracious

and beautiful as she ever was, appeared half so interesting to her

unhappy father as at that moment. There was at all times about her a

majesty of mind and feeling that lent to her simplest word and action a

dignity and power, which, though universally felt, it would have been

impossible to define. If one could have procured for her a kingdom to

reign over, or have chosen from the galaxy of heaven a region worthy her

command, it must have been that pale and holy star, which, splendid and

alone in the firmament, heralds the approach of day; so unfitted might

she have been deemed to mingle with a world less pure, so completely

placed by nature above all the littleness of ordinary life. Her noble

and majestic form was the casket of a rich and holy treasure, and her

father's conscience had often quailed, when contemplating the severity

of her youthful virtue. Dearly as he loved his wife, he respected his

daughter more, and the bare idea that certain occurrences of former

years might be known to her was as a poisoned dagger in his heart. He

had been a daring, and was still an ambitious man--successful in all

that men aim to succeed in; wealthy, honoured, and powerful, and--what

is frequently more ardently sought for than all--feared; yet would he

rather have sacrificed every advantage he had gained--every desire for

which he had unhesitatingly bartered his own self-esteem--every

distinction he had considered cheaply purchased at the price of

conscience, than have lost the good opinion, the confiding love of his

only child. Even now he looked upon her with mingled feelings of dread

and affection, though her bearing was subdued and her lofty spirit bowed

by sorrow, as she stood before him, the thick folds of her dressing-gown

falling with classic elegance to her feet, her fine hair pushed back

from her forehead and carelessly twisted round her head, and her

countenance deepened into an expression of the most intense anxiety:

while, assured that the invalid slept on, she whispered into his ear

words of consolation, if not of hope.

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