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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:39:59 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:39:59 -0700 |
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diff --git a/12453-h/12453-h.htm b/12453-h/12453-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5bcf23f --- /dev/null +++ b/12453-h/12453-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,17138 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=UTF-8"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Miriam Monfort</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: smaller; float: right; clear: right;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em;} + .poem .caesura {vertical-align: -200%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12453 ***</div> + +<h1>MIRIAM MONFORT:</h1> + +<h3><i>A NOVEL</i>.</h3> + +<h3>BY THE AUTHOR OF</h3> + +<h3>"THE HOUSEHOLD OF BOUVERIE."</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Fancy, <i>with</i> fact, is just one fact the more."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Let this old woe step on the stage again,<br /></span> +<span>Act itself o'er anew for men to judge;<br /></span> +<span>Not by the very sense and sight indeed,<br /></span> +<span>Which take at best imperfect cognizance.<br /></span> +<span>Since, how heart moves brain, and how both move hand,<br /></span> +<span>What mortal ever in entirety saw?<br /></span> +<span>Yet helping us to all we seem to hear,<br /></span> +<span>For, how else know we save by worth of word?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BROWNING, "<i>The Ring and the Book</i>"</p> + +NEW YORK:<br /> +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,<br /> +549 & 551 BROADWAY.<br /> +1873.<br /> + +<h2>DEDICATION</h2> + +<p><i>This book is dedicated to the memory of one most dear, who saw it grow +to completion with pleasure and approbation, during the last happy +summer of a life since darkened by misfortune. Peace be his!</i></p> + +<p><i>MONFORT HALL.</i></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Not one friend have we here, not one true heart;<br /></span> +<span>We've nothing but ourselves."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"There's a dark spirit walking in our house,<br /></span> +<span>And swiftly will the destiny close on us.<br /></span> +<span>It drove me hither from my calm asylum;<br /></span> +<span>It lures me forward—in a seraph's shape<br /></span> +<span>I see it near, I see it nearer floating—<br /></span> +<span>It draws, it pulls me with a godlike power,<br /></span> +<span>And, lo, the abyss! and thither am I moving;<br /></span> +<span>I have no power within me—but to move."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"He is the only one we have to fear, he and his father."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>COLERIDGE'S <i>Translation of Schiller's "Wallenstein"</i></p> + +<p>MIRIAM MONFORT</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <b>PART I.</b><br /> +<ul> + <li><a href="#I_CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#I_CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#I_CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#I_CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#I_CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#I_CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#I_CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#I_CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#I_CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#I_CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#LIFE_AT_quotLESDERNIERquot"><b><i>LIFE AT "LESDERNIER."</i></b></a></li> +</ul> + <b>PART II.</b><br /> +<ul> + <li><a href="#AN_INTERLUDE"><b>AN INTERLUDE.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#SEA_AND_SHORE"><b><i>SEA AND SHORE</i></b></a></li> +</ul> + <b>PART III.</b><br /> +<ul> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_VIa"><b>CHAPTER VI.</b></a> [printer's error in original]</li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#THE_LETTER"><b>THE LETTER.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV.</b></a></li> + <li><a href="#III_CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV.</b></a></li> +</ul> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>PART I.</h2> + +<h2><i>MONFORT HALL</i>.</h2> + +<a name="I_CHAPTER_I"></a><h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>My father, Reginald Monfort, was an English gentleman of good family, +who, on his marriage with a Jewish lady of wealth and refinement, +emigrated to America, rather than subject her and himself to the +commentaries of his own fastidious relatives, and the incivilities of a +clique to which by allegiance of birth and breeding he unfortunately +belonged.</p> + +<p>Her own family had not been less averse to this union than the +aristocratic house of Monfort, and, had she not been the mistress of her +own acts and fortune, would, no doubt, have absolutely prevented it. As +it was, a wild wail went up from the synagogue at the loss of one of its +brightest ornaments, and the name of "Miriam Harz" was consigned to +silence forever.</p> + +<p>Orphaned and independent, this obloquy and oblivion made little +difference to its object, especially when the broad Atlantic was placed, +as it soon was, between her and her people, and new ties and duties +arose in a strange land to bind and interest her feelings.</p> + +<p>During her six years of married life, I have every reason to believe +that she was, as it is termed, "perfectly happy," although a mysterious +disease of the nervous centres, that baffled medical skill either to +cure or to name, early laid its grasp upon her, and brought her by slow +degrees to the grave, when her only child had just completed her fifth +year.</p> + +<p>My father, the younger son of a nobleman who traced his lineage from +Simon de Montfort, had been married in his own estate and among his +peers before he met my mother. Poor himself (his commission in the army +constituting his sole livelihood), he had espoused the young and +beautiful widow of a brother officer, who, in dying, had committed his +wife and her orphan child to his care and good offices, on a +battle-field in Spain, and with her hand he had received but little of +this world's lucre. The very pension, to which she would have been +entitled living singly, was cut off by her second marriage, and with +habits of luxury and indolence, such as too often appertain to the +high-born, and cling fatally to the physically delicate, the burden of +her expenses was more than her husband could well sustain.</p> + +<p>Her parents and his own were dead, and there were no relatives on either +side who could be called upon for aid, without a sacrifice of pride, +which my father would have died rather than have made. He was nearly +reduced to desperation by the circumstances of the case, when, +fortunately perhaps for both, she suddenly sickened, drooped, and died, +in his absence, during her brief sojourn at a watering-place, and all +considerations were lost sight of at the time, in view of this +unexpected and stunning blow—for Reginald Monfort was devoted, in his +chivalric way, to his beautiful and fragile wife, as it was, indeed, his +nature to be to every thing that was his own. Her very dependence had +endeared her to him, nor had she known probably to what straits her +exactions had driven him, nor what were his exigencies. Perhaps (let me +strive to do her this justice, at least), had he been more open on these +subjects, matters might have gone better. Yet he found consolation in +the reflection that she had been happy in her ignorance of his affairs, +and had experienced no strict privation during their short union, +inevitably as this must later have been her portion, and certainly as, +in her case, misery must have accompanied it.</p> + +<p>Her child, in the absence of all near relatives, became his charge, and +the little three-year-old girl, her mother's image, grew into his +closest affections by reason of this likeness and her very helplessness. +Two years after the death of his wife, he espoused my mother, a bright +and beautiful woman of his own age, with whom he met casually at a +banker's dinner in London, and who, fascinated by his Christian graces, +reached her fair Judaic hand over all lines of Purim prejudice, and +placed it confidingly in his own for life, thereby, as I have said, +relinquishing home and kindred forever.</p> + +<p>A hundred thousand pounds was a great fortune in those days and in our +then modest republic, and this was the sum my parents brought with them +from England—a heritage sufficiently large to have enriched a numerous +family in America, but which was chiefly centred on one alone, as will +be shown.</p> + +<p>My father, a proud, shy, fastidious man, had always been galled by the +consciousness of my mother's Israelitish descent, which she never +attempted to conceal or deny, although, to please his sensitive +requisitions, she dispensed with most of its open observances. That she +clung to it with unfailing tenacity to the last I cannot doubt, however, +from memorials written in her own hand—a very characteristic one—and +from the testimony of Mrs. Austin, her faithful friend and +attendant—the nurse, let me mention here, of my father's little +step-daughter during her mother's lifetime, and her brief orphanage, as +well as of his succeeding children.</p> + +<p>Stanch in his love of church and country, we, his daughters, were all +three christened, and "brought up," as it is termed, in the Episcopal +Church, and early taught devotion to its rites and ceremonies. Yet, had +we chosen for ourselves, perhaps our different temperaments might, even +in this thing, have asserted themselves, and we might have embraced +sects as diverse as our tastes were several. I shall come to this third +sister presently, of whom I make but passing mention here. She was our +flower, our pearl, our little ewe-lamb—the loveliest and the last—and +I must not trust myself to linger with her memory now, or I shall lose +the thread of my story, and tangle it with digression.</p> + +<p>With my Oriental blood there came strange, passionate affection for all +things sharing it, unknown to colder organizations—an affection in +whose very vitality were the seeds of suffering, in whose very strength +was weakness, perhaps in whose very enjoyment, sorrow. I have said my +mother died of an insidious and inscrutable malady, which baffled friend +and physician, when I was five years old. She had been so long ill, so +often alienated from her household for days together, that her death was +a less terrible evil, less suddenly so, at least, than if each morning +had found her at her board, each evening at the family hearth, and +every hour, as would have been the case in health, occupied with her +children.</p> + +<p>My father's grief was stern, quiet, solitary; ours, unreasonable and +noisy, but soon over as to manifestation. Yet I must have suffered more +than I knew of, I think, for then occurred the first of those strange +lethargies or seizures that afterward returned at very unequal intervals +during my childhood and early youth, and which roused my father's fears +about my life and intellect itself, and gave me into the hands of a +physician for many years thereof, vigorous, and healthy, and intelligent +otherwise as I felt, and seemed, and <i>was</i>.</p> + +<p>It was soon after the first settling down of tribulation in our +household to that flat and almost unendurable calm or level that +succeeds affliction, when a void is felt rather than expressed, and when +all outward observances return to their olden habit, as a car backs +slowly from a switch to its accustomed grooves, that a new face appeared +among us, destined to influence, in no slight degree, the happiness of +all who composed the family of Reginald Monfort.</p> + +<p>It was summer. The house in which we lived was partly finished in the +rear by wide and extensive galleries above and below, shaded by movable +<i>jalousies;</i> and, on the upper one of these, that on which our +apartments opened, my father had caused a hammock to be swung, for the +comfort and pleasure of his children. With one foot listlessly dragging +on the floor of the portico so as to propel the hammock, and lying +partly on my face while I soothed my wide-eyed doll to sleep, I lay +swaying in childish fashion when I heard Evelyn's soft step beside me, +accompanied by another, firmer, slower, but as gentle if not as light. I +looked up: a sweet face was bending over me, framed in a simple cottage +bonnet of white straw, and braids of shining brown hair.</p> + +<p>The eyes, large, lustrous, tender, of deepest blue, with their black +dilated pupils, I shall never forget as they first met my own, nor the +slow, sad smile that seemed to entreat my affectionate acquaintance. The +effect was immediate and electric. I sat up in the hammock, I stretched +out my hands to receive the proffered greeting, and then remained +silently, child-fashion, surveying the new-comer.</p> + +<p>"Kiss me," she said, "little Miriam. Have they not told you of me? I am +Constance Glen—soon to be your teacher."</p> + +<p>"Then I think I shall learn," I made grave reply, putting away the thick +curls from my eyes and fixing them once more steadily on the face of the +new-comer. "Yes, I <i>will</i> kiss you, for you look good and pretty. Did my +mother send you here?"</p> + +<p>"She is a strange child, Miss Glen," I heard Evelyn whisper. "Don't mind +her—she often asks such questions."</p> + +<p>"Very natural and affecting ones," Miss Glen observed, quietly, and the +tears sprang to her violet eyes, at which I wondered. Yet, understanding +not her words, I remembered them for later comprehension; a habit of +childhood too little appreciated or considered, I think, by older +people.</p> + +<p>She had not replied to my question, so I repeated it eagerly. "Did my +dear mother send you to me?" I said. "And where is she now?"</p> + +<p>"No, tender child! I have not seen your mother. She is in heaven, I +trust; where I hope we shall all be some day—with God. <i>He</i> sent me to +you, probably—I fancy so, at least."</p> + +<p>"Then God has got good again. He was very bad last week—very wicked; +he killed our mother," whispering mysteriously.</p> + +<p>"He is never bad, Miriam, never wicked; you must not say such things—no +Christian would."</p> + +<p>"But I am <i>not</i> a Christian, Mrs. Austin says; only a Jew. Did you ever +hear of the Jews?"</p> + +<p>Evelyn laughed, Mrs. Austin frowned, but Miss Glen was intensely grave, +as she rejoined:</p> + +<p>"A Jew may be very good and love God. That is all a little child can +know of religion. Yet we must all believe God and His Son were one." The +last words were murmured rather than spoken—almost self-directed.</p> + +<p>"Is His Son a little boy, and will he be fond of my mother?" I asked. +"Will she love him too? Oh, she loved me so much, so much!" and, in an +agony of grief, I caught Miss Glen around the neck, and sobbed +convulsively on her sympathetic breast. Again Evelyn smiled, I suppose, +for I heard Miss Glen say, rebukingly:</p> + +<p>"My dear Miss Erle, you must not make light of your little sister's +sufferings. They are very severe, I doubt not, young as she is. All the +more so that she does not know how to express them."</p> + +<p>Revolving these words, I came later to know their import. They seemed +unmeaning to me at the time, but the kind and deprecating tone of voice +in which they were conveyed was unmistakable, and that sufficed to +reassure me.</p> + +<p>"And now, Miriam, let me go to my room and take off my bonnet and shawl, +for I am going to stay with you. Perhaps you will show me the way +yourself," she said, pausing. "Bring Dolly, too;" and we walked off +hand-in-hand together to the large, commodious chamber Mrs. Austin +pointed out as that prepared for our governess. I recognized my affinity +from that hour.</p> + +<p>There, sitting on her knee, with her gentle hand on my hair, and her +sweet eyes fixed on mine, I learned at once to love Miss Glen, or +"Constance," as she made us call her, because her surname seemed +over-formal. She wished us to regard her as an elder sister, she said, +rather than mere instructress, deeming rightly that the law of love +would prove the stronger and better guidance in our case, and +understanding well, and by some line magnetic sympathy as it appeared, +my own peculiar nature, to which affection was a necessity.</p> + +<p>Ours was a peaceful and happy childhood under her gentle and fostering +rule; and, when it ceased, all the wires of life seemed jangled and +discordant again.</p> + +<p>She lived with us three years as friend and teacher. At the end of that +time her vocation and sphere of action were enlarged, not changed, for +she married my father, and thus our future welfare seemed secured.</p> + +<p>Alas for human foresight! Alas for affection powerless to save! Alas for +the vanity of mortal effort to contend with Fate!</p> + +<p>Our home was in one of the chief Northern cities of that great republic +which has for so many years commanded the admiration, respect, and +wonder, of the whole world. The house we occupied was situated in the +old and fashion-forsaken portion of the city. From its upper windows a +view of the majestic Delaware and its opposite shores was afforded to +the spectator; and the grounds surrounding the mansion were spacious for +those of a city-house, and deeply shaded by elms that had been lofty +trees in the time of General Washington.</p> + +<p>Four squares farther on, the roar of commerce swelled and surged, in +storehouse and counting-room, on mart and shipboard and quay; but here +all was quiet, calm, secluded, as in the country, miles beyond.</p> + +<p>Two houses besides our own shared the whole square between them, though +ours, the central one, possessed the largest inclosure, and was the +finest residence of the three, architecturally speaking; and the inmates +of these dwellings, with very few exceptions, constituted for years our +whole circle of friends and visitors.</p> + +<p>So it will be seen how secluded was the life we led, how narrow the +sphere we moved in, despite our acknowledged wealth, which, with some +other attributes we possessed, had not failed, if desired, to confer on +us both power and position in the society we shunned rather than shared.</p> + +<p>To my father's nature, however, retirement was as essential as routine. +He was one of those outwardly calm and inwardly excitable and nervous +people we sometimes encounter without detecting the fire beneath the +marble, the ever-burning lamp in the sarcophagus, unless we lift the lid +of rock to find it—an effort scarcely worth the making in any case, for +at best it lights only a tomb.</p> + +<p>Extremely mild and self-contained in manner, and chary of opinion and +expression, he was at the same time a man of strong and implacable +prejudices and even bitter animosities when once engendered. I do not +think his affections kept pace with these. He loved what belonged to +him, it is true, in a quiet, consistent way, and his good breeding and +practised equanimity were alone sufficient to secure the peace, and even +happiness, of a household; but of much effort or self-sacrifice I judge +him to have been incapable.</p> + +<p>He was a handsome man in his stiff and military way—well made, tall, +commanding in figure and in demeanor, stately in movement. His features +were regular, his teeth and hair well preserved, especially the first, +his hands and feet aristocratically small and shapely, his manner +vaguely courteous. He was a shy rather than reserved person, for, when +once the ice was broken, his nature bubbled over very boyishly at times, +and his confidence, once bestowed, was irrevocable. Like most men of his +temperament, he was keenly susceptible to deferential flattery, and +impatient of the slightest infraction of his dignity, which he guarded +punctiliously at all points. It was more this disposition always to wait +for overtures from others, and to slightly repel their first +manifestations, from his inveterate shyness, than any settled +determination on his part, that made him such an alien from general +association. Nervous, fastidious, exacting—what had he in common with +the texture of the new society in which he found himself, and what right +had he to fancy himself neglected where the "go-ahead" principle alone +was recognized, and time was esteemed too precious to waste in ceremony?</p> + +<p>Yet this injured feeling pursued him through life and made one of his +peculiarities, so that he drew more and more closely, as years passed +on, into his own shell, which may be said to have comprised his +household, his comforts, his hobbies, and his narrow neighborhood, in +which he was idolized, and the sympathy of which was very soothing to +his fastidious pride.</p> + +<p>Nothing so fosters haughtiness and egotism as a sphere like this, and it +may be doubted whether the crowned heads of the world receive more +adulation from their households than men so situated.</p> + +<p>From the moment he set his foot on the threshold of his own house, nay, +on the broad, quiet pavement of his own street, with its stately row of +ancient Lombardy poplars on one side, and blank, high-walled lumber-yard +on the other, he felt himself a sovereign—king of a principality! king +of a neighborhood;—what great difference is there, after all?</p> + +<p>It was only the hypochondriacal character of his mind that shielded him +from that chief human absurdity, pomposity. He needed all the praise and +consolation his friends could bestow simply to sustain him—no danger of +inflation in his case! He was shut away from self-complacency (the only +vice to which virtue is subjected) by the melancholy that permeated his +being, and which was probably in his case an +inheritance—constitutional, as it is said to be with things.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it will be well to give, in this place, some more vivid idea of +our home, which, after all, like the shell of the sea-fish, most +frequently shapes itself to fit the necessities and habits of its +occupants.</p> + +<p>Our house had been built in early times, and was essentially +old-fashioned, like the part of the city in which it was situated.. My +father, soon after his arrival in America, had fancied and purchased +this gloomy-looking gray stone edifice, with its massive granite steps +(imported at great cost, before the beautiful white-marble quarries had +been developed which abound in the vicinity of, and characterize the +dwellings of, that rare and perfect city), and remodelled its interior, +leaving the outside front of the building, with its screens of ancient +ivy, untouched and venerable, and changing only the exterior aspect of +the back of the mansion. Very striking was the contrast between the rear +and front and exterior and interior of "Monfort Hall," as it was +universally called.</p> + +<p>The dark panel-work within had all been rent away, to give place to +plaster glossy as marble, or fine French papers, gilded and painted, or +fresco-paintings done with great cost and labor, and indifferent +success. The lofty ceilings and massive walls formed outlines of +strength and beauty to the large and well-ventilated apartments, which +made it easy to render them almost palatial by the means of such +accessories and appliances as wealth commands, and which were lavished +in this instance.</p> + +<p>The back of the house was, however, truly picturesque. Here a bay window +was judiciously thrown out; there a portico appended or hanging balcony +added to break the gray expanse of wall or sullen glare of windows; and +a small gray tower or belfry, containing a clock that chimed the hours, +and a fine telescope, rose from the octagon library which my father had +built for his own peculiar sanctum after my mother's death, and which +formed an ell to the building. The green, grassy, deeply-shadowed lawn +lay behind the mansion, sloping down into a dark, deep dell, across +which brawled a tiny brook long since absorbed by the thirsty earth +thrown out from many foundations of stores and tenements and great +warehouses hard by; a dell where once roses, lilacs, guelder-globes, and +calacanthus-bushes, grew with a vigor that I have nowhere seen +surpassed.</p> + +<p>It was not much the fashion then to have rare garden-flowers. Our +conservatory contained a fair array of these, but we had beds of tulips, +hyacinths, and crocuses, basking in the sunshine, and violets and lilies +lying in the shadow such as I see rarely now, and which cost us as +little thought or trouble in their perennial permanence, whereas the +conservatory was an endless grief and care, although superintended by a +thoroughly-taught English gardener, and kept up at unlimited expense.</p> + +<p>My sister—for so I was taught to call Evelyn Erle—revelled in this +floral exclusiveness, but to me the dear old garden was far more +delightful and life-giving. I loved our sweet home-flowers better than +those foreign blossoms which lived in an artificial climate, and +answered no thrilling voice of Nature, no internal impulse in their +hot-house growth and development. What stirred me so deeply in April, +stirred also the hyacinth-bulb and the lily of the valley deep in the +earth—warmth, moisture, sunshine and shadow, and sweet spring rain—and +the same fullness of life that throbbed in my veins in June called forth +the rose. There was vivid sympathy here, and I gave my heart to the +garden-flowers as I never could do to the frailer children of the +hot-house, beautiful as they undeniably are.</p> + +<p>"Miriam has really a <i>vulgar</i> taste for Nature, as Miss Glen calls it," +Evelyn said one day, with a curl of her slight, exquisite lip as she +shook away from her painted muslin robe, the butter-cups, heavy with +moisture and radiant with sunshine, which I had laid upon her knee. "She +ought to have been an Irish child and born, in a hovel, don't you think +so, papa?" and she put me aside superciliously. Dirt and Nature were +synonymous terms with her.</p> + +<p>My father smiled and laid down his newspaper, then looked at me a little +gravely as I stood downcast by Evelyn.</p> + +<p>"You <i>are</i> getting very much sunburnt, Miriam, there is no doubt of +that. A complexion like yours needs greater care for its preservation +than if ten shades fairer. Little daughter, you must wear your bonnet, +or give up running in the garden in the heat of the day."</p> + +<p>"I try to impress this on Miriam all the time," said Mrs. Austin, +coming as usual to aid in the assault, "but she is so hard-headed, it is +next to impossible to make her mindful of what I tell her. Miss Glen is +the only one that seems to have any influence over her nowadays." She +said this with a slight, impatient toss of the head, as she paused in +her progress through the room with a huge jar of currant-jelly, she had +been sunning in the dining-room window, poised on the palm of either +hand, jelly that looked like melted rubies, now to be consigned to the +store-room.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, we must have patience," was the rejoinder. "She is +young—impulsive (I wish she were more like you, Evelyn, my dear!), her +mother over again in temperament, without the saving clauses of beauty +and refinement; these she will never attain, I fear, and with much of +the characteristic persistence of that singular race, which in my wife, +however, I never detected, though so much nearer the fountain-head!" +This was said half in soliloquy, but Evelyn replied to it as if it had +been addressed to her—replied, as she often did, by an interrogatory.</p> + +<p>"What tribe did her mother belong to, papa?"</p> + +<p>"The tribe of Judah, I believe, my love, was that her family traced +their lineage from; but you question as if it were Pocahontas there was +reference to instead of a high-bred Jewish lady!" speaking with +asperity.</p> + +<p>"I meant no offence, papa, I assure you," said Evelyn, quietly; "I only +asked for information. Certainly there <i>is</i> something very grand in +being related to King David."</p> + +<p>"There is, indeed," said a gentle voice close at hand. Miss Glen had +entered silently as they were speaking. "There was genius in that +strain of blood, Evelyn, nay, more, divinity. Christ claimed such +descent. Let us never forget that! He, the universal brother." She spoke +with feeling and dignity, and led me away, lecturing me greatly as she +did so for not obeying Mrs. Austin as to the sun-bonnet bondage, which +she promised; to make as light as possible by purchasing for me a new +French contrivance called a <i>calêche</i>, light and airy and sheltering all +at once.</p> + +<p>I was seven years old then, and the understanding was complete between +us that endured to the end, but as yet there was no foreshadowing of her +marriage with my father.</p> + +<p>She had been engaged, when she came to us, to a gentleman, who must have +perished at sea soon afterward—a young naval officer who had gone out +on board of the United States sloop-of-war Hornet, the fate of which +vessel is still wrapped in mystery, though that it foundered suddenly +seemed then, as now, the universal opinion. Miss Glen some time before +had made up her mind to this, and was stemming a tide of grief with +great fortitude and resolution, while she was laying the foundations of +character and education in her two very opposite pupils, both of whom +she guided with equal ability.</p> + +<p>My father was not unaware of her sufferings, I think, indeed, this +community of sorrow first attracted him toward her, and later he was +confirmed in his admiration of her womanly self-control and beauty of +character, by the development he saw in his children, the work of her +hand. That he was ever profoundly in love with her I do not believe, nor +did she pretend to any passionate regard for him. Respect, friendship, +confidence, mutual esteem, were the foundations of their union, which +certainly promised enduring happiness to all concerned, and which was +looked on with favor by the whole household, not excepting Mrs. Austin +herself.</p> + +<p>"If any successor of your dear mother <i>must</i> come, Evelyn," I heard her +say one day to my sister, "we had better have her we know, to be sure, +than a mere stranger, but I <i>must</i> say I can't see why your papa does +not content himself as he is. I am sure he seems very happy in his +library and his greenhouse, and driving out in his Tilbury, or with you +two young ladies in the coach of afternoons, and chatting and smoking of +evenings with Mr. Bainrothe or old Mr. Stanbury. I should think he might +have had enough of marrying by this time, and funerals and all that. +Your own precious mamma first, an earl's own daughter (Evelyn Erle, +never forget that, if your father <i>was</i> a poor soldier! you have grand +relations in England, child, if you are not as rich as some others I +could name), and then your mother and Miriam's, Miss Harz that was, such +an excellent woman for all her persuasion, to be sure; better than some +Christians, I must say; and she just three years and a half laid in her +grave!" A doleful sigh gave emphasis to this remark. "I was never more +surprised, I must confess, than when he sent for me last night to tell +me he was to marry Miss Glen next week! Who is she, I wonder, Evelyn; +did you ever hear her speak of her kinfolks? Not a soul except two or +three of her church-people has been near her since she has been here, +and Franklin says she very seldom gets letters." A pinch of snuff +emphasized this remark.</p> + +<p>"I heard her say she had only one brother, Mrs. Austin, and that he was +in some distant part of the world, in India, or New Orleans, or some +such place, she does not know herself exactly where. He is a young lad, +and she grieves about him; his picture is most beautiful, I think. He +ran off and went to sea, and it almost killed her. That was some years +ago, and since then she has been teaching in a great school until she +came to us, and was never so peaceful before, she says, as she is now. I +think she will make papa happy too, and keep him in his own family, +since she has none of her own. I was so afraid it was Mrs. Stanbury at +one time."</p> + +<p>"I never thought of that," said Mrs. Austin, starting. "What put it into +your head, Evelyn, and what made you so close-mouthed about it? Child, +you have an old head on young shoulders—I always said so; as like your +own precious mother as two peas. Yes, that would have been a nice +connection truly! The two young Stanburys forsooth, to divide every +thing with you and Miriam, and her rigid economy the rule in the house, +and Norman riding over every one on a high horse, and that lame brat to +be nursed and waited on! Any thing better than that, Evelyn. You are +right, my dear." And she tapped her suggestive snuffbox.</p> + +<p>My elder sister was about thirteen years old when she uttered those +oracular sentences which elicited Mrs. Austin's commendations, and her +own clear-sighted <i>prévoyance;</i> and I, at eight, whose mind was turned +to any subject save that of marrying and giving in marriage, stood +confounded by her superior wisdom and discretion. I gazed upon her +open-mouthed and wide-eyed as she spoke, drinking in every word, yet +very little enlightened, after all, by her remarks. She turned suddenly +upon me, and tapped my cheek slightly with her fan. It was a way she had +of manifesting contempt.</p> + +<p>"Now run and tell Mrs. Stanbury every word I have spoken, just as soon +as you can, Miriam, do you hear? Don't forget one syllable, that's a +darling. Come, rehearse!"</p> + +<p>"Won't it do after dinner, sister Evelyn?" I asked, gravely and +literally. "I want to go and see about my mole, now—my poor mole that +Hodges wounded with his spade this morning. It suffers so +dreadfully!"—clasping my hands in a tragic manner, not unusual with me +when excited.</p> + +<p>"There! what did I tell you, Mrs. Austin? You will believe my report of +Miriam another time—little blab! There is nothing safe where she is, +and as to keeping a secret, she could not do it if her own life were at +stake, I verily believe."</p> + +<p>"I <i>can</i> keep a secret," I said, fiercely, "you know I can! You burnt my +finger in the candle to make me tell you where the squirrel was, and I +would not do it; Now, miss, remember that, and tell the truth next +time!"</p> + +<p>"What a little spit-fire," said Evelyn, derisively. "You see for +yourself, Mrs. Austin."</p> + +<p>"O Evelyn, Evelyn, did you, do that?" moaned the good woman. "Your +little sister's hand! To burn it so cruelly, and in cold blood. I would +not have believed it of you, my Evelyn—that was not like your mamma at +all," and she shook her head dolefully. "Miriam is a brave child, after +all." A wonderful admission for her to make.</p> + +<p>"If you believe every thing that limb of the synagogue tells you, Mrs. +Austin, you will have a great deal to swallow, that is all I shall say +on the subject," and she turned away derisively.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to deny it, then, Evelyn Erle?" asked Mrs. Austin, +earnestly, laying her hand on her arm, and shaking her slightly as she +was about to leave the room. "Come back and answer me. I hope Miriam is +only angry—I hope you did <i>not</i> do this thing."</p> + +<p>"I will not be forcibly detained by any old woman in America," said +Evelyn, struggling stoutly, "nor questioned either about a pack of fibs. +Miriam knows better than to tell such stories—or ought to be taught +better."</p> + +<p>"It was no story," I said, solemnly. "It was true. You did burn my +finger, and begged me not to tell Constance or papa afterward, and I +never told them, because I never break my word if I can help it, and I +wouldn't have told Mrs. Austin (but I didn't <i>promise</i> about her, you +know), only you twitted me so meanly, and made me so mad—and it all +came out. For I can keep a secret! I know where that squirrel is now, +Evelyn Erle, but I will never tell any one—never—not even Constance +Glen. I promised myself that, and crossed my heart about it when you +tried to cut off its tail—its pretty, bushy tail that God gave it to +keep the flies off with."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Austin was shedding tears by this time; Evelyn's insolence and +duplicity had stung her to the quick, and she saw, with real concern, +that I had justice on my side. She had relinquished her hold on Evelyn, +who stood now sullenly glaring at me, pale as a sheet, her eyes white +with rage, looking like heated steel, her lips trembling with passion.</p> + +<p>"You <i>shall</i> tell me where that squirrel is, or I will appeal to papa," +she said, sharply. "It was mine. Norman Stanbury said so when he brought +it here and gave it to me. You heard him, little cheat!"</p> + +<p>"He told me to feed it, and take care of it, and not let it get hurt, if +he did give it to you," I replied, doggedly, "and I did what he told me. +You are a born tyrant, Evelyn. Constance told you so a month ago, when +you twisted Laura Stanbury's arm for not teaching you that puzzle; and +there is a wicked word I know that suits you to-day, only I am afraid to +say it—Constance would be angry—but it begins with an L and ends with +an R, and has only four letters in it. There, now!"</p> + +<p>I well deserved the slap, no doubt, that rang down with such lightning +speed and force on my cheek, and, fortunately, Mrs. Austin arrested my +panther-like spring toward Evelyn, or the nails I held in rest might +have brought blood from her waxen face, and marred its symmetry for a +season. As it was, I screamed wildly, until Miss Glen came in, attracted +by my cries, and, receiving no satisfactory explanation as to their +cause, led me to her own apartment to compose, question, and rebuke me +in that firm but gentle manner that ever calmed my spirit like oil +poured upon troubled waters. The end of the matter was that, when I met +Evelyn again, I went up to her in a spirit of conciliation, and mutely +kissed her as a sign of peace and penitence.</p> + +<p>It was a matter of indifference to me that this advance was carelessly +received, since it satisfied my conscience and her who stirred its +depths—nor did my cheek flush at the derisive taunt that followed me +from the room after this obligation to self was discharged—"Now tattle +again, little prophetess," for thus she often alluded to my Hebrew name +and its signification, "and produce my squirrel, or look well to your +wounded mole!"</p> + +<p>This threat was not without its effect. In a deep, leafy covert I +concealed my poor dying patient, "earthy, and of the earth"—literally, +in every sense—but the squirrel still enjoyed its sequestered home on +the topmost branch of an English walnut-tree, from which it cheerfully, +but cautiously, descended at my call when I went out to carry it +almonds or filberts from the dessert (invariably served with wine to my +father, who, in observance of his English custom, sat alone some moments +after the ladies of his household had withdrawn from table), nor did +Evelyn have the despotic pleasure of abbreviating his right of tail.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="I_CHAPTER_II"></a><h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>My father's marriage was solemnized very quietly in that old gray church +with its fairy chime of bells, all alive on that occasion, which stood +in the busy street not far from our quiet house. An aged and reverend +bishop, who had administered the sacred communion to Washington and his +wife when the city we dwelt in had been the temporary residence of that +chief, performed the ceremony, which, with the exception of my father's +immediate household and neighbors, none were invited to witness. When +the solemn rite was ended, I made my way to Constance, so fair that day +in her pearl-gray robes and simple white bonnet, and clasped her hand. +She stooped down and kissed me many times, to conceal her tears, +probably.</p> + +<p>"Call me mamma now, dearest," she said, at last; "and let the name be as +a new compact between us. Now let Evelyn come to me, my love, she, too, +is my daughter; and go with Mrs. Austin."</p> + +<p>I did as she directed, grasping Mrs. Austin's hand tightly as we walked +home, and proceeding at so brisk a pace that she was often obliged to +check me.</p> + +<p>"Poor child, why should you rejoice so?" she said, mournfully. "Don't +you know you have lost your father from this hour? Do you suppose he +will ever love you as well again—you or Evelyn? Poor, ignorant, +sacrificed babes in the woods!"</p> + +<p>"I don't care," I said. "I have got my new mamma to love me, even if he +does not. 'Mamma—mamma Constance!' how pretty that sounds. Oh, that is +what I shall always call her from this time—'Constance,' as usual, you +know, with 'mamma' before it." And I kept repeating "mamma Constance," +childishly.</p> + +<p>"Foolish thing," she rejoined. "I wish you had your sister Evelyn's +consideration; but at any rate," she murmured, "the money will be all +yours. He cannot alienate that; yours by marriage contract, not even to +divide with Evelyn, and" (elevating her voice) "that you will surely do +hereafter, will you not, Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," I replied; "not unless she is good to me and stops +calling me 'little Jew,' and other mean, disagreeable names. But I +always thought Evelyn was the rich one until now. She has so many fine +clothes, and such great relations, you say, in England."</p> + +<p>"True, true, gentle blood is a fine heritage; but your mother had great +store of gold, and, when your papa dies, all this will belong to you (it +is time you should know this, Miriam), and you will have us all to take +care of and support; so you must be very good, indeed."</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry," I said, with a deep sigh and a feeling that a heavy +burden had been thrown suddenly on my shoulders; "but I tell you what I +will do" (brightening up), "I will give it every bit to mamma, and she +will support us all. She will live much longer than papa, because she is +so much younger—twenty years, I believe. Isn't that a great +difference?"</p> + +<p>"Your father will outlive me, child, I trust, should such a state of +things ever come to pass; but I am old, and shall not cumber the earth +long," and a groan burst from her lips.</p> + +<p>"How old <i>are</i> you, Mrs. Austin?" I asked, with a feeling of awe +creeping over me, as though I had been talking to the widow of +Methuselah, and I looked up into her face, pityingly.</p> + +<p>"Fifty-five years old, child, come next Michaelmas, and a miserable +sinner still, in the eyes of my Lord! I was a widow when I went to hire +with Mrs. Erle, Evelyn's lady mother—that was soon after she married +the captain, who had only his sword—and I have lived with her and hers +ever since, and served them faithfully, I trust, and I hope I do not +deserve to be cast on strangers and upstarts in my old age, even if one +of them happens to marry your father. Constance Glen, forsooth!" and she +drew up her stiff figure.</p> + +<p>"To be wicked and old must be <i>so</i> dreadful," I said, thoughtfully +shaking my head and casting my eyes to heaven.</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking about, child?" she asked, jerking my hand +sharply. "Who is it that you call such hard names—'wicked and old' +forsooth? Answer me directly!"</p> + +<p>"It was what you said a while ago about yourself I was thinking of, Mrs. +Austin," I replied. "To be more than half a hundred years old! It is so +many years to live; and then to be such a sinner, too—how hard it must +be! I always thought you were very good before; and I am sure you are +not gray and wrinkled and blear-eyed, like Granny Simpson!"</p> + +<p>"Granny Simpson, indeed! You must be crazy, Miriam Monfort! Why, she is +eighty if she is an hour, and hobbles on a cane! I flatter myself I am +not infirm yet; and, if you call a well-preserved, middle-aged, English +woman, like me, <i>old</i>, your brains must be addled. Look at my hair, my +teeth, my complexion"—pausing suddenly before me and confronting me +fiercely. "See my step, my figure, and have more sense, if you <i>are</i> a +little foreign Jewish child. As to sinfulness, we are all <i>sinful</i> +beings, more or less. To be <i>wicked</i> is a very different thing from +sinful. I never told you I was wicked, child. What put that into your +head?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thought they were the same thing. Which is the worst, Mrs. +Austin?" I asked, with unfeigned simplicity.</p> + +<p>"There, Miriam, step on before! you walk too fast anyhow for me to-day. +Besides, your tongue wags too limberly by half. You always did ask queer +questions, and will to your dying day. No help for it, I suppose, but +patience; but it is all of that Gipsy blood! Now, Evelyn's line of +people was altogether different. She has what they used to call in +England 'blue blood in her veins;' do you understand, Miriam? Blue +blood! Catch her asking indiscreet questions! Take pattern by your elder +sister, Miss Miriam Monfort, and you will do well."</p> + +<p>Not knowing what evil I had done, or how I had offended, or how blood +could be <i>blue</i>, yet sorry for having erred, I made my way as I was told +to do, speedily and silently homeward, and was glad to find shelter from +all misunderstanding and persecution in the arms and shadow of my "mamma +Constance," as I called her from that hour.</p> + +<p>But, to Evelyn she was "Mistress Monfort," from the time she espoused my +father; and the coldness between them (they were never very congenial) +was apparent from that time, in spite of every effort on the part of my +sweet mamma to surmount and throw it aside.</p> + +<p>It is time I should speak of those few neighbors who composed our +society at this period, and to whom some allusion has already been +made—the occupants of those two houses which, as I have said, divided +with ours the square we lived in, with their grounds. These green-shaded +yards were divided one from the other by slender iron railings, which +formed a line of boundary, no more, and presented no obstacle to the +exploring eye. Graceful gates of the same material opened from the +pavement, common to all, and presented a symmetrical and uniform +appearance to the passer-by. Stone lions guarded ours, but Etruscan +vases crowned the portals of Mrs. Stanbury and Mr. Bainrothe, filled +with blooming plants in the summer season, but bare and desolate and +gray enough in winter.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stanbury, our right-hand neighbor (ay, in every way right-handed), +was a widow lady of about thirty-five years of age. Her husband had been +a sea-captain, and, being cut off suddenly, had, with the exception of +the house she lived in, left her no estate. She owed her maintenance +chiefly to the liberality of his uncle, a gruff old bachelor of sixty or +more, who lived with and took care of her and her children in a way that +was both kindly and disagreeable. He was a bald-headed man (who +flourished a stout, gold-headed cane, I remember), with a florid, +healthy, and honest face and burly figure, engaged in some lucrative +city business, and entirely devoted to his nephew and niece, Mrs. +Stanbury's only children, the one fifteen and the other about twelve +years old at the time of my father's marriage.</p> + +<p>Strangely enough, her own deepest interest, if not affection, seemed +centred at this period in her little orphan ward and nephew, George +Gaston, a child of nine years old, who had recently come into her hands; +singularly gifted and beautiful, but lamed for life, it was feared, and +a great sufferer physically from the effects of the fatal hip-disease +that had destroyed the strength and usefulness of one limb, and impaired +his constitution.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stanbury herself was a lady-like and pretty woman, fair and +graceful, and her daughter Laura closely resembled her; both sweet +specimens of unpretending womanhood; both devoted to the discharge of +their simple duties and to one another; both entirely estimable.</p> + +<p>Norman Stanbury was of a different type. He had probably inherited from +his father his manly and robust person, his open, dauntless, dark, and +handsome face, in which there was so much character that you hardly +looked for intellect, or perhaps at a brief glance confounded one with +the other. He was the avowed and devoted swain of my sister Evelyn, from +the time when they first chased fireflies together, up to their +dancing-school adolescence, and for me maintained a disinterested, +brotherly regard that was never slow to manifest itself in any time of +need, or even in the furtherance of my childish whims. Our relations +with this family were most friendly and agreeable. There never was any +undue familiarity; my father's reserve, and their own dignity, would of +themselves have precluded that certain precursor to the decline of +superficial friendship; but a consistent and somewhat ceremonious +intercourse was preserved from first to last, that could scarcely be +called intimacy.</p> + +<p>Between George Gaston and myself alone existed that perfect freedom of +speech and intuitive understanding that lie at the root of all true and +deep affection. His delicacy of appearance, his stunted stature, his +invalid requisitions, nay, his very deformity, for his twisted limb +amounted to this, put aside all thought of infantile flirtation (for we +know that, strange as it may seem, such a thing does exist) from the +first hour of our acquaintance. He always seemed to me much younger than +he was, or than I was—as boys, even under ordinary circumstances, are +apt to appear to girls of their own age, from their slower development +of mind and manner, if not of body.</p> + +<p>But this lovely waxen boy, so frail and spiritual as to look almost +angelic, and certainly very far my superior intellectually, seemed from +his helplessness peculiarly infantile in comparison with my robust +energy, and became consequently, in my eyes, an object of tenderest +commiseration. From the first he clung to me with strange tenacity, for +our tastes were congenial. He brought with him from his Southern home +stores of books and shells and curious playthings and mechanical toys, +such as I had never seen before, and to spread these out and explain +them for my amusement was his chief delight.</p> + +<p>My memory in turn was richly stored with poetry, some of it far above my +own comprehension, but clinging irresistibly to my mind through the +music of the metre. I had revelled in old ballads until I could recite +nearly all of these precious relics of heroic times, or rather chant +them forth monotonously enough in all probability, yet in a way that +riveted his attention forcibly, and roused his high-strung poetic +temperament to enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>When ill or suffering, if asked what he needed for relief, he would say +"Miriam," as naturally as a thirsty man would call for a glass of clear +cold water. For his amusement I converted myself into a mime, a +mountebank. When I went to the theatre, the performance must be repeated +for his benefit, and many characters centred in one.</p> + +<p>For him I danced the "Gavotte," the "shawl-dance," as taught to do by +Monsieur Mallet, at the great dancing-school on Chestnut Street, or +jumped Jim Crow to his infinite amusement and the unmitigated disgust of +Evelyn, to whom his physical infirmity made him any thing but +attractive. Such personal perfection as she possessed is, I am afraid, +apt to make us cold-hearted and exacting as to externals in others. +Evelyn could endure commonplace, but could not forgive a blemish. Once +Norman Stanbury came very near, losing her favor for having a wart on +his finger; another time, she banished him from her presence for weeks, +for having stained his hands, beyond the power of soap-and-water or +vinegar to efface, in gathering walnuts. Certainly no despot ever +governed more entirely through the medium of fear than did she through +the tyranny of a fastidious caprice united to a form and face of +surpassing beauty and high-bred grace.</p> + +<p>Even my father fell under this requisitive influence of hers. Propriety, +the quality he worshipped, stood forth enshrined in her, and, from the +lifting of her fan to the laying down of her knife and fork, all was +faultless. The prestige, too, of birth, his special weakness, lingered +about her, and elevated her to a pedestal above any other inmate of his +household.</p> + +<p>Her mother, who married him for convenience, and whose selfish +requisitions had almost driven him mad, was the honorable Mrs. Erle, and +an earl's daughter. He had loved my mother twice as well, found her ten +times more attractive and interesting, devoted and congenial; admired +her grace, recognized all her worth, not only in deed but in word, and +with a fidelity of heart that never wavered even when he married again. +Yet the prestige of descent was wanting in her and hers, or rather, +such as it was, brought with it ignoble and repulsive associations +<i>only</i>. He was not the man to reach a hand across Shylock and the +old-clothes man, to grasp that of the poet-king of Israel; or Esther, +the avenging queen of a downtrodden nation; or Joab, strong in valor and +fidelity; or Deborah, inspired to rule a people from beneath the shelter +of her palm-tree in the wilderness.</p> + +<p>The grandeur of the past, in his estimation, was eclipsed by the +ignominy of the present; but with me it was otherwise, and, as I grew +old enough to recognize the peculiar traits of that ancient people from +which I sprung, it pleased me to imagine that whatever there was about +me of fiery persistency, of fearless faith, of unshrinking devotion, +nay, of bitter remembrance of injuries, and power to avenge or forgive +them, as the case might be, sprang from that remarkable race who called +themselves at one time, with His permission, the chosen children of God.</p> + +<p>I think these very characteristics of mine repelled my father and jarred +on his nervous temperament, endangering that outward calm which it was +his pride and care to preserve as necessary to high-bred demeanor, and +thus intrenching on his ideas of personal dignity. Yet, with strange +inconsistency, it was her very indulgence of these peculiarities that +inclined him most strongly to Constance Glen, and finally, I am well +convinced, determined him on making her his wife, as one well suited to +secure the welfare of his turbulent and incomprehensible child, his +"rebellious Miriam," as he sometimes called me when milder words availed +not.</p> + +<p>He had, as I have said, an "English" horror of scenes and excitement of +any kind. He was conservative in every way. He believed in the British +classics, and would not admit that any thing could ever equal, far less +surpass them (dreary bores that many of them are to me!). Walter Scott's +novels were the only ones of later days he ever allowed himself to read +approvingly; for, once being beguiled, against his will almost, into +sitting up late at night to finish a new work called "Pelham," he +frowned down all allusion to the book or its author ever afterward, as +derogatory to his dignity.</p> + +<p>"Bulwer and Disraeli are literary coxcombs," he said, "who ought not to +be encouraged, and who are trying to undermine wholesome English +literature."</p> + +<p>"O father," I ventured to observe on one occasion, "'Vivian Grey' is +splendid. It is a delightful dream, more vivid than life itself; it is +like drinking champagne, smelling tuberoses, inhaling laughing-gas, +going to the opera, all at one time, and, if you once take it in your +hand, nothing short of a stroke of lightning could rend it away, I am +convinced. Do read it, sir, to please me, and retract your +denunciation."</p> + +<p>"Never," he said firmly, solemnly even, "and I counsel you, Miriam, in +turn, to seek your draughts of soul from our pure 'wells of English +undefiled,' rather than such high-flown fancies and maudlin streams as +flow from the pen of this accomplished Hebrew. There is a little too +much of the Jeremiah and Isaiah style about such extracts as I have +seen, to suit my taste."</p> + +<p>"The idea of a Jew writing novels!" said Evelyn, derisively as she +sipped her wine.</p> + +<p>"Or the grandest poem in the world!" added Mr. Bainrothe, who was dining +with us that day, coming to the rescue quite magnanimously as it seemed, +and for once receiving as his recompense a grateful look from the stray +lamb of the tribe of Judah, reposing quietly in a Christian fold.</p> + +<p>"What poem do you allude to?" said Evelyn, superciliously. "'Paradise +Lost?'—Oh, I thought Milton was a Unitarian, not quite a Jew; almost as +bad though!"</p> + +<p>"No, the book of Job," replied Mr. Bainrothe. "It was that I alluded +to."</p> + +<p>"And the Psalms," I added, breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Dear me," said Evelyn, "what an array of learning we have all at once! +Why, every Sunday-school child knows about the Psalms. David and Solomon +did nothing else but sing and dance, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Irreverent, very, Evelyn," said my father, looking at her a little +severely, in spite of his own "Jeremiah" and "Isaiah" allusions. I had +never heard him check her so openly before, and enjoyed it thoroughly. +My smile of approbation provoked her, I suppose, for she pursued:</p> + +<p>"I am so tired of having the Bible thrown at my head; you must excuse +me, papa. For my part, I find the New Testament all-sufficient. I weary +of the horrors of those Jews; worse than our Choctaw Indians, I verily +believe."</p> + +<p>"So they were, so they were, my dear," said my father, complacently, +"but for some reasons we must always treat their memory with a certain +respect. They were God's people, remember, in the absence of a better, +and their history is written in this book, which we must all revere."</p> + +<p>"A very great people, surely," said Mr. Bainrothe, "and destined to be +so again. Don't you think so, Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," I said; "I have never thought of such a possibility +before, I acknowledge, yet it is natural I should incline to my +mother's people, and I can say heartily, <i>I hope so</i>, Mr. Bainrothe."</p> + +<p>"Then you want to see the Christian religion trampled under foot," said +Evelyn, spitefully, fixing her eyes on mine.</p> + +<p>The blood rose hotly to my temples. "No, no, indeed! You know I do not, +Evelyn, for it is mine; but Christ died for all, Jew as well as Gentile. +Through him let us hope for change and mercy and peace on earth. When +infinite harmony prevails, the Hebrew race will find its appointed place +and level again, through one great principle."</p> + +<p>"My idea is, that it has found its appointed place and level, and will +abide there.—But to digress, when do you expect your son, Mr. +Bainrothe?"</p> + +<p>I have anticipated by many years in giving this snatch of conversation +here. Let us go back to the time of my father's marriage, and to affairs +as they stood then, for precious are the unities.</p> + +<p>I need not drop Mr. Bainrothe, however, and it was of him, our left-hand +neighbor, so intimately connected with our destiny, one and all, that I +was about to speak when the digression occurred which led me from the +high-road of my story.</p> + +<p>Our "sinister neighbor," as my father laughingly called him sometimes +with unconscious truth, in reference to his <i>left-hand</i> adjacency, was a +handsome and gentlemanly-looking man of no very particular age, or +rather in his appearance there was no criterion for decision on this +subject. His form was as slender and elastic, his step as light, his +teeth, hair, and complexion, as unexceptionable as though he had been +twenty-five; nor were there any of those signs and symptoms about him by +which the weather-wise usually measure experience and length of days.</p> + +<p>If care had come nigh him at all, it had swept as lightly past him as +time itself. His address was invariably urbane, self-possessed, +well-bred; his voice was pleasant, his smile rather brilliant, though it +never reached his eyes, except when he sneered, which was rarely and +terribly.</p> + +<p>They glittered then with a strange cold light, those variegated orbs, +but their ordinary expression was earnest and investigatory. They were +well-cut eyes, moreover, of a yellowish-brown color, and I used to +remark as a little child—for children observe the minutiae of personal +peculiarities much more closely than their elders—that the iris of both +orbs was speckled with green and golden spots, which seemed to mix and +dilate occasionally, and gave them a decidedly kaleidoscopic effect.</p> + +<p>His skin was clear and even florid, and his lips had the peculiarity of +turning suddenly white, or rather livid, without any evident cause. This +my father thought betokened disease of the heart, but I learned later to +know it was the only manifestation of suppressed feeling which the habit +of his life could not overcome, and that proved him still mortal and +fallible.</p> + +<p>He had bought and moved into the house he occupied, in his single +estate, with a few efficient servants, soon after my father had taken +possession of his own larger mansion, and it was not long before the +best understanding existed between these two. My father's <i>hauteur</i> was +no safeguard against the steady and self-poised approaches—his shyness +found relief in the calm self-reliance of his "left-hand" neighbor; and, +as they were both lovers of books, rather than students thereof, a +congeniality of tastes on literary subjects drew them together in those +hours of leisure which Mr. Bainrothe usually passed in his own or my +father's library, in the cultivation of the <i>dolce far niente</i>—I beg +pardon—his mind.</p> + +<p>What his occupation was, if indeed he had any worthy of a definite name, +I never knew. That he was a kind of intermediate agent or broker I have +since suspected. His leisure seemed infinite. He came and went to and +from the business part of the city several times a day, and often in the +elegant barouche he kept, with its span of highly-groomed horses and +respectable-looking negro driver in simple livery—an old retainer of +his house, as he informed my father, faithful still, though freed in the +time of universal emancipation.</p> + +<p>His association was undoubtedly, to some extent, with the best men of +the town—bankers and merchants chiefly; and once, when my father had +called in a considerable sum of money which he had loaned out at +interest on good mortgages, for a term of years, he was so obliging as +to interest the most notable bankers of the city in its safe and prompt +reinvestment.</p> + +<p>This gentleman dined with us on one occasion at this period, when his +conference with my father intrenched on our late dinner-hour, and I +shall never forget the singular beauty of his face and expression, nor +the charm of his manner, as he sat at our board discoursing, with an +<i>abandon</i> and witchery I have observed in no one else, on subjects of +art and letters, on men and manners, of nations past and present, until +hours fled like moments, and time seemed utterly forgotten in the +presence of geniality and genius. Then, starting gayly and suddenly to +his feet, he remembered an engagement, and sped away so abruptly that +his visit seemed to me but a vision breaking in on the monotony of our +lives, too bright to have been lasting.</p> + +<p>Afterward, invitations came repeatedly to my father, for his grand +dinners and <i>levées</i>, from this potentate, for he <i>was</i> a prince and a +leader in those days of a society that, more than any other I have +known, requires such leadership to make its conventionalities available; +but these were not accepted, though appreciated and gratefully +acknowledged. Nor could Mr. Bainrothe, with all his influence over him +(that rare influence that a worldly and efficient man wields over a shy +and retiring one unacquainted with the detail of affairs, and dependent +upon active assistance in their management), prevail upon him to break +through the monotonous routine of his life so far as to accept any one +of them. His church, the theatre, when a British star appeared, his +hearth and home—these were my father's hobbies and resources. Travel +and society abroad he equally shrank from and abjured, or the presence +of strange guests in his household circle.</p> + +<p>"I will change all this, when I grow up, Mrs. Austin," I heard Evelyn +say, one day. "We shall have parties and pleasures then, like other +people, and, instead of masters and tedious old church humdrums, Mr. +Lodore and the like, you shall see beaux and belles dashing up to this +out-of-the-way place; and I will make papa build a ballroom, and we +shall have a band and supper once a month. You know he can afford any +thing he likes of that sort, and as for me—"</p> + +<p>"Child, it will never be," she interrupted, shaking her head gravely. +"Mr. and Mrs. Monfort" (my father was again married then) "are too much +wedded to their own ways for that, and, besides, you and Miriam will not +be ready to go out together, and the money is all hers—don't forget +that, my dear Evelyn, and <i>you</i> must go back to England to your own, and +I—"</p> + +<p>"That I will never do," she in turn interrupted haughtily. "Play second +fiddle, indeed, to mamma's grand relations, mean, and proud, and +presumptuous, I dare say, and full of scorn for me (a poor +army-captain's daughter), as they were for my father? No, I shall stay +here and shine to the best of my ability. The money is all papa's while +he lives, and he is still a young man, you know, and Miriam's turn will +come when mine is over. One at a time, you see. Good gracious! it would +seem like throwing away money, though, to dress up that little dingy +thing in pearls and laces. Ten to one but what she will marry that lame +imp next door as soon as she is grown, and endow him with the whole of +it—that 'little devil on two sticks,' and I must have my run before +then, of course." She laughed merrily at the conceit.</p> + +<p>"I hear you, Evelyn Erie," I exclaimed tragically from the balcony on +which I sat, engaged, on this occasion, in illuminating, with the most +brilliant colors my paint-box afforded, a book of engravings for the +especial benefit of George Gaston. It was his private opinion that +Titian himself never painted with more skill, or gorgeous effect, than +the youthful artist in his particular employ. "I hear you, miss, and you +ought to be ashamed of yourself to talk so behind his back, of a poor, +afflicted boy like George, too good, a thousand times too good, to marry +any one, even Cinderella herself. 'The devil on two sticks,' indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Don't preach, I pray, Miriam. You have quite a dispensation in that way +lately, I perceive. If you <i>must</i> eavesdrop, keep quiet about it now and +hereafter, I beg."</p> + +<p>"I was not eavesdropping," I screamed. "I have been painting out here +all the afternoon, and Mrs. Austin knows it, and so might you. You are +always accusing me of doing wrong and mean things that I would cut off +my"—hesitating for a comparison—"my curls rather than do. Let me +alone!"</p> + +<p>"Your curls, indeed!" and she came out of the window and stood on the +balcony beside me. "Do you call those tufts your curls?" taking one of +them disdainfully with the tips of her dainty fingers, then pulling it +sharply. "They make you look like a little water-dog, that's what they +do, and I am going to cut them off at once.—Bring me the scissors, Mrs. +Austin, and let me begin."</p> + +<p>In the struggle that ensued my paints were upset, my pallet broken, and +my book drenched with the water from the glass in which I dipped my +brushes, but, as usual, Evelyn gained the victory which her superior +strength insured from the beginning, and fled from my wrath, after +holding my hands awhile, laughingly entreating mercy.</p> + +<p>"I will kill her some day, Mrs. Austin, if she persecutes me so," I +cried, as I lay sobbing on the bed after the conflict was over. "I am +afraid of myself sometimes when she tantalizes me so dreadfully. I am +glad you held me when I got hold of the scissors; I am glad she held me +afterward. I might—I might"—I hesitated—"have stabbed her to the +heart," was in my mind, but the tragic threat faltered upon my lips.</p> + +<p>"Pray to God, Miriam Monfort, to subdue your temper," said the +well-meaning but injudicious nurse, solemnly. "Your sister is old enough +to make sport with you whenever she likes, without such returns."</p> + +<p>"I wish mamma was at home," I said, still sobbing. "She would not allow +me to be so treated; but it is always the way—as soon as she turns her +back, Evelyn besets me, and you look on and encourage her."</p> + +<p>"I do no such thing," said Mrs. Austin, sharply. "You have no business +to take up cudgels for every outsider that your sister mentions, as you +do. She is afraid to speak her mind before you, for fear of a fuss."</p> + +<p>"I hate deceit," I said, wiping my eyes; "and deceitful people, too. I +love my friends behind their backs the same as to their faces—just the +same."</p> + +<p>"What makes you mock Mr. Bainrothe then, and show how he minces at +table, and uses his rattan?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bainrothe is not my friend; besides, I said no harm of him. I don't +love him, and never will, and he knows it."</p> + +<p>"Were you rude enough to tell him so, Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"No, but he understands very well. I never mimic any one I love."</p> + +<p>"Yet you love that rough, old Mr. Gerald Stanbury, as cross as a cur. +What taste!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, from my heart I love him. He is good, he is true, he is noble; +that is what he is. He has no specks in his eyes. He does not say, 'Just +so,' whenever papa opens his lips."</p> + +<p>"O Miriam! not to like him for that!"</p> + +<p>"No; that is just why I <i>don't</i> like him. He has no mind of his own—or +maybe he has two minds. Mamma thinks so, I know."</p> + +<p>"She has told you so, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"If she had, I would not talk about it. No, she never told me so. I +found it out myself. I know what she thinks, though, of every one, just +by looking at her."</p> + +<p>"Then what does she think of me?" asked Mrs. Austin, sharply.</p> + +<p>"That you are a good, dear old nurse," I said, with a sudden revulsion +of feeling, jumping up and throwing my arms about her; "only a little, +very little, bit fonder of Evelyn than me. But that is natural. She is +so much prettier and older than I am, and takes better care of her +clothes. Besides, I am cross about dressing, I know I am; and afterward +I am always so sorry."</p> + +<p>"My Miriam always had a good heart," said Mrs. Austin, quite subdued, +and returning my embraces. "And now let me call Charity to wash and comb +and dress you before your mamma comes home. You know she always likes to +see you looking nicely. But soon you must learn to do this for yourself; +Charity will be wanted for other uses."</p> + +<p>"I know, I know," I cried, jumping up and down; "Evelyn told me all +about it yesterday," and the flush of joy mounted to my brow. "Won't we +be too happy, Mrs. Austin, when our own dear little brother or sister +comes?" And I clasped my hands across my bare neck, hugging myself in +ecstasy.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, child; there's no telling. What fingers" (holding them up +wofully to the light); "every color of the rainbow! That green stain +will be very hard to get out of your nails. How careless you are, +Miriam! But, as I was saying, there's no telling what to expect from an +unborn infant. It's wrong to speculate on such uncertainties; it's +tempting Providence, Miriam. In the first place, it may be deformed, I +shouldn't wonder—that lame boy about so much—short of one leg, at +least."</p> + +<p>"Deformed! O Mrs. Austin! how dreadful! I never thought of that." And I +began to shiver before her mysterious suggestions.</p> + +<p>"Or it may be a poor, senseless idiot like Johnny Gibson. <i>He</i> comes +here for broken victuals constantly, you know, and your mamma sees him."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Austin, don't talk so, for pity's sake," catching at her gown +wildly; "don't! you frighten me to death."</p> + +<p>"Or it may be (stand still directly, Miriam, and let met get this paint +off your ear)—or it may be, for aught we know or can help, born with a +hard, proud, wicked heart, that may show itself in bad actions—cruelty, +deceit, or even—" she hesitated, drearily.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Austin, <i>sha'n't</i> say such things about that poor, innocent little +thing," I cried out, stamping my foot impatiently, "that isn't even +born."</p> + +<p>"Well, well; there's no use rejoicing too soon, that's all I mean to +say. And why <i>you</i> should be glad, child, to have your own nose broken, +is more than I can see," with a deep and awful groan.</p> + +<p>"For pity's sake, stop! I <i>am</i> glad, I <i>will</i> be glad, there now! as +glad as I please, just because I know mamma will be glad, and papa will +be glad, and George Gaston will be glad, and because I do so adore +babies, sin or no sin; I can't help what you think; I say it again, I +<i>do</i> adore them. No, I ain't afraid of 'God's eternal anger' at all for +saying so; not a bit afraid. What does He make them so sweet for if He +does not expect us to love them dearly—His little angels on earth? +Whenever a baby passes here with its nurse, I run after it and stop it +and play with it as long as I can; and oh, I wish so often we had one of +our own here at home!" embracing myself again with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"Evelyn is right; you are a very absurd child, Miriam," she said, +smiling, in spite of her efforts to keep grave; "very silly, even."</p> + +<p>"And you are a very foolish, dear old nurse, and you <i>will</i> love our +baby, too, won't you now?" clasping her also, zealously.</p> + +<p>"Be still, child—here comes Charity. She will think you crazy to be +rumpling my cap in that way, and talking about such matters. You are +getting to be a perfect tomboy, Miriam! What would your papa say if he +could see you now, so dirty and disorderly—your papa, as neat as a pink +always?—Charity, what kept you so long to-day? Be quick and get Miss +Miriam's new cambric dress, and her blue sash, and her new, long, gray +kid gloves, and her leghorn hat, and white zephyr scarf. She is going to +drive out presently with her mamma and papa, and must look decent for +once in a while." After a pause she continued: "Miss Evelyn was dressed +an hour ago, and is ready at the gate now, with her leghorn flat on and +her parasol in her hand, I'll be bound," looking from the window. "There +comes Norman Stanbury home from school. That's the idea, is it?" and the +good nurse looked grave. "It will never do, it will never do in the +world," she said, as she glanced at them, then turned away, shaking her +head dolefully. "My child, my pretty piece of wax-work, must do better +than that comes to. Her blood must never mix with such as runs in the +veins of the Stanbury clan."</p> + +<p>About a month later the feeble wail of my little sister greeted my ear +as I entered my mamma's room one morning, in obedience to her summons, +and my heart was filled with a rapture almost as great as hers who owned +this priceless treasure.</p> + +<p>Three weeks later, very suddenly and most unexpectedly, my dear mamma +was stricken mortally as she sat, apparently quite convalescent, in her +deep chair by the cradle, smiling at and caressing her infant. Mrs. +Austin and I were alone in the room with her; papa and Evelyn had gone +out for a walk. I had just been thinking how very pretty she looked that +day in her white wrapper, with a pink ribbon at the throat, and her +little, closely-fitting lace cap, through which her rich brown hair was +distinctly visible. She had a fine oval face, clear, pallid skin, and +regular though not perfect features, and never appeared so interesting +or beautiful as now, in the joy and pride of her new maternity. Suddenly +she grew strikingly pale, gasped, stretched out her hands, fixed her +imploring eyes on me, and fell back, half fainting, in her chair.</p> + +<p>By the time we had placed her on her bed she was insensible, breathing +hard, though with a low fluttering pulse, that kept hope alive until the +doctor came. The moment he beheld her he knew that all was over; +remedies were tried in vain. She never spoke again, and, when my father +returned an hour later, a senseless mass of snow replaced the young wife +he had left, happy and hopeful.</p> + +<p>I was spared the first manifestations of his agony, in which +disappointment and the idea of being pursued by a relentless fate bore +so great a part, by my own condition, which rendered me insensible for +nearly thirty hours, to all that passed around me. It was afternoon when +I awoke, as if from a deep sleep, to find myself alone with Mrs. Austin +in my chamber.</p> + +<p>Except from a sense of lassitude I experienced no unpleasant sensations, +and I found myself marveling at the causes that could have consigned me +in health to my bed and bed-gown, to my shadowed chamber and the +supervision of my faithful nurse, when the sound of suppressed yet +numerous footsteps in the hall below met my ear, and the consciousness +that something unusual was going on took possession of and quickened my +still lethargic faculties.</p> + +<p>"What does all this mean, Mrs. Austin?" I asked at last, in a voice +feeble as an infant's, "and what are those steps below? Why am I so +weak, and what are you doing here? Answer me, I beseech you," and I +clasped my hands piteously.</p> + +<p>"Eat your panada, Miriam, and ask no questions," she said, lifting a +bowl from above a spirit-lamp on the chimney-piece, and bearing it +toward me. "Here it is, nice and hot. The doctor said you were to take +it as soon as you awoke."</p> + +<p>I received eagerly the nourishment of which I stood so greatly in need, +spiced and seasoned as it was with nutmegs and Madeira wine, and, as I +felt new strength return to me with the warmth that coursed through my +veins, the memory of all that had passed surged rapidly back, as a +suspended wave breaks on the strand, and with the shock I was restored +to perfect consciousness.</p> + +<p>"I know what it all means now," I cried. "Mamma! mamma! Let me go to my +poor mamma!" and before she could arrest my steps I flew to the head of +the stairway, dressed as I was in my white bed-gown, and was about to +descend, when Dr. Pemberton stopped my progress.</p> + +<p>"Go back, Miriam; I must see you a moment before you can go +down-stairs," he said, calmly, and with authority in his voice. "Nay, +believe me, I will not restrain you a moment longer than necessary, if +you are obedient now."</p> + +<p>"Do you promise this?" I cried, sobbing bitterly.</p> + +<p>"I do," and he led me gently back to Mrs. Austin, then examined my +pulse, my countenance carefully, inquired if I had taken nourishment, +gave me a few drops from a vial he afterward left on the table for use, +and, signifying his will to Mrs. Austin, went calmly but sorrowfully +from the room.</p> + +<p>My simple toilet was speedily made. My dress consisted of a +white-cambric gown, I remember, over which Mrs. Austin bound, with some +fantastic notion of impromptu mourning, a little scarf of black <i>crepe</i>, +passing over one shoulder and below the other, like those worn by the +pall-bearers; and, so attired, she took me by the hand and led me, dumb +with amazement and grief, through the crowd that surged up the stairs +and in the hall and parlors below, into the drawing-room, where, on its +tressels, the velvet-covered coffin stood alone and still open, its +occupant waiting in marble peace and dumb patience for the last rites of +religion and affection to sanctify her repose, ere darkness and solitude +should close around her forever.</p> + +<p>The spell that had controlled me was rent away, when I saw that sweet +and well-beloved aspect once again fixed in a stillness and composure +that I knew must be eternal, the tender eyes sealed away from mine +forever, the fine sensitive ear dull, expression obliterated! I flung +myself in a passion of grief across the coffin. I kissed the waxen face +and hands a thousand times and bathed them with scalding tears, then +stooping down to the dulled ear I whispered:</p> + +<p>"Mamma! mamma! hear me, if your soul is still in your breast, as I +believe it is; I want to say something that will comfort you: I want to +promise you to take care of your little baby all my days and hers, to +divide all I have with her—to live for her, to die for her if such +need comes—never to leave her if I can help it, or to let any one +oppress her. Do you hear me, Mamma Constance?"</p> + +<p>"What are you whispering about, Miriam?" said Mrs. Austin, drawing me +away grimly.</p> + +<p>"There, did you see her smile?" I asked, as in my childish imagination +that sweet expression, that comes with the relaxation of the muscles to +some dead faces toward the last of earth, seemed to transfigure hers as +with an angel grace. "Her soul has not gone away yet," I murmured, "she +heard me, <i>she believed me</i>," and I clasped my hands tightly and sank on +my knees beside the coffin, devoutly thanking God for this great +consolation.</p> + +<p>"Child, child, you are mad," she said, drawing me suddenly to my feet. +"Come away, Miriam, this is no place for you; I wonder at Dr. Pemberton! +That coffin ought to be closed at once, for decay has set in; and there +is no sense in supposing the spirit in the poor, crumbling body, when +such signs as these exist," and she pointed to two blue spots on the +throat and chin.</p> + +<p>I did not understand her then—I thought they were bruises received in +life—and wondered what she meant as well as I could conjecture at such +a time of bewilderment; but still I resolutely refused to leave my dear +one's side, sobbing passionately when Mr. Lodore came in to take me away +at last, in obedience to Dr. Pemberton's orders.</p> + +<p>"Come, Miriam, this will never do," he said. "Grief must have its way, +but reason must be listened to as well. You have been ill yourself, and +your friends are anxious about you; if your mamma could speak to you, +she would ask you to go to your chamber and seek repose. Nay, more, she +would tell you that, for all the thrones of the earth, she would not +come back if she could, and forsake her angel estate."</p> + +<p>"Not even to see her baby?" I asked, through my blinding tears. "O Mr. +Lodore, you must be mistaken about that; you are wrong, if you are a +preacher, for she told me lately she valued her life chiefly for its +sake; and I heard her praying one night to be spared to raise it up to +womanhood.—Mamma! mamma! you would come back to us I know, if God would +let you, but you cannot, you cannot; He is so strong, so cruel! and He +holds you fast." And I sobbed afresh, covering up my face.</p> + +<p>"Miriam, what words are these?—Mr. Monfort, I am pleased that you have +come. It is best for your little daughter to retire; she is greatly +moved and excited;" and, yielding to my father's guidance and +persuasion, I went passively from the presence of the dead, into which +came, a moment later, the hushed crowd of her church-people and our few +private friends, assembled to witness her obsequies.</p> + +<p>Evelyn Erie accompanied my father to the grave as one of the chief +mourners, and at my entreaty Mrs. Austin laid my little sister on the +bed by my side, and I was soothed and strengthened by the sight of her +baby loveliness as nothing else could have soothed and strengthened me.</p> + +<p>Then, solemnly and in my own heart, I renewed the promise I had made the +dead, and as far as in me lay have I kept it, Mabel, through thy life +and mine!</p> + +<p>I roused from an uneasy sleep an hour later, to find George Gaston at my +side.</p> + +<p>"I have brought you this, Miriam," he said, "because I thought it might +help you to bear up. It is a little book my mother loved; perhaps you +can read it and understand it when you are older even if you cannot now. +See, there is a cross on the back, and such a pretty picture of Jesus in +the front. It is for you to <i>keep</i> forever, Miriam. It is called Keble's +'Christian Year.'"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, George," and I kissed him, murmuring, "But I do not think I +shall ever read any more," tearfully.</p> + +<p>He, too, begged to see the baby for all recompense—his darling as well +as mine thenceforth; and I recall to this hour the lovely face of the +boy, with all his clustering, nut-brown curls damp with the clammy +perspiration incident to his debility, bending above the tiny infant as +it lay in sweet repose, with words of pity and tenderness, and tearful, +steadfast eyes that seemed filled with almost angelic solicitude and +solemn blessing.</p> + +<p>Two guardians of ten years old then clasped hands above its downy head, +and in childish earnestness vowed to one another to protect, to cherish, +to defend it as long as life was spared to either. Hannibal was not +older than we were when he swore his famous oath at Carthage, kneeling +at the feet of Hamilcar before the altar, to hate the Romans. How was +our oath of love less solemn or impressive than his of hatred?—pledged +as it was, too, in the presence of an angel too lately freed from +earth's bondage not to hover still around her prison-house and above the +sleeping cherub she left so lately!</p> + +<p>Such resolutions, however carried out, react on the character that +conceives them. I felt from that time strengthened, uplifted, calmed, as +I had never felt before. I learned the precious secret of patience in +watching over that baby head, and for its sake grew forbearing to all +around; toward Evelyn, even, whose taunts were so hard to bear, so +unendurable on occasions.</p> + +<p>"There is a great change in Miriam," she said one day to Norman +Stanbury. "I believe she is getting religion, or perhaps she and George +Gaston are training themselves to go forth as married missionaries, +after a while, to the heathen. They are studying parental responsibility +already, one at the head and the other at the foot of the baby's +cradle-carriage, but I am afraid it will be but a <i>lame</i> concern, after +all."</p> + +<p>We both heard this cruel speech and the laugh that succeeded it, in +passing by, as it was intended we should do, probably—heard it in +silence, and perhaps it may be said in dignity, not even a remark being +interchanged between us concerning it; but I saw George Gaston flush to +the roots of his hair.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later we were ourselves laughing merrily over the baby's +ineffectual efforts to catch a bunch of scarlet roses which George +dangled above her head, and, altogether forgetful of Evelyn's sneer, +bumped our heads together in trying to kiss her.</p> + +<p>In truth, my superb sense of womanhood lifted me quite above all +frivolous suggestions; thenceforth George seemed to me physically almost +as much of a baby as Mabel, and was nearly as dependent on my aid. In +his sudden fits of exhaustion and agony of such uncertain recurrence as +to render it dangerous for him to venture forth alone, he always turned +with confidence to my supporting and guiding hand.</p> + +<p>I taught him his lessons in the intervals of my own studies, which he +recited when he could to a private teacher, the same who gave me +lessons.</p> + +<p>Evelyn preferred a public school, and was sent, at her own request, to +a fashionable establishment in the city attended by the <i>élite</i> alone, +as the enormous prices charged for tuition indicated, as a day-boarder. +There she became proficient in mere mechanical music—her ear being a +poor one naturally—and learned to speak two languages, dance to +perfection, and conduct herself like a high-bred woman of fashion on all +occasions and in all emergencies—each and all necessities for a belle, +which, it may be remembered, she had aspired to be, and announced her +intention of becoming.</p> + +<p>The fame of my father's wealth, her own beauty, tact, and grace, and +elegant attire, rendered her conspicuous among her school-mates, and +from among these she selected as friends such as appeared to her most +desirable as bearing on her future plans of life. So that already Evelyn +had made for herself a sphere outside and beyond any thing known in +"Monfort Hall" or its vicinity.</p> + +<p>My father, who, like all shy persons, admired cool self-possession and +the leading hand in others, looked on with quiet approbation and some +diversion at these proceedings. He gave her the use of his equipage, his +house, his grounds, reserving to himself only intact the refuge of his +library, from which ark of safety he surveyed at leisure, with quiet, +curious, and amused scrutiny, the gay young forms that on holiday +occasions glided through his garden and conservatory, and filled his +drawing-room and halls with laughter and revelry.</p> + +<p>On such occasions I was permitted, on certain conditions, to appear as a +spectator. One of the most imperative of these was, that I was never to +reveal to any one that Evelyn was not my own half-sister.</p> + +<p>"You are not called upon to tell a story, Miriam, only to give them no +satisfaction. You see they might as well think part of all this wealth, +which came from your mother, is mine. It will in no way affect the +reality—only their demeanor—for they every one worship money."</p> + +<p>"I would not care for such girls, sister Evelyn, nor what they thought," +I rejoined. "Besides, are you not an earl's granddaughter; why not boast +of that instead, which would be the truth?"</p> + +<p>"An earl's fiddlestick! What do you suppose American girls would care +for that? Nor would they believe it, even, unless I had diamonds and +coronet and every thing to match. Your mother had diamonds, I know, but +mine had not. By-the-by, where are they, Miriam? I have never seen +them."</p> + +<p>"I do not know, Evelyn," I replied, gravely. "I have never thought about +them until now, I am so sorry your heart is set upon such things. You +know what Mamma Constance used to tell us."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I remember she croaked continually, as all delicate, doomed +people do, I believe. It was well enough in her case, as she <i>had</i> to +die; but, as for me—look at me, Miriam Monfort! Do I look like death? +No; victory, rather!" and she straightened her elastic form exultingly. +"And you, too, little one, are growing up strong and tall and +better-looking than you used to be," she continued, patting my cheek +carelessly. "The Jewish gaberdine is gradually dropping off; I mean the +dinginess of your early complexion. By the time I have had my successful +career, and am settled in life, yours will begin. Help me now, and I +will help you then."</p> + +<p>"You are only a school-girl," I said, sententiously. "You had better be +thinking of your lessons, and let beaux and diamonds alone. I would be +ashamed to keep a key to my exercises and sums, as you do. I would +blush in the dark to do such a thing."</p> + +<p>"I am not preparing myself for a governess, that I should make a point +of honor of such things, little pragmatical prig that you are; nor are +you, that I know of. You will always have plenty of money. 'Rich as a +Jew' is a proverb, you know, all the world over."</p> + +<p>The taunt had long since lost its sting; so I replied, meekly:</p> + +<p>"We none of us know what may happen. I should like to be able to support +myself and Mabel, if the worst came. Old Mr. Stanbury says all property +is uncertain nowadays, especially in this country."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't repeat what that old croaking vulgarian and general leveller +and democrat says, to me! A democrat is my aversion, anyhow. I wonder +papa, can tolerate that coarse old Jackson man in his sight. 'Adams and +the Federal cause forever,' say I; and all aristocratic people are on +that side. I never enjoyed any thing so much as our illumination when +Mr. Clay gave his casting vote, and carried Congress. The Stanbury house +was as dark as a grave that night; but Norman was in our interest, and I +made him halloo 'Hurrah for Adams!' That was a triumph, at all events. +It nearly killed the old gentleman, though."</p> + +<p>"If I were a man, <i>I</i>, too, would vote for General Jackson," I +said defiantly. "He was such a brave soldier; he could defend our +country if it was attacked again. Besides, I like his face better than +old moon-faced Adams; and I despise Norman for his time-serving."</p> + +<p>"Miriam, I shall tell papa if you utter such sentiments again; you know +how devoted he is to the Federal party, and you ought to be ashamed of +yourself."</p> + +<p>"That is just because Mr. Bainrothe over-persuaded him. He used to +admire General Jackson. I heard him say once, myself, he would be the +people's choice, next time."</p> + +<p>"I thought you accused Mr. Bainrothe of toadying papa. Where, now, is +your boasted consistency?"</p> + +<p>"Evelyn, you know very well that is the way to rule and toady papa. +Yield to him apparently, and he will let you lead him and have your own +way pretty much. You have found that out long ago, Evelyn." And I looked +at her sharply, I confess. She colored, but did not reply. "There is +more," I said. "A girl who would be ashamed of her own mother, and +afraid to acknowledge her poverty, would not scruple to do this. I +believe you are almost as great a humbug at heart as Mr. Bainrothe +himself," and I smiled scornfully. "That is what <i>some</i> people call +him."</p> + +<p>She turned on me with cold, white eyes and quivering lips; she shook me +by the shoulder until my teeth chattered and my hair tossed up and down +like a pony's mane blown by the winds, with her long, nervous fingers.</p> + +<p>"Inform on me if you dare," she said, "or utter such an opinion to papa, +and I will make you and your baby both suffer for it, and that lame +hop-toad too, who follows you everywhere like your shadow! Moreover, if +you do breathe a syllable of this slander, I shall tell Mr. Bainrothe +your opinion of him, and make <i>him</i> your enemy. And mark me, Miriam +Monfort, precious Hebrew imp that you are, you could not have a direr +one, not even if you searched your old Jewish Bible through and through +for a parallel, or called up Satan himself. I shall tell papa, too, that +you are a story-teller, so that he will never again believe one word +that you say, miss!"</p> + +<p>"You could not convince him of that," I said, disengaging myself from +her grasp, "if you were to try, for I have honest eyes in my head, not +speckled like a toad's back, nor turning white with rage like a +tree-frog laid on a window-sill; but, if you ever dare to lay your hand +on me again, Evelyn Erle, I will tell papa <i>every thing</i>—there, now! +This is the last time, remember."</p> + +<p>"I did not hurt you, and you know it, Miriam; I only shook you to settle +your brains," and she laughed a ghastly laugh, "and to make you a little +bit afraid of me."</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid of you," I said, "that is one comfort; and you can +never make me so again; and I am not a mischief-maker, that is another; +so rest in peace. <i>Pass</i> for my sister if you choose, and are proud of +the title; I shall not say yes or no, but of this be certain, you are no +sister of mine, though I call you such, either in heart or blood. I do +not love you, Evelyn Erle; and, if I were not afraid of the anger of God +and my own heart, I would <i>let</i> myself hate you, and strike you. But I +always try and remember what mamma said, and what Mr. Lodore tells us +every Sunday. Yet I find it hard."</p> + +<p>"Little hypocrite! little Jew!" burst from her angry lips, and she left +the room in a whirl of rage, not forgetting, however, to write me a very +smooth note before she went to school next morning, which was, with her +usual tact, slipped under my pillow before I awoke; and, after that, all +was outward peace between us for a season.</p> + +<p>Evelyn was about sixteen when this occurred, I nearly twelve. The next +year she left school and made her <i>début</i> in society, and, through her +machinations, no doubt, I was sent away to a distant boarding-school for +two years, coming home only at holiday intervals thereafter to my +dearest baby, my home, my parent, and narrow circle of friends, and +finding Miss Erle more and more in possession of my father's confidence, +even to the arrangement of his papers and participation in the knowledge +of his business transactions, and entirely installed as the head of the +house, which post she maintained ever afterward indomitably.</p> + +<p>Singularly enough, however, Mr. Bainrothe seemed secretly to prefer me +at this period, however much he openly inclined to her, and he lost no +occasion of privately speaking to me in rapturous terms (such as I never +heard him employ in the presence of Evelyn and my father) of his only +son, then absent in Germany engaged in the prosecution of his studies, +but to return home, he told me, to remain, as soon as he had completed +his majority.</p> + +<p>It was only through our knowledge of his son's age, and his admissions +as to the time of his own early marriage, that we arrived at any +estimate of Mr. Bainrothe's years; for, as I have said, Time, in his +case, had omitted what he so rarely forgets to imprint—his sign manual +on his exterior.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="I_CHAPTER_III"></a><h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The school to which I was sent was half a day's journey from the city of +our residence, situated in a small but ancient town of Revolutionary +notoriety. The river, very wide at that point, was shaded by +willow-trees to some extent along its banks, immediately in front of the +Academy of St. Mark's, and beyond it to a considerable distance on +either hand. The town itself was an old-fashioned, primitive village +rather than burgh, quaintly built, and little adorned by modern taste or +improvement; but the air was fine and elastic, the water +unexceptionable, and bathing and boating were among our privileged +amusements. Among other less useful accomplishments, I there acquired +that of swimming expertly; and, as a place of exile, this quaint town +answered as well as any other for the intended purpose.</p> + +<p>For, notwithstanding my father's assurances that Dr. Pemberton had +recommended change of air—to some degree true, of course—and that he +himself believed a public course of study would exhaust me less than my +solitary lessons, to which I gave such undivided attention, and +notwithstanding Evelyn's professions of regret at the necessity of +parting with me, and Mrs. Austin's belief that the "baby was killing me +by inches," since she took it into her head to sleep with no one else, +and to play half the night, and to stay with me all day besides, I felt +myself "ostracized."</p> + +<p>The whole matter was so sudden that I scarcely knew what to make of it. +Mr. Bainrothe alone let in a little light upon the subject by one +remark, unintentionally, no doubt:</p> + +<p>"The fact is, Miriam, you are getting too much wound up with that +Stanbury family, and you would be perfectly entangled there in another +year. The idea of putting the whole hardship of George Gaston's +education on your shoulders was worthy of diplomatic brains, and +something I should scarcely have suspected that calm, quiet little woman +to have been capable of conceiving. There is an old, worn-out plantation +in the Gaston family, that your money would set going again, no doubt, +with accelerated velocity. Did you never suspect anything of that sort?" +he asked, carelessly.</p> + +<p>"Never; nor did I suppose any one else was stupid or wicked enough to +entertain such an idea. I, being tolerably acute, <i>knew</i> better, +fortunately."</p> + +<p>"My dear little girl, you are entirely too chivalrous and confiding +where your feelings are engaged. What if I were to assure that this plan +had been agitated?"</p> + +<p>"I should think you had been deceived, or that you were deceiving me, +one or the other. I should not <i>believe</i> you, that would be all. You +understand me now, Mr. Bainrothe; there are no purer people than the +Stanburys—I wish every one was half as good and true."</p> + +<p>"Old Gerald at the head of them, I suppose?" with a sneer and a +kaleidoscopic glance.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Gerald Stanbury at the head of them," I reiterated firmly, adding: +"These are friends of mine, Mr. Bainrothe; it hurts and offends me to +hear them lightly discussed. If I am sent away from home to break off my +affection for them, the measure is a vain one, for I shall returned +unchanged."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but with enlarged views, I trust, Miriam," he rejoined, +pertinaciously. "See how Evelyn was improved by her two years at school; +besides, how would you ever increase your circle of acquaintances here, +studying alone, or even with your shy disposition, at a day-school?"</p> + +<p>"I am sent from home, then, to make acquaintances it seems, and to +prepare for my <i>début</i> into society? Very well, I shall not forget that; +but pray, what particular advantage in this respect does a +country-school present?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, the very first people send their daughters to St. Mark's. If I were +training a wife for my son, I should educate her there. What higher +eulogium could I bestow, or"—dropping his voice—"what higher +compliment pay you, Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"If he were a king's son, you could not speak more confidently," I +rejoined, with inexcusable rudeness. "Remember, too, you are <i>not</i> +training a wife for your prince in disguise." But I was annoyed and +irritated by his patronizing manner, and the suspicion that took +possession of me from that time, that he had aided Evelyn in this +conspiracy against my peace for selfish views.</p> + +<p>He laughed carelessly and turned away, but I saw triumph in his +variegated eye; yet was I powerless to resent it.</p> + +<p>"I am leaving my poor papa bound hand and foot," I thought, "in +designing hands, but I cannot help it. He has chosen for himself, I will +not entreat his affection, his confidence, misplaced as they surely are. +I <i>cannot</i> do this if I would; something stronger than myself binds me +to silence. But O papa, papa! if you only knew how I loved you, you +would not suffer these strangers to take my place, or banish your poor +Miriam so cruelly!"</p> + +<p>"Don't let Mabel forget me," were the last words I spoke to Mrs. Austin, +as with a bursting heart I turned from the lovely child I had made +perhaps too much an idol; "and George, let her see George Gaston every +day; it will be a comfort to both." So, choking, I went my way.</p> + +<p>I bade Evelyn "good-by" gayly, Mr. Bainrothe superciliously, my father +bitterly, for I felt his ingratitude to my heart's core; and, under dear +old Mr. Stanbury's escort, went to the steamboat, there to find one of +the lady principals of the academy ready to take charge of me on our +brief voyage. It was not in my nature to cherish depression or to make +complaints and sudden confidences, and we chatted very cheerfully all +the way up the river on indifferent subjects chiefly; sharing fruit and +flowers, and general observations and opinions, so that I felt quite +inspirited on my arrival, and made, I have reason to believe, no +unfavorable impression.</p> + +<p>My school-girl experiences I shall not record here. They were pleasant +and profitable on the whole, and I earned the esteem of my teachers, by +my zeal and diligence in my studies, and made some few valued friends +more or less permanent, but none so dear as those I left behind.</p> + +<p>Laura Stanbury, quiet and uninteresting as she seemed to many, had a +hold on my heart that no newer acquaintance could boast, and for dear +George Gaston, where was there another like him? I have known no one so +gifted, so spiritual, so simply affectionate, as this child of genius +and physical misfortune, whose short but brilliant career is engraven on +the annals of his country, I well believe, indelibly.</p> + +<p>When I was fifteen years old, I was recalled suddenly and in the middle +of a busy session to my home, by the severe and almost fatal illness of +my father. He rallied, however, soon after my return, and I had the +inexpressible satisfaction of hearing Dr. Pemberton, our good and +skillful family physician, pronounce him out of danger a week later, but +he would suffer me to go from him no more. The voice of Nature asserted +her claim at last, and, feeling within himself that indescribable +failure of vitality in which no one is ever deceived, and which can +never be explained to or wholly understood by another, he desired me to +remain with him through the remainder of a life which he foresaw would +not be long.</p> + +<p>It was in vain that Dr. Pemberton tried to rally him on the score of his +old hypochondriacal tendencies, or that Evelyn quietly remarked: "I am +sure, papa, I never saw you looking better! It is a pity to interrupt +dear Miriam now in the full tide of her studies. I am sure that <i>I</i> am +willing to devote every moment of my time to you if needful;" or that +Mrs. Austin added: "Miriam is so well, and growing so fast, that I am +afraid to see her take on care again, for fear of a check; and now that +Mabel is partly weaned from her they are both happy to be separated;" or +that Mr. Bainrothe carelessly interpolated: "Let the child go back, my +dear Monfort, or you will spoil her again among you. She is developing +splendidly at St. Mark's, and you have twenty good years before you yet, +with your unbroken English constitution."</p> + +<p>Not even the joy manifested by George Gaston and Mrs. and Miss +Stanbury, or bluff old Mr. Gerald, at the good news of my return, could +shake his resolution.</p> + +<p>"Miriam shall leave me no more while life is mine," he said, "be it long +or short. When she marries, I will surrender every thing I possess, save +a stipend, into her hands, and Evelyn and Mabel and I to some extent +will be her pensioners thereafter. Until that time, matters will stand +as they do now."</p> + +<p>"Folly, folly, Colonel Monfort! You talk like a dotard of eighty; you, a +superb-looking man yet, younger than I am, no doubt; young enough to +marry again, if the fancy took you, and head a second family."</p> + +<p>"Why not say a third?" asked my father, sadly. "Don't you know, +Bainrothe, I am a fatal upas-tree to the wives of my bosom? See how it +has been already."</p> + +<p>"Better luck next time. Now, there is the Widow Stanbury, willing and +waiting, you know, and a dozen others."</p> + +<p>I turned a flashing eye upon him that silenced him.</p> + +<p>"You know better than that," I said, in suppressed tones, hoarse with +anger. "Better let that subject rest hereafter, unless, indeed, your +object is feud with me. You shall not slander my friends with impunity, +nor must you come any longer between me and them and my father."</p> + +<p>I spoke, for his ear alone, and waited for no reply. I understood his +game by this time, as he did mine.</p> + +<p>"His son, indeed!" I murmured, with a scornful lip, as I found myself +alone. "I would cut off my right hand before I would give it to a +Bainrothe," and I scoffed at him bitterly in the depths of my resentful +Judaic heart.</p> + +<p>About this time I passed through a painful trial. It was autumn, and +early fires of wood had been kindled in the chambers; more, so far, for +the sake of cheerfulness than warmth. Mabel was playing on the hearth of +her nursery preparatory to going to bed, and I was in the adjoining +room, my own chamber, making an evening toilet, for Evelyn expected a +party of young visitors that night, and my presence had been requested.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Austin, it seemed, had left the room for one moment, when a cry +from Mabel brought me to her side. She had fanned the fire with her +little cambric night-dress, and was already in a blaze. I caught Mrs. +Austin's heavy shawl from the bed, and promptly extinguished the flames, +but not without receiving serious injury myself. The child, with the +exception of a slight but painful burn on her ankle, was unhurt, but my +left arm and shoulder and bosom were fearfully burned, and for some days +my life hung on a thread.</p> + +<p>Months passed before I was able to leave my own chamber, and the blow to +my health was so severe as to induce a return of those lethargic attacks +from which I had been entirely free for the last two years. It is true +they were brief in duration compared to those of old, but that they +should exist at all was a cause of anxiety and disquietude both to my +father and physician.</p> + +<p>By the first of March, however, I was again in glowing health, and no +trace remained, except those carefully-concealed scars on my shoulder, +of my fearful injury.</p> + +<p>Soon after this accident had occurred, two circumstances of interest had +taken place in our household and vicinity. One of these was the return +of Claude Bainrothe from abroad, and the other the rather mysterious +visit of a gentleman, young and handsome, but poorly clad, who had +inquired for my step-mother, Mrs. Constance Monfort, and on hearing, to +his surprise and grief, apparently, that she was dead, had gone away +again without requesting an interview with any other member of the +family.</p> + +<p>He had met Evelyn at the door just as she was about to step into the +carriage, dressed for visiting, and had said to her, merely (as she +asserted), as he turned away, evidently in sorrow:</p> + +<p>"I am the brother of Mrs. Monfort, once Constance Glen—now, as you tell +me, no more. What children did she leave?"</p> + +<p>"One only—a daughter," was Evelyn's reply. "Not visible to-day, +however, since she was severely burned a few days since, and is still +confined to her bed; not dangerously ill, though."</p> + +<p>"I passed on then, as quickly as I could," said Evelyn, "for I saw no +end to questioning, and had an appointment to keep. I said, however, +civilly, 'Suppose you call another time, when papa is disengaged. To-day +he could not possibly receive you,' pausing on the steps for a reply. +This was of course all that was required of me, but he merely lifted his +hat with a cool 'Thank you, Miss Monfort,' and went his way silently. He +evidently mistook me for you, Miriam, and I did not undeceive him. My +greatest oversight was in forgetting to ask for his card; but his name +was Glen, of course, as hers was, so it would have been a mere form."</p> + +<p>"The whole transaction seems to have been inconsiderate on your part, +Evelyn," I remarked, as mildly as I could. "Mamma's brother! Oh, what +would I not have given to have seen him! Did he never return, and where +is he now?"</p> + +<p>"No, never that I know of, and he has disappeared. He walked by here a +few days later, Franklin says, when he was standing at the door with +papa's tilbury, still very poorly dressed, but neither stopped nor +spoke. You could not have seen him in your condition, at any rate, +Miriam, so you need not look so vexed; and I had no idea of having papa +annoyed so soon after his severe attack. Besides, I want no such claims +established over Mabel. She is ours, and need desire no other relations. +The next thing would have been an application for money, or board and +lodging, or some such thing, no doubt."</p> + +<p>"How old did he seem to be, Evelyn?" I asked, conquering a qualm of +feeling at these words, and inexpressibly interested in her relation.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I can't tell, Miriam; about twenty-five or six, I suppose; the +usual age of all such bores. You know mamma was seven or eight and +twenty when she died, and she said he was much younger than herself, you +may remember."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I recollect perfectly. Did he resemble mamma, Evelyn? Was he +tall or short, fair or dark? Had he her lovely eyes? Do tell me about +him."</p> + +<p>"None of these things. A sort of medium man; not at all like mamma, +however, as far as I could see on such brief scrutiny, and as well as I +remember; with fine eyes, however. Not as good-looking as Claude +Bainrothe, by any means. Commonplace, very, with a seedy coat. +By-the-way, Miriam, <i>he</i> will be back next week, I believe, and then you +will see this phenomenon. You know Mr. Bainrothe and papa design you for +one another."</p> + +<p>"Papa, indeed! I suppose you mean Claude Bainrothe," and I laughed +disdainfully, I fear. "Nay, it is you rather, Evelyn, who have +captivated this piece of perfection, as far as I can learn. At least, +this is the report that—" I hesitated—colored.</p> + +<p>"Finish your sentence, Miriam. The report that your faithful spies, +Laura Stanbury and George Gaston, have brought to you in your solitude. +They are very observing, truly," she pursued. "Creatures that never +penetrate beneath the surface, though. Self-deluders, I fancy, however, +rather than story-tellers."</p> + +<p>"Do you pretend to deny it, Evelyn? Now, look me in the eyes and say +'No' if you dare," and I grasped her slender wrists playfully. She +opened her large, blue eyes and fixed them full on mine, responsively.</p> + +<p>"<i>No</i>! Now you have the unmitigated truth. Ah, Miriam, I have no wish to +interfere with you," and she leaned forward and kissed my cheek +tenderly, disengaging her hands as she did so. Her manner had so changed +to me of late that she was growing rapidly into my affections, and I +returned her embrace cordially.</p> + +<p>In the next moment we were laughing merrily together over the ridiculous +schemes of the elder Bainrothe, so transparent that every one understood +them perfectly, motive and all, and which my father winked at evidently, +rather than favored or encouraged, as our charlatan thought he +did—"Cagliostro," as we habitually called him.</p> + +<p>"The fact is, prophetess, the person in question would not suit you at +all, with your grand ways and notions and prospects. I have fathomed his +depth pretty successfully, and I find him full of shoals and shallows. +Pretty well for a flirtation, though, and to keep one's hand in, but +unavailable any further."</p> + +<p>"Having brought him to his knees, you are perfectly willing to pass him +over to me as a bond-slave. Is that the idea, Evelyn?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly, Miriam; you are always so penetrating! But don't tell, for the +world. Old Bainrothe would never forgive me; and, as I once before told +you in one of my savage moods, his enmity is dire—satanic!"</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid of Cagliostro, or his animosity," I answered; "never +was, Evelyn, as you know. The best way to disarm him is to confront him +boldly. He is like a lion in that alone. I wish, though, he would give +me a little of his elixir of life, for dear papa; he has never looked +himself since that attack, though better, certainly,—oh, decidedly +better, of course, than I dared to hope at one time ever to see him +again. Yet I am very anxious."</p> + +<p>"Papa is well enough, Miriam; you only imagine these things. At fifty, +you know, most men begin to break a little; then they rally again and +look almost as well as ever in a few years, up to sixty or seventy. Look +at Mr. Lodore! He looked older when we first knew him than he does now; +and so did Dr. Pemberton."</p> + +<p>"That is because they have both filled out and grown more florid and +healthy; but papa is withering away, Evelyn; shrinking day by day—his +very step has changed recently. Oh, I hope, I hope I may be deceived!" +And I covered my face with my hands, praying aloud, as I did sometimes +irresistibly when greatly excited. "God grant, God grant us his precious +life!" I murmured. "Spare him to his children!"</p> + +<p>"Amen!" said Evelyn Erle, solemnly.</p> + +<p>A few evenings after this conversation I went to see and hear the opera +of "Masaniello," then all the rage, and at the zenith of its popularity, +with Mrs. Stanbury, Laura, and George Gaston—Norman had been recently +placed in the navy and he was absent now, and Mr. Gerald Stanbury +obstinately refused to accompany us to that "monkey-and-parrot show," as +he deliberately dubbed the Italian opera.