The Buccaneer - A Tale

"It has not taken place," interrupted in her turn Lady Frances, whose

habitual and active kindness had prompted her to seek assistance for

Barbara, so that she encountered the troop under the command of her

step-uncle--"I say it has not taken place--half a ceremony is no

marriage. But have you any with you skilled in surgery? for here has

been a most foul murder: come with me into the chapel, and behold!" Lady

Frances returned, followed by Colonel Jones, Sir Willmott as a prisoner,

and the greater number of the soldiery.

Constantia Cecil, still kneeling, supported Barbara, whose life was

ebbing fast, as the blood trickled from a small wound, where the ball

had entered a little above her right shoulder. Her eyes, gentle and

expressive as ever, were fixed upon her father, who stood speechless and

powerless by her side. The women gathered, weeping, around. The good

clergyman approached to offer spiritual consolation to the departing

girl. Hugh Dalton had heard the story of the fatal act repeated by at

least a dozen persons, who were ignorant that they spoke in the presence

of the poor maiden's parent; but he heeded not their words; he did not

even ask how or by whom the dreadful deed was done. Enough to him was

the certainty that his daughter was dying, dying before him--that she,

to whom his heart had clung through evil report and good report, in

sorrow and in sin, but always with confidence and hope, as the star that

would at length guide him into a haven of peace and joy, which had been

rapidly growing out of repentance; that she, his only, his beloved, his

most excellent, and most unspotted child, would, within an hour, become

as the clay on which he trod--that her mild, cheerful, and patient

spirit, was passing to the God who gave it--unrepiningly passing; for

no groan, no murmur came from her lips--lips that had never been stained

by deceit or falsehood. Still her eyes rested on her parent, and once

she endeavoured to stretch forth her weak arms towards him, but they

fell powerless at her side; while he, still mute and motionless as a

statue, seemed rooted to the earth. The clergyman spoke a few words of

an approaching eternity. It was only then the Buccaneer replied; without

a tear, without a sob; or any outward demonstration of sorrow: though

all who heard him felt that the words came from a man whose sole

sensation was despair.

"No need, sir, to speak so to her. She knows about these things far more

than we do. Hush! for the sake of God, and let me hear her breathing."