The Buccaneer - A Tale

By holy Mary! Butts, there's knavery.

SHAKSPEARE

Having consigned the Lady Frances Cromwell to her perfumed couch, and

the companionship of Waller's sweet and sonorous strains, we leave her

to determine whether the high and mighty Lady Dorothea Sidney, the

Poet's Saccharissa, or the gentle Lady Sophia Murray, the beauteous

Amoret of his idolatry, were most worthy the affection he so generously

bestowed on both. Waller, the most specious flatterer of flattering

courts--the early worshipper of Charles the First--the pusillanimous

betrayer of his friends--the adulator of Cromwell--the wit and the

jester of the second Charles--the devotional whiner of the bigot

James--had not, however, sufficient power to keep the lady from her

slumbers long. She was soon in the refreshing sleep, known only to the

light-hearted.

Constance Cecil was more wakeful. After Barbara's dismissal from the

presence of Lady Frances, she crept with slow and stealthy space to the

chamber of her dear mistress, and softly turning the bolt, displaced the

curtains of silver damask with so light a touch, that her entrance was

unnoticed. The girl perceived at once that her lady was not asleep. She

had evidently been reading, for the holy volume was still open, and one

hand rested amid its leaves: but even Barbara was astonished when she

saw that her attention was spell-bound to the mysterious locket she held

in the other hand. The excellent servant, with that true honesty of mind

which no education can teach, knowing that her lady had not heard her

enter, and feeling, rather than reasoning upon, the indelicacy of prying

into what she believed was secret, purposely let fall a chalice, which

effectually roused Constance, who, placing the trinket under the pillow,

called upon her attendant for her night drink, and then pointed out a

particular psalm she wished her to read aloud. It was a holy and a

beautiful sight in that quiet chamber: the young and high born maiden,

her head resting on pillows of the finest cambric; her arms crossed

meekly on her bosom, whose gentle breathings moved, without disturbing

the folds of her night-tire; her eyes elevated; her lips sufficiently

apart to show the small, pearly teeth, glittering in whiteness within

their coral nest;--then, as promises of hope and happiness beyond the

control of mortality, found voice from Barbara's mouth, a tear would

steal down her cheek, unbidden and unnoticed, but not unregistered by

that God who knows our griefs, and whose balm is ever for the heavy at

heart.

Barbara sat on a writing stool by the bed-side, supporting the Bible on

her knees, while the beams of a golden lamp, placed on a lofty tripod

near the foot of the bed, fell directly on the book: the light, however,

was not sufficiently powerful to illume the farthermore parts of the

chamber, whose walls were hung with figured tapestry, the gloom of which

contrasted strongly with the bright blue and silver that canopied

Constantia's bed.