</p> + +<p>"When men and women who are in love or grief, or who are telling each +other the news, or secrets, stop to set their words to music, and roar +and howl in each other's ears, the world will be mad, and the opera +natural," he said. "I will not lend my countenance before them to such a +villainous travesty."</p> + +<p>As "Masaniello" had nearly had its run, and Evelyn was disinclined to +see it again, having attended during the winter about twenty +representations of this great musical spectacle, I was fain to go with +our neighbors and their very youthful escort, or forego my opera.</p> + +<p>As we entered the crowded lobby, Laura and I walked together behind +George Gaston and Mrs. Stanbury, dropping later into Indian file as the +crowd increased, in which order I was the last. I wore a rich India +shawl, that had been my mother's, caught by a cameo clasp across the +bosom. Suddenly I felt the pin wrenched away and the shawl torn from my +shoulders. In another moment there was a cry—a scuffle—a fall—and a +prostrate form was borne away between two policemen, while a gentleman, +with his cravat hanging loose and his hair in wild confusion, came +toward me eagerly, extending the shawl and clasp.</p> + +<p>"These are yours, I believe, young lady," he remarked, breathlessly, +throwing the shawl about my shoulders as he spoke, and laying the broken +clasp in my hand. "I am happy to restore them to you."</p> + +<p>The whole transaction had been so sudden and so public, that there had +been neither time nor room for trepidation on my part. My own party, +pressing steadily on, had not yet missed me, so that, even in that +moment of excitement, I surveyed my champion with an eye capable of +future recognition.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," I said. "I hope you are not hurt in my service?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; not at all—that is, very slightly, indeed. Pass on, I will +attend you safely to your seat," and, obeying the wave of his hand, I +followed the direction of Mrs. Stanbury's white plume as observingly as +did the followers of Henry of Navarre, without turning again until I +reached the box she had entered. I was shocked then, as I bowed my +thanks, at the ghastly whiteness and expression of my escort's face, but +he vanished too quickly to permit of inquiry or remark at that season.</p> + +<p>I had still time before the curtain rose to relate my adventure, which +brought the blood hotly to George Gaston's brow as he listened to it.</p> + +<p>"There it is!" he muttered. "It is all very well with me in peaceful +times, but, when it comes to battle, a poor, lame wretch is of little +account. I might as well be a woman;" and the tears flowed down his +quivering cheeks. "It was shameful, disgraceful, that any other man +should have defended you, Miriam," he added, in a broken voice, +clinching his hands, "than I, your escort."</p> + +<p>"You did not even see the affair, George," I remonstrated. "Had you been +as strong as Samson, and I know you are just as brave, you could not +have helped me, for there I was lagging away behind, through my own +fault, and how could you, in front, between your aunt and Laura, +possibly know what danger was in store for me? Now, I shall feel +provoked if you show so much morbid feeling; besides, reflect, you are +but a boy, dear. George. No youth of your age is ever very strong."</p> + +<p>"A boy! and what are you, Miriam Monfort, that you taunt me with youth! +a woman, I suppose—a heroine!" with bitter sarcasm in his voice and +eye, for the first time in his life so directed to me. I gazed at him +in mute surprise.</p> + +<p>"My dear George, you are very unreasonable, indeed," said Mrs. Stanbury. +"What has Miriam done to deserve such a taunt? I never knew you to +behave in such an uncourteous way before."</p> + +<p>"You must be crazy, George Gaston," added Laura Stanbury, sharply. +"Don't you know you are attracting attention toward our box. Be still +directly!"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, it is only the magnificent Miss Monfort that every one is +staring at," he sneered. "The grown-up lady, the heroine, the heiress, +who lingers behind in the lobby, in order to get up little melodramas of +her own at the opera where such things are admissible, at the expense of +her lame escort!"</p> + +<p>I turned to him calmly; I had not spoken before. "George," I said, "if +you say another word I shall go home alone, or burst into tears on the +spot, and disgrace myself and you, one or the other. I cannot bear +another word like this. I warn you, George Gaston!"</p> + +<p>"Dear Miriam, forgive me; I am a fool I know," he said, as soon as he +could recover himself. "Lend me your handkerchief, Laura, mine has +mysteriously disappeared. There—Richard's himself again! (Sorra to +him!) He ought to have a bullet through his head for his pains" (<i>sotto +voce</i>).</p> + +<p>This stroke of bathos brought about good-humor again, and soon our whole +attention was absorbed in that magical music which to this hour +electrifies me more than that of any other opera excepting "Norma." "Bad +taste this," connoisseurs will say; but the perfection of human +enjoyment is to pursue one's own tastes independently of Mrs. Grundy, +whether musical, or literary, or artistic, according to my mode of +thinking. In all the pauses of the opera, however, I saw that handsome +and agitated face, that had last caught my eye at the box-door, rise +before me like a spell; and anxiety for the safety of my strange +champion—some curiosity too, mingled therewith, I do not deny, to know +his name and lineage—beset me during the whole of a sleepless night and +the dreaming day that succeeded it.</p> + +<p>We were sitting around a cheerful spring fire in the front parlor, our +ordinary sitting-room, opening as this did into the dining-room beyond +on one hand, and the wide intersecting hall of entrance on the other, on +the opposite side of which lay the long, double-chimneyed drawing-room, +less cheerful than our smaller assembly-room by half, and therefore less +often used (there, you have our whole first-floor arrangement now, my +reader, I believe, and I must begin over again, to catch the clew of my +long sentence). We were sitting, then, around the cheerful fire in the +parlor in question, when Morton, my father's "own man," announced "Mr. +Bainrothe and son," and a moment afterward the two gentlemen so heralded +entered the room together. With one you are already somewhat familiar, +reader mine, as a gentlemanly, handsome man, with deliberate movements +and confident address. You have seen such men in cities frequently; but +the word <i>distingué</i>, so often too hastily bestowed, was the chief +characteristic of the appearance of his younger companion.</p> + +<p>Tall, slender, graceful, strong—for strength alone bestows such easy +perfection of movement, such equipoise of step as belonged to him—with +a fine, clear-cut face and well-shaped head, nobly placed on his +straight, square shoulders—wide for a man so slight—dark eyed, dark +haired, with a mouth somewhat concealed by a long silken mustache, then +an unusual coxcombry in our republic, yet revealing in glimpses superb +teeth and the curve of accurately-cut lips, Claude Bainrothe stood +before me, a young Apollo.</p> + +<p>"I have brought my son here to-night, expressly to introduce him to you, +Miriam, of whom he has heard so much."</p> + +<p>He bowed low and silently, then tossed his curled head suddenly back +again.</p> + +<p>"We have met before, I believe, Mr. Bainrothe," I observed, when his eye +rose to meet mine. "You were good enough to restore me my shawl and +clasp last night at the opera, if I am not strangely mistaken."</p> + +<p>"Ah! were you that lady?" he asked, with a slight yet somewhat +embarrassed laugh. "Forgive me, if in the confusion of the moment I +failed to remark your appearance. I only knew an outrage had been +committed, and naturally sought to repair it."</p> + +<p>"Now, that was really romantic," said Evelyn, who had caught the idea. +"Miriam related her adventure, but was sorely puzzled to know to whom +she was indebted for such chivalrous aid."</p> + +<p>"I am glad to have been of service to Miss Monfort," he rejoined, +deferentially, "but I merely obeyed an impulse strong with me. I should +have been wanting to myself to have done otherwise than defend a +helpless woman."</p> + +<p>"There could not have been a more favorable opening to your +acquaintance, certainly," observed Evelyn significantly; then, turning +away and crossing the apartment, she applied herself to the +entertainment of the elder Mr. Bainrothe, "Mr. Basil," as we called him +after his son came, by way of distinction between the two, since the +word "old" seemed invidious in his case, and we characterized them as we +would have done two brothers.</p> + +<p>Indeed, in manner, in bearing, in something of quiet repose entirely +wanting in the father, and which usually seems the accompaniment of age +or experience, the son seemed the elder man of the two. I had yet to +learn that there is an experience so perfect and subtle that it assumes +the air of ignorance, and triumphs in its simplicity over inferior craft +itself.</p> + +<p>When the mind has worked out the problems of life to its own +satisfaction, like the school-boy who has proved his sums, it wipes the +slate clean again and sets down the bare result—the laborious process +it effaces. All is simplified.</p> + +<p>"I was fearful that you had been hurt last night, Mr. Bainrothe," I +hazarded, "from the expression of your face as I caught it at the +box-door. I am glad to see you well this evening."</p> + +<p>"I <i>was</i> hurt," he said, "to be frank with you. The scoundrel gave me a +severe blow on the chest, which brought a little blood to my lips, and +for the time I suffered. Had it not been for the faintness under which I +was laboring I could not have failed to identify you. But you are +generous enough to forgive this oversight I am convinced."</p> + +<p>"Oh, surely! it was most natural under the circumstances. I have a habit +of fixing faces at a glance that is rather uncommon, I believe. I never +forget any one I have seen even for a moment, or where I have seen them, +or even a name I have heard."</p> + +<p>"A royal gift truly, one of the secrets of popularity, I believe. It is +not so with me usually, though when my eye once drinks in a face" (and +he looked steadily at mine while he spoke those words slowly, as if +wrapped in contemplation), "it never departs again. 'A thing of beauty +is a joy forever,' you know, Miss Monfort." He sighed slightly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that line has passed into an axiom, the only sensible one, I +believe, by-the-by, that Keats ever wrote," I laughed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you do Keats injustice. Have you studied him, Miss Monfort?"</p> + +<p>"Studied poetry? What an idea! No, but I have tried to read him, and +failed. I think he had a very crude, chaotic mind indeed; I like more +clearness."</p> + +<p>"Clearness and shallowness most often go together," he observed. "When +you see the pebbles at the bottom of a stream, most likely its waters +are not deep."</p> + +<p>"Yet, you can stir up mud with a long pole in the pool more readily than +in the river. Keats wanted a current, it seems to me, to give him +vitality and carry off his own mental impurities. His was a stagnant +being."</p> + +<p>"What a queer comparison," and he shook his head laughingly, "ingenious, +but at fault; you are begging the question now. Well, what do you say to +Shelley?"</p> + +<p>"I have nothing to say to him; he has every thing to say to me. He is my +master."</p> + +<p>"An eccentric taste for so young a girl; and Byron? and Moore? and Mrs. +Hemans? and Leigh Hunt? and Barry Cornwall?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, every one likes <i>them</i>, but one gets tired of hearing lions roar, +and harps play, and angels sing; and then one goes to Shelley for +refreshment. He is never monotonous; he was a perennial fountain, +singing at its source, and nearly all was fragmentary that he wrote, of +course, wanting an outlet. The mind finishes out so much for itself, +and the thought comes to one always, that he was completed in heaven. No +other verse stirs me like his. You know he wrote it because he had to +write or die. He was a poet, or nothing."</p> + +<p>"You ought to write criticisms for <i>Blackwood</i>, really, Miss Monfort, +and give a woman's reason for every opinion," with ill-concealed +derision.</p> + +<p>"You are laughing at me now, of course, but I don't regard good-natured +raillery. I am sure I should not enjoy poetry as I do were I a better +critic. I love flowers far more than many who understand botany as a +science, and pull them to pieces scientifically and analytically."</p> + +<p>"And paintings; do you love them?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, passionately!"</p> + +<p>"I confess I am <i>blase</i> with art," he said, quietly; "I have seen so +much of it, I like nature far better;" adding, after a pause, "now, that +is your chief charm. Miss Monfort."</p> + +<p>"What, being natural?"</p> + +<p>"How well you divine my meaning!" with a little irony in the voice and +eye. The tendency of his mind was evidently sarcastic.</p> + +<p>"Ah! true. Papa thinks me <i>too</i> natural; he often checks my impulses. +Your father, too, coincides with him, I believe, in this opinion; but +don't talk about me. Tell me of your sojourn in Germany. How delightful +it must have been to have lived in Heidelberg, and felt the very +atmosphere you breathed filled with wisdom! Did you ever go to +Frankfort? Did you see the statue of Goethe there? Can you read 'Faust' +in the original? Oh, I should like to so much, but I know nothing of +German. I never could learn the character, I am convinced. French and +Italian only. There was such a beautiful picture of 'Margaret' in the +Academy of Fine Arts last year, I wanted papa to purchase it, but Evelyn +and he did not fancy it as much as I did. They prefer copies from the +old masters. I don't care a cent for Magdalenes and Madonnas and little +fat cherubs. I prefer illustrations of poetry or fiction; don't you, Mr. +Bainrothe?"</p> + +<p>"Very frankly, Miss Monfort, I don't care for pictures at all, unless +for good landscapes. I am cloyed with them. And as to German books, I +never want to see another. The old 'Deer-Stealer' was worth all they +have ever written put together, in my opinion. I love the vernacular."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course, Shakespeare and the Bible; there is nothing like them +for truth and power. But to leave poetry for its sister art, you must +have enjoyed the music in Germany. Do you love music, Mr. Bainrothe?"</p> + +<p>"Not very much, except in opera; then the scenery and lights and people +are half the charm. I don't care for science. Such an adventure as I had +last night," he murmured low, "was worth a dozen operas to me;" and +again I met his admiring, steady gaze, almost embarrassing, fixed upon +me.</p> + +<p>"What are you two talking about?" asked Evelyn, coming suddenly behind +us. "Papa and Mr. Bainrothe are carrying on a little quiet flirtation, +as usual, and have quite turned their backs on me, so I came hither, +asking charity. I declare, Miriam's face is scarlet! What mischief are +you two hatching?"</p> + +<p>"I have been running on at a most unconscionable rate," I replied, +"covering up my ignorance with many questions that have bored, rather +than proved, Mr. Bainrothe, I fear. Take up the dialogue, dear Evelyn, +for a few moments, while I go to superintend that elderly flirtation +you speak of, and keep papa in order," and I left them abruptly.</p> + +<p>"It will all be paid in before then," I heard Mr. Bainrothe say, as I +approached them, "and you could not have a safer investment. It is as +sound as the Federal Government itself. Indestructible as the solar +system."</p> + +<p>"I will bring the papers," papa said, rising. "Excuse me for ten +minutes," and I dropped into his empty seat by Mr. Bainrothe.</p> + +<p>"I hope I shall not interrupt your business meditations while papa is +gone," I observed, breaking the silence first.</p> + +<p>"Business is my pastime, and no food for meditation, my dear girl; for, +like the Pontic monarch of old days, 'I live on poisons, and they have +no power, but are a kind of nutriment.' Now, talking to a pretty young +girl is far harder and more unusual work to me than transacting +mercantile or financial affairs."</p> + +<p>"Then I will not oppress you with my society," I said, with a feint to +rise.</p> + +<p>"Sit still, Miriam, and don't be foolish. You know what I mean, very +well. Now, how do you like my son?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, very much indeed; he is a little satirical, though, now and then; +intolerant of youthful greenness, I perceive, and enthusiasm."</p> + +<p>"All affectation, I assure you. He is as verdant himself as the Emerald +Isle. Just from college, and very young; what can he know of life? As to +enthusiasm, he is full of it."</p> + +<p>"True, what <i>can</i> he know of life," I mused, and I glanced at him, as I +questioned, sitting in front of Evelyn in a sort of humble, devoted +way, very different from his easy, knightly air with me. She wore a +cold, imperious expression of face not unbecoming to her haughty style +of beauty, and fanned herself gently as she listened carelessly to his +evidently earnest words, bowing superciliously in answer from time to +time.</p> + +<p>"The desire of the moth for the star," burst from my lips involuntarily.</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the kind," said Mr. Bainrothe, quietly. "If Evelyn Erie were +the last of her sex, <i>he</i> never could fancy <i>her</i>. She is much too old +for my son, much too artificial; and, beautiful as she is, she wants +some nameless charm, without which no woman ever secures the abiding +love of man;" adding, abruptly, after a little pause, "<i>That charm is +yours, Miriam</i>."</p> + +<p>"How strangely you talk, Mr. Bainrothe!" I replied, with evident +embarrassment, which he pretended not to perceive.</p> + +<p>"Had you remained one year longer at school, there would have been no +grace, no perfection wanting. I am sorry to see you thrown so young, so +unprotected, on the waves of society, as you must be soon."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not necessarily. I rarely come into the parlor when Evelyn +receives, rarely go to parties, and my studies are as dear to me as they +ever were. Besides, Mabel absorbs much of my time, and I am quite +infatuated with my new accomplishment."</p> + +<p>"What is that, Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"I am studying elocution, learning to read with Mr. Mortimer—you have +heard of him—and he is pleased, so far, with my success. It is a very +delightful resource."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you have a good voice, an impassioned face and manner—all very +suitable, no doubt; but what will it amount to, after all? You will +never have to earn your bread in that way, and for a home circle you +have always read well enough. It is time wasted, I imagine."</p> + +<p>"But the reading is not <i>all</i>. I learn to know and comprehend so much +that was sealed from me before; in this way, Shakespeare, Milton, Scott, +all acquire new beauties. By-the-by, this is what your son meant by +studying poetry, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"The puppy! Has he been lecturing you, too? Really, there is no end to +his presumption;" and he smiled, benignly, upon him.</p> + +<p>"I must defend him from such a charge," I said, earnestly. "I find him +very deferential—he has the courteous European manner, which, when +high-bred, is so polite. Americans never learn to bow like foreign +gentlemen. It is a great charm."</p> + +<p>"Do you hear that, Claude? Miss Monfort approves of your bow. This is +all I can extort from her; but she is very hard to please, very +censorious by nature, so don't be entirely discouraged."</p> + +<p>A bow of the approved sort, and wave of the hand across the room, in +addition, were the only rejoinder elicited by this sally, and again the +downcast head, the clasped hands, the low, entreating voice denoted the +character of his conference with Evelyn. He was pleading a desperate +cause, it seemed to me.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bainrothe became unreasonably nervous, I thought. He fidgeted with +his hat, and gloves, and cane, which he took from the table near him, +dropping the last as he did so; he glanced impatiently at the door +through which my father was to enter, and, when finally his friend came, +after a brief conference in a corner with regard to the papers he had +gone out to seek, probably, summoned his son abruptly and darted off in +true Continental style, followed by his more stately junior.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bainrothe amuses me," observed Evelyn after we were alone again. +"He is so transparent, dear old butterfly! He need not be alarmed! I +have put a quietus on all presumptuous hopes in that quarter forever, +and now, Miriam, I hand him over to you signed and sealed 'Claude +Bainrothe rejected and emancipated by Evelyn Erie, and ready for fresh +servitude—apprenticed, in short.'"</p> + +<p>"Thank you," I rejoined, dryly, speaking with a tightness at my throat.</p> + +<p>"He thinks you quite good-looking, Miriam, I assure you; he was +agreeably disappointed, even after what he had heard of your +appearance—from the Stanburys, I suppose—and observed that there were +fine elements in your character, too, if properly shaped and combined—a +great deal of '<i>come out</i>.'"</p> + +<p>"He is truly gracious and condescending," I replied, "I thank him +humbly."</p> + +<p>"It was very plain that you admired him, Miriam. Any one could see that. +I noticed his internal amusement at your fluttered manner."</p> + +<p>"Did he tell you what his thoughts were, Evelyn, or do you merely +interpret them after your own fashion?" I asked, sternly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course he said nothing of the kind; I would not have permitted +it, had he wished to. Poor fellow! I hope you will be kinder to him than +I have been," and she sighed heavily. "He is yours now to have and to +hold, you know."</p> + +<p>"You have not shown your usual good taste, Evelyn," I remarked, coolly, +"in rejecting so handsome and fascinating a man, and making him over to +another, unsolicited. Claude Bainrothe would suit you exactly, I think; +and, as to money, he will have enough, no doubt, for both. If not"—I +hesitated—colored—sighed.</p> + +<p>"If not, what, Miriam?" she urged, stamping her little foot impatiently +as my answer was delayed. "If not, what then, Miriam? Speak out!"</p> + +<p>"If not, dear sister, <i>I</i> will try to make up the <i>deficiency</i>," I said, +embracing her. "Now you understand my intentions."</p> + +<p>I was learning to love my sister, and happy in the power to please her, +unconscious that an invisible barrier was rising from that hour, never +to be put aside.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="I_CHAPTER_IV"></a><h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>For a discarded lover heartlessly played with, as she herself confessed +he had been, Claude Bainrothe bore himself very proudly and calmly in +Evelyn Erle's presence, I thought. At first, there was a shade of +coolness, of pique even in my own manner toward him as the memory of +Evelyn's insinuations rose between us; but after the lapse of a few +weeks all thought of this kind was put away, and he was received with a +pleasure as undisguised, as it was innocent and undesigning on my part.</p> + +<p>The repugnant idea of succeeding to Evelyn in his affections had stifled +the very germs of coquetry, and my manner to him was unmistakable; nor +was it without evident dissatisfaction that Mr. Basil Bainrothe surveyed +the ruin of his hopes.</p> + +<p>A sudden and painful change took place about midsummer in Claude's +manner toward me (with Evelyn it was uniform). He became cold, +restrained, embarrassed in his intercourse with me, hitherto so frank +and brotherly. He made his visits shorter and at last at greater +intervals; yet I knew, through others, that he remained strictly at +home, eschewing all places of amusement, all society—"all occupation +even," as Mr. Basil Bainrothe himself complained.</p> + +<p>"I can't think what has got into Claude lately," he said to my father +one day at our dinner-table. "The boy mopes. He is in love, I believe, +but with whom I can't conjecture," and he glanced askance at Evelyn and +me.—"Can you assist me, ladies?"</p> + +<p>"Not with me, I assure you," said Evelyn, proudly. "That measure has +been trodden, and the dance is over."</p> + +<p>"Nor with me," I faltered, for the careless words had struck to my +heart. "That fancy dance has yet to be solicited. We both plead +innocent, you see, Mr. Bainrothe," and I tried to laugh, but the +glittering, kaleidoscopic eye was fixed upon me, and my face was +crimson.</p> + +<p>"Never <i>blush</i>, Miriam," whispered Evelyn, maliciously, "it makes you +look the color of a new mahogany bedstead. You are best pale, child. +Always remember that."</p> + +<p>"It must be with Miss Stanbury, then," said Mr. Bainrothe, evasively. +"She is a very pretty girl, and I don't wonder at Claude's infatuation. +The old man is rich, too; it will answer very well, I think. What do you +say, Mr. Monfort."</p> + +<p>"Well, really, I think Claude could scarcely do better," rejoined my +ever literal father. "She is an admirable young person, pious, and +discreetly brought up—and—yes, quite pretty, certainly. Let us drink +to his success in that quarter.—Ladies!—Mr. Bainrothe!—fill your +glasses.—Franklin, the sherry.—Morton, the port. Which will you have, +Bainrothe? or do you prefer Rhine wines?"</p> + +<p>"A glass of Hockheimer, if you have it convenient, Franklin. Those heavy +wines are too heating for our summers, I think, Mr. Monfort. You +yourself would do well to follow my example."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said my father, loftily. "When you feed lions on +pound-cake you may expect to see Englishmen drink German acidulations +instead of the generous juice of the grape—fostered on southern soil, +above volcanoes even—to which they have been used since the time of the +last Henrys. Beer were a better alternative. Give me claret or madeira."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bainrothe had his limits, and usually took care not to exceed them. +My father's easy good-nature was converted into frozen <i>hauteur</i> at any +open effort to transcend the boundaries of his independence. He gloried +in "<i>Magna Charta</i>," and never knowingly sacrificed his baronial +privileges, yet he was wax in the hands of a skillful wheedler, and his +"adamantine will" was readily fused in the fires of flattery.</p> + +<p>We drank the proposed toast, much to Mr. Bainrothe's discomfiture. He +had made the remark as a skillful feeler, and was mortified at my +father's ready acquiescence in his plans. Of course, Evelyn and I both +saw through the unskillful <i>ruse</i>, and pledged him with hearty malice; +but he had yet another shot in reserve, which told with fatal effect.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Biddle has offered me a cashiership for Claude," he remarked, +carelessly, "in a thriving town in Georgia, and I shall accept for him +forthwith. Then, if Miss Stanbury chooses to accompany him into exile, +it will be all for the best; but, were he about to remain here, I would +not suffer him to think of matrimony for years to come. 'A young man +married is a young man marred,' as Shakespeare says somewhere, I +believe; and I agree with him. A youth of twenty-one ought to be free +for a season until he can shape his life."</p> + +<p>I felt myself tremble from head to foot. I had never contemplated the +possibility of his absence, and the conviction of my deep interest in +him flashed across me for the first time with lightning force and +vividness. Evelyn did not reproach me for blushing this time; I was pale +enough to satisfy even her spleen. Indeed, some better feeling than she +had before manifested seemed to inspire her now, for she filled another +glass of wine and motioned me to drink it. I had merely sipped from mine +when papa proposed his toast, and Franklin had borne it away with the +others in making ready for the dessert.</p> + +<p>"Don't let that man read you," she said, in a low, eager voice, not lost +on me. I drank the wine, and met his glance steadily this time, and gave +him look for look. My secret had nerved me well.</p> + +<p>That evening Claude Bainrothe came.</p> + +<p>"When do you enter the sacred bands of matrimony with Miss Stanbury, Mr. +Bainrothe?" asked Evelyn, in her usual, cool, provoking way, sipping a +glass of iced lemonade as she spoke, which Claude had brought her from +the refreshment-slab and humbly offered.</p> + +<p>"And when do you assume your office in Georgia?" I asked in the next +breath, encouraged by her example, and perhaps, alas! eager to know the +truth, scarcely lifting my eyes to his as I spoke.</p> + +<p>He glanced from one to the other with a bewildered air, quite foreign +from his usual self-possession.</p> + +<p>"I protest, ladies, I do not understand your allusions," he replied at +last, with such an air of truth that, taking pity on him, we explained +the matter laughingly.</p> + +<p>"My poor father is falling into that sear and yellow leaf, his dotage," +he said, "that is evident; what could possess him to maunder so? I +really believe he is in love with Miss Stanbury himself, and is +wire-working merely to gain my consent. As to going to Georgia, I would +as soon bury myself up to my neck in the sea-sand and bear the vertical +sun for twenty sequent noons, as to dream of such a step. The old +gentleman is a lunatic, and should be cared for without delay. I will +get Dr. Parrish to see after him to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"But I <i>did</i> hear you say you were going to Copenhagen with our +minister," said George Gaston, who had swung himself softly up to our +party on his crutches, unobserved by any one, while Claude was speaking, +and now stood glaring upon him.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that is a different matter. I <i>may</i> go there, George. I am told it +is a very gay court; besides, I am curious about Denmark, naturally. +Every one is who loves Shakespeare and the 'royal Dane,' you know."</p> + +<p>Again that fatal pallor of mine swept from my heart to brow, and this +time the large, dark gray eye of the boy was fixed on me with agony +unspeakable. He dropped it suddenly, wheeled on his supporting-sticks, +and turned away, ghastly pale himself, to seek the shelter of the +portico, where I joined him a few minutes later.</p> + +<p>"Are you ill, George?" I asked. "I felt anxious about you when I saw you +leave the parlor so suddenly. Have you had one of your spells?"</p> + +<p>"A very severe spell, Miriam; but not of the usual kind." I understood +him now. There was a dry anguish in the very tone of his voice that +smote heavily on my ear, yet I felt impatient with him, provoked beyond +endurance.</p> + +<p>"George, you should be more of a man," I said, with asperity, "than to +yield in this way to every impulse that besets you. Your whims are hard +to bear with lately, and scarcely worth understanding, I am convinced."</p> + +<p>"Would I were more or less of a man!" he answered, meekly. "I should +suffer less, probably."</p> + +<p>"Tell me what <i>does ail</i> you, George Gaston," I added, with a sudden +revulsion of feeling, caused by his patient, deprecating manner. "You +know you always have my warmest sympathy, and affection—sisterly +interest."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Miriam, it is that! You love that man; yes, you love him a +thousand-fold more than you have ever loved me. I suspected it before—I +know it now; and I would rather see you floating a corpse on the river, +with your dead face turned up to heaven, than married to that man, I +hate him so!"</p> + +<p>The last words were ground between his set teeth, and he trembled with +passion.</p> + +<p>"George," I said, "you are still a child in years, in strength, in +stature! I, but a few months older, am already a woman in age, +experience, feeling, character. It is always thus with persons of our +sexes who contract childish friendships—one outgrows the other. Then +there are bitterness, reproach, suffering, resentment, on one part or +the other. But is this just? Remember Byron and Miss Chaworth—how was +it with them? He grasped too much, and lost every thing; he embittered +his whole nature, his whole life, for the want of common-sense to guide +him; but, with almost as much genius—more, in some things, than he +possessed—you HAVE this governing principle. I know my dearest George +will do me justice. I shall be an old, faded woman when you are of an +age to marry—unlovely in your eyes, George,"—I hesitated. "I have +always hoped you would be our Mabel's husband. You know you have +promised me." I smiled tearfully this time.</p> + +<p>He bounded off the bench, interrupting me with a low cry. "Do not mock +me, Miriam Monfort," he exclaimed, "if you can do no better. My God! a +baby of five years old suggested as a wife by you, my idol! Oh, yes, +wildly-beloved Miriam, the noblest, truest, as I have ever thought +you—the most beautiful, too, surely, of all God's created beings!" and +he caught my hand wildly.</p> + +<p>"George, you are dreaming," I said; "your vivid fancy misleads you +utterly. I am not beautiful—you cannot think so; no one has ever +thought me so; you must not say such an absurd thing of me. It only +humiliates me. But I do believe I still deserve your esteem. Let us +separate now, and to-morrow come to me in a better mood."</p> + +<p>"If I <i>must</i> give you up," he murmured, in a low, grieved voice, "let it +be to a husband who loves and appreciates you—is worthy of you. I +cannot tell you all I know—<i>have heard;</i> but of this I am certain: +Claude Bainrothe loves you not! It is Evelyn he worships, and you are +blind not to see it; Evelyn who has goaded him almost to madness already +for her own purposes. I heard—but no, I cannot tell you this; I ought +not—honor forbids;" and he laid his hand on his boyish breast, in a +tragic, lofty manner, all his own, that almost made me smile.</p> + +<p>"I know, I know all this, dear George," I said. "Claude Bainrothe +addressed Evelyn before he knew me, and she refused him. Nor have I +craved the honor, this is all that can be said as yet, of being her +successor." I faltered here. "Let this satisfy you for the present. He +has not spoken to me."</p> + +<p>"But you love him—love him, Miriam!" he groaned. "Oh, I saw it plainly +to-night, and, what is far more terrible and hard to bear, he saw it +too! He was watching you from the corner of his furtive, downcast eye +when he was speaking of going to Copenhagen, and a smile trembled +around his mouth when you turned so pale—white as a poplar-leaf, +Miriam, when the wind blows it over! If I were a woman I would cut out +my heart rather than open it thus to the gaze of any man, far less one +like that, shallow, selfish, superficial. O Miriam! not worthy of you at +all—not fit to tie your shoe-latchet!"</p> + +<p>"George, you overrate me, you always did, and—and—you undervalue Mr. +Bainrothe, believe me; nay, I am sure you do. Let us part now, George. +My father is calling me, you hear. Go home, my own dear boy, and rest +and pray. Oh, be convinced that I love you better than all the world, +except those I <i>ought</i> to love more.—Yes, yes, papa! I am +coming.—Good-night, dear George."</p> + +<p>And I kissed his clammy brow, hastening in the next moment to my +father's side, who, missing me, could not rest in this new phase of his +until I was forthcoming. Certainly, whatever tenderness I had missed in +former years was amply lavished on me now. Evelyn, Mabel—all former +idols sank out of sight in my presence, and the very touch of my hand, +the sound of my voice, seemed to inspire him with happiness and a new +sense of security. Sometime I flattered myself that I had earned this +affection, since it had not seemed my birthright, nor come to me +earlier; but no, it was the grace of God, I must believe, touching his +heart at last, as the rod of Moses brought forth waters from the rock. +Yet the simile is at fault here: my father's heart was never a stone, +but tender and true and constant ever, even if locked away.</p> + +<p>It may seem strange, but from the very evidences of his carelessness, as +they seemed to others, I gathered, after a time, the blissful conviction +that Claude Bainrothe was not indifferent to me. His reserve, his +moroseness almost, the despairing way in which he spoke sometimes of his +future life, his want of purpose, of interest in what was passing around +him, his entire self-possession with Evelyn, so different from his +embarrassment with me; his manner of pursuing me with his eyes, and +holding me fast, and the long sidelong glances he often dropped at my +feet like offerings, as I detected his vigilance—all persuaded me that +what I most wished to believe was true, and that I had awakened interest +if not passion in his heart, for—at last, I loved him!</p> + +<p>The time came when his own lips confirmed my suspicions, my hopes—when +faintly, and in broken accents, he related to me the story of his love; +mine, as he declared, since the evening of our first meeting; and asked +my troth in turn. I was so inexperienced in matters of this sort, I +scarcely knew how to behave, I suppose; besides, I never thought of +giving any other reply than the one he craved, for I too had inclined to +him from the first. I recognized this now, and did not deny it when he +urged me for the truth, holding my hands in his, and looking into my +eyes in a deep and tender and devoted way peculiar to himself, that +thrilled to my very life—an adoring expression that I have seen in no +other gaze than his own, and which cast a glamour about him, I well +believe, irresistible wherever it was exercised.</p> + +<p>It was in September that we became engaged, with the joyful coincidence +of Mr. Bainrothe, the somewhat reluctant consent of my father, the +half-derisive approbation of Evelyn, the entire disapproval, expressed +in eloquent silence, of the whole Stanbury family. For a time, this +grave coldness on their part alienated me greatly from them all, George +Gaston especially; and had it not been for Mabel, and the bond she +proved between us, we might have been divided for life thereafter.</p> + +<p>My father's declining health alone threw a bleakness over that rosy time +of joy, and held in check the exuberance of my happy spirit, brimming +like sparkling wine above the vase that contained it. Sometimes, when I +met Evelyn's cold and gloomy eye, I felt myself rebuked for the +indulgence of my perfect happiness. "She knows that my father is more +ill than he seems!" I would conjecture—"Dr. Pemberton has told her what +he conceals from me. I am making festal garlands in readiness for my +father's grave, perhaps." Then with tears and entreaties I would +question her: "I <i>cannot</i> be mistaken," I would say; "something is wrong +with you. Is it about my father? If not of him, what is it, Evelyn, that +makes your face like a stone mask of late—once all life and joy?" +"Miriam, I am not quite well," she would reply evasively, or say, "I am +meditating a step that will cost me dear. My uncle, the Earl of Pomfret, +the head of our house since my grandfather's death, you know, writes me +to visit him. It is this fatal necessity—for such for some reasons I +feel it—that oppresses me so heavily."</p> + +<p>"Why a necessity, dear Evelyn, why go at all? You certainly can never +feel to any relative as you do to <i>my</i> father and <i>yours</i>."</p> + +<p>"Your father does not find me as important to his happiness as he once +did, Miriam. You have absorbed his whole affection of late; even Mabel, +once his darling and plaything, is put aside."</p> + +<p>"He surrendered her to me again, Evelyn, when I returned; this is all, +believe me. He loves, he esteems you as much as ever; he consults you in +all his arrangements. He has made you the mistress of his house; your +judgment, your advice, are paramount with, him as to all matters of +outlay; and, Evelyn, suffer me to speak to you on one subject of great +delicacy—sister! I must. Whenever you marry from this house, understand +well that you shall not go empty-handed."</p> + +<p>"Fortune is not <i>his</i> to bestow," she responded, "and large charities +have absorbed, I know, much of his yearly income, princely as that is. +Besides, he reinvests all that remains from that source for Mabel, as I +know. I feel assured he will provide for me, but it must be in a very +small way, and I must go to England and make my establishment there."</p> + +<p>"Would you marry for money, Evelyn?" I asked gravely. "O sister, can you +conceive of no higher happiness than this?"</p> + +<p>"I can," she said with emotion, while her lips blanched to the hue of +ashes. "I have dreamed such a dream in days past, but now the dark +reality alone remains and sweeps all before it. I shall embrace my first +eligible offer regardless of feeling, and I prefer to cast my destiny +with my own people, however estranged they may be. Certainly, this +letter is not very affectionate, nor even a courteous one from so near a +relative," and she placed in my hand the cold and supercilious note of +the Earl of Pomfret, containing a permission to visit his castle, rather +than invitation.</p> + +<p>"Yet you will go, Evelyn?"</p> + +<p>"Miriam, I <i>must</i> go. I should go mad were I to stay here, or die in the +struggle."</p> + +<p>"Sister, what can this be? Evelyn, hear me: I swear to you, on the day +of my majority, to endow you richly in your own right. It is +independence you want—you shall have it. My father will consent to +this I know, and consider it no more than your due."</p> + +<p>"You are kind," she said; "generous, very. You are not like your +mother's people in that respect, such as they are in these degenerate +days, at least. She herself was unlike them, I have heard, for her hand +was princely. But, Miriam, I could not receive such obligations from +you—ought not. Besides—your husband!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Evelyn, there is nothing he would refuse me—nothing."</p> + +<p>A gloomy mockery transfused itself into her eyes, her lips were fixed in +a suppressed and sneering smile. Incredulity was written on her aspect. +Her face at that moment was very repulsive to contemplate.</p> + +<p>"You do not believe in men," I said, coldly. "I have always remarked it; +yet there are <i>some</i> worthy of confidence, believe me."</p> + +<p>"Very few, Miriam, and Claude Bainrothe is not unlike the majority of +his fellows. Men count it no wrong to deceive women."</p> + +<p>"O Evelyn, you are too severe, I think. Why seek to shake my confidence +in the man I love? He did not happen to suit your fancy, and you +rejected him. I took what you cast aside, humbly, thankfully, dear +Evelyn. Why resent this, and scorn me for my humility? Let not your +pride for me make you unjust toward him. You, of all women, can best +afford to be generous to Claude Bainrothe."</p> + +<p>But still the cold shadow veiled her face, and still she looked +inauspiciously on our betrothal, which, owing to our youth, it was +understood, should continue a year. In the interval I was to travel with +my father to the different large cities of the Union which I had never +seen, and abide awhile in Washington.</p> + +<p>His health, Dr. Pemberton thought, required this change, but a darker +one was in store for him.</p> + +<p>On Christmas-day, of that year, he was smitten with paralysis, and his +decline was sure and rapid from that hour. Let me pass over the agony of +that period of six weeks, lengthened into years by the dread tension of +anxiety, most relentless of the furies. But for the confidence I felt in +Claude's affection, and the vista of hope it opened for me, I think I +should have succumbed under the unequal struggle.</p> + +<p>During this period, his attentions to me and to my helpless father were +most kind and assiduous. Mr. Bainrothe and Evelyn, too, between whom +some unexplained alienation had existed for some time, met in apparent +harmony above his bed of death.</p> + +<p>In addition to the services of our own dear and valued physician, we had +others of eminence coming and going daily, with the knowledge in their +own breasts that all was vain.</p> + +<p>Still I never ceased entirely to hope until the very last. "He is not +old, he is still vigorous," I would say to myself. "There may be—there +<i>must</i> be—reaction. I have so often heard him boast of his English +constitution, I cannot, oh, I cannot think that the end is yet!"</p> + +<p>I wondered then at the inattention of the Stanburys, in whose +disinterested friendship I had reposed so much confidence, even though a +shadow of late had been thrown over our intercourse by my engagement +with Claude Bainrothe, a shadow of which I thought I saw the substance +in the bitter jealousy and rancorous, unreasonable love and hatred of +the morbid George Gaston.</p> + +<p>Later I found by the merest accident, through one note of his that had +been left in a drawer of a desk long disused, that Mr. Gerald Stanbury +and Evelyn had maintained a rather fierce correspondence on the subject +of her refusal to accept his services at my father's pillow; founded, as +she alleged, on the recent unexplained but deep-rooted aversion Mr. +Monfort seemed to have imbibed for his neighbor and friend, and which +his physicians said must be regarded.</p> + +<p>Allusion was made, not unmixed with bitterness, in Mr. Stanbury's note, +to this assertion of hers, which he pronounced, if true, to rest on the +misrepresentations of villains who had interposed between the too +confiding Mr. Monfort and himself for no good purpose. No names were +given, but it was easy to see to whom his reference was made, and I had +every reason to suppose that Evelyn had communicated these opinions to +those most interested in knowing them long before this record +accidentally fell into my hands.</p> + +<p>On the day of the funeral, however, Mr. and Mrs. Stanbury were present, +with Laura and George. All seemed deeply affected, and one by one came +to me in my shadowed chamber with a few words of tender sympathy or +kindly condolence, for I could not bear to go down into that crowded +parlor and see <i>him</i> dead amid all that tide of life, who had so lately +stood there powerful and beloved—Monfort the master!</p> + +<p>It was a superb day, they told me, such as we often have at that season +in our changeful clime, and the distant peal of military music, the +chiming of bells, the firing of cannon, the roar of the awakened +multitude, reached my ear even in that secluded street, that quiet room.</p> + +<p>The people were celebrating an anniversary that in all times has brought +joy and pride to millions of united hearts. It was the birthday of +Washington.</p> + +<p>Laura Stanbury remained with me while all the rest went to the stately +funeral, Evelyn leading Mabel down-stairs, they told me, attired in her +little black dress, in sad contrast with her ivory skin, her yellow +hair, her childish years, and her unconsciousness of the grave loss she +had sustained; Mrs. Austin following these, her darlings, to go with +them in the principal mourning-coach, in which Mr. Bainrothe also found +himself ensconced, by some diplomacy of his own, no doubt, all clad in +sables, and with his polished aspect fixed in woe!</p> + +<p>After the funeral, Dr. Pemberton came up for a few minutes to my +chamber. He found me reasonably calm and composed, and expressed his +gratification at my condition.</p> + +<p>"Now, do be very careful of yourself, my dear Miriam, or you may have +one of your sleepy attacks, and they are exhausting to Nature, trying to +both body and soul. We must guard against any thing of this sort at this +time. You know how apt they are to supervene on excitement of any kind +with you." He said this in his own kind, encouraging manner.</p> + +<p>"Then they are strictly nervous?" I inquired.</p> + +<p>"I don't know; can't say, indeed.—Here, Mrs. Austin, give Miriam one of +these powders," and he drew them from his pocket-book, "every six hours +until I come again, and keep her as quiet as possible. Some light +nourishment she must take, but let there be no preaching and praying +about her this evening, and advise Mr. Bainrothe to go quietly home for +the present. She must not be excited, only soothed. Let Mabel come, of +course."</p> + +<p>He came again on the next day and the next, and so on until he was +satisfied that all was going on very well, he said, but he would not +suffer my father's will to be opened for a week, knowing that my +presence would be necessary at the reading, and he permitted no +disturbance of any kind to approach me during that interval of +probation.</p> + +<p>"Do you think you could get through with a few business details +to-morrow?" he asked me on the last day of his visit. "They all seem +very impatient, though I cannot see why."</p> + +<p>"I think so, Dr. Pemberton."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, notify Mr. Bainrothe to make ready for you in the library +at any hour you may fix upon. He was your father's attorney, it seems, +and had the will in his keeping. Of course it will be a very simple +matter to carry out its provisions, since all was fixed before, as every +one knows, but there may be some little agitation. Now, don't give way, +I charge you."</p> + +<p>"How can I help it. Dr. Pemberton?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, with a will like yours, one can do a great deal. I had an obstinate +patient once determined not to die, and she did not die, though death +was due. Resistance is natural to some temperaments. Yours is one of +them. Fight off those attacks, Miriam, in future."</p> + +<p>"I will try," I said, half amused at his suggestion, "but, if all +physicians gave such prescriptions, medicine would be at a discount."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. Medicine is a great aid in any case—I have never thought +it more. A doctor is only a pilot; he steers a ship sometimes past +dangerous places on which it would founder otherwise, but he never +pretends, unless he is a charlatan, to upheave shoals and rocks, or to +control tempests. He can only mind his rudder and shift his sails; the +rest is with Providence. Now, suppose the captain of this ship is calm +and firm, and coincides with the pilot's efforts, instead of +counteracting and embarrassing them. Don't you see the advantage to the +ship?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly, and I admire the ingenuity of your allegory. You must +have been studying Bunyan, lately."</p> + +<p>"No, Miriam, I have little time for books, save those necessary to my +profession. I study a mightier volume daily than scholar ever wrote—the +wondrous mind and body of man, the one illustrated by the other, and +both so mutually dependent that short-sighted people have occasionally +confounded them, yet distinct after all as God and the universe."</p> + +<p>"I am glad to hear you say this; doctors are so often accused of being +materialists."</p> + +<p>"No men living have less excuse for being so. The phenomenon of death +alone ought to set that matter at rest in any reasoning mind. The +impalpable is gone, and the material perishes. It is so plain that he +that runs might read, one would think. That sudden change from volition +to inertia is, in itself, conviction to every right-seeing mind."</p> + +<p>"Yet I wish we knew more," I mused, aloud. "We ought to know more, it +seems to me. God has not told us half enough for our satisfaction. It is +so cruel to leave us in the dark, lit only by partial flashes of +lightning. If we were certain of the future, we could bear separation +better from those we love. It would not seem so hopeless."</p> + +<p>"If we were certain of the future, we would not bear it all," he +remarked, "but grow impatient and exacting like children who rise in the +night to examine the Christmas stocking, rather than wait until morning. +Most often we should join those we loved rather than bide our time if +we were certain. Moreover, what merit would there be in faith or +fortitude? No, Miriam, it is best as it is, believe me. Every thing is +for the best that God has done; we must not dare to question the ways +any more than the will of the Eternal."</p> + +<p>"You ought to have been a preacher, Dr. Pemberton," I said, smiling +sadly, "instead of a physician."</p> + +<p>"No, my dear little girl, I ought to have been just what I am, since it +was God's will. And now be calm and self-sustaining until I come again, +which will be before long, I think."</p> + +<p>I tried as far as in me lay to regard the instructions of my kind friend +and physician (and happy are those who unite both in one person), but, +prepare as we may to receive the waves of the sea when we bathe in its +margin, and skillful as we may believe ourselves in buffeting or +avoiding them, there comes one now and then with a strength and +suddenness that sweeps us from our feet, overthrows us, and lays us +prostrate at the sandy bottom of the ocean, to emerge therefrom half +stifled with the bitter brine.</p> + +<p>Such experience was destined to be mine before many hours.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="I_CHAPTER_V"></a><h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Mr. Gerald Stanbury had been especially invited to attend the reading of +my father's will, by a polite note from Mr. Bainrothe, in which the +interest that both bore in this testament was plainly set forth. With +the exception of our excellent old neighbor and the two Mr. Bainrothes, +the circle assembled for the solemn occasion was composed entirely of +Mr. Monfort's household and was truly a funereal one. I wore my +deep-mourning dress for the first time that day, and Mabel, similarly +attired, sat beside me. Claude Bainrothe was alone on a distant sofa.</p> + +<p>Evelyn assumed my father's chair, and wore, with the weeds customary to +widows, a demeanor of great dignity and reserve suitable to the head of +the family. Mr. Gerald Stanbury had a seat near mine, on which he sat +uneasily, and Mrs. Austin, Franklin, and Morton, were ranged together +stiffly in chairs placed against the wall, likewise attired in deep +mourning. Mr. Bainrothe was seated near the study-table, looking +unusually pale and subdued, from one of the drawers of which he had +drawn forth the will, unlocking and locking it again with a key +suspended to his guard-chain.</p> + +<p>"This key was placed in my hand," he said, "during my friend's last +illness, and, although he could not speak to me at the time, his +expressive eye indicated its importance and to what drawer it belonged. +This was before he was removed from the study in which he was stricken, +dear friends, as you may all remember, on Christmas-morning, and which +he never again reentered. From that day to this the key which I wear has +not left my charge, nor been placed in the lock to which it belongs, and +to the guardianship of which this will, as soon as made and legally +attested, was probably committed. We will now, with your permission, +break the seal that I see has been placed upon this document since I +beheld it, the contents of which are already familiar to me." He then +opened and read in a clear, monotonous voice my father's will and its +provisions.</p> + +<p>The property, as I knew already, was all mine by marriage contract, +except such sums as my father had accumulated and set aside from his +yearly income for his own purposes. With these he richly endowed Evelyn +Erle, and comfortably the three servants or attendants, as he preferred +to call them, who had followed him from England, and by their lives of +fidelity and duty shown themselves worthy of his regard. Half of my +estate was already in stocks of the United States Bank, and half loaned +at interest on sound mortgages. This last was to be called in as +speedily as possible and invested also in stocks of the above-mentioned +bank, in that peculiar institution known as the Pennsylvania Bank, and +still supposed to be under Mr. Biddle's superintendence. This was done, +the testator said, to simplify his daughter's property, and render it +more manageable to her hand, should she by her own will remain single, +or by that of Providence be widowed, and he hoped in any case she would +suffer it to remain in this shape as long as Mr. Biddle or Mr. Bainrothe +lived.</p> + +<p>All this I heard with satisfaction and even indifference, but the part +that stung me almost to exasperation was reserved for the last. Mr. +Bainrothe and Mr. Stanbury were named as executors conjointly with +Evelyn Erie, in the last mentioned of whom all power over my actions was +to vest until I should be of age, and in whose hands, as guardian, Mabel +and her property were exclusively intrusted until that time should +arrive; after that period her sisters were to act jointly, unless my +marriage were made without consent of Evelyn, in which case Mabel was to +be her charge alone.</p> + +<p>No security was to be required of either executor, but, across Mr. +Gerald Stanbury's name two lines in ink had been drawn with a wavering +hand, as if for erasure.</p> + +<p>I heard this last clause of the will with a beating, bounding, indignant +heart. Evelyn, who so hated Claude Bainrothe, had us both completely in +her power for the present, and might defer our marriage for years if it +so pleased her. And Mabel, toward whom she did not disguise her +indifference, was to be hers on this ground perhaps forever! Slavery for +four of the best years of my life was entailed on me, and bondage +forever on her, perhaps—my idol—my darling—mine—all mine by every +right of man or God!</p> + +<p>The injustice was too palpable. It was almost incomprehensible to me how +he had been wrought upon to do these things—he, "a just man made +perfect." All this flashed stunningly across my brain. Suddenly I threw +my hand wildly to my head—the whirl of waters was in my ears; yet I +struggled against the surging tide, and Claude Bainrothe's grasp upon my +hand strengthened and revived me. I was roused from my apathy by hearing +Mr. Gerald Stanbury's loud, sonorous voice speaking out clearly: "I +decline to serve, Mr. Bainrothe, after that erasure. You understand +that, of course. It was a farce to send for me to-day, tinder these +circumstances."</p> + +<p>"How could I know, my dear sir, that this erasure had been made?" was +the soft and specious rejoinder. "It must have been done in the last few +months. This will was drawn up in August last. I was ignorant of the +whole subsequent proceeding, and at that time Mr. Monfort laid peculiar +stress on your coincidence as executor. Has any thing occurred since +that time to mar your good understanding?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing of any consequence," said Mr. Stanbury, coldly—"nothing +bearing on the esteem of man for man. Nevertheless, Mr. Monfort, as we +all know, was a man easy to offend and difficult to appease, and I +suppose" (he swallowed hard as he spoke) "he weighed old friendship and +some good offices as nothing against his wounded self-love, and against +the flatterers who beset him with their snares."</p> + +<p>"Sir, you intend to be insulting, no doubt," Mr. Bainrothe observed, +with a semblance of calm dignity; "but it is not on such an occasion as +this, and in the disinterested discharge of my duty, that I will suffer +myself to be ruffled by the bitter injustice of an irritable and +disappointed old man."</p> + +<p>"Be guarded, Mr. Bainrothe," Mr. Stanbury rejoined, "in your expressions +to me, or I will look into that illegal erasure and still stand to my +oar in this golden galley of yours, in which you expect to float with +the stream, and so soon to have every thing your own way. I like plain +sailing, sir; am a plain, straightforward man myself, to whom truth is +second nature; and, were it not for the violence it might do the +feelings of the person chiefly concerned in this testament, so soon to +be allied to you and yours, if I understand things properly and report +speaks truly, I would defy you, Mr. Basil Bainrothe, in the public +courts, and claim my executorship under the wing of the law."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bainrothe had turned ashy pale during the deliverance of this fiery +rebuke. But he controlled himself admirably, merely contenting himself +with saying, in a low voice: "No threats, if you please, Mr. Stanbury; +act out your intentions when and where you choose, but have +consideration just now for the feelings of others." And he waved his +hand, trembling with rage, toward me, including in his gesture Evelyn, +who by this time was beside me with her salts, chafing my hands. "I am +sure we are all willing to yield our executorships if Miriam desires +it," she said. "I, for one, should be glad to lift such a yoke from my +shoulders, unaccustomed to such a burden. Mr. Stanbury, desirable as you +seem to think it, this post of mine is no sinecure. But spare Miriam +this scene, I beg of you; she is much overcome—much exhausted; +excitement in her case is very injurious, Dr. Pemberton says. Let me beg +you, my dear sir, to retire. All shall be done properly and in order. +Her interest is our chief concern, of course."</p> + +<p>"Evelyn Erle, I have nothing to say to you," I heard Mr. Stanbury +exclaim, in a loud, excited tone. "It is not with women I wish to wage +war, and so understand me! But there is One above to whom you will have +to account rigidly some day for your stewardship and guardianship of +these friendless girls, and be prepared, I counsel you, with your +accounts, to meet Him when the day of reckoning comes! And it may come +sooner than you suspect. I, for one, shall keep an unslumbering eye upon +you and your devices while I live, even though at a distance.—Miriam, I +am always ready to assist you, my dear, in any way possible to me—call +on me freely. Remember, I am your friend." He came to me, he took me to +his breast, he kissed my brow, his tears were on my cheek. I cast my +arms about his dear, old, noble neck; I leaned my quivering face against +his bosom. "I always loved you," I said. "I am so sorry, so sorry, Mr. +Stanbury!" I knew no more—the words forsook my lips. Again that wild +whirl of waters surged upon my ears; I seemed to be falling, falling +down a black, steep, bottomless shaft, beneath which the sea was +roaring—falling head-foremost—hurled as if with a strong impulse down +the abyss to certain destruction.</p> + +<p>Then all was still. The jaws of my dark malady had opened to receive me.</p> + +<p>I woke as from a long, deep, and unrefreshing slumber. I was lying in my +bed, with the curtains, drawn closely around it—the heavy crimson +curtains, with their white inside draperies and snowy tufted fringes. I +had a vague consciousness that some hand had recently parted them, and +the tassels on the valance were quivering still with the impulse they +had thus received. Then I heard voices.</p> + +<p>"How much longer will it endure, Evelyn?"</p> + +<p>"Five or six hours, I suppose. What time is it now?" The clock in the +hall struck ten before the question could be answered.</p> + +<p>"Ten! It was about three when she was seized," rejoined the voice of +Evelyn; "you can calculate for yourself—the turns are invariably twelve +and twenty-four hours in duration; if one period is transcended the +other is accomplished. Dr. Pemberton himself told me this."</p> + +<p>"Might not the term in some way be shortened? I was very sure I heard +her stirring just now, and my heart was in my mouth." After which a +pause.</p> + +<p>"I knew you were mistaken, but I examined to satisfy your mind. No, she +still lies in a lethargy, and will lie in that comatose condition until +after noon. Then Dr. Pemberton will be here, and she will revive."</p> + +<p>"That seizure was very dreadful, but I saw no foam on her lips like most +epileptics, and I watched narrowly."</p> + +<p>"There are modifications of the disease, Claude; hers is of a passive +kind, with very few or no convulsive struggles—more like syncope. Had +you not better retire now?"</p> + +<p>"Still, it <i>is</i> epilepsy? No, do not banish me yet."</p> + +<p>"That is what the doctors call it, I believe, Claude. Dr. Pemberton is +too guarded or politic, one or the other—all Quakers are, you know—to +give it a name, however. Dr. Physick told papa what it was very plainly, +years ago."</p> + +<p>"Ah I he was good authority, certainly a great physician and a +philosopher as well; but, Evelyn, it is very awful," with a groan, and +perhaps a shudder. "Very hard to get over or to bear."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and the worst of it is it will increase with age, and the end is +so deplorable—idiocy or madness, you know, invariably. Early death is +desirable for Miriam. Her best friends should not wish to see her life +prolonged. It is an inheritance, probably. Her mother died of some +inscrutable incurable disease, I suppose like this."</p> + +<p>"O God! O God! it is almost more than I can stand."</p> + +<p>I heard him pacing the room slowly up and down, and my impulse was to +part the curtains, to call him to me and comfort him, but I could not; +I was too weak even to speak as yet, and bound as with a spell, a +nightmare.</p> + +<p>A whirl of vivid joy passed through me like an electric flash, however, +as I recognized in his disquietude the strength of his affection. +Evelyn's malignant cruelty and falsehood were lost sight of in the bliss +of this conviction; yet my triumph was but brief.</p> + +<p>"Evelyn," he said, speaking low, and pausing in his slow, continued +pace.—"Evelyn, just as she lies there sleeping, I would she could lie +forever! Then happiness could dawn for us again."</p> + +<p>"Never, Claude Bainrothe!"</p> + +<p>"You are unforgiving, my Evelyn! you have no mercy on me nor my +sufferings. You make no allowance for necessity, or the desperation of +my condition. In debt myself, and so long a cause of expense and anxiety +to my father, whose sacrifices for me have been manifold, and before +whom ruin is grimly yawning even now, how could I act otherwise, +consistently with the duty of a son? Nay, what manhood would there have +been in consigning you to such a fate as awaited penniless wife of mine?</p> + +<p>"I did not think of these things, did not know them even, when we first +met, and when I told you of my sudden passion I was sincere, Evelyn, +then, as I am now, for it is unchanged, and you know that it is so.</p> + +<p>"When the dark necessity was laid bare to me, and I felt it my duty to +cancel our engagement, you bore it bravely, you kept my counsel, you +assisted me in my projects; you proved yourself all that was noble and +magnanimous in woman. What marvel, then, that I more than ever loved +you, and wished the obstacle removed that divides us, and yearn for my +lost happiness now dearer to me than before, only to be renewed through +you, Evelyn! that I still adore!—woman most beautiful, most beloved!"</p> + +<p>"Claude, this is mockery; release my hand; arise, this position becomes +you not, nor yet me. Go! I am lost to you forever! your own cowardice, +your own weak worship of expediency, have been your real obstacles. For +your sake I was willing to brave poverty, debt, expatriation. It was you +who preferred the dross of gold, and the indulgence of your own luxury +and that of the sybarite, your father, to the passionate affection I +bore you. It is too late now for regret or recrimination. Go, I command +you! accomplish your destiny; continue to beguile Miriam with the tale +of your affection, and in return reap your harvest of deluded affection +and golden store from her! and from me receive your guerdon of scorn. +For I, Claude Bainrothe, know you as you are, and despise you utterly!" +Her voice trembled with anger, I knew of old its violent ring of rage.</p> + +<p>"No, Evelyn, you only know me as I <i>seem</i>"—he spoke mildly, +humbly—"not as I <i>am</i>. I am not a very bad man, Evelyn, nor even a very +weak one; in all respects, vile as I appear to you, only a very unhappy +wretch, and as such entitled to your respectful compassion at least—all +I dare ask for now. I will not receive your scorn as my fit guerdon. Is +there no strength in overcoming inclination as I have done, in +compelling words of affection to flow from loathing lips?—for those +scars alone, Evelyn, in contrast to your speckless beauty, would of +themselves be enough to shock a fastidious man like me, those hideous +livid scars which I have yet to behold, and shudder over, marking one +whole side as you assure me of neck, shoulder, and arm, things that in +woman are of such inestimable value, of almost more importance than the +divine face itself."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but the other side is statuesque enough to satisfy the +requisitions of a sensuous sculptor," she rejoined, coldly; "you are +wrong, Claude, let us be just! Miriam is very well formed, to say no +more, and her skin is like a magnolia-leaf, where sun and wind have not +touched or tanned it; then those scars will turn white after a while +like the rest, and perhaps scarcely be visible."</p> + +<p>"O Heavens! hideous white seams!" he exclaimed, passionately. "I have +seen such, like small-pox marks, only ten times more frightful and +indelible." In his impotent weakness he moaned aloud.</p> + +<p>"Worse and worse! I will tell you frankly, had I known of <i>them</i>, the +engagement never would have been contracted—no, not though the +<i>inferno</i> had opened beneath me as my only alternative—but honor binds +me now."</p> + +<p>"You are fastidious truly, and your sense of honor supreme," she +sneered.</p> + +<p>"Beauty there was not," he continued, without regarding her rejoinder, +"in any remarkable degree. I could have borne its absence with common +patience, but absolute disfigurement, deformity, such as you assure me +those burns have left behind them, is too dreadful! Had not Dr. +Pemberton bared her arm in bleeding, as he did, I should never have +known of it at all probably until too late. That one mark was +suggestive."</p> + +<p>"You attach too much consequence to mere externals, Claude," said +Evelyn, coldly. "I trust such fastidious notions may be laid at rest +before your marriage, or poor Miriam, with her warm, affectionate, and +unsuspicious nature will be the sufferer. I pity her fate, sincerely."</p> + +<p>"No, Evelyn, you wrong me there; I respect and esteem her far too much +ever to wound her feelings. Against this I shall carefully guard. My +bargain would be broken, otherwise. It is a clear case of barter and +sale, you see. One's honor is concerned in keeping such an obligation. I +shall never be ungrateful."</p> + +<p>"You have European ideas, you tell me," she said, bitterly; "is this one +of them?"</p> + +<p>"It is, and the least among them, perhaps; yet it is, nevertheless, hard +to overcome positive repulsion."</p> + +<p>There was a pause now, during which I could count every throb of my +heart, and throat, and temples—my whole frame was transfigured into an +anvil, on which a thousand tiny hammers seemed to ring. Yet I could not +move, nor speak, nor weep—no wretchedness was ever more supreme than +this cataleptic seizure. Evelyn was the first to break the transient +silence.</p> + +<p>"Your path is a plain one, Claude Bainrothe; fulfill your contract, +sealed with gold, and bear patiently your selected lot."</p> + +<p>"Evelyn, one word—let it be sincere: do you hate and scorn me? Answer +me as you would speak to your own soul."</p> + +<p>"No, Claude, no, yet the blow was hard to bear—struck, too, as you must +reflect, so suddenly! Only the day before abandonment, remember, you had +made protestations of such undying constancy. Your conduct was surely +inconstant, at least."</p> + +<p>"I make them still, those professions you scorn so deeply."</p> + +<p>"Away, false man, lest the sleeper awaken!"</p> + +<p>"You say there is no danger of that, and that in their coffins the dead +are not more insensible."</p> + +<p>"To see you kneeling at my feet might bring the dead even to life," she +laughed, contemptuously. "I am sick of this drama; be natural for once. +We can both afford to be so now."</p> + +<p>"Do not spurn me, Evelyn! Never was my love for you so wild as now." I +heard him kissing her hands passionately, and his voice, as he spoke +these words, was choked with grief.</p> + +<p>"O Claude, let my hand go; at least consider appearances. Mrs. Austin +will be here in a moment now; what will she think of you? What am I to +think of such caprice?"</p> + +<p>"One word, then, Evelyn—tell me that you forgive me—on such conditions +I will release your hands."</p> + +<p>"When I forgive you, Claude, I shall be wholly indifferent to you," she +said, gently. "Do you still claim forgiveness? I am not angry, though, +take that assurance for all comfort. Then, if you will have it" (and I +heard a kiss exchanged), "this confirmation."</p> + +<p>"Then you are not wholly indifferent to me, Evelyn?" he said, in eager +tones, "you care for me still—a little?"</p> + +<p>"A very little, Claude"—hesitatingly.</p> + +<p>"Say that you love me, Evelyn, just once more—I can then die happy."</p> + +<p>"Claude Bainrothe, arise—unhand me—this is child's play—let me +breathe freely again. Well do you know I love you. O God! why do you +return to a theme so bitter and profitless to both? Come, let us look +together on Miriam sleeping, and gather strength and courage from such +contemplation. Come, my friend!"</p> + +<p>The curtains were lifted—still I lay rigidly and with closed eyelids +before them—not from any notion of my own, but from the helplessness of +my agony and the condition into which I was fast drifting. Once or +twice during the progress of this conversation I had tried to lift my +voice, my hand—both were alike powerless. I lay bound, for a while, in +a cataleptic reverie, and then I passed away once more into darkness and +syncope.</p> + +<p>It was evening when I revived—Dr. Pemberton was sitting beside me, +holding my pulse—Mrs. Austin and Mabel were at the bedside. This was, +at last, the end I craved; of all, I hoped.</p> + +<p>"The wine, Mrs. Austin," the doctor said, in low accents.</p> + +<p>"Quick! one spoonful instantly. You know how it was before—you were too +slow; she fell back before she could swallow it.—Now another, Miriam. +Say, are you better?"</p> + +<p>Most anxiously as my eyes opened and were fixed upon his face, were +these words spoken:</p> + +<p>"No, dying, I believe—at least, I hope so!"</p> + +<p>The shrieks of the child aroused me to a sense of what I owed myself and +her. "You shall not die, sister Miriam," she cried. "Papa does not want +you—I want you—I will not stay with Evelyn and Claude—I will go down +in the ground too, if you die. My sister, you shall not go to God! I +will hold you tight, if He comes for you. He shall not have my +Miriam—nor His angels either."</p> + +<p>Her cries did for me what medicine had failed to do. They tried in vain +to silence her. My pulse returned under the stimulus of emotion. I put +out my hand blindly to Mabel.</p> + +<p>"Hush, darling," I said, "I will live for you if I can—ask Dr. +Pemberton to save me."</p> + +<p>"You are better, already, Miriam," he whispered. "Mrs. Austin, take +Mabel away until she can be quiet and behave like a lady; her sister is +getting well—tell her I say so. Call Miss Evelyn here, instantly."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" with an impatient movement of the hand. "Not Evelyn;" again my +arm fell nervelessly.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, don't call her, of course. I will stay a while myself; we +don't want anybody at all, Miriam and I, only each other. Go you and +make that panada ready, and sent it when I ring. Let Charity bring it, +she will do. Keep every one else away."</p> + +<p>His word was law in our household in times of illness, and Mabel's cries +were hushed at once by his assurances, and she was led passively away. +She was capable of great self-control on emergencies, like her own dear +sainted mamma, who always thought <i>first</i> what was best for others, and +<i>afterward</i> for herself, if there was room at all for such latter +consideration.</p> + +<p>"You must have revived hours ago," said Dr. Pemberton, after I had +rallied sufficiently to prove to him that my crisis was over, and the +usual symptoms of returning convalescence had been manifested. "I have +marked your seizures narrowly, the periods are perfect—have limited +them to eighteen hours latterly—nay, sometimes to twelve; they used to +be four-and-twenty. You were due back again in port, little craft, at +nine or ten o'clock this morning."</p> + +<p>"Back again from where, Dr. Pemberton?"</p> + +<p>"How should I know, my dear? Some unknown shore—Hades, perhaps. Who +knows what becomes of the soul when the body is wrapped in stupor or +sleep, any more than when it is dead? You came partially to yourself at +five this afternoon. I had just come in then, having been unavoidably +detained. We administered, or tried to administer, wine—but too +slowly; you fell back again into unconsciousness—drifted off to sea +once more; but this last effort of Nature was successful. It is all very +mysterious to me. Have you no memory of having revived before?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was conscious for some time this morning—for nearly an hour, I +think."</p> + +<p>"At what hour? Who was with you?"</p> + +<p>"At ten o'clock. I heard the hall clock strike that hour soon after I +opened my eyes. I counted every stroke. There were persons in the room +at the time, but no one knew of my recovery of consciousness. I lay as +if spellbound. I heard conversation and understood it; I remember every +word of it yet—I shall ever remember it. But, when they came to me, I +was unable to speak or make a sign."</p> + +<p>"Unable, or unwilling? I have said before, Miriam, the will has much to +do with all this. It is a sort of magnetic seizure, I sometimes think."</p> + +<p>"Both, perhaps, involuntary; but I certainly did not wish to grow +unconscious again."</p> + +<p>"Yet you wanted to die a while ago—child, child, there is something +wrong here! What is it? Tell me frankly. I heard of the scene with Mr. +Stanbury—the passionate old man was very unwise to excite you so; he +meant well, though, no doubt—he always does. What more has occurred? +Now, tell me candidly—much depends on the truth—has any one been +unkind?"</p> + +<p>"Whatever I say to you, Dr. Pemberton, must be under the pledge of +confidence," I replied; "otherwise I shall keep my own counsel."</p> + +<p>"Surely, Miriam."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I overheard some one saying, when I revived this morning, +that I was epileptic, and it troubled me. Now, I call upon you solemnly +to answer me truthfully on this point. Of what character is my +disease?—speak earnestly."</p> + +<p>"I do not know—not epilepsy, certainly; partially nervous, I think—one +of Nature's strange safety-valves, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"You would not deceive me?"</p> + +<p>"Not under present circumstances, surely; not at any time after such an +appeal as yours."</p> + +<p>"Did Dr. Physick ever pronounce my disease epilepsy? You consulted +together about it once, I believe. Do tell me the truth about this +matter," laying my hand on his arm.</p> + +<p>"Never, so help me God!" he said, earnestly.</p> + +<p>"You have relieved me greatly," I said, pressing my lips on that dear +and revered hand which had so often ministered to me and mine in sorest +agony—a hand spotless as the heart within—yet, brown and withered as +the leaves of autumn.</p> + +<p>"Now you, in turn, must relieve me," he said, gravely. "Who was it that +alleged these things? They were slanders, and deserve to be nailed to +the wall, and shall be if power be mine to do so."</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you. Do not ask me. It was not asserted that you +pronounced my disease epilepsy, but insinuated that you thought so. Dr. +Physick's opinion was given to confirm this impression."</p> + +<p>"Have you traitors in your own household, Miriam?" he asked, sternly.</p> + +<p>I was silent—shedding quiet tears, however.</p> + +<p>"I have thought so before," he said, low, between his set teeth. "But, +thank God, you can put your foot on them all before very long!—This +seems a nice young man you are going to marry, but I never liked his +father. I say this frankly to you, child; but, in truth, I have had no +sufficient reason for this distaste or prejudice—it is no more, I +confess. You are very much in their hands for the present, I fear; but I +hope they will do you justice."</p> + +<p>"I shall not marry Claude Bainrothe," I rejoined at last, firmly. "Let +this be perfectly understood between us two, Dr. Pemberton. That +marriage will never take place!"</p> + +<p>"Why, your own father told me you were engaged in October last!"</p> + +<p>"I have changed my mind since then. Understand me, I admire Mr. +Bainrothe for many qualities—I am attached to him even; and he is +infinitely to be pitied for some reasons, certainly; but marry him I +never will!"</p> + +<p>"And this is your resolution?"</p> + +<p>"It is. But, on second thoughts, I will ask you to keep your knowledge +of it strictly to yourself. I cannot tell you my motives of action now, +but they are good."</p> + +<p>"Miriam, you must not ask me to be your confederate in any scheme of +coquetry or caprice such as this concealment points to. You must deal +with this young man openly—no double dealings, my child, or I shall +come to the rescue."</p> + +<p>"Have you ever known me to play fast and loose, Dr. Pemberton? Is that +my characteristic? Ask Mr. Gerald Stanbury—ask all who know me—if I +have ever been guilty of deceit, or time-serving, or caprice, or +perfidy. No, Dr. Pemberton, it is on his own account solely that I wish +to keep this matter quiet for the present. Should <i>he</i> wish to proclaim +it, I surely shall not object. But I seek only to shield him from +mortification, from reproach, in the line of conduct that I am +adopting—best for both."</p> + +<p>"And to give yourself margin for a change of mind again—little fox! Ah, +Miriam, it is the old story—a lovers' quarrel! I understand it all +perfectly now. Don't be too hard on the young fellow; he seemed very +much in love. Relent in time; he will value your mercy more than your +justice, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Have you ever seen us together, that you pronounce him very much in +love?" I asked, in a hard, cold, subdued voice that startled my own ear, +and made him serious at once.</p> + +<p>"Never. But he wears the absent, dreamy air of a lover; even when alone +it is noticeable, Miriam. I can always tell when a man is preoccupied in +that way."</p> + +<p>"If you could go a little further, and divine the object of such +preoccupation, you would be better prepared to counsel me, dear friend. +He is no lover of mine, I assure you!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, the old story again, Miriam! Have patience, my dear child." And, +strong in his belief that my change of resolution arose only from pique +and jealousy, that would soon be over, the good doctor went his way, all +the more ready to keep my secret for such conviction.</p> + +<p>I passed a miserable night. The great bed seemed to inclose me like a +sepulchre, which yet I was too feeble, too irresolute, to leave. The +conversation I had heard seemed stereotyped on plates of brass, that +rang like cymbals in my ears. Toward morning I slept. I dreamed that +mamma came to me, and said, in tones so natural that they seemed to +sound in my ears after I had awakened:</p> + +<p>"Miriam, your mother and father have sent me to say to you that they +are united and happy. I, too, have found my mate at last. It was for +this I was called. The sea has given up its dead, and I am blessed. Now, +dearest, Mabel is all yours;" and then she kissed me.</p> + +<p>I woke with that kiss upon my cheek.</p> + +<p>The brief and distinct vision made a deep impression on me. I awoke +refreshed and strengthened, as from a magnetic slumber.</p> + +<p>At first, a sense of joy alone possessed me, but soon the great bitter +burden came rolling back upon my soul, like the stone of Sisyphus, which +my sleeping soul had heaved away.</p> + +<p>It is a beautiful law of our being, that we rarely dream of that which +occupies and troubles us most in the daytime. Compensation is carried +out in this way, as in many others, insensibly, and the balance of +thought kept equal. I have heard persons complain frequently that they +could not dream of their dead, with whom their waking thoughts were ever +filled. But madness must have been the consequence, had there been no +repose for the mind from one engrossing image.</p> + +<p>Relaxation comes to us in dreams at times when the brain needs it most, +and to lose the consciousness of a sorrow is to cast off its burden for +a time, and gain new strength to bear it.</p> + +<p>I thought, when I first arose from my bed, that I would write to Claude +Bainrothe, and thus save myself the trial of an interview. But the +necessity of secrecy, in the commencement at least of the rupture, on +his own account, presented itself too forcibly to my mind to permit me +such self-indulgence. I felt assured in the first bitterness of feeling, +that he would lay my letters before Evelyn, from whom I especially +wished, for household peace, to preserve the knowledge of what had +passed in my chamber between herself and him.</p> + +<p>I had no wish either to mortify or wound the man I had loved so +tenderly, but from whom I felt now wholly severed, as though the shadow +of a grave had intervened between us.</p> + +<p>Never again, never, could he be more to me than a memory, a regret.</p> + +<p>Glaring faults, impulsive offenses, <i>crime</i> even it may be, I could have +forgiven, so long as his allegiance had been mine, and his affection +proof against change, but coldness, perfidy, loathing, such as he had +avowed, these could never be redeemed in any way, nor considered other +than they were, insuperable objections to our honorable union.</p> + +<p>My heart recoiled from him so utterly, that I could conceive of no fate +more bitter than to be compelled again to receive his profession of +affection, his lover-like caresses; yet, in recoiling, it had been +bruised against its prison-bars, bruised and crushed like a bird that +seeks refuge in the farthest limits of its cage from an approaching foe, +and suffers almost as severely as if given to its fangs.</p> + +<p>I determined, after mature consideration, to see him once again, +privately, and beyond the range of all foreign observation and hearing. +In order to do this, I might have to wait, and in the mean time how +should I deport myself, how conceal my change of feeling from his +observant eyes?</p> + +<p>I was relieved by an unlooked-for contingency. Evelyn announced her +intention of going, as soon as I should be able to spare her, with a +party of young friends, to hear a celebrated singer perform in an +oratorio in the cathedral of an adjacent city, her specialty being +vocal music, and her mourning permitting only sacred concerts. Her own +highly-cultivated voice, it is true, had ill repaid the care that had +been lavished on it, sharp and thin as it was by nature. I urged her to +set forth at once, declaring myself convalescent, but I did not leave my +room, nor see Claude Bainrothe, save for five minutes in her presence, +until after she had gone. Then I was at liberty to work my will.</p> + +<p>I wrote on the very evening of her departure, requesting him to defer +his accustomed visit, until the next morning, when I hoped to have an +hour's private conversation with him in the library, a room most dear to +me, once as the chosen haunt of my father, but shunned of late as +vault-like and melancholy, now that his ever-welcome and dear presence +was removed from it forever.</p> + +<p>Punctual as the hand to the hour or the dial to the sun, Claude +Bainrothe came at the time I had appointed, and I was there to meet him, +nerved and calm as a spirit of the past, in that great quiet sarcophagus +of books—at least, I so deceived myself to believe. I had made up my +mind, during the time I had been sitting alone in that sombre room, as +to what I would say to him, and how clearly and concisely I would array +my wrongs in words, and pronounce his sentence. But, when he came, all +this was forgotten. A tumult of wild feeling surged through my brain. My +very tongue grew icy, and trembled in my mouth. My eyes were dimmed, and +my forehead was cold and rigid. I was silent from emotion. I felt like a +dying wretch.</p> + +<p>"You are very pale, Miriam," he said, as he advanced to me with +outstretched hands, and wearing that beaming, candid, devoted look he +knew so well how to assume; "are you sure you are not going to be ill +again, my love? You must be careful of yourself, my own darling; you +must indeed, for my sake, if not your own."</p> + +<p>I was strengthened now to speak, by the indignation that possessed me, +at his perfidious words, his wholly artificial manner, which broke on me +as suddenly and as glaringly on the eye as rouge will do on a woman's +cheek in sunshine, which we have thought real bloom in shadow. I +wondered then, how I ever could have been deceived. I wonder less now.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, Mr. Bainrothe," I said, coldly, withdrawing my hands quietly +from his grasp, and recovering with my composure my strength. "Do not +concern yourself about my health, I beg. It is quite good just now, and +will probably remain so for some time. My spells occur at distant +intervals."</p> + +<p>"I know how that is, or has been; but we must try to break them up +altogether. We will go to Paris next year, and have the best advice; in +the mean time Dr. Pemberton must try some new remedy for you, or call in +counsel. On this point I am quite determined."</p> + +<p>"I am satisfied that Dr. Pemberton, who understands my constitution +thoroughly, is my best adviser. I shall decline all other medical aid," +I replied. "Nature is on my side—I am young, vigorous, growing still, +probably, in strength, and shall fling off my malady eventually, as a +strong man casts a serpent from his thigh. I have little fear on that +score. Nor do I think, with some others, that my disease is epilepsy; +though, if it were, God knows I should have little need for shame."</p> + +<p>"Miriam, what an idea! Epilepsy, indeed!" He was very nervous now, I +saw. "Epilepsy, indeed!"—he faltered again.</p> + +<p>"As to those scars, Claude," I said, fixing my eyes upon him, "they +were honorably earned in my sister's service. Your father knows the +details, which I spare your fastidious ear. I cannot wonder, however, +that they shocked you, with your previous feelings to me. I do not like +to look upon them myself, yet I have never felt them a humiliation until +now." I knew that my forehead flushed hotly as I proceeded, and my lips +trembled. The reaction was complete.</p> + +<p>"Miriam, what does all this mean?" he asked, rising suddenly from his +seat as pale as ashes, and clinging to the mantel-shelf for support as +he did so.</p> + +<p>"It means, Claude Bainrothe," I said, firmly, "it means simply this: +that our engagement is at an end; that you are free from all claims of +mine from this moment, and that henceforth we can only meet as friends +or strangers—as the first, I trust!" I stretched forth my hand toward +him kindly, irresistibly. He did not seem to notice it.</p> + +<p>"Who has done this?" he asked, huskily. "Evelyn? This is her work, I +feel; a piece of her bitter vengeance! Tell me the truth, +Miriam—who has done this devil's mischief?"</p> + +<p>He suffered greatly, I saw—was terribly excited.</p> + +<p>"So far from your surmise being just, Claude, I enjoin upon you, as a +man of honor, never to let her know the subject of this conference, in +which she has had no voluntary part. Placed as I am by my father's will, +which I never will gainsay, however bitter it may be to me; bound hand +and foot; indeed, in her power by its decisions for a term of years, her +knowledge of the fact that I had overheard her conversation with you in +my chamber when I lay stricken, helpless, if not unconscious (an +unwilling listener, I assure you, Claude, to every word you uttered), +would be a cause of endless misery to me and her. No, Evelyn has told me +nothing, believe me."</p> + +<p>He staggered back from the mantel to his chair, sat down again +helplessly, and covered his face with his hands. The blush of shame +mounted above his fingers and crimsoned the very roots of his silken +hair. He trembled visibly.</p> + +<p>O God! how I pitied him then! Self sank out of sight at that moment, and +I thought only of his confusion. Had I obeyed my impulse, I would have +cast my arms about his neck as about a brother's, and whispered, to that +stormy nature, "Peace, be still!" But I refrained from a manifestation +that might have deceived him utterly as to its source. I only said:</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry, Claude, for all this; but bear it like a man. Believe +me, no one shall ever know the occasion of this rupture—the management +of which I leave entirely in your hands. Of what I overheard I shall +never speak, I promise you, even though sorely pressed for my reasons +for our separation. My own pride would prevent such a revelation, you +know, putting principle aside." And again I extended my hand to him +frankly, with the words, "Let us be friends."</p> + +<p>He had glanced up a moment while I was speaking, evidently relieved by +my voluntary promise. He took my hand humbly now, and reverently kissed +it, bowing his head above it long and mutely.</p> + +<p>"My poor, outraged, offended, noble Miriam!" I heard him murmur at last. +The words affected me.</p> + +<p>"I am all these, Claude," I said, withdrawing my hand gently but firmly, +"but none the less your friend, if you will have it so. And now let us +think what will be best for you to do. I wish to spare your feelings as +much as possible, and I will say all I can with truth to exonerate you +in your father's eyes. Go to Copenhagen, as you proposed at one time to +do, and leave the rest to me. That will be best, I think."</p> + +<p>"To Copenhagen!" he exclaimed. "You issue thus coldly your edict of +banishment! Are you implacable then, Miriam?" and the cold dew stood in +beads on his now pallid brow as he rose before me. He had not fully +realized his situation until now.</p> + +<p>"'Implacable' is scarcely the word for this occasion, Claude. It implies +anger or hatred, it seems to me. Now, I feel neither of these—only the +truest sympathy."</p> + +<p>"Your anger, your hatred, were far more welcome, Miriam—more natural +under the circumstances. This cool philosophy in one so young is +monstrous! Mock me no longer with your calm compassion—it maddens +me—it sinks me below contempt!"</p> + +<p>He spoke gloomily, angrily, pushing away the clustering hair from his +brow in the way peculiar to him when excited, as he proceeded, stamping +slightly with his foot on the marble hearthstone in his impotent way. I +could but smile!</p> + +<p>"I will not offend you further, Claude," I said, mildly. "Receive your +ring;" and I gave him back the diamond cross on a black enamel ground +set on its circle of gold that he had placed upon my finger as a pledge +of our betrothal; an ominous one, surely—for another cross was now to +be borne.</p> + +<p>"Understand me distinctly, Claude, all is finally at an end between us +from this forever more! And now, farewell!"</p> + +<p>"Go, Miriam, go!" he murmured. "Leave me to my fate—I have deserved it +all, and more. I have been weak and wicked—you shall not find me +ungrateful. Go, queenly spirit! go, soul of tenderness, pity, and most +unselfish faith, that ever folded its wings in human breast! go, and +find a fitter mate! For me, the world is wide, I shall offend your gaze +no more."</p> + +<p>Without another word I left him. I could not trust myself to speak. Too +much of the past returned to render any further intercourse between us +wise, or other than torture at that season. Besides, my confidence in +him was gone forever, and with it had vanished respect, esteem, +affection!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="I_CHAPTER_VI"></a><h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"What is this Claude is talking of, Miriam?" asked Mr. Bainrothe a day +or two after the interview I have described in my last pages. +"Copenhagen again—and he seems quite dispirited. He says you have sent +him into banishment for a year, Miriam—a long probation truly!"</p> + +<p>"Our engagement was to have been for that length of time from the +first," I said, evasively; "my father was not willing for me to marry +before I had attained my seventeenth year, you remember, and it still +wants some months of that period."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! but all that is changed now by the force of circumstances. You +are so well grown, so very womanly for your age, that I cannot see why +it would not be just as well to shorten rather than lengthen the period +of your engagement, especially as it seems Claude must go into exile +until then, by some caprice of yours. You will be at the head of your +own house too, after that ceremony takes place, which Claude is so +impatient to have over. Evelyn would go to England for a time under such +circumstances, for she will not oppose your views—your father's will +was made before your betrothal to my son, or he would scarcely have made +her your absolute guardian" (apologetically spoken). "For the matter of +that," he pursued, "I cannot doubt that, were you settled in life, she +would gladly transfer Mabel to your care. Indeed, I have heard her say +as much."</p> + +<p>"A great temptation, truly!" I said, grimly.</p> + +<p>"Your manner is peculiar to-day, Miriam. I cannot understand it, I +confess."</p> + +<p>"For all explanation, Mr. Bainrothe, I refer you to your son. I prefer +not to discuss the matter."</p> + +<p>"Ah! it is just as I expected, from his behavior as well as your own. +Some childish misunderstanding has taken place between you, which, he +was loath to acknowledge or explain, but which in your womanly candor +you will reveal at once, and tell me all about it. I am the very best +mediator you ever saw on such occasions," with a bland and confident +air, taking my hand, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bainrothe, your mediation could effect nothing between me and +Claude; we understand one another perfectly, I assure you."</p> + +<p>He was very much excited now, evidently; he relinquished my unwilling +hand coldly—on which he had, doubtless, missed the conspicuous ring, +significant of my engagement. His chameleon eyes seemed to emit sparks +of phosphorescent fire, as if every one of the dull-yellow sparks +therein had become suddenly ignited. I saw then, for the first time, +what his ire could be, and what reason I had to dread it.</p> + +<p>"Have I been deceived in believing that you were attached to my son, +Miriam Monfort, and that you meant to keep faith with him?" he asked, +stiffly.</p> + +<p>"You have not been deceived, Mr. Bainrothe, nor is it my wish to deceive +you now. Again I beg to refer you to him for all explanation; whatever +he alleges will be highly satisfactory to me."</p> + +<p>"I will bet my life," he said, passionately, "that Evelyn Erle is at the +root of all this! That girl," he soliloquized, "who knew so well, from +the first, what our intentions were; to throw herself at his head in the +shameless way she did! A woman, without a woman's modesty."</p> + +<p>"Beware, Mr. Bainrothe," I interrupted; "it is of my sister you speak. I +will not hear her slandered. Certainly, if propriety ever assumed female +form, it is in that of Evelyn Erie. This was my father's opinion—it is +mine."</p> + +<p>"Propriety! The pale ghost of it rather," he sneered; "I thought you +hated hypocrisy; you do not love that woman—have little right to; yet +you praise and defend her. How is this! Are you sincere in such a +course? Ask your own heart."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bainrothe, let us not discuss Evelyn, I beg, either now or +hereafter; for some reason she is very sacred to me. I cannot say one +word more on the subject of your son than I have said, without his own +consent. As to our marriage, let me tell you frankly—" I hesitated—the +stricture of my throat, for a moment, interrupted me, and I was ashamed +of my weakness.</p> + +<p>"That it is indefinitely postponed, I suppose you would like to say, +Miriam," he added, ironically. "Well, I honor your emotion; don't be +ashamed of it. Claude is to blame, no doubt; but the poor fellow suffers +enough already, without prolonged punishment. Suppose I send him up to +you; he will fall at your feet."</p> + +<p>I shook my head silently.</p> + +<p>"Now, don't be hard-hearted; I have never seen any man more devoted +than he is to you. A woman must forgive a few shortcomings, now and +then, in one of our faulty sex. You lived so long with a man who was +almost perfect, that you cannot make allowances for impulsive and +indiscreet young manhood. What has poor Claude been guilty of?"</p> + +<p>"I will tell you," I said, recovering myself by the time this speech was +ended, by a mighty effort. "I will tell you: Guilty only of doing +violence to his own inclinations, from a mistaken sense of duty to his +father; that is all. I never felt more kindly—more affectionately to +Claude Bainrothe than at this moment. If I can serve him in any way, but +one, he may always command me. Let him go for the present to Copenhagen, +I implore you; it will be best for him—for all of us. He will know his +own mind better then, than he can now. When he returns, I would like to +see him happy. I doubt if he will be so, if he remains here," I +faltered; "I should dislike, very much, to see him make shipwreck of his +happiness." I hesitated, choked again. "I acknowledge—"</p> + +<p>"You have cut him off, Miriam, that is plain, for the present, at +least," he interrupted. "Yet you speak in enigmas; but, if he be the man +I think he is, he will make all clear to you at last, for I am sure he +is incapable of any act radically wrong, and is the soul of chivalrous +honor; always ready to repair a folly, and avoid it in future. The very +best fellow living."</p> + +<p>I had never seen Mr. Bainrothe so moved before as he now certainly was. +The glitter of a tear was in his mottled eye, and it stirred me +strangely. It was as if a snake should weep, and what in Nature could be +more affecting than such a spectacle? Or, rather, what <i>out</i> of Nature?</p> + +<p>There must have been, despite this tender showing, an outbreak of some +sort between father and son from the time of this call and the next +visit of Mr. Bainrothe, which occurred some days later.</p> + +<p>The expression of concentrated rage on his face was unmistakable on this +occasion. Its usually placid, polished expression was laid aside, for +one of unqualified displeasure. He was pale as marble too, which was a +sign of excitement with him, with his complexion, usually clear and +florid.</p> + +<p>"Again I come to you, Miriam," he said, "and this time with his +permission to mediate between you and my unhappy son. Believe me, you +attach too much consequence to hasty and half-comprehended expressions, +uttered, as he avers, to appease the offended vanity of an angry and +implacable—ay, and dangerous woman. There are few things a man will not +say for such a purpose. He went too far in his anxiety to conciliate +malice, and allay an evil temper. This is all that can be imputed to +him. Be reasonable, my dear girl! you are alone in the world; we are +your truest friends. It shall be our study—mine, as well as his—to +guard your life from every care, every anxiety even—precaution so +necessary in your case, and with your peculiar constitution. You love my +son, or have loved him—in this I could not be mistaken—and his +affection for you is sincere and unaffected, despite the concessions a +designing woman, who conceives herself slighted, has wrung from his +unwary lips, on purpose to mar his prospects, and blight your happiness, +I well believe."</p> + +<p>"No, no, there was no design of this kind on her part, of that I am +sure. She could not—did not know that I overheard them. You must do her +justice there—I trust she may never know it. Claude promised me—"</p> + +<p>"I know, I know—it was with this understanding," he interrupted, "that +he confided to me the extent of his indiscretion, for which I have rated +him soundly, I assure you. Evelyn is not to know that you overheard +them. This is the compact—a very sensible and politic one on your part, +under the circumstances, for Evelyn, we all know, is, excuse me my dear, +the devil, when fairly aroused. Now, as to this overhearing of +yours—might not your mind, laboring under recent coma, and a sort of +mental mirage as it were, have had a tendency to magnify and only +partially comprehend the conversation thus suddenly forced upon your +attention? For I understand you were unable to make yourself heard at +all, or even to give signs of life when the curtains of your bed were +lifted by the interlocutors."</p> + +<p>"This last is true—but that I could not have been mistaken, Claude's +own admissions confirm. He denied nothing that I suggested—much was +left by me unquestioned."</p> + +<p>"Yes," catching wildly at this straw, "he finds himself quite in the +dark still, I perceive—as to the accusations brought against him; +suppose you make your charges one by one, as it were in the shape of +specifications?"</p> + +<p>"There are no charges, no accusations brought—nothing of that sort," I +said, proudly; "and I must entreat that from this hour, Mr. Bainrothe, +this subject be dropped between us utterly. It is wholly unprofitable, +believe me."</p> + +<p>"You are a person of extraordinary obduracy," he said, "for one of your +years. I should like to know how much the Stanbury influence has had to +do with strengthening your unwise, unamiable, and stiff-necked +resolution! If I were Claude Bainrothe, I should lay heavy damages +against you in the courts of law, for your unjustifiable evasion of a +formal contract—one your father sanctioned, one of which all your +friends are and were cognizant and proud, and which has subjected him, +in its rupture, to so much distress and mortification; nay, even as I +can prove, pecuniary loss."</p> + +<p>"If <i>money</i> can repay your son Claude, for any wrong I have done him, he +is welcome to a portion of mine," I said, deeply disgusted, "without +intervention of law—painful exposure of any kind. I cherish for him, +however, even yet, too much regard and respect to believe him capable of +such proceedings. The idea is worthy of the mind it springs from—worthy +of the author of all this sorrow and confusion—worthy of Mr. Basil +Bainrothe, the arch-conspirator himself."</p> + +<p>He turned upon me with clinched hands and blazing eyes. "You shall +answer for these words, girl! if not now, years hence," he said; "the +seed of your insult has been thrown on fertile soil, I promise you!" and +he laughed bitterly.</p> + +<p>"I do not fear you," I replied; all disguise was thrown off—it was war +to the knife between us now; "never have—never can, in spite of your +unmanly threats. Evelyn must protect me henceforth from any further +contact with you, however, until I am of age to take in hand my own +affairs; Evelyn Erie, my guardian, and your fellow-executor, owes me +this safeguard. I trust, Mr. Bainrothe, we shall meet no more."</p> + +<p>I left the room—left him in possession of the library, in which he +paced up and down for an hour or more, like a caged panther. There was a +sealed note for me in his handwriting, under the massive paper-weight on +the table, when I entered it again, which he had written and left there +before his departure. It ran thus—for I read it derisively, and +remember its contents still:</p> + +<p>"We have both been wrong, dear Miriam. I, as the elder and more +experienced offender—therefore, the more responsible one—claim it as +my privilege to be the first to atone. I cannot think, from what I know +of you, that you will be long in following my example. Let us forgive +one another. Fate has thrown us together, and we must not afford a +malicious world the spectacle of our inconsistency, or the satisfaction +of seeing us quarrel, after so many years of harmony.</p> + +<p>"As to Claude, you and he must settle your own matters. I wash my hands +of the whole transaction from this hour, supposing that common-sense +will triumph at last, and reconcile your differences.</p> + +<p>"Yours as ever, truly and devotedly,</p> + +<p>"BASIL BAINROTHE."</p> + +<p>I did not answer this note—I could not discreetly, although I tried to +do so several times. I could not conquer sufficiently my deep disgust of +his insupportable behavior to respond kindly, at that time, to any +overture of Mr. Bainrothe's, nor did I wish to write one rude word to +him in connection with so delicate a subject as that of our late +discussion.</p> + +<p>He came no more until after Evelyn's return, and then only on necessary +business; inquiring for her alone, and holding on such occasions secret +conclaves with her invariably in the library. Whenever we met casually, +however, whether in the street or my own house, he was polite and easy +in his deportment, even gracious.</p> + +<p>With Claude it was otherwise; he avoided me sedulously, and, although I +have reason to think he met and joined Evelyn frequently, and even by +appointment in her long walks, he never called to see her or paid her +open attentions. Yet I found that he had followed my counsels.</p> + +<p>A day or two before he sailed for Copenhagen to join the legation in +Denmark, an exception to this rule of avoidance was made by both father +and son, who came in as had been usual with them in other days, +informally, in the evening.</p> + +<p>This was Claude's farewell visit—a very unpleasant necessity evidently +on his part. I was unconstrained in the cordiality with which I received +both his father and himself—for it was heart-felt on this occasion. Old +feelings came back to me so vividly that night, and my own dear father +seemed so visibly recalled by the presence once more of our unbroken +circle, that I lost sight, for a season, of my wrongs and sufferings in +the memory of the past, and broke temporarily through the cloud that +oppressed me and dimmed my existence.</p> + +<p>I saw Mr. Bainrothe gazing at me several times, in the course of his +visit, with an expression of interest and surprise.</p> + +<p>He had expected very different manifestations, no doubt, and he told +Evelyn afterward that "no woman of thirty could have carried off matters +with a higher hand than did that chit of sixteen, Miriam Monfort."</p> + +<p>"All that talk of yours, Miriam, about 'Hamlet,' 'Elsinore,' +'Wittenberg,' and the 'fiery Dane,' probably imposed on those two +unsophisticated men; but I saw through the whole proceeding; you were +afraid of yourself, my dear, that was evident, and ashamed, as you ought +to have been, of your capricious conduct to poor Claude, who shows, +however, as uncompromising a spirit as your own, I perceive. What <i>was</i> +the matter, Miriam? I can get nothing out of him, and I have waited, +until my patience is exhausted, for a voluntary communication from you."</p> + +<p>"Why have you not asked me before, Evelyn?" I questioned, calmly, in +reply. "You have shown more than your usual forbearance, on this +occasion."</p> + +<p>"My dear child, 'Least said is soonest mended,' is proverbial in +quarrels of all kinds. I have no wish to pry or play mischief-maker, +and, if Mr. Basil Bainrothe with his diplomatic talents could do nothing +to mend the difficulty, I had no right to suppose that I could succeed +better, with my very direct, straightforward disposition."</p> + +<p>"You were right, Evelyn, certainly, in your conclusion, and, if you +please, will never ask for any explanation of the breach between Claude +and myself. It is irrevocable; but I am sorry to see him so resentful. +He cannot conceal his displeasure against me, and yet I have never +offended him willingly, I am sure."</p> + +<p>"Caprice and coquetry are not so lightly estimated by every one, as you +hold them, nor yet counted causes for gratitude by most men, let me +assure you, Miriam."</p> + +<p>"Who has accused me of these?" I questioned, with a flashing eye, a +flushing cheek.</p> + +<p>"Does your own heart acquit you?" she asked, evasively.</p> + +<p>"It does," I answered, solemnly, "as does the God who reads all hearts, +and to whom I am now alone answerable for any motives of mine."</p> + +<p>"Since when have you grown so independent, Miriam?" she asked, +ironically.</p> + +<p>"Since the death of my father," I replied.</p> + +<p>"Ah! you do not accredit delegated allegiance it seems," turning her +face aside.</p> + +<p>"Not as far as my own feelings and their sources are concerned. As to my +acts, I hope never to commit one of which all just men might not +approve."</p> + +<p>"We shall see. However, a year more or less makes little difference. +Claude Bainrothe, improved, will return within a year, probably, and all +may still be well. Matters will then, I fancy, be in his own hands, +pretty much.</p> + +<p>"All <i>is</i> well, Evelyn, if you could only think so, and now, once for +all, make up your mind, definitely, to let <i>well</i> alone, for I must not +be approached again on this subject, I warn you!"</p> + +<p>I spoke with a decision which, at times, had its effect even on the +"indomitable Evelyn," as my father often had called her, playfully, and +again the broken engagement was consigned to silence.</p> + +<p>Yet on my mind, my feelings, the effect of this severe and sudden trial +was far more bitter and profound than met the outward eye.</p> + +<p>I had been sustained at first by a sense of pride, self-respect, and +womanly indignation, that prevented me from feeling the whole extent of +the wound I had received; but with reaction came that dull, dumb, aching +of the heart, which all who have felt it may recognize as more wearing +than keener pain, or more declared suffering.</p> + +<p>I suppose the Spartan who felt the gnawing of the hidden fox was a mere +type of this species of anguish, which reproduces itself wherever +wounded pride underlies concealment, or wherever injustice and +ingratitude render us uncomplaining through a sense of moral dignity.</p> + +<p>The first six months succeeding my rupture with Claude Bainrothe went +by like a leaden dream. My heart lay like a stone in my bosom, and the +gloss had dropped from life, and the glory from the face of Nature for +me, in that dreary interval, as though I had grown suddenly old.</p> + +<p>In routine, in occupation alone, I found relief and companionship. I +compelled myself to teach Mabel, and pursue my own studies, lest my mind +should fall back on my body, and destroy both.</p> + +<p>A nervous peculiarity manifested itself about this time, that was +singularly distressing to me, and which I confided to no one, not even +that excellent physician who kept a quiet and observant eye fixed upon +me during all this period of my probation.</p> + +<p>I became nervously but not mentally convinced of the want of substance +in every thing around me, and have repeatedly risen and crossed the +room, and touched an article on the opposite side, to compel my better +judgment to the conviction that it was indeed tangible and substantial, +and not the merest shadow of a shade.</p> + +<p>I was sustained in my resolution to conquer this besetting weakness, +from a vague horror and fear that, should I suffer it to gain further +ascendency, I might fall back into habitual lethargies, and, remembering +what Dr. Pemberton had said, I was determined, if possible, to throw off +that incubus of my being, by the strength of my own will, aided by God's +mercy.</p> + +<p>There were no uttered prayers to this effect, that I remember, but an +unceasing cry for strength, for light, went up from my heart, as +continuously as the waters of a fountain, to the ear of my Creator. I +have thought sometimes that, in this persistent wrestle of mind with +matter, enduring so many weeks and months, so many weary, woful days +and sleepless nights, the physical demon was exorcised at last, that had +ruled my life so long, or was reduced to feeble efforts thereafter.