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so, my dear son — you will not break* a mother’s heart in the very first hour in which she has embraced her child! — Nay, do not answer, but hear me. You must wed Minna — I have bound around her neck a fatal amulet, on which the happiness of both depends. The labours of my life have for years had this direction. Thus it must be, and not otherwise — Minna must be the bride of my son!”
“But is not Brenda equally near, equally dear to you?” replied Mordaunt.
“As near in blood,” said Norna, “but not so dear, no not half so dear, in affection. Minna’s mild, yet high and contemplative spirit, renders her a companion meet for one, whose ways, like mine, are beyond the ordinary paths of this world. Brenda is a thing of common and ordinary life, an idle laugher and scoffer, who would level art with ignorance, and reduce power to weakness, by disbelieving and turning into ridicule whatever is beyond the grasp of her own shallow intellect.”
“She is, indeed,” answered Mordaunt, “ neither superstitious: nor enthusiastic, and I love her the better for it. Remember also, my mother, that she returns my affection, and that Minna if she loves any one, loves the stranger Cleveland.”
“She does not — she dares not,” answered Norna, “nor dares he pursue her farther. I told him, when first he came to Burgh-Westra, that I destined her for you.”
“And to that rash annunciation,” said Mordaunt, “I owe this man’s persevering enmity — my wound, and wellnigh the loss of my life. See, my mother, to what point your intrigues have already conducted us, and, in Heaven’s name, prosecute them no farther!”
It seemed as if this reproach struck Norna with the force, at once, and vivacity of lightning; for she struck her forehead with her hand, and seemed about to drop from her seat Mordaunt, greatly shocked, hastened to catch her in his arms, and, though scarce knowing what to say, attempted to utter some incoherent expressions.
“Spare me, Heaven, spare me!” were the first words which she muttered; “do not let my crime be avenged by his means! — Yes, young man,” she said, after a pause, “you have dared to tell what I dared not tell myself. You have pressed that upon me, which, if it be truth, I cannot believe, and yet continue to live!”
Mordaunt in vain endeavoured to interrupt her with protestations of his ignorance how he had offended or grieved her, and of his extreme regret that he had unintentionally done either. She proceeded, while her voice trembled wildlv with vehemence.
“Yes! you have touched on that dark suspicion which poisons the consciousness of my power, — the sole boon which was given me in exchange for innocence and for peace of mind! Your voice joins that of the demon which, even while the elements confess me their mistress, whispers to me ‘Norna, this is but delusion — your power rests but in the idle belief of the ignorant, supported by a thousand petty artifices of your own.’ — This is what Brenda says — this is what you would say; and false, scandalously false, as it is, there are rebellious thoughts in this wild brain of mine” (touching her forehead with her finger as she spoke), “that, like an insurrection in an invaded country, arise to take part against their distressed sovereign. — Spare me, my son!” she continued, m a voice of supplication, “spare me’. — the sovereignty of which your words would deprive me, is no enviable exaltation. Few would covet to rule over gibbering ghosts, and howling winds, and raging currents. My throne is a cloud, my sceptre a meteor, my realm is only peopled with fantasies; but I must either cease to be, or continue to be the mightiest as well as the most miserable of beings! “ 1
“Do not speak thus mournfully, my dear and unhappy benefactress,” said Mordaunt, much affected; “ I will think of your power whatever you would have me believe. But, for your own sake, view the matter otherwise. Turn your thoughts from such agitating and mystical studies — from such wild subjects of contemplation, into another and a better channel. Life will again have charms, and religion will have comforts, for you.”
She listened to him with some composure, as if she weighed his counsel, and desired to be guided by it; but, as he ended, she shook her head and exclaimed — ..
“It cannot be. I must remain the dreaded — the mystical — the Reimkennar — the controller of the elements, or I must be no more! I have no alternative, no middle station. My post must be high on yon lofty headland, where never stood human foot save mine-or I mufct sleep at the bottom of the unfathomable ocean, its white billows booming over my senseless corpse. The parricide shall never also be denounced as the impostor!”
“The parricide!” echoed Mordaunt, stepping back in.
“Yes my son!” answered Norna, with a stem composure even more frightful than her former impetuosity, “within these fatal walls my father met his death by my means. In yonde: chamber was he found a livid and lifeless corpse. Beware of tilial disobedience, for such are its fruits!”
1 Note XIV. Character of Norna.
So saying, she arose and left the apartment, where Mordaunt remained alone to meditate at leisure upon the extraordinary communication which he had received. He himself had been taught by his father a disbelief in the ordinary superstitions of Zetland; and he now saw that Norna, however ingenious in duping others, could not altogether impose on herself. I his was a strong circumstance in favour of her sanity of intellect; but, on the other hand, her imputing to herself the guilt of parricide seemed so wild and improbable, as, in Mordaunt’s opinion, to throw much doubt upon her other assertions.
He had leisure enough to make up his mind on these particulars, for no one approached the solitary dwelling, of which Norna, her dwarf and he himself were the sole inhabitants. The Hoy island in which it stood is rude, bold, and lofty, consisting entirely of three hills — or rather one huge mountain divided into three summits, with the chasms, renfs, and valleys which descend from its summit to the sea, while its cresi, rising to great height, and shivered into rocks which seem almost inaccessible, intercepts the mists as they drive from the Atlantic, and, often obscured from the human eye forms the dark and unmolested retreat of hawks, eagles, and other birds of prey.1
The soil of the island is wet, mossy, cold, and unproductive presenting a sterile and desolate appearance, excepting where the sides of small rivulets, or mountain ravines, are fringed with dwarf bushes of birch, hazel, and wild currant, some of them so tall as to be denominated trees, in that bleak and bare country.
But the view of the seabeach which was Mordaunt’s favourite walk, when his convalescent state began to permit him to take exercise, had charms which compensated the wild appearance of the interior. A broad and beautiful sound, or strait, divides this lonely and mountainous island from Pomona and in the centre of that sound lies, like a tablet composed of emerald, the verdant little island of Graemsay.
On the distant Mainland is seen the town or village of Stromness, the excellence of whose haven is generally evinced by a considerable number of shipping in the roadstead, and, from the bay growing narrower, and lessening as it recedes, runs inland into Pomona, where its tide fills the fine sheet of water called the Loch of Stennis.
1 Note XV. Birds of Prey.
On this beach Mordaunt was wont to wander for hours, with an eye not insensible to the beauties of the view, though his thoughts were agitated with the most embarrassing meditations on his own situation. He was resolved to leave the island as soon as the establishment of his health should permit him to travel; yet gratitude to Norna, of whom he was at least the adopted, if not the real son, would not allow him to depart without her permission, even if he could obtain means of conveyance, of which he saw little possibility. It was only by importunity that he extorted from his hostess a promise, that, if he would consent to regulate his motions according to her directions, she would herself convey him to the capital of the Orkney Islands, when the approaching fair of Saint Olla should take place there.
Chapter XXXIV
Hark to the insult loud, the bitter sneer,
The fierce