The Buccaneer - A Tale

Burrell, who feared that even in the very brief space which now

remained, Sir Robert would betray the weakness of his mind, stepped

forward, and would have taken her hand; but she put him from her, with a

single gesture, saying,-"Not yet, sir, I am still all my father's.--Father, I am ready."

It was pitiable to see the vacant eye which Sir Robert fixed upon her

pale, fine face, and most painful to observe the look of anxious inquiry

with which she regarded him.

"Dear father," she exclaimed at length, sinking on her knees, "dear

father, speak to me."

The gesture and the voice recalled him for a little to himself. He

kissed her cheek affectionately, and, rising with much of the dignity of

former years, pressed her to his bosom.

"Forgive me, child;--my Lady Frances, I crave your pardon--I am

myself again--I was a trifle indisposed, but it is over. Fill me

some wine," he commanded to the attendants, who gathered in the

doorway--"Yes--up--full--more full; I drink--" he continued, with a

gaiety of manner suiting ill with his grey hairs and pallid face--"I

drink to the happiness and prosperity of my daughter and her

bridegroom!" He quaffed to the bottom of the cup, then flung it from

him.

"Now go we to the bridal," he said, leading Constantia forward, while

Sir Willmott conducted Lady Frances, who hardly condescended to touch

the hand he presented to her. As they passed an open court, leading to

the little chapel, Sir Robert stopped abruptly, and addressing his

daughter, said,-"But I have not blessed you yet; you would not like to die without my

blessing."

"Die, my father!" repeated Constance.

"I pray your pardon, child," he replied, in a half muttering, half

speaking voice--"I was thinking of your mother: but now I quite remember

me, this is a bridal," and he hurried her forward to the altar where the

clergyman stood ready to receive them.

"Sir Willmott Burrell," said Constantia to the knight, as he placed

himself at her side, "my father is ill, and I cannot think upon what his

malady may be with any thing like calmness; if what I dread is true, you

will not force me from him."

"Let the ceremony proceed, and, villain as I know you think me, I will

not oppose any plan you may form for him," was Burrell's reply. Lady

Frances stood close beside her friend; and Barbara, in her white robes

and simple beauty, headed the group of servants who crowded round the

steps.