</p> + +<p>Once when Dr. Pemberton's attendance had been necessary to me, during a +severe spell of pleurisy, he said when I was recovering: "There is some +favorable change at work in your constitution, Miriam, it seems to me. +We hear no more of the 'obliteration spells,'" for thus he called my +seizures.</p> + +<p>"Your drops have banished them, dear doctor, I suppose," I rejoined, +with a faint smile.</p> + +<p>"They may have aided to do so," he said, gravely, "but I think I have +observed, Miriam, that you were doing good work lately for yourself. You +have been struggling manfully, my little girl. Now, I am going for +recreation to Magara, and the Northern cities, for a few weeks, next +month, and I want you to go with me, in aid of this effort of yours. +Quite alone, with Charity as sole attendant. My niece will be with me—a +good, quiet girl, you know, some years older than yourself, and also in +feeble health; and I will see that you are both well taken care of, +medically at least, while you are absent. How would you like this, +Miriam," patting my shoulder, "just for a change?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, very much!" I said, eagerly. "Yes, I will go gladly, in this quiet +way, for I do not wish to visit gay places, or to make strange +acquaintance, under the circumstances. My deep mourning must be +respected, you know, and—" I hesitated; looked in his kind, +sympathizing face; then hid mine on his shoulder—weeping. The first +tears of relief I had shed for months.</p> + +<p>He did not check me, for he knew full well the value of this outlet of +feeling, to one situated as I was, physically as well as mentally.</p> + +<p>"I would offer to take Mabel," he added, after a time, "were I not +solemnly convinced that it would be better for you both that she should +stay here. Mrs. Austin seems necessary to her very existence; and that +old woman is your vampire, I verily believe."</p> + +<p>"No, no, she is very good, indeed. You are mistaken."</p> + +<p>"No, I am not mistaken. There are persons who do sack away, +unconsciously, the very life of others, from some peculiarity of +organization in both. I have strong faith in this theory. I have been +obliged sometimes to decree the separation of wife and husband for a +time, to save the life of one or the other; of mother and child even. +Every time you fall ill, I believe Mrs. Austin gains strength and energy +at your expense. She absorbs your nervous fluid. It was from this +conviction that I requested you two years ago to change your room, +which, until then, she had shared on the pretence of your necessities, +and to substitute a younger and less sponge-like attendant. You remember +the stress I laid on this?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, one of your crotchets, dear doctor, nothing else. You are +full of such vagaries—always were—but there is not another such dear +old willful physician in Christendom for all that."</p> + +<p>"Little flatterer! But here is a piece of cassava bread, I brought you, +as you thought you would like to taste it. My old West Indian patient +keeps me well supplied. I fancy to nibble it as I drive about in my +cabriolet, or whatever they call this French affair of mine."</p> + +<p>"For a wonder, you have the word right;" and I laughed in his honest +face.</p> + +<p>"I am going to France, next spring, when the Stanburys go over, just to +see what strides medicine is making across the waters, and to rest +myself a little, improve my Gallic pronunciation, and get the fashions, +and I will take you as my interpreter, if you promise to be very good +and obedient in the interval."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you; I would like it of all things. But what takes the +Stanburys abroad? I have heard nothing of this plan of theirs before."</p> + +<p>"Pleasure and business combined, I believe. They will remain abroad some +years, for the education of George Gaston. What an idol Mrs. Stanbury is +making of that boy, to be sure, and Laura is just as foolish about him +as her mother! By-the-by, she is to be married, they say, to that young +Prussian nobleman, who was there so much last winter. I forget his +unpronounceable name. They will reside in Berlin, I understand, should +the marriage be '<i>unfait accompli</i>,' as the French have it. Is not that +right, Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, admirably pronounced! You are becoming quite a Gaul in your old +age."</p> + +<p>"I hope I shall never become gall and wormwood, in any event, like some +old folks. Now, is not that being literal, Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"And witty, as well! You must have been associating with Dr. C——n, +lately."</p> + +<p>"So you can't give me credit for a little originality, because my +facetious vein is new to you. Now, do your old friend justice, and +believe even in his puns; if not pungent, he is self-sustaining and +independent; but, remember, I count on you absolutely, next week. One +trunk apiece and no bandboxes or baskets. A green-silk travelling-bonnet +and pongee habit. This is my uniform, for my female guard. Carry Grey +knows my whims, and will observe them. By-the-by, you will like my +niece."</p> + +<p>We made a delightful tour, which occupied the whole month of August, and +I came back refreshed, soul and body; as for Carry Grey, she revived, +like a plant that had been newly tended and watered after long neglect. +For the poor girl had been making a slave of herself for two years in +her widowed brother's household, consisting of many little children, and +needed repose from her multifarious duties.</p> + +<p>He was going to marry again soon, she told me, and then she hoped to +feel at liberty to fulfill her own engagement of five years' standing. +Carry Grey was quite this many years over twenty-one, and was going to +emigrate with her husband to Missouri, and to settle in the thriving +young town of St. Louis, fast growing up then into a city. He was to +have a church there, and they might be so happy, she thought, if God +only smiled upon them! But all depended upon that.</p> + +<p>It was a wholesome lesson to my morbid discontent and pride to hear what +trials she had surmounted already, and how many more she was ready to +encounter.</p> + +<p>She had once been engaged to a very brilliant young man, she told me, +but he was dissipated and careless of her feelings, and she let him go; +since that he had drifted fast to destruction, and sometimes she +reproached herself for not having held to him through thick and thin. It +was just possible she might have saved him, she thought, but her friends +had persuaded her that he would only drag her down, and so she broke +with him forever.</p> + +<p>"Did he love you?" I asked, eagerly. "Were you sure that he was not +perfidious?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I believe he was true to me—however false to himself."</p> + +<p>"Then you were wrong," I said. "Wrong, believe me. Carry Grey! A woman +should bear every thing but infidelity of heart for the man she +loves—every thing!"</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to hear you say so," she replied, somewhat coldly. "There is +a great deal more than blind affection needful for a woman's happiness, +Miss Monfort—so experience tells us. What I mean is, perhaps he <i>might</i> +have reformed had I not broken with him; but it was the <i>merest</i> +chance—one too feeble to depend on; and I did wisely to discard him, I +am convinced."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me! I did not mean to censure you," I said; "I was only +speaking generally—too generally, perhaps, for individual courtesy. +This is a theory of mine which as yet I have had no opportunity to put +in practice, for I have never been attached to a dissipated man." I +smiled. "I dare say I too should drop such a man like a pestilence."</p> + +<p>"I hope so. But the best way is to avoid all intimacy with such men from +the first. You are very young. Let me give you my advice on this subject +before you form any attachment: keep your affections for a worthy +object, if you keep them locked up forever. Better be alone than +mismated."</p> + +<p>"This is to shut the cage after the bird has flown," I thought, sadly; +but I thanked her, and promised to profit by her good counsel.</p> + +<p>We were fast friends ever after, and, when she went away to her distant +Western home, Carry Ormsby bore some memorials of her summer friend away +with her, in the shape of books, plate, and jewels, such as her simple +means could have ill afforded. I felt that I could not have devised any +means more sure to gratify her worthy uncle, to whom such gifts had been +dross. He was a widower—the father of sons—indifferent to show, and, +besides that, unwilling to incur obligations from any one, such as gifts +entail on some minds.</p> + +<p>There are persons made to give and others to receive, and neither can do +the work of the other gracefully. He and I were both of the same order, +so we accorded perfectly.</p> + +<p>The autumn and winter passed very quietly. In Mrs. Stanbury and Laura I +again found my chief consolation. George Gaston was in the South, for +his health, on his own decayed plantation, with his uncle, who took +charge of it. But, in the spring, as Dr. Pemberton had stated, they were +all to go to Europe for some years. Laura would be married in Paris, if +at all. Every thing depended on some investigations Mr. Gerald Stanbury +was to make in person as to the character and position of her betrothed. +"For a Prussian nobleman may be a Prussian boot-black for aught I know," +he observed, "and without derogation to his dignity, no doubt, in that +land of pipes and fiddlers. But an American sovereign requires something +better than that when he gives away the hand of the princess, his +relative, and endows her with a goodly dowry. Every man, we feel, is a +king in America."</p> + +<p>Our circle of society was much enlarged by Evelyn after our first year +of mourning had expired. She insisted on taking me with her in turn to +Washington, Boston, and Saratoga Springs, then at their acme of fashion. +Mr. Bainrothe, who had by this time glided back into his old grooves of +apparent sociability in our household, accompanied us, and did all in +his power, it seemed, to promote our enjoyment and success.</p> + +<p>Yet it was astonishing what an icy barrier still remained between us +two, and how perfectly I managed, without a conscious effort, to set a +limit to his approaches, even while treating him with apparent courtesy +and confidence.</p> + +<p>Something in his eye, his manner, had become extremely unpleasant to me +since our social relations had been resumed. There was a controlled +ardor in his expression of face and even in his demeanor that I could +not reconcile with his position toward me nor understand, and yet which +froze my blood in spite of my best endeavors to repel the thoughts +suggested.</p> + +<p>"I am very morbid and fanciful, certainly," I said to myself, "even to +think such a thing possible. At his age, and knowing full well my +opinion of him, my sentiments toward him—he surely would not dare—!" I +could not even in my own heart finish out a conjecture that dyed my face +and throat crimson, or mahogany-color, as Evelyn would have averred +contemptuously could she have witnessed my solitary confusion.</p> + +<p>"I have clung to him too much," I thought; "it is my own fault if he +throws too much of the tone of tenderness in his manner, when, +distasteful as he is to me, his arm, his protection, have seemed to me +preferable to those of a stranger, and I have accepted them merely to +avoid the advances of others.</p> + +<p>"I am not in the mood to be sentimental, or susceptible either, after my +bitter experience, and the idea he so carefully instills is ever present +to me—strive as I will to repel it—the thought that I am sought +alone for my fortune!</p> + +<p>"Yet I am not wholly unattractive, probably, though less beautiful than +Evelyn. But what, after all, is beauty? Plainer women than I are loved +and sought in marriage, who possess no gift of fortune or +accomplishment.</p> + +<p>"Why should I suffer him to fill my mind with suspicions that embitter +it against all approaches? Why should I seal my soul away in endless +gloom, because one man, out of all Adam's race, was faithless and +falsehearted?"</p> + +<p>Thus reasoning, I gained strength and self-reliance to receive other +attentions and mingle with the multitude. Nor should I have known to +what extent Mr. Bainrothe had carried his injustice and perfidy toward +me, but for the loquacity of Lieutenant Raymond, a young adorer of mine, +who revealed to me, the very evening before I left Saratoga, along with +his passion—a hopeless one of course, which, but for this connection, +would not be noted here—the strategic course of my guardian.</p> + +<p>"I ought to have been warned, by what I saw and heard, that my suit was +a hopeless one," he said; "I had been told of your engagement, but could +not believe it possible, although confirmed by Mr. Bainrothe's manner. A +rival of his age and experience, possessed too of such physical +attractions, and such charm of manner, seldom fails to carry the day +over a raw, impulsive youth—who can only adore—bow down and worship +his idol, and who possesses no arts of conquest."</p> + +<p>"Pause there, Lieutenant Raymond; of what are you speaking?" I asked, +coldly; "you have probably confounded matters, names, and—"</p> + +<p>"No, no, it is all too evident now to admit of a doubt I You are +affianced to Mr. Bainrothe—your own timid and dependent manner might +have enlightened me long ago, as well as his devoted one—but a man in +love is blinder than the blindest bat even! He is the maddest fool +certainly! Forgive me for my presumption, and forget it if you can;" +and he turned away, smiting his brow impatiently.</p> + +<p>I laid my hand on his arm—I drew it down from his face again, which he +turned upon me with an expression of surprise. I felt that I was pale +with rage and scorn as he looked at me. He misunderstood my feelings +evidently, for he said, earnestly: "I am sorry to have caused you so +much pain, Miss Monfort! I was premature, I have been indiscreet in my +remarks. Your engagement is surely no concern of mine. I should have +confined myself to my own disappointment exclusively, and respected your +reserve;" adding, "I beg that you will pardon and look less angrily upon +me, in this our parting."</p> + +<p>"I am not offended with you, Mr. Raymond." (His boyish passion had, +indeed, swept over me as lightly as the wing of a butterfly across a +rose. I felt that it amounted to nothing but pastime on either hand—a +careless throw of the dice on his part, that might, or might not, have +resulted to his advantage. He probably staked but little feeling in the +enterprise—I certainly none at all.)—"I am not angry with you, +Lieutenant Raymond, nay, grateful rather for your impulsive homage, +which I regret not to be able to reward as you deserve; but this you +must tell me, as a true, as an honorable man, if you care one iota for +my regard, or the cause of truth and justice: what has that man been +saying about me?" And I laid my hand upon his arm and shook it slightly.</p> + +<p>"What man, Miss Monfort? I—I, scarcely understand you! You surely do +not mean Mr. Bainrothe—your—"</p> + +<p>"Guardian, nothing more, scarcely that," I interrupted, almost fiercely; +thus finishing out his sentence as he probably might not have done. +"Answer me truthfully, honorably, as you are a gentleman, has he +propagated this vile slander, for as such I feel it, and as such shall +resent it?"</p> + +<p>"I do, do—not know positively—but I have reason to think that, either +directly or indirectly, the rumor comes from him. You know some men have +a way of insinuating things. I—I—cannot recall any thing positive or +definite. I cannot, indeed. He never spoke to me on the subject at all. +There was only an expression at times, as he bore you off, that seemed +to tell me that all my efforts to win you were vain. I can't see why you +lay such stress on the matter at all, Miss Monfort."</p> + +<p>He had evidently the gentleman's true reluctance to make mischief.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Raymond, I simply dislike to be placed in a false position, +or grossly misinterpreted or misrepresented. Do you see that unfortunate +person there?" I asked suddenly, "with his head drawn completely to one +side, and his arms and legs swathed in flannel bandages, hobbling feebly +along, followed by a youth (a relation, probably, bearing a camp-stool) +and a dingy little terrier-dog, on his way to the pool of Bethesda?" As +if he knew that he was the object of our attention, the man alluded to +stopped, and turned just then a face grotesquely hideous in our +direction, and, seeing me, smiled, and nodded feebly—disclosing, as he +did so, long, fang-like teeth, yellow, as if cut from lemon-rind, and +fantastically irregular.</p> + +<p>"You have the oddest acquaintance, Miss Monfort, for a young lady of +fashion, certainly! This old man keeps a little one-horse book-store +somewhere, I am told, and makes it his constant theme of conversation."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he has his hobby, like more distinguished men. I have known him +from my childhood, however, and esteem him truly. He kept the choicest +collection of children's books I ever saw in former days, and was a +child at heart himself, and an especial crony of mine. But I have other +reasons for asking you to remark him now. He is old, diseased, and poor; +yet, just as good and honorable as he is, I would rather put my hand in +his as betrothed or married a thousand-fold, than become the wife of +Basil Bainrothe. Repeat this, if you please, whenever you hear this very +unpleasant and absurd report and subject agitated. It will be a simple +act of justice to me, and a tribute to truth, such as I am sure you will +be pleased to render and illustrate."</p> + +<p>"I will do so," he said, quietly; "but I confess, you surprise me. I +have always refused to give credit to the matter myself, blinded, I was +assured, by my own impetuosity, but I acknowledge this engagement is +very generally canvassed and believed at Saratoga; nor has Miss Erie in +any instance refuted the impression. Of this I am quite certain, and +deem it my duty now to tell you so."</p> + +<p>"Is it possible," I thought, "that this can be one of Evelyn's subtle +schemes, reacting on Mr. Bainrothe? The father for me, the son for +herself! My God! the grave would be preferable to me, to marriage with +either one or the other, the loathed or the loathing! O papa, papa! why +was I ever placed in hands like these? It must be so sweet, so +delightful, to trust and love one's associates, whether natural or +accidental! I feel as if Fate had raised up for me this band of mocking +fiends, to guard me from my kind, and mar my happiness. Day by day I +hate and distrust them more and more—nay, learn to tremble through them +at myself."</p> + +<p>"You are silent. Miss Monfort," he said; "will you not bid me a kind, a +pardoning farewell?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, surely, Mr. Raymond; and let me beg that, when you are near me, you +will come freely to my house. I shall be most happy to entertain you." +And I gave him my hand, frankly.</p> + +<p>"One word more, Miss Monfort. Are you engaged to any other and more +fortunate man than Mr. Bainrothe and myself? Is it for another's sake +you have felt so very indignant? Forgive a sailor's frankness, and a +sailor's interest, even if bestowed in vain. I fear you will add to +these, a sailor's undue curiosity."</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Raymond, neither engaged nor likely to be. But hinge no hope on +this declaration of mine. I am probably destined to walk through life +alone, and, like many better women, to live for the good of others, in +self-defense, if for good at all. I shall never marry, Lieutenant +Raymond."</p> + +<p>The hand that held mine, trembled slightly, relaxed, relinquished its +eager hold, and fell listlessly to his side. He believed me, evidently, +as I believed myself.</p> + +<p>"I have loved you," he said, hoarsely, "far more than you will ever +understand. Do not forget me!"</p> + +<p>"That is scarcely probable," I murmured; "but we shall meet again," and +I spoke cheerfully and aloud, "and under happier auspices, I trust. The +world is fair before you, Mr. Raymond; this much let me counsel, and the +counsel is drawn from experience: do not surrender your freedom too +lightly—it is a precious gift to man or woman, and those who drag +broken fetters wear woful hearts. Farewell!"</p> + +<p>We left Saratoga on the following day. It was autumn when we reached our +home again—sad and strange September—my birth-month, and the grave of +many hopes. Mabel was well, and finely grown for a child of her years; +and the joy of seeing her, and holding her to my heart again, made me +oblivious of all else for a season. After our brief separation even, her +loveliness struck me afresh. How beautiful she was! not with the white +radiance of Evelyn, but lovely as a young May rose, blushing among its +leaves and peerless in grace, sweetness, and expression. She had her +sainted mother's great blue, soulful eyes, with finer features and more +brilliant coloring, and her father's gleaming teeth and clustering hair, +"brown in the shadow, gold in the sun," falling, like his, over a brow +of sculptured ivory. I was not alone in my appreciation of her +loveliness. It was a theme of universal remark. Even Mr. Bainrothe, who +could never forgive my father for having married his children's +governess, confessed that she had the "air noble," which he valued far +above beauty. "And where she got it from, Miriam, is sufficiently +plain," he said, one day, glancing at me with undisguised admiration as +he spoke. "Her mother was simple and unpretending enough, Heaven above +knows, but you Monforts, and you, especially, Miriam, are truly +<i>distingué</i>, which is a word that cannot often be justly applied in any +land to man or woman either."</p> + +<p>"By-the-by, Miriam," he continued, "you are growing into a very +beautiful woman, after a somewhat unpromising childhood. You surpass +Evelyn as rubies do garnets, or diamonds <i>aqua marine</i>, or sapphires the +opaque turquoise. You do, indeed, my dear," and he attempted to take my +hand in the old fashion. I murmured something indicative of my +disapprobation.</p> + +<p>"It is an exquisite hand!" he remarked, as I coldly drew it away; "I +have an artist's eye, and can admire beauty in the abstract, even though +I am an old man, you know."</p> + +<p>"Admire it also at a distance, I beg, hereafter," I said, bowing coldly, +smiling very bitterly, I fear, with lips white with anger and disgust.</p> + +<p>"Those scars, Miriam!" he went on, as if unobservant of my manner, yet +with the old sarcastic gleam in his eyes, in the most audacious way, +"have nearly disappeared, have they not? I think I understood so from +Dr. Pemberton. Let me see that on your arm, my dear," and he extended +his hand to grasp it.</p> + +<p>"They are indelible, Mr. Bainrothe," I replied, folding my arms tightly +above my heart, "as are some other impressions; never allude to them +again, I request you. It offends me." And I left him, coldly and +abruptly.</p> + +<p>I give this little scene only as a specimen of his occasional behavior +at this period, and of the humiliation to which his presence so often +subjected me. But matters had not yet culminated.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="I_CHAPTER_VII"></a><h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Evelyn's fortune and Mabel's were, like much of my own, invested in the +Bank of Pennsylvania, and deemed secure in that gigantic bubble. At +twenty-three Evelyn, of course, consulted no one as to the disposition +of her income, which she spent freely and magnificently on herself +alone. Her jewels, silks, laces, were of the finest quality and fabric; +she drove a peerless little equipage, had her own ponies and tiger and +maid; travelled frequently, entertained splendidly, though this last, it +must be confessed, was not at her expense, if redounding to her credit.</p> + +<p>To her my father had decreed the first position in his household until +my marriage (with her sanction) or majority should occur, and she kept +it bravely. She possessed a leading spirit, and loved to rule whether by +right or sufferance. Lovers she had in plenty; suitors, such as they +were, manifold; yet she preferred so far her single estate to aught that +could be or had been offered. I began to think that her constancy +deserved to be rewarded, and to withdraw on such score the objection I +had felt so strong in the outset against her union with Claude +Bainrothe.</p> + +<p>He had been already more than a year in Copenhagen when I discovered how +it was between them, or rather thought I had done so, from seeing one +night when she came into my room in her night-dress, which was +accidentally parted at the bosom, the betrothal-ring, so peculiar as not +readily to be mistaken, which Claude Bainrothe had once given to me, +suspended from the button of her chemisette by a small gold chain, so as +to lie constantly against her heart. How her pride had ever stooped to +receive and wear the pledge originally given to another it was difficult +for me to conceive, and little less bitter, I confess, at first to know. +I thought all care was over as to Claude Bainrothe and his affairs, but +a qualm of anguish surged through my whole being, the dying throe, I +well believe, of trust and affection, when I beheld this +carefully-guarded token.</p> + +<p>As Evelyn raised her hand to fasten her night-robe, through the +accidental opening of which I had caught sight of my repudiated +treasure, I noticed on one of her slender fingers, from which all other +incumbrances in the way of rings had been removed for the night, a +circlet of plain gold such as is generally used for the symbol of the +marriage-rite, an engagement-ring, I then supposed it.</p> + +<p>"Let me see your wedding-ring, Evelyn," I said, laughingly, to conceal +my embarrassment. She colored slightly.</p> + +<p>"What, that little affair of a philopoena?" she rejoined. "Oh, I +promised not to take it off until certain things were accomplished, nor +to tell the name of the giver either, so don't question about it, 'an +you love me, Hal!'"</p> + +<p>"Was it sent from beyond the seas?" I questioned, seriously, "I shall +ask nothing more."</p> + +<p>"What an idea! No, on my honor, it was not. There! I will not tell you +another word about it, so don't bore me, Miriam. I thought you, +yourself, despised a catechist, and undue curiosity. What I came here, +to-night, for, was not to be catechised, or 'put to the question,' but +to ask a favor which you must grant, dear prophetess, whether you will +or no. Now, don't refuse your Eva," and she kissed me affectionately; "I +am going to give a grand fancy ball, or rather, <i>we</i> are, the same thing +of course, and I want you to lay off your deep mourning for a time" +(hers had been already entirely put aside), "and appear as night. You +can still wear black, you know; I shall be Morning, and Mabel, Hesper. +Now, won't it be a lovely idea? Hesper, you know, is both morning and +evening star, and can hover between us, bearing a torch, and dressed <i>à +la Grecque</i>. Is not that appropriate—our little link of sisterhood? It +cannot fail to make an impression. I consider it, myself, a capital +idea. You can wear your mother's diamonds at last, which Mr. Bainrothe +means to hand over to you to-morrow as your birthday gift—not that, +exactly, either," seeing my rising scorn, "but as a token of respect +suitable for the occasion. He might hold on to them two years longer you +know, legally," she added, carelessly.</p> + +<p>"He is very magnanimous," I remarked, coldly; "I shall be glad to have +my diamonds though, in my own possession, I acknowledge, but why does he +make any parade about it at all? They are mine all the same, whether in +his hands or my own. Every thing that man does seems theatrical and +affected to me!"</p> + +<p>"I thought you were beginning to incline very favorably to Cagliostro! I +am sure this was the opinion of all who saw you together at Saratoga, +and I believe, between ourselves, it is his own."</p> + +<p>"Evelyn Erie, you know better than this! People, of themselves, would +never have dreamed of such a thing, and he, too, knows my sentiments +thoroughly. He only feigns ignorance."</p> + +<p>"My dear, dear girl! worse things than this have been said frequently, +and stranger ones have come to pass. Mr. Bainrothe is certainly a +splendid financier, that was your own father's opinion. You will never +marry any man who will take better care of your money, and that is a +consideration with you, or ought to be, Miriam. Your estate is your +chief distinction, child, if you only knew it; besides, with a knowledge +of your constitutional malady, you should be very careful what hands you +fall into. No woman that I know of demands such peculiar care and +tenderness from a husband, nor such choice in her surroundings. After +all, Mr. Bainrothe is still a very handsome man, and admirably well +preserved if not exactly young; he does not look forty, he has not a +gray hair, a false tooth, nor a wrinkle."</p> + +<p>"Have you done, Evelyn Erie?" I asked, almost ferociously. "Have you +completed your catalogue of insult? Then listen, in turn, to my counsel. +Marry him yourself by all means; he would suit you, body and soul, far +better than me. Indeed, I have never seen any one else who seemed so +thoroughly your counterpart, match and mate, as Cagliostro!"</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she said, furiously; "if I thought you were in +earnest"—here she hesitated, clinching her hand, and biting her white +lips.</p> + +<p>"I am in earnest," I rejoined, quietly; "what then?" and I looked +coldly, resolutely in her face.</p> + +<p>"Why I would perhaps marry the son, just to correct your fallacious idea +about the father, that is all! This course is shut out from you, +however, entirely, by your own folly, so <i>you</i> must take what you can +get now, for Claude Bainrothe, let me assure you, is lost to you +forever." And she went out, smiling triumphantly.</p> + +<p>I suspected from that hour what I knew later, and I had suffered the +last pang to agonize my heart that my broken troth should ever cost me. +The corpse of my dead love had bled at the touch of its murderer, in +accordance with ancient superstition. Now, calm and quiet oblivion and +the sepulchre should surround and enshroud it forever more.</p> + +<p>I think I kept my determination bravely from that hour, but others must +judge of this for me. We are not gods, to say to the tide of feeling, +"Thus far, and no farther shalt thou come." We are only mortal Canutes +at best, to lift back our chairs as the tide advances, and seat +ourselves securely thereon beyond the surf. We all remember how it fared +with the quaint old monarch and moralist when he tried the plan of the +immortals, and commanded the sea to obey him—we perish if we arrogate +too much when the surges sweep around us; but we can, we must avoid them +if we hope to escape their force, and plant ourselves beyond them firmly +on the shore.</p> + +<p>Evelyn's fancy ball was a magnificent affair, and a complete success, as +the word goes. She chose to call it my <i>début</i> party, but I never felt +that it was so, or that I was more than any other guest. I would not +have chosen a fancy dress for my first appearance, and she certainly was +the queen of the occasion.</p> + +<p>She was dressed as Aurora, in exquisite, fleecy gauze draperies of +white, azure, and rose color, so artistically arranged as irresistibly +to remind the observer of those delicate, transparent tints of morning +that greet the rising sun. On her brow was a diadem of opals and +diamonds arranged in a crescent form, from beneath which, her fleecy +white veil flowed backward to the hem of her garments like a mist of the +early day-spring; a rosy exhalation of the dawn enveloping but not +obscuring the radiance of her raiment, over which dew-drops seemed to +have been shed by the lavish hand of wakening Nature.</p> + +<p>Her face, so fair as to gain from this marble-like radiance its chief +characteristic, was delicately tinted to-night on either cheek so as to +emulate the early blushes of Aurora. Her colorless hair, of a tint so +neutral as to defy description, curling in light spiral ringlets so as +to drop profusely on her bosom, had been richly powdered with gold-dust +for this occasion, and glistened like the sunlight, or, to fall in my +comparison, the tresses of Lucretia Borgia, as her historians portray +them.</p> + +<p>Nothing could be more refined, more refulgent, more ethereal, than her +whole appearance, nor had I ever seen the light-blue eyes so clear and +brilliant, the thin, writhing lips so scarlet and smiling, the pearly +teeth so glistening by contrast with the first, as on this occasion.</p> + +<p>Her arms and neck, which wanted contour, and yet were of snowy +whiteness, were skillfully draped in her many-colored robe so as to +cover all defects; and a chaplet of pearls, mingled with diamonds, +concealed the slight prominence of the collar-bones, and descended low +on the white and well-veiled bosom. Every eye was turned on her with +admiration, and the low murmur that followed her through the halls she +trod so proudly, proclaimed her triumph far more loudly than more open +flattery could have done.</p> + +<p>"You, too, look well to-night, in your black-velvet robe and diamonds, +Miriam, better than I have ever seen you!" said a low voice in my ear, +as I echoed the passing praises lavished on Evelyn's beauty by one of +her admirers. "It is scarcely a fancy costume though, after all."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Bainrothe," I replied coldly. "For reasons of my own, I +have preferred to make my costume as subdued as possible."</p> + +<p>"By Jove! I wish our young exile could see you this evening," he went +on, disregardful of my brief explanation. "He would strew his hair with +ashes, and wear sackcloth in penance for the past, I doubt not; for I +tell you frankly, Miriam, you have improved wonderfully of late, and you +bear inspection far better than Evelyn with all her beauty; your figure +is absolutely faultless; your face the most attractive woman ever wore, +if not the most absolutely regular. I tell you simple truths. I am a +disinterested critic, you see, and stand apart gazing upon women simply +as specimens. Your hands and feet are models, your smile enchanting, +your voice musical, your manner witchery itself, when you choose to let +out your nature; what more could heart desire?" and he gazed steadily in +my face, insolently I felt it!</p> + +<p>I had been listening indignantly to this cool summary of my attractions, +and the arrogant idea manifestly uppermost, that Sultan Claude Bainrothe +had only to appear on the scene, and throw his handkerchief, for me to +succumb, and I had been so confounded by this tirade of compliment and +commonplace that I scarcely knew how to stay its tide without absolute +rudeness, such as no lady should ever be guilty of—when he coolly +continued his remarks as if wholly unobservant of my displeasure.</p> + +<p>"Evelyn, with all her arts, is a little faded already; don't you see it, +Miriam? There is no corrosive poison equal to envy, and that, by-the-by, +is her specialty. She is bitterly envious by nature. Most of those +thin-lipped, sharp-elbowed, sharp-nosed women are, if you observe. +Faded at twenty-three! Sad, but true of half our American morning-glory +beauties. For my part, I love the statuesque in women, the enduring! +those exquisitely-moulded proportions on which the gaze reposes with +such delight, and that set a man to dreaming, whether he will or not." +And his eye dwelt on me from throat to waist in a manner that made my +flesh crawl as if the worms that tortured Herod were passing over it. At +this point I rebelled—I ground my teeth resolutely—my face flushed to +the temples—I could willingly have stricken that audacious scrutinizer +in the face with my clinched hand, and he knew it! How coarse coarseness +makes us, even when most disinclined to it naturally! His sensuous +brutality made me almost fiercely brutal in turn. As it was, I could +only put him away with a gesture of contempt I sought not to command, +and with which I swept past him into the thickest of the crowd, cursing +at heart the bitter fate that had cast me bound and helpless, for a +season, into such unscrupulous hands.</p> + +<p>There was no one to turn to now. I knew Mr. Lodore thought Evelyn +perfect, and me a sinner, because in the matter of church duties she was +the more observant. Besides, my Jewish pedigree had always been a +barrier between us. Dr. Pemberton, Mr. Stanbury, Laura, George Gaston, +all that truly loved and believed in me, were gone for an indefinite +time to Europe. I had not been suffered to accompany them, on many pleas +and pretences, as I had wished to do, and this was the end of it all. +Licentious persecution!</p> + +<p>Evelyn, too! a blinded confederate in such schemes as should have nerved +her woman's heart to indignation rather! Marry that man! I would have +cut off my own right hand, or burnt it to a cinder like Scaevola; +sooner gone out to service—played chambermaid on the boards, or the +tragedy-queen of the commonest melodrama, far rather! It was all insult, +injury, degradation, in whatever light I could view it, and every +feeling in my nature was stung to exasperation.</p> + +<p>It was well understood that I was an heiress, and I did not want for +adulation. I was surrounded by fashion and beauty, and wreathed with +approbation from the noblest and most exalted, on that night of festal +splendor; and again that beautiful face that had cast its spell above me +in my inexperienced childhood, and that age never seemed to change nor +chill, bent above me with its gracious and genial sweetness, and the +princely banker on this occasion condescended to manifest his kindly and +approving interest in the daughter of his dead friend. At any other +time, such tribute would have been most grateful and acceptable to me, +for this man was almost my <i>beau idéal</i> at this period, but now the +bitterness with which my heart was filled, permeated my whole being, and +dashed every draught of enjoyment untasted from my lips.</p> + +<p>Yet the memory of that time—that face—returned to me later with +emotions irresistible, when the being who was then the idol of society, +became its ostracized outcast, and, among all who bowed before him in +his pride of place and power, were found, before two years had elapsed +from this period,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"None so poor<br /></span> +<span>To do him reverence."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Already is the injustice of that decision forced on the convictions of +his fellow-men. Our scales are not wisely balanced in this world—we +cannot weigh motives against acts, thought against deeds, with atom-like +precision, nor measure the tempted with the temptation grain by grain, +hair by hair. Ambition was the fault of the seraphim in the +commencement—be well assured that some of the old angelic leaven +lingers still about all of its votaries and victims.</p> + +<p>Ay—victims!—for he who was said to have made so many, was himself the +victim of the society that spoiled and flattered him, and fostered his +foibles, in the beginning, with its false and fawning breath, and, +later, blew on him a blast of ice from its remorseless, pestilent jaws, +that froze him out of his humanity.</p> + +<p>He could not live—moulded, as he was, of all sweet elements—apart from +social influences, from the regard, the affection, the approbation of +his kind—and he died of heart-starvation; fortunate, indeed, in that he +was mercifully permitted so to die, rather than have lived, as less +fervent natures might have done, in cold and cheerless apathy.</p> + +<p>I do not defend his errors; I only seek to extenuate them. Pity and +justice are not the same; but one may still so temper the other that +Mercy, the appointed angel of this earth, may be the result.</p> + +<p>Let us, who are mortal and fallible, be wary how we condemn one whose +head was rendered giddy by his very pinnacle of power! Peace be his!</p> + +<p>I have diverged so widely from my subject—a most bitter and revolting +one to me, eventually—that I will not return to it just now; nor, +indeed, do I even in thought revert to it with any thing like patience +or pardon. There are some things, paradoxical as this may seem, we must +forget, in order to forgive.</p> + +<p>I am lingering too long on this period of my story, uneventful as it is +just yet, and circumscribed as I am in space; but, as the boldest rider +draws rein with a beating heart beside the dark abyss over which he must +fling his horse, or perish, so I pause here, on the threshold of +despair, and take breath for a flying leap—for I shall clear it, +reader, believe me!</p> + +<p>It will be remembered that, at my father's death, half of my means were +invested in the stocks of the Bank of Pennsylvania; and that his +directions were that, as the different loans he had made became due, +they should, one after the other, be drawn in and invested in like +manner by Mr. Bainrothe.</p> + +<p>No details of my business had ever been discussed before me, nor had I +any insight into the periods at which these loans were due, or how the +money was cared for when paid in by my father's executors, of whom, to +my regret, Mr. Gerald Stanbury had refused to be one.</p> + +<p>One thing alone I had heard them say, and it was said, I doubt not, +expressly for my hearing. All debts should be paid in gold, as, +according to law, this was the only legal tender. Paper, however +excellent, should never be received in discharge of any liability of my +estate, since it might render the executors responsible to me, to depart +a hair's-breadth from the very letter of the law, which enjoined specie +payment.</p> + +<p>"But why not receive bank stocks instead?" I had ventured to suggest, a +little indignantly, "seeing all moneys are to be immediately reinvested +in that form. Pennsylvania Bank stocks, I mean."</p> + +<p>"You know nothing about the matter, Miriam," Evelyn had remarked, with +some asperity. "Had your father deemed you capable of conducting your +own affairs, he would not have appointed <i>us</i> to manage and direct them +during your minority. No sinecure, I assure you!"</p> + +<p>But Mr. Bainrothe had only laughed, and turned away tapping his boot +with his rattan cane, amused, it appeared to me, by my sister's +assumption of importance, and, probably, as well by her entire ignorance +of his true motive in exacting gold, of which secret spring of action +she, knowing nothing, still tried to make so profound a mystery.</p> + +<p>Yet he flattered Evelyn very much, I saw, on her business +qualifications, and her insight into financial matters, of which +abilities, indeed, she was more proud than of her accomplishments, or +even beauty.</p> + +<p>The last she took as a matter of course; but it was something new and +unexpected to her to be considered sagacious and strong-minded, and very +gratifying to her arrogant and exacting spirit—ever alive to the +delight of controlling the affairs of others, as well as her own—to +have the reins of government given apparently into her hands.</p> + +<p>My father had placed an iron chest in a secure niche in the dining-room, +behind the great central mirror, made for the purpose of concealing it, +and to which he alone had access. Here he had kept a store of plate, +money, jewels, and papers, so as to defy all burglarious interference or +foreign scrutiny, and, in dying, had bequeathed the secret of the patent +lock to Mr. Bainrothe alone. Old Morton even was ignorant of the +contrivance.</p> + +<p>I knew of the niche and the iron chest by the merest accident, and had +been requested, nay, commanded, by my father, not to speak of either; +so, in silence the mystery had almost died out of my recollection, when +it was rather singularly revived again in this wise:</p> + +<p>During one of the hottest nights early in September, after our return +from Saratoga, I descended, parched with thirst, to the dining-room, +about four o'clock in the morning, to seek a glass of iced-water, +always to be found there, I knew, by night or day, on the sideboard, in +a small silver cistern.</p> + +<p>The dawn was dimly breaking through the great window in the hall as I +passed down the broad stairway, still in my night-dress and unslippered +feet; but, on approaching the dining-room, I was surprised to see the +gleam of a candle falling athwart the mirror, which had been swung from +its place (as I had seen it once before swung by my father), so as to +screen my advancing form from the person evidently at work behind it. +The massive shutters of the room were closed and securely barred, as was +the habit of the house, and the room was, consequently, still in +darkness, or deep shadow.</p> + +<p>As I stood half hidden now, by the arch of the hall, behind which I +shrank instinctively, and uncertain how to proceed, I saw Mr. Bainrothe +suddenly emerge from behind the mirror, and take from the table near it +a canvas bag, small but evidently weighty, from the manner in which he +carried it to its place of concealment.</p> + +<p>Then I heard the slow, heavy fall of a shower of gold coins, dropping on +others, the same sound that had greeted my ear on the day when I first +detected this treasure-cave of my father, and as different from the +sound of falling silver as is the gurgling of rich old wine from the +dash of crystal water.</p> + +<p>"The wretch is faithful to his trust, after all. So this is where he +keeps my gold," I thought; "but how did he find ingress into our castle, +supposed at least to be inaccessible by night? Has he a false key I +wonder, and are we above-stairs, with unlocked doors, subject to his +visitations, should it occur to him to make them?"</p> + +<p>I shuddered at the suggestions of my own fancy. Women only, who have +been similarly situated, can know how dark these may become, even in an +innocent mind, from circumstances like those that surrounded me, and +what a nameless horror there is about the insidious and licentious +approaches of the man we would fain dash away from us, and trample under +foot like a serpent, did we dare openly to do so.</p> + +<p>Yet I lingered under the archway, determined to observe to the last Mr. +Bainrothe's proceedings. When he had locked the chest and replaced the +mirror, which swung out from its place, as I have said, like a door on +invisible hinges and fastened with a spring, he passed hastily out of +the dining-room into the pantry beyond, opening for convenience on a +covered paved court, which divided the kitchen from the house and which +led directly into the yard beyond. After that, all was silent.</p> + +<p>Yet, the next day, Franklin assured me that he had carried the key of +the pantry away with him, when he went home at night (he was a married +man, and slept at his own house usually), and that he found it locked in +the morning just as he had left it.</p> + +<p>This was in answer to a question which I tried to make as careless as +possible, with regard to some burglaries that had lately been committed +in a neighboring street, adding, by way of caution: "Don't forget to +lock us up carefully at night, Franklin; remember we are all women in +the house, except Morton, and he is old and sleeps like a top, no doubt +having a good conscience for his pillow."</p> + +<p>"If you would have an <i>inside</i> bolt put upon the pantry-door, it would +be best, Miss Miriam," he remarked; "that is, if your mind is really +troubled about robbers. Then you could draw it yourself in my absence at +night."</p> + +<p>"And who would let you in, in the morning, Franklin, if I did this? Our +household would sleep until noon, were it not for your early summons, I +verily believe."</p> + +<p>"I will throw a pebble at the cook's window, miss, if she is not on foot +by that time. But she usually is; cooks has to stir earlier than the +rest, you know, by reason of the light rolls and muffins."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! true, I had forgotten this. Go at once, then, Franklin, for a +smith, and let him put a massive bolt on the pantry-door, and I will be +jailer of Monfort Hall in future, in your absence, for I am quite sure +some one was trying that lock last night. I came to the dining-room for +water just before daylight, and heard it distinctly."</p> + +<p>"One of your lady-like notions," said Franklin, shaking his head, with +an incredulous smile; "young ladies is always nervous like, and fearful +about robbers, all but Miss Evelyn Erle—I never seen the like of her, +for true grit! All was safe when I came, Miss Miriam, any way, and, if +robbers had been about, it stands to reason the silver chest, setting +out in the pantry, would have stood a poor chance."</p> + +<p>Again he smiled provokingly. "There are all sorts of robbers in this +world," I said, a little sternly; "some come for one purpose, some for +another. Attend to the bolt, Franklin, at once; I am very sure of what I +have said." And so the parley ended.</p> + +<p>I am certain that Mr. Bainrothe came no more by night to his +treasure-cave, but there was a mocking smile on his lip—when Evelyn +told him, before me, some time later, that I had caused a bolt to be +placed on the pantry-door, for fear of burglars—that was significant to +my mind.</p> + +<p>"What is the use of this mystery with me," I thought, "when I alone am +concerned? Why not reveal to me at once the secret of the spring and the +lock, as I only am to be the beneficiary of all this gold? The man's +cunning is short-sighted. Suppose he were to die suddenly, how does he +know that I would ever be the wiser or the better of these deposits? +Years hence, when the house was crumbling to decay, some stranger might +be enriched by this concealed gold, for aught he knows, which is +legitimately mine. Evelyn, too, is in complete ignorance of this hidden +chest, I am convinced, and, as far as I am concerned, will probably +remain so. After all, does Bainrothe mistrust her honesty or mine? Good +Heavens! what a mole the man is by nature, how darkly, deeply underhand, +even in his responsibility! And there are two long years yet, nay more +to wait, before I can openly defy him and put him away forever. Loathing +him as I do, patience, patience! Rome was not built in a day. I shall +still prevail."</p> + +<p>Months after this occurrence, months that passed swiftly because +monotonously to me, for by events alone we are told we measure time, I +was roused one night from my early slumber by the sound of bitter +weeping in Evelyn's chamber. I had left her engaged over accounts with +Mr. Bainrothe, having withdrawn rather than spend a long, lonely evening +in the parlor, somewhat indisposed as I felt.</p> + +<p>I rose from my bed and went to her precipitately. I found her indulging +in a passionate burst of grief, almost choking with sobs of hysterical +indignation.</p> + +<p>"All gone—all gone!" she exclaimed, wildly, as I entered the room. +"Your estate—mine—Mabel's—all swept away with one fell swoop, Miriam! +The Bank of Pennsylvania has failed; it is discovered that Mr. Biddle +has proved defaulter, and we are ruined!"</p> + +<p>"I will never believe it, Evelyn!" I exclaimed, vehemently, "until he +tells me so with his own lips. This is one of Mr. Bainrothe's fictions; +he is trying to wake us up a little, that is all. Mr. Biddle is the +Bayard of bankers—'<i>sans peur et sans reproche</i>.' As to that bank, did +not my father believe it to be as indestructible as the United States, +the government itself? Nay, did not Bainrothe himself do all he could to +convince him of it, and induce him to invest in its stocks? The wily fox +had his motive, no doubt, but it surely could not have been our ruin! +Our own fortunes are too intimately involved in his prosperity for this. +Besides, why have not the newspapers told us of this?"</p> + +<p>All this time Evelyn was sobbing convulsively, and what I have told +continuously here was said by me in a far more fragmentary way between +her bursts of grief. She ceased now, and looked up, with some effort at +calmness.</p> + +<p>"The newspapers <i>have</i> been discussing it for months past, all but Mr. +Biddle's organ, and that alone was permitted to enter our doors. Mr. +Bainrothe acknowledges this now. Have you not noticed the irregularity +of our Washington papers?"</p> + +<p>"No; I so rarely read them, you know."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bainrothe, with mistaken charity," she resumed, "I fear, sought to +shield us as long as possible from the blow, which was inevitable sooner +or later; or perhaps he hoped still for an adjustment of affairs, that +might have left us a competence at least. But he was deceived, Miriam; +we are worth nothing—a round naught—" and she suited the action to the +word by the union of the tips of her thumb and finger—"is the figure +whereby to describe our fortunes now; and the heiress and her once +dependent friend and sister are alike—beggars! All brought to one level +at last—there is comfort in that thought, at least! Ha! ha! ha!" and +she laughed wildly, horribly. I never before heard such laughter.</p> + +<p>"Beggary is a word I repudiate, Evelyn, in any case," I said, firmly; +"and we, it seems, if this frightful thing be true, are not alone in +ruin. Be calm, dear Evelyn! Learn to bear with dignity our fate. We must +sustain each other now—be all in all to one another, as we have never +been before. Thank God! let us both thank God, Evelyn, from our inmost +hearts, that we still have this shelter—and—yes—I have reason to +believe, much more."</p> + +<p>And, kneeling beside her bed, I told her impulsively of our concealed +treasure behind the mirror (though I had once determined never to reveal +this to her or any one)—treasure guarded so long by me with bolt by +night and vigilance by day!</p> + +<p>Oh, fatal error, never to be repaired or sufficiently repented of! Oh, +utter misplacement of confidence, not warranted, surely, by any thing +that had gone before, and the results of which I had subsequently such +bitter cause to deplore!</p> + +<p>She listened to me with an interest and zeal that were unmistakable. She +sat up in her bed, with her large, blue, distended eyes fixed on mine, +turning paler and paler, brighter and brighter, as she gazed, until +their lustre seemed opaline rather than spiritual, and with her slender +white hands wreathed together like the interlacing marble snakes in the +grasp of the Laocoon, so long, and lithe, and sinuous, seemed the +polished, flexile fingers. Her lips were livid, but on her cheek burned +two flame-like spots, indicative ever with her of intense excitement. +Surely the god Mammon has rarely possessed so sincere a worshiper! Let +us do her this justice, at least. So far she was consistent; so far she +was devout!'</p> + +<p>"You are sure of the truth of what you utter, Miriam?" she questioned, +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Sure as that I live," I replied.</p> + +<p>"It is wonderful! Why did he not mention this to me? I cannot conjecture +his motive. But perhaps he has already removed and invested this gold, +Miriam, of which you say there was such a quantity as to have +represented a large portion of your landed estate, I think!"</p> + +<p>"No, no; that is simply impossible. By night he has never done this, I +know. By day he could not effect this unseen or unsuspected. That +dining-room is so public, you know, that Morton sees every thing; +besides, I gave him directions which he blindly obeyed, I am certain +(you know his almost canine obedience to me, Evelyn), to remain, when +engaged with the plate, in the adjoining pantry, with the door ajar +between, and to be always on guard. Papa always allowed him the +privilege of that room, and I love to continue it, you know, since we +never use it except for meals. You remember I said this when you +objected to his sitting there, Evelyn, and remarked that he might as +well sit with the other servants, to whom he is so superior. But of +late, I confess, I have had a motive, and Morton knew this"—I +hesitated—"must have known it."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say you confided the secret of the mirror to Morton, and +kept it from me? Thank you, Miriam!" loftily. "I might have expected +this, however."</p> + +<p>"Not wholly this," I replied, with embarrassment, for I saw how the +matter looked externally. "Morton simply knew that I wanted, for +purposes of my own, to exclude every one except himself from solitary +possession of the dining-room as much as possible, Mr. Bainrothe +especially. Yes, I told him this, but I kept papa's secret. Believe me, +Evelyn, I did this, and you know well enough what Morton's devotion is +to me not to believe that he religiously fulfilled my request without +asking for an explanation."</p> + +<p>"Yes," she mused, "I saw him perched up there tonight, as usual, with +his old English newspapers, and I have observed that he never leaves his +post there, while Mr. Bainrothe remains. You could not have procured a +better watchman, surely; but why have you watched at all?"</p> + +<p>"Because," I said, "I felt sure that mystery lurked behind those +nocturnal visits. You cannot doubt this yourself, Evelyn, and, with your +opinion of Mr. Bainrothe, must see that I felt I had good reason for +mistrust. I was determined to be present when that chest should next be +opened by him."</p> + +<p>A smile quivered across her face. "I had not suspected you of so much +diplomacy," she observed, dryly; "but, after all, Miriam, how does this +change the posture of affairs to me? I shall be all the same, poor and +dependent."</p> + +<p>"No, Evelyn, no indeed! I promise you faithfully.—But what is this?" I +exclaimed, rising hastily from my knees, "I am faint—blind! Quick, the +drops Dr. Pemberton left for me, Evelyn, or I am lost again."</p> + +<p>I threw myself across the foot of her bed, sick and bewildered, yet +feeling myself gradually—after a few moments of oppression—growing +better, in spite of the dark effort of my evil genius to gain his fatal +ascendency.</p> + +<p>When she came with the drops, after some delay, I was, to her surprise, +able to sit up and look around me. The spell was over.</p> + +<p>"I believe I have troubled you uselessly," I said; "I will go to bed +without medicine to-night, I think, and strive to be calm, as Dr. +Pemberton enjoined me to do, and there was good sense in his advice, +certainly. We have so much to do to-morrow, Evelyn—we two must remove +these deposits ourselves. But not a word to Bainrothe!"</p> + +<p>"Miriam," she said, eagerly, "can you doubt my discretion when you know, +too, what your own promises have been now and long ago—to divide with +me, ay, to the last cent, like a sister? Now, I insist on the drops! You +are pale again, Miriam—collapsing visibly in my sight. Do take your +remedy—so efficacious of late in warding off these distressing attacks. +I have taken the trouble, too, to go after them. I was at some pains in +hunting them up; they were not in the usual place. Come, now, as a +punishment for your carelessness, I proclaim myself dictator, and +command you to swallow them at once," and she poured the medicine into a +spoon.</p> + +<p>"No, Evelyn," I averred, putting the spoon aside, "I am better without +the drops. I wish to see what my unaided <i>will</i> and constitution can do, +this time."</p> + +<p>"There is too much at stake to depend on these, Miriam. We must unearth +this treasure-trove to-morrow at daylight, and defeat Bainrothe on his +own grounds, or he may be beforehand with us. Take your drops, dear, and +have a good night's rest, and be ready for the contest. There, now, that +is a good sister," embracing me tenderly.</p> + +<p>Persuasion and reason accomplished with me what <i>commands</i> could not +have done. I took the drops, went quietly to bed, and was soon lost to a +sense of misfortunes, hopes, and the world itself.</p> + +<p>I slept profoundly and long. When I awoke, the slant rays of the evening +sun were pouring through the blinds of my window, in lines of moted +light. Mrs. Austin was sitting close to the sash, with her invariable +knitting-work, her aquiline profile and frilled cap strongly relieved +against the jalousied shutters.</p> + +<p>On the mantel-piece were the inevitable spirit-lamp and bowl of panada, +recognized at once as part and parcel of my malady. In the chamber the +usual smell of ether, the remedy so often ineffectually administered +during the period of my lethargic attacks.</p> + +<p>I understood everything now—I had experienced another seizure, and I +had lost a day.</p> + +<p>Whether it was this conviction that cleared my brain at once of those +mephitic fogs that usually clung around it after a spell of lethargy, +long after my consciousness returned, I never knew, but certain it is, I +sat up in my bed like one refreshed by sleep, instead of feeling +exhausted, and, greatly to her surprise, accosted Mrs. Austin in clear, +strong accents.</p> + +<p>"How long have I slept? And where is Evelyn?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"You have not opened your eyes to-day, dear child, until just this +moment; and Miss Evelyn has not been able to sit up in her bed since she +went to it last night, that shock yesterday overcame her so completely." +By this time she was standing by my pillow, after laying aside her +knitting, in a leisurely manner peculiar to her at all seasons. "But +Mabel is in the next room; let me call her to you."</p> + +<p>"Let her stay there," I interrupted, in a manner so unusual with me, +whose first inquiry on reviving from illness had always been for Mabel, +instead of Evelyn, that Mrs. Austin looked surprised and startled.</p> + +<p>"What ails you, Miss Miriam? I thought Mabel was always your first +thought; the little angel! She has been hanging over you tearfully all +day; never going near Miss Evelyn at all. It is so strange she shows +such partiality!"</p> + +<p>Strange that one being on earth, and that one my sister, should love me +better than Evelyn, in the eyes of her partial affection; and yet Evelyn +treated her with positive disrespect every day of her life, as I never +did; and often with severity as well. It was incomprehensible!</p> + +<p>"Give me the panada," I said, grimly; "I am half starved, and must grow +strong again to do my work. I am not nearly so weak as I usually am, +though, after one of my seizures."</p> + +<p>"You see you are outgrowing them, as Dr. Pemberton predicted you would. +I declare, you <i>are</i> hungry, poor child; you have not left a +drop—pint-bowl too—with a gill of wine in it. Not going to get up, +Miss Miriam? Oh, no; you must not venture to do that yet."</p> + +<p>And she tried gently to restrain me.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I must get about again; I have much to do, and Evelyn must aid me, +if able. Is she ill or only nervous?"</p> + +<p>"Very ill, I think; she wrote a note to Dr. Craig and sent it last +night, after you went to sleep; but he did not come."</p> + +<p>"Quite naturally, since he had been absent some weeks. I could have told +her," I said, sententiously; "indeed, I thought she knew it. Who carried +her note?"</p> + +<p>"Morton."</p> + +<p>"Poor old man! The idea of sending him on such a wild-goose chase, after +night. Papa would turn in his grave could he know he had been forced out +in the rain at such an hour, for a woman's whim. I would have suffered +tortures till morning first. Where was Franklin?"</p> + +<p>"Franklin had gone home earlier than usual, and did not return to-day. +He is sick with a chill, we hear, and his wife is again ill."</p> + +<p>"Who did the marketing?"</p> + +<p>"Morton."</p> + +<p>"Morton again! Why, the old man seems to be becoming a <i>factotum</i> in his +declining years—he whose duties have always been so few, so simple! I +am provoked, for some reasons, that he should have been sent away +to-day. Fortunately, I bolted the pantry-door myself, before I came to +bed last night," I murmured, "and the front door is self-fastening. The +house was well secured, at least, by night."</p> + +<p>"How long did Morton remain absent?" I asked, recommencing my system of +cross-questions, very abruptly.</p> + +<p>"About an hour, I believe; but what makes you so particular, all at +once, Miss Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"Some day you shall know, perhaps. In the mean while tell me, has Mr. +Bainrothe been here to-day?"</p> + +<p>"He called about one o'clock, but, as all were poorly, went away again +without entering the house at all. I saw him go down-street, after +dinner, in his phaeton, with another gentleman, and have not heard +wheels since."</p> + +<p>"You are sure he was not here, this morning—while—while Morton was +absent?"</p> + +<p>"Quite sure; he breakfasted later than usual, I think, for I saw him +throw open his side bedroom window at nine o'clock, and he was in his +shirt-sleeves then. He sleeps in a large room in the ell, you know. I +was standing at the pantry-door, and saw him distinctly, and he nodded +to me, and called something, but I could not hear what it was at that +distance."</p> + +<p>"Where was Charity at that time, Mrs. Austin?"</p> + +<p>"Cleaning the house, Miss Miriam—hard at work in the parlors, washing +windows—this is her cleaning-day, you know."</p> + +<p>"And cook, what was she about?"</p> + +<p>"She got breakfast early, for us people, and went to mass, but was back +by ten. Miss Evelyn had her breakfast after she returned, with Miss +Mabel, and there was no one to eat dinner down-stairs so she thought—"</p> + +<p>"Never mind what she thought," I interrupted, "or who went and came, so +that all be well."</p> + +<p>"You do ask such strange questions, this morning, Miss Miriam, and your +eyes are so big! Do you feel light-headed at all after your turn—maybe +you have fever?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all—hard-headed, rather, Mrs. Austin—not even +heavy-headed—though leaden-hearted enough, God knows! We are ruined, +you know—or at least Evelyn tells me so. The rest I have still to +learn—I must see Mr. Bainrothe this evening. There is a positive +necessity for me to exert myself now, but first I have some examinations +to make. Give me a shawl and wrapper, good nurse, and my slippers. Don't +disturb Evelyn, or call Mabel till my return; and stay where you are +until then, if you wish to serve me."</p> + +<p>I sped rapidly down-stairs, and entered the dining-room so noiselessly +that old Morton, who was a "little thick of hearing," did not hear my +steps nor move from his position by the fire, where he sat apparently +absorbed by his newspapers. "Morton," I said, and laid my quivering hand +upon his arm, "the time has come to act. Come help me to secure my +treasure." He rose silently to obey me.</p> + +<p>I touched the spring of the mirror; it swung silently open, and revealed +to the astonished old man a square niche built in the wall—unsuspected +before by him—in which fitted an iron chest, the existence of which he +had never dreamed of until now. But the contents were gone—gone since +yesterday! The chest was empty, with its lid propped open. There was not +even a paper within.</p> + +<p>With a bitter groan I tottered back against the wall, while the cold dew +stood on my brow, and my limbs trembled under me. This was indeed +despair!</p> + +<p>"What ails you, Miss Miriam?" he asked, with an expression of anguish +upon his kind, old, quivering face. "Do you miss any thing—what have +you lost, Miss Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"You left your post, Morton," I said, at last, "and this is the +consequence—I have lost every thing! Old man! old friend! did you +think I charged you to watch every one who came, so earnestly, to stay +here so constantly, without a good and sufficient reason? Some one has +been here before us—my gold is gone! we are ruined, Morton!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="I_CHAPTER_VIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Whatever my flash of conviction might have been, all suspicions against +Evelyn must have been allayed by the manner in which she received the +information of the loss of the deposits behind the mirror.</p> + +<p>Her shrieks filled the house; another physician was hastily summoned in +Dr. Craig's absence, who gave her disease or seizure a Latin name—wrote +a Greek or Hebrew prescription—or something equally unintelligible, and +vanished ghost-like, in the manner most approved of by modern +practitioners.</p> + +<p>There was no hard epithet that Evelyn did not apply to Mr. Basil +Bainrothe during her hysterical mania, and before the doctor's arrival; +but, on her recovery, she begged me to repeat nothing of the sort, if +she had been indiscreet enough to let out her true opinion of him and +his measures, in a moment of irrepressible emotion. "For," she pursued, +"it is expedient for us to keep on terms with the man, at least for the +present, and in no way harass or exasperate him—we are completely in +his hands now, Miriam—we must watch our opportunity—"</p> + +<p>"I do not see that," I interrupted; "less now than ever, it seems to me. +What more can he do for or against us now? Our property is all +gone—except this house, plate, and furniture, and my mother's +diamonds—all of winch are tangible and visible, and in our own +possession. We have no debts—you pay house-bills monthly, and I, +fortunately, have just settled off every account I have in the world, +and have five hundred Spanish dollars to start anew with—my savings +during papa's lifetime. I hoarded it, fortunately, in this form for a +missionary purpose you remember, Evelyn, but afterward changed my mind."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember; merely because the person it was intended for prayed +that the Jews might finally be exterminated."</p> + +<p>"Was not that enough, Evelyn? The man who could utter such a prayer was +no Christian, and unfit for religious teaching. Since then I have come +to the conclusion that there is a great deal of undue and very +impertinent meddling with the heathen; who are entitled to their own +mode of worship as well as of government, and who I think are not yet +ripe for Christianity."</p> + +<p>"You have strange notions, Miriam; you talk like an old French +philosopher."</p> + +<p>"I never knew there was such a thing—a French sophist I am afraid you +mean. No, I am not a sophist, Evelyn; any thing else than that! I wish +sometimes I did not see so clearly. I love, I idolize the truth alone!"</p> + +<p>She colored—sighed. God knows I was not thinking of her at that moment, +or speaking with that reference, however I may have had reason to do so.</p> + +<p>Is it not strange that our dreams often present to us, in our own +despite, the vivid, photographic pictures struck by sleep from the dim, +unconscious negative of our waking judgment, which we refuse to +recognize as verities in the light of our open-eyed, daytime +responsibility? I, who had declared myself no sophist, knew later that I +had deceived my own heart, which spoke out so truthfully in dreams of +sleep, and refused to be silenced in the dead hour of night, however I +might stifle its suggestions by day.</p> + +<p>In one of these suggestive, or rather reflected, visions, I saw Evelyn +groping through darkness to the side-gate which gave into the grounds of +Mr. Bainrothe from our own, made years before by my father's permission +for the convenience of his friend; the night was a dark and stormy one, +yet she went forth alone, or seemed to, in my vision, to seek a man she +detested, and with him connive the destruction of the fortunes of the +child of her benefactress, whose confidence she abused.</p> + +<p>Then I saw them returning together, through that pantry-door which she +had left unbolted, though locked when she went out by another egress, +and which the man, who returned with her, readily unlocked with the +duplicate key he carried, <i>not</i> by my father's permission. This last I +knew.</p> + +<p>Now the scene was changed to the dining-room. Again I saw the mirror +swing back on its invisible and noiseless hinges, and now the glare of a +shaded lamp fell in bands of light across its surface. But I was inside +this time, by the glamour of my dream, and I saw them emptying the open +chest painfully, laboriously, stealthily; stopping now and then to +listen, to breathe, again working silently, industriously, at their +vocation of theft and crime!</p> + +<p>At last all seemed accomplished. A large, covered basket was partially +loaded with the contents—heavy as lead—and, between them, they bore it +out into the storm and darkness again, and I heard the sound of the +spade and mattock at work on the graveled road.</p> + +<p>Presently Evelyn came in again. Her air was wild and frightened; her +trembling hands were stained with mud, seen by the light of the lantern +she bore, and which she again hung in its accustomed place, stealing +quietly away into the darkened hall, to grope her way up-stairs. All +this while the farce of sending for Dr. Craig was being enacted, and +Morton was out on his fruitless mission in the rain!</p> + +<p>Again it was morning, and I saw them together in the library, while I +still slept, consulting, planning, plotting, writing, erasing, +whispering; soon to separate, however, this time. Their arrangements +being completed without restraint, for again the old man was absent, +doing the duties of another, who, knowing not the motive of such request +or bribe, was content to work the will of a conspirator, and pass the +day in idleness at home, for the sake of a purse of gold. Here ended my +clairvoyance, if such it was.</p> + +<p>All this may have been imaginary—part of it probably was—but the sense +of the dream was no doubt what my untrammeled judgment would have +suggested as truth, and what later—but let me not digress or anticipate +here, in the thickest of my troubles, the jungle-pass of my story as it +were, but strike on through a self-made path, it may be, to the light +that shines beyond the forest, even if it lead into the desert!</p> + +<p>Something in Evelyn's suggestion had struck me as the best to pursue +under the circumstances, although at first I so boldly repudiated the +idea of Mr. Bainrothe's power. Unless I could prove that he had removed +the treasure for unworthy uses—why speak of it at all? I should only +irritate and set him on his guard by such allusions; whereas, by a +course of reticence, I still might learn, as she had suggested, the +truth when he least suspected my purpose.</p> + +<p>It would be so easy for him to deny all knowledge of the concealed +chest—so easy to lay the robbery on Morton, even if the first were +proved—or even on Evelyn!</p> + +<p>I had sent impulsively for Mr. Bainrothe to come to me on the evening +of my discovery, but his visit was delayed by a necessity that kept him +from home all night, so that I had time to revolve and resolve on my +course of action before I saw him, which was not until the following +afternoon, and by this time my mind had undergone a change. He came, but +not alone—his son accompanied him.</p> + +<p>I have reason since then to think that Evelyn and Claude Bainrothe had +met before their cold and measured interview in my presence. It was to +me a painful and embarrassing one, and this time the graceful ease was +all on the other side—I was preoccupied and agitated, Claude courteous +and self-possessed, Evelyn lofty and confident, as though she had lived +or trodden down her emotions, and, to my surprise, Mr. Basil Bainrothe +wore his accustomed deliberate and self-poised demeanor, making no +reference, not even by his expression of face or a glance of his +kaleidoscopic eyes, to the sad catastrophe with which by this time I was +but too well acquainted.</p> + +<p>I had been reading newspapers eagerly all day, when he came, and, from a +contradictory mass of evidence, had gleaned some grains of truth. One +fact was beyond contradiction—a second Samson had drawn down the ruins +of a temple, not on the heads of his foes alone, but his friends as +well, blinded, as he of old, by the treachery of that basest of all +Delilahs, a fawning public!</p> + +<p>Yes, we were ruined; the only hope now was in the honesty of Mr. Basil +Bainrothe. Should the gold I saw him hiding away not have been +appropriated to the purchase of bank-stocks—should it have been saved +for me—we might still rejoice in wealth beyond our deserts, and equal +to our desires.</p> + +<p>We still might keep the old, beloved roof above our heads, preserve one +unbroken circle of family domestics—live without labor, or terror of +the future. But would this be? I waited, as I still think I should have +done, for Mr. Bainrothe to take the initiative in this proceeding.</p> + +<p>Impatient and sick-hearted, I saw day after day glide past, without an +effort on his part to explain or ameliorate my condition—one now of +excessive and wearing anxiety.</p> + +<p>At last he came. For the first time in his life when a matter of +business was in question, he asked for me. I went to him alone at my own +instance, and somewhat to Evelyn's chagrin, I thought.</p> + +<p>I found him in the library, of late our sole receiving-room; the rest +were closed and fireless. For, since the certainty of our misfortune, we +had received no society, and would not long be obliged to <i>decline</i> it, +Evelyn thought. Her opinion of the world little justified the pains she +had taken to conciliate it.</p> + +<p>I found Mr. Bainrothe buried in the deep reading-chair, always in his +lifetime occupied by my father, his hand supporting his head, his hat +and delicate ivory-headed cane thrown carelessly on the floor beside +him—his whole attitude one of deep dejection.</p> + +<p>He started a little when I addressed him by name, as if reviving from +deep reverie—then arose and extended his hand to me, grasping mine +firmly when I gave it to him, which I did unwillingly I confess.</p> + +<p>"Miriam," he said, "this is all very dreadful!" subsiding into his seat +again with a groan, and looking steadily and silently into the fire for +some minutes afterward. "Very dreadful!" he repeated, shaking his head +dismally; "wholly unforeseen!"</p> + +<p>He glanced at me furtively once or twice to observe the effect of his +words—his manner. Disappointed probably by my silence and coolness, he +again affected to be absorbed in contemplation.</p> + +<p>"Have we any thing left?" I asked quietly, at last—weary as I was of +this histrionic performance of his, and anxious for the truth.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," was the gloomy reply that fell on my ear—on my heart like +molten lead; "nothing but what you know of. This house, this furniture, +well preserved it is true, but old and out of style. Your carriage and +horses—diamonds—in short, what you have in hand. That is all you have +left of the great estate of your mother."</p> + +<p>"It is enough to keep the wolf from the door, at all events," I remarked +quietly, "and I am thankful for a bare competence; but why, under +existing circumstances, were you in such haste to remove the contents of +the iron chest behind the mirror, a portion of which you added to in +September?"</p> + +<p>He rose with dignity and advanced to the corner of the mantel-shelf, on +which he leaned in a perfectly self-possessed position, one foot crossed +lightly over the other, I remember, and one hand at his side—a favorite +attitude of his. He interrupted my interrogatory with another, ever an +effectual aid in browbeating.</p> + +<p>"How did you become possessed of the knowledge that I kept gold there?" +he asked, coolly; "I had meant to have preserved the secret of that +spring until your majority, but you women penetrate every thing. No, my +dear Miriam," he continued, without waiting for an answer, +"unfortunately, the gold you refer to was exchanged for worthless +bank-stocks in September last, according to the requisitions of your +father's will; and, as that was the latest paid in of the loans he had +made, and as all other means had been invested in like manner (and with +a promptness characteristic of me, I believe I may say without vanity), +as they fell into my hands. You will perceive, very clearly, that every +thing, beyond the property I have here pointed out to you, is swept +away."</p> + +<p>I sat confounded by his consummate mendacity. His manner was entirely +changed now—from one of gloomy depression, and absence of mind, to +jaunty self-complacency, and even a degree of defiance was blended with +his habitual coolness. It was only from his lurid and kaleidoscopic +eyes, on which the light from an opposite window fell sharply, as he was +speaking, that a glimpse of the inner man could be obtained. There was +something confused and excited in their expression that did not escape +me, but I kept my counsel, bewildered as I was.</p> + +<p>"She has betrayed me!" was my involuntary reflection; "he was on his +guard for my question or accusation; unconscious of my daily +examination, he has borne away my gold, and it is lost to me forever!" +And I clasped my hands more closely.</p> + +<p>All that I have stated in the last two paragraphs, of my observation and +reflections, passed through my mind like a flash—so that there seemed +scarce a momentary interruption between his last remarks and those which +followed—although so much had been recognized in the interval.</p> + +<p>"It is unfortunate—" I said, merely eying him calmly.</p> + +<p>For the first time during our interview, his eyes +quivered—drooped—fell before mine; but, recovering instantly, he gave +me a clear, cool stare in return for the quiet look of scorn he +encountered. I saw at once the hopeless nature of the case.</p> + +<p>"You will show me your accounts, Mr. Bainrothe," I observed, haughtily; +"I require this at least!"</p> + +<p>"When you have attained your majority, certainly, Miriam, not before. At +present, I have only Evelyn Erle to satisfy on that score, and the law; +I refer you to your guardian."</p> + +<p>"Or whomsoever I choose to substitute as my guardian," I said; "I +believe that privilege vests in me, being over eighteen."</p> + +<p>"There are outside provisions in your father's will that debar you, +unfortunately, from that usual privilege of minors of your age," he +rejoined, quietly. "I regret this for many reasons: I should be glad to +quiet any doubts you may entertain at once, but it is impossible that, +compatibly with self-respect, I can do this, after what you have +insinuated this morning; so you must wait, with what patience you can +command, for the coming of your majority."</p> + +<p>"Nearly two years to wait!" I cried; "I should die before then, if only +of impatience. No, I will know at once. I will write to Mr. Gerald +Stanbury—I will go to the president of the bank—nay, to Mr. Biddle +himself. I will resolve this matter."</p> + +<p>"You will do no such thing, my very dear young friend," said Mr. +Bainrothe, advancing and laying his hand lightly on my arm—I shook it +off, as if it had been a cold, crawling serpent. He retreated quietly +but quickly. "You will do no such thing, Miriam," he repeated, resuming +his post by the mantel-shelf, without evincing the least discomposure at +my behavior to him; "your own good sense, your own good feeling will +come to your assistance when you look this matter fully in the face, and +dispassionately, which I must say you are not doing now. I have not +earned at your hands mistrust and obloquy like this, Miriam; but, for +the sake of the past, I shall strive and bear with the present. Who has +inspired you with such opinions of me?"</p> + +<p>Accomplished hypocrite! He tried to assume a much-injured air, to mingle +forbearance with his reproachful words; but my heart was as hard toward +him as a nether millstone, and his words made no impression on my flinty +feelings, not even enough to strike fire therefrom, or sparks.</p> + +<p>"No one," I replied, "no one; I judge for myself in all instances. Why +did you secrete gold in the dead hour of the night, which, unless you +bore it away in the same mysterious, or even more subtle manner, ought +still to be in its hiding-place? Why did you preserve, even from Evelyn, +your knowledge of that retreat, and the payment of the loan, which she +asserts you have never communicated to her, from first to last? Why make +mysteries of business transactions which, by the tenor of my father's +will, she had a right to participate in, and be consulted about. Why?"</p> + +<p>"I will tell you," he interrupted, gravely, and not without emotion. +"Pause, and I will explain my reasons, painful as it is to me to do +this, and greatly as I compromise myself by so doing, for, should you +choose to be indiscreet, I shall have gained a dangerous enemy. I have +no confidence in Evelyn Erie, in her truth, her sincerity, her honesty, +even. I would not place temptation in her way. There, that is why I +concealed the secrets of the spring-lock and recess in the wall from +her, to secure them for you. As to the depositing of gold in that iron +chest, I did it simply because I knew of no other place so safe and +secret. In my own house none such exists, and, as I never kept gold for +more than a few days after it was received, I thought it scarcely worth +while to place it in the vaults of the bank. As I tell you, it was +removed in September."</p> + +<p>Surely no art was ever greater of its kind than that he manifested on +this trying occasion, yet it fell to the earth, like the shedding scales +of a serpent, before my simple discernment. Yet his words, his manner, +did in some strange and unexplained way greatly exonerate Evelyn in my +estimation, at least for a time, of complicity.</p> + +<p>How could I consistently believe that two persons, entertaining of each +other such similar and degrading opinions, could trust one another +sufficiently to become confederates? Alas! I did not reflect that it is +of such conflicting elements conspirators and conspiracies themselves +are usually made, and that union of guilt creates eternal enmity.</p> + +<p>I could not penetrate such depths of guile! I surrendered myself +readily, I confess, to these fresh convictions. Evelyn was narrow, +selfish, scheming, but, at all events, was not in league with this +vampire. That was much. We might still make common cause against +him—she with her injuries to avenge, I with mine—and preserve intact, +and without his hated interference, that which was left to us at least.</p> + +<p>There was comfort in the thought.</p> + +<p>While these considerations were photographing themselves on my brain, +with that indescribable rapidity of process whereby the action of the +mind excels even that of light, Mr. Bainrothe was again settling himself +down in my father's deep chair, and now once more addressed me in a sad +and broken voice, perfectly well suited to the occasion.</p> + +<p>"Miriam," he said, "I too have been an extensive loser through the +failure of the Bank of Pennsylvania. Like yourself, with the exception +of the house I now reside in, and some few small tenements I hold for +rent, I find every thing swept away from me. Claude, it is true, is +comfortable, and on his slender estate we must both now manage to +support ourselves. You see marriage on his part is now simply out of the +question. He has his father to take care of."</p> + +<p>He said this last in so significant a tone, and apologetic a manner, +that its intent was unmistakable, little dreaming how transparent my +conviction of his crime had made his motives.</p> + +<p>"As far as I am concerned, it was so eighteen months ago," I responded, +and the blood rushed indignantly to my brow. "Yet I hope," I added, +after a moment's hesitation, "that Claude may still marry and be happy."</p> + +<p>"You are still vexed with that boy of mine, Miriam, I see that. Oh, you +are wrong, there! It was not for him, unfledged and inexperienced, to +weigh the precious diamond against the paste pretense! He could not see +you with the eyes of riper judgment and deep feeling accorded to those +who have studied life, and learned its loftiest lessons. Had he looked +through my eyes, Miriam—" (he was standing before me now, his arms +extended, his eyes blazing, his cheeks and lips strangely aglow), "he +would have seen you as you are, the rose, the ruby of the world." He +seized my hand impetuously, and pressed it to his lips, then rushed +wildly away. A moment later, he returned, silently. I was standing +before the silver cistern, I remember, washing away with my handkerchief +an invisible stain from my hand, child-fashion, a loathsome impress, +when I felt his audacious arms thrown suddenly around me, and his hot, +polluting kisses on my face.</p> + +<p>"I love—I love you!" he hissed in my ear, "and sooner or later I will +possess you!"</p> + +<p>Before I could strike him, spit upon him, strangle him with my +hands—the thief, the midnight robber, the slave of lust—he was gone +again. I heard my own wild shrieks resounding through the house, like +those of some strange lunatic. I was for a time frantic with rage and +shame. But no one came to my succor, except poor old Morton. He crept +feebly from the pantry, and found me sobbing in my father's chair. As he +stood meekly before me, leaning on his staff, and looking in my face, my +only friend, so powerless to aid, the whole desolateness of my position +burst upon me, like an overpowering avalanche, I bowed my head and wept.</p> + +<p>"Bear up, bear up, my lamb," he said, in his weak, tremulous voice; "we +have the promise of the Lord to rely on. Has he not said the seed of the +just man should never know want or beg bread? We must believe in the +Gospel, and be strengthened, Miss Miriam."</p> + +<p>And he laid his quivering hand lightly on my head. I took it between +both of my own, and kissed it fervently, bathing it with my tears. +"Morton," I said, "dear old Morton, I have had such a terrible blow to +bear—shame!" and again I was choked with sobs.</p> + +<p>"Shame! Oh, no, my dear young mistress! my birdie child; ruin is not +shame! This could never come near a Monfort, poor or rich! See! such as +these old hands are, they shall work for you to the bone, and, if I +understand matters aright, we still have the good roof left over our +heads, and some little means for all immediate wants. God will put some +good thought in your mind before long. Consult with Miss Evelyn; she is +wise. You are not the first high-born young ladies who have had to teach +a school."</p> + +<p>"Oh, bless you, bless you, Morton, for the thought!"</p> + +<p>All idea of telling him (helpless, as he was, to avenge it) of the +degrading treatment I had received was now laid at rest, and the +practical good sense of a suggestion, that, if successfully carried out, +would take us so completely out of the hands of Mr. Bainrothe, and +insure such complete independence, was felt at once.</p> + +<p>At a glance I saw the expediency as well as the feasibility of the +scheme.</p> + +<p>Our large and secluded establishment was well fitted for a +boarding-school. Our father's spotless name, and our undeserved +misfortunes, were calculated to enlist popular respect and sympathy.</p> + +<p>Evelyn's decided manners and liberal accomplishments, my better +principles and more solid attainments (I viewed things with the naked +eye of truth that day, and thus the balance was struck in its rapid +survey), might all be brought to bear on our new vocation.</p> + +<p>"This is the very thing for us to do, Morton," I said, after a pause, +wiping my eyes, and smiling up into his dear, old, withered face, "I +will acquaint Evelyn with it before I sleep. Ay, and with other matters +as well," I added, mentally. "God help me now!—upon her verdict every +thing depends."</p> + +<p>I met Mabel on the stairway as I ascended to my chamber. She hung about +my neck, in a childish way she had, and kissed me fondly. Perhaps she +had observed my agitated face, in which many emotions contended, +probably (as in my heart), but I only said, "Let me pass now, +darling!—One thing will," I thought, "be secure, under the +contemplated circumstances—your welfare and education, whatever else +betide—beautiful, and good as an angel, you shall be wise as well."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I forgot to tell you, sister Miriam," she cried, running up-stairs, +after we had parted, "Evelyn has gone out, and left this note for you;" +and she placed one in my hand, adding:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Claude Bainrothe was here, while you were in the library with his +father, and they went away together."</p> + +<p>"Where did she receive him, Mabel?—the parlors are closed, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but she was all ready when he came. It was an appointment, I think +he said, to take a walk, and he stood at the front-door, until she went +down, only five minutes, sister Miriam. He did not mind it at all. He +sent her up the letter he had brought from the office, and she read it +out loud to Mrs. Austin. I was there—it was very short."</p> + +<p>"What letter, Mabel?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, about her aunt! This note tells you, I suppose. Evelyn is rich now; +but she had to go to New York to see the lawyer, so Mr. Claude Bainrothe +said, before she could claim the fortune."</p> + +<p>More and more bewildered, I made haste to tear open the sealed note +which Mabel had given me. Its contents were scanty, and not fully +satisfactory.</p> + +<p>"MY DEAR MIRIAM: The ways of Providence are truly strange and +inscrutable, and its balance ever shifting. This morning I rose in +despair, to-night I shall lie down rejoicing; for a way is again opened +to us that will put it beyond <i>his</i> power to annoy or oppress us +further. God knows we have both suffered enough, already, at his hands! +My maiden aunt, Lady Frances Pomfret, is dead, and makes me her heir. I +will show you the lawyer's letter when I return. The legacy is spoken of +in the letter as small, because English people compute property so +differently from ourselves. The attorney lives in New York, who is +empowered by my aunt's English executor to transact this business, and +it seems I; must go to him, Mohammed-like, as this mountain cannot come +to me.</p> + +<p>"Claude Bainrothe is polite enough to offer to escort me to the boat, +which I shall barely reach in time; so, farewell for the present, dear +Miriam. I shall stay with Emma Gilroy, and return in a very few days. +Write to me, however, if I should be detained, to her father's care, and +keep a good heart, until the return of your fortunate</p> + +<p>"EVELYN.</p> + +<p>"P. S.—You know it is little matter, between sisters, which possesses +the property, so all share it. E."</p> + +<p>Claude Bainrothe called that afternoon, and placed in my hand the copy +of the codicil that had been sent to Evelyn, together with the lawyer's +letter to which she had alluded, and which, on consulting with him, she +found it unnecessary to take with her to New York, her identity being +already established, beyond a doubt, with that of the legatee, in the +eyes of the American agent in possession of all the facts of the case +from the London attorney. I examined the codicil closely, and could find +no flaw! It purported to be the last will of the Lady Frances Pomfret, +who revoked all other bequests, in order to bestow her whole property on +her niece, Evelyn Erle.</p> + +<p>I confess I had felt some doubts as to the existence at all of such a +person, of whom I had never before heard mention made, until I read her +last bequest, and saw with my own eyes the business-like letter, +confirming the whole transaction of Mr. James Mainwaring, the London +attorney, with its foreign post-mark, and huge office seal. This was +accompanied by one from a legal gentleman of New York, whose name was +familiar to me, as my father's agent, and which confirmed the truth of +the matter in the most effectual way; for, in his letter, Evelyn was +advised to come to New York and receive her legacy.</p> + +<p>There was nothing more to be said, certainly; still I had strange +misgivings even then, which I felt to be both unjust and ungenerous, yet +could not wholly banish, and again I examined the codicil.</p> + +<p>Claude Bainrothe smiled; it was the first time, let me state <i>en +passant</i>, that we had found ourselves alone together since his return. +"You scrutinize that will as if you were a legal flaw-finder, Miss +Monfort, instead of a very confiding young lady of poetical +proclivities."</p> + +<p>"It is very short!" I said, sententiously, comparing at the same time +the handwriting with that of Mr. Mainwaring, who had in his letter +declared himself the copyist, the original codicil remaining in his +hands, together with the will it had annulled, and finding them the same +unmistakably.</p> + +<p>"Short, but sweet," he remarked curtly, yet smiling again, and extending +his hand for it. "I suppose one of Earl Pomfret's children had trodden +on the tail of the old maid's poodle—she lived with him it seems—and +offended her beyond repair, or something similar had occurred, to make +her change her intentions, which were at first all in his favor, and +revoke her first bequest."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mainwaring does not say so," I remarked, again glancing over his +letter. "He merely observes that it is only important to send a copy of +the codicil, since it revokes all previous bequests. How did you know +her first intentions—have there been other letters?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," he replied, coloring slightly, "but what a lawyer you +are! I scarcely know how I got the idea, to be frank with you; it may be +incorrect after all, but Evelyn will tell you every thing, of course, +when she comes."</p> + +<p>"Let me see the codicil again, Mr. Bainrothe," and I examined it once +more closely, as if by some fascination I could not resist. I remarked +only one peculiarity in the document. One word was written in a cramped +manner, as though space had been wanting—yet much of the sheet of paper +on which it appeared was unoccupied—this was the word "thirty," at the +beginning of the enumeration of moneys, for thirty thousand pounds +(repeated below in figures) was the sum set forth in the codicil as the +bequest of the Lady Frances Pomfret to her niece Evelyn Erle! The five +numerals that represented the same idea as the written words occupied +half of the last portion of the last line, and seemed to my invidious +eyes to make an ostentatious display of the power that may lie in a +cipher, or an array thereof.</p> + +<p>I gloated over the record, with something perhaps of that spirit which +may have lurked in my blood, from the time of Jacob, and which, so far, +had not evinced itself, except perhaps on that occasion when my ear +thrilled to the music of falling gold.</p> + +<p>As I gazed, I mused on the strange fate that took from one sister to +enrich the other so providentially, as it might have seemed.</p> + +<p>The paper had fallen from my nerveless hand before I knew it, and I was +aroused from reverie by Claude's action in stooping for it, and his +voice saying:</p> + +<p>"I will fold up this record, Miriam; it seems to render you gloomy."</p> + +<p>"Thoughtful, certainly," I said, recovering myself, with that impulse of +self-command that belonged to me by nature; "no more—not envious, +Claude, I assure you, however appearances may be against me."</p> + +<p>"Of such a feeling no one could suspect Miriam Monfort," he said, +gallantly; whispering low in the next moment, "one year has made strange +improvement in your beauty, Miriam—you are hardly the same little dark, +quick, yet quiet girl, I parted with when I went to Copenhagen. There is +so much more pose and majesty—more sweetness about you now—and Evelyn +too is changed—oh! sadly—sadly!"</p> + +<p>"I have sometimes feared," I said, keeping down, as best I might; the +emotions conflicting in my bosom—"feared that she might be delicate, +and that her energies consumed her; you must control these, Claude!"</p> + +<p>"I!—why, what on earth can I have to do with Miss Erle and her +energies? you speak in enigmas, Miriam!"</p> + +<p>He was evidently embarrassed by the cool, incredulous look I dropped +upon him. "I had supposed every thing was settled some time ago," I +observed, quietly; "however, I will not bore you with conjectures or +questions, I shall hear every thing, of course, when the proper time +comes; until then, I shall hope to act out Milton's noble line, and +'stand and wait.' And now, if you have a few minutes to spare, do give +me the <i>résumé</i> of your experience at Copenhagen. What of the +climate—what of the people—what of the court? Are the women pretty or +plain, as a general thing—and had Hamlet light or dark hair, think you, +from present indications in the royal family? Or is it the same blood? +For you know that I have an enthusiasm about Denmark! It is such a +little, valiant, fiery, dominant state, and their <i>sagas</i> of the +sea-kings set my blood on flame. This always was a weakness of mine, you +remember."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I recollect perfectly how you used to run on about Elsinore. Well, +I went there frequently, Miriam, and can tell you all about the dreary, +decayed old town, to your utmost satisfaction. Even your romance would +fail, could you behold it now."</p> + +<p>And Claude evinced considerable power, as a word-painter, in the hour +that followed, during the early part of which Mabel appeared at the +door, was silently beckoned in by me, to remain a quiet and delighted +listener, almost to the end of the interview, when Mrs. Austin suddenly +summoned her away; and again Claude Bainrothe and I were left for a few +minutes <i>tête-à-tête</i>. When my visitor departed, or rose to do so, we +shook hands frankly; and I thought, on the whole, he seemed grateful for +my mode of treatment, and the interest I had shown in his narrative—so +entire a proof of the disinterested nature of my feelings, could he only +have thought so! It had probably been his intention to test and probe +them in the beginning, and he had succeeded.</p> + +<p>He lingered a moment, however, on the threshold, gazing at me earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Miriam," he said, reëntering and closing the door, "Miriam, I wish I +could be certain of your friendship. I may put it to fiery proof before +long. Can I rely on you to support me then?"</p> + +<p>"Claude," I rejoined, gravely, "if I can assist you in any useful or +honorable way, I shall be glad to do so, on general principles alone. +You did not respond fairly to my friendly manifestations in times past, +after—after a certain explanation, and the impulse has died away since +then, I confess. Our future lives can have very little in common, I +imagine."</p> + +<p>"Would you not help me to break a loathed chain?" he asked, almost +fiercely. "Bonds are often forced upon a man," he continued, "by the +very reason of his superior strength. It is so hard to resist a pleading +woman! O Miriam! more than any one living, I respect—revere—love—yes, +love you. Pity me! You can assign no secondary reasons now to +professions like these. You are no longer rich—no longer—"</p> + +<p>"Miss Kilmansegg, with the golden leg," I interrupted, derisively. +"Truly you surprise me."</p> + +<p>"O Miriam! how can you treat me with such heartless levity?" and he +wrung his hands bitterly. "I am pushed to desperation already. I never +knew, until I lost you, what you were to me; how superior to all other +women, how pure, how unworldly, how strong, how rich in all mental and +womanly endowments! Hear me, Miriam," and he attempted to take my hand, +an error of which he was soon made conscious.</p> + +<p>"Claude Bainrothe," I said, sternly, "I can tolerate you on one +condition alone—that you respect me. You cease to do this, you, the +betrothed husband of another woman! the moment you sully my ear with +your addresses, your effusions of sentiment. They are no more, I know; +but even these I will not endure from you, nor yet from—" I hesitated; +a hated name had risen to my lips, but I repressed it. He, the son, +surely was not the father's keeper.</p> + +<p>"You do me injustice; before Heaven, you do!" he exclaimed, flinging +back his long curling locks impetuously, by a toss of his superb head, +and bending his blazing eyes upon me. "Hear me, Miriam, I hold the clew +to a secret by means of which I can compel wealth to flow back to your +feet, in the old channels, if you will be mine. You would not have +thought this condition hard a year ago. What has occurred to change you? +You loved me then—by Heaven you love me still! Oh, say so, Miriam, and +make me doubly blessed! Am I deceived in the expression of that beaming +eye? You will pardon, bless me;" and he knelt humbly at my feet, and +clasped my hand.</p> + +<p>"Rise, Claude," I said, "and forgive me if a momentary feeling of +triumph, that may have lit my eye, was mingled with the feeling of +entire emancipation from all past weakness, which this hour so surely +proves, and so satisfactorily, to my own spirit. You are to me like any +other stranger."</p> + +<p>He was standing sullenly before me now, his head dropping on his breast, +his hands loosely clasped before him.</p> + +<p>"You are deceived," I pursued, calmly, "if you imagine from any +expression of mine that one ray of love survives the ruin of other days. +I told you the truth when I said all was over between us forever. Did +you suppose me a woman to sit down in the ashes because one man—one +woman of all God's manifold creation—had proved false, or treacherous, +or ungrateful? I should have wronged my youth, my soul, my descent, my +God, had I so yielded. Go and fulfill your contract faithfully this +time; a second rupture might not go so well with you as the first. There +are persons who are singularly tenacious of their possessions, and who +number their bondsmen as a principal portion of their property. Beware +how you anger such! Your father too. He would be conciliated now, by +what would once have incensed him. Evelyn Erie is rich, Miriam Monfort +is poor; why need I add another word? The suggestion is perfect."</p> + +<p>Coldly, silently, angrily, he left the room. I heard him stamp +impatiently at the hall-door, at some delay apparently in undoing its +fastenings—his childish habit when provoked—such was his haste to be +gone.</p> + +<p>Yet I could scarcely judge, from what had just occurred, taking this, +too, in connection with what had passed long before, when I alone was +the injured and forgiving one, that I had drawn down upon my head his +eternal enmity.</p> + +<p>But thus it proved.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="I_CHAPTER_IX"></a><h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Months passed away—months of dreary, monotonous despondency, through +which ran a vein of anxiety that banished peace. During all this time +matters went on pretty much as they had done before, with one exception, +I held no further intercourse with Mr. Basil Bainrothe. Claude was +absent most of this time on business, for a firm with which he had +lately connected himself, and on the few occasions of his presence at +Monfort Hall treated me with marked formality.</p> + +<p>Evelyn had affected to make light of Mr. Bainrothe's outrage toward me, +though far from defending him. "Men of his years do these things +sometimes," she said, "under the mask of playfulness and fatherly +feeling, and, however unpleasant it may be to bear them, one has to pass +them over. You are right, of course, to be reserved with him henceforth, +Miriam. By-the-by, dear child, your prudery is excessive, I fear, and it +makes a young girl, especially if she is not beautiful, so ridiculous! +But, of course, that even is far better than the opposite extreme. Now, +I flatter myself, I know how to steer the <i>juste milieu</i>, always so +desirable."</p> + +<p>"But, Evelyn," I had rejoined, "his manner was atrocious! I could not—I +would not if I could—give you any idea of its <i>animality</i>; yes, that is +the very word! it makes my blood creep to think of it, even!"</p> + +<p>And I hid my face in my hands, crimson as it was from the +retrospection.</p> + +<p>"Then don't think of it at all. That will be the best way, decidedly," +she had said, tapping me playfully with her fan, then whispering: "This +lover of yours may be useful to us, you know; let us not goad him to +rebellion. You can be as cool as you please, Miriam, but be civil all +the same."</p> + +<p>I surveyed her with flashing eyes. "Such advice," I retorted, "falls but +poorly from your lips, Evelyn Erle, whom my mistaken father dubbed +'propriety personified.' One woman should feel for another's wounded +delicacy, even if a stranger; but, when it comes to sisters, O Evelyn!"</p> + +<p>"And such insolence falls very absurdly from you, Miriam Monfort, under +the circumstances. Sisters, indeed!" she sneered. "It was a claim you +repudiated once!" and, with a sweeping bow, she left me, to repeat +"sisters, indeed!" in my bitter solitude.</p> + +<p>What were these circumstances to which she so haughtily referred? With +my heavy head resting on my weary hands, I sat and contemplated +them—ay, looked them fully in the face! Outwardly, matters stood just +as they had ever done.</p> + +<p>The same circle of servants—of acquaintances—revolved around us. The +house was unchanged, the living identically the same, even to the one +bottle of fine wine per day, carefully withdrawn from the cobwebbed +cellar by Morton, and as carefully decanted for our table.</p> + +<p>But this alone, of all the viands set before us, was furnished at my +expense. My own small hoard of silverpieces had, it is true, from the +time of our ruin, more than sufficed for my absolute wants and Mabel's, +confined, as they were, to mere externals of necessary dress; but all +other outlay, even to the payment of Mabel's masters (I taught her +chiefly myself, however), was met by Evelyn.</p> + +<p>We, the children of a proud man, were dependent on strangers. Look upon +it as I would, the revolting fact stared me out of countenance. Charity, +the chambermaid, had more right to lift an opposing front to Evelyn than +I had; for she earned the bread she ate, while I—there was no use +concealing the mortifying truth any longer—served the apprenticeship of +pauperdom!</p> + +<p>True, the house was legally mine—the furniture I used, the plate I was +served from, the carriage I occasionally drove out in, were all my own +possessions—though, with a slow and moth-like process, I was gradually +consuming these. For, at my majority, it was my determination to pay for +my support in the intervening years, even if I sacrificed every thing in +order to wipe out obligations. Ay, the very corn my horses were eating +(what mockery to keep them at all!) was now furnished by another, and +must eventually be paid for, with interest.</p> + +<p>Then, how would it fare with me, beggared indeed? I would take time by +the forelock; I would begin at once.</p> + +<p>"Evelyn," I had said, not long after the conversation reverted to, "is +there no way in which my property may be fixed, so as to leave the +principal untouched, and still yield an income sufficient for my +support, and that of Mabel? The bread of dependence is very bitter to +me."</p> + +<p>"I ate it long," she said, "and found it passing sweet. You are only +receiving back the payment for an old debt, Miriam. Your father's lavish +generosity can never be repaid, even to his children, by me, who was so +long its happy recipient."</p> + +<p>The words seemed unanswerable at the time, inconsistent as they were +with her past reproaches. Again she said—when the same murmur left my +lips upon a later occasion—looking at me sorrowfully as she spoke, and +with something incomprehensible to me in her expression that affected me +strangely: "Wait until you are of age, Miriam: all can be arranged +definitely then; but now, the waves might as well chafe against the +rocks that bind them in their bed, as you against your condition;" +adding with a tragic look and tone, half playful, of course, "Votre +sort, c'est moi. You remember what Louis XIV. said, 'L'État, c'est moi;' +now be pacified, I implore you—all will still be well," and she patted +my shoulder kindly, and kissed my forehead.</p> + +<p>Her forbearance touched me; but the time came when all this was thrown +aside. It was the old fable again of the bee and the bee-moth. Having +failed in her first efforts, she was now very gradually gluing me +against the hive.</p> + +<p>Evelyn, as I have said, had always been at the head of my father's house +and mine, and, by his will, was still to remain so until my marriage, or +majority—one, usually, in the eyes of the law, in most respects. So it +pained me infinitely less than it must have done had a different order +of things ever existed, to see her supreme at Monfort Hall, and to feel +that every thing emanated from her hand.</p> + +<p>Of all the servants, old Morton alone seemed to feel the difference. +Mrs. Austin had always openly preferred Evelyn to me, and Mabel to +either—so that matters worked very well between those three. For, +though I do not think Evelyn loved Mabel, nor Mabel Evelyn, yet, with +this link between them of servile affection, they managed very well, +without much feeling on either side.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Austin certainly spoiled Mabel, yet she only rendered her +self-indulged, not selfish—for this difference arises out of +temperament and disposition—and no mother could have been more tender +or vigilant of her comfort or welfare, than was this ancient and +attached nurse and servitor. I mention this here, for it reconciled me +later, somewhat, to an inevitable separation, that must have been else +thrice bitter. But the culmination approaches!</p> + +<p>I was lying, one evening, on a deep velvet couch in the library, now +rarely used except for business purposes—for, again, fires and lights +sparkled, in their respective seasons, in the several receiving-rooms of +Monfort Hall, maintained by Evelyn's bounty—when, overpowered by the +influence of the hour, and the weariness of my own unprofitable +thoughts, and perhaps the dreary play of Racine's that I was reading, I +dropped asleep.</p> + +<p>The sofa was placed in a deep embrasure, surrounded with sweeping +curtains, for the convenience of reading in a reclining posture, by the +light of the window, and quite shut away, by such means, from the +remainder of the room.</p> + +<p>To-night, a chilly one in August, very unusual for that season, the +window was down, and the drawn curtains kept off the light of the dim +lamp that swung from the centre of the apartment immediately above the +octagon centre-table.</p> + +<p>I was roused to full consciousness by the sound of voices, which I had +heard indistinctly mingling with my dreams for some time before.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bainrothe and Evelyn were conversing or discussing some subject, +somewhat angrily.</p> + +<p>"You had the lion's share," I heard him say; "you have no reason to +complain. The rest came in afterward, and was all merged in that +sinking ship, and went down with it into the deep waters. It would not +have been as much as you received, had it been saved, which it was not."</p> + +<p>"That is not my concern," she rejoined, dryly; "but for my +communication, Miriam would have secured all next morning. She was bent +upon it. You ought never to forget this."</p> + +<p>"Nor do I; but, after all, you are the chief beneficiary, Evelyn."</p> + +<p>"And your son—do you count his welfare as nothing? Will he not share +with me? Nay, was it not for his sake, chiefly, I warned you, knowing +how implacable else you might be toward us both, and how 'gold would +gild every thing' in your estimation."</p> + +<p>"True, true; but still something is due to me. Undertake this +office—succeed—and command me, eternally. I love that girl, as you +know, as Claude could never love any one, and it will go hard with me if +I do not still inspire her with somewhat of the same sentiment—that is, +with your coincidence."</p> + +<p>"Never, never!" she exclaimed with asperity; "her hatred is too +implacable—the Judaic principle is too firmly grafted in her life. +Truly, she is one of a stiff-necked generation. Her heart is especially +hard toward you, Basil Bainrothe—and, I confess, you were precipitate."