The dance ceased on the approach of the carriage, which was a phenomenon in these sequestered woods, and the peasantry flocked round it with eager curiosity.On learning that it brought a sick stranger, several girls ran across the turf, and returned with wine and baskets of grapes, which they presented to the travellers, each with kind contention pressing for a preference.At length, the carriage stopped at a neat cottage, and his venerable conductor, having assisted St.Aubert to alight, led him and Emily to a small inner room, illuminated only by moon-beams, which the open casement admitted.St.Aubert, rejoicing in rest, seated himself in an arm-chair, and his senses were refreshed by the cool and balmy air, that lightly waved the embowering honeysuckles, and wafted their sweet breath into the apartment.His host, who was called La Voisin, quitted the room, but soon returned with fruits, cream, and all the pastoral luxury his cottage afforded; having set down which, with a smile of unfeigned welcome, he retired behind the chair of his guest.
St.Aubert insisted on his taking a seat at the table, and, when the fruit had allayed the fever of his palate, and he found himself somewhat revived, he began to converse with his host, who communicated several particulars concerning himself and his family, which were interesting, because they were spoken from the heart, and delineated a picture of the sweet courtesies of family kindness.
Emily sat by her father, holding his hand, and, while she listened to the old man, her heart swelled with the affectionate sympathy he described, and her tears fell to the mournful consideration, that death would probably soon deprive her of the dearest blessing she then possessed.The soft moon-light of an autumnal evening, and the distant music, which now sounded a plaintive strain, aided the melancholy of her mind.The old man continued to talk of his family, and St.Aubert remained silent.'I have only one daughter living,'
said La Voisin, 'but she is happily married, and is every thing to me.When I lost my wife,' he added with a sigh, 'I came to live with Agnes, and her family; she has several children, who are all dancing on the green yonder, as merry as grasshoppers--and long may they be so! I hope to die among them, monsieur.I am old now, and cannot expect to live long, but there is some comfort in dying surrounded by one's children.'
'My good friend,' said St.Aubert, while his voice trembled, 'I hope you will long live surrounded by them.'
'Ah, sir! at my age I must not expect that!' replied the old man, and he paused: 'I can scarcely wish it,' he resumed, 'for I trust that whenever I die I shall go to heaven, where my poor wife is gone before me.I can sometimes almost fancy I see her of a still moon-light night, walking among these shades she loved so well.Do you believe, monsieur, that we shall be permitted to revisit the earth, after we have quitted the body?'
Emily could no longer stifle the anguish of her heart; her tears fell fast upon her father's hand, which she yet held.He made an effort to speak, and at length said in a low voice, 'I hope we shall be permitted to look down on those we have left on the earth, but I can only hope it.Futurity is much veiled from our eyes, and faith and hope are our only guides concerning it.We are not enjoined to believe, that disembodied spirits watch over the friends they have loved, but we may innocently hope it.It is a hope which I will never resign,' continued he, while he wiped the tears from his daughter's eyes, 'it will sweeten the bitter moments of death!'
Tears fell slowly on his cheeks; La Voisin wept too, and there was a pause of silence.Then, La Voisin, renewing the subject, said, 'But you believe, sir, that we shall meet in another world the relations we have loved in this; I must believe this.' 'Then do believe it,'
replied St.Aubert, 'severe, indeed, would be the pangs of separation, if we believed it to be eternal.Look up, my dear Emily, we shall meet again!' He lifted his eyes towards heaven, and a gleam of moon-light, which fell upon his countenance, discovered peace and resignation, stealing on the lines of sorrow.
La Voisin felt that he had pursued the subject too far, and he dropped it, saying, 'We are in darkness, I forgot to bring a light.'
'No,' said St.Aubert, 'this is a light I love.Sit down, my good friend.Emily, my love, I find myself better than I have been all day; this air refreshes me.I can enjoy this tranquil hour, and that music, which floats so sweetly at a distance.Let me see you smile.
Who touches that guitar so tastefully? are there two instruments, or is it an echo I hear?'
'It is an echo, monsieur, I fancy.That guitar is often heard at night, when all is still, but nobody knows who touches it, and it is sometimes accompanied by a voice so sweet, and so sad, one would almost think the woods were haunted.' 'They certainly are haunted,'
said St.Aubert with a smile, 'but I believe it is by mortals.' 'Ihave sometimes heard it at midnight, when I could not sleep,'
rejoined La Voisin, not seeming to notice this remark, 'almost under my window, and I never heard any music like it.It has often made me think of my poor wife till I cried.I have sometimes got up to the window to look if I could see anybody, but as soon as I opened the casement all was hushed, and nobody to be seen; and I have listened, and listened till I have been so timorous, that even the trembling of the leaves in the breeze has made me start.They say it often comes to warn people of their death, but I have heard it these many years, and outlived the warning.'
Emily, though she smiled at the mention of this ridiculous superstition, could not, in the present tone of her spirits, wholly resist its contagion.