Emmeline, the Orphan of the CastleSmith, Charlotte
General
Emmeline, the Orphan of the Castle
Smith, Charlotte
Gothic fiction; Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- 18th century -- Fiction; Marriage -- Fiction; Single women -- Fiction
Mr. Stafford, at Emmeline's earnest request, set out for the house of
Delamere, who had not that day been at Woodfield because he expected
Fitz-Edward. Mr. Stafford delivered to him a pressing entreaty from
Emmeline that he would forbear to meet Elkerton, or at least delay it
'till she could speak to him; but Delamere shewing Stafford the letter
he had received, desired him to go back and make Emmeline easy as well
as he could, since to comply with her request was entirely out of his
power. To the necessity of his meeting Elkerton, Stafford assented; and
returned home to relate the little success of his embassy, while the
terror and alarm of Emmeline were only encreased by his visit.
Such was her anxiety, that she would have gone herself to Tylehurst, if
Mrs. Stafford had not represented to her that it would be certainly
improper, and probably ineffectual.
She passed a sleepless night, tormenting herself with a thousand
imaginary modes of misery which might arise from the meeting of the next
day. But while she continued to form and reject projects for preventing
it, seven o'clock passed, and the _rencontre_ ended without bloodshed;
the cautious valour of Elkerton having been so loud, that a magistrate
who lived in the town, and who was well known to Lord Montreville, had
heard of it, and, with a party of constables, had followed Elkerton at
some distance. They concealed themselves, by the justice's order, in a
gravel-pit near the place of combat, and there saw the ground already
possessed by Delamere and Fitz-Edward.
The trembling challenger, with a face as pale as if Delamere's pistol
had already done it's worst, followed by Jackman, on whose undaunted
countenance he cast a rueful and imploring look, then rode slowly up,
punctual to the time.
The usual ceremonies passed, Elkerton's blood seemed to be all gone to
his heart, to encourage it to be stout; and his knees, which trembled
most piteously, appeared to resent the desertion. He cast round the
heath a hopeless look--no succour approached! The ground was measured;
each took their post; and his trembling encreased so violently, that
Delamere apprehended very little from a pistol in so unsteady a hand.
But had he apprehended more, he was of a temper to receive it,
unshrinkingly. The moment to fire now arrived; and Elkerton, while
cocking his pistol, saw the _possé_ rise out of the gravel-pit; but he
was too far gone to be sensible of the seasonable relief; therefore,
without knowing what he was about, he fired his pistol before they could
seize his arm, and then stood like a statue, nearly insensible of the
happiness of his deliverance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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