</p> + +<p>"I know, I know—but that error can be repaired. I did not think of +marriage <i>then</i>, I confess; after her bankruptcy and scorn to me, things +had not gone so far; her own severity has made me consider the subject +seriously. She is not one to be treated lightly, Evelyn!"</p> + +<p>"Your son found that out to his cost!" was the bitter rejoinder, and I +heard her draw in her breath hard between her closed teeth, with the +hissing sound so familiar to me, and peculiar to her when she labored +under excitement—a sound like that of a roused serpent.</p> + +<p>"Yes, to his cost; but there is no question of that now. Though, I must +say, I think he erred. He, like the base Judean, cast away a pearl +richer than all his tribe!"</p> + +<p>"Thank you!" was Evelyn's curt, ungracious reply.</p> + +<p>I rose from the couch, my hand was on the curtain; painful as it was to +me, I would go forth and confront them both with the acknowledgment of +their conspiracy, their fraud. I would not again listen to bitter truths +as I had done before, involuntarily, when bound hand and foot by the +weakness of my condition. I was strong and courageous now. I had no +excuse for hearing another syllable—I would defy them, utterly!</p> + +<p>All this passed like a flash through my mind.</p> + +<p>On what slight pivots our fate turns sometimes! How small are the +guiding-points of destiny! A momentary entanglement of my bracelet, with +one of the tassels of the curtain, delayed me an instant, inevitably, in +my impulsive endeavor to extricate myself from its meshes, and what I +then heard, determined me to remain where I was, at any cost to my own +sense of pride and honor.</p> + +<p>Fear, abject fear, obtained complete ascendency over every sense, and +personal safety became my sole consideration. I, who had boasted so +lately of my courage, felt the cold dew of cowardice bathe my brow, its +tremor shake my frame.</p> + +<p>They were plotting—deliberately plotting, as the price of secrecy on +one part—to shut me up in a lunatic asylum until my consent could be +obtained to that ill-starred marriage!</p> + +<p>"Every thing is favorable to this undertaking," I heard Mr. Bainrothe +say; "her own moody and excitable condition of late—the absence of her +physician (meddlesome people, those conscientious medical men sometimes +prove, even when not asked for an opinion!)—Mrs. Austin's testimony as +to those lethargies, which would be conclusive of itself—our own +disinterestedness, so fully proved by our devotion to her and Mabel, +under difficulties—her mother's mysterious malady—all these things +will make it easy to carry out this plan in which your cheerful +coincidence, and perhaps Claude's even, will be essential."</p> + +<p>"I doubt whether you succeed in gaining him over," she remarked, coldly; +"and, as to me, I shall act as you desire, perhaps, but any thing but +'cheerfully,' I assure you. I consider it a mighty price to pay for—" +she hesitated.</p> + +<p>"A fortune and a husband?" he queried. "Claude has his suspicions, I +well know, but they rest on me alone so far. Could he be convinced of +your part in distracting Miriam's gold from its legitimate channel, +believe me, he would turn his back on you forever! I know the man."</p> + +<p>"Yet he saw me—he must have seen me—alter that word in the codocil to +my aunt's legacy—asking no explanation at the time, receiving none +thereafter."</p> + +<p>"That was different; he thought it a piece of vainglory on your part +alone, amounting to nothing, if, indeed, he observed it at all. No, no, +Evelyn Erle! if you expect to carry out your views, you must aid me in +executing mine. I shall keep your secret from my son on no other +conditions. We are confederates or nothing in this matter, you see."</p> + +<p>"And suppose, in return, I publish yours to the world," she suggested, +coolly; "brand you with baseness? What then, Basil Bainrothe—what +then?"</p> + +<p>"You dare not!" was the prompt reply. "I hold written propositions of +yours on the subject—you have not a scratch of a pen of mine to show. I +should declare simply that you were a frustrated rogue, that is all. Who +could prove otherwise?" He laughed in his derisive way. There was a +bitter pause.</p> + +<p>"What is it you want me to do?" she asked, hoarsely, at its expiration. +"State definitely what you exact from me in return for your +forbearance—your <i>honorable</i> secrecy?" There was exquisite irony in her +tone.</p> + +<p>"Simply this," he said, calmly, taking no notice of her emphasis—"you +are to accompany Miriam to the asylum and act as her nurse and guardian +until my point is gained. You shall be present at every interview, and +you shall both be made perfectly comfortable—treated like ladies; in +short, every propriety shall be sacredly observed, and, on the day on +which her marriage with me is solemnized, you may both return to Monfort +Hall—you as its head, and Claude as its master; Miriam will go home +with me, her husband, of course, and all will be settled. Now, I give +you twenty-four hours wherein to consider this proposition. At the end +of that time, if you still hesitate, Claude shall know every thing. You +can then take your chances with him—he may be ready to take a felon for +a wife, for aught I know, after all!"</p> + +<p>"Come, then, to-morrow evening," she acceded, after a second pause, and +in low, angry accents, "and I will acquaint you with my +determination—my necessity rather." They parted thus and there.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="I_CHAPTER_X"></a><h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Nearly dead with terror and indignation, I crept stealthily to my own +chamber, in which I locked myself up securely, resisting all friendly +overtures of the enemy, except one cup of tea, received from the hand of +a servant through the half-opened door (which was instantly relocked) of +my citadel.</p> + +<p>My resolution was formed that night. I would leave Monfort Hall, and +even forsake Mabel, until I could return and legally claim both. At my +majority, Mabel would be of age to select between her guardians, by that +time, according to law, and—we should see! As for poor Morton, I would +write to him and claim his prayers alone. Age like his is so +irresponsible. I dared not trust him farther!</p> + +<p>It was all very brief and bitter!</p> + +<p>As yet I had digested no plan of action. I would go westward, I thought, +but just as far away as my money would carry me from these fiends, +trusting to God for the rest, just as a boat puts off from a blazing +ship.</p> + +<p>Of course, I must adopt another name—what should it be? I should need +clothing; and <i>how</i> secure and convey away my trunk unseen by Evelyn? My +diamonds must be secreted or disposed of—how should this be done? Could +I trust Mrs. Austin—Mabel?</p> + +<p>No, the suggestion was discarded at once as unworthy of consideration.</p> + +<p>One was too old, too self-indulged, too selfish; and in age people +usually worship expediency alone. The other far too young not to be +necessarily indiscreet and impulsive. To have been otherwise at her +tender age would have been simply monstrous!</p> + +<p>No, I must forego even the sweet satisfaction of saying farewell to +Mabel; we must part perhaps forever, as we might meet again within an +hour, and all her distress and anxiety must pass unshared and unheeded.</p> + +<p>There was no one else I cared very much about leaving, but the love of +locality was a strong feature in my disposition, and every room in my +father's house was dear to me, as was every book in his study, and every +plant in our deep-green, shadowed garden.</p> + +<p>The very streets were sacred in my sight, that I had trodden from +childhood, but my liberty was more precious to my heart than scenes of +old associations, and to gain one the other must be sacrificed. There +was no hesitating now: I was on the tread-mill of fate, and must +proceed, or fall and be crushed beneath.</p> + +<p>And here again I repeat, what I have said so recently: "On what slight +pivots our destiny often turns!—through what small channels Providence +works its wondrous ways!"</p> + +<p>A pair of shoes had been sent home for me that day, which still lay on +the table, wrapped and corded. In truth, they came very opportunely; "I +shall want these soon," I thought, as I examined the strong and elastic +bootees, which had been made for me in view of my morning walks, a part +of dear Dr. Pemberton's regimen, which I strenuously and advantageously +carried out.</p> + +<p>As I spoke, the paper in which they had been enveloped rustled down on +the floor by my side. I stooped, languidly, to pick it up, merely from a +sense of order, and my eye fell on a long column, headed "Wanted," and, +almost for lack of resolution to withdraw it, wandered down its +paragraphs, step by step.</p> + +<p>It was a Democratic paper, such as was never patronized by +Evelyn—herself a zealous conservative in politics, as our father had +been before us—and, as I cared little for newspaper-reading, I had +never suggested a subscription to any sheet that she did not fancy, +although I inclined to democracy.</p> + +<p>I was somewhat amused by the quaintness of some of the advertisements of +this sheet for the people, that style of literature being new to me; and +found myself smiling over the perfections set forth as necessary, by the +paragons of the earth, in both wife and servant, when I came to a dead +stand. Here was the very thing I should have selected, could I have +chosen my own destination instead of depending on <i>chance</i> (as if, +indeed, there were such a thing <i>possible</i> with God—the predestinator +of the universe), or necessity (is the name a much better one as applied +to the all-seeing Deity?), or fate (a more comprehensive but little +less-abused term, perhaps), to do this for me!</p> + +<p>The advertisement ran thus, and quite fascinated me with its +eccentricity, as well as congeniality to my condition:</p> + +<p>"A gentleman and lady, now sojourning for a short time at the Mansion +House, wish to employ, immediately, for the benefit of their children, +an instructress, who must be, <i>imprimis</i>, a lady—and young; secondly, +soundly constituted and well educated; thirdly, a good reader, and able +to teach elocution, and entertain a circle; fourthly, willing to reside +with cheerfulness on a Southern plantation; fifthly, content with a +moderate <i>modicum</i> as salary. None other need apply—no references given +or asked. Inquire for <i>Somnus</i>."</p> + +<p>I laid down the paper, and drew a long, free breath; then rang a peal of +merriment, startling under the circumstances. It was the first hearty +laugh that had left my lips for many days. "What an oddity, one or the +other of these people must be!" I thought, "the man most probably—yes, +I am sure it is he—no woman ever was so independent of references, or +made youth a <i>sine qua non</i>, nor elocution either. But am I soundly +constituted? ay, there's the rub! suppose my terrible foe sees fit to +interfere, 'Epilepsy,' as Evelyn called it, and perhaps with reason—God +alone knows!—what then? Well, I will hazard it—that is all—I will +charge nothing for lost days, and try to be zealous in the interval; +besides, it is a long time since one of these obliteration spells +occurred; for I shall ever believe Evelyn dosed me for her own purposes +on that last occasion! Fiend!—fiend!—and yet my little sister <i>must</i> +remain in such hands for a season, protected by her guardian angel +only."</p> + +<p>I passed a feverish night, employing the first part of it in quilting my +diamonds into a belt which I placed about my waist; and the remainder in +putting together as many useful, as well as a few handsome clothes, as +my travelling-trunk would contain; bonnets, evening-dresses, which +require room to dispose of, and the like vanities, I abandoned to +Evelyn's tender mercies. I rose early and, as usual whenever the weather +permitted, sallied forth before breakfast, but this time unaccompanied +by my usual attendant, Charity.</p> + +<p>The "Mansion House" was at no great distance from our own residence. +The beautiful home of the Bingham family, then converted into an hotel, +destroyed by fire at a later period, like our own house, was situated in +the ancient part of the city, from which fashion had gradually emerged, +and shrank away to found new streets and dwellings.</p> + +<p>I rang at the private door, and asked the porter for "<i>Somnus</i>;" at the +same time sending up a card, on which was written:</p> + +<p>"'Miriam Harz,' applicant for the post of teacher."</p> + +<p>A few moments later a grave, copper-colored servant, respectably clad, +and with an air of responsibility about him that was almost oppressive, +invited me solemnly to follow him up the winding marble stair—so often +trodden by the feet of Washington and his court, when a gracious +assemblage filled the halls above—and ushered me into a small but lofty +parlor at its head, in which a gentleman sat reading the morning +journal.</p> + +<p>Very wide awake, indeed, seemed he who affected the title of the god of +sleep, as he arose courteously from his chair, still holding his paper +in one hand, and waved me to a seat on the worn horse-hair sofa between +the windows.</p> + +<p>He was a tall, thin, sallow, hooked-nosed gentleman, of middle age, with +a certain air of distinction about him in contrast with his singular +homeliness.</p> + +<p>"Miss Harz?" he said, interrogatively, glancing at the card over the +mantel-shelf—near which he had been sitting—above an unseasonable, +smouldering coal-fire.</p> + +<p>I bowed affirmatively for all reply. "And I," he continued, "am Prosper +La Vigne, of the '<i>Less durneer</i>' settlement" (for thus he pronounced +this anglicized French name) "Maurice County, Georgia," with an air +that seemed to say, "You have heard of me, of course!" and again I +bowed, as my only alternative.</p> + +<p>"Lay off your bonnet, if you please," he said, coolly; "I would like to +see the shape of your head before proceeding further. Mine, you see, is +an ill-balanced affair," smiling quizzically in his effort to be +condescending, perhaps. "This is a mere business transaction, you know," +seeing that I hesitated to comply, "and your phrenological developments +must atone for my deficiencies, or all will go wrong at once—but do as +you like. Now that you have thrown back your veil, I can see that the +brow is a good one. That will suffice, I suppose. I will take the moral +qualities on trial for the nonce. My wife is wholly occupied with her +domestic and private affairs, you must understand, when we are at home, +and much will devolve on you; that is, if we suit one another, which is +dubious. That reminds me! I have not heard the sound of your voice yet; +I am much governed by intonation in my estimates of people, and usually +form a perfect opinion at first sight. Be good enough to read this +item," and he handed me the morning paper, formally indicating it with +his long, lithe forefinger. It was from one of Mr. Clay's speeches. I +did as he requested, without hesitation.</p> + +<p>"People trot out horses and negroes when they wish to purchase; why not +governesses?" I questioned, dumbly. "He did well to ask no references; +his examination is thorough, I perceive," and I laid the paper down, +half amused, half provoked, when I had finished. He was gazing at me +open-mouthed—no unusual thing with him, I found later—and was silent +for a few moments.</p> + +<p>"Splendid! admirable!" he exclaimed, suddenly; "both, voice and +elocution perfect—you possess the greatest of all accomplishments, +madam, next to conversational excellence," rising to his feet, and +bowing low and seating himself again, in a formal way of his own. "Music +is a mockery compared to such reading! as well set a jew's-harp against +the winds of heaven! You understand my meaning, of course; it is not +precisely that, however. Now let us converse a little."</p> + +<p>"The advertisement did not refer to that, I believe, as a condition," I +said, somewhat indignantly, and flushing hotly as I spoke. "I really +cannot converse to order. I am a person of moods, and do not feel always +like talking at all," and I rose and prepared to draw down my veil, take +up my parasol, and depart.</p> + +<p>"I like you none the worse for a proper exhibition of spirit," he said, +nodding kindly, and settling himself once more to his paper composedly. +"Sit still, miss, and compose yourself by the time Madame La Vigne comes +in, or she <i>may</i> think you high-tempered, and I am sure you are nothing +of the kind—only very properly proud. There, now, that is right! You +seem to be a very sensible, well-conditioned young person indeed, and I +think you will suit. You are the tenth since yesterday morning," smiling +and bowing blandly, "and the only one that could read intelligibly. +Elocution, you see, is my hobby. I forgot to say," looking up from his +paper, after a pause, "the salary is six hundred dollars—not enough, +perhaps, for a lady of your merit—but quite as much as we can afford to +give. This I call a <i>modicum</i>."</p> + +<p>"It is not very important," I remarked, "what I receive in the shape of +money, so that I am at no expense beyond my clothing, and other personal +matters, and that I find myself well situated. My engagement will, in +no case, extend beyond a year. You have your peculiarities, I see, and +I have mine. The question is, might they not jar occasionally?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, never, never! '<i>noblesse oblige</i>,' you know," with a wave of the +hand, soft and urbane. "I hope I shall know how to treat a lady and a +teacher, both in one, and a member of my household. Besides that, I +shall have very little to do with you, indeed. Just now it is +different—we are coming to terms; we have not made them yet, however. I +always save my wife this trouble, if possible.—Ah! there she comes, at +last," as a mild, lady-like looking woman emerged from an adjoining +chamber, somewhat elaborately dressed for that early hour, and followed +by a stream of pale, pretty little girls. "Madame La Vigne," he said, +rising ceremoniously, "permit me to introduce to you Miss Miriam Harz," +reading the name slowly from the card again, which he took from the +wall, "'a candidate for the position of instructress at +Beauseincourt.'—Say, how do you like her looks?"</p> + +<p>I had come to the conclusion by this time that Mr. La Vigne was +decidedly as eccentric as his advertisement, and that his vagaries and +personalities were not worth minding or estimating in the consideration +in question.</p> + +<p>So, when Madame La Vigne replied to his abrupt query, "Oh, very, <i>very</i> +much, indeed!" and held out her kind hand to me, I took it without +misgiving, and the first glance we interchanged contained freemasonry. +From that time Colonel Prosper La Vigne fell gracefully back into his +proper position, and I talked away fluently enough with his lady, as he +pompously called his wife. In short, at the end of an hour it was +settled that I was to join them the same evening, at their hotel, and +proceed with them thence to New York, there to take the packet for +Savannah (their first destination) on the same night. The plantation on +which they lived, they informed me, was nearly a day's journey, by +carriage-conveyance, beyond that city, but eligibly situated for health +(though not for productiveness), among a low range of hills known as the +"Les Dernier" Mountains, the name being anglicized into "Less derneer," +with the accent on the last syllable, so as to metamorphose it +completely to the ear, instead of translating it.</p> + +<p>"It is a very lonely place though, Miss Harz, in the winter-time—mamma +ought to tell you that," whispered Marion, the eldest daughter, as she +nestled so closely to me, and looked so kindly in my face, that the +intruding thought of her unwillingness for my society was instantly +banished. "In the summer it is pleasant enough, so many people come to +their cottages in the hills; but, during eight months of the year, we +have but one near neighbor, and not a very social one either."</p> + +<p>"From circumstances alone unsocial, Marion," said Madame La Vigne, +flushing slightly (her usual complexion was of a fair sallowness, common +to Southern ladies). "Cousin Celia is certainly devoted at heart to +every one of us, but she cannot, you know, leave home often."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know, mamma! I only meant to keep Miss Harz from being +disappointed."</p> + +<p>"Miss Harz has internal resources, I have no doubt," rejoined Madame La +Vigne; "and, even if she had not, I fear her duties would preclude much +longing for excitement.—It is a very onerous task you are undertaking, +my dear young lady, certainly," turning kindly to me. "Five ignorant +little Southern girls, well disposed but imperfectly trained, will fill +your hands to positive overflowing, I fear. You will find me exacting, +too, sometimes. I am sure I shall enjoy your society whenever you +choose to bestow it on me, and Colonel La Vigne as well."</p> + +<p>To which declaration on the part of his wife, that gentleman responded +by laying his hand on his breast, complacently, and bowing profoundly +from his chair, ending the ceremony by a flourish of his delicate +cambric handkerchief, and the exhibition at the same time of a slender, +sickly, and peculiarly-shaped hand, decorated with an onyx seal-ring. He +looked the gentleman, however, unmistakably plain and peculiar as his +appearance was, and pompous and pretentious as was his manner.</p> + +<p>If words could do the work of the photographer, I should like to show +him to my readers, as he appeared to me on that first interview; though +later his whole aspect underwent a change in my sight, reflected from +the cavernous depths within, so that, what seemed somewhat ludicrous in +the beginning, came to be solemnly serious and even sophistically +tragical and awful on later acquaintance.</p> + +<p>We have all more or less witnessed this phenomenon of transformation in +some familiar aspect, either through love or hatred, respect or +contempt, fear or admiration, until we find ourselves marveling at past +impressions, received, in ignorance of the truth, in the commencement of +our observations.</p> + +<p>I remember that Mr. La Vigne struck me on that occasion as a superficial +man in every way, but kindly, courteous, and vivacious, though certainly +eccentric and somewhat absurd. One would have supposed him even a +flippant, whimsical person, seen casually; but, on later examination, +the droop of his eyelids and under lip, and the depressed corners of his +mouth, gave to the close observer a surer indication of his character.</p> + +<p>The shape of his narrow, conical, and somewhat elegantly-placed head, +denoted an inclination to fanaticism, which had been skillfully combated +by a perfectly skeptical education, so as to turn this stream of +character into strange channels.</p> + +<p>Hobbyism was his infirmity, perhaps, and he was essentially a man of one +idea at a time. The word "odd" applied to him peculiarly, which is in +itself a sort of social ostracism when attached to any one, and raises a +barrier at once between a man and his fellow-bipeds that not even +superiority could surmount.</p> + +<p>He was emphatically a tawny man as to coloring—hair, skin, and eyes, +being all pretty much of the same hue of "the ribbed sea-sands." Yet +there were vestiges about him of an originally fair complexion. His +wrists and temples were white as those of a woman. His face was long, +lank, and cadaverous; his eyes shone with a clear, amber, and steady +light, and had an abstracted expression usually, accompanied with a not +unfrequent and most peculiar warp of the pupils.</p> + +<p>His hair was singularly shaggy and picturesque in its tawny grayness, +and wavy, wiry length. Above his eyes his heavy brows of the same +texture and color seemed to make a pent-house, from which the high, pale +brow receded gradually; his profile was aquiline to absolute +grotesqueness. The idea of "Punchinello" presented itself irresistibly +at the sight of his parrot-like nose and suddenly-upturned chin.</p> + +<p>His gait was as peculiar as his countenance and manner; he glided, in +walking, carrying himself erectly, with his arms closely pinioned to his +sides. He was altogether so extraordinary looking that I felt myself +staring almost rudely at him on our first interview; yet his dress was +in no way remarkable except for an air of old-fashioned and speckless +neatness.</p> + +<p>Madame La Vigne was a pretty and well-preserved woman, of about +thirty-five, a fair brunette, originally, to whom most of her daughters +bore a close resemblance. One alone, the plainest of the band, +presenting a resemblance, most unfortunately for her, of "Colonel La +Vigne," as his wife called him, with scrupulous punctilio.</p> + +<p>One son, the eldest of their family, they spoke of as the pride of their +hearts even on that first interview. He was in the navy, and, +consequently, much from home. They regretted this for many reasons, they +said, and, among others, on my account. He was so genial, so +companionable—their own dear Walter—"such a delightful fellow," as his +sister Madge declared exultingly—the second of this band of +sisters—and, as far as I could observe, on first acquaintance, the +brightest. Marion, the elder, was extremely pretty and gentle; and +Bertie, the third, taciturn and unprepossessing, yet evidently sensible. +She it was who alone resembled her father.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Fortunately, for the uninterrupted success of my scheme, Evelyn had one +of her sick turns that day, and remained closely shut up in her room. At +one o'clock, I summoned Franklin to my chamber.</p> + +<p>"There is a trunk," I said, "that I wish you would take to the Mansion +House—to the care of a Mr. Somnus lodging there—here is the card +attached, with his name; place it with his baggage. It is to go to New +York, for a Miss Harz, a relation of mine—a teacher, I believe, who has +applied to me for assistance; but he understands all that, so you need +not be at, any trouble to explain. Be quiet, Franklin, in removing it, +as Evelyn is very nervous to-day, and dislikes noise; and go with the +drayman yourself to insure its safe delivery."</p> + +<p>So passed my first lesson in deception, but I schooled lip and eye to +obedience, so that Franklin suspected nothing, and, being a discreet +servant, who never let his right hand know what his left was doing, +especially when gold crossed the palm, I was sure of silence on the +subject, at least until after my own departure.</p> + +<p>Mabel and I dined <i>tête-à-tête</i> at two; I had caused dinner to be served +earlier than usual for my own convenience, though indeed I found it a +mere form—for how could I swallow a morsel, choked as I was with grief, +while the fair child I worshipped, yet was forsaking, sat so calmly and +unconsciously in my sight!</p> + +<p>After dinner I sought Mrs. Austin, leading Mabel by the hand. I had been +kissing her, almost wildly, every foot of the way up-stairs, and she +gazed on me, I could not help perceiving, with a sort of fond surprise, +for it was not my habit to lavish such passionate caresses, even on her, +without occasion.</p> + +<p>"I am obliged to go out now," I said, in a broken voice, which I vainly +tried to command. "Take our darling, Mrs. Austin, and keep her very +safely until I come again. Promise me this!" I added, eagerly seizing +her hand.</p> + +<p>"La! Miss Miriam, what's the use of promising for one afternoon, when I +have taken the best of care of her all her life? You act so singularly +to-day!" she added, pettishly, and she began to smooth Mabel's hair, +grumblingly. I turned away without another word, murmuring blessings in +my heart on that dear head.</p> + +<p>There was no time to be lost now! The carriage was already at the door +of the Mansion House to convey us to the steamboat when I reached it, +and Colonel La Vigne standing, rather anxiously, on the pavement, +looking up and down.</p> + +<p>"I was afraid you had rued your promise and were not coming," said +Marion, springing forth from the door-way eagerly, to greet me.</p> + +<p>"And we had forgotten to ask your address," added Madame La Vigne, "or +we might have called for you, and saved you a long walk, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"We should not have carried off your trunk, even had you not appeared, +Miss Harz," said Colonel La Vigne, blandly. "There it is you see, +distinctly labeled, on the baggage-wagon in front, directed to the care +of 'Mr. Somnus!'—a good deal of waggery about you, I perceive, or had +you forgotten my name?"</p> + +<p>"No, no! I had reasons—but, you remember, no questions were to be +asked; you must wait for voluntary communications."</p> + +<p>"I am so glad—so glad you are going with us!" said little Louey La +Vigne, pressing my hand, as she sat before me in the carriage by Aunt +Felicité, her nurse—Colonel La Vigne and three of his daughters having +been consigned to another hack—Louey and her sable attendant, stately +with her large gold ear-hoops, and brilliant cotton handkerchief, being +inseparable accompaniments of his wife.</p> + +<p>"I have banished Mr. La Vigne, I fear," I said, in a broken voice; "it +would have been best for me, perhaps, to have gone with the young +ladies. Let me begin at once."</p> + +<p>"No, it is much best as it is," she answered, affectionately; "think of +yourself just now, and take no charge until we all get home. You are +our guest until then, remember. I know it is a sad trial to go with +strangers, but you will find us friends, I hope;" and she clasped my +hand in hers, and so held it until we reached the wharf.</p> + +<p>Tears rained down my face, beneath the friendly shelter of my veil, but +Madame La Vigne, with the tact of good-breeding, affected not to remark +them. Once little Louey, a child of eight years old, the youngest and +prettiest of all, leaned forward, as if to soothe or question me, but +she was plucked quickly back into her place by the decorous Aunt +Felicité, who had not lived so long with quality without acquiring some +delicacy of behavior, at least, even if it struck no deeper root.</p> + +<p>I had commanded myself, before the carriage stopped beside the panting +steamboat, and soon we were gliding along the placid river toward the +point whence the railroad was to carry us on to our goal. At New York, +we found ourselves hurried for time to reach the packet Magnolia, and +went directly from the depot to the quay, for embarkation.</p> + +<p>By the pilot, who left us at the Narrows, I sent back a few lines to +Mabel, also enjoining him, with the gift of a piece of gold, to mail my +letters on the following day, and receiving his promise to do so.</p> + +<p>In this brief communication, I promised my dear child that we should +meet at my majority, and enjoined her to patience. "You will hear from +me again before long," I said, in conclusion; "and I will try and +arrange some plan of correspondence. Bad people have obliged me to this +step. Do not forget me, my darling, nor my lessons and counsel, and +believe ever in the honor and devotion of your sister. <i>Pray for me, +Mabel</i>! MIRIAM."</p> + +<p>My letter to Evelyn Erie, without date, written on the ship, and sent +back by the pilot to be mailed also at New York, revealed my +acquaintance with a portion of her duplicity, and Mr. Bainrothe's dark +design.</p> + +<p>I promised her my forgiveness on two conditions alone: one was, that she +should not seek to trace me, since all effort to regain me would be +fruitless; another, that she would be kind to Mabel, and my father's +ancient servants until my return, and, of these last, especially Morton.</p> + +<p>I uttered no threats nor reproaches—asked no favors, beyond those which +I had a right to demand at her hands as my father's ward—long supported +by him, and even cherished with paternal tenderness—and the guardian of +his child. I knew that the use of my house and furniture would amply +compensate her for all Mabel's expenses, among the principal of which +would be that liberal education which I demanded for her, as her right.</p> + +<p>I was very nearly twenty, now; Mabel, ten. There was still time to +redeem the past, and carry out all my frustrated intentions, after the +expiration of one year of abeyance and exile. Yes! I would "stand and +wait," trusting so "to serve."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="LIFE_AT_quotLESDERNIERquot"></a><h2><i>LIFE AT "LESDERNIER."</i></h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Break the dance and scatter the song,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Some depart, and some remain;<br /></span> +<span><i>These</i> beyond heaven are borne along,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Others the bonds of earth retain."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>SHELLEY.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>PART II.</h2> + +<h2><i>LIFE AT "LESDERNIER."</i></h2> + +<a name="AN_INTERLUDE"></a><h2>AN INTERLUDE.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>I purpose here to give only a brief sketch of my sojourn under the roof +of the La Vignes. In another book, and at another time, when some that +now live shall have passed away, or years shall have made dim the memory +of results rather than events (for until <i>then</i> the last must continue, +with their causes, to be <i>mysteries</i>), I may unfold the tissues of a +dire tragedy enacted, by some strange providence, under my peculiar view +alone, and thus inexplicable to others.</p> + +<p>Of this no more, not even a hint, at present; lest, dropping the +substance for the shadow, the reader should cease to find interest where +I most wish to concentrate it for a season. The heroine so far of my own +story, I cannot yet voluntarily relinquish the privilege of sympathy, so +dear to the narrator of adventure, though I did, indeed, for a time +forget my own identity in the dark shadow, the mysterious crimes, the +unprecedented and speedy retributions that followed quickly on the heels +of guilt at Beauseincourt.</p> + +<p>The picturesque old place, with its quaint French name and architecture +and antique furniture, did truly at first enchant my fancy (which +learned to shudder at its aspect later), as did, in the beginning, the +contiguous estates of "Bellevue" with its exquisite grounds, fountains, +and white-stuccoed mansion closely simulating the finest Italian marble. +Later, in accordance with the law of associations, this, too, became as +sorrowful in my sight as was the Hall of Vathek to those who mingled in +its mournful yet magnificent pageantry.</p> + +<p>The denizens of this lonely abode were a most interesting couple. Still +young comparatively, virtually childless, and bearing the name (also a +Huguenot appellation) of "<i>Favraud</i>" the husband was bright, +intelligent, frivolous—the wife, an invalid of rare loveliness and +sweetness of character, who seldom emerged from her solitude. Both were +perfectly well bred.</p> + +<p>These were relatives of Colonel La Vigne, whose son Walter was the +residuary legatee of Bellevue, with but one imbecile life, after that of +Madame Favraud, between him and enormous wealth. Great intimacy existed +between the families, although from circumstances—nameless here—the +ladies seldom met, and never at Bellevue.</p> + +<p>Major Favraud was a constant visitor at Beauseincourt, when on his +estates. He was, however, of a roving disposition, and, though tenderly +attached to his wife, was often absent, negligent, and careless of her +feelings. He was a renowned duelist, and deemed a challenge the +essential element and result of every unsettled discussion. A typical +Southerner of his day, I felt keen interest in the scrutiny of his +character, until events developed those venomous tendencies which came +very near destroying my peace of mind forever, with the life of the +noble man whom, after a brief acquaintance, I had learned to love +against my own desires.</p> + +<p>The occasion of this belligerent demonstration was afforded at the +Christmas festival, held yearly at Beauseincourt, by Colonel and Mrs. La +Vigne—in the great, many-windowed drawing-room with its waxed +parquet—its ebony-framed mirrors, its pier consoles, and faded damask +furniture.</p> + +<p>There were assembled around the bright pine-fire, on the occasion of +this universal anniversary, neighbors, and guests from a distance, +invited specially for a certain number of days, among whom the +unexpected advent of a troop of engineers, of Northern extraction, made +a desirable variety.</p> + +<p>One of these gentlemen only, the chief-engineer, who came to make new +roads for Lesdernier,<a name="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> by order of government, had already been a +visitor of some weeks, and a strong attachment, vital from the first, +had sprung up between us; so far, unacknowledged by either.</p> + +<p>During the dessert which succeeded the sumptuous Christmas-dinner, where +old and young took part, and "all went merry as a marriage-bell," the +health of John C. Calhoun, then heading the nullification party, was +formally proposed by Colonel La Vigne, as "first of men, and greatest of +statesmen."</p> + +<p>This toast Captain Wentworth (the chief of the corps of engineers) +tacitly refused to drink, and was seconded in this resolve by all of his +party. There was, however, no active demonstration of unwillingness.</p> + +<p>The representatives of government contented themselves with pressing +their hands above their glasses, and so refusing to fill them with the +wine that flowed freely to the welcome pledge, standing rigidly and +silently while it was drunk with enthusiasm by the remaining guests—all +Southern and sectional.</p> + +<p>This defalcation to the common cause was apparently unnoticed at the +time, but was made the subject of remark, and subsequently of a +challenge by the Mars of the family, as Gregory denominated Major +Favraud—a challenge which circumstances compelled Captain Wentworth +reluctantly to accept.</p> + +<p>No fire-eater, yet truly brave, he weighed the matter well, and decided +on his course; the one most expedient, if not absolutely necessary for a +stranger whose character for courage had still to be proved. In the +interval of the pending duel, of which all the inmates of Beauseincourt +were unconscious, save its master, who considered it as a mere matter of +course, Gregory (to whom I have alluded, the evil genius of the house +henceforth) arrived to reënforce the engineering corps.</p> + +<p>Subtle, accomplished, versatile, graceful even in his singular +homeliness, and peculiar insolent style of address, he yet made himself +so acceptable to the family as to dare to seek the hand of the second +daughter of Colonel La Vigne, and, though at first tolerated by her +parents only, at last came to be well received.</p> + +<p>At the very time that he was enlisting the innocent heart of Madge, he +was making to me, the governess, whenever he could find the slightest +opportunity, avowals of a desperate and audacious passion, which waxed +the stronger for the absolute loathing vouchsafed in return. In this +place it may be as well to reveal the end of this ill-fated and +unsuitable courtship, which never had my sanction, nor even toleration. +When the cloud gathered over Beauseincourt, so soon to burst in fury and +destruction, when ruin was imminent, Gregory withdrew on frivolous +pretexts, and turned his back on Lesdernier, and her who had so loved +him, forever!</p> + +<p>While pretending to be the devoted friend and even abject servant of +Captain Wentworth, he was seeking, in every way, and on every hand, +secretly to undermine him. This effort produced in my mind only mistrust +and disdain; but with others it was, unfortunately, more successful.</p> + +<p>Soon after my arrival at Lesdernier, I found, in one of the papers that +I had ordered to be sent there from my native city to the address of +"Miss Harz," an atrocious advertisement, describing me personally as an +escaped lunatic, and offering a reward for my apprehension. Fortunately, +these papers were not objects of interest to the family in which I found +myself, where periodicals of all sorts were rife, as well as books, +ancient and modern, and newspapers were thick as leaves in Vallambrosa.</p> + +<p>In the silence of my chamber I read and destroyed, or concealed this +evidence of enmity, malice, and all uncharitableness. I would trust no +one with my identity—none save God—until the hour should come of my +majority and emancipation; then, armed with Judaic vengeance, I would +return to claim my sister, my fortune, and my rights.</p> + +<p>Soon afterward I read in the same sheet, sent weekly to Lesdernier, the +notice of the marriage of Claude Bainrothe and Evelyn Erle. This was the +test of truth! I bore it bravely. Not a heart-beat gave tribute to the +love of other days. The fire was dead, and ashes alone remained on the +deserted hearth-stone. Lower down in the columns of the same paper, +however, was something that smote my soul. The Parthian dart was there, +and it quivered in its target! I saw that the wedding-party had sailed +for Europe on the same day of the nuptials, to be absent a year, and had +taken with them my dear one!</p> + +<p>So far away! Seas rolling between us! Foreign lands, foreign laws +intervening, which might, for all I knew, deprive me of her presence +forever, who was my hope, my life!</p> + +<p>"O little sister," I groaned, "was I right, after all, in forsaking you +for a season? Should I not have dared every thing, rather than have so +openly yielded my authority?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>In the mean while, the sanguinary preparations went silently on. In the +gray of a foggy February morning the duel was fought, and Captain +Wentworth fell, as it was at first thought, mortally wounded.</p> + +<p>At the request of his excellent physician, Dr. Durand, when the watchers +were exhausted, and vigilance was all-essential in his case, I accepted, +rather than proposed to take, the post of watcher for one night, in +company with his devoted friend and coadjutor Edward Vernon, and +discovered, in my anguish, and in my power over his distracted senses, +my so-far-hidden gift of magnetism.</p> + +<p>Insomnolency was destroying him; opiates had been tried in vain to +compose him, and now, under my waving fingers and strained will, he +slept the sweet, refreshing magnetic slumber. He lived, some were +pleased to say, and among others, his physician, through my agency—my +admirable nursing—for none save Vernon ever knew the secret of my sway. +We became engaged during his convalescence, simply, quietly, +unostentatiously.</p> + +<p>In due time we made our troth-plight known to the household of +Beauseincourt, all of whom, from its formal master to my best-beloved, +brightest, and ever-tantalizing pupil, Bertie, accorded me their +heart-felt congratulations. Gregory alone—the evil genius of the +place—cast his poisonous sneers and doubts above our happiness—a +structure too firmly based, too far removed from him, however, for his +arrows to reach or destroy. Circumstances seemed later to favor his +malicious designs, as shall be shown in the conclusion of this work; +but, together, and in the full flush of our happiness, we were +invincible.</p> + +<p>A sudden summons from the seat of government compelled Captain Wentworth +to leave Lesdernier a few hours after its reception—hours of which he +passed, through the necessity of speedy preparation, but one with me. So +far I had delayed the revelation of my true history and name, preferring +to postpone this to my majority and our marriage-day; but, after his +departure, I rued my resolution, and concluded to write to him a hasty +summary of my life and motives of action. This letter was, as a matter +of necessity, confided to the care of Luke Gregory (never a chosen +depositary of mine in any way), who followed him to Savannah to receive +some parting instructions for the conduct of their work, and who was to +return to Lesdernier after the interval of a week.</p> + +<p>In the ardor of my impulse, I could not slight an opportunity of so soon +receiving a reply to my somewhat startling and, I felt now, +too-long-delayed communication, and thus testing my lover's trust and +confidence in me. When Gregory returned to Beauseincourt, he assured me +he had delivered my letter punctually (I never doubted this, for he knew +the man he had to deal with), adding, carelessly, that it was well +Wentworth had said he would write soon, as he had been unfortunate +enough to lose the hastily-pencilled reply, with his own pocket-book, at +the Lenoir Landing, where both were food for fishes.</p> + +<p>My disappointment was extreme, and many weeks of constrained silence +passed before I received the promised letter from Captain Wentworth—so +gloomy, so incomprehensible, so portentous, that it filled me with +despair. In this letter he spoke of obstacles between us—in which blood +bore part—of the wreck of all earthly happiness for him—perchance for +me. Yet he conjured me to be calm and patient, as he could not be, and +alluded to my silence as conclusive of his misery. He referred +frequently to the letter he had intrusted to the care of Gregory as +explanatory of all that might otherwise seem inexplicable—that letter +at rest beneath the dark waters of the Bayou Noir—if—if, indeed! But +no! not even of Gregory could I harbor on slight grounds such +suspicions. "Let the devil himself have the full benefit of—doubt!" +says Rabelais. I wrote to Wentworth that I would come and make all +plain, as he desired, in June.</p> + +<p>Suffering severely myself, I saw clouds gathering and rising around a +happy household that for a time drew me from the depths of my own +affliction in the vain effort to solace their woes.</p> + +<p>Father and son and infant in one house, wife and imbecile daughter in +another, at last fell at one dread swoop. To dishonor was added the +crime of suicide, and poverty and breaking hearts were there, for the +heritage of Beauseincourt was, by reason of debt and mismanagement, to +pass, after the death of its master, into strange hands—the cruel hands +of creditors!</p> + +<p>Walter La Vigne was dead, and the succession of Bellevue passed over the +daughters of the house, to vest in a distant kinsman. He came, toward +the last of my stay, to take his own; and, unexpectedly, George Gaston, +the playmate of my childhood, the lover of my first youth, stood before +me in the residuary legatee of Armand La Vigne!</p> + +<p>His advent was a revelation of my secret, through the necessity of +surprise; and as, when the banquet is announced and the ball draws near +its close, the maskers, so far unknown to each other, lay by their +disguises, glad to be so relieved, draw breath and clasp hands once more +in the freedom of social reality, so I, who had played too long a weary +part, felt a new life infused into my veins when my mask was suddenly +laid aside, and the necessity of disguise was over.</p> + +<p>The time was so near at hand now, I felt, when I could claim my own from +Bainrothe, and cast off all shackles of guardianship and minority, that +I no longer feared the consequences of this revelation. In September we +should meet on new ground. I, no more a minor, would be beyond the reach +of his subtle mastery; and, until then—the time assigned for the +expiration of his year of trust—he would remain in Europe, with the +wide sea between us, and little probability of information through the +medium of public rumor.</p> + +<p>I would be secret, cautious, abide in the shadow, until the hour arrived +to emerge therefrom, and, with the aid of God and Wardour Wentworth, +defeat his schemes and vindicate the truth!</p> + +<p>Alas for human foresight! Alas for Fate!</p> + +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> + +<a name="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1">[1]</a><div class="note"><p> Pronounced popularly "<i>Less der-neer</i>."</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="SEA_AND_SHORE"></a><h2><i>SEA AND SHORE</i></h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"No fears hath she! Her giant form<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Majestically calm would go<br /></span> +<span>O'er wrathful surge, through blackening storm,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'Mid the deep darkness, white as snow!<br /></span> +<span>So stately her bearing, so proud her array,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The main she will traverse forever and aye!<br /></span> +<span>Many ports shall exult in the gleam of her mast—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hush! hush! thou vain dreamer, this hour is her last!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>WILSON, "<i>Isle of Palms</i>."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"Then hold her<br /></span> +<span>Strictly confined in sombre banishment,<br /></span> +<span>And doubt not but she will ere long, full gladly,<br /></span> +<span>Her freedom purchase at the price you name."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"No, subtle snake!<br /></span> +<span>It is the baseness of thy selfish mind,<br /></span> +<span>Full of all guile, and cunning, and deceit,<br /></span> +<span>That severs us so far, and shall do <i>ever</i>."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"Despair shall give me strength—where is the door?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Mine eyes are dark! I cannot find it now.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O God! protect me in this awful pass!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>JOANNA BAILLIE, <i>Tragedy of "Orra."</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>PART III.</h2> + +<h2><i>SEA AND SHORE</i>.</h2> + + +<a name="III_CHAPTER_I"></a><h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was a calm and hazy morning of Southern summer that on which I turned +my face seaward from the "keep" of Beauseincourt, never, I knew, to see +its time-stained walls again, save through the mirage of memory. There +is an awe almost as solemn to me in a consciousness like this as that +which attends the death-bed parting, and my straining eye takes in its +last look of a familiar scene as it might do the ever-to-be-averted face +of friendship.</p> + +<p>The refrain of Poe's even then celebrated poem was ringing through my +brain on that sultry August day, I remember, like a tolling bell, as I +looked my last on the gloomy abode of the La Vignes; but I only said +aloud, in answer to the sympathizing glances of one who sat before +me—the gentle and quiet Marion—who had suddenly determined to +accompany me to Savannah, nerved with unwonted impulse:</p> + +<p>"Madame de Staël was right when she said that 'nevermore' was the +saddest and most expressive word in the English tongue" (so harsh to her +ears, usually). "I think she called it the sweetest, too, in sound; but +to me it is simply the most sorrowful, a knell of doom, and it fills my +soul to-day to overflowing, for 'never, never more' shall I look on +Beauseincourt!"</p> + +<p>"You cannot tell, Miss Harz, what <i>time</i> may do; you may still return to +visit us in our retirement, you and Captain Wentworth," urged Marion, +gently, leaning forward, as she spoke, to take my hand in hers.</p> + +<p>"'Time the tomb-builder'" fell from my lips ere they were aware. "That +is a grand thought—one that I saw lately in a Western poem, the +New-Year's address of a young editor of Kentucky called Prentice. Is it +not splendid, Marion?"</p> + +<p>"Very awful, rather," she responded, with a faint shudder. "Time the +'comforter,' let us say, instead, Miss Miriam—Time the +'veil-spreader.'"</p> + +<p>"Why, Marion, you are quite poetic to-day, quite Greek! That is a sweet +and tender saying of yours, and I shall garner it. I stand reproved, my +child. All honor to Time, the <i>merciful</i>, whether he builds palaces or +tombs! but none the less do I reverence my young poet for that +stupendous utterance of his soul. I shall watch the flight of that +eaglet of the West with interest from this hour! May he aspire!"</p> + +<p>"Not if he is a Jackson Democrat?" broke in the usually gentle Alice +Durand, fired with a ready defiance of all heterodox policy, common, if +not peculiar, to that region.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but he is not; he is a good Whig instead—a Clay man, as we call +such."</p> + +<p>"Not a Calhoun man, though, I suppose, so I would not give a snap of my +fingers for him or his poetry! It is very natural, for you, Miss Harz," +in a somewhat deprecating tone, "to praise your partisans. I would not +have you neutral if I could, it is so contemptible."</p> + +<p>A little of the good doctor's spirit there, under all that exterior of +meekness and modesty, I saw at a glance, and liked her none the less for +it, if truth were told. And now we were nearing the gate, with its +gray-stone pillars, on one of which, that from which the marble ball had +rolled, to hide in the grass beneath, perchance, until the end of all, I +had seen the joyous figure of Walter La Vigne so lightly poised on the +occasion of my last exodus from Beauseincourt. A moment's pause, and the +difficult, disused bolts that had once exasperated the patience of +Colonel La Vigne were drawn asunder, and the clanking gates clashed +behind us as we emerged from the shadowed domain into the glare and dust +of the high-road.</p> + +<p>Here Major Favraud, accompanied by Duganne, awaited us, seated in state +in his lofty, stylish swung gig (with his tiny tiger behind), drawn +tandem-wise by his high-stepping and peerless blooded bays, Castor and +Pollux. Brothers, like the twins of Leda, they had been bred in the +blue-grass region of Kentucky and the vicinity of Ashland, and were +worthy of their ancient pedigree, their perfect training and classic +names, the last bestowed when he first became their owner, by Major +Favraud, who, with a touch of the whip or a turn of the hand, controlled +them to subjection, fiery coursers although they were!</p> + +<p>Dr. Durand, too, with his spacious and flame-lined gig, accompanied by +his son, a lad of sixteen, awaited our arrival, and served to swell the +cavalcade that wound slowly down the dusty road, with its sandy surface +and red-clay substratum. A few young gentlemen on horseback completed +our <i>cortége</i>.</p> + +<p>Major Favraud sat holding his ribbons gracefully in one gauntleted +hand, while he uncovered his head with the other, bowing suavely in his +knightly fashion, as he said:</p> + +<p>"Come drive with me, Miss Harz, for a while, and let the young folks +take it together."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Major Favraud; you must excuse me, indeed! I feel a little +languid this morning, and I should be poor company. Besides, I cannot +surrender my position as one of the young folks yet."</p> + +<p>"Nay, I have something to say to you—something very earnest. You shall +be at no trouble to entertain me; but you must not refuse a poor, sad +fellow a word of counsel and cheer. I shall think hard of you if you +decline to let me drive you a little way. Besides, the freshness of the +morning is all lost on you there. Now, set Marion a good example, and +she will, in turn, enliven me later."</p> + +<p>So adjured, I consented to drive to the Fifteen-mile House with Major +Favraud, and Duganne glided into the coach in my stead, to take my place +and play <i>vis-à-vis</i> to Sylphy, who, as usual, was selected as +traveling-companion on this occasion, "to take kear of de young ladies."</p> + +<p>"I am so glad I have you all to myself once more, Miss Harz! I feel now +that we are fast friends again. And I wanted to tell you, while I could +speak of her, how much my poor wife liked you. (The time will come when +I must not, <i>dare</i> not, you know.) But for circumstances, she would have +urged you to become our guest, or even in-dweller; but you know how it +all was! I need not feign any longer, nor apologize either."</p> + +<p>"It must have been that she saw how lovely and <i>spirituelle</i> I found +<i>her</i>," I said, "and could not bear to be outdone in consideration, nor +to owe a debt of social gratitude. She knew so little of me. But these +affinities are electric sometimes, I must believe."</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is more of that sort of thing on earth, perhaps, 'than is +dreamed of in our philosophy'—antagonism and attraction are always +going on among us unconsciously."</p> + +<p>"I am inclined to believe so from my own experience," I replied, +vaguely, thinking, Heaven knows, of any thing at the moment rather than +of him who sat beside me.</p> + +<p>"Your mind is on Wentworth, I perceive," he said, softly; after a short +pause, "now give up your dream for a little while and listen to this +sober reality—sober to-day, at least," he added, with a light laugh. +"By-the-way, talking of magnetism, do you know, Miss Harz, I think you +are the most universally magnetic woman I ever saw? All the men fall in +love with you, and the women don't hate you for it, either."</p> + +<p>"How perfectly the last assertion disproves the first!" I replied; "but +I retract, I will not, even for the sake of a syllogism, abuse my own +sex; women are never envious except when men make them so, by casting +down among them the golden apple of admiration."</p> + +<p>"I know one man, at least, who never foments discord in this way! +Wentworth, from the beginning, had eyes and ears for no one but +yourself, yet I never dreamed the drama would be enacted so speedily; I +own I was as much in the dark as anybody."</p> + +<p>I could not reply to this <i>badinage</i>, as in happier moments I might have +done, but said, digressively:</p> + +<p>"By-the-by, while I think of it, I must put down on my tablet the order +of Mr. Vernon. He wants 'Longfellow's Poems,' if for sale in Savannah. +He has been permeating his brain with the 'Psalms of Life,' that have +come out singly in the <i>Knickerbocker Magazine,</i> until he craves every +thing that pure and noble mind has thrown forth in the shape of a song."</p> + +<p>And I scribbled in my memorandum-book, for a moment, while Major Favraud +mused.</p> + +<p>"Longfellow!" he said, at last, "Phoebus, what a name!" adding +affectedly, "yet it seems to me, on reflection, I <i>have</i> heard it +before. He is a Yankee, of course! Now, do you earnestly believe a +native of New England, by descent a legitimate witch-burner, you know, +<i>can</i> be any thing better than a poll-parrot in the poetical line?"</p> + +<p>"Have we not proof to the contrary, Major Favraud?"</p> + +<p>"What proof? Metre and rhyme, I grant you—long and short—but show me +the afflatus! They make verse with a penknife, like their wooden +nutmegs. They are perfect Chinese for ingenuity and imitation, and the +resemblance to the real Simon-pure is very perfect—externally. But when +it comes to grating the nut for negus, we miss the aroma!"</p> + +<p>"Do you pretend that Bryant is not a poet in the grain, and that the +wondrous boy, Willis, was not also 'to the manner born?' Read +'Thanatopsis,' or are you acquainted with it already? I hardly think you +can be. Read those scriptural poems."</p> + +<p>"A very smooth school-exercise the first, no more. There is not a +heart-beat in the whole grind. As to Willis—he failed egregiously, when +he attempted to 'gild refined gold and paint the lily,' as he did in his +so-called 'Sacred Poems.' He can spin a yarn pretty well, and coin a new +word for a make-shift, amusingly, but save me from the foil-glitter of +his poetry." <a name="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2"><sup>[2]</sup></a></p> + +<p>"This is surprising! You upset all precedent. I really wish you had not +said these things. I now begin to see the truth of what my copy-book +told me long ago, that 'evil association corrupts good manners,' or I +will vary it and substitute 'opinions.' I must eschew your society, in a +literary way, I must indeed, Major Favraud."</p> + +<p>"Now comes along this strolling Longfellow minstrel," he continued, +ignoring or not hearing my remark, "with <i>his</i> dreary hurdy-gurdy to cap +the climax. Heavens! what a nasal twang the whole thing has to me. Not +an original or cheerful note! 'Old Hundred' is joyful in comparison!"</p> + +<p>"You shall not say that," I interrupted; "you shall not dare to say that +in my presence. It is sheer slander, that you have caught up from some +malignant British review, and, like all other serpents, you are venomous +in proportion to your blindness! I am vexed with you, that you will not +see with the clear, discerning eyes God gave you originally."</p> + +<p>"But I do see with them, and very discerningly, notwithstanding your +comparison. Now there is that 'Skeleton in Armor,' his last effusion, I +believe, that you are all making such a work over—fine-sounding thing +enough, I grant you, ingenious rhyme, and all that. But I know where the +framework came from! Old Drayton furnished that in his 'Battle of +Agincourt.'" Then in a clear, sonorous voice, he gave some specimens of +each, so as to point the resemblance, real or imaginary.</p> + +<p>"You are content with mere externs in finding your similitudes, Major +Favraud! In power of thought, beauty of expression, what comparison is +there? Drayton's verse is poor and vapid, even mean, beside +Longfellow's."</p> + +<p>"I grant you that. I have never for one moment disputed the ability of +those Yankees. Their manufacturing talents are above all praise, but +when it comes to the 'God-fire,' as an old German teacher of mine used +to say, our simple Southern poets leave them all behind—'Beat them all +hollow,' would be their own expression. You see, Miss Harz, that +Cavalier blood of ours, that inspired the old English bards, <i>will</i> +tell, in spite of circumstances."</p> + +<p>"But genius is of no rank—no blood—no clime! What court poet of his +day, Major Favraud, compared with Robert Burns for feeling, fire, and +pathos? Who ever sung such siren strains as Moore, a simple Irishman of +low degree? No Cavalier blood there, I fancy! What power, what beauty in +the poems of Walter Scott! Byron was a poet in spite of his condition, +not because of it. Hear Barry Cornwall—how he stirs the blood! What +trumpet like to Campbell! What mortal voice like to Shelley's? the +hybrid angel! What full orchestra surpassed Coleridge for harmony and +brilliancy of effect? Who paints panoramas like Southey? Who charms like +Wordsworth? Yet these were men of medium condition, all—I hate the +conceits of Cowley, Waller, Sir John Suckling, Carew, and the like. All +of your Cavalier type, I believe, a set of hollow pretenders mostly."</p> + +<p>"All this is overwhelming, I grant," bowing deferentially. "But I return +to my first idea, that Puritan blood was not exactly fit to engender +genius; and that in the rich, careless Southern nature there lurks a +vein of undeveloped song that shall yet exonerate America from the +charge of poverty of genius, brought by the haughty Briton! Yes, we will +sing yet a mightier strain than has ever been poured since the time of +Shakespeare! and in that good time coming weave a grander heroic poem +than any since the days of Homer! Then men's souls shall have been +tried in the furnace of affliction, and Greek meets not Greek, but +Yankee. For we Southerners <i>only bide our time</i>!"</p> + +<p>And he cut his spirited lead-horse, until it leaped forward suddenly, as +though to vent his excitement, and, setting his small white teeth +sternly, with an eye like a burning coal, looked forward into space, his +whole face contracting.</p> + +<p>"The Southern lyre has been but lightly swept so far, Miss Harz," he +continued, a moment later, "and only by the fingers of love; we need +Bellona to give tone to our orchestra."</p> + +<p>I could not forbear reciting somewhat derisively the old couplet—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'Sound the trumpet, beat the drum,<br /></span> +<span>Tremble France, we come, we come!'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Is that the style Major Favraud?" I asked. "I remember the time when I +thought these two lines the most soul-stirring in the language—they +seem very bombastic now, in my maturity."</p> + +<p>He smiled, and said: "The time is not come for our war-poem, and, as for +love, let me give you one strain of Pinckney's to begin with;" and, +without waiting for permission, he recited the beautiful "Pledge," with +which all readers are now familiar, little known then, however, beyond +the limits of the South, and entirely new to me, beginning with—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"I fill this cup to one made up<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of loveliness alone,<br /></span> +<span>A woman of her gentle sex<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The seeming paragon"—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>continuing to the end with eloquence and spirit.</p> + +<p>"Now, that is poetry, Miss Harz! the real afflatus is there; the bead on +the wine; the dew on the rose; the bloom on the grape! Nothing wanting +that constitutes the indefinable divine thing called genius! You +understand my idea, of course; explanations are superfluous."</p> + +<p>I assented mutely, scarce knowing why I did so.</p> + +<p>"Now, hear another." And the woods rang with his clear, sonorous accents +as he declaimed, a little too scanningly, perhaps—too much like an +enthusiastic boy:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Love lurks upon my lady's lip,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His bow is figured there;<br /></span> +<span>Within her eyes his arrows sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His fetters are—her hair!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I call that nothing but a bundle of conceits, Major Favraud, mostly of +the days of Charles II., of Rochester himself—" interrupting him as I +in turn was interrupted.</p> + +<p>"But hear further," and he proceeded to the end of that marvelous +ebullition of foam and fervor, such as celebrated the birth of Aphrodite +herself perchance in the old Greek time; and which, despite my perverse +intentions, stirred me as if I had quaffed a draught of pink champagne. +Is it not, indeed, all <i>couleur de rose?</i> Hear this bit of melody, my +reader, sitting in supreme judgment, and perhaps contempt, on your +throne apart:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'Upon her cheek the crimson ray<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By changes comes and goes,<br /></span> +<span>As rosy-hued Aurora's play<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Along the polar snows;<br /></span> +<span>Gay as the insect-bird that sips<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From scented flowers the dew—<br /></span> +<span>Pure as the snowy swan that dips<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Its wings in waters blue;<br /></span> +<span>Sweet thoughts are mirrored on her face,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Like clouds on the calm sea,<br /></span> +<span>And every motion is a grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Each word a melody!'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Yes, that is true poetry, I acknowledge, Major Favraud," I exclaimed, +not at all humbled by conviction, though a little annoyed at the pointed +manner in which he gave (looking in my face as he did so) these +concluding lines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Say from what fair and sunny shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Fair wanderer, dost thou rove,<br /></span> +<span>Lest what I only should adore<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I heedless think to love?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"The character of Pinckney's genius," I rejoined, "is, I think, +essentially like that of Praed, the last literary phase with me—for I +am geological in my poetry, and take it in strata. But I am more +generous to your Southern bard than you are to our glorious Longfellow! +I don't call that imitation, but coincidence, the oneness of genius! I +do not even insinuate plagiarism." My manner, cool and careless, +steadied his own.</p> + +<p>"You are right: our 'Shortfellow' <i>was</i> incapable of any thing of the +sort. Peace be to his ashes! With all his nerve and <i>vim</i>, he died of +melancholy, I believe. As good an end as any, however, and certainly +highly respectable. But you know what Wordsworth says in his +'School-master'—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'If there is one that may bemoan<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His kindred laid in earth,<br /></span> +<span>The household hearts that were his own,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It is the man of mirth.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He sighed as he concluded his quotation—sighed, and slackened the pace +of his flying steeds. "But give me something of Praed's in return," he +said, rallying suddenly; "is there not a pretty little thing called 'How +shall I woo her?'" glancing archly and somewhat impertinently at me, I +thought—or, perhaps, what would simply have amused me in another man +and mood shocked me in him, the recent widower—widowed, too, under such +peculiar and awful circumstances! I did not reflect sufficiently, +perhaps, on his ignorance of many of these last.</p> + +<p>How I deplored his levity, which nothing could overcome or restrain; and +yet beneath which I even then believed lay depths of anguish! How I +wished that influence of mine could prevail to induce him to divide his +dual nature, "To throw away the worser part of it, and live the purer +with the better half!" But I could only show disapprobation by the +gravity of my silence.</p> + +<p>"So you will not give me 'How shall I woo her?' Miss Harz?" a little +embarrassed, I perceived, by my manner. "I have a fancy for the title, +nevertheless, not having heard any more, and should be glad to hear the +whole poem. But you are prudish to-day, I fancy."</p> + +<p>"No, there is nothing in that poem, certainly, that angels might not +hear approvingly; but it would sadden you, Major Favraud."</p> + +<p>"I will take the chance of that," laughing. "Come, the poem, if you care +to please your driver, and reward his care. See how skillfully I avoided +that fallen branch—suppose I were to be spiteful, and upset you against +this stump?"</p> + +<p>Any thing was preferable to his levity; and, as I had warned him of the +possible effect of the poem he solicited, I could not be accused of want +of consideration in reciting it. Besides, he deserved the lesson, the +stern lesson that it taught.</p> + +<p>As this could in no way be understood by such of my readers as are +unacquainted with this little gem, I venture to give it here—exquisite, +passionate utterance that it is, though little known to fame, at least +at this, writing:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'How shall I woo her? I will stand<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Beside her when she sings,<br /></span> +<span>And watch her fine and fairy hand<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Flit o'er the quivering strings!<br /></span> +<span>But shall I tell her I have heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Though sweet her song may be,<br /></span> +<span>A voice where every whispered word<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Was more than song to me</i>?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'How shall I woo her? I will gaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In sad and silent trance,<br /></span> +<span>On those blue eyes whose liquid rays<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Look love in every glance.<br /></span> +<span>But shall I tell her eyes more bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Though bright her own may beam,<br /></span> +<span>Will fling a deeper spell to-night<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Upon me in my dream</i>?'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I hesitated. "Let me stop here, Major Favraud, I counsel you," I +interpolated, earnestly; but he only rejoined:</p> + +<p>"No, no! proceed, I entreat you! it is very beautiful—very touching, +too!" Speaking calmly, and slacking rein, so that the grating of the +wheels among the stems of the scarlet <i>lychnis</i>, that grew in immense +patches on our road, might not disturb his sense of hearing, which, +by-the-way, was exquisitely nice and fastidious.</p> + +<p>"As you please, then;" and I continued the recitation.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'How shall I woo her? I will try<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The charms of olden time,<br /></span> +<span>And swear by earth, and sea, and sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And rave in prose and rhyme—<br /></span> +<span>And I will tell her, when I bent<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My knee in other years,<br /></span> +<span>I was not half so <i>eloquent</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I could not speak—<i>for tears</i>!'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I watched him narrowly; the spell was working now; the poet's hand was +sweeping, with a gust of power, that harp of a thousand strings, the +wondrous human heart! And I again pursued, in suppressed tones of +heart-felt emotion, the pathetic strain that he had evoked with an idea +of its frivolity alone:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'How shall I woo her? I will bow<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Before the holy shrine,<br /></span> +<span>And pray the prayer, and vow the vow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And press her lips to mine—And<br /></span> +<span>I will tell her, when she starts<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From passion's thrilling kiss,<br /></span> +<span>That <i>memory</i> to many hearts<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Is dearer far than bliss!'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It was reserved for the concluding verse to unnerve him completely; a +verse which I rendered with all the pathos of which I was capable, with +a view to its final effect, I confess:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'Away! away! the chords are mute,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The bond is rent in twain;<br /></span> +<span>You <i>cannot</i> wake the silent lute,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or clasp its links again.<br /></span> +<span>Love's toil, I know, is little cost;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Love's perjury is light sin;<br /></span> +<span>But souls that lose what I have lost,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What have they left to win?'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"What, indeed?" he exclaimed, impetuously—tears now streaming over his +olive cheeks. He flung the reins to me with a quick, convulsive motion, +and covered his face with his hands. Groans burst from his murmuring +lips, and the great deeps of sorrow gave up their secrets. I was sorry +to have so stirred him to the depths by any act or words of mine, and +yet I enjoyed the certainty of his anguish.</p> + +<p>I checked the horses beneath a magnolia-tree, and sat quietly waiting +for the flood of emotion to subside as for him to take the initiative. I +had no word to say, no consolation to offer. Nay, after consideration, +rather did I glory in his grief, which redeemed his nature in my +estimation, though grieved in turn to have afflicted him. For, in spite +of all his faults, and my earlier prejudices, I loved this impulsive +Southron man, as Scott has it, "right brotherly."</p> + +<p>At last, looking up grave, tearless, and pale, and resuming his reins +without apology for having surrendered them, he said, abruptly:</p> + +<p>"All is so vain! Such mockery now to me! She was the sole reality of +this universe to my heart! I grapple with shadows unceasingly. There is +not on the face of this globe a more desolate wretch. You understand +this! You feel for me, you do not deride me! You know how perfect, how +spiritual she was! You loved her well—I saw it in your eyes, your +manner—and for that, if nothing else, you have my heart-felt gratitude. +So few appreciated her unearthly purity. Yet, was it not strange she +should have loved a man so gross, so steeped in sensuous, thoughtless +enjoyment—so remote from God as I am—have ever been? But the song +speaks for me"—waving his gauntleted hand—"better than I can speak:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'Away! away! the chords are mute,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">the bond is rent in twain.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I shall never marry again—never! Miss Miriam, I know now, and shall +know evermore, in all its fullness, and weariness, and bitterness, the +meaning of that terrible word—alone! Eternal solitude. The Robinson +Crusoe of society. A sort of social Daniel Boone. 'Thus you must ever +consider me. And yet, just think of it. Miss Harz!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you will not always feel so; there may come a time of +reaction." I hesitated. It was not my purpose to encourage change.</p> + +<p>"No, never! never!" he interrupted, passionately; "don't even suggest +it—don't! and check me sternly if ever I forget my grief again in +frivolity of any sort in your presence. You are a noble, sweet woman, +with breadth enough of character to make allowances for the shortcomings +of a poor, miserable man like me—trying to cheat himself back into +gayety and the interests of life. I have sisters, but they are not like +you. I wish to Heaven they were! There is not a woman in the world on +whom I have any claims—on whose shoulder I can lean my head and take a +hearty cry. And what are men at such a season? Mocking fiends, usually, +the best of them! I shall go abroad, Miss Harz. I am no anchorite. You +will hear of me as a gay man of the world, perhaps; but, as to being +happy, that can never be again! The bubble of life has burst, and my +existence falls flat to the earth. Victor Favraud, that airy nothing, is +scarcely a 'local habitation and a name' now!"</p> + +<p>"Let him make a name, then," I urged. "With military talents like yours, +Major Favraud, the road to distinction will soon be open to you. Our +approaching difficulties with France—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that will all be patched up, or has been, by this time. Van Buren +is a crafty but peace-loving fox! Something of an epicurean, too, in his +high estate. What grim old Jackson left half healed, he will complete +the cure of. Ah, Miss Harz, I had hoped to flesh my sword in a nobler +cause!"</p> + +<p>I knew what he meant. That dream of nullification was still uppermost +in his soul—dispersed, as it was, in the eyes of all reasonable men. I +shook my head. "Thank God! all that is over," I said, gravely, +fervently; "and my prayer to Him is that he may vouchsafe to preserve us +for evermore an unbroken people!"</p> + +<p>"May He help Israel when the time comes," he murmured low, "for come it +will, Miss Harz, as surely as there is a sun in the heavens! 'and may I +be there to see!' as John Gilpin said, or some one of him—which was +it?"</p> + +<p>And, whipping up his lagging steeds as we gained the open road, we +emerged swiftly from the shadows of the forest—between nodding +cornfields, already helmed and plumed for the harvest, and plantations +green with thrifty cotton-plants, with their half-formed bolls, +promising such bounteous yield, and meadows covered with the tufted +Bermuda grass, with its golden-green verdure, we sped our way toward +Lenoir's Landing.</p> + +<p>This peninsula was formed by the junction of two rivers, between which +intervened a narrow point of land, with a background of steep hills, +covered with a growth of black-jack and yellow-pine to the summit. Here +was a ferry with its Charon-like boat, of the primitive sort—flat +barge, poled over by negroes, and capable of containing at one time many +bales of cotton, a stagecoach or wagon with four horses, besides +passengers <i>ad libitum.</i></p> + +<p>This ferry constituted the chief source of revenue of Madame Grambeau, +an old French lady, remarkable in many ways. She kept the stage-house +hard by, with its neat picketed inclosure, its overhanging live-oak +trees and small trim parterre, gay at this season with various annual +flowers, scarce worth the cultivation, one would think, in that land of +gorgeous perennial bloom. But Queen Margarets, ragged robins, variegated +balsams, and tawny marigolds, have their associations, doubtless, to +make them dear and valuable to the foreign heart, to which they seem +essential, wherever a plot of ground be in possession.</p> + +<p>Mignonette, I have observed, is a special passion with the French exile, +recalling, doubtless, the narrow boxes, fitted to the stone window-sill +of certain former lofty lodgings across the sea, perhaps, situated in +the heart of some great city, and overlooking roofs and court-yards—the +street being quite out of the question in such a view, distant, as it +seems, from them, as the sky itself, though in an opposite direction.</p> + +<p>I have used the word "exile" advisedly with regard to Madame Grambeau, +and not figuratively at all. She was, I had been told, a <i>bourgeoise</i>, +of good class, who had taken part in the early revolution, but who, when +the <i>canaille</i> triumphed and drenched the land in blood, in the second +phase of that fearful outburst of volcanic feeling, had fled before the +whirlwind with her child and husband to embark for America. At the point +of embarcation—like Evangeline—the husband and wife had been separated +accidentally, and on her arrival in a strange land she found herself +alone and penniless with her son, scarce six years old. Her husband had +been carried to a Southern port, she learned by the merest chance, and, +disguising herself in man's attire, and leading her little son by the +hand, she set forth in quest of him, carrying with her a violin, which, +together with the clothes she wore, had been found in the trunk of +Monsieur Grambeau, brought on the vessel in which she came, but which +depository she had been obliged to abandon, when setting forth on her +pilgrimage.</p> + +<p>She was no unskillful performer on this instrument, and solely by such +aid she gained her food and lodging to the interior of Georgia. Reaching +her destination after a long and painful journey and delays of many +kinds, she found her husband living in a log-hut, on the border of +Talupa River, a hut which he had built himself, and earning his bread by +ferrying travellers across that stream.</p> + +<p>Yet here, with the characteristic contentment of her people under all +circumstances, she settled down quietly to aid him and make his home +happy; bore him many children (most of whom were dead at the time I saw +her, as those living were separated from her at that period), reared and +educated them herself, toiled for and with them, late and early, +strained every nerve in the arduous cause of duty, and found herself, in +extreme old age, widowed and alone, having amassed but little of the +world's lucre, yet cheerful and energetic even if dependent still on her +own exertions.</p> + +<p>All this and much more I had heard before I saw Madame Grambeau or her +abode—a picturesque affair in itself, however humble—consisting +originally of a log-house, to which more recently white frame wings had +been attached, projecting a few feet in front of the primitive building, +and connected thereto by a shed-roofed gallery, which embraced the whole +front of the log-cottage, along which ran puncheon-steps the entire +length of the grand original tree-trunk, as of the porch itself. It was +a triumph of rural art.</p> + +<p>Over this portico, so low in front as barely to admit the passage of a +tall man beneath its eaves, without stooping, a wild multiflora rose, +then in full flower, was artistically trained so as to present a series +of arches to the eye as the wayfarer approached the dwelling; no +tapestry was ever half so lovely.</p> + +<p>The path which led from the little white gate, with its swinging chain +and ball, was covered with river-pebbles and shells, and bordered by +box, trimly clipped and kept low, and the two broad steps, that led to +the porch, bore evidence of recent scouring, though rough and unpainted.</p> + +<p>Framed in one of those pointed natural cathedral-windows of vivid green, +gemmed with red roses, of which the division-posts of the porch formed +the white outlines, stood the most remarkable-looking aged woman I have +ever seen. At a first glance, indeed, the question of sex would have +arisen, and been found difficult to decide. Her attire seemed that of a +friar, even to the small scalloped cape that scantily covered her +shoulders, and the coarse black serge, of which her strait gown was +composed, leaving exposed her neatly though coarsely clad feet, with +their snow-white home-knit stockings, and low-quartered, well-polished +calf-skin shoes, confined with steel buckles, and elevated on heels, +then worn by men alone.</p> + +<p>She wore a white habit shirt, the collar, bosom, and wristbands of which +were visible; but no cap covered her silver hair, which was cropped in +the neck, and divided at one side in true manly fashion. It was brushed +well back from her expansive, fair, and unwrinkled forehead, beneath +which large blue eyes looked out with that strange solemnity we see +alone in the orbs of young, thoughtful children, or the very old.</p> + +<p>Scott's description of the "Monk of Melrose Abbey" occurred to me, as I +gazed on this calm and striking figure:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"And strangely on the knight looked he,<br /></span> +<span>And his blue eyes gleamed wild and wide."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>She stood watching our approach, leaning with both hands on her ebony, +silver-headed cane, above which she stooped slightly, her aged and +somewhat severe, but serene face fully turned toward us, in the clear +light of morning, with a grave majesty of aspect.</p> + +<p>Above her head in its wicker cage swung the gray and crimson parrot, of +which Sylphy had spoken, and to which, it may be remembered, she had so +irreverently likened her master on one occasion; bursting forth, as it +saw us coming, into a shrill, stereotyped phrase of welcome—"<i>Bien +venu, compatriote</i>," that was irresistibly ludicrous and irrelevant.</p> + +<p>"Tremble, France! we come—we come," said Major Favraud; "there's your +quotation well applied this time, Miss Harz! It is impressive, after +all."</p> + +<p>"Hush! she will hear you," I remonstrated, quite awed in that still, +majestic presence, for now we stood before our aged hostess, who, with a +cold but stately politeness after Major Favraud's salutation and +introduction, waved us in and across her threshold. As for Major +Favraud, he had turned to leave us on the door-sill, to see to the +comfort and safety of his horses; not liking, perhaps, the appearance of +the superannuated ostler, who lounged near the stable of the inn, if +such might be called this rustic retreat without sign, lodging, or +bar-rooms.</p> + +<p>"Are we in the mansion of a decayed queen, or the log-hut of a wayside +innkeeper?" I questioned low of Marion.</p> + +<p>"Both in one, it seems to me," was the reply. "But Madame Grambeau is no +curiosity, no novelty to me, I have stopped here so frequently. I ought +to have told you, before we came, not to be surprised."</p> + +<p>Pausing at the door of a large, square room, from which voices +proceeded, she invited us with a singularly graceful though formal +courtesy to enter, smiling and pointing forward silently as she did so, +and then, like Major Favraud, she turned and abandoned us at the +door-sill, on which we stood riveted for a moment by the sound of a +vibrant and eager voice speaking some never-to-be-forgotten words.</p> + +<p>"For the slave is the coral-insect of the South," said the voice within; +"insignificant in himself, he rears a giant structure—which will yet +cause the wreck of the ship of state, should its keel grate too closely +on that adamantine wall. '<i>L'état c'est moi</i>,' said Louis XIV., and that +'slavery is the South' is as true an utterance. Our staple—our +patriarchal institution—our prosperity—are one and indissoluble, and +the sooner the issue comes the better for the nation!"</p> + +<p>Standing with his hand on the back of a chair near the casement-window +of the large, low apartment, in close conversation with two other +gentlemen, was the speaker of these remarkable words, which embraced the +whole genius and policy of the South as it then existed, and which were +delivered in those clear and perfectly modulated tones that bespeak the +practised orator and the man of dominant energies.</p> + +<p>I felt instinctively that I stood in the presence of one of the anointed +princes of the earth—felt it, and was thrilled.</p> + +<p>"Do you know that gentleman, Marion?" I whispered, as we seated +ourselves on the old-fashioned settle, or rather sofa, in one corner of +the room, gazing admiringly, as I spoke, on the tall, slight figure, +with its air of power and poise, that stood at some distance, with +averted face.</p> + +<p>"No, I have no idea who it is, or who are his companions either," she +replied; "unless"—hesitating with scrutiny in her eyes—</p> + +<p>"His companions, I do not care to question of them!—but that man +himself—the speaker—has a sovereign presence! Can it be possible—"</p> + +<p>The entrance of Major Favraud interrupted further conjecture, for at the +sound of those emphatic boots the stranger turned, and for one moment +the splendor of his large dark eyes, in their iron framing, met my own, +then passed recognizingly on to rest on the face of Major Favraud, and +advancing with extended hands, made more cordial by his voice and smile, +he greeted him familiarly as "Victor."</p> + +<p>Major Favraud stood for a moment spell-bound—then suddenly rushing +forward, flung his hat to the floor, caught the hand of the stranger +between his own and pressed it to his heart. (To his lips, I think, he +would fain have lifted it, falling on one knee, perchance, at the same +time, in a knightly fashion of hero-worship that modern reticence +forbids.) But he contented himself with exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Calhoun! best of friends, welcome back to Georgia!" And tears +started to his eyes and choked his utterance. Thus was my conjecture +confirmed. I never felt so thrilled, so elated, by any presence.</p> + +<p>There was a momentary pause after this fervent greeting, emotional on +one part only.</p> + +<p>"But why did you not meet me at Milledgeville?" asked Mr. Calhoun. "Most +of my friends in this vicinity sustained me there. I have been +discussing the great question<a name="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3"><sup>[3]</sup></a> again, Favraud, and I should have been +glad of your countenance."</p> + +<p>"I have been detained at home of late by a cruel necessity," was the +faltering reply, "or I should never have played recreant to my old +master."</p> + +<p>"Good fortune spoiled me a fine lawyer in your case, Victor! But +introduce me to your wife. Remember, I have never had the pleasure of +meeting Madame Favraud," advancing, as he spoke, toward me, with his +hand on Major Favraud's shoulder (above whom he towered by a head), +courteously and impulsively.</p> + +<p>"Miss Harz, Miss La Vigne, Miss Durand—Mr. Calhoun," said Major +Favraud, pale as death now, and trembling as he spoke. "These ladies are +friends of mine—one, a distant relative"—he hesitated—"within the +last six weeks I have had the misfortune to lose my wife, Mr. Calhoun. +You understand matters better now."</p> + +<p>All conversation was cut short by this sudden announcement. Deeply +shocked, Mr. Calhoun led Major Favraud aside, with a brief apology to me +for his misapprehension, and they stood together, talking low, at the +extreme end of the apartment, affording me thus an admirable opportunity +for observing the <i>personnel</i> of the great Southern leader, during the +brief space of time accorded by the change of stage-horses. For, with +his friends, he was then <i>en route</i> for another appointment. He was +canvassing the State, with a view to a final rally of its resources, +preparatory to his last great effort—to scotch the serpent of the +North, which finally, however, wound its insidious folds around the +heart of brotherly affection, stifling it, as the snakes of fable were +sent to do the baby Hercules.</p> + +<p>No picture of Mr. Calhoun has ever done him justice<a name="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4"><sup>[4]</sup></a>, although his +was a physiognomy that an artist could scarcely fail to make an extern +likeness of, from its remarkable characteristics. It was truly an +iron-bound face, condensed, powerful in every nerve, muscle, and +lineament, and fraught, beyond almost all others, with intellect and +resolution. But the glory and power of that glance and smile no painter +could convey—those attributes of man which more fully than aught else +betray the immortal soul!</p> + +<p>Just as I beheld him that day, bending above Major Favraud in his +tender, half-paternal dignity and solicitude combined, soothing and +condoling with him (I could not doubt, from the expression of his +speaking countenance), I see him still in mental vision; nor can I +wonder more at the depth and strength of enthusiasm he awakened in the +hearts of his friends.</p> + +<p>It belongs not to every great man to excite this devotion, yet, where it +blends with greatness, it is irresistible. Mohammed, Cyrus, Alexander, +Darius, Pericles, Napoleon, were thus magnetically gifted. I recall few +instances of others so distinguished in station who possessed this +power, which has its root, perhaps, after all, in the great +master-passion of mortality, the yearning for exalted sympathy, so +seldom accorded.</p> + +<p>This observation of mine was but a glimpse at best, for the winding of +the stage-horn was the signal for Mr. Calhoun's departure, and I never +saw him more. But that glimpse alone opened to my eyes a mighty volume!</p> + +<p>A few days before I should have rejected as wearisome the details to +which I listened with eagerness now, and which I even sought to elicit +as to Mr. Calhoun—his mode of life, his mountain-home, and his passion +for those heights he inhabited, and which, no doubt, contributed to +train his character to energy and strengthen his <i>physique</i> to endure +its brain-burden. I heard with pleasure the account of one who had +passed much of his youth beneath his roof, and who, however +enthusiastic, was, in the very framing of his nature, strictly truthful +with regard to the mutual devotion of the master and slaves, the +invariable courtesy and sweetness of his deportment to his own family, +his justice and regard for the feelings of his lowest dependant, his +simplicity, his cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>"A grave and even gloomy man in public life, he is all life and interest +in the social circle," said Major Favraud. "His range of thought is the +grandest and most unlimited, his powers of conversation are the rarest I +have ever met with. Yet he never refused, on any occasion, to answer +with minuteness the inquiries of the smallest child or most +insignificant dependant. 'Had he not been Alexander, he must have been +Parmenio.' Had fortune not struck out for him the path of a statesman, +he would have made the most impressive and perfect of teachers. As it +was, without the slightest approach to pedagogism, he involuntarily +instructed all who came near him, without effort or weariness on either +side."</p> + +<p>"Does he love music—poetry?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; Scottish songs and classic verse, especially, are his +delights. He has no affectation. His tastes are all his own—his +opinions all genuine. He is, indeed, a man of very varied attainment, as +well as great grasp of intellect. Yet, as you see, he likes his +opposites sometimes. Miss Harz," and he laid his hand proudly on his +own manly breast.</p> + +<p>Talking thus in that large, low, scantily-furnished parlor, with its +split-bottomed chairs, in primitive frames (and in somewhat strange +contrast to its well-polished mahogany tables, dark with time, and walls +adorned with good engravings), with its floor freshly scoured and +sanded, while a simple deal stand in the centre bore a vase filled with +the rarest and most exquisite wild-flowers I had ever seen (from the +gorgeous amaryllis and hibiscus of these regions, down to wax-like +blossoms of fragile delicacy and beauty, whose very names I knew not), +and its many small diamond-paned casement-windows, all neatly curtained +with coarse white muslin bordered with blue, time passed unconsciously +until the noonday meal was announced.</p> + +<p>We followed the Mercury of the establishment, a grave-looking little +yellow boy, who seemed to have grown prematurely old, from his constant +companionship, probably, with his preceptor and mistress, into a long, +low apartment in the rear of the dwelling, where a table was spread for +our party, with a damask cloth and napkins, decorated china and +cut-glass, that proved Madame Grambeau's personal superintendence; and +which elicited from Major Favraud, as he entered, a long, low whistle of +approval and surprise, and the exclamation "Heh! madame! you are +overwhelming us to-day with your magnificence."</p> + +<p>I was amused with the response. "Sit down, Victor Favraud, and eat your +dinner Christian-like, without remarks! You have never got over the +spoiling you received when you lay wounded under this roof. I shall +indulge you no longer." Shaking her long forefinger at him. "Your +familiarity needs to be checked." Her manner of grave and kindly irony +removed all impression of rebuke from this speech, which Major Favraud +received very coolly, spoiled child that he really was, rubbing his +hands as he took the foot of the table. At the sight of the <i>bouilli</i> +before him, from which a savory steam ascended to his epicurean +nostrils, he said, notwithstanding: "Soup and <i>bouilli</i> too! Ah, madame, +I see why you absented yourself so cruelly this morning. You have been +engaged in good works!"</p> + +<p>"Only the sauces, Favraud!—<i>seulement les sauces</i>" "The sauces—it's +just that!—Tide is a mere charlatan in comparison," turning to me. +"Miss Harz, you never tasted any thing before like madame's soup and +sauces. I wish she would take me in partnership for a while, if only to +teach me the recipes that will otherwise die with her. What a restaurant +we two could keep together!"</p> + +<p>"You are too unsteady, Favraud, for my <i>maître d'hôtel.</i> Your mind is +too much engrossed by the bubbles of politics, you would spoil all my +materials, and realize the old proverb that 'the devil sends cooks.' But +go to work like a good fellow, and carve the dish before you; by that +time the soup will be removed. I have a fine fish, however, in reserve +(let me announce this at once), for my end of the table."</p> + +<p>"Here are croquets too, as I live," said Duganne, lifting a cover before +him and peeping in, then returning it quietly to its place. "Are you a +fairy, madame?"</p> + +<p>"Much more like a witch," she said, with gayety. "You young men, at +least, think every old, toothless gray-haired crone like me ready for +the stake, you know."</p> + +<p>"Not when they make such steaks," said Dr. Durand, attacking the dish, +with its savory surroundings, before him.</p> + +<p>"Ah! you make calembourgs, my good doctor.—What do you call them, +Favraud? It is one of the few English words I do not know—or forget. I +believe, to make them, however, is a medical peculiarity."</p> + +<p>"Puns, madame, puns, not pills. Don't forget it now. It is time you were +beginning to master our language. You know you are almost grown up!" and +Favraud looked at her saucily.</p> + +<p>"A language which madame speaks more perfectly than any foreigner I have +ever known," I remarked. She bowed in answer, well pleased.</p> + +<p>In truth, the accent of Madame Grambeau was barely detectable, and her +phraseology was that of a well-translated book—correct, but not +idiomatic, and bearing about it the idiosyncrasy of the language from +which it was derived. She was evidently a person of culture and native +power of intellect combined, and her finely-moulded face, as well as +every gesture and tone, indicated superiority and character.</p> + +<p>In that lonely wild, and beneath that lowly roof, there abode a spirit +able and worthy to lead the <i>coteries</i> of the great, and to preside over +the councils of statesmen, and (to rise in climax) the drawing-room of +the <i>grande monde.</i> But it was her whim rather than her necessity to +tarry where she could alone be strictly independent, a <i>sine qua non</i> of +her being.</p> + +<p>The son she had led by the hand from New York to Georgia, and who, +standing by her side, distinctly remembered to have seen the head of the +Princess Lamballe borne on a pole through the streets of Paris, was now +a prominent member of the Legislature, and, through his rich wife, the +incumbent of a great plantation.</p> + +<p>But the teachings of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, that philosophic sign-post, +still influenced his mother, in her refusal to live under his splendid +roof, and partake of his bounty, however liberally offered.</p> + +<p>"I have a home of my own," she said, "a few faithful servants, brains, +and energy still, besides a small account with General Curzon, in his +bank at Savannah, wherewith to meet emergencies; while these things +last, I will owe to no man or woman for bread or shelter. And, when +these depart, may the grave cover my bones, and the good God receive my +soul!"</p> + +<p>Books alone she accepted as gifts from her son, and of these, in a +little three-cornered library, she had a goodly store in the two +languages which she read with equal facility, if not delight.</p> + +<p>She showed us this nook before we left, and I saw, lying face downward, +as she had recently left it, the volume she was then perusing at +intervals—one of Madame Sand's novels, "Les Mauprats," I remember, a +singular and powerful romance, then recently issued, whose root I have +always thought might be found in Walter Scott's "Rob Roy," and more +particularly in the Osbaldistone family commemorated in that work.</p> + +<p>On suggesting this to Madame Grambeau, she too saw the resemblance I +spoke of, and she agreed, with me, that the coincidence of genius +furnished many such parallels, where no charge of plagiarism could be +attached to either side.</p> + +<p>A few bottles of "wild-berry wine," as Elizabeth Barrett called such +fluids, were added to the dinner toward its close, and Marion begged +permission to have her basket of cakes and fruits brought in for +dessert, which else had been wanting to our repast; to which request +Madame Grambeau graciously acceded.</p> + +<p>"I make no confections," she said, "but I have lived on the juices of +good meats, well prepared, with such vegetables as the Lord lets grow in +this poor region, many years, and behold I am old and still able to do +his service!"</p> + +<p>"And a little good wine, too, occasionally—eh, madame?" added Major +Favraud, impertinently.</p> + +<p>"When attainable, Favraud. You drank good wine yourself, when you were +here, and I partook with you moderately. But I buy none such. I drown +not, Clarence-like, even in butts of malmsey, my hard-earned gold; and I +own I am not fond of the juices of the muscadine of your hills;" and she +tapped her snuffbox.</p> + +<p>"You are going to hear her talk now," whispered Favraud; "that is a +sign—equal to General Finistere's—the snuffbox tapping, I mean. The +oracle is beginning to arouse! Come! let me stir her further!" and he +inclined his head before her.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what, madame, you must take a little cognac to keep off +the chills of age. I have some of the best, and will send you down a +demijohn, if you say the word; and in return you shall pray for me. I am +a great sinner, Miss Harz thinks."</p> + +<p>"Miss Harz is correct; and we will both promise you our prayers. She, +too, is Catholic, I hope. No? I regret so, for her own sake; but your +brandy I reject, Victor; remember that, and offend me not by sending it. +You must not forget the fate of your malvoisie."</p> + +<p>"Ah, madame, that was cruel! but I have forgiven you long since. I +think, however, that the grape-vines bore better that year than ever +before—thus watered, or wined, I mean.—Just think of it, Miss Harz! To +pour good wine round the roots of a Fontainebleau grape, rather than +replenish the springs of life with it! Was there ever waste like that +since Cleopatra dissolved her pearl in vinegar?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Harz will agree with me that a principle that could not resist the +gift of a dozen bottles of choice wine was little worth. Of such stuff +was made not the fathers of your Revolution. But stay, there is an +explanation due to me, yet unrendered," she pursued. "I am a puzzled +<i>bourgeoise</i>, I confess," she said, shaking her head. "Come, Favraud, +explain. Who is this young lady?"</p> + +<p>"A <i>bourgeoise</i> also," I replied for him, anxious to turn the tide of +conversation into another channel for some reasons. "I had thought you +an expatriated marquise, at least, madame!" I continued. "As for me, I +am simply a governess."</p> + +<p>"It is my glory, mademoiselle, to have been of that class to which +belonged Madame Roland herself, and which represented that <i>juste +milieu</i> which maintained the balance of society in France. When the +dregs of the <i>bas peuple</i> rose to the surface of the revolution, +commenced by the sound middle classes, we regarded the scum of +aristocracy as the smaller of the two evils. As soon as the true element +had ceased to assert itself in France, I fled forever from a land of +bloodshed and misrule, and took shelter under the broad wing of your +boasted American eagle."</p> + +<p>"Which still continues to flap over you shelteringly, madame," I +rejoined, somewhat flippantly, I fear, "and will to the end, no doubt; +for, in its very organization, our country can never be subjected to the +fluctuations of other lands—revolt and revolution."</p> + +<p>"I am not so certain of this," she observed, shaking her white head +slowly as she spoke, and, lifting a pinch of snuff from her +tortoise-shell box (the companion of her whole married life, as she +acquainted us), she inhaled it with an air of meditative +self-complacency, then offered it quietly to the gentlemen, who were +still sitting over their wine and peaches; passing by Marion, Alice +Durand, and myself, completely, in this ovation.</p> + +<p>"Good snuff is not to be sneezed at," said Major Favraud. "None offered +to young ladies, it seems," taking a huge pinch, and thrusting it +bravely up his nostrils, as one takes a spoonful of unpleasant medicine. +Then contradicting his own assertion immediately afterward, he succeeded +in expelling most of it in a series of violent sternutatory spasms, +which left him breathless, red-faced, and watery-eyed, with a +handkerchief much begrimed.</p> + +<p>But Madame Grambeau seemed not to have noticed this ridiculous +proceeding, which, of course, created momentary mirth at the expense of +the penitent Favraud, to whom Dr. Durand repeated the tantalizing +saying, that "it is a royal privilege to take snuff gracefully"—giving +the example as he spoke, in a mock-heroic manner, quite as absurd and +irrelevant as Favraud's own.</p> + +<p>Lost in deep thought, and gently tapping her snuffbox as she mused—the +tripod of her inspiration, as it seemed—Madame Grambeau sat silently, +with what memories of the past and what insight into the future none can +know save those like herself grown hoary with wisdom and experience.</p> + +<p>At last she spoke, addressing her remarks to me, as though the careless +words I had hazarded had just been spoken, and the attention of her +hearers undiverted by divers absurdities—among others the affected +gambols of Duganne—anxious to place himself in an agreeable aspect +before both of his <i>inamoratas</i>, past and present.</p> + +<p>"I do not agree with you, mademoiselle. I am one of those who think +that in the very framing of this Constitution of ours the dragon's teeth +were sown, whose harvest is not yet produced. Mr. Calhoun, with his +prophetic eye, foresees that this crop of armed men is inevitable from +such germs, as does Mr. Clay, were he only frank, which he is not, +because he deludes himself—the most incurable and inexcusable of all +deceptions."</p> + +<p>And she applied herself again assiduously to her snuffbox, tapping it +peremptorily before opening it, and, with a gloomy eye fixed on space, +she continued:</p> + +<p>"In all lands, from the time of Cassandra and Jeremiah up, there have +been prophets. Prophets for good and prophets for ill—of which some few +have been God-appointed, and the sayings of such alone have been +preserved. The rest vanish away into oblivion like chaff before the +wind—never mind what their achievement, what their boast.</p> + +<p>"In this nation we have only two true prophets, Calhoun and Clay—both +men of equal might, and resolution, and intellect—gifted as beseems +their vocation, masterful and heroic; and to these all other men are +subordinate in the great designs of Providence."</p> + +<p>"Where do you leave Mr. Webster, John Quincy Adams, General Jackson +himself, in such a category, madame?" I asked, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"They are doing, or have done, the work God has appointed for them to +do, I suppose, mademoiselle; but they are accessories merely of the +times, and will pass away with the necessities of the moment."</p> + +<p>"'The earth has bubbles as the water hath, and these are of them,'" said +Major Favraud aside, between his short, set teeth, nodding to me as he +spoke, and lending the next moment implicit attention to what Madame +Grambeau was saying; for the brief pause she had made for another pinch +of snuff was ended, and she continued impetuously, as if no interval had +occurred:</p> + +<p>"Clay is, unconsciously, I trust, for the honor of mankind, fulfilling +his destiny—this great prophet who still refuses to prophesy. He is +entering the wedge for what he declines to admit the possibility of—yet +there must be moments when that eye of power pierces the clouds of +prejudice and party, wherewith it seeks to blind its kingly vision, and +descries the horrors beyond as the result of the acts he is now +committing; and when such moments of clear conviction come to him, the +ambitious tool of a party, I envy not his sensations," and she shook her +head mournfully. "Not Napoleon at St. Helena, not Prometheus on his +rock, were more to be pitied than he! the man whose ambition shall never +know fruition, whose measures shall pass and leave no trace in less than +fifty years after he has ceased to exist—the splendid failure of our +century!"</p> + +<p>She ceased for a moment, with her eye fixed on space, her hands clasped, +her whole face and manner uplifted, as if, indeed, on her likewise the +prophet's mantle had dropped from a chariot of fire.</p> + +<p>"As to Calhoun—he is God-fearing," she continued, fervently. "In the +solitudes of a spiritual Mount Sinai, he has received the tablets of the +Lord, and bends every energy to their fulfillment. He, too, +foresees—not with an eye like Clay's, clear only at intervals—and +clouded by vanity, ambition, and sophistry, at other seasons—he, too, +foresees the coming of our doom! His clear vision embraces anarchy, +dissension, civil war, with all its attendant horrors, as the +consequence of man's injustice; and, like Moses, he beholds the promised +land into which he can never enter! Would that it were given to him to +appoint his Joshua, or even to see him face to face, recognizingly! But +this is not God's will. He lurks among the shadows yet—this Joshua of +the South, but God shall yet search him out and bring him visibly before +the people! Not while I live," she added, solemnly, "but within the +natural lives of all others who sit this day around my table!"</p> + +<p>"She is equal to Madame Le Normand!" said Major Favraud, aside, nodding +approvingly at me.</p> + +<p>"If one waits long enough, most prophecies may be fulfilled," I +ventured; "but, madame, your words point to results too terrible—too +unnatural, it seems to me, ever to be realized in these enlightened +times or in this land of moderation."</p> + +<p>"Child," she responded, "blood asserts itself to the end of races. There +are two separate civilizations in this land, destined some day to come +in fearful conflict; and the wars of Scylla, of the Jews themselves, +shall be outdone in the horror and persistence of that strife of +partners—I will not say brothers—for there is no brotherhood of blood +between South and North, of which Clay and Calhoun stand forth to my +mind as distinct types. No union of the red and white roses possible."</p> + +<p>"But you forget, madame, that Mr. Clay is a Western man, a Virginian, a +Kentuckian, and the representative of slave-holders," I remonstrated. +"His interests are coincident with those of the South. His hope of the +presidency itself vests in his constituents, and the wand would be +broken in his hand were he to lend himself to partiality of any kind. +Mr. Clay is a great patriot, I believe, Jacksonite though I am—he knows +no South nor North, nor East nor West, but the Union alone, solid and +undivided."</p> + +<p>"All this is true," she answered, "in one sense. It is thus he speaks, +and, like all partial parents, even thinks he feels toward his +offspring; but observe his acts narrowly from first to last. He has a +manufacturer's heart, with all his genius. He loves machinery—the sound +of the mill, the anvil, the spinning-jenny, the sight of the ship upon +the high-seas, or steamboat on the river, the roar of commerce, far more +than the work of the husbandman. We are an agricultural people, we of +the South and West—and especially we Southerners, with our poverty of +invention, our one staple, our otherwise helpless habits, incident to +the institution which, however it may be our curse, is still our wealth, +and to which, for the present time, we are bound, Ixion-like, by every +law of necessity. What does this tariff promise? Where will the profit +rest? Where will the loss fall crushingly? The slow torture of which we +read in histories of early times was like to this. Each day a weight was +added to that already lying on the breast of a strong man, bound on his +back by the cords of his oppressors, until relief and destruction came +together, and the man was crushed; such was the <i>peine forte et dure</i>."</p> + +<p>"Calhoun is patriarchal,<a name="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5"><sup>[5]</sup></a> and is now placing all his individual +strength to the task of heaving off this incubus from the breast of our +body politic, but with small avail, for he has no lever to assist +him—no fulcrum whereon to rest it; otherwise he might say with +Archimedes, 'With these I could move a world.' He is unaided, this +eagled-eyed prophet of ours, looking sorrowfully, sagaciously down into +the ages! South Carolina is the Joseph, that his cruel brothers, the +remaining Southern States, have sold to the Egyptians, as a bond-slave. +But they shall yet come to drink of his cup, and eat of his bread of +opinion, in the famine of their Canaan. Nullification shall leave a +fitting successor, as Philip of Macedon left Alexander to carry out his +plans. The abolitionist and the slave-holder are as distinct as were +Charles I. and Cromwell, or Catharine de Medicis and Henry of Navarre. +The germ that Calhoun has planted shall lie long in the earth, perhaps, +but when it breaks the surface, it shall grow in one night to maturity, +like that in your so famous 'Mother Goose' story of 'Jack and his +Bean-stalk,' forming a ladder wherewith to scale the abode of giants and +slay them in their drunken sleep of security. But he who does this deed, +this Joshua of the Lord's, this fierce successor of our gentle Moses, +shall wade through his oceans of blood to gain the stone. God +knoweth—He only—how all this shall end, whether in success or +overthrow. It is so far wrapped in mystery."</p> + +<p>As if she saw from some spiritual height the reign of terror she +predicted, she dropped her head upon her hands and closed her eyes, and +I felt my blood creep slowly through my veins as I followed her in +thought across the waste of woe and desolation. For there was something +in her manner, her voice (august and solemn with age and wisdom as these +were), that impressed all who heard, with or in spite of their own +consent, and for a time profound silence succeeded this harangue.</p> + +<p>Dr. Durand was the first to recover himself. "I trust, my dear madame," +he remarked, "that the substantial horrors realized in your youth still +cast their dark shadows over the coming years, and so deceive you into +prophecies that it is sad to hear from lips so reverent, and which, let +us all pray, may never be realized. You yourself will say amen to that, +I am convinced."</p> + +<p>"Amen!" she murmured.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Durand! don't play at hypocrite in your old age, after having +been a true man all your life," broke in Major Favraud. "What is a +conservative, after all, but a social parrot, who repeats 'wise saws and +modern instances,' until he believes himself possessed of the wisdom of +all the ages, and is incapable of conceiving of the existence even of an +original idea?"</p> + +<p>"By-the-by," digressed Duganne, weary of discussion, "hear that old +fellow outside, how he is going on, Favraud, <i>à propos</i> of poll parrots, +you know, as if all else, but the name of the bird, had been lost on his +ear. Just listen!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, hear him, and be edified," was the sarcastic response of Favraud +to Duganne, who took no other notice, even if he understood the point, +than to lead the way to the portico, where swung the cage of the jolly +bird in question; and, headed by Madame Grambeau leaning on her cane, we +followed simultaneously, with the exception of Major Favraud, who +continued at the table with his cigar and cognac-flask, in sullen and +solitary state.</p> + +<p>"Nutmegs and nullification!" shrieked the parrot, as we stood before +him. "Ha, ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>"That is condensing the matter, certainly," I observed.</p> + +<p>"<i>Bienvenu, compatriote!</i>" he repeated many times, laughing loudly, the +next moment, as if in mockery.</p> + +<p>"What a fiend it is!" said Marion, timidly; "only look at its black +tongue, Miss Harz! Then what a laugh!"</p> + +<p>"Danton! Danton! have you nothing to say to this strange lady?" said +Madame Grambeau, addressing her bird by name; "you must not neglect my +friends, Danton Pardi!"</p> + +<p>"Bird of freedom, moulting—moulting!" was the whimsical rejoinder. +"Jackson! give us your paw, Old Hick—Hick—Hickory!"</p> + +<p>"This is the stuff Major Favraud taught him," she apologized, "when he +used to lie on his porch day after day, after his hostile meeting with +Juarez, which took place on that hill," signifying the site of the duel +with her slender cane. "It was there they fought their duel, <i>à +l'outrance</i>, and I knew it not until too late! His wife was too ill to +come to him at that time, and the task of nursing him devolved on me, +since when, on maternal principles, the lad has grown into my +affections."</p> + +<p>"The lad of forty-odd!" sneered Duganne, unnoticed, apparently, by the +aged lady, however, at the moment, but not without amusing other hearers +by this sally. Dr. Durand was especially delighted.</p> + +<p>"For he is a boy at heart," she said later, "this same Victor Favraud of +ours," gazing reprovingly around. "Indeed, he is the only American I +have ever seen who possessed real <i>gaieté de coeur</i>, and for that, I +imagine, he must thank his French extraction."</p> + +<p>"Calhoun and cotton!" "Coal and codfish!" shouted the parrot at the top +of his voice. "Catfish and coffee!"—"Rice cakes for breakfast"—"All in +my eye, Betty Martin"—"Yarns and Yankees"—"Shad and shin-plasters"—"Yams +and yaller boys," and so on, in a string of the most irrelevant alliteration +and folly, that, like much other nonsense, evoked peals of laughter, by its +unexpected utterance, and which at last mollified and brought out Major +Favraud himself, from his dignified retirement.</p> + +<p>"You have ruined the morals of my bird," said Madame Grambeau, +reproachfully. "Approach, Favraud, and justify yourself. In former times +his discourse was discreet. He knew many wise proverbs and polite +salutations in French and English both, most of which he has discarded +in favor of your profane and foolish teachings. He is as bad as the +'Vert-vert' of Voltaire. I shall have to expel him soon, I fear."</p> + +<p>"Danton, how can you so grieve your mistress?" remonstrated Major +Favraud, lifting at the same time an admonitory finger, at which +recognized signal, a part of past instructions probably, the parrot +burst forth at once in a series of the most grotesque and <i>outré</i> oaths +ear ever heard, ending (by the aid of some prompting from his teacher) +by dismally croaking the fragment of a popular song thus travestied:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"My ole mistis dead and gone,<br /></span> +<span>She lef to me her ole jawbone.<br /></span> +<span>Says she, 'Charge up in dem yaller pines,<br /></span> +<span>And slay dem Yankee Philistines!'"—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>ending with the invariable <i>"Bon jour</i>," or "<i>Bienvenu, compatriote"</i> +and demoniac "Ha! ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>"The memory of the creature is perfectly wonderful," I said. "Many +parrots have I seen, but never one like this before. It must have sprung +out of the Arabian Nights."</p> + +<p>"I can teach any thing to every thing," digressed Major Favraud, "and +without severity; it is my specialty. I was meant for a trainer of +beasts, probably. I will get up an entertainment, I believe, in +opposition to the industrious fleas, called the 'Desperate Doves,' and +teach pigeons to muster, drill, and go through all the military motions. +I could do it easily, and so repair my broken fortunes. I have one +already at home that feigns death at the word of command. I have amused +myself for hours at a time with this bird.—Don't say a word, Miss +Harz," speaking low, "I see what you think of it all, but I have had to +cheat misery some way or other. It was a wretched device and waste of +existence, though. And when I see that great, distinguished man, who had +such hopes of me as a boy, I feel that I could creep into an auger-hole +for sheer shame of my extinguished promise."</p> + +<p>"Not extinguished!" I murmured, "only under a cloud, still destined to +be fulfilled."</p> + +<p>"Only in the grave," he said, sadly, "with the promise common to all +mankind;" and thus by gloomy glimpses I caught the truth.</p> + +<p>We staid that night at the house of an aunt of Madame La Vigne's, who +received us cordially, entertained us sumptuously, and dismissed us +graciously.</p> + +<p>The next morning at sunrise we again set out for Savannah, into which +city we entered before the noonday heat, finding cool shelter and warm +welcome at once under the roof of General Curzon, the South's most +polished gentleman and finished man of letters, of whom it may be truly +said that, "Take him for all in all, we ne'er shall look upon his like +again."</p> + +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> + +<a name="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2">[2]</a><div class="note"><p> It need not for one moment be supposed that the opinions of +the author are represented through the extremist Favraud. To her Mr. +Bryant stands forth as the high-priest of American poetry.</p></div> + +<a name="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3">[3]</a><div class="note"><p> The tariff.</p></div> + +<a name="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4">[4]</a><div class="note"><p> Since writing the above, the admirable picture of Mr. +Healey has filled this void; and those who have seen good copies of this +work, executed for and by the order of Louis Philippe, may have a clear +idea of that glorious countenance, the like of which we shall not see +again. +</p><p> +Perhaps it was from this very personal magnetism of which I have spoken +that Healey succeeded better with the portrait of Mr. Calhoun than any +of the others he was sent to this country to paint.</p></div> + +<a name="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5">[5]</a><div class="note"><p> It was about this time that Mr. Calhoun made his famous +anti-tariff crusade throughout the land, it may be remembered by some of +my readers.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_II"></a><h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Before leaving the hospitable roof of General Curzon—beneath which I +tarried for several days—awaiting the tardy sailing of the +packet-steamer Kosciusko, bound for New York, circumstances determined +me to leave in the hands of my host a desk which I had intended to carry +with me, and which contained most of my treasures. First among these, +indisputably, in intrinsic value were my diamonds—"sole remnant of a +past magnificence;" but the miniatures of my father and mother, and +Mabel, in the cases of which locks of twisted hair—brown, and black, +and golden, and gray—were contained and combined (dear, imperishable +memorials of vitality in most instances when all the rest was dust and +ashes), and the early letters of my parents, together with the +carefully-kept diary I had written at Beauseincourt, ranked beyond these +even in my estimation.</p> + +<p>The cause of this deposit of valuables was simply owing to the unstable +lock of my trunk, the condition of which was detected too late to have +it repaired before sailing. Madame Curzon had suggested to me the unsafe +nature of such custody for objects of price, if, indeed, I possessed +such at all. I told her then of my diamonds, and it was agreed between +us that these, at least, had better be deposited in the bank of her +husband, who would bring them to me himself a few months later—and on +reflection I concluded to add my desk, pictures, and papers, to my more +substantial treasures. These, at least, I felt assured no accident +should throw into the hands of Bainrothe.</p> + +<p>On my way to the ship I left the carriage for a moment, in pursuance +with this idea, and, followed by King, the bearer of my large and +weighty desk, entered the banking-house of my host, and was shown at +once, by attentive clerks, to his peculiar sanctum. I told him my errand +in a few words.</p> + +<p>"Keep it until called for, unless you hear from me in the interval," I +had said in allusion to my deposit, for he acknowledged the chances were +slight of his leaving home until the following year, notwithstanding +Madame Curzon's convictions.</p> + +<p>"Called for by whom?" he asked, calmly.</p> + +<p>"By Miriam Monfort in person or her order," I replied, laughingly, "This +is a mystery that, by-and-by, shall be explained to you."</p> + +<p>"I understand something of that already," he rejoined. "Marion has been +whispering to the reeds, you know, or Madame Curzon, the same thing +nearly; but let us be earnest, as your time is short, and mine precious +to-day. Life is uncertain, and, young and strong as you are, or seem to +be, you cannot foresee one hour even of the future, or of your own +existence. Suppose Miriam Monfort neither comes in person nor sends her +order for its restoration—what, then, is to become of this +treasure-chest of hers?"</p> + +<p>"You shall keep it then," I replied, unhesitatingly, "until my little +sister reaches her majority, and cause it to be placed in her own hands, +none other—or, stay, let her have it on the day before her marriage, +should this occur earlier than the time mentioned, or when she reaches +her eighteenth year in any case; but, above all things, be careful."</p> + +<p>"So many conflicting directions confuse and mystify me, I confess. Come, +let me write down your wishes, and the matter can be arranged formally, +which is always best in any case. There, I think I have the gist of your +idea," he said a few moments later, as he pushed over to me a slip of +paper to read and sign, which done, I shook hands with him cordially, +preparing to go. "But your receipt—you have forgotten to take it up!"</p> + +<p>"O General Curzon! the whole proceeding seems so ominous," I said, +turning back at the door to receive the proffered scrap, which, in +another moment, dropped from my nerveless fingers, while these, clasped +over my streaming eyes, forgot their office.</p> + +<p>"My dear young lady," he remonstrated, "I am shocked. What can have +occurred to impress you thus? Not this mere routine of affairs, +surely?—Duncan, a glass of water here for Miss Monfort."</p> + +<p>"I do not know, I am sure, why I should be so weak for such a trifle," I +said, after a few swallows of ice-water had somewhat restored my +equilibrium; "but I do feel very dismally about this voyage—have done +so ever since I left Beauseincourt. This is the last straw on the +camel's back, believe me, General Curzon. You must not reproach yourself +in the least—nor me; and now let me bid you farewell once more, perhaps +eternally!"</p> + +<p>These words of mine were remembered later in a very different spirit +from that in which they were then received (one of incredulous +compassion)—remembered as are ever the last utterances of the doomed, +whether innocent or guilty, in solemn awe and reverential tenderness, +not unmingled with a superstitious faith in presentiment.</p> + +<p>"Why, you look bluer than your very obvious veil, bluer than your +invisible school-marmish stockings, bluer than the skies, or a blue bag, +or Madame de Staël's 'Corinne,' or Byron's 'dark-blue ocean,'" said +Major Favraud, as he assisted me again into the carriage, where Dr. +Durand and Marion awaited me, for, as I have said, we were now on our +way to the vessel which was to bear me and my destinies forever from +that lovely Southern land in which I had seen and suffered so much.</p> + +<p>Dr. Durand looked serious at the sight of my woful aspect, and Marion +mutely proffered her <i>vinaigrette</i>, gratefully accepted, as was the good +doctor's compassionate silence; but, as usual, Favraud, after having +once gotten fairly under weigh, ran on. "What is the use of bewailing +the inevitable?" he pursued. "We have all seen your <i>penchant</i> for +Curzon, and his for you, for three days past; but Octavia is as tough as +<i>lignum-vitae,</i> I regret to assure you, my dear Miss Harz, and your +chance is <i>as blue</i> as your spirits, or the flames of snap-dragon, or +Marion's eyes. You will have to just put up with the captain, I fear, +for even the doctor there is in harness for life. Southern women, you +know, proverbially survive their husbands; and, as the suttee is out of +fashion, they sometimes have to marry Yankees as a <i>dernier ressort</i> of +desperation! Of course, there are occasional sad exceptions"—looking +grave for a moment, and glancing at the black hat-band on the Panama hat +he was nursing on his knees, so as to let the breeze blow through his +silky, silver-streaked black hair—"but—but—in short, why will you all +look so doleful? Isn't it bad enough to feel so?"</p> + +<p>"The loveliest fade earliest, we all know," and the tears were in his +honest, frivolous eyes, dashed away in the next moment as he exclaimed, +eagerly, "Why, there goes the Lamarque equipage, as I live! I had +forgotten all about it. The pleasantest woman in Savannah, young or old, +is to be your <i>compagnon de voyage</i>, Miss Harz, and the most determined +widower on record her escort; a perfect John Rogers of a man, with nine +little motherless children, her brother Raguet ('Rag,' as we called him +at school, on account of his prim stiffness, so that 'limber as a rag' +seemed a most preposterous saying in his vicinity). He is handsome, +however, and intelligent, a perfect gentleman, but on the mourners' +bench just now, like some others you know of"—heaving a deep sigh. "His +wife, poor thing, died last autumn—a pretty girl in her day was +Cornelia Huger! I was a little weak in that direction once +myself—before—that is, before—O doctor! what a trouble it is to +remember!"</p> + +<p>And again the small, fleet hand was dashed across the twinkling, tearful +eyes of this April day of a middle-aged man of the world—this modern +Mercutio—merry and mournful at once, as if there were two sides to his +every mood, like the famous shield of story. When we reached the quay +the Kosciusko was already getting up her steam, and, in less than an +hour afterward, the friends I loved were gone like dreams, the bustle of +departure was over, and, with lifted canvas and a puffing engine, we +were grandly steaming past the noble forts (poor Bertie's broach and +buckle, be it remembered) on our path of pride and power toward the +broad Atlantic.</p> + +<p>The weather was oppressively hot, and, for the first thirty-six hours, +scarcely a breath of wind lifted us on our way, so that the engine, +wholly incompetent to the work of both sails and machinery, bore us very +slowly on our northward ocean-flight. Indeed, the failure of this +engine to do its duty, at first, had sorely disheartened both captain +and crew as we found later, for upon its execution and energies, in the +beginning, had rested our entire dependence.</p> + +<p>On the evening of the second day's voyage, a sudden and violent +thunder-storm occurred, not unusual in those latitudes; during the +raging of which our mainmast was struck by lightning, and wholly +disabled.</p> + +<p>The fire was extinguished in the only possible manner, by cutting it +away from the decks, letting it gently down upon them, deluging it, so +that our mast lay charred and blackened after its bath of sea-water, +like a mighty serpent stretched along the ship, from stem to stern, and +wrapped loosely in its shrouds. It did us good service later, though not +by defying the winds of heaven, nor spreading forth its snowy sails to +catch the tropic breezes.</p> + +<p>Before many hours, it was destined to ride the waves in a shape that was +certainly never intended by those who chose it among many others—taper +and stately in its group of firs—to be the chief adornment of a gallant +ship, and lift a pointing finger to the stars themselves, as an index of +its might, and, with this exception, the hope of those it served—that +of a charred and blackened life raft.</p> + +<p>The renewed freshness of the atmosphere, and the joyful upspringing of +the breezes, alone remained, at midnight, to tell the story of the +recent hurricane.</p> + +<p>These tropic breezes came like benevolent fairies, to aid our groaning +Titan in his labors.</p> + +<p>I can never rid myself for one moment of the idea that an engine really +works, with weary, reluctant strength like a genii slave, waiting +vengefully for the time of retaliation, which sooner or later is sure to +come; or of the visionary notion that a graceful, gliding ship, with +all sails set, receives the same pleasure from its own motion and beauty +that a snow-white swan must do "as down she bears before the gale," with +her white plumage and stately crest.</p> + +<p>I think, if ever I am called to give a toast, it shall be "Sail-ships; +may their shadows never be less!" They are, indeed, a part of the +romance of ocean.</p> + +<p>The moon was full, in the balmy summer night that succeeded the tempest, +and the ship's quarter-deck was crowded with the passengers of the +Kosciusko, enjoying to the utmost, as it seemed, the delicious, +newly-washed atmosphere, the moonlit heavens and sea, the +exquisitely-caressing softness of the tardily-awakened breezes that +filled the white sails of the vessel, and fluttered the silken scarf of +the maiden, with the same wooing breath of persuasive, subtle strength.</p> + +<p>Around Miss Lamarque, the lady of whom Major Favraud had spoken so +admiringly, and to whose kindness he had committed me, a group had +gathered, chiefly of the young, not to be surpassed in any land for +manly bearing, graceful feminine beauty, gayety, wit, and refinement.</p> + +<p>There was Helen Oscanyan, fair as a dream of Greece, in her serene, +marble perfectness of form and feature; and the lovely Mollie Cairns, +her cousin, small, dark, and sparkling—both under the care of that +stately gentleman, their uncle, Julius Severe, of Savannah; and there +were the sisters Percy, twins in age and appearance, with voices like +brook-ripples, and eyes like wood-violets, and feet of Chinese +minuteness and French perfection—the darlings and only joys of a mother +still beautiful, though sad in her widowhood, and gentle as the dove +that mourns its mate.</p> + +<p>There was the brilliant Ralph Maxwell, whose jests, stinging and +slight, just glanced over the surface of society without inflicting a +wound, even as the skater's heel glides over ice, leaving its mark as it +goes, yet breaking no crust of frost; and there was the poetic dreamer +Dartmore, with his large, dark eyes, and moonlight face, and manner of +suffering serenity, on his way to put forth for fame, as he fondly +believed, his manuscript epic on the "Sorrows of the South."</p> + +<p>All these, and more, were there gathering about the leader of their +home-society, on that alien deck, as securely as though they were +sitting in her own drawing-room at "Berthold," on one of her brilliant +reception-evenings.</p> + +<p>How could they know—how could they dream the truth—or descry the +hidden skeleton at the festival, wreathed in flowers and veiled with +glittering, filmy draperies, which yet put forth its bony fingers to +beckon on and clutch them?</p> + +<p>I too was joyous and unconscious as the rest, and for the first time for +many days felt the burden literally heaved rather than lifted away that +had oppressed me.</p> + +<p>Was I not on my way to him in whose presence alone I lived my true life? +and what feeling of his morbid fancy was there that my hand could not +smooth away, when once entwined in his? Beauseincourt, and all its +shadows, had I not put behind me? The sunshine lay before, and in its +light and warmth I should still rejoice, as it was my birthright to do.</p> + +<p>I was "fey" that night, as the Scotch say, when an unaccountable +lightness of mood precedes a heavy sorrow, which it so often does, as +well as the more usual mood, the presage of gloom. I felt that I had the +power to put aside all ills—to grapple with my fate, and compel back +my lost happiness. Truly my bosom's lord sat lightly on her throne, as +of late it had not been her wont to do.</p> + +<p>Against my inclination had I been drawn into the current of that +youthful gayety, and now my bark floated without an effort on the +stream. I was in my own element again, and my powers were all +responsive.</p> + +<p>The small hours came—the happy group dispersed—not without many +interchanges of social compliment, much <i>badinage</i>, and merry plans for +the morrow. The monster Sea-sickness had been defied on the balmy +voyage, save in the brief interval of tempest, and his victors mocked +him, baffled as he was, with their purpose of amusement.</p> + +<p>"We shall get up the band to-morrow evening," said Major Ravenel, "and +have a dance; the gallop would go grandly here. See what reach of +quarter-deck we have! There are Germans on board who play in concert +violins and wind-instruments."</p> + +<p>"Suppose we dress as sea-nymphs," said Honoria Pyne; "enact a masque for +old Neptune's benefit? It would be so complimentary, you know; bring +down the house, no doubt. I have a sea-green tarlatan lying so +conveniently. Colonel Latrobe looks exactly like a Triton, with that +wondrous beard. A little alum sprinkled over its red-gold ground would +do wonders in the way of effect—would be gorgeous—wouldn't it, now, +Miss Harz?"</p> + +<p>"But all that could be done on shore as well, Miss Pyne," I replied, in +the way of reminiscence. "It is a pity to waste our opportunities of +observation now, in getting up costumes; and, for my part, I confess +that I have a wholesome dread of these sea-deities, and fear to +exasperate their finny feelings by reducing them to effigies. Thetis is +very spiteful, sometimes; and jealous, too, you remember."</p> + +<p>Miss Pyne did not remember, but did not mean to be baffled either, she +would let Miss Harz know, even if that lady <i>did</i> know more about +mythology than herself; and, if no one else would join her, meant to +play her <i>rôle</i>, of sea-nymph all alone, with Major Latrobe for her +Triton in waiting, tooting upon a conch-shell, and looking lovely! At +which compliment, open and above-board, poor Major Latrobe, who was over +head and ears in love with her, and a very ugly man, only bowed and +looked more silly than before, which seemed a work of supererogation.</p> + +<p>After the rest were gone, Miss Lamarque and I concluded to promenade on +the nearly-deserted deck, in the moonlight, and let the excitement of +the evening die away through the medium of more serious conversation. +She was a woman of forty-five, still graceful and fine-looking, but +bearing few traces of earlier beauty, probably better to behold, in her +overripe maturity, than in the unfolding of her less attractive time of +bud and blossom. Self had been laid aside now (which it never can be +until the effervescence of youth and hope are over). She had accepted +her position of old maid and universal benefactress; and sustained it +nobly, gracefully. She was thoroughly well-bred and agreeable, very +vivacious, astute, and intelligent, rather than intellectual, yet she +had the capacity (had her training been different) to have been both of +these.</p> + +<p>I remember how it chanced that, after a long promenade, during which we +had discussed men, manners, books, customs, costumes, and politics, even +(that once tabooed subject for women, now free, to all), with infinite +zest and responsiveness that charmed us mutually, so that we swore +allegiance on the strength of this one day's rencontre, like two +school-girls or knights of old—remember how the dropping of her comb at +his feet caused Miss Lamarque to pause, compelling me to follow her +example, by reason of our intertwined arms, in front of the man at the +wheel, as he stooped to raise it and hand it to her with a seaman's bow. +His ready politeness, unusual for one in his station, determined us to +cultivate his maritime acquaintance, and in a short time we had drawn +forth the outlines of his story, simple and bare as this was of +incident.</p> + +<p>His picturesque appearance had impressed us equally during the day, but +until now we had not met in concert about Christian Garth, for such we +soon found was the name of our polite pilot.</p> + +<p>He was a Jerseyman, he told us, of German descent, married to the girl +of his heart, and living on the coast of that adventurous little State, +famous alike for its peaches and wrecks.</p> + +<p>"Sall had a stocking full of money," he informed us, "silver, and +copper, and gold, when he married her, for her mother had been a famous +huckster—and never missed her post in the Philadelphia market for +thirty years, and this was her child's inheritance, and with this money +he had fixed up his old hut, till it looked 'e'en a'most inside like a +ship-captain's cabin.'"</p> + +<p>And now Sall wanted him to stay at home, he informed us, with her and +the children, but somehow or other he could never tarry long at the +hearth, for the sea pulled him like it was his mother, and the spell of +the tides was on him, and he must foller even if he went to his own +destruction, like them men that liquor lures to loss, or the love of +mermaids.</p> + +<p>"All land service is dead when likened to the sea," he said, shaking his +great water-dog head, and looking out lovingly upon his idol. "But ships +a'n't like they oncst was, ladies," he added, "before men put these here +heavy iron ingines to work in 'em—it's like cropping a bird's wing to +make a river-boat of a ship, and a dead, dead shame to shorten sails +till it looks like a young gal dressed in breeches or any other +onnatural thing—for a sailing-ship and a full-flowing petticoat always +rise up in a true man's mind together—God bless them both, I say."</p> + +<p>"To which we cordially say amen, of course," said Miss Lamarque, +laughing. "We should have been at a loss, however, Mr. Garth, but for +our engine during the dead calm preceding the storm, when our ship's +sails flapped so lazily about her masts, and she rocked like a baby's +cradle without making progress. It is well the engineer manoeuvred so +successfully while we lay fireless on the low rolling waves; but we are +speeding along merrily enough now, to make up for it all—I take comfort +in that—"</p> + +<p>"But not exactly in the right direction, though, to suit my stripe," he +said, turning his quid in his mouth as he looked out to leeward, +revealing, as he did so, a fine yet rugged profile relieved against the +silvery purple sheen of the moonlit sky.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that dark object lying beyond" (our eyes mechanically +followed his), "so still on the water?" and he indicated it with the +pipe he held in one sinewy hand—for the native courtesy of the man had +involuntarily proffered us the homage of removing it from his lips, when +we addressed him.</p> + +<p>"Yes—what is it? a wreck? a whale? a small volcanic island? Do +explain, Mr. Garth," said Miss Lamarque.</p> + +<p>"Nothing but an iceberg, and we are bearing down upon it rather too +rapidly, it seems to me."</p> + +<p>And so speaking, he turned his wheel in silence warily.</p> + +<p>"But you have the command of the helm, and have nothing to do but—"</p> + +<p>"Obey orders," he interrupted, grimly. "Ef the captain was to tell me to +run the ship to purgatory, I'd have to do it, you know."</p> + +<p>"But surely the captain would not jeopardize the lives of a ship's +company, even if he likes warm latitudes, by ordering you to run foul of +an iceberg; and, if he did, you certainly would not dare to obey him +with the fear of God before your eyes?" remonstrated Miss Lamarque, +indignantly. "For my part I shall go to him immediately and desire him +to change his course—but after all I don't believe that dingy black +thing is an iceberg at all—an old hencoop rather, thrown over from some +merchant-ship, or a vast lump of charred wood. You are only trying to +alarm us."</p> + +<p>"Ef you was to see it close enough, you would find it to shine equal to +the diamond on your hand; but I hope you never will, that's all—I hope +you never will, lady! I sot on a peak of that sort oncst myself for +three days in higher latitudes than this here—me and five others, all +that was spared from the wreck of the schooner Delta, and we felt our +convoy melting away beneath us, and courtesying e'en a'most even with +the sea, before the merchant-ship Osprey took us off, half starved, and +half frozen, and half roasted all at oncst! Them is onpleasant +rickollections, ladies, and it makes my blood creep to this day to see +an iceberg in konsikence; but a man must do his dooty, whatsomever do +betide. It was in the dead of night, and Hans Schuyler had the wheel, I +remember, when we went to pieces on that iceberg, all for disregarding +the captain's orders; you see, he meant to graze it like!"</p> + +<p>"Graze it!" almost shrieked Miss Lamarque. "Did he think he was driving +a curricle? Graze it—Heaven, what rashness!"</p> + +<p>"Don't—don't! Mr. Garth," I petitioned; "I shall never sleep a wink on +this ship if you continue your narrative."</p> + +<p>"Do—do! Mr. Garth," entreated Miss Lamarque, whose penetration showed +her by this time that the pilot was only playing on our fears, for want +of a better instrument for his skill. "I quite enjoy the idea that you +have actually been astride a fragment of the arctic glacier, and that we +may perhaps make the acquaintance of a white bear ourselves when we get +near our iceberg, or a gentle seal. Wouldn't you like one for a pet, +Miss Harz?"</p> + +<p>"It is very cold," I said, digressively. "I feel the chill of that +fragment of Greenland freeze my marrow. I must go fetch my shawl; but +first reassure us, Mr. Garth, if possible."</p> + +<p>He laughed. "I have paid you now for making fun of me to-day," he said, +saucily. "I saw your drawing of me in your books, and heerd the ladies +laughing. I peeped as I passed when Myers took the helm, and I wanted to +see what all the fun was about; then I said to myself, 'I will give her +a skeer for that if I have a chance'—but, all the same, the chill you +feel is a real one, for as sure as death that lump of darkness is an +iceberg. I have told you no yarn, as you will find out to-morrow when +you ask the captain. I'll steer you clear of the iceberg though, ladies, +never fear. Hans Schuyler has not got the wheel to-night—you see he was +three sheets in the wind anyhow, and the captain, says, 'Hans,' says he, +'don't tech another drop this night, or we'll never see another mornin' +till we are resurrected,' and so he turned into his hammock and swung +himself to sleep—a way he had, for he didn't keer for nothin' where his +comfort was concerned, having been raised up in the Injies."</p> + +<p>"Come, Miss Lamarque," I interrupted. "I must not hear another word. +'Macbeth doth murder, sleep,' and I shall be nervous for a month after, +this. So, good-night, Mr. Garth, and be sure you merit your first name +by taking good care of us while we imitate the example of your worthy +captain and 'swing ourselves to sleep,' or rather let the waves perform +that office for us. I shall make it my care to-morrow morning early, if +you still hold the helm, to show you my sketch, and convince you that it +was never made for fun at all, but that it is a real portrait of a very +fine-looking seaman, a real viking in appearance, and somewhat better +than one at heart, I trust. I shall hope to earn your good opinion +instead of ill-will, when you have only seen my sketch."</p> + +<p>"You have it already, you have it already, young gal—young miss, I +mean," he said, with a wave of the hand, which meant to be courteous, no +doubt, but seemed only defiant. "An' this much I kin say without injury +to Sall—that I'd rather hear you talk and see you smile, as I has been +watchin' of you constant do to-day, than go to the circus in New York, +or even to a Spanish bull-fight, or hear a Fourth-of-July oration, +or'tend camp-meetin'—and that's saying no little—an' no iceberg shall +come near you while Christian Garth lays a hand upon this helm. But +don't be skeered, ladies; no harm will come to the good ship Kosciusko."</p> + +<p>"I declare our pilot is quite chivalrous, as far as you are concerned, +for I marked his glance, Miss Harz," said Miss Lamarque, archly, as we +turned our faces cabin-ward, under the protection of our helmsman's +promised vigilance. "See what it is to be young and pretty, and remark +the truth of the old proverb, as exemplified in his case, that 'extremes +meet.' Victoria herself is not more independent of me or my +position—established facts as both are in the eyes of some—than is +Christian Garth. To him, this outsider of the world of fashion, I am +only a homely old woman; no prestige comes in to garnish the unvarnished +fact—a plain old maid, my dear—with not even the remembrance of beauty +as a consolation, nor its remnant as a sign of past triumphs, 'only this +and nothing more,' as that wonderful man Poe makes his raven say. We +never find our level until we go among people who know and care nothing +about us, who have never 'heard of us'—that exordium of most greetings +from folks of our own class. It is absolutely refreshing to be so +unaffectedly despised and slighted—it does one a world of good, there +is no doubt of that, especially when one's grandfather was a +Revolutionary notability, and other antecedents of a piece—but men are +all alike at heart, only the worldly ones wear flimsy masks, you know, +and pretend to adore intellect and ugliness, when beauty is the only +thing they care for—all a sham, my dear, in any case."</p> + +<p>"Yes, all alike," I repeated, making, as I spoke, one mental entire +reservation. "All <i>vain</i> alike, I mean; flatter their vanity ever so +little and they are at your very feet, asking 'for more,' like Oliver +Twist; more bread for <i>amour propre</i>, the insatiable! It was that sketch +of mine that wrought the spell, though unintentionally, of course, and +the sly fellow knew very well that it was no caricature—that is, if he +peeped, as he pretends—but a tolerably correct likeness that might have +satisfied Sall herself. By-the-by, I have a great mind to bestow it upon +him as a 'sop for Cerberus,' should her jealousy ever be aroused by your +reports of his devotion to me, or admiration rather, most unequivocally +avowed, it must be acknowledged. I really had no intention of injuring +Sally, and, if you think it best, will make the <i>amende honorable</i> by +being as cross as possible to him to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"No, no, carry out your first intention and conciliate him; for, +remember, he has us in the hollow of his hand. Bestow the picture, by +all means, and just as many smiles and compliments as he can stand, or +you can afford to squander; for you are worse than a mermaid, Miss Harz, +for fascination, all the gentlemen say so; and, as to Captain +Falconer—"</p> + +<p>"They are malignants," I rejoined, ignoring purposely the last clause of +the sentence which I had interrupted; "and you are perfidious to hear +them slander me so. I hate fascinating people; they always make my flesh +crawl like serpents. The few I have known have been so very base." "Good +specimens of '<i>thorough</i> bass,'" she interpolated, laughing.—"I am sure +I am glad I have no attributes of fascination, if a strange old work I +met with at Beauseincourt may be considered responsible. Did you ever +see it, Miss Lamarque, you who see every thing? Hieronymus Frascatorius +tells of certain families in Crete who fascinated by praising, and to +avert this evil influence some charm was used consisting of a magic +word (I suppose this was typical of humility, though related as +literal). This <i>naïveté</i> on the part of the old chronicler was simply +<i>impayable</i>, as Major Favraud would say, with his characteristic shrug. +One <i>Varius</i> related (you see my theme has full possession of me, and +the book is, a collation of facts on the subject of fascination of all +kinds, even down to that of the serpent) that a friend of his saw a +fascinator with a look break in two a precious gem in the hands of a +lapidary—typical this, I suppose, of some fond, foolish, female heart. +Fire, according to this author, represents the quality of fascination; +and toads and moths are subject to its influence, as well as some higher +animals—deer, for instance, who are hunted successfully with torches; +and he relates, further, that in Abyssinia artificers of pottery and +iron are thus fearfully endowed, and are consequently forbidden to join +in the sacred rites of religion, as fire is their chief agent. Isn't +this a strange, quaint volume, to set before a king? and how do you like +my lecture delivered <i>extempore?</i>".</p> + +<p>"Oh, vastly! but I did not know that was your style before. Don't +cultivate it, dear, if you hope to win manly hearts. Men like to do all +the lecturing themselves, and I find it diplomatic to feign profound +ignorance on all subjects, outside of a bandbox; it delights them so to +enlighten us. No wonder they fancy us fools when we feign foolishness so +admirably—lapwings that we are!"</p> + +<p>"But I never do, in such society. My experience is different from yours. +I always pretend to know twice as much as I do, when they are about; it +bluffs them off, and they are credulous sometimes as well as ignorant, +notwithstanding their boasted acumen."</p> + +<p>"Your lamp of experience needs trimming, my pretty Miriam," she said, +shaking her head, "if you really believe this. They never forgive +superiority, assumed or real; none but the noble ones, I mean; who, of +course, are in the minority. Give a pair of tongs pantaloons, and it +asserts itself. Trousers, my dear, are at the root of manly presumption. +I discovered that long ago. A man in petticoats would be as humble as a +woman. This is my theory, at least; take it for what it is worth. And +now to sleep, with what heart we may, an iceberg being in our vicinity;" +and, taking my face in her hand, she kissed me cordially. "It is very +early in our acquaintance for such manifestations to be allowable," she +said, kindly, "but I am a sort of spoiled child of society, and dare to +be natural. I consider that the best privilege that attaches to my +condition, that of the 'bell-wether' of Savannah <i>ton</i>—the +universally-accepted bore! You know—Favraud has told you, of course; he +always characterizes as he goes."</p> + +<p>"He has called you the most agreeable woman in Savannah, I remember, +young or old, and was truly glad, on my account, to know that you were +on board. Of your brother he spoke very kindly also, even admiringly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I know; but of Raguet there is little question now. His wife's +death has crushed him. I never saw so changed a man; he is half idiotic, +I believe; and I am with him now just to keep those children from +completing the work of destruction. Six little motherless ones—only +think—and as bad as they can possibly be; for poor Lucilla was no +manager. Isn't it strange, the influence those little cottony women get +over their husbands? You and I might try forever to establish such +absolute despotism, all in vain. It is your whimpering sort that rule +with the waving of a pocket-handkerchief; but poor, dear little woman, +she is powerless now; and I suppose the next will be like unto her. +Raguet would never look at any thing feminine that hadn't white eyes and +pink hair (yellow, I mean, of course)—his style, you know, being dark +and stern, he likes the downy, waxy kind. All this is shockingly +egotistical; but the question is, who that has a spark of individuality +is otherwise? Good-night, again, and may all sweet dreams attend you; +for my part, I never dream, being past the dreaming age, and realities +fortunately disappear with daylight; even cross children are wheedled +into quietness, and servants forget to fidget and giggle; and, for +mosquitoes, there are bars. Adieu."</p> + +<p>And thus we parted, never to meet again in mutual mood like this!</p> + +<p>Yet, had the free agency of which some men boast been ours, we had +scarcely chosen to face the awful change—to look into each other's eyes +through gathering death-doom!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_III"></a><h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Before my dreaming eyes was the terror of a hungry, crunching tooth, +fixed in the vessel's side, that of the iceberg, lying black in the +moonlight like a great coal crystal, grimly awaiting our approach, but +the reality, as well as the figment, had disappeared when I emerged at +sunrise from the suffocating cabin, to the atmosphere of the cool and +quiet quarter-deck, which had just undergone its matutinal.</p> + +<p>Armed with an orange and a biscuit for physical refreshment, I depended +on sea and sky for my mental entertainment; and in my hand I bore a +slender scroll, destined as a propitiatory offering to our offended +helmsman.</p> + +<p>I was glad to find again at the wheel our pilot of yesterday.</p> + +<p>"Your iceberg has disappeared, Mr. Garth," I said, as I extended to him +the sketch I had made of his noble <i>physique</i> the day before, "and here +is a picture for your wife, which she will see was not drawn for fun. +Women are sharper than men about such matters. There, I bestow it not +without regret." He received my offering with a smile, and nod of his +great curly head, opened it, gazed long and seriously upon it, and, with +the single word "Good," rolled it up again, and consigned it to some +bosom pocket in his flannel shirt, into which it seemed to glide as a +telescope into its case, revealing, as he did so, glimpses of a hairy +breast, and vigorous chest, more admirable for strength than beauty, +certainly.</p> + +<p>"I will keep it there," he said, "young miss," pressing it closely +against his side with his colossal hand, "until I get safe home to the +Jarseys, and to Sall, or go to Davy's locker, one or other, but which it +will be, young gal—young miss, I should be saying—is not for me to +know."</p> + +<p>"Nor for any one," I rejoined, solemnly; "all rests with God."</p> + +<p>"With God and our engineer," he resumed, tersely; "them sails is of +little account, now the mainmast is struck away; them floppen +petticoats, wat the wind loves to play in and out, layin' along like a +lazy lubber that it is, and leaving its work for others to do. It was a +noble mast, though, while it stood—and you could smell the turpentine +blood in its heart to the very last. It was as limber as a sapling, and +never growed brittle, like some wood, with age and dryness. No storm +could splinter it, and it would fling itself over into the high waves +sometimes, rayther than snap and lash them like a whip. But there it +lies, burned with the fire of heaven's wrath, at last, and leaving its +fires of hell behind, in the heart of the Kosciusko."</p> + +<p>"You have changed your mind on the subject of engines, Mr. Garth, I am +glad to see. Truly, ours seems to be doing giant's work; now we are +flying, to be sure."</p> + +<p>"Rushing, not flying, young lady—that's the word; our wings are little +use to-day, you see, such as are left to us. Runnin' for dear life, we'd +better say, for that's the truth of the matter, and may the merciful +Lord speed us, and have in his care all helpless ones this day!"</p> + +<p>The lifted hand, the bared head, the earnest accents, with which these +words were spoken, gave to this simple utterance of good-will all the +solemnity of a benediction or prayer.</p> + +<p>I noticed that, after replacing his tarpaulin, the lips of Garth +continued to move silently, then were compressed gravely for a time, +while his eye, large, clear, and expressive, was fixed on space.</p> + +<p>"Do you still see an iceberg, Mr. Garth? Do you really apprehend danger +for us now?" I asked, after studying his countenance for a moment; "or, +are you again desirous to try the nerves of your female passengers? I +think I must apply to the captain this time for information."</p> + +<p>"Yes, danger," he replied, in low, sad tones, ignoring my last remark, +or perhaps not hearing it at all—"danger, compared with which an +iceberg might be considered in the light of a heavenly marcy. There is a +chance of grazing one of them snow-bowlders, or of its drifting away +from a ship, when the ripples reach it, or, if the wust comes, a body +can scramble overboard, and manage to live on the top of one of them +peaks, or in one of their ice-caves, with a few blankets, and a little +bread and junk and water, fur a space, so as to get a chance of meetin' +a ship, or a schooner; but, when there is something wrong in a ship's +heart, there ain't much hope for rescue, onless it comes from above."</p> + +<p>He hesitated, smiling grimly, rolled his quid, crammed his hat down over +his eyes, and again addressed himself to his wheel, and, for a few +moments, I stood beside him silently.</p> + +<p>"The ship is leaking, I suppose," I said at last, "so that you apprehend +her loss, perhaps," and my heart sank coldly within me, as I spoke; +"but, if this be true, why does not the captain apprise us? No, you are +quizzing me again, and very cruelly this time, very unwarrantably."</p> + +<p>Yet I did not think exactly as I spoke, strive as I might to believe the +man in jest. Too much solemnity and sorrow both were discernible in his +worn and rugged features, hewn grandly as if from granite, to admit of a +hope like this. His words were earnest, and some great calamity was in +store, I could not doubt, or at least he apprehended such. For some time +he replied not, then, slowing pointing to the base of the stricken +mainmast, which still showed an elevation of some inches above the deck, +he revealed to me the truth without a word.</p> + +<p>As my eyes followed his guiding finger, I saw, with terror unspeakable, +a thin blue wavering smoke-wreath, float upward from the floor, and, +after curling feebly about the truncated mast, disappear in the clear +sunlit atmosphere, again to arise from the same point, that of the +juncture of the mast and deck, creeping through some invisible crevice, +as it seemed to form itself eternally in filmy folds, and successively +elude the eye as soon as it shaped to sight. I understood him then. +There was fire in the heart of the ship, and I knew the hold was filled +with cotton; it was smouldering slowly, and our safety was a question of +time alone!</p> + +<p>Pale, transfixed, frozen, I lifted my eyes to the man, who seemed to +represent my fate for the moment. "Was it the lightning?" I asked, after +a pause, during which his pitying eye rested on me drearily. "Did the +fire occur in that way?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the lightning it was; and God's hand, which sent the shaft direct, +alone can deliver us."</p> + +<p>I seemed to hear the voice of Bertie speak these words. Things grew +confused; I wavered as I stood, lifted my hand to my head; the face of +Christian Garth grew large and dim, then, faded utterly. I knew no more +until I found myself seated on a coil of rope, leaning against the +bulwark, while a young girl stood beside me, fanning and bathing my +face, and offering me a glass of water.</p> + +<p>"You are better now," she said, kindly; "the man at the wheel called me +as I was passing, and pointed out your condition, and I led you here, +and ran for water. Being up so early is apt to disagree with some +people."</p> + +<p>"What are these people crawling about the deck for? Is all hope over, or +was it only a dream?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are quite wild yet from your swoon; it is only the calkers +stopping up the seams, one of the captain's queer whims they say; but +how they are to dance to-night, those <i>magnificos</i> I mean, without +ruining their slippers with this pitch, I cannot see! Thank Goodness! I +belong to a church, and am not of this party, and don't care on my own +account, nor does the captain, I believe. I was placed under his care at +Savannah, and I suppose it is only to stop the ball that—"</p> + +<p>She was interrupted by the approach of the officer under discussion, but +he passed us gloomily and went on to inspect the workmen so unseasonably +employed, as it seemed, in a labor that, save in a case of long voyages, +is always performed in port.</p> + +<p>His melancholy air, and the preoccupation of his manner, confirmed my +worst fears.</p> + +<p>Again I sought the Ixion of the vessel, who calmly and stolidly +performed his duty as if, indeed, Fate directed, without a change of +feature now, or expression.</p> + +<p>"Has the captain no hope of rescue, Mr. Garth?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; he thinks we shall meet a ship or two between now and noon—we +'most always do, you know"—rolling his quid slowly, and hesitating for +a while; "keep heart, keep heart! I had thought from your face you were +stronger; besides, the pumps are doing good work in the hold: who knows +what may come of it, who knows?"</p> + +<p>Alas! alas! I could not rise to the level of this dim hope. "Think of +the burning crowd, the sheet of flame, the terrible destruction!" I +murmured; "I must go now and apprise those poor wretches below that +their time is short; they have a right to know."</p> + +<p>His vice-like hand was on my arm. "You do not go a step on such an +errand," he muttered. "It is the captain's business; he will 'tend to it +when the time comes, for he is a true man, and, the bravest sailor on +the line. He means to do what's right, never fear. It is my dooty to +hold you here until he comes, onless you promise me to be discreet."</p> + +<p>"I shall be discreet, never fear—" and his grasp relaxed. I sped me +back to the coil of rope on which I had left my young companion, +intending to partake with her there my biscuit and orange, so needed now +for strength.</p> + +<p>I found in her stead (for she had departed in the interval) a +delicate-looking young woman, plain and poor, a widow evidently from the +style of her shabby mourning and sad expression of face, bearing in her +arms a weird and sickly-looking child, evidently a sufferer from spinal +disease—an infant as to size, but preternaturally old in countenance.</p> + +<p>The steady gaze of its large and serious eyes affected me +magnetically—eyes that seemed ever seeking something that still eluded +them, and which now appeared to inquire into my very soul.</p> + +<p>"Is your little boy ill, madam?" I asked at last; and at the sound of my +voice a smile broke over his small, sallow features, lending them +strange beauty, but dying away instantly again into an expression of +startled suspicion.</p> + +<p>"Yes, very ill," she answered, clasping him tenderly as he clung to her +suddenly. "He has some settled trouble that no medicine reaches, and you +see how small and light he is. Many a twelve months' babe is heavier +than he, yet he is three years old come Monday next, and he is 'cute +beyond his years, it seems to me."</p> + +<p>"You seem very weak and weary," I rejoined. "I noticed you yesterday +with interest, sitting all the time with your boy on your knee. You must +need exercise and rest. Go and walk now a little, while you can;" and I +stretched my arms for her baby.</p> + +<p>To her surprise, evidently, he came to me willingly—attracted, no +doubt, by the gleam of the watch-chain about my neck, and still further +propitiated by a portion of my orange, which he greedily devoured.</p> + +<p>In the mean time the poor, pale mother took a few turns on the +quarter-deck, and, disappearing therefrom a moment, returned with a +small supply of cakes and biscuits which she had sought in the steward's +room.</p> + +<p>An inspiration of Providence, no doubt, she thought this proceeding +later, which at the moment was only intended to anticipate the delay +attendant on all second-class meals.</p> + +<p>These cakes, with a pains-taking diligence, if not +fore-thought—peculiar to all feeble animals, squirrels, sick children, +and the like—did he one by one cram, and compel into my pocket, +unconscious as I was at the moment of his miser-like proceeding +(instinctive, probably), which later I detected, to his infinite +rejoicing. In company with my slender purse, and bunch of useless keys, +a pencil, and a small memorandum-book, they remained <i>perdu</i> until that +moment of accidental discovery arrived which was to test their value and +place it "far above that of rubies."</p> + +<p>Light as a pithless nut seemed this little creature in my strong, +energetic arms, and yet his mother staggered beneath his weight.</p> + +<p>She insisted, however, after a time, on resuming her charge of him, as +it was proper she should do, and then sat beside me, delivering herself +of a long string of complaints and grievances, after the fashion of all +second-rate, solitary people when secure of sympathy.</p> + +<p>She overrated my benevolence on this occasion, however. I was lost in +painful reverie, and scarcely understood a word of her communication, +which I was obliged at last to cut short, for I had resolved, now that +my strength was recruited, on the only visible course remaining to me—I +would seek Miss Lamarque, confide to her the statement of Christian +Garth, relate to her what my eyes had seen, and be guided by her +determination and judgment, with those of her brother, a man of sense, I +saw, and whose instincts, no doubt, would all be sharpened by the +jeopardy of his children.</p> + +<p>She was sitting up in her state-room when I knocked at the door, still +in her berth, the lower one—from which the upper shelf had been lifted +so as to afford her room and air—looking very Oriental and handsomer +than I ever had seen her, in her bright Madras night-turban and fine +white cambric wrapper richly trimmed.</p> + +<p>Her face broke into smiles as soon as she beheld me; and she invited +me, in a way not to be resisted, so resolute and yet so kindly was it, +to partake with her of the hot coffee her maid was just handing her in +bed, in a small gilded cup, a portion of the service on the stand beside +her.</p> + +<p>"It is our Southern custom, you know, Miss Harz—always our <i>café noir</i> +before breakfast, as a safeguard against malaria. To be sure, there is +nothing of that sort to be apprehended at sea, but still habits are +inveterate; second nature, as the moralists and copy-books say, as if +there ever could be more than one. What nonsense these wiseacres talk, +to be sure! But there is cream, you see, for those who like it—boiled +down and bottled for the use of the children before leaving home—one of +Dominica's notions;" and here the smiling maid, with her little, +respectful courtesy, tendered me a reviving cup of Miss Lamarque's +morning beverage, Mocha, made to the last point of perfection, dripped +and filtered over a spirit-lamp by Dominica, the skillful and +neat-handed.</p> + +<p>"But you are very pale to-day, my child—what on earth can be the +matter?—There, Dominica, I thought I heard Florry cry! Go and help +Caliste get the children ready for a trot upon deck before breakfast, +and don't forget to give each one a gill of cream and a biscuit—or, +stay, twice as much for the two elder before they go up. It may be some +time before they get their regular morning meal.—They have to wait, you +know, Miss Harz, which is such rank injustice where children are +concerned. Patience never belongs to unreasoning creatures, unless an +instinct, as with animals; men have to learn its lessons through the +teachings of experience—that strictest of school-masters. Now, you see, +I have my lecturing-cap on, and am almost equal to you or Dr. Lardner +in my way. But it takes you to define fascination! I suppose Mrs. +Heavyside, however, could help you there—for nothing short of +witchcraft could account to me for her elopement with that dreary man! +To leave her sweet children, too, as if all the men on earth could be +worth to a true mother her teething baby's little toe or finger!"</p> + +<p>"Would she never stop—never give one loop-hole for doubt to enter?" I +thought.</p> + +<p>"But what in the world ails you—has Dunmore, the disconsolate, been +making love again? Has Captain Falconer declared himself too soon? and +do you hesitate, on account of Miss Moore? Don't let that consideration +influence you, I beg, for she is the greatest flirt in Savannah, the +truest to the vocation, and I like her for that, anyhow. Whatever a man +or woman has to do, let him or her do earnestly. That isn't exactly +Scripture, but near enough, don't you think so?" and she laughed +merrily.</p> + +<p>"I have been on deck this morning," I commenced, "Miss Lamarque, and saw +Christian Garth, and—"</p> + +<p>"He has been terrifying and electrifying you again with his tale of +horrors—there, it is all out. Why, he is as sensational as 'Jane Eyre,' +this new English novel I am just reading," drawing it from under her +pillow and holding it aloft as she spoke. "Currer Bell is not more +mysteriously awful, but Garth is not artistic. I detected his intention +by the inconsistency of his expression of face, which bore no part in +his narrative, and at once exposed him, you must remember—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—but this time—"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Miriam Harz! the iceberg is gone, I know. Why, what a nervous +coward you are, to be sure, with all that assumed bravery! I am twice +as courageous, I do believe, despite appearances; I really begin to be +of opinion that it is safer to be at sea than on land—now what do you +think of that for a heterodoxy?—A second cup? why, of course, and a +third, if you want it; I am delighted you like it. These little Sèvres +toys are but thimbles, but I always carry them about with me by sea and +land, and have for years; I feel as if there were luck in them, not one +of the original three has been broken—there—there!—just as I was +boasting, too!—never mind, such accidents <i>will</i> occur; but your pretty +pongee dress is sadly stained with the coffee; besides, as <i>you</i> dropped +the cup, it is <i>your</i> luck, not mine; and I want an odd saucer, anyhow, +to feed Desirée out of; she sleeps in that willow basket you see in the +corner of the state-room, Miss Harz, and is lazy, like her mistress, of +mornings.—Desirée! Desirée! peep out, can't you, now you have your +long-desired Sèvres saucer to lap milk from?—She won't touch delft, +Miss Harz. She is the most fastidious little creature!"</p> + +<p>"Alas! alas!" and I groaned aloud.</p> + +<p>"Not taking on about that silly cup, I hope—no; what can it be then, a +megrim? No. Well, I can't imagine any thing worse, to save my life. +Here, let me read you this, it is fine—it is where Jane Eyre feels +herself deserted, and this comparison about 'the dried-up channel of a +river' thrills one. Just hear it;" and she was about commencing—</p> + +<p>"Not now—not now, Miss Lamarque; stern realities demand our attention. +Lay your book aside, be calm, be firm, but listen to me seriously. +Christian Garth informs me, nor he alone—my own eyes have done the +rest—that the cotton in the hold has taken fire from the lightning +yesterday; has been slowly smouldering ever since the mast was +struck—and that the ship's hours are numbered!"</p> + +<p>"O God! O God!" and she bowed her head upon her clasped and quivering +hands. "But, Captain Ambrose—he did not tell you so?" looking up +suddenly. "Christian Garth, indeed! his impudence is surprising—another +hoax, I suppose," and she tried to smile; "such a coarse creature, too!"</p> + +<p>"We shall see, but for the present say nothing; only get up and dress as +quickly as you can, but it is important to be very quiet, for fear of +causing confusion. I have promised discretion."</p> + +<p>"Call Dominica, then, for me, Miss Harz," gasping and stretching forth +her arms. "I can do nothing for myself—nothing—I am so weak, so +helpless. Yet I must believe he is—you are mistaken!"</p> + +<p>"I trust it may prove so. But let me assist you; Dominica is best +employed making ready the little ones and giving them food—strengthening +them for the struggle. She will be nerveless if she knows the truth, and +you are not in a condition to conceal it."</p> + +<p>"Just as you will, then. My trunk—will you be so kind as to unlock it +and give me out the tray—that picture? After that I can get along +alone."</p> + +<p>I silently did as she desired, and saw her place a covered miniature +about her neck before she arose. Very few minutes sufficed this morning +for her toilet—usually a tedious and fastidious one—her dress, her +bonnet, her shawl, were hastily thrown on, her watch secured with the +few jewels lying upon the night-table; the rest of her valuables were +with other boxes in the hold, the repository of all unneeded baggage, +and these, of course, she could scarcely hope to save in case of fire, +even if lives were rescued.</p> + +<p>Then, together, we went out, just in time to join the little troop of +young children and nurses on their way to the deck. Miss Lamarque did +not reply to their tumultuous greeting, but, silently taking the baby +Florry, her namesake, in her arms, kissed her many times. I had told her +while, she was dressing, of the smoke-wreaths about the base of the +broken mast, and she believed in the testimony my eyes had afforded me +far more than in the reports of Christian Garth. We did not encounter +Mr. Lamarque when we first went on deck; he had gone forward to smoke, +some one said; but Captain Ambrose was standing alone, telescope in +hand, and to him we addressed ourselves, quietly.</p> + +<p>He seemed startled when I disclosed the result of my observation—for I +did not choose to commit the pilot—but he did not attempt to deny the +truth of the condition of things, and conjured us both to entire quiet +and composure, and, if possible, to absolute silence. The safety of five +hundred people, he said, depended on our discretion; the ship might not +ignite for days, if at all, he thought, so carefully had the air been +excluded from the cotton by the process of tight calking, so as to seal +it almost hermetically; indeed, the fire might be wholly extinguished by +the pumps, which were constantly at work, pouring streams of water +around and through the hold; and a panic would be equal to a fire in any +case. Such were his calmness and apparent faith in his own words, that +they did much to allay Miss Lamarque's fears. My own were little +soothed—I never doubted from the beginning what the end would be.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lamarque approached us while the conference with the captain was +going on, and, under the seal of secrecy, the condition of affairs was +communicated to that gentleman.</p> + +<p>I never saw a man so crushed and calm at the same time. His handsome +face seemed turned to stone—he scarcely spoke at all, and made no +inquiries. I think his mind, like mine, was made up to the worst. Yet he +commanded himself so far as to go to the breakfast-table and superintend +the meal of his little children, about whom he hung, like a mother-bird +who sees the shadow of a hawk above her brood, from that moment until +the <i>dénoûment</i> of the drama separated us two forever.</p> + +<p>Miss Lamarque and I sat down together on a bench, while the host of +hungry passengers crowded down to the cabin at the welcome summons of +the bell, and I was aware again of the pale widow and her patient child +standing near me.</p> + +<p>A sudden thought occurred to me. This woman, more than any one among us, +needed the strengthening stimulus of good food, and this meal might be +her last on shipboard—on earth, perhaps—for a dull, low, ominous sound +began to make itself heard to my ear as soon as the murmur of the crowd +subsided.</p> + +<p>"Trust me with your child again while you go down and eat your breakfast +in my place to-day. It is a whim of mine. I have had coffee with this +lady in her state-room, and shall not appear at the table. You may bring +me a slice of bread, if you choose, when you come back, and one for +baby. Do not refuse me this favor."</p> + +<p>Much pleased at my attention, as I could see, she went to the grand +first table, with its high-heaped salvers of snowy rolls and biscuit, +its delicate birds and fowls, its fragrant coffee and tea, so different +from the dregs of the humble board at which her second-class ticket +alone entitled her to appear; and, to save her from possible +humiliation, I wrote a line to the steward; so she feasted, no doubt, in +state.</p> + +<p>Again I enacted the <i>rôle</i> of self-appointed nurse to a creature that +looked more like a fairy changeling than a flesh-and-blood creation.</p> + +<p>"You are a strange woman, Miriam Harz! At such an hour as this, what +matters the quality of food?" said Miss Lamarque, sententiously. "After +all, what can that invalid and her child be to you in any case? They are +essentially common and mean. You never saw them before, and may never +see them again."</p> + +<p>"In view of such a catastrophe as that before us, all distinctions fade, +Miss Lamarque. This is the last meal any one will take on the ship +Kosciusko—she is doomed! The woman might as well get strength for the +chance of saving herself and child. I doubt whether any second table +will be spread to-day!" I spoke with anguish.</p> + +<p>"You cannot believe this! Why, after what the captain said, days may go +by before any real danger manifests itself! Ships must pass in the +interval—many ships may pass to-day, within a few hours, ready for our +relief, if needed; and see, the smoke has ceased to curl about your +broken main-mast! That shows convincingly that the fire is being gotten +under—extinguished, probably."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! no! no! not with that low, terrible roaring in the hold. The +fire is gaining strength, and our agony will soon be over."</p> + +<p>I sat with clasped hands and bowed head before her, insensible to her +words. I suppose she strove to strengthen me. I think she tried to +soothe. Failing in both, she rose and went away, and in her place came +Christian Garth, relieved from the helm, and stood a moment beside me.</p> + +<p>"Don't be down-hearted, young gal, an' wait for me. Ef the Lord lets me, +I will save you, and the old lady, too; that is, ef she is your aunt or +mother or near of kin."</p> + +<p>I shook my head drearily.</p> + +<p>"You have no hope, then, Mr. Garth?"</p> + +<p>"Hope? yes; the best of hope—the Christian's hope. God can do any thing +He pleases, we all know, and He may stretch forth his hand when all +seems dark; but Captain Ambrose is not one to run a risk of that sort, +so he has sent me to work upon a raft—one of two he is making for the +seamen if the wust comes to the wust. But you see, I have been on lost +ships afore now, an' I know there is no larboard nor starboard rules +when men are skeered. So I shall make my raft to hold the womenfolk, for +the boats will be for the sailors—mark my word—and them that's wise +will wait till the press is over and take the rafts."</p> + +<p>"There are little children," I said; "six of them belonging to that lady +and Mr. Lamarque. Don't forget them, Mr. Garth, and the poor little +widow coming now to claim her baby; this miserable little creature I am +holding until she breakfasts. Don't lose sight of these, either, in the +crowd, if, indeed, we are obliged to have recourse to your raft."</p> + +<p>"Pray rayther that it may float us all to safety," he said, sternly, +"for your best chance of being saved will be on that raft, if matters go +as I think they will. Trust me, for I will come;" and he passed away +just before the little widow came to my side again.</p> + +<p>"I came up as soon as I could, to relieve you. I know how cross baby is +when he gets restless, and I was afraid you might tire of him. See! I +have brought his bread, and this waiter of tea and toast for you; now +you must take a mouthful."</p> + +<p>She knew nothing of our danger, it was plain. "Did you leave the other +passengers at table?" I asked; "the captain, was he there?"</p> + +<p>The question was never answered, for the attention of my interlocutor +was riveted now, as was my own, on the companion-way, from which a wild +and frightened-looking crowd was densely emerging, with a confused hum +of voices that announced their recognition of their impending danger. +The change of age, of pain, of woe, seemed sealed upon each aspect, as +one by one, and phantom-like, in rapid succession, those who had so +lately gone down to feast returned to the upper day, like grim ghosts +coming from a church-yard carnival.</p> + +<p>It was a sight to stir the stoutest spirit.</p> + +<p>At the close of the repast, the captain had announced the truth to his +passengers, and followed them now to enjoin them to firmness and +efficiency, both so greatly needed at this crisis.</p> + +<p>Mounted on the capstan, he addressed them briefly, and not without +influence. Such was the power of his simple and manly bearing over these +distracted souls, that even the wildest listened with decorum.</p> + +<p>This was no immigrant-ship, loaded with stolid or desperate men, +insensible of high teachings, and alone desirous of personal safety. Yet +the universal instinct asserted itself, and for the time courtesies were +set aside, and family affections were all that were regarded.</p> + +<p>Miss Lamarque, pale, yet collected, now stood surrounded by the children +of her brother, leaning upon his arm while the captain spoke. Husbands +and wives were together, sisters and brothers, servants and their +masters—each group revealed its several household affinities. We only +were alone—the dreary little widow, whose name I never knew, and Miriam +Monfort; and on natural principles we clung together.</p> + +<p>It is true that Miss Lamarque, by many signs, implored me to come to +her, but I would not. It was like intruding on a bed of death, I felt, +to break through ties of blood at such a time, by thrusting a foreign +presence amid devoted relatives; and I was too proud, or perhaps too +selfish, to intrude where I must be secondary, unless I took away +another's rights.</p> + +<p>The captain had promised, in his brief address, to protect his +passengers to the utmost of his power—leaving the result with God. He +had entreated them to be calm, and to preserve order—so essential to +safety; had mentioned his confidence that a ship must pass before the +catastrophe could possibly occur; but added that, to prepare for the +worst, he had ordered the construction of two rafts—one for the use of +the seamen, the other for the reception of food and necessaries.</p> + +<p>His plan was to attach these to the larger boats, and so provide against +want; in the certainty, however, that on such a route relief must soon +present itself, in the shape of ship or steamer.</p> + +<p>He called on all able to abet his exertions to present themselves +forthwith, so that universal safety might be insured; not only by making +the rafts, but the securing of food upon them, and comforts for the +women and children, who represented so large a portion of the +passengers. He answered for the fidelity of his seamen with his life. +There was not one among them, he knew, who would lift a finger to +disobey him. He said these words in conclusion:</p> + +<p>"And now, if there is any one present sufficiently imbued with the grace +of God to fix the anxious minds of these voyagers in prayer, such at +least of them as are powerless otherwise to aid our exertions, let him +appear and minister to their tribulation. This task is not for me, +although the holiest. My duties call me elsewhere."</p> + +<p>So adjured, a man, whose wild, fanatical appearance had given rise to +the rumor that the famous "Lorenzo Dow" was on board, sprang on a +bulkhead, and commenced to exhort the crowd about him, from which a file +of pale, determined-looking men was slowly emerging to join the seamen +at the other end of the vessel in their efforts for the public weal. But +many lingered, either overcome and paralyzed by the stringency of +circumstances, or unequal to exertions from personal causes—aged men, +women, and children, chiefly—and to these the frenzied speaker +continued to address his words of exhortation and warning.</p> + +<p>Such a tirade of terrible objurgation I felt was entirely out of place +in a scene like this, and calculated to excite the worst passions of the +human mind, instead of persuading it to serenity and submission, so +essential now; for to me the captain's last words represented the final +grace of the preacher, when, with closed eyes and outspread hands, he +dismissed his flock from the temple at the close of the services. From +that vessel and all that concerned it we were virtually enfranchised +from that moment—dismissed to destruction, so to speak, by fire or +flood, or rescue from beyond, as the case might be, to life or death, as +God willed—for the ship's mission was accomplished.</p> + +<p>I shrank as far as possible from the wild, waving arms, the frenzied +eyes, the gaunt and wolfish aspect, the piercing, agonized voice of the +fanatic, who had assumed to himself the solemn office of soul-comforter +in a time of extremity. I saw from a distance his long, lank figure +writhing like a sapling in a storm, as it overtopped the crowd; but his +words were lost on my ear, and I sat leaning back against the bulwark +with folded hands, absorbed in my own thoughts, when a young girl, +bursting from the throng, came and threw herself down before me, and +buried her face in my lap, convulsed with sobs. When she looked up, I +recognized the young person who had bathed my face in the morning during +my partial swoon—a fair and lovely-looking girl of about eighteen +years, pallid and ill now with excitement.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is so terrible!" she cried; "I cannot—cannot bear it, and he +says we are all hopelessly lost unless we have repented; that there is +no death-bed salvation; and this is our death-bed, you know, for the +Spanish ship passed us without stopping, and we scarcely hope to see +another. O cruel, cruel fiends! to pretend they did not understand our +signals, and leave us to destruction."</p> + +<p>And she clasped her hands in mute and bitter despair—no actress was +ever so impressive.</p> + +<p>"We must make up our minds to the worst," I said, as calmly as I could. +"Then, if God sees fit to deliver us, we shall be all the more thankful. +You must not believe what this ignorant and panic-stricken man tells +you. Think of the thief on the cross whom Christ pardoned in dying."</p> + +<p>"Then you hope to be permitted to see God! You dare to hope this?" she +asked, gazing into my very eyes, so closely did she come to me.</p> + +<p>"Oh, surely in his own good time! I have done nothing so very wicked, I +hope, as to exclude me from my Father's face forever—have you? Now, +don't be frightened; speak calmly."</p> + +<p>"I don't know—I don't know. I should be afraid not to call myself +desperately wicked at such a time; he says we all are, you know. We are +all miserable sinners."</p> + +<p>"It is very abject to talk and feel thus, and I don't believe that God +approves of it," I said, indignantly. "He gives us self-respect, and +commands us to cherish it. Such abasement is unworthy of Christian +souls. It is very bitter to die, as young as we are; but, if we have +done our best to serve Him, we need—we ought not to be afraid to meet +our God."</p> + +<p>She clung to my outstretched hand. She strengthened my spirit by the +fullness of her need. The feeble widow with her child, too, crept close +to me, weeping and trembling.</p> + +<p>"Do not leave me," she entreated; "let us stay together to the very +last."</p> + +<p>"Nay, that may be a long time," I answered, smiling feebly, and nerved +for the first time to encouragement; "for the captain will do his best +to save his passengers—the women especially, I cannot doubt; and see +what bounteous provision he is making for their support!"</p> + +<p>And I pointed to the piles of flour and sugar barrels, the boxes of +crackers and of hams; of figs and raisins, the hampers of wine and ale, +which were profusely piled on the quarter-deck ready for lowering to the +rafts.</p> + +<p>"He means to take care of us, you see, by the permission of Providence," +I said, almost strengthened by this dependence, "and we will remain +calmly together, and drink whatever cup God offers us—humbly, I hope." +Yet, even as I spoke, my heart rebelled against the fiat of my fate, and +the young life within me rose up in fierce conflict with its doom.</p> + +<p>At this moment of bitter strife of heart, Mr. Dunmore, the youthful poet +of whom I have already spoken, stood before me.</p> + +<p>"I have found you at last," he said, "deputed as I am to do so by Miss +Lamarque. It is a point of honor with her to care for you personally in +this crisis. You know Major Favraud placed you under her care; besides +that, her regard for you impels this request. She bids me say—"</p> + +<p>I interrupted him hastily.</p> + +<p>"This is no time for ceremonials, truly, Mr. Dunmore; yet, had family +concurrence been perfect, it seems to me that her brother might have +undertaken this mission. I have no wish to thrust myself undesired into +any household circle at such a crisis."</p> + +<p>"He is wholly absorbed with his children."</p> + +<p>"As he ought to be, Mr. Dunmore, and, when the time of peril comes, it +is of their needs alone that he will and must think. I am alone in this +vessel, as I shall remain. I did not leave Savannah under Miss +Lamarque's care. She is very generous, very considerate, but I will not +embarrass her motions, nor yours, nor any one's. It is the duty of +Captain Ambrose to see to the welfare of his female passengers. I shall +not be forgotten among these—"</p> + +<p>He stood before me with his knightly head uncovered, his handsome face +as calm as though he were a guest at a festival instead of a patient and +interested watcher at a funeral-pyre. His birth, his breeding, his +genius even, asserted themselves in that mortal hour. He was calm, +collected, serious, but not afraid.</p> + +<p>"The peril will be great to all, of course," he said, quietly, "but no +gentleman will prefer his own safety to that of the most humble and +desolate woman on the ship. To you, Miss Harz, I devote my energies +to-day, to you and these ladies of your party, whoever they may be—," +bowing gently as he spoke. "I may fail in delivering you from danger, +but it shall not be for want of effort on my part. Believe my words, I +have less care for life than most people, and now let me offer you my +escort through that maddened crowd (the rest may follow closely), to +reach Miss Lamarque."</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Dunmore, I <i>must</i> remain just where I am, I have promised +myself to do so; this is much; and these unhappy women—they, like +myself, are alone, or seem to be. Should you see fit to do so, and be +willing to be so encumbered, you can return after a lapse of time; but +make no point of this, I entreat you. I think that Captain Ambrose will +observe good order and save his helpless ones first. You know he +promised this—"</p> + +<p>There was a moment's pause, and movement of eye and hand, and then he +spoke again, very softly:</p> + +<p>"Yes, and much more that can never be fulfilled, for already the cabin +is in flames, the companion-way is closed, and the fire in the hold is +making fearful headway. I have heard the seamen have sworn to secure the +boats; you are strong and resolute—be prepared for the very worst." +Then, speaking in his usual tone, he added: "Since the banner of Spain +passed near enough to show us the rampant lions and castles on its +crimson shield, and yet made no sign, I have had little hope of rescue +from a ship. It was ominous!"</p> + +<p>"Not intended, then," I said, eagerly. "Oh, I am glad of this, at +least, for the honor of human nature."</p> + +<p>"A strange consideration at such a time! You are a study to me, Miss +Harz; yours is not apathy, like mine, but true courage, even in this +death-struggle, and I will save you if I can, for you have a noble +soul!"</p> + +<p>All further dialogue was cut short by the wild shout that rose from the +crowd, the delusive cry of "A sail, a sail!" and Dunmore rushed with the +rest to descry its myth-like form, if possible. It was some moments +before hope again died down to a flat level of despair.</p> + +<p>Too remote for signal or trumpet was that distant, white-winged vessel +gliding securely on its path of peace, unconscious of the extremity of +the mighty steamer it distinguished dimly, no doubt, by the aid of +telescopes.</p> + +<p>However this might have been, for the second time on that day of direst +exigency, a ship went by, observed yet unobserving.</p> + +<p>Fainter and fainter grew the accents of the fierce, fanatical preacher; +his excitement forsook him as the danger became more and more imminent.</p> + +<p>The crowd broke into groups. Pale, stern men, with rigid features, who +had been employed aiding in the construction of the rafts, returned now +to the sides of their wives and children.</p> + +<p>Through a vista on the deck I discerned Miss Lamarque, sitting quietly +with her youngest nursling in her arms, beside her brother. His children +and slaves were gathered around her knees. Dunmore was giving her my +message, I could not doubt, from the glances she cast in my direction, +as he stood near by. I knew that he would soon turn to come again, but +my resolution was fixed.</p> + +<p>Captain Ambrose, with a face grown old in half a day, gray, abstracted, +wretched, passed and repassed me several times, telescope in hand.</p> + +<p>Ralph Maxwell on the round-house kept constant watch, his attitude +dauntless, his face uplifted and keen, field-glass in hand. His +West-Point training stood him in good stead now. Captain Falconer, a +naval officer, had returned to the side of Miss Oscanyan, the woman he +had loved hopelessly for years, and, before the scene closed between us +forever, I saw him clasp her to his bosom; so that trying hour had for +some high spirits its crowning consolations, its solace and reward, and, +whatever else was in store, the martyrdom of love was over.</p> + +<p>An eager hand caught my shawl. "He is coming back, coming to persuade +you to leave us," said the young girl; "but you have promised not to +part from us, and I feel that God will remember us if we remain together +firm and fast, we three."</p> + +<p>Then the pale widow spoke in turn: "Let me stay beside you too," she +entreated; "it makes me feel stronger, I am so desolate—" and she bowed +her head and wept.</p> + +<p>I would have said in the strange, calm bitterness that possessed my +soul: "What value has life to you and your deformed one? Poor, widowed, +sickly, and despised, why should you wish to live? Why encumber me?"</p> + +<p>But thoughts like these were not for human utterance now, and we sat +together, hand locked in hand for a time, waiting for the end, as men +may wait in years to come, when the earth is gray with sin, for the +coming of the fiery comet that they know is destined to consume them.</p> + +<p>For was not this ship our world, penned in as we were on every side, and +separated from all else by an ocean inexorable and illimitable as space, +and were not we likewise looking forward to a fiery doom—our finite, +perhaps final, day of judgment?</p> + +<p>I could understand then, for the first time, how condemned criminals +feel—well, strong, yet dying! I knew how Walter La Vigne, the +self-doomed, had felt, and some passages of Madame Roland's appeal rose +visibly before me, as if written on the air rather than in my memory. I +had read the book at Beauseincourt, and it had powerfully impressed me; +and this, I remember, was the passage that swept across my brain:</p> + +<p>"And thou whom I dare not name, wouldst thou mourn to see me preceding +thee to a place where we can love one another without wrong—where +nothing will prevent our union—where all pernicious prejudices, all +arbitrary exclusions, all hateful passions, and all tyranny, are silent? +I shall wait for thee, then, and rest!"</p> + +<p>So centred were my dying thoughts on Wentworth—so calmly did I await +the great change that men call sudden death!</p> + +<p>All this time—a time much briefer than that I have taken in recounting +my sensations—the glorious summer's sun, the sun of morning, was +bathing the sea; the ship, with beauty, and a soft, fresh breeze, was +fanning every pallid brow with a caressing, silken wing, that seemed to +mock its wretchedness.</p> + +<p>I thought not once of Christian Garth. I had ceased to strain my eyes +for a distant sail, to seek to compromise with my fate or make +conditions with my Creator. Dunmore was forgotten. I was composed to +die—not resigned. These things are different; a bitter patience +possessed me that I felt would sustain me to the end, but I was not +satisfied that my doom was just or opportune.</p> + +<p>"Farewell, sweet, young, vigorous life!" I moaned aloud. "Farewell, +Miriam! It will not be thou, but a phantom, that shall arise from dead +ashes! Farewell, dear hand, that hast served me long and well!" and I +kissed my own right hand. I had not known until that moment how truly I +loved myself. "Sister, lover, farewell! Mother, father, receive me! +Gentle Constance, reach forth thy guiding hand and lead me to my +parents! Wentworth, remember me! Saviour, my soul is thine!"</p> + +<p>I bowed my head. I had no more to say. Unwilling I was to die—afraid I +was not; for, as I sat there, my whole life swept before me, as it is +said to do before the eyes of the drowning, and rapidly as one may sweep +the gamut on a piano with one introverted finger, and I saw myself as +though I had been another. I had done nothing to make me afraid to meet +my God; so, with closed eyes, I lingered in the shadow, conscious of +nothing save exceeding calm, when the grasp of my gentle friend of the +moment aroused me to a sense of what was occurring, and I saw, with +horror indescribable, the fierce flames leaping from the deck, heard the +hoarse shouts, beheld the lurid surging of an agonized and despairing +multitude! But above all rang the clear, trumpet-tones of Captain +Ambrose, soon to sink in death:</p> + +<p>"To the boats—to the boats! but save the women first—the children—as +ye are Christian men! So help ye, mighty God!"</p> + +<p>I heard later how signally this noble charge was disregarded; how +utterly self triumphed over generosity and duty; and how, in enforcing +the example all should have followed. Captain Ambrose lost his valiant, +valuable life. But this was thought nothing of then, and I sat patiently +down to perish!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_IV"></a><h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was sunset when I first felt able to sit up beneath the awning of +sails which provident hands had stretched above the central platform +reserved for the occupancy of the women and children, spread thick with +mattresses on the raft, and look about me understandingly.</p> + +<p>We were riding smoothly over the long, low, level billows of that summer +sea, sustained beyond their reach on what seemed a rude barn-floor, +composed as this was of the masts, booms, and yards, roughly lashed +together by tarred ropes, no longer needed on the destined ship, and +which had been assigned by the captain for that purpose to Christian +Garth.</p> + +<p>A mast was erected in the front of this hastily-constructed raft, on +three sides of which were breastworks, with strong, loose ropes +attached, so that those who clung to this refuge might support +themselves with comparative safety, or rather have a chance for life, +when our "floating grave" should hang suspended perpendicularly on the +steep side of a mountain-billow, or drift beneath it.</p> + +<p>Just below, and surrounding the small, elevated platform on which I +found myself when I revived, stretched on a slender mattress by the side +of my feeble widow and her moaning child, were rows of barrels, firmly +fastened by cleats, so as insure, to some degree, not only the +preservation of our food and water, but to form a sort of bulwark of +protection for those who occupied the central portion of the raft.</p> + +<p>The young girl, of whom I have spoken as having attached herself to me +during the last moments of my stay on shipboard, and an old negro woman, +whose crooning hymns made a strange accompaniment to the dashing waters, +and whose stolid tranquillity seemed to reproach my anguish, were our +only companions on the sort of dais assigned to his female passengers by +Christian Garth.</p> + +<p>The man himself, to whom we owed our deliverance, stood near his +primitive mast, trimming his sail carefully, and looking out with his +far-reaching, sagacious ken over the waste of waters, into which the +blood-red, full-orbed sun seemed dipping, suddenly, as for his +night-bath.</p> + +<p>A few of the common passengers of the Kosciusko, and a knot of the +seamen, comprising not more than twenty souls, composed the groups, +scattered about the roughly yet securely lashed raft, silent and +observant all, as men who face their doom are apt to be.</p> + +<p>I looked in vain for one familiar face, and for a moment regretted that +I had been withheld, as by some spell, for whose weird influence I could +never sufficiently account, from having cast my destiny with theirs, who +were so much nearer to me in station and congeniality of spirit than +those around me. With Miss Lamarque's hand locked in mine, I should have +vied with her, I felt, in cheerful courage; and the knightly calmness of +Dunmore might have sustained my drooping, fainting soul. These were my +peers, and, <i>with</i> them, I should have been better content to be tried.</p> + +<p>But the white squall, which had in no way affected us (so small and +partial was the sphere of its influence), had sufficed to separate ours +irretrievably from our companion-raft, and the squadron of boats that +had promised not to forsake us. And now the eye of agony was strained in +vain over the weltering waste, for a vestige of those refugees from the +Kosciusko—buried, perhaps, a thousand fathoms deep, by their sudden +visitors, beneath the waves of that deadly Atlantic sea.</p> + +<p>Tears rained over my face as I thought of this probability, and, +hopeless as I was of rescue, the almost certain fate of my +companion-voyagers fell over me like a pall. "Better, perhaps—far +better had it been"—I thought so then—"had we all perished together in +that terrific sheet of flame that rose up like a dividing barrier +between us at the last. Fit emblem of the final day of doom. Our trials +were but begun. What more remained? God in heaven only knew!"</p> + +<p>And rapidly, and in panoramic succession, all the fearful adventures of +raft and boat that I had ever read of, or heard related, passed across +my mind, ending with that latest, and perhaps the most fearful of +all—the wreck of the Medusa!</p> + +<p>The night came down serene and beautiful. As the sun disappeared in +ocean, up rose the full-orbed moon—crimson and magnified by surrounding +vapors—that to the practised eye portended future tempest, calm as the +ocean and the heavens then seemed.</p> + +<p>The constellations, singularly distinct and splendid, had the power to +fix and fascinate my vision—never felt before—as they shone above me, +clear and crystalline as enthroned in space—judges, and spectators, +cold and pitiless as it seemed to me, in the strangeness and forlornness +of my condition—Arcturus, and the Ursas, great and little, and Lyra, +and the Corona Borealis, Berenice, and Hydra, and Cassiopea's chair; +these and many more. I marked them all with a calm scrutiny that belongs +to terror in some phases. The stars seemed mocking eyes that +night—smiling and safe in heaven—the moon, a cold and cruel enemy with +her vapory train, so grandly sailing across the cloudless heaven—so +careless of our fate—the wreck of a ruined world as many deem +her—veiling in light her inward desolation.</p> + +<p>A faint and vapory comet lurked on the horizon—like a ghastly +messenger—scarcely discernible to the human eyes, yet vaguely ominous +and suggestive—a spirit-ship it might be—watching in silence to bear +away the souls of those lost at sea!</p> + +<p>There was deep stillness—unbroken, save by the lapping and plashing +waters. Even the crooning hymns of the old negro woman had died away; +and the moans of the suffering child, and the sobs of the weary mother, +and the eager exclamations of Ada Greene (for such I learned was the +name of my young companion), were, for a season, lost alike in sleep.</p> + +<p>Food had been distributed—prayer had been offered—all seemed favorable +so far to our preservation. We were on the track of voyage—the pathway +of ships—and the sea was tranquil as a summer lake; up to this point, +the arm of God had been extended over us almost visibly. Would He +forsake us now? I questioned thus, and yet I could not, dare not, hope +as others hoped!</p> + +<p>The morning came; I woke, aroused by Salva's song, from troubled sleep; +and, as I rose to a sitting posture, a troop of sea-birds that had been +swooping overhead, fled with a fiend-like screaming.</p> + +<p>The mother and child were already consuming their scant allowance of +food. Ada Greene was standing self-poised, swaying like a slender reed +with the motion of the raft, so as never to lose her balance, like a +young acrobat, with her folded arms, her floating hair, and fair Aurora +face, uplifted to the day.</p> + +<p>Over the raft were scattered groups of men taking their morning meal; +but, as before, the stalwart form of Christian Garth was at the helm, or +rather, mast and rudder merged in one, which he controlled with calm, +sagacious power.</p> + +<p>"Is there a ship in the distance, that you gaze so earnestly?" I asked +of the young girl as I put back my hair that had clustered thickly over +my face in my uneasy slumber, and followed eagerly the direction of her +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh! no; only a school of dolphins; but it is so pretty! Some came quite +near just now; the men were harpooning them; but if we had them we could +not cook them, you know, on this miserable contrivance."</p> + +<p>"One we should be very grateful for, Ada, since it is all that lies +between us and destruction!" I answered, sorrowfully, for the levity of +her spirit grieved and shocked me.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that; I think we might as well have gone down at +once as stay here, and be roasted and starved. How hot it is to-day! +What would I not give for a good glass of ice-water! Don't look so +shocked; we shall be saved, of course. I am not the least afraid about +that, for Mr. Garth says we <i>must</i> see a ship before evening. Don't you +mark the flag flying at the mast-head? He brought it on board on +purpose, so that they might not mistake our country (the packets, I +mean), and give us the go-by as that Spanish vessel did! But they do say +that was a pirate; and that, instead of sitting on a plank, we should +have been walking a plank by this time, had they rescued us. I'm rather +glad they didn't, though, after all—things couldn't be much worse than +they are, could they, now?—There, I came very near falling, I declare!"</p> + +<p>The moans of the sick woman at my side became almost constant toward +noon; and she was obliged to surrender her infant wholly to my charge, +for the haemorrhage of the day before had returned, and she was fast +drifting into unconsciousness. "Water, water!" was the only intelligible +cry that left her lips, and that we had to give was warm and brackish, +from the occasional lapping of the sea against the barrels, into which +it oozed insensibly.</p> + +<p>The sun shone down hot and brazen, from the lurid heavens, covered with +filmy clouds, so equally overspreading it that a thin, gray veil seemed +to interpose between us and its scorching rays, scarcely tempering them +by its diaphanous medium.</p> + +<p>Beneath it lay the sea, like a copper shield, smooth and glowing, +seething like a boiling caldron, with its level foam, for the long, +low-rolling billows lifted themselves but lazily from Ocean's breast, +and assumed no distinctness of form or motion. Not the faintest breeze +came to relieve the stifling closeness of the atmosphere, or lift the +collapsed sail, or furled flag, that clung around our mast. The air +shimmered visibly around us, as though undergoing some transformation +from the heat, some culinary process, through which it was to be +rendered unfit for human lips to breathe. Birds flew low and heavily +around the raft, as though their wings met such resistance as fish find +in water, alighting occasionally to pick up languidly morsels of +rejected food.</p> + +<p>Still the old negro's crooning hymns went on, recommenced with morning +light. To my sad heart, the refrain bore a mournful significance:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"In the land of the New Jerusalem<br /></span> +<span class="i4">There shall be no more sea."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>She sat, a wrinkled hag, with a leering, repulsive face, with her feet +planted firmly on her mattress, her knees elevated, her long, ape-like +arms closely embracing these—her fingers, strung with brass and silver +rings, intertwined with snake-like flexibility.</p> + +<p>On her head was the inevitable bright-colored handkerchief, the badge of +her race, or rather of her condition in those days, and she wore the +decent, blue-cotton frock, which marked her for a plantation-negro. +Large hoops were in her flat, enormous ears, that seemed to suspend her +shoulders as they touched them, drawn up and narrowed as these were, +even beyond their natural hideousness, by her attitude, one which she +maintained as stolidly as a dervish.</p> + +<p>"You must help us," I said, at last, when the crisis came, and affairs +waxed desperate. "You must take the child, at least, and care for him. +See, it requires two persons to sustain his dying mother—one to wet her +lips, one—"</p> + +<p>"'Deed, honey," she interrupted, coolly, "you must 'scuse me dis oncst; +I has jus' as much to do as I kin posomply 'complish, in keepin' of +myself dry, comfable, and singin' ob my hyme-toones. We has all to take +our chances dis time, an' do for our own selves, black and white; an' I +don't see none ob my own white folks on dis raf', wich I is mighty proud +of. Dar, now! I does b'leve dat is a ship sail way off dar. Does you see +it, honey?"</p> + +<p>And she pointed to a large white gull, skimming the main at some +distance. Disgusted with her selfishness, I vouchsafed her no further +notice at the time, and her crooning went on during the whole period of +the bitter death-struggle of that poor sufferer, whose name I never +knew, but whose little, deformed waif, the orphan of the raft, remained +my heritage.</p> + +<p>"You will take care of him," she had said to me, in her last conscious +moments, "my baby-boy, my little—" the name died on her lips, and she +never spoke again.</p> + +<p>When she was dead, Christian Garth caused her to be wrapped in +sail-cloth, weighted with chains, and, with a brief prayer, consigned to +the deep. His superstitious sailor's fears rebelled against the idea of +keeping a corpse on board one moment longer than necessary, so the rites +of sepulture were speedily accomplished.</p> + +<p>When I remonstrated, feebly enough it is true, for exhaustion was +supervening on long-sustained effort, at his haste, which, even under +the circumstances, seemed to me indecent, he coolly spoke of it as a +measure essential to the good of all.</p> + +<p>Talismanic as were these words on such occasion, mine were the lips that +murmured the brief prayer, a portion of the solemn Episcopal +grave-service that I chanced to remember, above the poor, pale corpse, +even while my weary arms inclosed the struggling child, who, +understanding nothing of the truth, would fain have plunged after his +mother into depths unknown.</p> + +<p>A low, long roll of thunder smote on the ear, like a message to the +ocean, from the heavens above, as we saw the waters close greedily over +the form of our dead passenger. The men who had launched the body from +the raft looked up and listened fearfully, and Christian Garth hastened +to trim his sail.</p> + +<p>It was sunset now, and the clouds gathered so rapidly about the sun, +that he sank empalled in purple to his watery bed, leaving no trace +behind to mark his faded splendor.</p> + +<p>A sudden breeze sprang up, infinitely refreshing at first to soul and +sense, and again the thunder lumbered and crashed about us. The billows +heaved and leaped like steeds just freed from harness, tossing their +white manes; the raft shuddered and reeled with a deadly, sickly motion, +like a creature in strong throes, plunging with frantic suddenness into +the troughs of the waves at one moment, as if impelled by fear, then +rallying to their summits, only to cast itself wildly down again.</p> + +<p>All was confusion, dire and terrible. Then burst the storm upon +us—rain, wind!</p> + +<p>I was conscious of clutching, with one hand, a rope which strained and +swayed desperately, while with the other I grasped the affrighted baby +to my breast.</p> + +<p>Ada Greene and the old negro woman clung together, hanging to the same +cord of safety, flung to them, to all of us, by the hand of Christian +Garth.</p> + +<p>The barrels strained and groaned, and broke from their fastenings; the +awning was wrenched from its mooring, and swept away; the bitter brine +broke over us and choked our cries; the anguish of death was upon us +without its submission. We struggled instinctively to breathe, to live; +we grappled desperately with circumstances; we fought against our doom.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the sea dropped to rest—the storm was spent; a low, sighing, +soughing gale swept around our nucleus of despair, and the surging of +the sea was like a bitter funeral-wail. The air grew cold and chill; one +vast, pall-like cloud enveloped the whole face of the unpitying +heavens, that seemed literally "to press down upon our very faces like a +roof of black marble."</p> + +<p>No moon, no stars, were visible; we had no light of any kind, nor could +we ascertain the damage done until the cold, gray morning broke in gloom +and rain upon us. Then it was made plain to us that our food had all +been swept overboard—together with six seamen and five of the +passengers. There remained on the raft only three shuddering women and a +little child—and a handful of weary and discouraged men, sustained and +led to a sense of duty by the dauntless master-spirit of one alone—the +presence of Christian Garth, indomitable through all hardships. So it +had fared with us for six-and-thirty hours of our experience on "our +floating grave."</p> + +<p>We had been washed from our little platform, which ordinarily lifted us +above the lapping of the sea during the prevalence of the storm—and we +regained it now, glad to repose even on the sea-soaked mattresses bereft +of awning. By the mercy of God some glutinous sea-zoophytes had been +tangled among them, and by the help of the brine-soaked biscuit in my +pocket (crammed there, it may be remembered, as a precious hoard for a +time of dire necessity, on the morning of the fire, by the small, +cunning fingers of the sickly child), we breakfasted, or rather broke +our fast—we four, the child, the negress, Ada Greene, and I—and life +was aroused again in every breast by means of a briny morsel.</p> + +<p>"A cup of coffee would not be amiss just now," said the girl, laughing, +"but the Lord knows we can wait."</p> + +<p>There was a strange, bright light in the eyes of the young girl as she +spoke these words, and she was arraying her hair coquettishly with some +bunches of sea-weed, which had been cast up by the storm, and from which +the eager, famishing lips of the little boy had been permitted to suck +the gluten before discarding the skeleton stems.</p> + +<p>That hair was in itself a grace and glory—rippling from crown to waist +in sheeny, golden splendor, fine as silk, and glossy as the yellow floss +threads of pale, ripe Indian-corn—beautiful, even in its dishevelled +and drenched condition, as an artist's dream. Devoid as it was of +regular beauty, the face beneath, with its clear blue eyes, red lips, +and pure complexion, the pink and white that reminds one of a sweet-pea +or ocean-shell, had struck me as very lovely from the first; nothing to +support this groundwork of excellence had I discovered, however, either +in the form of the head, which was ignoble, or the expression of the +face, which was both timid and defiant, or the tones of the voice, which +were shrill and harsh by turns—yet, as my fellow-voyager and sufferer, +I was interested in this young creature, not forgetting, either, her +attention during my pending swoon, of which mention has been made.</p> + +<p>"I am going to the party, whatever the preacher may say, and whether +Captain Ambrose wills it or no. I am under his care and protection, you +see, to go to New York to my aunt, Madame Du Vert, the famous milliner, +and I am to learn her trade. Her name is Greene, so they call her Du +Vert, to make out that she is French—<i>vert</i> is <i>green</i>, in French, you +see; or so they tell me. Now, Captain Ambrose is a church-member, too, +and he does not want dancing on his ship, and so he made the calkers +pitch the deck—that was to break up the ball, you know; but don't tell +any one this for the 'land's sake,'" drawing near to me and whispering +strangely, with her forefinger raised—"or all those proud Southern +people would pitch into me—pitch, you understand?" and she laughed +merrily—"their white satin slippers and all!"</p> + +<p>"You must not talk so, Ada;" and I took her hand, which was burning.</p> + +<p>"Why not? Who are you, to prevent me? I am as good as you any day—or +Miss Lamarque either, or any of those haughty ones—though my father was +a negro-trader. Well, whose business was that but God's? If He don't +care, who need care?—An't I right, old mammy?" appealing to the ancient +negress, who had suspended her croon to listen.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed—that you is, honey; right to upholden your own dad—nebber +min' what he did to serbe the debble. But you looks mighty strange, +chile, outen your eyes. Wat dat you sees ober dar—is it a ship, +gal?—or must we—" and her voice sank to a mutter—"must we fall back +on dis picaninny, to keep from starvation?—"</p> + +<p>I understood her dreadful suggestion even before the words fully left +her cannibal lips, exposing her yellow fangs; from the glance of her +cruel eye in the direction of the child, and the working of her long, +crooked talons, rather than fingers, writhed like knotted serpents; I +understood them with an instinct that made me clutch him closely to my +breast, and narrowly watch his enemy from that hour until the time when +my brain failed and my eyes closed in unconsciousness, and with the +determination to plunge with him into the sea rather than devote him to +such a fate or yield to such an alternative as this wretch in human form +had more than hinted—even should the animal instinct, underlying every +nature, presume to dictate to reason at the last!</p> + +<p>We could but die—that was the very worst that Fate had in store for +us—<i>but</i> die in the body! How infinitely worse that the soul should +perish through the selfish sensuousness of cannibalism, which would +degrade life itself below dissolution, even if preserved by such means!</p> + +<p>"I am ready now to go to Captain Ambrose for assistance," said Ada +Greene, poising herself before me, and having surrendered or forgotten +her first idea, evidently, in the new mania of the moment. "Of course, +he does not intend to leave us here to perish, and he is in the next +cabin—but a step; see how easily I can get to him, and I shall be back +before you can say 'Presto!'"</p> + +<p>As nimbly as a sea-gull runs upon the sand, the young creature flew +across the now level raft toward the sea, but a strong hand clutched her +as she was about to step overboard, and compelled her back to her place +on the platform, where, bound with cords, she lay raving, until sleep or +unconsciousness mercifully supervened to spare me the spectacle of her +agony, which no human power could alleviate.</p> + +<p>Hours passed before this "consummation devoutly to be wished" took +effect, and, at the end of that time, my reeling brain, my fainting +energies, warned me that I, too, was probably approaching some dreadful +crisis. With a view to the refreshment its waters could possibly afford +my head, I crept quietly from the platform on which the old negro woman +held enforced guard over the insensible form of Ada Greene, and, still +clasping the poor helpless one, so mysteriously thrust upon my tender +mercies, to my bosom, I gained the edge of the raft, unnoticed by +Christian Garth, who might otherwise have apprehended me in turn, and +borne me back to my allotted precincts, and hung above the ocean, so as +to suffer its cooling spray to fall unceasingly across my burning +forehead.</p> + +<p>From some instinctive prompting I had lashed the poor, frail baby to my +girdle with the scarf of knotted silk I wore about my neck, and, wan +and exhausted, he lay upon my shoulder tranquilly as any Indian papoose +might do on its mother's breast. A branch of sea-weed floated past as I +looked down—some gracious mermaid's gift, perhaps, extended by her +invisible fingers to greet our famishing lips—and I caught it eagerly, +dividing the welcome nutriment with the perishing child, now patient +from weakness and instinctive consciousness, perhaps, of the entire +uselessness of cries and tears.</p> + +<p>Whether the weed was a sort of ocean-hasheesh, or wholesome aliment, I +never knew, but certain it is that, from the moment its juices passed my +lips, a strange and delightful quietude stole over my weary senses, fast +lapsing, as these had seemed, into, unconsciousness when I left my place +to seek the ocean's brink.</p> + +<p>The rays of the declining sun seemed for a moment centred on one spot, +immediately before my impending face, supported as this was on one hand, +and my sight followed their lance-like rays to the very floor of ocean!</p> + +<p>As the waters of the Red Sea divided for the passage of Moses and the +Israelites, so seemed these to part for my mental eyes, sundered as they +were by a golden sword of infinite splendor.</p> + +<p>That power which neither pain nor peril can subdue had possession of me +now, and, above all, the bitter circumstances that surrounded me, and, +in the face of danger and of death, imagination asserted her supremacy. +My dream was not of passing ship or harbor gained, or rich repast, or +festival, or clustered grapes and sparkling wines, like other sufferers +from shipwreck, fevered with famine, frenzied with despair; but hasheesh +or opium never bestowed so fair, so strange a vision as that which, in +my extremity, was mercifully accorded to me.</p> + +<p>My eyes pursued the sea-shaft to its base, as a telescope conducts the +mortal gaze to revel in the stars. Merman and mermaid, nereid and +triton, were there, rejoicing in the sunbeams thus poured upon them +through this subtle conduit of ocean, as do the motes of summer in her +rays; but soon these disappeared, a motley crowd, confused and joyous, +leaving the vision free to pierce the depths, glowing with golden light, +in search of still greater marvels.</p> + +<p>Then I saw outspread before me the streets, the fanes, the towers, the +dwellings, of a vast, deserted city, one of those, I could not doubt, +that had existed before the flood, and which had lain submerged for +thousands of centuries; the fretwork of the coral-insect was over all +(that worker against time, so slow, so certain), in one monotonous web +of solid snow.</p> + +<p>Statues of colossal size, and arches of Titanic strength and power, +adorned the portals, the pass-ways, the temples of this metropolis of +ocean, guarded as were these last by the effigies of griffin and dragon, +and winged elephant and lion, and stately mastodon and monstrous +ichthyosaurus, all white as gleaming spar.</p> + +<p>Gods and demi-gods of gigantic proportions and majestic aspect were +carved on the external walls of the windowless abodes and fanes; and, +from the yawning portal of one of these, a temple vast as Dendera's +self, came forth, fold after fold, even as I seemed to gaze, the +monstrous sea-serpent of which mariners dream, more huge, more loathly, +than fancy or experience ever yet portrayed him. I still behold in +memory the stately, fearful head, with its eyes of emerald fire and +sweeping, sea-green mane, as it reared its neck for a moment as if to +scale the ladder the sunbeams had thrown down when first emerging from +its temple-cavern; and, later, the mottled, monstrous body, as coil +after coil was gradually unwound, until it seemed at last to lie in all +its loathsome length for roods along the silent, shell-paved +streets—the scaly monarch, of that scene of human desolation!</p> + +<p>I recall the feeling of security that upheld me to look and to observe +every motion of the reptile of my dream.</p> + +<p>"He cannot come to me here," I thought. "The ark is sacred, and God's +hand is over it; besides, I hear the singing of the priests, and the +dove is about to be cast forth! Will the raven never come back? Oh, the +sweet olive-branch! It falls so lightly! We are nearing the mountain +now, and we shall soon cast anchor!"</p> + +<p>Then, among choral chants of joy and thanksgiving, I seemed to sleep. +How long this slumber lasted, or whether it came at all, I never knew. +It is a loving and tender thing in our Creator to decree to us this +curtain of unconsciousness when nerve and strength would otherwise give +way beneath the intensity of suffering—a holy and gentle thing for +which we are not half thankful enough in our estimate of blessings.</p> + +<p>My sleep, or swoon, shielded me from long hours of agony, mental and +physical, that must have become unendurable ere the close. As it was, I +knew no more after the sea-shaft closed with its wondrous and mysterious +revelations (which I yet recall with marveling and admiration, as we are +wont to do a pageant of the past), until aroused from lethargy by the +hand and voice of Christian Garth.</p> + +<p>It was night. I saw the glimmer of the moonlight on the seas, a +tranquil, balmy night; but some dark object was interposed between me +and the stars which, I knew, were shining above, and the raft lay +motionless upon the waters. I was aware, when my senses returned +temporarily, that the bow of a mighty vessel was projected above our +frail place of refuge, and that we were saved. The dove had come at +last!</p> + +<p>When or how we were lifted to the deck of the ship I knew not, for, +having partially revived, I soon drifted away again into profound +lethargy and entire unconsciousness, which for a time seemed death.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_V"></a><h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>A woman sat sewing near my berth in the state-room in which I found +myself; a fan, lying on a small table at her side, betokened in what +manner she had divided her attentions—between her needle and her +helpless charge. I thought; indeed, that I had felt its soft plumes +glide gently across my face in the very moment of my awakening in the +first amazement of which I but dimly comprehended the circumstances that +surrounded me.</p> + +<p>"What brought this stranger to my pillow! Who and what was she? Where +was I!" These were my mental queries at the first. Then, as the truth +gradually dawned over my sluggish and bewildered brain, I lay quietly +revolving matters, and noticed my self-constituted nurse, and my +surroundings, with the close yet careless observation of a child.</p> + +<p>The woman, on whom my gaze was earliest fixed (while her own seemed +riveted on the work upon her knee), was of middle age or beyond it, of +medium size, of square and sturdy make, and homely to the very verge of +ugliness. She was dressed plainly if not commonly in black, but there +was a general air of decency about her that seemed to place her beyond +the sphere of servitude. She wore spectacles set in tortoise-shell +frames, and she wore her iron-gray hair straight back behind small, +funnel-shaped ears, and gathered into the tightest knot behind. Her +head was flat and narrow at the summit, though broad at and above the +base of the brain. Her forehead, wide yet low, was ignoble in +expression. The mouth, shaped like a horseshoe, was curved down at the +corners, and was full of sullen resolution. The nose, pinched, yet not +pointed, showed scarcely any nostril, and might as well have been made +of wood, for any meaning it betrayed. Her eyebrows were short, wide, +rugged, and irregular, though very black; the cast-down eyes, of course, +so far inscrutable.</p> + +<p>She was shaping a flimsy, black-silk dress, and doing it deftly, though +it was a marvel to me how hands so stiff and cramped as hers appeared to +be could handle a needle at all.</p> + +<p>On one of these gnarled and unlovely fingers she wore a ring which, in +the idleness of the mood that possessed me, I examined listlessly. It +was an old-fashioned and slender circle of gold, so pale that it looked +silvery, such as in times long past had commonly been used either for +troth-plight or marriage-vows, surmounted by two small united hearts of +the same dull metal by way of ornament. Mrs. Austin, I remembered, +possessed one, the aversion of my childhood, that seemed its +counterpart.</p> + +<p>My weary eyes wandered from her at last, to take in the accessories of +my chamber, tiny as this was, and I saw that against the wall were +hanging a gentleman's greatcoat and hand-satchel. Cigars and books were +piled on the same table which held the spool and scissors of my +companion, and a pair of cloth slippers, embroidered with colored +chenilles and quilted lining, of masculine size and shape, reposed upon +the floor. A cane and umbrella were secured neatly in a small corner +rack. There were no traces, I saw, of feminine occupancy beyond the +transient implements of industry alluded to.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, in their languid, listless roving, my eyes encountered those +of my attendant fixed full upon me, while a smile distorted the homely, +sallow face, disclosing a set of yellow teeth, sound, short, and strong, +like regular grains of corn.</p> + +<p>In those eyes, in that mouth and saffron teeth, lay the whole power and +character of this repulsive and disagreeable physiognomy.</p> + +<p>Those feline orbs of mingled gray and green, with their small, pointed +pupils, were keen, vigilant, and observing beyond all eyes it had ever +before or since been my lot to encounter. After meeting their +penetrating glance I was not surprised to hear their possessor accost me +in clear, metallic tones, that seemed only the result of her gift of +insight, and consistent with it.</p> + +<p>"You are awake and yourself again, young lady, I am glad to see! You +have slept very quietly for the last few hours, and your fever is +wellnigh broken. Will you have some food now? You need it; you must be +weak."</p> + +<p>"Yes, very weak; but not hungry at all. I do not want to eat. Just let +me lie quietly awhile. It is such enjoyment."</p> + +<p>She complied silently and judiciously with my request.</p> + +<p>After a satisfactory pause, during which I had gradually collected my +ideas, I inquired, suddenly:</p> + +<p>"How long is it since we were lifted from the raft, and where are the +other survivors?"</p> + +<p>"All safe, I believe, and onboard, well cared for, like yourself. It has +been nearly two days since your raft was overhauled. This was what the +captain called it," and she smiled.</p> + +<p>"The baby—where is he? I hope he lived."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is at last out of danger, and we have obtained a nurse for him. +He would only trouble you now; but it is very natural you should be +anxious about him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he was my principal care on the raft, and I do not wish to lose +sight of him. When I am better, you must let him share my room until we +reach our friends."</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly!" and again she smiled her evil smile. "No one, so far as +I know of, has any right or wish to separate you; but, for the present, +you are better alone."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am strangely weak—confused, even," and I passed my hand over my +blistered face and dishevelled hair with something of the feeling of the +little woman in the story who doubted her own identity. Alas! there was +not even a familiar dog to bark and determine the vexed question, "Is +this I?"</p> + +<p>Helpless as an infant, flaccid as the sea-weed when taken from its +native element, feeble in mind from recent suffering, broken in body, I +was cast on the mercies of strangers, ignorant, until they saw me, of my +existence, yet not indifferent to it, as their care testified.</p> + +<p>"You will take some food now," said the woman, kindly, "Your weakness is +not unfavorable, since it proves the fierce fever broken; but you must +hasten to gather strength for what lies before you. We shall be in port +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>I put away the spoon with an impatient gesture. "I cannot; it nauseates +me but to see it, to think of it. Strength will come of itself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; that is impossible. Besides, the doctor has ordered panada, and +I am responsible to him for your safety. Come, now, be reasonable. This +is very nice, seasoned with madeira and nutmeg."</p> + +<p>Making a strong effort to overcome my repugnance, I received one +spoonful of the proffered aliment, then sank back on my pillow, soothed +and comforted, not more by the unexpectedly good effects of the +compound, than the associations it conjured up, of my sick childhood, of +Mrs. Austin, and of Dr. Pemberton.</p> + +<p>"Ah! you smile; that is a good sign," said the woman; "favorable every +way. We shall have no more delirium now, I hope; no more 'bears and +serpents' about the berth; no more calls for 'Bertie' and 'Captain +Wentworth,' and you will soon be able to tell us all about yourself and +your people—all we want to know."</p> + +<p>I must have lapsed again into reverie rather than slumber, from which I +was partly aroused by whispering voices at the door, one of which seemed +familiar to me. Yet this fact or fancy made little impression on me at +the moment, feeble and wretched as was my will, undiscriminating as were +my faculties.</p> + +<p>And when the door opened, and a lady entered, I did not seek to inquire +about her interlocutor. Respectfully rising from her seat beside me, my +companion left it vacant for her, to whom she introduced me as her +mistress, and stood, work in hand, sewing beneath the skylight, while +the new-comer remained in the state-room.</p> + +<p>A handsome woman, tall and fashionably attired, apparently between +thirty and forty years of age, square face, dark-eyed, rosy-cheeked, and +with curling hair, approached me with uplifted hands and eyebrows as I +lay gazing calmly upon her; for my food and slumber together had +strengthened and revived me wonderfully in the last few hours, and my +senses were again collected.</p> + +<p>"Awake, and herself again, as I live, even if we cannot say yet +truthfully 'clothed and in her right mind.'—Eh, Clayton?" with a +sneering simper; "and what eyes, what teeth, to be sure! Then the +dreadful redness is going away, though the skin will scale, of course; +but no matter for that; all the fairer in the end. And what a special +mercy that her hair is saved!—You have to thank <i>me</i> for that, young +lady. I would not let the ship's doctor touch a strand of it—not a +strand. 'One does not grow a yard and a half of hair in a month, or a +year, doctor,' I observed, 'and a woman might as well be dead at once, +or mad, or a man, as have cropped hair during all the days of her +youth.' I had a fellow-feeling, you see! I have magnificent hair myself, +child, as Clayton well knows, for it is her chief trouble on earth, and +I would almost as lief die as lose it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, Lady Anastasia's hair is one of her chief attractions," +observed the sympathizing Clayton, behind her chair.</p> + +<p>"So Sir Harry Raymond thought, my dear "—addressing me—"when I married +him, ten years ago; and so somebody else thinks just now, for I am tired +of my widowhood, and intend taking on the conjugal yoke again as soon as +I reach—"</p> + +<p>"New York," interpolated Mrs. Clayton, hastily and emphatically; +clearing her throat slightly, by way of apology, perhaps, for her +officiousness.</p> + +<p>"And you shall stand bridesmaid, my dear. Yes, I am determined on it; so +never make great eyes at me. There is a little bit of romance about me +that will strike out in spite of all my worldliness; and it will be so +pretty to have an 'ocean-waif for an attendant—it will read so well in +the papers! I suppose, when you reach your friends, there will be no +difficulty about a dress, and all that sort of thing, meet for the +occasion—a very splendid one, I assure you—conducted without regard +to expense; for my <i>fiancé</i> is very rich, I hear, and my own jointure +was a liberal one."</p> + +<p>"You do me a great honor," I murmured, conventionally rebelling inwardly +at the suggestion.</p> + +<p>"Oh, not at all!" was the gracious rejoinder. "I see at a glance, in +spite of your misfortunes, that you are one of us, which is not what I +say to everybody. True blood will show under all circumstances, though +there is such an improvement. Did any one ever see the like before? Why, +my dear, you were blistered and black when we picked you up, and +afterward sienna-colored; now you are almost a beauty!"</p> + +<p>"I am better—much better, and have a great deal to be thankful for, I +feel," I contented myself with murmuring.</p> + +<p>"Of course you have. It was just a chance with you between our ship and +death, you know. By-the-by, what name shall we give our +'treasure-trove?'"</p> + +<p>"Miriam for the present, if you please. This is no time nor place for +ceremony."</p> + +<p>"Well, Miriam it shall be," she repeated with laughing eyes (hers were +of that sort which close and grow Chinese under the pressure of +merriment and high cheekbones combined). "Miriam, I like the name—there +is something grand about it."</p> + +<p>"But how shall we know where to find your friends when we get to port?" +asked my first attendant. "We <i>must</i> know more than your Christian name +for such a purpose. You must place confidence in us, you must indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Be patient with me," I entreated. "I am much too feeble yet to give you +the details that may be necessary. When we reach New York, you shall +know every thing: or is it, indeed, to that place this ship is bound?"</p> + +<p>"I thought you knew all about your destination by this time," replied +Lady Anastasia Raymond. "Yes, yes, New York of course!" and again she +laughed. "Didn't you hear Clayton say so?"</p> + +<p>Just then a sharp tap at the door was answered by Lady Anastasia, who +went quickly from beneath the curtain hung across it (in consideration, +no doubt, of the privacy my illness enjoined), but not before I had +caught once, and this time clearly, the tones of a voice that thrilled +to my life, the same that had haunted my delirious fancy, I now +remembered, through the last four-and-twenty hours.</p> + +<p>I rose to my elbow impulsively, only to fall back again utterly +exhausted.</p> + +<p>"Who was that speaking?" I asked, feebly; "can it be possible—" and I +wrung my hands.</p> + +<p>"It was the ship's doctor," interrupted the woman I had heard called +Clayton by her mistress. "He had not time to do more than inquire about +you, I suppose, there are so many ill in the steerage; but he has been +very kind and will probably return."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," I rejoined; "I should like to realize that voice as <i>his</i>. +It has haunted me very disagreeably in my dreams, and the tones are +those of an old, old acquaintance, one I should be sorry to see here."</p> + +<p>"I do not believe you have an acquaintance on the ship," she said, +simply. "Under the circumstances any such person would certainly have +discovered himself; your situation would have moved a heart of stone."</p> + +<p>"But it is sometimes wise for the wicked to lie <i>perdu</i>," I murmured, +and conjecture was busy in my brain. "I should be glad, too, to see the +captain of this vessel at his earliest convenience," I added, after a +pause. "Will you be so good as to apprise him in person of my earnest +wish? It would be a real charity."</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly; but I am afraid he cannot come to-night. It is nearly +evening now, and he never leaves the deck at this hour, nor until very +late."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow, then, I must insist on this interview, since I reflect about +it, for several reasons."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow he shall come," she said, sententiously; "and now try and +sleep again. It is very necessary you should gather strength, for we +shall be in port shortly, when all will be confusion."</p> + +<p>I went to sleep, I remember, murmuring to myself: "The hands were the +hands of Jacob, but the voice was the voice of Esau;" and my bewildered +faculties found rest until the morning's dawn.</p> + +<p>After a hasty toilet made by the careful hands of Mrs. Clayton, a +matutinal visit made by Mrs. or Lady Raymond, who always rose early as +she informed me, and a cup of tea, very soothing to my prostrated +nerves, the potentate of the Latona was duly announced.</p> + +<p>Our ship's master was a tall, gaunt, sandy-haired man, with steady gray +eyes, hard features, and enormous hands and feet, the first freckled and +awkward, the last so long as very nearly to span the space between his +seat (a small Spanish-leather trunk) and the berth I reposed in. He +entered without his hat; and the swoop of the head he made to avoid the +entanglement of the curtain was supposed to do double duty, and serve as +a bow to the inmate of his state-room as well, for his I supposed it to +be at the time, and he did not contradict me.</p> + +<p>"I hope you find yourself comfortable, marm, on board of my ship."</p> + +<p>"And in your state-room, captain?" I interrupted promptly.</p> + +<p>"Wall, you see it all belongs to me, kinder," he said, after seating +himself, as he rubbed his huge, projecting knees, plainly indicated +through his nankeen trousers, with his capacious, horny hands. "I'm not +very particular, though, where I sleep on shipboard, but at home there's +few more so."</p> + +<p>"I thought a captain was more at home on shipboard than anywhere else," +I pursued mechanically; "such is the theory at least."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not at all, not at all; when he has a snug nest on land, with a +wife and children waiting to receive him. You might as well talk of a +man in the new settlements bein' more at home in his wagon than in his +neat, hewn-log cabin."</p> + +<p>"A very good simile, captain, and one that kills the ancient theory +outright. Let me thank you, however, before we proceed further, for all +the kindness and attention I have received in this floating castle of +yours, both from you and others. I hope and believe that my companions +in misfortune have fared as well."</p> + +<p>"Wall, they have not wanted for nothing as far as I knew—the poor baby +in particular;" and, as he spoke, he roughed his hair with one hand and +smiled into my face a huge, honest, gummy smile, inexpressibly +reassuring.</p> + +<p>"The man is hideous and repulsive," I thought; "but infinitely +preferable, somehow, to the specimen of English aristocracy and her maid +who have constituted themselves so far my guardian angels"—a twinge of +ingratitude here, which I resented instantly by settling my patriotic +prejudices to be at the root of the thing, and rebuking my mistrust +sternly though silently. "Yet that voice—how could I be mistaken?" and +again I addressed myself to the task before me, having gotten through +all preliminaries.</p> + +<p>While I sat hesitating as to what I should say, so as to both guard +against and conceal my suspicions from the captain's scrutiny, if, +indeed, he might be supposed to possess such a quality, I observed that +he drew from his pocket a long slip of newspaper, in which he appeared +to bury himself for a time, when not glancing furtively at me, as if +waiting impatiently for the coming revelation.</p> + +<p>"I have sent for you, Captain Van Dorne," I said, at last, in very low +and even tones, not calculated to reach outside ears, however vigilant, +and yet not suppressed by any means to whispers—"I have sent for you," +and my heart beat quickly as I spoke, "not merely to thank you for your +hospitable kindness, but because I wish, for reasons that I cannot now +explain, to place myself under your especial care until I reach my +friends."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, certainly; but you <i>air</i> among your friends already if you +could only think so," he answered, evasively, still caressing his potato +knees with large and outspread hands.</p> + +<p>"Do not for one moment deem me unmindful of much kindness, or ungrateful +to those who have bestowed it," I hastened to explain. "Yet I cannot +deny that a fear possesses me that among your passengers may be found +one whom I esteem, not without sufficient cause, my greatest enemy."</p> + +<p>"Poor thing! poor thing! what put such a strange fancy into your head? +An enemy in my ship! Why, there is not a man on board who would not cut +off his right hand rather than harm one hair of your poor, witless, +defenseless head! There was not a dry eye on the deck when you and the +rest wuz lifted from the raft!"</p> + +<p>"I understand this prevalence of sympathy for misfortune perfectly, and +honor it; yet I have heard a voice since my immurement in this cabin +which must belong"—and I whispered the dreaded name—"to Mr. Basil +Bainrothe!"</p> + +<p>As I spoke I eyed him steadily, and I fancied that his cheek flushed and +his eye wavered—that clear and honest eye which had given him a high +place in my consideration from the moment I met its' gaze.</p> + +<p>"You must have been delirious-like when you conceited you heerd that +strange voice," he said, presently.</p> + +<p>"I'll send you my passenger-list if you choose, and you can read it over +keerfully. I don't think you'll find <i>that</i> name, though, in its +kolyums," shaking his head sagaciously.</p> + +<p>"Captain Van Dome, do you mean to say there is no such passenger in your +ship's list as Basil Bainrothe?" I asked, desperately.</p> + +<p>"That's what I mean to say."</p> + +<p>"Give me your honor on this point. It is a vital one to me. Your honor!"</p> + +<p>He hesitated and looked around. Just at this moment of apparent +uncertainty, a slight tap was heard on the ground-glass eye above us +that threw a sullen and unwilling light upon the scene of our interview. +It seemed to nerve him strangely.</p> + +<p>"On my word of honor, as an American seaman, I assure you that the name +of Basil Bainrothe is not on the ship's list at this present speaking;" +and, as he spoke, he held up his right hand, adding, as he dropped it, +doggedly, "Ef the man's on board I don't know it!"</p> + +<p>"It is enough—I believe you, Captain Van Dorne. And now I want to ask +you, as a parting grace, to convey me yourself to the Astor House, and +place my watch" (detaching it from my neck as I spoke) "in the hands of +the proprietors as a proof of my honest intentions. For yourself, I +shall seek another opportunity."</p> + +<p>"Not at all—not at all!" he interrupted. "Keep your watch, young lady. +No such pledge will be required by them proprietors; and, as to myself, +if it had not been for this paper," drawing from his pocket, and +flattening on his knees as he spoke, the slip I had before observed, +then glancing at me sharply, "I could never have believed that such a +pretty-spoken, pretty-behaved young creetur could have been <i>non com</i>. +But pshaw! what am I talking about? This paper is as old as last year's +krout! You don't keer nothing about seeing of it, do you, now?" and he +crumpled it in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Not unless it concerns me in some way, Captain Van Dorne," I said, +coldly. His manner had suddenly become offensive to me, and I longed to +see him depart, having 'transacted my affairs, as far, at least, as I +deemed it prudent to insist on such transaction.</p> + +<p>"It may be," I added, "that, on reaching the port of New York, a friend +or friends who expected me on the Kosciusko may be in waiting to receive +me; that is, if the fate of that vessel be not already known. In that +case, I shall not be obliged to avail myself of your services, and will +acquaint you; but, otherwise, promise that you will conduct me from the +ship yourself, either to the hotel or to your wife, as you prefer."</p> + +<p>"Wall, I promise you," he said, doggedly, as he prepared literally to +undouble his long frame before executing another dive beneath my +door-guarding drapery, and with this brief assurance I was fain to rest +content.</p> + +<p>At all events, I was reassured on one subject—those honest eyes, that +frank if ugly mouth had no acquaintance with lies, or the father of +them, I saw at once; and the voice of the ship's doctor had for the +nonce deceived my practised ear, overstrung by suspicion—enfeebled by +suffering.</p> + +<p>So I rested calmly until the afternoon, with Mrs. Clayton sewing +silently by my side, when with a little tap Lady Anastasia (or Mrs. +Raymond, as she declared she preferred to be called by "Americans") +entered, bearing a basket in her hand, and wearing on her head a +Dunstable bonnet simply trimmed, which she came, she said, to place, +along with other articles of dress, at my disposal.</p> + +<p>It had not occurred to me before that, in order to go on shore +respectably clad, some attire very different from a bed-gown would be +essential, and I could but feel grateful for such proofs of unselfish +consideration on the part of strangers, pitying both my indigence and +imbecility, and so expressed myself.</p> + +<p>In accordance with their generous intentions, I submitted myself to be +arrayed by Mrs. Clayton and her mistress: first, in the flimsy +black-silk gown now completed, on which I had seen my attendant working +when I first unclosed my eyes after long unconsciousness, and the +measure which she had taken, while I lay in this condition, as coolly in +all probability as an undertaker measures a corpse for its shroud; +secondly, in a cardinal of the same material, a wrapping cut in the +shape in vogue at that period; thirdly, in certain loosely-fitting boots +and gloves with which I was fain to cover up my naked feet and blistered +hands <i>in forma pauperis</i> and, lastly, in the collarette and cuffs +provided by the economic and considerate Lady Anastasia, composed of +cotton lace! The Dunstable bonnet was hung upon a peg in readiness, and +I was kindly counseled to lie still, "accoutred as I was," and exhausted +by means of such accoutrement as I felt, until evening should find us +riding in our harbor.</p> + +<p>Then there was a little, low consulting at the door with the renowned +"ship's doctor," who positively refused to approach me because he had +just come from a case of ship-fever in the steerage, which he feared to +communicate to one in my precarious state, but who sent in his +imperative orders that I should have soup and sherry-cobbler forthwith, +and try and build up my strength for the time of debarkation—speaking +in a low, growling voice divested of its former clearness, but still +strangely resembling that of Basil Bainrothe!</p> + +<p>"The poor man is so fagged out," said Mrs. Clayton, as she brought in my +broth and wine, "that his very voice is changed. He is a good soul, and +has shown you great interest. Some day you must send him a present, that +is, if you are able; but just now all you have to think of is getting +safe ashore. Lady Anastasia will go to her friends, probably, or to +those of the gentleman she is engaged to; but I do not mean to forsake +you until I see you better, and in good hands."</p> + +<p>I know not how it was that my heart sank so strangely at this +announcement. The woman was kind—tender, even—and had probably saved +my life, and yet her presence to me was a punishment worse than pain, a +positive evil greater than any other.</p> + +<p>"I shall go to the Astor House," I faltered. "The captain has promised +me his escort thither."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I know, he has told me all about it; but your friends may not +be in waiting, and it is simply our duty to see you in their hands. And +now drink your sangaree. See, I have broken a biscuit in the glass, and +it is well seasoned with lemon and nutmeg. There, now, that is right; a +few spoonfuls of soup, and you will feel strengthened for your +undertaking. I will sit quietly in the corner until you have your rest."</p> + +<p>"No, I prefer to see Christian Garth before I try to sleep—the man who +steered our raft—and the young girl he saved, and the baby—let them +all come to me, and we will go on shore together."</p> + +<p>I spoke these words with a sort of desperation, as though they contained +my last hope of justice or protection from a fate which, however +obscurely, seemed to threaten me, as we feel the thunder-storm brooding +in the tranquil atmosphere of summer.</p> + +<p>"Christian Garth!" she repeated, looking at me over her tortoise-shell +spectacles, and, quietly drawing out a snuffbox of the same material, +she proceeded to fill her narrow nostrils therewith. "Why, that +shaggy-looking old sailor, and the girl, and the old negro woman and +child, went on shore at daylight this morning. He hailed a Jersey craft, +and they all left together. It is perfectly understood, though, that the +child is to be returned to you if you desire its company, but, if I were +situated as you are, and sure of its safety, I would never want to see +it again. It would be better off dead than living anyhow, under the +circumstances, poor, deformed creature—better for both of you."</p> + +<p>The words came to me distinctly, yet as if from an immense distance, and +I seemed to see the small chamber lengthening as if it had been a +telescope unfolding, and the sallow woman with her hateful smile and +tightly-knotted, brindled hair seated in diminished size and +distinctness at its farthest extremity.</p> + +<p>So had I felt on that fearful night when Evelyn had made her revelation +and received mine, and I did not doubt, even in my sinking state, that I +was under the influence of a powerful anodyne.</p> + +<p>"Call the ship's doctor—I am dying!" were the last words I remember to +have articulated; then all was dark, and hours went by, of deep, +unconscious sleep.</p> + +<p>It was night when I felt myself drawn to my feet, and roused to life by +the repeated applications of cold water to my face. "The anodyne was +over-powerful," I heard Mrs. Raymond say. "It is a shame to tamper with +such strong medicines."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she has strength for any thing!" was Clayton's rejoinder. "I never +saw such a constitution—and he knew what he was doing."</p> + +<p>"No doubt of that.—But, dear Miss Miriam, do speak to me. I am so +frightened at your lethargic condition.—I declare I am sorry I ever +consented to have any thing to do with this matter! See how she stands. +I cannot think it was right, Clayton, I cannot, indeed; I dislike the +whole drama."</p> + +<p>"Do be quiet! She is coming to herself fast, and what will she think of +such expressions? You never had any self-control in your life, and you +are playing for great stakes now." These last words in a hoarse whisper.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! mother."</p> + +<p>"Again! How often must I warn you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Clayton, then, now and forever."</p> + +<p>"Here! rouse up, little one! We are fast anchored in port, and the +captain is waiting for us, for we go part of the way together, and our +escorts have all failed us—yours and mine. Nice fellows, are they not?"</p> + +<p>I sat up and looked about me bewildered; yet I had heard distinctly +every word spoken in the last few minutes, and remembered them for +future observance, without having had the power to move or articulate a +remonstrance.</p> + +<p>"Now, drink this strong coffee, and all will be well again," said +Clayton, putting a cup of the smoking beverage to my lips, which I +swallowed eagerly, instinctively. The effect was instantaneous, and I +was able to speak and stand, as well as hear and comprehend, while my +bonnet was being tied on, and my throat muffled in a veil, by the +dexterous fingers of Lady Anastasia.</p> + +<p>When this process was completed, she stooped down and kissed me, and I +felt a hot tear fall upon my cheek as she rose again. In the next moment +I was clinging to the captain's arm, with a spasmodic feeling of relief +for which I could ill account. We passed across the plank which +connected the ship with the shore in utter darkness, guided by a +twinkling light far ahead, borne by a seaman, reached the dusky quay, +with its few flaring lamps, made dim by drizzling rain and summer mist, +and before many minutes we paused before one of a long line of coaches.</p> + +<p>The captain handed me in, then, standing before the open door, seemed to +await the coming of some other person before taking his own place—the +dreaded Clayton, I knew; but I could not remonstrate against what seemed +an ordinary courtesy, and perhaps a step suggested by his innate notions +of propriety.</p> + +<p>At any other time I might have agreed with him; but, feeble as I was, +and still bewildered, my whole object seemed to be to escape from the +sphere and power of those women, who had been most kind to me, yet whom +I instinctively dreaded and abhorred.</p> + +<p>They came together, the mother and daughter, in their travesty of +mistress and maid—enough of itself to excite suspicion of foul +play—and climbed up the rickety steps of the hackney-coach, rejoicing +over their victim. It mattered not; the captain would make the fourth +passenger, and in his shadow I felt there were strength and security.</p> + +<p>"What are you waiting for, Captain Van Dorne?" I had just feebly asked, +as the door snapped-to, and the driver mounted his box. A hand was +thrust through the window for all reply, and a card dropped upon my lap, +which I hastened to secure in the depths of my pocket. By the merest +chance, I found it there on the morrow, and later I comprehended its +import, so mysterious to me at the moment of perusal.</p> + +<p>"My poor young lady, you must forgive me for disappointing you, and +hidin' the truth, for your own sake. May God bless and restore you, and +bring you to a proper sense of his mercies, is the prayer of your +servant to command, JOSEPH VAN DORNE."</p> + +<p>My frame of mind was a very different one when I read this scrawl, from +that which bewildered and oppressed me on that never-to-be-forgotten +night of suffering and distress, both mental and physical. Formed of +those elements which readily react, courage and calmness had returned to +me before I read the oracle of our worthy shipmaster; for, in spite of +his disastrous dealing with me on that occasion, misguided as he was by +others, I have reason to so consider him.</p> + +<p>But now the influence of the drug that had been given me so recently, +doubtless through want of judgment, by the ship's doctor, was felt in +every nerve; and, as the carriage rolled up the stony quay, I clung +convulsively to Mrs. Raymond, and buried my face and aching forehead in +her shoulder, with a strange revulsion of feeling.</p> + +<p>"You dread the darkness," she said, kindly, putting her arm around me as +she spoke; "but it is only for a time; we shall soon come out into the +open lamp-light of—"</p> + +<p>"Broadway, New York," interrupted Clayton, sententiously; "a very poor +sight to see, to one who has lived abroad. Have you ever crossed the +waters, Miss Miriam? But I see you are quite faint and overcome. Here, +smell this ether, that the ship's doctor put up expressly for your use, +and recommended highly as a new restorative much in fashion in Paris."</p> + +<p>Had the ship's doctor no name, then, that they never mentioned it, and +that he spoke in a demon's voice? His doses I had proved, and was +resolved to take no more of them, and I pushed away the phial, whose +cold glass nose was thrust obtrusively against my own—pushed it away +with all my strength, fast ebbing away as this was, even as I made the +effort.</p> + +<p>The cruel potion had possession of me, and entered into every fibre of +my brain through the avenues prepared for it by the treacherous anodyne; +so that, enervated and intoxicated, I yielded passively, after a brief +struggle, to the power of the then newly-invented sedative, called +chloroform.</p> + +<p>When the carriage stopped, or whither it transported me, or who lifted +my insensible form to the chamber prepared for me, I know not—never +knew. There was a faint reviving, I remember; a process of disrobing +gone through by the aid of foreign assistance (whose, I recognized +not), then I slumbered profoundly and securely through the entire night, +to recover no clearness of perception until a late hour on the following +morning.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_VI"></a><h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>I awoke, as I had done of old, after one of my lethargic seizures, from +a deep, unrefreshing slumber, with a lingering sense about me of +drowsiness and even fatigue.</p> + +<p>I found myself lying on a broad, canopied bedstead, the massive posts of +which were of wrought rosewood, bare of draperies, as became the season, +save at the head-board, behind which a heavy curtain was dropped of +rose-colored damask satin.</p> + +<p>Of the same rich material were composed the tester and the +lightly-quilted coverlet, thrown across the foot of the bed, over a fine +white Marseilles counterpane.</p> + +<p>The chimney immediately opposite to me, as I lay, was of black marble, +and, instead of graceful Greek <i>caryatides</i>, bandaged mummies, or +Egyptian figures, supported the heavy shelf that surmounted the polished +grate. In the centre of this massive mantel-slab was placed a huge +bronze clock, and candelabra of the same material graced its corners.</p> + +<p>In either recess of this chimney rosewood doors were situated, one of +which stood invitingly ajar, disclosing the bath-room, into which it +opened, with its accessories of white marble.</p> + +<p>The other, firmly closed, seemed to be the outlet of the chamber—its +only one—with the exception of the four large Venetian windows, two on +either side of me as I lay, the sashes of which, warm as the season was, +were drawn closely down.</p> + +<p>The furniture of this spacious chamber to which, as if by the touch of a +magician's wand, I found myself transported, was throughout solid and of +elegant forms, consisting as it did of <i>armoire</i>, toilet-table, +bookcase, <i>étagère</i>, writing and flower stands, tables and chairs, of +the richest rosewood.</p> + +<p>At the foot of my bed was placed a console, supporting a huge Bible and +Prayer-book, bound alike in purple velvet, emblazoned with central suns +of gold—an arch-hypocrisy that was not lost on its object. +Freshly-gathered flowers were heaped in the vases of the floral stands, +filling the close, cool room with an overpowering fragrance. The carpet +of crimson and white seemed to the eye what it afterward proved to the +foot—thick, soft, and elastic; and harmonized well with the rich, +antique, and consistent furniture.</p> + +<p>The sort of microscopic scrutiny that children manifest seemed mine—in +my unreasoning, half-convalescent state; and for a time I observed all +that I have described with a listless pleasure, difficult to analyze, a +sort of dreamy acceptance of my condition, the very memory of which +exasperated me, later, almost to self-contempt.</p> + +<p>A crimson cord hung at one side of my bed, continued from a bell-wire at +some distance, the tassel of which I touched lightly, and, at the very +first signal, Mrs. Clayton appeared through the hitherto only unopened +door, to know and do my bidding.</p> + +<p>The clock on the mantel-shelf struck nine as she stood beside me, and +made respectful inquiries concerning my wants and condition; +understanding which, she disappeared, to return a few minutes later, +followed by an ancient negress, bearing a silver waiter.</p> + +<p>I recognized in this sable assistant (or thought I recognized at a +glance) my companion in shipwreck; but, upon making known my +convictions, was met with a prompt denial by the sable dame herself, +who, shaking her head, gave me to understand, in a few broken words, +that she "no understood English—only Spanish tongue!"</p> + +<p>Her dress—handsome and Frenchified—her creole coiffure, and the long +gray locks that escaped from her crimson kerchief bound over her ears, +as well as her more refined deportment, did indeed seem to discredit my +first idea, which came at last (notwithstanding these discrepancies) to +be fixed, and proved one link in the long chain of duplicity I untangled +later.</p> + +<p>At the time, however, I gave it little thought, but partook with what +appetite I might of the choice and delicate repast provided for me, in +this truly princely hotel, whose fame I discovered had not been +over-trumpeted. On my previous visits to New York, the Astor House had +been unfinished, and had made in its completion a new era certainly in +the "tavern-life" of that inhospitable city of publicans. When the +delicious coffee and snowy bread, the eggs of milky freshness, the +golden butter, the savory rice-birds, the appetizing fish, had each and +all been merely tasted and dismissed, and the exquisite China, in which +the breakfast was served, duly marveled at as an unprecedented +extravagance on the part even of John Jacob Astor, Mrs. Clayton came to +me with kindly offers of assistance in the performance of my toilet, +still a matter of difficulty in my feeble hands.</p> + +<p>My long hair, yet tangled and clogged with sea-water, was to be at last +unbound and thoroughly combed, cleansed, and oiled, so that the black +and glossy braids, that had been my chief personal pride, might again be +wound about my head in the old classic fashion.</p> + +<p>Then came the bath, with its reviving, rehabilitating process, and +lastly I assumed with the docility of a baby or a pauper the clean and +fragrant linen and simple wrapper that had been mysteriously provided +for me by the Lady Anastasia again, I could not doubt.</p> + +<p>"All this must end to-day," I said, "when really clothed and in my right +mind." I requested writing-materials and more light to work by, and +composed myself to write to Dr. Pemberton (once again, I knew, in +Philadelphia), and request his assistance and protection in getting home +safely, and, if need be, in tracing Captain Wentworth.</p> + +<p>"I suppose Captain Van Dorne has been too busy to call," I observed, +carelessly, as I prepared to commence my letter, "and Mrs. Raymond too +happy, probably, in getting safe to shore and her lover, to think of +me."</p> + +<p>"They have both inquired for you," said Mrs. Clayton, as she arranged +pen, ink, and paper, before me, with her usual precision, while a grim, +sardonic smile lingered about her features; "several have called, but +none have been admitted."</p> + +<p>"Who have called, Mrs. Clayton? Give me the cards immediately. I must, +must know," I rejoined, eagerly, pausing with extended hand to receive +them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there were no cards, and such as want to see you can come again. +There, now! write away, and never trouble your mind about strange +people. Have you sufficient light?"</p> + +<p>And, as she spoke, she touched a cord which set at right angles with +the lower one the upper inside shutter of another window as she had +adjusted the first.</p> + +<p>I wrote, two hasty notes, one on further consideration to Captain +Wentworth himself, who might, after all, be at that very time in that +same hotel—"<i>Quien sabe</i>?" as Favraud used to say with his significant +shrug, which no Frenchman ever excelled or Spaniard equalled (albeit +they shrug severally).</p> + +<p>My spirits rose with every word I wrote, and, when I got up from my +chair after sealing and directing my letters, a new and subtle energy +seemed to have infused itself through my frame. "There, I have finished, +Mrs. Clayton," I said, putting aside the implements I had been using. +"Now go, if you please, and bring to me the proprietor of this hotel. I +will give him my letters myself, since I have other business to transact +with him," and I laid my watch and chain on the table before me, ready +for his hand, not having lost sight of my early resolution. "But, +stay—before you go, be good enough to open the lower shutters and throw +up the windows. Cool as the weather is in this climate, I stifle for +air, and this close atmosphere, laden with fragrance, grows oppressive. +Who sent these flowers, by-the-by, Mrs. Clayton? or do they belong to +the magnificence of this idealized hotel?" She made no reply to any +thing I had been saying.</p> + +<p>By this time, however, she had lowered the upper sashes of the windows +about a foot, and the fresh air of morning was pouring in, curling the +paper on the centre table and dispersing the noisome fragrance of the +flowers, in which I detected the morbid supremacy of the tuberose and +jasmine.</p> + +<p>"I want to see the streets, the people," I said, approaching one of the +windows; "this artistic light is not at all the thing I need. I have no +picture to paint, not even my own face;" and, finding her unmoved, I +undertook to do the requisite work myself.</p> + +<p>The sashes were shut away below by inside shutters, which resisted all +my efforts to stir them. After a moment's inspection, I perceived that +they were secured by iron screws of great strength and size; not, in +short, meant to be moved or opened at all. Again I essayed to shake them +convulsively one after the other—as you may sometimes see a tiger, made +desperate by confinement, grapple with the inexorable bars of his cage, +though certain of failure and defeat.</p> + +<p>Overpowered by a sudden dismay that took entire possession of me, I sank +into one of the deep <i>fauteuils</i> that extended its arms very opportunely +to receive me, and sat mutely for a moment, while anguish unutterable, +and conjecture too wild to be hazarded in speech, were surging through +my brain.</p> + +<p>"I am too weak, I suppose, to open these shutters," I said at last, +feebly. "Be good enough to do it for me, Mrs. Clayton, or cause it to be +done immediately."</p> + +<p>Was it not strange that up to this very moment no suspicion had clouded +my horizon since I woke in that sumptuous room?</p> + +<p>"I cannot transcend my orders by doing any thing of the kind," she said +quietly, yet resolutely, as she pursued her avocation, that of dusting +with a bunch of colored plumes the delicate ornaments of the <i>étagère</i> +carefully one by one.</p> + +<p>"Your authority! Who has dared to delegate to you what has no existence +as far as I am concerned?" I asked indignantly. "I will go instantly."</p> + +<p>"You cannot leave this chamber until you receive outside permission," +she interrupted, firmly planting herself at once between me and the door +through which I had seen her enter. "You must not think to pass through +my chamber, Miss Miriam. It is locked without, and there is no other +outlet."</p> + +<p>"Woman!" I said, grasping her feebly yet fiercely, by the arm. "Look at +me! Raise those feline eyes to mine, if you dare, and answer me +truthfully: What means this mockery? Why have you been forced on me at +all? Where is Captain Van Dorne? What becomes of his promises? What +house is this in which I find myself a prisoner? Speak!"</p> + +<p>"You can do nothing to make me angry," she rejoined, calmly. "I know +your condition, and pity and respect it, but I shall certainly fulfill +my part of this undertaking. Captain Van Dorne recognized you as Miss +Monfort by the description in the newspaper, as did my mistress, and for +your own welfare we determined to secure you and keep you safe until the +return of Mr. Bainrothe and your sisters from Europe. They will be here +shortly, and all you have to do is to be patient and behave as well as +you can until the time comes for your trial;" and she cast on me a +menacing look from her green and quivering pupils, indescribably feline.</p> + +<p>My trial! Great Heaven! did they mean to turn the tables, then, and +destroy me by anticipating my evidence? I staggered to a chair and again +sat down silent confounded. "Where am I, then?" I feebly asked at +length.</p> + +<p>"In the establishment of Dr. Englehart," she made answer, "a private +madhouse."</p> + +<p>"God of heaven! has it come to this?" I covered my eyes with my hands +and sobbed aloud, while tears of pride and passion rained hotly over my +cheeks. This outburst was of short duration. "I will give them no +advantage," I considered. "My violence might be perverted. There are +creatures too cold and crafty to conceive of such a thing as natural +emotion, and passion with them means insanity. Thank God, the very power +to feel bears with it the power of self-government, and is proof of +reason. I will be calm, and if my life endures put them thus to +shame."—"You say that I am in the asylum of Dr. Englehart?" I asked +after a pause, during which she had not ceased to dust the furniture and +arrange the bed in its pristine order, speckless, with lace-trimmings, +pillow-cases smooth as glass, and sheets of lawn, and counterpane of +snow. "If so, call my physician hither; I, his patient, have surely a +right to his prompt services."—"It is just possible," I thought, "that +interest or compassion may, one or both, still enlist him in my cause—I +can but try."</p> + +<p>A slight embarrassment was evidenced in her countenance as I made this +request. It vanished speedily.</p> + +<p>"He is absent just at this time," she answered, quickly. "When he +returns I will make known your wish to him, if, indeed, he does not call +of his own accord."</p> + +<p>"Be done with this shallow farce," I exclaimed, harshly. "It shames +humanity. Acknowledge yourself at once the faithful agent of a tyrant +and felon, or a pair of them, and I shall respect you more. Confess that +it was the voice of Basil Bainrothe I heard at my cabin-door, and that +Captain Van Dorne was imposed upon by that specious scoundrel, even to +the point of being conscientiously compelled to falsehood.</p> + +<p>"I deny nothing—I acknowledge nothing," she said, deliberately. "You +and your friends can settle this between yourselves when they arrive. +Until then, you need not seek to tamper with me—it will be useless; and +I hope you are too much of a lady to be insulting to a person who has +no choice but to do her duty."</p> + +<p>She could not more effectually have silenced me, nor more utterly have +crushed my hopes. Yet again I approached her with entreaties.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will not refuse to mail my notes, even under these trying +circumstances,"! said, extending them to her.</p> + +<p>"You can ask Dr. Englehart to do so when he comes," she answered, +gently; "for myself, I am utterly powerless to serve you beyond the +walls of this chamber."</p> + +<p>"And how long is this close immurement to continue?" I asked again, +after another dreary pause. "Am I not permitted to breathe the external +air—to exercise? Is my health to be unconsidered?"</p> + +<p>"I know nothing more than I have told you," she replied. "I am directed +to furnish you with every means of comfort—with books, flowers, +clothing, musical instrument, even, if you desire it; but, for the +present, you will not leave these walls, and you will see no society. +The doctor has decided that this is best."</p> + +<p>"And whence did he derive his authority?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was all arranged between him and Mr. Bainrothe, your guardeen" +(for thus she pronounced this word, ever hateful to me), "long ago; +before he went to France, I suppose. Captain Van Dorne had nothing to do +but hand you over."</p> + +<p>"Captain Van Dorne! To think those honest eyes could so deceive me!" and +I shook my head wofully.</p> + +<p>When I looked up again from reverie, Mrs. Clayton had settled herself to +work with a basket of stockings on her knees, which she appeared to be +assorting assiduously.</p> + +<p>There she sat, spectacles on nose, thimble on twisted finger, ivory-egg +in hand, in active preparation for that work, woman's <i>par excellence</i>, +that alone rivals Penelope's. Surely that assortment of yellow, +ill-mated, half-worn, and holey hose, was a treasure to her, that no +gold could have replaced, in our dreary solitude (none the less dreary +for being so luxurious). I envied her almost the power she seemed to +have to merge her mind in things like these; and saw, for the first time +in my life, what advantages might lie in being commonplace.</p> + +<p>It was now nearly the end of July. My birthday occurred in the middle of +September. I thought I knew that, as soon as possible after my majority, +Mr. Bainrothe's conditions would be laid before me.</p> + +<p>I could not, dared not, believe that my captivity would be lengthened +beyond that time. I resolved that I would condone the past, and go forth +penniless, if this were exacted in exchange for liberty at the end of a +month and a half from this time.</p> + +<p>Six weeks to wait! Were they not, in the fullness of their power, to +crush and baffle me? Six weary years! For, during all this time, I felt +that the unexplained mystery that weighed upon my life would gather in +force and inflexibility. Death would have seemed to have set its seal +upon it, in the estimation of Captain Wentworth, as of all others. He +would never know that the sea, which swallowed up the Kosciusko, had +spared the woman he loved, nor receive the explanation that she alone +could give him, of the mystery he deplored.</p> + +<p>Before I emerged from my prison, he might be gone to the antipodes, for +aught I knew, and a barrier of eternal silence and absence be interposed +between us. So worked my fate! These reflections continued to haunt and +oppress me, by night and day, and life itself seemed a bitter burden in +that interval of rebellious agony, and in that terrible seclusion, where +luxury itself became an additional engine of torture.</p> + +<p>Days passed, alternately of leaden apathy and bitter gloom, varied by +irrepressible paroxysms of despair. Whenever I found myself alone, even +for a few moments, I paced my room and wept aloud, or prayed +passionately. There were times when I felt that my Creator heard and +pitied me; others when I persuaded myself his ear was closed inexorably +against me.</p> + +<p>I suffered fearfully—this could not last. The accusation brought +against me by my enemies seemed almost ready to be realized, when my +body magnanimously assumed the penalty the soul was perhaps about to +pay, and drifted off to fever.</p> + +<p>Then, for the first time, came the man I had until then believed a myth, +and sat beside me in the shadow, and administered to me small, mystic +pellets, that he assured me, in low, husky whispers, and foreign accent, +would infallibly cure my malady—my physical one, at least; as for the +mind, its forces, he regretted to add, were beyond such influence!</p> + +<p>For a moment, the wild suspicion intruded on my fevered brain that this +leech was no other than Basil Bainrothe himself, disguised for his own +dark purposes; but the tall, square, high-shouldered form that rose +before me to depart (taller, by half a head, than the man I suspected of +this fresh deception), and the angular movements and large extremities +of Dr. Englehart, dispelled this delusion forever. After all, might he +not be honest, even if a tool of Bainrothe's?</p> + +<p>I took the sugared miniature pills—the novel medicine he had left for +me—faithfully, through ministry of Mrs. Clayton's, and was benefited +by them; and, when he came again, as before, in the twilight, I was able +to be installed in the great cushioned chair he had sent up for me, and +to bear the light of a shaded lamp in one corner of the large apartment.</p> + +<p>Dr. Englehart approached me deferentially, and, without divesting +himself of the light-kid gloves which fitted his large hands so closely, +he clasped my wrist with his finger and thumb, and seemed to count my +pulses.</p> + +<p>"Ver much bettair," was his first remark, made in that disagreeable, +harsh, and husky voice of his, while he bent so near me that the aroma +of the tobacco he had been smoking caused me to cough and turn aside.</p> + +<p>Still, I could not see his face, for the immense bushy whiskers he wore, +nor his eyes, for the glasses that covered them, nor his teeth, even, +for the long, fierce mustache that swept his lips; and when, after a +brief visit, he rose and was gone again, there remained only in my mind +the image of a huge and hairy horror—a sort of bear of the Blue +Mountains, from the return of which or whom I fervently hoped to be +delivered.</p> + +<p>"Send him word I am better, Mrs. Clayton," I entreated; "I cannot see +him again, he is so repulsive; and, if you have a woman's heart in your +breast, never leave me alone with him, or with Mr. Bainrothe, when he +calls, for one moment—they inspire me equally with terror, +indescribable," and I covered my face to hide its burning blushes.</p> + +<p>"Look up, Miss Monfort, and listen to me," said Mrs. Clayton, at last, +regarding me keenly, with her warped forefinger uplifted in her usual +admonitory fashion, but with an expression on her face of interest and +sympathy such as I had never witnessed there before. "A new light has +broken just now upon my understanding; I can't tell how or whence it +came, but here it is," pressing her hand to her brow; "I believe you +have been misrepresented to me—but that is neither here nor there. I +shall watch you closely and faithfully until we part—all the more that +I do not believe you any more crazy than I am; I half suspected this +before, but I know it now." She paused, then continued: "I should have +to tell you my life's secret if I were to explain to you why Mr. +Bainrothe's interests are so dear to me, so vital even, and I will not +conceal from you that I knew your guardeen's good name depends on your +confinement here until you come of age. After that it will only be +necessary for you to sign a few papers, and all will be straight +again—no harm or insult is designed. To these I would never have lent +myself in any way—ill as you think of me. And as long as we continue +together I will guard your good name as I would do that of my own dear +daughter—that is, if I had one. You shall receive no visitor alone."</p> + +<p>She spoke with a feeling and dignity of which I had scarcely believed +her capable, shrewd and sensible as I knew her to be, and far above the +woman she called her mistress, in a certain <i>retenu</i> of manner and +delicacy of deportment, usually inseparable from good-breeding.</p> + +<p>I could not then guess how acceptable, to her and the person she was +chiefly interested in, were these signs of my aversion for Basil +Bainrothe, and what sure means they were of access to the only tender +spot in the obdurate heart of Rachel Clayton.</p> + +<p>Certain it is that, from these expressions, I derived the first +consolation that had come to me in my immurement, and from that hour the +solemn farce of keeper and lunatic ceased to be played between us two.</p> + +<p>From such freedom of communication on my jailer's part, I began to hope +for additional information, which never came. It was in vain that I +conjured her to tell me where my prison was situated, whether at the +edge of the city, or far away in the country, or to suffer me to have a +glimpse from a window of my vicinity. To all such entreaties she was +pitiless, and I was left to that vague and vain conjecture which so +wears the intellect.</p> + +<p>In the absence of all possibility of escape, it became a morbid and +haunting wish with me to know my exact locality. That it could be no +great distance from the city of New York, if not within its limits, I +felt assured, from the expedition with which my transit from the ship +had been effected.</p> + +<p>During the first three weeks of my confinement the deep silence that +prevailed about me had led me to adopt the opinion that I was the +occupant of a <i>maison de santé</i>. I had once driven past one on Staten +Island, where a friend of my father's—about whose condition he came to +inquire personally—had been immured for years. I did not alight with +him when he left the carriage to make these inquiries, but I perfectly +remembered the old gray stone building, with its ancient elms, and the +impression of gloom and awe it had left on my mind. But this idea was +presently dispelled.</p> + +<p>I was awakened one morning, in the fourth week of my sojourn in +captivity, by the sound of chimes long familiar to my ear, the duplicate +of which I had not supposed to be in existence. At first I feared it was +some mirage of the ear, so to speak, instead of eye, that reflected back +that fairy melody, which had rung its accompaniment to my whole +childhood and youth; but, when, after the lapse of seven days, it was +repeated, I became convinced that its reality was unquestionable, and +that neither impatience nor indignation had so impaired my senses as to +reproduce those sounds through the medium of a fevered imagination.</p> + +<p>Were these delicious bells, a recent addition to the cupola of our grim +asylum, bestowed by some benevolent hand that sought to mark and lend +enchantment to the holy Sabbath-day—even for the sake of the +irresponsible ones within its walls—or was I indeed—? But of this +there could be no question—I dared not hazard such conjecture lest it +drive me mad in reality—I must not!</p> + +<p>I groped in thick darkness, and time itself was only measured now by +those sweet chimes, so like our own, and yet so far away. My very clock +one morning was found to have stopped, and was not again repaired or set +in motion. Papers I never saw, had never seen since I came to dwell in +shadow, save that single one so ostentatiously spread before me, +announcing the loss of the Kosciusko and her passengers—a refinement of +cruelty, on the part of those who sent it, worthy of a Japanese.</p> + +<p>Rafts had been launched and lost, the survivors stated (the men who had +seized the long-boat, to the exclusion of the women and children); the +sea had swallowed all the remainder. A later statement might refute the +first, but even then none could know the truth with regard to my +identity, for would not Basil Bainrothe control the publication as he +pleased, and make me dead if he listed—dead even after the rescue?</p> + +<p>Yet Hope would sometimes whisper in her daring moods: "All this shall +pass away, and be as it had not been. Be of good heart, Miriam, and do +not let them kill you; live for Mabel—live for Wentworth!"</p> + +<p>Then, with bowed head, and silent, streaming tears, my soul would climb +in prayer to the footstool of the Most High, and the grace, which had +never come to me before, fell over me like a mantle in this sad +extremity.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_VIa"></a><h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Unfaltering in her respectful demeanor toward me was Mrs. Clayton from +the time of the little scene I have recently described. What new and +sudden light had broken in upon her I never knew, but I supposed at the +time that the flash of conviction had gone home to her mind with regard +to the baseness of Bainrothe and the iniquity of his proceedings, +founded on the fear I had expressed of his solitary presence, and the +insight she had gained into my character.</p> + +<p>Watching none the less strictly, she gradually relaxed that personal +surveillance that is ever so intolerable to the proud and +delicate-minded, and those suggestions that, however well intended, had +been so irritating to me from such a source. She no longer urged me to +read, or sew, or eat, or take exercise; but, retiring into her own work +(whence she could observe me at her pleasure, for her door was always +set wide open, and her face turned in my direction), she employed or +feigned to employ herself in her inexhaustible stocking-basket or +scollop-work, either one the last resource of idiocy, as it seemed to +me.</p> + +<p>Left thus to myself in some degree, I unclosed the leaves of the +bookcase, and surveyed its grim array of "classics"—all new and +unmarked by any name, or sign of having been read—and from them I +selected a few worthies, through whose pages I delved drearily and +industriously, and most unprofitably it must be confessed. The only +living sensations I received from the contents of that bookcase were, I +am ashamed to acknowledge, from a few odd volumes of memoirs, and +collections of travels that I had happened to find stowed away behind +the others. The rest seemed sermons from the stars.</p> + +<p>Captain Cook's voyages and Le Vaillant's descriptions did stir me very +slightly with their strong reality, and make me for a few hours forget +myself and my captivity; but all the rest prated at me like parrots, +from stately, pragmatical Johnson down to sentimental, maudlin Sterne.</p> + +<p>I found them intolerable in the mood in which I was, nothing so +exhausting as the abstract! and closed the book desperately to resume my +diary, neglected since the awful events of Beauseincourt, but always to +me a resource in time of trouble and of solitude. Of pens, ink, paper, +there was no lack, and I wrote one day, Penelope-wise, what I destroyed +the next. Yet this very "jotting down" impressed upon my brain the few +incidents of my prison-house recorded here, that might otherwise have +faded from my memory in the twilight of monotony.</p> + +<p>I had no need to sew. Fair linen and a sufficiency of other plain +wearing-apparel, including summer gowns, I found laid carefully in my +drawers, and the Creole negress brought in my clothes well ironed and +carefully mended, to be laid away by the orderly hands of Mrs. Clayton.</p> + +<p>Once, during the temporary illness of this dragon (whose bed or lair was +placed absolutely across the door of egress from her closet, so as to +block the way or make it difficult of access), the Creole, in an +unavoidable contingency like this, came with a pile of clothing in her +arms to lay the pieces herself in the bureau, by direction of my jailer, +and thus revealed herself.</p> + +<p>By the merest accident I had found in the lining of my purse two pieces +of gold (the rest of my money had been spirited away with the belt that +contained it, or the leather had been destroyed by the action of the +saltwater), and one of these I hastened to bestow on the attendant, +signifying silence by a gesture as I did so.</p> + +<p>I knew this wretch to be wholly selfish and mercenary, from my +experience of her on the raft—for that she was the same negress I had +long ceased to doubt—and I determined, while I had an opportunity of +doing so, to enter a wedge of confidence between us in the only possible +way.</p> + +<p>"Sabra," I whispered, "what became of the young girl, Ada Lee, and the +deformed child? It surely can do no harm to tell me this, and I know you +understand me perfectly."</p> + +<p>"No, honey, sartinly not; 'sides, I is tired out of speakin' Spanish," +in low, mumbling accents. "Well, den, dat young gal gone to 'tend on +Mrs. Raymond, and, as fur de chile, dey pays me to take kear of dat in +dis very house ware you is disposed of. Dat boy gits me a heap of +trouble and onrest of nights, dough, I tells you, honey; but I is well +paid, and dey all has der reasons for letting him stay here, I +spec'"—shaking her head sagaciously—"dough dey may be disappinted yit, +when de time comes to testify and swar! De biggest price will carry de +day den, chile; I tells you all," eying the gold held closely in her +palm.</p> + +<p>I caught eagerly at the idea of the child's presence, though the rest +was Greek to my comprehension until long afterward, when, in untangling +a chain of iniquity difficult to match, it formed one important but +additional link.</p> + +<p>"Poor little Ernie! I would give so much to see him," I said. "Ask Dr. +Englehart to let him come to see me, Sabra, and some day I will reward +you"—all this in the faintest whisper. "But Mrs. Raymond—where is she? +Does she never come here? I desire earnestly to speak with her. Can't +you let her know this? Try, Sabra, for humanity's sake."</p> + +<p>At this juncture the head of Mrs. Clayton was thrust forth from its +shell, turtle-wise, and appeared peering at the door-cheek.</p> + +<p>"You have been there long enough to make these clothes instead of +putting them away, old woman," was the sharp rebuke that startled the +pretended Dinah to a condition of bustling agitation, and induced her to +shut up one of her own shrivelled hands in closing the drawer, with a +force that made her cry aloud, and, when released, wring it with agony, +that drew some words in the vernacular. "What makes you suppose Miss +Monfort wants to hear your chattering, old magpie that you are?" +continued Mrs. Clayton, throwing off her mask. "Now walk very straight, +or the police shall have you next time you steal from a companion. +Remember who rescued you on the Latona, and on what conditions, and take +care how you conduct yourself in the future. Do you understand me?"</p> + +<p>After this tirade, which sorely exhausted her, Mrs. Clayton relapsed +into silence; and now it was my time to speak and even scold. I said:</p> + +<p>"Now that the Spanish farce is thrown aside, it is hard indeed that I +cannot even be allowed to exchange a few words with a laundress in my +solitary condition—hard that I should be pressed to the wall in this +fiendish fashion. This woman was telling me of the presence of a little +child in the house, and I have desired permission to see it by way of +diversion and occupation. I have asked her to apply to Dr. Englehart."</p> + +<p>"The child shall come to you, Miss Monfort, whenever you wish," said +Mrs. Clayton, with ill-disguised eagerness. "This woman is not the +proper person to apply to, however, and it is natural you should feel +concerned about it, now that you are able to think and feel again. You +know, of course, it is the boy of the wreck."</p> + +<p>"Yes, very natural. Its mother died in my arms, if I am not mistaken in +the identity of the child; and fortunately—" I paused here, arrested by +some strange instinct of prudence, and decided not to show further +interest in his fate.</p> + +<p>He might be inquired for, and traced even, I reflected, and thus my own +existence be brought to light. Selfishly, as well as charitably, would I +cherish him. Little children had ever been a passion with me, but this +poor, repulsive thing was the "<i>dernier ressort</i> of desolation."</p> + +<p>That very evening I heard the husky and guttural voice of Dr. Englehart +in the adjoining chamber, or rather in the closet of Mrs. Clayton, a +mere anteroom originally, as it seemed, to the large apartment I +occupied.</p> + +<p>It was very natural that in her ill condition my dragon should seek +medical aid, and I paid no further attention to the propinquity of this +unpleasant visitor than I could help—sitting quietly by my shaded lamp, +absorbed in the Psalter, in which I found nightly refuge.</p> + +<p>He came in at last, after tapping very lightly on the door-panel, +unsolicited and unexpected, to my presence—the same inscrutable, +hirsute horror I had seen before, with his trudging, scraping walk, his +square and stalwart frame, his gloved extremities, his light, +blue-glasses, hat and cane in hand, a being as I felt to chill one's +very marrow.</p> + +<p>"Is it true vat I hear," he asked, pausing at some distance, "dat you +vant to have dat leetle hompback chilt for a companion, Miss Monfort?"</p> + +<p>"It is true, Dr. Englehart."</p> + +<p>"And vat can your motif be? Heh? I must study dat for a leetle before I +can decide de question, or even trost him as a human being in your +hands."</p> + +<p>"Lunatics are rarely governed by motives at all," I replied, "only +impulses. I want human companionship, however, that is all. I sicken in +this solitude—I am dying of mental inanition."</p> + +<p>"It is true, you look delicate indeed, I am pained to see." The accent +was forgotten here for a moment, and an expression of real sympathy was +perceivable in his low, husky voice. "Command me in any way dat accords +wid my duty," he continued, "yes! de boy shall come! To interest, to +amuse you, is perhaps—to cure!"</p> + +<p>"Thank you; I shall await his advent anxiously; be careful not to +disappoint me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not for vorlds!"</p> + +<p>"You are very kind; I believe, though, that is all we have to say to one +another, Dr. Englehart."</p> + +<p>"You are bettair, then?" he said, advancing steadily toward me in spite +of this dismissal. "You need no more leetle pill? Are you quite sure of +dat?"</p> + +<p>"Not now, at least, Dr. Englehart."</p> + +<p>"Permit me, then, to feel your pulse vonce more. I shall determine den +more perfectly dis vexing subject of your sanity."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; I decline your opinion on a matter so little open to +difference. Be good enough to retire. Dr. Englehart. Let me at least +breathe freely in the solitude to which I am consigned."</p> + +<p>"I mean no offence, yonge lady," he said, meekly, falling back to the +centre-table on which was burning my shaded astral lamp—for I had left +it as he approached, instinctively to seek the protection of an +interposing chair, on the back of which I stood leaning as I spoke.</p> + +<p>He, too, remained standing, with one hand pressed firmly backward on the +top of the table, in front of which he poised himself, gesticulating +earnestly yet respectfully.</p> + +<p>His position was an error of mistaken confidence in his own make-up, +such as we see occur every day among those even long habituated to +disguise.</p> + +<p>As he stood I distinctly saw a line of light traced between his cheek +and one of his bushy side-whiskers.</p> + +<p>That line of light let in a flood of evidence. The man was an impostor, +a tool, as criminal as his employer—not the footprint on the sand was +more suggestive to Robinson Crusoe than that luminous streak to me, nor +the cause of wilder conjecture.</p> + +<p>Yet I betrayed nothing of my amazement I am convinced, for, after +standing silently for a time and almost in a suppliant attitude before +me, Dr. Englehart departed, and for many days I saw him not again.</p> + +<p>An object that looked not unlike a small, solemn owl, stood in the +middle of the floor, regarding me silently when I awoke very early on +the following morning.</p> + +<p>At a glance I recognized poor little Ernie, and singularly enough, he +knew and remembered me at once.</p> + +<p>"Ernie good boy now," he said as he came toward me with his tiny claw +extended. "Lady got cake in pocket, give Ernie some?" Not only did he +recall me, it was plain, but the incident that saved his life, and the +rebukes he had received on the raft for his refusal to partake of briny +biscuit, which no persuasion, it may be remembered, had availed to make +him taste—even when devoured by the pangs of hunger. I tried in vain, +however, to recall him to some remembrance of his poor mother. On that +point he was invulnerable; the abstract had no charm for him or meaning. +He dealt only in realities and presences.</p> + +<p>A new element was infused into my solitude from this time. In this child +I lived, breathed, and had my being, until later events startled my +individuality once more into its old currents of existence. Not that I +merged myself entirely in Ernie, sickly, wayward, fitful, ugly little +mite that he was undeniably. Nay, rather did I draw him forcibly into my +own sphere of being and find nutrition in this novel element.</p> + +<p>So grudgingly had Nature fulfilled her obligations in the case of this +poor stunted infant, that, at two and a half years of age, he had not +the usual complement of teeth due a child of eighteen months, and was +suffering sorely from the pointing up of tardy stomach-teeth through +ulcerated gums.</p> + +<p>To attend to and heal his bodily ailments occupied me entirely at first, +and finally, finding him ill cared for, I made him a little pallet on my +sofa and kept him with me by night and day. Surely such devotion as he +manifested in return for my scant kindness to him few mothers have +received from their offspring. To sit silently at my feet while I talked +to him, or do my bidding, seemed his chief pleasures, as they might not, +could not have been, had he been strong, and active, and more soundly +constituted. As it was, no more loyal creature existed, nor did the +Creator ever enshrine deeper affections or quicker perceptions in any +childish frame. Weird, and wise, and witty as Aesop was this child, like +him deformed; and to draw out his quaint remarks, read him fresh from +his Maker's hand—this warped, and tiny, imperfect volume of +humanity—was to me an ever-new puzzle and delight. Severity he had been +used to of late, I saw plainly. He shrank with winking eyes from an +uplifted hand, even if the gesture were one of mere amazement, or +affection, and sat patiently, like a little well-trained dog, when he +saw food placed before me, until invited to partake thereof. His manner +was wistful and deprecating even to pathos, and I longed for one burst +of passion, one evidence of self-will, to prove to myself that I, like +others he had been recently thrown with, was not the meanest of all +created creatures—a baby's despot!</p> + +<p>Oh, better than this the cap and bells, and infant tyranny forever, and +the wildest freaks of baby folly. He suffered silently, as I have seen +no other child do, uncomplainingly even, and at such times would sink +into moods of the blackest gloom, like those of an old, gouty subject. +Hypochondria, baby as he was, seemed already to have fixed his fangs +upon him. He had days of profound melancholy, when nothing provoked a +smile, and others of bitter, silent fretting, inconceivably distressing; +again there were periods of the wildest joy, only restrained by that +reticence which had become habitual, from positive boisterousness.</p> + +<p>All this I could have compelled into subservience, of course, by +substituting fear for affection. It is not a difficult matter for the +strong and cunning to cow and crush the spirit of a little child; no +great achievement, after all, nor proof of power, though many boast of +it as such. Strength and hardness of heart are all one requires for +this external victory; but human souls are not to be so governed (God be +praised for this!), and love and respect are not to be compelled.</p> + +<p>It is the error of all errors to suppose that, because a child has a +sickly frame or imperfect animal organization, it is just or profitable +to give it over to its own devices, and consign it to indolence and +ignorance. Alas! the vacancy that begets fretfulness, and crude, +capricious desires, the confusion of images that arises from partial +understanding, are far more wearing to the nerves of an intelligent +infant than the small labor the brain undertakes, if any, indeed, be +needed, in mastering ideas properly presented, and suitable to the +condition of the sufferer. One might as well forbid the hand to grasp, +the eye to see, nay, more, it will not do to confound the child of +genius with the fool, or to suppose that the one needs not a mental +aliment of which the other is incapable. Feed well the hungry mind, lest +it perish of inanition. It is a sponge in infancy that imbibes ideas +without an effort; it is a safety-valve through which fancy and poetry +conduct away foul vapors; it is an alembic, retaining only the pure and +valuable of all that is poured into it, to be stored for future use. It +is a lightning-rod that conducts away from the body all superfluous +electricity. It does not harm a sensible child to put it to study early, +but it destroys a dull one. Let your poor soil lie fallow, but harvest +your rich mould, and you shall be repaid, without harm to its fertility.</p> + +<p>Ideas were balm to Ernie, even as regarded his physical suffering. His +enthusiasm rose above it and carried him to other spheres.</p> + +<p>Some illustrated volumes of "Wilson's Ornithology," which I found in +the bookcase, proved to be oil on troubled waters in Ernie's case; and +before long he knew, without an effort, the name of every bird in the +two folios of prints, and would come of his own accord to repeat and +point them out to me.</p> + +<p>I found, to my amazement, that, when a cage of canaries was brought in +and hung in the bath-room at my request for his amusement, he +discriminated and gravely averred that no birds like those were to be +found in his big book, though yellow hammers and orioles were there in +their native colors, that might have deceived a less observant eye into +a delusion as to their identity with our pretty importation.</p> + +<p>Verses, remarkable for rhyme and rhythm both, when repeated to him a few +times with scanning emphasis, took root in that fertile brain which +piled his compact forehead so powerfully above his piercing, deep-set +eyes, and fell from his infant lips in silvery melody as effortless and +spontaneous as the trickling of water or the singing of birds in the +trees.</p> + +<p>Day by day I saw the little, wistful face relaxing from the hard-knot +expression, so to speak, of sour and serious suffering, and assuming +something akin to baby joyousness, and the small, warped figure, so low +that it walked under my dropped and level hand, acquiring security of +step and erectness of bearing. I knew little of the treatment required +for spinal disease, but common-sense taught me that, in order to effect +a cure, the vertebral column must be relieved as much as possible from +pressure, and allowed to rest. So I persuaded him to lie down a great +part of the time, and contrived for him a little sustaining brace to +relieve him when he walked.</p> + +<p>I fed him carefully; I bathed him tenderly, and rubbed his weary, +aching limbs to rest, so that before many weeks the change was +surprising, and the success of my treatment evident to all who saw +him—the comprehensive "all" being myself and two attendants.</p> + +<p>Dr. Englehart had been suggested in the beginning by Mrs. Clayton, as +his medical attendant, but rejected by me with a shudder, that seemed +conclusive; yet one evening, unsummoned by me, and as far as I knew by +any other, he walked calmly into my apartment, ostensibly to see the +little invalid—his charge as well as mine.</p> + +<p>For a moment the extravagant idea possessed me that, in spite of +appearances, I had done this man injustice, and that he came in reality +for humane purposes alone; wore his disguise for these.</p> + +<p>This delusion was soon dissipated, as with audacity (no doubt +characteristic, though not before evidenced to me), he seated himself +complacently and uninvited, and, disposing of his hat and stick, settled +himself down for a <i>tête-à-tête</i>, an affair which, if medical, usually +partakes of the confidential.</p> + +<p>"Your little <i>protégé</i>, Miss Monfort," he said, huskily, "seems to be a +serious sufferer," and for a moment dropping his accent while he rubbed +his gloved hands together as with an ill-repressed self-gratification; +"come, tell me now what you are doing for his benefit," again +artistically assuming a foreign accentuation.</p> + +<p>In a few words I described my course of treatment and its success.</p> + +<p>"All very well," he responded, hoarsely, "as far as it goes; but I am +convinced that much severer treatment will be necessaire—"</p> + +<p>"I think not," I replied, curtly; "and certainly nothing of the kind +will be permitted by me while I have charge of this poor infant."</p> + +<p>"A few leetle pills, then, for both mother and child;" he suggested, +humbly.</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken if you imagine any relationship to exist between Ernie +and myself," I answered, calmly, never dreaming at the moment of covert +or intended insult. "I might as well inform you at once, that I am Miss, +not Mrs. Monfort; you should be guarded how you make mistakes of that +nature."</p> + +<p>And my eye flashed fire, I felt, for I now heard him chuckling low in +the shadow, in which he so carefully concealed himself.</p> + +<p>"I shall remembair vat you say," he observed, "and try to do bettair +next visit; but all dis time I delay in de execution of my mission here. +See, I have brought you von lettair; now vat will you do to reward me?"</p> + +<p>Holding it high above my head, in a manner meant, no doubt, to be +playful, and to suggest a game of snatch, perhaps, such as his peers +might have afforded him, he displayed his treasure to my longing eyes, +but I sat with folded arms.</p> + +<p>"If the letter brings me good news, I shall thank you warmly, Dr. +Englehart; if not, I shall try to believe you unconscious of its +contents."</p> + +<p>"Tanks from your lips would, indeed, seem priceless," he remarked, +courteously, as with many bows and shrugs he laid it on the table before +me, bringing his shaggy head by such means much closer to my hand than I +cared to know it should be, under any circumstances.</p> + +<p>With a gesture of inexpressible disgust, regretted the next moment, as I +reflected that, to bring me this letter, he might be overstepping common +rules, I raised the envelope to the light and recognized, to my intense +disappointment, the well-known characters of Bainrothe's—small, rigid, +neat, constrained.</p> + +<p>My heart, which a moment before had beat audibly to my own ear, sank +like a stone in my breast, and I sat for a time holding the letter +mutely, uncertain how to proceed. Should I return it unread, and thus +hurl the gauntlet in the traitor's face, or be governed by expedience +(word ever so despised by me of old), and trace the venom of the viper, +by his trail, back to his native den?</p> + +<p>After a brief conflict of feeling, I determined on the wiser +course—that of self-humiliation as a measure of profound policy.</p> + +<p>I broke the seal, the well-known "dove-and-vulture" effigy which he +called in heraldry "The quarry" and claimed as his rightful crest. Very +significantly, indeed, did it strike me now, though I had jested on the +subject so merrily of old with Evelyn and George Gaston.</p> + +<p>The letter was of very recent date, and ran as follows—I have the +original still, and this is an exact copy:</p> + +<p>"On September 1st, or as soon thereafter as feasible, I shall call to +see you, Miriam, in your retirement, which I am glad to hear has so far +been beneficial. Should I find you in a condition to <i>make</i> conditions, +I shall lay before you a very advantageous offer of marriage I had +received for you before your shipwreck. Should you accept this offer, +and attach your signature to a few papers that I shall bring with me +(papers important to the respectability of your whole family as well as +my own), I shall at once resign to you your father's house and the +guardianship of Mabel. The chimera that alarmed you to frenzy can have +no further existence, either in fact or fancy. I am about to contract an +advantageous marriage with a foreign lady of rank, wealth, and beauty, +to whom I hope soon to introduce you.. I need not mention her name, if +you are wise. Be patient and cheerful; cultivate your talents, and take +care of your good looks—no woman can afford to dispense with these, +however gifted; and you will soon find yourself as free as that +'chartered libertine' the air, for which last two words I am afraid you +will be malicious enough to substitute the name you will not find +appended, of your true friend and guardian, B.B."</p> + +<p>Had Wentworth spoken, then? Did he know of my immurement? Was it his +beloved presence, his dear hand, that were to be made the prize of my +silence and submission? Was the bitter pill of humiliation I was now +swallowing to be gilded thus? No, no—a thousand times, no! He was not +the man with whom to make such conditions—the man I loved—nay +worshiped almost. He was of the old heroic mould, that would have +preferred any certainty to suspense, and death itself to an instant's +degradation.</p> + +<p>He deemed me dead, and the obstacle that had risen between us needed no +explanation now. The waves had swallowed all necessities like this. But, +had he known me the inmate of a mad-house, no bolts or bars would have +withheld him from my presence. His own eyes could alone have convinced +him of such ruin as was alleged against me by these friends.</p> + +<p>From this survey of my utter helplessness I turned suddenly to confront +the deep, dark, salient eyes of the disciple of Hahnemann, real or +pretended, fixed upon me with a glance that even his blue spectacles +could not deprive of its subtle intensity.</p> + +<p>Where had I seen before orbs of the same snake-like peculiarity of +expression, or caught the outline of the profile which suddenly riveted +my gaze as the light partially revealed it, then subsided into shadow +again? I pondered this question for a moment while Dr. Englehart, +silent, expectant perhaps, stood with his hand tightly grasping the back +of a chair, on the seat of which he reposed one knee, in a position such +as defiant school-boys often assume before a pedagogue.</p> + +<p>As I have said, his head and body were again in shadow, as was, indeed, +most of the chamber, for the rays which struggled through the thick +ground glass of my astral lamp were as mild as moonbeams, and as +unsatisfactory. But the light fell strong and red beneath the shade, and +the full glare of the astral lamp seemed centred on that pudgy hand, in +its inevitable glove, that had fixed so firm a gripe on the back of the +mahogany chair as to strain open one of the fingers of the tight, tawny +kid-glove worn by Dr. Englehart. This had parted slightly just above the +knuckle of the front-finger, and revealed the cotton stuffing within. +Nay, more, the ruby ring with its peculiar device was thus exposed, +which graced the slender finger of the charlatan! I do not apply this +term as concerned the profession he affected at all, but merely (as +shall be seen later) as one appropriate to himself individually.</p> + +<p>There must be beings of all kinds to constitute a world, philosophers +tell us, and he, no doubt, so long in ignorance of it, had stumbled +suddenly on his proper vocation at last. The <i>rôle</i> he was playing (so +far successfully) had doubtless been the occasion of an exquisite +delight to him, unknown to simpler mortals, who masquerade not without +dread misgivings of detection. I for one, when affecting any costume not +essentially belonging to me, or covering my face even with a paper-mask +for holiday diversion, have had a feeling of unusual transparency and +obviousness, so to speak, which precluded on my part every thing like a +successful maintenance of the part I was attempting to play. It was as +if some mocking voice was saying: "This is Miriam Monfort, the true +Miriam; the person you have known before as such was only making +believe—but the Simon-pure is before you, a volume of folly that all +who run may read! Behold her—she was never half so evident before!"</p> + +<p>But to digress thus in the very moment of detection, of recognition, +seems irrelevant. The flash of conviction was as instantaneous in its +action in my mind as that of the lightning when it strikes its object. I +stood confounded, yet enlightened, all ablaze!—but the subject of this +discovery did not seem in the least to apprehend it, or to believe it +possible, in his mad, mole-like effrontery of self-sufficiency, that by +his own track he could be betrayed.</p> + +<p>"Vat ansair shall I bear to Mr. Bainrothe from his vard?" asked the +Mercury of my Jove, clasping his costumed hands together, then dropping +them meekly before him. "I vait de reply of Miss Monfort vid patience. +Dere is pen, and ink, and papair, I perceive, on dat table. Be good +enough to write at once your reply to de vise conditions of your +excellent guardian."</p> + +<p>"You know them, then?" I said, quickly, glancing at him with a derisive +scorn that did not escape his observation.</p> + +<p>"I have dat honnair," was the hypocritical reply, accompanied by a +profound bow.</p> + +<p>"Disgrace, rather," I substituted. "But you have your own stand-point of +view, of course. The shield that to you is white, to me is black as +Erebus. You remember the knights of fable?"</p> + +<p>"Always the same—always indomitable!" I heard him murmur, so low that +it was marvelous how the words reached my ear, tense as was every sense +with disdainful excitement. Yet he simply said aloud, after his +impulsive stage-whisper: "Excuse me! I understand not your allusions. I +pretend not to de classics; my leetle pills—" and he hesitated, or +affected to do so.</p> + +<p>"Enough—I waive all apologies; they only prolong an interview +singularly distasteful to me for many reasons. You are behind the +curtain, I cannot doubt, and understand not only the contents of that +absurd letter, but its unprincipled references. To Basil Bainrothe I +will never address one line; but you may say to him that I scorn him and +his conditions. Yet, helpless as I am, and in his hands, tell him to +bring his emancipation papers, and I will sign them, though they cost me +all I possess of property. My sister I will not surrender any longer to +his care, nor my right in her, which, with or without his consent, is +perfect when I reach my majority. As to the suitor to whom he alluded, +he had better be allowed to speak for himself when this transaction is +over. I shall then decide very calmly on his merits, tarnished, as these +might seem, from such recommendation."</p> + +<p>"He is one who has loved you long, lady," said the man, sadly, speaking +ever in that made and husky voice (wonderful actor that he was by +nature!), which he sustained so well that, had I not unmistakably +identified him, it might have imposed on my ear as real. "Hear what has +been written on this subject: When others have forsaken you and left you +to your fate, he has continued faithful to your memory. The revelation +of your immurement was made simultaneously to two men who called +themselves your lovers, and its sad necessity explained by your +ever-watchful guardian. One of these lovers repudiated your claims upon +him, and turned coldly from the idea of uniting his fate to that of one +who had even for an hour been a suspected lunatic; the other declared +himself willing to take her as she was to his arms, even though her own +were loaded with the chains of a mad-house! Penniless and abandoned by +all the world, and with a clouded name, he woos her as his wife—the +woman he adores!"</p> + +<p>And, as he read, or seemed to read, these words, with scarce an accent +to mar their impetuous flow, Dr. Englehart drew in his breath with the +hissing sound of passion, and folded his arms tightly across his padded +breast, as if they enfolded the bride he was suing for in another's +name.</p> + +<p>"And who, let me ask, is this Paladin of chivalry?" I inquired, +derisively. "Give me his name, that I may consider the subject well and +thoroughly before we meet at last."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me if I refuse to give the name of eider of dese gentlemen at +dis onhappy season," he rejoined. "Wen de brain is all right +again"—tapping his own forehead—"your guardian will conduct the +faithful knight to kneel at de feet of her he loves so well."</p> + +<p>"And the other—where is he?" fell involuntarily from my lips—my +heaving heart—an inquiry that I regretted as soon as it was uttered; +for, affecting sorrowful mystery, the man inclined himself toward me and +whispered in my ear confidentially:</p> + +<p>"Plighted to another, and gone where no eyes of yours shall rest on him +again."</p> + +<p>"Pander—liar—spy!" burst from my passionate lips as in all the fury of +desperation I turned from the creature who had so wantonly wounded my +self-respect, and waved to him to begone. Another name quivered on my +lips, but I checked it on their threshold after that first burst of +indignation instantly subdued.</p> + +<p>I was not brave enough nor strong enough to hazard a shaft like that +which might have been returned to me so deathfully. I would let the +barrier stand which he had erected between us, and which to demolish +would be to lay myself open, perhaps, to insult of the darkest +description.</p> + +<p>Let the ostrich with his head in the sand still imagine himself unseen; +the masquerader still conceive himself secure beneath his paper +travesty; the serpent still coil apparently unrecognized beside the +bare, gray stone that reveals him to the eye—I was too cowardly, too +feeble, to cope with strategy and double-dyed duplicity like this!</p> + +<p>So the man went his way with his silly secret undiscovered, as he +deemed, and that it might remain so to the end, as far as he could know, +I devoutly prayed. For I knew of old the unscrupulous lengths to which, +when nerved by hate or disappointment or passions of any kind, he could +go, without a particle of mercy for his victims or remorse for his +ill-doing.</p> + +<p>When Dr. Englehart was gone—for so I still choose to call him for some +reasons, although I give my reader credit for still more astuteness than +I possessed myself, and believe that he has long ago recognized, through +this cloud of mystery and travesty thrown about him, an old +acquaintance—the child Ernie rose from the bed on which he had lain +tremulous and observant, with his small hands clinched, his eyes on +fire. "Ernie kill bad man!" he exclaimed, ferociously, "for trouble +missy. Give Ernie letter—he carry it away and hide it; bad letter—make +poor Mirry cry."</p> + +<p>"No, Ernie, I will keep it," I said, as I laid it carefully aside. "It +shall stand as a sign and testimony of treachery to the end. Go to +sleep, little child; but first say your prayers, so that the good angels +may sit by you all night. Don't you hear Mrs. Clayton groaning? Poor +Clayton! I must go and comfort her and soothe her pains, as Dinah cannot +do. And, now that the bad doctor is gone home, and we are all locked up +again securely, we shall rest peacefully, I trust; and so, good-night!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_VII"></a><h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>From being the most silent of children, a perfect creep-mouse in every +way, Ernie had become fearfully loquacious under my care, and was now as +talkative as he had ever been observant.</p> + +<p>The action that most children develop through exercise of limb had been +reserved for his untiring tongue. He had literally learned to talk from +hearing me read aloud, which I did daily, much to Mrs. Clayton's delight +and edification, for the benefit of my own lungs, which suffered from +such confirmed silence, as I had at first indulged in. His exquisite +ear—his prodigious memory—aided him in the acquirement of words, and +even long and difficult sentences, of which he delivered himself +oracularly when engaged with his blocks and dominoes.</p> + +<p>He told himself wonderful stories in which the "buful faiwry" and +"hollible" giant of the story-books figured largely. I am almost ashamed +to acknowledge that I would hold my breath and strain my ear at times to +listen to these murmured stories, self-addressed, as I have never done +to receive the finest ebullitions of eloquence or the veriest marvels of +the <i>raconteur</i>. There was something so sweet, so wondrous to me in this +little, ever-babbling baby-brain fountain, content with its own music, +having no thought of auditors or effect, no care for appreciation, +totally self-addressed and self-absorbed, that I was never weary of +giving it my ear and interest. Had the child known of or perceived this, +the effect would have been destroyed, and a fatal self-consciousness +have been instituted instead of this lotus-eating infantile +<i>abandon</i>—the very existence of which mood indicated genius. What poor +Ernie's father might have been I could only surmise from his own +qualities, which, after all, may have flowed from a far-off source; but +that his mother had been gentle, simple, and inefficient, I knew full +well, from my slight acquaintance with her, and observation of her +non-resisting organization. Ernie, on the contrary, grappled with +obstacles uncomplainingly, and was only outspoken in his moments of +gratification. His was the temperament that is the noblest and the most +magnanimous in its very moulding. Whining children are selfish, as a +rule, and petty-minded, and most often incapable of enjoyment—which +last is a gift of itself that goes not always with possession.</p> + +<p>Among other accomplishments self-acquired, Ernie had the power of +mimicry to a singular degree. Mrs. Clayton had a slight hitch in her +gait of late from rheumatic suffering, which he simulated solemnly, +notwithstanding every effort on my part to restrain him.</p> + +<p>Without a smile or any effort of mirth, he would limp behind as she +walked across the floor, unconscious of his close attendance, and when +she would turn suddenly and detect him, and shake her clinched fist at +him, half in jest, he would retaliate by a similar gesture, and scowl, +and stamp of the foot, that so nearly resembled her own proceedings as +to cause me much internal merriment. But of course for his own +advantage, as well as from regard for her feelings, it was necessary for +me on such occasions to assume a gravity of deportment bordering on +displeasure.</p> + +<p>It may be supposed, then, that when, on the morning after Dr. +Englehart's visit, before my chamber had been swept and garnished, and +while Mrs. Clayton was busy in her own, Ernie brought me a letter and +laid it on the table before me, as Dr. Englehart had done the night +before in his presence, I was infinitely amused.</p> + +<p>What, then, was my surprise in stooping over it to find this letter +addressed to myself in the unfamiliar yet never-to-be-forgotten +character of Wardour Wentworth!</p> + +<p>After the first moment of bewilderment I opened the already-fastened +letter—closed, as was the fashion of the day, without envelope, and +sealed originally with wax, of which a few fragments still remained +alone.</p> + +<p>The date, the subject, the earnest contents, convinced me that I now +held the clew of that mystery which had baffled me so long, and that the +missing letter said to have been lost at Le Noir's Landing was at last +in my possession. It needed not this additional proof of treachery to +convince me that my suspicions had been correct, and that, next to the +arch-fiend. Bainrothe, I owed the greatest misery of my life to him who, +in his ill-adjusted disguise, had dropped this letter from his pocket on +the preceding evening—my evil genius, Dr. Englehart—<i>alias</i> Luke +Gregory.</p> + +<p>It was a gracious thing in God to permit me to owe the great happiness +of this discovery to the little crippled child he had cast upon my care +so mysteriously, and I failed not to render to him with other grateful +acknowledgments "most humble and hearty thanks" for this crowning grace. +Henceforth Hope should lend her torch to light my dearth—her wings to +bear me up—her anchor wherewith to moor my hark of life wherever cast, +and to the poor waif I cherished I owed this immeasurable good. Had Mrs. +Clayton anticipated him with her infallible besom—that housewifely +detective, that drags more secrets to light than ever did paid +policeman—I should never have grasped this talisman of love and hope, +never have waked up as I did wake up from that hour to the endurance +which immortalizes endeavor, and renders patience almost pleasurable.</p> + +<p>On the back of this well-worn letter was a pencil-scrawl, which, +although I read it last, I present first to my reader, that he may trace +link by link the chain of villainy that bound together my two +oppressors.</p> + +<p>It was in the small, clear calligraphy of Basil Bainrothe, before +described; characterized, I believe, as a back-hand—and thus it ran:</p> + +<p>"You are right—it was a master-stroke! Keep them in ignorance of each +other, and all will yet go well. I sail to-morrow, and have only time to +inclose this with a pencilled line. Try and head them at New York. My +first idea was the best—my reason I will explain later.</p> + +<p>"Yours truly, B.B.</p> + +<p>"N.B.—The man could not have played into our hands better than by +taking up such an impression. There is no one there to undeceive him."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_LETTER"></a><h2>THE LETTER.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"My Miriam: Your note, through the hands of Mr. Gregory, has been +received—read, noted, pondered over with pain and amazement. The avowal +of your name so uselessly withheld from me, lets in a whole flood of +light, blinding and dazzling, too, on a subject that fills me with +infinite solicitude.</p> + +<p>"There have been strange reserves between us that never ought to have +existed, on my part as well as yours. I should have told you that I once +had a half-sister, called Constance Glen—older than myself by many +years—who married during my long absence from our native land a +gentleman much older than herself, an Englishman by the name of Monfort, +and, after giving birth to a daughter, died suddenly. These particulars +I gathered from strangers, but there were many wanting which you can +best supply. I know that this gentleman had a daughter, or daughters, by +an earlier marriage—and I can find no clew to the date of my sister's +marriage—which might in itself determine the possible age of her own +daughter. That this child survived I have painful cause to remember. I +had sustained shipwreck, and was in abeyance for clothes and money both, +when it occurred to me to call on my brother-in-law, present to him my +credentials, and remain a few days at his house as his guest, in the +enjoyment of my sister's society, until my needs could be supplied from +certain resources at a distance. The reception I met with from his elder +daughter, and the information she haughtily gave me, determined my +course. I sought no more the inhospitable roof of Mr. Monfort, to find +shelter beneath which I had forfeited all claim by the death of my +sister, then first suddenly revealed to me. Her child, I was told, had +been recently injured by burning and could not be seen, even by so near +a relative, and the manner of the young lady, whom I now identify as +Evelyn Monfort, was such as to lead me at the time to believe this a +mere excuse or evasion, which I did not seek to oppose.</p> + +<p>"It is just possible that there may be a third sister, yet I think I +have heard you say you had but one, and this reminiscence is anguish to +my mind. Even more, the careless and unwarrantable allusions of Mr. +Gregory to certain scars, evidently from burns that he had the insolence +to observe on your neck and arms, and remark upon as mere foils to their +beauty, in my first acquaintance with you and before I had a right to +silence him, recurred to me as a partial confirmation of my fears. +Without explaining to him my motives, I questioned him on this subject +again soon after he handed me your note, a proceeding that I should have +shrunk from as gross and unworthy of a gentleman under any other +circumstances. I did not stop to think what impression my inquiries +would leave upon his mind, ever prone to levity and suspicion; but he +must have seen that I was deeply moved, and that no impertinent +curiosity could sway me to such a course with regard to the woman I +loved and had openly declared my plighted wife. You will understand all +this and make allowance for me. Write to me immediately, and relieve, if +possible, my intense solicitude. At all events, let me know the truth, +and look it in the face as soon as may be. Any reality is better than +suspense. Yet I must 'hope against hope,' or surrender wholly. I have +not time to write another line. My business is imperative, or I should +certainly retrace my steps.</p> + +<p>"Yours eternally, Wentworth."</p> + +<p>The man who wrote this letter was capable of condensing in a few calm +words a world of passion, whether he spoke or wrote them; but he had +governed his pen carefully in his agonizing uncertainty. It was yet to +be determined when he penned these lines whether he should be +considered a lover addressing his mistress, or an uncle writing to his +niece, and in this bitter perplexity he commanded his inclinations to +the side of principle.</p> + +<p>I wept with tears of joy and thankfulness above this constrained +epistle—I pressed it to my heart, my lips, a thousand times, in the +quiet hours of night, in the moments of retirement my jailer granted me. +The child Ernie alone saw and wondered at these manifestations of which +I first saw the extravagance through his solemn imitations thereof, +which yet made me catch him rapturously in my arms and kiss him a +thousand times, until he put me aside, at last, with decorous dignity, +as one transcending privilege.</p> + +<p>By some vicarious process, best understood by lovers, I lavished on +little Ernie a thousand terms of endearment, meant only for another, and +by the light of my own happiness he seemed transfigured. He was +identified with the lifting away of a burden more bitter than captivity +itself. They could but kill my body now—my soul was filled with a new +life that nothing could extinguish; and believing in Wentworth, I felt +that I could die happy, let death come when and how it would. I knew now +that in the course of time, whether I lived or died, Wentworth would +know that I was not his niece, and claim Mabel as his own, remembering +my estimate of those who held her in charge. Then would the tide of love +and passion, so long repressed, roll back in its old channel, and he +would leave no stone unturned, no path unexplored, whereby to trace my +fate.</p> + +<p>To this, as yet, he held no clew. The sea had seemed to swallow Miriam +Harz, by which name I had been registered in the ship's books and known +to the passengers; nor could it be surmised that the young "mad girl," +since spoken of, as I had been told, in the papers, as having been +restored to her friends by the accident of meeting the Latona, and +Miriam Monfort, were one and the same person. But if the time should +come when all should be explained, either by my own lips or the +revelations of others, good cause might Basil Bainrothe and his +confederate have to tremble!</p> + +<p>Like all cold, patient, deeply-feeling men, there were untold reserves +of power and passion in the nature of Wardour Wentworth which might, for +aught I knew to the contrary, tend naturally to and culminate in +revenge. The wish to retaliate was, I knew, a fundamental fault in my +own character, one I had often occasion to struggle with even in +childhood, when Evelyn, my despot, was also my dependant, and generosity +had been called to the aid of forbearance. Vengeance was a fierce thirst +in my Judaic heart which only Christian streams could ever allay or +quench, and I judged the man I loved by self—not always a fitting +standard of comparison.</p> + +<p>And Gregory! I could imagine well the fiendish delight with which he had +seen me day by day writhing uncomplainingly beneath the unexplained and +as I had deemed unsuspected alienation of Wentworth, the cause of which +his act had wrapped in mystery! Afraid to tamper with the note I gave +him for the cool, discerning eye of Wentworth, curiosity had at first +led him to break the seal of that intrusted to his care in return, and +dark malevolence to retain it rather than destroy, for the eye of his +confederate. That he had dispatched it at once for Paris was very +evident from the pencilling on the back of the letter; and that the +snare was set for me already, in which the accident of the encountered +raft proved an assistant, I could not doubt.</p> + +<p>I fell into the hands of Bainrothe on shipboard instead of into those +of Gregory in New York; this was the only difference, for subterfuge +could have done its work as well, if not as daringly, on land as on sea; +and the league of iniquity was made before I sailed from Savannah.</p> + +<p>How perfectly I could comprehend, for the first time since this +revelation, what Wentworth must have suffered beneath his burden of +unrelieved doubt and conjecture! I could see how, day by day, as no +answer came to change the current of his thoughts, conviction slowly +settled down like a cloud upon his heart, his reason; and what stern +confirmation of all he dreaded most, my silence must have seemed to him!</p> + +<p>All this I saw in my mental survey with pity, with concern, with wild +desire to fly to him, and whisper truth and consolation in his arms; for +I loved this man as it is given to passionate, earnest natures to love +but once, be it early or late; loved him as Eve loved Adam, when the +whole inhabited earth was given to those two alone.</p> + +<p>"You seem in very good spirits to-day, Miss Monfort," said Mrs. Clayton, +with unusual asperity on one occasion, when, holding Ernie in my arms, I +lavished endearments upon him; "your king, indeed! your angel! I really +believe you admire as well as love that hideous little elf."</p> + +<p>"Of course I do, Mrs. Clayton; all things I love are beautiful to me;" +and I remembered how Bertie's plain face had grown into touching +loveliness in my sight from the affection I bore her.</p> + +<p>"And do you really love this child?"</p> + +<p>"Most certainly, and very tenderly too; is he not my sweetest +consolation in this dreary life?"</p> + +<p>"What if they remove him?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! what, indeed!" and, relaxing my grasp, I clasped my hands together +patiently; that thought had occurred to me before.</p> + +<p>"It is a very strong affection to have sprung up from a short +acquaintance on a raft," she remarked, sententiously.</p> + +<p>"I saved his infant life, you know; and the benefactor always loves the +thing he benefits. It is on this principle alone God loves his erring +creatures, Mrs. Clayton, rest assured."</p> + +<p>"If you had loved the child with true friendship, you would have pushed +him into the sea, rather than have held him in your arms above it."</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose he is less near to God than you or I—to Christ the +all-merciful?" I questioned, sternly. "Much rather would I have that +infant's yet unconscious hope of heaven than either yours or mine, Mrs. +Clayton!"</p> + +<p>"But his earthly hope—it was that I alluded to; what chance for him? +Poor, weakly, deformed; he had better be at rest than knocked from +pillar to post, as he must be in this hard, cold world of chance and +change."</p> + +<p>"And that shall never be while I live, Ernie," I said, taking him again +in my lap, at his silent solicitation. "Why, Mrs. Clayton, with such a +noble soul, such intelligence as this child possesses, he may fill a +pulpit, and save erring souls, or write such beautiful poems and +romances as shall thrill the heart, or draw from an instrument sounds as +divine as De Beriot's, or paint a picture, and immortalize his name; +there is nothing too good, too great for Ernie to do, should God grant +him life to achieve; and, as surely as I am spared to be enfranchised, +shall I make this gifted child my charge."</p> + +<p>"You are perfectly infatuated, Miss Monfort; I declare, I shall begin +to believe—"</p> + +<p>"No, you shall not begin to believe any such, thing," I interrupted her, +smiling; "you are surely too sensible and just a woman to begin to +believe fallacies thus late in the day."</p> + +<p>"Have it your own way," she said, sharply; "you always get the better of +me at last."</p> + +<p>"Not always," I pursued, "or I should not be here, you know. It rests +with you to keep or let me go—"</p> + +<p>"To ruin my child's husband! There, now! you have my life-secret," she +said, with a desperate gesture; "use it as you will."</p> + +<p>I understood more than ever the hopelessness of my case from the moment +of that impulsive revelation, to which I made no answer.</p> + +<p>"What is more," she said, huskily, "I, too, am watched; I never knew +this until two days ago: a negro man, an attendant of the house, an old +servant of your guardian's, I believe, guards the doors below, and +refuses to let me pass to and fro. Dinah, even, is employed to dog my +steps. This is not exactly what I bargained for; yet, in spite of all, +on her account I shall be faithful to the end." And for a time she +busied herself in that careful dusting of the ornaments of the chamber, +which seemed mechanical, so habitual was it to her sense of order and +tidiness.</p> + +<p>Her hand was on the gold-emblazoned Bible, I remember, and her +party-colored bunch of plumes lifted above it, as if for immediate +action, when her arm fell heavily to her side, and she heaved a bitter +sigh, so deep, it sounded like a long-suppressed sob, rather, to my ear.</p> + +<p>"If I could only think you did not hate me, Miss Miriam," she said, "I +believe I could be better satisfied to lead the life I do."</p> + +<p>"Hate you! Why should I hate you, Mrs. Clayton? You are only a tool in +the hands of my persecutor, I know, from your own confession, and I +understand your motive better in the last few moments than I did before +(inadequate as it seems to my sense of justice), for aiding this +oppressor. You have been very kind to me in some respects; an inferior +person could have tortured in a thousand ways, where you have shown +yourself considerate, delicate even, and for all this I thank you more +than I can express. I should be very ungrateful, indeed, were I to hate +you. The word is strong."</p> + +<p>"Yet you prefer even that hump-backed child to me or my society," she +said, peevishly.</p> + +<p>"The comparison cannot be instituted with any propriety," I responded, +gravely, turning away and dismissing the boy to his blocks and books, as +I did so, which made for him, I knew, a fairy kingdom of delight, +through the aid of his splendid imagination.</p> + +<p>A commonplace infant will tire of the choicest toys; they are to such +minds but effigies and delusion, which last, the delight of imaginative +infancy, to the cut and dried, dull, childish understanding is +impossible.</p> + +<p>I once overheard one little girl at a theatre—a splendid spectacle, +calculated to dazzle and delight imaginative childhood—say to another: +"It is nothing but make-believe! That house and garden are only painted. +See how they shake! And the women are dressed in paste jewelry, like +that our cook-maid wears to parties, and no jeweler would give a cent +for them; and the fairies are poor girls, dressed up for the occasion; +and the whole play is made up as they go. You see, I know all about it, +father says."</p> + +<p>I heard no more, but had a glimpse of a little, eager face suddenly +dashed in its expression, and of small fingers pressed to unwilling ears +to shut out unwelcome truths.</p> + +<p>The discriminating child seemed a little monster in my eyes, who ought +to have been sent out of the way at once of all companions capable of +<i>abandon</i> and enjoyment; and, as to the "father" she quoted from, I +could imagine him as the embodiment of asinine wisdom, so to speak—the +quintessence of the practical, which so often, I observe, inclines its +devotees to idiocy!</p> + +<p>I knew very well that Wattie was not of the stamp to doubt the truth and +splendor of "Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp," or "Cinderella," as +surveyed from the stage-box, in his confiding infancy, any more than to +believing in baubles when the time came to justly discriminate. Woe for +the incredulous child, too matter-of-fact to be enlisted in the +creations of fancy, and who tastes in infancy the chief bitterness of +age—the incapability of surrendering life to the ideal!</p> + +<p>How fresh imagination keeps the heart—how young! What a glorious gift +it is when rightly used and governed! Hear Charlotte Bronté's testimony, +as recorded by her biographer: "They are all gone," she says, "the +sisters I so loved, and I have only my imagination left to comfort me. +But for this solace I should despair or perish." The words are not +exact—the book is not beside me, but such is their substance. He who +lists can seek them for himself in the pages of that wondrous spell +woven by Mrs. Gaskell—that tragic and strange biography which once in a +season of deep despondency did more to reconcile me to my own condition, +through my pity and admiration for another, than all the condolences +that came so freely from lip and pen. Every fabric that love had +erected crumbled about her or turned to Dead-Sea ashes on her lip. See +what a world of passion those French letters and themes of hers betray!</p> + +<p>The brand of suffering and suffocating sorrow is on every one of them, +plain to the eye of the initiated alone, they who have gazed on the +wonders of the inner temple—the holy of holies—and gone forth +reverently to dream of the revelation evermore in silence.</p> + +<p>But, above every ruin of hope, or pride, or affection, like an imperial +banner flung from "the outer wall," her imagination waved and triumphed. +"The clouds of glory" she trailed after her were dyed in spheres +unapproachable by death, or shame, or disappointment, and the gift +described in the Arabian story as conferred by the genii's salve when he +touched therewith the eyes of the traveler and caused him to see all the +wonders of the earth, its gems, its gold, its gleaming chrysolites, its +inward fires, unobscured by the interposition of dust and clay, which +veiled them from all the rest of humanity, may stand as a type of her +ideality.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_VIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The six weeks which had been allotted to me as the term of my captivity +were accomplished, and still Mr. Basil Bainrothe came not—wrote not. I +had seen the month of August glide away, its progress marked only by the +changing fruits and flowers of the season, and the more fervent light +that pierced through the Venetian blinds when turned heavenward, for it +was through these alone that the light of day was permitted to visit my +chamber.</p> + +<p>Where, then, was the place of my captivity situated? In the environs of +a great city, possibly, for the wind often blew, laden with fragrance as +from choice rather than extensive gardens, through my casement, and the +shadow of a tall tree impending over the skylight of the bath-room was, +when windy, cast so distinctly on its panes as to convince me of the +neighborhood of an English elm, the foliage of which tree I knew like an +alphabet.</p> + +<p>And then, those fairy, Sabbath chimes! Were such musical bells +duplicated in adjacent cities? or was I, indeed, near our old, beloved +church, in which memory so distinctly revealed our ancient, velvet-lined +pew, my father's bowed head, and the venerable pastor rising white-robed +and saintly in his pulpit to bid all the earth keep silent before the +Lord! Conjecture was rife! Thus August passed away.</p> + +<p>My birthday had gone by, and the equinox was upon us, with its rapid +changes of sun and storm, when one of these tempests, accompanied by +hail of unusual size, shattered to fragments the skylight of the +bath-room. This hail-storm was succeeded by a deluge of rain, which +flooded not only the adjacent closet, but the chamber I occupied, among +other evils completely submerging the superb Wilton carpet, concerning +the safety of which Mrs. Clayton felt immense responsibility.</p> + +<p>A glazier came as soon as the weather permitted, who was carefully +escorted through my chamber by Mrs. Clayton to ascertain the repairs to +be made—a fresh-looking, white-aproned Irish lad, I remember (for a +human being was a novelty to me then), who found it necessary, in order +to repaint the wood-work, to bear the sash away with him, leaving behind +his tray of chisels and putty, and the light step-ladder he had brought +with him on his shoulder, and on whose return I vainly waited as a +chance for communication with the outer world.</p> + +<p>While Dinah was busy with mops and brooms drying the carpet, and Mrs. +Clayton thoroughly occupied with her active superintendence of the +needful operations, little mischievous, meddlesome Ernie had made his +way, contrary to all rules, beneath and behind my bed, and torn off a +goodly portion of the gray and gilded paper which had so far effectually +aided to conceal a closed door situated behind the bed-head, from which +the frame had been removed. Then, for the first time since our +acquaintance, did I slap sharply those little, busy fingers which I +could have kissed for thankfulness, and, watching my opportunity, I +replaced the paper, unseen by Mrs. Clayton, with the remains of a +gum-arabic draught which had been prescribed for his cough. I knew that, +after experiencing such condign punishment, he would return no more to +the scene of his destruction, and that he might forget both injury and +discovery, I devoted myself to his amusement during that active, long, +rainy day with unhoped-for success.</p> + +<p>The glazier had announced to Mrs. Clayton that his return might be +deferred for four-and-twenty hours, and, as the succeeding day was clear +and warm, I proceeded, in spite of broken sashes, to take my daily bath +as usual at twelve o'clock.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clayton, with her prison-key in her pocket, and her snuffbox at +hand, yielded herself to the delight of ginger-nuts and her +stocking-basket, and rested calmly after her fatigues of the preceding +day; and Ernie, attracted by the crunching noise—the sound of dropping +nuts, perhaps, which betrayed the presence of his favorite article of +food—hastened to keep her company—a thing he never did +disinterestedly, it must be confessed.</p> + +<p>An opportunity now presented itself for observation which I knew might +not again occur during my whole captivity; and surely no sailor ever +ascended to the mast-head of the Pinta with a heart more heaved with +emotion than was mine, as I placed my foot on the last rung of the +ladder, and towered from my waist upward above the skylight. I had drawn +the bolt within, as I invariably did while bathing, and with a feeling +of proud security I stood and surveyed the scene beneath and around me. +The angle of vision did not, it is true, embrace objects immediately +below me, owing to the projecting cornices of the flat roof (a mere +excrescence from the original structure, as this was), but beyond this +the eye swept for some distance uninterruptedly.</p> + +<p>Bathed in the golden light of that autumn noonday sun, I saw and +recognized a long-familiar scene, and for a moment I reeled on the +slender step as I did so, and all grew dark around me. But, with one of +those energetic impulses that come to us all in time of emergency, I +recovered my balance in time to save myself from falling; and eagerly +and wistfully, as looks the dying wretch on the dear faces he is soon to +see no more, I gazed upon the paradise from which fiends had driven me.</p> + +<p>There, indeed, just as I had left it, lay the deep-green grassy lawn, +with its richly-burdened flower-pots, its laburnums, and white and +purple lilacs, and drooping guelder-rose bushes, and its great English +walnut-tree towering, like a Titan, in the centre. There was the +hawthorn-hedge my father's hand had planted, and the fountain-like +weeping-willow my mother had set, in memory of her dead, whose graves +were far away; and there towered the lofty elm-trees, with their long, +low, sweeping branches, meeting in friendly greeting, to two of which a +swing had once been attached as a bond of union—a swing in which it had +once been my childish pleasure to sway and read, while Mabel sat beside +me with her head upon my shoulder, held securely in her place by my +strong, loving, encircling arm.</p> + +<p>Nor were these all to assure me that, after a year of melancholy and +eventful absence, I looked again upon the precincts of home. A little +farther on rose the gray wall and tower of the library and belfry, half +concealed by its heavy coating of ivy, glossy and dark, and shutting +away all other view of the mansion. Beyond these last was the pavilion +my father had built for the playhouse of his children, through the open +lattice-door of which I saw a girl seated at her work, with graceful, +bending neck, and half-averted face. A moment later, Claude Bainrothe +lounged across the sward, cigar in hand. At his approach, the face +within was turned, and I recognized, at a glance, that of my young +aurora-like companion of the raft, Ada Greene. Then gazing cautiously +around, as if to elude observation (never dreaming of the eye dropped +like a bird's upon him), he lifted the rosy face in his hand and kissed +it thrice right loverly!</p> + +<p>I saw no more—I would not witness more—for had I not learned already +all that I asked or ought to know? Well might the dear old chimes ring +out their Sabbath welcome to one who had obeyed their summons from her +childhood up to womanhood! Well might the summer air bear on its wings +greeting of familiar odors, lost and found!</p> + +<p>This was no idle dream, no mirage of a vagrant brain like that +sea-picture, or that wild vision at Beauseincourt, but sober, and sad, +and strange reality. I understood my position from that moment, +geographically as well as physically. I was a prisoner in the house of +Basil Bainrothe (while he, perchance, reigned lordly in my own); that +house whose hidden arcana I had never explored, and which, beyond its +parlor and exterior, was to me as the dwelling of a stranger.</p> + +<p>Derisively deferential, he had resigned to me this secluded chamber in +the ell—his own particular sanctum, I remember to have heard—and +betaken himself, in all probability, to the more spacious mansion of his +former neighbor.</p> + +<p>Far wiser, even if sadder, than I went up its rounds, did I descend that +ladder!</p> + +<p>Half an hour after I had entered it, and with new hope, I emerged from +the bath-room as fresh as a naiad, having first abstracted from the +tool-box of the glazier two tiny chisels of different sizes, and a +small lump of putty, which I secreted, on my first opportunity, in my +favorite hiding-place—a hollow in the post of my bedstead—an +accidental discovery of mine, made during Mrs. Clayton's first illness, +since which I had always insisted on making up my own bed, much to her +relief.</p> + +<p>My conscience so disturbed me on the score of this theft, that I +hastened to secrete my only remaining piece of gold in the glazier's +box; ill-judged, as this appeared to me on reflection. The boy was an +apprentice, evidently, and might else, I thought, at the time, have been +the loser. I feared to add a line, and dared not seek a passing word +with him, so carefully was I watched.</p> + +<p>I next examined, with the eye of scientific scrutiny, two massive rulers +that lay on my table, one made of maple-wood, and the other of ebony, +and, having selected the first as most available for my purpose, +prepared to commence the most arduous undertaking of my life—the +careful shaping of a wooden key!</p> + +<p>I had read somewhere that, during the French Revolution, a young +peasant-girl, by means of such an instrument, had set at large her +lover, or her brother, in <i>La Vendée;</i> having taken with soft wax the +outline of the wards of the lock, in a moment of opportunity.</p> + +<p>That day my work began—three times a failure, but at last successful. +With the aid of putty, gradually allowed to harden, I obtained the mould +I desired, in the dead of night, and afterward, whenever privacy, even +for a few minutes, was mine, I drew from my bosom my sacred piece of +sculpture, and worked upon it with knife and chisel alternately, as +devotee never worked on sculptured crucifix. Never shall I forget the +rapture, the ecstasy of that moment, in which, ensconced between my +bed-head and the wall, I slowly turned the key, first thoroughly soaked +in oil, in the morticed wards, and knew, by the slight giving of the +door, that it was unlocked.</p> + +<p>Not Ali Baba, when he entered the robbers' cave, and saw the heaps of +gold—all his by the force of one magic word; not Aladdin, when the +genius of the lamp rose to his bidding, bearing salvers of jewels, which +were to purchase for him the hand of the sultan's daughter; not Sindbad, +when he saw the light which led him to the aperture of egress from the +sepulchre in which he had been pent up with his wife's body to die—knew +keener or more triumphant sensations than filled my bosom as I laid that +completed key next my heart, after turning it cautiously backward and +forward in my prison-lock!</p> + +<p>I dared not, at that time, draw back the bolt above, that confined it +loosely yet securely, or turn the silver knob sufficiently to set it +even ever so little ajar; but I did both later, when oil had time to do +its subtle work, and I could effect my experiment in silence. Yet I +hazarded nothing of the sort when the quick ear of Mrs. Clayton held +watch in the adjoining room. I was obliged to take advantage of those +moments of rare absence, when, double-locking the doors of her chamber, +both inner and outer, she would descend, for a few minutes, to the +realms below, returning so suddenly and silently as almost to surprise +me, on one or two occasions, at my work.</p> + +<p>About the time of the completion of my experiment, I became aware of +sounds in the room beneath my chamber, and sometimes on the great +stairway (of which I now knew the largest platform was situated very +near the head of my bed), that gave token of occupancy.</p> + +<p>The rattling of china and silver might be discerned in the ancient +dining-room, at morn and night. The occupant probably dined elsewhere, +but the regularity of these meals was unmistakable.</p> + +<p>I recognized, faintly, the step of Bainrothe on the stairway, +distinguishing it readily from any other, as it passed and repassed my +hidden door.</p> + +<p>October had now set in, with a chilliness unusual to that bland season, +and I asked for and obtained permission to have a fire kindled in the +wide and gloomy grate of my chamber, hitherto unused by me.</p> + +<p>About this household flame, Ernie, Mrs. Clayton, and I gathered +harmoniously; she with her unfailing work-basket, I with book or pencil, +the baby with his blocks and dominoes and painted pictures—the only +happy and truly industrious spirit of the group. My true work was +done—else might it never have been completed.</p> + +<p>The presence of fire was indispensable to Mrs. Clayton, and, from the +time of its first lighting, she left me but seldom alone. Her rheumatic +limbs needed the solace that I had no heart to grudge her, distasteful +as she was to me, and becoming more so day by day—false as I now knew +her to be—false at heart.</p> + +<p>How hatred grows, when we once admit the germ—not, like love, +parasitically—but strong, stanch, stern, alone throwing down fresh +roots, even hour by hour, like the banyan, monarch of the Eastern +forest. I am afraid I have a turn for this passion naturally, but for +love as well, ten times more intense—so that one pretty well +counterbalances the other.</p> + +<p>To carry out the vine-simile, I might as well add at once that, in the +end, the parasitical plant has triumphed, and stifled the sterner +growth. In other words, Christianity has conquered Judaism.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I may soon expect a visit from Mr. Bainrothe," I said one +day to Mrs. Clayton. "I think my birthday approaches; can you tell me +the day of the month? I know that of the week from remembering the +Sabbath chimes."</p> + +<p>I thought she started slightly at this announcement, but she replied, +unflinchingly:</p> + +<p>"The 5th, yes, I am quite sure it is the 5th of the month."</p> + +<p>"Do you never see a newspaper, Mrs. Clayton, and, if so, can you not +indulge me with a glimpse of one? I think it would do me good—remind me +that I was alive, I have seen none since the account of Miss Lamarque's +safety, for which God be praised."<a name="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6"><sup>[6]</sup></a></p> + +<p>"No, Miss Monfort, it is simply impossible. I should be transgressing +the rules of the establishment."</p> + +<p>"Dr. Englehart's, I suppose, as if indeed there were such a person," I +said, impetuously—unguardedly.</p> + +<p>"Do you pretend to doubt it?" she asked, slowly, setting her greedy eyes +upon my face, and dropping her darning-work and shell upon her knee. +"Why, what possesses you to-day, Miss Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"I shall answer no questions, Mrs. Clayton—this right, at least, I +reserve—but, the fact is, I doubt every thing lately, except this +child and God. I do not believe my Creator will forsake me utterly—I +shall not, till the end." And tears rolled down my face, the first I had +shed for days. I had been petrified, of late, by the resolution I was +making, and the effort of mind it had cost me. I had felt, until now, +that I was hardening into stone.</p> + +<p>"You desire to see Mr. Bainrothe, I suppose," she remarked, after a long +silence, during which she had again betaken herself to her occupation, +without lifting her eyes as she asked the question.</p> + +<p>"I desire to look my fate in the face at once, and understand his +conditions," I replied, sullenly.</p> + +<p>"But what if he is not here—what if Dr. Englehart—" lifting her eyes +to mine.</p> + +<p>"I cannot be mistaken," I interrupted, with impetuosity. "I have heard +his step; he eats in the room below; I am convinced, for I know of old +that bronchial cough of his—the effect of gormandism—"</p> + +<p>Then suddenly, Ernie, looking up, made a revelation, irrelevant, yet to +my ear terrible and astounding, but fortunately incomprehensible to my +companion. What did that little vigilant creature ever fail to remark?</p> + +<p>"Mirry make tea," he said, or seemed to say, and my face paled and +flushed alternately, until my brain swam.</p> + +<p>"Make tea?" said the voice of Mrs. Clayton, apparently at a great +distance. "No, I will make the tea, Ernie, as long as we stay together. +Mirry does not know how to draw tea like an Englishwoman."</p> + +<p>Oh, fortunate misunderstanding! how great was the reaction it +occasioned! From an almost fainting condition I rallied to vivacity, +and, for long, weary hours, sat pointing out pictures to the boy, to win +him to oblivion, and persuade him to silence. Singularly enough, but +not unusual with him, he never resumed the topic. I had taken pains to +hide my work from his observing eyes; and how he knew it, unless he lay +silently and watched me from his little bed, when I worked at early dawn +in mine, I never could conjecture. A few days later Mrs. Clayton +announced to me that Mr. Bainrothe would call very shortly.</p> + +<p>It was early morning, I remember, when she laid before me the card of +"Basil Bainrothe," with its elaborate German characters, on which was +written, in pencil, the addendum, "Will call at ten o'clock;" and, +punctual as the hand to the hour, he knocked at the dressing-room door +at the appointed time, and was admitted.</p> + +<p>He entered with that light, jaunty step peculiar to him, and which I +have consequently ever associated in others with impudence and guile. +Hat and cane in the left hand, he entered; two fingers of the right +raised to his lips, by way of salutation (he clinched his glove in the +remainder), to be offered to me later, and ignored completely, then +waved carelessly, as if condoning the offense.</p> + +<p>He was quite a picture as he came in—a fashion-plate, and as such I +coolly regarded him—fresh, fair, and smiling, looking younger, if +possible, than when we parted a year before, and handsome, as that +much-abused word goes, in his debonair, off-hand style of appearance.</p> + +<p>He was dressed with even more than his usual care and trimness (wore +patent-leather boots, my aversion from that hour, for these were the +first I had ever seen), and lavender-colored pantaloons, very tightly +strapped down over them; a glossy black coat and vest, and linen of +unimpeachable quality and whiteness; while a chain of fine Venetian +gold held his watch, or eye-glass, or both, in suspension from his neck. +Yet no beggar in rags ever appeared to me half so loathly as did this +speckless dandy!</p> + +<p>"You have come," I said, grimly, as he settled his shirt-collar to speak +to me, after formally depositing his hat and cane, and a roll of paper +he drew from his pocket, on the centre-table, and wiping his face +carefully with his cambric, musk-scented handkerchief, unspeakably +odious and unclean to my olfactories—"you have come at last; yet the +greatest wonder to me is, how you dare appear at all before me," and I +looked upon him right lionly, I believe.</p> + +<p>"You were always inclined to assume the offensive with me, Miriam. Yet I +confess you have a little shadow of reason this time, or seem to have, +and I am here to-day for purposes of explanation or compromise" (bowing +gracefully), and he rubbed his palms together very gently and +complacently, looking around as he did so for a chair, which perceiving, +and drawing to the table so as to face me where I sat on the sofa, he +deposited himself upon, assuming at once his usual graceful pose.</p> + +<p>It was <i>fauteuil</i>, and he threw one arm over that of the chair, +suffering his well-preserved white hand—always suggestive of poultices +to me—with its signet ring, to droop in front of it—a hand which he +moved up and down habitually, as he conversed, in a singularly soothing +and mechanical fashion—his "pendulum" we used to call it in old times, +Evelyn and I, when it was one of our chief resources for amusement to +laugh at "Cagliostro," our <i>sobriquet</i> for this <i>ci-devant jeune homme</i>, +it may be remembered.</p> + +<p>"Let me premise, Miriam," he began, "by congratulating you on your +improved appearance"—another benign bow. "You were so burned and +blackened by exposure, and so—in short, so very wild-looking when I +last saw you, that I began to fear for the result; but perfect rest and +retirement, and good nursing, have effected wonders. I have never seen +you so fair, so refined-looking, and yet so calm, as you are now +(calmness, my child, is aristocratic—cultivate it!); even if a little +thin and delicate from confinement, yet perfectly healthy, I cannot +doubt, from what I see. Do assure me of your health, my dear girl. You +are as dumb to-day as Grey's celebrated prophetess."</p> + +<p>"All personal remarks as coming from you are offensive to me, Mr. +Bainrothe," I rejoined; "proceed to your business at once, whatever that +may be—a truce to preamble and compliments."</p> + +<p>"You shall be obeyed," he remarked, bowing low and derisively. "Yet, +believe me, nothing but my care for your fair fame and my own have led +me to confine you in such narrow limits for a season which, I trust, is +almost over. As to my persecutions, which, I am told, you allege as a +reason for leaving your house and friends so precipitately, these are +out of the question henceforth forever, I assure you"—with a wave of +the velvet hand—"since I am privately married to a lady of rank and +fortune, who will soon be openly proclaimed 'my wife,' and who will be +found, on close acquaintance, worthy of your friendship."</p> + +<p>While giving utterance to this tirade, Mr. Bainrothe was slowly +unwinding a string from around the roll of papers he had laid on the +table, and which he now proceeded to spread somewhat ostentatiously +before me, still mute and impassive to all his advances as I continued +to be.</p> + +<p>"There are several," he said. "Your signature to each, will be +required, which, now that you are in your right mind again, and of age, +will be binding, as you know. My witnesses shall be called in when the +time comes. Dr. Englehart and Mrs. Clayton will suffice as proofs of +these solemnities—these and others likely to occur."</p> + +<p>"Solemnities! Levities, mockeries rather!" I could not help rejoining.</p> + +<p>He felt the sarcasm. His florid cheek paled with anger, his +yellow-speckled eyes glowed with lurid fire, he compressed his lips +bitterly as he said:</p> + +<p>"Marriage is usually considered a solemnity, Miss Monfort; and, let me +assure you, it is only as a married woman I can conscientiously release +you from confinement. You have shown yourself too erratic to be +intrusted in future with your own liberties."</p> + +<p>"Possibly," I rejoined. "Yet I mean to have the selection, let me assure +you, in return, of the controller of my liberties—nay, have already +selected him, for aught you know!"</p> + +<p>My cool audacity seemed for a moment to paralyze even his own. He paused +and surveyed me, as if in doubt of his own senses.</p> + +<p>"<i>Impayable!</i>" I heard him murmur, softly, and, turning to the +book-shelves, he left me for a time to master the contents of the three +documents over which I was bending.</p> + +<p>I read them in order as they were numbered, and became more and more +indignant as their meaning opened upon my brain, and culminated at last +in a sharp, sudden exclamation of utter disdain.</p> + +<p>I started from my chair and approached him, paper in hand. I think for +a few moments the idea of personal danger possessed him, and the vision +of a concealed dirk or pistol swam before his eyes, which he shielded +with his hand, while he placed a chair between us; and, truth to say, +there was murder in my heart, and in my eyes as well, I suppose, even if +the mistrust went no further.</p> + +<p>I could have obliterated him from the face of the earth at that moment +as remorselessly as if he had been a viper in my path striking to sting +me. Yet I advanced toward him with no demonstration or intentions of +this kind, having the habits of lady-like breeding and usual innocence +of weapons, and ignorance of the use thereof as well, to restrain me.</p> + +<p>I forget. Close to my heart lay one of the sharp, shining chisels I had +taken from the glazier in the bath-room.</p> + +<p>"What is it you object to, Miriam?" he asked, in faltering tones, as his +hand fell and his glimmering eyes encountered mine.</p> + +<p>From that day I have believed the legend which tells that, when the +Roman, helpless in his dungeon, thundered forth, "Slave! darest thou +kill Caius Marius?" the armed minion of murder turned and fled, dropping +the knife he held, in his panic, at the feet of the man he came to slay. +Almost such effect was for a time observable in Basil Bainrothe.</p> + +<p>It made me smile bitterly. "All, every thing," I answered. "The whole +requisition, from first to last, is base, dastardly—crime-confessing, +too—if seen with discriminating eyes. Why, if innocent of fraud toward +me and mine, should you ask a formal acknowledgment on my part as to +your just administration of my affairs, and a recantation of all I have +said to the contrary, both with regard to yourself and Evelyn Erle? +Such are the contents of this first paper, the only one that I could, +under any possible circumstances, be induced to sign as a compromise +with your villainy; for, not to gain my own life or liberty, will I ever +put hand to the others, infamous as they are on the very surface."</p> + +<p>"Miriam, this violence surprises me, is wholly unlooked for, and +unnecessary," he remarked, mildly. "From what Mrs. Clayton has told me, +I had supposed that my disinterested care and assiduity with regard to +your condition were about to meet their reward in your rational +submission to the necessities of your case and mine. Resume your seat, I +entreat you, and let us calmly discuss a matter that seems to agitate +you so unduly. Perhaps I may be able to place it before you in a better +light ere we have concluded our interview. You will sit down again, +Miriam, will you not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, surely, if you are alarmed; but, really, I should suppose, with +Mrs. Clayton and Dr. Englehart no doubt in call, you need not be so +tremulous. There, you are quite safe, I assure you, in your old place, +with the table between us;" and I pointed derisively to the <i>fauteuil</i> he +had occupied so gracefully a few moments before, and into which he now +slowly subsided.</p> + +<p>"Contemptuous girl," he broke forth at last, "you may yet live to regret +this behavior; so far, nothing has been denied you; no expense has been +spared for your comfort; in a tribunal of justice you could say this, no +more: 'My guardian, thinking me mad from his experiences of my conduct +and health, and regaining accidental possession of me at a time when, +under a feigned name, I was thought to be drowned, deemed it best, +before revealing my existence to the world, to try and restore me to +sanity by private measures, rather than bring upon my malady the eyes +of a mocking world. In doing this, he used all delicacy, all devotion, +surrounding me with comforts, and many luxuries, and even humoring my +insane whim to have the companionship of a year-old child found with me +on the raft under circumstances suspicious—if no more—'"</p> + +<p>"Wretch!" I gasped, "dare only asperse me in thought, and"—the menace +hung suspended on my tongue. What power had I to execute it, even if +uttered?</p> + +<p>"As to my name, I feigned none. It was my mother's, is my own, and from +her I inherited, or, from the race of which she sprang, the power to +remember and avenge my wrongs; to hate, and curse—and blast, perhaps, +as well—such as you and yours, granted to his chosen children through +the power of Almighty God!" And again I rose and confronted him; then +fiercely pointed down upon his ignoble head, now bowed involuntarily, +either from policy or nervous terror, I never knew, a finger quivering +and keen with scorn and rage, an index of the mind that directed it.</p> + +<p>"I wonder you are not afraid to behave to me in this manner," he said, +at length, lifting his head with a spasmodic jerk, and raising to mine +his mottled, angry eyes, now cold and hard as pebbles, "seeing that you +are, so to speak, in the hollow of my hand;" and, suiting the action to +the word, he extended his long, spongy, right hand, and closed it +crushingly, as though it contained a worm, while he smiled and +sneered—oh, such a sneer! it seemed to fill the room.</p> + +<p>"True, true—I am very helpless," I said, sitting down with a sudden +revulsion of feeling, and, clasping my hands above my eyes, I wept +aloud, adding, a moment later, as I indignantly wiped my tears: "Yes, if +the worst betide, there will only be one more martyr; and, what is +martyrdom, that any need shrink from it? The world is full of it!"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, if you are used to it," he said, carelessly, "as the old woman +remarked of the eels she was skinning alive; I suppose you know all +about it by this time. But come, you are rational again, now, and I +don't wish to be hard on you, Miriam; I don't, upon my soul!"</p> + +<p>"Your soul!" I murmured—-"your soul!" I reiterated louder; and I smiled +at the idea that suggested itself—"have reptiles souls?"</p> + +<p>"The memory of your father alone, my old, confiding friend, one of the +most perfect of men, as I always thought him, would incline me kindly to +his daughter, even if no other tie existed between us," he said calmly, +unmindful of my sarcasm. "But other ties do exist, mistaken girl! The +world looks upon us as one family—since the marriage of Claude and +Evelyn, that uncongenial union which, but for your caprice, would never +have taken place, and which is at the root of all our misfortunes, all +our fatal necessities."</p> + +<p>"Necessities!" I muttered, between my clinched teeth, drumming with my +fingers impatiently on the table before me, and smiling scornfully a +moment later.</p> + +<p>"You seem in a mood for iteration, to-day, Miss Monfort."</p> + +<p>"I make my running commentaries in that way, Mr. Bainrothe. But a truce +to recrimination and reminiscence both. Let us adhere strictly to the +letter and verse of our affairs. These papers form the subject of your +visit, I believe. Know, at once, that the first I will sign, on certain +conditions, bitter and humiliating as I feel it to be obliged to do +this; but, that I will ever consent to yield the guardianship of my +sister wholly to Evelyn Erie and her husband, or divest myself of my +house and furniture, or my wild lands in Georgia, to you, here first +named to me, in consideration of expenses already incurred and to be +incurred for Mabel's education, and my own safe-keeping, during a long +attack of lunacy; or that I will, to crown the whole iniquitous +requisition, consent to give my hand in marriage to that scoundrel—Luke +Gregory!—are visions as vain as those of the child who tried to grasp a +comet or the moon—or, to descend in comparison, to catch a bird by +putting salt on its tail! There, you have my ultimatum; now go and make +the best of it!"</p> + +<p>"I am prepared for your objections—prepared, too, to overcome them," he +said, coolly. "Take time to consider all this. I do not expect an answer +to-day, did not when I came, nor will I accept one signature without the +whole. There is no compromise possible. As to your marriage—it must be +accomplished before you leave this room. I, as a magistrate, can tie the +knot—fast enough to bind all the other agreements to certain +fulfillments, for Gregory is a friend of mine, and a man of honor, and +will see them carried out to the letter. He loves you, too, and proves +it, for he takes you penniless. Afterward a priest may complete the +ceremony if you have any scruples. Then, of course, it rests between you +and Gregory, whether you remain together or separate as wide as the +poles—I shall wash my hands of the whole affair thereafter, having +secured my good name and yours."</p> + +<p>I stood with bowed head and moving lips before him—mutely, indignantly.</p> + +<p>"I shall, however, make all this," he continued, "appear as well as +possible to your friends and mine, especially, believe me, Miriam! I +shall state, for your sake, that, after being rescued from the raft, you +were partially insane, but still sufficiently mistress of yourself to +coincide with me and your sisters in the wish to let your death as Miss +Harz pass current with the world, until you should redeem your errors" +(what errors?), "and be restored to health and perfect reason. You will +see that your acknowledgment of the last paper includes these +extenuating facts, when you have leisure to re-read it (for I saw how +hastily you glanced over that one in particular); you must do me the +favor to peruse it much more carefully," drawing on his gloves coolly, +"before you make your final decision. You are very comfortable here, my +dear girl," glancing around benignly, "but you have no conception of the +frame of mind, bare walls, utter solitude, a fireless hearth and a +frugal table, would bring about in a very few days or weeks, or even in +one as resolute and defiant as yourself. I should be loath to try such +an experiment <i>or deprive you of your child</i>—but <i>necessitous non habet +legem,</i> the school-book says. I think you, too, studied a little Latin, +Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"Monster!"</p> + +<p>"Not a very relevant or polite remark, I must confess. By-the-by, +Miriam, as you stand before me with your well-poised figure—your +blazing eyes—your quivering nostrils—your curling, compressed +lip—your heaving chest (always a splendid feature in your <i>physique</i>), +your folded arms, and the color coming and going in your pale-olive +cheek, in the old flame-like way I used to admire so much in your +girlhood—you are a splendid creature, by Jove! I could find it in my +heart to love you still—there, it is out at last—if it were not for +Mrs. Raymond—" glancing, as he spoke, in the direction of Mrs. Clayton, +with a knowing smile, "It was your magnificent disdain that kindled the +torch before. Beware how you revive that fanaticism of mine!"</p> + +<p>I turned for one moment with an involuntary feeling of appeal to Mrs. +Clayton, but her cold, green eyes were quivering in accordance with the +smile that stretched her thin lips to a line of mocking mirth. One +glimpse of sympathy would have carried me to her arms for +refuge—distasteful as she was to me in every way save one. She, like +myself, was a woman. But such perversion of all natural feeling +estranged me from her irreconcilably and forever.</p> + +<p>I was alone; shame, humiliation, despair, possessed me; indignation, for +the insult I was forced to bear in her presence, filled my soul—I stood +with my head cast down, tears raining on my bosom, my arms dropped +nervelessly beside me, my hands clinched, my whole frame trembling with +excitement.</p> + +<p>Slowly and one by one came those convulsive sobs—that rend and wrench +the physical frame as earthquakes do the earth. Then rose the sudden +resolve—born of volcanic impulse, irresistible to mind as is the +lava-flood to matter, sweeping before it all obstructions of reason, +habit, expediency.</p> + +<p>If it cost me my life I would avenge myself on this tiger, thirsting for +my blood; I would anticipate him in his work of destruction, and the +strength of Samson seemed to permeate my frame.</p> + +<p>It was strange that at that moment of cold, impetuous energy I forgot +the steel I carried in my bosom, and thought only of the power I bore in +my own hands. I determined to strangle him with my strong, elastic +fingers, of which I knew full well the powerful grasp.</p> + +<p>The consequences were as cobwebs in my estimate—compared to the ecstasy +of such revenge—for all this flashed through my brain with the swift +vividness of lightning, and in less than thirty seconds after his last +remark this matter was matured. The woman prevailed over the lady.</p> + +<p>I raised my eyes slowly and dashed away my tears, preparatory to the +onset. He was looking at me wonder-struck, and, perhaps, with something +like compunction in his face as I met his gaze. He must have read an +expression that appalled him in those dilated eyes of mine that +confronted his, for, as I sprang toward him, he bounded backward and +escaped through the door of Mrs. Clayton's chamber, which he shut after +him with undignified alertness. I stood smiling, and strangely cold, +leaning against the mantel-shelf, while my heart beat as though it would +have leaped from my throat, and I could feel the pallor of my face as +chill as marble.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clayton approached me, but I put her away with waving hands. "Go, +wretch!" I said, "woman no more, you have unsexed yourself. Leave me in +peace—your touch is poisonous."</p> + +<p>She shrank away silently, and I stood for a while like one frozen; then +cast myself down on a chair and gave way to bitter weeping. The +flood-gates were open, and the "waters" had indeed "come in over my +soul." I had restrained my passionate inclinations until now, not only +from a sense of personal dignity, but from a determination not to play +into the hands of my enemies and captors, and all the more from such +long self-control was the revulsion potent and overwhelming.</p> + +<p>The consciousness that Ernie was at my knee at last aroused me from the +indulgence of my grief, and I looked down to meet his compassionate and +inquiring eyes fixed upon me with a masterful expression I have never +seen in any other childish face. It thrilled me to the heart.</p> + +<p>"What Mirry cry for—is God mad with Mirry?" he asked at length.</p> + +<p>"It seems so, Ernie—yet oh, no, no! I cannot, will not believe in such +injustice on the part of the Most High!" I pursued in sad soliloquy, +with folded hands, and shaking head; and musing eyes fixed on the fire +before me: "My God will not forsake me!"</p> + +<p>"Did the bad man hurt Mirry?" he asked, leaning with both arms on my lap +and putting up his hand to touch my face.</p> + +<p>"Yes, very cruelly, Ernie."</p> + +<p>"Big giant will come and kill him, and fayways put him in the river, and +the old wolf wat eat Red Riding Hood eat him, and then the devil will +roast him for his dinner."</p> + +<p>I could but smile, albeit through my tears, at the climax of these +threats which seemed to delight and stir the inmost soul of Ernie. His +eyes flashed, his cheek crimsoned, his wide red mouth curled with +disdainful ire, disclosing the small, pointed pearls within; he seemed +transfigured.</p> + +<p>"And Ernie! what will Ernie do for Mirry?" I asked, as I watched the +workings of his expressive face. "Will Ernie let the wicked man kill +Mirry?"</p> + +<p>He looked at his small hands and arms, then extended them wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Ernie will tell good Jesus," he said, "and he will make Ernie grow +big—ever so big—to tie the man and put him in a bag like Clayton's +cat."</p> + +<p>The burlesque was irresistible, and none the less so that the child was +so direfully in earnest. To his infant imagination no worse disaster +than had befallen Clayton's cat could be devised. This animal, adored by +him, had been bagged and exiled, perhaps drowned for aught I know, for +stealing cheese from the cupboard sacred to Clayton, by that vengeful +potentate, to the despair of Ernie. The idolized kittens, too, which had +followed her, had disappeared with their mother, and days of infant +melancholy ensued, during which the canaries before referred to were +brought as substitutes. The faithful heart still clung to its feline +passion, it was evident, though for weeks the memory of that hapless cat +had been ignored and its name unmentioned.</p> + +<p>I believe, after my momentary wrath was over, I should have been content +with the punishment suggested by the child, as sufficient even for Basil +Bainrothe.</p> + +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> + +<a name="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6">[6]</a><div class="note"><p> The raft on which Miss Lamarque and her family had found +refuge had been swept by the tempest of nearly every soul that clung to +it, after a terrible night of storm and rain, during which that +courageous lady—that Sybarite of society—sustained the fainting souls +of her companions by singing the grand anthems of her Church, in a voice +loud, clear, and sweet as that of a dying swan. One child was saved of +the nine little ones, and the brother and sister remained almost alone +on the raft. Let it be here mentioned that, at no period of her +subsequent life, a long and apparently prosperous one, could Miss +Lamarque bear to hear the circumstances of the wreck alluded to. Mr. +Dunmore and his companions found a watery grave.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_IX"></a><h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>A nervous headache, that confined me to my bed for several days, +succeeded the degrading and exciting scene through which I had passed, +and, as Mrs. Clayton had at the same time one of her prostrating +neuralgic attacks, the services of Dinah were in active requisition. +During my own peculiar phase of suffering, the small racket of Ernie, +unnoticed in hours of health, grated painfully on my ear, and I caught +eagerly at the proposition of the negress to take him down-stairs for a +walk and hours of play in the sunshine, privileges he did not very often +obtain in these latter days.</p> + +<p>I was much the better for having lain silently for a time, when he +returned with his hands filled with flowers, his lips smelling of +peppermint-drops, and his eyes, always his finest feature, dancing with +delight.</p> + +<p>He had seen Ady, he told me, with eagerness, and she had kissed him, and +tied a string of beads about his neck—red ones—which he displayed; and +"Ady had a comb in her head, and her toof was broke"—touching one of +his own front teeth lightly, so that I knew he was not pointing out any +deficiency in the afore-mentioned comb. From this description, vague as +it was, I identified Ada Greene as the person intended to be described; +for I too had observed the imperfection he made a point of—a broken +tooth, impairing the beauty of otherwise faultless ones.</p> + +<p>"And who gave you the flowers, Ernie?" I asked, receiving them from his +generous hands as I spoke, and raising the white roses to my nostrils to +inhale their delicate breath. "Did Ady give you these?"</p> + +<p>"No—Angy!" he answered, solemnly.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about Angy, Ernie—had she wings?"</p> + +<p>"No wings! Poor Angy could not fly. She was walking in the garden with +Adam and Eve, with their clothes on," he said, earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Mr. and Mrs. Claude Bainrothe, no doubt," I thought, smiling at the +strange mixture of the real and the ideal—the plates of the old Bible +evidently supplied the latter, from which many of his impressions were +derived—and the practical pair in question the former, quietly +perambulating together.</p> + +<p>But "Angy!" Could I doubt for one moment to whom he applied that +celestial title? The face of one of the angels in the transfiguration +did, indeed, resemble Mabel's. I had often remarked and pondered over +it.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about Angy, Ernie," I entreated. "O Heaven! to think her hands +have touched these flowers—her sweet face bent above him! Darling, +darling! to be divided and yet so near! It breaks my heart!" and tears +flowed freely while he tried to describe the vision that had so +impressed him, in his earnest way.</p> + +<p>"Poor Angy got no wings," he began again; "bu hair, and bu eyes, and bu +dress"—every thing he admired was blue—"and she kissed Ernie and gave +him peppermint-drops. Then Adam and Eve laughed just so"—grinning +wonderfully—"and said, 'Go home, bad, ugly child, with a back on!' Then +Angy pulled flowers and gave Ernie!"</p> + +<p>"It is only the little gal next door—I means de young lady ob de +'stablishment, wat de poor, foolish, humped-shouldered baby talking +about," Dinah explained. "He calls her 'Angy,' I s'pose, 'cause she's so +purty like; and you tells him 'bout dem hebbenly kine of people, so de +say, mos' ebbery night. Does you think dar is such tings, sure enough, +Mirry?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Dinah—the Bible tells us so; but what is the name of the +pretty little girl of whom you speak? Tell me, if you know"—and I laid +my hand upon her arm and whispered this inquiry, waiting impatiently for +a confirmation of my almost certainty. For, that my darling <i>was</i> +Ernie's Angy, I could not doubt, and the thought moved me to tremulous +emotion.</p> + +<p>"Dar, now: you is going to hab one ob dem bad turns agin—I sees it in +your eyes. You see," dropping her voice for a moment, "I darsn't dar to +speak out plain and 'bove-board heah, as if I was at home in Georgy! +Ebbery ting is wat dey calls a mist'ry' hereabouts; an' I has bin +notified not to tell ob no secret doins ob deirn to any airthly creeter, +onless I wants to be smacked into jail an' guv up to my wrong owners. My +own folks went down on de 'Scewsko;' an' I means to wait till I see how +dat 'state's gwine to be settled up afore I pursents myself as 'mong de +live ones. We is all published as dead, you sees, honey, an' it would be +no lie to preach, our funeral, or eben put up our foot-board. +He—he—he! I wonder wat my ole man'll say ef he ebber sees me comin' +back agin wid a bag full ob money? I guess it'll skeer de ole creeter +out ob a year's growfe; but dis is de trufe! Ef Miss Polly Allen gits de +'state (she was my mistis's born full-sister, an' a mity fine ole maid, +I tells you, chile!), wy, den Sabra'll be found to be no ghose; fur it's +easier to lib wid good wite folks Souf dan Norf. We hab our own housen +dar, an' pigs, an' poultry, an' taturs, an' a heap besides, an' time to +come an' go, an' doctors wen we's sick, an' our own preachin', an' de +banjo an' bones to dance by, an' de best ob funeral 'casions an' +weddin's bofe, an' no cole wedder, an' nuffin to do but set by de light +wood-fiah an' smoke a pipe wen we gits past work; an' we chooses our own +time to lay by—some sooner, some later, 'cordin' as de jints holes out. +But here it is work—work—work—all de time; good pay, but no +holiday, no yams, no possum-meat, an' mity mean colored siety!"</p> + +<p>"But what has all this to do with the name of the little girl next door? +Whisper that, and tell me the rest afterward."</p> + +<p>"But, if Master Jack Dillard gits de 'state," she proceeded, as though +she had not heard my eager question, "wy, den Sabra Smif am as dead as a +door-nail from dis time to de day ob judgment, an' de ole man'll have to +git anoder 'fectionate companion. I'se mity sorry for de poor ole soul, +but I a'n't gwine to put myself in Jack Dillard's claws, not ef I knows +myself. He's one ob dem young wite sort wat lubs de card-table, an' +don't scriminate atween ole an' young folks. You see, he's my masta's +nevy—for de ole folks had no chillun but Miss May Jane, an' she's bin +dead dis fifteen yeer, and bofe her chilluns dun follered her to de +grabe, so dere is only Miss Polly Ann lef, and—"</p> + +<p>Here Mrs. Clayton groaned audibly, and, calling Dinah to her aid, broke +up the <i>tête-à-tête</i> if such might justly have been called our +interview. It was not very long, however, before Dinah returned to my +bedside, by Mrs. Clayton's directions, to offer to comb out my hair, +which was tangled beyond my skill to thread in my prostrate condition. +Yet, to make an effort so far as to rise and have this done, I knew +would be of benefit to me.</p> + +<p>We were sitting by the toilet, while the process of untangling my +massive length of locks was going on, and the upper drawer thereof was +half open, thus affording me a glimpse of its contents. Among these was +my silent watch with its chain of gold, its pencil and seal attached. I +wore it usually (though useless now in its silent condition—the +mainspring was broken) from habit and for safe keeping, but had laid it +there when I staggered to my bed, ill and weak after my terrible +interview with Mr. Bainrothe.</p> + +<p>It caught the eye of Dinah and stirred her master-passion, avarice, and +she began to question me, I soon saw, with a view of getting it in her +own possession. The selfishness of the old negress had struck me on the +raft as something rare even in one of her shallow race, and my +conviction of her cowardice and coldness prevented me from taking +advantage of her cupidity, as I might have done otherwise.</p> + +<p>She was fully capable, I felt convinced, of accepting my watch as a +bribe, and failing afterward to come up to her bargain. Yet, dear as it +was to me from association of ideas, I should not have weighed it an +instant against the merest probability of escape. I knew if I could gain +an hour upon my pursuers, I should be safe in the house of Dr. +Pemberton, or even in that of Dr. Craig, another friend of my father's. +I was comparatively at home anywhere in the city of my nativity, +acquainted as I was with its streets and people, and I fully determined, +when I found Sabra's avarice excited, to offer her as a reward this +golden treasure, should she first place me in circumstances to gain my +freedom.</p> + +<p>"Dey calls you pore, honey," she said softly, "but wen I sees dat +bright gole watch and chain I knows better. Now I reckon dey would bring +enough bright silver dollars at a juglar's shop to buy my ole man twice +over agin! He is but porely, and our chilluns is all dead and gone, +anyway, all but one, way down in New Orleans, an' ef I could git his +free papers he might come here and jine his wife in freedom, even if +Massa Jack Dillard did heir masta's estate. How much would dat watch and +chain be worth, honey?"</p> + +<p>"Two or three hundred dollars, I suppose, I don't know exactly; but +certainly enough to buy your old man at Southerners' value set upon aged +negroes; but whether it be or not—"</p> + +<p>An apparition, of which I fortunately caught the reflection in the glass +before me, cut short the promise that hovered on my lips. It was that of +Mrs. Clayton, in her bed-gown and swathed in flannel, peering, peeping, +listening at the door of her chamber, as unlovely a vision, certainly, +as ever broke up an <i>entretien</i> or dissolved a delusion.</p> + +<p>I maintained my self-possession, though my agitation was extreme (the +crisis had seemed so favorable!), while she limped forward and accosted +me civilly, with a demand as peremptory as a highwayman's for my watch +and chain, of which I took no notice.</p> + +<p>"I should be doing you great injustice in your condition," she added, +coolly, "to let you sell your watch, even to benefit Dinah and her old +man, benevolent as is your motive; so I must take possession of it, or +send for Dr. Englehart to do so, whichever you prefer."</p> + +<p>"The watch is there," I said, rising haughtily, with my still unadjusted +hair falling about me. "It was my father's and is precious to me far +beyond its intrinsic value; and I shall hold you accountable for it some +day. Take it at once, though, rather than recall the person before me +with whose presence you menace me. Keep it yourself, however; I would +rather deal with you than the others, false as you have shown yourself +to every promise."</p> + +<p>"I wish you would be reasonable," she said, "and do what your friends +ask of you. This confinement is wearing us both out; it will be the +death of me, and you will be to blame."</p> + +<p>"The sooner the better," I rejoined, heartlessly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Miss Monfort, you have no better friend than I am, perhaps, but you +are ungrateful."</p> + +<p>"I hope not; but some things of late have shaken, I confess, what little +faith I had in you; this confiscation of my property is one of them."</p> + +<p>"You know why this is done; I need not explain, but I shall trust you +fearlessly in Dinah's society in future. I believe you have no other +treasure to bribe her with," and, smiling in her sardonic way, she +turned and limped to her bedroom, which it had cost her so great an +effort to leave. Her groans and moans during the remainder of the +evening were piteous, and Dinah could do nothing to comfort her. A +sudden determination possessed me. My own system recuperated rapidly, +and after a nervous headache I was always conscious of renewed vital +power and of keener sensations. I would try the experiment once +more—hazarded under circumstances so different that it made me +tremulous but to think of the vast abyss between my <i>now</i> and then—and +essay, to magnetize Mrs. Clayton.</p> + +<p>She could not sleep naturally, and she feared evidently to avail herself +of opiates, lest in her heavy slumber, perhaps, I should escape. In her +normal condition this seemed impossible, for she slept habitually as +lightly as a cat, or bird upon its perch, yet lying, and with her key +beneath her head (never dreaming of other outlet) she felt at ease. I +had already learned that since her illness there were additional +precautions taken to insure my safety, and, as she had alleged, her own +fidelity.</p> + +<p>The Dragon was watched in turn by a Cerberus—no other than the +long-trusted colored coachman of Basil Bainrothe, of whom mention has +been made far back in these pages.</p> + +<p>Thus secure and secured, Mrs. Clayton might have surrendered herself to +slumber with all serenity, one would suppose, had it not absolutely +refused to visit her eyelids, and the suggestion of an opiate, on my +part, was received for some reason in dumb derision.</p> + +<p>I went to her at last, and said: "Mrs. Clayton, I hear you groaning +grievously, and I fancy I could relieve you. The laying on of hands is a +sort of gift of mine; let me try by such means to ease your pain."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Miss Monfort," very dryly, "you are very kind, indeed, but I +don't think you can relieve me. I have excruciating neuralgia in my +eyebones and temples, and my hands are cramped again. Dinah has been +rubbing, without bettering them, for the last half hour."</p> + +<p>"Let me try," and, without farther parley, I sat down to my +self-appointed, loathed, and detested task, first quietly dismissing +Dinah to the next room, where Ernie was eating his supper, and I knew +would soon be wanting to be put to bed. We changed places for a time, +and it was not long before Mrs. Clayton pronounced the pain in her eyes +"almost gone." The experiment was a desperate one, and I bore to it all +the powers of my organization—mental and physical—and had the +satisfaction in less than an hour to see her sleeping profoundly. She +had been failing fast under her painful vigils, and I knew that a few +hours of refreshing sleep would be worth to her more than all the drugs +in the Pharmacopoeia. Now came the test which was to make this slumber +worth nothing or every thing to me. If she could be awakened from it +without my coincidence, it would prove, perhaps, only a snare to my +feet, but if her waking depended on my will, then might I indeed hope to +baffle my Dragon, and, as far as she was concerned, make sure of my +escape. I willed then earnestly that she should sleep until twelve +o'clock; and at ten, when Dinah became impatient to retire, I gave her +permission, in order to gain egress to try and arouse Mrs. Clayton.</p> + +<p>In consequence of this immurement of our servant, I had remained +supperless—beyond the crusts of bread left by Ernie and some cold tea +in Mrs. Clayton's teapot, of which I partook with an appetite born of +exhaustion. Those who have undertaken this "laying on of hands," for the +purpose of soothing pain, will comprehend what the succeeding sensation +of nerveless prostration is—those only—and give me their sympathy.</p> + +<p>From her errand to arouse our sleeper in quest of the key, of course +Dinah returned disconsolate. Greatly to my satisfaction, she stated that +it was "out ob de question to try to git her eyes open. Why honey," she +pursued, "ef I didn't know what a steady-goin' Christian creetur she +was, I mout suppose she had bin 'bibin' of whisky or peach-brandy—dat's +de sleepiest stuff goin', chile; but I does believe she has the fallin' +fits, caze, even wen I pulled open one corner of her eyes, dey was +rolled clean back in her head. Mebbe she's dyin', chile, an' ef she +is—but no!" she muttered, "dat ole creetur down-stairs nebber leaves +dem back-doors open one minute, you had better believe, even ef he +happens to turn his back a spell, an' it would be no use tryin' to git +out ob de 'stablishment dat way, but I knows whar she keeps her key, an' +I kin go to bed myself if you say so, an' you kin lock de do' inside, +an' lay de key back undernefe her pillow: you see dar's a bolt outside, +too, honey, an' I means to draw dat after me, as ole Caleb always does +ob nights wen he goes to bed."</p> + +<p>Chuckling low at the manifest disappointment in my face, she +disappeared, to return almost instantly.</p> + +<p>"I thought she must be possumin'," she said, "but I know she is as fas' +asleep now as de bar' in de hollow ob a tree in cole wedder, for she +made no 'sistance like wen I grabbed de key from undernefe her head, an' +here it is, chile, an' ef you wants to try your 'speriment you kin, but +I spec you'd better wait a spell," and she looked cunningly at me; +"dere's traps everywhar in dese woods!"</p> + +<p>It occurred to me as well that Mrs. Clayton might be feigning slumber, +having penetrated my design of lulling and soothing her fitful spirit to +rest; and feeling, as I did, an utter want of confidence in Sabra, not +only as free agent but as watched attendant, I determined as far as in +me lay to disarm suspicion by duplicity. So I lifted up my voice in +testimony of deceit, and declared my weariness of bondage to be such +that I had determined to embrace Mr. Bainrothe's conditions, and that in +a few days I should be free again without assistance.</p> + +<p>"So take the key, Dinah," I said, after observing it closely, and +perceiving that it was several sizes larger than that I had made, as +clumsy as that was, and, therefore, could be of no use to me. "Let +yourself out, and bolt the door behind you, and Mrs. Clayton shall see +that I will take no mean advantage of her slumbers."</p> + +<p>This arrangement having been carried with speedy effect, I returned to +my own chamber after a close scrutiny of Mrs. Clayton's condition, and +employed myself at once in running my penknife around the door concealed +by my bed-head, and thus loosening the paper, pasted on cotton cloth, +that covered it, from that of the wall, with which it was connected so +intimately as to make the whole surface within the chamber seem to form +one partition.</p> + +<p>Long before this I had cut that which surrounded the lock, so that it +lay like a flap, over it, fastened down lightly, however, with +gum-arabic (part of Ernie's draught for a catarrh), so as to baffle +slight inspection. My heart beat wildly as, after having effected this +preliminary step, I cautiously unlocked the door, which, for aught I +knew, might be, like that of Mrs. Clayton's closet, bolted without, so +as to frustrate all my efforts. It opened outwardly, and could have been +readily so secured.</p> + +<p>In the great providence of God, it was not bolted. I sank on my knees, +weak and prayerful, I remember, as the door swung slightly back, +revealing the platform beyond, and the short stair that led from it up +to the second story. The hinges creaked a little, and these I hastened +to oil; then closing and relocking the door softly, I crept (without +pushing my bedstead back again the few inches I had wheeled it forward) +to look once more upon the sleeping face of Mrs. Clayton.</p> + +<p>It was still calm and unconscious. Ernie, too, slumbered peacefully. +Every thing seemed propitious to my purpose. I threw on hastily the +famous, flimsy black silk and mantle that had been prepared for me on +shipboard, tied a dark veil over my head, and, with no other +precaution, went forth, as I hoped, to freedom.</p> + +<p>My heart seemed to suspend its action as, cautiously unlocking and +opening the door, I stepped forth on the platform. It will be remembered +that I knew the topography of the lower part of the house of old +thoroughly.</p> + +<p>I had been entertained there with my father more than once, when, as +heiress of my mother's great estate, I had commanded the reverence of my +hosts, and the situation of parlors, study, and dining-room, was +perfectly familiar to me.</p> + +<p>It was what in those days was called a single house, though a +spacious-enough mansion; that is, all the rooms, with one exception, +were placed either on the same side of the wide hall of entrance, or +behind it in the ell. The study alone formed a small lateral projection +on the other hand. The door of this apartment opened at the foot of +that-stair, on the upper platform of which I now stood trembling, +weighing my fate by a hair. I had left the door ajar through which I had +crept quietly, so that, in case of failure, I might have a chance of +retreat before discovery should be made. It was well, perhaps, that I +did so on this occasion, for otherwise I should scarcely have had nerve +enough to avoid the sure and speedy detection which must have followed +the slightest delay or noise made in returning.</p> + +<p>I lingered to reconnoitre some minutes on the platform before I ventured +to commence the wary descent of the broad, carpeted stairway. I had +convinced myself that the second story was empty, though a lighted lamp +swung in the upper entry, as well as in that below, throwing a flood of +radiance on the scene with which I would fain have dispensed.</p> + +<p>I heard the sound of voices from the closed parlors, and saw reposing +on the rack before me several hats and canes, indicative of visitors. +From the study, however, there fortunately came no murmur, and I found +that it was dark. The front-door stood invitingly open; I could see the +opposite lamp-post without, and I had made up my mind to dart on and +downward, and reach at a bound the pavement, when the door of the first +parlor was suddenly thrown back, and left so, by a servant coming out +with a tray of wines and fruits which he had been evidently handing, and +I had just time to shrink into shadow, favored in my wish for +concealment by the black dress and veil I wore, when a once familiar +form appeared in the door-way of the front hall, which I recognized at a +glance as that of Gregory. Closing the door firmly after him, he +prepared to divest himself of hat and cape in the hall, without a look +in my direction. After the completion of which process he entered the +parlor by the nearest door, setting that also wide open as he did so, +with some exclamation about the heat of the apartment, which seemed to +meet with acquiescence from the powers within.</p> + +<p>I caught a panoramic view of that interior before I fled swiftly, +noiselessly, hopelessly, back to my cage again, having lost my only +chance of escape by that fatal delay of five minutes on the platform. I +should have been out and away on the wings of the wind ere Gregory +entered the inclosure before the house, had I not hesitated. Yet, after +all, perhaps, I miscalculated. What if I had met him face to face—been +seized and dragged back again to captivity! Perchance it was better as +it was. Time would develop and determine this; but, in the interval, how +woful was my disappointment!</p> + +<p>I had time to get to bed again, and in some degree recover my +composure; indeed, I had been in bed an hour when the clock in the +dining-room beneath me, which, since the evident occupancy of that +long-deserted hall, had been wound and put in running order, struck +twelve, with its deep-mouthed, melodramatic tones, and at the very +moment I heard sounds indicative of the resurrection of the mesmeric +sleeper.</p> + +<p>She was evidently startled in some way on finding herself awake again, +or perhaps from having fallen so soundly asleep in hands like mine, for +she called aloud first for "Dinah," then, repeatedly, on "Miriam," both +without effect. In a few moments after these appeals had died away she +came in person, as I knew she would, to reconnoitre.</p> + +<p>The bedstead had been pushed carefully and noiselessly back again on its +grooved castors against the door, from the lock of which the wooden key +had been removed, rewashed in oil, and hidden away in that hollow +aperture in the bedstead, which formed a perfect box, by the skillful +readjustment of one loosened compartment of the veneering of the massive +post.</p> + +<p>She shook me slightly, and I rose in my bed with a start and shudder, +admirably simulated, I fancied, and which completely deceived her +evidently. "I am sorry to have startled you so," she said, hurriedly, +"but where is Dinah, Miss Monfort, and how did she get out?"</p> + +<p>"I really cannot inform you where she is," I answered, petulantly. "I +scarcely think it was worth while to disturb me for the sake of asking +me a question you must have known my inability to answer."</p> + +<p>"But how did she get out, Miss Harz?"</p> + +<p>"By means of the key under your head, which you will find in the lock, +no doubt, where it was left. She promised me, insolently enough, to +bolt the door outside to prevent egress, and I, to prevent ingress, +locked it within."</p> + +<p>"So she assured you we were both prisoners by night, did she? Well, I am +glad you have proof at last of what I told you."</p> + +<p>"I have no proof; but, as I have made up my mind to come to terms of +some kind very soon, I thought it useless to investigate. Do you feel +better for my laying on of hands? You seem refreshed."</p> + +<p>"Yes, greatly better; a good sleep was what I needed, and I fell into a +doze while you were beside the bed, I believe. I have heard of magnetism +before as a means of relief for pain; now I am convinced of its +efficacy."</p> + +<p>"Magnetism! You don't think it amounts to that, do you? You flatter me;" +and I laughed.</p> + +<p>"I do, indeed, and I am sure I am much obliged to you, Miss Monfort; +though, for that matter, you can never say, even when you come to your +own again—which you will now do shortly—that I have not been +considerate and attentive to you while in confinement."</p> + +<p>"You need not be afraid of any complaint as far as you are concerned. I +think I comprehend you and your motives by this time. Let there be peace +between us from this hour." And I extended my hand to her, which, very +unexpectedly to me, she seized and kissed—a proceeding deprecated +loathingly. "I assure you," I added, laughingly, "I would rather even +marry Englehart than continue here."</p> + +<p>"Then you will marry Mr. Gregory?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know—either that or die, I suppose—whichever God pleases. I +am weary of being a prisoner—weary of you, of every thing about me. All +that I cared for is lost to me, and I might as well surrender, I +suppose; not at discretion, however!"</p> + +<p>She turned from me silently, and sought her couch again; but I felt +instinctively that she slept no more; and so we lay, silently watching +one another, until morning. I dared not renew my efforts to escape, at +all events, in the night-time, when I knew the house was locked, and +watched without, as well as within—for this was the old habit of the +square.</p> + +<p>One—two—three—four o'clock came, and passed, and were reported by the +deep-tongued clock in the room beneath me, before I slept, and then I +dreamed a vision so vivid, that I wakened from it excited—exhausted—as +though its frightful figments had been stern realities.</p> + +<p>I thought that the noble dog Ossian came to me again and laid the +double-footed key upon my lap, as he had done at Beauseincourt—staining +my white dress with blood, not mud, this time, and that Colonel La Vigne +struck it furiously to the floor, and handed me instead the wooden one I +had carved, with the words of the proverb:</p> + +<p>"The opportunity lost is like the arrow sped: it comes no more. Your +wooden key will fail you next time, as it has failed you this, and you +will be baffled—baffled—as you tried to baffle me! Miriam, unseen I +pursue you!"</p> + +<p>Then he laughed horribly, and faded in the gray dawn, to which I awoke, +covered with cold dew, and trembling in every limb. Had he been there, +indeed, in spiritual presence? Was it his hand that had left that band +about my brow—that surging in my brain—that weight upon my heart? O +God! had I indeed become the sport of fiends? At last I wept, and in my +tears found sullen comfort. The image so often caviled at as false in +<i>Hamlet</i> came to me then as the readiest interpretation of what I +suffered, and thus proved its own fidelity and truth. "A sea of sorrow" +did indeed seem to roll above me, against which I felt the vanity of +"taking arms."</p> + +<p>My destruction was decreed, and I had nothing to do but suffer and +submit!</p> + +<p>All the persecution I had sustained since my father's death, at the +hands of Evelyn and Basil Bainrothe—all my wrongs, beginning at the +heart-betrayal of Claude, and ending with the immurement I was suffering +now at the hands of his father—all my strange life at Beauseincourt, +with its episode of horror, its one reality of perfect happiness too +fair to last, its singular revelations, its warm and deep attachments, +my fearful and nightmare-like experience on the burning ship, the level +raft, with the green wares curling above it, the rescue, the snare into +which I had inevitably fallen, the Inquisition-walls closing around +me—all were there in one vivid and overwhelming mental summary!</p> + +<p>I think if ever madness came near me in my life, it came that night, so +crushing, so terrific was this weight which, Sysiphus-like, memory was +rolling to the summit of the present moment, to fall back again by the +power of its own weight to the valley below—the valley of despair—- +and destroy all that it encountered or found beneath it. Yet, by the +time the sun was up, my eyes were sealed again in slumber.</p> + +<p>Before I close this chapter, it will be as well to describe the tableau +I had caught sight of through the open parlor-door when I tempted my +fate and failed.</p> + +<p>Standing close in the shadow, so that, even if directed toward me +unconsciously, the glance of those within, I knew, could not penetrate +the mystery of my presence, I scanned with a sad derision, the scene +before me. With a glance I received the impression that it required +moments to convey in narrative.</p> + +<p>On the hearth-rug, with his back to the fire, his legs apart, his +coat-skirts parted behind him, stood Basil Bainrothe, monarch of all he +surveyed, with extended hand, evidently demonstrating some axiom to the +two visitors ensconced on the sofa near him, who, with the exception of +their booted feet, and the straps of their pantaloons, were beyond my +angle of vision. On the opposite side of the chimney from these +inscrutable guests sat two ladies, elaborately dressed and rouged, in +whom I recognized at a glance Evelyn Erle and Mrs. Raymond. Just before +I vanished, Claude Bainrothe, courteous in manner and elegant in +exterior, approached them from the other parlor, in time to witness the +<i>entrée</i> of Gregory, to which I have referred, and to salute him +cordially. That these were all confederates I could not doubt, and +prepared to aid each other. How could I know that one pair of those +evident feet belonged to the invisible body of a man who was one of the +few whom I could have called to my defense from the ends of the earth, +had choice of champions been afforded me? It was not until long +afterward that I ascertained beyond a doubt that Major Favraud had +formed one of that company on the occasion of my fatal failure. Had I +dreamed of his presence, I should fearlessly have entered the parlor, +and thrown myself on his brotherly protection, secure of his best +efforts to rescue me, even though his own heart's blood had been the +sacrifice.</p> + +<p>Alas! should I ever find another dart like that, never to be recalled, +to launch in the right direction, and fix quivering in the eye of the +target?—God alone could know.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_X"></a><h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>After the one hopeful excitement of my prison-life, my spirit drooped +deplorably for a season, and all occupation became distasteful to me. My +diary even was abandoned, the writing of which had so well assisted to +fill my time, and, although destroyed daily, to impress upon my memory a +faithful and sequent record of the monotonous hours, else remembered +merely as a homogeneous whole. Had it not been for poor Ernie and his +requirements, I should have sunk under this fresh phase of suffering, I +am convinced. My health, too, was giving way. My strength, my energy +were failing. I kept my bed, as I had never been willing to do before if +able to arise from it, until noon sometimes, for want of nervous +impulse, and my food was tasteless and innutritious, even when I forced +myself to eat a portion of what was placed regularly before me. It +seemed to me that, long ere this, Wardour Wentworth must have +ascertained my fate, and the thought that he might be passive when my +very soul was at stake, thrilled me with agony unspeakable.</p> + +<p>This mood endured so long that even Mrs. Clayton grew alarmed. She +insisted on Dr. Englehart again, and, when I shook my head drearily for +all reply, begged that I would permit her to state my case to Mrs. +Raymond, who might in turn see some able physician about me and procure +remedies.</p> + +<p>To this, at last, I consented.</p> + +<p>The consequence was what I had hoped it might be: Mrs. Raymond came in +person, and I had at last the opportunity I had long desired of seeing +her alone. If thoughtless, if unrefined according to my views of good +breeding, she was still young, and vivacious, and perhaps kind-hearted; +besides this, sufficiently well pleased with herself to be generous to +one who could no longer be her rival.</p> + +<p>Her approach was heralded by a note from Mr. Bainrothe, full of his +characteristic, guileful sophistry and cool impertinence. It ran as +follows (I still possess this billet with others of his inditing—along +with a snake's rattle):</p> + +<p>"MIRIAM: I am glad to hear through Mrs. Clayton that reaction has +occurred, and that you manifest repentance for your recent violence +toward one who always means you well. A little jesting on the part of +your guardian, my dear girl, should meet with a very different +reception, and handsome women must submit to compliments with a good +grace, or run the risk of being called prudes or viragos. Not that I +mean to apply either term to you by any means. Your father's daughter +could not be other than a lady, even if she tried, but I must confess +your manners have deteriorated somewhat since you went into voluntary +banishment among those outlandish people. I have heard no very good +account of this old La Vigne who died in debt, it seems, and left his +children beggars. I have some curiosity to know whether he paid your +salary. 'Straws show,' you know, etc.</p> + +<p>"It is now October; by the end of this month I hope you will have made +up that stubborn mind of yours (truly indomitable, as I often say to +Evelyn) to leave seclusion, and enter your family once more in the only +way you can do so respectably after what has occurred—as a married +woman.</p> + +<p>"You remember the French song which I was always fond of humming, 'Où +est on si bien qu'au sein de sa famille?' How appropriate it seems to +your condition!</p> + +<p>"You will be surprised to hear that your step-mother's brother has +appeared on the tapis, and that he has had the audacity to propose to +adopt Mabel, whom he claims as his niece.</p> + +<p>"He seems a gentlemanly person enough, but may be an impostor for aught +I know. The young lady he was engaged to, Gregory tells me, perished in +the Kosciusko, which proves a relief, after all, as it is rumored he has +a wife in Europe. But such gossip can hardly interest you very vividly. +The man has gone to California, and will probably return no more.</p> + +<p>"Did you, or did you not, meet this person at Colonel La Vigne's? +Favraud hinted something of the kind when he was here; but I can get no +satisfaction from Gregory.</p> + +<p>"They all believe you were drowned in Georgia, and I thought it best for +the present not to undeceive Favraud, who laments your fate.</p> + +<p>"The surprise will be all the more pleasant; and, of course, every thing +will be explained to the satisfaction of friends when you appear +publicly as the wife of Luke Gregory—'long secretly married!' You see, +it will be necessary to go back a little to save appearances, on account +of Ernie!"</p> + +<p>The miscreant! I understood him now—oh, my God, for strength to tear +his cowardly heart from his truculent body! But no; let there be no +further unavailing anger. In God's good time all should recoil on his +own head. For the present, I must bear, and make myself insensible, if +possible; and yet, I would not willingly have had the living greenness +of my spirit turned to stone, as we are told branches are in some +strange, foreign rivers—crystal-cold!</p> + +<p>Another extract, the closing one, and then forever away with Basil +Bainrothe and his flimsy letters:</p> + +<p>"Again, I must congratulate you on the subdued and humbled temper you +manifest. Claude, and Evelyn, and I, had just been discussing a plan for +removing you to another asylum, where stricter discipline and less +luxurious externals are employed to conquer the otherwise unmanageable +inmates. Dr. Englehart, you know, holds up the theory of indulgence to +his patients, and I am rejoiced to find his measures have at last +prevailed over your frenzy. Mabel, like your other friends, believes you +dead, and is at home with Evelyn and Claude, and is growing in beauty +and intelligence every day.</p> + +<p>"She was quite shocked at her uncle's wild behavior, and positively +refused to go with him, is fond of Mr. Gregory, and remembers you with +affection.</p> + +<p>"Owing to my knowledge of your condition for the last year, my dear +child, I don't blame you for any thing that is past, not even for those +delusions with regard to my own acts and intentions which formed your +mania, nor for the misfortune and sense of shame which, no doubt, caused +your hasty flight, and whose evidences you brought with you from the +raft, in the shape of a nearly year-old child.</p> + +<p>"I remain, faithfully yours,</p> + +<p>"B.B."</p> + +<p>The shameful accusations which brought the blood to my brow ought to +have been easier to bear than all the rest, because so easily confuted, +and because I knew not really believed; but they were not. The very idea +of shame humiliated me more than positive ill-treatment could have done; +and, spotless though I knew myself to be (as others knew me too—all I +loved and cared for), still my purity was shocked by such injustice.</p> + +<p>I felt like one who had gone out to walk in fresh attire, and been +mud-pelted by rude urchins, so that the outward robes, at least, were +soiled, and a sense of degradation and uncleanness became the +consequence in spite of reason. But, after all, the dress could be +easily changed when opportunity should occur, and all be made clean +again, and the mud-pelting forgotten or overlooked, and the urchins +punished or dismissed in scorn.</p> + +<p>Surely, God would not much longer permit this fiend to subjugate me. Had +I not suffered sufficiently? Alas I who but our Creator can judge of our +deserts, or measure our power to bear?</p> + +<p>In my adversity and lonely trouble I had drawn near to Him and his +blessed Son—our Mediator, and example, and only strength. Dear as was +still the memory of that earthly love, the only real passion I had ever +known, could ever know, it came no longer to my spirit as a substitute +for religion. I had learned to separate my worship of God from my fealty +to man, yet was this last not weakened, but strengthened, by such +discrimination.</p> + +<p>If only for the gift of grace it brought to me, let me bless my sad +captivity!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_XI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The dreary days rolled on; the health of Mrs. Clayton declined so +rapidly that a small stove was found necessary to the comfort of her +contracted bedroom, which freed me from the unpleasant necessity of her +actual presence. The stocking-basket was set aside, the gingerbread nuts +were neglected, and the noise of constant crunching, as of bones, came +no more from my dragon's den; nor yet the smell of Stilton cheese and +porter, wherewith she had so frequently regaled herself and nauseated me +between-meals, and in the night-season. I used to call her a chronic +eater—a symptom, I believe, of the worst sort of dyspepsia, as well as +too often its occasion.</p> + +<p>I prefer, myself, the Indian notion of eating, seldom, and enough at a +time. After all, is there any despot equal to the stomach and its +requisitions? What an injustice it seems to all the rest of the organs, +the royal brain especially, that this selfish, sensual sybarite should +exact tribute, and even enforce concession, whenever denied its +customary demands!</p> + +<p>There are human beings, the poor of the earth, as we know, who pass +their whole lives, merge their immortal souls in ministering to its +absolute necessities, who go cold, ill-clad, and ignorant, to keep off +the pangs of hunger; who sacrifice pride and affection at its miserable +altar. There are others, fewer in number, it is true, but scarcely less +to be pitied, who exceed this enforced servility in the most abject +fashion of voluntary adulation; who flatter, persuade, and bring rich +tribute to this smiling Moloch, only waiting his own time to turn upon +and destroy his idolaters. For the pampered stomach, like all other +spoiled potentates, is treacherous and ungrateful beyond belief.</p> + +<p>Yet the philosophers tell us man's necessity for food lies at the root +of civilization, and that the desire for a sufficiency and variety of +aliment alone keeps up our energies! I cannot think so; I believe it is +the stone about our necks that drags us down, and is intended to do so, +and which keeps us truly from being "but a little lower than the +angels."</p> + +<p>"Revenons à nos moutons!"</p> + +<p>The good-hearted vulgarian, who, whatever she was, and however +detestable the part she was playing, was at least possessed of womanly +sympathy, came frequently to see me during those weary days. Her +engagement to Mr. Bainrothe was never by her acknowledged, or by me +alluded to, and she seemed to have taken up the impression in some way +that I was the victim of an unfortunate attachment to that subtle +person, which had degenerated into a morbid and causeless hatred on my +part, leading to mania.</p> + +<p>Had she stated this conviction plainly, I might have been tempted to +undeceive her; as it was, I suffered the error to continue, knowing that +no condition of belief would influence her half so kindly toward me. +Women as a class have a sincere friendship for those who have undergone +slighting treatment at the hands of their lovers and husbands; and we +all know what a common trick of trade it is with men who have been +unsuccessful in their attempts to gain a woman's affections, or worse, +in their evil designs on her honor, to give out such mendacious +impressions!</p> + +<p>Yet, to the end of time, the vanity and credulity of women will lead +them to lend credence to such statements, rather than look matters +firmly in the face, with the eyes of common-sense and experience. I, for +one, am a very skeptic on this subject of manly dislike growing out of +female susceptibility, and usually take the conservative view of the +question.</p> + +<p>During one of these condescending visits of the "Lady Anastasia," whose +position toward Bainrothe I perfectly comprehended, through the +inadvertence, it may be remembered, of Mrs. Clayton, I ventured to ask +her whether she had met with her betrothed, as she had expected to do on +landing at New York, and when her marriage was to take place.</p> + +<p>"Whenever you come out of this retirement, dear; not before. You see I +have set my heart on 'aving you for my bridesmaid, with your friends' +permission."</p> + +<p>"Then Mr. Bainrothe has concluded to annul the condition of my marriage +before leaving the asylum."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I had forgotten about that! Well, we will have the ceremony +performed together, if you prefer; down in Dr. Englehart's +drawing-rooms."</p> + +<p>"You reside here, then?" I questioned; "you are at home in this house, +whosesoever it may be?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, you quite misunderstand me. I am staying with friends, and Mr. +Bainrothe is over at home with his son and daughter-in-law"—with a jerk +of her head in the right direction—"in the other city, I mean; I am +such a stranger I. forget names sometimes. This, you know, is solely +Dr. Englehart's establishment."</p> + +<p>"I suppose that gentleman is absent, as I have not seen him lately," I +continued.</p> + +<p>"He has been absent, but has just returned. He speaks of calling, I +believe, very soon, to see you on the part of Mr. Gregory. How happy you +are to inspire such a passion in the heart of that splendid man!"—and +she rolled her eyes, and drew up her square, flat shoulders +expressively. "Do tell me where you knew him, and all about it; I am +sure he is much more suitable to you, in age and intellect, +than—than—even Mr. Bainrothe."</p> + +<p>"There is no question of him now," I responded, gravely, purposely +misunderstanding her; "he has been married some time to my step-sister, +Evelyn Erie, and, I suppose, with many of my other friends, believes me +dead!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I assure you," she rejoined, with some confusion, "it is a +mistake altogether. Both Mr. and Mrs. Claude Bainrothe are perfectly +aware of your seclusion, and he, especially, recommended and contrived +it."</p> + +<p>"There <i>was</i> contrivance, then; you admit that!" I said, impressively.</p> + +<p>At this juncture a feeble voice from the adjoining room was heard +calling aloud, and I listened to it, uplifted as it was, evidently, in +tones of remonstrance and reproof, for some moments afterward—the Lady +Anastasia having hastened, with dutiful alacrity, to the bedside of her +<i>soi-disant</i> servant.</p> + +<p>I became aware, after this visit, that Mrs. Raymond had become my jailer +as well as her mother's. She came regularly at supper-time thereafter to +superintend Dinah's arrangements, to give Mrs. Clayton her +night-draught, which did not assuage her direful vigilance one +particle, but rather seemed to infuse new powers of wakefulness in those +ever-watchful eyes, until sunrise, when, protected by the knowledge that +others besides herself were on the watch, she permitted sleep to take +possession of her senses.</p> + +<p>I earnestly believe that no one ever so effectually controlled the +predisposition to slumber as did this woman.</p> + +<p>After locking us up regularly for the night, the "Lady Anastasia" +withdrew, followed by Dinah; and I would hear, later, sounds of +festivity, in which her well-known laugh was blended, in the dining-room +below, where, with Bainrothe and his friends, she held wassail, +frequently, until after midnight. The groans of Mrs. Clayton would then +commence, and, with little intermission, last until morning's light.</p> + +<p>Yet it was something to be rid of Mrs. Raymond's surveillance during +those very hours I had selected for my second effort to escape. This +must be hazarded, I knew, between eight and ten o'clock of the evening, +during which time I had reason to suppose the house-door remained +unlocked. The risk of encountering some one in the hall below—for there +was constant passing and repassing of footsteps during those +hours—constituted my chief danger; but, at all hazards, the experiment +must then, if at all, be made.</p> + +<p>October was fast drifting away, and I knew that at its close my course +would be decided for me, should I not anticipate such despotism by +setting it at naught, in the only possible way—that of flying from the +scene of my oppression.</p> + +<p>How to do this, and when, became the one problem of my existence; and it +was well for me that Mrs. Clayton was too great a sufferer to notice +beyond my external safety, or she might have seen clear indications of +some strange change at work, stamped upon my features.</p> + +<p>My unsettled intentions were suddenly brought to a crisis by the +contents of a letter handed to me, as usual, in the shadows of the +evening, by the long-absent Dr. Englehart, who came in person, in +accordance with Mrs. Raymond's announcement (arriving, as it chanced, +while Mrs. Clayton slumbered), to deliver it.</p> + +<p>Gregory wrote a large, clear hand, not difficult to decipher, even by +the dim light of a moonlight lamp; and, while Dr. Englehart stood +regarding me in the shadow, anxiously enough, I perceived, to keep me +entirely on my guard, I perused, with mingled derision and terror, this +truly characteristic epistle. My running commentaries, as I +read—entirely <i>sotto voce</i>, of course, for one does not care to rouse +the wrath of a tiger on the crouch, by flinging pebbles in the +jungle—may give some idea of the impression it made upon me, and the +emotions it excited.</p> + +<p>"BELOVED MIRIAM" (insolent cur!)—"for by this tender title I am +permitted to address you at last" (by whom?)—"I cannot flatter myself +that, in concurring with the wishes of your friends, you return my +fervent passion" (you are mistaken there; I do return it with the seal +unbroken); "but will you not suffer me to hope that the deep, +disinterested devotion of months may undo the past, and dissolve those +bitter prejudices which I feel well aware were instilled into your heart +by one of the coldest and most time-serving of men" (of course, hope is +free to all; it is no longer kept in a box, as in the days of Pandora)? +"When I assure you that Wentworth, with a perfect knowledge of your +present situation, has repudiated the past, you will more perfectly +understand my reference" (I will believe this when he tells me so, not +before; your assertion simply reassures me). "It is not, however, to +place my own devotion in contrast with his perfidy, that I now address +you" (Nature drew the contrast, fortunately for him, without your +assistance), "but to beseech you, for your own sake, to let nothing turn +you from your recently-formed resolution" (I don't intend to let any +thing turn me, if I can help it, this time!). "It remains with you to +live a free and happy life, adored and indulged by one who would give +his heart's blood to serve you" (a poor gift, I take it), "or pass your +whole existence in the cell of a lunatic, cut off from every being who +could care for or protect you." (Great Heavens! what can the wretch +mean?) "Should you refuse to become my wife, and affix your signature to +the papers in your possession, I have reason to know that Bainrothe +designs to make, or rather continue, you dead, and imprison you in a +lonely house on the sea-coast, which he owns, where others of his +victims have before now lived and died unknown!" (Very melodramatic, +truly; but I don't believe Cagliostro would dare to do it.) "To convince +you of the truth of my allegations. Dr. Engelehart is instructed to +place in your hands a note recently intercepted by me from that +arch-conspirator to his son, which please return to him, my truest +friend" (direst enemy, you mean), "along with this letter, as I send you +both documents at my own peril, and dare not leave them in your hands" +(how magnanimous!); and here I dropped the letter on the table, and +extended my hand mutely to Dr. Englehart for the note, which was ready +for me, in the hollow of his pudgy palm.</p> + +<p>It did, indeed, most clearly confirm the statement, true or false, of +the ubiquitous Gregory. Returning it to the physician <i>pro tem</i>., I then +continued the perusal of this singular love-letter to the end, in which +the lawyer and knave predominated in spite of Eros! Yet there was food +for consideration here, and extremest terror.</p> + +<p>"How long before this ultimatum is proposed to me, which Mr. Gregory +seemed to anticipate, and with which you, no doubt, are acquainted?" I +asked, coldly, after consideration.</p> + +<p>"Ten days will close up de whole transaction, as I understand," was the +no less cool reply, made in those husky, inimitable tones, peculiar to +the man of petty pills.</p> + +<p>"Ten days! It would seem a short time wherein to get up a reasonable +trousseau, even!"</p> + +<p>"True—true! but nosing of dat kind is necessaire under dese +circumstances—only your mos' gracious and graceful consent!" He spoke +eagerly, with bowed head and clasped hands, standing mutely before me +when he had concluded.</p> + +<p>"If Mr. Gregory loved me truly, he would not limit me thus," I hazarded. +"He would give me time to learn to return his affection, as I must try +to do, and to forget the past! He would not strike hands with my +persecutors, but insist on my liberation—or obtain it, as he could +readily do, without their coöperation, through you, Dr. Englehart, who +seem to be his friend and ally, and who have already run such risks for +his sake in bringing me these two dangerous letters," and as I spoke I +pushed them across the table, to be gathered up and concealed with +well-affected eagerness.</p> + +<p>How perfectly he played his part, and how cunningly Bainrothe had +contrived to convey to me his menace—real, or assumed for effect, I +could not tell which, for my judgment spoke one language, my cowardice +another! Yet, I confess, that the panic was complete, though I concealed +it from the enemy.</p> + +<p>"Women usually, at least romantic and incredulous women like me, demand +some proof of a lover's devotion," I resumed, as coolly as I could, +"before yielding him their faith and fealty; but Mr. Gregory has given +me no evidence so far of the sincerity of his passion; I confess I find +it difficult, under the circumstances, to believe in its existence."</p> + +<p>He drew near to me, bent eagerly above me, then again concealed himself, +as it was wise for him to do, in shadow; and I could hear his hissing +breath, as it passed between his closed teeth—like that of a roused +serpent. The impulse of the man came near betraying him, but he rallied +and refrained from an exposure, as he would have supposed it, that must +have been fatal to his success as a lover, even if it confirmed his +power of possession.</p> + +<p>His tones, low and deep, were unmistakably those of suppressed passion +when he spoke again, and he had almost dropped his accent, so +wonderfully assumed.</p> + +<p>"When shall he come to you, and speak for himself? Let me take to him +some word of encouragement from your lips—for de love of whom—he +languishes—he dies! All other passions of his life have proved like +cobwebs, compared to this—avarice, ambition, revenge, all yield before +it! He is your slave! Do not trample on a fervent heart, thus laid at +your feet! Have mercy on this unfortunate!"</p> + +<p>"Strange language from a captor to a captive—mocking language, that I +find unendurable! Let Mr. Gregory remain where he is until the extreme +limit of the interval granted me by Basil Bainrothe—as breathing-space +before execution; and before hope expires in thick darkness—then let +him come and take what he will find of the victim of so much perfidy!"</p> + +<p>"You do not—you cannot—meditate personal violence, self-murder?" He +spoke in a voice of agony, that could scarcely be restrained from +breaking into its natural tones.</p> + +<p>"No—no—do not flatter yourselves that I could be driven by you—by +<i>any</i> one to such God-offending," I hastened to say, for I felt the +importance of keeping this barrier of disguise, of ice, between Gregory +and myself as a means of safety for a season, and determined that he +should not transcend it, if I could prevent an <i>exposé</i>, such as his +excited feelings made imminent. "My hopes are dead—say this to Mr. +Gregory—and I have reason to believe I should fare as well in his hands +as in any other's, knowing him—as I know him to be—" and I hesitated +here for a moment—"gentle, compassionate, faithful, where his feelings +are fairly enlisted."</p> + +<p>"He thanks you, through my lips, most lovely lady, for dis great proof +of consideration; dis' message, which I shall truthfully deliver, will +fill his heart with joy, long a stranger to his breast, for he has +feared your hatred."</p> + +<p>"Now go, Dr. Englehart, and let no one come to me without previous +warning, for I need all my strength to bear me up in this emergency. Nor +would I meet Mr. Gregory without due preparation—even of apparel," and +I glanced at my dress of spotted lawn, faded and unseasonable as it +seemed in the autumn weather. "I know his fastidiousness on this +subject, and from this time it ought to, it must be my study to try to +please him."</p> + +<p>Why was not the fate of Ananias or Sapphira mine after that false +utterance? Why did I triumph in the strength of guile that desperation +gave me, rather than sink abashed and penitent beneath it? And this was +the woman who had once lectured on duplicity and expediency, and deemed +herself above them!</p> + +<p>Bitter and nauseous as was this bowl to me, I drank it without a +grimace; so much depended on the measure of deceit—hope, love, honor, +life itself perhaps—for my terrors whispered that even such warnings as +those Gregory had given were not to be disregarded where there was +question of success or failure to Basil Bainrothe! But one alternative +presented itself—escape! Delay, I scarce could hope for, and, even if +granted, how could it avail me in the end? Those words—"He will make +you dead!" rang in my ears, and seemed written on the wall. They +confronted me everywhere. It was so easy to do this—so easy to repeat +what the papers had already told the world—so easy to confine me in a +maniac's cell under an assumed name, and by the aid of my own gold, and +say, "She perished at sea!"</p> + +<p>It would be to the interest of all who knew it, to preserve the secret, +except the poor ship's captain, and he had been a dupe, and would +scarcely recognize his folly, or, if he did, be the first to boast of +and publish it. Besides that, should the matter be inquired into, how +easy for Bainrothe to allege that my own family had sanctioned his +course to save my reputation! For innuendo was over on this disgraceful +subject. He had declared openly his base design.</p> + +<p>Years might elapse before the final exposition, years of utter ruin to +my prospects and my hopes. Wentworth might be married by that time, or +indifferent, or dead; Ernie too old to make the matter of a year or two +of consequence in the carrying out of the nefarious scheme to sustain +which it would be so easy to summon and suborn witnesses.</p> + +<p>All these possibilities represented themselves to me with frightful +distinctness; my mind became imbued with them to the exclusion of all +else—of reason even. I was literally panic-stricken, and nothing but +flight could satisfy my instinct, my impulse of self-preservation. I +must go, even if blown like a leaf before the gales of heaven; must fly, +if even to certainty of destruction. I had felt this necessity once +before, be it remembered, but never so stringently, so morbidly as now. +I was yielding under the agony, the anxiety incident to my condition; my +nervous system, too severely taxed, was breaking down, and it would +succumb entirely, unless relief came to me (of this I felt convinced), +before another weary month should roll away. Had I been imprisoned for a +certain term of years as an expiation for crimes, I think I could have +borne it better; but the injustice, the uncertainty of these proceedings +were more than I could sustain.</p> + +<p>I fell asleep, I remember, on the night of my interview with +Gregory—<i>alias</i> Englehart—to dream confusedly of Baron Trenck and his +iron collar, and the Princess Amelia and her unmitigated grief, and it +seemed to me that I was given to drink from a cup the poor prisoner had +carved (as memoirs tell us he carved and sold many such), filled with a +sort of bitter wine, by the man in the iron mask—so vividly did Fancy, +mixing her ingredients, typify the anguish of my waking moments, and +reproduce its anxieties, in dreams of night that could not be +controlled.</p> + +<p>When I awoke in the morning it was to lie quietly, and listen to the +doleful voice of Sabra, for such had been Dinah's Congo name, uplifted +in what she called a "speritual" as she cleaned the brass mountings of +the grate and kindled its tardy fires. With very slight alteration and +adjustment, this picturesque and dramatic Obi hymn is given in this +place, just as I jotted it down in my diary, thus imprinting it on my +memory from her own dolphin-like lips and bellows-like lungs. Her +forefathers, she informed me with considerable pride, had been +snake-worshipers, and she certainly inherited their tendency to treat +the worst enemy of mankind with respectful adoration.</p> + +<p>It served to divert my mind from its one fixed idea for a little time to +arrange this singular hymn, which, together with those she had given +voice to on the raft, proved her poetic powers. For Sabra assured me +that this gift of sacred song had come to her one day when she was +washing her master's linen, and that she had felt it run cold streaks +down her back and through her brain, and that from that time she was +uplifted to sing "sperituals" by spells and seasons. This, her longest +and most successful inspiration, I now lay before the reader:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">SABRA'S SPERITUAL.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">We's on de road to Zion,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We's on de paf' to Zion,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But dar's a roarin' lion,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">For Satan stops de way.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Oh! lef' us pass, ole Masta,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Oh! lef' us pass, strong Masta,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Oh! lef' us pass, rich Masta—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">It am near de break ob day!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">We's on de road to Zion,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We's on de paf' to Zion,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But wid his red-hot iron<br /></span> +<span class="i8">He bars de hebbenly gate!<br /></span> +<span>Oh! lef' us pass, ole Masta,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Oh! lef' us pass, kin' Masta,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Oh! lef' us pass, sweet Masta,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">For we is mighty late!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Does you hear de rain a-fallin'?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Does you hear de prophets callin'?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Does you hear de cherubs squallin'<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Wat's settin' on de gate?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Oh! lef us pass, ole Masta,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Oh! step dis side, kin' Masta,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Unbar de do', dear Masta,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">We <i>dar'</i> no longer wait!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Does you hear de win' a blowin'?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Does you hear de chickens crowin'?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Does you see de niggars hoein'?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">It am de break ob day!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Oh! lef us by, good Masta,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Oh! stan' aside, ole Masta,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Oh! light your lamp, sweet Sabiour,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">For we done los' our way!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">We'll gib you all our money,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We'll fotch you yams and honey,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We'll fill your pipe wid 'baccer,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">An' twiss your tail wid hay!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We'll shod your hoofs wid copper,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We'll knob your horns wid silber,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We'll cook you rice and gopher,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Ef you will clar de way!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">He's gwine away, my bredderin,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He's stepped aside, my sisterin,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He's clared de track, my chillun,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Now make de trumpets bray!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We tanks you kindly, Masta,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We gibs you tanks, ole Masta,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You is a buckra Masta,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Whateber white folks say!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_XII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>During these last days of my captivity, Mrs. Clayton was truly a piteous +sight to see—swathed in flannel and helpless as an infant, yet still +perversely vigilant as she had been in her hours of health, and +determined on the subject of opiates as before. I sometimes think she +feared to place herself wholly in my hands, as she must have been under +the influence of a powerful anodyne, and that, in spite of her +professions of confidence, and even affection, she feared me as her foe. +God knows that, had it been to save my own life, I would not have harmed +one hair of her viperish head, as flat on top as if the stone of the +Indian had been bound upon its crown from babyhood, yet full of brains +to bursting around the base of the skull.</p> + +<p>It was necessary for Dinah to be in constant attendance on my Argus, and +even to feed her, so helpless were her hands, with the mucilages which +now formed her principal diet, by the order of some celebrated physician +who wrote his prescriptions without seeing his patient, after the form +of the ancients, sending them daily through the hands of Mrs. Raymond. +Still those vigilant green eyes never faltered in their task, and lying +where—with the door opened between our chambers (as she tyrannically +required it to be most of the time) she could command a view of almost +every act of my life—I found her scrutiny more unendurable than when +she had at least feigned to be absorbed with her stocking-basket. +Ernie's noise, too, disturbed her, and I was obliged to keep him +constantly amused, for fear that her wrath might culminate in eternal +banishment.</p> + +<p>The days slid on—November had passed through that exquisite phase of +existence (which almost redeems it from the reproach cast upon it +through all time, of being <i>par excellence</i> the gloomy month of the +year), the sweet and balmy influences of which had reached us, even +through the walls of our prison-house, in the shape of smoky sunshine, +and balmy, odorous, and lingering blossoms, and was now asserting its +traditional character with much angry bluster of sleet, and storm, and +cutting wind. It was Herod lamenting his Mariamne slain by his own hand, +and making others suffer the consequences of his regretted cruelty, his +remorseful anguish. It was the fierce Viking making wild wail over his +dead Oriana.</p> + +<p>No more to come until another year had done its work of resurrection and +decay, the lovely Indian Summer slumbered under her mound of withered +flowers and heaps of gorgeous leaves, unheeding all, or unconscious of +the grief of her stern bridegroom.</p> + +<p>Cold and bitter and bleak howled the November blast, and ruthlessly +drove the sleet against the shivering panes, exposed without, though +shielded within by Venetian folding shutters, on that gray morning, when +a passing whisper from most unlovely and altogether unfaithful lips +nerved me paradoxically to sudden resolution.</p> + +<p>False as I knew old Dinah to be—almost on principle—still, I could not +disregard the possible truth of her passing warning, given in broken +whisper first as she poured out my tea and afterward prepared my bath.</p> + +<p>"Honey, don't you touch no tea nor coffee dis evening after Dinah goes +out ob here an' de bolt am fetched home; jus' make 'tence to drene it +down, like, but don't swaller one mortal drop, for dey is gwine to give +you a dose of laudamy"—nodding sagaciously and peering into the teapot +as she interpolated aloud; "sure enough, it is full ob grounds, honey! +(I heerd 'um say dat wid my own two blessed yers), for de purpose of +movin' you soun' asleep up to dat bell-tower (belfry, b'leves dey call +it sometimes)—he! he! he! next door, in dat big house, war de res' on +'em libs, de little angel gal too. You see, honey, der was an ossifer to +sarve a process writ about somebody here dis mornin', but dar was +something wrong about it, so dey all said, an' he is comin' to sarch de +house for you, I spec', to-morrow; for de hue an' cry is out somehow—or +mebbe it's me—he! he! he! (very faintly) an' dey is gwine to move you, +so dey says, to keep all dark, after you gets soun' asleep. But de +ossifer is 'bleeged to wait till mornin' (court-time, as I heerd 'em +say) comes roun' agin to git de <i>haby-corpy</i> fixed up right, an' dat's +how he spounded hisself. Wat does dat mean, honey?"</p> + +<p>"I can scarcely make you understand now, Dinah" (aside). "Don't ask +me—just go on, low, very low; how did you hear all this?" (Aloud) "More +cream, Dinah."</p> + +<p>"Wid my ear to de key-hole, in de study, war dey axed de ossifer. My +'spicions was roused by de words he 'dressed to me wen I opened de front +do', for you see, dat ole nigger watch-dog ob dern, dat has nebber a +good word for nobody, was gone to market, an' Madame Raymond she hel' de +watch, an' she sont me from de kitchen to mine de front-do' bell.</p> + +<p>"'Old dame,' says the ossifer (for so dey calls him), as pleasant as a +mornin' in May; 'has you a young gal locked up here as you knows ob? Now +tell what you choose, and don't be afraid of dese folks. Dis is a free +country for bofe black and white.'</p> + +<p>"Den I answered him straightforward like de trufe: 'Dar's nobody in de +house heah but wat you kin see for axin' for 'em, as far as I knows on. +Wat young gal do you 'lude to, masta?—Bridget Maloney, I spose, dat +Irish heifer wat does de chambers ebery mornin' and goes home ob +ebenin's. Ef you means her, she's off to church to-day, an' sleeps at +her mammy's house.'</p> + +<p>"'Does you feel willin' to swar to de trufe of your insertion, ole +dame?' he disclaims. 'I shall resist on dat'—fierce as a buck-rabbit, +holdin' up his right hand, an' blinkin' his little 'cute eyes.</p> + +<p>"Sartin an' sure I does when de right time is come,' I sez. 'Jes' take +me to de court-hous' ef you doubt Dinah's word compunctionable. I neber +hab bin in dat place yit since I was sold in Georgy on de block befo' de +high, wooden steps; but I knows it is more solemn to lie dar dan in +Methody meetin'-house.'</p> + +<p>"Den Mr. Bainrofe he cum out, hearin' de talk, in dat long-tailed, +satin-flowered gownd ob his'n, wid a silk rope tied roun' his waist, an' +gole tossels hangin' in front, jes' like a Catholic Roman or a king, an' +he sez, 'Walk in here, my fren, an' don't tamper wid my servants—dat +ain't gentlem'ly;' den he puts his han' on de ossifer's shoulder, an' +dey walked in together, an' I listened at de do', in duty boun', an' I +heerd him say, 'Plant a guard if you choose—do wateber you like—but, +till dat writ am rectified, you can't sarch through my house, for a +man's house is his castle here, as in de Great Britain, till de law +reaches out a long arm an' a strong arm.' Dat was wat Mr. Bainrofe +spounded to de ossifer, an' he 'peared 'fused-like an' flusterfied, for +I peeped fru de key-hole at 'em wen dey wus talkin'. 'An,' sez he, 'dis +heah paper does want de secon' seal, sure enough, since I 'xamine it, +wat you, is so 'tickiler 'bout; but dat can easily be reconstructified, +an' I'll be sartin sure to be here airly to-morrow morning. In de mean +while, my man, McDermot, shall keep de house in his eye, an' mus' hab de +liberty of lodgment.'</p> + +<p>"Den Mr. Bainrofe he say, 'Oh, sartinly—your man, McDermot, am welcome +to his bite an' sup, an' all he kin fine out'—an' he laughed, an' dey +parted, mighty pleasant-like, and den he called Mrs. Raymun' and Mass' +Gregory, an' I listened again. Dat's our colored way for reformation, +child. An' I heerd 'em—"</p> + +<p>"Dinah! Dinah! what are you muttering about—don't you hear Mrs. Raymond +knocking? Miss Monfort must be tired out of your nonsense. What keeps +you there so long?"</p> + +<p>"I'se spounding another speritual to Miss Mirainy, an', wen I gits +'gaged in dat way, I disregards airthly knockin'. I'se listenin' to de +angels hammerin' overhead, an' Mrs. Raymun' will hab to wait a +spell—he! he! he!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, go at once, Dinah, and open the door for Mrs. Raymond. I can write +your song down just as well another time," I remonstrated, taking up and +laying down my note-book as I spoke, so as to display my ostensible +occupation to the peering eyes of Mrs. Clayton (now sitting bolt upright +in her bed, looking like a Chinese bonze), for the purpose of sweeping +in my position definitively.</p> + +<p>"That will do, Dinah. Now go and get Miss Monfort's bath ready," I +heard my dragoness say, after a short whispered communication from her +early visitor. It was the idea, probably, to remove me, as well as +Dinah, while the plot was being unfolded, and my bath-room, with its +closed door, promised security from quick ears and eyes to the brace of +conspirators now plotting their final blow.</p> + +<p>Once in that belfry, and truly might the sense of Dante's famous +inscription become my motto for life: "Here hope is left behind."</p> + +<p>I covered my eyes as I recalled that dreary, dreadful prison-house of +clock and bell, into which I had clambered once by means of a movable +step-ladder, rarely left there by the attendant, in order to rescue my +famished cat, shut up there by accident. I recollected the maddened look +of the creature, as it flew by me like a flash, frightened out of its +wits, Mrs. Austin had said, by the clicking of the machinery of the huge +clock, and the chiming of the responsive bell. Both were silent now, and +there was room enough for a prisoner's cot in that lonely and dismantled +turret as there once had been for a telescope and its rest, used for +astronomical purposes at long intervals by my father and a few of his +scientific friends, but finally dismantled and put aside forever.</p> + +<p>I could imagine myself a denizen, at the will of Bainrothe, of that +weird, gray belfry, shut up with that silent clock, in company with a +bed, a chair, and table, denied, perchance, even the comfort of a stove, +for fear the flue might utter smoke, and, with it, that kind of +revelation, said proverbially to accompany such manifestations; denied +books, even writing-materials, the sight of a human face, and furnished +with food merely sufficing in quantity and quality to keep soul and body +together!</p> + +<p>Could I resist this state of things? Could I sustain it and retain my +reason? No, I felt that the picture my fancy drew, if realized, would +make me abject and submissive, change me to a cowardly, cringing slave. +I was not made of the right stuff for martyrdom, only for battle, for +resistance, and would put forth my last powers in the effort to save +myself from the unendurable trials before me, even if destruction were +the consequence. A pistol-ball in my brain would be preferable to what I +saw awaiting me, should Bainrothe succeed in his stratagem, as I doubted +not he would do, if determined on it. I should know freedom in its true +sense never again, if that night were suffered to pass without its +redemption, if that belfry once were entered.</p> + +<p>As carelessly as I could I followed Dinah to the bath-room, ostensibly +to direct the temperature of the water, but really to draw out from her +all that was possible while the mood of communication possessed her, on +the subject so vital to me and my welfare. Life and death almost were +involved in her revelations, and I hastened to wind in the clew while it +lingered in my hand; for I knew that she was an eccentric as well as a +selfish creature, and might suddenly see fit to withdraw or snap its +thread.</p> + +<p>"Now, tell me about McDermot, Dinah, what sort of a look has he? Is he +large or small, light or dark, and does he smoke a pipe'?"</p> + +<p>"He is a great big man, honey, wid red har an' sort ob chaney-blue eyes; +mos while, sometimes he rolls em up in his head, an' he smells mighty +strong of whisky. I tells you all; his bref mos knocked me down, but I +didn't see no pipe?"</p> + +<p>A discouraging account, truly; yet I persevered. It seemed my only hope +to enlist this man on my side, either through his sympathies or sense of +duty. I had no power to command his services on the side of his avarice. +The ring on my finger, the pledge of Wentworth's troth, a massive +circlet of chased gold, was all that remained to me in the shape of +valuables. I did not possess a stiver in that prison, nor own even the +clothes on my back.</p> + +<p>"Could you not take him a message from me, Dinah? It is his duty, you +know, to assist me; it is on my account, doubtless, he is placed here; +and hereafter I can reward him liberally, and you too. Just now, you +know, I am penniless."</p> + +<p>The woman stopped and looked at me, her small black irises mere points, +set in extensive, muddy-looking whites, not unfrequently suffused and +bloodshot.</p> + +<p>"I dun told the ossifer dar wus no one here you knows, answerin' to your +perscription."</p> + +<p>"But that was only a measure of safety for yourself; you surely do not +mean to take sides with my persecutors?"</p> + +<p>"I has nuffin at all to do wid it, at all," hunching her back; "I has +gib you far warnin' 'bout de laudamy an' der retentions, an' you mus' +fight it out yourself, chile! I is afraid to go one step furder; but de +debble sort o' tempted me dis mornin' to make a clean breast of der +doins. Ef you mentions it, do; I is retermined to reny ebbery word of +your ramification, and in dis here country a nigger's word, dey tells +me, goes jus' as fur as a pore white gal's, if not furder; 'sides dat, I +is gwine to swar favorable for my 'ployers, in course, at de +court-house—unless"—hesitating and leering in my face—"you sees, +honey, dey have not paid me yit—and mebbe dey won't, ef I displeases +'em, an' your gole watch is gone; an' den, Dinah would be lef' on de +shelf."</p> + +<p>"But I have other property, Dinah, other jewels, even. That watch was +very little compared to what I possess outside of these prison-walls, +and these possessions—"</p> + +<p>"Whar is dey, honey? 'a bird in dis han' am worf two dozen in a bush,' +as my ole masta used to say, wen de traders cum up to buy his corn an' +cotton, an' I always sawed de dollars come down mighty quick after dat +sayin' of his'n; for I used to watch round the dinin'-room pretty +constant an' close in dem days, totin' in poplar-chips an' corn-cobs for +kin'lin' an' litin' masta's long clay pipes—none ob de common sort, I +tells you—an' brushin' up de harf an' keepin' off' de flies, and so +forf. You see I was a little shaver in dem days, an' masta liked my +Congo straction, an' petted me a heap, an' I never seed the cotton-field +till my ole masta died; den dey put me out ob de house, because Mass +Jack Dillard's father—dat was my ole mistis's own step-brother's secon' +son—he 'cused me ob stealin' his gole pencil-case wrongfully—like I +had any use fur his writin' 'tensils!" (indignantly).</p> + +<p>"Dinah," I adjured, cutting short the stream of her narrative, "for +God's sake, see Mr. McDermot, and tell him of my situation! He shall +have a thousand dollars to-morrow, and you also shall have money enough +to buy your whole family, and bring them hither, if you will but assist +me to escape <i>this</i> night. Don't stand and look at me, woman, but act at +once, if you have a human heart. You must help me now, or never."</p> + +<p>"You mus' tink I's one ob de born fools, Miss Mirimy, to bl'eve all dat +stuff! Doesn't I know you loss all your trunks on de 'Scusco, an' wasn't +you a pore gal, teachin' white folks's chilluns fur a livin' before? I +has hearn all dat discounted since I come into dis 'stablishment. We +all knows as how teachers is de meanest kine of white trash gwine; +still, I specs you might'ly. You has been ob de quality; any nigger can +see dat wid half an eye open; an' you has got more sense in de end ob yo +little finger, ef you is crazy, dan all de res tied up in a bunch ob +fedders! Wat I does for you, chile, I does for lub ob yo purliteness" +(hesitating here). "You hasn't anoder ob dem gole-pieces anywhar, like +dat you gib me befo', has you? I'se bery bad off fur 'baccer, I is, +indeed, chile, an' de pay is mighty slow in dis house."</p> + +<p>"I have not a five-penny bit, Dinah, not one copper cent, if it were to +save my life or yours."</p> + +<p>"Is dat ring of yours good guinea gole, honey?" asked the mercenary +creature, leering at it. "It looks mighty bright and pretty, it does +dat! But mebbe its nuffin but pinchbeck, after all."</p> + +<p>"It looks what it is, Dinah"—and, after a moment's consideration, I +drew it from my finger. "If I give you this, will you promise to deliver +my message to McDermot faithfully?"</p> + +<p>"Sartain sure, honey, but tell me again wat it is; I forgits de small +patticklers."</p> +<br /> + +<p>"Get me my pencil and a scrap of paper, and let me write it down for him +to read; or no, this might involve observation, detection. I must rely +upon your memory, Dinah, which I have reason to know is good. Now, +listen and understand me. I promise to Mr. McDermot one thousand +dollars, to be paid down to-morrow morning, if he will help me to escape +to-night. And I promise you liberty for all of your family, and security +for yourself, if you will assist me, or even be silent, and let me go +without a word, without informing. Do you understand this, Dinah? If so, +repeat it to me low, yet distinctly."</p> + +<p>She obeyed me, evincing wonderful shrewdness in her way of putting the +affair, as she said she meant to do, in approaching McDermot.</p> + +<p>"And do you believe me, Dinah, now that I have promised so solemnly to +pay these rewards?"</p> + +<p>"Dats neider here nor dar, Miss Mirim, so dat McDermot bleves you, dat's +enough; wat dis chile bleves am her own business. Dem Irish am mighty +stupid kine ob creeturs; dey swallows down mos' any thing you chooses to +tell 'em."</p> + +<p>A voice without, uplifted at this juncture, as if it had long been +expending itself in ineffectual appeals, now summoned Dinah, harshly and +emphatically.</p> + +<p>The Lady Anastasia had departed, after a brief interview, and Mrs. +Clayton, unable to leave her bed, felt naturally anxious to ascertain +the cause of Dinah's prolonged ministry on her fellow-prisoner.</p> + +<p>I heard only the words, "De pattikalerest lady I ebber come acrost about +de feel of water, an' I is done tired out, I is—" The rest was lost, as +Dinah vanished from the apartment of the invalid. In the next moment, I +heard the key turned, and the outlet bolt drawn, and the growl of the +surly sable watch-dog without, who, in Mrs. Raymond's absence, +officiated as our jailer and Cerberus.</p> + +<p>It was early evening when Dinah returned, for she brought to us but two +meals at this season, the necessary food for Ernie being always ready in +a closet. She came ushered in, as usual, by Mrs. Raymond, who bore with +her on this occasion what she called savory broth, concocted, by her own +fair hands, for the benefit of her suffering parent. While Clayton was +employed in supping this mutton abomination, with a loud noise peculiar +to the vulgar, and Mrs. Raymond whispering inaudible words above the +bowl, I was ostensibly employed in tearing a croquet to pieces with my +fork, while I interrogated Dinah, in a low, even voice, between each +shred, unintelligible, I knew, in the next room, through its monotony, +on the success of her mission, and caught her muttered rather than +murmured replies eagerly in return.</p> + +<p>"Did you speak with him, Dinah?"</p> + +<p>"Dere was no use, honey; Bainrothe done bought him up. I peaked fru de +key-hole, and seen de gole paid down wid my own two precious eyes. Dar's +no mistake about dat," shaking her head dolefully. "All you has to do +now, honey, is to keep wide awake, an' duly sober, as ole mast a used to +say, 'frain 'ligiously from de tea or coffee, one or de udder, dat she +will offer you 'bout eight o'clock dis ebenin', or mebbe dey will send +it up by me, I can't say yit. Howsomever, you needn't to drink dat stuff +arter wat you knows; an' ef dey goes to take you forcefully off to de +belfry in de night-time, you kin skreech ebbery step ob de way. Dat's de +bes plan, chile, wat I kin project for your resistance; but I'se afeard +dar is no hopin' you, any way we can fix it."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Dinah, you have done your best, no doubt; don't sell my +ring, though; I shall want it back some day."</p> + +<p>"La, chile, I done 'sposed ob it aready, an' dey give me a poun of +backer an' a gole-piece fur it. It was good gole an' no mistake. I tells +you all," adding aloud, "an' now, Miss Mirim, I has tole you ebbery +syllable. I disremembered ob dat speritual ar. I is sorry you doesn't +like dese crockets, fur de madame made un wid her own clean red hands."</p> + +<p>"Say white hands, you old limb of Satan, or I shall be after you with a +mop," cried the laughing voice of Mrs. Raymond from the side of the sick +woman's bed, betraying at once how she had divided her attention. Then, +advancing into my chamber, she added, as coolly as though she had been +suggesting a visit to the theatre:</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Miss Monfort, for intruding, but I am about to ask you +whether it would be agreeable to you to be married to-night at ten +o'clock? This seems very sudden, but circumstances have forced the +arrangement on us all, and I assure you, from the bottom of my heart, it +is for both of us the preferable alternative of evils, as poor Sir Harry +Raymond would have said. Alas, my dear! shall I ever again have such a +helpmate as he was: so kind, so generous, so considerate"—and she +clasped and wrung her large, rosy hands. "A second marriage is often a +great sacrifice, and, in any case, a hazard, as I feel, as the time +draws near, very sensibly. But you seem confounded, and yet you must +have been somewhat prepared for this condition of things after your last +interview with Dr. Englehart?"</p> + +<p>The amazement of Dinah at this change in the programme, if possible, +exceeded my own. She did not understand, as I did, that it was a measure +prompted not only by humanity but self-interest, and that even the hard +heart of Basil Bainrothe preferred a compromise to such violence and +injustice as those he had otherwise meditated. Besides, what better or +more sensible mode than this could there be, according to his views, of +quashing the whole <i>esclandre</i>—quieting official inquiry as well as +public indignation? As the wife of Gregory, I should be, of course, a +<i>forçat</i> for life, walking abroad with the concealed brand and manacle, +afraid and ashamed to complain and acknowledge my condition, and +willing to condone every thing.</p> + +<p>I saw, at a glance, that my true policy was to feign a reluctant consent +to this proposition, and to determine later what recourse to take, as if +indeed any remained to me in that den of serpents. I would consider, as +soon as Mrs. Raymond was gone, what measures to pursue in order to elude +the vigilance of McDermot, the detective; and then, if all proved vain, +I could but perish! For I would have walked cheerfully over the burning +ploughshares of old, lived again through the hideous nightmare of the +burning ship and raft, nay, clasped hands with the spectre of La Vigne +himself, had it offered to lead me to purgatory, rather than have +married the knave, the liar, the half-breed Gregory!</p> + +<p>My resolution was soon made.</p> + +<p>"You will send me a suitable dress, I suppose," I said, calmly, "you +know I am a pauper here."</p> + +<p>"Yes, fortunately I have two almost alike. Which shall it be, a chally +or barege?"</p> + +<p>"It matters little, the color is all I care for. Let it be white; I have +a superstition about being married in colors."</p> + +<p>"So should I have, were this the first time, but, being a widow, I shall +wear a lavender-satin, trimmed with blond, made up for a very different +occasion."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that will be quite suitable. Well, the long agony is over at last, +and I am glad of it," and I drew a deep, free breath.</p> + +<p>"You will have to sign the papers before you come down-stairs. Mr. +Bainrothe told me to say this to you, and to ask you to have them ready; +they will be witnessed below with the marriage, and at nine, +<i>precisely</i>, expect me to appear with your gown, and make your toilet."</p> + +<p>"Will not Bridget Maloney do as well?" I asked, desperately. She, at +least, I thought, may be compassionate.</p> + +<p>"It is strange you should know of her at all, or she of you. It is that +girl, then, who has given us all this trouble," going to the bed, "when +I did not suppose she knew of her existence. Explain this, Clayton, if +you can."</p> + +<p>"I suppose Ernie, who is fond of her, has mentioned her name to Miss +Monfort; she thinks his mother is sick up-stairs, but knows no more, I +am certain; besides, it's Dr. Englehart's establishment—such things are +to be expected, and surprise no one of the attendants. Bridget is kept +busy among them all." The farce was to be kept up, it seemed, to the +end.</p> + +<p>Old Dinah was evidently quaking in her shoes, and began to see her +error, as she glanced reproachfully at me, but no further revelation +seemed to be expected. It was, indeed, to divert, partly, immediate +suspicion from one I still hoped to make my tool, that I mentioned the +Irish girl at all, or craved her presence, but I soon found how futile +in one instance was this trust. No sooner had Mrs. Raymond turned to +depart, than Dinah followed her, protesting against being locked up the +whole evening with the invalid, and begging leave to go out for an hour +or two on business of her own, which she declared important.</p> + +<p>"But Miss Monfort may need you in making her preparations," remonstrated +Mrs. Raymond, "and Clayton and Ernie will want your attention; besides, +fires will go down if not constantly mended, this cold evening."</p> + +<p>"Dar's plenty of coal in de box, an' de tongs, wid claws, wat Ernie is +so fond of handling ready and waitin' for dem wat's strong enough to use +dem if dey choose, an' tea in de caddy, an' de kittle on de trivet, jes +filled up, de brass toastin'-fork on de peg in de closet, 'sides bread +an' butter, an' jam, an' new milk on de shelf, an' I is 'bliged to go +anyway, case my ticklerest friend am dyin' ob de numony—I is jes got +word; but at nine o'clock" (and she looked maliciously at me) "percisely +Dinah'll be in dis pickin' patch—he! he! he! can't possumbly cum no +airlier."</p> + +<p>In a flash I saw the advantage her prolonged absence would give me, +unless, indeed, she had become my confederate, so I beheld her depart +with a feeling of relief which reacted in the next moment to positive +helplessness and terror as the bolt was drawn, behind her. What could I +do? What was there to be done? For a time I sat mute and crushed by +consideration; then casting myself on my bed I slept for half an hour, +the kind of slumber that confusion generates, and yet I woke refreshed, +calmed, comforted, and with a clearly-formed resolution and plan of +action. I rose and approached Mrs. Clayton, whose groans, perhaps, +aroused me, and, as I stood beside her bed, the clock in the dining +room-below struck six. I had still three hours for hope—for endeavor, +before the circle of flame should close hopelessly around me forever! +Three hours—were they not enough? Could I not compel them to +concentration?</p> + +<p>A cup of strong tea was hastily drawn and swallowed—another made for, +and administered by my hand to, Mrs. Clayton, with toast <i>ad libitum</i>—a +tedious process—and afterward Ernie's supper prepared and eaten—all in +less than half an hour. By seven he was in bed and asleep, and I had +taken my seat by Mrs. Clayton, for the purpose, apparently, of merciful +ministry to her condition—a piece of self-abnegation, as it seemed, and +as she felt it, scarcely to be expected on my blissful marriage-night.</p> + +<p>"I feel very sorry for you; you suffer so, Mrs. Clayton," I had said, as +I drew a chair beside her bed.</p> + +<p>"And I for you, Miss Monfort; our fate seems equally hard, but we must +bear it;" and she groaned heavily and closed her eyes, evidently in +great pain.</p> + +<p>"I have come to that conclusion, also, after a bitter struggle; physical +pain is not so easily borne, however; the body has little philosophy."</p> + +<p>"I thought all this was over," she rejoined, abstractedly, "when my +hands were drawn as you see them by neuralgia ten years since. But I did +not suffer as much then, I believe, as I do now; besides, I was younger, +happier, better able to bear pain."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is true; the old should be at rest," at least my sense of +justice whispered this; then, after a pause: "Does my rubbing ease your +shoulder, Mrs. Clayton?"</p> + +<p>"Somewhat—it is my head to-night, however, that troubles me chiefly. Be +good enough to press my temples. Ah, that is great relief! You are very +kind, Miss Monfort; yet, in reviewing the past, I hope you will not find +that I have been wanting to you in my turn. I trust we shall part in +peace and meet hereafter as friends. But you do not answer me."</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, I was thinking. This is a crisis, you know—this night +decides my fate for good or ill, all rests with merciful God!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all—of ourselves we are helpless, of course. It is a comfort to +me, I confess, as I lie here, to feel that I have never willingly +injured a fellow-being; to think that I—but, bless my soul, Miss +Monfort, you must not hold me down in that way! you would not, I trust. +But even if you did—no key this time, the door is fast without!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not for worlds! be still, the pain will pass. I have the gift, you +know, of soothing physical suffering. There, rest, you must not stir; +give yourself up to me, if you can—slumber will come."</p> + +<p>"It must not come—see, we are all alone!"</p> + +<p>Her glazing eye—her slower breathing began already to attest the +influence of the electric fluid, so potent in my veins, so wanting in +her own, both from temperament and disease, yet she resisted bravely and +long, and, even when her limbs were powerless, her spirit rebelled +against me in murmured words of defiant opposition; but this, too, +yielded finally to silence and to stupor; and she slept the deep, calm, +unmistakable slumber caused by magnetism.</p> + +<p>Then, again, I went through the experiment of the preceding night, and +strove to awaken her.</p> + +<p>"Get up," I said, and yet without willing that she should do so. "Mrs. +Raymond is here to show you her marriage-dress, and Mr. Bainrothe +calls."</p> + +<p>"Tell them to let me sleep; don't—don't—disturb me. I am so happy—so +peaceful. It is sweet, too, to think that she will be married at last. +Poor thing! it was no fault of hers, though—no fault. A young actress +is exposed to so many temptations, and it was better so—Harry Raymond's +mistress."</p> + +<p>That secret would never have escaped her devoted lips had she been able +to retain it.</p> + +<p>As carefully as the eyes of the dead are closed, I drew down her gaping +lids, and turned away. As I did so, the clock struck eight. Fatima never +listened more anxiously to the toll of parting time than I did that +night; but, alas for me! no sister Anne kept watch on the tower; no +brother hastened to arrest the sword. I was deserted by all save God and +desperation. One hour comprised my fate! Very quietly I closed the door +between Mrs. Clayton's room and my own. The bolt was on the other side, +so I could not secure my privacy, even for a moment, should she chance +to wake, or should Mrs. Raymond or Dinah return unexpectedly. As rapidly +as I could, I altered my dress—this time above my clothes—threw on the +black silk frock and mantilla prepared for me on shipboard, tied a dark +veil over my head, an old woolen scarf about my throat, provided for +Ernie's sore-throat and croup, and stood equipped for my enterprise.</p> + +<p>Neither bonnet, nor gloves, nor boots, did I possess—Mrs. Raymond's +loan having long since been condoned on behalf of some one else, and my +clothing, in my captivity, had been contrived to suit my circumstances.</p> + +<p>Wheeling the bedstead very gently on its noiseless castors a few inches +from the wall, I insinuated myself between them, and, sheltered by the +head-board, loosened again the slightly-adhering covering of paper that +concealed the door, and fitted into the key-hole the well-oiled wooden +key, which once before had proved its efficiency. It did not fail me +now, in my hour of extremity, for a moment later I had turned and +removed it from its socket, stepped forth upon the landing, and relocked +without the door of my prison; but, perhaps, with too much of nervous +haste, too little caution, for, to my inexpressible confusion, the +handle of the instrument of my emancipation remained in my hand, broken +off at the lock, and useless forever more.</p> + +<p>In delaying probable pursuit from within, I had cut off all possibility +of my own retreat in case of failure. My bridges were literally burned +behind me, and I had no alternative left between flight and detection. +And yet there was something in the situation that, inconsistently +enough, made me smile, albeit with a trembling heart.</p> + +<p>I shook my head drearily, as a couplet from Collins's "Camel-Driver," +with its strange appropriateness, irresistibly crossed my brain.</p> + +<p>Why is it that, in times like these, such conceits beset us, such +comparisons arise? Does the quality called presence of mind find root in +the same source that impels us to apt quotation?—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"What if the lion in his rage I meet?<br /></span> +<span>Oft in the dust I see his printed feet."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I gained fresh heart from that trivial diversion of thought, and stood +quietly contemplating alternately the hall below and that above (both of +which were visible from my place on the intermediate platform; all was +still in both of these wide corridors), to make sure of the safety of my +enterprise; and now, once more my foot was on the brink of those +mysterious stairs which led, I felt, to doom or to liberty. I commenced, +very cautiously, to descend them. The study-door at their foot was +closed, and all seemed silent within. The murmur of voices, and the +remote rattling of china proceeding from the ell behind the hall, +encouraged me to believe that on this bitter night the family was +concentrated, for greater comfort, in the supper-room.</p> + +<p>With my hand on the baluster, pausing at every step, I crept quietly +down the stairway; then, as if my feet were suddenly winged with terror, +I darted by the study-door, flew lightly over the carpeted hall, and +found myself, in another moment, secure within the small enclosed +vestibule into which the door of entrance gave. My worst misgivings had +never compassed the terrific truth. At this early hour of the evening, +not only was the front door locked, but the key had been withdrawn. This +was despair.</p> + +<p>My knees gave way beneath me, and I sank like a flaccid heap in the +corner, against one of the leaves of the small folding-door that divided +the arched vestibule from the long entry, and which was secured to the +floor by a bolt, while the other one was thrown back. Crouched in the +shadow, powerless to move or think, I heard, with inexpressible terror, +the door of the study open, and the voice and step of Bainrothe in the +hall, approaching me.</p> + +<p>Had he heard me? Would he come? Was I betrayed?</p> + +<p>I felt my hair rise on my head as these questions rang like a tocsin +through my brain, and I think, at that moment, I had a foretaste of the +chief agony of death.</p> + +<p>They were answered by Bainrothe himself, as he paused midway between the +study-door and my place of refuge; and again I breathed—I lived.</p> + +<p>"I was mistaken, 'Stasia, it is not he! the wind, probably; and that +marble looks so cold—so uninviting—shall not explore it. He has a key, +you know, and can come when he likes; for my part, I shall go in to +supper while the oysters are hot. Do as you like, though."</p> + +<p>"Had we not better wait? You know he is sure to come to-night, bad as +the weather is, on account of that affair. It was late when Wentworth +notified him."</p> + +<p>This was the rejoinder made from within the study, in which I +recognized the voice of Mrs. Raymond, clear and shrill.</p> + +<p>"Well, have it as you please. If you prefer courtesy to comfort, you +shall be gratified; but what's the use of ceremony with Gregory? He will +be here in twenty minutes, Mr. Bainrothe; but don't wait. I shall have +time to sup with him before I go up-stairs, you know. I believe I will +stay where I am until he comes, and finish taking in the poor thing's +wedding-gown. Well, any thing is better than removal to the belfry"—and +I thought I heard a sigh.</p> + +<p>"A matter of mere temporary necessity, you know, only she might have +frozen in the interval," said Bainrothe, jauntily, as he walked up the +hall to the door of the dining-room, which I heard him open and let fall +against its sill again. It closed with a spring, and in the next moment +the study-door was also softly shut, and all was still.</p> + +<p>My resolution was promptly taken. The folding leaves of the inner +door—that which divided the marble-paved vestibule from the carpeted +entry—against one of which I had been, leaning, I well knew worked to +and fro on pulleys which obeyed the drawing of a cord and tassel hanging +at one side, and thus they could readily be closed with a touch by any +one standing in the vestibule as they opened out into the hall on which +side was the latch and bolt. I recalled this quaint arrangement with a +quickness born of emergency, as one that might serve me now, and +speadily possessed myself of the tassel at the extremity of the +controlling cord. Thus armed, and praying inwardly for strength and +courage, and wherewith to carry out my scheme successfully, I took my +stand in one of the two niches (just large enough for the purpose) in +the door-frame, preferring, of course, that next to the lock, prepared +to darken the vestibule at the first approach of the expected guest (I +was afraid to do it before, lest attention might be called to it from +within the house), and make my escape by rushing past him ere he could +recover himself as he entered in the gloom.</p> + +<p>The hazard was extreme, the result uncertain, the effort almost +foolhardy, it may be thought; but the storm and darkness were in my +favor, and I was fleet of foot, as were not all of my pursuers, as far +as I could foresee who these might be.</p> + +<p>Momently I grew cooler, more determined, more calm, more desperate, more +regardless of consequences; and now the culmination of endeavor +approached in the shape of the sound of stamping feet upon the icy +platform of the steps which they had softly ascended, and the uncertain +fitting of a dead-latch key in its dark socket, the feeling for the knob +with half-frozen fingers, and finally the sudden and violent throwing +forward and open of the door into the darkened vestibule, for I had +drawn the cord at the first symptoms of Gregory's advent, which yet took +me by surprise. I had closed the inner doors, it is true, but paralyzed +with sudden terror I had taken no advantage of the darkness thus evoked, +and, as the tall form of the expected and expectant bridegroom staggered +in, literally blown forward by the tempest, with introverted umbrella, +and wet and streaming garments (dimly discerned in the gloom) that +brushed against me as he passed, I continued to stand transfixed to +stone in the niche I still occupied.</p> + +<p>The dream in which La Vigne had prophesied my failure flashed over me +like lightning, and my knees trembled beneath me, yet I still clung +spasmodically to the cord I held, and with such desperate force that, +when Gregory pushed against the door, he believed it latched within, and +so desisted from further effort.</p> + +<p>"Dark as Erebus," he muttered, "and on such a night! Confound such +hospitality! I suppose I must go back and ring;" and in pursuance of +this idea he again suddenly opened the front-door, which, swinging +violently back as he turned his face within, once more afforded me the +golden opportunity so lately lost. Quick as thought I dropped the cord I +held, and in the sudden gust the leaves of the inner door, thus +released, flew open and impelled my foe irresistibly forward. With his +flapping coat and hat he drifted into the lighted hall before the +driving blast, and, roused to instantaneous action, I slid from the +niche I filled to the icy platform without, and swift and silent as a +spectre sped down the sleety steps to the outward darkness. I was free!</p> + +<p>A moment after, I heard the door slammed heavily after me, while I +crouched by the gate-post for concealment.</p> + +<p>Rising up, I mutely blessed the friendly portal that made me an outcast +in the storm-swept streets from which the very dogs shrank terrified.</p> + +<p>One moment, one only, I paused as I passed by my father's gate-way, +crowned with stone lions that glimmered in the gloom. The force of +association and of contrast shook me with emotion—I could not enter +there. My own roof afforded me no shelter from the biting blast; but +squares away, with a comparative stranger, I must seek (if I ever gained +it on that dreadful night) a refuge from the storms and sure protection +from my foes.</p> + +<p>I moved rapidly along toward the tall street-lamp that diffused a dim +and murky light from its frost-crusted lantern at the corner of the +square, and before I reached it I encountered the first danger of my +undertaking.</p> + +<p>Protected, fortunately, by the shadow of the high stone-wall near which +I walked rapidly, I met Dinah, so nearly face to face that the whiff of +the pipe she was smoking was warm upon my cheek. Wrapped in her old +cloth shawl and quilted hood, she muttered as she went, and staggered +too, I thought, though here the northeast wind, that swept her along +before it, might have been at fault, while, blowing in my face, it +retarded my progress.</p> + +<p>I passed her unchallenged, but, glancing back just as I turned the +corner, I became aware that she was retracing her steps. I fled rapidly +on until I reached the shelter of a friendly nook between two houses +(well remembered of old), when, turning again to gaze, I saw her +standing immovable as a statue beneath the lamp-post, evidently looking +in the direction I had taken. There seemed no way of escape now save in +persistent flight. My place of concealment might be too readily detected +by a cautious observer, a savage on the war-trail. Should Dinah herself +pursue me, I knew my speed would distance her; but, that prompt pursuit +of some kind was imminent, I knew from that moment.</p> + +<p>My aim was to reach the house of Dr. Pemberton, no intermediate one +presenting itself as that of an acquaintance of whom I could ask +shelter, and belief in the truth of my assertions. Of this house I +remembered the position with tolerable accuracy. It formed one, I knew, +of a long block of buildings extending from one street to another, and +was near the centre.</p> + +<p>I had been there only on rare occasions, when his niece abode with him, +for he dwelt ordinarily in widowed solitude, although, our intimacy was +that of relatives rather than of patient and physician.</p> + +<p>For this desired goal I strained every nerve, every muscle, every +faculty, on that never-to-be-forgotten night of bitter, freezing cold, +and driving sleet and blast, which seemed to proclaim itself, in every +howling gust, "The wind Euroclydon!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_XIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>At first, excitement and terror winged my feet; but even these refused, +after I had gone a few squares, to do their friendly office.</p> + +<p>Bareheaded, but for a filmy veil, soon thoroughly drenched through; +barehanded and almost barefooted, for my thin silk slippers and +stockings formed not, after my first few steps, the slightest impediment +to wet or cold, I felt that I must perish by the wayside. The sleety +storm drove sharply in my face, rendered doubly sensitive to its rigor +by long absence from outward air. My insufficient clothing clung closely +about me, freezing in every fold, and I glided rather than walked along +the icy pavement, scarcely lifting my stiffened feet, or having power to +do so.</p> + +<p>One stern hope—it almost seemed a forlorn one—now possessed me to the +exclusion of all else; one prayer trembled on my quivering lips—that I +might reach my destination, if only to tell my story and drop dead a +moment after.</p> + +<p>Yet I think, in spite of this resolve—this prayer—that, had a friendly +door been opened on the way, an area even emitting light and warmth, I +should have instinctively turned aside and, at any risk, pleaded for +shelter, both from storm and foeman.</p> + +<p>In those days that seem far back in the march of luxury, because of +the vast impetus of human momentum, stores were closed early, and the +primitive family tea-table still existed which marked the assemblage of +the household around the evening comet and hearth.</p> + +<p>I remember the closed, inhospitable look of the houses past which I +sped—the solid wooden shutters, then universal, which, closed from the +wayfarer every evidence of internal life, and the cold sheen of the +icy-white marble steps, made visible by dim lamp-light.</p> + +<p>I gained a street-corner not very far, as it seemed to me, from my place +of destination. Yet, until I glanced across the way, I was uncertain, +and, but for the friendly refuge this opportunity presented, I think I +must have faltered and perhaps fallen and frozen to death on the +road-side.</p> + +<p>To my bewildered and disordered brain, Aladdin's palace seemed suddenly +to rise before me in that wilderness of sealed houses and uninhabited +streets; for, as I have said before, the very dogs had crept away that +night into secure corners, and not even a pariah chimney-sweep, with his +dingy blanket drawn close around him, nodded and dozed by a watch-box or +slept on a door-step.</p> + +<p>I crept across the space that divided me from this cynosure of warmth +and luxury, as a poor, draggled moth might do, to bask in the +revivifying light of an astral lamp, attracted beyond my power to +resist, to pause before the resplendent window, rich in green and purple +and amber rotund vases, whose transparent contents were set forth and +revealed by fiery jets of gas, toward which I feebly stretched my +half-frozen fingers.</p> + +<p>There was a splendid vision, also, of goldfish, in glass globes, jars of +leaden rock-work, baskets of waxen fruits and flowers, crystal bottles +containing rose and amber essences; but, above all, there was +light—there was heat.</p> + +<p>With one greedy, insatiate gaze my eyes swept in the details of this +mimic Eden, and, in another moment, my hand turned the knob of the +ground-glass door near the window, and I found myself in paradise!</p> + +<p>Rest, shelter, heat—these must I have or perish, and, but for the +timely refuge of this thrice-blessed apothecary's shop, I might have +left this retrospect unwritten!</p> + +<p>I staggered to a chair, and seated myself, unbidden, by the almost +red-hot stove, and cowered above it for a time, oblivious of all else.</p> + +<p>Then I looked timidly around me.</p> + +<p>The master of this Eden was standing, at the moment when he first caught +my eyes, holding up a bottle, scrutinizingly, between his face and the +light, one of many of the same sort that a lad, in a long, white apron, +was engaged in washing.</p> + +<p>The odor of the various drugs and essences over which he presided formed +an aromatic atmosphere singularly suggestive of incense, as did his +costume, that of a high-priest of the temple; but, very soon discarding +a gray-linen cape or talma, worn for the protection of his speckless +coat, and tossing a bundle of corks rather disdainfully to his +assistant, the head of the establishment came politely forward, standing +on the other side of the stove, with clasped hands, expectantly.</p> + +<p>"You will tell me your errand here when you are quite ready," he said, +kindly. "Do rest and warm yourself first. The stove has a narcotic +tendency when one has just come out of cold like this! The thermometer +has fallen twenty degrees since noonday; but that is only half the +trouble. Hem! This sleet and wind are beyond any former experience of +mine at this season."</p> + +<p>I heard the words of the speaker as if bound in a dreadful dream, but +they were clearly understood, and now I made an effort at utterance, but +failed, until after repeated endeavors, to enunciate one word. Yet I +noted distinctly, and even with a nice discrimination of scrutiny, the +red-haired and bright-eyed man, portly and somewhat pompous-looking, +with his plump hands folded over his vest, who stood before me, looking +pityingly down on my suffering face.</p> + +<p>After a time I gathered up my forces sufficiently to inquire, being +quite thawed and comforted by the reviving heat of the apartment, how +far it might be to the house of Dr. Pemberton, who resided in the block +of houses known as Kendrick's Row, on Maple Street.</p> + +<p>"It is nearly a square and a half, miss, by street measurement just now, +as, on account of changes, this is impassable," was the prompt reply. +"Scarcely half a square by the alley that runs from my back-door, after +a short turn, straight through to Maple Street; and, if it is only +question of a message, I can send Caleb, so that you may await the +coming of the doctor in comfort, in this emporium. He always uses his +gig for night-visits, and will, no doubt, be happy to carry you home in +his wolfskin."</p> + +<p>"Thanks—there is no question of a medical visit. I have very important +business with him. I must see him in his own house. I will go without +further delay. But, perhaps"—lingering a moment—"you would be so good +as to suffer Mr. Caleb to show me the short way you spoke of? I shall +not mind going through the alley at all."</p> + +<p>I rose prepared to depart, and glanced beseechingly at Caleb, who laid +down his bottle uncorked, and folded his arms with an approving knightly +bow, unperceived by his employer.</p> + +<p>"We have just had a similar inquiry as to Dr. Pemberton's locality; I +mean," said the master of the emporium, without replying to my request, +"on the part of a very distinguished-looking personage—I might say, +well got up in the fur and overcoat line—and, had you come in a few +moments earlier, you might have had his escort; or perhaps you are on +his track now—probably one of his party?" hesitatingly. "No! Well, it +is a strange coincidence, to say the least—very strange—as the doctor +is so well known hereabouts. As to going out in the storm again, I have +my misgivings, miss, for you, when I look at the flimsiness of your +attire and its drenched condition. I can't see, indeed, how a +delicate-looking lady like yourself ever held her own against this +terrific wind. Eolus seems to have lost his bags! But, perhaps you had +an escort to the corner?"</p> + +<p>"No—no—no—I came quite alone! Oh, for pity's sake, put me on my way +and let me go! My business is most urgent!" I hesitated—my heart sank. +Had Bainrothe been before me to spirit the doctor away by some feigned +message of need, of distress, to which no inclemency of weather could +close that benevolent medical ear? And did he lie in wait for me on the +way?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I had, after all, better go alone," I continued; "it might be +too great an inconvenience"—and I moved toward the ground-glass door.</p> + +<p>"Not if you will accept my services, miss," said Caleb, timidly, pushing +away the remaining corks as he spoke, and glancing furtively at his +master.</p> + +<p>"How often must I remind you, Caleb Fink," said the owner of the +emporium, "that your sphere is circumscribed to your duties? Attend to +those phials, and drain them well before you bottle the citrate of +magnesia. The last was spoiled by your unpardonable carelessness. I have +not forgotten this!"</p> + +<p>And again, with a deprecatory look at me, Caleb Fink subsided into a +nonentity.</p> + +<p>"Truly has the great and wise Dr. Perkins remarked that 'the women of +America are suicidal from the cradle to the grave!' I will give you one +of his pamphlets, miss, to take away with you, and you will be convinced +that slippers are serpents in disguise in winter weather! The wooden +shoes of Germany rather! Ay, or even the <i>sabot</i> of France! You must not +stir another step in those. Be seated, pray, and I will not detain you +long, while I procure a substitute or protection for such shams, worth +nothing in such Siberian weather.—Caleb, a word with you;". and he +whispered to his apprentice, who glided away, to return in a trice with +a pair of India-rubber overshoes, into which benign boats he proceeded +to thrust my unresisting feet, as I stood leaning on the counter; after +which a muffler was tied about my ears, and a heavy honey-comb shawl +thrown over my shoulders by the same expeditious hands.</p> + +<p>"Could you be always as spry, Caleb! Your gloves now—I shall need my +own"—and a pair of stalwart knitted mits were forthwith drawn over my +passive hands, in which my fingers nestled undivided and warm.</p> + +<p>"Now you look something like going for the doctor! My overcoat, +Caleb—gloves—fur-cape—cane! All hanging near the bed. There, we are +ready now for old Borealis himself, if he chooses to blow! But I +forget—God bless me, you are as pale as the ghost of Pompey, at +Philippi!—Caleb, the Perkins elixir—a glass!—Now, young lady, just +take it down at a gulp. It is the only alcoholic preparation that +Napoleon Bonaparte Burress ever suffered to pass his temperate lips. +Father Matthew does not object to it at all, I am told, on emergencies. +It may be had at this repository very low, either by the gross or +dozen"—speaking the last words mechanically, and he tendered me a small +glass of some nauseous, bittersweet, and potent beverage, that coursed +through my veins like liquid fire.</p> + +<p>"Thank you; it is very comforting," I gasped, and, setting the glass +down on the counter, I covered my face with my hands and burst into +tears.</p> + +<p>The whole forlornness of my outcast and eleemosynary condition rushed +over me simultaneously with the flood of warmth caused by the Perkins +elixir, which nerved me the next moment for the encounter with the +elements.</p> + +<p>I saw the kindly master of the emporium turn away, either to conceal his +own emotion or his observation of mine, and Caleb stood trembling and +crying like a girl before me.</p> + +<p>I had shrunk, it may be remembered, from the description Sabra gave me +of McDermot, when I heard of his red hair and "chaney-blue eyes;" but to +this red-haired, hazel-eyed man I yearned instinctively, for there are +moral differences discernible in the temperament greater than any other, +and, when a red-haired man is tender-hearted, he usually usurps the +womanly prerogative, and gushes.</p> + +<p>But Caleb's sympathy touched me even more.</p> + +<p>"We will go now, if you please," I said, recovering myself by a strong +effort, and Napoleon B. Burress mutely tendered me his stout, +overcoated arm. "The short way you mentioned—let us go that way, if not +disagreeable to you," I pleaded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; it will be an absolute saving of time to me; but, I warn you, +the alley is narrow and dark!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind; I prefer the short cut, be it what it may. Time is every +thing to me."</p> + +<p>We passed through the shop, threaded a narrow entry, opened a back-door, +which gave upon a strip of paved yard, leading in turn to a back-gate, +through which we emerged into a dark and dirty-looking alley.</p> + +<p>But first the work of unlocking a padlock, which confined a chain, had +to be effected, and, while Mr. N.B. Burress was thus unfastening his +back-gate preparatory to egress, I stood gazing back, Eurydice-like, in +the place I had left, for the doors of the long entry stood open, +revealing the shop beyond and its illuminated window.</p> + +<p>Standing thus, I saw, as through a vista and in a perfect ecstasy of +terror, the ground-glass shop-door open, and two well-known forms in +succession block its portals—those of Gregory and Bainrothe! Would +Caleb send them on our track, or would the better part of valor come to +his aid and save me from their clutches?</p> + +<p>A thought occurred to me. "Mr. Burress," I said (I had retained his name +with its remarkable prefix), "will you not lock the gate outside? I can +wait patiently until you secure your premises—and—and bring away the +key."</p> + +<p>"I had meant to leave it here until my return, but you are right," +speaking indulgently. "I suppose burglars are abroad on nights like +this," and he quietly relocked the alley-gate. "You are very +considerate," he said, dryly, after we had gone a few yards in profound +silence, "but had I not better return for a lantern?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not for worlds! Faster—faster, Mr. Burress, and Heaven will reward +you! Never mind the stones—the snow—the mud—so that we get there +first! Yes, I see where the lane turns; I see very well in the +dark—never fear—only do not delay—I am so glad you locked the +alley-gate. They cannot come that way."</p> + +<p>"Of whom are you afraid, poor young lady? Nobody would harm you, I am +sure; such a gentle, tender thing as you seem to be!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! Fiends are on my track! Don't let them get possession of me +again, Mr. Burress. I am pursued—yes—faster—faster!"</p> + +<p>"But what has startled you, poor thing, since we left the Repository? +You seemed quite calm after the Perkins elixir—and those tears. Ah! I +understand!" and he coughed several times significantly. The doctor will +set all right, I suppose, when I give you into his hands. I am glad I +came with you myself—courage, we shall soon be there!"</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes—he is my only hope! I will explain all when we are safe with +him. It is not as you think! I have no strength now. Don't question me +further, it exhausts me to talk. Just drag me along."</p> + +<p>And silently and valiantly did he betake himself to his task. The +noisome alley was threaded, and again we emerged into the sleety, +lamp-lit street, a few doors from the corner of that block, in the +centre of which Dr. Pemberton resided.</p> + +<p>As we approached the friendly threshold, the exact situation of which +was familiar to my companion, he pointed it out triumphantly with his +stick.</p> + +<p>"We shall soon be there," he reiterated, "no need for hurry now." But +as he spoke I saw a carriage turn the corner we were facing, and again I +urged on my lagging escort to his utmost speed. I ran up the sleety +steps in advance of him, and rang the bell with convulsive energy. Its +summons was answered promptly, but not a second too soon, for, as the +door opened to admit me, the carriage paused before the door, and two +men leaped from it, one of whom, the taller, thrusting Burress aside, +rushed up the steps after me with outstretched arms.</p> + +<p>I had found refuge in the vestibule, and slammed the door in his +face—closing, as it did, with a spring-lock—before he reached the +platform. Then turning to his companion, he fled down to the street +again, with the cry that reached my ear distinctly, of "Baffled, by +God!" on his profane lips, and the twain drove off as rapidly as they +had come.</p> + +<p>A moment later a feeble ring at the door, and a voice from without, +assuring the inmates that it was only N.B. Burress, and conjuring them +not to be alarmed, caused him to be admitted at once by the house-maid, +and shown into the same small front study into which she had conducted +me to await the doctor's appearance.</p> + +<p>"What name shall I give? The doctor is engaged," said the house-maid, +lingering.</p> + +<p>"None at all, merely let me know when he is ready to see me. I am tired +and cold, and can wait patiently by this good fire."</p> + +<p>"It may be some time, miss; would you like a cup of hot coffee, you and +this gentleman? The doctor has just had his supper, and there is a pint +or more left in the urn."</p> + +<p>"Thanks—nothing could be more welcome," and the house-maid disappeared.</p> + +<p>"That is the way of this house—patients are always entertained, if in +need of refreshment," said Mr. Burress, advancing to the chimney, while +he rubbed his hands in a self-gratulatory manner, then expanded them +before the bright glare that filled every pore with warmth.</p> + +<p>I was tremulous, and silent, and half exhausted, and he seemed to take +this in at a friendly glance, for he made none of those inquiries that I +knew were burning on his inquisitive lips; but after a few moments of +further enjoyment before the grate, and having duly turned himself as on +a spit, so as to absorb every ray of heat possible, he betook himself to +an arm-chair and a book, near the drop-light on a corner table, the soft +rustling of the turning leaves of which had a most soothing effect on my +nerves.</p> + +<p>"I shall only stay a few minutes," he said, apologetically. "I wish, +however, to see you safe in Dr. Pemberton's hands before I leave you, as +a sort of duty, you know, you being a charge of mine, and should you +need further escort—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, kindly; you have surely had enough trouble on my account +already."</p> + +<p>"Not a particle—only a pleasure, miss; but the push I got from your +pursuer upset me on the pavement and made sparks fly out of my eyes, +and, before I could gather myself up, they were back again in the +carriage and off. You will have to give me the mans name, miss—you +will, indeed, on my own account, when all your fatigue and fright are +over. Such favors are generally returned by me with compound interest."</p> + +<p>"Oh, be thankful you have not a compound fracture, Mr. Burress, and let +the fellow go. He is beneath contempt. But I shall not be satisfied +until Dr. Pemberton tells me himself that you are uninjured."</p> + +<p>"A lump as big as a potato—that's all, miss; not worth minding, I +assure you;" and he raised his hand to his occipital region. "An +application, before retiring to bed, of 'Prang's Blood and Life +Regenerator,' will make all right again. An astonishing remedy, miss, +which no family should be without, and which may be obtained cheaply by +the gross or dozen at my emporium. You have heard of Hercules Prang?"</p> + +<p>These were the last words I heard distinctly from the lips of Napoleon +B. Burress; nor were they answered, even by the brief "Never" which +might have proclaimed my ignorance of the very existence of that +demi-god of charlatanry, who, for the benefit of suffering mankind, had +condescended to compel his genius into the shape of a "revivifying +balsam."</p> + +<p>I had, with the aid of the house-maid, divested myself of my wet +overshoes and wrappings before the advent of my companion, and had +already ensconced myself in a deep Spanish chair, that stood invitingly +and with extended arms in one corner of the fireplace, when he advanced +to place himself on the rug for a general roasting.</p> + +<p>It was precisely twenty minutes past ten, Mr. Burress told me later, +when he detected, by stealing on tiptoe to my chair, and bending above +me, that I was sound asleep, and the mantel clock was on the stroke of +eleven when I awoke.</p> + +<p>In one corner of the room sat a stern statue of Silence, in the shape of +N.B. Burress, watching my repose, and from the adjoining office came the +murmur of voices that proved that the long interview between Dr. +Pemberton and his patient was still in progress.</p> + +<p>At this moment, one of the walnut-leaves of the small folding-door, +that formed a communication between the study and office of the good +physician, swung itself gently on its noiseless hinges, into the +position distinguished in description as "slightly ajar," and thus +remained fixed, after a fashion that spiritual mediums might have been +able to account for, on supernatural principles.</p> + +<p>The low murmur of voices then readily resolved itself into shaped words +and sentences, and, but for my deep languor, and the delightful sense of +security that possessed me, I should have risen and closed the obliging +door, to shut out unintentional communications.</p> + +<p>As it was, I lingered and listened, as one might do to the dash of +waves, or the rustling of branches, until suddenly the tones and meaning +of the principal interlocutor caused me to rise to my loftiest sitting +posture, and clasp the arms of the chair I occupied, while the strained +ear of attention drank in every syllable of the remainder of the +narrative, evidently drawing near its close.</p> + +<p>The low monotony of a continued discourse pervaded the voice, the manner +of the speaker, the thread of whose story was no longer interrupted, as +before, by the comments or questions of his companion, intent upon the +vital interest of the tale.</p> + +<p>"So I turned back at Panama," said the <i>raconteur</i>, probably, of a +series of adventures, "and abandoned my project altogether. The man +spoke with an air and tone of truth: the sketch was unmistakably hers. +The whole thing was full of <i>vraisemblance</i>, so to speak, and bore me +completely off my feet. The initials beneath the sketch of Christian +Garth were identical with her own.</p> + +<p>"He referred me to Captain Van Dome for confirmation of the saving of +the few remaining passengers on the raft, and her presence in the ship +Latona, together with that of the child and negress.</p> + +<p>"I have seen Captain Van Dorne, and he admits the part he played, on the +representation of Bainrothe; and, through the evidence of a newspaper +advertisement, of the previous autumn, which had met his eye, to satisfy +the puerile scruples of this really good but ignorant man—going no +deeper than the surface in his code of morals—they were obliged to tear +out the record of their names, and take refuge temporarily in the +long-boat, before he would swear to Miriam, in her state-room, that +Bainrothe was not on board.</p> + +<p>"As to the <i>habeas corpus</i> which would have gone into effect to-day, and +which the wretch managed to defeat by requiring an error to be corrected +in the writ, that no guiltless man would have observed, I fear sometimes +it will prove ineffectual if we wait for the morrow. My plan was to go +at midnight with a party of my friends to the house of this miscreant, +and take the law in my own hands; but, in this I could not stir, for the +reasons I have given you. Besides that, it was risking too much—her +safety and reputation.</p> + +<p>"She cannot be secretly removed, of course, for we have a detective in +the house able and strong, besides the old well-paid negress, both of +whom—"</p> + +<p>"Have played you false," I interrupted, rising impetuously, and throwing +back the loose leaf of the door, "and I am here to tell you this. O +friends, have you forgotten me?"</p> + +<p>And, rushing forward, I threw an arm around each of those dear necks, +weeping alternately on the shoulder of one and the other of the two men +I loved best in the world, and who, for some moments, sat silent and +amazed!</p> + +<p>Then Wentworth rose mutely, and clasped me to his breast, and silence +prevailed between us. It comprehended all.</p> + +<p>I think, when we meet again in heaven, after that severance which is +inevitable to those who wear a mortal shape, we may feel as we did then, +but never before! The rapture—the relief—the spiritual +ecstasy—surmounting, as on wings of fire, pain, fatigue, suspense, +anguish of mind and body—were in themselves lessons of immortality +beyond any that book or sage has issued from midnight vigil or earthly +tabernacle.</p> + +<p>Not until a new order of things is established, and we have done with +tribulation, tears, and death, shall we again know such sensations; nor +is it indeed quite certain that human heart and brain could twice +sustain them here below!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_XIV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Reaction came at last! Life is full of bathos as well as pathos. An hour +later, we four companions in the rejoicing over this redemption, if +chiefly strangers before, were partaking cheerfully together of hot +coffee and oysters. The services of Mrs. Jessup had been called in—the +doctor's excellent old Quaker house-keeper—and, amid many "thous" and +"thees," she had served us a capital and expeditious supper.</p> + +<p>No one enjoyed the festive occasion more than Mr. Burress, who, on the +point of stealing lightly away after witnessing from the front study the +scene of recognition and meeting, had been arrested on the threshold by +Dr. Pemberton himself.</p> + +<p>Either to allow a full explanation between two long-parted lovers, or to +conceal his own emotion and get back his customary calm, our dear doctor +had seen fit to step into the front-study for a few minutes, and he +checked Mr. Burress, with his hand on the door knob, with some very +natural questions as to the mode and time of our meeting, and ended by +requiring his presence at the slight collation he ordered at once.</p> + +<p>The part the worthy apothecary had played' in my closing adventure; the +certainty that to his zeal and promptness I owed my immunity from +further captivity—for, had I walked around the square in the usual +way, the men at watch from the carriage-windows must have espied and +seized me—or, had we loitered in the alley, and arrived a moment later +at the central house of Kendrick Row, there is no doubt that they would +have been there to await my arrival, nor could Mr. Burress have saved me +from their clutches—the whole thing seemed especially providential; +but, as the efficient medium of such mercy, Napoleon B. Burress did, +indeed, seem to all present crowned with a perfect nimbus of glory. Dr. +Pemberton led him back to my presence with his arm encircling his +shoulder; Captain Wentworth shook his hand mutely but long, with his +eyes dimmed with tears, and words that found imperfect utterance, at +last compelling him to strange silence.</p> + +<p>"I thank you, I bless you," he said, at last. "I do not hope to be able +to return such services, but, what I <i>can do</i>, command."</p> + +<p>"And I to think that she was crazy all the time; escaped from the great +asylum a mile away. Sweetest creature, too, I ever saw in my life; and +Caleb thought so, too."</p> + +<p>The speaker brushed a briny drop or two from his eyes with the back of +his hand as he spoke; then, smiling archly, asked:</p> + +<p>"Can you forgive me, miss, for belying you so, even in thought? You see, +I have made a clean breast of it now; but such a pity!"</p> + +<p>"Forgive you?" And I advanced toward him, and put both my hands in one +of his large white extremities, and, before I knew what I was doing, I +had stooped over and kissed it, and was bathing it with my tears.</p> + +<p>"O miss! this is too much; it is, indeed!" said Napoleon B., blushing +to the roots of his hair, and withdrawing his hand with a +slightly-mortified air; "you nonplus me completely."</p> + +<p>"You see she was too much overcome, Mr. Burress, to speak otherwise than +this," said Wentworth, drawing me to his bosom. "You must honor this +expression of feeling as I do."</p> + +<p>"O sir! it is the greatest honor I ever received in my life; and she, +poor thing, like Penelope, tangled up in a web so long, and free at +last! Well, it is a great joy to me to think I helped a little to cut +the ropes."</p> + +<p>"Helped! Why, I owe every thing to you. Listen," and then as briefly as +I could I recounted the trials in store for me that very night—the +compulsory marriage, or the removal to the belfry-tower—one or the +other inevitable, and either of which must have made the proposed rescue +of the following day, on the part of Captain Wentworth and his friends, +in one sense or the other unavailing. As the wife of Gregory, or as the +prisoner of the turret, I should in one case have been morally, and in +the other physically, dead or lost forever!</p> + +<p>Mutely, and tearfully even, was my skill in setting forth the magnitude +of the wrong, from which Mr. Burress had been instrumental in saving me, +acknowledged by my audience, not excepting Jenny the house-maid, who, +arrested on the threshold, stood wiping her eyes with her neat cotton +apron in token of sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Caleb will be wondering what has become of me, and tired out of +watching if I don't go home at once," said Mr. Burress, after his +emotion had subsided, and accepting gracefully the civic crown with +which he had been metaphorically rewarded. Mine was in store, but how +could he dream of this?</p> + +<p>A statue of the Greek Slave, a copy made by a master-hand, soon adorned +his window, and his bride wore pearls of price, the joint gift of Miriam +and Wardour Wentworth, a twelvemonth later, when a mistress of the +emporium was brought home, much to the solace of Caleb, who was +remembered by us also, let me not forget to add.</p> + +<p>Truly kind and benevolent as he was, Napoleon Burress had a despotic +manner, which relaxed beneath the genial smile of Marian March.</p> + +<p>"I must go, indeed, my dear sir" (to Dr. Pemberton), "but this night +will be memorable in my annals. God bless you all! Farewell. Afraid of +an encounter? Not I. Like Horatio Cockleshell of old, I learned to carry +pistols constantly about me when I had to pass the bridge every night as +a youngster. My parents lived in Hamilton village. I still keep up the +custom, and therefore pay my fine yearly to the council."</p> + +<p>"When at last we separated, the clock was on the stroke of one, and I +went to a clean and quiet chamber above the little study, where a bright +fire was burning, but whence the smell of lavender, which always +accompanies the fresh sheets of Quakerhood, still prevailed with a +summer-like fragrance. The attentive house-maid disrobed me, and bathed +my chilled and frosted feet and swollen hands in water tempered with +alcohol. Then arraying me in a mob-cap and snowy cotton gown, the +property of good Mrs. Jessup, placed me in the soft nest prepared for +sojourners beneath that homely but hospitable roof.</p> + +<p>"I hope thee is comfortable, Miriam Monfort," said Mrs. Jessup, after I +was ensconced in bed. "Why, thy face is the same, after all, that I +remember when thou wert a very little girl, and used to walk out with +Mrs. Austin. She is well, I hope?" settling the bed-cover.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you, Mrs. Jessup. I must rather ask such questions of +you. When did you see her last? and Mabel—do you know my little +sister?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I know her perfectly well by sight. Let me see, it was Sabbath +before last that, just as I was coming out of Friends' meeting-house, I +saw Mabel Monfort, a pretty maiden, truly, walking with her step-sister, +I think, and a tall and stately gentleman. But Mrs. Austin I have not +seen since last rose-time, and then only in passing. She seemed well, +but wore a troubled face."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; she was troubled, no doubt, things were so altered; and, if +her heart had not turned to stone, she must have thought of me sometimes +regretfully. But all bids fair now, Mrs. Jessup, both for me and her, +and for Mabel. For the rest, let them go—they are fiends!"</p> + +<p>"Thee has a very flushed and hot cheek, Miriam, now that I see thee +closely and touch thy face"—doing so lightly with the back of her hand +as she spoke. "A bowl of sage-tea would, no doubt, be of service to +thee; shall I—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Mrs. Jessup; I never could drink that wise stuff in the world. +I have just had a good supper, and am excited, that is all. Jenny will +tell you what she overheard concerning my escape of to-night, and that +will account for all."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, then, Miriam; may the Lord have thee in his care this +night"—and she withdrew, followed by Jenny, eager, no doubt, to +commence the recital of my adventure, or to hear what more Captain +Wentworth and Dr. Pemberton had to say on the subject.</p> + +<p>It was nearly daylight when they parted, one to snatch a few hours of +needful slumber before setting out on his professional tour, the other +to go at once to the officers of justice, and, at the very earliest hour +possible, obtain the authority to arrest the brace of arch-conspirators, +still protected by the shadows of the dawn.</p> + +<p>For Justice has its time of sleeping and waking in large cities, and +will not be denied its meals, its hours of rest, and even recreation. So +it was seven o'clock in the cold November morning before the proper +ceremonials could be accomplished which placed it in the power of +Wentworth to arraign Basil Bainrothe and Luke Gregory.</p> + +<p>He occupied one seat in the hackney-coach, which was otherwise filled by +the officers of the law; but, when he rang a sonorous peal on the portal +bell of Bainrothe's residence, it was unanswered, and, though the house +had been watched since daylight by an armed police force, who had no +connection with McDermot, it was found, when an entrance had been +effected, that the only inhabitants of the mansion were a sick woman, an +old negress, and a child, apparently, from its puny size, about a +twelvemonth old. The woman could not be aroused from the coma in which +she seemed to have fallen, either as a crisis of her disease or a +precursor of death (medical opinion was divided), until suddenly, about +noon, she waked, perfectly clear in mind and comfortable in body, and +called loudly for nourishment!</p> + +<p>I had slept profoundly until that hour, and my first thought in waking +was of Mrs. Clayton and her probable condition; then came the +concentrated effort necessary for her release; and she, too, awoke, as I +have shown, to consciousness and physical ease.</p> + +<p>Her surprise, her indignation, at being thus deserted, surpassed even +her disappointment at my escape, and her involuntary somnolency was a +theme of self-reproach and marvel both. But all yielded in turn to +terror when she found herself under arrest in her own chamber, in +company with her fellow-conspirator Sabra.</p> + +<p>The child was brought to me, at my earnest request, and, during the few +days of my sojourn under Dr. Pemberton's roof, managed to make friends +of all around him. His deformity soon became a matter of interest and +medical examination, and it was decided that it was not beyond the reach +of surgical skill.</p> + +<p>The process would be very gradual, Dr. Pemberton thought, of +straightening the spinal curvature; but, should the health of the child +prove good after his tardy and difficult dentition, much might be hoped +from the aid of Nature herself. This was joyous intelligence to me.</p> + +<p>The noble soul of Ernie should still wear a fitting frame, and the +stature of his kind be accorded to him! The "picaninny" wicked old Sabra +had gloated on as a dainty morsel, on the raft, might live to put Fate +itself to shame; for had I not marveled that his mother even should care +to preserve a thing so frail and wretched, when we sat hand-in-hand +together on the burning ship? And, later, had I not pondered over the +wisdom of his preservation? Who, then, shall penetrate the mysteries of +divine intention?</p> + +<p>Claude Bainrothe had been arrested, but, after close and thorough +examination, was dismissed as irresponsible for and ignorant of his +father's acts and designs, a sentence afterward revoked, as far as +public opinion was concerned.</p> + +<p>Evelyn, Mabel, and Mrs. Austin, were, of course, beyond suspicion—the +last two deservedly so; and if, indeed, Evelyn had been guilty of +coöperation, I knew it had been through the force of circumstances +alone, too potent for her egotism and vanity. She never wished to +destroy, only to govern me, and make my being and interests subordinate +to her own. Mrs. Austin and Mabel received me with earnest joy, and +Evelyn even manifested a decent sense of sisterly gratulation.</p> + +<p>I never saw Claude Bainrothe nor entered my father's house until after +he had left it and forever—accompanied not by his wife, who lingered +behind in distress and wretched dependence, most bitter to a spirit like +hers, neither loving to give or receive favors—for, gathering up all of +his own and his father's valuables, and drawing from the bank every +dollar he could command, this worthy son of an unprincipled sire fled to +join his parent, with his minion, Ada Greene. Evelyn had been for some +time sensible of his infatuation, and striven vainly to combat it by +every means in her power, forbearance having been her first alternative, +vivid reproach her last. But experiments had failed. The first only +fostered guilt beneath her own roof—the last urged it to its +consummation.</p> + +<p>Still young and beautiful, she was deserted by the only man she had ever +loved—the being for whom she had ruthlessly sacrificed the welfare of +her sisters and every sentiment of honor; to whom she had given up her +liberty to pander to his and his father's ignominy, and her home to +their desecration.</p> + +<p>In her great grief she retired to the solitude of her own chamber, and +refused to see any face save that of Mrs. Austin, who from this period +became her sole attendant, even after time had somewhat ameliorated the +first agony incident to her condition.</p> + +<p>For there came to her another phase of being which made this attendance +no less a necessity than her present form of bitter and helpless grief. +Hope revived, but in a form that promised no fruition, and which later +will be made plainer to the reader. Just now I must continue my +<i>résumé</i>.</p> + +<p>Old Martin was dead of paralysis, after praying vainly to be spared to +see his master's child return and take possession of her own, for he had +never believed in my suicide, an idea that Bainrothe had taken pains to +propagate. Nor did he lend any faith to my demise; knowing what he did, +he believed that I had gone to England to get assistance from my +mother's relatives—and Mrs. Austin had shared his opinion; she had +nursed him to the last, faithfully, and Evelyn had been tolerant of his +presence. This, at least, was a consolation.</p> + +<p>Sabra and Mrs. Clayton were not prosecuted, and I did, perhaps, the most +inexorable act of my life when I refused to see either of them again, or +assist them to more than a mere subsistence until health could be +restored to the one and her "owners" written to in order that the other +might be reclaimed to bondage, in which condition alone she, and such as +she, can be restrained from wrongdoing. "For there are devils on the +earth," says Swedenborg, "as well as angels, and they both wear human +guise—but by this may we know them, that no mortal ties bind them, no +sphere confines them. They walk abroad, the one solely to evil for its +own sake, the other to universal good for the Father. Such as these die +not, but are translated, the one to hell, the other to heaven."</p> + +<p>Do we not right, then, to confine and enslave devils while they abide +with us, or, if we can, to destroy them utterly? And if we discern them, +shall we not adore God's angels?</p> + +<p>These dwell not long among us, and their eyes are fixed always with a +far, pure yearning for some sphere in which we have no part. We feel +this in our daily intercourse with them, for angels like these dwell +often in the lowliest form about us, and our common contact with them +thrills and awes us, though we scarcely realize that it is from them we +have these sensations, or what renders them so far, though near at hand!</p> + +<p>Little children, submissive slaves, sad women, unresisting men, patient +physicians, great patriots, persistent preachers, martyr poets—all +these forms and phases in turn do our associate angels enter into and +inform.</p> + +<p>But ever the sign is there! They are not ours! Among us, but not of +us—set apart, here for a season be it, longer or shorter, ready at any +time to spread their wings! My sister was of these—I did not recognize +this truth in the time of my great sorrow, when the parting plumes had +not revealed themselves to my undiscerning eyes.</p> + +<p>A mighty touchstone has been applied to these earthly orbs since then, +and the power to discriminate has been given to my soul. As Gregory and +Sabra were devils, I verily believe, so was Mabel one of Swedenborg's +angels. Who shall gainsay me? Who knows more than I on this subtle +subject? Not the wisest theologian that lives and breathes this earthly +air! Only those who never speak to enlighten us, and who have passed +into infinite light and knowledge through the portals of the grave.</p> + +<p>When I knelt beside Wardour Wentworth in the old church of chimes a +fortnight after my emancipation from the thraldom of demons, I acquired +with this new allegiance of mine a more Christian and forbearing spirit +than had ever before possessed me; but the pearl of great price came not +yet. Into the deeps of sorrow was my soul first compelled to enter, a +diver in the great ocean, whence alone all such precious pearls are +borne.</p> + +<p>Notice had been given to Claude Bainrothe to evacuate my father's +premises before my return from the brief wedding-trip which comprised +business as well as recreation. Captain Wentworth took me with him to +Richmond and to Washington, to both of which places his affairs led him. +In the last I had the pleasure of grasping Old Hickory by his honest +hand. He was my husband's patron and benefactor, and as such alone +entitled to my regard; but there was more. As patriot, soldier, +gentleman in the truest sense of the word, I have not seen his peer.</p> + +<p>It was a great delight to me, in spite of the shadow Evelyn's grief +threw over our threshold, to stand once more as mistress in my father's +house, even in the wreck of fortune, and control the education and +destiny of my young sister. Little Ernie, too, had his place in the +household as son by adoption, and grew daily stronger and more vigorous +in our sight, the thoughtful, loving, and reticent child, heralding the +man of power, affection, and principle, that he has become.</p> + +<p>The employment of my husband lay near the city of my nativity. He was +occupied in making the great railroad through Jersey that was the +pioneer of engineering progress, and a mighty link between two kindred +States. He was in this way, though often absent, never for any length of +time, and his return was always a fresh source of joy to his household. +Mabel worshiped him; Ernie silently revered; Evelyn with all of her +growing peculiarities acknowledged he had merit; and Mrs. Austin +regarded him with mingled awe and affection, for to her he was +singularly kind and affectionate.</p> + +<p>"To grow old in servitude," he would say, "what sadder fate can befall +any being, or more entitle him or her to forbearance and respect? What +life-long hardships does this condition not impose? And this is a field +for universal charity, which costs not much, only a little patience and +a few kind words and smiles."</p> + +<p>Ours was a happy household; no cloud rested upon it, save for a few +brief days of illness or discomfort, until the great blow fell. In her +seventeenth year and on the eve of her marriage with Norman Stansbury +(again our neighbor, at intervals, when he came to visit his relatives, +a man of noble qualities and singularly devoted to my sister), Mabel +died suddenly of some secret disease of the heart which had simulated +radiant health and bloom.</p> + +<p>I had sometimes observed with anxiety a slight shortness of breath, a +gasping after unusual exercise, and called the attention of physicians +to this state of things in my sister, who regarded it merely as a +nervous symptom, and this was all to indicate that the fell destroyer +was silently at work. She had just laid a bunch of white roses on her +toilet, and crossed the chamber for water to place them in, when she +called my name in a strange, excited way, that brought me speedily to +her side from the adjoining room. She was lying white and speechless on +her bed, beside which the crystal goblet lay in fragments.</p> + +<p>The waters of her own existence had flowed forthwith those prepared for +her flowers, and before assistance could be summoned she expired +peacefully in my arms, without a struggle. She had inherited her +mother's malady.</p> + +<p>The anguish, and disappointment of the lover, and my own despair, maybe +better imagined than portrayed. My baby died a few weeks later—partly, +I think, from the effect of my own condition on her frail organization, +and the hope of years was blighted in this fragile blossom—the first +that had blessed our union.</p> + +<p>The little Constance slumbered by Mabel's side, and a slip from that +bunch of white roses, the last my sister had gathered, shadows the +marbles that guard both of those now-distant, yet not neglected graves. +Thus death at last entered our happy household!</p> + +<p>A great shadow fell over me, which I vainly strove to dispel with all +the effort of my reason and my will. Physicians, remembering my mother's +inscrutable melancholy—a part of that mysterious malady that consumed +her life—whispered their warnings in my husband's ears, and he +resolved, with that energy which belongs to men of his nature, to lay +the axe at once to the root of this evil in the only way that presented +itself to his mind—as possible of accomplishment.</p> + +<p>At first I resisted faintly the coincidence of his will, which he knew +was sure to come sooner or later; and to the very last it was agony +unspeakable to me, to think that my father's house should pass into the +hands of strangers, and that the place that knew me should know me no +more!</p> + +<p>Very resolutely and calmly did Wardour endure and stem my opposition. +Swift and strong as the current of my will flowed naturally, he was ever +its master, as the stone dam can stay and lull the fiercest rivers. He +persisted, knowing well what was at stake, and to my surprise Dr: +Pemberton and Mr. Gerald Stansbury cooperated with his decision. Nor did +Mr. Lodore oppose it, though losing thereby one of his most liberal +parishioners.</p> + +<p>A great struggle was going on in my heart just then—that I think +would have perished in darkness, had I not found myself free and +emancipated from all fetters of custom and observance by our change of +residence.</p> + +<p>From the shallow streams of conventional Christianity, moving with tardy +current, and full of shoals and sandbanks, I was drifting down, slowly +but surely, with that great ocean of deep and unsounded religion, to +which all profound natures, that have suffered, do, I believe—if left +to themselves—inevitably tend.</p> + +<p>In this new land of promise—the golden California—lying like a bride +by the side of her bridegroom—the great Pacific Ocean—and shut away +by deserts and mountains, from all old conventional cliques and +prejudices of our Eastern cities, my soul took wing. What poetry was in +me found its outlet; what religious capacity God had endued me with, +went forth from the clash of cymbals and the sound of the sackbut, that +ever had reminded me, in all seasons of sorrow, or even of joyous +excitement, that I was one of an ancient people, astray in foreign +pastures—went forth (even as the compromise was made at first by Christ +and his apostles with the magnificent but soulless worship of the Jews) +to merge these sounds of ancient rite and form in the deep roll of the +organ, that fills the churches where the Host is present.</p> + +<p>I needed this abiding miracle to stay my faith—to give it a new +rapture, never experienced before—to sustain me in my sorrow. In the +presence of the holy Eucharist—in the sweet belief that saints communed +with me, and that the Mother of God, who, like me, had wept and +suffered, interceded for me at the throne of Christ, I regained the +vitality that seemed gone forever.</p> + +<p>There is no cup like this for the lips of the parched and weary +wayfarer—none!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="III_CHAPTER_XV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Let me go back a little in this retrospect, into which I am compelling +into a small space much that would take time in the telling, as a +necessary retrenchment for too much affluence of description in the +beginning.</p> + +<p>The mind of the narrator, like the stone descending the shaft, gathers +accelerated velocity with its momentum toward the last, and so expends +itself in a more brief and sententious manner than in the commencement. +It should be also, but rarely is, more powerful, and more condensed as +it nears its <i>finale</i>.</p> + +<p>Why these things do <i>not</i> go more uniformly together, as according to +popular opinion they invariably must, is better understood by the artist +than his readers.</p> + +<p>Details are requisite to fill up a mental picture, and impress it on the +memory, and, though brevity is certainly the soul of wit, it cannot be +said to be infallible in enforcing description to do its duty—that of +painting a panoramic picture on the brain.</p> + +<p>Life is full of pre-Raphaelitism, and so is fiction, if indeed it +resembles life—such as we know it, or such as it might be. The art of +verisimilitude is found alone in detail.</p> + +<p>Let me go back, then, for a brief summary of some of the principal +events and personages of Monfort Hall and Beauseincourt, the earlier +portions of this retrospect. I will begin with the La Vignes.</p> + +<p>George Gaston, in one of the brief pauses of his stormy political +career, wooed and married Margaret La Vigne, the year before her mother +espoused in second nuptials her early lover (the brother of that saintly +minister who came to her rescue in the first days of her widowhood), and +in this marriage she has been happy and prosperous.</p> + +<p>They continue to reside under the same roof, and Bellevue awaits its +master. It will be empty, I think, if I understand George Gaston's +character, so long as Major Favraud is a wanderer on the face of the +Continent of Europe, and held, for his especial benefit and return, in +readiness.</p> + +<p>Vernon and his sweet wife Marion spent the first season of their happy +married life under my lintel-tree, and are now our nearest neighbors in +our new land of sojourn. A slender iron fence divides our grounds from +theirs. A golden cord of affection binds our lives together. Our +interests, too, are the same.</p> + +<p>Vernon is leagued with my husband in the great engineering projects +which have enriched them both—the capital to enlist in which sphere +of enterprise was furnished by the sale to a company of our +"gold-gashed" lands in Georgia—revealed to my knowledge, as it may be +remembered, by the inadvertence of Gregory.</p> + +<p>The career of Bertie La Vigne had been a varied one, as might have been +foreseen perhaps from her early manifestations and proclivities.</p> + +<p>She came to me, while still we dwelt in the city of my birth, when she +was approaching her seventeenth year, and remained a twelvemonth under +my roof, engaged in the study of Shakespeare with that accomplished +<i>artiste</i> Mr. Mortimer. She intended to pursue what gift she had of +voice and histrionic talent as a means of livelihood, she told me from +the first, and to get rid of the ineffable weariness and monotony of her +life at Beauseincourt as well.</p> + +<p>The two motives seemed to me to be worthy of all praise. There are, +indeed, abodes that kill the soul as well as the body, and this was one +of them in my estimation, yet I remembered as a seeming inconsistency +that, when, in her sixteenth year, it was proposed that Bertie should +come to me for the purpose of attending schools for the accomplishments, +she steadily refused to do so.</p> + +<p>Her sense of duty might have been at the root of this firm and +persistent refusal to accept from my hand a gift richer far than "jewels +of the mine"—the power of varied occupation—but something had secretly +whispered to me that this was not all on which her apparent +self-abnegation was based, and I think that I was right in my +conjecture.</p> + +<p>Have you seen a plant, scathed by frost, that has made a strong and +successful effort to live, and still in its struggling existence bears +the mark of the early blight on leaf and blossom?</p> + +<p>Such was the impression made on my mind by Bertie La Vigne after three +years of separation, and yet she had grown into majestic stature and +into comparative beauty since we parted at Beauseincourt.</p> + +<p>Tall, slender, straight as a young palm-tree, with exquisite +extremities, and a face of aristocratic if not Grecian proportions, +there still was wanting in her step, her eye, her smile, that wonderful +<i>abandon</i> that had formed her chief charm in her earlier years.</p> + +<p>She had been crystallized, so to speak, by some strange process of +suffering, into a cold and dull propriety, never infringed on save at +times when she found herself alone with me, and when the old +frolic-spirit would for a little time possess her. It was not dead, but +sleeping.</p> + +<p>"And what, my dear Bertie," I said, one day, when Mr. Mortimer had +departed, and she came to throw herself down on the sofa in my chamber +and <i>rest</i>, "what has reconciled you to the old Parrot, as you used to +call our sublime Shakespeare?"</p> + +<p>"Sublime! I shall think you affected, Miriam, if you apply that word +again to that old commonplace. If he were sublime, do you suppose all +the world would read him or go to see his plays? Do reserve that epithet +for Milton, Dante, Tasso, Schiller, and the like inaccessibilities. Yes, +I do revere 'Wallenstein' more than any thing Shakespeare ever +spouted"—in answer to my gently-shaking head—"I should break down over +<i>Thekla</i>, I should, indeed."</p> + +<p>"Do you think his bed was soft under the war-horses?"—and she waved her +hand—"O God! what a tragedy; what a love!" and she covered her face +with her quivering palm.</p> + +<p>"Bertie, you are still too excitable. I am sorry to see it."</p> + +<p>"Philosopher, cure thyself."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know that was always a fault of mine."</p> + +<p>"That is why you married the man in the iron mask, you know. I could +never have loved that person."</p> + +<p>"Describe the man you think you could have loved, Bertie La Vigne."</p> + +<p>"Could have loved? That time is past forever, child. 'Frozen, and dead +forever,' as Shelley says. <i>He</i> was my affinity, I believe, only he died +before I was born. What a pity! I would rather be his widow than the +wife of any man living."</p> + +<p>"<i>She</i> would like to hear that, no doubt, Bertie."</p> + +<p>"Well, she may hear it if she chooses when I go to England to read the +old Parrot in the right way, under their very noses, Kembles and all. +I'll let Mrs. Shelley know I'm there," and she laughed merrily.</p> + +<p>"And what is your idea of the way to read Shakespeare, Bertie dear?" I +asked, playfully.</p> + +<p>"As one having authority, a head and shoulders above him and all his +prating, just as you would talk to your every-day next neighbor, read +him without any fear of his old deer-stealing ghost? Why, Miriam, he +knew himself better than we knew him. He had no more idea of being a +genius than you have! He was a sort of artesian well of a man, and could +not help spouting platitudes, that was all. Besides, he had eyes to see +and ears to hear, and a very Yankee spirit of investigation. It is the +fashion to crack him up like the Bible, both encyclopaedias, that's all! +Every man can see himself in these books, and every man likes a +looking-glass, and that's the whole secret of their success."</p> + +<p>"Bertie, you are incorrigible."</p> + +<p>"No, I am not; only genuine. I do think there is a good deal in both of +the works in question, but their sublimity I dispute. They are homely, +coarse, commonplace, as birth and death."</p> + +<p>There was something that almost froze my blood in the way she said those +last words, lying back upon the sofa with far-off-looking eyes and hands +clasped beneath her head.</p> + +<p>"Miriam," she said, after a while, "life is a humbug. I have thought so +for some time."</p> + +<p>"Poor child, poor child!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, poorer than the poorest, Miriam Harz," and, laying aside my work, I +went to and knelt beside her, and kissed her brow.</p> + +<p>"I have no soul to open! I am as empty as a chrysalis-case, that the +butterfly has gone out of to dwell amid sunshine and flowers. Yet I +believe I had one once"—in ineffably mournful accents—"but two men +killed it; and yet, neither intended the blow! O Miriam! I understand at +last what Coleridge meant by his 'life in death.' There is such a +thing—and that great necromancer found it out! I am the breathing +impersonation of that loathly thing, I believe. Listen"—and she sat up +with one raised finger and gave the poet's words with rare expression:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'The nightmare—life in death was she,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That chilled men's blood with cold.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Doesn't that describe me as I am, Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"You are, indeed, much changed, Bertie; perhaps it would be well could +you confide in me."</p> + +<p>"No, it would not be well! I never could keep any thing wholly to +myself, neither can I tell it wholly, even to such as you—reticent! +merciful! But this believe, I have done nothing wrong, nothing to be +ashamed of, to wear sackcloth and ashes for, and I am preparing to put +my foot on it all. Ay, from the snake's head of first discovery to the +snake's tail of the last disappointment, ranging over half a dozen +years! A long serpent, truly!" laughing. "But I mean to be galvanized +and get back my life. I am determined to be famous, rich, beautiful!" +and she nodded to me with the old sweet sparkle in her eye, the glad +smile on her lip.</p> + +<p>"You laugh at the last threat!—laugh on! 'He who laughs best, laughs +last!' says the old proverb. There is such a thing as training one's +features, isn't there, as well as one's setters? Miriam, I shall develop +slowly; I am still in my very downiest adolescence as to looks. You will +see me when I have filled out and ripened, and when I put on my grand +Marie Antoinette <i>tenu</i>, some day! Hair drawn back, <i>à la Pompadour</i>, +powdered with gold-dust; a touch of rouge, perhaps, on either cheek; +ruffles of rich lace at shoulders and elbows; pink brocade and emeralds, +picked out with diamonds! Mr. Mortimer's teachings in every graceful +movement! It will be all humbug, for I have no real beauty, not much +grace; but people will think me beautiful and graceful for all that, +while I wear my costumes. They are several—this is only one—all highly +becoming! I have a vision of a sea-green dress and moss-roses; of a +violet-satin robe, trimmed and twisted everywhere with flowers of yellow +jasmine; of pale-gold and tipped marabouts in my hair; also of an azure +silk with blond and pearls and a tiara on my forehead" (she laughed +archly). "You don't know my capabilities, my dear, for appearing to look +well—they are wonderful!"</p> + +<p>"The very prospect transfigures you, Bertie. I am glad you are so +courageous."</p> + +<p>"Were you courageous when you clung to your ropes on the sea-tossed +raft! No, Miriam! that was instinct—nothing more; and I, too, have very +strong intuitions of self-preservation. Heaven grant that they may be +successful! Let us pray."</p> + +<p>And, with moving lips and down-drawn lids, from beneath which the large +tears stole one by one, like crystal globes, this suffering spirit +communed with its God, silently.</p> + +<p>So best, I felt! Bertie was only a lip-deep scoffer. Her heart was open +to conviction yet, and, when the time came, I believed that the seed +sown in old days would germinate and bear good harvest. All was chaos +now!</p> + +<p>Shall I keep on with Bertie, now that the theme has possession of me, +and go back to the others when she is finally dismissed? I think this +will be wisest, especially as my space is small, and mood concentrative +rather than erratic.</p> + +<p>Let us pass over, then, five eventful years, during which the sorrows +and changes I have spoken of had taken place, and Wentworth had fixed +his home in the vicinity of San Francisco.</p> + +<p>I had heard of Bertie in the interval as a successful <i>débutante</i> as a +reader of Shakespeare, and had received her sparse and sparkling letters +confirming report, truly "angel visits, few and far between."</p> + +<p>At last one came announcing her intention of visiting California +professionally, and sojourning beneath my roof while in San Francisco. +It was to be a stay of several weeks.</p> + +<p>She was accompanied and sometimes assisted by Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer, +professional readers both—the last distinguished more for grace and +beauty, even though now on the wane of life, than she ever had been for +talent, but eminently fitted, both by education and character, for a +guide and companion.</p> + +<p>An English maid, as perfect as an automaton in her training and +regularity, accompanied Bertie, to whom were confided all details of +dress, all keys and jewels, with entire confidence and safety. An +elaborate doll seemed the red-and-white and stupidly-staring Euphemia. +Yet was she adroit, obedient, and expert, just to move in the groove of +her requirements.</p> + +<p>I have spoken only of her accessories; but now for Bertie herself.</p> + +<p>"Is she not magnificent?" was my exclamation when alone with my husband +on the night of her arrival, after our guest, with her sparkling face +and conversation, her superb toilet and bearing, her graceful, +nymph-like walk, had retired to her chamber, attended by the mechanical +"Miss Euphemia."</p> + +<p>The Mortimers, with their children and servants, remained at the +principal hotel.</p> + +<p>"The very word for her," he replied; "only that and nothing more."</p> + +<p>"Wardour!"</p> + +<p>"Well, love!"</p> + +<p>"How little enthusiasm you possess about the beautiful! Now, if there +were question of a new railroad-bridge, the vocabulary would have been +exhausted."</p> + +<p>"What would you have me say, dear? Is not that word a very comprehensive +one? The lady above-stairs is indeed magnificent; but, Miriam, where is +Bertie?" and he laughed.</p> + +<p>"Ah! I understand; you find her artificial."</p> + +<p>"She is too fine an actress for that, Miriam; only transfigured."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see what you mean" (sadly). "Bertie <i>is</i> wholly changed. Whom +does she resemble, Wardour? What queen, bethink you, whose likeness you +have seen? Not Mary Queen of Scots—not Elizabeth—"</p> + +<p>"No, surely not; but she is, now that you draw my attention to it, +strikingly like Marie Antoinette."</p> + +<p>"She said she would be, and she has succeeded!" and I mused on the +wonderful transition.</p> + +<p>Four years more, and we heard of Bertie in England, as the +rarely-gifted and beautiful American reader, "Lavinia La Vigne." Out of +the <i>répertoire</i> of her family names she had fished up this +alliteration, and "Bertie" was reserved for those behind the scenes.</p> + +<p>It was declared also in the public sheets, what great and distinguished +men were in her train; how wits bowed to her wit, and authors to her +criticisms! But, when she wrote to me, she said nothing of all this, +only telling of her visit to Mrs. Shelley, who had received her kindly, +and to the tomb of Shakespeare, whose painted effigy she especially +derided. "It looks indeed like a man who would cut his wife off with an +old feather-bed and a teakettle," was one of her characteristic remarks, +I remember; but there was a little postscript that told the whole story +of her life, on a separate scrap of paper meant only for my eye I +clearly saw, and committed instantly to the flames after perusal:</p> + +<p>"Ah, Miriam, this is all a magic lantern! The people are phantoms, the +realities are shadows, and I a wretched humbug, duller than all! Two men +have lived and breathed for me on the face of this earth—two only. One +was my much-offending and deeply-suffering father. The other—O, Miriam, +to think of him is crime; but in his life, and that alone, I live. I +send you Praed's last beautiful little song—'Tell him I love him yet.' +It will tell you every thing. An answer I have scribbled to it as if +written by a man. Keep both, and when I am dead, should you survive me, +dear, lay them if you can in my coffin, close, close to my heart!"</p> + +<p>Three years more, and Bertie is in Rome, independent, at last, through +her own exertions, and able to gratify her tastes. I receive thence +statues, and pictures, and cameos, all exquisite of their kind, her +princely gifts, her legacies. Then comes a long silence. She knew what +faith was mine when she last abode, beneath my roof and made herself a +little impertinently merry at my expense in consequence of this new +order of things.</p> + +<p>Now comes a letter (a paper envelope accompanying it)—Bertie La Vigne +has entered the Catholic Church, through baptism and confirmation, so +briefly states the letter written in her own hand and of date some +months back, retained; no doubt, through forgetfulness, until reminded. +The paper, of recent issue, tells of the ceremony at St. Peter's, which +admitted to the novitiate several noble ladies, native and foreign, and +among the rest an <i>artist</i> of merit, Miss Lavinia La Vigne, of Georgia, +United States of America.</p> + +<p>On the margin of the paper were a few penciled words in her own +handwriting: "I have found the reality." This was all.</p> + +<p>I shall never see her again unless I go to Rome, and then only through a +grating, or in the presence of others like herself, for she has taken +the black veil, and retired behind a shadow deep as that cast from the +cypress-shaded tomb. Yet, under existing circumstances, and in +consideration of her early experiences which no success nor later future +could obliterate, or render less unendurable, I believe she has chosen +the wiser part.</p> + +<p>Peace be with thee, Bertie, whether in earth or in heaven!<a name="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7"><sup>[7]</sup></a></p> + +<p>Our home overlooks the calm bay of San Francisco, standing, as it does, +on an eminence, surrounded with stately forest-trees, and dark from a +distance with evergreens which trail their majestic branches over roods +of lawn.</p> + +<p>These trees have ever been a passion with me. I love their aromatic +odors, reminding one of balm and frankincense, and the great Temple of +Solomon itself, built of fine cedar-wood. I admire their stately +symmetry, and the majesty of their unchanging presence, and stand well +pleased and invigorated in their shadow.</p> + +<p>Our house is built of stone, and faced with white marble brought from +beyond the seas. Its architectural details are composite, and yet of +dream-like beauty and perfection.</p> + +<p>There are statues and blooming plants in the great lower corridors and +porticos, and vast hall of entrance, oval and open to the roof, with its +marble gallery surrounding it and suspended midway, secured by its +exquisite and lace-like screen of iron balustrading. Pictures of the +great modern masters adorn the walls.</p> + +<p>The skylight above floods the whole house with sunshine at the touching +of a cord, which controls the venetians that in summer-time shade the +halls below; and the parlors, and saloon, and library, and dining-room, +and the quiet, spacious chambers above-stairs, are all admirably +proportioned and finished, and furnished as well, for the comfort of +those that abide in them—hosts and guests.</p> + +<p>In one of the most private and luxurious of these apartments abode, for +some years, a pale and shadowy being, refusing all intercourse with +society, and vowed to gloom and hypochondria. It was her strange and +mournful mania to look upon all human creatures with suspicion, nay, +with loathing.</p> + +<p>The fairest linen, the whitest raiment, the most exquisite repast, +whether prepared by human hands, or furnished by divine Providence +itself, in the shape of tempting fruits, if touched by another, became +at once revolting and unpalatable. Thus, with servants to relieve her of +all cares, and Mrs. Austin as her devoted attendant, she preferred, by +the aid of her own small culinary contrivance, to prepare her fastidious +meals, to spread her own snowy couch, so often a bed of thorns to her, +to put on her own attire, regularly fumigated and purified by some +process she affected, as it came from the laundry and touched only with +gloved hands by herself, as were the books into which she occasionally +glanced for solace.</p> + +<p>Most of her time was spent in gazing from her window, that overlooked +the bay, and dreaming of the return of one who had long since +heartlessly deserted her, leaving her dependent on those she had +injured, and from whom she bitterly and even derisively received +shelter, tender ministry, and all possible manifestations of compassion +and interest.</p> + +<p>Her mind had been partially overthrown at the time of her husband's +desertion and her dead baby's birth—events that occurred almost +conjointly; and it was the wreck of Evelyn Erie we cherished until her +slow consumption, long delayed by the balmy air of California, +culminated mercifully to herself and all around her, and removed her +from this sphere of suffering.</p> + +<p>Whither? Alas! the impotence of that question! Are there not beings who +seem, indeed, to lack the great essential for salvation—a soul to be +saved? How far are such responsible?</p> + +<p>Claude Bainrothe is married again, and not to Ada Greene, who, outcast +and poor, came some years since as an adventuress to California, and +signalized herself later, in the <i>demi-monde,</i> as a leader of great +audacity, beauty, and reckless extravagance. The lady of his choice (or +heart?) was a fat baroness, about twenty years his senior, who lets +apartments, and maintains the externes of her rank in a saloon fifteen +feet square, furnished with red velveteen, and accessible by means of an +antechamber paved with tiles!</p> + +<p>He has grown stout, drinks beer, and smokes a meerschaum, but is still +known on the principal promenade, and in the casino of the German town +in which he resides, as "the handsome American." He is said, however, to +have spells of melancholy.</p> + +<p>The "Chevalier Bainrothan," and the "Lady Charlotte Fremont," his +step-daughter, for as such she passes, for some quaint or wicked reason +unrevealed to society, with their respectable and hideous house-keeper, +Madame Clayton, dwell under the same roof, and enjoy the privilege of +access to the <i>salon</i> of the baroness, and a weekly game of <i>écarté</i> at +her <i>soirées</i>, usually profitable to the chevalier in a small way.</p> + +<p>All this did Major Favraud, in his own merry mood, communicate to us on +the occasion of his memorable visit to San Francisco, when he remained +our delighted guest during one long delicious summer season. Of Gregory, +we never heard.</p> + +<p>"I had hoped to hear of your marriage long before this," I said to him +one day. "Tell me why you have not wedded some fair lady before this +time. Now tell me frankly as you can."</p> + +<p>"Simply because you did not wait for me."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! the truth. I want no <i>badinage</i>"</p> + +<p>"Because, then—because I never could forget Celia—never love any one +else."</p> + +<p>"She was one of Swedenborg's angels. Major Favraud—no real wife of +yours. She never was married"—and I shook my head—"only united to a +being of the earth with whom she had no real affinity. Choose yours +elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"I believe you are half right," he said, sadly. "She never seemed to +belong to me by right—only a bird I had caught and caged, that loved me +well, yet was eager to escape."</p> + +<p>"Such, was the state of the case, I cannot doubt; a more out and out +flesh-and-blood organization would suit you better. Your life is not +half spent; the dreary time is to come. Go back to Bellevue, and get you +a kind companion, and let children climb your knees, and surround your +hearth. You would be so much happier."</p> + +<p>"Suggest one, then. Come, help me to a wife."</p> + +<p>"No, no, I can make no matches; but you know Madame de St. Aube is a +widow now. You were always congenial."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but"—with a shrug of his shoulders, worthy of a Frenchman—"<i>que +voulez vous</i>? That woman has five children already, and a plantation +mortgaged to Maginnis!"</p> + +<p>"Maginnis again! The very name sends a chill through my bones! No, that +will never do. Some maiden lady, then—some sage person of thirty-four +or five."</p> + +<p>"I do not fancy such. I'll tell you what! I believe I will go back and +court Bertie on some of her play-acting rounds, and mate a decent woman +of that little vagabond. Because she was disappointed once, is that a +reason? Great Heavens! this tongue of mine! Cut it out, Mrs. Wentworth, +and cast it to the seals in the bay. I came very near—"</p> + +<p>"Betraying what I have long suspected. Major Favraud. Who <i>was</i> that +man?"</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me, my dear woman; I must not say another word, in honor. It +was a most unfortunate affair—a sheer misunderstanding. He loved her +all the time; I knew this, but you know her manner! He did not +understand her flippant way; her keen, unsparing, and bitter wit; her +devoted, passionate, proud, and breaking heart; and so there was a +coolness, and they parted; and what happened afterward nearly killed +her! So she left her home."<a name="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8"><sup>[8]</sup></a></p> + +<p>"I must not ask you, I feel, for you say you cannot tell me more in +honor, but I think I know. The man, of all the earth, I would have +chosen for her. Oh, hard is woman's fate!"</p> + +<p>To the very last I have reserved what lay nearest my heart of hearts.</p> + +<p>Three children have been born to us in California, and have made our +home a paradise. The two elder are sons, named severally for my father +and theirs, Reginald and Wardour.</p> + +<p>The last is a daughter, a second Mabel, beautiful as the first, and +strangely resembling her, though of a stronger frame and more vital +nature. She is the sunshine of the house, the idol of her father and +brothers, who <i>all</i> are mine, as well as the fair child of seven +summers herself.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Austin presides, in imagination, over our nursery, but, in reality, +is only its most honored occasional visitor, her chamber being distinct, +and my own rule being absolute therein, with the aid of a docile +adjunct.</p> + +<p>Ernest Wentworth, our adopted son—so-called for want of any other +name—is the standard of perfection in mind and morals, for the +imitation of the rest of the band of children.</p> + +<p>He has gained the usual stature of young men of his age, with a slight +defect of curvature of the shoulders that does but confirm his scholarly +appearance.</p> + +<p>His face, with its magnificent brow, piercing dark eyes, pale +complexion, and clustering hair, is striking, if not handsome.</p> + +<p>He has graduated as a student of law, and, should his health permit, +will, I cannot doubt, distinguish himself as a forensic orator.</p> + +<p>George Gaston and Madge have promised a visit to the Vernons; but I +cannot help hoping, rather without than <i>for</i> any good reason, that they +will not come! I love them both, yet I feel they are mismated, even if +happy.</p> + +<p>My husband is noted among his peers for his liberal and noble-minded use +of a princely income, and his great public spirit. He unites +agricultural pursuits with his profession, and has placed, among other +managers, my old ally, Christian Garth and his family, on the ranch he +holds nearest to San Francisco.</p> + +<p>Thence, at due seasons, seated on a wain loaded with the fruits of their +labor, the worthy pair come up to the city to trade, and never fail in +their tribute to our house.</p> + +<p>The immigrant possessed of worth and industry, however poor; the +adventurous man, who seeks by the aid of his profession alone to +establish himself in California; the artist, the man of letters, all +meet a helping hand from Wardour Wentworth, who in his charities +observes but one principle of action, one hope of recompense, both to be +found in the teachings of philanthropy:</p> + +<p>"As I do unto you, go you and do unto others." This is his maxim.</p> + +<p>Our lives have been strangely happy and successful up to this hour, so +that sometimes my emotional nature, too often in extremes, trembles +beneath its burden of prosperity, and conjures up strange phantoms of +dark possibilities, that send me, tearful and depressed, to my husband's +arms, to find strength and courage in his rare and calm philosophy and +equipoise.</p> + +<p>Never on his sweet serene brow have I seen a frown of discontent, or a +cloud of sourceless sorrow, such as too often come—the last especially +to mine—born of that melancholy which has its root far back in the +bosoms of my ancestors.</p> + +<p>Such as his life is, he accepts it manfully; and in his shadow I find +protection and grow strong.</p> + +<p>Reader, farewell!</p> +<br /> + +<p>THE END.</p> + +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> + +<a name="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7">[7]</a><div class="note"><p> EDITOR'S NOTE.— ... Some years after the closing of Miriam +Monfort's Retrospect, the civil war broke out in the United States, and +Pope Pius IX. was pleased to grant permission to several American nuns, +Southern ladies, whose vocation was religious, to visit their own +States, and lend what succor, spiritual and physical, they could to the +wounded and dying, on the battle-fields and in the Confederate camps. +Among these came the Sister Ursula, from the convent of the Carthusians, +known once as Lavinia, or Bertie La Vigne. She was particularly fearless +and efficient, and was killed by a cannon-ball at Shiloh while kneeling +beside a dying officer, ascertained to be her sister's husband, the +gallant George Gaston of the Seventh-Georgia. By order of Colonel +Favraud, they were buried in one grave. He best knew wherefore this was +done....</p></div> + +<a name="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8">[8]</a><div class="note"><p> This was previous to Bertie's visit.</p></div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12453 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + |