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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/14382-0.txt b/14382-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d5f1a60 --- /dev/null +++ b/14382-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11838 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14382 *** + +THE MISSING BRIDE + +A Novel + +by + +MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH + +Author of _Self-Raised_, _Ishmael_, _Retribution_, _The Bridal Eve_, +_The Bride's Fate_, _Mother-in-Law_, _The Haunted Homestead_, _The +Bride's Dowry_, _Victor's Triumph_, _A Fortune Seeker_, etc. + + + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +LUCKENOUGH. + + +Deep in the primeval forest of St. Mary's, lying between the Patuxent +and the Wicomico Rivers, stands the ancient manor house of Luckenough. + +The traditions of the neighborhood assert the origin of the manor and +its quaint, happy and not unmusical name to have been--briefly this: + +That the founder of Luckenough was Alexander Kalouga, a Polish soldier +of fortune, some time in the service of Cecilius Calvert, Baron of +Baltimore, first Lord Proprietary of Maryland. This man had, previous to +his final emigration to the New World, passed through a life of the most +wonderful vicissitudes--wonderful even for those days of romance and +adventure. It was said that he was born in one quarter of the globe, +educated in another, initiated into warfare in the third and buried in +the fourth. In his boyhood he was the friend and pupil of Guy Fawkes; he +engaged in the Gunpowder Plot, and after witnessing the terrible fate of +his master, he escaped to Spanish America, where he led for years a sort +of buccaneer life. He afterwards returned to Europe, and then followed +years of military service wherever his hireling sword was needed. But +the soldier of fortune was ill-paid by his mistress. His misfortunes +were as proverbial as his bravery, or as his energetic complaints of +"ill luck" could make them. He had drawn his sword in almost every +quarrel of his time, on every battlefield in Europe, to find himself, +at the end of his military career, no richer than he was at its +beginning--save in wounds and scars, honor and glory, and a wife and +son. It was at this point of his life that he met with Leonard Calvert, +and embarked with him for Maryland, where he afterwards received from +the Lord Proprietary the grant of the manor "aforesaid." It is stated +that when the old soldier went with some companions to take a look at +his new possessions, he was so pleased with the beauty, grandeur, +richness and promise of the place that a glad smile broke over his dark, +storm-beaten, battle-scarred face, and he remained still "smiling as in +delighted visions," until one of his friends spoke and said: + +"Well, comrade! Is this luck enough?" + +"Yaw, mine frient!" answered the new lord of the manor in his broken +English, cordially grasping the hand of his companion, "dish ish loke +enough!" + +Different constructions have been put upon this simple answer--first, +that Lukkinnuf was the original Indian name of the tract; secondly, that +Alexander Kalouga christened his manor in honor of Loekenoff, the native +village of his wife, the heroic Marie Zelenski, the companion of all his +campaigns and voyages, and the first lady of his manor; thirdly, that +the grateful and happy soldier had only meant to express his perfect +satisfaction with his fortune, and to say: + +"Yes, this is luck enough! luck enough to repay me for all the past!" +Be it as it may, from time immemorial the place has been "Luckenough." + +The owner in 1814 was Commodore Nickolas Waugh, who inherited the +property in right of his mother, the only child and heiress of Peter +Kalouga. + +This man had the constitution and character, not of his mother's, but of +his father's family--a hardy, rigorous, energetic Montgomery race, full +of fire, spirit and enterprise. At the age of twelve Nickolas lost his +father. + +At fifteen he began to weary of the tedium of Luckenough, varied only by +the restraint of the academy during term. And at sixteen he rebelled +against the rule of his indolent lymphatic mamma, broke through the +reins of domestic government, escaped to Baltimore and shipped as cabin +boy in a merchantman. + +Nickolas Waugh went through many adventures, served on board +merchantmen, privateers and haply pirates, too, sailed to every part of +the known world, and led a wild, reckless and sinful life, until the +breaking out of the Revolutionary War, when he took service with Paul +Jones, the American Sea King, and turned the brighter part of his +character up to the light. He performed miracles of valor--achieved for +himself a name and a post-captain's rank in the infant navy and finally +was permitted to retire with a bullet lodged under his shoulder blade, a +piece of silver trepanned in the top of his skull, a deep sword-cut +across his face from the right temple over his nose to the left +cheek--and with the honorary title of commodore. + +He was a perfect beauty about this time, no doubt, but that did not +prevent him from receiving the hand of his cousin Henrietta Kalouga, who +had waited for him many a weary year. + +No children blessed his late marriage, and as year after year passed, +until himself and his wife were well stricken in years, people, who +never lost interest in the great estate, began to wonder to which among +his tribe of impoverished relations Nickolas Waugh would bequeath the +manor of Luckenough. + +His choice fell at length upon his orphan grandniece, the beautiful +Edith Lance, whom he took from the Catholic Orphan Asylum, where she had +found refuge since the death of her parents and placed in one of the +best convent schools in the South. + +At the age of seventeen Edith was brought home from school and +established at Luckenough as the adopted daughter and acknowledged +heiress of her uncle. + +Delicate, dreamy and retiring, and tinged with a certain pensiveness, +the effect of too much early sorrow and seclusion upon a very sensitive +temperament, Edith better loved the solitude of the grand old forest of +St. Mary's or the loneliness of her own shaded rooms at Luckenough than +any society the humdrum neighborhood could offer her. And when at the +call of social duty she did go into company, she exercised a refining +and subduing influence, involuntary as it was potent. + +Yet in that lovely, fragile form, in that dreaming, poetical soul, lay +undeveloped a latent power of heroism soon to be aroused into action. +"Darling of all hearts and eyes," Edith had been at home a year when the +War of 1812 broke out. + +Maryland, as usual, contributed her large proportion of volunteers to +the defense of the country. All men capable of bearing arms rapidly +mustered into companies and hastened to put themselves at the disposal +of the government. + +The lower counties of Maryland were left comparatively unprotected. Old +men, women, children and negroes were all that remained in charge of the +farms and plantations. Yet remote from the scenes of conflict and +hitherto undisturbed by the convulsions of the great world, they reposed +in fancied safety and never thought of such unprecedented misfortunes as +the evils of the war penetrating to their quiet homes. + +But their rest of security was broken by a tremendous shock. The British +fleet under Admiral Sir A. Cockburn suddenly entered the Chesapeake. And +the quiet, lonely shores of the bay became the scene of a warfare +scarcely paralleled in atrocity in ancient or modern times. + +If among the marauding band of licensed pirates and assassins there was +one name more dreaded, more loathed and accursed than the rest, it was +that of the brutal and ferocious Thorg--the frequent leader of foraging +parties, the unsparing destroyer of womanhood, infancy and age, the +jackal and purveyor of Admiral Cockburn. If anywhere there was a +beautiful woman unprotected, or a rich plantation house ill-defended, +this jackal was sure to scent out "the game" for his master, the lion. +And many were the comely maidens and youthful wives seized and carried +off by this monster. + +The Patuxent and the Wicomico, with the coast between them, offered no +strong temptation to a rapacious foe, and the inhabitants reposed in the +fancied security of their isolation and unimportance. The business of +life went on, faintly and sorrowfully, to be sure, but still went on. +The village shops at B---- and C---- were kept open, though tended +chiefly by women and boys. The academicians at the little college +pursued their studies or played at forming juvenile military companies. +The farms and plantations were cultivated chiefly under the direction of +ladies whose husbands, sons and brothers were absent with the army. No +one thought of danger to St. Mary's. + +Most terrible was the awakening from this dream of safety, when, on the +morning of the 17th of August, the division under the command of Admiral +Cockburn--the most dreaded and abhorred of all--was seen to enter the +mouth of the Patuxent in full sail for Benedict. Nearly all the +able-bodied men were absent with the army at the time when the combined +military and naval forces tinder Admiral Cockburn and General Ross +landed at that place. None remained to guard the homes but aged men, +women, infants and negroes. A universal panic seized the neighborhood +and nothing occurred to the defenseless people but instant flight. +Females and children were hastily put into carriages, the most valuable +items of plate or money hastily packed up, negroes mustered and the +whole caravan put upon a hurried march for Prince George's, Montgomery +or other upper counties of the State. With very few exceptions, the +farms and plantations were evacuated and left to the mercy of the +invaders. + +At sunrise all was noise, bustle and confusion at Luckenough. + +The lawn was filled with baggage wagons, horses, mules, cows, oxen, +sheep, swine, baskets of poultry, barrels of provisions, boxes of +property, and men and maid servants hurrying wildly about among them, +carrying trunks and parcels, loading carts, tackling harness, marshaling +cattle and making other preparations for a rapid retreat toward +Commodore Waugh's patrimonial estate in Montgomery County. + +Edith was placed upon her pony and attended by her old maid Jenny and +her old groom Oliver. + +Commodore and Mrs. Waugh entered the family carriage, which they pretty +well filled up. Mrs. Waugh's woman sat upon the box behind and the +Commodore's man drove the coach. + +And the whole family party set forward on their journey. They went in +advance of the caravan so as not to be hindered and inconvenienced by +its slow and cumbrous movements. A ride of three miles through the old +forest brought them to the open, hilly country. Here the road forked. +And here the family were to separate. + +It had been arranged that as Edith was too delicate to bear the forced +march of days' and nights' continuance before they could reach +Montgomery, she should proceed to Hay Hill, a plantation near the line +of Charles County, owned by Colonel Fairlie, whose young daughter Fanny, +recently made a bride, had been the schoolmate of Edith. + +Here, at the fork, the party halted to take leave. + +Commodore Waugh called his niece to ride up to the carriage window and +gave her many messages for Colonel Fairlie, for Fanny and for Fanny's +young bridegroom, and many charges to be careful and prudent, and not to +ride out unattended, etc. + +And then he called up the two old negroes and charged them to see their +young mistress safely at Hay Hill and then to return to Luckenough and +take care of the house and such things as were felt behind in case the +British should not visit it, and to shut up the house after them in case +they should come and rob it and leave it standing. Two wretched old +negroes would be in little personal danger from the soldiers. + +So argued Commodore Waugh as he took leave of them and gave orders for +the carriage to move on up the main branch of the road leading north +toward Prince George's and Montgomery. + +But so argued not the poor old negroes, as they followed Edith up the +west branch of the road that led to Charles County. + +This pleasant road ran along the side of a purling brook under the +shadow of the great trees that skirted the forest, and Edith ambled +leisurely along, low humming to herself some pretty song or listening +to the merry carols of the birds or noticing the speckled fish that +gamboled through the dark, glimmering stream or reverting to the subject +of her last reading. + +But beneath all this childish play of fancy, one grave, sorrowful +thought lay heavy upon Edith's tender heart. It was the thought of poor +old Luckenough "deserted at its utmost need" to the ravages of the foe. +Then came the question if it were not possible, in case of the house +being attacked, to save it--even for her to save it. While these things +were brewing in Edith's mind, she rode slowly and more slowly, until at +length her pony stopped. Then she noticed for the first time the heavy, +downcast looks of her attendants. + +"What is the matter?" she asked. + +"Oh! Miss Edith, don't ask me, honey--don't! Ain't we-dem got to go back +to de house and stay dar by our two selves arter we see you safe?" said +Jenny, crying. + +"No! what? you two alone!" exclaimed Edith, looking from one to the +other. + +"Yes, Miss Edith, 'deed we has, chile--but you needn't look so 'stonish +and 'mazed. You can't help of it, chile. An' if de British do come dar +and burn de house and heave we-dem into de fire jes' out of wanton, +it'll only be two poor, ole, unvaluable niggers burned up. Ole marse +know dat well enough--dat's de reason he resks we." + +"But for what purpose have you to return?" asked Edith, wondering. + +"Oh! to feed de cattle and de poultry? and take care o' de things dat's +lef behine," sobbed Jenny, now completely broken down by her terrors. "I +know--I jis does--how dem white niggers o' Co'bu'ns 'ill set de house o' +fire, an' heave we-dem two poor old innocen's into de flames out'n pure +debblish wanton!" + +Edith passed her slender fingers through her curls, stringing them out +as was her way when absent in thought. She was turning the whole matter +over in her mind. She might possibly save the mansion, though these two +old people were not likely to be able to do so--on the contrary, their +ludicrous terrors would tend to stimulate the wanton cruelty of the +marauders to destroy them with the house. Edith suddenly took her +resolution, and turned her horse's head, directing her attendants to +follow. + +"But where are you going to go, Miss Edith?" asked her groom, Oliver, +now speaking for the first time. + +"Back to Luckenough." + +"What for, Miss Edith, for goodness sake?" + +"Back to Luckenough to guard the dear old house, and take care of you +two." + +"But oh, Miss Edy! Miss Edy! for Marster in heaven's sake what'll come +o' you?" + +"What the Master in heaven wills!" + +"Lord, Lord, Miss Edy! ole marse 'ill kill we-dem. What 'ill old marse +say? What 'ill everybody say to a young gal a-doin' of anything like dat +dar? Oh, dear! dear! what will everybody say?" + +"They will say," said Edith, "if I meet the enemy and save the +house--they will say that Edith Lance is a heroine, and her name will be +probably preserved in the memory of the neighborhood. But if I fail and +lose my life, they will say that Edith was a cracked-brained girl who +deserved her fate, and that they had always predicted she would come to +a bad end." + +"Better go on to Hay Hill, Miss Edy! 'Deed, 'fore marster, better go to +Hay Hill." + +"No," said the young girl, "my resolution is taken--we will return to +Luckenough." + +The arguments of the old negroes waxed fainter and fewer. They felt a +vague but potent confidence in Edith and her abilities, and a sense of +protection in her presence, from which they were loth to part. + +The sun was high when they entered the forest shades again. + +"See," said Edith to her companions, "everything is so fresh and +beautiful and joyous here! I cannot even imagine danger." + +Edith on reaching Luckenough retired to bed, and addressed herself to +sleep. It was in vain--her nerves were fearfully excited. In vain she +tried to combat her terrors--they completely overmastered her. She was +violently shocked out of a fitful doze. + +Old Jenny stood over her, lifting her up, shaking her, and shouting in +her ears: + +"Miss Edith! Miss Edith! They are here! They are here! We shall be +murdered in our beds!" + +In the room stood old Oliver, gray with terror, while all the dogs on +the premises were barking madly, and a noisy party at the front was +trying to force an entrance. + +Violent knocking and shaking at the outer door and the sound of voices. + +"Open! open! let us in! for God's sake, let us in!" + +"Those are fugitives--not foes--listen--they plead--they do not +threaten--go and unbar the door, Oliver," said Edith. + +Reluctantly and cautiously the old man obeyed. + +"Light another candle, Jenny--that is dying in its socket--it will be +out in a minute." + +Trembling all over, Jenny essayed to do as she was bid, but only +succeeded in putting out the expiring light. The sound of the unbarring +of the door had deprived her of the last remnant of self-control. Edith +struck a light, while the sound of footsteps and voices in the hall +warned her that several persons had entered. + +"It's Nell, and Liddy, and Sol, from Hay Hill! Oh, Miss Edy! Thorg and +his men are up dar a 'stroyin' everything! Oh, Miss Edy! an' us thought +it was so safe an' out'n de way up dar! Oh, what a 'scape! what a 'scape +we-dem has had!" + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE ATTACK. + + +That summer day was so holy in its beauty, so bright, so clear, so cool; +that rural scene was so soothing in its influences, so calm, so fresh, +so harmonious; it was almost impossible to associate with that lovely +day and scene thoughts of wrong and violence and cruelty. So felt Edith +as she sometimes lifted her eyes from her work to the beauty and glory +of nature around her. And if now her heart ached it was more with grief +for Fanny's fate than dread of her own. There comes, borne upon the +breeze that lifts her dark tresses, and fans her pearly cheeks, the +music of many rural voices--of rippling streams and rustling leaves and +twittering birds and humming bees. + +But mingled with these, at length, there comes to her attentive ear a +sound, or the suspicion of a sound, of distant horse hoofs falling upon +the forest leaves--it draws nearer--it becomes distinct--she knows it +now--it is--it is a troop of British soldiers approaching the house! + +They rode in a totally undisciplined and disorderly manner; reeling in +their saddles, drunken with debauchery, red-hot, reeking from some scene +of fire and blood! + +And in no condition to be operated upon by Edith's beautiful and holy +influences. + +They galloped into the yard--they galloped up to the house--their leader +threw himself heavily from his horse and advanced to the door. + +It was the terrible and remorseless Thorg! No one could doubt the +identity for a single instant. The low, square-built, thick-set body, +the huge head, the bull neck, heavy jowl, coarse, sensual lips, +bloodshot eyes, and fiery visage surrounded with coarse red hair--the +whole brutalized, demonized aspect could belong to no monster in the +universe but that cross between the fiend and the beast called Thorg! +And now he came, intoxicated, inflamed, burning with fierce passions +from some fell scene of recent violence! + +Pale as death, and nearly as calm, Edith awaited his coming. She could +not hope to influence this man or his associates. She knew her fate +now--it was death!--death by her own hand, before that man's foot should +profane her threshold! She knew her fate, and knowing it, grew calm and +strong. There were no more hopes or fears or doubts or trepidations. +Over the weakness of the flesh the spirit ruled victorious, and Edith +stood revealed to herself richly endowed with that heroism she had so +worshiped in others--in that supreme moment mistress of herself and of +her fate. To die by her own hand! but not rashly--not till a trial +should be made--not till the last moment. And how beautiful in this +last fateful moment she looked! The death pallor had passed from her +countenance--the summer breeze was lifting the light black curls--soft +shadows were playing upon the pearly brow--a strange elevation +irradiated her face, and it "shone as it had been the face of an angel." + +"By George! boys, what a pretty wench! Keep back, you d----d rascals!" +(for the men had dismounted and were pressing behind him) "keep back, I +say, you drunken ----! Let rank have precedence in love as in other +things! Your turn may come afterward! Ho! pretty mistress, has your +larder the material to supply my men with a meal?" + +Edith glanced around for her attendants. Jenny lay upon the hall floor, +fallen forward upon her face, in a deep swoon. Oliver stood out upon the +lawn, his teeth chattering, and his knees knocking together with terror, +yet faintly meditating a desperate onslaught to the rescue with his +wooden rake. + +"No matter! for first of all we must have a taste of those dainty lips; +stand back, bl--t you," he vociferated with a volley of appalling oaths, +that sent the disorderly men, who were again crowding behind him, back +into the rear; "we would be alone, d---- you; do you hear?" + +The drunken soldiers fell back, and he advanced toward Edith, who stood +calm in desperate resolution. She raised her hand to supplicate or wave +him off, he did not care which--her other hand, hanging down by her +side, grasped the pistol, which she concealed in the folds of her dress. + +"Hear me," she said, "one moment, I beseech you!" + +The miscreant paused. + +"Proceed, my beauty! Only don't let the grace before meat be too long." + +"I am a soldier's child," said Edith; her sweet, clear voice slightly +quavering like the strings of a lute over which the wind has passed; "I +am a soldier's child--my father died gallantly on the field of battle. +You are soldiers, and will not hurt a soldier's orphan daughter." + +"Not for the universe, my angel; bl----t 'em! let any of 'em hurt a hair +of your head! I only want to love you a little, my beauty! that's +all!--only want to pet you to your heart's content;" and the brute made +a step toward her. + +"Hear me!" exclaimed Edith, raising her hand. + +"Well, well, go on, my dear, only don't be too long!--for my men want +something to eat and drink, and I have sworn not to break my fast until +I know the flavor of those ripe lips." + +Edith's fingers closed convulsively upon the pistol still held bidden. + +"I am alone and defenseless," she said; "I remained here, voluntarily, +to protect our home, because I had faith in the better feelings of men +when they should be appealed to. I had heard dreadful tales of the +ravages of the enemy through neighboring sections of the country. I did +not fully believe them. I thought them the exaggerations of terror, and +knew how such stories grow in the telling. I could not credit the worst, +believing, as I did, the British nation to be an upright and honorable +enemy--British soldiers to be men--and British officers gentlemen. Sir, +have I trusted in vain? Will you not let me and my servants retire in +peace? All that the cellars and storehouses of Luckenough contain is at +your disposal. You will leave myself and attendants unmolested. I have +not trusted in the honor of British soldiers to my own destruction!" + +"A pretty speech, my dear, and prettily spoken--but not half so +persuasive as the sweet wench that uttered it," said Thorg, springing +toward her. + +Edith suddenly raised the pistol--an expression of deadly determination +upon her face. + +Thorg as suddenly fell back. He was an abominable coward in addition to +his other qualities. + +"Seize that girl! Seize and disarm her! What mean you, rascals? Are you +to be foiled by a girl? Seize and disarm her, I say! Are you men?" + +Yes, they were men, and therefore, drunken and brutal as they were, they +hesitated to close upon one helpless girl. + +"H--l fire and furies! surround! disarm her, I say!" vociferated Thorg. + +Edith stood, her hand still grasping the pistol--her other one raised in +desperate entreaty. + +"Oh! one moment! for heaven's sake, one moment! Still hear me! I would +not have fired upon your captain! Nor would I fire upon one of you, who +close upon me only at your captain's order. There is something within me +that shrinks from taking life! even the life of an enemy--any life but +my own, and that only in such a desperate strait as this. Oh! by the +mercy that is in my own heart, show mercy to me! You are men! You have +mothers, or sisters, or wives at home, whom you hope to meet again, when +war and its insanities are over. Oh! for their sakes, show mercy to the +defenseless girl who stands here in your power! Do not compel her to +shed her own blood! for, sure as you advance one step toward me, I pull +this trigger, and fall dead at your feet." And Edith raised the pistol +and placed the muzzle to her own temple--her finger against the trigger. + +The men stood still--the captain swore. + +"H--l fire and flames! Do you intend to stand there all day, to hear the +wench declaim? Seize her, curse you! Wrench that weapon from her hand." + +"Not so quick as I can pull the trigger!" said Edith--her eyes blazing +with the sense of having fate--the worst of fate in her own hands; it +was but a pressure of the finger, to be made quick as lightning, and she +was beyond their power! Her finger was on the trigger--the muzzle of the +pistol, a cold ring of steel, pressed her burning temple! She felt it +kindly--protective as a friend's kiss! + +"Seize her! Seize her, curse you!" cried the brutal Thorg, "what care I +whether she pull the trigger or not? Before the blood cools in her body, +I will have had my satisfaction! Seize her, you infernal--" + +"Captain, countermand your order! I beg, I entreat you, countermand your +order! You yourself will greatly regret having given it, when you are +calmer," said a young officer, riding hastily forward, and now, for the +first time, taking a part in the scene. + +An honorable youth in a band of licensed military marauders. + +"'Sdeath, sir! Don't interfere with me! Seize her, rascals!" + +"One step more, and I pull the trigger!" said Edith. + +"Captain Thorg! This must not be!" persisted the young officer. + +"D--n, sir! Do you oppose me? Do you dare? Fall back, sir, I command +you! Scoundrels! close upon that wench and bind her!" + +"Captain Thorg! This shall not be! Do you hear? Do you understand? I say +this violence shall not be perpetrated!" said the young officer, firmly. + +"D--n, sir! Are you drunk, or mad? You are under arrest, sir! Corporal +Truman, take Ensign Shields' sword!" + +The young man was quickly disarmed, and once more the captain +vociferated: + +"Knock down and disarm that vixen! Obey your orders, villains! Or by +h--l, and all its fiends, I'll have you all court-martialed, and shot +before to-morrow noon!" + +The soldiers closed around the unprotected girl. + +"Lord, all merciful! forgive my sins," she prayed, and with a firm hand +pulled the trigger! + +It did not respond to her touch--it failed! it failed! + +Casting the traitorous weapon from her, she sunk upon her knees, +murmuring: + +"Lost--lost--all is lost!" remained crushed, overwhelmed, awaiting her +fate! + +"Ha! ha! ha! as pretty a little make-believe as ever I saw!" laughed the +brutal Thorg, now perfectly at his ease, and gloating over her beauty, +and helplessness, and, deadly terror. "As pretty a little sham as ever I +saw!" + +"It was no sham! She couldn't sham! I drawed out the shot unbeknownst to +her! I wish, I does, my fingers had shriveled and dropped off afore they +ever did it!" exclaimed Oliver, in a passion of remorse, as he ran +forward, rake in hand. + +He was quickly thrown down and disarmed--no one had any hesitation in +dealing with him. + +"Now then, my fair!" said Thorg, moving toward his victim. + +Edith was now wild with desperation--her eyes flew wildly around in +search of help, where help there seemed none. Then she turned with the +frenzied impulse of flying. + +But the men surrounded to cut off her retreat. + +"Nay, nay, let her run! Let her run! Give her a fair start, and do you +give chase! It will be the rarest sport! Fox-hunting is a good thing, +but girl-chasing must be the very h--l of sport, when I tell you--mind, +I tell you, men--she shall be the exclusive prize of him who catches +her!" swore the remorseless Thorg. + +Edith had gained the back door. + +They started in pursuit. + +"Now, by the living Lord that made me, the first man that lays hands on +her shall die!" suddenly exclaimed the young ensign, wresting his sword +from the hand of the corporal, springing between Edith and her pursuers, +flashing out the blade, and brandishing it in the faces of the foremost. + +He was but a stripling, scarcely older than Edith's self--the arm that +wielded that slender blade scarcely stronger than Edith's own--but the +fire that flashed from the eagle eye showed a spirit to rescue or die in +her defense. + +Thorg threw himself into the most frantic fury--a volley of the most +horrible oaths was discharged from his lips. + +"Upon that villain, men! Beat him down! Slay him! Pin him to the ground +with your bayonets! And then! do your will with the girl!" + +But before this fiendish order could be executed, ay, before it was half +spoken, whirled into the yard a body or about thirty horsemen, galloping +fiercely to the rescue with drawn swords and shouting voices. + +They were nearly three times the number of the foraging soldiers. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +YOUNG AMERICA IN 1814. + + +Young students of the neighboring academy--mere boys of from thirteen to +eighteen years of age, but brave, spirited, vigorous lads, well mounted, +well armed, and led on by the redoubtable college hero, Cloudesley +Mornington. They rushed forward, they surrounded, they fell upon the +marauders with an absolute shower of blows. + +"Give it to them, men! This for Fanny! This for Edith! And this! and +this! and this for both of them!" shouted Cloudesley, as he vigorously +laid about him. "Strike for Hay Hill and vengeance! Let them have it, my +men! And you, little fellows! Small young gentlemen, with the souls of +heroes, and the bodies of elves, who can't strike a very hard blow, aim +where your blows will tell! Aim at their faces. This for Fanny! This for +Edith!" shouted Cloudesley, raining his strokes right and left, but +never at random. + +He fought his way through to the miscreant Thorg. + +Thorg was still on foot, armed with a sword, and laying about him +savagely among the crowd of foes that had surrounded him. + +Cloudesley was still on horseback--he had caught up an ax that lay +carelessly upon the lawn, and now he rushed upon Thorg from behind. + +He had no scruple in taking this advantage of the enemy--no scruple +with an unscrupulous monster--an outlawed wretch--a wild beast to be +destroyed, when and where and how it was possible! + +And so Cloudesley came on behind, and elevating this formidable weapon +in both hands, raising himself in his stirrups and throwing his whole +weight with the stroke, he dealt a blow upon the head of Thorg that +brought him to the earth stunned. From the impetus Cloudesley himself +had received, he had nearly lost his saddle, but had recovered. + +"They fly! They fly! By the bones of Caesar, the miscreants fly! After +them, my men! After them! Pursue! pursue!" shouted Cloudesley, wheeling +his horse around to follow. + +But just then, the young British officer standing near Edith, resting +on his sword, breathing, as it were, after a severe conflict, caught +Cloudesley's eyes. Intoxicated with victory, Cloudesley sprang from his +horse, and raising his ax, rushed up the stairs upon the youth! + +Edith sprang and threw herself before the stripling, impulsively +clasping her arms around him to shield him, and then throwing up one arm +to ward off a blow, looked up and exclaimed: + +"He is my preserver--my preserver, Cloudesley!" + +And what did the young ensign do? Clasped Edith quietly but closely to +his breast. + +It was a beautiful, beautiful picture! + +Nay, any one might understand how it was--that not years upon years of +ordinary acquaintance could have so drawn, so knitted these young hearts +together as those few hours of supreme danger. + +"My preserver, Cloudesley! My preserver!" + +Cloudesley grounded his ax. + +"I don't understand that, Edith! He is a British officer." + +"He is my deliverer! When Thorg set his men on me to hunt me, he cast +himself before me, and kept them at bay until you came!" + +"Mutinied!" exclaimed Cloudesley, in astonishment, and a sort of horror. + +"Yes, I suppose it was mutiny," said the young ensign, speaking for the +first time and blushing as he withdrew his arm from Edith's waist. + +"Whe-ew! here's a go!" Cloudesley was about to exclaim, but remembering +himself he amended his phraseology, and said, "A very embarrassing +situation, yours, sir." + +"I cannot regret it!" + +"Certainly not! There are laws of God and humanity above all military +law, and such you obeyed, sir! I thank you on the part of my young +countrywoman," said Cloudesley, who imagined that he could talk about as +well as he could fight. + +"If the occasion could recur, I would do it again! Yes, a thousand +times!" the young man's eyes added to Edith--only to her. + +"But oh! perdition! while I am talking here that serpent! that +copperhead! that cobra capella! is coming round again! How astonishingly +tenacious of life all foul, venomous creatures are!" exclaimed +Cloudesley, as he happened to espy Throg moving slightly where he lay, +and rushed out to dispatch him. + +The other two young people were left alone in the hall. + +"I am afraid you have placed yourself in a very, very dangerous +situation, by what you did to save me." + +"But do you know--oh, do you know how happy it has made me? Can you +divine how my heart--yes, my soul--burns with the joy it has given me? +When I saw you standing there before your enemies so beautiful! so calm! +so constant--I felt that I could die for you--that I would die for you. +And when I sprang between you and your pursuers, I had resolved to die +for you. But first to set your soul free. Edith, you should not have +fallen into the hands of the soldiers! Yes! I had determined to die for +and with you! You are safe. And whatever befalls me, Edith, will you +remember that?" + +"You are faint! You are wounded! Indeed you are wounded! Oh, where! Oh! +did any of our people strike you?" + +"No--it was one of our men, Edith! I do not know your other name, sweet +lady!" + +"Never mind my name--it is Edith--that will do; but your wound--your +wound--oh! you are very pale--here! lie down upon this settee. Oh, it is +too hard!--come into my room, it opens here upon the hall--there is a +comfortable lounge there--come in and lie down--let me get you +something?" + +"Thanks--thanks, dearest lady, but I must get upon my horse and go!" + +"Go?" + +"Yes, Edith--don't you understand, that after what I have done--after +what I have had the joy of doing--the only honorable course left open +to me, is to go and give myself up to answer the charges that may be +brought against me?" + +"Oh, heaven! I know! I know what you have incurred by defending me! I +know the awful penalty laid upon a military officer who lifts his hand +against his superior. Don't go! oh, don't go!" + +"And do you really take so much interest in my fate, sweetest lady?" +said the youth, gazing at her with the deepest and most delightful +emotions. + +"'Take an interest' in my generous protector! How should I help it? Oh! +don't go! Don't think of going. You will not--will you? Say that you +will not!" + +"You will not advise me to anything dishonorable, I am sure." + +"No--no--but oh! at such a fearful cost you have saved me. Oh! when I +think of it, I wish you had not interfered to defend me. I wish it had +not been done!" + +"And I would not for the whole world that it had not been done! Do not +fear for me, sweetest Edith! I run little risk in voluntarily placing +myself in the hands of a court-martial--for British officers are +gentlemen, Edith!--you must not judge them by those you have seen--and +when they hear all the circumstances, I have little doubt that my act +will be justified--besides, my fate will rest with Ross, General +Ross--one of the most gallant and noble spirits ever created, Edith! +And now you must let me go, fairest lady." And he raised her hand +respectfully to his lips, bowed reverently, and left the hall to find +his horse. + +Just then Cloudesley was seen approaching, crying out that they had +escaped. + +"You are not going to leave us, sir?" he asked Cloudesley, catching +sight of the ensign. + +"I am under the necessity of doing so." + +"But you are not able to travel--you can scarcely sit your horse. Pray +do not think of leaving us." + +"You are a soldier--at least an amateur one, and you will understand +that after what has occurred, I must not seem to hide myself like a +fugitive from justice! In short, I must go and answer for that which I +have done." + +"I understand, but really, sir, you look very ill--you--" + +But here the young officer held out his hand smilingly, took leave of +Cloudesley, and bowing low to Edith, rode off. + +Cloudesley and Edith followed the gallant fellow with their eyes. He had +nearly reached the gate, the old green gate at the farthest end of the +semi-circular avenue, when the horse stopped, the rider reeled and fell +from his saddle. Cloudesley and Edith ran toward him--reached him. +Cloudesley disentangled his foot from the stirrup, and raised him in his +arms. Edith stood pale and breathless by. + +"He has fainted! I knew he was suffering extreme pain. Edith! fly and +get some water! Or rather here! sit down and hold up his head while I +go." + +Edith was quickly down by the side of her preserver, supporting his +head upon her breast. Cloudesley sped toward the house for water and +assistance. When he procured what he wanted and returned, he met the +troop of collegians on their return from the chase of the retreating +marauders. They reported that they had scattered the fugitives in every +direction and lost them in the labyrinths of the forest. + +Several of them dismounted and gathered around the young ensign. + +But Cloudesley was now upon the spot, and while he bathed the face of +the fainting man, explained to them how it was, and requested some one +to ride immediately to the village and procure a physician. Thurston +Willcoxen, the next in command under him, and his chosen +brother-in-arms, mounted his horse and galloped off. + +In the meantime the wounded man was carried to the mansion house and +laid upon a cot in one of the parlors. + +Presently Edith heard wheels roll up to the door and stop. She looked +up. It was the carriage of the surgeon, whom she saw alight and walk up +the steps. She went to meet him, composedly as she could, and conducted +him to the door of the sick-room, which he entered. Edith remained in +the hall, softly walking up and down, and sometimes pausing to listen. + +After a little, the door opened. It was only Solomon Weismann, who asked +for warm water, lint, and a quantity of old linen. These Edith quickly +supplied, and then remained alone in the hall, walking up and down, and +pausing to listen as before; once she heard a deep shuddering groan, as +of one in mortal extremity, and her own heart and frame thrilled to the +sound, and then all was still as before. + +An hour, two hours, passed, and then the door opened again, and Edith +caught a glimpse of the surgeon, with his shirt sleeves pushed above his +elbows, and a pair of bloody hands. It was Solomon who opened the door +to ask for a basin of water, towels and soap, for the doctor to wash. +Edith furnished these also. + +Half an hour passed, and the door opened a third time, and the doctor +himself came out, fresh and smiling. His countenance and his manner were +in every respect encouraging. + +"Come into the drawing-room a moment, if you please, Miss Edith, I want +to speak with you." + +Edith desired nothing more earnestly just at that moment. + +"Well, doctor--your patient?" she inquired, anxiously. + +"Will do very well! Will do very well! That is, if he be properly +attended to, and that is what I wished to speak to you about, Miss +Edith. I have seen you near sick-beds before this, my dear, and know +that I can better trust you than any one to whom I could at present +apply. I intend to install you as his nurse, my dear. When a life +depends upon your care, you will waive any scruples you might otherwise +feel, Miss Edith, I am sure! You will have your old maid, Jenny, to +assist you, and Solomon at hand, in case of an emergency. But I intend +to delegate my authority, and leave my directions with you." + +"Yes, doctor, I will do my very best for your patient." + +"I am sure of that. I am sure of that." + +Edith watched by his cot through all the night, fanning him softly, +keeping his chest covered from the air, giving him his medicine at the +proper intervals, and putting drink to his lips when he needed it. But +never trusted her eyelids to close for a moment. Jenny shared her vigil +by nodding in an easy chair; and Solomon Weismann, a young medical +student, by sleeping soundly on the wooden settee in the hall. So passed +the night. After midnight, to Edith's great relief, his fever began to +abate, and he sank into a sweet sleep. In the morning Solomon roused +himself, and came in and relieved Edith's watch, and attended to the +wants of the patient, while she went to her room to bathe her face and +weary eyes. + +But instead of growing better the patient grew worse, and for days life +was despaired of. The most skillful medical treatment, and the most +careful nursing scarcely saved his life. And even after the imminent +danger was over, it was weeks before he was able to be lifted from the +bed to the sofa. + +In the meantime, Throg, who was also treated by the doctor, recovered. +He took quite an affectionate leave of the young ensign, and with an +appearance of great friendliness and honesty, promised to interest +himself at headquarters in behalf of the young officer. This somehow +filled Edith with a vague distrust, and dark foreboding, for which she +could neither account, nor excuse herself, nor yet shake off. Thorg had +been exchanged, and he joined his regiment after its return from +Washington City, and before it sailed from the shores of America. + +Weeks passed, during which the invalid occupied the sofa in his +room--and Edith was his sole nurse. And then Commodore Waugh, with his +wife, servants and caravan returned to Luckenough. + +The old soldier had been "posted up," he said, relative to all that had +transpired in his absence. + +There were no words, he declared, to express his admiration of Edith's +"heroism." + +It was in vain that Edith assured him that she had not been heroic at +all--that the preservation of Luckenough had been due rather to the +timely succor of the college boys than to her own imprudent resolution. +It did no good--the old man was determined to look upon his niece as a +heroine worthy to stand by the side of Joan of Arc. + +"For," said he, "was it not the soul of a heroine that enabled her to +stay and guard the house; and would the college company ever have come +to the rescue of these old walls if they had not heard that she had +resolutely remained to guard them and was almost alone in the house? +Don't tell me! Edith is the star maiden of old St. Mary's, and I'm proud +of her! She is worthy to be my niece and heiress! A true descendant of +Marie Zelenski, is she! And I'll tell you what I'll do, Edith!" he said, +turning to her, "I'll reward you, my dear! I will. I'll marry you to +Professor Grimshaw! That's what I'll do, my dear! And you both shall +have Luckenough; that you shall!" + +Months passed--the war was over--peace was proclaimed, and still the +young ensign, an invalid, unable to travel, lingered at Luckenough. +Regularly he received his pay; twice he received an extension of leave +of absence; and all through the instrumentality of--Thorg. Yet all this +filled Edith with the greatest uneasiness and foreboding--ungrateful, +incomprehensible, yet impossible to be delivered from. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +EDITH'S TROUBLES. + + +Late in the spring Ensign Michael Shields received orders to join his +regiment in Canada, and upon their reception he had an explanation with +Edith, and with her permission, had requested her hand of her uncle, +Commodore Waugh. This threw the veteran into a towering passion, and +nearly drove him from his proprieties as host. The young ensign was +unacceptable to him upon every account. First and foremost, he wasn't +"Grim," Then he was an Israelite. And, lastly! horror of horrors! he was +a British officer, and dared to aspire to the hand of Edith. It was in +vain that his wife, the good Henrietta, tried to mollify him; the storm +raged for several days--raged, till it had expended all its strength, +and subsided from exhaustion. Then he called Edith and tried to talk the +matter over calmly with her. + +"Now all I have to say to you, Edith, is this," he concluded, "that if +you will have the good sense to marry Mr. Grimshaw, these intentions +shall be more than fulfilled--they shall be anticipated. Upon your +marriage with Grimshaw, I will give you a conveyance of Luckenough--only +reserving to myself and Old Hen a house, and a life-support in the +place; but if you will persist in your foolish preference for that +young scamp, I will give you--nothing. That is all, Edith." + +During the speech Edith remained standing, with her eyes fixed upon the +floor. Now, she spoke in a tremulous voice: + +"That is all--is it not, uncle? You will not deprive me of any portion +of your love; will you, uncle?" + +"I do not know, Edith! I cannot tell; when you have deliberately chosen +one of your own fancy, in preference to one of mine--the man I care most +for in the world, and whom I chose especially for you; why, you've +speared me right through a very tender part; however, as I said before, +what you do, do quickly! I cannot bear to be kept upon the tenter +hooks!" + +"I will talk with Michael, uncle," said Edith, meekly. + +She went out, and found him pacing the lawn at the back of the house. + +He turned toward her with a glad smile, took her hand as she approached +him, and pressed it to his lips. + +"Dearest Edith, where have you been so long?" + +"With my uncle, Michael. I have my uncle's 'ultimatum,' as he calls it." + +"What is it, Edith?" + +"Ah! how shall I tell you without offense? But, dearest Michael you will +not mind--you will forgive an old man's childish prejudices, especially +when you know they are not personal--but circumstantial, national, +bigoted." + +"Well, Edith! well?" + +"Michael, he says--he says that I may give you my hand--" + +"Said he so! Bless that fair hand, and bless him who bestows it!" he +exclaimed, clasping her fingers and pressing them to his lips. + +"Yes, Michael, but--" + +"But what! there is no but; he permits you to give me your hand; there +is then no but--'a jailer to bring forth some monstrous malefactor.'" + +"Yet listen! You know I was to have been his heiress!" + +"No, indeed I did not know it! never heard it! never suspected it! never +even thought of it! How did I know but that he had sons and daughters, +or nephews away at school!" + +"Well, I was to have been his heiress. Now he disinherits me, unless I +consent to be married to his friend and favorite, Dr. Grimshaw." + +"You put the case gently and delicately, dear Edith, but the hard truth +is this--is it not--that he will disinherit you, if you consent to be +mine? You need not answer me, dearest Edith, if you do not wish to; but +listen--I have nothing but my sword, and beyond my boundless love +nothing to offer you but the wayward fate of a soldier's wife. Your eyes +are full of tears. Speak, Edith Lance! Can you share the soldier's +wandering life? Speak, Edith, or lay your hand in mine. Yet, no! no! no! +I am selfish and unjust. Take time, love, to think of all you abandon, +all that you may encounter in joining your fate to mine. God knows what +it has cost me to say it--but--take time, Edith," and he pressed and +dropped her hand. + +"I do not need to do so. My answer to-day, to-morrow, and forever, must +be the same," she answered, in a very low voice; and her eyes sought the +ground, and the blush deepened on her cheek, as she laid her hand in +his. How he pressed that white hand, to his lips, to his heart! How he +clasped her to his breast! How he vowed to love and cherish her as the +dearest treasure of his life need not here be told. + +Edith said: + +"Now take me in to uncle, and tell him, for he asked me not to keep him +in suspense." + +Michael led her into the hall, where the commodore strode up +and down, making the old rafters tremble and quake with every +tread--puffing--blowing over his fallen hopes, like a nor'-wester +over the dead leaves. + +Michael advanced, holding the hand of his affianced, and modestly +announced their engagement. + +"Humph! So the precious business is concluded, is it?" + +"Yes, sir," said Michael, with a bow. + +"Well, I hope you may be as happy as you deserve! When is the proceeding +to come off?" + +"What, sir?" + +"The marriage, young gentleman?" + +"When shall I say, dearest Edith?" asked Michael, stooping to her ear. + +"When uncle pleases," murmured the girl. + +"Uncle pleases nothing, and will have nothing to do with it, except to +advise as early a day as possible," he blurted out; "what says the +bride?" + +"Answer, dearest Edith," entreated Michael Shields. + +"Then let it be at New Year," said Edith, falteringly. + +"Whew!--six months ahead! Entirely too far off!" exclaimed the +commodore. + +"And so it really is, beloved," whispered Michael. + +"Let it be next week," abruptly broke in the commodore. "What's the use +of putting it off? Tuesdays and Thursdays are the marrying days, I +believe; let it then be Tuesday or Thursday." + +"Tuesday," pleaded Michael. + +"Thursday," murmured Edith. + +"The deuce!--if you can't decide, I must decide for you," growled Old +Nick, storming down toward the extremity of the hall, and roaring--"Old +Hen! Old Hen! These fools are to be spliced on Sunday! Now bring me my +pipe;" and the commodore withdrew to his sanctum. + +Good Henrietta came in, took the hand of the young ensign, and pressed +it warmly, saying that he would have a good wife, and wishing them both +much happiness in their union. She drew Edith to her bosom, and kissed +her fondly, but in silence. + +As this was Friday evening, little preparations could be made for the +solemnity to take place on Sunday. Yet Mrs. Henrietta exerted herself to +do all possible honor to the occasion. That very evening she sent out a +few invitations to the dinner and ball, that in those days invariably +celebrated a country wedding. She even invited a few particular friends +to meet the bridal pair at dinner, on their return from church. + +The little interval between this and Sunday morning was passed by Edith +and Shields in making arrangements for their future course. + +Sunday came. + +A young lady of the neighborhood officiated as bridesmaid, and +Cloudesley Mornington as groomsman. The ceremony was to be performed at +the Episcopal Church at Charlotte Hall. The bridal party set forward in +two carriages. They were attended by the commodore and Mrs. Waugh. They +reached the church at an early hour, and the marriage was solemnized +before the morning service. When the entries had been made, and the +usual congratulations passed, the party returned to the carriages. +Before entering his own, Commodore Waugh approached that in which the +bride and bridegroom were already seated, and into which the groomsman +was about to hand the bridesmaid. + +"Stay, you two, you need not enter just yet," said the old man, "I want +to speak with Mr. Shields and his wife, Edith!" + +Edith put her head forward, eagerly. + +"I have nothing against you; but after what has occurred, I don't want +to see you at Luckenough again. Good-by!" Then, turning to Shields, he +said, "I will have your own and your wife's goods forwarded to the +hotel, here," and nodding gruffly, he strode away. + +Cloudesley stormed, Edith begged that the carriage might be delayed yet +a little while. Vain Edith's hope, and vain Mrs. Waugh's expostulations, +Old Nick was not to be mollified. He said that "those who pleased to +remain with the new-married couple, might do so--he should go home! They +did as they liked, and he should do as he liked." Mrs. Waugh, +Cloudesley, and the bridesmaid determined to stay. + +The commodore entered his carriage, and was driven toward home. + +The party then adjourned to the hotel. Mrs. Waugh comforting Edith, +and declaring her intention to stay with her as long as she should +remain in the neighborhood--for Henrietta always did as she pleased, +notwithstanding the opposition of her stormy husband. The young +bridesmaid and Cloudesley also expressed their determination to stand +by their friends to the last. + +Their patience was not put to a very long test. In a few days a packet +was to sail from Benedict to Baltimore, and the young couple took +advantage of the opportunity, and departed, with the good wishes of +their few devoted friends. + +Their destination was Toronto, in Canada, where the young ensign's +regiment was quartered. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +SANS SOUCI. + + +Several miles from the manor of Luckenough, upon a hill not far from the +seacoast, stood the cottage of the Old Fields. + +The property was an appendage to the Manor of Luckenoug--, and was at +this time occupied by a poor relation of Commodore Waugh, his niece, +Mary L'Oiseau, the widow of a Frenchman. Mrs. L'Oiseau had but one +child, a little girl, Jacquelina, now about eight or nine years of age. + +Commodore Waugh had given them the cottage to live in, permission to +make a living, if they could, out of the poor land attached to it. This +was all the help he had afforded his poor niece, and all, as she said, +that she could reasonably expect from one who had so many dependents. +For several years past the little property had afforded her a bare +subsistence. + +And now this year the long drought had parched up her garden and +corn-field, and her cows had failed in their yield of milk for the want +of grass. + +It was upon a dry and burning day, near the last of August, that Mary +L'Oiseau and her daughter sat down to their frugal breakfast. And such a +frugal breakfast! The cheapest tea, with brown sugar, and a corn cake +baked upon the griddle, and a little butter--that was all! It was spread +upon a plain pine table without a tablecloth. + +The furniture of the room was in keeping--a sanded floor, a chest of +drawers, with a small looking-glass, ornamented by a sprig of asparagus, +a dresser of rough pine shelves on the right of the fireplace, and a +cupboard on the left, a half-dozen chip-bottomed chairs, a +spinning-wheel, and a reel and jack, completed the appointments. + +Mrs. L'Oiseau was devouring the contents of a letter, which ran thus: + +"MARY, MY DEAR! I feel as if I had somewhat neglected you, but, the truth +is, my arm is not long enough to stretch from Luckenough to Old Fields. +That being the case, and myself and Old Hen being rather lonesome since +Edith's ungrateful desertion, we beg you to take little Jacko, and come +live with us as long as we may live--and of what may come after that we +will talk at some time. If you will be ready I will send the carriage for +you on Saturday. + +"YOUR UNCLE NICK." + +Mrs. L'Oiseau read this letter with a changing cheek--when she finished +it she folded and laid it aside in silence. + +Then she called to her side her child--her Jacquelina--her Sans +Souci--as for her gay, thoughtless temper she was called. I should here +describe the mother and daughter to you. The mother needs little +description--a pale, black-haired, black-eyed woman, who should have +been blooming and sprightly, but that care had damped her spirits, and +cankered the roses in her cheeks. + +But Jacquelina--Sans Souci--merits a better portrait. She was small +and slight for her years, and, though really near nine, would have +been taken for six or seven. She was fair-skinned, blue-eyed and +golden-haired. And her countenance, full of spirit, courage and +audacity. As she would dart her face upward toward the sun, her round, +smooth, highly polished white forehead would seem to laugh in light +between its clustering curls of burnished gold, that, together with the +little, slightly turned-up nose, and short, slightly protruded upper +lip, gave the charm of inexpressible archness to the most mischievous +countenance alive. In fact her whole form, features, expression and +gestures seemed instinct with mischief--mischief lurked in the kinked +tendrils of her bright hair; mischief looked out and laughed in the +merry, malicious blue eyes; mischief crept slyly over the bows of her +curbed and ruby lips, and mischief played at hide and seek among the +rosy dimples of her blooming cheeks. + +"Now, Jacquelina," said Mrs. L'Oiseau, "you must cure yourself of these +hoydenish tricks of yours before you expose them to your uncle--remember +how whimsical and eccentric he is." + +"So am I! Just as whimsical! I'll do him dirt," said the young lady. + +"Good heaven! Where did you ever pick up such a phrase, and what upon +earth does doing any one 'dirt' mean?" asked the very much shocked lady. + +"I mean I'll grind his nose on the ground, I'll hurry him and worry him, +and upset him, and cross him, and make him run his head against the +wall, and butt his blundering brains out. What did he turn Fair Edith +away for? Oh! I'll pay him off! I'll settle with him! Fair Edith shan't +be in his debt for her injuries very long." + +From her pearly brow and pearly cheeks, "Fair Edith" was the name by +which the child had heard her cousin once called, and she had called her +thus ever since. + +Mrs. L'Oiseau answered gravely. + +"Your uncle gave Edith a fair choice between his own love and +protection, and the great benefits he had in store for her, and the +love of a stranger and foreigner, whom he disapproved and hated. Edith +deliberately chose the latter. And your uncle had a perfect right to act +upon her unwise decision." + +"And for my part, I know he hadn't--all of my own thoughts. Oh! I'll do +him--" + +"Hush! Jacquelina. You shall not use such expressions. So much comes of +my letting you have your own way, running down to the beach and watching +the boats, and hearing the vulgar talk of the fishermen." + +On Saturday, at the hour specified, the carriage came to Old Field +Cottage, and conveyed Mrs. L'Oiseau and her child to Luckenough. They +were very kindly received by the commodore, and affectionately embraced +by Henrietta, who conducted them to a pleasant room, where they could +lay off their bonnets, and which they were thenceforth to consider as +their own apartment. This was not the one which had been occupied by +Edith. Edith's chamber had been left undisturbed and locked up by Mrs. +Waugh, and was kept ever after sacred to her memory. + +The sojourn of Mrs. L'Oiseau and Jacquelina at Luckenough was an +experiment on the part of the commodore. He did not mean to commit +himself hastily, as in the case of his sudden choice of Edith as his +heiress. He intended to take a good, long time for what he called +"mature deliberation"--often one of the greatest enemies to upright, +generous, and disinterested action--to hope, faith, and charity, that I +know of, by the way. Commodore Waugh also determined to have his own +will in all things, this time at least. He had the vantage ground now, +and was resolved to keep it. He had caught Sans Souci young, before she +could possibly have formed even a childish predilection for one of the +opposite sex, and he was determined to raise and educate a wife for his +beloved Grim. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE BLIGHTED HEART. + + +In February the deepest snow storm fell that had fallen during the whole +winter. The roads were considered quite impassable by carriages, and the +family at Luckenough were blocked up in their old house. Yet one day, in +the midst of this "tremendous state of affairs," as the commodore called +it, a messenger from Benedict arrived at Luckenough, the bearer of a +letter to Mrs. Waugh, which he refused to intrust to any other hands but +that lady's own. He was, therefore, shown into the presence of the +mistress, to whom he presented the note. Mrs. Waugh took it and looked +at it with some curiosity--it was superscribed in a slight feminine +hand--quite new to Henrietta; and she opened it, and turned immediately +to the signature--Marian Mayfield--a strange name to her; she had never +seen or heard it before. She lost no more time in perusing the letter, +but as she read, her cheek flushed and paled--her agitation became +excessive, she was obliged to ring for a glass of water, and as soon as +she had swallowed it she crushed and thrust the letter into her bosom, +ordered her mule to be saddled instantly, and her riding pelisse and +hood to be brought. In two hours and a half Henrietta reached the +village, and alighted at the little hotel. Of the landlord, who came +forth respectfully to meet her, she demanded to be shown immediately to +the presence of the young lady who had recently arrived from abroad. The +host bowed, and inviting the lady to follow him, led the way to the +little private parlor, the door of which he opened to let the visitor +pass in, and then bowing again, he closed it and retired. + +And Mrs. Waugh found herself in a small, half-darkened room, where, +reclining in an easy chair, sat--Edith? Was it Edith? Could it be Edith? +That fair phantom of a girl to whom the black ringlets and black dress +alone seemed to give outline and personality? Yes, it was Edith! But, +oh! so changed! so wan and transparent, with such blue shadows in the +hollows of her eyes and temples and cheeks--with such heavy, heavy +eyelids, seemingly dragged down by the weight of their long, sleeping +lashes--with such anguish in the gaze of the melting, dark eyes! + +"Edith, my love! My dearest Edith!" said Mrs. Waugh, going to her. + +She half arose, and sank speechless into the kind arms opened to receive +her. Mrs. Waugh held her to her bosom a moment in silence, and then +said: + +"Edith, my dear, I got a note from your friend, Miss Mayfield, saying +that you had returned, and wished to see me. But how is this, my child? +You have evidently been very ill--you are still. Where is your husband, +Edith? Edith, where is your husband?" + +A shiver that shook her whole frame--a choking, gasping sob, was all the +answer she could make. + +"Where is he, Edith? Ordered away somewhere, upon some distant service? +That is hard, but never mind! Hope for the best! You will meet him +again, dear? But where is he, then?" + +She lifted up her poor head, and uttering--"Dead! dead!" dropped it +heavily again upon the kind, supporting bosom. + +"You do not mean it! My dear, you do not mean it! You do not know what +you are saying! Dead! when? how?" asked Mrs. Waugh, in great trouble. + +"Shot! shot!" whispered the poor thing, in a tone so hollow, it seemed +reverberating through a vault. And then her stricken head sank heavily +down--and Henrietta perceived that strength and consciousness had +utterly departed. She placed her in the easy chair, and turned around to +look for restoratives, when a door leading into an adjoining bedroom +opened, and a young girl entered, and came quietly and quickly forward +to the side of the sufferer. She greeted Mrs. Waugh politely, and then +gave her undivided attention to Edith, whose care she seemed fully +competent to undertake. + +This young girl was not over fourteen years of age, yet the most +beautiful and blooming creature, Mrs. Waugh thought, that she had ever +beheld. + +Her presence in the room seemed at once to dispel the gloom and shadow. + +She took Edith's hand, and settled her more at ease in the chair--but +refused the cologne and the salammoniac that Mrs. Waugh produced, +saying, cheerfully: + +"She has not fainted, you perceive--she breathes--it is better to leave +her to nature for a while--too much attention worries her--she is very +weak." + +Marian had now settled her comfortably back in the resting chair, and +stood by her side, not near enough to incommode her in the least. + +"I do not understand all this. She says that her husband is dead, poor +child--how came it about? Tell me!" said Mrs. Waugh, in a low voice. + +Marian's clear blue eyes filled with tears, but she dropped their white +lids and long black lashes over them, and would not let them fall; and +her ripe lips quivered, but she firmly compressed them, and remained +silent for a moment. Then she said, in a whisper: + +"I will tell you by and by," and she glanced at Edith, to intimate that +the story must not be rehearsed in her presence, however insensible she +might appear to be. + +"You are the young lady who wrote to me?" + +"Yes, madam." + +"You are a friend of my poor girl's?" + +"Something more than that, madam--I will tell you by and by," said +Marian, and her kind, dear eyes were again turned upon Edith, and +observing the latter slightly move, she said, in her pleasant voice: + +"Edith, dear, shall I put you to bed--are you able to walk?" + +"Yes, yes," murmured the sufferer, turning her head uneasily from side +to side. + +Marian gave her hand, and assisted the poor girl to rise, and tenderly +supported her as she walked to the bedroom. + +Mrs. Waugh arose to give her assistance, but Marian shook her head at +her, with a kindly look, that seemed to say, "Do not startle her--she is +used only to me lately," and bore her out of sight into the bedroom. + +Presently she reappeared in the little parlor, opened the blinds, drew +back the curtains, and let the sunlight into the dark room. Then she +ordered more wood to the fire, and when it was replenished, and the +servant had left the room, she invited Mrs. Waugh to draw her chair to +the hearth, and then said: + +"I am ready now, madam, to tell you anything you wish to know--indeed I +had supposed that you were acquainted with everything relating to +Edith's marriage, and its fatal results." + +"I know absolutely nothing but what I have learned to-day. We never +received a single letter, or message, or news of any kind, or in any +shape, from Edith or her husband, from the day they left until now." + +"Yon did not hear, then, that he was court-martialed, and--sentenced to +death!" + +"No, no--good heaven, no!" + +"He was tried for mutiny or rebellion--I know not which--but it was for +raising arms against his superior officers while here in America--the +occasion was--but you know the occasion better than I do." + +"Yes, yes, it was when he rescued Edith from the violence of Thorg and +his men. But oh! heaven, how horrible! that he should have been +condemned to death for a noble act! It is incredible--impossible--how +could it have happened? He never expected such a fate--none of us did, +or we would never have consented to his return. There seemed no prospect +of such a thing. How could it have been?" + +"There was treachery, and perhaps perjury, too. He had an insidious and +unscrupulous enemy, who assumed the guise of repentance, and candor, and +friendship, the better to lure him into his toils--it was the infamous +Colonel Thorg, who received the command of the regiment, in reward for +his great services in America. And Michael's only powerful friend, who +could and would have saved him--was dead. General Ross, you are aware, +was killed in the battle of Baltimore." + +"God have mercy on poor Edith! How long has it been since, this +happened, my dear girl?" + +"When they reached Toronto, in Canada West, the regiment commanded by +Thorg was about to sail for England. On its arrival at York, in England, +a court-martial was formed, and Michael was brought to trial. There was +a great deal of personal prejudice, distortion of facts, and even +perjury--in short, he was condemned and sentenced one day and led out +and shot the next!" + +There was silence between them then. Henrietta sat in pale and +speechless horror. + +"But how long is it since my poor Edith has been so awfully widowed?" at +length inquired Mrs. Waugh. + +"Nearly four months," replied Marian, in a tremulous voice. "For six +weeks succeeding his death, she was not able to rise from her bed. I +came from school to nurse her. I found her completely prostrated under +the blow. I wonder she had not died. What power of living on some +delicate frames seem to have. As soon as she was able to sit up, I began +to think that it would be better to remove her from the strange country, +the theatre of her dreadful sufferings, and to bring her to her own +native land, among her own friends and relatives, where she might resume +the life and habits of her girlhood, and where, with nothing to remind +her of her loss, she might gradually come to look upon the few wretched +months of her marriage, passed in England, as a dark dream. Therefore I +have brought her back." + +"And you, my dear child," she said, "you were Michael Shields' sister?" + +"No, madam, no kin to him--and yet more than kin--for he loved me, and I +loved him more than any one else in the world, as I now love his poor +young widow. This was the way of it, Mrs. Waugh: Michael's father and my +mother had both been married before, and we were children of the first +marriages; when Michael was fourteen years old, and I was seven, our +parents were united, and we grew up together. About two years ago, +Michael's father died. My mother survived him only five months, and +departed, leaving me in charge of her stepson. We had no friends but +each other. Our parents, since their union, had been isolated beings, +for this reason--his father was a Jew--my mother a Christian--therefore +the friends and relatives on either side were everlastingly offended by +their marriage. Therefore we had no one but each other. The little +property that was left was sold, and the proceeds enabled Michael to +purchase a commission in the regiment about to sail for America, and +also to place me at a good boarding school, where I remained until his +return, and the catastrophe that followed it. + +"Lady, all passed so suddenly, that I knew no word of his return, much +less of his trial or execution, until I received a visit from the +chaplain who had attended his last moments, and who brought me his +farewell letter, and his last informal will, in which the poor fellow +consigned me to the care of his wife, soon to be a widow, and enjoined +me to leave school and seek her at once, and inclosed a check for the +little balance he had in bank. I went immediately, found her insensible +through grief, as I said--and, lady, I told you the rest." + +Henrietta was weeping softly behind the handkerchief she held at her +eyes. At last she repeated: + +"You say he left you in his widow's charge?" + +"Yes, madam." + +"Left his widow in yours, rather, you good and faithful sister." + +"It was the same thing, lady; we were to live together, and to support +each other." + +"But what was your thought, my dear girl, in bringing her here?" + +"I told you, lady, that in her own native land, among her own kinsfolk, +she might be comforted, and might resume her girlhood's thoughts and +habits, and learn to forget the strange, dark passages of her short +married life, passed in a foreign country." + +"But, my dear girl, did you not know, had you never heard that her uncle +disowned her for marrying against his will?" + +"Something of that I certainly heard from Edith, lady, when I first +proposed to her to come home. But she was very weak, and her thoughts +very rambling, poor thing--she could not stick to a point long, and I +overruled and guided her--I could not believe but that her friends would +take her poor widowed heart to their homes again. But if it should be +otherwise, still--" + +"Well?--still?" + +"Why, I cannot regret having brought her to her native soil--for, if we +find no friends in America, we have left none in England--a place +besides full of the most harrowing recollections, from which this place +is happily free. America also offers a wider field for labor than +England does, and if her friends behave badly, why I will work for her, +and--for her child if it should live." + +"Dear Marian, you must not think by what I said just now, that I am not +a friend of Edith. I am, indeed. I love her almost as if she were my own +daughter. I incurred my husband's anger by remaining with her after her +marriage until she sailed. I will not fail her now, be sure. Personally, +I will do my utmost for her. I will also try to influence her uncle in +her favor. And now, my dear, it is getting very late, and there is a +long ride, and a dreadful road before me. The commodore is already +anxious for me, I know, and if I keep him waiting much longer, he will +be in no mood to be persuaded by me. So I must go. To-morrow, my dear, a +better home shall be found for you and Edith. That I promise upon my own +responsibility. And, now, my dear, excellent girl, good-by. I will see +you again in the morning." + +And Mrs. Waugh took leave. + +"No," thundered Commodore Waugh, thrusting his head forward and bringing +his stick down heavily upon the floor. "No, I say! I will not be +bothered with her or her troubles. Don't talk to me! I care nothing +about them! What should her trials be to me? The precious affair has +turned out just as I expected it would! Only what I did not expect was +that we should have her back upon our hands! I wonder at Edith! I +thought she had more pride than to come back to me for comfort after +leaving as she did!" + +This was all the satisfaction Mrs. Waugh got from Old Nick, when she had +related to him the sorrowful story of Edith's widowhood and return, and +had appealed to his generosity in her behalf. But he unbent so far as to +allow Edith and Marian to be installed at Mrs. L'Oiseau's cottage, and +even grudgingly permitted Henrietta to settle a pension upon her. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +WANDERING FANNY. + + +It was a jocund morning in early summer--some five years after the +events related in the last chapter. + +Old Field Cottage was a perfect gem of rural beauty. The Old Fields +themselves no longer deserved the name--the repose of years had restored +them to fertility, and now they were blooming in pristine youth--far as +the eye could reach between the cottage and the forest, and the cottage +and the sea-beach, the fields were covered with a fine growth of sweet +clover, whose verdure was most refreshing to the sight. The young trees +planted by Marian, had grown up, forming a pleasant grove around the +house. The sweet honeysuckle and fragrant white jasmine, and the rich, +aromatic, climbing rose, had run all over the walls and windows of the +house, embowering it in verdure, bloom and perfume. + +While Marian stood enjoying for a few moments the morning hour, she was +startled by the sound of rapid footsteps, and then by the sight of a +young woman in wild attire, issuing from the grove at the right of the +cottage, and flying like a hunted hare toward the house. + +Marian impulsively opened the gate, and the creature fled in, +frantically clapped to the gate, and stood leaning with her back +against it, and panting with haste and terror. + +She was a young and pretty woman--pretty, notwithstanding the wildness +of her staring black eyes and the disorder of her long black hair that +hung in tangled tresses to her waist. Her head and feet were bare, and +her white gown was spotted with green stains of the grass, and torn by +briars, as were also her bleeding feet and arms. Marian felt for her the +deepest compassion; a mere glance had assured her that the poor, +panting, pretty creature was insane. Marian took her hand and gently +pressing it, said: + +"You look very tired and faint--come in and rest yourself and take +breakfast with us." + +The stranger drew away her hand and looked at Marian from head to foot. +But in the midst of her scrutiny, she suddenly sprang, glanced around, +and trembling violently, grasped the gate for support. It was but the +tramping of a colt through the clover that had startled her. + +"Do not be frightened; there is nothing that can hurt you; you are safe +here." + +"And won't he come?" + +"Who, poor girl?" + +"The Destroyer!" + +"No, poor one, no destroyer comes near us here; see how quiet and +peaceable everything is here!" + +The wanderer slowly shook her head with a cunning, bitter smile, that +looked stranger on her fair face than the madness itself had looked, +and: + +"So it was there," she said, "but the Destroyer was at hand, and +the thunder of terror and destruction burst upon our quiet--but I +forgot--the fair spirit said I was not to think of that--such thoughts +would invoke the fiend again," added the poor creature, smoothing her +forehead with both hands, and then flinging them wide, as if to dispel +and cast away some painful concentration there. + +"But now come in and lie down on the sofa, and rest, while I make you a +cup of coffee," said Marian. + +But the same expression of cunning came again into the poor creature's +face, as she said: + +"In the house? No, no--no, no! Fanny has learned something. Fanny knows +better than to go under roofs--they are traps to catch rabbits! 'Twas in +the house the Destroyer found us, and we couldn't get out! No, no! a +fair field and no favor and Fanny will outfly the fleetest of them! But +not in a house, not in a house!" + +"Well, then I will bring an easy chair out here for you to rest in--you +can sit under the shade, and have a little stand by your side, to eat +your breakfast. Come; come nearer to the house," said Marian, taking +poor Fanny's hand, and leading her up the walk. + +They were at the threshold. + +"Are you Marian?" poor Fanny asked, abruptly. + +"Yes, that is my name." + +"Oh, I oughtn't to have come here! I oughtn't to have come here!" + +"Why? What is the matter? Come, be calm! Nothing can hurt you or us +here!" + +"Don't love! Marian, don't love! Be a nun, or drown yourself, but +never love!" said the woman, seizing the young girl's hands, gazing on +her beautiful face, and speaking with intense and painful earnestness. + +"Why? Love is life. You had as well tell me not to live as not to love. +Poor sister! I have not known you an hour, yet your sorrows so touch me, +that my heart goes out toward you, and I want to bring you in to our +home, and take care of you," said Marian, gently. + +"You do?" asked the wanderer, incredulously. + +"Heaven knows I do! I wish to nurse you back to health and calmness." + +"Then I would not for the world bring so much evil to you! Yet it is a +lovelier place to die in, with loving faces around." + +"But it is a better place to live in! I do not let people die where I +am, unless the Lord has especially called them. I wish to make you well! +Come, drive away all these evil fancies and let me take you into the +cottage," said Marian, taking her hand. + +Yielding to the influence of the young girl, poor Fanny suffered herself +to be led a few steps toward the cottage; then, with a piercing shriek, +she suddenly snatched her hand away, crying: + +"I should draw the lightning down upon your head! I am doomed! I must +not enter!" And she turned and fled out of the gate. + +Marian gazed after her in the deepest compassion, the tears filling her +kind blue eyes. + +"Weep not for me, beautiful and loving Marian, but for +yourself--yourself!" + +Marian hesitated. It were vain to follow and try to draw the wanderer +into the house; yet she could not bear the thought of leaving her. In +the meantime the sound of the shriek had brought Edith out. She came, +leading her little daughter Miriam, now five years old, by the hand. + +Edith was scarcely changed in these five years--a life without +excitement or privation or toil--a life of moderation and regularity--of +easy household duties, and quiet family affections, had restored and +preserved her maiden beauty. And now her pretty hair had its own will, +and fell in slight, flossy black ringlets down each side the pearly brow +and cheeks; and nothing could have been more in keeping with the style +of her beauty than the simple, close-fitting black gown, her habitual +dress. + +But lovely as the young mother was, you would scarcely have looked at +her a second time while she held that child by her hand--so marvelous +was the fascination of that little creature's countenance. It was a face +to attract, to charm, to delight, to draw you in, and rivet your whole +attention, until you became absorbed and lost in the study of its +mysterious spell--a witching face, whose nameless charm it were +impossible to tell, I might describe the fine dark Jewish features, the +glorious eyes, the brilliant complexion, and the fall of long, glossy, +black ringlets that veiled the proud little head; but the spell lay not +in them, any more than in the perfect symmetry of her form, or the +harmonious grace of her motion, or the melodious intonations of her +voice. + +Edith, still leading the little girl, advanced to Marian's side, where +the latter stood at the yard gate. + +"I heard a scream, Marian, dear--what was it?" + +Marian pointed to the old elm tree outside the cottage fence, under the +shade of which stood the poor stroller, pressing her side, and panting +for breath. + +"Edith, do you see that young woman? She it was." + +"Good heaven!" exclaimed Edith, turning a shade paler, and beginning, +with trembling fingers, to unfasten the gate. + +"Why, do you know her, Edith?" + +"Yes! yes! My soul, it is Fanny Laurie! I thought she was in some asylum +at the North!" said Edith, passing the gate, and going up to the +wanderer. "Fanny! Fanny! Dearest Fanny!" she said, taking her thin hand, +and looking in her crazed eyes and lastly, putting both arms around her +neck and kissing her. + +"Do you kiss me?" asked the poor creature, in amazement. + +"Yes, dear Fanny! Don't you know me?" + +"Yes, yes, you are--I know you--you are--let's see, now--" + +"Edith Lance, you know--your old playmate!" + +"Ah! yes, I know--you had another name." + +"Edith Shields, since I was married, but I am widowed now, Fanny." + +"Yes, I know--Fanny has heard them talk!" + +She swept her hands across her brow several times, as if to clear her +mental vision, and gazing upon Edith, said: + +"Ah! old playmate! Did the palms lie? The ravaged tome, the +blood-stained hearth, and the burning roof for me--the fated nuptials, +the murdered bridegroom, and the fatherless child for you. Did the palms +lie, Edith? You were ever incredulous! Answer, did the palms lie?" + +"The prediction was partly fulfilled, as it was very likely to be at the +time our neighborhood was overrun by a ruthless foe. It happened so, +poor Fanny! You did not know the future, any more than I did--no one on +earth knows the mysteries of the future, 'not the angels in heaven, nor +the Son, but the Father only.'" + +This seemed to annoy the poor creature--soothsaying, by palmistry, had +been her weakness in her brighter days, and now the strange propensity +clung to her through the dark night of her sorrows, and received +strength from her insanity. + +"Come in, dear Fanny," said Edith, "come in and stay with us." + +"No, no!" she almost shrieked again. "I should bring a curse upon your +house! Oh! I could tell you if you would hear! I could warn you, if you +would be warned! But you will not! you will not!" she continued, +wringing her hands in great trouble. + +"You shall predict my fate and Miriam's," said Marian, smiling, as she +opened the gate, and came out leading the child. "And I know," she +continued, holding out her palm, "that it will be such a fair fate, as +to brighten up your spirits for sympathy with it." + +"No! I will not look at your hand!" cried Fanny, turning away. Then, +suddenly changing her mood, she snatched Marian's palm, and gazed upon +it long and intently; gradually her features became disturbed--dark +shadows seemed to sweep, as a funereal train, across her face--her bosom +heaved--she dropped the maiden's hand. + +"Why, Fanny, you have told me nothing! What do you see in my future?" +asked Marian. + +The maniac looked up, and breaking, as she sometimes did, into +improvisation, chanted, in the most mournful of tones, these words: + +"Darkly, deadly, lowers the shadow, + Quickly, thickly, comes the crowd-- +From death's bosom creeps the adder, + Trailing slime upon the shroud!" + +Marian grew pale, so much, at the moment, was she infected with the +words and manner of this sybil; but then, "Nonsense!" she thought, and, +with a smile, roused herself to shake off the chill that was creeping +upon her. + +"Feel! the air! the air!" said Fanny, lifting her hand. + +"Yes, it is going to rain," said Edith. "Come in, dear Fanny." + +But Fanny did not hear--the fitful, uncertain creature had seized the +hand of the child Miriam, and was gazing alternately upon the lines in +the palm and upon her fervid, eloquent face. + +"What is this? Oh! what is this?" she said, sweeping the black tresses +back from her bending brow, and fastening her eyes upon Miriam's palm. +"What can it mean? A deep cross from the Mount of Venus crosses the line +of life, and forks into the line of death! a great sun in the plain of +Mars--a cloud in the vale of Mercury! and where the lines of life and +death meet, a sanguine spot and a great star! I cannot read it! In a +boy's hand, that would betoken a hero's career, and a glorious death in +a victorious field; but in a girl's! What can it mean when found in a +girl's? Stop!" And she peered into the hand for a few moments in deep +silence, and then her face lighted up, her eyes burned intensely, and +once more she broke forth in improvisation: + +"Thou shalt be bless'd as maiden fair was never bless'd before, +And the heart of thy belov'd shall be most gentle, kind and pure; +But thy red hand shall be lifted at duty's stern behest, +And give to fell destruction the head thou lov'st the best. + +"Feel! the air! the air!" she exclaimed, suddenly dropping the child's +hand, and lifting her own toward the sky. + +"Yes, I told you it was going to rain, but there will not be much, only +a light shower from the cloud just over our heads." + +"It is going to weep! Nature mourns for her darling child! Hark! I hear +the step of him that cometh! Fly, fair one! fly! Stay not here to listen +to the voice of the charmer, charm he never so wisely!" cried the wild +creature, as she dashed off toward the forest. + +Marian and Edith looked after her, in the utmost compassion. + +"Who is the poor, dear creature, Edith, and what has reduced her to this +state?" + +"She was an old playmate of my own, Marian. I never mentioned her to +you--I never could bear to do so. She was one of the victims of the war. +She was the child of Colonel Fairlie and the bride of Henry Laurie, one +of the most accomplished and promising young men in the State. In one +night their house was attacked, and Fanny saw her father and her husband +massacred, and her home burned before her face! She--fell into the hands +of the soldiers! She went mad from that night!" + +"Most horrible!" ejaculated Marian. + +"She was sent to one of the best Northern asylums, and the property she +inherited was placed in the hands of a trustee--old Mr. Hughes, who died +last week, you know; and now that he is dead and she is out, I don't +know what will be done, I don't understand it at all." + +"Has she no friends, no relatives? She must not be allowed to wander in +this way," said the kind girl, with the tears swimming in her eyes. + +"I shall always be her friend, Marian. She has no others that I know of +now; and no relative, except her young cousin, Thurston Willcoxen, who +has been abroad at a German University these five years past, and who, +in event of Fanny's death, would inherit her property. We must get her +here, if possible. I will go in and send Jenny after her. She will +probably overtake her in the forest, and may be able to persuade her to +come back. At least, I shall tell Jenny to keep her in sight, until she +is in some place of safety." + +"Do, dear Edith!" + +"Are you not coming?" said Edith, as she led her little girl toward the +house. + +"In one moment, dear; I wish only to bind up this morning-glory, that +poor Fanny chanced to pull down as she ran through." + +Edith disappeared in the cottage. + +Marian stood with both her rosy arms raised, in the act of binding up +the vine, that with its wealth of splendid azure-hued, vase-shaped +flowers, over-canopied her beautiful head like a triumphal arch. She +stood there, as I said, like a radiant, blooming goddess of life and +health, summer sunshine and blushing flowers. + +The light tramp of horse's feet fell upon her ear. She looked up, and +with surprise lighting her dark-blue eyes, beheld a gentleman mounted on +a fine black Arabian courser, that curveted gracefully and capriciously +before the cottage gate. + +Smilingly the gentleman soothed and subdued the coquettish mood of his +willful steed, and then dismounted and bowing with matchless grace and +much deference, addressed Marian. + +The maiden was thinking that she had never seen a gentleman with a +presence and a manner so graceful, courteous and princely in her life. +He was a tall, finely proportioned, handsome man, with a superb head, an +aquiline profile, and fair hair and fair complexion. The great charm, +however, was in the broad, sunny forehead, in the smile of ineffable +sweetness, in the low and singularly mellifluous voice, and the manner, +gentle and graceful as any woman's. + +"Pardon me, my name is Willcoxen, young lady, and I have the honor of +addressing--" + +"Miss Mayfield," said Marian. + +"Thank you," said the gentleman, with one involuntary gaze of +enthusiastic admiration that called all the roses out in full bloom upon +the maiden's cheeks; then governing himself, he bent his eyes to the +ground, and said, with great deference: "You will pardon the liberty I +have taken in calling here, Miss Mayfield, when I tell you that I am in +search of an unhappy young relative, who, I am informed, passed here not +long since." + +"She left us not ten minutes ago, sir, much against our wishes. My +sister has just sent a servant to the forest in search of her, to bring +her back, if possible. Will you enter, and wait till she returns?" + +With a beaming smile and graceful bend, and in the same sweet tones, he +thanked her, and declined the invitation. Then he remounted his horse, +and bowing deeply, rode off in the direction Fanny had taken. + +This was certainly a day of arrivals at Old Fields. Usually weeks would +pass without any one passing to or from the cottage, except Marian, +whose cheerful, kindly, social disposition, was the sole connecting link +between the cottage and the neighborhood around it. But this day seemed +to be an exception. + +While yet the little party lingered at the breakfast-table, Edith looked +up, and saw the tall, thin figure of a woman in a nankeen riding-shirt, +and a nankeen corded sun-bonnet, in the act of dismounting from her +great, raw-boned white horse, + +"If there isn't Miss Nancy Skamp!" exclaimed Edith, in no very +hospitable tone--"and I wonder how she can leave the post-office." + +"Oh! this is not mail day!" replied Marian, laughing, "notwithstanding +which we shall have news enough." And Marian who, for her part, was +really glad to see the old lady, arose to meet and welcome her. + +Miss Nancy was little changed; the small, tall, thin, narrow-chested, +stooping figure--the same long, fair, freckled, sharp set face--the +same prim cap, and clean, scant, faded gown, or one of the same +sort--made up her personal individuality. Miss Nancy now had charge of +the village post-office; and her early and accurate information +respecting all neighborhood affairs, was obtained, it was whispered, by +an official breach of trust; if so, however, no creature except Miss +Nancy, her black boy, and her white cat, knew it. She was a great news +carrier, it is true, yet she was not especially addicted to scandal. To +her, news was news, whether good or bad, and so she took almost as much +pleasure in exciting the wonder of her listeners by recounting the good +action or good fortune of her neighbors or the reverse. + +And so, after having dropped her riding-skirt, and given that and her +bonnet to Marian to carry up-stairs, and seated herself in the chair +that Edith offered her at the table, she said, sipping her coffee, and +glancing between the white curtains and the green vines of the open +window out upon the bay: + +"You have the sweetest place, and the finest sea view here, my dear Mrs. +Shields; but that is not what I was a-going to say. I was going to tell +you that I hadn't hearn from you so long, that I thought I must take an +early ride this morning, and spend the day with you. And I thought you'd +like to hear about your old partner at the dancing-school, young Mr. +Thurston Willcoxen, a-coming back--la, yes! to be sure! we had almost +all of us forgotten him, leastwise I had. And then, Miss Marian," she +said, as our blooming girl returned to her place at the table, "I just +thought I would bring over that muslin for the collars and caps you were +so good as to say you'd make for me." + +"Yes, I am glad you brought them, Miss Nancy," said Marian, in her +cheerful tone, as she helped herself to another roll. + +"I hope you are not busy now, my dear." + +"Oh, I'm always busy, thank Heaven! but that makes no difference, Miss +Nancy; I shall find time to do your work this week and next." + +"I am sure it is very good of you, Miss Marian, to sew for me for +nothing; when--" + +"Oh, pray, don't speak of it, Miss Nancy." + +"But indeed, my dear, I must say I never saw anybody like you! If +anybody's too old to sew, and too poor to put it out, it is 'Miss +Marian' who will do it for kindness; and if anybody is sick, it is 'Miss +Marian' who is sent for to nurse them; and if any poor negro, or +ignorant white person, has friends off at a distance they want to hear +from, it is 'Miss Marian' who writes all their letters!" + +When they arose from breakfast, and the room was tidied up, and Edith, +and Marian, and their guest, were seated at their work, with all the +cottage windows open to admit the fresh and fragrant air, and the rural +landscape on one side, and the sea view on the other, and while little +Miriam sat at their feet dressing a nun doll, and old Jenny betook +herself to the garden to gather vegetables for the day, Miss Nancy +opened her budget, and gave them all the news of the month. But in that +which concerned Thurston Willcoxen alone was Edith interested, and of +him she learned the following facts: Of the five years which Mr. +Willcoxen had been absent in the eastern hemisphere, three had been +spent at the German University, where he graduated with the highest +honors; eighteen months had been passed in travel through Europe, Asia, +and Africa; and the last year had been spent in the best circles in the +city of Paris. He had been back to his native place about three weeks. +Since the death of Fanny Laurie's old guardian, the judge of the +Orphans' Court had appointed him sole trustee of her property, and +guardian of her person. As soon as he had received this power, he had +gone to the asylum, where the poor creature was confined, and hearing +her pronounced incurable, though harmless, he had set her at liberty, +brought her home to his own house, and had hired a skillful, attentive +nurse to wait upon her. + +"And you never saw such kindness and compassion, Miss Marian, except in +yourself. I do declare to you, that his manner to that poor unfortunate +is as delicate and reverential and devoted as if she were the most +accomplished and enviable lady in the land, and more so, Miss Marian, +more so!" + +"I can well believe it! He looks like that!" said the beautiful girl, +her face flushing and her eyes filling with generous sympathy. But +Marian was rather averse to sentimentality, so dashing the sparkling +drops from her blushing cheeks, she looked up and said: "Miss Nancy, we +are going to have chickens for dinner. How do you like them cooked? It +don't matter a bit to Edith and me." + +"Stewed, then, if you please, Miss Marian! or stop--no--I think baked in +a pie!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE FOREST FAIRY. + + +On the afternoon of the same day spent by Miss Nancy Skamp at Old Field +Cottage, the family at Luckenough were assembled in that broad, central +passage, their favorite resort in warm weather. + +Five years had made very little alteration here, excepting in the case +of Jacquelina, who had grown up to be the most enchanting sprite that +ever bewitched the hearts, or turned the heads of men. She was petite, +slight, agile, graceful; clustering curls of shining gold encircled a +round, white forehead, laughing in light; springs under springs of fun +and frolic sparkled up from the bright, blue eyes, whose flashing light +flew bird-like everywhere, but rested nowhere. She seemed even less +human and irresponsible than when a child--verily a being of the air, +a fairy, without human thoughtfulness, or sympathy, or affections! She +only seemed so--under all that fay-like levity there was a heart. Poor +heart! little food or cultivation had it had in all its life. + +For who had been Jacquelina's educators? + +First, there was the commodore, with his alternations of blustering +wrath and foolish fondness, giving way to his anger, or indulging his +love, without the slightest regard to the effect produced upon his young +ward--too often abusing her for something really admirable in her +nature--and full as frequently praising her for something proportionately +reprehensible in her conduct. + +Next, there was the dark, and solemn, and fanatical Dr. Grimshaw, her +destined bridegroom, who really and truly loved the child to fatuity, +and conscientiously did the very best he could for her mental and moral +welfare, according to his light. Alas! "when the light that is in one is +darkness, how great is that darkness!" Jacquelina rewarded his serious +efforts with laughter, and flattered him with the pet names of Hobgoblin, +Ghoul, Gnome, Ogre, etc. Yet she did not dislike her solemn suitor--she +never had taken the matter so seriously as that! And he on his part bore +the eccentricities of the elf with matchless patience, for he loved her, +as I said, to fatuity--doted on her with a passion that increased with +ripening years, and of late consumed him like a fever. + +And then there was her mother, last named because, whatever she should +have been, she really was the least important of Jacquelina's teachers. +Fear was the key-note of Mrs. L'Oiseau's character--the key-stone in the +arch of her religious faith--she feared everything--the opinion of the +world, the unfaithfulness of friends, changes in the weather, reverses +of fortune, pain, sickness, sorrow, want, labor! + +Now the time had not yet come for this proposed marriage to shock the +merry maiden. She was "ower young to marry yet." + +So thought not the commodore; for a year past, since his niece had +attained the age of fourteen, he had been worrying himself and the +elders of the family to have the marriage solemnized, "before the little +devil shall have time to get some other notion into her erratic head," +he said. All were opposed to him, holding over his head the only rod he +dreaded, the opinion of the world. + +"What would people say if you were to marry your niece of fourteen to a +man of thirty-four?" they urged. + +"But I tell you, young men are beginning to pay attention to her now, +and I can't take her to church that some jackanapes don't come capering +around her, and the minx will get some whim in her head like Edith +did--I know she will! Just see how Edith disappointed me! ungrateful +huzzy! after my bringing her up and educating her, for her to do so! +While, if she had married Grim when I wanted her to do it, by this time +I'd have had my grandchil--! I mean nieces and nephews climbing about my +knees. But by ----! I won't be frustrated this time!" + +And so Jacquelina was kept more secluded than ever. Secluded from +society, but not from nature. The forest became her haunt. And a chance +traveler passing through it, and meeting her fay-like form, might well +suppose he was deceived with the vision of a wood-nymph. + +The effervescent spirits of the elf had to expend themselves in the same +way. As a child she had ever been as remarkable for surprising feats of +agility as for fun, frolic, mischief, and _diablerie_. And every one of +these traits augmented with her growth. Feats of agility became a +passion with her--her airy spirit seemed only to find its full freedom +in rapid motion in daring flights, in difficult achievements, and in +hair-breadth escapes. Everything that she read of in that way, which +could possibly be imitated, was attempted. She had her bows and arrows, +and by original fitness, as well as by constant practice, she became an +excellent markswoman. She had her well-trained horse, and her vaulting +bars, and made nothing of flying over a high fence or a wide ditch. But +her last whim was the most eccentric of all. She had her lance. And, her +favorite pastime was to have a small ring suspended from a crossbeam, +and while riding at full speed, with her light lance balanced in her +hand, to catch this ring and bear it off upon the point of that lance. +In feats of agility alone she excelled, not in those of strength--that +airy, fragile form was well fitted for swiftness and sureness of action, +yet not for muscular force. Her uncle and Grim indulged her in all these +frolics--her uncle in great delight; Grim, under the protest that they +were unworthy of an immortal being with eternity to prepare for. + +In these five past years, Cloudesley had been at sea, and had only +returned home once--namely, at the end of the stated three years. He had +been received with unbounded joy by his child-friend; had brought her +his outgrown suit of uniform; had spent several months at Luckenough, +and renewed his old delightful intimacy with its little heiress +presumptive, and at length had gone to sea again for another three +years' voyage. And it must be confessed that Jacquelina had found the +second parting more grievous than the first. And this time Cloudesley +had fully shared her sorrow. He had been absent a year, when, upon one +night the old mansion, that had withstood the storms of more than two +hundred winters, was burned to the ground! + +The fire broke out in the kitchen. How, no one knew exactly. + +Be the cause as it may, upon the evening of the fire Jacquelina had gone +to her room--she had an apartment to herself now--and feeling for the +first time in her life some little uneasiness about her uncle's "whim" +of wedding her to Grim, she had walked about the floor for some time in +much disquietude of mind and body; then she went to a wardrobe, and took +out Cloudy's treasured first uniform, and held it up before her. How +small it looked now; why, it was scarcely too large for herself! And how +much Cloudy had outgrown it! It had fitted him nicely at sixteen, now he +was twenty-one, and in two years more he would be home again! Smiling to +herself, and tossing her charming head, as at some invisible foe, she +said: + +"Yes, indeed. I should so like to see them marry me to that ogre Grim!" + +She pressed the cloth up to her face, and put it away, and, still +smiling to herself, retired to rest, to dream of her dear playmate. + +She dreamed of being in his ship on the open sea, the scene idealized to +supernatural beauty and sublimity, as all such scenes are in dreams; and +then she thought the ship took fire, and she saw, and heard, and felt +the great panic and horror that ensued. + +She woke in a terrible fright. A part of her dream was true! Her +chamber was filled with smoke, and the house was chaotic with noise +and confusion, and resounded with cries of "Fire! Fire!" everywhere. +What happened next passed with the swiftness of lightning. She jumped +out of bed, seized a woolen shawl, and wrapped it around her head, and +even in that imminent danger not forgetting her most cherished +treasure--Cloudy's suit of uniform--snatched it from the wardrobe and +fled out of the room. Her swift and dipping motion that had gained her +the name of "Lapwing" now served her well. Shooting her bright head +forward and downward, she fled through all the passages and down all the +stairs and out by the great hall, that was all in flames, until she +reached the lawn, where the panic-stricken and nearly idiotic household +were assembled, weeping, moaning and wringing their hands, while they +gazed upon the work of destruction before them in impotent despair! + +Jacquelina looked all around the group, each figure of which glared +redly in the light of the flames. All were present--all but the +commodore! Where could the commodore be? + +Jacquelina ran through the crowd looking for him in all directions. He +was nowhere visible, though the whole area was lighted up, even to the +edge of the forest, every tree and branch and twig and leaf of which was +distinctly revealed in the strong, red glare. + +"Where is uncle? Oh! where is uncle?" she exclaimed, running wildly +about, and finally going up to Mrs. Waugh, who stood looking, the statue +of consternation. + +Jacquelina shook her by the arm. + +"Aunty! aunty! Where is uncle? Are you bewitched? Where is uncle?" + +"Where? Here, somewhere. I saw him run out before me." + +"No, you didn't! You mistook somebody else for him. Oh, my Lord! he is +in the burning house! he is in the house!" + +"Oh, he is in the house! he is in the house!" echoed Henrietta, now +roused from her panic, and wringing her hands in the most acute +distress. "Oh! will nobody save him! will nobody save him!" + +It was too late! Commodore Waugh was in the burning mansion, in his +bedchamber, near the top of the house, fast asleep! + +"Good heaven! will no one attempt to save him?" screamed Henrietta, +running wildly from one to the other. + +They all gazed on each other, and then in consternation upon the burning +building, every window of which was belching flame, while the sound of +some falling rafter, or the explosion of some combustible substance, was +continually heard! To venture into that blazing house, with its sinking +roof and falling rafters, seemed certain death. + +"Oh! my God! my God! will none even try to save him?" cried Henrietta, +wringing her hands in extreme anguish. + +Suddenly: + +"Pray for me, aunty!" exclaimed Jacquelina, and she darted like a bird +toward the house, into the passage, and seemed lost in the smoke and +flame! + +Wrapping her woolen shawl closely about her, and keeping near the floor, +she glided swiftly up the stairs, flight after flight, and through the +suffocating passages, until she reached her uncle's door. It was open, +and his room was clearer of smoke than any other, from the wind blowing +through the open window. + +There he lay in a deep sleep! She sprang to the bedside, seized and +shook the arm of the sleeper. + +"Uncle! uncle! wake, for God's sake, wake! the house is on fire!" + +"Hum-m-m-e!" muttered the old man, giving a great heave and plunge, and +turning over into a heavier sleep than before. + +"Uncle! uncle! You will be burned to death if you don't wake up!" cried +Jacquelina, shaking him violently. + +"Humph! Yes, Jacquelina! um--um--um--Grim! um--um--Luckenough!" +muttered the dreamer, flinging about his great arms. + +"Luckenough is in flames! Uncle! wake! wake!" she cried, shaking him +frantically. + +"Ah! ha! yes! d--d little rascal is at her tricks again!" he said, +laughing in his sleep. + +At that moment there was the sound of a falling rafter in the adjoining +room. Every instant was worth a life, and there he lay in a sodden, +hopeless sleep. + +Suddenly Sans Souci ran to the ewer; it was empty. There was no time to +be lost! every second was invaluable! He must be instantly roused, and +Jacquelina was not fastidious as to the means in doing so! + +Leaping upon the bolster behind his great, stupid head, she reached +over, and, seizing the mass of his gray, grizzly beard, she pulled up +the wrong way with all her might, until, roaring with pain, he started +up in a fury, and, seeing her, exclaimed: + +"Oh! you abominable little vixen! is that you: Do you dare! Are you +frantic, then? Oh, you outrageous little dare-devil! Won't I send you to +a mad-house, and have you put in a strait-jacket, till you know how to +behave yourself! You infernal little wretch, you!" + +A sudden thought struck Sans Souci to move him by his affection for +herself. + +"Uncle, look around you! The house is burning! if you do not rouse +yourself and save your poor little 'wretch,' she must perish in the +flames!" + +This effectually brought him to his senses; he understood everything! he +leaped from his bed, seized a blanket, enveloped her in it, raised her +in his arms, and, forgetting gout, lameness, leg and all, bore her down +the creaking, heated stairs, flight after flight, and through the +burning passages out of the house in safety. + +A shout of joy greeted the commodore as he appeared with Jacquelina in +the yard. + +But heeding nothing but the burden he bore in his arms, the old sailor +strode on until he reached a convenient spot, where he threw the blanket +off her face to give her air. + +She had fainted--the terror and excitement had been too great--the +reaction was too powerful--it had overwhelmed her, and she lay insensible +across his arms, her fair head hanging back, her white garments streaming +in the air, her golden locks floating, her witching eyes closed, and her +blue lips apart and rigid on her glistening teeth--so she lay like dead +Cordelia in the arms of old Lear. + +Henrietta and Mrs. L'Oiseau, followed by all the household, crowded +around them with water, the only restorative at hand. + +At length she recovered and looked up, a little bewildered, but soon +memory and understanding returned and, gazing at her uncle, she suddenly +threw her arms around his neck and burst into tears. + +She was then carried away into one of the best negro quarters and laid +upon a bed, and attended by her mother and her maid Maria. + +The commodore, with his wife, found shelter in another quarter. And the +few remaining members of the household were accommodated in a similar +manner elsewhere. + +It was near noon before they were all ready to set forth from the scene +of disaster, and it was the middle of the afternoon when they found +themselves temporarily settled at the little hotel at Benedict in the +very apartments formerly occupied by Edith and Marian. + +Here Jacquelina suffered a long and severe spell of illness, during +which her bright hair was cut off. + +And here beautiful Marian came, with her gift of tender nursing, and +devoted herself day and night to the service of the young invalid. And +all the leisure time she found while sitting by the sick bed she busily +employed in making up clothing for the almost denuded family. And never +had the dear girl's nimble fingers flown so fast or so willingly. + +Every day the commodore, accompanied by Dr. Grimshaw, rode over to +Luckenough to superintend the labors of the workmen in pulling down and +clearing away the ruins of the old mansion and preparing the site for a +new building. + +Six weeks passed and brought the first of August, before Jacquelina was +able to sit up, and then the physicians recommended change of air and +the waters of Bentley Springs for the re-establishment of her health. + +During her illness, Jacquelina had become passionately attached to +Marian, as all persons did who came under the daily influence of the +beautiful girl. Dr. Grimshaw was to accompany the family to Bentley. +Jacquelina insisted that Marian should be asked to make one of the +party. Accordingly, the commodore and Mrs. Waugh, nothing loth, invited +and pressed the kind maiden to go with them. But Marian declined the +journey, and Commodore Waugh, with his wife, his niece and his Grim set +out in the family carriage for Bentley Springs. Jacquelina rapidly +regained health and rushed again to her mad breaks. After a stormy scene +with the commodore, the latter vowed she should either marry Dr. +Grimshaw or be sent to a nunnery. To the convent of St. Serena she went, +but within a week she was home in disgrace. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +CLIPPING A BIRD'S WINGS. + + +The clouds were fast gathering over poor San Souci's heavens. + +The commodore had quite recovered for the time being, and he began to +urge the marriage of his niece with his favorite. Dr. Grimshaw's +importunities were also becoming very tiresome. They were no longer a +jest. She could no longer divert herself with them. She felt them as a +real persecution, and expressed herself accordingly. To Grim she said: + +"Once I used to laugh at you. But now I do hate you more than anything +in the universe! And I wish--I do wish that you were in heaven! for I do +detest the very sight of you--there!" + +And to the commodore's furious threats she would answer: + +"Uncle, the time has passed by centuries ago for forcing girls into +wedlock, thanks be to Christianity and civilization. You can't force me +to have Grim, and you had as well give up the wicked purpose," or words +to that effect. + +One day when she had said something of the sort, the commodore answered, +cruelly: + +"Very well, miss! I force no one, please to understand! But I afford my +protection and support only upon certain conditions, and withdraw them +when those conditions are not fulfilled! Neither you nor your mother had +any legal claim upon me. I was not in any way bound to feed and clothe +and house you for so many years. I did it with the tacit understanding +that you were to marry to please me, and all your life you have +understood, as well as any of us, that you were to wed Dr. Grimshaw." + +"If such an understanding existed, it was without my consent, and was +originated in my infancy, and I do not feel and I will not be in the +least degree bound by it! For the expense of my support and education, +uncle! I am truly sorry that you risked it upon the hazardous chance of +my liking or disliking the man of your choice! But as I had no hand in +your venture, I do not feel the least responsible for your losses. Yours +is the fate of a gambler in human hearts who has staked and lost--that +is the worst!" + +"And by all the fiends in fire, Minion! you shall find that it is +not the worst. I know how to make you knuckle under, and I shall do +it!" exclaimed the commodore in a rage, as he rose up and strode off +toward the room occupied by Mary L'Oiseau. Without the ceremony of +knocking, he burst the door open with one blow of his foot, and entered +where the poor, feverish, frightened creature was lying down to take a +nap. Throwing himself into a chair by her bedside, he commenced a +furious attack upon the trembling invalid. He recounted, with much +exaggeration, the scene that had just transpired between himself and +Jacquelina--repeated with additions her undutiful words, bitterly +reproached Mary for encouraging and fostering that rebellious and +refractory temper in her daughter, warned her to bring the headstrong +girl to a sense of her position and duty, or to prepare to leave his +roof; for he swore he "wouldn't be hectored over and trodden down by her +nor her daughter any longer!" And so having overwhelmed the timid, +nervous woman with undeserved reproaches and threats, he arose and left +the room. + +And can any one be surprised that her illness was increased, and her +fever arose and her senses wandered all night? When her mother was ill, +Jacquelina could not sleep. Now she sat by her bedside sponging her hot +hands and keeping ice to her head and giving drink to slake her burning +thirst and listening, alas! to her sad and rambling talk about their +being turned adrift in the world to starve to death, or to perish in the +snow--calling on her daughter to save them both by yielding to her +uncle's will! And Jacquelina heard and understood, and wept and +sighed--a new experience to the poor girl, who was + +"Not used to tears at night +Instead of slumber!" + +All through the night she nursed her with unremitting care. And in the +morning, when the fever waned, and the patient was wakeful, though +exhausted, she left her only to bring the refreshing cup of tea and +plate of toast prepared by her own hands. + +But when she brought it to the bedside the pale invalid waved it away. +She felt as if she could not eat. Fear had clutched her throat and would +not relax its hold. + +"I want to talk to you, Jacquelina," she said. + +"Eat and drink first, Mimmy, and then you and I will have such another +good talk!" said Jacquelina, coaxingly. + +"I can't! Oh! I can't swallow a mouthful, I am choking now!" + +"Oh! that is nothing but the hysterics, Mimmy! 'high strikes,' as Jenny +calls them! I feel like I should have them myself sometimes! Come! cheer +up, Mimmy! Your fever is off and your head is cool! Come, take this +consoling cup of tea and bit of toast, and you will feel so much +stronger and cheerfuler." + +"Tea! Oh! everything I eat and drink in this unhappy house is +bitter--the bitter cup and bitter bread of dependence!" + +"Put more sugar into it, then, Mimmy, and sweeten it! Come! Things are +not yet desperate! Cheer up!" + +"What do you mean, my love? Have you consented to be married to Dr. +Grimshaw?" + +"No! St. Mary! Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Jacquelina, shuddering for the +first time. + +"Now, why 'heaven forbid?' Oh! my child, why are you so perverse? Why +won't you take him, since your uncle has set his heart upon the match?" + +"Oh, mother!" + +"I know you are very young to be married--too young! far too young! Only +sixteen, gracious heaven! But then you know we have no alternative but +that, or starvation; and it is not as if you were to be married to a +youth of your own age--this gentleman is of grave years and character, +which makes a great difference." + +"I should think it did." + +"What makes you shiver and shake so, my dear? Are you cold or nervous? +Poor child, you got no sleep last night. Do you drink that cup of tea, +my dear. You need it more than I do." + +"No, no." + +"Why, what is the matter with my fairy?" + +"Oh, mother, mother, don't take sides against me! don't! or you will +drive me to my ruin. Who will take a child's part, if her mother don't? +I love you best of all the world, mother. Do not takes sides against me! +take my part! help me to be true! to be true!" + +"True to whom, Jacquelina? What are you talking about?" + +"True to this heart--to this heart, mother! to all that is honest and +good in my nature." + +"I don't understand you at all." + +"Oh, mother, the thought of marrying anybody is unwelcome to me now; and +the idea of being married to Grim is abhorrent; is like that of being +sold to a master that I hate, or sent to prison for life; it is full of +terror and despair. Oh! oh!--" + +"Don't talk so wildly, Jacquelina, you make me ill." + +"Do I, Mimmy? Oh, I didn't mean to worry you. Bear up, Mimmy; do try to +bear up; don't fear; suppose he does turn me out. I am but a little +girl, and food and clothing are cheap enough in the country, and any of +our neighbors will take me in just for the fun I'll make them. La! yes, +that they will, just as gladly as they will let in the sunshine." + +"Oh, child, how little you know of the world. Yes, for a day or two, or +a week or two, scarcely longer. And even if you could find a home, who +would give shelter to your poor, sick mother for the rest of her life?" + +"Mother! uncle would never deny you shelter upon my account!" exclaimed +Jacquelina, growing very pale. + +"Indeed he will, my child; he has; he came in here last night and warned +me to pack up and leave the house." + +"He will not dare--even he, so to outrage humanity and public opinion +and everything he ought to respect." + +"My child, he will. He has set his heart upon making Nace Grimshaw his +successor at Luckenough, that if you disappoint him in this darling +purpose, there will be no limit to his rage and his revenge. And he will +not only send us from his roof, but he will seek to justify himself and +further ruin us by blackening our names. Your wildness and eccentricity +will be turned against us and so distorted and misrepresented as to ruin +us forever." + +"Mother! mother! he is not so wicked as that." + +"He is furious in his temper and violent in his impulses--he will do all +that under the influence of disappointment and passion, however he may +afterwards repent his injustice. You must not disappoint him, +Jacquelina." + +"I disappoint him? Why, Mimmy, Luckenough does not belong to me. And if +he wants Grim to be his successor, why, as I have heard aunty ask him, +does he not make him his heir?" + +"There are reasons, I suspect, my dear, why he cannot do so. I think he +holds the property by such a tenure, that he cannot alienate it from the +family. And the only manner in which he can bestow it upon Dr. Grimshaw, +will be through his wife, if the doctor should marry some relative." + +"That is it, hey? Well! I will not be made a sumpter-mule to carry this +rich gift over to Dr. Grimshaw--even if there is no other way of +conveyance. Mother! what is the reason the professor is such a favorite +with uncle?" + +"My dear, I don't know, but I have often had my suspicions." + +"Of what, Mimmy?" + +"Of a very near, though unacknowledged relationship; don't question me +any further upon that particular point, my dear, for I really know +nothing whatever about it. Oh, dear." And the invalid groaned and turned +over. + +"Mother, you are very weak; mother, please to take some tea; let me go +get you some hot." + +"Tell me, Jacquelina; will you do as the old man wishes you?" + +"I will tell you after you take some refreshments," said Jacquelina. + +"Well! go bring me some." + +The girl went and brought more hot tea and toast, and waited until her +mother had drunk the former and partaken of a morsel of the latter. +When, in answer to the eager, inquiring look, she said: + +"Mother, if I alone were concerned, I would leave this house this +moment, though I should never have another roof over my head. But for +your sake, mother, I will still fight the battle. I will try to turn +uncle from his purpose. I will try to awaken Grim's generosity, if he +has any, and get him to withdraw his suit. I will get aunty to use her +influence with both of them, and see what can be done. But as for +marrying Dr. Grimshaw, mother--I know what I am saying--I would rather +die!" + +"And see me die, my child?" + +"Oh, mother! it will not be so bad as that." + +"Jacquelina, it will. Do you know what is the meaning of these afternoon +fevers and night sweats and this cough?" + +"I know it means that you are very much out of health, Mimmy, but I hope +you will be well in the spring." + +"Jacquelina, it means death." + +"Oh, no! No, no! No, no! Not so! There's Miss Nancy Skamp has had a +cough every winter ever since I knew her, and she's not dead nor likely +to die, and you will be well in the spring," said the girl, changing +color; and faltering in spite of herself. + +"I shall never see another spring, my child--" + +"Oh, mother! don't! don't say so. You--" + +"Hear me out, my dear; I shall never live to see another spring unless I +can have a quiet life with peace of mind. These symptoms, my child, mean +death, sooner or later. My life may be protracted for many years, if I +can live in peace and comfort; but if I must suffer privation, want and +anxiety, I cannot survive many months, Jacquelina." + +The poor girl was deadly pale; she started up and walked the floor in a +distracted manner, crying: + +"What shall I do! Oh! what shall I do?" + +"It is very plain what you shall do, my child. You must marry Dr. +Grimshaw. Come, my dear, be reasonable. If I did not think it best for +your happiness and prosperity, I would not urge it." + +"Mimmy, don't talk any longer, dear!" Jacquelina interrupted. "There's a +bright spot on your cheek now, and your fever will rise again, even this +morning. I will see what can be done to bring everybody to reason! I +will not believe but that if I remain firm and faithful to my heart's +integrity there will be some way of escape made between these two +alternatives." + +But could Sans Souci do this? Had the frolicsome fairy sufficient +integral strength and self-balance to resist the powerful influences +gathering around her? + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +A GRIM MARRIAGE. + + +As the decisive day approached, Jacquelina certainly acted like one +distraught--now in wild defiance, now in paleness and tears, and anon in +fitful mirth, or taunting threats. She rapidly lost flesh and color, and +in hysterical laughter accounted for it by saying that she believed in +her soul Grim was a spiritual vampire, who preyed upon her life! She +avoided him as much as she could. And if sometimes, when she was about +to escape from him, he would seize her wrist and detain her, she would +suddenly lose her breath and turn so pale that in the fear of her +fainting, he would release her. So he got no opportunity to press his +claims. + +One morning, however--it was about a week before Christmas--she +voluntarily sought his presence. She entered the parlor where he sat +alone. Excitement had flushed her cheeks with a vivid crimson and +lighted her eyes with sparkling fire--she did not know that her beauty +was enhanced a thousand fold--she did not know that never in her life +had her presence kindled such a flame in the heart of her lover as it +did at that moment. And if he restrained himself from going to meet her, +it was the dread lest she should fade away from him as he had seen her +do so often. But she advanced and stood before him. + +"Dr. Grimshaw!" she said, "I have come to make a last appeal to you! I +have come to beg, to supplicate you, for my sake, for honor, for truth +and for mercy's sake, yes! for heaven's sake, to withdraw your +pretensions to my poor hand. For, sir, I do not and cannot like you! I +do not say but that you are far too good and wise, and every way too +worthy for such a girl as I am--and that you do me the very greatest +honor by your preference, but still no one can account for tastes--and, +sir, I cannot like you--pray, pardon me! indeed, I cannot help it." + +Although her words were so humble, her color was still heightened, and +her eyes had a threatening, defiant sparkle in them, so contradictory, +so piquant and fascinating in contrast with the little, fragile, +graceful, helpless form, that his head was almost turned. It was with +difficulty he could keep from snatching the fluttering, half-defiant, +half-frightened, bird-like creature to his bosom. But he contented +himself with saying: + +"My fairy! we are commanded to love those that hate us; and should you +hate me more than ever, I should only continue to love you!" + +"Love me at a distance, then! and the greater the distance, the more +grateful I shall be!" + +He could no longer quite restrain himself. He seized her hand and drew +her towards him, exclaiming in an eager, breathless, half-whisper: + +"No! closer and closer shall my love draw us, beautiful one! until it +compasses your hate and unites us forever!" + +With a half-suppressed cry she wrung her hand from his grasp and +answered, wildly: + +"I sought your presence to entreat you--and to warn you! I have +supplicated you, and you have turned a deaf ear to my prayer! Now I warn +you! and disregard my warning, if you dare! despise it at your peril! I +am going out of my wits, I think! I warn you that I may consent to +become your wife! I have no persevering resistance in my nature. I +cannot hold out forever against those I love. But I warn you, that if +ever I consent, it will be under the undue influence of others!" + +"Put your consent upon any ground you please, you delightful, you +enchanting little creature. We will spare your blushes, charming as they +are!" he exclaimed, surprised out of self-control and seizing both her +hands. + +Angrily she snatched them from him. + +"What have I said? Oh! what have I said? I believe I am going crazy! I +tell you, Dr. Grimshaw, that if I ever yield, it will be only to the +overwhelming force brought to bear upon me; and even then it will be +only during a temporary fit of insanity! And I warn you--I warn you not +to dare to take me at my word!" + +"Will I not? You bewitching little sprite! do you do this to make me +love you ten thousand times more than I do?" + +Passionately she broke forth in reply: + +"You do not believe me! You do not see that I am in terrible earnest! I +tell you, Dr. Grimshaw, that were I induced to consent to be your wife, +you had better not take advantage of such a consent! It would be the +most fatal day's work you ever did for yourself in this world! You think +I'm only a spoiled, petulant child! You do not know me! I do not know +myself! I am full of evil! I feel it sensibly, when I am near you! You +develop the worst of me! Should you marry me, the very demon would rise +in my bosom! I should drive you to distraction!" + +"You drive me to distraction now, you intoxicating little witch!" he +exclaimed, laughing and darting towards her. + +She started and escaped his hand, crying: + +"Saints in heaven! What infatuation! What madness! It must be fate! +Avert the fate, man! Avert it! while there is yet time! Go get a +mill-stone and tie it around your neck and cast yourself into the +uttermost depths of the sea before ever you dare to marry me!" Her +cheeks were blazing with color and her eyes with light! He saw only her +transcendant beauty. + +"Why, you little tragi-comic enchantress, you!--what do you mean? Come +to my arms! Come, wild, bright bird! come to my bosom!" he said, +stepping towards her and throwing his arms around her. + +"Vampire!" she exclaimed, struggling to free herself for a moment; and +then as his lips sought hers the color faded from her face and the light +died in her eyes, and he hastily released her and set her in a chair +lest she should swoon in his hated arms. + +"Now, how am I expected to live with such a wife as this girl would make +me? If it were not for the estate I should be tempted to give her up, +and travel to forget her! How shall I overcome her repugnance? Not by +courting her; that's demonstrated. Only by being kind to her, and +letting her alone." Such was the tenor of his thoughts as he stood a +little behind her chair out of her sight. + +But Jacquelina, when she found herself free, soon recovered, and arose +and left the room. + +Until a day or two before Christmas, when, in the evening, she glided in +to her uncle's room and sunk down by his side--so unlike herself; so +like a spirit--that the old sinner impulsively shrank away from her, and +put out his hand to ring for lights. + +"No; don't send for candles, uncle! Such a wretch as I am should tell +her errand in the dark." + +"What do you mean now, minx?" + +"Uncle, in all your voyages around the world did you ever stop at +Constantinople? And did you ever visit a slave mart there?" + +"Yes; of course I have! What then? What the deuce are you dreaming of?" + +"How much would such a girl as myself bring in the slave market of the +Sultan's city?" + +"Are you crazy?" asked the commodore, opening his eyes to their widest +extent. + +"I don't know. If I am, it can make little difference in your plans. But +as there is method in my madness, please to answer my question. How much +would I sell for in Constantinople?" + +"You are mad; that's certain! How do I know--where beauties sell for +from five hundred to many thousand zechins. But you wouldn't sell for +much; you're too small and too thin." + +"Beauty sells by the weight, does it? Well, uncle, I see that you +have been accustomed to the mart, for you know how to cheapen the +merchandise! Save yourself the trouble, uncle! I shall not live long, +and therefore I shall not have the conscience to ask a high price for +myself!" + +"Mad! Mad as a March hare! As sure as shooting she is!" said the +commodore in dismay, staring at her until his great, fat eyes seemed +bursting from their sockets. + +"Not so mad as you think, uncle, either. I have come to make a bargain +with you." + +"What the foul fiend do you mean now? Do you want me to send you to +Constantinople, pray?" + +Jacquelina laughed, something like her old silvery laugh, as she +answered: + +"No, uncle; though if it were not for Mimmy, I really should prefer it +to marrying Grim!" + +"What do you mean, then? Speak!" + +"This, then, uncle: By what I have heard, and what I have seen, and what +I have surmised, I am already as deep in your secrets respecting Grim as +you are yourself." + +"You speak falsely, you little ----! No one knows anything about it but +myself!" exclaimed the commodore, betraying himself through astonishment +and indignation. + +Without heeding the contradiction, except by a sly smile, Jacquelina +went calmly on: + +"And I know that you wish to make me a stalking-horse, to convey the +estate to Grimshaw, only because you cannot give it to him in any other +way but through his wife." + +"What do you mean, you little diabolical ----! It is my own--why can I +not give it to whom I please, I should like to know?" + +"You can give it to any one in the world, uncle, except Dr. Grimshaw, or +to one who bears the same relationship to you that he does; for to such +a one you may not legally bequeath your landed estate, or--" + +"You shocking, impudent little vixen! How dare you talk so?" + +"Hear me out, uncle. I say, knowing such to be the case, I also know my +own importance as a 'stalking-horse,' or sumpter-mule, or something of +the sort, to bear upon my own shoulders the burden of this estate, which +you wish to give by me to Dr. Grimshaw. Therefore, I shall not give +myself away for nothing. I intend to sell myself for a price! Nothing on +earth would induce me to consent to marry Dr. Grimshaw, were it not to +secure peace and comfort to my mother's latter days. Your threat of +turning me out of doors would not compel me into such a marriage, for +well I know that you would not venture to put that threat into +execution. But I cannot bear to see my poor mother suffer so much as she +does while here, dependent upon your uncertain protection. You terrify +and distress her beyond her powers of endurance. You make the bread of +dependence very, very bitter to her, indeed! And well I know that she +will certainly die if she remains subjected to your powers of +tormenting. I speak plainly to you, uncle, having nothing to conceal; +to proceed, I assure you I will not meet your views in marrying Dr. +Grimshaw, unless it be to purchase for my poor mother a deliverance from +bondage, and an independence for life. Therefore, I demand that you +shall buy this place, 'Locust Hill,' which I hear can be bought for five +thousand dollars, and settle it upon my mother; in return for which I +will bestow my hand in marriage upon Dr. Grimshaw. And, mind, I do not +promise with it either love, or esteem, or service--only my hand in +civil marriage, and the estate it has the power of carrying with it! And +the documents that shall make my mother independent of the world must be +drawn up or examined by a lawyer that she shall appoint, and must be +placed in her hands on the same hour that gives my hand to Dr. Grimshaw. +Do you understand? Now, uncle, that is my ultimatum! For, please the +heavens above us! come what may! do what you will! turn me and my mother +out of doors, to freeze and starve--I will die, and see her die, before +I will sell my hand for a less price than will make her independent and +at ease for life! For, look you, I would rather see her dead, than leave +her in your power! Think of this, uncle! There is time enough to-morrow +and next day to make all the arrangements; only be sure I am in earnest! +Look in my face! Am I not in earnest?" + +"I think you are, you little wretch! I could shake the life out of you!" + +"That would be easy, uncle! There is not much to shake out. Only, in +that case, you would have no stalking-horse to take the estate over to +Dr. Grimshaw." And so saying, Jacquelina arose to leave the room. + +"Come back here--you little vixen, you!" + +Sans Souci returned. + +"It's well to 'strike while the iron's hot,' and to bind you while +you're willing to be bound, for you are an uncertain little villain. +Though I don't believe you'd break a solemn pledge once given--hey?" + +"No, sir!" + +"Pledge me your word of honor, now, that if I buy this little farm of +Locust Hill, and settle it upon your mother, you will marry Dr. Grimshaw +on this coming Christmas Eve?" + +"I pledge you my word of honor that I will" + +"Without mental reservation?" + +"Without mental reservation!" + +"Stop! it is safer to seal such a pledge! Climb up on the stand, and +hand me that Bible down off the top shelf. Brush the cobwebs off it, and +don't let the spiders come with it." + +Jacquelina did as she was bid, with a half indifferent, half disdainful +air. + +"There! Now lay your hand upon this book, and swear by the Holy +Evangelists of Almighty God that you will do as you have pledged +yourself to do." + +"I swear," said Jacquelina. + +"Very well! Now, confound you! you may put the book back again, and go +about your business." + +Sans Souci very willingly complied. And then, as she left the room and +closed the door after her, her quick ear caught the sound of the +commodore's voice, chuckling: + +"So! I've trapped you! Ten minutes more, and it would have been +impossible." + +Full of wonder as to what his words might mean, doubting also whether +she had heard them aright, Jacquelina was hastening on toward her +mother's room, when she met her Aunt Henrietta hurrying toward her, and +speaking impetuously. + +"Oh, my little Lapwing! where have you been? I have been looking for you +all over the house! Good news, dear Lapwing! Good news! Deliverance is +at hand for you! Who do you think has come?" + +"Who? Who?" questioned Sans Souci, eagerly. + +"Cloudy!" + +"Lost! lost!" cried the wretched girl; and, with a wild shriek that rang +through all the house, she threw up her arms and fell forward to the +ground. + +The marriage was appointed to take place Christmas Day. Jacquelina +suffered her mother to dress her in bridal array. Dr. Grimshaw was +waiting for her in the hall. + +As soon as she reached the foot of the stairs, he took her hand; and, +pressing it, whispered: + +"Sweet girl, forgive me this persistence!" + +"May God never forgive me if I do!" she fiercely exclaimed, transfixing +him with a flashing glance. + +Never lover uttered a deeper sigh than that which Dr. Grimshaw gave +forth as he led his unwilling bride to the carriage. The groomsman +followed with the bridesmaid. The commodore and Mary L'Oiseau +accompanied the party in a gig. Henrietta, true to her word, refused to +be present at the marriage. + +When the wedding party arrived at the chapel, all the pews were filled +to suffocation with the crowd that the rumor of the approaching marriage +had drawn together. And the bridal party were the cynosure of many +hundred eyes as they passed up the aisle and stood before the altar. + +The ceremony proceeded. But not one response, either verbally or +mentally, did Jacquelina make. The priest passed over her silence, +naturally ascribing it to bashfulness, and honestly taking her consent +for granted. + +The rites were finished, the benediction bestowed, and friends and +acquaintances left their pews, and crowded around with congratulations. + +Among the foremost was Thurston Willcoxen, whose suave and stately +courtesy, and graceful bearing, and gracious words, so pleased Commodore +Waugh that, knowing Jacquelina to be married and safe, he invited and +urged the accomplished young "Parisian," as he was often called, to +return and partake of the Christmas wedding breakfast. + +"Nace, do you take your bride home in the gig, as you will want her +company to yourself, and we will go in the carriage," said the +commodore, good-naturedly. In fact, the old man had not been in such +a fine humor for many a day. + +Dr. Grimshaw, "nothing loth," led his fair bride to the gig, handed her +in, and took the place beside her. + +"Now, then, fairest and dearest, you are at last, indeed, my own!" he +said, seeking her eyes. + +"Thank Heaven, I am not! I never foreswore myself. I never opened my +lips, or formed a vow in my head. I never promised you anything," said +Jacquelina, turning away; and the rest of the journey was made in +silence. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +DELL-DELIGHT + + +It should have been an enchanting home to which Thurston Willcoxen +returned after his long sojourn in Europe. The place, Dell-Delight, +might once have deserved its euphonious and charming name; now, however, +its delightfulness was as purely traditional as the royal lineage +claimed by its owners. + +Mr. Willcoxen was one of those whose god is Mammon. He had inherited +money, married a half-sister of Commodore Waugh for money, and made +money. Year by year, from youth to age, adding thousands to thousands, +acres to acres; until now, at the age of ninety-five, he was the master +of incalculable riches. + +He had outlived his wife and their three children; and his nearest of +kin were Thurston Willcoxen, the son of his eldest son; Cloudesley +Mornington, the son of his eldest daughter, and poor Fanny Laurie, the +child of his youngest daughter. + +Thurston and Fanny had each inherited a small property independent of +their grandfather. + +But poor Cloudy had been left an orphan in the worst sense of the +word--destitute and dependent on the "cold charity of the world," +or the colder and bitterer alms of unloving rich relatives. + +The oldest and nearest kinsman and natural guardian of the boys--old Mr. +Willcoxen--had, of course, received them into his house to be reared and +educated; but no education would he afford the lads beyond that +dispensed by the village schoolmaster, who could very well teach them +that ten dimes make a dollar, and ten dollars an eagle; and who could +also instruct them how to write their own names--for instance, at the +foot of receipts of so many hundred dollars for so many hogsheads of +tobacco; or to read other men's signatures, to wit, upon the backs of +notes of hand, payable at such a time, or on such a day. This was just +knowledge enough, he said, to teach the boys how to make and save money, +yet not enough to tempt them to spend it foolishly in travel, libraries, +pictures, statues, arbors, fountains, and such costly trumpery and +expensive tomfoolery. + +To Thurston, who was his favorite, probably because he bore the family +name and inherited some independent property, Mr. Willcoxen would, +however, have afforded a more liberal and gentlemanly education, could +he have done so and at the same time decently withheld from going to +some expense in giving his penniless grandson, Cloudy, the same +privilege. As it was, he sought to veil his parsimony by conservative +principle. + +It was a great humiliation to the boys to see that, while all the youths +of their own rank and neighborhood were entered pensioners at the local +college, they two alone were taken from the little day-school to be put +to agricultural labor--a thing unprecedented in that locality at that +time. + +When this matter was brought to the knowledge of Commodore Waugh, as he +strode up and down his hall, the indignant old sailor thumped his heavy +stick upon the ground, thrust forward his great head, and swore +furiously by the whole Pandemonial Hierarchy that his grandnephews +should not be brought up like clodhoppers. + +And straightway he ordered his carriage, threw himself into it, and rode +over to Charlotte Hall, where he entered the name of his two young +relatives as pensioners at his own proper cost. + +This done, he ordered his coachman to take the road to Dell-Delight, +where he had an interview with Mr. Willcoxen. + +And as he met little opposition from the old man, who seemed to think +that it was no more than fair that the boys' uncle should share the +expense of educating them, he sought out the youths, whom he found in +the field, and bade them leave the plough, and go and prepare themselves +to go to C---- and get educated, as befitted the grandnephews of a +gentleman! + +The lads were at that time far too simple-minded and too clannish to +feel their pride piqued at this offer, or to take offense at the rude +manner in which it was made. Commodore Waugh was their grand-uncle, and +therefore had a right to educate them, and to be short with them, too, +if he pleased. That was the way in which they both looked at the matter. +And very much delighted and very grateful they were for the opening for +education thus made for them. + +And very zealously they entered upon their academical studies. They +boarded at the college and roomed together. But their vacations were +spent apart, Thurston spending his at Dell-Delight, and Cloudy his at +Luckenough. + +When the academical course was completed, Commodore Waugh, as has been +seen, was at some pains to give Cloudy a fair start in life, and for the +first time condescended to use his influence with "the Department" to +procure a favor in the shape of a midshipman's warrant for Cloudesley +Mornington. + +In the meantime old Mr. Willcoxen was very gradually sinking into the +imbecility natural to his advanced age; and his fascinating grandson was +gaining some ascendancy over his mind. Year by year this influence +increased, though it must be admitted that Thurston's conquest over his +grandfather's whims was as slow as that of the Hollanders in winning the +land from the sea. + +However, the old man--now that Cloudy was provided for and off his +hands--lent a more willing ear to the petition of Thurston to be +permitted to continue his education by a course of studies at a German +university, and afterward by a tour of the Eastern continent. + +Thurston's absence was prolonged much beyond the original intention, as +has been related; he spent two years at the university, two in travel, +and nearly two in the city of Paris. + +His grandfather would certainly never have consented to this prolonged +absence, had it been at his own cost; but the expenses were met by +advances upon Thurston's own small patrimony. + +And, in fact, when at last the young gentleman returned to his native +country, it was because his property was nearly exhausted, and his +remittances were small, few and far between, grudgingly sent, and about +to be stopped. Therefore nearly penniless, but perfectly free from the +smallest debt or degradation--elegant, accomplished, fastidious, yet +truthful, generous, gallant and aspiring--Thurston left the elegant +salons and exciting scenes of Paris for the comparative dullness and +dreariness of his native place and his grandfather's house. + +He had reached his legal majority just before leaving Paris, and soon +after his arrival at home he was appointed trustee of poor Fanny +Laurie's property. + +His first act was to visit Fanny in the distant asylum in which she was +confined, and ascertain her real condition. And having heard her +pronounced incurable, though perfectly harmless, he determined to +release her from the confinement of the asylum, and to bring her home +to her native county, where, among the woods and hills and streams, she +might find at once that freedom, space and solitude so desired by the +heart-sick or brain-sick, and where also his own care might avail her. + +Old Mr. Willcoxen, far from offering opposition to this plan, actually +favored it--though from the less worthy motive of economy. What was the +use of spending money to pay her board, and nursing, and medical +attendance, in the asylum, when she might be boarded and nursed and +doctored so much cheaper at home? For the old man confidently looked +forward to the time when the poor, fragile, failing creature would sink +into the grave, and Thurston would become her heir. And he calculated +that every dollar they could save of her income would be so much added +to the inheritance when Thurston should come into it. + +Very soon after Thurston's return home his grandfather gave him to +understand the conditions upon which he intended to make him his heir. +They were two in number, viz., first, that Thurston should never leave +him again while he lived; and, secondly, that he should never marry +without his consent. "For I don't wish to be left alone in my old age, +my dear boy; nor do I wish to see you throw yourself away upon any girl +whose fortune is less than the estate I intend to bequeath entire to +yourself." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +MARIAN, THE INSPIRER. + + +It was not fortunate for old Mr. Willcoxen's plans that his grandson +should have met Marian Mayfield. For, on the morning of Thurston's first +meeting with the charming girl, when he turned his horse's head from the +arched gateway of Old Field Cottage and galloped off, "a haunting shape +and image gay" attended him. + +It was that of beautiful Marian, with her blooming face and sunny hair, +and rounded roseate neck and bosom and arms, all softly, delicately +flushed with the pure glow of rich, luxuriant vitality, as she stood in +the sunlight, under the arch of azure morning-glories, with her graceful +arms raised in the act of binding up the vines. + +At first this "image fair" was almost unthought of; he was scarcely +conscious of the haunting presence, or the life and light it gradually +diffused through his whole being. And when the revelation dawned upon +his intellect, he smiled to himself and wondered if, for the first time, +he was falling in love; and then he grew grave, and tried to banish the +dangerous thought. But when, day after day, amid all the business and +the pleasures of his life, the "shape" still pursued him, instead of +getting angry with it or growing weary of it, he opened his heart and +took it in, and made it at home, and set it upon a throne, where it +reigned supreme, diffusing delight over all his nature. But soon, too +soon, this bosom's sovereign became the despot, and stung, goaded and +urged him to see again this living, breathing, glowing, most beautiful +original. To seek her? For what? He did not even try to answer the +question. + +Thus passed one week. + +And then, had he been disposed to forget the beautiful girl, he could +not have done so. For everywhere where the business of his grandfather +took him--around among the neighboring planters, to the villages of +B---- or of C----, everywhere he heard of Marian, and frequently he +saw her, though at a distance, or under circumstances that made it +impossible for him, without rudeness, to address her. He both saw and +heard of her in scenes and society where he could hardly have expected +to find a young girl of her insignificant position. + +Marian was a regular attendant of the Protestant church at Benedict, +where, before the morning service, she taught in the Sunday-school, and +before the afternoon service she received a class of colored children. + +And Thurston, who had been a very careless and desultory attendant, +sometimes upon the Catholic chapel, sometimes upon the Protestant +church, now became a very regular frequenter of the latter place of +worship; the object of his worship being not the Creator, but the +creature, whom, if he missed from her accustomed seat, the singing, and +praying, and preaching for him lost all of its meaning, power and +spirituality. In the churchyard he sometimes tried to catch her eye and +bow to her; but he was always completely baffled in his aspirations +after a nearer communion. She was always attended from the church and +assisted into her saddle by Judge Provost, Colonel Thornton, or some +other "potent, grave and reverend seignors," who "hedged her about with +a divinity" that it was impossible, without rudeness and intrusion, to +break through. The more he was baffled and perplexed, the more eager +became his desire to cultivate her acquaintance. Had his course been +clear to woo her for his wife, it would have been easy to ask permission +of Edith to visit her at her house; but such was not the case, and +Thurston, tampering with his own integrity of purpose, rather wished +that this much coveted acquaintance should be incidental, and their +interviews seem accidental, so that he should not commit himself, or in +any way lead her to form expectations which he had no surety of being +able to meet. How long this cool and cautious foresight might avail him, +if once he were brought in close companionship with Marian, remains to +be seen. It happened one Sunday afternoon in October that he saw Marian +take leave of her venerable escort, Colonel Thornton, at the churchyard +gate, and gayly and alone turn into the forest road that led to her own +home. He immediately threw himself into his saddle and followed her, +with the assumed air of an indifferent gentleman pursuing his own path. +He overtook her near one of those gates that frequently intersect the +road. Bowing, he passed her, opened the gate, and held it open for her +passage. Marian smiled, and nodded with a pleasant: + +"Good-afternoon, Mr. Willcoxen," as she went through, + +Thurston closed the gate and rode on after her. + +"This is glorious weather, Miss Mayfield." + +"Glorious, indeed!" replied Marian. + +"And the country, too, is perfectly beautiful at this season. I never +could sympathize with the poets who call autumnal days 'the melancholy +days--the saddest of the year.'" + +"Nor I," said Marian; "for to me, autumn, with its refulgent skies, and +gorgeous woods, and rich harvest, and its prospect of Christmas cheer +and wintry repose has ever seemed a gay and festive season. The year's +great work is done, the harvest is gathered, enjoyment is present, and +repose at hand." + +"In the world of society," said Thurston, "it is in the evening, after +the labor or the business of the day is over, that the gayest scenes of +festivity occur, just preceding the repose of sleep. So I receive your +thought of the autumn--the evening of the year, preceding the rest of +winter. Nature's year's work is done; she puts on her most gorgeous +robes, and holds a festival before she sinks to her winter's sleep." + +Marian smiled brightly upon him. + +"Yes; my meaning, I believe, only more pointedly expressed." + +That smile--that smile! It lightened through all his nature with +electric, life-giving, spirit-realizing power, elevating and inspiring +his whole being. His face, too, was radiant with life as he answered the +maiden's smile. + +But something in his eyes caused Marian's glances to fall, and the rosy +clouds to roll up over her cheeks and brow. + +Then Thurston governed his countenance--let no ardent or admiring +glance escape, and when he spoke again his manner and words were more +deferential. + +"We spoke of the world of nature, Miss Mayfield; but how is it with the +world of man? To many--nay, to most of the human race--autumn is the +herald of a season not of festivity and repose, but of continued labor, +and increased want and privation and suffering." + +"That is because society is not in harmony with nature; man has wandered +as far from nature as from God," said Marian. + +"And as much needs a Saviour to lead him back to the one as to the +other," replied Thurston. + +"You know that--you feel it?" asked Marian, turning upon him one of her +soul-thrilling glances. + +Thurston trembled with delicious pleasure through all his frame; but, +guarding his eyes, lest again they should frighten off her inspiring +glances, he answered, fervently: + +"I know and feel it most profoundly." + +And Thurston thought he spoke the very truth, though in sober fact he +had never thought or felt anything about the subject until now that +Marian, his inspirer, poured her life-giving spirit into his soul. + +She spoke again, earnestly, ardently. + +"You know and feel it most profoundly! That deep knowledge and that deep +feeling is the chrism oil that has anointed you a messenger and a +laborer in the cause of humanity. 'Called and chosen,' be thou also +faithful. There are many inspired, many anointed; but few are faithful!" + +"Thou, then, art the high priestess that hast poured the consecrated oil +on my head. I will be faithful!" + +He spoke with such sudden enthusiasm, such abandon, that it had the +effect of bringing Marian back to the moderation and _retenue_ of her +usual manner. He saw it in the changed expression of her countenance; +and what light or shade of feeling passed over that beautiful face +unmarked of him? When he spoke again it was composedly. + +"You speak as the preachers and teachers preach and teach--in general +terms. Be explicit; what would you have me to do, Miss Mayfield? Only +indicate my work, and tell me how to set about the accomplishment of it, +and never knight served liege lady as I will serve you!" + +Marian smiled. + +"How? Oh, you must make yourself a position from which to influence +people! I do not know that I can advise you how; but you will find a +way, as--were I a man, I should!" + +"Being a woman, you have done wonders!" + +"For a woman," said Marian, with a glance full of archness and +merriment. + +"No, no; for any one, man or woman! But your method, Marian? I beg your +pardon, Miss Mayfield," he added, with a blush of ingenuous +embarrassment. + +"Nay, now," said the frank girl; "do call me Marian if that name springs +more readily from your lips than the other. Almost all persons call me +Marian, and I like it." + +A rush of pleasure thrilled all through his veins; he gave her words a +meaning and a value for himself that they did not certainly possess; he +forgot that the grace extended to him was extended to all--nay, that she +had even said as much in the very words that gave it. He answered: + +"And if I do, fairest Marian, shall I, too, hear my own Christian name +in music from your lips?" + +"Oh, I do not know," said the beautiful girl, laughing and blushing. "If +it ever comes naturally, perhaps; certainly not now. Why, the venerable +Colonel Thornton calls me 'Marian,' but it never comes to me to call him +'John!'" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +LOVE. + + +This was but one of many such meetings, Thurston growing more and more +infatuated each time, while Marian scarcely tried to hide the pleasure +which his society gave her. + +One day when riding through the forest he met Marian returning from +the village and on foot. She was radiant with health and beauty, and +blushing and smiling with joy as she met him. A little basket hung upon +her arm. To dismount and join her, to take the basket from her arm, and +to look in her face and declare in broken exclamations his delight at +seeing her, were the words and the work of an instant. + +"And whither away this morning, fairest Marian?" he inquired, when +unrebuked he had pressed her hand to his lips, and drawn it through his +arm. + +"I have been to the village, and am now going home," said the maiden. + +"It is a long walk through the forest." + +"Yes; but my pony has cast a shoe and lamed himself slightly, and I fear +I shall have to dispense with his services for a few days." + +"Thank God!" fervently ejaculated Thurston to himself. + +"But it is beautiful weather, and I enjoy walking," said the young girl. + +"Marian--dearest Marian, will you let me attend you home? The walk is +lonely, and it may not be quite safe for a fair woman to take it +unattended." + +"I have no fear of interruption," said Marian. + +"Yet you will not refuse to let me attend you? Do not, Marian!" he +pleaded, earnestly, fervently, clasping her hand, and pouring the whole +strength of his soul in the gaze that he fastened on her face. + +"I thank you; but you were riding the other way." + +"It was merely an idle saunter, to help to kill the time between this +and Sunday, dearest girl. Now, rest you, my queen! my queen! upon this +mossy rock, as on a throne, while I ride forward and leave my horse. I +will be with you again in fifteen minutes; in the meantime here is +something for you to look at," he said, drawing from his pocket an +elegant little volume bound in purple and gold, and laying it in her +lap. He then smiled, sprang into his saddle, bowed, and galloped away, +leaving Marian to examine her book. It was a London copy of Spenser's +Fairy Queen, superbly illustrated, one of the rarest books to be found +in the whole country at that day. On the fly-leaf the name of Marian was +written, in the hand of Thurston. + +Some minutes passed in the pleasing examination of the volume; and +Marian was still turning the leaves with unmixed pleasure--pleasure in +the gift, and pleasure in the giver--when Thurston, even before the +appointed time, suddenly rejoined her. + +"So absorbed in Spenser that you did not even hear or see me!" said the +young man, half reproachfully. + +"I was indeed far gone in Fairy Land! Oh, I thank you so much for your +beautiful present! It is indeed a treasure. I shall prize it greatly," +said Marian, in unfeigned delight. + +"Do you know that Fairy Land is not obsolete, dearest Marian?" he said, +fixing his eyes upon her charming face with an ardor and earnestness +that caused hers to sink. + +"Come," she said, in a low voice, and rising from the rock; "let us +leave this place and go forward." + +They walked on, speaking softly of many things--of the vision of +Spenser, of the beautiful autumnal weather, of anything except the one +interest that now occupied both hearts. The fear of startling her +bashful trust, and banishing those bewitching glances that sometimes +lightened on his face, made him cautious, and restrained his eagerness; +while excessive consciousness kept her cheeks dyed with blushes, and her +nerves vibrating sweet, wild music, like the strings of some aeolian +harp when swept by the swift south wind. + +He determined, during the walk, to plead his love, and ascertain his +fate. Ay! but how approach the subject when, at every ardent glance or +tone, her face, her heart, shrank and closed up, like the leaves of the +sensitive plant. + +So they rambled on, discovering new beauties in nature; now it would be +merely an oak leaf of rare richness of coloring; now some tiny insect +with finished elegance of form; now a piece of the dried branch of a +tree that Thurston picked up, to bid her note the delicately blending +shades in its gray hue, or the curves and lines of grace in its twisted +form--the beauty of its slow return to dust; and now perhaps it would +be the mingled colors in the heaps of dried leaves drifted at the foot +of some great tree. + +And then from the minute loveliness of nature's sweet, small things, +their eyes would wander to the great glory of the autumnal sky, or the +variegated array of the gorgeous forest. + +Thurston knew a beautiful glade, not far distant, to the left of their +path, from which there was a very fine view that he wished to show his +companion. And he led Marian thither by a little moss-bordered, +descending path. + +It was a natural opening in the forest, from which, down a still, +descending vista, between the trees, could be seen the distant bay, and +the open country near it, all glowing under a refulgent sky, and hazy +with the golden mist of Indian Summer. Before them the upper branches of +the nearest trees formed a natural arch above the picture. + +Marian stood and gazed upon the wondrous beauty of the scene with soft, +steady eyes, with lips breathlessly severed, in perfect silence and +growing emotion. + +"This pleases you," said Thurston. + +She nodded, without removing her gaze. + +"You find it charming?" + +She nodded again, and smiled. + +"You were never here before?" + +"Never." + +"Marian, you are a lover of nature." + +"I do not know," she said, softly, "whether it be love, or worship, or +both; but some pictures spell-bind me. I stand amidst a scene like this, +enchanted, until my soul has absorbed as much of its beauty and glory +and wisdom as it can absorb. As the Ancient Mariner held with his +'glittering eye' the wedding guest, so such a picture holds me +enthralled until I have heard the story and learned the lesson it has to +tell and teach me. Did you ever, in the midst of nature's liberal +ministrations, feel your spirit absorbing, assimilating, growing? Or is +it only a fantastic action of mine that beauty is the food of soul?" + +She turned her eloquent eyes full upon him. + +He forgot his prudence, forgot her claims, forgot everything, and caught +and strained her to his bosom, pressing passionate kisses upon her lips, +and the next instant he was kneeling at her feet, imploring her to +forgive him--to hear him. + +Marian stood with her face bowed and hidden in her hands; but above the +tips of her fingers, her forehead, crimsoned, might be seen. One half +her auburn hair had escaped and rippled down in glittering disorder. And +so she stood a few moments. But soon, removing her hands and turning +away, she said, in a troubled tone: + +"Rise. Never kneel to any creature; that homage is due the Creator +alone. Oh, rise!" + +"First pardon me--first hear me, beloved girl!" + +"Oh, rise--rise, I beg you! I cannot bear to see a man on his knee, +except in prayer to God!" she said, walking away. + +He sprang up and followed her, took her hand, and, with gentle +compulsion, made her sit down upon a bank; and then he sank beside her, +exclaiming eagerly, vehemently, yet in a low, half-smothered tone: + +"Marian, I love you! I never spoke these words to woman before, for I +never loved before. Marian, the first moment that I saw you I loved you, +without knowing what new life it was that had kindled in my nature. I +have loved you more and more every day! I love you more than words can +tell or heart conceive! I only live in your presence! Marian! not one +word or glance for me? Oh, speak! Turn your dear face toward me," he +said, putting his hand gently around her head. "Speak to me, Marian, for +I adore--I worship you!" + +"I do not deserve to be loved in that way. I do not wish it, for it is +wrong--idolatrous," she said, in a low, trembling voice. + +"Oh! what do you mean? Is the love upon which my life seems to hang so +offensive to you? Say, Marian! Oh! you are compassionate by nature; how +can you keep me in the torture of suspense?" + +"I do not keep you so." + +"You will let me love you?" + +Marian slipped her hand in his; that was her reply. + +"You will love me?" + +For all answer she gently pressed his fingers. He pressed her hand to +his heart, to his lips, covering it with kisses. + +"Yet, oh! speak to me, dearest; let me hear from your lips that you love +me--a little--but better than I deserve. Will you? Say, Marian! Speak, +dearest girl!" + +"I cannot tell you now," she said, in a low, thrilling tone. "I am +disturbed; I wish to grow quiet; and I must go home. Let us return." + +One more passionate kiss of the hand he clasped, and then he helped her +to her feet, drew her arm within his own, and led her up the +moss-covered rocks that formed the natural steps of the ascent that led +to the homeward path. + +They were now near the verge of the forest, which, when they reached, +Marian drew her arm from his, and, extending her hand, said: + +"This is the place our roads part." + +"But you will let me attend you home?" + +"No; it would make the return walk too long." + +"That can be no consideration, I beg you will let me go with you, +Marian." + +"No; it would not be convenient to Edith to-day," said Marian, quickly +drawing her hand from his detaining grasp, waving him adieu, and walking +swiftly away across the meadow. + +Thurston gazed after her, strongly tempted to follow her; yet withal +admitting that it was best that she had declined his escort to the +cottage, and thanking Heaven that the opportunity would again be +afforded to take an "incidental" stroll with her, as she should walk to +church on Sunday morning; and so, forming the resolution to haunt the +forest-path from seven o'clock that next Sabbath morning until he should +see her, Thurston hurried home. + +And how was it with Marian? She hastened to the cottage, laid off her +bonnet and shawl, and set herself at work as diligently as usual; but a +higher bloom glowed on her cheek, a softer, brighter light beamed in her +eye, a warmer, sweeter smile hovered around her lips, a deeper, richer +tone thrilled in her voice. + +On Sunday morning the lovers "chanced" to meet again--for so Thurston +would still have had it appear as he permitted Marian to overtake him in +the forest on her way to the Sunday-school. + +She was blooming and beautiful as the morning itself as she approached. +He turned with a radiant smile to greet her. + +"Welcome! thrice welcome, dearest one! Your coming is more joyous than +that of day. Welcome, my own, dear Marian! May I now call you mine? Have +I read that angel-smile aright? Is it the blessed herald of a happy +answer to my prayer?" he whispered, as he took her hand and passed his +arm around her head and brought it down upon his bosom. "Speak, my +Marian! Speak, my beloved! Are you my own, as I am yours?" + +Her answer was so low-toned that he had to bend his head down close to +her lips to hear her murmur: + +"I love you dearly. But I love you too well to ruin your prospects. You +must not bind yourself to me just yet, dear Thurston," and meekly and +gently she sought to slip from his embrace. + +But he slid his arm around her lightly, bending his head and whispering +eagerly: + +"What mean you, Marian? Your words are incomprehensible." + +"Dear Thurston," she answered, in a tremulous and thrilling voice, "I +have known your grandfather long by report, and I am well aware of his +character and disposition and habits. But only yesterday I chanced to +learn from one who was well informed that old Mr. Willcoxen had sworn to +make you his heir only upon condition of your finding a bride of equal +or superior fortunes. If now you were to engage yourself to me, your +grandfather would disinherit you. I love you too well," she murmured +very low, "to ruin your fortunes. You must not bind yourself to me just +now, Thurston." + +And this loving, frank and generous creature was the woman, he thought, +whose good name he would have periled in a clandestine courtship in +preference to losing his inheritance by an open betrothal. A stab of +compunction pierced his bosom; he felt that he loved her more than ever, +but passion was stronger than affection, stronger than conscience, +stronger than anything in nature, except pride and ambition. He +lightened his clasp about her waist--he bent and whispered: + +"Beloved Marian, is it to bind me only that you hesitate?" + +"Only that," she answered, softly. + +"Now hear me, Marian. I swear before Heaven, and in thy sight--that--as +I have never loved woman before you--that--as I love you only of all +women--I will be faithful to you while I live upon this earth! as your +husband, if you will accept me; as your exclusive lover, whether you +will or not! I hold myself pledged to you as long as we both shall live! +There, Marian! I am bound to you as tight as vows can bind! I am pledged +to you whether you accept my pledge or not. You cannot even release, for +I am pledged to Heaven as well. There, Marian, you see I am bound, while +you only are free. Come! be generous! You have said that you loved me! +Pledge yourself to me in like manner. We are both young, dear Marian, +and we can wait. Only let me have your promise to be my wife--only let +me have that blessed assurance for the future, and I can endure the +present. Speak, dear Marian." + +"Your grandfather--" + +"He has no grudge against you, personally, sweet girl; he knows nothing, +suspects nothing of my preferences--how should he? No, dearest girl--his +notion that I must have a moneyed bride is the merest whim of dotage; we +must forgive the whims of ninety-five. That great age also augurs for us +a short engagement and a speedy union!" + +"Oh! never let us dream of that! It would be sinful, and draw down upon +us the displeasure of Heaven. Long may the old man yet live to prepare +for a better life." + +"Amen; so be it; God forbid that I should grudge the aged patriarch his +few remaining days upon earth--days, too, upon which his soul's immortal +welfare may depend," said Thurston. "But, dearest girl, it is more +difficult to get a reply from you than from a prime minister. Answer, +now, once for all, sweet girl! since I am forever bound to you; will you +pledge yourself to become my own dear wife?" + +"Yes," whispered Marian, very lowly. + +"And will you," he asked, gathering her form closer to his bosom, "will +you redeem that pledge when I demand it?" + +"Yes," she murmured sweetly, "so that it is not to harm you, or bring +you into trouble or poverty; for that I would not consent to do!" + +"God bless you; you are an angel! Oh! Marian! I find it in my heart to +sigh because I am so unworthy of you!" + +And this was spoken most sincerely. + +"You think too well of me. I fear--I fear for the consequences." + +"Why, dearest Marian?" + +"Oh, I fear that when you know me better you may love me less," she +answered, in a trembling voice. + +"Why should I?" + +"Oh! because your love may have been attracted by ideal qualities, with +which you yourself have invested me; and when your eyes are opened you +may love me less." + +"May my soul forever perish the day that I cease to love you!" said +Thurston, passionately pressing her to his heart, and sealing his +fearful oath upon her pure brow and guileless lips. "And now, beloved! +this compact is sealed! Our fates are united forever! Henceforth nothing +shall dissever us!" + +They were now drawing near the village. + +Marian suddenly stopped. + +"Dear Thurston," she said, "if you are seen waiting upon me to church do +you know what the people will say? They will say that Marian has a new +admirer in Mr. Willcoxen--and that will reach your grandfather's ears, +and give you trouble." + +"Stay! one moment, beautiful Marian! When shall we meet again?" + +"When Heaven wills." + +"And when will that be, fairest?" + +"I do not know; but do not visit me at the cottage, dear Thurston, it +would be indiscreet." + +"Marian! I must see you often. Will you meet me on the beach to-morrow +afternoon?" + +"No," answered Marian, gravely, "in this single instance, I must not +meet you, though my heart pleads like a sick child with me to do it, +Thurston, dear Thurston." + +She raised her eyes to his as she spoke, and giving way to a sudden +impulse, dropped her head upon his shoulder, put her arms around his +neck, and embraced him. And then his better angel rose above the storm +of passion that was surging through his veins, and calmed the tumult, +and spoke through his lips. + +"You are right, Marian--fairest and dearest, you are right. And I not +only love you best of all women, but honor you more than all men. It +shall be as you have said. I will not seek you anywhere. As the mother, +dying of plague, denies herself the parting embrace of her 'unstricken' +child--so, for your sake, will I refrain from the heaven of your +presence." + +"And, dear Thurston," she said, raising her head, "it will not be so +hard to bear, as you now think. We shall see each other every Sunday in +the church, and every Monday in the lecture-room. We shall often be of +the same invited company at neighbors' houses. Remember, also, that +Christmas is coming, with its protracted festivities, when we shall see +each other almost every evening, at some little neighborhood gathering. +And now I must really hurry; oh! how late I am this morning! Good-by, +dearest Thurston!" + +"Good-by, my own Marian." + +Blushingly she received, his parting kiss, and hurried along the little +foot-path leading to the village. + +Thurston had been perfectly sincere in his resolution not to seek a +private interview with Marian; and he kept it faithfully all the week, +with less temptation to break it, because he did not know where to watch +for her. + +But Sunday came again--and Thurston, with a little bit of human +self-deception and _finesse_, avoided the forest path, where he had met +her the preceding Sabbath, and saying to himself that he would not +waylay her, took the river road, refusing to confess even to himself +that he acted upon the calculation that she also would take the same +road, in order to avoid meeting him in the forest. + +His "calculus of probabilities" had not failed him. He had not walked +far upon the forest-shaded banks of the river before he saw Marian +walking before him. He hastened and overtook her. + +At first seeing him her face flushed radiant with surprise and joy. +She seemed to think that nothing short of necromancy could have conjured +him to that spot. She had no reproaches for him, because she had no +suspicion that he had trifled with his promise not to seek her. But she +expressed her astonishment. + +"I did not know you ever came this way," she said. + +"Nor did I ever before, love; but I remembered my pledge, not to follow +or to seek you, and so I avoided the woodland path where we met last +Sunday," said Thurston, persuading himself that he spoke the precise +truth. + +It is not necessary to pursue with them this walk; lovers scarcely thank +us for such intrusions. It is sufficient to say that this was not the +last one. + +Blinded by passion and self-deception, and acting upon the same astute +calculus of probabilities, Thurston often contrived to meet Marian in +places where his presence might be least expected, and most often in +paths that she had taken for the express purpose of keeping out of his +way. + +Thus it fell that many forest walks and seashore strolls were taken, all +through the lovely Indian summer weather. And these seemed so much the +result of pure accident that Marian never dreamed of complaining that +his pledge had been tampered with. + +But Thurston began to urge her consent to a private marriage. + +From a secret engagement to a secret marriage, the transition seemed to +him very easy. + +"And, dearest Marian, we are both of age, both free--we should neither +displease God nor wrong man, by such a step--while it would at the same +time secure our union, and save us from injustice and oppression! do you +not see?" + +Such was his argument, which he pleaded and enforced with all the powers +of passion and eloquence. In vain. Though every interview increased his +power over the maiden--though her affections and her will were both +subjected, the domain of conscience was unconquered. And Marian still +answered: + +"Though a secret marriage would break no law of God or man, nor +positively wrong any human creature, yet it might be the cause of +misunderstanding and suspicion--and perhaps calumny, causing much +distress to those who love and respect me. Therefore it would be +wrong. And I must do no wrong, even for your dear sake." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +CLOUDY. + + +It was Christmas Eve and a fierce snow-storm was raging. + +Old Mr. Willcoxen sat half doubled up in his leather-covered elbow +chair, in the chimney corner of his bedroom, occupied with smoking his +clay pipe, and thinking about his money bags. + +Fanny was in the cold, bleak upper rooms of the house, looking out of +the windows upon the wide desolation of winter, the waste of snow, the +bare forest, the cold, dark waters of the bay--listening to the driving +tempest, and singing, full of glee as she always was when the elements +were in an uproar. + +Thurston was the sole and surly occupant of the sitting-room, where he +had thrown himself at full length upon the sofa, to lie and yawn over +the newspaper, which he vowed was as stale as last year's almanac. + +Suddenly the front door was thrown open, and some one came, followed by +the driving wind and snow, into the hall. + +Thurston threw aside his paper, started up, and went out. + +What was his surprise to see Cloudesley Mornington standing there, with +a face so haggard, with eyes so wild and despairing, that, in alarm, he +exclaimed: + +"Good heaven, Cloudesley. What is the matter? Has anything happened at +home?" + +"Home! home! What home? I have no home upon this earth now, and never +shall have!" exclaimed the poor youth, distractedly. + +"My dear fellow, never speak so despondently. What is it now? a +difficulty with the commodore?" + +"God's judgment light upon him!" cried Cloudy, pushing past and hurrying +up the stairs. + +Thurston could not resume his former composure; something in Cloudy's +face had left a feeling of uneasiness in his mind, and the oftener he +recalled the expression the more troubled he became. + +Until at length he could bear the anxiety no longer, and quietly leaving +his room, he went up-stairs in search of the youth, and paused before +the boy's door. By the clicking, metallic sounds within, he suspected +him to be engaged in loading a pistol; for what purpose! Not an instant +was to be risked in rapping or questioning. + +With one vigorous blow of his heel Thurston burst open the door, and +sprung forward and dashed the fatal weapon from his hand, and then +confronted him, exclaiming: + +"Good God, Cloudy! What does this mean?" + +Cloudy looked at him wildly for a minute, and when Thurston repeated the +question, he answered with a hollow laugh: + +"That I am crazy, I guess! don't you think so?" + +"Cloudy, my dear fellow, we have been like brothers all our lives; now +won't you tell me what has brought you to this pass? What troubles you +so much? Perhaps I can aid you in some way. Come, what is it now?" + +"And you really don't know what it is? Don't you know that there is a +wedding on hand?" + +"A wedding!" + +"Aye, man alive! A wedding! They are going to marry the child Jacquelina +to old Grimshaw." + +"Oh, yes, I know that; but, my dear boy, what of it? Surely you were +never in love with little Jacko?" + +"In love with her! ha! ha! no, not as you understand it! who take it to +be that fantastical passion that may be inspired by the first sight of a +pretty face. No! I am not in love with her, unless I could be in love +with myself. For Lina was my other self. Oh, you who can talk so glibly +of being 'in love,' little know that strength of attachment when two +hearts have grown together from childhood." + +"It is like a brother's and a sister's." + +"Never! brothers and sisters cannot love so. What brother ever loved a +sister as I have loved Lina from our infancy? What brother ever would +have done and suffered as much for his sister as I have for Lina?" + +"You! done and suffered for Lina!" said Thurston, beginning to think he +was really mad. + +"Yes! how many faults as a boy I have shouldered for her. How many +floggings I have taken. How many shames I have borne for her, which she +never knew. Oh! how I have spent my night watches at sea, dreaming of +her. For years I have been saving up all my money to buy a pretty +cottage for her and her mother that she loves so well. I meant to have +bought or built one this very year. And after having made the pretty +nest, to have wooed my pretty bird to come and occupy it. I meant to +have been such a good boy to her mother, too! I pleased myself with +fancying how the poor, little timorous woman would rest in so much peace +and confidence in our home--with me and Lina. I have saved so much that +I am richer than any one knows, and I meant to have accomplished all +that this very time of coming home. I hurried home. I reached the house. +I ran in like a wild boy as I was. Her voice called me. I followed its +sound--ran up-stairs to her room. I found her in bed. I thought she was +sick. But she sprang up, and threw herself upon my bosom, and with her +arms clasped about my neck, wept as if her heart would break. And while +I wondered what the matter could be, her mother interfered and told me. +God's judgment light upon them all, I say! Oh! it was worse than murder. +It was a horrid, horrid crime, that has no name because there is none +heinous enough for it. Thurston! I acted like a very brute! God help me, +I was both stunned and maddened, as it seems to me now. For I could not +speak. I tore her little, fragile, clinging arms from off my neck, and +thrust her from me. And here I am. Don't ask me how I loved her! I have +no words to tell you!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE FAIRY BRIDE. + + +Since the morning of her ill-starred marriage, Sans Souci had waned like +a waning moon; and the bridegroom saw, with dismay, his fairy bride +slowly fading, passing, vanishing from his sight. There was no very +marked disorder, no visible or tangible symptoms to guide the +physicians, who were in succession summoned to her relief. Very obscure +is the pathology of a wasting heart, very occult the scientific +knowledge that can search out the secret sickness, which, the further it +is sought, shrinks the deeper from sight. + +Once, indeed, while she was sitting with her aunt and uncle, the latter +suddenly and rudely mentioned Cloudy's name, saying that "the fool" was +sulking over at Dell-Delight; that he believed he would have blown his +brains out if it had not been for Thurston, and for his own part, he +almost wished that he had been permitted to do so, because he thought +none but a fool would ever commit suicide, and the fewer fools there +were in the world the better, etc., etc. His monologue was suddenly +arrested by Henrietta's rushing forward to lift up Sans Souci, who had +turned very pale, and dropped from her seat to the floor, where she lay +silently quivering and gasping, like some poor wounded and dying bird. + +They tacitly resolved, from this time forth, never to name Cloudy in her +presence again. + +And the commodore struck his heavy stick upon the floor, and +emphatically thanked God that Nace Grimshaw had not been present to +witness her agitation and its cause. + +And Jacquelina waned and waned. And the physicians, wearied out with her +case, prescribed "Change of air and scene--pleasant company--cheerful +amusement--excitement," etc. A winter in Washington was suggested. And +the little invalid was consulted as to her wishes upon the subject. +"Yes," Jacquelina said she would go--anywhere, if only her aunty and +Marian would go with her--she wanted Marian. + +Mrs. Waugh readily consented to accompany her favorite, and also to try +to induce "Hebe," as she called blooming Marian, to make one of their +party. + +And the very first day that the weather and the roads would admit of +traveling, Mrs. Waugh rode over to Old Fields to see Marian, and talk +with her about the contemplated journey. + +The proposition took the young lady by surprise; there were several +little lets and hindrances to her immediate acceptance of the +invitation, which might, however, be disposed of; and finally, Marian +begged a day to consider about it. With this answer, Mrs. Waugh was +forced to be content, and she took her leave, saying: + +"Remember, Hebe! that I think your society and conversation more +needful, and likely to be more beneficial to poor Lapwing, than anything +else we can procure for her; therefore, pray decide to go with us, if +possible." + +Marian deprecated such reliance upon her imperfect abilities, but +expressed her strong desire to do all the good she possibly could effect +for the invalid, and made little doubt but that she should at least be +able to attend her. So, with this hope, Mrs. Waugh kissed her and +departed. + +The very truth was, that Marian wished to see and consult her bethrothed +before consenting to leave home for what seemed to her to be so long a +journey, and for so long a period. In fact, Marian was not now a free +agent; she had suffered her free will to slip from her own possession +into that of Thurston. + +She had not seen him all the wretched weather, and her heart now yearned +for his presence. And that very afternoon Marian had a most pressing +errand to Charlotte Hall, to purchase groceries, which the little family +had got entirely out of during the continuance of the snow. + +There was no certainty that she should see Thurston; still she hoped to +do so, nor was her hope disappointed. + +He overtook her a short distance from the village, on her road home. + +Their meeting was a very glad one--heart sprang to heart and hand to +hand--and neither affected to conceal the pleasure that it gave them. +After the first joyous greetings, and the first earnest and affectionate +inquiries about each other's health and welfare, both became grave and +silent for a little while. Marian was reflecting how to propose to leave +him for a three-months' visit to the gay capital, little thinking that +Thurston himself was perplexed with the question of how to break to her +the news of the necessity of his own immediate departure to England for +an absence of at least six or eight months. Marian spoke first. + +"Dear Thurston, I have something to propose to you, that I fear you will +not like very well; but if you do not, speak freely; for I am not +bound." + +"I--I do not understand you, love! Pray explain at once," said he, quick +to take alarm where she was concerned. + +"You know poor little Jacquelina has fallen into very bad health and +spirits? Well, her physicians recommend change of air and scene, and her +friends have decided to take her to Washington to pass the remainder of +the winter. And the little creature has set her sickly fancy upon having +me to go with her. Now, I think it is some sort a duty to go, and I +would not willingly refuse. Nevertheless, dear Thurston, I dread to +leave you, and if you think you will be very lonesome this winter +without me--if you are likely to miss me one-half as much as I have +missed you these last three weeks, I will not leave you at all." + +He put his hand out and took hers, and pressed it, and would have +carried it to his lips, but her wicked little pony suddenly jerked away. + +"My own dearest Marian," he said; "my frank, generous love! if I were +going to remain in this neighborhood this winter, no consideration, I +fear, for others' good, would induce me to consent to part with you." + +It was now Marian's turn to change color, and falter in her tones, as +she asked: + +"You--you are not going away?" + +"Sweet Marian, yes! A duty--a necessity too imperative to be denied, +summons me." + +She kept her eyes fixed on his face in painful anxiety. + +"I will explain. You have heard, dear Marian, that after my father's +death my mother married a second time?" + +"No--I never heard of it." + +"She did, however--her second husband was a Scotchman. She lived with +him seven years, and then died, leaving him one child, a boy six years +of age. After my mother's death, my stepfather returned to Scotland, +taking with him my half-brother, and leaving me with my grandfather. And +all communication gradually ceased between us. Within this week, +however, I have received letters from Edinburgh, informing me of the +death of my stepfather, and the perfect destitution of my half-brother, +now a lad of twelve years of age. He is at present staying with the +clergyman who attended his father in his last illness, and who has +written me the letters giving me the information that I now give you. +Thus, you see, my dearest love, how urgent the duty is that takes me +from your side. Yet--What! tears, my Marian! Ah, if so! let my dearest +one but say the word, and I will not leave her. I will send money over +to the lad instead." + +"No, no! Ah! no, never trust your mother's orphan boy to strangers, or +to his own guidance. Go for the poor, desolate lad, and never leave him, +or suffer him to leave you. I know what orphanage in childhood is, dear +Thurston, and so must you. Bring the boy home. And if he lives with you, +I will do all I can to supply his mother's place." + +"Dear girl! dear, dear Marian, my heart so longs to press you to itself. +A plague upon these horses that keep us so far apart! I wish we were on +foot!" + +"Do you?" smiled Marian, directing his attention to the sloppy path down +which they were riding. + +Thurston smiled ruefully, and then sighed. + +"When do you set out on your long journey, dear Thurston?" + +"I have not fixed the time, my Marian! I have not the courage to name +the day that shall part us for so long." + +He looked at her with a heavy sigh, and then added: + +"I shrink from appointing the time of going, as a criminal might shrink +from giving the signal for his own execution." + +"Then let some other agent do it," said Marian, smiling at his +earnestness. Then she added--"I shall go to Washington with Jacquelina. +Her party will set out on Wednesday next. And, dear Thurston, I shall +not like to leave you here, at all. I shall go with more content, if I +knew that you set out the same day for your journey." + +"But fairest Marian, never believe but that if you go to Washington, I +shall take that city in on my way. There is a vessel to sail on the +first of February, from Baltimore, for Liverpool. I shall probably go by +her. I shall pass through Washington City on my way to Baltimore. Nay, +indeed! what should hinder me from joining your party and traveling with +you, since we are friends and neighbors, and go at the same time, from +the same neighborhood, by the same road, to the same place?" he asked, +eagerly. + +A smile of joy illumined Marian's face. + +"Truly," she answered, after a short pause. "I see no objection to that +plan. And, oh! Thurston," she said, holding out her hand, and looking at +him with her face holy and beaming with affection, "do you know what +fullness of life and comfort--what sweetness of rest and contentment I +feel in your presence, when I can have that rightly?" + +"My own dear Marian! Heaven hasten the day when we shall be forever +united." + +And he suddenly sprang from his horse--lifted her from her saddle, and +holding her carefully above the sloppy path, folded her fondly to his +bosom, pressed kisses on her lips, and then replaced her, saying: + +"Dear Marian, forgive me! My heart was half breaking with its need to +press you to itself! Now then, dearest, I shall consider it settled that +I join your party to Washington. I shall call at Locust Hill and see +Mrs. Waugh, inform her of my destination, and ask her permission to +accompany her. By the way--when do you give your answer to that lady?" + +"I shall ride over to the Hill to-morrow morning for that purpose." + +"Very well, dearest. In that case I will also appoint the morning as my +time of calling; so that I may have the joy of meeting you there." + +They had by this time reached the verge of the forest and the cross-road +where their paths divided. And here they bade a loving, lingering adieu +to each other, and separated. + +That evening Marian announced to Edith her decision to accompany +Jacquelina to Washington City. + +Edith approved the plan. + +The next morning Marian left the house to go to Locust Hill, where, +besides the family, she found Thurston already awaiting her. + +Thurston was seated by Jacquelina, endeavoring, by his gay and brilliant +sallies of wit and humor, to charm away the sullen sadness of the pale +and petulant little beauty. + +And, truth to tell, soon fitful, fleeting smiles broke over the little +wan face--smiles that grew brighter and more frequent as she noticed the +surly anxiety they gave to Dr. Grimshaw, who sat, like the dog in the +manger, watching Thurston sunning himself in the light of eyes that +never, by any chance, shone upon him, their rightful proprietor! + +Never! for though Jacquelina had paled and waned, failed and faded, +until she seemed more like a moonlight phantom than a form of flesh and +blood--her spirit was unbowed, unbroken, and she had kept her oath of +uncompromising enmity with fearful perseverance. Petitions, +expostulations, prayers, threats, had been all in vain to procure one +smile, one word, one glance of compliance or forgiveness. And the fate +of Dr. Grimshaw, with his unwon bride, was like that of Tantalus. And +now the inconceivable tortures of jealousy were about to be added to his +other torments, for this man now sitting by his side, and basking in the +sunshine of her smiles, was the all-praised Adonis who had won her +maiden admiration months ago. + +But Thurston soon put an end to his sufferings--not in consideration of +his feelings, but because the young gentleman could not afford to lose +or risk the chance of making one of the party which was to number Marian +among its members. Therefore, with a light smile and careless bow, he +left the side of Jacquelina and crossed over to Mrs. Waugh, with whom, +also, he entered into a gay and bantering conversation, in the course of +which Mrs. Waugh mentioned to him their purpose of going to Washington +for a month or two. + +It was then that, with an air of impromptu, Thurston informed her of his +own contemplated journey and voyage, and of his intention to go to +Baltimore by way of Washington. + +"And when do you leave here?" asked Mrs. Waugh. + +"I thought of starting on Wednesday morning." + +"The very day that we shall set out--why can't we travel in company?" +asked Henrietta, socially. + +"I should be charmed, indeed--delighted! And nothing shall prevent me +having that honor and pleasure, if Mrs. Waugh will permit my +attendance." + +"Why, my dear Thurston, to be sure I will--but don't waste fine speeches +on your uncle's old wife. How do you travel?" + +"As far as Washington I shall go on horseback, with a mounted groom to +bring back the horses, when I proceed on my journey by stage to +Baltimore." + +"On horseback! Now that is excellent--that is really providential, as it +falls out--for here is my Hebe, whom I have coaxed to be of the party, +and who will have to perform the journey also on horseback, and you will +make an admirable cavalier for her!" + +Thurston turned and bowed to Marian, and expressed, in courtly terms, +the honor she would confer, and the pleasure she would give, in +permitting him to serve her. And no one, to have seen him, would have +dreamed that the subject had ever before been mentioned between them. + +Marian blushed and smiled, and expressing her thanks, accepted his +offered escort. + +These preliminaries being settled, Thurston soon after arose and took +leave. + +Marian remained some time longer to arrange some little preparatory +matters with Mrs. Waugh, and then bade them good-by, and hastened +homeward. + +But she saw Thurston walking his horse up and down the forest-path, and +impatiently waiting for her. + + * * * * * + +Dr. Grimshaw was very much dissatisfied; and no sooner had Marian left +the home, and left him alone with Mrs. Waugh and Jacquelina, than he +turned to the elder lady, and said, with some asperity: + +"I think it would have been well, Mrs. Waugh, if you had consulted the +other members of your party before making so important an addition to +it." + +"And I think it would be better, Dr. Grimshaw, if you would occupy your +valuable time and attention with affairs that fall more immediately +within your own province," said Henrietta, loftily, as she would +sometimes speak. + +Dr. Grimshaw deigned no reply. He closed his mouth with a spasmodic +snap, and sat ruminating--the very picture of wretchedness. He was, +indeed, to be pitied! For no patience, no kindness, no wooing could win +from his bride one smile. That very afternoon, under the combined +goadings of exasperated self-love and poignant jealousy, Dr. Grimshaw +sought an interview with Mrs. L'Oiseau, and urged her, in the most +strenuous manner, to exert her maternal influence in bringing her +daughter to terms. + +And Mrs. L'Oiseau sent for Jacquelina, to have a talk with her. But not +all her arguments, entreaties, or even tears, could prevail with the +obstinate bride to relax one single degree of her unforgiving antagonism +to her detested bridegroom. + +"Mother," she said, with sorrowful bitterness, "you are well now; +indeed, you never were so ill as I was led to believe; and you are +independent. I parted with my only hope of happiness in life to render +you so; I sold myself in a formal marriage to be the legal medium of +endowing Dr. Grimshaw with a certain landed estate. Even into that +measure I was deceived--no more of that! it crazes me! The conditions +are all fulfilled; he will have the property, and you are independent. +And now he has no further claim upon me, and no power over me!" + +"He has, Jacquelina; and it is only Dr. Grimshaw's forbearance that +permits you to indulge in this wicked whim." + +"His forbearance! Oh! hasn't he been forbearing, though!" she exclaimed, +with a mocking laugh. + +"Yes; he has, little as you are disposed to acknowledge it. You do not +seem to know that he can compel your submission!" + +"Can he!" she hissed, drawing her breath sharply through her clenched +teeth, and clutching her fingers convulsively, while a white ring +gleamed around the blue iris of her dilated eyes. "Let him try! let him +drive me to desperation, and then learn how spirits dare to escape! But +he will not do that. Mimmy! he reads me better than you do; he knows +that he must not urge me beyond my powers of endurance. No, mother! Let +him take my uncle into his counsels again, if he pleases; let them +combine all their ingenuity, and wickedness, and power, and bring them +all to bear on me at once; let them do their worst--they shall not gain +one concession from me; not one smile, not one word, not one single look +of tolerance--so help me heaven! And they know it, mother!--they know +it! And why? You are secured from their malice; now they can turn no +screws upon my heart-strings!--and I am free! They know it, mother--they +know it, if you do not." + +"But, Jacquelina, this is a very, very wicked life to lead! You are +living in a state of mortal sin while you persist in this shocking +rebellion against the authority and just rights of your husband." + +"He is not my husband! that I utterly deny! I have never made him such! +There was nothing in our nominal marriage to give him that claim. It was +a mere legal form, for a mercenary purpose. It was a wicked and shameful +subterfuge; a sacrilegious desecration of God's holy altar! but in its +wickedness heaven knows I had little will! I was deluded and disturbed; +facts were misrepresented to me, threats were made that could never have +been executed; my fears were excited for your life; my affections were +wrought upon; I was driven out of my senses even before I did consent to +be his nominal wife--the legal sumpter-mule to carry him an estate. I +promised nothing more, and I have kept all my promises. It is over! it +is over! it is done! and it cannot be undone! But I never--never will +forgive that man for the part he played in the drama!" + +"_Ave Maria, Mater Dolorosa!_ Was ever a mother so sorrowful as I? Holy +saints and angels! how you shock me. Don't you know, wretched child, +that you are committing deadly sin? Don't you know, alas! the holy +church would refuse you its communion?" + +"Let it! I will be excommunicated before I will give Dr. Grimshaw one +tolerant glance! I will risk the eternal rather than fall into the +nearer perdition!" + +"Holy Mary save her! Don't you know, most miserable child! that such is +your condition, that if you were to die now your soul would go to +burning flames?" + +"Ha! ha! Where do you think it is now, Mimmy?" + +"You are mad! You don't know what you're talking about! And, alas! you +are half an infidel, I know, for you don't believe in hell!" + +"Yes, I do, Mimmy! Oh! yes, indeed I do! If ever my faith was shaken +in that article of belief, it is firm enough now! It is more than +re-established, for, look you, Mimmy! I believe in heaven, but I know +of hell!" + +"I'm very glad you do, my dear. And I hope you will meditate much upon +it, and it may lead you to change your course in regard to Dr. Grimshaw." + +"Mimmy!" she said, with a wild laugh, "is there a deeper pit in +perdition than that to which you urge me now?" + + * * * * * + +Fortune certainly favored the lovers that day; for when Thurston reached +home in the evening, his grandfather said to him: + +"Well, Mr. Jackanapes, since you are to sail from the port of Baltimore, +I think it altogether best that you should take a private conveyance, +and go by way of Washington." + +"That will be a very lonesome manner of traveling, sir," answered the +young man, demurely. + +"It will be a very cheap one, you mean, and, therefore, will not befit +you, Sir Millionaire! It will cost nothing, and, therefore, lose its +only charm for you, my Lord Spendthrift," cried the miser, sharply. + +"On the contrary, sir, I only object to the loneliness of the long +journey." + +"No one to chatter to, eh, Mr. Magpie! Well, it need not be so! There's +Nace Grimshaw, and his set--extravagant fools!--going up to the city to +flaunt among the fashionables. You can go as they go, and chatter to the +other monkey, Jacquelina--and make Old Nace mad with jealousy, so that +he shall go and hang himself, and leave you the widow and her fortune! +Come! is there mischief enough to amuse you? But I know you won't do it! +I know it! I know it! I know it! just because I wish you to!" + +"What, sir? drive Dr. Grimshaw to hang himself?" + +"No, sir! I mean you won't join the party." + +"You mistake, sir. I will certainly do so, if you wish it," said +Thurston, gravely. + +"Humph! Well, that is something better than I expected. You can take the +new gig, you know, and take Melchisedek to drive you, and to bring it +back." + +"Just as you say, sir," said the young gentleman, with filial +compliance. + +"And mind, take care that you are not led into any waste of money." + +"I shall take care, sir." + +And here Thurston's heart was gladdened within him. He profoundly +thanked his stars. The new gig! What an opportunity to save Marian the +fatigue of an equestrian journey--offer her an easy seat, and have the +blessing of her near companionship for the whole trip! While his +servant, Melchisedek, could ride Marian's pony. And this arrangement +would be so natural, so necessary, so inevitable, that not even the +jealous, suspicious miser could make the least question of its perfect +propriety. For, under the circumstances, what gentleman could leave a +lady of his party to travel wearily on horseback, while himself and his +servant rode cosily at ease in a gig? What gentleman would not rather +give the lady his seat in the gig--take the reins himself and drive her, +while his servant took her saddle-horse. So thought Thurston. Yet he did +not hint the subject to his grandfather--the method of their traveling +should seem the impromptu effect of chance. The next morning being +Sunday, he threw himself in Marian's path, waited for her, and rode with +her a part of the way to church. And while they were in company, he told +her of the new arrangement in the manner of traveling, that good fortune +had enabled him to make--that if she would so honor and delight him, he +should have her in the gig by his side for the whole journey. He was so +happy, so very happy in the thought, he said. + +"And so am I, dearest Thurston! very, very happy in the idea of being +with you. Thank God!" said the warm-hearted girl, offering her hand, +which he took and covered with kisses. + +Thurston's good fortune was not over. His star was still in the +ascendant, for after the morning service, while the congregation were +leaving the church, he saw Mrs. Waugh beckon him to her side. He quickly +obeyed the summons. And then, the lady said: + +"I may not see you again soon, Thurston, and, therefore, I tell you +now--that if you intend to join our party to Washington, you must make +all your arrangements to come ever to Locust Hill on Tuesday evening, +and spend the night with us; as we start at a very early hour on +Wednesday morning, and should not like to be kept waiting. My Hebe is +also coming on Tuesday evening, to stay all night. Now, not a word, +Thurston, I know what dilatory folks young people are. And I know very +well that if I don't make sure of you on Tuesday evening, you will keep +us a full hour beyond our time on Wednesday morning--you know you will." + +Thurston was secretly delighted. To spend the evening with Marian! to +spend the night under the same roof with her--preparatory to their +social journey in the morning. Thurston began to think that he was born +under a lucky planet. He laughingly assured Mrs. Waugh that he had not +the slightest intention or wish to dispute her commands, and that on +Tuesday evening he should present himself punctually at the supper-table +at Locust Hill. He further informed her that as his grandfather had most +arbitrarily forced upon him the use of his new gig, he should bring it, +and offer Miss Mayfield a seat. + +It was now Mrs. Waugh's turn to be delighted, and to declare that she +was very glad--that it would be so much easier and pleasanter to her +Hebe, than the cold, exposed, and fatiguing equestrian manner of +traveling. "But mind, young gentleman, you are not to make love to my +Hebe! for we all think her far too good for mortal man!" laughed Mrs. +Waugh. + +Thurston gravely promised that he would not--if he could help it. And +so, with mutual good feeling, they shook hands and separated. + +On Monday evening, at his farewell lecture, Thurston met Marian again, +and joyfully announced to her the invitation that Mrs. Waugh had +extended to him. And the maiden's delightful smile assured him of her +full sympathy with his gladness. + +And on Tuesday evening, the whole party for Washington was assembled +around the tea-table at Locust Hill. The evening passed very cheerily. +The commodore, Mrs. Waugh, Marian and Thurston, were all in excellent +spirits. And Thurston, out of pure good nature, sought to cheer and +enliven the pretty, peevish bride, Jacquelina, who, out of caprice, +affected a pleasure in his attentions that she was very far from +feeling. This gave so much umbrage to Dr. Grimshaw that Mrs. Waugh +really feared some unpleasant demonstration from the grim bridegroom, +and seized the first quiet opportunity of saying to the young gentleman: + +"Do, Thurston, leave Lapwing alone! Don't you see that that maniac is as +jealous as a Turk?" + +"Oh! he is!" thought Thurston, benevolently. "Very well! in that case +his jealousy shall not starve for want of ailment;" and he devoted +himself to the capricious bride with more _impressement_ than +before--consoling himself for his discreet neglect of Marian by +reflecting on the blessed morrow that should place her at his side for +the whole day. + +And so the evening passed; and at an early hour the party separated to +get a good long night's rest, preparatory to their early start in the +morning. + +But Thurston, for one, was too happy to sleep for some time; too happy +in the novel blessedness of resting under the same roof with his own +beautiful and dearest Marian. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE BRIDE OF AN HOUR. + + +It was a clear, cold, sharp, invigorating winter morning. The snow was +crusted over with hoar frost, and the bare forest trees were hung with +icicles. The cunning fox, the 'possum and the 'coon, crept shivering +from their dens; but the shy, gray rabbit, and the tiny, brown +wood-mouse, still nestled in their holes. And none of nature's small +children ventured from their nests, save the hardy and courageous little +snow-birds that came to seek their food even at the very threshold of +their natural enemy--man. + +The approaching sun had scarcely as yet reddened the eastern horizon, or +flushed the snow, when at Locust Hill our travelers assembled in the +dining-room, to partake of their last meal previous to setting forth. + +Commodore Waugh, and Mrs. L'Oiseau, who were fated to remain at home and +keep house, were also there to see the travelers off. + +The fine, vitalizing air of the winter morning, the cheerful bustle +preparatory to their departure, the novelty of the breakfast eaten by +candle-light, all combined to raise and exhilarate the spirits of the +party. + +After the merry, hasty meal was over, Mrs. Waugh, in her voluminous +cloth cloak, fur tippet, muff, and wadded hood; Jacquelina, enveloped in +several fine, soft shawls, and wearing a warm, chinchilla bonnet; and +Dr. Grimshaw, in his dreadnaught overcoat and cloak, and long-eared fur +cap, all entered the large family carriage, where, with the additional +provision of foot-stoves and hot bricks, they had every prospect of a +comfortable mode of conveyance. + +Old Oliver, in his many-caped drab overcoat, and fox-skin cap and +gloves, sat upon the coachman's box with the proud air of a king upon +his throne. And why not? It was Oliver's very first visit to the city, +and the suit of clothes he wore was brand new! + +Thurston's new gig was furnished with two fine buffalo robes--one laid +down on the seats and the floor as a carpet, and the other laid over as +a coverlet. His forethought had also provided a foot-stove for Marian. +And never was a happier man than he when he handed his smiling companion +into the gig, settled her comfortably in her seat, placed the foot-stove +under her feet, sprang in and seated himself beside her, tucked the +buffalo robe carefully in, and took the reins, and waited the signal to +move on. + +Melchisedek, or as he was commonly called, Cheesy, mounted upon Marian's +pony, rode on in advance, to open the gates for the party. Mrs. Waugh's +carriage followed. And Thurston's gig brought up the rear. And thus the +travelers set forth. + +The sun had now risen in cloudless splendor, and was striking long lines +of crimson light across the snow, and piercing through the forest +aisles. Flocks of saucy little snow-birds alighted fearlessly in their +path; but the cunning little gray rabbits just peeped with their round, +bright eyes, and then quickly hopped away. + +I need not describe their merry journey at length. My readers will +readily imagine how delightful was the trip to at least two of the +party. And those two were not Dr. Grimshaw and Jacquelina. + +Thurston pleaded so hard for a private marriage when they got to +Washington that at last Marian consented. + +So one day they drove out to the Navy Yard Hill, and there in the +remotest and quietest suburb of the city, in a little Methodist chapel, +without witnesses, Thurston and Marian were married. + +Thurston and Marian found an opportunity to be alone in the drawing-room +for the few moments preceding his departure. In those last moments she +could not find it in her heart to withhold one word whose utterance +would cheer his soul, and give him hope and joy and confidence in +departing. Marian had naturally a fine, healthful, high-toned +organization--a happy, hopeful, joyous temperament, an inclination +always to look upon the sunny side of life and events. And so, when he +drew her gently and tenderly to his bosom, and whispered: + +"You have made me the happiest and most grateful man on earth, dear, +lovely Marian! dear, lovely wife! but are you satisfied, beloved--oh! +are you satisfied? Do I leave you at ease?" + +She spoke the very truth when she confessed to him--her head being on +his shoulder, and her low tones flowing softly to his listening ear: + +"More than satisfied, Thurston--more than satisfied, I am inexpressibly +happy now. Yes, though you are going away; for, see! the pain of parting +for a few months, is lost in the joy of knowing that we are united, +though separated--and in anticipating the time not long hence, when we +shall meet again. God bless you, dearest Thurston." + +"God forever bless and love you, sweet wife." And so they parted. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +SPRING AND LOVE. + + +It was late in February before the party reached home. Thurston's +business finished he also hastened back and sought out Marian. One +memorable episode must be related. Thurston had met Marian not many +yards down the lonely forest foot-path, leading from the village school +to Old Fields one evening. + +After a walk of about a quarter of a mile through the bushes they +descended by the natural staircase of moss-covered rocks, and sat down +together upon a bed of violets at its foot. + +Before them, through the canopy of over-arching trees, was seen, like a +picture in its frame of foliage, a fine view of the open country and the +bay now bathed in purple haze of evening. + +But the fairest prospect that ever opened had no more attraction for +Thurston than if it had been a view of chimney tops from a back attic +window. He passed his right hand around Marian's shoulders, and drew her +closer to his side, and with the other hand began to untie her bonnet +strings. + +"Lay off this little bonnet. Let me see your beauteous head uncovered. +There!" he said, putting it aside, and smoothing her bright locks. "Oh, +Marian! my love! my queen! when I see only the top of your head, I think +your rippling, sunny tresses your chief beauty; but soon my eyes fall to +the blooming cheek--there never was such a cheek--so vivid, yet so +delicate, so glowing, yet so cool and fresh--like the damask rose bathed +in morning dew--so when I gaze on it I think the blushing cheek your +sweetest charm--ah! but near by breathe the rich, ripe lips, fragrant as +nectarines; and which I should swear to be the very buds of love, were +not my gaze caught up to meet your eyes--stars!--and then I know that I +have found the very soul of beauty! Oh! priceless pearl! By what rare +fortune was it that I ever found you in these Maryland woods? Love! +Angel! Marian! for that means all!" he exclaimed, in a sort of ecstasy, +straining her to his side. + +And Marian dropped her blushing face upon his shoulder--she was blushing +not from bashful love alone--with it mingled a feeling of shame, regret, +and mistrust, because he praised so much her form and face; because he +seemed to love her only for her superficial good looks. She would have +spoken if she could have done so; she would have told what was on her +heart as earnest as a prayer by saying: + +"Oh, do not think so much of this perishable, outward beauty; accident +may ruin it, sickness may injure it, time will certainly impair it. Do +not love me for that which I have no power over, and which may be taken +from me at any time--which I shall be sure to lose at last--love me for +something better and more lasting than that. I have a heart in this +bosom worth all the rest, a heart that in itself is an inner world--a +kingdom worthy of your rule--a heart that neither time, fortune, nor +casualty can ever change--a heart that loves you now in your strong and +beautiful youth, and will love you when you are old and gray, and when +you are one of the redeemed of heaven. Love me for this heart." + +But to have saved her own soul or his, Marian could not then have spoken +those words. + +So he continued to caress her--every moment growing more and more +enchanted with her loveliness. There was more of passion than affection +in his manner, and Marian felt and regretted this, though her feeling +was not a very clearly defined one--it was rather an instinct than a +thought, and it was latent, and quite subservient to her love for him. + +"Love! angel! how enchanting you are," he exclaimed, catching her in his +arms and pressing kisses on her cheek and lips and neck. + +Glowing with color, Marian strove to release herself. "Let me go--let us +leave this place, dear Thurston," she pleaded, attempting to rise. + +"Why? Why are you in such a hurry? Why do you wish to leave me?" he +asked, without releasing his hold. + +"It is late! Dear Thurston, it is late," she said, in vague alarm. + +"That does not matter--I am with you." + +"They will be anxious about me, pray let us go! They will be so +anxious!" she said, with increasing distress, trying to get away. +"Thurston! Thurston! You distress me beyond measure," she exclaimed in +great trouble. + +But he stopped her breath with kisses. + +Marian suddenly ceased to struggle, and by a strong effort of will she +became perfectly calm. And looking in his eyes, with her clear, steady +gaze, she said: + +"Thurston, I have ceased to strive. But if you are a man of honor, you +will release me." + +His arms dropped from around her as if he had been struck dead. + +Glad to be free, Marian arose to depart. Thurston sat still--his fine +countenance overclouded with mortification and anger. Marian hesitated; +she knew not how to proceed. He did not offer to rise and attend her. At +length she spoke. + +"Will you see me safely through the woods, Thurston?" + +He did not answer. + +"Thurston, it is nearly dark--there are several runaway negroes in the +forest now, and the road will not be safe for me." + +"Good-night, then," she said. + +"Good-night, Marian." + +She turned away and ascended the steps with her heart filled nearly to +bursting with grief, indignation and fear. That he should let her take +that long, dark, dangerous walk alone! it was incredible! she could +scarcely realize it, or believe it! Her unusually excited feelings lent +wings to her feet, and she walked swiftly for about a quarter of a mile, +and then was forced to pause and take breath. And then every feeling of +indignation and fear was lost in that of sorrow, that she had wounded +his feelings, and left him in anger. And Marian dropped her face into +her open hands and wept. A step breaking through the brushwood made her +start and tremble. She raised her head with the attitude of one prepared +for a spring and flight. It was so dark she could scarcely see her hands +before her, but as the step approached, a voice said: + +"Fear nothing, Marian, I have not lost sight of you since you left me," +and Thurston came up to her side. + +With a glad smile of surprise Marian turned to greet him, holding out +her hand, expecting him to draw it through his arm and lead her on. But +no, he would not touch her hand. Lifting his hat slightly, he said: + +"Go forward if you please to do so, Marian. I attend you." + +Marian went on, and he followed closely. They proceeded in silence for +some time. Now that she knew that he had not left her a moment alone in +the woods, she felt more deeply grieved at having so mortified and +offended him. At last she spoke: + +"Pray, do not be angry with me, dear Thurston." + +"I am not angry that I know of, fair one; and you do me too much honor +to care about my mood. Understand me once for all. I am not a Dr. +Grimshaw, in any phase of that gentleman's character. I am neither the +tyrant who will persecute you to exact your attention, nor yet the slave +who will follow and coax and whine and wheedle for your favor. In either +character I should despise myself too much," he answered, coolly. + +"Thurston, you are deeply displeased, or you would not speak so, and I +am very, very sorry," said Marian in a tremulous voice. + +"Do not distress yourself about me, fair saint! I shall trouble you no +more after this evening!" + +What did he mean? What could Thurston mean? Trouble her no more after +this evening! She did not understand the words, but they went through +her bosom like a sword. She did not reply--she could not. She wished to +say: + +"Oh, Thurston, if you could read my heart--how singly it is devoted to +you--how its thoughts by day, and dreams by night are filled with +histories and images of what I would be, and do or suffer for you--of +how faithfully I mean to love and serve you in all our coming years--you +would not mistake me, and get angry, because you would know my heart." +But these words Marian could not have uttered had her life depended on +it. + +"Go on, Marian, the moor is no safer than the forest; I shall attend you +across it." + +And they went on until the light from Old Field Cottage was visible. +Then Marian said: + +"You had better leave me now. They are sitting up and watching for me." + +"No! go on, the night is very dark. I must see you to the gate." + +They walked rapidly, and just as they approached the house Marian saw a +little figure wandering about on the moor, and which suddenly sprang +toward her with an articulate cry of joy! It was Miriam, who threw +herself upon Marian with such earnestness of welcome that she did not +notice Thurston, who now raised his hat slightly from his head, with a +slight nod, and walked rapidly away. + +"Here she is, mother! Oh! here she is!" cried Miriam, pulling at +Marian's dress and drawing her in the house. + +"Oh! Marian, how anxious you have made us! Where have you been?" asked +Edith, in a tone half of love, half of vexation. + +"I have been detained," said Marian, in a low voice. + +The cottage room was very inviting. The evening was just chilly enough +to make the bright little wood fire agreeable. On the clean hearth +before it sat the tea-pot and a covered plate of toast waiting for +Marian. And old Jenny got up and sat out a little stand, covered it with +a white napkin, and put the tea and toast, with the addition of a piece +of cold chicken and a saucer of preserves, upon it. And Marian laid off +her straw bonnet and muslin scarf and sat down and tried to eat, for +affectionate eyes had already noticed the trouble of her countenance, +and were watching her now with anxiety. + +"You do not seem to have an appetite, dear; what is the matter?" asked +Edith. + +"I am not very well," said Marian, rising and leaving the table, and +refraining with difficulty from bursting into tears. + +"It's dat ar cussed infunnelly party at Lockemup--last Toosday!" said +Jenny, as she cleared away the tea service--"a-screwin' up tight in +cusseds an' ball-dresses! an' a-dancing all night till broad daylight! +'sides heavin' of ever so much unwholesome 'fectionery trash down her +t'roat--de constitution ob de United States hisself couldn't stan' sich! +much less a delicy young gall! I 'vises ov you, honey, to go to bed." + +"Indeed, Marian, it was too much for you to lose your rest all night, +and then have to get up early to go to school. You should have had a +good sleep this morning. And then to be detained so late this evening. +Did you have to keep any of the girls in, or was it a visit from the +trustees that detained you?" + +"Neither," said Marian, nervously, "but I think I must take Jenny's +advice and go to bed." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THAT NIGHT. + + +From that miserable night, Marian saw no more of Thurston, except +occasionally at church, when he came at irregular intervals, and +maintained the same coolness and distance of manner toward her, and with +matchless self-command, too, since often his heart yearned toward her +with almost irresistible force. + +Cold and calm as was his exterior, he was suffering not less than +Marian; self-tossed with passion, the strong currents and +counter-currents of his soul whirled as a moral maelstrom, in which +both reason and conscience threatened to be engulfed. + +And in these mental conflicts judgment and understanding were often +obscured and bewildered, and the very boundaries of right and wrong +lost. + +His appreciation of Marian wavered with his moods. + +When very angry he would mentally denounce her as a cold, prudent, +calculating woman, who had entrapped him into a secret marriage, and +having secured his hand, would now risk nothing for his love, and +himself as a weak, fond fool, the tool of the beautiful, proud diplomat, +whom it would be justifiable to circumvent, to defeat, and to humble in +some way. + +At such times he felt a desire, amounting to a strong temptation, to +abduct her--to get her into his power, and make her feel that power. No +law could protect her or punish him--for they were married. + +But here was the extreme point at which reaction generally commenced, +for Thurston could not contemplate himself in that character--playing +such a part, for an instant. + +And then when a furtive glance would show him Marian's angel face, +fairer and paler and more pensive than ever before--a strong +counter-current of love and admiration approaching to worship, would set +in, and he would look upon her as a fair saint worthy of translation to +heaven, and upon himself as a designing but foiled conspirator, scarcely +one degree above the most atrocious villain. "Currents and +counter-currents" of stormy passion, where is the pilot that shall guide +the understanding safely through them? It is no wonder, that once in a +while, a mind is wrecked. + +Marian, sitting in her pew, saw nothing in his face or manner to +indicate that inward storm. She only saw the sullen, freezing exterior. +Even in his softened moods of penitence, Thurston dared not seek her +society. + +For Marian had begun to recover from the first abject prostration of her +sorrow, and her fair, resolute brow and sad, firm lips mutely assured +him that she never would consent to be his own until their marriage +could be proclaimed. + +And he durst not trust himself in her tempting presence, lest there +should be a renewal of those humiliating scenes he had endured. + +Thus passing a greater portion of the summer; during which Thurston +gradually dropped off from the church, and from all other haunts where +he was likely to encounter Marian, and as gradually began to frequent +the Catholic chapel, and to visit Luckenough, and to throw himself as +much as possible into the distracting company of the pretty elf +Jacquelina. But this--while it threw Dr. Grimshaw almost into frenzy, +did not help Thurston to forget the good and beautiful Marian. Indeed, +by contrast, it seemed to make her more excellent and lovely. + +And thus, while Jacquelina fancied she had a new admirer, Dr. Grimshaw +feared that he had a new rival, and the holy fathers hoped they had a +new convert--Thurston laughed at the vanity of the elf, the jealousy of +the Ogre, and the gullibility of the priests--and sought only escape +from the haunting memory of Marian, and found it not. And finally, bored +and ennuied beyond endurance, he cast about for a plan by which to +hasten his union with Marian. Perhaps it was only that neighborhood she +was afraid of, he thought--perhaps in some other place she would be less +scrupulous. Satan had no sooner whispered this thought to Thurston's ear +than he conceived the design of spending the ensuing autumn in Paris--and +of making Marian his companion while there. Fired with this new idea and +this new hope, he sat down and wrote her a few lines--without address or +signature--as follows: + +"Dearest, forgive all the past. I was mad and blind. I have a plan to +secure at once our happiness. Meet me in the Mossy dell this evening, +and let me explain it at your feet." + +Having written this note, Thurston scarcely knew how to get it at once +into Marian's hands. To put it into the village post-office was to +expose it to the prying eyes of Miss Nancy Skamp. To send it to Old +Fields, by a messenger, was still more hazardous. To slip it into +Marian's own hand, he would have to wait the whole week until +Sunday--and then might not be able to do so unobserved. + +Finally, after much thought, he determined, without admitting the elf +into his full confidence, to entrust the delivery of the note to +Jacquelina. + +He therefore copied it into the smallest space, rolled it up tightly, +and took it with him when he went to Luckenough. + +He spent the whole afternoon at the mansion house, without having an +opportunity to slip it into the hands of Jacquelina. + +It is true that Mrs. Waugh was not present, that good woman being in the +back parlor, sitting at one end of the sofa and making a pillow of her +lap for the commodore's head, which she combed soporifically, while, +stretched at full length, he took his afternoon nap. But Mary L'Oiseau +was there, quietly knotting a toilet cover, and Professor Grimshaw was +there, scowling behind a book that he was pretending to read, and losing +no word or look or tone or gesture of Thurston or Jacquelina, who talked +and laughed and flirted and jested, as if there was no one else in the +world but themselves. + +At last a little negro appeared at the door to summon Mrs. L'Oiseau to +give out supper, and Mary arose and left the room. + +The professor scowled at Jacquelina from the top of his book for a +little while, and then, muttering an excuse, got up and went out and +left them alone together. + +That was a very common trick of the doctor's lately, and no one could +imagine why he did it. + +"It is a ruse, a trap, the grim idiot! to see what we will say to each +other behind his back. Oh, I'd dose him! I just wish Thurston would kiss +me! I do so!" thought Jacquelina. "Thurston," and the elf leaned toward +her companion, and began to be as bewitching as she knew how. + +But Thurston was not thinking of Jacquelina's mischief, though without +intending it he played directly into her hands. + +Rising he took his hat, and saying that his witching little cousin had +beguiled him into breaking one engagement already, advanced to take +leave of her. + +"Jacquelina." he said, lowering his voice, and slipping the note for +Marian into her hand, "may I ask you to deliver this to Miss Mayfield, +when no one is by?" + +A look of surprise and perplexity, followed by a nod of intelligence, +was her answer. + +And Thurston, with a grateful smile, raised her hand to his lips, took +leave and departed. + +"I wonder what it is all about? I could easily untwist and seal it, but +I would not do so for a kingdom!" said Jacko to herself as she turned +the tiny note about in her fingers. + +"Hand me that note, madam!" said Dr. Grimshaw, in curt and husky tones, +as, with stern brow, he stood before her. + +"No, sir! it was not intended for you," she said, mockingly. + +"By the demons, I know that! Hand it here!" + +"Don't swear nor get angry! Both are unbecoming professor!" said the +elf, with mocking gravity. + +"Perdition! will you give it up?" stamped the doctor, in fury. + +"'Perdition,' no;" mocked the fairy. + +"Hand it here, I command you, madam!" cried the professor, trying to +compose himself and recover his dignity. + +"Command away--I like to hear you. Command a regiment, if you like!" +said the elf. + +"Give it up!" thundered the professor, losing his slight hold upon +self-control. + +"Couldn't do it, sir," said Jacko, gravely. + +"It is an appointment, you impudent ----! Hand it here." + +"Not as you know of!" laughed Jacko, tauntingly shaking it over her +head. + +He made a rush to catch it. + +She sprang nimbly away, and clapped the paper into her mouth. + +He overtook and caught her by the arm, and shaking her roughly, +exclaimed, under his breath: + +"Where is it? What have you done with it? You exasperating, unprincipled +little wretch, where is it?" + +"'Echo anfers fere?'" mumbled the imp, chewing up the paper, and keeping +her lips tight. + +"Give it me! give it me! or I'll be the death of you, you diabolical +little ----!" he exclaimed, hoarsely, shaking her as if he would have +shaken her breath out. + +But Jacko had finished chewing up the paper, and she swallowed the pulp +with an effort that nearly choked her, and then opening her mouth, and +inflating her chest, gave voice in a succession of piercing shrieks, +that brought the whole family rushing into the room, and obliged the +professor to relax his hold, and stand like a detected culprit. + +For there was the commodore roused up from his sleep, with his gray hair +and beard standing out all ways, like the picture of the sun in an +almanac. And there was Mrs. Waugh, with the great-tooth comb in her +hand. And Mary L'Osieau, with the pantry keys. And the maid, Maria, with +the wooden tray of flour on her head. And Festus, with a bag of meal in +his hands. And all with their eyes and ears and mouths agape with +amazement and inquiry. + +"In the fiend's name, what's the matter? What the d----l's broke loose? +Is the house on fire again?" vociferated the commodore, seeing that no +one else spoke; "what's all this about, Nace Grimshaw?" + +"Ask your pretty niece, sir!" said the professor, sternly, turning away. + +"Oh, it's you, is it, you little termagant you? Oh, you're a +honey-cooler. What have you been doing now, Imp?" cried the old man, +turning fiercely to Jacquelina. "Answer me, you little vixen!--what does +all this mean?" + +"Better ask 'the gentlemanly professor' why he seized and nearly shook +the head off my shoulders and the breath out of my bosom!" said +Jacquelina, half-crying, half-laughing. + +The commodore turned furiously toward Grim. Shaking a woman's head off +her shoulders, and breath out of her body, in his house, did not suit +his ideas of gallantry at all, rough as he was. + +"By heaven! are you mad, sir? What have you been doing? I never laid the +weight of my hand on Jacquelina in all my life, wild as she has driven +me at times. Explain your brutality, sir." + +"It was to force from her hand a paper which she has swallowed," said +Dr. Grimshaw, with stern coldness regarding the group. + +"Swallowed! swallowed!" shrieked Mrs. Waugh, rushing toward Jacquelina, +and seizing one of her arms, and gazing in her face, thinking only of +poisons and of Jacko's frequent threats of suicide. "Swallowed! +swallowed! Where did she get it? Who procured it for her? What was it? +Oh, run for the doctor, somebody. What are you all standing like you +were thunderstruck for? Dr. Grimshaw, start a boy on horseback +immediately for a physician. Tell him to tell the doctor to bring a +stomach pump with him. You had better go yourself. Oh, hasten; not a +single moment is to be lost. Jacquelina, my dear, do you begin to feel +sick? Do you feel a burning in your throat and stomach? Oh, my dear +child! how came you to do such a rash act?" + +Jacko broke into a loud laugh. + +"Oh! crazy! crazy! it is something that affects her brain she has taken. +Oh! Dr. Grimshaw, how can you have the heart to stand there and not go? +Probably opium." + +Jacko laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks--never, since her +marriage, had Jacko laughed so much. + +"Oh, Dr. Grimshaw! Don't you see she is getting worse and worse. How can +you have the heart to stand there and not go for a physician?" said Mrs. +Waugh, while Mary L'Oiseau looked on, mute with terror, and the +commodore stood with his fat eyes protruding nearly to bursting. + +"Go, oh, go, Dr. Grimshaw!" insisted Mrs. Waugh. + +"I assure you it is not necessary, madam," said the professor, with +stern scorn. + +"There is no danger, aunty. I haven't taken any poison since I took a +dose of Grim before the altar!" said Jacko, through her tears and +laughter. + +"What have you taken, then, unfortunate child?" + +"I have swallowed an assignation," said the elf, as grave as a judge. + +"A what?" exclaimed all, in a breath, + +"An assignation," repeated Jacko, with owl-like calmness and solemnity. + +"What in the name of common sense do you mean, my dear?" inquired Mrs. +Waugh, while the commodore and Mary L'Oiseau looked the astonishment +they did not speak. "Pray explain yourself, my love." + +"He--says--I--swallowed--an--assignation--whole!" repeated Jacquelina, +with distinct emphasis. Her auditors looked from one to another in +perplexity. + +"I see that I shall have to explain the disagreeable affair," said the +professor, coming forward, and addressing himself to the commodore. "Mr. +Thurston Willcoxen was here this afternoon on a visit to your niece, +sir. In taking leave he slipped into her hand a small note, which, when +I demanded, she refused to let me see." + +"And very properly, too. What right had you to make such a 'demand?'" +said Mrs. Waugh, indignantly. + +"I was not addressing my remarks to you, madam," retorted the professor. + +"That will not keep me from making a running commentary upon them, +however," responded the lady. + +"Hold your tongue, Henrietta. Go on, Nace. I swear you are enough to +drive a peaceable man mad between you," said the commodore, bringing his +stick down emphatically. "Well what next?" + +"On my attempting to take it from her she put it in her mouth and +swallowed it." + +"Yes! and then he seized me and shook me, as if I had been a +fine-bearing little plum tree in harvest time." + +"And served you right, I begin to think, you little limb, you. What was +it you had, you little hussy?" + +"An assignation, he says, and he ought to know--being a professor." + +"Don't mock us, Minx! Tell us instantly what were the contents of that +note?" + +"As if I would tell you even if I could. But I couldn't tell you even if +I would. Haven't the least idea what sort of a note it was, from a note +of music to a 'note of hand,' because I had to swallow it as I swallowed +the Ogre at the church--without looking at it. And it is just as +indigestible! I feel it like a bullet in my throat yet!" And that was +all the satisfaction they could get out of Jacko. + +"I should not wonder if you had been making a fool of yourself, Nace," +said the commodore, who seemed inclined to blow up both parties. + +"I hope, sir," said the professor, with great assumption of dignity, +"that you now see the necessity of forbidding that impertinent young +coxcomb the house." + +"Shall do nothing of the sort, Grim. Thurston has no more idea of +falling in love with little Jacko than he has with her mother or +Henrietta, not a bit more." And then the commodore happening to turn his +attention to the two gaping negroes, with a flourish of his stick sent +them about their business, and left the room. + +The next evening Thurston repaired to the mossy dell in the expectation +of seeing Marian, who, of course, did not make her appearance. + +The morning after, filled with disappointment and mortifying conjecture +as to the cause of her non-appearance, Thurston presented himself before +Jacquelina at Luckenough. He happened to find her alone. With all her +playfulness of character, the poor fairy had too much self-respect to +relate the scene to which she had been exposed the day before. So she +contented herself with saying: + +"I found no opportunity of delivering your note, Thurston, and so I +thought it best to destroy it." + +"I thank you. Under the circumstances that was best," replied the young +man, much relieved. When he reached home, he sat down and wrote a long +and eloquent epistle, imploring Marian's forgiveness for his rashness +and folly, assuring her of his continued love and admiration; speaking +of the impossibility of living longer without her society--informing her +of his intention to go to Paris, and proposing that she should either +precede or follow him thither, and join him in that city. It was her +duty, he urged, to follow her husband. + +The following Sunday, after church, Marian placed her answer in his +hands. The letter was characteristic of her--clear, firm, frank and +truthful. It concluded thus: + +"Were I to do as you desire me--leave home clandestinely, precede or +follow you to Paris and join you there, suspicion and calumny would +pursue me--obloquy would rest upon my memory. All these things I could +bear, were it necessary in a good cause; but here it is not necessary, +and would be wrong. But I speak not of myself--I ought not, indeed, to +do so--nor of Edith, whose head would be bowed in humiliation and +sorrow--nor of little Miriam, whose passionate heart would be half +broken by such a desertion. But I speak for the cause of morality and +religion here in this neighborhood, where we find ourselves placed by +heaven, and where we must exercise much influence for good or evil. Wait +patiently for those happy years, that the flying days are speeding on +toward us--those happy years, when you shall look back to this trying +time, and thank God for trials and temptations passed safely through. Do +not urge me again upon this subject. Be excellent, Thurston, be noble, +be god-like, as you can be, if you will; it is in you. Be true to your +highest ideal, and you will be all these. Oh! if you knew how your +Marian's heart craves to bow itself before true god-like excellence!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE INTERCEPTED LETTER. + + +"No! The mail isn't come yet! leastways it isn't opened yet! Fan that +fire, you little black imp, you! and make that kittle bile; if you +don't, I shall never git this wafer soft! and then I'll turn you up, and +give you sich a switching as ye never had in your born days! for I won't +be trampled on by you any longer! you little black willyan, you! 'Scat! +you hussy! get out o' my way, before I twist your neck for you!" + +The first part of this oration was delivered by Miss Nancy Skamp, to +some half-dozen negro grooms who were cooling their shins while waiting +for the mail, before she closed the doors and windows of the +post-office; the second part was addressed to Chizzle, her little negro +waiter--and the third concluding sentence, emphasized by a smart kick, +was bestowed upon poor Molly, the mottled cat. The village post-office +was kept in the lower front room of the little lonely house on the hill, +occupied by the solitary spinster. + +The mail-bags were stuffed remarkably full, and there were several +wonderful letters, that she felt it her duty to open and read before +sending to their owners. + +"Let's see," said the worthy postmistress, as she sorted the letters in +her hand. "What's this? oh! a double letter for Colonel Thornton--pshaw! +that's all about political stuff! Who cares about reading that? I don't! +He may have it to-night if he wants it! Stop! what's this? Lors! it's a +thribble letter for--for Marian Mayfield! And from furrin parts, too! +Now I wonder--(Can't you stop that caterwauling out there?" she said, +raising her voice. "Sposen you niggers were to wait till I open the +office. I reckon you'd get your letters just as soon.) Who can be +writing from furrin parts to Marian Mayfield? Ah! I'll keep this and +read it before Miss Marian gets it." + +When Miss Nancy had closed up for the night she took out the letter +directed to Marian, opened, and began to read it. And as she read her +eyes and mouth grew wider and wider with astonishment, and her wonder +broke forth in frequent exclamations of: "M--y conscience! Well now! +Who'd a dreamt of it! Pity but I'd a let Solomon court her when he +wanted to--but Lors! how did I ever know that she'd--M--y conscience!" +etc., etc. + +Her fit of abstraction was at last broken by a smart rap at the door. + +She started and turned pale, like the guilty creature that she was. + +The rap was repeated sharply. + +She jumped up, hustled the purloined letters and papers out of sight, +and stood waiting. + +The rap was reiterated loudly and authoritatively. + +"Who's that?" she asked, trembling violently. + +"It's me, Aunt Nancy! Do for goodness' sake don't keep a fellow out here +in the storm till he's nearly perished. It's coming on to hail and snow +like the last judgment!" + +"Oh! it's you, is it, Sol? I didn't know but what it was--Do, for +mercy's sake don't be talking about the last judgment, and such awful +things--I declare to man, you put me all of a trimble," said Miss Nancy, +by way of accounting for her palpitations, as she unbarred the door, and +admitted her learned nephew. Dr. Solomon Weismann seemed dreadfully +downhearted as he entered. He slowly stamped the snow from his boots, +shook it off his clothes, took off his hat and his overcoat, and hung +them up, and spoke--never a word! Then he drew his chair right up in +front of the fire, placed a foot on each andiron, stooped over, spread +his palms over the kindly blaze, and still spoke--never a word! + +"Well! I'd like to know what's the matter with you to-night," said Miss +Nancy, as she went about the room looking for her knitting. + +But the doctor stared silently at the fire. + +"It's the latest improvement in politeness--I shouldn't wonder--not to +answer your elders when they speak to you." + +"Were you saying anything to me, Aunt Nancy?" + +"'Was I saying anything to you, Aunt Nancy?' Yes I was! I was asking you +what's the matter?" + +"Oh! I never was so dreadfully low-spirited in my life, Aunt Nancy." + +"And what should a young man like you have to make him feel +low-spirited, I should like to know? Moping about Marian, I shouldn't +wonder. The girl is a good girl enough, if she'd only mind her own +business, and not let people spoil her. And if you do like her, and must +have her, why I shan't make no further objections." + +Here the young doctor turned shortly around and stared at his aunt in +astonishment! + +"Hem!" said Miss Nancy, looking confused, "well, yes, I did oppose it +once, certainly, but that was because you were both poor." + +"And we are both poor still, for aught that I can see, and likely to +continue so." + +"Hish-ish! no you're not! leastways, she's not. I've got something very +strange to tell you," said Miss Nancy, mysteriously drawing her chair up +close to her nephew, and putting her lips to his ear, and +whispering--"Hish-ish!" + +"'Hish-ish!' What are you 'hish-ish'ing for, Aunt Nancy, I'm not saying +anything, and your breath spins into a fellow's ear enough to give him +an ear-ache!" said Dr. Solomon, jerking his head away. + +"Now then listen--Marian Mayfield has got a fortune left to her." + +Miss Nancy paused to see the effect of this startling piece of news upon +her companion. + +But the doctor was not sulky, and upon his guard; so after an +involuntary slight start, he remained perfectly still. Miss Nancy was +disappointed by the calm way in which he took this marvelous revelation. +However, she went on to say: + +"Yes! a fortune left her, by a grand-uncle, a bachelor, who died +intestate in Wiltshire, England. Now, what do you think of that!" + +"Why, I think if she wouldn't have me when she was poor, she won't be +apt to do it now she's rich." + +"Ah! but you see, she don't know a word of it!" + +"How do you know it, then?" + +"Hish-ish! I'll tell you if you will never tell. Oh, Lord, no, you +mustn't indeed! You wouldn't, I know, 'cause it would ruin us! Listen--" + +"Now, Aunt Nancy, don't be letting me into any of your capital crimes +and hanging secrets--don't, because I don't want to hear them, and I +won't neither! I ain't used to such! and I'm afraid of them, too!" + +"'Fraid o' what? Nobody can prove it," answered Miss Nancy, a little +incoherently. + +"You know what better than I do, Aunt Nancy; and let me tell you, you'd +better be careful. The eyes of the community are upon you." + +"Let 'em prove it! Let 'em prove it! They ain't got no witnesses! +Chizzle and the cat ain't no witnesses," said Miss Nancy, obscurely; +"let 'em do their worse! I reckon I know something about law as well as +they do! if I am a lone 'oman!" + +"They can procure your removal from office without proving anything +against you except unpopularity." + +"That's Commodore Waugh's plan! the ugly, wicked, old buggaboo! 'Tain't +such great shakes of an office neither, the dear knows!" + +"Never mind, Aunt Nancy, mend your ways, and maybe they'll not disturb +you. And don't tell me any of your capital secrets, because I might be +summoned as a witness against you, which would not be so agreeable to my +feelings--yon understand! And now tell me, if you are absolutely certain +that Miss Mayfield has had that fortune left her. But stop! don't tell +me how you found it out!" + +"Well, yes, I am certain--sure, she has a great fortune left her. I have +the positive proofs of it. And, moreover, nobody in this country don't +know it but myself--and you. And now I tell you, don't hint the matter +to a soul. Be spry! dress yourself up jam! and go a courting before +anybody else finds it out!" + +"But that would scarcely be honorable either," demurred the doctor. + +"You're mighty particular! Yes, it would, too! Jest you listen to me! +Now if so be we were to go and publish about Marian's fortune, we'd have +a whole herd of fortune hunters, who don't care a cent for anything but +fortune, running after and worrying the life out of her, and maybe one +of them marrying of her, and spending of her money, and bringing of her +to poverty, and breaking of her heart. Whereas, if we keep the secret of +the estate to ourselves, you, who desarve her, because you 'counted her +all the same when she was poor, and who'd take good care of her +property, and her, too--would have her all to yourself, and nobody to +interfere. Don't you see?" + +"Well, to be sure--when one looks at the thing in this light," +deliberated the sorely-tempted lover. + +"Of course! And that's the only light to look at it in! Don't you see? +Why, by gracious! it seems to me as if we were doing Marian the greatest +favor." + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +AS A LAST RESORT. + + +In the meantime Marian's heart was weighed down by a new cause of sorrow +and anxiety. Thurston never approached her now, either in person or by +letter. She never saw him, except at the church, the lecture-room, or in +mixed companies, where he kept himself aloof from her and devoted +himself to the beautiful and accomplished heiress Angelica Le Roy, to +whom rumor gave him as an accepted suitor. + +So free was Marian's pure heart from jealousy or suspicion that these +attentions bestowed by Thurston, and these rumors circulated in the +neighborhood, gave her no uneasiness. For though she had, for herself, +discovered him to be passionate and impetuous, she believed him to be +sound in principle. But when again and again she saw them together, at +church, at lecture, at dinner parties, at evening dances; when at all +the Christmas and New Year festivities she saw her escorted by him; when +she saw him ever at her side with a devotion as earnest and ardent as it +was perfectly respectful; when she saw him bend and whisper to the +witching girl and hang delighted on her "low replies," her own +confidence was shaken. What could he mean? Was it possible that instead +of being merely impulsive and erring, he was deliberately wicked? No, +no, never! Yet, what could be his intentions? Did he really wish to win +Angelica's heart? Alas! whether he wished so or not, it was but too +evident to all that he had gained her preference. In her blushing cheek +and downcast eyes, and tremulous voice and embarrassed manner, when he +was present, in her abstracted mind, and restless air of wandering +glances when he was absent, the truth was but too clear. + +Marian was far too practical to speculate when she should act. It was +clearly her duty to speak to Thurston on the subject, and, repugnant as +the task was, she resolved to perform it. It was some time before she +had the opportunity. + +But at last, one afternoon in February, she chanced to meet Thurston on +the sea beach. After greeting him, she candidly opened the subject. She +spoke gently and delicately, but firmly and plainly--more so, perhaps, +than another woman in the same position would have done, for Marian was +eminently frank and fearless, especially where conscience was concerned. + + +And Thurston met her arguments with a graceful nonchalance, as seemingly +polite and good-humored as it was really ironical and insulting. + +Marian gave him time--she was patient as firm--and firm as sorrowful. +And until every argument and persuasion had failed, she said: + +"As a last resort, it may be necessary for me to warn Miss Le Roy--not +for my own sake. Were I alone involved, you know how much I would endure +rather than grieve you. But this young lady must not suffer wrong." + +"You will write her an anonymous letter, possibly?" + +"No--I never take an indirect road to an object." + +"What, then, can you do, fair saint?" + +"See Miss Le Roy, personally." + +"Ha! ha! ha! What apology could you possibly make for such an +unwarrantable interference?" + +"The Lord knoweth! I do not now. But I trust to be able to save her +without--revealing you." + +"Do you imagine that vague warnings would have any effect upon her?" + +"Coming from me they would." + +"Heavens! What a self-worshiper! But selfishness is your normal state, +Marian! Self-love is your only affection--self-adulation your only +enthusiasm--self-worship your only religion! You do not desire to be +loved--you wish only to be honored! The love I offered you, you trampled +underfoot! You have no heart, you have only a brain! You cannot love, +you only think! Nor have you any need of love, but only of power! +Applause is your vital breath, your native air! To hear your name and +praise on every tongue--that is your highest ambition! Such a woman +should be a gorgon of ugliness that men might not waste their hearts' +wealth upon her!" exclaimed Thurston, bitterly, gazing with murky eyes, +that smoldered with suppressed passion, upon the beautiful girl before +him. + +Marian was standing with her eyes fixed abstractedly upon a distant +sail. Now the tears swelled under the large white eyelids and hung +glittering on the level lashes, and her lip quivered and her voice +faltered slightly as she answered: + +"You see me through a false medium, dear Thurston, but the time will +come when you will know me as I am." + +"I fancy the time has come. It has also come for me to enlighten you a +little. And in the first place, fair queen of minds, if not of hearts, +let me assure you that there is a limit even to your almost universal +influence. And that limit may be found in Miss Le Roy. You, who know the +power of thought only, cannot weigh nor measure the power of love. Upon +Miss Le Roy your warnings would have no effect whatever. I tell you that +in the face of them (were I so disposed), I might lead that girl to the +altar to-morrow." + +Marian was silent, not deeming an answer called for. + +"And now, I ask you, how you could prevent it?" + +"I shall not be required to prevent such an act, Thurston, as such a one +never can take place. You speak so only to try your Marian's faith or +temper--both are proof against jests, I think. Hitherto you have trifled +with the young lady's affections for mere _ennui_ and thoughtlessness, I +do believe! but, now that some of the evil consequences have been +suggested to your mind, you will abandon such perilous pastime. You are +going to France soon--that will be a favorable opportunity of breaking +off the acquaintance." + +"And breaking her heart--who knows? But suppose now that I should prefer +to marry her and take her with me?" + +"Nay, of course, I cannot for an instant suppose such a thing." + +"But in spite of all your warnings, were such an event about to take +place?" + +"In such an exigency I should divulge our marriage." + +"You would?" + +"Assuredly! How can you possibly doubt it? Such an event would abrogate +my obligations to silence, and would impose upon me the opposite duty of +speaking." + +"I judged you would reason so," he said, bitterly. + +"But, dear Thurston, of what are you talking? Of the event of your doing +an unprincipled act! Impossible, dear Thurston! and forever impossible!" + +"And equally impossible, fair saint, that you should divulge our +marriage with any chance of proving it. Marian, the minister that +married us has sailed as a missionary to Farther India. And I only have +the certificate of our marriage. You cannot prove it." + +"I shall not need to prove it, Thurston. Now that I have awakened your +thoughts, I know that you will not further risk the peace of that +confiding girl. Come! take my hand and let us return. We must hasten, +too, for there is rain in that cloud." + +Thurston--piqued that he could not trouble her more--for under her calm +and unruffled face he could not see the bleeding heart--arose sullenly, +drew her hand within his arm and led her forth. + +And as they went the wind arose, and the storm clouds drove over the sky +and lowered and darkened around them. + +Marian urged him to walk fast on account of the approaching tempest, and +the anxiety the family at the cottage would feel upon her account. + +They hurried onward, but just as they reached the neighborhood of Old +Fields a terrible storm of hail and snow burst upon the earth. + +It was as much as they could do to make any progress forward, or even to +keep themselves upon their feet. While struggling and plunging blindly +through the storm, amid the rushing of the wind and the rattling of the +hail, and the crackling and creaking of the dry trees in the forest, and +the rush of waters, and all the din of the tempest, Marian's ear caught +the sound of a child wailing and sobbing. A pang shot through her heart. +She listened breathlessly--and then in the pauses of the storm she heard +a child crying, "Marian, Marian! Oh! where are you, Marian?" + +It was Miriam's voice! It was Miriam wandering in night and storm in +search of her beloved nurse. + +Marian dropped Thurston's arm and plunged blindly forward through the +snow, in the direction of the voice, crying, "Here I am, my darling, my +treasure--here I am. What brought my baby out this bitter night?" she +asked, as she found the child half perishing with cold and wet, and +caught and strained her to her bosom. + +"Oh, the hail and snow came down so fast, and the wind shook the house +so hard, and I could not sleep in the warm bed while you were out in the +storm. So I stole softly down to find you. Don't go again, Marian. I +love you so--oh! I love you so!" + +At this moment the child caught sight of Thurston standing with his face +half muffled in his cloak. A figure to be strangely recognized under +similar circumstances in after years. Then she did not know him, but +inquired: + +"Who is that, Marian?" + +"A friend, dear, who came home with me. Good-night, sir." + +And so dismissing Thurston, he walked rapidly away. She hurried with +Miriam to the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +ONE OF SANS SOUCI'S TRICKS. + + +Sans Souci stood before the parlor mirror, gazing into it, seeing--not +the reflected image of her own elfish figure, or pretty, witching face, +with its round, polished forehead, its mocking eyes, its sunny, dancing +curls, its piquant little nose, or petulant little lips--but +contemplating, as through a magic glass, far down the vista of her +childhood--childhood scarcely past, yet in its strong contrast to the +present, seeming so distant, dim, and unreal, that her reminiscence of +its days resembled more a vague dream of a pre-existence, than a +rational recollection of a part of her actual life on earth. Poor Jacko +was wondering "If I be I?" + +Grim sat in a leathern chair, at the farthest extremity of the room, +occupied with holding a book, but reading Jacquelina. Suddenly he broke +into her brown study by exclaiming: + +"I should like to know what you are doing, and how long you intend to +remain standing before that glass." + +"Oh, indeed! should you?" mocked Jacko, startled out of her reverie, yet +instantly remembering to be provoking. + +"What were you doing, and--" + +"Looking at myself in the glass, to be sure." + +"Don't cut off my question, if you please. I was going on to inquire of +what you were thinking so profoundly. And madam, or miss--" + +"Madam, if you please! the dear knows, I paid heavy enough for my new +dignity, and don't intend to abate one degree of it. So if you call me +miss again, I'll get some one who loves me to call you 'out!' Besides, +I'd have you to know, I'm very proud of it. Ain't you, too? Say, Grim! +ain't you a proud and happy man to be married?" asked Jacko, tauntingly. + +"You jibe! You do so with a purpose. But it shall not avail you. I +demand to know the subject of your thoughts as you stood before that +mirror." + +Now, none but a half madman like Grim would have gravely made such a +demand, or exposed himself to such a rebuff as it deserved. Jacko looked +at him quizzically. + +"Hem!" she answered, demurely. "I'm sure I'm so awestricken, your +worship, that I can scarcely find the use of my tongue to obey your +reverence. I hope your excellency won't be offended with me. But I was +wondering in general, whether the Lord really did make all the people +upon earth, and in particular, whether He made you, and if so, for what +inscrutable reason He did it." + +"You are an impertinent minion. But, by the saints, I will have an +answer to my question, and know what you were thinking of while gazing +in that mirror." + +"Sorry the first explanation didn't please your eminence. But now, +'honor bright!' I'll tell you truly what I was thinking of. I was +thinking--thinking how excessively pretty I am. Now, tell the truth, and +shame the old gentleman. Did you ever, in all your life, see such a +beautiful, bewitching, tantalizing, ensnaring face as mine is?" + +"I think I never saw such a fool!" + +"Really? Then your holiness never looked at yourself in a mirror! never +beheld 'your natural face in a glass!' never saw 'what manner of man' +you are." + +"By St. Peter! I will not be insulted, and dishonored, and defied in +this outrageous manner. I swear I will have your thoughts, if I have to +pluck them from your heart." + +"Whe-ew! Well, if I didn't always think thought was free, may I never be +an interesting young widow, and captivate Thurston Willcoxen." + +"You impudent, audacious, abandoned--" + +"Ching a ring a ring chum choo! And a hio ring tum larky!" + +sang the elf, dancing about, seizing the bellows and flourishing it over +her head like a tambourine, as she danced. + +"Be still, you termagant. Be still, you lunatic, or I'll have you put in +a strait-jacket!" cried the exasperated professor. + +"Poor fellow!" said Jacko, dropping the bellows and sidling up to him in +a wheedling, mock-sympathetic manner. "P-o-o-r f-e-l-l-o-w! don't get +excited and go into the highstrikes. You can't help it if you're ugly +and repulsive as Time in the Primer, any more than Thurston Willcoxen +can help being handsome and attractive as Magnus Apollo." + +"It was of him, then, you were thinking, minion? I knew it! I knew it!" +exclaimed the professor, starting up, throwing down his book, and pacing +the floor. + +"Bear it like a man!" said Jacko, with solemnity. + +"You admit it, then. You--you--you--" + +"'Unprincipled female.' There! I have helped you to the words. And now, +if you will be melo-dramatic, you should grip up your hair with both +hands, and stride up and down the floor and vociferate, 'Confusion! +distraction! perdition! or any other awful words you can think of. +That's the way they do it in the plays." + +"Madam, your impertinence is growing beyond sufferance. I cannot endure +it." + +"That's a mighty great pity, now, for you can't cure it." + +"St. Mary! I will bear this no longer." + +"Then I'm afraid you'll have to emigrate!" + +"I'll commit suicide." + +"That's you! Do! I should like very well to wear bombazine this cold +weather. Please do it at once, too, if you're going to, for I should +rather be out of deep mourning by midsummer!" + +"By heaven, I will pay you for this." + +"Any time at your convenience, Dr. Grimshaw! And I shall be ready to +give you a receipt in full upon the spot!" said the elf, rising. +"Anything else in my line this morning, Dr. Grimshaw? Give me a call +when you come my way! I shall be much obliged for your patronage," she +continued, curtseying and dancing off toward the door. "By the way, my +dear sir, there is a lecture to be delivered this evening by our gifted +young fellow-citizen, Mr. Thurston Willcoxen. Going to hear him? I am! +Good-day!" she said, and kissed her hand and vanished. + +Grim was going crazy! Everybody said it, and what everybody says has +ever been universally received as indisputable testimony. Many people, +indeed, averred that Grim never had been quite right--that he always had +been queer, and that since his mad marriage with that flighty bit of a +child, Jacquelina, he had been queerer than ever. + +He would have been glad to prevent Jacquelina from going to the lecture +upon the evening in question; but there was no reasonable excuse for +doing so. Everybody went to the lectures, which were very popular. Mrs. +Waugh made a point of being punctually present at every one. And she +took charge of Jacquelina, whenever the whim of the latter induced her +to go, which was as often as she secretly wished to "annoy Grim." And, +in fact, "to plague the Ogre" was her only motive in being present, for, +truth to tell, the elf cared very little either for the lecturer or his +subjects, and usually spent the whole evening in yawning behind her +pocket handkerchief. Upon this evening, however, the lecture fixed even +the flighty fancy of Jacquelina, as she sat upon the front seat between +Mrs. Waugh and Dr. Grimshaw. + +Jacquelina was magnetized, and scarcely took her eyes from the speaker +during the whole of the discourse. Mrs. Waugh was also too much +interested to notice her companions. Grim was agonized. The result of +the whole of which was--that after they all got home, Dr. Grimshaw--to +use a common but graphic phrase--"put his foot down" upon the resolution +to prevent Jacquelina's future attendance at the lectures. Whether he +would have succeeded in keeping her away is very doubtful, had not a +remarkably inclement season of weather set in, and lasted a fortnight, +leaving the roads nearly impassable for two other weeks. And just as +traveling was getting to be possible, Thurston Willcoxen was called to +Baltimore, on his grandfather's business, and was absent a fortnight. +So, altogether, six weeks had passed without Jacquelina's finding an +opportunity to defy Dr. Grimshaw by attending the lectures against his +consent. + +At the end of that time, on Sunday morning, it was announced in the +church that Mr. Willcoxen having returned to the county, would resume +his lectures on the Wednesday evening following. Dr. Grimshaw looked at +Jacquelina, to note how she would receive this news. Poor Jacko had been +under Marian's good influences for the week previous, and was, in her +fitful and uncertain way, "trying to be good." "As an experiment to +please you, Marian," she said, "and to see how it will answer." Poor +elf! So she called up no false, provoking smile of joy, to drive Grim +frantic, but heard the news of Thurston's arrival with the outward +calmness that was perfectly true to the perfect inward indifference. + +"She has grown guarded--that is a very bad sign--I shall watch her +closer," muttered Grim behind his closed teeth. And when the professor +went home that day, his keen, pallid face was frightful to look upon. +And many were the comments made by the dispersing congregation. + +From that Sunday to the following Wednesday, not one word was spoken of +Thurston Willcoxen or his lecture. But on Wednesday morning Dr. Grimshaw +entered the parlor, where Jacquelina lingered alone, gazing out of the +window, and going up to her side, astonished her beyond measure by +speaking in a calm, kind tone, and saying: + +"Jacquelina, you have been too much confined to the house lately. You +are languid. You must go out more. Mr. Willcoxen lectures this evening. +Perhaps you would like to hear him. If so, I withdraw my former +prohibition, which was, perhaps, too harsh, and I beg you will follow +your own inclinations, if they lead you to go." + +You should have seen Jacko's eyes and eyebrows! the former were dilated +to their utmost capacity, while the latter were elevated to their +highest altitude. The professor's eyebrows were knotted together, and +his eyes sought the ground, as he continued: + +"I myself have an engagement at Leonardtown this afternoon, which will +detain me all night, and therefore shall not be able to escort you; but +Mrs. Waugh, who is going, will doubtless take you under her charge. +Would you like to go?" + +"I had already intended to go," replied Jacquelina, without relaxing a +muscle of her face. + +The professor nodded and left the room. + +Soon after, Jacquelina sought her aunty, whom she found in the pantry, +mixing mince-meat. + +"I say, aunty--" + +"Well, Lapwing?" + +"When Satan turns saint, suspicion is safe, is it not?" + +"What do you mean, Lapwing?" + +"Why, just now the professor came to me, politely apologized for his +late rudeness, and proposed that I should go with you to hear Mr. +Willcoxen's lecture, while he, the professor, goes to Leonardtown to +fulfill an engagement. I say, aunty, I sniff a plot, don't you?" + +"I don't know what to make of it, Lapwing. Are you going?" + +"Of course I am; I always intended to." + +No more was said at the time. + +Immediately after dinner Dr. Grimshaw ordered his horse, and saying that +he was going to Leonardtown and should not be back till the next day, +set forth. + +And after an early tea, Mrs. Waugh and Jacquelina set out in the family +sleigh. A swift run over the hard, frozen snow brought them to Old +Fields, where they stopped a moment to pick up Marian, and then shooting +forward at the same rate of speed, they reached the lecture-room in full +time. + +Jacquelina was perhaps the very least enchanted of all his hearers--she +was, in fact, an exception, and found the discourse so entirely +uninteresting that it was with difficulty she could refrain from yawning +in the face of the orator. Mrs. Waugh also, perhaps, was but half +mesmerized, for her eyes would cautiously wander from the lecturer's +pulpit to the side window on her right hand. At length she stooped and +whispered to Jacquelina: + +"Child, be cautious; Dr. Grimshaw is on the ground--I have seen his face +rise up to that lower pane of glass at the corner of that window, +several times. He must be crouched down on the outside." + +Jacquelina gave a little start of surprise--her face underwent many +phases of expression; she glanced furtively at the indicated window, and +there she saw a pale, wild face gleam for an instant against the glass, +and then drop. She nodded her head quickly, muttering: + +"Oh, I'll pay him!" + +"Don't child! don't do anything imprudent, for gracious' sake! That man +is crazy--any one can see he is!" + +"Oh, aunty, I'll be sure to pay him! He shan't be in my debt much +longer. Soft, aunty! Don't look toward the window again! Don't let him +perceive that we see him or suspect him--and then, you'll see what +you'll see. I have a counter plot." + +This last sentence was muttered to herself by Jacquelina, who thereupon +straightened herself up--looked the lecturer in the eyes--and gave her +undevoted attention to him during the rest of the evening. There was not +a more appreciating and admiring hearer in the room than Jacquelina +affected to be. Her face was radiant, her eyes starry, her cheeks +flushed, her pretty lips glowing breathlessly apart--her whole form +instinct with enthusiasm. Any one might have thought the little creature +bewitched. But the fascinating orator need not have flattered +himself--had he but known it--Jacquelina neither saw his face nor heard +his words; she was seeing pictures of Grim's bitter jealousy, +mortification and rage, as he beheld her from his covert; she was +rehearsing scenes of what she meant to do to him. And when at last she +forgot herself, and clapped her hand enthusiastically, it was not at the +glorious peroration of the orator--but at the perfection of her own +little plot! + +When the lecturer had finished, and as usual announced the subject and +the time of the next lecture, Jacquelina, instead of rising with the +mass of the audience, showed a disposition to retain her seat. + +"Come, my dear, I am going," said Mrs. Waugh. + +"Wait, aunty, I don't like to go in a crowd." + +Mrs. Waugh waited while the people pressed toward the outer doors. + +"I wonder whether the professor will wait and join us when we return +home?" said Mrs. Waugh. + +"We shall see," said Jacquelina. "I wish he may. I believe he will. I am +prepared for such an emergency." + +In the meantime, Thurston Willcoxen had descended from the platform, and +was shaking hands right and left with the few people who had lingered to +speak to him. Then he approached Mrs. Waugh's party, bowed, and +afterward shook hands with each member of it, only retaining Marian's +hand the fraction of a minute longest, and giving it an earnest pressure +in relinquishing it. Then he inquired after the health of the family at +Luckenough, commented upon the weather, the state of the crops, etc., +and with a valedictory bow withdrew, and followed the retreating crowd. + +"I think we can also go now," said Mrs. Waugh. + +"Yes," said Jacquelina, rising. + +Upon reaching the outside, they found old Oliver, with the sleigh drawn +up to receive them. Jacquelina looked all around, to see if she could +discover Thurston Willcoxen on the grounds; and not seeing him anywhere, +she persuaded herself that he must have hastened home. But she saw Dr. +Grimshaw, recognized him, and at the same time could but notice the +strong resemblance in form and manner that he bore to Thurston +Willcoxen, when it was too dark to notice the striking difference in +complexion and expression. Dr. Grimshaw approached her, keeping his +cloak partially lifted to his face, as if to defend it from the wind, +but probably to conceal it. Then the evil spirit entered Jacquelina, and +tempted her to sidle cautiously up to the professor, slip her arm +through his arm, and whisper: + +"Thurston! Come! Jump in the sleigh and go home with us. We shall have +such a nice time! Old Grim has gone to Leonardtown, and won't be home +till to-morrow!" + +"Has he, minion? By St. Judas! you are discovered now! I have now full +evidence of your turpitude. By all the saints! you shall answer for it +fearfully," said the professor, between his clenched teeth, as he closed +his arm upon Jacquelina's arm and dragged her toward the sleigh. + +"Ha! ha! ha! Oh! well, I don't care! If I mistook you for Thurston, it +is not the first mistake I ever made about you. I mistook you once +before for a man!" said Jacko, defiantly. + +He thrust her into the sleigh already occupied by Mrs. Waugh and Marian, +jumped in after her, and took the seat by her side. + +"Why, I thought that you set out for Leonardtown this afternoon, Dr. +Grimshaw!" said Mrs. Waugh, coldly. + +"You may have jumped to other conclusions equally false and dangerous, +madam!" + +"What do you mean, sir?" + +"I mean, madam, that in conniving at the perfidy of this unprincipled +girl, your niece, you imagined that you were safe. It was an error. You +are both discovered!" said the professor, doggedly. + +Henrietta was almost enraged. + +"Dr. Grimshaw," she said, "nothing but self-respect prevents me from +ordering you from this sleigh!" + +"I advise you to let self-respect, or any other motive you please, still +restrain you, madam. I remain here as the warden of this pretty +creature's person, until she is safely secured." + +"You will at least be kind enough to explain to us the causes of your +present words and actions, sir!" said Mrs. Waugh, severely. + +"Undoubtedly, madam! Having, as I judged, just reasons for doubting the +integrity of your niece, and more than suspecting her attachment to Mr. +Willcoxen, I was determined to test both. Therefore, instead of going to +Leonardtown, to be absent till to-morrow, I came here, posted myself at +a favorable point for observation, and took notes. While here, I saw +enough to convince me of Jacquelina's indiscretions. Afterward leaving +the spot with lacerated feelings I drew near her. She mistook me for her +lover, thrust her arm through mine, and said, 'Dear Thurston, come home +with me--'" + +"Oh! you shocking old fye-for-shame! I said no such thing! I said, +Thurston! Come! Jump in the sleigh and go home with us.'" + +"It makes little difference, madam! The meaning was the same. I will not +be responsible for a literal report. You are discovered." + +"What does that mean? If it means you have discovered that I mistook you +for Thurston Willcoxen, you ought to 'walk on thrones' the rest of your +life! You never got such a compliment before, and never will again!" + +"Aye! go on, madam! You and your conniving aunt--" + +"Dr. Grimshaw, if you dare to say or hint such impertinence to me again, +you shall leave your seat much more quickly than you took it," said Mrs. +Waugh. + +"We shall see, madam!" said the professor, and he lapsed into sullenness +for the remainder of the drive. + +But, oh! there was one in that sleigh upon whose heart the words of wild +Jacko had fallen with cruel weight-Marian! + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +PETTICOAT DISCIPLINE. + + +When the sulky sleighing party reached Luckenough they found Commodore +Waugh not only up and waiting, but in the highest state of +self-satisfaction, a blessing of which they received their full share of +benefit, for the old man, in the overflowing of his joy, had ordered an +oyster supper, which was now all ready to be served smoking hot to the +chilled and hungry sleigh-riders. + +"I wonder what's out now?" said Jacquelina, as she threw off her +wrappings, scattering them heedlessly on the chairs and floor of the +hall. "Some awful calamity has overtaken some of Uncle Nick's enemies. +Nothing on earth but that ever puts him into such a jolly humor. Now +we'll see! I wonder if it is a 'crowner's 'quest' case? Wish it was +Grim." + +Mrs. Henrietta blessed her stars for the good weather, without inquiring +very closely where it came from, as she conducted Marian to a bedroom +to lay off her bonnet and mantle. + +It was only at the foot of his own table, after ladling out and serving +around the stewed oysters "hot and hot," that the commodore, rubbing his +hands, and smiling until his great face was as grotesque as a +nutcracker's, announced that Miss Nancy Skamp was turned out of +office--yea, discrowned, unsceptred, dethroned, and that Harry Barnwell +reigned in her stead. The news had come in that evening's mail! All +present breathed more freely--all felt an inexpressible relief in +knowing that the post-office would henceforth be above suspicion, and +their letters and papers safe from, desecration. Only Marian said: + +"What will become of the poor old creature?" + +"By St. Judas Iscariot, that's her business." + +"No, indeed, I think it is ours; some provision should be made for her, +Commodore Waugh." + +"I'll recommend her to the trustees of the almshouse, Miss Mayfield." + +Marian thought it best not to pursue the subject then, but resolved to +embrace the first opportunity of appealing to the commodore's smothered +chivalry in behalf of a woman, old, poor, feeble, and friendless. + +During the supper Dr. Grimshaw sat up as stiff and solemn--Jacquelina +said--"as if he'd swallowed the poker and couldn't digest it." When they +rose from the table, and were about leaving the dining-room, Dr. +Grimshaw glided in a funereal manner to the side of the commodore, and +demanded a private interview with him. + +"Not to-night, Nace! Not to-night! I know by your looks what it is! It +is some new deviltry of Jacquelina's. That can wait! I'm as sleepy as a +whole cargo of opium! I would not stop to talk now to Paul Jones, if he +was to rise from the dead and visit me!" + +And the professor had to be content with that, for almost immediately +the family separated for the night. + +Marian, attended by the maid Maria, sought the chamber assigned to +herself. When she had changed her tight-fitting day-dress for a wrapper, +she dismissed the girl, locked the door behind her, and then drew her +chair up before the little fire, and fell into deep thought. Many causes +of anxiety pressed heavily upon Marian. That Thurston had repented his +hasty marriage with herself she had every reason to believe. + +She had confidently hoped that her explanation with Thurston would have +resulted in good--but, alas! it seemed to have had little effect. His +attentions to Miss Le Roy were still unremitted--the young lady's +partiality was too evident to all--and people already reported them to +be engaged. + +And now, as Marian sat by her little wood-fire in her chamber at +Luckenough, bitter, sorrowful questions, arose in her mind. Would he +persist in his present course? No, no, it could not be! This was +probably done only to pique herself; but then it was carried too far; it +was ruining the peace of a good, confiding girl. And Jacquelina--she had +evidently mistaken Dr. Grimshaw for Thurston, and addressed to him words +arguing a familiarity very improper, to say the least of it. Could he be +trifling with poor Jacquelina, too? Jacko's words when believing herself +addressing Thurston, certainly denoted some such "foregone conclusions." +Marian resolved to see Thurston once more--once more to expostulate with +him, if happily it might have some good effect. And having formed this +resolution, she knelt and offered up her evening prayers, and retired to +bed. + +The next day being Holy Thursday, there was, by order of the trustees, a +holiday at Miss Mayfield's school. And so Marian arose with the prospect +of spending the day with Jacquelina. When she descended to the +breakfast-room, what was her surprise to find Thurston Willcoxen, at +that early hour, the sole occupant of the room. He wore a green shooting +jacket, belted around his waist. He stood upon the hearth with his back +to the fire, his gun leaned against the corner of the mantle-piece, and +his game-bag dropped at his feet. Marian's heart bounded, and her cheek +and eye kindled when she saw him, and, for the instant, all her doubts +vanished--she could not believe that guilt lurked behind a countenance +so frank, noble and calm as his. He stepped forward to meet her, +extending his hand. She placed her own in it, saying: + +"I am very glad to see you this morning, dear Thurston, for I have +something to say to you which I hope you will take kindly from your +Marian, who has no dearer interest in the world than your welfare." + +"Marian, if it is anything relating to our old subject of dispute--Miss +Le Roy--let me warn you that I will hear nothing about it." + +"Thurston, the subjects of a neighborhood's gossip are always the very +last to hear it! You do not, perhaps, know that it is commonly reported +that you and Miss Le Roy are engaged to be married!" + +"And you give a ready ear and ready belief to such injurious slanders!" + +"No! Heaven knows that I do not! I will not say that my heart has not +been tortured--fully as much as your own would have been, dear +Thurston, had the case been reversed, and had I stooped to receive from +another such attentions as you have bestowed upon Miss Le Roy. But, upon +calm reflection, I fully believe that you could never give that young +lady my place in your heart, that having known and loved me--" + +Marian paused, but the soul rose like a day-star behind her beautiful +face, lighting serenely under her white eyelids, glowing softly on the +parted lips and blooming cheeks. + +"Ay! 'having known and loved me!' There again spoke the very enthusiasm +of self-worship! But how know you, Marian, that I do not find such +regnant superiority wearisome?--that I do not find it refreshing to sit +down quietly beside a lower, humbler nature, whose greatest faculty is +to love, whose greatest need to be loved!" + +"How do I know it? By knowing that higher nature of yours, which you now +ignore. Yet it is not of myself that I wish to speak, but of her. +Thurston, you pursue that girl for mere pastime, I am sure--with no +ulterior evil purpose, I am certain; yet, Thurston!" she said, +involuntarily pressing her hand tightly upon her own bosom, "I know how +a woman may love you, and that may be death or madness to Angelica, +which is only whim and amusement to you. And, Thurston, you must go no +further with this culpable trifling--you must promise me to see her no +more!" + +"'Must!' Upon my soul! you take state upon yourself, fair queen!" + +"Thurston, a higher authority than mine speaks by my lips--it is the +voice of Right! You will regard it. You will give me that promise!" + +"And if I do not--" + +"Oh! there is no time to argue with you longer--some one is coming--I +must be quick. It is two weeks, Thurston, since I first urged this upon +you; I have hesitated already too long, and now I tell you, though my +heart bleeds to say it, that unless you promise to see Angelica no more, +I will see and have an explanation with her to-morrow!" + +"You will!" + +"You can prevent it, dearest Thurston, by yourself doing what you know +to be right." + +"And if I do not?" + +"I will see Miss Le Roy, to-morrow!" + +"By heaven, then--" + +His words were suddenly cut short by the entrance of Mrs. Waugh. In an +instant his countenance changed, and taking up his bag of game, he went +to meet the smiling, good humored woman, saying with a gay laugh: + +"Good-morning, Mrs. Waugh! You see I have been shooting in the woods of +Luckenough this morning, and I could not leave the premises without +offering this tribute to their honored mistress." + +And Thurston gayly laid the trophy at her feet. + +"Hebe! will you please to see that a cup of hot coffee is sent up to +Mrs. L'Oiseau; she is unwell this morning, as I knew she would be, from +her excitement last night; or go with it yourself, Hebe! The presence of +the goddess of health at her bedside is surely needed." + +Marian left the room, and then Mrs. Waugh, turning to the young +gentleman, said: + +"Thurston, I am glad to have this opportunity of speaking to you, for I +have something very particular to say, which you must hear without +taking offense at your old aunty!" + +"Humph! I am in for petticoat discipline this morning, beyond a doubt," +thought the young man; but he only bowed, and placed a chair for Mrs. +Waugh. + +"I shall speak very plainly, Thurston." + +"Oh! by all means! As plainly as you please, Mrs. Waugh," said Thurston, +with an odd grimace; "I am growing accustomed to have ladies speak very +plainly to me." + +"Well! it won't do you any harm, Thurston. And now to the point! I told +you before, that you must not show any civility to Jacquelina. And now I +repeat it! And I warn you that if you do, you will cause some frightful +misfortune that you will have to repent all the days of your life--if it +be not fatal first of all to yourself. I do assure you that old Grimshaw +is mad with jealousy. He can no longer be held responsible for his +actions. And in short, you must see Jacquelina no more!" + +"Whe-ew! a second time this morning! Come! I'm getting up quite the +reputation of a lady-killer!" thought the young man. Then with a light +laugh, he looked up to Mrs. Waugh, and said: + +"My dear madam, do you take me for a man who would willingly disturb the +peace or honor of a family?" + +"Pshaw! By no means, my dear Thurston. Of course I know it's all the +most ridiculous nonsense!" + +"Well! By the patience of Job, I do think--" + +Again Thurston's words were suddenly cut short, by the entrance of--the +commodore, who planted his cane down with his usual emphatic force, and +said: + +"Oh, sir! You here! I am very glad of it! There is a little matter to be +discussed between you and me! Old Hen! leave us! vanish! evaporate!" + +Henrietta was well pleased to do so. And as she closed the door the +commodore turned to Thurston, and with another emphatic thump of his +cane, said: + +"Well, sir! a small craft is soon rigged, and a short speech soon made. +In two words, how dare you, sir! make love to Jacquelina?" + +"My dear uncle--" + +"By Neptune, sir; don't 'uncle' me. I ask you how you dared to make love +to my niece?" + +"Sir, you mistake, she made love to me." + +"You impudent, impertinent, unprincipled jackanape." + +"Come," said Thurston to himself, "I have got into a hornet's nest this +morning." + +"I shall take very good care, sir, to have Major Le Roy informed what +sort of a gentleman it is who is paying his addresses to his daughter." + +"Miss Le Roy will be likely to form a high opinion of me before this +week is out," said Thurston, laughing. + +"You--you--you graceless villain, you," cried the commodore in a +rage--"to think that I had such confidence in you, sir; defended you +upon all occasions, sir; refused to believe in your villainy, sir; +refused to close my doors against you, sir. Yes, sir; and should have +continued to do so, but for last night's affair." + +"Last night's affair! I protest, sir, I do not in the least understand +you?" + +"Oh! you don't. You don't understand that after the lecture last +evening, in leaving the place, Jacquelina thrust her arm through +yours--no; I mean through Grim's, mistaking him for you, and said--what +she never would have said, had there not been an understanding between +you." + +Thurston's face was now the picture of astonishment and perplexity. The +commodore seemed to mistake it for a look of consternation and detected +guilt, for he continued: + +"And now, sir, I suppose you understand what is to follow. Do you see +that door? It leads straight into the hall, which leads directly through +the front portal out into the lawn, and on to the highway--that is your +road, sir. Good-morning." + +And the commodore thumped down his stick and left the room--the image of +righteous indignation. + +Thurston nodded, smiled slightly, drew his tablets from his pocket, tore +a leaf out, took his pencil, laid the paper upon the corner of the +mantel-piece, wrote a few lines, folded the note, and concealed it in +his hand as the door opened, and admitted Mrs. Waugh, Marian and +Jacquelina. There was a telegraphic glance between the elder lady and +the young man. + +That of Mrs. Waugh said: + +"Do have pity on the fools, and go, Thurston." + +That of Thurston said: + +"I am going, Mrs. Waugh, and without laughing, if I can help it." + +Then he picked up his shooting cap, bowed to Jacquelina, shook hands +with Mrs. Waugh, and pressing Marian's palm, left within it the note +that he had written, took up his game bag and gun, and departed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +SANS SOUCI'S LAST FUN. + + +"The inconceivable idiots!" said Thurston, as he strode on through the +park of Luckenough, "to fancy that any one with eyes, heart and brain, +could possibly fall in love with the 'Will-o'-the-wisp' Jacquelina, or +worse, that giglet, Angelica; when he sees Marian! Marian, whose least +sunny tress is dearer to me than are all the living creatures in the +world besides. Marian, for whose possession I am now about to risk +everything, even her own esteem. Yet, she will forgive me; I will earn +her forgiveness by such devoted love." + +He hurried on until he reached an outer gate, through which old Oliver +was driving a cart loaded with wood. As if to disencumber himself, he +threw his game bag and valuable fowling piece to the old man, saying: + +"There, uncle; there's a present for you," and without waiting to hear +his thanks, hurried on, leaping hedges and ditches, until he came to the +spot where he had left his horse tied since the morning. Throwing +himself into his saddle, he put spurs to his horse, and galloped away +toward the village, nor drew rein until he reached a little tavern on +the water side. He threw his bridle to an hostler in waiting, and +hurrying in, demanded to be shown into a private room. The little parlor +was placed at his disposal. Here, for form's sake, he called for the +newspaper, cigars and a bottle of wine (none of which he discussed, +however), dismissed the attendant, and sat waiting. + +Presently the odor of tar, bilge water, tobacco and rum warned him that +his expected visitor was approaching. And an instant after the door was +opened, and a short, stout, dark man in a weather-proof jacket, duck +trousers, cow-hide shoes, and tarpaulin hat entered. + +"Well, Miles, I've been waiting for you here more than an hour," said +Thurston, impatiently. + +"Ay, ay, sir--all right. I've been cruising round, reconnoitering the +enemy's coast," replied the man, removing the quid of tobacco from his +mouth, and reluctantly casting it into the fire. + +"You are sure you know the spot?" + +"Ay, ay? sir--the beach just below the Old Fields farmhouse." + +"And south of the Pine Bluff." + +"Ay, ay, sir. I know the port--that ain't the head wind!" said Jack +Miles, pushing up the side of his hat, and scratching his head with a +look of doubt and hesitation. + +"What is, then, you blockhead?" asked Thurston, impatiently; "is your +hire insufficient?" + +"N-n-n--yes--I dunno! You see, cap'n, if I wer' cock sure, as that 'ere +little craft you want carried of wer' yourn." + +"Hush! don't talk so loud. You're not at sea in a gale, you fool. Well, +go on. Speak quickly and speak lower." + +"I wer' gwine to say, if so be I wer' sure you wer' the cap'n of her, +why then it should be plain sailing, with no fog around, and no breakers +ahead." + +"Well! I am, you fool. She is mine--my wife." + +"Well, but, cap'n," said the speaker, still hesitating, "if so be that's +the case, why don't she strike her colors to her rightful owner? Why +don't you take command in open daylight, with the drums a-beating, and +the flags a-flying? What must you board her like a pirate in this way +fur? I've been a-thinkin' on it, and I think it's dangerous steering +along this coast. You see it's all in a fog; I can't make out the land +nowhere, and I'm afraid I shall be on the rocks afore I knows it. You +see, cap'n, I never wer' in such a thick mist since I first went to sea. +No offense to you, cap'n!" + +"Oh, none in the world! No skillful pilot will risk his vessel in a fog. +But I have a certain golden telescope of magic powers. It enables you to +see clearly through the thickest mist, the darkest night that ever fell. +I will give it to you. In other words, I promised you five hundred +dollars for this job. Come, accomplish it to-night, and you shall have a +thousand. Is the mist lifting?" + +"I think it is, cap'n! I begin to see land." + +"Very well! now, is your memory as good as your sight? Do you recollect +the plan?" + +"Ay, ay, sir." + +"Just let me hear you go over it." + +"I'm to bring the vessel round, and lay to about a quarter of a mile o' +the coast. At dusk I'm to put off in a skiff and row to Pine Bluff, and +lay under its shadow till I hear your signal. Then I'm to put to shore +and take in the--the--" + +"The cargo." + +"Ay, ay, sir, the cargo." + +Leaving the two conspirators to improve and perfect their plot, we must +return to the breakfast parlor at Luckenough. The family were assembled +around the table. Dr. Grimshaw's dark, sombre and lowering looks, enough +to have spread a gloom over any circle, effectually banished +cheerfulness from the board. Marian had had no opportunity of reading +her note--she had slipped it into her pocket But as soon as breakfast +was over, amid the bustle of rising from the table, Marian withdrew to a +window and glanced over the lines. + +"My own dearest one, forgive my haste this morning. I regret the +necessity of leaving so abruptly. I earnestly implore you to see me once +more--upon the beach, near the Pine Bluffs, this evening at dusk. I have +something of the utmost importance to say to you." + +She hastily crumpled the note, and thrust it into her pocket just as +Jacquelina's quizzical face looked over her shoulder. + +"You're going to stay all day with me, Marian?" + +"Yes, love--that is, till after dinner. Then I shall have to beg of Mrs. +Waugh the use of the carriage to go home." + +"Well, then, I will ride with you, Marian, and return in the carriage." + +All the company, with the exception of Mrs. Waugh, Marian and +Jacquelina, had left the breakfast-room. + +Mrs. Waugh was locking her china closet, and when she had done, she took +her bunch of keys, and turning to Marian, said: + +"Hebe, dear, I want you to go with me and see poor old Cracked Nell. She +is staying in one of our quarters. I think she has not long to live, and +I want you to talk to her." + +"Now?" + +"Yes, dear, I am going to carry her some breakfast. So, come along, and +get your mantle," said the good woman, passing out through the door. + +Marian followed, drawing out her pocket handkerchief to tie over her +head; and as she did so, the note, unperceived by her, fluttered out, +and fell upon the carpet. + +Jacquelina impulsively darted upon it, picked it up, opened, and read +it. Had Jacquelina first paused to reflect, she would never have done +so. But when did the elf ever stop to think? As she read, her eyes began +to twinkle, and her feet to patter up and down, and her head to sway +from side to side, as if she could scarcely keep from singing and +dancing for glee. + +"Well, now, who'd a thought it! Thurston making love to Marian! And +keeping the courtship close, too, for fear of the old miser. Lord, but +look here! This was not right of me? Am I a pocket edition of Miss Nancy +Skamp! Forbid it, Titania, Queen of the Fairies! But I didn't steal +it--I found it! And I must, oh! must plague Grim a little with this! +Forgive me, Marian, but for the life and soul of me, I can't help +keeping this to plague Grim! You see, I promised to pay him when he +charged me with swallowing an assignation, and now if I don't pay him, +if I don't make him perspire till he faints, my name is not Mrs. +Professor Grimshaw! Let's see! What shall I do! Oh! Why, can't I pretend +to lose it, just as Marian lost it, and drop it where he'll find it? I +have it! Eureka!" soliloquized the dancing elf, as she placed her +handkerchief in the bottom of her pocket, and the note on top of it, and +passed on to the drawing-room to "bide her time." + +That soon came. She found the professor and the commodore standing in +the middle of the room, in an earnest conversation, which, however, +seemed near its close, for as she took her seat, the commodore said: + +"Very well--I'll attend to it, Nace," and clapped his hat upon his head, +and went out, while the professor dropped himself into a chair, and took +up a book. + +"Oh, stop, I want to speak to you a minute, uncle." cried Jacquelina, +starting up and flying after him, and as she flew, pulling out her +handkerchief and letting the note drop upon the floor. A swift, sly, +backward glance showed that Grim had pounced upon it like a panther on +its prey. + +"What in the d----l's name are you running after me for?" burst forth +the old man as Jacko overtook him. + +"Why, uncle, I want to know if you'll please to give orders in the +stable to have the carriage wheels washed off nicely? They neglect it. +And I and Marian want to use it this afternoon." + +"Go to the deuce! Is that my business?" + +Jacquelina laughed; and, quivering through every fibre of her frame with +mischief, went back into the drawing-room to see the state of Grim. + +To Jacquelina's surprise she found the note lying upon the same spot +where she had dropped it. Dr. Grimshaw was standing with his back toward +her, looking out of the window. She could not see the expression of his +countenance. She stooped and picked up the note, but had scarcely +replaced it in her pocket before Dr. Grimshaw abruptly turned, walked up +and stood before her and looked in her face. Jacquelina could scarcely +suppress a scream; it was as if a ghost had come before her, so blanched +was his color, so ghastly his features. An instant he gazed into her +eyes, and then passed out and went up-stairs. Jacquelina turned slowly +around, looking after him like one magnetized. Then recovering herself, +with a deep breath she said: + +"Now I ask of all the 'powers that be' generally, what's the meaning of +that? He picked up the note and he read it; that's certain. And he +dropped it there again to make me believe he had never seen it; that's +certain, too. I wonder what he means to do! There'll be fun of some +sort, anyway! Stop! here comes Marian from the quarters. I shouldn't +wonder if she has missed her note, and hurried back in search of it. +Come! I'll take a hint from Grim, and drop it where I found it, and say +nothing." + +And so soliloquizing, the fairy glided back into the breakfast-room, let +the note fall, and turned away just in time to allow Marian to enter, +glance around, and pick up her lost treasure. Then joining Marian, she +invited her up-stairs to look at some new finery just come from the city. + +The forenoon passed heavily at Luckenough. When the dinner hour +approached, and the family collected in the dining-room, Dr. Grimshaw +was missing; and when a messenger was sent to call him to dinner, an +answer was returned that the professor was unwell, and preferred to keep +his room. + +Jacquelina was quivering between fun and fear--vague, unaccountable +fear, that hung over her like a cloud, darkening her bright frolic +spirit with a woeful presentiment. + +After dinner Marian asked for the carriage, and Mrs. Waugh gave orders +that it should be brought around for her use. Jacquelina prepared to +accompany Marian home, and in an hour they were ready, and set forth. + +"You may tell Grim, if he asks after me, that I am gone home with Marian +to Old Fields, and that I am not certain whether I shall return to-night +or not," said Jacquelina, as she took leave of Mrs. Waugh. + +"My dear Lapwing, if you love your old aunty, come immediately back in +the carriage. And, by the way, my dear, I wish you would, either in +going or coming, take the post-office, and get the letters and papers," +said Mrs. Waugh. + +"Let it be in going, then, Mrs. Waugh, for I have not been to the +post-office for two days, and there may be something there for us also," +said Marian. + +"Very well, bright Hebe; as you please, of course," replied good +Henrietta. + +And so they parted. Did either dream how many suns would rise and set, +how many seasons come and go, how many years roll by, before the two +should meet again? + +The carriage was driven rapidly on to the village, and drawn up at the +post-office. Old Oliver jumped down, and went in to make the necessary +inquiries. They waited impatiently until he reappeared, bringing one +large letter. There was nothing for Luckenough. + +The great double letter was for Marian. She took it, and as the carriage +was started again, and drawn toward Old Fields, she examined the +post-mark and superscription. It was a foreign letter, mailed from +London, and superscribed in the handwriting of her oldest living friend, +the pastor who had attended her brother in his prison and at the scene +of his death. + +Marian, with tearful eyes and eager hands, broke the seal and read, +while Jacquelina watched her. For more than half an hour Jacko watched +her, and then impatience overcame discretion in the bosom of the fairy, +and she suddenly exclaimed: + +"Well, Marian! I do wonder what can ail you? You grow pale, and then you +grow red; your bosom heaves, the tears come in your eyes, you clasp your +hands tightly together as in prayer, then you smile and raise your eyes +as in thanksgiving! Now, I do wonder what it all means?" + +"It means, dear Jacquelina, that I am the most grateful creature upon +the face of the earth, just now; and to-morrow I will tell you why I am +so," said Marian, with a rosy smile. And well she might be most grateful +and most happy, for that letter had brought her assurance of fortune +beyond her greatest desires. On reading the news, her very first thought +had been of Thurston. Now the great objection of the miser to their +marriage would be removed--the great obstacle to their immediate union +overcome. Thurston would be delivered from temptation; she would be +saved anxiety and suspense. "Yes; I will meet him this evening; I cannot +keep this blessed news from him a day longer than necessary, for this +fortune that has come to me will all be his own! Oh, how rejoiced I am +to be the means of enriching him! How much good we can both do!" + +These were the tumultuous, generous thoughts that sent the flush to +Marian's cheeks, the smiles to her lips, and the tears to her eyes; that +caused those white fingers to clasp, and those clear eyes to rise to +Heaven in thankfulness, as she folded up her treasured letter and placed +it in her bosom. + +An hour's ride brought them to Old Field Cottage. The sun had not yet +set, but the sky was dark with clouds that threatened rain or snow; and +therefore Jacquelina only took time to jump out and speak to Edith, +shake hands with old Jenny, kiss Miriam, and bid adieu to Marian; and +then, saying that she believed she would hurry back on her aunty's +account, and that she was afraid she would not get to Luckenough before +ten o'clock, anyhow, she jumped into the carriage and drove off. + +And Marian, guarding her happy secret, entered the cottage to make +preparations for keeping her appointment with Thurston. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile, at Luckenough, Dr. Grimshaw kept his room until late in the +afternoon. Then, descending the stairs, and meeting the maid Maria, who +almost shrieked aloud at the ghastly face that confronted her, he asked: + +"Where is Mrs. Grimshaw?" + +"Lord, sir!" cried the girl, half paralyzed by the sound of his +sepulchral voice, "she's done gone home 'long o' Miss Marian." + +"When will she be back, do you know?" + +"Lord, sir!" cried Maria, shuddering, "I heerd her tell old Mis', how +she didn't think she'd be back to-night." + +"Ah!" said the unhappy man, in a hollow tone, that seemed to come from a +tomb, as he passed down. + +And Maria, glad to escape him, fled up-stairs, and never paused until +she had found refuge in Mrs. L'Oiseau's room. + +One hour after that, Professor Grimshaw, closely enveloped in an ample +cloak, left Luckenough, and took the road to the beach. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +NIGHT AND STORM. + + +The heavens were growing very dark; the wind was rising and driving +black clouds athwart the sky; the atmosphere was becoming piercingly +cold; the snow, that during the middle of the day had thawed, was +freezing hard. Yet Marian hurried fearlessly and gayly on over the +rugged and slippery stubble fields that lay between the cottage and the +beach. A rapid walk of fifteen minutes brought her down to the water's +edge. But it was now quite dark. Nothing could be more deserted, lonely +and desolate than the aspect of this place. From her feet the black +waters spread outward, till their utmost boundaries were lost among the +blacker vapors of the distant horizon. Afar off a sail, dimly seen or +guessed at, glided ghost-like through the shadows. Landward, the +boundaries of field and forest, hill and vale, were all blended, fused, +in murky obscurity. Heavenward, the lowering sky was darkened by wild, +scudding, black clouds, driven by the wind, through which the young moon +seemed plunging and hiding as in terror. The tide was coming in, and the +waves surged heavily with a deep moan upon the beach. Not a sound was +heard except the dull, monotonous moan of the sea, and the fitful, +hollow wail of the wind. The character of the scene was in the last +degree wild, dreary, gloomy and fearful. Not so, however, it seemed to +Marian, who, filled with happy, generous and tumultuous thoughts, was +scarcely conscious of the gathering darkness and the lowering storm, as +she walked up and down upon the beach, listening and waiting. She +wondered that Thurston had not been there ready to receive her; but this +thought gave her little uneasiness; it was nearly lost, as the storm and +darkness also were, in the brightness and gladness of her own loving, +generous emotions. There was no room in her heart for doubt or trouble. +If the thought of the morning's conversation and of Angelica entered her +mind, it was only to be soon dismissed with fair construction and +cheerful hope. And then she pictured to herself the surprise, the +pleasure of Thurston, when he should hear of the accession of fortune +which should set them both free to pursue their inclinations and plans +for their own happiness and for the benefit of others. And she sought in +her bosom if the letters were safe. Yes; there they were; she felt them. +Her happiness had seemed a dream without that proof of its reality. For +once she gave way to imagination, and allowed that magician to build +castles in the air at will. Thurston and herself must go to England +immediately to take possession of the estate; that was certain. Then +they must return. But ere that she would confide to him her darling +project; one that she had never breathed to any, because to have done so +would have been vain; one that she had longingly dreamed of, but never, +as now, hoped to realize. And Edith--she would make Edith so +comfortable! Edith should be again surrounded with the elegancies and +refinements of life. And Miriam--Miriam should have every advantage of +education that wealth could possibly secure for her, either in this +country or in Europe. If Edith would spare Miriam, the little girl +should go with her to England. But Thurston--above all, Thurston! A +heavy drop of rain struck Marian in the face, and, for an instant, woke +her from her blissful reverie. + +She looked up. Why did not Thurston come? The storm would soon burst +forth upon the earth; where was Thurston? Were he by her side there +would be nothing formidable in the storm, for he would shelter her with +his cloak and umbrella, as they should scud along over the fields to the +cottage, and reach the fireside before the rain could overtake them. +Where was he? What could detain him at such a time? She peered through +the darkness up and down the beach. To her accustomed eye, the features +of the landscape were dimly visible. That black form looming like a +shadowy giant before her was the headland of Pine Bluff, with its base +washed by the sullen waves. It was the only object that broke the dark, +dull monotony of the shore. She listened; the moan of the sea, the wail +of the wind, were blended in mournful chorus. It was the only sound that +broke the dreary silence of the hour. + +Hark! No; there was another sound. Amid the moaning and the wailing of +winds and waves, and the groaning of the coming storm, was heard the +regular fall of oars, soon followed by the slow, grating sound of a boat +pushed up upon the frozen strand. Marian paused and strained her eyes +through the darkness in the direction of the sound, but could see +nothing save the deeper, denser darkness around Pine Bluff. She turned, +and, under cover of the darkness, moved swiftly and silently from the +locality. The storm was coming on very fast. The rain was falling and +the wind rising and driving it into her face. She pulled her hood +closely about her face, and wrapped her shawl tightly about her as she +met the blast. + +Oh! where was Thurston, and why did he not come? She blamed herself for +having ventured out; yet could she have foreseen this? No; for she had +confidently trusted in his keeping his appointment. She had never known +him to fail before. What could have caused the failure now? Had he kept +his tryste they would now have been safely housed at Old Field Cottage. +Perhaps Thurston, seeing the clouds, had taken for granted that she +would not come, and he had therefore stayed away. Yet, no; she could not +for an instant entertain that thought. Well she knew that had a storm +risen, and raged as never a storm did before, Thurston, upon the bare +possibility of her presence there, would keep his appointment. No; +something beyond his control had delayed him. And, unless he should now +very soon appear, something very serious had happened to him. The storm +was increasing in violence; her shawl was already wet, and she resolved +to hurry home. + +She had just turned to go when the sound of a man's heavy, measured +footsteps, approaching from the opposite direction, fell upon her ear. +She looked up half in dread, and strained her eyes out into the +blackness of the night. It was too dark to see anything but the outline +of a man's figure wrapped in a large cloak, coming slowly on toward her. +As the man drew near she recognized the well-known figure, air and gait; +she had of the identity. She hastened to meet him, exclaiming in a low, +eager tone: + +"Thurston! dear Thurston!" + +The man paused, folded his cloak about him, drew up, and stood perfectly +still. + +Why did he not answer her? Why did he not speak to her? Why did he stand +so motionless, and look so strange? She could not have seen the +expression of his countenance, even if a flap of his cloak had not been +folded across his face; but his whole form shook as with an ague fit. + +"Thurston! dear Thurston!" she exclaimed once more, under her breath, as +she pressed toward him. + +But he suddenly stretched out his hand to repulse her, gasping, as it +were, breathlessly, "Not yet--not yet!" and again his whole frame shook +with an inward storm. What could be the reason of his strange behavior? +Oh, some misfortune had happened to him--that was evident! Would it were +only of a nature that her own good news might be able to cure. And it +might be so. Full of this thought, she was again pressing toward him, +when a violent flurry of rain and wind whistled before her and drove +into her face, concealing him from her view. When the sudden gust as +suddenly passed, she saw that he remained in the same spot, his breast +heaving, his whole form shaking. She could bear it no longer. She +started forward and put her arms around his neck, and dropped her head +upon his bosom, and whispered in suppressed tones: + +"Dearest Thurston, what is the matter? Tell me, for I love you more than +life!" + +The man clasped his left arm fiercely around her waist, lifted his right +hand, and, hissing sharply through his clenched teeth: + +"You have drawn on your own doom--die, wretched girl!" plunged a dagger +in her bosom, and pushed her from him. + +One sudden, piercing shriek, and she dropped at his feet, grasping at +the ground, and writhing in agony. Her soul seemed striving to recover +the shock, and recollect its faculties. She half arose upon her elbow, +supported her head upon her hand, and with her other hand drew the steel +out from her bosom, and laid it down. The blood followed, and with the +life-stream her strength flowed away. The hand that supported her head +suddenly dropped, and she fell back. The man had been standing over her, +speechless, motionless, breathless, like some wretched somnambulist, +suddenly awakened in the commission of a crime, and gazing in horror, +amazement, and unbelief upon the work of his sleep. + +Suddenly he dropped upon his knees by her side, put his arm under her +head and shoulders and raised her up; but her chin fell forward upon her +bosom, and her eyes fixed and glazed. He laid her down gently, groaning +in a tone of unspeakable anguish: + +"Miss Mayfield! My God! what have I done?" And with an awful cry, +between a shriek and a groan, the wretched man cast himself upon the +ground by the side of the fallen body. + +The storm was beating wildly upon the assassin and his victim; but the +one felt it no more than the other. At length the sound of footsteps was +heard approaching fast and near. In the very anguish of remorse the +instinct of self-preservation seized the wretched man, and he started up +and fled as from the face of the avenger of blood. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +THE STRUGGLE ENDED. + + +In the meantime Jacquelina had reached home sooner than she had +expected. It was just dark, and the rain was beginning to fall as she +sprang from the carriage and darted into the house. + +Mrs. Waugh met her in the hall, took her hand, and said: + +"Oh, my dear Lapwing! I'm so glad you have come back, bad as the weather +is; for indeed the professor gives me a great deal of anxiety, and if +you had stayed away to-night I could not have been answerable for the +consequences. There, now; hurry up-stairs and change your dress, and +come down to tea. It is all ready, and we have a pair of canvasback +ducks roasted." + +"Very well, aunty! But--is Grim in the house?" + +"I don't know, my love. You hurry." + +Jacquelina tripped up the stairs to her own room, which she found +lighted, warmed, and attended by her maid, Maria. She took off her +bonnet and mantle, and laid them aside, and began to smooth her hair, +dancing all the time, and quivering with suppressed laughter in +anticipation of her "fun." When she had arranged her dress, she went +down-stairs and passed into the dining-room, where the supper table was +set. + +"See if Nace Grimshaw is in his room, and if he is not, we will wait no +longer!" said the hungry commodore, thumping his heavy stick down upon +the floor. + +Festus sprang to do his bidding, and after an absence of a few minutes +returned with the information that the professor was not there. + +Jacquelina shrugged her shoulders, and shook with inward laughter. + +They all sat down, and amid the commodore's growls at Grim's irregular +hours, and Jacquelina's shrugs and smiles and sidelong glances and +ill-repressed laughter, the meal passed. And when it was over, the +commodore, leaning on Mrs. Waugh's arm, went to his own particular sofa +in the back parlor; Mrs. L'Oiseau remained, to superintend the clearing +away of the supper-table; and Jacquelina danced on to the front parlor, +where she found no one but the maid, who was mending the fire. + +"Say! did you see anything of the professor while I was gone?" she +inquired. + +"Lors, honey, I wish I hadn't! I knows how de thought of it will give me +'liriums nex' time I has a fever." + +"Why? What did he do? When was it?" + +"Why, chile, jes afore sundown, as I was a carryin' an armful of wood +up-stairs, for Miss Mary's room, I meets de 'fessor a comin' down. I +like to 'a' screamed! I like to 'a' let de wood drap! I like to 'a' +drapped right down myself! It made my heart beat in de back o' my +head--he look so awful, horrid gashly! Arter speakin' in a voice hollow +as an empty coffin, an' skeerin' me out'n my seventeen sensibles axin +arter you, he jes tuk hisself off summers, an' I ain't seen him sence." + +"What did he ask you? What did you tell him?" + +"He jes ax where you was. I telled him how you were gone home 'long o' +Miss Marian; he ax when you were comin' back; I telled him I believed +not till to-morrow mornin'; then his face turned all sorts of awful dark +colors, an' seemed like it crushed right in, an' he nodded and said +'Ah!' but it sounded jes like a hollow groan; and he tuk hisself off, +and I ain't seen him sence." + +The elf danced about the room, unable to restrain her glee. And the +longer Dr. Grimshaw remained away, the more excited she grew. She +skipped about like the very sprite of mischief, exclaiming to herself: + +"Oh, shan't we have fun presently! Oh, shan't we, though! The Grim +maniac! he has gone to detect me! And he'll break in upon Thurston and +Marian's interview. Won't there be an explosion! Oh, Jupiter! Oh, Puck! +Oh, Mercury! What fun--what delicious fun! Wr-r-r-r! I can scarcely +contain myself! Begone, Maria! Vanish! I want all the space in this room +to myself! Oh, fun alive! What a row there'll be! Me-thinks I hear the +din of battle! + +"Oh clanga a rang! a rang! clang! clash! Whoop!" + +sang the elf, springing and dancing, and spinning, and whirling, around +and around the room in the very ecstasy of mischief. Her dance was +brought to a sudden and an awful close. + +The hall door was thrown violently open, hurried and irregular steps +were heard approaching, the parlor door was pushed open, and Dr. +Grimshaw staggered forward and paused before her! + +Yes; her frolic was brought to an eternal end. She saw at a glance that +something fatal, irreparable, had happened. There was blood upon his +hands and wrist-bands! Oh, more--far more! There was the unmistakable +mark of Cain upon his writhen brow! Before now she had seen him look +pale and wild and haggard, and had known neither fear nor pity for him. +But now! An exhumed corpse galvanized into a horrid semblance of life +might look as he did--with just such sunken cheeks and ashen lips and +frozen eyes; with just such a collapsed and shuddering form; yet, +withal, could not have shown that terrific look of utter, incurable +despair! His fingers, talon-like in their horny paleness and rigidity, +clutched his breast, as if to tear some mortal anguish thence, and his +glassy eyes were fixed in unutterable reproach upon her face! Thrice he +essayed to speak, but a gurgling noise in his throat was the only +result. With a last great effort to articulate, the blood suddenly +filled his throat and gushed from his mouth! For a moment he sought to +stay the hemorrhage by pressing a handkerchief to his lips; but soon his +hand dropped powerless to his side; he reeled and fell upon the floor! + +Jacquelina gazed in horror on her work. + +And then her screams of terror filled the house! + +The family came rushing in. Foremost entered the commodore, shaking his +stick in a towering passion, and exclaiming at the top of his voice: + +"What the devil is all this? What's broke loose now? What are you +raising all this row for, you infernal little hurricane?" + +"Oh, uncle! aunty! mother! look--look!" exclaimed Jacquelina, wringing +her pale fingers, and pointing to the fallen man. + +The sight arrested all eyes. + +The miserable man lay over on his side, ghastly pale, and breathing +laboriously, every breath pumping out the life-blood, that had made a +little pool beside his face. + +Mrs. Waugh and Mary L'Oiseau hastened to stoop and raise the sufferer. +The commodore drew near, half stupefied, as he always was in a crisis. + +"What--what--what's all this? Who did it? How did it happen?" he asked, +with a look of dull amazement. + +"Give me a sofa cushion, Maria, to place under his head. Mary L'Oiseau, +hurry as fast as you can, and send a boy for Dr. Brightwell; tell him to +take the swiftest horse in the stable, and ride for life and death, and +bring the physician instantly, for Dr. Grimshaw is dying! Hurry!" + +"Dying? Eh! what did you say, Henrietta?" inquired the commodore, in a +sort of stupid, blind anxiety; for he was unable to comprehend what had +happened. + +"Speak to me, Henrietta! What is the matter? What ails Grim?" + +"He has ruptured an artery," said Mrs. Waugh, gravely, as she laid the +sufferer gently back upon the carpet and placed the sofa pillow under +his head. + +"Ruptured an artery? How did it happen? Grim! Nace! speak to me! How do +you feel? Oh, Heaven! he doesn't speak--he doesn't hear me! Oh, +Henrietta! he is very ill--he is very ill! He must be put to bed at +once, and the doctor sent for! Come here, Maria! Help me to lift your +young master," said the old man, waking up to anxiety. + +"Stay! The doctor has been sent for; but he must not be moved; it would +be fatal to him. Indeed, I fear that he is beyond human help," said +Henrietta, as she wiped the gushing stream from the lips of the dying +man. + +"Beyond human help! Eh! what? Nace! No! no! no! no! It can't be!" said +the old man, kneeling down, and bending over him in helpless trouble. + +"Attend Dr. Grimshaw, while I hurry out and see what can be done, +Mary," said Mrs. Waugh, resigning her charge, and then hastening from +the room. She soon returned, bringing with her such remedies as her +limited knowledge suggested. And she and Mary L'Oiseau applied them; but +in vain! Every effort for his relief seemed but to hasten his death. The +hemorrhage was subsiding; so also was his breath. "It is too late; he is +dying!" said Henrietta, solemnly. + +"Dying! No, no, Nace! Nace! speak to me! Nace! you're not dying! I've +lost more blood than that in my time! Nace! Nace! speak to your +old--speak, Nace!" cried the commodore, stooping down and raising the +sufferer in his arms, and gazing, half wildly, half stupidly, at the +congealing face. + +He continued thus for some moments, until Mrs. Waugh, putting her hand +upon his shoulder, said gravely and kindly: + +"Lay him down, Commodore Waugh; he is gone." + +"Gone! gone!" echoed the old man, in his imbecile distraction, and +dropped his gray head upon the corpse, and groaned aloud. + +Mrs. Waugh came and laid her hand affectionately on his shoulder. He +looked up in such hopeless, helpless trouble, and cried out: + +"Oh, Henrietta! he was my son--my only, only son! My poor, unowned boy! +Oh, Henrietta! is he dead? Are you sure? Is he quite gone?" + +"He is gone, Commodore Waugh; lay him down; come away to your room," +said Henrietta, gently taking his hand. + +Jacquelina, white with horror, was kneeling with clasped hands and +dilated eyes, gazing at the ruin. The old man's glance fell upon her +there, and his passion changed from grief to fury. Fiercely he broke +forth: + +"It was you! You are the murderess--you! Heaven's vengeance light upon +you!" + +"Oh, I never meant it! I never meant it! I am very wretched! I wish I'd +never been born!" cried Jacquelina, wringing her pale fingers. + +"Out of my sight, you curse! Out of my sight--and may Heaven's wrath +pursue you!" thundered the commodore, shaking with grief and rage. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +THE BODY ON THE BEACH. + + +In the meanwhile, where was he whose headlong passions had precipitated +this catastrophe? where was Thurston? After having parted with his +confederate, he hurried home, for a very busy day lay before him. To +account for his sudden departure, and long absence, and to cover his +retreat, it was necessary to have some excuse, such as a peremptory +summons to Baltimore upon the most important business. Once in that +city, he would have leisure to find some further apology for proceeding +directly to France without first returning home. Now, strange as it may +appear, though his purposed treachery to Marian wrung his bosom with +remorse whenever he paused to think of it, yet it was the remorse +without humiliation; for he persuaded himself that stratagem was fair in +love as in war, especially in his case with Marian, who had already +given him her hand; but now the unforseen necessity of these subterfuges +made his cheek burn. He hastened to Dell-Delight, and showing the old +man a letter he had that morning received from the city, informed him +that he was obliged to depart immediately, upon affairs of the most +urgent moment to him, and then, to escape the sharp stings of +self-scorn, he busied himself with arranging his papers, packing his +trunks and ordering his servants. His baggage was packed into and behind +the old family carriage, and having completed his preparations about one +o'clock, he entered it, and was driven rapidly to the village. + +The schooner was already at the wharf and waiting for him. Thurston met +many of his friends in the village, and in an off-hand manner explained +to them the ostensible cause of his journey. And thus, in open daylight, +gayly chatting with his friends, Thurston superintended the embarkation +of his baggage. And it was not until one by one they had shaken hands +with him, wished him a good voyage and departed, that Thurston found +himself alone with the captain in the cabin. + +"Now you know, Miles, that I have not come on board to remain. When the +coast is clear I shall go on shore, get in the carriage, and return to +Dell-Delight. I must meet my wife on the beach. I must remain with her +through all. I must take her on board. You will be off Pine Bluff just +at dusk, captain?" + +"Ay, ay, sir." + +"You will not be a moment behind hand?" + +"Trust me for that, Cap'n." + +"See if the people have left." + +The skipper went on deck and returned to report the coast clear. + +Thurston then went on shore, entered the carriage, and was driven +homeward. + +It was nearly four o'clock when he reached Dell-Delight, and there he +found the whole premises in a state of confusion. Several negroes were +on the lookout for him; and as soon as they saw him ran to the house. + +"What is the meaning of all this?" he inquired, detaining one of the +hindmost. + +"Oh, Marse Thuster, sir! oh, sir!" exclaimed the boy, rolling his eyes +quite wildly. + +"What is the matter with the fool?" + +"Oh, sir; my poor ole marse! my poor ole marse!" + +"What has happened to your master? Can't you be plain, sir?" + +"Oh, Marse Thuster, sir! he done fell down inter a fit, an had to be +toted off to bed." + +"A fit! good heavens! has a doctor been summoned?" exclaimed Thurston, +springing from his seat. + +"Oh, yes, sir! Jase be done gone arter de doctor." + +Thurston stopped to inquire no farther, but ran into the house and up +into his grandfather's chamber. + +There a distressing scene met his eyes. The old man, with his limbs +distorted, and his face swollen and discolored, lay in a state of +insensibility upon the bed. Two or three negro women were gathered +around him, variously occupied with rubbing his hands, chafing his +temples and wiping the oozing foam from his lips. At the foot of the bed +stood poor daft Fanny, with disheveled hair and dilated eyes, chanting a +grotesque monologue, and keeping time with a see-saw motion from side to +side. The first thing Thurston did, was to take the hand of this poor +crazed, but docile creature, and lead her from the sick-room up into her +own. He bade her remain there, and then returned to his grandfather's +bedside. In reply to his anxious questioning, he was informed that the +old man had fallen into a fit about an hour before--that a boy had been +instantly sent for the doctor, and the patient carried to bed; but that +he had not spoken since they laid him there. It would yet be an hour +before the doctor could possibly arrive, and the state of the patient +demanded instant attention. + +And withal Thurston was growing very anxious upon Marian's account. The +sun was now sinking under a dark bank of clouds. The hour of his +appointed meeting with her was approaching. He felt, of course, that his +scheme must for the present be deferred--even if its accomplishment +should again seem necessary, which was scarcely possible. But Marian +would expect him. And how should he prevent her coming to the beach and +waiting for him there? He did not know where a message would most likely +now to find her, whether at Luckenough, at Old Fields or at Colonel +Thornton's. But he momentarily expected the arrival of Dr. Brightwell, +and he resolved to leave that good man in attendance at the sick bed, +while he himself should escape for a few hours; and hurry to the beach +to meet and have an explanation with his wife. + +But an hour passed, and the doctor did not come. + +Thurston's eyes wandered anxiously from the distorted face of the dying +man before him, to the window that commanded the approach to the house. +But no sign of the doctor was to be seen. + +The sun was on the very edge of the horizon. The sufferer before him was +evidently approaching his end. Marian he knew must be on her way to the +beach. And a dreadful storm was rising. + +His anxiety reached fever heat. + +He could not leave the bedside of his dying relative, yet Marian must +not be permitted to wait upon the beach, exposed to the fierceness of +the storm, or worse the rudeness of his own confederates. + +He took a sudden resolution, and wondered that he had not done so +before. He resolved to summon Marian as his wife to his home. + +Full of this thought, he hastened down stairs and ordered Melchizedek to +put the horse to the gig and get ready to go an errand. And while the +boy was obeying his directions, Thurston penned the following lines to +Marian: + +"My dear Marian--my dear, generous, long-suffering wife--come to my aid. +My grandfather has been suddenly stricken down with apoplexy, and is +dying. The physician has not yet arrived, and I cannot leave his +bedside. Return with my messenger, to assist me in taking care of the +dying man. You, who are the angel of the sick and suffering, will not +refuse me your aid. Come, never to leave me more! Our marriage shall be +acknowledged to-morrow, to-night, any time, that you in your nicer +judgment, shall approve. Come! let nothing hinder you. I will send a +message to Edith to set her anxiety at rest, or I will send for her to +be with you here. Come to me, beloved Marian. Dictate your own +conditions if you will--only come." + +He had scarcely sealed this note, when the boy, hat in hand, appeared at +the door. + +"Take this note, sir, jump in the gig and drive as fast as possible to +the beach below Pine Bluffs. You will see Miss Mayfield waiting there, +give her this note, and then--await her orders. Be quicker than you ever +were before," said Thurston, hurrying his messenger off. + +Then, much relieved of anxiety upon Marian's account, he returned to the +sick-room and renewed his endeavors to relieve the patient. + +Ah! he was far past relief now; he was stricken with death. And with +Thurston all thoughts, all feelings, all interests, even those connected +with Marian, were soon lost in that awful presence. It was the first +time he had ever looked upon death, and now, in the rushing tide of his +sinful passions and impetuous will, he was brought face to face with +this last, dread, all-conquering power! What if it were not in his own +person? What if it were in the person of an old man, very infirm, and +over-ripe for the great reaper? It was death--the final earthly end of +every living creature--death, the demolition of the human form, the +breaking up of the vital functions, the dissolution between soul and +body, the one great event that "happeneth to all;" the doom certain, the +hour uncertain; coming in infancy, youth, maturity, as often or oftener +than in age. These were the thoughts that filled Thurston's mind as he +stood and wiped the clammy dews from the brow of the dying man. + +Thurston might have remained much longer, too deeply and painfully +absorbed in thought to notice the darkening of the night or the beating +of the storm, had not a gust of the rain and wind, of unusual violence, +shaken the windows. + +This recalled Marian to his mind; it was nearly time for her to arrive; +he hoped that she was near the house; that she would soon be there; he +arose and went to the window to look forth into the night; but the deep +darkness prevented his seeing, as the noise of the storm prevented his +hearing the approach of any vehicle that might be near. He went back to +the bedside; the old man was breathing his life away without a struggle. +Thurston called the mulatto housekeeper to take his place, and then went +down stairs and out of the hall door, and gazed and listened for the +coming of the gig, in vain. He was just about to re-enter the hall and +close the door when the sound of wheels, dashing violently, +helter-skelter, and with break-neck speed into the yard, arrested his +attention. + +"Marian! it is my dear Marian at last; but the fellow need not risk her +life to save her from the storm by driving at that rate. My own Marian!" +he exclaimed, as he hurried out, expecting to meet her. + +Melchizedek alone sprang from the gig, and sank trembling and quaking at +his master's feet. + +Thurston blindly pushed past him, and peered and felt in the gig. It was +empty. + +"Where is the lady, sirrah? What ails you? Why don't you answer me?" +exclaimed Thurston, anxiously returning to the spot where the boy +crouched. But the latter remained speechless, trembling, groaning, and +wringing his hands. "Will you speak, idiot? I ask you where is the lady? +Was she not upon the beach? What has frightened you so? Did the horse +run away?" inquired Thurston, hurriedly, in great alarm. + +"Oh, sir, marster! I 'spects she's killed!" + +"Killed! Oh, my God! she has been thrown from the gig!" cried the young +man, in a piercing voice, as he reeled under this blow. In another +instant he sprang upon the poor boy and shaking him furiously, cried in +a voice of mingled grief, rage and anxiety: "Where was she thrown? Where +is she? How did it happen? Oh! villain! villain! you shall pay for this +with your life! Come and show me the spot! instantly! instantly!" + +"Oh, marster, have mercy, sir! 'Twasn't along o' me an' the gig it +happened of! She wur 'parted when I got there!" + +"Where? Where? Good heavens, where?" asked Thurston, nearly beside +himself. + +"On de beach, sir. Jes' as I got down there, I jumped out'n de gig, and +walked along, and then I couldn't see my way, an' I turned de bull-eye +ob de lantern on de sand afore me, an' oh, marse--" + +"Go, on! go on!" + +"I seen de lady lying like dead, and a man jump up and run away, and +when I went nigh, I seen her all welkering in her blood, an' dis yer +lying by her," and the boy handed a small poignard to his master. + +It was Thurston's own weapon, that he had lost some months previous in +the woods of Luckenough. It was a costly and curious specimen of French +taste and ingenuity. The handle was of pearl, carved in imitation of the +sword-fish, and the blade corresponded to the long pointed beak that +gives the fish that name. + +Thurston scarcely noticed that it was his dagger, but pushing the boy +aside, he ran to the stables, saddled a horse with the swiftness of +thought, threw himself into his stirrups, and galloped furiously away +towards the beach. + +The rain was now falling in torrents, and the wind driving it in fierce +gusts against his face. The tempest was at its very height, and it +seemed at times impossible to breast the blast--it seemed as though +steed and rider must be overthrown! Yet he lashed and spurred his horse, +and struggled desperately on, thinking with fierce anguish of Marian, +his Marian, lying wounded, helpless, alone and dying, exposed to all the +fury of the winds and waves upon that tempestuous coast, and dreading +with horror, lest before he should be able to reach her, her helpless +form, still living, might be washed off by the advancing waves. Thus he +spurred and lashed his horse, and drove him against rain and wind, and +through the darkness of the night. + +With all his desperate haste, it was two hours before he approached the +beach. And as he drew near the heavy cannonading of the waves upon the +shore admonished him that the tide was at its highest point. He pressed +rapidly onward, threw himself from his horse, and ran forward to the +edge of the bank above the beach. It was only to meet the confirmation +of his worst fears! The waters were thundering against the bank upon +which he stood. The tide had come in and overswept the whole beach, and +now, lashed and driven by the wind, the waves tossed and raved and +roared with appalling fury. + +Marian was gone, lost, swept away by the waves! that was the thought +that wrung from him a cry of fierce agony, piercing through all the +discord of the storm, as he ran up and down the shore, hoping nothing, +expecting nothing, yet totally unable to tear himself from the fatal +spot. + +And so he wildly walked and raved, until his garments were drenched +through with the rain; until the storm exhausted its fury and subsided; +until the changing atmosphere, the still, severe cold, froze all his +clothing stiff around him; so he walked, groaning and crying and calling +despairingly upon the name of Marian, until the night waned and the +morning dawned, and the eastern horizon grew golden, then crimson, then +fiery with the coming sun. + +The sky was clear, the waters calm, the sands bare and glistening in the +early sunbeams; no vestige of the storm or of the bloody outrage of the +night remained--all was peace and beauty. In the distance was a single +snow-white sail, floating swan-like on the bosom of the blue waters. All +around was beauty and peace, yet from the young man's tortured bosom +peace had fled, and remorse, vulture-like, had struck its talons deep +into his heart. He called himself a murderer, the destroyer of Marian; +he said it was his selfishness, his willfulness, his treachery, that had +exposed her to this danger, and brought her to this fate! Some outlaw, +some waterman, or fugitive negro had robbed and murdered her. Marian +usually wore a very valuable watch; probably, also, she had money about +her person--enough to have tempted the cupidity of some lawless wretch. +He shrank in horror from pursuing conjecture--it was worse than torture, +worse than madness to him. Oh, blindness and frenzy; why had he not +thought of these dangers so likely to beset her solitary path? Why had +he so recklessly exposed her to them? Vain questions, alas! vain as was +his self-reproach, his anguish and despair! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +THE MISSING MARIAN. + + +In the meantime, how had the morning broken upon Dell-Delight? How upon +Luckenough? and how at Old Field Cottage? + +At Dell-Delight the old man had expired just before the sun arose. The +two physicians that had been summoned the night previous, but had been +delayed by the storm, arrived in the morning only to see the patient +die. Many inquiries were made and much conjecture formed as to the cause +of Thurston Willcoxen's improper and unaccountable absence at such a +juncture. But Melchizedek, poor, faithful fellow, having followed his +master's steps, did not appear, and no one else upon the premises could +give any explanation relative to the movements of their young master. He +had left the bedside of his dying relative at nine o'clock the night +before, and he had not since returned--his saddle-horse was gone from +the stable--that was all that could be ascertained. Dr. Brightwell took +his departure, to answer other pressing calls. But Dr. Weismann, seeing +that there was no responsible person in charge, and having elsewhere no +urgent demands upon his time and attention, kindly volunteered to stay +and superintend affairs at Dell-Delight, until the reappearance of the +young master. + + * * * * * + +At Old Field Cottage, Edith had sat up late the night before waiting for +Marian; but, seeing that she did not return, had taken it for granted +that she had remained all night with Miss Thornton, and so, without the +least uneasiness at her prolonged absence, had retired to rest. And in +the morning she arose with the same impression on her mind, gayly +looking forward to Marian's return with the visitor, and the certain +happy revelation she had promised. + +She had breakfast over early, made the room very tidy, dressed Miriam in +her holiday clothes, put on her own Sunday gown, and sat down to wait +for Marian and the visitor. The morning passed slowly, in momentary +expectation of an arrival. + +It was near eleven o'clock when she looked up and saw Colonel Thornton's +carriage approaching the cottage. + +"There! I said so! I knew Marian had remained with Miss Thornton, and +that they would bring her home this morning. I suppose Colonel Thornton +and his sister are both with her! And now for the revelation! I wonder +what it is," said Edith, smiling to herself, as she arose and stroked +down her dress, and smoothed her ringlets, preparatory to meeting her +guests. + +By this time the carriage had drawn up before the cottage gate. Edith +went out just in time to see the door opened, and Miss Thornton alight. +The lady was alone--that Edith saw at the first glance. + +"What can be the meaning of this?" she asked herself, as she went +forward to welcome her visitor. + +But Miss Thornton was very pale and tremulous, and she acted altogether +strangely. + +"How do you do, Miss Thornton? I am very glad to see you," said Edith, +cordially offering her hand. + +But the lady seized it, and drew her forcibly towards the door, saying +in a husky voice: + +"Come in--come in!" + +Full of surprise, Edith followed her. + +"Sit down," she continued, sinking into a chair, and pointing to a +vacant one by her side. + +Edith took the seat, and waited in wonder for her further speech. + +"Where is Marian?" asked Miss Thornton, in an agitated voice. + +"Where? Why, I believed her to be at your house!" answered Edith, in +surprise and vague fear. + +"Good heaven!" exclaimed the lady, growing very pale, and trembling in +every limb. Edith started up in alarm. + +"Miss Thornton, what do you mean? For mercy's sake, tell me, has +anything happened?" + +"I do not know--I am not sure--I trust not--tell me! when did you see +her last? When did she leave home? this morning?" + +"No! last evening, about sundown." + +"And she has not returned? You have not seen her since?" + +"No!" + +"Did she tell you where she was going?" + +"No!" + +"Did she promise to come back? and when?" + +"She promised to return before dark! She did not do so! I judged the +storm had detained her, and that she was with you, and I felt easy." + +"Oh, God!" cried the lady, in a voice of deep distress, + +"Miss Thornton! for Heaven's sake! tell me what has occurred!" + +"Oh, Edith!" + +"In mercy, explain yourself--Marian! what of Marian?" + +"Oh, God, sustain you, Edith! what can I say to you? my own heart is +lacerated!" + +"Marian! Marian! oh! what has happened to Marian! Oh! where is Marian?" + +"I had hoped to find her here after all! else I had not found courage to +come!" + +"Miss Thornton, this is cruel--" + +"Ah! poor Edith! what you required to be told is far more cruel. Oh, +Edith! pray Heaven for fortitude?" + +"I have fortitude for anything but suspense. Oh, Heaven, Miss Thornton, +relieve this suspense, or I shall suffocate!" + +"Edith! Edith!" said the lady, going up and putting her arms around the +fragile form of the young widow, as to shield and support her. "Oh, +Edith! I heard a report this morning--and it may be but a report--I pray +Heaven, that it is no more--" + +"Oh, go on! what was it?" + +"That, that last evening on the beach during the storm, Marian +Mayfield--" Miss Thornton's voice choked. + +"Oh, speak; for mercy speak! What of Marian?" + +"That Marian Mayfield had been waylaid, and--" + +"Murdered! Oh, God!" cried Edith, as her over-strained nerves relaxed, +and she sank in the arms of Miss Thornton. + +A child's wild, frenzied shriek resounded through the house. It was the +voice of Miriam. + + * * * * * + +At Luckenough that morning, the remains of the unfortunate Dr. Grimshaw +were laid out preparatory to burial. Jacquelina, in a bewildered stupor +of remorse, wandered vaguely from room to room, seeking rest and finding +none. "I have caused a fellow creature's death!" That was the envenomed +thought that corroded her heart's centre. From her bosom, too, peace had +fled. It was near noon when the news of Marian's fate reached +Luckenough, and overwhelmed the family with consternation and grief. + +But Jacquelina! the effect of the tragic tale on her was nearly fatal. +She understood the catastrophe, as no one else could! She knew who +struck the fatal blow, and when and why, and under what mistake it was +struck! She felt that another crime, another death lay heavy on her +soul! It was too much! oh! it was too much! No human heart nor brain +could sustain the crushing burden, and the poor lost elf fell into +convulsions that threatened soon to terminate in death. There was no +raving, no talking; in all her frenzy, the fatal secret weighing on her +bosom did not then transpire. + + * * * * * + +Before the day was out the whole county was in an uproar. Never had any +event of the neighborhood created so high an excitement or so profound a +sympathy. Great horror and amazement filled every bosom. A county +meeting spontaneously convened, and handbills were printed, large +rewards offered, and every means taken to secure the discovery of the +criminal. In the deep, absorbing sympathy for Marian's fate, the sudden +death of Professor Grimshaw, and the reasonably-to-be-expected demise of +old Mr. Cloudesley Willcoxen, passed nearly unnoticed, and were soon +forgotten. Among the most zealous in the pursuit of the unknown murderer +was Thurston Willcoxen; but the ghastly pallor of his countenance, the +wildness of his eyes, and the distraction of his manner, often varied by +fits of deep and sullen despair, excited the surprise and conjecture of +all who looked upon him. + +Days passed and still no light was thrown upon the mystery. About a +fortnight after the catastrophe, however, information was brought to the +neighborhood that the corpse of a woman, answering to the description of +Marian, had been washed ashore some miles down the coast, but had been +interred by the fishermen, the day after its discovery. Many gentlemen +hurried down to the spot, and further investigation confirmed the +general opinion that the body was that of the martyred girl. + + * * * * * + +Three weeks after this, Edith lay upon her deathbed. Her delicate frame +never recovered this last great shock. A few days before her death she +called Miriam to her bedside. The child approached; she was sadly +altered within the last few weeks; incessant weeping had dimmed her +splendid eyes, and paled her brilliant cheeks. + +"Sit down upon the bed by me, my daughter," said Edith. + +The child climbed up and took the indicated seat. Something of that +long-smothered fire, which had once braved the fury of the British +soldiers, kindled in the dying woman's eyes. + +"Miriam, you are nearly nine years old in time, and much older than that +in thought and feeling. Miriam, your mother has not many days to live; +but in dying, she leaves you a sacred trust to be fulfilled. My child, +do you follow and understand me?" + +"Yes, mamma." + +"Do not weep; tears are vain and idle. There was an injured queen once +whose tears were turned to sparks of fire. So I would have yours to +turn! She came among us a young stranger girl, without fortune or +position, or any of the usual stepping-stones to social consideration. +Yet see what influence, what power she soon obtained, and what reforms +and improvements she soon effected. The county is rich in the monuments +of her young wisdom and angelic goodness. All are indebted to her; but +none so deeply as you and I. All are bound to seek out and punish her +destroyer; but none so strongly as you and I. Others have pursued the +search for the murderer with great zeal for a while; we must make that +search the one great object of our lives. Upon us devolve the right and +the duty to avenge her death by bringing her destroyer to the scaffold. +Miriam, do you hear--do you hear and understand me?" + +"Yes, mamma; yes." + +"Child, listen to me! I have a clue to Marian's murderer!" + +Miriam started, and attended breathlessly. + +"My love, it was no poor waterman or fugitive negro, tempted by want or +cupidity. It was a gentleman, Miriam." + +"A gentleman?" + +"Yes; one that she must have become acquainted with during her visit to +Washington three years ago. Oh, I remember her unaccountable distress in +the months that followed that visit! His name, or his assumed name, +was--attend, Miriam!--Thomas Truman." + +"Thomas Truman!" + +"Yes; and while you live, remember that name, until its owner hangs upon +the gallows!" + +Miriam shuddered, and hid her pale face in her hands. + +"Here," said Edith, taking a small packet of letters from under her +pillow. "Here, Miriam, is a portion of her correspondence with this man, +Thomas Truman--I found it in the secret drawer of her bureau. There are +several notes entreating her to give him a meeting, on the beach, at +Mossy Dell, and at other points. From the tenor of these notes, I am led +to believe that she refused these meetings; and, more than that, from +the style of one in particular I am induced to suppose that she might +have been privately married to that man. Why he should have enticed her +to that spot to destroy her life, I do not know. But this, at least, I +know: that our dearest Marian has been basely assassinated. I see reason +to suppose the assassin to have been her lover, or her husband, and that +his real or assumed name was Thomas Truman. These facts, and this little +packet of notes and letters, are all that I have to offer as testimony. +But by following a slight clue, we are sometimes led to great +discoveries." + +"Why didn't you show them to the gentlemen, dear mamma? They might have +found out something by them." + +"I showed them to Thurston Willcoxen, who has been so energetic in the +pursuit of the unknown murderer; but Thurston became so violently +agitated that I thought he must have fallen. And he wished very much to +retain those letters, but I would not permit them to be carried out of +my sight. When he became calmer, however, he assured me that there could +be no possible connection between the writer of these notes and the +murderer of the unfortunate girl. I, however, think differently. I think +there is a connection, and even an identity; and I think this packet may +be the means of bringing the criminal to justice; and I leave it--a +sacred trust--in your charge, Miriam. Guard it well; guard it as your +only treasure, until it has served its destined purpose. And now, +Miriam, do you know the nature of a vow?" + +"Yes, mamma." + +"Do you understand its solemnity--its obligation, its inviolability?" + +"I think I do, mamma." + +"Do you know that in the performance of your vow, if necessary, no toil, +no privation, no suffering of mind or body, no dearest interest of your +life, no strongest affection of your soul, but must be sacrificed; do +you comprehend all this?" + +"Yes, mamma; I knew it before, and I have read of Jeptha and his +daughter." + +"Now, Miriam, kneel down, fold your hands, and give them to me between +my own. Look into my eyes. I want you to make a vow to God and to your +dying mother, to avenge the death of Marian. Will you bind your soul by +such an obligation?" + +The child was magnetized by the thrilling eyes that gazed deep into her +own. She answered: + +"Yes, mamma." + +"You vow in the sight of God and all his holy angels, that, as you hope +for salvation, you will devote your life with all your faculties of mind +and body, to the discovery and punishment of Marian's murderer; and also +that you will live a maiden until you become and avenger." + +"I vow." + +"Swear that no afterthoughts shall tempt you to falter; that happen what +may in the changing years, you will not hesitate; that though your +interests and affections should intervene, you will not suffer them to +retard you in your purpose; that no effort, no sacrifice, no privation, +no suffering of mind or body shall be spared, if needful, to the +accomplishment of your vow." + +"I swear." + +"You will do it! You are certain to discover the murderer, and clear up +the mystery." + +The mental excitement that had carried Edith through this scene +subsided, and left her very weak, so that when Thurston Willcoxen soon +after called to see her, she was unable to receive him. + +The next morning, however, Thurston repeated his visit, and was brought +to the bedside of the invalid. + +Thurston was frightfully changed, the sufferings of the last month +seemed to have made him old--his countenance was worn, his voice hollow, +and his manner abstracted and uncertain. + +"Edith," he asked, as he took the chair near her head, "do you feel +stronger this morning?" + +"Yes--I always do in the forenoon" + +"Do you feel well enough to talk of Miriam and her future?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"What do you propose to do with her?" + +"I shall leave her to Aunt Henrietta--she will never let the child +want." + +"But Mrs. Waugh is quite an old lady now. Jacquelina is insane, the +commodore and Mrs. L'Oiseau scarcely competent to take care of +themselves--and Luckenough a sad, unpromising home for a little girl." + +"I know it--oh! I know it; why do you speak of it, since I can do no +otherwise?" + +"To point out how you may do otherwise, dear Edith. It would have been +cruel to mention it else." + +She looked up at him with surprise and inquiry. + +"Edith, you have known me from my boyhood. You know what I am. Will you +leave your orphan daughter to me? You look at me in wonder; but listen, +dear Edith, and then decide. Marian--dear martyred saint! loved that +child as her own. And I loved Marian--loved her as I had never dreamed +it possible for heart to love--I cannot speak of this! it deprives me of +reason," he said, suddenly covering his eyes with his hands, while a +spasm agitated his worn face. In a few minutes he resumed. + +"Look at me, Edith! the death of Marian has brought me to what you see! +My youth has melted away like a morning mist. I have not an object in +life except to carry out purposes which were dear to her benevolent +heart, and which her sudden death has left incomplete. I have not an +affection in the world except that which comes through her. I should +love this child dearly, and cherish her devotedly for Marian's sake. I +shall never change my bachelor life--but I should like to legally adopt +little Miriam. I should give her the best educational advantages, and +make her the co-heir with my young brother, Paul Douglass, of all I +possess. Say, Edith, can you trust your child to me?" He spoke +earnestly, fervently, taking her hand and pressing it, and gazing +pleadingly into her eyes. + +"So you loved Marian--I even judged so when I saw you labor hardest of +all for the apprehension of the criminal. Oh, many loved her as much as +you! Colonel Thornton, Dr. Weismann, Judge Gordon, Mr. Barnwell, all +adored her! Ah! she was worthy of it." + +"No more of that, dear Edith, it will overcome us both; but tell me if +you will give me your little girl?" + +"Dear Thurston, your proposal is as strange and unusual as it is +generous. I thank you most sincerely, but you must give me time to look +at it and think of it. You are sincere, you are in earnest, you mean all +you say. I see that in your face; but I must reflect and take counsel +upon such an important step. Go now, dear Thurston, and return to me at +this hour to-morrow morning." + +Thurston pressed her hand and departed. + +The same day Edith had a visit from Mrs. Waugh, Miss Thornton and other +friends. And after consulting with them upon the proposal that had been +made her, she decided to leave Miriam in the joint guardianship of Mrs. +Waugh and Thurston Willcoxen. + +And this decision was made known to Thurston when he called the next +morning. + +A few days after this Edith passed to the world of spirits. And Thurston +took the orphan child to his own heart and home. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +IN MERRY ENGLAND. + + +When Marian recovered consciousness she found herself on board ship and +a lady attending to her wants. When she was at last able to ask how she +came there the lady nurse told the following story: + +"On the evening of Holy Thursday, about the time the storm arose, our +vessel lay to opposite a place on St. Mary's coast, called Pine Bluff, +and the mate put off in a boat to land a passenger; as they neared the +shore they met another boat rowed by two men, who seemed so anxious to +escape observation, as to row away as fast as they could without +answering our boat's salute. Our mate thought very strange of it at the +time; but the mysterious boat was swiftly hid in the darkness, and our +boat reached the land. The mate and his man had to help to carry the +passenger's trunks up to the top of the bluff, and a short distance +beyond, where a carriage was kept waiting for him, and after they had +parted from him, they returned down the bluff by a shorter though +steeper way; and just as they reached the beach, in the momentary lull +of the storm, they heard groans. Immediately the men connected those +sounds with the strange boat they had seen row away, and they raised the +wick in the lantern, and threw its light around, and soon discovered you +upon the sands, moaning, though nearly insensible. They naturally +concluded that you had been the victim of the men in the boat, who were +probably pirates. Their first impulse was to pursue the carriage, and +get you placed within it, and taken to some farmhouse for assistance; +but a moment's reflection convinced them that such a plan was futile, as +it was impossible to overtake the carriage. There was also no house near +the coast. They thought it likely that you were a stranger to that part +of the country. And in the hurry and agitation of the moment, they could +devise nothing better than to put you in the boat, and bring you on +board this vessel. That is the way you came here." + +The grateful gaze of Marian thanked the lady, and she asked: + +"Tell me the name of my angel nurse." + +"Rachel Holmes," answered the lady, blushing gently. "My husband is a +surgeon in the United States army. He is on leave of absence now for the +purpose of taking me home to see my father and mother--they live in +London. I am of English parentage." + +Marian feebly pressed her hand, and then said: + +"You are very good to ask me no questions, and I thank you with all my +heart; for, dear lady, I can tell you nothing." + +The next day the vessel which had put into New York Harbor on call, +sailed for Liverpool. + +Marian slowly improved. Her purposes were not very clear or strong +yet--mental and physical suffering and exhaustion had temporarily +weakened and obscured her mind. Her one strong impulse was to escape, to +get away from the scenes of such painful associations and memories, and +to go home, to take refuge in her own native land. The thought of +returning to Maryland, to meet the astonishment, the wonder, the +conjectures, the inquiries, and perhaps the legal investigation that +might lead to the exposure and punishment of Thurston, was insupportable +to her heart. No, no! rather let the width of the ocean divide her from +all those horrors. Undoubtedly her friends believed her dead--let it be +so--let her remain as dead to them. She should leave no kindred behind +her, to suffer by her loss--should wrong no human being. True, there +were Miriam and Edith! But that her heart was exhausted by its one +great, all-consuming grief, it must have bled for them! Yet they had +already suffered all they could possibly suffer from the supposition of +her death--it was now three weeks since they had reason to believe her +dead, and doubtless kind Nature had already nursed them into resignation +and calmness, that would in time become cheerfulness. If she should go +back, there would be the shock, the amazement, the questions, the +prosecutions, perhaps the conviction, and the sentence, and the horrors +of a state prison for one the least hair of whose head she could not +willingly hurt; and then her own early death, or should she survive, her +blighted life. Could these consequences console or benefit Edith or +Miriam? No, no, they would augment grief. It was better to leave things +as they were--better to remain dead to them--a dead sorrow might be +forgotten--living one never! For herself, it was better to take fate as +she found it--to go home to England, and devote her newly restored life, +and her newly acquired fortune, to those benevolent objects that had so +lately occupied so large a share of her heart. Some means also should be +found--when she should grow stronger, and her poor head should be +clearer, so that she should be able to think--to make Edith and Miriam +the recipients of all the benefit her wealth could possibly confer upon +them. And so in recollecting, meditating, planning, and trying to reason +correctly, and to understand her embarrassed position, and her difficult +duty, passed the days of her convalescence. As her mind cleared, the +thought of Angelica began to give her uneasiness--she could not bear to +think of leaving that young lady exposed to the misfortune of becoming +Thurston's wife--and her mind toiled with the difficult problem of how +to shield Angelica without exposing Thurston. + +A few days after this, Marian related to her kind friends all of her +personal history that she could impart, without compromising the safety +of others: and she required and received from them the promise of their +future silence in regard to her fate. + +As they approached the shores of England, Marian improved so fast as to +be able to go on deck. And though extremely pale and thin, she could no +longer be considered an invalid, when, on the thirtieth day out, their +ship entered the mouth of the Mersey. Upon their arrival at Liverpool, +it had been the intention of Dr. Holmes and his wife to proceed to +London; but now they decided to delay a few hours until they should see +Marian safe in the house of her friends. The Rev. Theodore Burney was a +retired dissenting clergyman, living on his modest patrimony in a +country house a few miles out of Liverpool, and now at eighty years +enjoying a hale old age. Dr. Holmes took a chaise and carried Marian and +Rachel out to the place. The house was nearly overgrown with climbing +vines, and the grounds were beautiful with the early spring verdure and +flowers. The old man was overjoyed to meet Marian, and he received her +with a father's welcome. He thanked her friends for their care and +attention, and pressed them to come and stay several days or weeks. But +Dr. Holmes and Rachel simply explained that their visit was to their +parents in London, which city they were anxious to reach as soon as +possible, and, thanking their host, they took leave of him, of his old +wife, and Marian, and departed. + +The old minister looked hard at Marian. + +"You are pale, my dear. Well, I always heard that our fresh island roses +withered in the dry heat of the American climate, and now I know it! But +come! we shall soon see a change and what wonders native air and native +manners and morning walks will work in the way of restoring bloom." + +Marian did not feel bound to reply, and her ill health remained charged +to the account of our unlucky atmosphere. + +The next morning, the old gentleman took Marian into his library, told +her once more how very little surprised, and how very glad he was that +instead of writing, she had come in person. He then made her acquainted +with certain documents, and informed her that it would be necessary she +should go up to London, and advised her to do so just as soon as she +should feel herself sufficiently rested. Marian declared herself to be +already recovered of fatigue, and anxious to proceed with the business +of settlement. Their journey was thereupon fixed for the second day from +that time. And upon the appointed morning Marian, attended by the old +clergyman, set out for the mammoth capital, where, in due season, they +arrived. A few days were busily occupied amid the lumber of law +documents, before Marian felt sufficiently at ease to advise her +friends, the Holmeses, of her presence in town. Only a few hours had +elapsed, after reading her note and address, before she received a call +from Mrs. Holmes and her father, Dr. Coleman, a clergyman of high +standing in the Church of England. Friendliness and a beautiful +simplicity characterized the manners of both father and daughter. Rachel +entreated Marian to return with her and make her father's house her home +while in London. She spoke with an affectionate sincerity that Marian +could neither doubt nor resist, and when Dr. Coleman cordially seconded +his daughter's invitation, Marian gratefully accepted the proffered +hospitality. And the same day Mr. Burney bade a temporary farewell to +his favorite, and departed for Liverpool, and Marian accompanied her +friend Rachel Holmes to the house of Dr. Coleman. + + * * * * * + +We may not pause to trace minutely the labors of love in which Marian +sought at once to forget her own existence and to bless that of others. + +A few events only it will be necessary to record. + +In the very first packet of Baltimore papers received by Dr. Holmes, +Marian saw announced the marriage of Angelica Le Roy to Henry Barnwell. +She knew by the date, that it took place within two weeks after she +sailed from the shores of America. And her anxiety on that young lady's +account was set at rest. + +After a visit of two months, Dr. Holmes and his lovely wife prepared to +return to the United States. And the little fortune that Marian intended +to settle upon Edith and Miriam, was intrusted to the care of the worthy +surgeon, to be invested in bank stock for their benefit, as soon as he +should reach Baltimore. It was arranged that the donor should remain +anonymous, or be known only as a friend of Miriam's father. + +In the course of a few months, Marian's institution, "The Children's +Home," was commenced, and before the end of the first year, it was +completed and filled with inmates. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +THURSTON. + + +After a stormy passage in life comes a long calm, preceding, perhaps, +another storm. I must pass rapidly over several years. + +Thurston was a new being. He resolved to devote his time, talents and +means, first of all to carrying on and perfecting those works of +education and reform started by Marian in his own neighborhood. + +But this was a very mournful consolation, for in every thought and act +of the whole work, the memory of Marian was so intimately woven, that +her loss was felt with double keenness. Every effort was doubly +difficult; every obstacle was doubly great; every discouragement doubly +hopeless, because she was not there with her very presence inspiring +hope and energy--and every success was robbed of its joy, because she +was not there to rejoice with him. He missed her in all things; he +missed her everywhere. Solitude had fallen upon all the earth from which +she had passed away. Because her face was gone, all other faces were +repulsive to his sight; because her voice was silent, all other voices +were discordant to his ear; because her love was impossible, all other +friendships and affections were repugnant to his heart; and Thurston, +young, handsome, accomplished and wealthy, became a silent and lonely +man. + +The estate left by old Cloudesley Willcoxen had exceeded even the +reports of his hoarded wealth. The whole estate, real and personal, was +bequeathed to his eldest grandson, Thurston Willcoxen, upon the sole +condition that it should not be divided. + +Dell-Delight, with its natural beauties, was a home that wealth could +convert into a material paradise. Once it had been one of Thurston's +happiest dreams to adorn and beautify the matchless spot, and make it +worthy of Marian, its intended mistress. Now he could not bear to think +of those plans of home-beauty and happiness so interwoven with fond +thoughts of her. So poignant were the wounds of association, that he +could scarcely endure to remain in a neighborhood so filled with +reminiscences of her; and he must have fled the scene, and taken refuge +from memory in foreign travel, had he suffered from bereavement and +sorrow only; but he was tortured by remorse, and remorse demands to +suffer and to atone for sin. And, therefore, though it spiritually +seemed like being bound to a wheel and broken by its every turn, he was +true to his resolution to remain in the county and devote his time, +wealth, and abilities to the completion of Marian's unfinished works of +benevolence. + +Dell-Delight remained unaltered. He could not bear to make it beautiful, +since Marian could not enjoy its beauty. Only such changes were made as +were absolutely necessary in organizing his little household. A distant +relative, a middle-aged lady of exemplary piety, but of reduced fortune, +was engaged to come and preside at his table, and take charge of +Miriam's education, for Miriam was established at Dell-Delight. It is +true that Mrs. Waugh would have wished this arrangement otherwise. She +would have preferred to have the orphan girl with herself, but Commodore +Waugh would not even hear of Miriam's coming to Luckenough with any +patience--"For if her mother had married 'Grim,' none of these +misfortunes would have happened," he said. + +Even Jacquelina had been forced to fly from Luckenough; no one knew +wither; some said that she had run away; some knew that she had retired +to a convent; some said only to escape the din and turmoil of the world, +and find rest to her soul in a few months or years of quiet and silence, +and some said she had withdrawn for the purpose of taking the vows and +becoming a nun. Mrs. Waugh knew all about it, but she said nothing, +except to discourage inquiry upon the subject. In the midst of the +speculation following Jacquelina's disappearance, Cloudesley Mornington +had come home. He staid a day or two at Luckenough, a week at +Dell-Delight, and then took himself, with his broken heart, off from the +neighborhood, and got ordered upon a distant and active service. + +There were also other considerations that rendered it desirable for +Miriam to reside at Dell-Delight, rather than at Luckenough: Commodore +Waugh would have made a terrible guardian to a child so lately used to +the blessedness of a home with her mother--and withal, so shy and +sensitive as to breathe freely only in an atmosphere of peace and +affection, and Luckenough would have supplied a dark, and dreary home +for her whose melancholy temperament and recent bereavements rendered +change of scene and the companionship of other children, absolute +necessities. It was for these several reasons that Mrs. Waugh was forced +to consent that Thurston should carry his little adopted daughter to his +own home. Thurston's household consisted now of himself, Mrs. Morris, +his housekeeper; Alice Morris, her daughter; Paul Douglass, his own +half-brother; poor Fanny, and lastly, Miriam. + +Mrs. Morris was a lady of good family, but decayed fortune, of sober +years and exemplary piety. In closing her terms with Mr. Willcoxen, her +one great stipulation had been that she should bring her daughter, whom +she declared to be too "young and giddy" to be trusted out of her own +sight, even to a good boarding school. + +Mr. Willcoxen expressed himself rather pleased than otherwise at the +prospect of Miriam's having a companion, and so the engagement was +closed. + +Alice Morris was a hearty, cordial, blooming hoyden, really about ten or +eleven years of age, but seeming from her fine growth and proportions, +at least thirteen or fourteen. + +Paul Douglass was a fine, handsome, well-grown boy of fourteen, with an +open, manly forehead, shaded with clustering, yellow curls, as soft and +silky as a girl's, and a full, beaming, merry blue eye, whose flashing +glances were the most mirth-provoking to all upon whom they chanced to +light. Paul was, and ever since his first arrival in the house had been, +"the life of the family." His merry laugh and shout were the pleasantest +sounds in all the precincts of Dell-Delight. When Paul first heard that +there was to be an invasion of "women and girls" into Dell-Delight, he +declared he had rather there had been an irruption of the Goths and +Vandals at once--for if there were any folks he could not get along +with, they were "the gals." Besides which, he was sure now to have the +coldest seat around the fire, the darkest place at the table, the +backward ride in the carriage, and to get the necks of chickens and the +tails of fishes for his share of the dinner. Boys were always put upon +by the girls, and sorry enough he was, he said, that any were coming to +the house. And he vowed a boyish vow--"by thunder and lightning"--that +he would torment the girls to the very best of his ability. + +Girls, forsooth! girls coming to live there day and night, and eat, and +drink, and sleep, and sit, and sew, and walk up and down through the +halls, and parlors, and chambers of Dell-Delight--girls, with their +airs, and affectations, and pretensions, and exactions--girls--pah! the +idea was perfectly disgusting and offensive. He really did wonder at +"Brother," but then he already considered "Brother" something of an old +bachelor, and old bachelors would be queer. + +But Thurston well knew how to smite the rock, and open the fountain of +sympathy in the lad's heart. He said nothing in reply to the boy's saucy +objections, but on the evening that little Miriam arrived, he beckoned +Paul into the parlor, where the child sat, alone, and pointing her out +to him, said in a low tone: + +"Look at her; she has lost all her friends--she has just come from her +mother's grave--she is strange, and sad, and lonesome. Go, try to amuse +her." + +"I'm going to her, though I hardly know how," replied the lad, moving +toward the spot where the abstracted child sat deeply musing. + +"Miriam! Is that your name," he asked, by way of opening the +conversation. + +"Yes," replied the child, very softly and shyly. + +"It's a very heathenish--oh, Lord!--I mean it's a very pretty name is +Miriam, it's a Bible name, too. I don't know but what it's a saint's +name also." + +The little girl made no reply, and the boy felt at a loss what to say +next. After fidgeting from one foot to the other he began again. + +"Miriam, shall I show you my books--Scott's poems, and the Waverley +novels, and Milton's Paradise, and--" + +"No, I thank you," interrupted the girl, uneasily. + +"Well, would you like to see my pictures--two volumes of engravings, and +a portfolio full of sketches?" + +"No, thank you." + +"Shall I bring you my drawer full of minerals? I have got--" + +"I don't want them, please." + +"Well, then, would you like the dried bugs? I've got whole cards of them +under a glass case, and--" + +"I don't want them either, please." + +"Dear me! I have not got anything else to amuse you with. What do you +want?" exclaimed Paul, and he walked off in high dudgeon. + +The next day fortune favored Paul in his efforts to please Miriam. He +had a tame white rabbit, and he thought that the child would like it for +a pet--so he got up very early in the morning, and washed the rabbit +"clean as a new penny," and put it under a new box to get dry while he +rode to C---- and bought a blue ribbon to tie around its neck. This jaunt +made Paul very late at breakfast, but he felt rewarded when afterward he +gave the rabbit to old Jenny, and asked her to give it to the little +girl--and when he heard the latter say--"Oh, what a pretty little thing! +tell Paul, thanky!" After this, by slow degrees, he was enabled to +approach "the little blackbird" without alarming her. And after a while +he coaxed her to take a row in his little boat, and a ride on his little +pony--always qualifying his attentions by saying that he did not like +girls as a general thing, but that she was different from others. And +Mr. Willcoxen witnessed, with much satisfaction, the growing friendship +between the girl and boy, for they were the two creatures in the world +who divided all the interest he felt in life. The mutual effect of the +children upon each other's characters was very beneficent; the gay and +joyous spirits of Paul continually charmed Miriam away from those fits +of melancholy, to which she was by temperament and circumstances a prey, +while the little girl's shyness and timidity taught Paul to tame his own +boisterous manners for her sake. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Waugh had not forgotten her young _protége_. She came as often as +possible to Dell-Delight, to inquire after the health and progress of +the little girl. + +It is not to be supposed, in any neighborhood where there existed +managing mammas and unmarried daughters, that a young gentleman, +handsome, accomplished, wealthy, and of good repute, should remain +unmolested in his bachelorhood. Indeed, the matrons and maidens of his +own circle seemed to think themselves individually aggrieved by the +young heir's mode of life. And many were the dinners and evening parties +got up for his sake, in vain, for to their infinite disgust, Thurston +always returned an excuse instead of an acceptance. + +At length the wounded self-esteem of the community received a healing +salve, in the form of a report that Mr. Willcoxen had withdrawn from the +gay world, in order the better to prepare himself for the Christian +ministry. A report that, in twelve months, received its confirmation in +the well established fact that Thurston Willcoxen was a candidate for +holy orders. + +And in the meantime the young guardian did not neglect his youthful +charge, but in strict interpretation of his assumed duties of +guardianship, he had taken the education of the girl and boy under his +own personal charge. + +"Many hard-working ministers of the Gospel have received pupils to +educate for hire. Why may not I, with more time at my command, reserve +the privilege of educating my own adopted son and daughter," he said, +and acting upon that thought, had fitted up a little school-room +adjoining his library, where, in the presence of Mrs. Morris, Miriam and +Paul pursued their studies, Mrs. Morris hearing such recitations as lay +within her province, and Mr. Willcoxen attending to the classical and +mathematical branches. Thus passed many months, and every month the +hearts of the children were knitted closer to each other and to their +guardian. + +And Thurston Willcoxen "grew in favor, with God and man." His name +became the synonym for integrity, probity and philanthropy. He built a +church and a free-school, and supported both at his own expense. In the +third year after entering upon his inheritance, he was received into +holy orders; and two years after, he was elected pastor of his native +parish. Thus time went by, and brought at length the next eventful epoch +of our domestic history--that upon which Miriam completed her sixteenth +year. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +MIRIAM. + + +Six years had passed away. Thurston Willcoxen was the most beloved and +honored man, as well as the most distinguished clergyman of his day and +state. His church was always crowded, except when he changed with some +brother minister, whose pulpit was within reach--in which case, a great +portion of his congregation followed him. Many flattering "calls" had +the gifted and eloquent country parson received to metropolitan +parishes; but he remained the faithful shepherd of his own flock as long +as they would hear his voice. + +As Miriam grew into womanhood prudence kept her silent on the subject of +her strange vow. She, however, preserved in her memory the slight +indexes that she already had in possession--namely, beginning with +Marian's return after her visit to Washington--her changed manner, her +fits of reverie, her melancholy when she returned empty-handed from the +post-office, her joy when she received letters, which she would read in +secret and in silence, or when questioned concerning them, would gently +but firmly decline to tell from whom or whence they came; the +house-warming at Luckenough, where Marian suddenly became so bright and +gay, and the evening succeeding, when she returned home through night +and storm, and in such anguish of mind, that she wept all night; and the +weeks of unexplained, unaccountable distress that followed this! All +these things Miriam recalled, and studied if by any means they might +direct her in the discovery of the guilty. + +And her faithful study had ended in her assurance of one or two +facts--or one or two links, perhaps, we should say, in the chain of +evidence. The first was, that Marian's mysterious lover had been present +in the neighborhood, and perhaps, in the mansion at the time of the +house-warming at Luckenough--that he had met her once or more, and that +his name was not Thomas Truman--that the latter was an assumed name, +for, with all her observation and astute investigation, she had not been +able to find that any one of the name of Truman had ever been seen or +heard of in the county. + +She was sure, also, that she had seen the man twice, both times in night +and storm, when she had wandered forth in search of Marian. + +She remembered well the strange figure of that man--the tall form +shrouded in the black cloak--the hat drawn over the eyes--the faint +spectral gleam of the clear-cut profile--the peculiar fall of light and +shade, the decided individuality of air and gait--all was distinct as a +picture in her memory, and she felt sure that she would be able to +identify that man again. + +Up to this time, the thought of her secret vow, and her life's mission, +had afforded only a romantic and heroic excitement; but the day was fast +approaching when these indexes she retained, should point to a clue that +should lead through a train of damning circumstantial evidence destined +to test her soul by an unexampled trial. + +Paul Douglass had grown up to be a tall and handsome youth, of a very +noble, frank, attractive countenance and manners. To say that he loved +Miriam is only to say that he loved himself. She mingled with every +thought, and feeling, and purpose of his heart. + +And when, at last, the time came that Paul had to leave home for +Baltimore, to remain absent all winter, for the purpose of attending the +course of lectures at the medical college, Miriam learned the pain of +parting, and understood how impossible happiness would be for her, with +Paul away, on naval or military duty, more than half their lives, and +for periods of two, three, or five years; and after that she never said +another word in favor of his wearing Uncle Sam's livery, although she +had often expressed a wish that he should enter the army. + +Miriam's affection for Paul was so profound and quiet, that she did not +know its depth or strength. As she had not believed that parting from +him would be painful until the event had taught her, so even now she did +not know how intertwined with every chord and fibre of her heart and how +identical with her life, was her love for Paul. She was occupied by a +more enthusiastic devotion to her "brother," as she called her guardian. + +The mysterious sorrow, the incurable melancholy of a man like Thurston +Willcoxen, could not but invest him with peculiar interest and even +strange fascination for one of Miriam's enthusiastic, earnest +temperament. She loved him with more than a daughter's love; she loved +him with all the impassioned earnestness of her nature; her heart +yearned as it would break with its wild, intense longing to do him some +good, to cure his sorrow, to make him happy. There were moments when but +for the sweet shyness that is ever the attendant and conservator of such +pure feeling, this wild desire was strong enough to cast her at his +feet, to embrace his knees, and with tears beseech him to let her into +that dark, sorrowful bosom, to see if she could make any light and joy +there. She feared that he had sinned, that his incurable sorrow was the +gnawing tooth of that worm that never dieth, preying on his heart; but +she doubted, too, for what could he have done to plunge his soul in such +a hell of remorse? He commit a crime? Impossible! the thought was +treason; a sin to be repented of and expiated. His fame was fairest of +the fair, his name most honored among the, honorable. If not remorse, +what then was the nature of his life-long sorrow? Many, many times she +revolved this question in her mind. And as she matured in thought and +affection, the question grew more earnest and importunate. Oh, that he +would unburden his heart to her; oh! that she might share and alleviate +his griefs. If "all earnest desires are prayers," then prayer was +Miriam's "vital breath and native air" indeed; her soul earnestly +desired, prayed, to be able to give her sorrowing brother peace. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +DREAMS AND VISIONS. + + +Winter waned. Mrs. Waugh had attended the commodore to the South, for +the benefit of his health, and they had not yet returned. + +Mrs. Morris and Alice were absent on a long visit to a relative in +Washington City, and were not expected back for a month. Paul remained +in Baltimore, attending the medical lectures. + +The house at Dell-Delight was very sad and lonely. The family consisted +of only Thurston, Fanny and Miriam. + +A change had also passed over poor Fanny's malady. She was no longer the +quaint, fantastical creature, half-lunatic, half-seeress, singing +snatches of wild songs through the house--now here, now there--now +everywhere, awaking smiles and merriment in spite of pity, and keeping +every one alive about her. Her bodily health had failed, her animal +spirits departed; she never sang nor smiled, but sat all day in her +eyrie chamber, lost in deep and concentrated study, her face having the +care-worn look of one striving to recall the past, to gather up and +reunite the broken links of thought, memory and understanding. + +At last, one day, Miriam received a letter from Paul, announcing the +termination, of the winter's course of lectures, the conclusion of the +examination of medical candidates, the successful issue of his own +trial, in the acquisition of his diploma, and finally his speedy return +home. + +Miriam's impulsive nature rebounded from all depressing thoughts, and +she looked forward with gladness to the arrival of Paul. + +He came toward the last of the week. + +Mr. Willcoxen, roused for a moment from his sad abstraction, gave the +youth a warm welcome. + +Miriam received him with a bashful, blushing joy. + +He had passed through Washington City on his way home, and had spent a +day with Mrs. Morris and her friends, and he had brought away strange +news of them. + +Alice, he said, had an accepted suitor, and would probably be a bride +soon. + +A few days after his return, Paul found Miriam in the old wainscoted +parlor seated by the fire. She appeared to be in deep and painful +thought. Her elbow rested on the circular work-table, her head was bowed +upon her hand, and her face was concealed by the drooping black +ringlets. + +"What is the matter, dear, sister?" he asked, in that tender, familiar +tone, with which he sometimes spoke to her. + +"Oh, Paul, I am thinking of our brother! Can nothing soothe or cheer +him, Paul? Can nothing help him? Can we do him no good at all? Oh, Paul! +I brood so much over his trouble! I long so much to comfort him, that I +do believe it is beginning to affect my reason, and make me 'see visions +and dream dreams.' Tell me--do you think anything can be done for him?" + +"Ah, I do not know! I have just left his study, dear Miriam, where I +have had a long and serious conversation with him." + +"And what was it about? May I know?" + +"You must know, dearest Miriam, it concerned yourself and--me!" said +Paul, and he took a seat by her side, and told her how much he loved +her, and that he had Thurston's consent to asking her hand in marriage. + +Miriam replied: + +"Paul, there is one secret that I have never imparted to you--not that I +wished to keep it from you, but that nothing has occurred to call it +out--" + +She paused, while Paul regarded her in much curiosity. + +"What is it, Miriam?" he at last inquired. + +"I promised my dying mother, and sealed the promise with an oath, never +to be a bride until I shall have been--" + +"What, Miriam?" + +"An avenger of blood!" + +"Miriam!" + +It was all he said, and then he remained gazing at her, as if he doubted +her perfect sanity. + +"I am not mad, dear Paul, though you look as if you thought so." + +"Explain yourself, dear Miriam." + +"I am going to do so. You remember Marian Mayfield?" she said, her face +beginning to quiver with emotion. + +"Yes! yes! well?" + +"You remember the time and manner of her death?" + +"Yes--yes!" + +"Oh, Paul! that stormy night death fell like scattering lightning, and +struck three places at once! But, oh, Paul! such was the consternation +and grief excited by the discovery of Marian's assassination, that the +two other sudden deaths passed almost unnoticed, except by the +respective families of the deceased. Child as I then was, Paul, I think +it was the tremendous shock of her sudden and dreadful death, that threw +me entirely out of my center, so that I have been erratic ever since. +She was more than a mother to me, Paul; and if I had been born hers, I +could not have loved her better--I loved her beyond all things in life. +In my dispassionate, reflective moments. I am inclined to believe that I +have never been quite right since the loss of Marian. Not but that I am +reconciled to it--knowing that she must be happy--only, Paul, I often +feel that something is wrong here and here," said Miriam, placing her +hand upon her forehead and upon her heart. + +"But your promise, Miriam--your promise," questioned Paul, with +increased anxiety. + +"Ay, true! Well, Paul, I promised to devote my whole life to the pursuit +and apprehension of her murderer; and never to give room in my bosom to +any thought of love or marriage until that murderer should hang from n +gallows; and I sealed that promise with a solemn oath." + +"That was all very strange, dear Miriam." + +"Paul, yes it was--and it weighs upon me like lead. Paul, if two things +could be lifted off my heart, I should be happy. I should be happy as a +freed bird." + +"And what are they, dear Miriam? What weights are they that I have not +power to lift from your heart?" + +"Surely you may surmise--the first is our brother's sadness that +oppresses my spirits all the time; the second is the memory of that +unaccomplished vow; so equally do these two anxieties divide my +thoughts, that they seem connected--seem to be parts of the same +responsibility--and I even dreamed that the one could be accomplished +only with the other." + +"Dearest Miriam, let me assure you, that such dreams and visions are but +the effect of your isolated life--they come from an over-heated brain +and over-strained nerves. And you must consent to throw off those +self-imposed weights, and be happy and joyous as a young creature +should." + +"Alas, how can I throw them off, dear Paul?" + +"In this way--first, for my brother's life-long sorrow, since you can +neither cure nor alleviate it, turn your thoughts away from it. As for +your vow, two circumstances combine to absolve you from it; the first is +this--that you were an irresponsible infant, when you were required to +make it--the second is, that it is impossible to perform it; these two +considerations fairly release you from its obligations. Look upon these +matters in this rational light, and all your dark and morbid dreams and +visions will disappear; and we shall have you joyous as any young bird, +sure enough. And I assure you, that your cheerfulness will be one of the +very best medicines for our brother. Will you follow my advice?" + +"No, no, Paul! I cannot follow it in either instance! I cannot, Paul! it +is impossible! I cannot steel my heart against sympathy with his +sorrows, nor can I so ignore the requirements of my solemn vow. I do not +by any means think its accomplishment an impossibility, nor was it in +ignorance of its nature that I made it. No, Paul! I knew what I +promised, and I know that its performance is possible. Therefore I can +not feel absolved! I must accomplish my work; and you, Paul, if you love +me, must help me to do it." + +"I would serve you with my life, Miriam, in anything reasonable and +possible. But how can I help you? How can you discharge such an +obligation? You have not even a clue!" + +"Yes, I have a clue, Paul." + +"You have? What is it? Why have you never spoken of it before?" + +"Because of its seeming unimportance. The clue is so slight, that it +would be considered none at all, by others less interested than myself." + +"What is it, then? At least allow me the privilege of knowing, and +judging of its importance." + +"I am about to do so," said Miriam, and she commenced and told him all +she knew, and also all she suspected of the circumstances that preceded +the assassination on the beach. In conclusion, she informed him of the +letters in her possession. + +"And where are now those letters, Miriam? What are they like? What is +their purport? It seems to me that they would not only give a hint, but +afford direct evidence against that demoniac assassin. And it seems +strange to me that they were not examined, with a view to that end." + +"Paul, they were; but they did not point out the writer, even. There was +a note among them--a note soliciting a meeting with Marian, upon the +very evening, and upon the very spot when and where the murder was +committed! But that note contains nothing to indicate the identity of +its author. There are, besides, a number of foreign letters written in +French, and signed 'Thomas Truman,' no French name, by-the-bye, a +circumstance which leads me to believe that it must have been an assumed +one." + +"And those French letters give no indication of the writer, either?" + +"I am not sufficiently acquainted with that language to read it in +manuscript, which, you know, is much more difficult than print. But I +presume they point to nothing definitely, for my dear mother showed them +to Mr. Willcoxen, who took the greatest interest in the discovery of the +murderer, and he told her that those letters afforded not the slightest +clue to the perpetrator of the crime, and that whoever might have been +the assassin, it certainly could not have been the author of those +letters. He wished to take them with him, but mother declined to give +them up; she thought it would be disrespect to Marian's memory to give +her private correspondence up to a stranger, and so she told him. He +then said that of all men, certainly he had the least right to claim +them, and so the matter rested. But mother always believed they held the +key to the discovery of the guilty party; and afterward she left them to +me, with the charge that I should never suffer them to pass from my +possession until they had fulfilled their destiny of witnessing against +the murderer--for whatever Mr. Willcoxen might think, mother felt +convinced that the writer of those letters and the murderer of Marian +was the same person." + +"Tell me more about those letters." + +"Dear Paul, I know nothing more about them; I told you that I was not +sufficiently familiar with the French language to read them." + +"But it is strange that you never made yourself acquainted with their +contents by getting some one else to read them for you." + +"Dear Paul, you know that I was a mere child when they first came into +my possession, accompanied with the charge that I should never part with +them until they had done their office. I felt bound by my promise, I was +afraid of losing them, and of those persons that I could trust none knew +French, except our brother, and he had already pronounced them +irrelevant to the question. Besides, for many reasons, I was shy of +intruding upon brother." + +"Does he know that you have the packet?" + +"I suppose he does not even know that." + +"I confess," said Paul, "that if Thurston believed them to have no +connection with the murder, I have so much confidence in his excellent +judgment, that I am inclined to reverse my hasty opinion, and to think +as he does, at least until I see the letters. I remember, too, that the +universal opinion at the time was that the poor young lady had fallen a +victim to some marauding waterman--the most likely thing to have +happened. But, to satisfy you, Miriam, if you will trust me with those +letters, I will give them a thorough and impartial study, and then, if I +find no clue to the perpetrator of that diabolical deed, I hope, Miriam, +that you will feel yourself free from the responsibility of pursuing the +unknown demon--a pursuit which I consider worse than a wild-goose +chase." + +They were interrupted by the entrance of the boy with the mail bag. Paul +emptied the contents of it upon the table. There were letters for Mr. +Willcoxen, for Miriam, and for Paul himself. Those for Mr. Willcoxen +were sent up to him by the boy. Miriam's letter was from Alice Morris, +announcing her approaching marriage with Olive Murray, a young lawyer of +Washington, and inviting and entreating Miriam to come to the city and +be her bridesmaid. Paul's letters were from some of his medical +classmates. By the time they had read and discussed the contents of +their epistles, a servant came in to replenish the fire and lay the +cloth for tea. + +When Mr. Willcoxen joined them at supper, he laid a letter on Miriam's +lap, informing her that it was from Mrs. Morris, who advised them of her +daughter's intended marriage, and prayed them to be present at the +ceremony. Miriam replied that she had received a communication to the +same effect. + +"Then, my dear, we will go up to Washington and pass a few weeks, and +attend this wedding, and see the inauguration of Gen. ----. You lead too +lonely a life for one of your years, love. I see it affects your health +and spirits. I have been too selfish and oblivious of you, in my +abstraction, dear child; but it shall be so no longer. You shall enter +upon the life better suited to your age." + +Miriam's eyes thanked his care. For many a day Thurston had not come +thus far out of himself, and his doing so now was hailed as a happy omen +by the young people. + +Their few preparations were soon completed, and on the first of March +they went to Washington City. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +DISCOVERIES. + + +On arriving at Washington, our party drove immediately to the Mansion +House, where they had previously secured rooms. + +The city was full of strangers from all parts of the country, drawn +together by the approaching inauguration of one of the most popular +Presidents that ever occupied the White House. + +As soon as our party made known their arrival to their friends, they +were inundated with calls and invitations. Brother clergymen called upon +Mr. Willcoxen, and pressed upon him the freedom of their houses. Alice +Morris and Mrs. Moulton, the relative with whom she was staying, called +upon Miriam, and insisted that she should go home with them, to remain +until after the wedding. But these offers of hospitality were gratefully +declined by the little set, who preferred to remain together at their +hotel. + +The whole scene of metropolitan life, in its most stirring aspect, was +entirely new and highly interesting to our rustic beauty. Amusements of +every description were rife. The theatres, exhibition halls, saloons and +concert rooms held out their most attractive temptations, and night +after night were crowded with the gay votaries of fashion and of +pleasure. While the churches, and lyceums, and lecture-rooms had greater +charms for the more seriously inclined. The old and the young, the grave +and the gay, found no lack of occupation, amusement and instruction to +suit their several tastes or varying moods. The second week of their +visit, the marriage of Alice Morris and Oliver Murray came off, Miriam +serving as bridesmaid, Dr. Douglass as groomsman, and Mr. Willcoxen as +officiating minister. + +But it is not with these marriage festivities that we have to do, but +with the scenes that immediately succeed them. + +From the time of Mr. Willcoxen's arrival in the city, he had not ceased +to exercise his sacred calling. His fame had long before preceded him to +the capital, and since his coming he had been frequently solicited to +preach and to lecture. + +Not from love of notoriety--not from any such ill-placed, vain glory, +but from the wish to relieve some overtasked brother of the heat and +burden of at least one day; and possibly by presenting truth in a newer +and stronger light to do some good, did Thurston Willcoxen, Sabbath +after Sabbath, and evening after evening, preach in the churches or +lecture before the lyceum. Crowds flocked to hear him, the press spoke +highly of his talents and his eloquence, the people warmly echoed the +opinion, and Mr. Willcoxen, against his inclination, became the clerical +celebrity of the day. + +But from all this unsought world-worship he turned away a weary, +sickened, sorrowing man. + +There was but one thing in all "the world outside" that strongly +interested him--it was a "still small voice," a low-toned, sweet music, +keeping near the dear mother earth and her humble children, yet echoed +and re-echoed from sphere to sphere--it was the name of a lady, young, +lovely, accomplished and wealthy, who devoted herself, her time, her +talents and her fortune, to the cause of suffering humanity. + +This young lady, whose beauty, goodness, wisdom, eloquence and powers of +persuasion were rumored to be almost miraculous, had founded schools and +asylums, and had collected by subscription a large amount of money, with +which she was coming to America, to select and purchase a tract of land +to settle a colony of the London poor. This angel girl's name and fame +was a low, sweet echo, as I said before--never noisy, never rising +high--keeping near the ground. People spoke of her in quiet places, and +dropped their voices to gentle tones in mentioning her and her works. +Such was the spell it exercised over them. This lady's name possessed +the strangest fascination for Thurston Willcoxen; he read eagerly +whatever was written of her; he listened with interest to whatever was +spoken of her. Her name! it was that of his loved and lost Marian!--that +in itself was a spell, but that was not the greatest charm--her +character resembled that of his Marian! + +"How like my Marian?" would often be the language of his heart, when +hearing of her deeds. "Even so would my Marian have done--had she been +born to fortune, as this lady was." + +The name was certainly common enough, yet the similarity of both names +and natures inclined him to the opinion that this angel-woman must be +some distant and more fortunate relative of his own lost Marian. He felt +drawn toward the unknown lady by a strong and almost irresistible +attraction; and he secretly resolved to see and know her, and pondered +in his heart ways and means by which he might, with propriety, seek her +acquaintance. + +While thus he lived two lives--the outer life of work and usefulness, +and the inner life of thought and suffering--the young people of his +party, hoping and believing him to be enjoying the honors heaped upon +him, yielded themselves up to the attractions of society. + +Miriam spent much of her time with her friend, Alice Murray. + +One morning, when she called on Alice, the latter invited her visitor up +into her own chamber, and seating her there, said, with a mysterious +air: + +"Do you know, Miriam, that I have something--the strangest thing that +ever was--that I have been wanting to tell you for three or four days, +only I never got an opportunity to do so, because Olly or some one was +always present? But now Olly has gone to court, and mother has gone to +market, and you and I can have a cozy chat to ourselves." + +She stopped to stir the fire, and Miriam quietly waited for her to +proceed. + +"Now, why in the world don't you ask me for my secret? I declare you +take so little interest, and show so little curiosity, that it is not a +bit of fun to hint a mystery to you. Do you want to hear, or don't you? +I assure you it is a tremendous revelation, and it concerns you, too!" + +"What is it, then? I am anxious to hear?" + +"Oh! you do begin to show a little interest; and now, to punish you, I +have a great mind not to tell you; however, I will take pity upon your +suspense; but first, you must promise never, never, n-e-v-e-r to mention +it again--will you promise?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, then, listen. Stop! get a good place to faint first, and then +listen. Are you ready? One, two, three, fire. The Rev. Thurston +Willcoxen is a married man!" + +"What!" + +"Mr. Thurston Willcoxen has been married for eight years past." + +"Pshaw!" + +"Mr. Willcoxen was married eight years ago this spring at a little +Methodist chapel near the navy yard of this city, and by an old +Methodist preacher, of the name of John Berry." + +"You are certainly mad!" + +"I am not mad, most noble 'doubter,' but speak the words of truth and +soberness. Mr. Willcoxen was married privately, when and where I said, +to a beautiful, fair-haired lady, whose name heard in the ritual was +Marian. And my husband, Olly Murray, was the secret witness of that +private marriage." + +A wild scream, that seemed to split the heart from whence it arose, +broke from the lips of Miriam; springing forward, she grasped the wrist +of Alice, and with her wild eyes starting, straining from their sockets, +gazed into he face, crying: + +"Tell me! tell me! that you have jested! tell me that you have lied? +Speak! speak!" + +"I told you the Lord's blessed truth, and Oily knows it. But Miriam, for +goodness sake don't look that way--you scare me almost to death! And, +whatever you do, never let anybody know that I told you this; because, +if you did, Olly would be very much grieved at me; for he confided it to +me as a dead secret, and bound me up to secrecy, too; but I thought as +it concerned you so much, it would be no harm to tell you, if you would +not tell it again; and so when I was promising, I made a mental +reservation in favor of yourself. And so I have told you; and now you +mustn't betray me, Miriam." + +"It is false! all that you have told me is false! say that It is false! +tell me so! speak! speak!" cried Miriam, wildly. + +"It is not false--it is true as Gospel, every word of it--nor is it any +mistake. Because Olly saw the whole thing, and told me all about it. The +way of it was, that Olly overheard them in the Congressional Library +arranging the marriage--the gentleman was going to depart for Europe, +and wished to secure the lady's hand before he went--and at the same +time, for some reason or other, he wished the marriage to be kept +secret. Olly owns that it was none of his business, but that curiosity +got the upper hand of him, so he listened, and he heard them call each +other 'Thurston' and 'Marian'--and when they left the library, he +followed them--and so, unseen, he witnessed the private marriage +ceremony, at which they still answered to the names of 'Thurston' and +'Marian.' He did not hear their surnames. He never saw the bride again; +and he never saw the bridegroom until he saw Mr. Willcoxen at our +wedding. The moment Olly saw him he knew that he had seen him before, +but could not call to mind when or where; and the oftener he looked at +him, the more convinced he became that he had seen him first under some +very singular circumstances. And when at last lie heard his first name +called 'Thurston,' the whole truth flashed on him at once. He remembered +everything connected with the mysterious marriage. I wonder what Mr. +Willcoxen has done with his Marian? or whether she died or whether she +lives? or where he hides her? Well, some men are a mystery--don't you +think so, Miriam?" + +But only deep and shuddering groans, upheaving from the poor girl's +bosom, answered her. + +"Miriam! Oh, don't go on so! what do you mean? Indeed you alarm me! oh, +don't take it so to heart! indeed, I wouldn't, if I were you! I should +think it the funniest kind of fun? Miriam, I say!" + +She answered not--she had sunk down on the floor, utterly crushed by the +weight of misery that had fallen upon her. + +"Miriam! now what in the world do you mean by this? Why do you yield so? +I would not do it. I know it is bad to be disappointed of an expected +inheritance, and to find out that some one else has a greater claim, +but, indeed, I would not take it to heart so, if I were you. Why, if he +is married, he may not have a family, and even if he has, he may not +utterly disinherit you, and even if he should, I would not grieve myself +to death about it if I were you! Miriam, look up, I say!" + +But the hapless girl replied not, heard not, heeded not; deaf, blind, +insensible was she to all--everything but to that sharp, mental grief, +that seemed so like physical pain; that fierce anguish of the breast, +that, like an iron band, seemed to clutch and close upon her heart, +tighter, tighter, tighter, until it stopped the current of her blood, +and arrested her breath, and threw her into convulsions. + +Alice sprang to raise her, then ran down-stairs to procure restoratives +and assistance. In the front hall she met Dr. Douglass, who had just +been admitted by the waiter. To his pleasant greeting, she replied +hastily, breathlessly: + +"Oh, Paul! come--come quickly up stairs! Miriam has fallen into +convulsions, and I am frightened out of my senses!" + +"What caused her illness?" asked Paul, in alarm and anxiety, as he ran +up stairs, preceded by Alice. + +"Oh, I don't know!" answered Alice, but thought to herself: "It could +not have been what I said to her, and if it was, I must not tell." + +The details of sickness are never interesting. I shall not dwell upon +Miriam's illness of several weeks; the doctors pronounced it to be +_angina pectoris_--a fearful and often fatal complaint, brought on in +those constitutionally predisposed to it, by any sudden shock to mind or +body. What could have caused its attack upon Miriam, they could not +imagine. And Alice Murray, in fear and doubt, held her tongue and kept +her own counsel. In all her illness, Miriam's reason was not for a +moment clouded--it seemed preternaturally awake; but she spoke not, and +it was observed that if Mr. Willcoxen, who was overwhelmed with distress +by her dreadful illness, approached her bedside and touched her person, +she instantly fell into spasms. In grief and dismay, Thurston's eyes +asked of all around an explanation of this strange and painful +phenomenon; but none could tell him, except the doctor, who pronounced +it the natural effect of the excessive nervous irritability attending +her disease, and urged Mr. Willcoxen to keep away from her chamber. And +Thurston sadly complied. + +Youth, and an elastic constitution, prevailed over disease, and Miriam +was raised from the bed of death; but so changed in person and in +manner, that you would scarcely have recognized her. She was thinner, +but not paler--an intense consuming fire burned in and out upon her +cheek, and smouldered and flashed from her eye. Self-concentrated and +reserved, she replied not at all, or only in monosyllables, to the words +addressed to her, and withdrew more into herself. + +At length, Dr. Douglass advised their return home. And therefore they +set out, and upon the last of March, approached Dell-Delight. + +The sky was overcast, the ground was covered with snow, the weather was +damp, and very cold for the last of March. As evening drew on, and the +leaden sky lowered, and the chill damp penetrated the comfortable +carriage in which they traveled, Mr. Willcoxen redoubled his attentions +to Miriam, carefully wrapping her cloak and furs about her, and letting +down the leathern blinds and the damask hangings, to exclude the cold; +but Miriam shrank from his touch, and shivered more than before, and +drew closely into her own corner. + +"Poor child, the cold nips and shrivels her as it does a tropical +flower," said Thurston, desisting from his efforts after he had tucked a +woolen shawl around her feet. + +"It is really very unseasonable weather--there is snow in the +atmosphere. I don't wonder it pinches Miriam," said Paul Douglass. + +Ah! they did not either of them know that it was a spiritual fever and +ague alternately burning and freezing her very heart's blood--hope and +fear, love and loathing, pity and horror, that striving together made a +pandemonium of her young bosom. Like a flight of fiery arrows came the +coincidences of the tale she had heard, and the facts she knew. That +spring, eight years before, Mr. Murray said he had, unseen, witnessed +the marriage of Thurston Willcoxen and Marian. That spring, eight years +before, she knew Mr. Willcoxen and Miss Mayfield had been together on a +visit to the capital. Thurston had gone to Europe, Marian had returned +home, but had never seemed the same since her visit to the city. The +very evening of the house-warming at Luckenough, where Marian had +betrayed so much emotion, Thurston had suddenly returned, and presented +himself at that mansion. Yet in all the months that followed she had +never seen Thurston and Marian together, Thurston was paying marked and +constant attention to Miss Le Roy, while Marian's heart was consuming +with a secret sorrow and anxiety that she refused to communicate even to +Edith. How distinctly came back to her mind those nights when, lying by +Marian's side, she had put her hand over upon her face and felt the +tears on her cheeks. Those tears! The recollection of them now, and in +this connection, filled her heart with indescribable emotion. Her +mother, too, had died in the belief that Marian had fallen by the hands +of her lover or her husband. Lastly, upon the same night of Marian's +murder, Thurston Willcoxen had been unaccountably absent, during the +whole night, from the deathbed of his grandfather. And then his +incurable melancholy from that day to this--his melancholy augmented to +anguish at the annual return of this season. + +And then rising, in refutation of all this evidence, was his own +irreproachable life and elevated character. + +Ah! but she had, young, as she was, heard of such cases before--how in +some insanity of selfishness or frenzy of passion, a crime had been +perpetrated by one previously and afterward irreproachable in conduct. +Piercing wound after wound smote these thoughts like swift coming +arrows. + +A young, immature woman, a girl of seventeen, in whose warm nature +passion and imagination so largely predominated over intellect, was but +too liable to have her reason shaken from its seat by the ordeal through +which she was forced to go. + +As night descended, and they drew near Dell-Delight, the storm that had +been lowering all the afternoon came upon them. The wind, the hail, and +the snow, and the snow-drifts continually forming, rendered the roads, +that were never very good, now nearly impassable. + +More and more obstructed, difficult and unrecognizable became their way, +until at last, when within an eighth of a mile from the house, the +horses stepped off the road into a covered gully, and the carriage was +over-turned and broken. + +"Miriam! dear Miriam! dear child, are you hurt?" was the first anxious +exclamation of both gentlemen. + +No one was injured; the coach lay upon its left side, and the right side +door was over their heads. Paul climbed out first, and then gave his +hand to Miriam, whom Mr. Willcoxen assisted up to the window. Lastly +followed Thurston. The horses had kicked themselves free of the carriage +and stood kicking yet. + +"Two wheels and the pole are broken--nothing can be done to remove the +carriage to-night. You had better leave the horses where they are, Paul, +and let us hurry on to get Miriam under shelter first, then we can send +some one to fetch them home." + +They were near the park gate, and the road from there to the mansion was +very good. Paul was busy in bundling Miriam up in her cloak, shawls and +furs. And then Mr. Willcoxen approached to raise her in his arms, and +take her through the snow; but-- + +"No! no!" said Miriam, shuddering and crouching closely to Paul. Little +knowing her thoughts, Mr. Willcoxen slightly smiled, and pulling his hat +low over his eyes, and turning up his fur collar and wrapping his cloak +closely around him, he strode on rapidly before them. The snow was +blowing in their faces, but drawing Miriam fondly to his side, Paul +hurried after him. + +When they reached the park gate, Thurston was laboring to open it +against the drifted snow. He succeeded, and pushed the gate back to let +them pass. Miriam, as she went through, raised her eyes to his form. + +There he stood, in night and storm, his tall form shrouded in the long +black cloak--the hat drawn over his eyes, the faint spectral gleam of +the snow striking upward to his clear-cut profile, the peculiar fall of +ghostly light and shade, the strong individuality of air and attitude. + +With a half-stifled shriek, Miriam recognized the distinct picture of +the man she had seen twice before with Marian. + +"What is the matter, love? Were you near falling? Give me your arm, +Miriam--you need us both to help you through this storm," said Thurston, +approaching her. + +But with a shiver that ran through all her frame, Miriam shrank closer +to Paul, who, with affectionate pride, renewed his care, and promised +that she should not slip again. + +So link after link of the fearful evidence wound itself around her +consciousness, which struggled against it, like Laocoon in the fatal +folds of the serpent. + +Now cold as if the blood were turned to ice in her veins, now burning as +if they ran fire, she was hurried on into the house. + +They were expected home, and old Jenny had fires in all the occupied +rooms, and supper ready to go on the table, that was prepared in the +parlor. + +But Miriam refused all refreshment, and hurried to her room. It was +warmed and lighted by old Jenny's care, and the good creature followed +her young mistress with affectionate proffers of aid. + +"Wouldn't she have a strong cup of tea? Wouldn't she have a hot bath? +Wouldn't she have her bed warmed? Wouldn't she have a bowl of nice hot +mulled wine? Dear, dear! she was so sorry, but it would have frightened +herself to death if the carriage had upset with her, and no wonder Miss +Miriam was knocked up entirely." + +"No, no, no!" + +Miriam would have nothing, and old Jenny reluctantly left her--to +repose? Ah, no! with fever in her veins, to walk up and down and up and +down the floor of her room with fearful unrest. Up and down, until the +candle burned low, and sunk drowned in its socket; until the fire on the +hearth smouldered and went out; until the stars in the sky waned with +the coming day; until the rising sun kindled all the eastern horizon; +and then, attired as she was, she sank upon the outside of her bed and +fell into a heavy sleep of exhaustion. + +She arose unrefreshed, and after a hasty toilet descended to the +breakfast-parlor, where she knew the little family awaited her. + +"The journey and the fright have been too much for you, love; you look +very weary; you should have rested longer this morning," said Mr. +Willcoxen, affectionately, as he arose and met her and led her to the +most comfortable seat near the fire. + +His fine countenance, elevated, grave and gentle in expression, his kind +and loving manner, smote all the tender chords of Miriam's heart. + +Could that man be guilty of the crime she had dared to suspect him of? + +Oh, no, no, no! never! Every lineament of his face, every inflection of +his voice, as well as every act of his life, and every trait of his +character, forbade the dreadful imputation! + +But then the evidence--the damning evidence! Her reeled with the doubt +as she sank into the seat he offered her. + +"Ring for breakfast, Paul! Our little housekeeper will feel better when +she gets a cup of coffee." + +But Miriam sprang up to anticipate him, and drew her chair to the table, +and nervously began to arrange the cups and put sugar and cream into +them, with the vague feeling that she must act as usual to avoid calling +observation upon herself, for if questioned, how could she answer +inquiries, and whom could she make a confidant in her terrible +suspicions? + +And so through the breakfast scene, and so through the whole day she +sought to exercise self-control. But could her distress escape the +anxious, penetrating eyes of affection? That evening after tea, when Mr. +Willcoxen had retired to his own apartments and the waiter had +replenished the fire and trimmed the lamps and retired, leaving the +young couple alone in the parlor--Miriam sitting on one side of the +circular work-table bending over her sewing, and Paul on the other side +with a book in his hand, he suddenly laid the volume down, and went +round and drew a chair to Miriam's side and began to tell her how much +he loved her, how dear her happiness was to him, and so entreat her to +tell him the cause of her evident distress. As he spoke, she became +paler than death, and suddenly and passionately exclaimed: + +"Oh, Paul! Paul! do not question me! You know not what you ask." + +"My own Miriam, what mean you? I ought to know." + +"Oh, Paul! Paul! I am one foredoomed to bring misery and destruction +upon all who love me; upon all whom I love." + +"My own dearest, you are ill, and need change, and you shall have it, +Miriam," he said, attempting to soothe her with that gentle, tender, +loving manner he ever used toward her. + +But shuddering sighs convulsed her bosom, and-- + +"Oh, Paul! Paul!" was all she said. + +"Is it that promise that weighs upon your mind, Miriam? Cast it out; you +cannot fulfill it; impossibilities are not duties." + +"Oh, Paul! would Heaven it were impossible! or that I were dead." + +"Miriam! where are those letters you wished to show me?" + +"Oh! do not ask me, Paul! not yet! not yet! I dread to see them. And +yet--who knows? they may relieve this dreadful suspicion! they may point +to another probability," she said, incoherently. + +"Just get me those letters, dear Miriam," he urged, gently. + +She arose, tottering, and left the room, and after an absence of fifteen +minutes returned with the packet in her hand. + +"These seals have not been broken since my mother closed them," said +Miriam, as she proceeded to open the parcel. + +The first she came to was the bit of a note, without date or signature, +making the fatal appointment. + +"This, Paul," she said, mournfully, "was found in the pocket of the +dress Marian wore at Luckenough, but changed at home before she went out +to walk the evening of her death. Mother always believed that she went +out to meet the appointment made in that note." + +Paul took the paper with eager curiosity to examine it. He looked at +it, started slightly, turned pale, shuddered, passed his hand once or +twice across his eyes, as if to clear his vision, looked again, and then +his cheeks blanched, his lips gradually whitened and separated, his eyes +started, and his whole countenance betrayed consternation and horror. + +Miriam gazed upon him in a sort of hushed terror--then exclaimed: + +"Paul! Paul! what is the matter? You look as if you had been turned to +stone by gazing on the Gorgon's head; Paul! Paul!" + +"Miriam, did your mother know this handwriting?" he asked, in a husky, +almost inaudible voice. + +"No!" + +"Did she suspect it?" + +"No!" + +"Did you know or suspect it?" + +"No! I was a child when I received it, remember. I have never seen it +since." + +"Not when you put it in my hand, just now?" + +"No, I never looked at the writing?" + +"That was most strange that you should not have glanced at the +handwriting when you handed it to me. Why didn't you? Were you afraid to +look at it? Miram! why do you turn away your head? Miriam! answer me--do +you know the handwriting?" + +"No, Paul, I do not know it--do you?" + +"No! no! how should I? But Miriam, your head is still averted. Your very +voice is changed. Miriam! what mean you? Tell me once for all. Do you +suspect the handwriting?" + +"How should I? Do you, Paul?" + +"No! no! I don't suspect it." + +They seemed afraid to look each other in the face; and well they might +be, for the written agony on either brow; they seemed afraid to hear the +sound of each other's words; and well they might be, for the hollow, +unnatural sound of either voice. + +"It cannot be! I am crazy, I believe. Let me clear my--oh, Heaven! +Miriam! did--was--do you know whether there was any one in particular on +familiar terms with Miss Mayfield?" + +"No one out of the family, except Miss Thornton." + +"'Out of the family'--out of what family?" + +"Ours, at the cottage." + +"Was--did--I wonder if my brother knew her intimately?" + +"I do not know; I never saw them in each other's company but twice in my +life." + +The youth breathed a little freer. + +"Why did you ask, Paul?" + +"No matter, Miriam. Oh! I was a wretch, a beast to think--" + +"What, Paul?" + +"There are such strange resemblances in--in--in--What are you looking at +me so for, Miriam?" + +"To find your meaning. In what, Paul--strange resemblances in what?" + +"Why, in faces." + +"Why, then, so there are--and in persons, also; and sometimes in fates; +but we were talking of handwritings, Paul." + +"Were we? Oh, true. I am not quite right, Miriam. I believe I have +confined myself too much, and studied too hard. I am really out of +sorts; never mind me! Please hand me those foreign letters, love." + +Miriam was unfolding and examining them; but all in a cold, stony, +unnatural way. + +"Paul," she asked, "wasn't it just eight years this spring since your +brother went to Scotland to fetch you?" + +"Yes; why?" + +"Wasn't it to Glasgow that he went?" + +"Yes; why?" + +"Were not you there together in March and April, 182-?" + +"Once more, yes! Why do you inquire?" + +"Because all these foreign letters directed to Marian are postmarked +Glasgow, and dated March or April, 182-." + +With a low, stifled cry, and a sudden spring, he snatched the packet +from her hand, tore open the first letter that presented itself, and ran +his strained, bloodshot eyes down the lines. Half-suppressed, deep +groans like those wrung by torture from a strong man's heart, burst from +his pale lips, and great drops of sweat gathered on his agonized +forehead. Then he crushed the letters together in his hand and held them +tightly, unconsciously, while his starting eyes were fixed on vacancy +and his frozen lips muttered: + +"In a fit of frantic passion, anger, jealousy--even he might have been +maddened to the pitch of doing such a thing! But as an act of base +policy, as an act of forethought, oh! never, never, never!" + +"Paul! Paul! speak to me, Paul. Tell me what you think. I have had +foreshadowings long. I can bear silence and uncertainty no longer. What +find you in those letters? Oh, speak, or my heart will burst, Paul." + +He gave no heed to her or her words, but remained like one impaled; +still, fixed, yet writhing, his features, his whole form and expression +discolored, distorted with inward agony. + +"Paul! Paul!" cried Miriam, starting up, standing before him, gazing on +him. "Paul! speak to me. Your looks kill me. Speak, Paul! even though +you can tell me little new. I know it all, Paul; or nearly all. Weeks +ago I received the shock! it overwhelmed me for the time; but I survived +it! But you, Paul--you! Oh! how you look! Speak to your sister, Paul! +Speak to your promised wife." + +But he gave no heed to her. She was not strong or assured--she felt +herself tottering on the very verge of death or madness. But she could +not bear to see him looking so. Once more she essayed to engage his +attention. + +"Give me those letters, Paul--I can perhaps make out the meaning." + +As he did not reply, she gently sought to take them from his hand. But +at her touch he suddenly started up and threw the packet into the fire. +With a quick spring, Miriam darted forward, thrust her hand into the +fire and rescued the packet, scorched and burning, but not destroyed. + +She began to put it out, regardless of the pain to her hands. He looked +as if he were tempted to snatch it from her, but she exclaimed: + +"No, Paul! no! You will not use force to deprive me of this that I must +guard as a sacred trust." + +Still Paul hesitated, and eyed the packet with a gloomy glance. + +"Remember honor, Paul, even in this trying moment," said Miriam; "let +honor be saved, if all else be lost." + +"What do you mean to do with that parcel?" he asked in a hollow voice. + +"Keep them securely for the present." + +"And afterward?" + +"I know not." + +"Miriam, you evade my questions. Will you promise me one thing?" + +"What is that?" + +"Promise me to do nothing with those letters until you have further +evidence." + +"I promise you that." + +Then Paul took up a candle and left the room, as if to go to his +sleeping apartment; but on reaching the hall, he threw down and +extinguished the light and rushed as if for breath out into the open +air. + +The night was keen and frosty, the cold, slaty sky was thickly studded +with sparkling stars, the snow was crusted over--it was a fine, fresh, +clear, wintry night; at another time it would have invigorated and +inspired him; now the air seemed stifling, the scene hateful. + +The horrible suspicion of his brother's criminality had entered his +heart for the first time, and it had come with the shock of certainty. +The sudden recognition of the handwriting, the strange revelations of +the foreign letters, had not only in themselves been a terrible +disclosure, but had struck the whole "electric chain" of memory and +association, and called up in living force many an incident and +circumstance heretofore strange and incomprehensible; but now only too +plain and indicative. The whole of Thurston's manner the fatal day of +the assassination--his abstraction, his anxious haste to get away on the +plea of most urgent business in Baltimore--business that never was +afterward heard of; his mysterious absence of the whole night from his +grandfather's deathbed--provoking conjecture at the time, and +unaccounted for to this day; his haggard and distracted looks upon +returning late the next morning; his incurable sorrow; his habit of +secluding himself upon the anniversary of that crime--and now the +damning evidence in these letters! Among them, and the first he looked +at, was the letter Thurston had written Marian to persuade her to +accompany him to France, in the course of which his marriage with her +was repeatedly acknowledged, being incidentally introduced as an +argument in favor of her compliance with his wishes. + +Yet Paul could not believe the crime ever premeditated--it was sudden, +unintentional, consummated in a lover's quarrel, in a fit of jealousy, +rage, disappointment, madness! Stumbling upon half the truth, he said to +himself: + +"Perhaps failing to persuade her to fly with him to France, he had +attempted to carry her off, and being foiled, had temporarily lost his +self-control, his very sanity. That would account for all that had +seemed so strange in his conduct the day and night of the assassination +and the morning after." + +There was agony--there was madness in the pursuit of the investigation. +Oh, pitying Heaven! how thought and grief surged and seethed in aching +heart and burning brain! + +And Miriam's promise to her dying mother--Miriam's promise to bring the +criminal to justice! Would she--could she now abide by its obligations? +Could she prosecute her benefactor, her adopted brother, for murder? +Could her hand be raised to hurl him down from his pride of place to +shame and death? No, no, no, no! the vow must be broken, must be evaded; +the right, even if it were the right, must be transgressed, heaven +offended--anything! anything! anything but the exposure and sacrifice of +their brother! If he had sinned, had he not repented? Did he not suffer? +What right had she, his ward, his _protégé_, his child, to punish him? +"Vengeance is mine--I will repay, saith the Lord." No, Miriam must not +keep her vow! She must! she must! she must, responded the moral sense, +slow, measured, dispassionate, as the regular fall of a clock's hammer. +"I will myself prevent her; I will find means, arguments and persuasions +to act upon her. I will so appeal to her affections, her gratitude, her +compassion, her pride, her fears, her love for me--I will so work upon +her heart that she will not find courage to keep her vow." She will! she +will! responded the deliberate conscience. + +And so he walked up and down; vainly the fresh wind fanned his fevered +brow; vainly the sparkling stars glanced down from holy heights upon +him; he found no coolness for his fever in the air, no sedative for his +anxiety in the stillness, no comfort for his soul in the heavens; he +knew not whether he were indoors or out, whether it were night or day, +summer or winter, he knew not, wrapped as he was in the mantle of his +own sad thoughts, suffering as he was in the purgatory of his inner +life. + +While Paul walked up and down, like a maniac, Miriam returned to her +room to pace the floor until nearly morning, when she threw herself, +exhausted, upon the bed, fell into a heavy sleep, and a third time, +doubtless from nervous excitement or prostration, suffered a repetition +of her singular vision, and awoke late in the morning, with the words, +"perform thy vow," ringing in her ears. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +THE AVENGER. + + +Several days passed in the gloomy mansion misnamed Dell-Delight. Miriam +and Paul avoided each other like death. Both dreaded like death any +illusion to the awful subject that lay so heavy upon the heart of each. +Paul, unacquainted with her thoughts, and relying upon her promise to do +nothing with the letters without further evidence, contented himself +with watching her motions, feeling comparatively at ease as long as she +should remain in the house; and being resolved to prevent her from going +forth, or to accompany her if she persisted in leaving home. + +With Miriam, the shock, the anguish, the struggle had well-nigh passed; +she was at once subdued and resolved, like one into whom some spirit had +entered and bound her own spirit, and acted through her. So strange did +all appear to her, so strange the impassiveness of her own will, of her +habits and affections, that should have rebelled and warred against her +purpose that she sometimes thought herself not herself, or insane, or +the subject of a monomania, or some strange hallucination, a dreamer, a +somnambulist, perhaps. And yet with matchless tact and discretion, she +went about her deadly work. She had prepared her plan of action, and now +waited only for a day very near at hand, the fourth of April, the +anniversary of Marian's assassination, to put Thurston to a final test +before proceeding further. + +The day came at last--it was cold and wintry for the season. Toward +evening the sky became overcast with leaden clouds, and the chill +dampness penetrated into all the rooms of the old mansion. Poor Fanny +was muttering and moaning to herself and her "spirits" over the wood +fire in her distant room. + +Mr. Willcoxen had not appeared since breakfast time. Miriam remained in +her own chamber; and Paul wandered restlessly from place to place +through all the rooms of the house, or threw himself wearily into his +chair before the parlor fire. Inclement as the weather was, he would +have gone forth, but that he too remembered the anniversary, and a +nameless anxiety connected with Miriam confined him to the house. + +In the kitchen, the colored folk gathered around the fire, grumbling at +the unseasonable coldness of the weather, and predicting a hail-storm, +and telling each other that they never "'sperienced" such weather this +time o' year, 'cept 'twas that spring Old Marse died--when no wonder, +"'siderin' how he lived long o' Sam all his life." + +Only old Jenny went in and out from house to kitchen, Old Jenny had +enough to do to carry wood to the various fires. She had never "seed it +so cold for de season nyther, 'cept 'twas de spring Miss Marian went to +hebben, and not a bit o' wonder de yeth was cole arter she war gone--de +dear, lovin' heart warm angel; 'deed I wondered how it ever come summer +again, an' thought it was right down onsensible in her morning-glories +to bloom out jest de same as ever, arter she was gone! An' what minds me +to speak o' Miss Marian now, it war jes' seven years this night, since +she 'parted dis life," said Jenny, as she stood leaning her head upon +the mantel-piece, and toasting her toes at the kitchen fire, previous to +carrying another armful of wood into the parlor. + +Night and the storm descended together--such a tempest! such a wild +outbreaking of the elements! rain and hail, and snow and wind, all +warring upon the earth together! The old house shook, the doors and +windows rattled, the timbers cracked, the shingles were torn off and +whirled aloft, the trees were swayed and snapped; and as the storm +increased in violence and roused to fury, the forest beat before its +might, and the waves rose and overflowed the low land. + +Still old Jenny went in and out of the house to kitchen and kitchen to +house, carrying wood, water, meat, bread, sauce, sweetmeats, arranging +the table for supper, replenishing the fire, lighting the candles, +letting down the curtains--and trying to make everything cozy and +comfortable for the reassembling of the fireside circle. Poor old Jenny +had passed so much of her life in the family with "the white folks," +that all her sympathies went with them--and on the state of their +spiritual atmosphere depended all her cheerfulness and comfort; and now +the cool, distant, sorrowful condition of the members of the little +family circle--"ebery single mudder's son and darter ob 'em, +superamblated off to derself like pris'ners in a jailhouse"--as she +said--depressed her spirits very much. Jenny's reaction from depression +was always quite querulous. And toward the height of the storm, there +was a reaction and she grew very quarrelsome. + +"Sam's waystin'[A] roun' in dere," said Jenny, as she thrust her feet +into the kitchen fire, before carrying in the urn; "Sam's waystin', I +tells you all good! all werry quiet dough--no noise, no fallin' out, no +'sputin' nor nothin'--all quiet as de yeth jest afore a debbil ob a +storm--nobody in de parlor 'cept 'tis Marse Paul, settin' right afore de +parlor fire, wid one long leg poked east and toder west, wid the boots +on de andirons like a spread-eagle! lookin' as glum as if I owed him a +year's sarvice, an' nebber so much as a-sayin', 'Jenny, you poor old +debbil, ain't you a-cold?' an' me coming in ebery minnit wid the icicles +a-jinglin' 'roun' my linsey-woolsey skurts, like de diamonds on de +Wirgin Mary's Sunday gown. But Sam's waystin' now, I tells you all good. +Lors Gemini, what a storm! + +[Footnote A: Waysting--Going up and down.] + +"I 'members of no sich since dat same storm as de debbil come in to +fetch ole marse's soul--dis berry night seven year past, an' he carried +of him off all in a suddint whiff! jist like a puff of win'. An' no +wonder, seein' how he done traded his soul to him for money! + +"An' Sam's here ag'in to-night! dunno who he's come arter! but he's +here, now, I tells you all good!" said Jenny, as she took up the urn to +carry it into the parlor. + +When she got there she could scarcely get to the fire; Paul took up the +front. His immobility and unconsciousness irritated Jenny beyond silent +endurance. + +"I tell you all what," she said, "I means to 'sign my sitewation! 'deed +me! I can't kill myself for dem as wouldn't even care 'nough for me to +have a mass said for de 'pose o' my soul." + +"What do you mean?" asked Paul, angrily, for confinement, solitude, bad +weather, and anxiety, had combined, to make him querulous, too. + +"I means how ef yer doesn't have a kivered way made from de house to de +kitchen an' back ag'in, I gwine give up waitin' on de table, now min' I +tell yer, 'deed me! an' now ef you likes, yer may jes' go an' tell Marse +Rooster." + +"'Marse Rooster!' Will you ever give up that horrid nonsense. Why, you +old--! Is my brother--is your master a barn-door chicken-cock, that you +call him 'Rooster?'" asked the young man, snappishly. + +"Well, Shrooster, den, ef you wants me to wring my tongue in two. Ef +people's sponsors in baptism will gib der chillun such heathen names, +how de debbil any Christian 'oman gwine to twis' her tongue roun' it? I +thanks my 'Vine Marster dat my sponsors in baptism named me arter de +bressed an' holy S'int Jane--who has 'stained an' s'ported me all my +days; an' 'ill detect now, dough you do try to break my poor ole heart +long wid onkindness at my ole ages o' life! But what's de use o' +talkin'--Sam's waystin'!" And so saying, Jenny gave the finishing +touches to the arrangement of the table, and then seized the bell, and +rang it with rather needless vigor and violence, to bring the scattered +members of the family together. + +They came, slowly and singly, and drew around the table more like ghosts +than living persons, a few remarks upon the storm, and then they sunk +into silence--and as soon as the gloomy meal was over, one by one they +dropped away from the room--first went poor Fanny, then Mr. Willcoxen, +then Miriam. + +"Where are you going, Miriam?" asked Paul, as the latter was leaving the +room. + +"To my chamber." + +And before he could farther question, or longer detain her, she pressed +his hand and went out. And Paul, with a deep sigh and a strangely +foreboding heart, sank back into his seat. + +When Miriam reached her bedroom, she carefully closed and locked the +door, went to her bureau, opened the top-drawer, and took from it a +small oblong mahogany glove-box. She unlocked the latter, and took out a +small parcel, which she unwrapped and laid before her upon the bureau. + +It was the xyphias poniard. + +The weapon had come into her possession some time before in the +following manner: During the first winter of Paul Douglass' absence from +home, Mr. Willcoxen had emancipated several of his slaves and provided +means for their emigration to Liberia. They were to sail early in March. +Among the number was Melchisedek. A few days previous to their +departure, this man had come to the house, and sought the presence of +his youthful mistress, when he knew her to be alone in the parlor, and +with a good deal of mystery and hesitation had laid before her a dagger +which he said he should rather have given to "Marster Paul," if the +latter had been at home. He had picked it up near the water's edge on +the sands the night of Miss Mayfield's death, which "Marster" had taken +so to heart, that he was afraid to harrow up his feelings by bringing it +to him a second time--but that as it was an article of value, he did not +like to take it away with him. And he begged Miss Miriam to take charge +of it. And Miriam had taken it, and with surprise, but without the +slightest suspicion, had read the name of "Thurston Willcoxen" carved +upon its handle. To all her questions, Melchisedek had given evasive +answers, or remained obstinately silent, being determined not to betray +his master's confidence by revealing his share in the events of that +fatal night. Miriam had taken the little instrument, wrapped it +carefully in paper, and locked it in her old-fashioned long glove-box. +And from that day to this she had not opened it. + +Now, however, she had taken it out with a fixed purpose, and she stood +and gazed upon it. Presently she took it up, rolled it in the paper, +took her lamp, and slowly left her room, and passed along the passages +leading to Mr. Willcoxen's library. + +The storm howled and raved as she went, and the strong blast, driving +through the dilapidated window-sashes, nearly extinguished her light +before she reached the study door. + +She blew out the light and set down the lamp, and rapped at the door. +Again and again she rapped, without awakening any response from within. + +Then she turned the latch, opened the door, and entered. No wonder she +had received no answer. + +The abstracted man before her seemed dead to every sight and sound +around him. He sat before the table in the middle of the room, his elbow +on the mahogany; his face bowed upon his hand, his haggard countenance +revealing a still, speechless despair as awful as it was profound. + +Miriam approached and stood by him, her breath went by his cheek, so +near she stood, and yet her presence was unheeded. She stooped to see +the object upon which he gazed--the object that now shut out all the +world from his sight--it was a long bright tress of golden auburn hair. + +"Mr. Willcoxen!" + +He did not hear her--how should he hear her low tones, when he heard not +the cannonading of the storm that shook the house to its foundations? + +"Mr. Willcoxen!" she said once more. + +But he moved not a muscle. + +"Mr. Willcoxen!" she repeated, laying her hand upon his arm. + +He looked up. The expression of haggard despair softened out of his +countenance. + +"Is it you, my dear?" he said. "What has brought you here, Miriam? Were +you afraid of the storm? There is no danger, dear child--it has nearly +expended its force, and will soon be over--but sit down." + +"Oh, no! it is not the storm that has brought me here, though I scarcely +remember a storm so violent at this season of the year, except one--this +night seven years ago--the night that Marian Mayfield was murdered!" + +He started--it is true that he had been thinking of the same dread +tragedy--but to hear it suddenly mentioned pierced him like an +unexpected sword thrust. + +Miriam proceeded, speaking in a strange, level monotone, as if unwilling +or afraid to trust her voice far: + +"I came this evening to restore a small but costly article of _virtu_, +belonging to you, and left in my care some time ago by the boy +Melchisedek. It is an antique dagger--somewhat rusty and spotted. Here +it is." + +And she laid the poniard down upon the tress of hair before him. + +He sprang up as if it had been a viper--his whole frame shook, and the +perspiration started from his livid forehead. + +Miriam, keeping her eye upon him, took the dagger up. + +"It is very rusty, and very much streaked," she said. "I wonder what +these dark streaks can be? They run along the edge, from the extreme +point of the blade, upwards toward the handle; they look to me like the +stains of blood--as if a murderer had stabbed his victim with it, and in +his haste to escape had forgotten to wipe the blade, but had left the +blood upon it, to curdle and corrode the steel. See! don't it look so to +you?" she said, approaching him, and holding the weapon up to his view. + +"Girl! girl! what do you mean?" he exclaimed, throwing his hand across +his eyes, and hurrying across the room. + +Miriam flung down the weapon with a force that made its metal ring upon +the floor, and hastening after him, she stood before him; her dark eyes +fixed upon his, streaming with insufferable and consuming fire, that +seemed to burn through into his brain. She said: + +"I have heard of fiends in the human shape, nay, I have heard of Satan +in the guise of an angel of light! Are you such that stand before me +now?" + +"Miriam, what do you mean?" he asked, in sorrowful astonishment. + +"This is what I mean! That the mystery of Marian Mayfield's fate, the +secret of your long remorse, is no longer hidden! I charge you with the +murder of Marian Mayfield!" + +"Miriam, you are mad!" + +"Oh! well for me, and better still for you, if I were mad!" + +He was tremendously shaken, more by the vivid memories she recalled than +by the astounding charge she made. + +"In the name of Heaven, what leads you to imagine such impossible +guilt!" + +"Good knowledge of the facts--that this month, eight years ago, in the +little Methodist chapel of the navy yard, in Washington City, you made +Marian Mayfield your wife--that this night seven years since, in just +such a storm as this, on the beach below Pine Bluff, you met and +murdered Marian Willcoxen! And, moreover, I as sure you, that these +facts which I tell you now, to-morrow I will lay before a magistrate, +together with all the corroborating proof in my possession!" + +"And what proof can you have?" + +"A gentleman who, unknown and unsuspected, witnessed the private +ceremony between yourself and Marian; a packet of French letters, +written by yourself from Glasgow, to Marian, in St. Mary's, in the +spring of 1823; a note found in the pocket of her dress, appointing the +fatal meeting on the beach where she perished. Two physicians, who can +testify to your unaccountable absence from the deathbed of your parent +on the night of the murder, and also to the distraction of your manner +when you returned late the next morning." + +"And this," said Thurston, gazing in mournful amazement upon her; "this +is the child that I have nourished and brought up in my house! She can +believe me guilty of such atrocious crime--she can aim at my honor and +my life such a deadly blow?" + +"Alas! alas! it is my duty! it is my fate! I cannot escape it! I have +bound my soul by a fearful oath! I cannot evade it! I shall not survive +it! Oh, all the heaven is black with doom, and all the earth tainted +with blood!" cried Miriam, wildly. + +"You are insane, poor girl! you are insane!" said Thurston, pityingly. + +"Would Heaven I were! would Heaven I were! but I am not! I am not! Too +well I remember I have bound my soul by an oath to seek out Marian's +destroyer, and deliver him up to death! And I must do it! I must do it! +though my heart break--as it will break in the act!" + +"And you believe me to be guilty of this awful crime!" + +"There stands the fearful evidence! Would Heaven it did not exist! oh! +would Heaven it did not!" + +"Listen to me, dear Miriam," he said, calmly, for he had now recovered +his self-possession. "Listen to me--I am perfectly guiltless of the +crime you impute to me. How is it possible that I could be otherwise +than guiltless. Hear me explain the circumstances that have come to your +knowledge," and he attempted to take her hand to lead her to a seat. But +with a slight scream, she snatched her hand away, saying wildly: + +"Touch me not! Your touch thrills me to sickness! to faintness! +curdles--turns back the current of blood in my veins!" + +"You think this hand a blood-stained one?" + +"The evidence! the evidence!" + +"I can explain that evidence. Miriam, my child, sit down--at any +distance from me you please--only let it be near enough for you to +hear. Did I believe you quite sane, Miriam, grief and anger might +possibly seal my lips upon this subject--but believing you partially +deranged--from illness and other causes--I will defend myself to you. +Sit down and hear me." + +Miriam dropped into the nearest chair. + +Mr. Willcoxen took another, and commenced: + +"You have received some truth, Miriam. How it has been presented to you, +I will not ask now. I may presently. I was married, as you have somehow +ascertained, to Marian Mayfield, just before going to Europe. I +corresponded with her from Glasgow. I did appoint a meeting with her on +the beach, upon the fatal evening in question--for what purpose that +meeting was appointed, it is bootless to tell you, since the meeting +never took place--for some hours before I should have set out to keep my +appointment, my grandfather was stricken with apoplexy. I did not wish +to leave his bedside until the arrival of the doctor. But when the +evening wore on, and the storm approached, I grew uneasy upon Marian's +account, and sent Melchisedek in the gig to fetch her from the beach to +this house--never to leave it. Miriam, the boy reached the sands only to +find her dying. Terrified half out of his senses, he hurried back and +told me this story. I forgot my dying relative--forgot everything, but +that my wife lay wounded and exposed on the beach. I sprung upon +horseback, and galloped with all possible haste to the spot. By the time +I had got there the storm had reached its height, and the beach was +completely covered with the boiling waves. My Marian had been carried +away. I spent the wretched night in wandering up and down the bluff +above the beach, and calling on her name. In the morning I returned home +to find my grandfather dead, and the family and physicians wondering at +my strange absence at such a time. That, Miriam, is the story." + +Miriam made no comment whatever. Mr. Willcoxen seemed surprised and +grieved at her silence. + +"What have you now to say, Miriam?" + +"Nothing." + +"'Nothing?' What do you think of my explanation?" + +"I think nothing. My mind is in an agony of doubt and conjecture. I must +be governed by stern facts--not by my own prepossessions. I must act +upon the evidences in my possession--not upon your explanation of them," +said Miriam, distractedly, as she arose to leave the room. + +"And you will denounce me, Miriam?" + +"It is my insupportable duty! it is my fate! my doom! for it will kill +me!" + +"Yet you will do it!" + +"I will." + +"Yet turn, dear Miriam! Look on me once more! take my hand! since you +act from necessity, do nothing from anger--turn and take my hand." + +She turned and stood--such a picture of tearless agony! She met his +gentle, compassionate glance--it melted--it subdued her. + +"Oh, would Heaven that I might die, rather than do this thing! Would +Heaven I might die! for my heart turns to you; it turns, and I love you +so--oh! I love you so! never, never so much as now! my brother! my +brother!" and she sunk down and seized his hands and wept over them. + +"What, Miriam! do you love me, believing me to be guilty?" + +"To have been guilty--not to be guilty--you have suffered remorse--you +have repented, these many long and wretched years. Oh! surely repentance +washes out guilt!" + +"And you can now caress and weep over my hands, believing them to have +been crimsoned with the life-stream of your first and best friend?" + +"Yes! yes! yes! yes! Oh! would these tears, my very heart sobs forth, +might wash them pure again! Yes! yes! whether you be guilty or not, my +brother! the more I listen to my heart, the more I love you, and I +cannot help it!" + +"It is because your heart is so much wiser than your head, dear Miriam! +Your heart divines the guiltlessness that your reason refuses to credit! +Do what you feel that you must, dear Miriam--but, in the meantime, let +us still be brother and sister--embrace me once more." + +With anguish bordering on insanity, she threw herself into his arms for +a moment--was pressed to his heart, and then breaking away, she escaped +from the room to her own chamber. And there, with her half-crazed brain +and breaking heart--like one acting or forced to act in a ghastly dream, +she began to arrange her evidence--collect the letters, the list of +witnesses and all, preparatory to setting forth upon her fatal mission +in the morning. + +With the earliest dawn of morning, Miriam left her room. In passing the +door of Mr. Willcoxen's chamber, she suddenly stopped--a spasm seized +her heart, and convulsed her features--she clasped her hands to pray, +then, as if there were wild mockery in the thought, flung them fiercely +apart, and hurried on her way. She felt that she was leaving the house +never to return; she thought that she should depart without encountering +any of its inmates. She was surprised, therefore, to meet Paul in the +front passage. He came up and intercepted her: + +"Where are you going so early, Miriam?" + +"To Colonel Thornton's." + +"What? Before breakfast?" + +"Yes." + +He took both of her hands, and looked into her face--her pallid +face--with all the color concentrated in a dark crimson spot upon either +cheek--with all the life burning deep down in the contracted pupils of +the eyes. + +"Miriam, you are not well--come, go into the parlor," he said, and +attempted to draw her toward the door. + +"No, Paul, no! I must go out," she said, resisting his efforts. + +"But why?" + +"What is it to you? Let me go." + +"It is everything to me, Miriam, because I suspect your errand. Come +into the parlor. This madness must not go on." + +"Well, perhaps I am mad, and my words and acts may go for nothing. I +hope it may be so." + +"Miriam, I must talk with you--not here--for we are liable to be +interrupted every instant. Come into the parlor, at least for a few +moments." + +She no longer resisted that slight plea, but suffered him to lead her +in. He gave her a seat, and took one beside her, and took her hand in +his, and began to urge her to give up her fatal purpose. He appealed to +her, through reason, through religion, through all the strongest +passions and affections of her soul--through her devotion to her +guardian--through the gratitude she owed him--through their mutual love, +that must be sacrificed, if her insane purpose should be carried out. To +all this she answered: + +"I think of nothing concerning myself, Paul--I think only of him; there +is the anguish." + +"You are insane, Miriam; yet, crazy as you are, you may do a great deal +of harm--much to Thurston, but much more to yourself. It is not probable +that the evidence you think you have will be considered by any +magistrate of sufficient importance to be acted upon against a man of +Mr. Willcoxen's life and character." + +"Heaven grant that such may be the case." + +"Attend! collect your thoughts--the evidence you produce will probably +be considered unimportant and quite unworthy of attention; but what will +be thought of you who volunteer to offer it?" + +"I had not reflected upon that--and now you mention it, I do not care." + +"And if, on the other hand, the testimony which you have to offer be +considered ground for indictment, and Thurston is brought to trial, and +acquitted, as he surely would be--" + +"Ay! Heaven send it!" + +"And the whole affair blown all over the country--how would you appear?" + +"I know not, and care not, so he is cleared; Heaven grant I may be the +only sufferer! I am willing to take the infamy." + +"You would be held up before the world as an ingrate, a domestic +traitress, and unnatural monster. You would be hated of all--your name +and history become a tradition of almost impossible wickedness." + +"Ha! why, do you think that in such an hour as this I care for myself? +No, no! no, no! Heaven grant that it may be as you say--that my brother +be acquitted, and I only may suffer! I am willing to suffer shame and +death for him whom I denounce! Let me go, Paul; I have lost too much +time here." + +"Will nothing induce you to abandon this wicked purpose?" + +"Nothing on earth, Paul!" + +"Nothing?" + +"No! so help me Heaven! Give way--let me go, Paul." + +"You must not go, Miriam." + +"I must and will--and that directly. Stand aside." + +"Then you shall not go." + +"Shall not?" + +"I said 'shall not.'" + +"Who will prevent me?" + +"I will! You are a maniac, Miriam, and must be restrained from going +abroad, and setting the county in a conflagration." + +"You will have to guard me very close for the whole of my life, then." + +At that moment the door was quietly opened, and Mr. Willcoxen entered. + +Miriam's countenance changed fearfully, but she wrung her hand from the +clasp of Paul's, and hastened toward the door. + +Paul sprang forward and intercepted her. + +"What does this mean?" asked Mr. Willcoxen, stepping up to them. + +"It means that she is mad, and will do herself or somebody else much +mischief," cried Paul, sharply. + +"For shame, Paul! Release her instantly," said Thurston, +authoritatively. + +"Would you release a lunatic, bent upon setting the house on fire?" +expostulated the young man, still holding her. + +"She is no lunatic; let her go instantly, sir." + +Paul, with a groan, complied. + +Miriam hastened onward, cast one look of anguish back to Thurston's +face, rushed back, and threw herself upon her knees at his feet, clasped +his hands, and cried: + +"I do not ask you to pardon me--I dare not! But God deliver you! if it +brand me and my accusation with infamy! and God forever bless you!" Then +rising, she fled from the room. + +The brothers looked at each other. + +"Thurston, do you know where she has gone? what she intends to do?" + +"Yes." + +"You do?" + +"Assuredly." + +"And you would not prevent her?" + +"Most certainly not." + +Paul was gazing into his brother's eyes, and, as he gazed, every vestige +of doubt and suspicion vanished from his mind; it was like the sudden +clearing up of the sky, and shining forth of the sun; he grasped his +brother's hands with cordial joy. + +"God bless you, Thurston! I echo her prayer. God forever bless you! But, +Thurston, would it not have been wiser to prevent her going out?" + +"How? Would you have used force with Miriam--restrained her personal +liberty?" + +"Yes! I would have done so!" + +"That would have been not only wrong, but useless; for if her strong +affections for us were powerless to restrain her, be sure that physical +means would fail; she would make herself heard in some way, and thus +make our cause much worse. Besides, I should loathe, for myself, to +resort to any such expedients." + +"But she may do so much harm. And you?" + +"I am prepared to meet what comes!" + +"Strange infatuation! that she should believe you to be--I will not +wrong you by finishing the sentence." + +"She does not at heart believe me guilty--her mind is in a storm. She is +bound by her oath to act upon the evidence rather than upon her own +feelings, and that evidence is much stronger against me, Paul, than you +have any idea of. Come into my study, and I will tell you the whole +story." + +And Paul followed him thither. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +UPON CHARGE OF MURDER. + + +Some hours later in that day Colonel Thornton was sitting, in his +capacity of police magistrate, in his office at C----. The room was +occupied by about a dozen persons, men and women, black and white. He +had just got through with one or two petty cases of debt or theft, and +had up before him a poor, half-starved "White Herring," charged with +sheep-stealing, when the door opened and a young girl, closely veiled, +entered and took a seat in the farthest corner from the crowd. The case +of the poor man was soon disposed of--the evidence was not positive--the +compassionate magistrate leaned to the side of mercy, and the man was +discharged, and went home most probably to dine upon mutton. This being +the last case, the magistrate arose and ordered the room to be cleared +of all who had no further business with him. + +When the loungers had left the police office the young girl came +forward, stood before the magistrate, and raised her veil, revealing the +features of Miriam. + +"Good-morning, Miss Shields," said Colonel Thornton; and neither the +countenance nor manner of this suave and stately gentleman of the old +school revealed the astonishment he really felt on seeing the young lady +in such a place. He arose and courteously placed her a chair, reseated +himself, and turned toward her and respectfully awaited her +communication. + +"Colonel Thornton, you remember Miss Mayfield, and the manner of her +death, that made some stir here about seven years ago?" + +The face of the old gentleman suddenly grew darkened and slightly +convulsed, as the face of the sea when clouds and wind pass over it. + +"Yes, young lady, I remember." + +"I have come to denounce her murderer." + +Colonel Thornton took up his pen, and drew toward him a blank form of a +writ, and sat looking toward her; and waiting for her further words. + +Her bosom heaved, her face worked, her voice was choked and unnatural, +as she said: + +"You will please to issue a warrant for the arrest of Thurston +Willcoxen." + +Colonel Thornton laid down his pen, arose from his seat, and took her +hand and gazed upon her with an expression of blended surprise and +compassion. + +"My dear young lady, you are not very well. May I inquire--are your +friends in town, or are you here alone?" + +"I am here alone. Nay, I am not mad, Colonel Thornton, although your +looks betray that you think me so." + +"No, no, not mad, only indisposed," said the colonel, in no degree +modifying his opinion. + +"Colonel Thornton, if there is anything strange and eccentric in my +looks and manner, you must set it down to the strangeness of the +position in which I am placed." + +"My dear young lady, Miss Thornton is at the hotel to-day. Will you +permit me to take you to her?" + +"You will do as you please, Colonel Thornton, after you shall have heard +my testimony and examined the proofs I have to lay before you. Then I +shall permit you to judge of my soundness of mind as you will, +premising, however, that my sanity or insanity can have no possible +effect upon the proofs that I submit," she said, laying a packet upon +the table between them. + +Something in her manner now compelled the magistrate to give her words +an attention for which he blamed himself, as for a gross wrong, toward +his favorite clergyman. + +"Do I understand you to charge Mr. Willcoxen with the death of Miss +Mayfield?" + +"Yes," said Miriam, bowing her head. + +"What cause, young lady, can you possibly have for making such a +monstrous and astounding accusation?" + +"I came here for the purpose of telling you, if you will permit me. Nor +do I, since you doubt my reason, ask you to believe my statement, +unsupported by proof." + +"Go on, young lady; I am all attention." + +"Will you administer the usual oath?" + +"No, Miss Shields; I will hear your story first in the capacity of +friend." + +"And you think that the only capacity in which you will be called upon +to act? Well, may Heaven grant it," said Miriam, and she began and told +him all the facts that had recently come to her knowledge, ending by +placing the packet of letters in his hands. + +While she spoke, Colonel Thornton's pen was busy making minutes of her +statements; when she had concluded, he laid down the pen, and turning to +her, asked: + +"You believe, then, that Mr. Willcoxen committed this murder?" + +"I know not--I act only upon the evidence." + +"Circumstantial evidence, often as delusive as it is fatal! Do you think +it possible that Mr. Willcoxen could have meditated such a crime?" + +"No, no, no, no! never meditated it! If he committed it, it was +unpremeditated, unintentional; the accident of some lover's quarrel, +some frenzy of passion, jealousy--I know not what!" + +"Let me ask you, then, why you volunteer to prosecute?" + +"Because I must do so. But tell me, do you think what I have advanced +trivial and unimportant?" asked Miriam, in a hopeful tone, for little +she thought of herself, if only her obligation were discharged, and her +brother still unharmed. + +"On the contrary, I think it so important as to constrain my instant +attention, and oblige me to issue a warrant for the apprehension of Mr. +Thurston Willcoxen," said Colonel Thornton, as he wrote rapidly, filling +out several blank documents. Then he rang a bell, that was answered by +the entrance of several police officers. To the first he gave a warrant, +saying: + +"You will serve this immediately upon Mr. Willcoxen." And to another he +gave some half dozen subpoenas, saying: "You will serve all these +between this time and twelve to-morrow." + +When these functionaries were all discharged, Miriam arose and went to +the magistrate. + +"What do you think of the testimony?" + +"It is more than sufficient to commit Mr. Willcoxen for trial; it may +cost him his life." + +A sudden paleness passed over her face; she turned to leave the office, +but the hand of death seemed to clutch her heart, arresting its +pulsations, stopping the current of her blood, smothering her breath, +and she fell to the floor. + + * * * * * + +Wearily passed the day at Dell-Delight. Thurston, as usual, sitting +reading or writing at his library table; Paul rambling uneasily about +the house, now taking up a book and attempting to read, now throwing it +down in disgust; sometimes almost irresistibly impelled to spring upon +his horse and gallop to Charlotte Hall, then restraining his strong +impulse lest something important should transpire at home during his +absence. So passed the day until the middle of the afternoon. + +Paul was walking up and down the long piazza, indifferent for the first +time in his life to the loveliness of the soft April atmosphere, that +seemed to blend, raise and idealize the features of the landscape until +earth, water and sky were harmonized into celestial beauty. Paul was +growing very anxious for the reappearance of Miriam, or for some news of +her or her errand, yet dreading every moment an arrival of another sort. +"Where could the distracted girl be? Would her report be received and +acted upon by the magistrate? If so, what would be done? How would it +all end? Would Thurston sleep in his own house or in a prison that +night? When would Miriam return? Would she ever return, after having +assumed such a task as she had taken upon herself?" + +These and other questions presented themselves every moment, as he +walked up and down the piazza, keeping an eye upon the distant road. + +Presently a cloud of dust in the distance arrested both his attention +and his promenade, and brought his anxiety to a crisis. He soon +perceived a single horseman galloping rapidly down the road, and never +removed his eyes until the horseman turned into the gate and galloped +swiftly up to the house. + +Then with joy Paul recognized the rider, and ran eagerly down the stairs +to give him welcome, and reached the paved walk just as Cloudy drew rein +and threw himself from the saddle. + +The meeting was a cordial, joyous one--with Cloudy it was sincere, +unmixed joy; with Paul it was only a pleasant surprise and a transient +forgetfulness. Rapid questions were asked and answered, as they hurried +into the house. + +Cloudy's ship had been ordered home sooner than had been expected; he +had reached Norfolk a week before, B---- that afternoon, and had +immediately procured a horse and hurried on home. Hence his unlooked-for +arrival. + +"How is Thurston? How is Miriam? How are they all at Luckenough?" + +"All are well; the family at Luckenough are absent in the South, but are +expected home every week." + +"And where is Miriam?" + +"At the village." + +"And Thurston?" + +"In his library, as usual," said Paul, and touched the bell to summon a +messenger to send to Mr. Willcoxen. + +"Have you dined, Cloudy?" + +"Yes, no--I ate some bread and cheese at the village; don't fuss; I'd +rather wait till supper-time." + +The door opened, and Mr. Willcoxen entered. + +Whatever secret anxiety might have weighed upon the minister's heart, no +sign of it was suffered to appear upon his countenance, as, smiling +cordially, he came in holding out his hand to welcome his cousin and +early playmate, expressing equal surprise and pleasure at seeing him. + +Cloudy had to go over the ground of explanation of his sudden arrival, +and by the time he had finished, old Jenny came in, laughing and +wriggling with joy to see him. But Jenny did not remain long in the +parlor; she hurried out into the kitchen to express her feelings +professionally by preparing a welcome feast. + +"And you are not married yet, Thurston, as great a favorite as you are +with the ladies! How is that? Every time I come home I expect to be +presented to a Mrs. Willcoxen, and never am gratified; why is that?" + +"Perhaps I believe in the celibacy of the clergy." + +"Perhaps you have never recovered the disappointment of losing Miss Le +Roy?" + +"Ah! Cloudy, people who live in glass houses should not throw stones; I +suspect you judge me by yourself. How is it with you, Cloudy? Has no +fair maiden been able to teach you to forget your boy-love for +Jacquelina?" + +Cloudy winced, but tried to cover his embarrassment with a laugh. + +"Oh! I have been in love forty dozen times. I'm always in love; my heart +is continually going through a circle from one fit to another, like the +sun through the signs of the zodiac; only it never comes to anything." + +"Well, at least little Jacko is forgotten, which is one congratulatory +circumstance." + +"No, she is not forgotten; I will not wrong her by saying that she is, +or could be! All other loves are merely the foreign ports, which my +heart visits transiently now and then. Lina is its native home. I don't +know how it is. With most cases of disappointment, such as yours with +Miss Le Roy, I suppose the regret may be short-lived enough; but when an +affection has been part and parcel of one's being from infancy up; why, +it is in one's soul and heart and blood, so to speak--is identical with +one's consciousness, and inseparable from one's life." + +"Do you ever see her?" + +"See her! yes; but how?--at each return from a voyage. I may see +her once, with an iron grating between us; she disguised with her +black shrouding robe and veil, and thinking that she must suffer +here to expiate the fate of Dr. Grimshaw, who, scorpion-like, stung +himself to death with the venom of his own bad passions. She is a +Sister of Mercy, devoted to good works, and leaves her convent only +in times of war, plague, pestilence or famine, to minister to the +suffering. She nursed me through the yellow fever, when I lay in the +hospital at New Orleans, but when I got well enough to recognize her she +vanished--evaporated--made herself 'thin air,' and another Sister served +in her place." + +"Have you ever seen her since?" + +"Yes, once; I sought out her convent, and went with the fixed +determination to reason with her, and to persuade her not to renew her +vows for another year--you know, the Sisters only take vows for a year +at a time." + +"Did you make any impression on her mind?" inquired Thurston, with more +interest than he had yet shown m any part of the story. + +"'Make any impression on her mind!' No! I--I did not even attempt to. +How could I, when I only saw her behind a grate, with the prioress on +one side of her and the portress on the other? My visit was silent +enough, and short enough, and sad enough. Why can't she come out of +that? What have I done to deserve to be made miserable? I don't deserve +it. I am the most ill-used man in the United States service." + +While Cloudy spoke, old Jenny was hurrying in and out between the house +and the kitchen, and busying herself with setting the table, laying the +cloth and arranging the service. But presently she came in, throwing +wide the door, and announcing: + +"Two gemmun, axin to see marster." + +Thurston arose and turned to confront them, while Paul became suddenly +pale on recognizing two police officers. + +"Good-afternoon, Mr. Willcoxen--good-afternoon, gentlemen," said the +foremost and most respectable-looking of the two, lifting his hat and +bowing to the fireside party. Then replacing it, he said: "Mr. +Willcoxen, will you be kind enough to step this way and give me your +attention, sir." He walked to the window, and Thurston followed him. + +Paul stood with a pale face and firmly compressed lip, and gazed after +them. + +And Cloudy--unsuspicious Cloudy, arose and stood with his back to the +fire and whistled a sea air. + +"Mr. Willcoxen, you can see for yourself the import of this paper," said +the officer, handing the warrant. + +Thurston read it and returned it. + +"Mr. Willcoxen," added the policeman, "myself and my comrade came hither +on horseback. Let me suggest to you to order your carriage. One of us +will accompany you in the drive, and all remarks will be avoided." + +"I thank you for the hint, Mr. Jenkins; I had, how ever, intended to do +as you advise," said Thurston, beckoning his brother to approach. + +"Paul! I am a prisoner. Say nothing at present to Cloudy; permit him to +assume that business takes me away, and go now quietly and order horses +put to the carriage." + +"Dr. Douglass, we shall want your company also," said the officer, +serving Paul with a subpoena. + +Paul ground his teeth together and rushed out of the door. + +"Keep an eye on that young man," said the policeman to his comrade, and +the latter followed Paul into the yard and on to the stables. + +The haste and passion of Paul's manner had attracted Cloudy's attention, +and now he stood looking on with surprise and inquiry. + +"Cloudy," said Thurston, approaching him, "a most pressing affair +demands my presence at C---- this afternoon. Paul must also attend me. I +may not return to-night. Paul, however, certainly will. In the meantime, +Cloudy, my boy, make yourself as much at home and as happy as you +possibly can." + +"Oh! don't mind me! Never make a stranger of me. Go, by all means. I +wouldn't detain you for the world; hope it is nothing of a painful +nature that calls you from home, however. Any parishioner ill, dying and +wanting your ghostly consolations?" + +"Oh, no," said Thurston, smiling. + +"Glad of it! Go, by all means. I will make myself jolly until you +return," said Cloudy, walking up and down the floor whistling a love +ditty, and thinking of little Jacko. He always thought of her with +tenfold intensity whenever he returned home and came into her +neighborhood. + +"Mr. Jenkins, will you follow me to my library?" said Thurston. + +The officer bowed assent and Mr. Willcoxen proceeded thither for the +purpose of securing his valuable papers and locking his secretary and +writing-desk. + +After an absence of some fifteen minutes they returned to the parlor to +find Paul and the constable awaiting them. + +"Is the carriage ready?" asked Mr. Willcoxen. + +"Yes, sir," replied the constable. + +"Then, I believe, we also are--is it not so?" + +The police officer bowed, and Mr. Willcoxen walked up to Cloudy and held +out his hand. + +"Good-by, Cloudy, for the present. Paul will probably be home by +nightfall, even if I should be detained." + +"Oh, don't hurry yourself upon my account. I shall do very well. Jenny +can take care of me," said Cloudy, jovially, as he shook the offered +hand of Thurston. + +Paul could not trust himself to look Cloudy in the face and say +"Good-by." He averted his head, and so followed Mr. Willcoxen and the +officer into the yard. + +Mr. Willcoxen, the senior officer and Paul Douglass entered the +carriage, and the second constable attended on horseback, and so the +party set out for Charlotte Hall. + +Hour after hour passed. Old Jenny came in and put the supper on the +table, and stood presiding over the urn and tea-pot while Cloudy ate his +supper. Old Jenny's tongue ran as if she felt obliged to make up in +conversation for the absence of the rest of the family. + +"Lord knows, I'se glad 'nough you'se comed back," she said; "dis yer +place is bad 'nough. Sam's been waystin' here eber since de fam'ly come +from de city--dey must o' fetch him long o' dem. Now I do 'spose sumtin +is happen long o' Miss Miriam as went heyin' off to de willidge dis +mornin' afore she got her brekfas, nobody on de yeth could tell what +fur. Now de od-er two is gone, an' nobody lef here to mine de house, +'cept 'tis you an' me! Sam's waystin'!" + +Cloudy laughed and tried to cheer her spirits by a gay reply, and then +they kept up between them a lively badinage of repartee, in which old +Jenny acquitted herself quite as wittily as her young master. + +And after supper she cleared away the service, and went to prepare a bed +and light a fire in the room appropriated to Cloudy. + +And so the evening wore away. + +It grew late, yet neither Thurston nor Paul appeared. Cloudy began to +think their return unseasonably delayed, and at eleven o'clock he took +up his lamp to retire to his chamber, when he was startled and arrested +by the barking of dogs, and by the rolling of the carriage into the +yard, and in a few minutes the door was thrown violently open, and Paul +Douglass, pale, haggard, convulsed and despairing, burst suddenly into +the room. + +"Paul! Paul! what in the name of Heaven has happened?" cried Cloudy, +starting up, surprised and alarmed by his appearance. + +"Oh, it has ended in his committal!--it has ended in his committal!--he +is fully committed for trial!--he was sent off to-night to the county +jail at Leonardtown, in the custody of two officers!" + +"Who is committed? What are you talking about, Paul?" said Cloudy, +taking his hand kindly and looking in his face. + +These words and actions brought Paul somewhat to his senses. + +"Oh! you do not know!--you do not even guess anything about it, Cloudy! +Oh, it is a terrible misfortune! Let me sit down and I will tell you!" + +And Paul Douglass threw himself into a chair, and in an agitated, nearly +incoherent manner, related the circumstances that led to the arrest of +Thurston Willcoxen for the murder of Marian Mayfield. + +When he had concluded the strange story, Cloudy started up, took his +hat, and was about to leave the room, + +"Where are you going, Cloudy?" + +"To the stables to saddle my horse, to ride to Leonardtown this night!" + +"It is nearly twelve o'clock." + +"I know it, but by hard riding I can reach Leonardtown by morning, and +be with Thurston as soon as the prison doors are opened. And I will ask +you, Paul, to be kind enough to forward my trunks from the tavern at +Benedict to Leonardtown, where I shall remain to be near Thurston as +long as he needs my services." + +"God bless you, Cloudy! I myself wished to accompany him, but he would +not for a moment hear of my doing so--he entreated me to return hither +to take care of poor Fanny and the homestead." + +Cloudy scarcely waited to hear this benediction, but hurried to the +stables, found and saddled his horse, threw himself into the stirrups, +and in five minutes was dashing rapidly through the thick, low-lying +forest stretching inland from the coast. + +Eight hours of hard riding brought him to the county seat. + +Just stopping long enough to have his horse put up at the best hotel and +to inquire his way to the prison, he hurried thither. + +It was nearly nine o'clock, and the street corners were thronged with +loungers conversing in low, eager tones upon the present all-absorbing +topic of discourse--the astounding event of the arrest of the great +preacher, the Rev. Thurston Willcoxen, upon the charge of murder. + +Hurrying past all these, Cloudy reached the jail. He readily gained +admittance, and was conducted to the cell of the prisoner. He found +Thurston attired as when he left home, sitting at a small wooden stand, +and calmly occupied with his pen. + +He arose, and smilingly extended his hand, saying: + +"This is very kind as well as very prompt, Cloudy. You must have ridden +fast." + +"I did. Leave us alone, if you please, my friend," said Cloudy, turning +to the jailor. + +The latter went out and locked the door upon the friends. + +"This seems a sad event to greet you on your return home. Cloudy; but +never mind, it will all be well!" + +"Sad? It's a farce! I have not an instant's misgiving about the result; +but the present indignity! Oh! oh! I could--" + +"Be calm, my dear Cloudy. Have you heard anything of the circumstances +that led to this?" + +"Yes! Paul told me; but he is as crazy and incoherent as a Bedlamite! I +want you, if you please, Thurston, if you have no objection, to go over +the whole story for me, that I may see if I can make anything of it for +your defense." + +"Poor Paul! he takes this matter far too deeply to heart. Sit down. I +have not a second chair to offer, but take this or the foot of the cot, +as you prefer." + +Cloudy took the foot of the cot. + +"Certainly, Cloudy, I will tell you everything," said Thurston, and +forthwith commenced his explanation. + +Thurston's narrative was clear and to the point. When it was finished +Cloudy asked a number of questions, chiefly referring to the day of the +tragedy. When these were answered he sat with his brows gathered down in +astute thought. Presently he asked: + +"Thurston, have you engaged counsel?" + +"Yes; Mr. Romford has been with me this morning." + +"Is he fully competent?" + +"The best lawyer in the State." + +"When does the court sit?" + +"On Monday week." + +"Have you any idea whether your trial will come on early in the +session?" + +"I presume it will come on very soon, as Mr. Romford informs me there +are but few cases on the docket." + +"Thank Heaven for that, as your confinement here promises to be of very +short duration. However, the limited time makes it the more necessary +for me to act with the greater promptitude. I came here with the full +intention of remaining in town as long as you should be detained in this +infernal place, but I shall have to leave you within the hour." + +"Of course, Cloudy, my dear boy, I could not expect you to restrict +yourself to this town so soon after escaping from the confinement of +your ship!" + +"Oh! you don't understand me at all! Do you think I am going away on my +own business, or amusement, while you are here? To the devil with the +thought!--begging your reverence's pardon. No, I am going in search of +Jacquelina. Since hearing your explanation, particularly that part of it +relating to your visit to Luckenough, upon the morning of the day of +Marian's death, and the various scenes that occurred there--certain +vague ideas of my own have taken form and color, and I feel convinced +that Jacquelina could throw some light upon this affair." + +"Indeed! why should you think so?" + +"Oh! from many small indexes, which I have neither the time nor +inclination to tell you; for, taken apart from collateral circumstances +and associations, they would appear visionary. Each in itself is really +trivial enough, but in the mass they are very indicative. At least, I +think so, and I must seek Jacquelina out immediately. And to do so, +Thurston, I must leave you this moment, for there is a boat to leave the +wharf for Baltimore this morning if it has not already gone. It will +take me two days to reach Baltimore, another day to get to her convent, +and it will altogether be five or six days before I can get back here. +Good-by, Thurston! Heaven keep you, and give you a speedy deliverance +from this black hole!" + +And Cloudy threw his arms around Thurston in a brotherly embrace, and +then knocked at the door to be let out. + +In half an hour Cloudy was "once more upon the waters," in full sail for +Baltimore. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +MARIAN. + + +Great was the consternation caused by the arrest of a gentleman so high +in social rank and scholastic and theological reputation as the Rev. +Thurston Willcoxen, and upon a charge, too, so awful as that for which +he stood committed! It was the one all-absorbing subject of thought and +conversation. People neglected their business, forgetting to work, to +bargain, buy or sell. Village shopkeepers, instead of vamping their +wares, leaned eagerly over their counters, and with great dilated eyes +and dogmatical forefingers, discussed with customers the merits or +demerits of the great case. Village mechanics, occupied solely with the +subject of the pastor's guilt or innocence, disappointed with impunity +customers who were themselves too deeply interested and too highly +excited by the same subject, to remember, far less to rebuke them, for +unfulfilled engagements. Even women totally neglected, or badly +fulfilled, their domestic avocations; for who in the parish could sit +down quietly to the construction of a garment or a pudding while their +beloved pastor, the "all praised" Thurston Willcoxen, lay in prison +awaiting his trial for a capital crime? + +As usual in such cases, there was very little cool reasoning, and very +much passionate declamation. The first astonishment had given place to +conjecture, which yielded in turn to dogmatic judgments--acquiescing or +condemning, as the self-constituted judges happened to be favorable or +adverse to the cause of the minister. + +When the first Sabbath after the arrest came, and the church was closed +because the pulpit was unoccupied, the dispersed congregation, haunted +by the vision of the absent pastor in his cell, discussed the matter +anew, and differed and disputed, and fell out worse than ever. Parties +formed for and against the minister, and party feuds raged high. + +Upon the second Sabbath--being the day before the county court should +sit--a substitute filled the pulpit of Mr. Willcoxen, and his +congregation reassembled to hear an edifying discourse from the text: "I +myself have seen the ungodly in great power, and flourishing like a +green bay-tree. I went by, and lo! he was gone; I sought him, but his +place was nowhere to be found." + +This sermon bore rather hard (by pointed allusions) upon the great +elevation and sudden downfall of the celebrated minister, and, in +consequence, delighted one portion of the audience and enraged the +other. The last-mentioned charged the new preacher with envy, hatred and +malice, and all uncharitableness, besides the wish to rise on the ruin +of his unfortunate predecessor, and they went home in high indignation, +resolved not to set foot within the parish church again until the +honorable acquittal of their own beloved pastor should put all his +enemies, persecutors and slanderers to shame. + +The excitement spread and gained force and fire with space. The press +took it up, and went to war as the people had done. And as far as the +name of Thurston Willcoxen had been wafted by the breath of fame, it was +now blown by the "Blatant Beast." Ay, and farther, too! for those who +had never even heard of his great talents, his learning, his eloquence, +his zeal and his charity, were made familiar with his imputed crime and +shuddered while they denounced. And this was natural and well, so far as +it went to prove that great excellence is so much less rare than great +evil, as to excite less attention. The news of this signal event spread +like wildfire all over the country, from Maine to Louisiana, and from +Missouri to Florida, producing everywhere great excitement, but falling +in three places with the crushing force of a thunderbolt. + +First by Marian's fireside. + +In a private parlor of a quiet hotel, in one of the Eastern cities, sat +the lady, now nearly thirty years of age, yet still in the bloom of her +womanly beauty. + +She had lately arrived from Europe, charged with one of those benevolent +missions which it was the business and the consolation of her life to +fulfill. + +It was late in the afternoon, and the low descending sun threw its +golden gleam across the round table at which she sat, busily engaged +with reading reports, making notes, and writing letters connected with +the affair upon which she had come. + +Seven years had not changed Marian much--a little less vivid, perhaps, +the bloom on cheeks and lips, a shade paler the angel brow, a shade +darker the rich and lustrous auburn tresses, softer and calmer, fuller +of thought and love the clear blue eyes--sweeter her tones, and gentler +all her motions--that was all. Her dress was insignificant in material, +make and color, yet the wearer unconsciously imparted a classic and +regal grace to every fold and fall of the drapery. No splendor of +apparel could have given such effect to her individual beauty as this +quiet costume; I would I were an artist that I might reproduce her image +as she was--the glorious face and head, the queenly form, in its plain +but graceful robe of I know not what--gray serge, perhaps. + +Her whole presence--her countenance, manner and tone revealed the +richness, strength and serenity of a faithful, loving, self-denying, +God-reliant soul--of one who could recall the past, endure the present, +and anticipate the future without regret, complaint or fear. + +Sometimes the lady's soft eyes would lift themselves from her work to +rest with tenderness upon the form of a little child, so small and still +that you would not have noticed her presence but in following the lady's +loving glance. She sat in a tiny rocking chair, nursing a little white +rabbit on her lap. She was not a beautiful child--she was too diminutive +and pale, with hazy blue eyes and faded yellow hair; yet her little face +was so demure and sweet, so meek and loving, that it would haunt and +soften you more than that of a beautiful child could. The child had been +orphaned from her birth, and when but a few days old had been received +into the "Children's Home." + +Marian never had a favorite among her children, but this little waif was +so completely orphaned, so desolate and destitute, and withal so puny, +fragile and lifeless that Marian took her to her own heart day and +night, imparting from her own fine vital temperament the warmth and +vigor that nourished the perishing little human blossom to life and +health. If ever a mother's heart lived in a maiden's bosom, it was in +Marian's. As she had cherished Miriam, she now cherished Angel, and she +was as fondly loved by the one as she had been by the other. And so for +five years past Angel had been Marian's inseparable companion. She sat +with her little lesson, or her sewing, or her pet rabbit, at Marian's +feet while she worked; held her hand when she walked out, sat by her +side at the table or in the carriage, and slept nestled in her arms at +night. She was the one earthly blossom that bloomed in Marian's solitary +path. + +Angel now sat with her rabbit on her knees, waiting demurely till Marian +should have time to notice her. + +And the lady still worked on, stopping once in a while to smile upon the +child. There was a file of the evening papers lying near at hand upon +the table where she wrote, but Marian had not yet had time to look at +them. Soon, however, she had occasion to refer to one of them for the +names of the members of the Committee on Public Lands. In casting her +eyes over the paper, her glance suddenly lighted upon a paragraph that +sent all the blood from her cheeks to her heart. She dropped the paper, +sank back in her chair, and covered her blanched face with both hands, +and strove for self-control. + +Angel softly put down the rabbit and gently stole to her side and looked +up with her little face full of wondering sympathy. + +Presently Marian began passing her hands slowly over her forehead, with +a sort of unconscious self-mesmerism, and then she dropped them wearily +upon her lap, and Angel saw how pallid was her face, how ashen and +tremulous her lip, how quivering her hands. But after a few seconds +Marian stooped and picked the paper up and read the long, +wonder-mongering affair, in which all that had been and all that had +seemed, as well as many things could neither be nor seem, were related +at length, or conjectured, or suggested. It began by announcing the +arrest of the Rev. Thurston Willcoxen upon the charge of murder, and +then went back to the beginning and related the whole story, from the +first disappearance of Marian Mayfield to the late discoveries that had +led to the apprehension of the supposed murderer, with many additions +and improvements gathered in the rolling of the ball of falsehood. Among +the rest, that the body of the unhappy young lady had been washed ashore +several miles below the scene of her dreadful fate, and had been +charitably interred by some poor fisherman. The article concluded by +describing the calm demeanor of the accused and the contemptuous manner +in which he treated a charge so grave, scorning even to deny it. + +"Oh, I do not wonder at the horror and consternation this matter has +caused. When the deed was attempted, more than the intended death wound +didn't overcome me! And nothing, nothing in the universe but the +evidence of my own senses could have convinced me of his purposed guilt! +And still I cannot realize it! He must have been insane! But he treats +the discovery of his intended and supposed crime with scorn and +contempt! Alas! alas! is this the end of years of suffering and +probation? Is this the fruit of that long remorse, from which I had +hoped so much for his redemption--a remorse without repentance, and +barren of reformation! Yet I must save him." + +She arose and rang the bell, and gave orders to have two seats secured +for her in the coach that would leave in the morning for Baltimore. And +then she began to walk up and down the floor, to try and walk off the +excitement that was fast gaining upon her. + +Before this night and this discovery, not for the world would Marian +have made her existence known to him, far less would she have sought his +presence. Nay, deeming such a meeting improper as it was impossible, her +mind had never contemplated it for an instant. She had watched his +course, sent anonymous donations to his charities, hoped much from his +repentance and good works, but never hoped in any regard to herself. But +now it was absolutely necessary that she should make her existence known +to him. She would go to him! She must save him! She should see him, and +speak to him--him whom she had never hoped to meet again in life! She +would see him again in three days! The thought was too exciting even for +her strong heart and frame and calm, self-governing nature! And in +defiance of reason and of will, her long-buried youthful love, her pure, +earnest, single-hearted love, burst its secret sepulchre, and rejoiced +through all her nature. The darkness of the past was, for the time, +forgotten. Memory recalled no picture of unkindness, injustice or +inconstancy. Even the scene upon the beach was faded, gone, lost! But +the light of the past glowed around her--their seaside strolls and +woodland wanderings-- + +"The still, green places where they met, + The moonlit branches dewy wet, + The greeting and the parting word, + The smile, the embrace, the tone that made + An Eden of the forest shade--" + +kindling a pure rapture from memory, and a wild longing from hope, that +her full heart could scarce contain. + +But soon came on another current of thought and feeling opposed to the +first--doubt and fear of the meeting. For herself she felt that she +could forget all the sorrows of the past; aye! and with fervent glowing +soul, and flushed cheeks, and tearful eyes, and clasped hands, she +adored the Father in Heaven that He had put no limit to forgiveness--no! +in that blessed path of light all space was open to the human will, and +the heart might forgive infinitely--and to its own measureless extent. + +But how would Thurston meet her? He had suffered such tortures from +remorse that doubtless he would rejoice "with exceeding great joy" to +find that the deed attempted in some fit of madness had really not been +effected. But his sufferings had sprung from remorse of conscience, not +from remorse of love. No! except as his deliverer, he would probably not +be pleased to see her. As soon as this thought had seized her mind, +then, indeed, all the bitterer scenes in the past started up to life, +and broke down the defenses reared by love, and faith, and hope, and let +in the tide of anguish and despair that rolled over her soul, shaking it +as it had not been shaken for many years. And her head fell upon her +bosom, and her hands were clasped convulsively, as she walked up and +down the floor--striving with herself--striving to subdue the rebel +passions of her heart--striving to attain her wonted calmness, and +strength, and self-possession, and at last praying earnestly: "Oh, +Father! the rains descend, and the floods come, and the winds blow and +beat upon my soul; let not its strength fall as if built upon the sand." +And so she walked up and down, striving and praying; nor was the +struggle in vain--once more she "conquered a peace" in her own bosom. + +She turned her eyes upon little Angel. The infant was drooping over one +arm of her rocking-chair like a fading lily, but her soft, hazy eyes, +full of vague sympathy, followed the lady wherever she went. + +Marian's heart smote her for her temporary forgetfulness of the child's +wants. It was now twilight, and Marian rang for lights, and Angel's milk +and bread, which were soon brought. + +And then with her usual quiet tenderness she undressed the little one, +heard her prayers, took her up, and as she rocked, sang a sweet, low +evening hymn, that soothed the child to sleep and her own heart to +perfect rest. And early the next morning Marian and little Angel set out +by the first coach for Baltimore, on their way to St. Mary's County. + + * * * * * + +The Convent of Bethlehem was not only the sanctuary of professed nuns, +the school for girls, the nursery of orphans, but it was also the +temporary home of those Sisters of Mercy who go forth into the world +only on errands of Christian love and charity, and return to their +convent often only to die, worn out by toil among scenes and sufferers +near which few but themselves would venture. And as they pass hence to +Heaven, their ranks are still filled up from the world--not always by +the weary and disappointed. Often young Catholic girls voluntarily leave +the untried world that is smiling fair before them to enter upon a life +of poverty, self-denial and merciful ministrations; so even in this +century the order of the Sisters of Mercy is kept up. + +Among the most active and zealous of the order of Bethlehem was the +Sister Theresa, the youngest of the band. Youthful as she was, however, +this Sister's heart was no sweet sacrifice of "a flower offered in the +bud;" on the contrary, I am afraid that Sister Theresa had trifled with, +and pinched, and bruised, and trampled the poor budding heart, until she +thought it good for nothing upon earth before she offered it to Heaven. +I fear it was nothing higher than that strange revulsion of feeling, +world-weariness, disappointment, disgust, remorse, fanaticism--either, +any, or all of these, call it what you will, that in past ages and +Catholic countries have filled monasteries with the whilom, gay, worldly +and ambitious; that has sent many a woman in the prime of her beauty and +many a man at the acme of his power into a convent; that transformed the +mighty Emperor Charles V. into a cowled and shrouded monk; the reckless +swashbuckler, Ignatius Loyola, into a holy saint, and the beautiful +Louise de la Valliere into an ascetic nun; which finally metamorphosed +the gayest, maddest, merriest elf that ever danced in the moonlight +into--Sister Theresa. + +Poor Jacquelina! for, of course, you can have no doubt that it is of her +we are speaking--she perpetrated her last lugubrious joke on the day +that she was to have made her vows, for when asked what patron saint she +would select by taking that saint's name in religion, she answered--St. +Theresa, because St. Theresa would understand her case the best, having +been, like herself, a scamp and a rattle-brain before she took it into +her head to astonish her friends by becoming a saint. Poor Jacko said +this with the solemnest face and the most serious earnestness; but, with +such a reputation as she had had for pertness, of course nobody would +believe but that she was making fun of the "Blessed Theresa," and so she +was put upon further probation, with the injunction to say the seven +penitential Psalms seven times a day, until she was in a holier frame of +mind; which she did, though under protest that she didn't think the +words composed by David to express his remorse for his own enormous sin +exactly suited her case. Sister Theresa, if the least steady and devout, +was certainly the most active and zealous and courageous among them all. +She yawned horribly over the long litanies and long sermons; but if ever +there was a work of mercy requiring extraordinary labor, privation, +exposure and danger, Sister Theresa was the one to face, in the cause, +lightning and tempest, plague, pestilence and famine, battle and murder, +and sudden death! Happy was she? or content? No; she was moody, +hysterical and devotional by turns--sometimes a zeal for good works +would possess her; sometimes the old fun and quaintness would break out, +and sometimes an overwhelming fit of remorse--each depending upon the +accidental cause that would chance to arouse the moods. + +Humane creatures are like climates--some of a temperate atmosphere, +taking even life-long sorrow serenely--never forgetting, and never +exaggerating its cause--never very wretched, if never quite happy. +Others of a more torrid nature have long, sunny seasons of bird-like +cheerfulness and happy forgetfulness, until some slight cause, striking +"the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound," shall startle up +memory--and grief, intensely realized, shall rise to anguish, and a +storm shall pass through the soul, shaking it almost to dissolution, and +the poor subject thinks, if she can think, that her heart must go to +pieces this time! But the storm passes, and nature, instead of being +destroyed, is refreshed and ready for the sunshine and the song-birds +again. The elastic heart throws off its weight, the spirits revive, and +life goes on joyously in harmony with nature. + +So it was with Jacquelina, with this sad difference, that as her trouble +was more than sorrow--for it was remorse--it was never quite thrown off. +It was not that her conscience reproached her for the fate of Dr. +Grimshaw, which was brought on by his own wrongdoing, but Marian's +fate--that a wild, wanton frolic of her own should have caused the early +death of one so young, and beautiful, and good as Marian! that was the +thought that nearly drove poor Jacquelina mad with remorse, whenever she +realized it. Dr. Grimshaw was forgiven, and--forgotten; but the thought +of Marian was the "undying worm," that preyed upon her heart. And so, +year after year, despite the arguments and persuasions of nearest +friends, and the constancy of poor Cloudy, Jacquelina tearfully turned +from love, friendship, wealth and ease, and renewed her vows of poverty, +celibacy, obedience, and the service of the poor, sick and ignorant, in +the hope of expiating her offense, soothing the voice of conscience, and +gaining peace. Jacquelina would have made her vows perpetual by taking +the black veil, but her Superior constantly dissuaded her from it. She +was young, and life, with its possibilities, was all before her; she +must wait many years before she took the step that could not be +retracted without perjury. And so each year she renewed her vow a +twelvemonth. The seventh year of her religious life was drawing to its +close, and she had notified her superior of her wish now, after so many +years of probation, to take the black veil, and make her vows perpetual. +And the Abbess had, at length, listened favorably to her expressed +wishes. + +But a few days after this, as the good old Mother, Martha, the portress, +sat dozing over her rosary, behind the hall grating, the outer door was +thrown open, and a young man, in a midshipman's undress uniform, entered +rather brusquely, and came up to the grating. Touching his hat precisely +as if the old lady had been his superior officer, he said, hastily: + +"Madam, if you please, I wish to see Mrs. ----; you know who I mean, I +presume? my cousin, Jacquelina." + +The portress knew well enough, for she had seen Cloudy there several +times before, but she replied: + +"You mean, young gentleman, that pious daughter, called in the world +Mrs. Grimshaw, but in religion Sister Theresa?" + +"Fal lal!--that is--I beg your pardon, Mother, but I wish to see the +lady immediately. Can I do so?" + +"The dear sister Theresa is at present making her retreat, preparatory +to taking the black veil." + +"The what!" exclaimed Cloudy, with as much horror as if it had been the +"black dose" she was going to take. + +"The black veil--and so she cannot be seen." + +"Madam, I have a very pressing form of invitation here, which people are +not very apt to disregard. Did you ever hear of a subpoena, dear +Mother?" + +The good woman never had, but she thought it evidently something +"uncanny," for she said, "I will send for the Abbess;" and she beckoned +to a nun within, and sent her on the errand--and soon the Abbess +appeared, and Cloudy made known the object of his visit. + +"Go into the parlor, sir, and Sister Theresa will attend you," said that +lady. + +And Cloudy turned to a side door on his right hand, and went into the +little receiving-room, three sides of which were like other rooms, but +the fourth side was a grating instead of a wall. Behind this grating +appeared Jacquelina--so white and thin with confinement, fasting and +vigil, and so disguised by her nun's dress as to be unrecognizable to +any but a lover's eyes: with her was the Abbess. + +Cloudy went up to the grating. Jacquelina put her hand through, and +spoke a kind greeting; but Cloudy glanced at the Abbess, looked +reproachfully at Jacquelina, and then turning to the former, said: + +"Madam, I wish to say a few words in confidence to my cousin here. Can I +be permitted to do so?" + +"Most certainly, young gentleman; Sister Theresa is not restricted. It +was at her own request that I attended her hither." + +"Thank you, dear lady--that which I have to say to--Sister +Theresa--involves the confidence of others: else I should not have made +the request that you have so kindly granted," said Cloudy, considerably +mollified. + +The Abbess curtsied in the old stately way, and retired. + +Cloudy looked at Jacquelina reproachfully. + +"Are you going to be a nun, Lina?" + +"Yes. Oh, Cloudy, Cloudy! what do you come here to disturb my thoughts +so for? Oh, Cloudy! every time you come to see me, you do so upset and +confuse my mind! You have no idea how many aves and paters, and psalms +and litanies I have to say before I can quiet my mind down again! And +now this is worse than all. Dear, dear Cloudy!--St. Mary, forgive me, I +never meant that--I meant plain Cloudy--see how you make me sin in +words! What did you send Mother Ettienne away for?" + +"That I might talk to you alone. Why do you deny me that small +consolation, Lina? How have I offended, that you should treat me so?" + +"In no way at all have you offended, dearest Cloudy--St. Peter! there it +is again--I mean only Cloudy." + +"Never mind explaining the distinction. You are going to be a nun, you +say! Very well--let that pass, too! But you must leave your convent, and +go into the world yet once more, and then I shall have opportunities of +talking to you before your return." + +"No, no; never will I leave my convent--never will I subject my soul to +such a temptation." + +"My dear Lina, I have the cabalistic words that must draw you +forth--listen! Our cousin, Thurston Willcoxen, is in prison, charged +with the murder of Marian Mayfield"--a stifled shriek from +Jacquelina--"and there is circumstantial evidence against him strong +enough to ruin him forever, if it does not cost him his life. Now, Lina, +I cannot be wrong in supposing that you know who struck that death-blow, +and that your evidence can thoroughly exonerate Thurston from suspicion! +Am I right?" + +"Yes! yes! you are right," exclaimed Jacquelina, in great agitation. + +"You will go, then?" + +"Yes! yes." + +"When?" + +"In an hour--this moment--with you." + +"With me?" + +"Yes! I may do so in such a case. I must do so! Oh! Heaven knows, I have +occasioned sin enough, without causing more against poor Thurston!" + +"You will get ready, then, immediately, dear Lina. Are you sure there +will be no opposition?" + +"Certainly not. Why, Cloudy, are you one of those who credit 'raw head +and bloody bones' fables about convents? I have no jailer but my own +conscience, Cloudy. Besides, my year's vows expired yesterday, and I am +free for awhile, before renewing them perpetually," said Jacquelina, +hurrying away to get ready. + +"And may I be swung to the yard-arm if ever I let you renew them," said +Cloudy, while he waited for her. + +Jacquelina was soon ready, and Cloudy rejoined her in the front entry, +behind the grating of which the good old portress, as she watched the +handsome middy drive off with her young postulant, devoutly crossed +herself, and diligently told her beads. + + * * * * * + +Commodore Waugh and his family were returning slowly from the South, +stopping at all the principal towns for long rests on their way +homeward. + +The commodore was now a wretched, helpless old man, depending almost for +his daily life upon the care and tenderness of Mrs. Waugh. + +Good Henrietta, with advancing years, had continued to "wax fat," and +now it was about as much as she could do, with many grunts, to get up +and down stairs. Since her double bereavement of her "Hebe" and her +"Lapwing," her kind, motherly countenance had lost somewhat of its +comfortable jollity, and her hearty mellow laugh was seldom heard. +Still, good Henrietta was passably happy, as the world goes, for she had +the lucky foundation of a happy temper and temperament--she enjoyed the +world, her friends and her creature comforts--her sound, innocent +sleep--her ambling pony, or her easy carriage--her hearty meals and her +dreamy doze in the soft armchair of an afternoon, while Mrs. L'Oiseau +droned, in a dreary voice, long homilies for the good of the commodore's +soul. + +Mrs. L'Oiseau had got to be one of the saddest and maddest fanatics that +ever afflicted a family. And there were hours when, by holding up too +graphic, terrific, and exasperating pictures of the veteran's past and +present wickedness and impenitence, and his future retribution, in the +shape of an external roasting in the lake that burneth with fire and +brimstone--she drove the old man half frantic with rage and fright! And +then she would nearly finish him by asking: "If hell was so horrible to +hear of for a little while, what must it be to feel forever and ever?" + +They had reached Charleston, on their way home. Mrs. L'Oiseau, too much +fatigued to persecute her uncle for his good, had gone to her chamber. + +The commodore was put comfortably to bed. + +And Mrs. Waugh took the day's paper, and sat down by the old man's side, +to read him the news until he should get sleepy. As she turned the paper +about, her eyes fell upon the same paragraph that had so agitated +Marian. Now, Henrietta was by no means excitable--on the contrary, she +was rather hard to be moved; but on seeing this announcement of the +arrest of Mr. Willcoxen, for the crime with which he was charged, an +exclamation of horror and amazement burst from her lips. In another +moment she had controlled herself, and would gladly have kept the +exciting news from the sick man until the morning. + +But it was too late--the commodore had heard the unwonted cry, and now, +raised upon his elbow, lay staring at her with his great fat eyes, and +insisting upon knowing what the foul fiend she meant by screeching out +in that manner? + +It was in vain to evade the question--the commodore would hear the news. +And Mrs. Waugh told him. + +"And by the bones of Paul Jones, I always believed it!" falsely swore +the commodore; and thereupon he demanded to hear "all about it." + +Mrs. Waugh commenced, and in a very unsteady voice read the long account +quite through. The commodore made no comment, except an occasional grunt +of satisfaction, until she had finished it, when he growled out: + +"Knew it!--hope they'll hang him!--d----d rascal! If it hadn't been for +him, there'd been no trouble in the family! Now call Festus to help to +turn me over, and tuck me up, Henrietta; I want to go to sleep!" + +That night Mrs. Waugh said nothing, but the next morning she proposed +hurrying homeward with all possible speed. + +But the commodore would hear of no such thing. He swore roundly that he +would not stir to save the necks of all the scoundrels in the world, +much less that of Thurston, who, if he did not kill Marian, deserved +richly to be hanged for giving poor Nace so much trouble. + +Mrs. Waugh coaxed and urged in vain. The commodore rather liked to hear +her do so, and so the longer she pleaded, the more obstinate and dogged +he grew, until at last Henrietta desisted--telling him, very +well!--justice and humanity alike required her presence near the unhappy +man, and so, whether the commodore chose to budge or not, she should +surely leave Charleston in that very evening's boat for Baltimore, so as +to reach Leonardtown in time for the trial. Upon hearing this, the +commodore swore furiously; but knowing of old that nothing could turn +Henrietta from the path of duty, and dreading above all things to lose +her comfortable attentions, and be left to the doubtful mercies of Mary +L'Oiseau, he yielded, though with the worst possible grace, swearing all +the time that he hoped the villain would swing for it yet. + +And then the trunks were packed, and the travelers resumed their +homeward journey. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +THE TRIAL. + + +The day of the trial came. It was a bright spring day, and from an early +hour in the morning the village was crowded to overflowing with people +collected from all parts of the county. The court-room was filled to +suffocation. It was with the greatest difficulty that order could be +maintained when the prisoner, in the custody of the high sheriff, was +brought into court. + +The venerable presiding judge was supposed to be unfriendly to the +accused, and the State's Attorney was known to be personally, as well as +officially, hostile to his interests. So strongly were the minds of the +people prejudiced upon one side or the other that it was with much +trouble that twelve men could be found who had not made up their +opinions as to the prisoner's innocence or guilt. At length, however, a +jury was empaneled, and the trial commenced. When the prisoner was +placed at the bar, and asked the usual question, "Guilty or not guilty?" +some of the old haughtiness curled the lip and flashed from the eye of +Thurston Willcoxen, as though he disdained to answer a charge so base; +and he replied in a low, scornful tone: + +"Not guilty, your honor." + +The opening charge of the State's Attorney had been carefully prepared. +Mr. Thomson had never in his life had so important a case upon his +hands, and he was resolved to make the most of it. His speech was well +reasoned, logical, eloquent. To destroy in the minds of the jury every +favorable impression left by the late blameless and beneficent life of +Mr. Willcoxen, he did not fail to adduce, from olden history, and from +later times, every signal instance of depravity, cloaked with hypocrisy, +in high places; he enlarged upon wolves in sheeps' clothing--Satan in an +angel's garb, and dolefully pointed out how many times the indignant +question of--"Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing?"--had +been answered by results in the affirmative. He raked up David's sin +from the ashes of ages. Where was the scene of that crime, and who was +its perpetrator--in the court of Israel, by the King of Israel--a man +after God's own heart. Could the gentlemen of the jury be surprised at +the appalling discovery so recently made, as if great crimes in high +places were impossible or new things under the sun? He did not fail to +draw a touching picture of the victim, the beautiful, young +stranger-girl, whom they all remembered and loved--who had come, an +angel of mercy, on a mission of mercy, to their shores. Was not her +beauty, her genius, her goodness--by which all there had at some time +been blessed--sufficient to save her from the knife of the assassin? No! +as he should shortly prove. Yet all these years her innocent blood had +cried to Heaven in vain; her fate was unavenged, her _manes_ unappeased. + +All the women, and all the simple-hearted and unworldly among the men, +were melted into tears, very unpropitious to the fate of Thurston; tears +not called up by the eloquence of the prosecuting attorney, so much as +by the mere allusion to the fate of Marian, once so beloved, and still +so fresh in the memories of all. + +Thurston heard all this--not in the second-hand style with which I have +summed it up--but in the first vital freshness, when it was spoken with +a logic, force, and fire that carried conviction to many a mind. +Thurston looked upon the judge--his face was stern and grave. He looked +upon the jury--they were all strangers, from distant parts of the +county, drawn by idle curiosity to the scene of trial, and arriving +quite unprejudiced. They were not his "peers," but, on the contrary, +twelve as stolid-looking brothers as ever decided the fate of a +gentleman and scholar. Thence he cast his eyes over the crowd in the +court-room. + +There were his parishioners! hoary patriarchs and gray-haired matrons, +stately men and lovely women, who, from week to week, for many years, +had still hung delighted on his discourses, as though his lips had been +touched with fire, and all his words inspired! There they were around +him again! But oh! how different the relations and the circumstances! +There they sat, with stern brows and averted faces, or downcast eyes, +and "lips that scarce their scorn forbore." No eye or lip among them +responded kindly to his searching gaze, and Thurston turned his face +away again; for an instant his soul sunk under the pall of despair that +fell darkening upon it. It was not conviction in the court he thought +of--he would probably be acquitted by the court--but what should acquit +him in public opinion? The evidence that might not be strong enough to +doom him to death would still be sufficient to destroy forever his +position and his usefulness. No eye, thenceforth, would meet his own in +friendly confidence. No hand grasp his in brotherly fellowship. + +The State's Attorney was still proceeding with his speech. He was now +stating the case, which he promised to prove by competent witnesses--how +the prisoner at the bar had long pursued his beautiful but hapless +victim--how he had been united to her by a private marriage--that he had +corresponded with her from Europe--that upon his return they had +frequently met--that the prisoner, with the treachery that would soon be +proved to be a part of his nature, had grown weary of his wife, and +transferred his attentions to another and more fortune-favored lady--and +finally, that upon the evening of the murder he had decoyed the unhappy +young lady to the fatal spot, and then and there effected his purpose. +The prosecuting attorney made this statement, not with the brevity with +which it is here reported, but with a minuteness of detail and warmth of +coloring that harrowed up the hearts of all who heard it. He finished by +saying that he should call the witnesses in the order of time +corresponding with the facts they came to prove. + +"Oliver Murray will take the stand." + +This, the first witness called, after the usual oath, deposed that he +had first seen the prisoner and the deceased together in the Library of +Congress; had overheard their conversation, and suspecting some +unfairness on the part of the prisoner, had followed the parties to the +navy yard, where he had witnessed their marriage ceremony. + +"When was the next occasion upon which you saw the prisoner?" + +"On the night of the 8th of April, 182-, on the coast, near Pine Bluff. +I had landed from a boat, and was going inland when I passed him. I did +not see his face distinctly, but recognized him by his size and form, +and peculiar air and gait. He was hurrying away, with every mark of +terror and agitation." + +This portion of Mr. Murray's testimony was so new to all as to excite +the greatest degree of surprise, and in no bosom did it arouse more +astonishment than in that of Thurston. The witness was strictly +cross-questioned by the counsel for the prisoner, but the +cross-examination failed to weaken his testimony, or to elicit anything +more favorable to the accused. Oliver Murray was then directed to stand +aside. + +The next witness was Miriam Shields. Deeply veiled and half fainting, +the poor girl was led in between Colonel and Miss Thornton, and allowed +to sit while giving evidence. When told to look at the prisoner at the +bar, she raised her death-like face, and a deep, gasping sob broke from +her bosom. But Thurston fixed his eyes kindly and encouragingly upon +her--his look said plainly: "Fear nothing, dear Miriam! Be courageous! +Do your stern duty, and trust in God." + +Miriam then identified the prisoner as the man she had twice seen alone +with Marian at night. She further testified that upon the night of April +8th, 182-, Marian had left home late in the evening to keep an +appointment--from which she had never returned. That in the pocket of +the dress she had laid off was found the note appointing the meeting +upon the beach for the night in question. Here the note was produced. +Miriam identified the handwriting as that of Mr. Willcoxen. + +Paul Douglass was next called to the stand, and required to give his +testimony in regard to the handwriting. Paul looked at the piece of +paper that was placed before him, and he was sorely tempted. How could +he swear to the handwriting unless he had actually seen the hand write +it? he asked himself. He looked at his brother. But Thurston saw the +struggle in his mind, and his countenance was stern and high, and his +look authoritative, and commanding--it said: "Paul! do not dare to +deceive yourself. You know the handwriting. Speak the truth if it kill +me." And Paul did so. + +The next witness that took the stand was Dr. Brightwell--the good old +physician gave his evidence very reluctantly--it went to prove the fact +of the prisoner's absence from the deathbed of his grandfather upon the +night of the reputed murder, and his distracted appearance when +returning late in the morning. + +"Why do you say reputed murder?" + +"Because, sir, I never consider the fact of a murder established, until +the body of the victim has been found." + +"You may stand down." + +Dr. Solomon Weismann was next called to the stand, and corroborated the +testimony of the last witness. + +Several other witnesses were then called in succession, whose testimony +being only corroborative, was not very important. And the prisoner was +remanded, and the court adjourned until ten o'clock the next morning. + +"Life will be saved, but position and usefulness in this neighborhood +gone forever, Paul," said Thurston, as they went out. + +"Evidence very strong--very conclusive to our minds, yet not sufficient +to convict him," said one gentleman to another. + +"I am of honest Dr. Brightwell's opinion--that the establishment of a +murder needs as a starting point the finding of the body; and, moreover, +that the conviction of a murderer requires an eye-witness to the deed. +The evidence, so far as we have heard it, is strong enough to ruin the +man, but not strong enough to hang him," said a third. + +"Ay! but we have not heard all, or the most important part of the +testimony. The State's Attorney has not fired his great gun yet," said a +fourth, as the crowd elbowed, pushed, and struggled out of the +court-room. + +Those from distant parts of the county remained in the village all +night--those nearer returned home to come back in the morning. + +The second day of the trial, the village was more crowded than before. +At ten o'clock the court opened, the prisoner was shortly afterward +brought in, and the prosecution renewed its examination of witnesses. +The next witness that took the stand was a most important one. John +Miles, captain of the schooner _Plover_. He deposed that in the month of +April, 182-, he was mate in the schooner _Blanch_, of which his father +was the captain. That in said month the prisoner at the bar had hired +his father's vessel to carry off a lady whom the prisoner declared to be +his own wife; that they were to take her to the Bermudas. That to effect +their object, his father and himself had landed near Pine Bluff; the +night was dark, yet he soon discerned the lady walking alone upon the +beach. They were bound to wait for the arrival of the prisoner, and a +signal from him before approaching the lady. They waited some time, +watching from their cover the lady as she paced impatiently up and down +the sands. At length they saw the prisoner approaching. He was closely +wrapped up in his cloak, and his hat was pulled over his eyes, but they +recognized him well by his air and gait. They drew nearer still, keeping +in the shadow, waiting for the signal. The lady and the prisoner met--a +few words passed between them--of which he, the deponent, only heard +"Thurston?" "Yes, Thurston!" and then the prisoner raised his arm and +struck, and the lady fell. His father was a cautious man, and when he +saw the prisoner rush up the cliff and disappear, when he saw that the +lady was dead, and that the storm was beginning to rage violently and +the tide was coming in, and fearing, besides, that he should get into +trouble, he hurried into the boat and put off and boarded the schooner, +and as soon as possible set sail for Bermuda. They had kept away from +this coast for years, that is to say, as long as the father lived. + +John Miles was cross-examined by Mr. Romford, but without effect. + +This testimony bore fatally upon the prisoner's cause--the silence of +consternation reigned through the crowd. + +Thurston Willcoxen, when he heard this astounding evidence, first +thought that the witness was perjured, but when he looked closely upon +his open, honest face, and fearless eye and free bearing, he saw that no +consciousness of falsehood was there and he could but grant that the +witness, naturally deceived by "foregone conclusions," had inevitably +mistaken the real murderer for himself. + +Darker and darker lowered the pall of fate over him--the awful stillness +of the court was oppressive, was suffocating; a deathly faintness came +upon him, for now, for the first time, he fully realized the awful doom +that threatened him. Not long his nature bowed under the burden--his +spirit rose to throw it off, and once more the fine head was proudly +raised, nor did it once sink again. The last witness for the prosecution +was called and took the stand, and deposed that he lived ten miles down +the coast in an isolated, obscure place; that on the first of May, 182-, +the body of a woman had been found at low tide upon the beach, that it +had the appearance of having been very long in the water--the clothing +was respectable, the dress was dark blue stuff, but was faded in +spots--there was a ring on the finger, but the hand was so swollen that +it could not be got off. His poor neighbors of the coast assembled. They +made an effort to get the coroner, but he could not be found. And the +state of the body demanded immediate burial. When cross-questioned by +Lawyer Romford, the witness said that they had not then heard of any +missing or murdered lady, but had believed the body to be that of a +shipwrecked passenger, until they heard of Miss Mayfield's fate. + +Miriam was next recalled. She came in as before, supported between +Colonel and Miss Thornton. Every one who saw the poor girl, said that +she was dying. When examined, she deposed that Marian, when she left +home, had worn a blue merino dress--and, yes, she always wore a little +locket ring on her finger. Drooping and fainting as she was, Miriam was +allowed to leave the court-room. This closed the evidence of the +prosecution. + +The defense was taken up and conducted with a great deal of skill. Mr. +Romford enlarged upon the noble character his client had ever maintained +from childhood to the present time--they all knew him--he had been born +and had ever lived among them--what man or woman of them all would have +dared to suspect him of such a crime? He spoke warmly of his truth, +fidelity, Christian zeal, benevolence, philanthropy and great public +benefits. + +I have no space nor time to give a fair idea of the logic and eloquence +with which Mr. Romford met the charges of the State's Attorney, nor the +astute skill with which he tried to break down the force of the evidence +for the prosecution. Then he called the witnesses for the defense. They +were all warm friends of Mr. Willcoxen, all had known him from boyhood, +none would believe that under any possible circumstances he could commit +the crime for which he stood indicted. They testified to his well-known +kindness, gentleness and benevolence--his habitual forbearance and +command of temper, even under the most exasperating provocations--they +swore to his generosity, fidelity and truthfulness in all the relations +of life. In a word, they did the very best they could to save his life +and honor--but the most they could do was very little before the force +of such evidence as stood arrayed against him. And all men saw that +unless an _alibi_ could be proved, Thurston Willcoxen was lost! Oh! for +that _alibi_. Paul Douglass was again undergoing an awful temptation. +Why, he asked himself, why should he not perjure his soul, and lose it, +too, to save his brother's life and honor from fatal wrong? And if there +had not been in Paul's heart a love of truth greater than his fear of +hell, his affection for Thurston would have triumphed, he would have +perjured himself. + +The defense here closed. The State's Attorney did not even deem it +necessary to speak again, and the judge proceeded to charge the jury. +They must not, he said, be blinded by the social position, clerical +character, youth, talents, accomplishments or celebrity of the +prisoner--with however dazzling a halo these might surround him. They +must deliberate coolly upon the evidence that had been laid before them, +and after due consideration of the case, if there was a doubt upon their +minds, they were to let the prisoner have the full benefit of +it--wherever there was the least uncertainty it was right to lean to the +side of mercy. + +The case was then given to the jury. The jury did not leave their box, +but counseled together in a low voice for half an hour, during which a +death-like silence, a suffocating atmosphere filled the court-room. + +Thurston alone was calm, his soul had collected all its force to meet +the shock of whatever fate might come--honor or dishonor, life or death! + +Presently the foreman of the jury arose, followed by the others. + +Every heart stood still. + +"Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon your verdict?" demanded the +judge. + +"Yes, your honor," responded the foreman, on the part of his colleagues. + +"How say you--is the prisoner at the bar 'Guilty or not guilty?'" + +"Not guilty!" cried the shrill tones of a girl near the outer door, +toward which all eyes, in astonishment and inquiry, were now turned, to +see a slight female figure, in the garb of a Sister of Mercy, clinging +to the arm of Cloudesley Mornington, and who was now pushing and +elbowing his way through the crowd toward the bench. + +All gave way--many that were seated arose to their feet, and spoke in +eager whispers, or looked over each others' heads. + +"Order! silence in the court!" shouted the marshal. + +"Your honor--this lady is a vitally important witness for the defense," +said Cloudy, pushing his way into the presence of the judge, leaving his +female companion standing before the bench and then hurrying to the +dock, where he grasped the hand of the prisoner, exclaiming, +breathlessly: "Saved--Thurston! Saved!" + +"Order! silence!" called out the marshal, by way of making himself +agreeable--for there was silence in the court, where all the audience at +least were more anxious to hear than to speak. + +"Your honor, I move that the new witness be heard," said Mr. Romford. + +"The defense is closed--the charge given to the jury, who have decided +upon their verdict," answered the State's Attorney. + +"The verdict has not been rendered, the jury have the privilege of +hearing this new witness," said the judge. + +The jury were unanimous in the resolution to withhold their verdict +until they had heard. + +This being decided, the Sister of Mercy took the stand, threw aside her +long, black veil, and revealed the features of Jacquelina; but so pale, +weary, anxious and terrified, as to be scarcely recognizable. + +The usual oath was administered. + +And while Cloudy stood triumphantly by the side of Mr. Willcoxen, +Jacquelina prepared to give her evidence. + +She was interrupted by a slight disturbance near the door, and the +rather noisy entrance of several persons, whom the crowd, on beholding, +recognized as Commodore Waugh, his wife, his niece, and his servant. +Some among them seemed to insist upon being brought directly into the +presence of the judge and jury--but the officer near the door pointed +out to them the witness on the stand, waiting to give testimony; and on +seeing her they subsided into quietness, and suffered themselves to be +set aside for a while. + +When this was over--a lady, plainly dressed, and close-veiled, entered, +and addressed a few words to the same janitor. But the latter replied as +he had to the others, by pointing to the witness on the stand. The +veiled lady seemed to acquiesce, and sat down where the officer directed +her. + +"Order! silence in the court!" cried the marshal, not to be behindhand. + +And order and silence reigned when the Sister gave in her evidence as +follows: + +"My name is Jacquelina L'Oiseau--not Grimshaw--for I never was the wife +of Dr. Grimshaw. I do not like to speak further of myself, yet it is +necessary, to make my testimony clear. While yet a child I was +contracted to Dr. Grimshaw in a civil marriage, which was never +ratified. I was full of mischief in these days, and my greatest pleasure +was to torment and provoke my would-be bridegroom; alas! alas! it was to +that wanton spirit that all the disaster is owing. Thurston Willcoxen +and Marian Mayfield were my intimate friends. On the morning of the 8th +of April, 182-, they were both at Luckenough. Thurston left early. After +he was gone Marian chanced to drop a note, which I picked up and read. +It was in the handwriting of Thurston Willcoxen, and it appointed a +meeting with Marian upon the beach, near Pine Bluff, for that evening." + +Here Mr. Romford placed in her hands the scrap of paper that had already +formed such an important part of the evidence against the prisoner. + +"Is that the note of which you speak?" + +"Yes--that is the note. And when I picked it up the wanton spirit of +mischief inspired me with the wish to use it for the torment of Dr. +Grimshaw, who was easily provoked to jealously! Oh! I never thought it +would end so fatally! I affected to lose the note, and left it in his +way. I saw him pick it up and read it. I felt sure he thought--as I +intended he should think--it was for me. There were other circumstances +also to lead him to the same conclusion. He dropped the note where he +had picked it up and pretended not to have seen it; afterwards I in the +same way restored it to Marian. To carry on my fatal jest, I went home +in the carriage with Marian, to Old Field Cottage, which stands near the +coast. I left Marian there and set out to return to Luckenough--laughing +all the time, alas! to think that Dr. Grimshaw had gone to the coast to +intercept what he supposed to be my meeting with Thurston! Oh, God, I +never thought such jests could be so dangerous! Alas! alas! he met +Marian Mayfield in the dark, and between the storm without and the storm +within--the blindness of night and the blindness of rage--he stabbed her +before he found out his mistake, and he rushed home with her innocent +blood on his hands and clothing--rushed home and into my presence, to +reproach me as the cause of his crime, to fill my bosom with undying +remorse, and then to die! He had in the crisis of his passion, ruptured +an artery and fell--so that the blood found upon his hands and clothing +was supposed to be his own. No one knew the secret of his blood +guiltiness but myself. In my illness and delirium that followed I +believe I dropped some words that made my aunt, Mrs. Waugh, and Mr. +Cloudesley Mornington, suspect something; but I never betrayed my +knowledge of the dead man's unintentional crime, and would not do so +now, but to save the innocent. May I now sit down?" + +No! the State's Attorney wanted to take her in hand, and cross-examine +her, which he began to do severely, unsparingly. But as she had told the +exact truth, though not in the clearest style, the more the lawyer +sifted her testimony, the clearer and more evident its truthfulness and +point became; until there seemed at length nothing to do but acquit the +prisoner. But courts of law are proverbially fussy, and now the State's +Attorney was doing his best to invalidate the testimony of the last +witness. + +Turn we from them to the veiled lady, where she sat in her obscure +corner of the room, hearing all this. + +Oh! who can conceive, far less portray the joy, the unspeakable joy that +filled her heart nearly to breaking! He was guiltless! Thurston, her +beloved, was guiltless in intention, as he was in deed! the thought of +crime had not been near his heart! his long remorse had been occasioned +by what he had unintentionally made her suffer. He was all that he had +lately appeared to the world! all that he had at first appeared to +her!--faithful, truthful, constant, noble, generous--her heart was +vindicated! her love was not the madness, the folly, the weakness that +her intellectual nature had often stamped it to be! Her love was +vindicated, for he deserved it all! Oh! joy unspeakable--oh! joy +insupportable! + +She was a strong, calm, self-governing woman--not wont to be overcome by +any event or any emotion--yet now her head, her whole form, drooped +forward, and she sank upon the low balustrade in front of her +seat--weighed down by excess of happiness--happiness so absorbing that +for a time she forgot everything else; but soon she remembered that her +presence was required near the bench, to put a stop to the debate +between the lawyers, and she strove to quell the tumultuous excitement +of her feelings, and to recover self-command before going among them. + +In the meantime, near the bench, the counsel for the prisoner had +succeeded in establishing the validity of the challenged testimony, and +the case was once more about to be recommitted to the jury, when the +lady, who had been quietly making her way through the crowd toward the +bench, stood immediately in front of the judge, raised her veil, and +Marian Mayfield stood revealed. + +With a loud cry the prisoner sprang upon his feet; but was immediately +captured by two officers, who fancied he was about to escape. + +Marian did not speak one word, she could not do so, nor was it +necessary--there she stood alive among them--they all knew her--the +judge, the officers, the lawyers, the audience--there she stood alive +among them--it was enough! + +The audience arose in a mass, and "Marian!" "Marian Mayfield!" was the +general exclamation, as all pressed toward the newcomer. + +Jacquelina, stunned with the too sudden joy, swooned in the arms of +Cloudy, who, between surprise and delight, had nearly lost his own +senses. + +The people pressed around Marian, with exclamations and inquiries. + +The marshal forgot to be disorderly with vociferations of "Order!" and +stood among the rest, agape for news. + +Marian recovered her voice and spoke: + +"I am not here to give any information; what explanation I have to make +is due first of all to Mr. Willcoxen, who has the right to claim it of +me when he pleases," and turning around she moved toward the dock, +raising her eyes to Thurston's face, and offering her hand. + +How he met that look--how he clasped that hand--need not be said--their +hearts were too full for speech. + +The tumult in the court-room was at length subdued by the rising of the +judge to make a speech--a very brief one: + +"Mr. Willcoxen is discharged, and the court adjourned," and then the +judge came down from his seat, and the officers cried, "make way for the +court to pass." And the way was made. The judge came up to the group, +and shook hands first with Mr. Willcoxen, whom he earnestly +congratulated, and then with Marian, who was an old and esteemed +acquaintance, and so bowing gravely, he passed out. + +Still the crowd pressed on, and among them came Commodore Waugh and his +family, for whom way was immediately made. + +Mrs. Waugh wept and smiled, and exclaimed: "Oh! Hebe! Oh! Lapwing!" + +The commodore growled out certain inarticulate anathemas, which he +intended should be taken as congratulations, since the people seemed to +expect it of him. + +And Mary L'Oiseau pulled down her mouth, cast up her eyes and crossed +herself when she saw the consecrated hand of Sister Theresa clasped in +that of Cloudy! + +But Thurston's high spirit could not brook this scene an instant longer. +And love as well as pride required its speedy close. Marian was resting +on his arm--he felt the clasp of her dear hand--he saw her living +face--the angel brow--the clear eyes--the rich auburn tresses, rippling +around the blooming cheek--he heard her dulcet tones--yet--it seemed +too like a dream!--he needed to realize this happiness. + +"Friends," he said, "I thank you for the interest you show in us. For +those whose faith in me remained unshaken in my darkest hour, I find no +words good enough to express what I shall ever feel. But you must all +know how exhausting this day has been, and how needful repose is"--his +eyes here fell fondly and proudly upon Marian--"to this lady on my arm. +After to-morrow we shall be happy to see any of our friends at +Dell-Delight." And bowing slightly from right to left, he led his Marian +through the opening crowd. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +REUNION. + + +Who shall follow them, or intrude on the sacredness of their +reconciliation, or relate with what broken tones, and frequent stops and +tears and smiles, and clinging embraces, their mutual explanations were +made? + +At last Marian, raising her head from his shoulder, said: + +"But I come to you a bankrupt, dear Thurston! I have inherited and +expended a large fortune since we parted--and now I am more than +penniless, for I stand responsible for large sums of money owed by my +'Orphans Home' and 'Emigrants Help'--money that I had intended to raise +by subscription." + +"Now, I thank God abundantly for the wealth that He has given me. Your +fortune, dearest Marian, has been nobly appropriated--and for the rest, +it is my blessed privilege to assume all your responsibilities--and I +rejoice that they are great! for, sweetest wife, and fairest lady, I +feel that I never can sufficiently prove how much I love and reverence +you--how much I would and ought to sacrifice for you!" + +"And even now, dear Thurston, I came hither, bound on a mission to the +Western prairies, to find a suitable piece of land for a colony of +emigrants." + +"I know it, fairest and dearest lady, I know it all. I will lift that +burden from your shoulders, too, and all liabilities of yours do I +assume--oh! my dear Marian! with how much joy! and I will labor with and +for you, until all your responsibilities of every sort are discharged, +and my liege lady is free to live her own life!" + +This scene took place in the private parlor of the hotel, while Paul +Douglass was gone to Colonel Thornton's lodgings, to carry the glad +tidings to Miriam, and also to procure a carriage for the conveyance of +the whole party to Dell-Delight. + +He returned at last, accompanied by Miriam, whom he tenderly conducted +into the room, and who, passing by all others, tottered forward, and +sank, weeping, at the feet of Mr. Willcoxen, and clasping his knees, +still wept, as if her heart would break. + +Thurston stooped and raised her, pressed the kiss of forgiveness on her +young brow, and then whispered: + +"Miriam, have you forgotten that there is another here who claims your +attention?" took her by the hand and led her to Marian. + +The young girl was shy and silent, but Marian drew to her bosom, saying: + +"Has my 'baby' forgotten me? And so, you would have been an avenger, +Miriam. Remember, all your life, dear child, that such an office is +never to be assumed by an erring human creature. 'Vengeance is mine, and +I will repay, saith the Lord.'" And kissing Miriam fondly; she resigned +her to Paul's care, and turned, and gave her own hand to Thurston, who +conducted her to the carriage, and then returned for little Angel, who +all this time had sat demurely in a little parlor chair. + +They were followed by Paul and Miriam, and so set forth for +Dell-Delight. + +But little more remains to be told. + +Thurston resigned his pastoral charge of the village Church; settled up +his business in the neighborhood; procured a discreet woman to keep +house at Dell-Delight; left Paul, Miriam and poor Fanny in her care, and +set out with Marian on their western journey, to select the site for the +settlement of her emigrant _protégés_. After successfully accomplishing +this mission, they returned East, and embarked for Liverpool, and thence +to London, where Marian dissolved her connection with the "Emigrants' +Help," and bade adieu to her "Orphans' Home." Thurston made large +donations to both these institutions. And Marian saw that her place was +well supplied to the "Orphans' Home" by another competent woman. Then +they returned to America. Their travels had occupied more than twelve +months. And their expenses, of all sorts, had absorbed more than a third +of Mr. Willcoxen's princely fortune--yet with what joy was it lavished +by his hand, who felt he could not do too much for his priceless Marian. + +On their return home a heartfelt gratification met them--it was that the +parish had shown their undiminished confidence in Mr. Willcoxen, and +their high appreciation of his services, by keeping his pulpit open for +him. And a few days after his settlement at home a delegation of the +vestry waited upon him to solicit his acceptance of the ministry. And +after talking with his "liege lady," as he fondly and proudly termed +Marian, Mr. Willcoxen was well pleased to return a favorable answer. + +And in a day or two Thurston and Marian were called upon to give +decision in another case, to wit: + +Jacquelina had not returned to Bethlehem, nor renewed her vows; but had +doffed her nun's habit for a young lady's dress, and remained at +Luckenough. Cloudy had not failed to push his suit with all his might. +But Jacquelina still hesitated--she did not know, she said, but she +thought she had no right to be happy, as other people had, she had +caused so much trouble in the world, she reckoned she had better go back +to her convent. + +"And because you unintentionally occasioned some sorrow, now happily +over, to some people, you would atone for the fault by adding one more +to the list of victims, and making me miserable. Bad logic, Lina, and +worse religion." + +Jacquelina did not know--she could not decide--after so many grave +errors, she was afraid to trust herself. The matter was then +referred--of all men in the world--to the commodore, who graciously +replied, that they might go to the demon for him. But as Cloudy and Lina +had no especial business with his Satanic Majesty they declined to avail +themselves of the permission, and consulted Mrs. Waugh, whose deep, +mellow laugh preceded her answer, when she said: + +"Take heart, Lapwing! take heart, and all the happiness you can possibly +get! I have lived a long time, and seen a great many people, good and +bad, and though I have sometimes met people who were not so happy as +they merited--yet I never have seen any one happier than they deserved +to be! and that they cannot be so, seems to be a law of nature that +ought to reconcile us very much to the apparent flourishing of the +wicked." + +But Mrs. L'Oiseau warned her daughter not to trust to "Aunty," who +was so good-natured, and although such a misguided woman, that if she +had her will she would do away with all punishment--yes, even with +Satan and purgatory! But Jacquelina had much less confidence in Mrs. +L'Oiseau than in Mrs. Waugh; and so she told Cloudy, who thought that +he had waited already quite long enough, to wait until Marian and +Thurston came home, and if they thought it would be right for her to be +happy--why--then--maybe--she might be! But the matter must be referred +to them. + +And now it was referred to them, by the sorely tried Cloudy. And they +gave Jacquelina leave to be "happy." And she was happy! And as for +Cloudy, poor, constant fellow! he was so overjoyed that he declared he +would petition the Legislature to change his name as no longer +appropriate, for though his morning had been cloudy enough, his day was +going to be a very bright one! + +When Mrs. L'Oiseau heard of this engagement, she crossed herself, and +told her beads, and vowed that the world was growing so wicked that she +could no longer live in it. And she commenced preparations to retire to +a convent, to which in fact she soon after went, and where in strict +truth, she was likely to be much happier than her nature would permit +her to be elsewhere. + +Cloudy and Lina were very quietly married, and took up their abode at +the pleasant farmhouse of Locust Hill, which was repaired and +refurnished for their reception. But if the leopard cannot change his +spots, nor the Ethiope his skin--neither can the fairy permanently +change her nature; for no sooner was Jacko's happiness secured, than the +elfish spirit, the lightest part of her nature, effervesced to the +top--for the torment of Cloudy. Jacko and Cloudy, even, had one +quarrel--it was upon the first occasion after their marriage, of his +leaving her to join his ship--and when the whilom Sister of Charity +drove Cloudy nearly frantic by insisting--whether in jest or earnest no +one on earth could tell--upon donning the little middy's uniform and +going with him! However, the quarrel happily was never renewed, for +before the next time of sailing, there appeared a certain tiny Cloudy at +home, that made the land quite as dear as the sea to its mother. And +this little imp became Mrs. Waugh's especial pet. And if Jacquelina did +not train the little scion very straight, at least she did not twist him +awry. And she even tried, in her fitful, capricious way, to reform her +own manners, that she might form those of her little children. And Mrs. +Waugh and dear Marian aided her and encouraged her in her uncertain +efforts. + +About this time, Paul and Miriam were united, and went to housekeeping +in the pretty villa built for them upon the site of Old Field Cottage by +Thurston, and furnished for them by Mrs. Waugh. + +And a very pleasant country neighborhood they formed--these three young +families--of Dell-Delight, Locust Hill and the villa. + +Two other important events occurred in their social circle--first, poor +harmless Fanny passed smilingly to her heavenly home, and all thought it +very well. + +And one night Commodore Waugh, after eating a good, hearty supper, was +comfortably tucked up in bed, and went into a sound, deep sleep from +which he never more awoke. May he rest in peace. But do you think Mrs. +Waugh did not cry about it for two weeks, and ever after speak of him as +the poor, dear commodore? + +But Henrietta was of too healthful a nature to break her heart for the +loss of a very good man, and it was not likely she was going to do so +for the missing of a very uncomfortable one; and so in a week or two +more her happy spirits returned, and she began to realize to what +freedom, ease and cheerfulness she had fallen heir! Now she could live +and breathe, and go and come without molestation. Now when she wished to +open her generous heart to the claims of affection in the way of helping +Lapwing or Miriam, who were neither of them very rich--or to the greater +claims of humanity in the relief of the suffering poor, or the pardon of +delinquent servants, she could do so to her utmost content, and without +having to accompany her kind act with a deep sigh at the anticipation of +the parlor storm it would raise at home. And though Mrs. Henrietta still +"waxed fat," her good flesh was no longer an incumbrance to her--the +leaven of cheerfulness lightened the whole mass. + +Mrs. Waugh had brought her old maid Jenny back. Jenny had begged to come +home to "old mistress" for she said it was "'stonishin how age-able," +she felt, though nobody might believe it, she was "gettin' oler and +oler, ebery singly day" of her life, and she wanted to end her days +"'long o' ole mistress." + +Old mistress was rich and good, and Luckenough was a quiet, comfortable +home, where the old maid was very sure of being lodged, boarded, and +clothed almost as well as old mistress herself--not that these selfish +considerations entered largely into Jenny's mind, for she really loved +Mrs. Henrietta. + +And old mistress and old maid were never happier than on some fine, +clear day, when seated on their two old mules, they ambled along through +forest and over field, to spend a day with Lapwing or with Hebe--or +perhaps with the "Pigeon Pair," as they called the new married couple at +the villa. + +Yes; there was a time when Mrs. Henrietta was happier still! It was, +when upon some birthday or other festival, she would gather all the +young families--Thurston and Hebe, Cloudy and Lapwing, the Pigeons, and +all the babies, in the big parlor of Luckenough, and sit surrounded by a +flock of tiny lapwings, hebes and pigeons, forming a group that our +fairy saucily called, "The old hen and chickens." + +And what shall we say in taking leave of Thurston and Marian? He had had +some faults, as you have seen--but the conquering of faults is the +noblest conquest, and he had achieved such a victory. He called Marian +the angel of his salvation. Year by year their affection deepened and +strengthened, and drew them closer in heart and soul and purpose. From +their home as from a center emanated a healthful, beneficent and +elevating influence, happily felt through all their social circle. A +lovely family grew around them--and among the beautiful children none +were more tenderly nursed or carefully trained than the little waif, +Angel. And in all the pleasant country neighborhood, the sweetest and +the happiest home is that of Dell-Delight. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14382 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8f8837c --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #14382 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14382) diff --git a/old/14382-8.txt b/old/14382-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7997bde --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14382-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12229 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Missing Bride, by Mrs. E. D. E. N. +Southworth + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Missing Bride + +Author: Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth + +Release Date: December 20, 2004 [eBook #14382] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MISSING BRIDE*** + + +E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +THE MISSING BRIDE + +A Novel + +by + +MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH + +Author of _Self-Raised_, _Ishmael_, _Retribution_, _The Bridal Eve_, +_The Bride's Fate_, _Mother-in-Law_, _The Haunted Homestead_, _The +Bride's Dowry_, _Victor's Triumph_, _A Fortune Seeker_, etc. + + + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +LUCKENOUGH. + + +Deep in the primeval forest of St. Mary's, lying between the Patuxent +and the Wicomico Rivers, stands the ancient manor house of Luckenough. + +The traditions of the neighborhood assert the origin of the manor and +its quaint, happy and not unmusical name to have been--briefly this: + +That the founder of Luckenough was Alexander Kalouga, a Polish soldier +of fortune, some time in the service of Cecilius Calvert, Baron of +Baltimore, first Lord Proprietary of Maryland. This man had, previous to +his final emigration to the New World, passed through a life of the most +wonderful vicissitudes--wonderful even for those days of romance and +adventure. It was said that he was born in one quarter of the globe, +educated in another, initiated into warfare in the third and buried in +the fourth. In his boyhood he was the friend and pupil of Guy Fawkes; he +engaged in the Gunpowder Plot, and after witnessing the terrible fate of +his master, he escaped to Spanish America, where he led for years a sort +of buccaneer life. He afterwards returned to Europe, and then followed +years of military service wherever his hireling sword was needed. But +the soldier of fortune was ill-paid by his mistress. His misfortunes +were as proverbial as his bravery, or as his energetic complaints of +"ill luck" could make them. He had drawn his sword in almost every +quarrel of his time, on every battlefield in Europe, to find himself, +at the end of his military career, no richer than he was at its +beginning--save in wounds and scars, honor and glory, and a wife and +son. It was at this point of his life that he met with Leonard Calvert, +and embarked with him for Maryland, where he afterwards received from +the Lord Proprietary the grant of the manor "aforesaid." It is stated +that when the old soldier went with some companions to take a look at +his new possessions, he was so pleased with the beauty, grandeur, +richness and promise of the place that a glad smile broke over his dark, +storm-beaten, battle-scarred face, and he remained still "smiling as in +delighted visions," until one of his friends spoke and said: + +"Well, comrade! Is this luck enough?" + +"Yaw, mine frient!" answered the new lord of the manor in his broken +English, cordially grasping the hand of his companion, "dish ish loke +enough!" + +Different constructions have been put upon this simple answer--first, +that Lukkinnuf was the original Indian name of the tract; secondly, that +Alexander Kalouga christened his manor in honor of Loekenoff, the native +village of his wife, the heroic Marie Zelenski, the companion of all his +campaigns and voyages, and the first lady of his manor; thirdly, that +the grateful and happy soldier had only meant to express his perfect +satisfaction with his fortune, and to say: + +"Yes, this is luck enough! luck enough to repay me for all the past!" +Be it as it may, from time immemorial the place has been "Luckenough." + +The owner in 1814 was Commodore Nickolas Waugh, who inherited the +property in right of his mother, the only child and heiress of Peter +Kalouga. + +This man had the constitution and character, not of his mother's, but of +his father's family--a hardy, rigorous, energetic Montgomery race, full +of fire, spirit and enterprise. At the age of twelve Nickolas lost his +father. + +At fifteen he began to weary of the tedium of Luckenough, varied only by +the restraint of the academy during term. And at sixteen he rebelled +against the rule of his indolent lymphatic mamma, broke through the +reins of domestic government, escaped to Baltimore and shipped as cabin +boy in a merchantman. + +Nickolas Waugh went through many adventures, served on board +merchantmen, privateers and haply pirates, too, sailed to every part of +the known world, and led a wild, reckless and sinful life, until the +breaking out of the Revolutionary War, when he took service with Paul +Jones, the American Sea King, and turned the brighter part of his +character up to the light. He performed miracles of valor--achieved for +himself a name and a post-captain's rank in the infant navy and finally +was permitted to retire with a bullet lodged under his shoulder blade, a +piece of silver trepanned in the top of his skull, a deep sword-cut +across his face from the right temple over his nose to the left +cheek--and with the honorary title of commodore. + +He was a perfect beauty about this time, no doubt, but that did not +prevent him from receiving the hand of his cousin Henrietta Kalouga, who +had waited for him many a weary year. + +No children blessed his late marriage, and as year after year passed, +until himself and his wife were well stricken in years, people, who +never lost interest in the great estate, began to wonder to which among +his tribe of impoverished relations Nickolas Waugh would bequeath the +manor of Luckenough. + +His choice fell at length upon his orphan grandniece, the beautiful +Edith Lance, whom he took from the Catholic Orphan Asylum, where she had +found refuge since the death of her parents and placed in one of the +best convent schools in the South. + +At the age of seventeen Edith was brought home from school and +established at Luckenough as the adopted daughter and acknowledged +heiress of her uncle. + +Delicate, dreamy and retiring, and tinged with a certain pensiveness, +the effect of too much early sorrow and seclusion upon a very sensitive +temperament, Edith better loved the solitude of the grand old forest of +St. Mary's or the loneliness of her own shaded rooms at Luckenough than +any society the humdrum neighborhood could offer her. And when at the +call of social duty she did go into company, she exercised a refining +and subduing influence, involuntary as it was potent. + +Yet in that lovely, fragile form, in that dreaming, poetical soul, lay +undeveloped a latent power of heroism soon to be aroused into action. +"Darling of all hearts and eyes," Edith had been at home a year when the +War of 1812 broke out. + +Maryland, as usual, contributed her large proportion of volunteers to +the defense of the country. All men capable of bearing arms rapidly +mustered into companies and hastened to put themselves at the disposal +of the government. + +The lower counties of Maryland were left comparatively unprotected. Old +men, women, children and negroes were all that remained in charge of the +farms and plantations. Yet remote from the scenes of conflict and +hitherto undisturbed by the convulsions of the great world, they reposed +in fancied safety and never thought of such unprecedented misfortunes as +the evils of the war penetrating to their quiet homes. + +But their rest of security was broken by a tremendous shock. The British +fleet under Admiral Sir A. Cockburn suddenly entered the Chesapeake. And +the quiet, lonely shores of the bay became the scene of a warfare +scarcely paralleled in atrocity in ancient or modern times. + +If among the marauding band of licensed pirates and assassins there was +one name more dreaded, more loathed and accursed than the rest, it was +that of the brutal and ferocious Thorg--the frequent leader of foraging +parties, the unsparing destroyer of womanhood, infancy and age, the +jackal and purveyor of Admiral Cockburn. If anywhere there was a +beautiful woman unprotected, or a rich plantation house ill-defended, +this jackal was sure to scent out "the game" for his master, the lion. +And many were the comely maidens and youthful wives seized and carried +off by this monster. + +The Patuxent and the Wicomico, with the coast between them, offered no +strong temptation to a rapacious foe, and the inhabitants reposed in the +fancied security of their isolation and unimportance. The business of +life went on, faintly and sorrowfully, to be sure, but still went on. +The village shops at B---- and C---- were kept open, though tended +chiefly by women and boys. The academicians at the little college +pursued their studies or played at forming juvenile military companies. +The farms and plantations were cultivated chiefly under the direction of +ladies whose husbands, sons and brothers were absent with the army. No +one thought of danger to St. Mary's. + +Most terrible was the awakening from this dream of safety, when, on the +morning of the 17th of August, the division under the command of Admiral +Cockburn--the most dreaded and abhorred of all--was seen to enter the +mouth of the Patuxent in full sail for Benedict. Nearly all the +able-bodied men were absent with the army at the time when the combined +military and naval forces tinder Admiral Cockburn and General Ross +landed at that place. None remained to guard the homes but aged men, +women, infants and negroes. A universal panic seized the neighborhood +and nothing occurred to the defenseless people but instant flight. +Females and children were hastily put into carriages, the most valuable +items of plate or money hastily packed up, negroes mustered and the +whole caravan put upon a hurried march for Prince George's, Montgomery +or other upper counties of the State. With very few exceptions, the +farms and plantations were evacuated and left to the mercy of the +invaders. + +At sunrise all was noise, bustle and confusion at Luckenough. + +The lawn was filled with baggage wagons, horses, mules, cows, oxen, +sheep, swine, baskets of poultry, barrels of provisions, boxes of +property, and men and maid servants hurrying wildly about among them, +carrying trunks and parcels, loading carts, tackling harness, marshaling +cattle and making other preparations for a rapid retreat toward +Commodore Waugh's patrimonial estate in Montgomery County. + +Edith was placed upon her pony and attended by her old maid Jenny and +her old groom Oliver. + +Commodore and Mrs. Waugh entered the family carriage, which they pretty +well filled up. Mrs. Waugh's woman sat upon the box behind and the +Commodore's man drove the coach. + +And the whole family party set forward on their journey. They went in +advance of the caravan so as not to be hindered and inconvenienced by +its slow and cumbrous movements. A ride of three miles through the old +forest brought them to the open, hilly country. Here the road forked. +And here the family were to separate. + +It had been arranged that as Edith was too delicate to bear the forced +march of days' and nights' continuance before they could reach +Montgomery, she should proceed to Hay Hill, a plantation near the line +of Charles County, owned by Colonel Fairlie, whose young daughter Fanny, +recently made a bride, had been the schoolmate of Edith. + +Here, at the fork, the party halted to take leave. + +Commodore Waugh called his niece to ride up to the carriage window and +gave her many messages for Colonel Fairlie, for Fanny and for Fanny's +young bridegroom, and many charges to be careful and prudent, and not to +ride out unattended, etc. + +And then he called up the two old negroes and charged them to see their +young mistress safely at Hay Hill and then to return to Luckenough and +take care of the house and such things as were felt behind in case the +British should not visit it, and to shut up the house after them in case +they should come and rob it and leave it standing. Two wretched old +negroes would be in little personal danger from the soldiers. + +So argued Commodore Waugh as he took leave of them and gave orders for +the carriage to move on up the main branch of the road leading north +toward Prince George's and Montgomery. + +But so argued not the poor old negroes, as they followed Edith up the +west branch of the road that led to Charles County. + +This pleasant road ran along the side of a purling brook under the +shadow of the great trees that skirted the forest, and Edith ambled +leisurely along, low humming to herself some pretty song or listening +to the merry carols of the birds or noticing the speckled fish that +gamboled through the dark, glimmering stream or reverting to the subject +of her last reading. + +But beneath all this childish play of fancy, one grave, sorrowful +thought lay heavy upon Edith's tender heart. It was the thought of poor +old Luckenough "deserted at its utmost need" to the ravages of the foe. +Then came the question if it were not possible, in case of the house +being attacked, to save it--even for her to save it. While these things +were brewing in Edith's mind, she rode slowly and more slowly, until at +length her pony stopped. Then she noticed for the first time the heavy, +downcast looks of her attendants. + +"What is the matter?" she asked. + +"Oh! Miss Edith, don't ask me, honey--don't! Ain't we-dem got to go back +to de house and stay dar by our two selves arter we see you safe?" said +Jenny, crying. + +"No! what? you two alone!" exclaimed Edith, looking from one to the +other. + +"Yes, Miss Edith, 'deed we has, chile--but you needn't look so 'stonish +and 'mazed. You can't help of it, chile. An' if de British do come dar +and burn de house and heave we-dem into de fire jes' out of wanton, +it'll only be two poor, ole, unvaluable niggers burned up. Ole marse +know dat well enough--dat's de reason he resks we." + +"But for what purpose have you to return?" asked Edith, wondering. + +"Oh! to feed de cattle and de poultry? and take care o' de things dat's +lef behine," sobbed Jenny, now completely broken down by her terrors. "I +know--I jis does--how dem white niggers o' Co'bu'ns 'ill set de house o' +fire, an' heave we-dem two poor old innocen's into de flames out'n pure +debblish wanton!" + +Edith passed her slender fingers through her curls, stringing them out +as was her way when absent in thought. She was turning the whole matter +over in her mind. She might possibly save the mansion, though these two +old people were not likely to be able to do so--on the contrary, their +ludicrous terrors would tend to stimulate the wanton cruelty of the +marauders to destroy them with the house. Edith suddenly took her +resolution, and turned her horse's head, directing her attendants to +follow. + +"But where are you going to go, Miss Edith?" asked her groom, Oliver, +now speaking for the first time. + +"Back to Luckenough." + +"What for, Miss Edith, for goodness sake?" + +"Back to Luckenough to guard the dear old house, and take care of you +two." + +"But oh, Miss Edy! Miss Edy! for Marster in heaven's sake what'll come +o' you?" + +"What the Master in heaven wills!" + +"Lord, Lord, Miss Edy! ole marse 'ill kill we-dem. What 'ill old marse +say? What 'ill everybody say to a young gal a-doin' of anything like dat +dar? Oh, dear! dear! what will everybody say?" + +"They will say," said Edith, "if I meet the enemy and save the +house--they will say that Edith Lance is a heroine, and her name will be +probably preserved in the memory of the neighborhood. But if I fail and +lose my life, they will say that Edith was a cracked-brained girl who +deserved her fate, and that they had always predicted she would come to +a bad end." + +"Better go on to Hay Hill, Miss Edy! 'Deed, 'fore marster, better go to +Hay Hill." + +"No," said the young girl, "my resolution is taken--we will return to +Luckenough." + +The arguments of the old negroes waxed fainter and fewer. They felt a +vague but potent confidence in Edith and her abilities, and a sense of +protection in her presence, from which they were loth to part. + +The sun was high when they entered the forest shades again. + +"See," said Edith to her companions, "everything is so fresh and +beautiful and joyous here! I cannot even imagine danger." + +Edith on reaching Luckenough retired to bed, and addressed herself to +sleep. It was in vain--her nerves were fearfully excited. In vain she +tried to combat her terrors--they completely overmastered her. She was +violently shocked out of a fitful doze. + +Old Jenny stood over her, lifting her up, shaking her, and shouting in +her ears: + +"Miss Edith! Miss Edith! They are here! They are here! We shall be +murdered in our beds!" + +In the room stood old Oliver, gray with terror, while all the dogs on +the premises were barking madly, and a noisy party at the front was +trying to force an entrance. + +Violent knocking and shaking at the outer door and the sound of voices. + +"Open! open! let us in! for God's sake, let us in!" + +"Those are fugitives--not foes--listen--they plead--they do not +threaten--go and unbar the door, Oliver," said Edith. + +Reluctantly and cautiously the old man obeyed. + +"Light another candle, Jenny--that is dying in its socket--it will be +out in a minute." + +Trembling all over, Jenny essayed to do as she was bid, but only +succeeded in putting out the expiring light. The sound of the unbarring +of the door had deprived her of the last remnant of self-control. Edith +struck a light, while the sound of footsteps and voices in the hall +warned her that several persons had entered. + +"It's Nell, and Liddy, and Sol, from Hay Hill! Oh, Miss Edy! Thorg and +his men are up dar a 'stroyin' everything! Oh, Miss Edy! an' us thought +it was so safe an' out'n de way up dar! Oh, what a 'scape! what a 'scape +we-dem has had!" + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE ATTACK. + + +That summer day was so holy in its beauty, so bright, so clear, so cool; +that rural scene was so soothing in its influences, so calm, so fresh, +so harmonious; it was almost impossible to associate with that lovely +day and scene thoughts of wrong and violence and cruelty. So felt Edith +as she sometimes lifted her eyes from her work to the beauty and glory +of nature around her. And if now her heart ached it was more with grief +for Fanny's fate than dread of her own. There comes, borne upon the +breeze that lifts her dark tresses, and fans her pearly cheeks, the +music of many rural voices--of rippling streams and rustling leaves and +twittering birds and humming bees. + +But mingled with these, at length, there comes to her attentive ear a +sound, or the suspicion of a sound, of distant horse hoofs falling upon +the forest leaves--it draws nearer--it becomes distinct--she knows it +now--it is--it is a troop of British soldiers approaching the house! + +They rode in a totally undisciplined and disorderly manner; reeling in +their saddles, drunken with debauchery, red-hot, reeking from some scene +of fire and blood! + +And in no condition to be operated upon by Edith's beautiful and holy +influences. + +They galloped into the yard--they galloped up to the house--their leader +threw himself heavily from his horse and advanced to the door. + +It was the terrible and remorseless Thorg! No one could doubt the +identity for a single instant. The low, square-built, thick-set body, +the huge head, the bull neck, heavy jowl, coarse, sensual lips, +bloodshot eyes, and fiery visage surrounded with coarse red hair--the +whole brutalized, demonized aspect could belong to no monster in the +universe but that cross between the fiend and the beast called Thorg! +And now he came, intoxicated, inflamed, burning with fierce passions +from some fell scene of recent violence! + +Pale as death, and nearly as calm, Edith awaited his coming. She could +not hope to influence this man or his associates. She knew her fate +now--it was death!--death by her own hand, before that man's foot should +profane her threshold! She knew her fate, and knowing it, grew calm and +strong. There were no more hopes or fears or doubts or trepidations. +Over the weakness of the flesh the spirit ruled victorious, and Edith +stood revealed to herself richly endowed with that heroism she had so +worshiped in others--in that supreme moment mistress of herself and of +her fate. To die by her own hand! but not rashly--not till a trial +should be made--not till the last moment. And how beautiful in this +last fateful moment she looked! The death pallor had passed from her +countenance--the summer breeze was lifting the light black curls--soft +shadows were playing upon the pearly brow--a strange elevation +irradiated her face, and it "shone as it had been the face of an angel." + +"By George! boys, what a pretty wench! Keep back, you d----d rascals!" +(for the men had dismounted and were pressing behind him) "keep back, I +say, you drunken ----! Let rank have precedence in love as in other +things! Your turn may come afterward! Ho! pretty mistress, has your +larder the material to supply my men with a meal?" + +Edith glanced around for her attendants. Jenny lay upon the hall floor, +fallen forward upon her face, in a deep swoon. Oliver stood out upon the +lawn, his teeth chattering, and his knees knocking together with terror, +yet faintly meditating a desperate onslaught to the rescue with his +wooden rake. + +"No matter! for first of all we must have a taste of those dainty lips; +stand back, bl--t you," he vociferated with a volley of appalling oaths, +that sent the disorderly men, who were again crowding behind him, back +into the rear; "we would be alone, d---- you; do you hear?" + +The drunken soldiers fell back, and he advanced toward Edith, who stood +calm in desperate resolution. She raised her hand to supplicate or wave +him off, he did not care which--her other hand, hanging down by her +side, grasped the pistol, which she concealed in the folds of her dress. + +"Hear me," she said, "one moment, I beseech you!" + +The miscreant paused. + +"Proceed, my beauty! Only don't let the grace before meat be too long." + +"I am a soldier's child," said Edith; her sweet, clear voice slightly +quavering like the strings of a lute over which the wind has passed; "I +am a soldier's child--my father died gallantly on the field of battle. +You are soldiers, and will not hurt a soldier's orphan daughter." + +"Not for the universe, my angel; bl----t 'em! let any of 'em hurt a hair +of your head! I only want to love you a little, my beauty! that's +all!--only want to pet you to your heart's content;" and the brute made +a step toward her. + +"Hear me!" exclaimed Edith, raising her hand. + +"Well, well, go on, my dear, only don't be too long!--for my men want +something to eat and drink, and I have sworn not to break my fast until +I know the flavor of those ripe lips." + +Edith's fingers closed convulsively upon the pistol still held bidden. + +"I am alone and defenseless," she said; "I remained here, voluntarily, +to protect our home, because I had faith in the better feelings of men +when they should be appealed to. I had heard dreadful tales of the +ravages of the enemy through neighboring sections of the country. I did +not fully believe them. I thought them the exaggerations of terror, and +knew how such stories grow in the telling. I could not credit the worst, +believing, as I did, the British nation to be an upright and honorable +enemy--British soldiers to be men--and British officers gentlemen. Sir, +have I trusted in vain? Will you not let me and my servants retire in +peace? All that the cellars and storehouses of Luckenough contain is at +your disposal. You will leave myself and attendants unmolested. I have +not trusted in the honor of British soldiers to my own destruction!" + +"A pretty speech, my dear, and prettily spoken--but not half so +persuasive as the sweet wench that uttered it," said Thorg, springing +toward her. + +Edith suddenly raised the pistol--an expression of deadly determination +upon her face. + +Thorg as suddenly fell back. He was an abominable coward in addition to +his other qualities. + +"Seize that girl! Seize and disarm her! What mean you, rascals? Are you +to be foiled by a girl? Seize and disarm her, I say! Are you men?" + +Yes, they were men, and therefore, drunken and brutal as they were, they +hesitated to close upon one helpless girl. + +"H--l fire and furies! surround! disarm her, I say!" vociferated Thorg. + +Edith stood, her hand still grasping the pistol--her other one raised in +desperate entreaty. + +"Oh! one moment! for heaven's sake, one moment! Still hear me! I would +not have fired upon your captain! Nor would I fire upon one of you, who +close upon me only at your captain's order. There is something within me +that shrinks from taking life! even the life of an enemy--any life but +my own, and that only in such a desperate strait as this. Oh! by the +mercy that is in my own heart, show mercy to me! You are men! You have +mothers, or sisters, or wives at home, whom you hope to meet again, when +war and its insanities are over. Oh! for their sakes, show mercy to the +defenseless girl who stands here in your power! Do not compel her to +shed her own blood! for, sure as you advance one step toward me, I pull +this trigger, and fall dead at your feet." And Edith raised the pistol +and placed the muzzle to her own temple--her finger against the trigger. + +The men stood still--the captain swore. + +"H--l fire and flames! Do you intend to stand there all day, to hear the +wench declaim? Seize her, curse you! Wrench that weapon from her hand." + +"Not so quick as I can pull the trigger!" said Edith--her eyes blazing +with the sense of having fate--the worst of fate in her own hands; it +was but a pressure of the finger, to be made quick as lightning, and she +was beyond their power! Her finger was on the trigger--the muzzle of the +pistol, a cold ring of steel, pressed her burning temple! She felt it +kindly--protective as a friend's kiss! + +"Seize her! Seize her, curse you!" cried the brutal Thorg, "what care I +whether she pull the trigger or not? Before the blood cools in her body, +I will have had my satisfaction! Seize her, you infernal--" + +"Captain, countermand your order! I beg, I entreat you, countermand your +order! You yourself will greatly regret having given it, when you are +calmer," said a young officer, riding hastily forward, and now, for the +first time, taking a part in the scene. + +An honorable youth in a band of licensed military marauders. + +"'Sdeath, sir! Don't interfere with me! Seize her, rascals!" + +"One step more, and I pull the trigger!" said Edith. + +"Captain Thorg! This must not be!" persisted the young officer. + +"D--n, sir! Do you oppose me? Do you dare? Fall back, sir, I command +you! Scoundrels! close upon that wench and bind her!" + +"Captain Thorg! This shall not be! Do you hear? Do you understand? I say +this violence shall not be perpetrated!" said the young officer, firmly. + +"D--n, sir! Are you drunk, or mad? You are under arrest, sir! Corporal +Truman, take Ensign Shields' sword!" + +The young man was quickly disarmed, and once more the captain +vociferated: + +"Knock down and disarm that vixen! Obey your orders, villains! Or by +h--l, and all its fiends, I'll have you all court-martialed, and shot +before to-morrow noon!" + +The soldiers closed around the unprotected girl. + +"Lord, all merciful! forgive my sins," she prayed, and with a firm hand +pulled the trigger! + +It did not respond to her touch--it failed! it failed! + +Casting the traitorous weapon from her, she sunk upon her knees, +murmuring: + +"Lost--lost--all is lost!" remained crushed, overwhelmed, awaiting her +fate! + +"Ha! ha! ha! as pretty a little make-believe as ever I saw!" laughed the +brutal Thorg, now perfectly at his ease, and gloating over her beauty, +and helplessness, and, deadly terror. "As pretty a little sham as ever I +saw!" + +"It was no sham! She couldn't sham! I drawed out the shot unbeknownst to +her! I wish, I does, my fingers had shriveled and dropped off afore they +ever did it!" exclaimed Oliver, in a passion of remorse, as he ran +forward, rake in hand. + +He was quickly thrown down and disarmed--no one had any hesitation in +dealing with him. + +"Now then, my fair!" said Thorg, moving toward his victim. + +Edith was now wild with desperation--her eyes flew wildly around in +search of help, where help there seemed none. Then she turned with the +frenzied impulse of flying. + +But the men surrounded to cut off her retreat. + +"Nay, nay, let her run! Let her run! Give her a fair start, and do you +give chase! It will be the rarest sport! Fox-hunting is a good thing, +but girl-chasing must be the very h--l of sport, when I tell you--mind, +I tell you, men--she shall be the exclusive prize of him who catches +her!" swore the remorseless Thorg. + +Edith had gained the back door. + +They started in pursuit. + +"Now, by the living Lord that made me, the first man that lays hands on +her shall die!" suddenly exclaimed the young ensign, wresting his sword +from the hand of the corporal, springing between Edith and her pursuers, +flashing out the blade, and brandishing it in the faces of the foremost. + +He was but a stripling, scarcely older than Edith's self--the arm that +wielded that slender blade scarcely stronger than Edith's own--but the +fire that flashed from the eagle eye showed a spirit to rescue or die in +her defense. + +Thorg threw himself into the most frantic fury--a volley of the most +horrible oaths was discharged from his lips. + +"Upon that villain, men! Beat him down! Slay him! Pin him to the ground +with your bayonets! And then! do your will with the girl!" + +But before this fiendish order could be executed, ay, before it was half +spoken, whirled into the yard a body or about thirty horsemen, galloping +fiercely to the rescue with drawn swords and shouting voices. + +They were nearly three times the number of the foraging soldiers. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +YOUNG AMERICA IN 1814. + + +Young students of the neighboring academy--mere boys of from thirteen to +eighteen years of age, but brave, spirited, vigorous lads, well mounted, +well armed, and led on by the redoubtable college hero, Cloudesley +Mornington. They rushed forward, they surrounded, they fell upon the +marauders with an absolute shower of blows. + +"Give it to them, men! This for Fanny! This for Edith! And this! and +this! and this for both of them!" shouted Cloudesley, as he vigorously +laid about him. "Strike for Hay Hill and vengeance! Let them have it, my +men! And you, little fellows! Small young gentlemen, with the souls of +heroes, and the bodies of elves, who can't strike a very hard blow, aim +where your blows will tell! Aim at their faces. This for Fanny! This for +Edith!" shouted Cloudesley, raining his strokes right and left, but +never at random. + +He fought his way through to the miscreant Thorg. + +Thorg was still on foot, armed with a sword, and laying about him +savagely among the crowd of foes that had surrounded him. + +Cloudesley was still on horseback--he had caught up an ax that lay +carelessly upon the lawn, and now he rushed upon Thorg from behind. + +He had no scruple in taking this advantage of the enemy--no scruple +with an unscrupulous monster--an outlawed wretch--a wild beast to be +destroyed, when and where and how it was possible! + +And so Cloudesley came on behind, and elevating this formidable weapon +in both hands, raising himself in his stirrups and throwing his whole +weight with the stroke, he dealt a blow upon the head of Thorg that +brought him to the earth stunned. From the impetus Cloudesley himself +had received, he had nearly lost his saddle, but had recovered. + +"They fly! They fly! By the bones of Caesar, the miscreants fly! After +them, my men! After them! Pursue! pursue!" shouted Cloudesley, wheeling +his horse around to follow. + +But just then, the young British officer standing near Edith, resting +on his sword, breathing, as it were, after a severe conflict, caught +Cloudesley's eyes. Intoxicated with victory, Cloudesley sprang from his +horse, and raising his ax, rushed up the stairs upon the youth! + +Edith sprang and threw herself before the stripling, impulsively +clasping her arms around him to shield him, and then throwing up one arm +to ward off a blow, looked up and exclaimed: + +"He is my preserver--my preserver, Cloudesley!" + +And what did the young ensign do? Clasped Edith quietly but closely to +his breast. + +It was a beautiful, beautiful picture! + +Nay, any one might understand how it was--that not years upon years of +ordinary acquaintance could have so drawn, so knitted these young hearts +together as those few hours of supreme danger. + +"My preserver, Cloudesley! My preserver!" + +Cloudesley grounded his ax. + +"I don't understand that, Edith! He is a British officer." + +"He is my deliverer! When Thorg set his men on me to hunt me, he cast +himself before me, and kept them at bay until you came!" + +"Mutinied!" exclaimed Cloudesley, in astonishment, and a sort of horror. + +"Yes, I suppose it was mutiny," said the young ensign, speaking for the +first time and blushing as he withdrew his arm from Edith's waist. + +"Whe-ew! here's a go!" Cloudesley was about to exclaim, but remembering +himself he amended his phraseology, and said, "A very embarrassing +situation, yours, sir." + +"I cannot regret it!" + +"Certainly not! There are laws of God and humanity above all military +law, and such you obeyed, sir! I thank you on the part of my young +countrywoman," said Cloudesley, who imagined that he could talk about as +well as he could fight. + +"If the occasion could recur, I would do it again! Yes, a thousand +times!" the young man's eyes added to Edith--only to her. + +"But oh! perdition! while I am talking here that serpent! that +copperhead! that cobra capella! is coming round again! How astonishingly +tenacious of life all foul, venomous creatures are!" exclaimed +Cloudesley, as he happened to espy Throg moving slightly where he lay, +and rushed out to dispatch him. + +The other two young people were left alone in the hall. + +"I am afraid you have placed yourself in a very, very dangerous +situation, by what you did to save me." + +"But do you know--oh, do you know how happy it has made me? Can you +divine how my heart--yes, my soul--burns with the joy it has given me? +When I saw you standing there before your enemies so beautiful! so calm! +so constant--I felt that I could die for you--that I would die for you. +And when I sprang between you and your pursuers, I had resolved to die +for you. But first to set your soul free. Edith, you should not have +fallen into the hands of the soldiers! Yes! I had determined to die for +and with you! You are safe. And whatever befalls me, Edith, will you +remember that?" + +"You are faint! You are wounded! Indeed you are wounded! Oh, where! Oh! +did any of our people strike you?" + +"No--it was one of our men, Edith! I do not know your other name, sweet +lady!" + +"Never mind my name--it is Edith--that will do; but your wound--your +wound--oh! you are very pale--here! lie down upon this settee. Oh, it is +too hard!--come into my room, it opens here upon the hall--there is a +comfortable lounge there--come in and lie down--let me get you +something?" + +"Thanks--thanks, dearest lady, but I must get upon my horse and go!" + +"Go?" + +"Yes, Edith--don't you understand, that after what I have done--after +what I have had the joy of doing--the only honorable course left open +to me, is to go and give myself up to answer the charges that may be +brought against me?" + +"Oh, heaven! I know! I know what you have incurred by defending me! I +know the awful penalty laid upon a military officer who lifts his hand +against his superior. Don't go! oh, don't go!" + +"And do you really take so much interest in my fate, sweetest lady?" +said the youth, gazing at her with the deepest and most delightful +emotions. + +"'Take an interest' in my generous protector! How should I help it? Oh! +don't go! Don't think of going. You will not--will you? Say that you +will not!" + +"You will not advise me to anything dishonorable, I am sure." + +"No--no--but oh! at such a fearful cost you have saved me. Oh! when I +think of it, I wish you had not interfered to defend me. I wish it had +not been done!" + +"And I would not for the whole world that it had not been done! Do not +fear for me, sweetest Edith! I run little risk in voluntarily placing +myself in the hands of a court-martial--for British officers are +gentlemen, Edith!--you must not judge them by those you have seen--and +when they hear all the circumstances, I have little doubt that my act +will be justified--besides, my fate will rest with Ross, General +Ross--one of the most gallant and noble spirits ever created, Edith! +And now you must let me go, fairest lady." And he raised her hand +respectfully to his lips, bowed reverently, and left the hall to find +his horse. + +Just then Cloudesley was seen approaching, crying out that they had +escaped. + +"You are not going to leave us, sir?" he asked Cloudesley, catching +sight of the ensign. + +"I am under the necessity of doing so." + +"But you are not able to travel--you can scarcely sit your horse. Pray +do not think of leaving us." + +"You are a soldier--at least an amateur one, and you will understand +that after what has occurred, I must not seem to hide myself like a +fugitive from justice! In short, I must go and answer for that which I +have done." + +"I understand, but really, sir, you look very ill--you--" + +But here the young officer held out his hand smilingly, took leave of +Cloudesley, and bowing low to Edith, rode off. + +Cloudesley and Edith followed the gallant fellow with their eyes. He had +nearly reached the gate, the old green gate at the farthest end of the +semi-circular avenue, when the horse stopped, the rider reeled and fell +from his saddle. Cloudesley and Edith ran toward him--reached him. +Cloudesley disentangled his foot from the stirrup, and raised him in his +arms. Edith stood pale and breathless by. + +"He has fainted! I knew he was suffering extreme pain. Edith! fly and +get some water! Or rather here! sit down and hold up his head while I +go." + +Edith was quickly down by the side of her preserver, supporting his +head upon her breast. Cloudesley sped toward the house for water and +assistance. When he procured what he wanted and returned, he met the +troop of collegians on their return from the chase of the retreating +marauders. They reported that they had scattered the fugitives in every +direction and lost them in the labyrinths of the forest. + +Several of them dismounted and gathered around the young ensign. + +But Cloudesley was now upon the spot, and while he bathed the face of +the fainting man, explained to them how it was, and requested some one +to ride immediately to the village and procure a physician. Thurston +Willcoxen, the next in command under him, and his chosen +brother-in-arms, mounted his horse and galloped off. + +In the meantime the wounded man was carried to the mansion house and +laid upon a cot in one of the parlors. + +Presently Edith heard wheels roll up to the door and stop. She looked +up. It was the carriage of the surgeon, whom she saw alight and walk up +the steps. She went to meet him, composedly as she could, and conducted +him to the door of the sick-room, which he entered. Edith remained in +the hall, softly walking up and down, and sometimes pausing to listen. + +After a little, the door opened. It was only Solomon Weismann, who asked +for warm water, lint, and a quantity of old linen. These Edith quickly +supplied, and then remained alone in the hall, walking up and down, and +pausing to listen as before; once she heard a deep shuddering groan, as +of one in mortal extremity, and her own heart and frame thrilled to the +sound, and then all was still as before. + +An hour, two hours, passed, and then the door opened again, and Edith +caught a glimpse of the surgeon, with his shirt sleeves pushed above his +elbows, and a pair of bloody hands. It was Solomon who opened the door +to ask for a basin of water, towels and soap, for the doctor to wash. +Edith furnished these also. + +Half an hour passed, and the door opened a third time, and the doctor +himself came out, fresh and smiling. His countenance and his manner were +in every respect encouraging. + +"Come into the drawing-room a moment, if you please, Miss Edith, I want +to speak with you." + +Edith desired nothing more earnestly just at that moment. + +"Well, doctor--your patient?" she inquired, anxiously. + +"Will do very well! Will do very well! That is, if he be properly +attended to, and that is what I wished to speak to you about, Miss +Edith. I have seen you near sick-beds before this, my dear, and know +that I can better trust you than any one to whom I could at present +apply. I intend to install you as his nurse, my dear. When a life +depends upon your care, you will waive any scruples you might otherwise +feel, Miss Edith, I am sure! You will have your old maid, Jenny, to +assist you, and Solomon at hand, in case of an emergency. But I intend +to delegate my authority, and leave my directions with you." + +"Yes, doctor, I will do my very best for your patient." + +"I am sure of that. I am sure of that." + +Edith watched by his cot through all the night, fanning him softly, +keeping his chest covered from the air, giving him his medicine at the +proper intervals, and putting drink to his lips when he needed it. But +never trusted her eyelids to close for a moment. Jenny shared her vigil +by nodding in an easy chair; and Solomon Weismann, a young medical +student, by sleeping soundly on the wooden settee in the hall. So passed +the night. After midnight, to Edith's great relief, his fever began to +abate, and he sank into a sweet sleep. In the morning Solomon roused +himself, and came in and relieved Edith's watch, and attended to the +wants of the patient, while she went to her room to bathe her face and +weary eyes. + +But instead of growing better the patient grew worse, and for days life +was despaired of. The most skillful medical treatment, and the most +careful nursing scarcely saved his life. And even after the imminent +danger was over, it was weeks before he was able to be lifted from the +bed to the sofa. + +In the meantime, Throg, who was also treated by the doctor, recovered. +He took quite an affectionate leave of the young ensign, and with an +appearance of great friendliness and honesty, promised to interest +himself at headquarters in behalf of the young officer. This somehow +filled Edith with a vague distrust, and dark foreboding, for which she +could neither account, nor excuse herself, nor yet shake off. Thorg had +been exchanged, and he joined his regiment after its return from +Washington City, and before it sailed from the shores of America. + +Weeks passed, during which the invalid occupied the sofa in his +room--and Edith was his sole nurse. And then Commodore Waugh, with his +wife, servants and caravan returned to Luckenough. + +The old soldier had been "posted up," he said, relative to all that had +transpired in his absence. + +There were no words, he declared, to express his admiration of Edith's +"heroism." + +It was in vain that Edith assured him that she had not been heroic at +all--that the preservation of Luckenough had been due rather to the +timely succor of the college boys than to her own imprudent resolution. +It did no good--the old man was determined to look upon his niece as a +heroine worthy to stand by the side of Joan of Arc. + +"For," said he, "was it not the soul of a heroine that enabled her to +stay and guard the house; and would the college company ever have come +to the rescue of these old walls if they had not heard that she had +resolutely remained to guard them and was almost alone in the house? +Don't tell me! Edith is the star maiden of old St. Mary's, and I'm proud +of her! She is worthy to be my niece and heiress! A true descendant of +Marie Zelenski, is she! And I'll tell you what I'll do, Edith!" he said, +turning to her, "I'll reward you, my dear! I will. I'll marry you to +Professor Grimshaw! That's what I'll do, my dear! And you both shall +have Luckenough; that you shall!" + +Months passed--the war was over--peace was proclaimed, and still the +young ensign, an invalid, unable to travel, lingered at Luckenough. +Regularly he received his pay; twice he received an extension of leave +of absence; and all through the instrumentality of--Thorg. Yet all this +filled Edith with the greatest uneasiness and foreboding--ungrateful, +incomprehensible, yet impossible to be delivered from. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +EDITH'S TROUBLES. + + +Late in the spring Ensign Michael Shields received orders to join his +regiment in Canada, and upon their reception he had an explanation with +Edith, and with her permission, had requested her hand of her uncle, +Commodore Waugh. This threw the veteran into a towering passion, and +nearly drove him from his proprieties as host. The young ensign was +unacceptable to him upon every account. First and foremost, he wasn't +"Grim," Then he was an Israelite. And, lastly! horror of horrors! he was +a British officer, and dared to aspire to the hand of Edith. It was in +vain that his wife, the good Henrietta, tried to mollify him; the storm +raged for several days--raged, till it had expended all its strength, +and subsided from exhaustion. Then he called Edith and tried to talk the +matter over calmly with her. + +"Now all I have to say to you, Edith, is this," he concluded, "that if +you will have the good sense to marry Mr. Grimshaw, these intentions +shall be more than fulfilled--they shall be anticipated. Upon your +marriage with Grimshaw, I will give you a conveyance of Luckenough--only +reserving to myself and Old Hen a house, and a life-support in the +place; but if you will persist in your foolish preference for that +young scamp, I will give you--nothing. That is all, Edith." + +During the speech Edith remained standing, with her eyes fixed upon the +floor. Now, she spoke in a tremulous voice: + +"That is all--is it not, uncle? You will not deprive me of any portion +of your love; will you, uncle?" + +"I do not know, Edith! I cannot tell; when you have deliberately chosen +one of your own fancy, in preference to one of mine--the man I care most +for in the world, and whom I chose especially for you; why, you've +speared me right through a very tender part; however, as I said before, +what you do, do quickly! I cannot bear to be kept upon the tenter +hooks!" + +"I will talk with Michael, uncle," said Edith, meekly. + +She went out, and found him pacing the lawn at the back of the house. + +He turned toward her with a glad smile, took her hand as she approached +him, and pressed it to his lips. + +"Dearest Edith, where have you been so long?" + +"With my uncle, Michael. I have my uncle's 'ultimatum,' as he calls it." + +"What is it, Edith?" + +"Ah! how shall I tell you without offense? But, dearest Michael you will +not mind--you will forgive an old man's childish prejudices, especially +when you know they are not personal--but circumstantial, national, +bigoted." + +"Well, Edith! well?" + +"Michael, he says--he says that I may give you my hand--" + +"Said he so! Bless that fair hand, and bless him who bestows it!" he +exclaimed, clasping her fingers and pressing them to his lips. + +"Yes, Michael, but--" + +"But what! there is no but; he permits you to give me your hand; there +is then no but--'a jailer to bring forth some monstrous malefactor.'" + +"Yet listen! You know I was to have been his heiress!" + +"No, indeed I did not know it! never heard it! never suspected it! never +even thought of it! How did I know but that he had sons and daughters, +or nephews away at school!" + +"Well, I was to have been his heiress. Now he disinherits me, unless I +consent to be married to his friend and favorite, Dr. Grimshaw." + +"You put the case gently and delicately, dear Edith, but the hard truth +is this--is it not--that he will disinherit you, if you consent to be +mine? You need not answer me, dearest Edith, if you do not wish to; but +listen--I have nothing but my sword, and beyond my boundless love +nothing to offer you but the wayward fate of a soldier's wife. Your eyes +are full of tears. Speak, Edith Lance! Can you share the soldier's +wandering life? Speak, Edith, or lay your hand in mine. Yet, no! no! no! +I am selfish and unjust. Take time, love, to think of all you abandon, +all that you may encounter in joining your fate to mine. God knows what +it has cost me to say it--but--take time, Edith," and he pressed and +dropped her hand. + +"I do not need to do so. My answer to-day, to-morrow, and forever, must +be the same," she answered, in a very low voice; and her eyes sought the +ground, and the blush deepened on her cheek, as she laid her hand in +his. How he pressed that white hand, to his lips, to his heart! How he +clasped her to his breast! How he vowed to love and cherish her as the +dearest treasure of his life need not here be told. + +Edith said: + +"Now take me in to uncle, and tell him, for he asked me not to keep him +in suspense." + +Michael led her into the hall, where the commodore strode up +and down, making the old rafters tremble and quake with every +tread--puffing--blowing over his fallen hopes, like a nor'-wester +over the dead leaves. + +Michael advanced, holding the hand of his affianced, and modestly +announced their engagement. + +"Humph! So the precious business is concluded, is it?" + +"Yes, sir," said Michael, with a bow. + +"Well, I hope you may be as happy as you deserve! When is the proceeding +to come off?" + +"What, sir?" + +"The marriage, young gentleman?" + +"When shall I say, dearest Edith?" asked Michael, stooping to her ear. + +"When uncle pleases," murmured the girl. + +"Uncle pleases nothing, and will have nothing to do with it, except to +advise as early a day as possible," he blurted out; "what says the +bride?" + +"Answer, dearest Edith," entreated Michael Shields. + +"Then let it be at New Year," said Edith, falteringly. + +"Whew!--six months ahead! Entirely too far off!" exclaimed the +commodore. + +"And so it really is, beloved," whispered Michael. + +"Let it be next week," abruptly broke in the commodore. "What's the use +of putting it off? Tuesdays and Thursdays are the marrying days, I +believe; let it then be Tuesday or Thursday." + +"Tuesday," pleaded Michael. + +"Thursday," murmured Edith. + +"The deuce!--if you can't decide, I must decide for you," growled Old +Nick, storming down toward the extremity of the hall, and roaring--"Old +Hen! Old Hen! These fools are to be spliced on Sunday! Now bring me my +pipe;" and the commodore withdrew to his sanctum. + +Good Henrietta came in, took the hand of the young ensign, and pressed +it warmly, saying that he would have a good wife, and wishing them both +much happiness in their union. She drew Edith to her bosom, and kissed +her fondly, but in silence. + +As this was Friday evening, little preparations could be made for the +solemnity to take place on Sunday. Yet Mrs. Henrietta exerted herself to +do all possible honor to the occasion. That very evening she sent out a +few invitations to the dinner and ball, that in those days invariably +celebrated a country wedding. She even invited a few particular friends +to meet the bridal pair at dinner, on their return from church. + +The little interval between this and Sunday morning was passed by Edith +and Shields in making arrangements for their future course. + +Sunday came. + +A young lady of the neighborhood officiated as bridesmaid, and +Cloudesley Mornington as groomsman. The ceremony was to be performed at +the Episcopal Church at Charlotte Hall. The bridal party set forward in +two carriages. They were attended by the commodore and Mrs. Waugh. They +reached the church at an early hour, and the marriage was solemnized +before the morning service. When the entries had been made, and the +usual congratulations passed, the party returned to the carriages. +Before entering his own, Commodore Waugh approached that in which the +bride and bridegroom were already seated, and into which the groomsman +was about to hand the bridesmaid. + +"Stay, you two, you need not enter just yet," said the old man, "I want +to speak with Mr. Shields and his wife, Edith!" + +Edith put her head forward, eagerly. + +"I have nothing against you; but after what has occurred, I don't want +to see you at Luckenough again. Good-by!" Then, turning to Shields, he +said, "I will have your own and your wife's goods forwarded to the +hotel, here," and nodding gruffly, he strode away. + +Cloudesley stormed, Edith begged that the carriage might be delayed yet +a little while. Vain Edith's hope, and vain Mrs. Waugh's expostulations, +Old Nick was not to be mollified. He said that "those who pleased to +remain with the new-married couple, might do so--he should go home! They +did as they liked, and he should do as he liked." Mrs. Waugh, +Cloudesley, and the bridesmaid determined to stay. + +The commodore entered his carriage, and was driven toward home. + +The party then adjourned to the hotel. Mrs. Waugh comforting Edith, +and declaring her intention to stay with her as long as she should +remain in the neighborhood--for Henrietta always did as she pleased, +notwithstanding the opposition of her stormy husband. The young +bridesmaid and Cloudesley also expressed their determination to stand +by their friends to the last. + +Their patience was not put to a very long test. In a few days a packet +was to sail from Benedict to Baltimore, and the young couple took +advantage of the opportunity, and departed, with the good wishes of +their few devoted friends. + +Their destination was Toronto, in Canada, where the young ensign's +regiment was quartered. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +SANS SOUCI. + + +Several miles from the manor of Luckenough, upon a hill not far from the +seacoast, stood the cottage of the Old Fields. + +The property was an appendage to the Manor of Luckenoug--, and was at +this time occupied by a poor relation of Commodore Waugh, his niece, +Mary L'Oiseau, the widow of a Frenchman. Mrs. L'Oiseau had but one +child, a little girl, Jacquelina, now about eight or nine years of age. + +Commodore Waugh had given them the cottage to live in, permission to +make a living, if they could, out of the poor land attached to it. This +was all the help he had afforded his poor niece, and all, as she said, +that she could reasonably expect from one who had so many dependents. +For several years past the little property had afforded her a bare +subsistence. + +And now this year the long drought had parched up her garden and +corn-field, and her cows had failed in their yield of milk for the want +of grass. + +It was upon a dry and burning day, near the last of August, that Mary +L'Oiseau and her daughter sat down to their frugal breakfast. And such a +frugal breakfast! The cheapest tea, with brown sugar, and a corn cake +baked upon the griddle, and a little butter--that was all! It was spread +upon a plain pine table without a tablecloth. + +The furniture of the room was in keeping--a sanded floor, a chest of +drawers, with a small looking-glass, ornamented by a sprig of asparagus, +a dresser of rough pine shelves on the right of the fireplace, and a +cupboard on the left, a half-dozen chip-bottomed chairs, a +spinning-wheel, and a reel and jack, completed the appointments. + +Mrs. L'Oiseau was devouring the contents of a letter, which ran thus: + +"MARY, MY DEAR! I feel as if I had somewhat neglected you, but, the truth +is, my arm is not long enough to stretch from Luckenough to Old Fields. +That being the case, and myself and Old Hen being rather lonesome since +Edith's ungrateful desertion, we beg you to take little Jacko, and come +live with us as long as we may live--and of what may come after that we +will talk at some time. If you will be ready I will send the carriage for +you on Saturday. + +"YOUR UNCLE NICK." + +Mrs. L'Oiseau read this letter with a changing cheek--when she finished +it she folded and laid it aside in silence. + +Then she called to her side her child--her Jacquelina--her Sans +Souci--as for her gay, thoughtless temper she was called. I should here +describe the mother and daughter to you. The mother needs little +description--a pale, black-haired, black-eyed woman, who should have +been blooming and sprightly, but that care had damped her spirits, and +cankered the roses in her cheeks. + +But Jacquelina--Sans Souci--merits a better portrait. She was small +and slight for her years, and, though really near nine, would have +been taken for six or seven. She was fair-skinned, blue-eyed and +golden-haired. And her countenance, full of spirit, courage and +audacity. As she would dart her face upward toward the sun, her round, +smooth, highly polished white forehead would seem to laugh in light +between its clustering curls of burnished gold, that, together with the +little, slightly turned-up nose, and short, slightly protruded upper +lip, gave the charm of inexpressible archness to the most mischievous +countenance alive. In fact her whole form, features, expression and +gestures seemed instinct with mischief--mischief lurked in the kinked +tendrils of her bright hair; mischief looked out and laughed in the +merry, malicious blue eyes; mischief crept slyly over the bows of her +curbed and ruby lips, and mischief played at hide and seek among the +rosy dimples of her blooming cheeks. + +"Now, Jacquelina," said Mrs. L'Oiseau, "you must cure yourself of these +hoydenish tricks of yours before you expose them to your uncle--remember +how whimsical and eccentric he is." + +"So am I! Just as whimsical! I'll do him dirt," said the young lady. + +"Good heaven! Where did you ever pick up such a phrase, and what upon +earth does doing any one 'dirt' mean?" asked the very much shocked lady. + +"I mean I'll grind his nose on the ground, I'll hurry him and worry him, +and upset him, and cross him, and make him run his head against the +wall, and butt his blundering brains out. What did he turn Fair Edith +away for? Oh! I'll pay him off! I'll settle with him! Fair Edith shan't +be in his debt for her injuries very long." + +From her pearly brow and pearly cheeks, "Fair Edith" was the name by +which the child had heard her cousin once called, and she had called her +thus ever since. + +Mrs. L'Oiseau answered gravely. + +"Your uncle gave Edith a fair choice between his own love and +protection, and the great benefits he had in store for her, and the +love of a stranger and foreigner, whom he disapproved and hated. Edith +deliberately chose the latter. And your uncle had a perfect right to act +upon her unwise decision." + +"And for my part, I know he hadn't--all of my own thoughts. Oh! I'll do +him--" + +"Hush! Jacquelina. You shall not use such expressions. So much comes of +my letting you have your own way, running down to the beach and watching +the boats, and hearing the vulgar talk of the fishermen." + +On Saturday, at the hour specified, the carriage came to Old Field +Cottage, and conveyed Mrs. L'Oiseau and her child to Luckenough. They +were very kindly received by the commodore, and affectionately embraced +by Henrietta, who conducted them to a pleasant room, where they could +lay off their bonnets, and which they were thenceforth to consider as +their own apartment. This was not the one which had been occupied by +Edith. Edith's chamber had been left undisturbed and locked up by Mrs. +Waugh, and was kept ever after sacred to her memory. + +The sojourn of Mrs. L'Oiseau and Jacquelina at Luckenough was an +experiment on the part of the commodore. He did not mean to commit +himself hastily, as in the case of his sudden choice of Edith as his +heiress. He intended to take a good, long time for what he called +"mature deliberation"--often one of the greatest enemies to upright, +generous, and disinterested action--to hope, faith, and charity, that I +know of, by the way. Commodore Waugh also determined to have his own +will in all things, this time at least. He had the vantage ground now, +and was resolved to keep it. He had caught Sans Souci young, before she +could possibly have formed even a childish predilection for one of the +opposite sex, and he was determined to raise and educate a wife for his +beloved Grim. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE BLIGHTED HEART. + + +In February the deepest snow storm fell that had fallen during the whole +winter. The roads were considered quite impassable by carriages, and the +family at Luckenough were blocked up in their old house. Yet one day, in +the midst of this "tremendous state of affairs," as the commodore called +it, a messenger from Benedict arrived at Luckenough, the bearer of a +letter to Mrs. Waugh, which he refused to intrust to any other hands but +that lady's own. He was, therefore, shown into the presence of the +mistress, to whom he presented the note. Mrs. Waugh took it and looked +at it with some curiosity--it was superscribed in a slight feminine +hand--quite new to Henrietta; and she opened it, and turned immediately +to the signature--Marian Mayfield--a strange name to her; she had never +seen or heard it before. She lost no more time in perusing the letter, +but as she read, her cheek flushed and paled--her agitation became +excessive, she was obliged to ring for a glass of water, and as soon as +she had swallowed it she crushed and thrust the letter into her bosom, +ordered her mule to be saddled instantly, and her riding pelisse and +hood to be brought. In two hours and a half Henrietta reached the +village, and alighted at the little hotel. Of the landlord, who came +forth respectfully to meet her, she demanded to be shown immediately to +the presence of the young lady who had recently arrived from abroad. The +host bowed, and inviting the lady to follow him, led the way to the +little private parlor, the door of which he opened to let the visitor +pass in, and then bowing again, he closed it and retired. + +And Mrs. Waugh found herself in a small, half-darkened room, where, +reclining in an easy chair, sat--Edith? Was it Edith? Could it be Edith? +That fair phantom of a girl to whom the black ringlets and black dress +alone seemed to give outline and personality? Yes, it was Edith! But, +oh! so changed! so wan and transparent, with such blue shadows in the +hollows of her eyes and temples and cheeks--with such heavy, heavy +eyelids, seemingly dragged down by the weight of their long, sleeping +lashes--with such anguish in the gaze of the melting, dark eyes! + +"Edith, my love! My dearest Edith!" said Mrs. Waugh, going to her. + +She half arose, and sank speechless into the kind arms opened to receive +her. Mrs. Waugh held her to her bosom a moment in silence, and then +said: + +"Edith, my dear, I got a note from your friend, Miss Mayfield, saying +that you had returned, and wished to see me. But how is this, my child? +You have evidently been very ill--you are still. Where is your husband, +Edith? Edith, where is your husband?" + +A shiver that shook her whole frame--a choking, gasping sob, was all the +answer she could make. + +"Where is he, Edith? Ordered away somewhere, upon some distant service? +That is hard, but never mind! Hope for the best! You will meet him +again, dear? But where is he, then?" + +She lifted up her poor head, and uttering--"Dead! dead!" dropped it +heavily again upon the kind, supporting bosom. + +"You do not mean it! My dear, you do not mean it! You do not know what +you are saying! Dead! when? how?" asked Mrs. Waugh, in great trouble. + +"Shot! shot!" whispered the poor thing, in a tone so hollow, it seemed +reverberating through a vault. And then her stricken head sank heavily +down--and Henrietta perceived that strength and consciousness had +utterly departed. She placed her in the easy chair, and turned around to +look for restoratives, when a door leading into an adjoining bedroom +opened, and a young girl entered, and came quietly and quickly forward +to the side of the sufferer. She greeted Mrs. Waugh politely, and then +gave her undivided attention to Edith, whose care she seemed fully +competent to undertake. + +This young girl was not over fourteen years of age, yet the most +beautiful and blooming creature, Mrs. Waugh thought, that she had ever +beheld. + +Her presence in the room seemed at once to dispel the gloom and shadow. + +She took Edith's hand, and settled her more at ease in the chair--but +refused the cologne and the salammoniac that Mrs. Waugh produced, +saying, cheerfully: + +"She has not fainted, you perceive--she breathes--it is better to leave +her to nature for a while--too much attention worries her--she is very +weak." + +Marian had now settled her comfortably back in the resting chair, and +stood by her side, not near enough to incommode her in the least. + +"I do not understand all this. She says that her husband is dead, poor +child--how came it about? Tell me!" said Mrs. Waugh, in a low voice. + +Marian's clear blue eyes filled with tears, but she dropped their white +lids and long black lashes over them, and would not let them fall; and +her ripe lips quivered, but she firmly compressed them, and remained +silent for a moment. Then she said, in a whisper: + +"I will tell you by and by," and she glanced at Edith, to intimate that +the story must not be rehearsed in her presence, however insensible she +might appear to be. + +"You are the young lady who wrote to me?" + +"Yes, madam." + +"You are a friend of my poor girl's?" + +"Something more than that, madam--I will tell you by and by," said +Marian, and her kind, dear eyes were again turned upon Edith, and +observing the latter slightly move, she said, in her pleasant voice: + +"Edith, dear, shall I put you to bed--are you able to walk?" + +"Yes, yes," murmured the sufferer, turning her head uneasily from side +to side. + +Marian gave her hand, and assisted the poor girl to rise, and tenderly +supported her as she walked to the bedroom. + +Mrs. Waugh arose to give her assistance, but Marian shook her head at +her, with a kindly look, that seemed to say, "Do not startle her--she is +used only to me lately," and bore her out of sight into the bedroom. + +Presently she reappeared in the little parlor, opened the blinds, drew +back the curtains, and let the sunlight into the dark room. Then she +ordered more wood to the fire, and when it was replenished, and the +servant had left the room, she invited Mrs. Waugh to draw her chair to +the hearth, and then said: + +"I am ready now, madam, to tell you anything you wish to know--indeed I +had supposed that you were acquainted with everything relating to +Edith's marriage, and its fatal results." + +"I know absolutely nothing but what I have learned to-day. We never +received a single letter, or message, or news of any kind, or in any +shape, from Edith or her husband, from the day they left until now." + +"Yon did not hear, then, that he was court-martialed, and--sentenced to +death!" + +"No, no--good heaven, no!" + +"He was tried for mutiny or rebellion--I know not which--but it was for +raising arms against his superior officers while here in America--the +occasion was--but you know the occasion better than I do." + +"Yes, yes, it was when he rescued Edith from the violence of Thorg and +his men. But oh! heaven, how horrible! that he should have been +condemned to death for a noble act! It is incredible--impossible--how +could it have happened? He never expected such a fate--none of us did, +or we would never have consented to his return. There seemed no prospect +of such a thing. How could it have been?" + +"There was treachery, and perhaps perjury, too. He had an insidious and +unscrupulous enemy, who assumed the guise of repentance, and candor, and +friendship, the better to lure him into his toils--it was the infamous +Colonel Thorg, who received the command of the regiment, in reward for +his great services in America. And Michael's only powerful friend, who +could and would have saved him--was dead. General Ross, you are aware, +was killed in the battle of Baltimore." + +"God have mercy on poor Edith! How long has it been since, this +happened, my dear girl?" + +"When they reached Toronto, in Canada West, the regiment commanded by +Thorg was about to sail for England. On its arrival at York, in England, +a court-martial was formed, and Michael was brought to trial. There was +a great deal of personal prejudice, distortion of facts, and even +perjury--in short, he was condemned and sentenced one day and led out +and shot the next!" + +There was silence between them then. Henrietta sat in pale and +speechless horror. + +"But how long is it since my poor Edith has been so awfully widowed?" at +length inquired Mrs. Waugh. + +"Nearly four months," replied Marian, in a tremulous voice. "For six +weeks succeeding his death, she was not able to rise from her bed. I +came from school to nurse her. I found her completely prostrated under +the blow. I wonder she had not died. What power of living on some +delicate frames seem to have. As soon as she was able to sit up, I began +to think that it would be better to remove her from the strange country, +the theatre of her dreadful sufferings, and to bring her to her own +native land, among her own friends and relatives, where she might resume +the life and habits of her girlhood, and where, with nothing to remind +her of her loss, she might gradually come to look upon the few wretched +months of her marriage, passed in England, as a dark dream. Therefore I +have brought her back." + +"And you, my dear child," she said, "you were Michael Shields' sister?" + +"No, madam, no kin to him--and yet more than kin--for he loved me, and I +loved him more than any one else in the world, as I now love his poor +young widow. This was the way of it, Mrs. Waugh: Michael's father and my +mother had both been married before, and we were children of the first +marriages; when Michael was fourteen years old, and I was seven, our +parents were united, and we grew up together. About two years ago, +Michael's father died. My mother survived him only five months, and +departed, leaving me in charge of her stepson. We had no friends but +each other. Our parents, since their union, had been isolated beings, +for this reason--his father was a Jew--my mother a Christian--therefore +the friends and relatives on either side were everlastingly offended by +their marriage. Therefore we had no one but each other. The little +property that was left was sold, and the proceeds enabled Michael to +purchase a commission in the regiment about to sail for America, and +also to place me at a good boarding school, where I remained until his +return, and the catastrophe that followed it. + +"Lady, all passed so suddenly, that I knew no word of his return, much +less of his trial or execution, until I received a visit from the +chaplain who had attended his last moments, and who brought me his +farewell letter, and his last informal will, in which the poor fellow +consigned me to the care of his wife, soon to be a widow, and enjoined +me to leave school and seek her at once, and inclosed a check for the +little balance he had in bank. I went immediately, found her insensible +through grief, as I said--and, lady, I told you the rest." + +Henrietta was weeping softly behind the handkerchief she held at her +eyes. At last she repeated: + +"You say he left you in his widow's charge?" + +"Yes, madam." + +"Left his widow in yours, rather, you good and faithful sister." + +"It was the same thing, lady; we were to live together, and to support +each other." + +"But what was your thought, my dear girl, in bringing her here?" + +"I told you, lady, that in her own native land, among her own kinsfolk, +she might be comforted, and might resume her girlhood's thoughts and +habits, and learn to forget the strange, dark passages of her short +married life, passed in a foreign country." + +"But, my dear girl, did you not know, had you never heard that her uncle +disowned her for marrying against his will?" + +"Something of that I certainly heard from Edith, lady, when I first +proposed to her to come home. But she was very weak, and her thoughts +very rambling, poor thing--she could not stick to a point long, and I +overruled and guided her--I could not believe but that her friends would +take her poor widowed heart to their homes again. But if it should be +otherwise, still--" + +"Well?--still?" + +"Why, I cannot regret having brought her to her native soil--for, if we +find no friends in America, we have left none in England--a place +besides full of the most harrowing recollections, from which this place +is happily free. America also offers a wider field for labor than +England does, and if her friends behave badly, why I will work for her, +and--for her child if it should live." + +"Dear Marian, you must not think by what I said just now, that I am not +a friend of Edith. I am, indeed. I love her almost as if she were my own +daughter. I incurred my husband's anger by remaining with her after her +marriage until she sailed. I will not fail her now, be sure. Personally, +I will do my utmost for her. I will also try to influence her uncle in +her favor. And now, my dear, it is getting very late, and there is a +long ride, and a dreadful road before me. The commodore is already +anxious for me, I know, and if I keep him waiting much longer, he will +be in no mood to be persuaded by me. So I must go. To-morrow, my dear, a +better home shall be found for you and Edith. That I promise upon my own +responsibility. And, now, my dear, excellent girl, good-by. I will see +you again in the morning." + +And Mrs. Waugh took leave. + +"No," thundered Commodore Waugh, thrusting his head forward and bringing +his stick down heavily upon the floor. "No, I say! I will not be +bothered with her or her troubles. Don't talk to me! I care nothing +about them! What should her trials be to me? The precious affair has +turned out just as I expected it would! Only what I did not expect was +that we should have her back upon our hands! I wonder at Edith! I +thought she had more pride than to come back to me for comfort after +leaving as she did!" + +This was all the satisfaction Mrs. Waugh got from Old Nick, when she had +related to him the sorrowful story of Edith's widowhood and return, and +had appealed to his generosity in her behalf. But he unbent so far as to +allow Edith and Marian to be installed at Mrs. L'Oiseau's cottage, and +even grudgingly permitted Henrietta to settle a pension upon her. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +WANDERING FANNY. + + +It was a jocund morning in early summer--some five years after the +events related in the last chapter. + +Old Field Cottage was a perfect gem of rural beauty. The Old Fields +themselves no longer deserved the name--the repose of years had restored +them to fertility, and now they were blooming in pristine youth--far as +the eye could reach between the cottage and the forest, and the cottage +and the sea-beach, the fields were covered with a fine growth of sweet +clover, whose verdure was most refreshing to the sight. The young trees +planted by Marian, had grown up, forming a pleasant grove around the +house. The sweet honeysuckle and fragrant white jasmine, and the rich, +aromatic, climbing rose, had run all over the walls and windows of the +house, embowering it in verdure, bloom and perfume. + +While Marian stood enjoying for a few moments the morning hour, she was +startled by the sound of rapid footsteps, and then by the sight of a +young woman in wild attire, issuing from the grove at the right of the +cottage, and flying like a hunted hare toward the house. + +Marian impulsively opened the gate, and the creature fled in, +frantically clapped to the gate, and stood leaning with her back +against it, and panting with haste and terror. + +She was a young and pretty woman--pretty, notwithstanding the wildness +of her staring black eyes and the disorder of her long black hair that +hung in tangled tresses to her waist. Her head and feet were bare, and +her white gown was spotted with green stains of the grass, and torn by +briars, as were also her bleeding feet and arms. Marian felt for her the +deepest compassion; a mere glance had assured her that the poor, +panting, pretty creature was insane. Marian took her hand and gently +pressing it, said: + +"You look very tired and faint--come in and rest yourself and take +breakfast with us." + +The stranger drew away her hand and looked at Marian from head to foot. +But in the midst of her scrutiny, she suddenly sprang, glanced around, +and trembling violently, grasped the gate for support. It was but the +tramping of a colt through the clover that had startled her. + +"Do not be frightened; there is nothing that can hurt you; you are safe +here." + +"And won't he come?" + +"Who, poor girl?" + +"The Destroyer!" + +"No, poor one, no destroyer comes near us here; see how quiet and +peaceable everything is here!" + +The wanderer slowly shook her head with a cunning, bitter smile, that +looked stranger on her fair face than the madness itself had looked, +and: + +"So it was there," she said, "but the Destroyer was at hand, and +the thunder of terror and destruction burst upon our quiet--but I +forgot--the fair spirit said I was not to think of that--such thoughts +would invoke the fiend again," added the poor creature, smoothing her +forehead with both hands, and then flinging them wide, as if to dispel +and cast away some painful concentration there. + +"But now come in and lie down on the sofa, and rest, while I make you a +cup of coffee," said Marian. + +But the same expression of cunning came again into the poor creature's +face, as she said: + +"In the house? No, no--no, no! Fanny has learned something. Fanny knows +better than to go under roofs--they are traps to catch rabbits! 'Twas in +the house the Destroyer found us, and we couldn't get out! No, no! a +fair field and no favor and Fanny will outfly the fleetest of them! But +not in a house, not in a house!" + +"Well, then I will bring an easy chair out here for you to rest in--you +can sit under the shade, and have a little stand by your side, to eat +your breakfast. Come; come nearer to the house," said Marian, taking +poor Fanny's hand, and leading her up the walk. + +They were at the threshold. + +"Are you Marian?" poor Fanny asked, abruptly. + +"Yes, that is my name." + +"Oh, I oughtn't to have come here! I oughtn't to have come here!" + +"Why? What is the matter? Come, be calm! Nothing can hurt you or us +here!" + +"Don't love! Marian, don't love! Be a nun, or drown yourself, but +never love!" said the woman, seizing the young girl's hands, gazing on +her beautiful face, and speaking with intense and painful earnestness. + +"Why? Love is life. You had as well tell me not to live as not to love. +Poor sister! I have not known you an hour, yet your sorrows so touch me, +that my heart goes out toward you, and I want to bring you in to our +home, and take care of you," said Marian, gently. + +"You do?" asked the wanderer, incredulously. + +"Heaven knows I do! I wish to nurse you back to health and calmness." + +"Then I would not for the world bring so much evil to you! Yet it is a +lovelier place to die in, with loving faces around." + +"But it is a better place to live in! I do not let people die where I +am, unless the Lord has especially called them. I wish to make you well! +Come, drive away all these evil fancies and let me take you into the +cottage," said Marian, taking her hand. + +Yielding to the influence of the young girl, poor Fanny suffered herself +to be led a few steps toward the cottage; then, with a piercing shriek, +she suddenly snatched her hand away, crying: + +"I should draw the lightning down upon your head! I am doomed! I must +not enter!" And she turned and fled out of the gate. + +Marian gazed after her in the deepest compassion, the tears filling her +kind blue eyes. + +"Weep not for me, beautiful and loving Marian, but for +yourself--yourself!" + +Marian hesitated. It were vain to follow and try to draw the wanderer +into the house; yet she could not bear the thought of leaving her. In +the meantime the sound of the shriek had brought Edith out. She came, +leading her little daughter Miriam, now five years old, by the hand. + +Edith was scarcely changed in these five years--a life without +excitement or privation or toil--a life of moderation and regularity--of +easy household duties, and quiet family affections, had restored and +preserved her maiden beauty. And now her pretty hair had its own will, +and fell in slight, flossy black ringlets down each side the pearly brow +and cheeks; and nothing could have been more in keeping with the style +of her beauty than the simple, close-fitting black gown, her habitual +dress. + +But lovely as the young mother was, you would scarcely have looked at +her a second time while she held that child by her hand--so marvelous +was the fascination of that little creature's countenance. It was a face +to attract, to charm, to delight, to draw you in, and rivet your whole +attention, until you became absorbed and lost in the study of its +mysterious spell--a witching face, whose nameless charm it were +impossible to tell, I might describe the fine dark Jewish features, the +glorious eyes, the brilliant complexion, and the fall of long, glossy, +black ringlets that veiled the proud little head; but the spell lay not +in them, any more than in the perfect symmetry of her form, or the +harmonious grace of her motion, or the melodious intonations of her +voice. + +Edith, still leading the little girl, advanced to Marian's side, where +the latter stood at the yard gate. + +"I heard a scream, Marian, dear--what was it?" + +Marian pointed to the old elm tree outside the cottage fence, under the +shade of which stood the poor stroller, pressing her side, and panting +for breath. + +"Edith, do you see that young woman? She it was." + +"Good heaven!" exclaimed Edith, turning a shade paler, and beginning, +with trembling fingers, to unfasten the gate. + +"Why, do you know her, Edith?" + +"Yes! yes! My soul, it is Fanny Laurie! I thought she was in some asylum +at the North!" said Edith, passing the gate, and going up to the +wanderer. "Fanny! Fanny! Dearest Fanny!" she said, taking her thin hand, +and looking in her crazed eyes and lastly, putting both arms around her +neck and kissing her. + +"Do you kiss me?" asked the poor creature, in amazement. + +"Yes, dear Fanny! Don't you know me?" + +"Yes, yes, you are--I know you--you are--let's see, now--" + +"Edith Lance, you know--your old playmate!" + +"Ah! yes, I know--you had another name." + +"Edith Shields, since I was married, but I am widowed now, Fanny." + +"Yes, I know--Fanny has heard them talk!" + +She swept her hands across her brow several times, as if to clear her +mental vision, and gazing upon Edith, said: + +"Ah! old playmate! Did the palms lie? The ravaged tome, the +blood-stained hearth, and the burning roof for me--the fated nuptials, +the murdered bridegroom, and the fatherless child for you. Did the palms +lie, Edith? You were ever incredulous! Answer, did the palms lie?" + +"The prediction was partly fulfilled, as it was very likely to be at the +time our neighborhood was overrun by a ruthless foe. It happened so, +poor Fanny! You did not know the future, any more than I did--no one on +earth knows the mysteries of the future, 'not the angels in heaven, nor +the Son, but the Father only.'" + +This seemed to annoy the poor creature--soothsaying, by palmistry, had +been her weakness in her brighter days, and now the strange propensity +clung to her through the dark night of her sorrows, and received +strength from her insanity. + +"Come in, dear Fanny," said Edith, "come in and stay with us." + +"No, no!" she almost shrieked again. "I should bring a curse upon your +house! Oh! I could tell you if you would hear! I could warn you, if you +would be warned! But you will not! you will not!" she continued, +wringing her hands in great trouble. + +"You shall predict my fate and Miriam's," said Marian, smiling, as she +opened the gate, and came out leading the child. "And I know," she +continued, holding out her palm, "that it will be such a fair fate, as +to brighten up your spirits for sympathy with it." + +"No! I will not look at your hand!" cried Fanny, turning away. Then, +suddenly changing her mood, she snatched Marian's palm, and gazed upon +it long and intently; gradually her features became disturbed--dark +shadows seemed to sweep, as a funereal train, across her face--her bosom +heaved--she dropped the maiden's hand. + +"Why, Fanny, you have told me nothing! What do you see in my future?" +asked Marian. + +The maniac looked up, and breaking, as she sometimes did, into +improvisation, chanted, in the most mournful of tones, these words: + +"Darkly, deadly, lowers the shadow, + Quickly, thickly, comes the crowd-- +From death's bosom creeps the adder, + Trailing slime upon the shroud!" + +Marian grew pale, so much, at the moment, was she infected with the +words and manner of this sybil; but then, "Nonsense!" she thought, and, +with a smile, roused herself to shake off the chill that was creeping +upon her. + +"Feel! the air! the air!" said Fanny, lifting her hand. + +"Yes, it is going to rain," said Edith. "Come in, dear Fanny." + +But Fanny did not hear--the fitful, uncertain creature had seized the +hand of the child Miriam, and was gazing alternately upon the lines in +the palm and upon her fervid, eloquent face. + +"What is this? Oh! what is this?" she said, sweeping the black tresses +back from her bending brow, and fastening her eyes upon Miriam's palm. +"What can it mean? A deep cross from the Mount of Venus crosses the line +of life, and forks into the line of death! a great sun in the plain of +Mars--a cloud in the vale of Mercury! and where the lines of life and +death meet, a sanguine spot and a great star! I cannot read it! In a +boy's hand, that would betoken a hero's career, and a glorious death in +a victorious field; but in a girl's! What can it mean when found in a +girl's? Stop!" And she peered into the hand for a few moments in deep +silence, and then her face lighted up, her eyes burned intensely, and +once more she broke forth in improvisation: + +"Thou shalt be bless'd as maiden fair was never bless'd before, +And the heart of thy belov'd shall be most gentle, kind and pure; +But thy red hand shall be lifted at duty's stern behest, +And give to fell destruction the head thou lov'st the best. + +"Feel! the air! the air!" she exclaimed, suddenly dropping the child's +hand, and lifting her own toward the sky. + +"Yes, I told you it was going to rain, but there will not be much, only +a light shower from the cloud just over our heads." + +"It is going to weep! Nature mourns for her darling child! Hark! I hear +the step of him that cometh! Fly, fair one! fly! Stay not here to listen +to the voice of the charmer, charm he never so wisely!" cried the wild +creature, as she dashed off toward the forest. + +Marian and Edith looked after her, in the utmost compassion. + +"Who is the poor, dear creature, Edith, and what has reduced her to this +state?" + +"She was an old playmate of my own, Marian. I never mentioned her to +you--I never could bear to do so. She was one of the victims of the war. +She was the child of Colonel Fairlie and the bride of Henry Laurie, one +of the most accomplished and promising young men in the State. In one +night their house was attacked, and Fanny saw her father and her husband +massacred, and her home burned before her face! She--fell into the hands +of the soldiers! She went mad from that night!" + +"Most horrible!" ejaculated Marian. + +"She was sent to one of the best Northern asylums, and the property she +inherited was placed in the hands of a trustee--old Mr. Hughes, who died +last week, you know; and now that he is dead and she is out, I don't +know what will be done, I don't understand it at all." + +"Has she no friends, no relatives? She must not be allowed to wander in +this way," said the kind girl, with the tears swimming in her eyes. + +"I shall always be her friend, Marian. She has no others that I know of +now; and no relative, except her young cousin, Thurston Willcoxen, who +has been abroad at a German University these five years past, and who, +in event of Fanny's death, would inherit her property. We must get her +here, if possible. I will go in and send Jenny after her. She will +probably overtake her in the forest, and may be able to persuade her to +come back. At least, I shall tell Jenny to keep her in sight, until she +is in some place of safety." + +"Do, dear Edith!" + +"Are you not coming?" said Edith, as she led her little girl toward the +house. + +"In one moment, dear; I wish only to bind up this morning-glory, that +poor Fanny chanced to pull down as she ran through." + +Edith disappeared in the cottage. + +Marian stood with both her rosy arms raised, in the act of binding up +the vine, that with its wealth of splendid azure-hued, vase-shaped +flowers, over-canopied her beautiful head like a triumphal arch. She +stood there, as I said, like a radiant, blooming goddess of life and +health, summer sunshine and blushing flowers. + +The light tramp of horse's feet fell upon her ear. She looked up, and +with surprise lighting her dark-blue eyes, beheld a gentleman mounted on +a fine black Arabian courser, that curveted gracefully and capriciously +before the cottage gate. + +Smilingly the gentleman soothed and subdued the coquettish mood of his +willful steed, and then dismounted and bowing with matchless grace and +much deference, addressed Marian. + +The maiden was thinking that she had never seen a gentleman with a +presence and a manner so graceful, courteous and princely in her life. +He was a tall, finely proportioned, handsome man, with a superb head, an +aquiline profile, and fair hair and fair complexion. The great charm, +however, was in the broad, sunny forehead, in the smile of ineffable +sweetness, in the low and singularly mellifluous voice, and the manner, +gentle and graceful as any woman's. + +"Pardon me, my name is Willcoxen, young lady, and I have the honor of +addressing--" + +"Miss Mayfield," said Marian. + +"Thank you," said the gentleman, with one involuntary gaze of +enthusiastic admiration that called all the roses out in full bloom upon +the maiden's cheeks; then governing himself, he bent his eyes to the +ground, and said, with great deference: "You will pardon the liberty I +have taken in calling here, Miss Mayfield, when I tell you that I am in +search of an unhappy young relative, who, I am informed, passed here not +long since." + +"She left us not ten minutes ago, sir, much against our wishes. My +sister has just sent a servant to the forest in search of her, to bring +her back, if possible. Will you enter, and wait till she returns?" + +With a beaming smile and graceful bend, and in the same sweet tones, he +thanked her, and declined the invitation. Then he remounted his horse, +and bowing deeply, rode off in the direction Fanny had taken. + +This was certainly a day of arrivals at Old Fields. Usually weeks would +pass without any one passing to or from the cottage, except Marian, +whose cheerful, kindly, social disposition, was the sole connecting link +between the cottage and the neighborhood around it. But this day seemed +to be an exception. + +While yet the little party lingered at the breakfast-table, Edith looked +up, and saw the tall, thin figure of a woman in a nankeen riding-shirt, +and a nankeen corded sun-bonnet, in the act of dismounting from her +great, raw-boned white horse, + +"If there isn't Miss Nancy Skamp!" exclaimed Edith, in no very +hospitable tone--"and I wonder how she can leave the post-office." + +"Oh! this is not mail day!" replied Marian, laughing, "notwithstanding +which we shall have news enough." And Marian who, for her part, was +really glad to see the old lady, arose to meet and welcome her. + +Miss Nancy was little changed; the small, tall, thin, narrow-chested, +stooping figure--the same long, fair, freckled, sharp set face--the +same prim cap, and clean, scant, faded gown, or one of the same +sort--made up her personal individuality. Miss Nancy now had charge of +the village post-office; and her early and accurate information +respecting all neighborhood affairs, was obtained, it was whispered, by +an official breach of trust; if so, however, no creature except Miss +Nancy, her black boy, and her white cat, knew it. She was a great news +carrier, it is true, yet she was not especially addicted to scandal. To +her, news was news, whether good or bad, and so she took almost as much +pleasure in exciting the wonder of her listeners by recounting the good +action or good fortune of her neighbors or the reverse. + +And so, after having dropped her riding-skirt, and given that and her +bonnet to Marian to carry up-stairs, and seated herself in the chair +that Edith offered her at the table, she said, sipping her coffee, and +glancing between the white curtains and the green vines of the open +window out upon the bay: + +"You have the sweetest place, and the finest sea view here, my dear Mrs. +Shields; but that is not what I was a-going to say. I was going to tell +you that I hadn't hearn from you so long, that I thought I must take an +early ride this morning, and spend the day with you. And I thought you'd +like to hear about your old partner at the dancing-school, young Mr. +Thurston Willcoxen, a-coming back--la, yes! to be sure! we had almost +all of us forgotten him, leastwise I had. And then, Miss Marian," she +said, as our blooming girl returned to her place at the table, "I just +thought I would bring over that muslin for the collars and caps you were +so good as to say you'd make for me." + +"Yes, I am glad you brought them, Miss Nancy," said Marian, in her +cheerful tone, as she helped herself to another roll. + +"I hope you are not busy now, my dear." + +"Oh, I'm always busy, thank Heaven! but that makes no difference, Miss +Nancy; I shall find time to do your work this week and next." + +"I am sure it is very good of you, Miss Marian, to sew for me for +nothing; when--" + +"Oh, pray, don't speak of it, Miss Nancy." + +"But indeed, my dear, I must say I never saw anybody like you! If +anybody's too old to sew, and too poor to put it out, it is 'Miss +Marian' who will do it for kindness; and if anybody is sick, it is 'Miss +Marian' who is sent for to nurse them; and if any poor negro, or +ignorant white person, has friends off at a distance they want to hear +from, it is 'Miss Marian' who writes all their letters!" + +When they arose from breakfast, and the room was tidied up, and Edith, +and Marian, and their guest, were seated at their work, with all the +cottage windows open to admit the fresh and fragrant air, and the rural +landscape on one side, and the sea view on the other, and while little +Miriam sat at their feet dressing a nun doll, and old Jenny betook +herself to the garden to gather vegetables for the day, Miss Nancy +opened her budget, and gave them all the news of the month. But in that +which concerned Thurston Willcoxen alone was Edith interested, and of +him she learned the following facts: Of the five years which Mr. +Willcoxen had been absent in the eastern hemisphere, three had been +spent at the German University, where he graduated with the highest +honors; eighteen months had been passed in travel through Europe, Asia, +and Africa; and the last year had been spent in the best circles in the +city of Paris. He had been back to his native place about three weeks. +Since the death of Fanny Laurie's old guardian, the judge of the +Orphans' Court had appointed him sole trustee of her property, and +guardian of her person. As soon as he had received this power, he had +gone to the asylum, where the poor creature was confined, and hearing +her pronounced incurable, though harmless, he had set her at liberty, +brought her home to his own house, and had hired a skillful, attentive +nurse to wait upon her. + +"And you never saw such kindness and compassion, Miss Marian, except in +yourself. I do declare to you, that his manner to that poor unfortunate +is as delicate and reverential and devoted as if she were the most +accomplished and enviable lady in the land, and more so, Miss Marian, +more so!" + +"I can well believe it! He looks like that!" said the beautiful girl, +her face flushing and her eyes filling with generous sympathy. But +Marian was rather averse to sentimentality, so dashing the sparkling +drops from her blushing cheeks, she looked up and said: "Miss Nancy, we +are going to have chickens for dinner. How do you like them cooked? It +don't matter a bit to Edith and me." + +"Stewed, then, if you please, Miss Marian! or stop--no--I think baked in +a pie!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE FOREST FAIRY. + + +On the afternoon of the same day spent by Miss Nancy Skamp at Old Field +Cottage, the family at Luckenough were assembled in that broad, central +passage, their favorite resort in warm weather. + +Five years had made very little alteration here, excepting in the case +of Jacquelina, who had grown up to be the most enchanting sprite that +ever bewitched the hearts, or turned the heads of men. She was petite, +slight, agile, graceful; clustering curls of shining gold encircled a +round, white forehead, laughing in light; springs under springs of fun +and frolic sparkled up from the bright, blue eyes, whose flashing light +flew bird-like everywhere, but rested nowhere. She seemed even less +human and irresponsible than when a child--verily a being of the air, +a fairy, without human thoughtfulness, or sympathy, or affections! She +only seemed so--under all that fay-like levity there was a heart. Poor +heart! little food or cultivation had it had in all its life. + +For who had been Jacquelina's educators? + +First, there was the commodore, with his alternations of blustering +wrath and foolish fondness, giving way to his anger, or indulging his +love, without the slightest regard to the effect produced upon his young +ward--too often abusing her for something really admirable in her +nature--and full as frequently praising her for something proportionately +reprehensible in her conduct. + +Next, there was the dark, and solemn, and fanatical Dr. Grimshaw, her +destined bridegroom, who really and truly loved the child to fatuity, +and conscientiously did the very best he could for her mental and moral +welfare, according to his light. Alas! "when the light that is in one is +darkness, how great is that darkness!" Jacquelina rewarded his serious +efforts with laughter, and flattered him with the pet names of Hobgoblin, +Ghoul, Gnome, Ogre, etc. Yet she did not dislike her solemn suitor--she +never had taken the matter so seriously as that! And he on his part bore +the eccentricities of the elf with matchless patience, for he loved her, +as I said, to fatuity--doted on her with a passion that increased with +ripening years, and of late consumed him like a fever. + +And then there was her mother, last named because, whatever she should +have been, she really was the least important of Jacquelina's teachers. +Fear was the key-note of Mrs. L'Oiseau's character--the key-stone in the +arch of her religious faith--she feared everything--the opinion of the +world, the unfaithfulness of friends, changes in the weather, reverses +of fortune, pain, sickness, sorrow, want, labor! + +Now the time had not yet come for this proposed marriage to shock the +merry maiden. She was "ower young to marry yet." + +So thought not the commodore; for a year past, since his niece had +attained the age of fourteen, he had been worrying himself and the +elders of the family to have the marriage solemnized, "before the little +devil shall have time to get some other notion into her erratic head," +he said. All were opposed to him, holding over his head the only rod he +dreaded, the opinion of the world. + +"What would people say if you were to marry your niece of fourteen to a +man of thirty-four?" they urged. + +"But I tell you, young men are beginning to pay attention to her now, +and I can't take her to church that some jackanapes don't come capering +around her, and the minx will get some whim in her head like Edith +did--I know she will! Just see how Edith disappointed me! ungrateful +huzzy! after my bringing her up and educating her, for her to do so! +While, if she had married Grim when I wanted her to do it, by this time +I'd have had my grandchil--! I mean nieces and nephews climbing about my +knees. But by ----! I won't be frustrated this time!" + +And so Jacquelina was kept more secluded than ever. Secluded from +society, but not from nature. The forest became her haunt. And a chance +traveler passing through it, and meeting her fay-like form, might well +suppose he was deceived with the vision of a wood-nymph. + +The effervescent spirits of the elf had to expend themselves in the same +way. As a child she had ever been as remarkable for surprising feats of +agility as for fun, frolic, mischief, and _diablerie_. And every one of +these traits augmented with her growth. Feats of agility became a +passion with her--her airy spirit seemed only to find its full freedom +in rapid motion in daring flights, in difficult achievements, and in +hair-breadth escapes. Everything that she read of in that way, which +could possibly be imitated, was attempted. She had her bows and arrows, +and by original fitness, as well as by constant practice, she became an +excellent markswoman. She had her well-trained horse, and her vaulting +bars, and made nothing of flying over a high fence or a wide ditch. But +her last whim was the most eccentric of all. She had her lance. And, her +favorite pastime was to have a small ring suspended from a crossbeam, +and while riding at full speed, with her light lance balanced in her +hand, to catch this ring and bear it off upon the point of that lance. +In feats of agility alone she excelled, not in those of strength--that +airy, fragile form was well fitted for swiftness and sureness of action, +yet not for muscular force. Her uncle and Grim indulged her in all these +frolics--her uncle in great delight; Grim, under the protest that they +were unworthy of an immortal being with eternity to prepare for. + +In these five past years, Cloudesley had been at sea, and had only +returned home once--namely, at the end of the stated three years. He had +been received with unbounded joy by his child-friend; had brought her +his outgrown suit of uniform; had spent several months at Luckenough, +and renewed his old delightful intimacy with its little heiress +presumptive, and at length had gone to sea again for another three +years' voyage. And it must be confessed that Jacquelina had found the +second parting more grievous than the first. And this time Cloudesley +had fully shared her sorrow. He had been absent a year, when, upon one +night the old mansion, that had withstood the storms of more than two +hundred winters, was burned to the ground! + +The fire broke out in the kitchen. How, no one knew exactly. + +Be the cause as it may, upon the evening of the fire Jacquelina had gone +to her room--she had an apartment to herself now--and feeling for the +first time in her life some little uneasiness about her uncle's "whim" +of wedding her to Grim, she had walked about the floor for some time in +much disquietude of mind and body; then she went to a wardrobe, and took +out Cloudy's treasured first uniform, and held it up before her. How +small it looked now; why, it was scarcely too large for herself! And how +much Cloudy had outgrown it! It had fitted him nicely at sixteen, now he +was twenty-one, and in two years more he would be home again! Smiling to +herself, and tossing her charming head, as at some invisible foe, she +said: + +"Yes, indeed. I should so like to see them marry me to that ogre Grim!" + +She pressed the cloth up to her face, and put it away, and, still +smiling to herself, retired to rest, to dream of her dear playmate. + +She dreamed of being in his ship on the open sea, the scene idealized to +supernatural beauty and sublimity, as all such scenes are in dreams; and +then she thought the ship took fire, and she saw, and heard, and felt +the great panic and horror that ensued. + +She woke in a terrible fright. A part of her dream was true! Her +chamber was filled with smoke, and the house was chaotic with noise +and confusion, and resounded with cries of "Fire! Fire!" everywhere. +What happened next passed with the swiftness of lightning. She jumped +out of bed, seized a woolen shawl, and wrapped it around her head, and +even in that imminent danger not forgetting her most cherished +treasure--Cloudy's suit of uniform--snatched it from the wardrobe and +fled out of the room. Her swift and dipping motion that had gained her +the name of "Lapwing" now served her well. Shooting her bright head +forward and downward, she fled through all the passages and down all the +stairs and out by the great hall, that was all in flames, until she +reached the lawn, where the panic-stricken and nearly idiotic household +were assembled, weeping, moaning and wringing their hands, while they +gazed upon the work of destruction before them in impotent despair! + +Jacquelina looked all around the group, each figure of which glared +redly in the light of the flames. All were present--all but the +commodore! Where could the commodore be? + +Jacquelina ran through the crowd looking for him in all directions. He +was nowhere visible, though the whole area was lighted up, even to the +edge of the forest, every tree and branch and twig and leaf of which was +distinctly revealed in the strong, red glare. + +"Where is uncle? Oh! where is uncle?" she exclaimed, running wildly +about, and finally going up to Mrs. Waugh, who stood looking, the statue +of consternation. + +Jacquelina shook her by the arm. + +"Aunty! aunty! Where is uncle? Are you bewitched? Where is uncle?" + +"Where? Here, somewhere. I saw him run out before me." + +"No, you didn't! You mistook somebody else for him. Oh, my Lord! he is +in the burning house! he is in the house!" + +"Oh, he is in the house! he is in the house!" echoed Henrietta, now +roused from her panic, and wringing her hands in the most acute +distress. "Oh! will nobody save him! will nobody save him!" + +It was too late! Commodore Waugh was in the burning mansion, in his +bedchamber, near the top of the house, fast asleep! + +"Good heaven! will no one attempt to save him?" screamed Henrietta, +running wildly from one to the other. + +They all gazed on each other, and then in consternation upon the burning +building, every window of which was belching flame, while the sound of +some falling rafter, or the explosion of some combustible substance, was +continually heard! To venture into that blazing house, with its sinking +roof and falling rafters, seemed certain death. + +"Oh! my God! my God! will none even try to save him?" cried Henrietta, +wringing her hands in extreme anguish. + +Suddenly: + +"Pray for me, aunty!" exclaimed Jacquelina, and she darted like a bird +toward the house, into the passage, and seemed lost in the smoke and +flame! + +Wrapping her woolen shawl closely about her, and keeping near the floor, +she glided swiftly up the stairs, flight after flight, and through the +suffocating passages, until she reached her uncle's door. It was open, +and his room was clearer of smoke than any other, from the wind blowing +through the open window. + +There he lay in a deep sleep! She sprang to the bedside, seized and +shook the arm of the sleeper. + +"Uncle! uncle! wake, for God's sake, wake! the house is on fire!" + +"Hum-m-m-e!" muttered the old man, giving a great heave and plunge, and +turning over into a heavier sleep than before. + +"Uncle! uncle! You will be burned to death if you don't wake up!" cried +Jacquelina, shaking him violently. + +"Humph! Yes, Jacquelina! um--um--um--Grim! um--um--Luckenough!" +muttered the dreamer, flinging about his great arms. + +"Luckenough is in flames! Uncle! wake! wake!" she cried, shaking him +frantically. + +"Ah! ha! yes! d--d little rascal is at her tricks again!" he said, +laughing in his sleep. + +At that moment there was the sound of a falling rafter in the adjoining +room. Every instant was worth a life, and there he lay in a sodden, +hopeless sleep. + +Suddenly Sans Souci ran to the ewer; it was empty. There was no time to +be lost! every second was invaluable! He must be instantly roused, and +Jacquelina was not fastidious as to the means in doing so! + +Leaping upon the bolster behind his great, stupid head, she reached +over, and, seizing the mass of his gray, grizzly beard, she pulled up +the wrong way with all her might, until, roaring with pain, he started +up in a fury, and, seeing her, exclaimed: + +"Oh! you abominable little vixen! is that you: Do you dare! Are you +frantic, then? Oh, you outrageous little dare-devil! Won't I send you to +a mad-house, and have you put in a strait-jacket, till you know how to +behave yourself! You infernal little wretch, you!" + +A sudden thought struck Sans Souci to move him by his affection for +herself. + +"Uncle, look around you! The house is burning! if you do not rouse +yourself and save your poor little 'wretch,' she must perish in the +flames!" + +This effectually brought him to his senses; he understood everything! he +leaped from his bed, seized a blanket, enveloped her in it, raised her +in his arms, and, forgetting gout, lameness, leg and all, bore her down +the creaking, heated stairs, flight after flight, and through the +burning passages out of the house in safety. + +A shout of joy greeted the commodore as he appeared with Jacquelina in +the yard. + +But heeding nothing but the burden he bore in his arms, the old sailor +strode on until he reached a convenient spot, where he threw the blanket +off her face to give her air. + +She had fainted--the terror and excitement had been too great--the +reaction was too powerful--it had overwhelmed her, and she lay insensible +across his arms, her fair head hanging back, her white garments streaming +in the air, her golden locks floating, her witching eyes closed, and her +blue lips apart and rigid on her glistening teeth--so she lay like dead +Cordelia in the arms of old Lear. + +Henrietta and Mrs. L'Oiseau, followed by all the household, crowded +around them with water, the only restorative at hand. + +At length she recovered and looked up, a little bewildered, but soon +memory and understanding returned and, gazing at her uncle, she suddenly +threw her arms around his neck and burst into tears. + +She was then carried away into one of the best negro quarters and laid +upon a bed, and attended by her mother and her maid Maria. + +The commodore, with his wife, found shelter in another quarter. And the +few remaining members of the household were accommodated in a similar +manner elsewhere. + +It was near noon before they were all ready to set forth from the scene +of disaster, and it was the middle of the afternoon when they found +themselves temporarily settled at the little hotel at Benedict in the +very apartments formerly occupied by Edith and Marian. + +Here Jacquelina suffered a long and severe spell of illness, during +which her bright hair was cut off. + +And here beautiful Marian came, with her gift of tender nursing, and +devoted herself day and night to the service of the young invalid. And +all the leisure time she found while sitting by the sick bed she busily +employed in making up clothing for the almost denuded family. And never +had the dear girl's nimble fingers flown so fast or so willingly. + +Every day the commodore, accompanied by Dr. Grimshaw, rode over to +Luckenough to superintend the labors of the workmen in pulling down and +clearing away the ruins of the old mansion and preparing the site for a +new building. + +Six weeks passed and brought the first of August, before Jacquelina was +able to sit up, and then the physicians recommended change of air and +the waters of Bentley Springs for the re-establishment of her health. + +During her illness, Jacquelina had become passionately attached to +Marian, as all persons did who came under the daily influence of the +beautiful girl. Dr. Grimshaw was to accompany the family to Bentley. +Jacquelina insisted that Marian should be asked to make one of the +party. Accordingly, the commodore and Mrs. Waugh, nothing loth, invited +and pressed the kind maiden to go with them. But Marian declined the +journey, and Commodore Waugh, with his wife, his niece and his Grim set +out in the family carriage for Bentley Springs. Jacquelina rapidly +regained health and rushed again to her mad breaks. After a stormy scene +with the commodore, the latter vowed she should either marry Dr. +Grimshaw or be sent to a nunnery. To the convent of St. Serena she went, +but within a week she was home in disgrace. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +CLIPPING A BIRD'S WINGS. + + +The clouds were fast gathering over poor San Souci's heavens. + +The commodore had quite recovered for the time being, and he began to +urge the marriage of his niece with his favorite. Dr. Grimshaw's +importunities were also becoming very tiresome. They were no longer a +jest. She could no longer divert herself with them. She felt them as a +real persecution, and expressed herself accordingly. To Grim she said: + +"Once I used to laugh at you. But now I do hate you more than anything +in the universe! And I wish--I do wish that you were in heaven! for I do +detest the very sight of you--there!" + +And to the commodore's furious threats she would answer: + +"Uncle, the time has passed by centuries ago for forcing girls into +wedlock, thanks be to Christianity and civilization. You can't force me +to have Grim, and you had as well give up the wicked purpose," or words +to that effect. + +One day when she had said something of the sort, the commodore answered, +cruelly: + +"Very well, miss! I force no one, please to understand! But I afford my +protection and support only upon certain conditions, and withdraw them +when those conditions are not fulfilled! Neither you nor your mother had +any legal claim upon me. I was not in any way bound to feed and clothe +and house you for so many years. I did it with the tacit understanding +that you were to marry to please me, and all your life you have +understood, as well as any of us, that you were to wed Dr. Grimshaw." + +"If such an understanding existed, it was without my consent, and was +originated in my infancy, and I do not feel and I will not be in the +least degree bound by it! For the expense of my support and education, +uncle! I am truly sorry that you risked it upon the hazardous chance of +my liking or disliking the man of your choice! But as I had no hand in +your venture, I do not feel the least responsible for your losses. Yours +is the fate of a gambler in human hearts who has staked and lost--that +is the worst!" + +"And by all the fiends in fire, Minion! you shall find that it is +not the worst. I know how to make you knuckle under, and I shall do +it!" exclaimed the commodore in a rage, as he rose up and strode off +toward the room occupied by Mary L'Oiseau. Without the ceremony of +knocking, he burst the door open with one blow of his foot, and entered +where the poor, feverish, frightened creature was lying down to take a +nap. Throwing himself into a chair by her bedside, he commenced a +furious attack upon the trembling invalid. He recounted, with much +exaggeration, the scene that had just transpired between himself and +Jacquelina--repeated with additions her undutiful words, bitterly +reproached Mary for encouraging and fostering that rebellious and +refractory temper in her daughter, warned her to bring the headstrong +girl to a sense of her position and duty, or to prepare to leave his +roof; for he swore he "wouldn't be hectored over and trodden down by her +nor her daughter any longer!" And so having overwhelmed the timid, +nervous woman with undeserved reproaches and threats, he arose and left +the room. + +And can any one be surprised that her illness was increased, and her +fever arose and her senses wandered all night? When her mother was ill, +Jacquelina could not sleep. Now she sat by her bedside sponging her hot +hands and keeping ice to her head and giving drink to slake her burning +thirst and listening, alas! to her sad and rambling talk about their +being turned adrift in the world to starve to death, or to perish in the +snow--calling on her daughter to save them both by yielding to her +uncle's will! And Jacquelina heard and understood, and wept and +sighed--a new experience to the poor girl, who was + +"Not used to tears at night +Instead of slumber!" + +All through the night she nursed her with unremitting care. And in the +morning, when the fever waned, and the patient was wakeful, though +exhausted, she left her only to bring the refreshing cup of tea and +plate of toast prepared by her own hands. + +But when she brought it to the bedside the pale invalid waved it away. +She felt as if she could not eat. Fear had clutched her throat and would +not relax its hold. + +"I want to talk to you, Jacquelina," she said. + +"Eat and drink first, Mimmy, and then you and I will have such another +good talk!" said Jacquelina, coaxingly. + +"I can't! Oh! I can't swallow a mouthful, I am choking now!" + +"Oh! that is nothing but the hysterics, Mimmy! 'high strikes,' as Jenny +calls them! I feel like I should have them myself sometimes! Come! cheer +up, Mimmy! Your fever is off and your head is cool! Come, take this +consoling cup of tea and bit of toast, and you will feel so much +stronger and cheerfuler." + +"Tea! Oh! everything I eat and drink in this unhappy house is +bitter--the bitter cup and bitter bread of dependence!" + +"Put more sugar into it, then, Mimmy, and sweeten it! Come! Things are +not yet desperate! Cheer up!" + +"What do you mean, my love? Have you consented to be married to Dr. +Grimshaw?" + +"No! St. Mary! Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Jacquelina, shuddering for the +first time. + +"Now, why 'heaven forbid?' Oh! my child, why are you so perverse? Why +won't you take him, since your uncle has set his heart upon the match?" + +"Oh, mother!" + +"I know you are very young to be married--too young! far too young! Only +sixteen, gracious heaven! But then you know we have no alternative but +that, or starvation; and it is not as if you were to be married to a +youth of your own age--this gentleman is of grave years and character, +which makes a great difference." + +"I should think it did." + +"What makes you shiver and shake so, my dear? Are you cold or nervous? +Poor child, you got no sleep last night. Do you drink that cup of tea, +my dear. You need it more than I do." + +"No, no." + +"Why, what is the matter with my fairy?" + +"Oh, mother, mother, don't take sides against me! don't! or you will +drive me to my ruin. Who will take a child's part, if her mother don't? +I love you best of all the world, mother. Do not takes sides against me! +take my part! help me to be true! to be true!" + +"True to whom, Jacquelina? What are you talking about?" + +"True to this heart--to this heart, mother! to all that is honest and +good in my nature." + +"I don't understand you at all." + +"Oh, mother, the thought of marrying anybody is unwelcome to me now; and +the idea of being married to Grim is abhorrent; is like that of being +sold to a master that I hate, or sent to prison for life; it is full of +terror and despair. Oh! oh!--" + +"Don't talk so wildly, Jacquelina, you make me ill." + +"Do I, Mimmy? Oh, I didn't mean to worry you. Bear up, Mimmy; do try to +bear up; don't fear; suppose he does turn me out. I am but a little +girl, and food and clothing are cheap enough in the country, and any of +our neighbors will take me in just for the fun I'll make them. La! yes, +that they will, just as gladly as they will let in the sunshine." + +"Oh, child, how little you know of the world. Yes, for a day or two, or +a week or two, scarcely longer. And even if you could find a home, who +would give shelter to your poor, sick mother for the rest of her life?" + +"Mother! uncle would never deny you shelter upon my account!" exclaimed +Jacquelina, growing very pale. + +"Indeed he will, my child; he has; he came in here last night and warned +me to pack up and leave the house." + +"He will not dare--even he, so to outrage humanity and public opinion +and everything he ought to respect." + +"My child, he will. He has set his heart upon making Nace Grimshaw his +successor at Luckenough, that if you disappoint him in this darling +purpose, there will be no limit to his rage and his revenge. And he will +not only send us from his roof, but he will seek to justify himself and +further ruin us by blackening our names. Your wildness and eccentricity +will be turned against us and so distorted and misrepresented as to ruin +us forever." + +"Mother! mother! he is not so wicked as that." + +"He is furious in his temper and violent in his impulses--he will do all +that under the influence of disappointment and passion, however he may +afterwards repent his injustice. You must not disappoint him, +Jacquelina." + +"I disappoint him? Why, Mimmy, Luckenough does not belong to me. And if +he wants Grim to be his successor, why, as I have heard aunty ask him, +does he not make him his heir?" + +"There are reasons, I suspect, my dear, why he cannot do so. I think he +holds the property by such a tenure, that he cannot alienate it from the +family. And the only manner in which he can bestow it upon Dr. Grimshaw, +will be through his wife, if the doctor should marry some relative." + +"That is it, hey? Well! I will not be made a sumpter-mule to carry this +rich gift over to Dr. Grimshaw--even if there is no other way of +conveyance. Mother! what is the reason the professor is such a favorite +with uncle?" + +"My dear, I don't know, but I have often had my suspicions." + +"Of what, Mimmy?" + +"Of a very near, though unacknowledged relationship; don't question me +any further upon that particular point, my dear, for I really know +nothing whatever about it. Oh, dear." And the invalid groaned and turned +over. + +"Mother, you are very weak; mother, please to take some tea; let me go +get you some hot." + +"Tell me, Jacquelina; will you do as the old man wishes you?" + +"I will tell you after you take some refreshments," said Jacquelina. + +"Well! go bring me some." + +The girl went and brought more hot tea and toast, and waited until her +mother had drunk the former and partaken of a morsel of the latter. +When, in answer to the eager, inquiring look, she said: + +"Mother, if I alone were concerned, I would leave this house this +moment, though I should never have another roof over my head. But for +your sake, mother, I will still fight the battle. I will try to turn +uncle from his purpose. I will try to awaken Grim's generosity, if he +has any, and get him to withdraw his suit. I will get aunty to use her +influence with both of them, and see what can be done. But as for +marrying Dr. Grimshaw, mother--I know what I am saying--I would rather +die!" + +"And see me die, my child?" + +"Oh, mother! it will not be so bad as that." + +"Jacquelina, it will. Do you know what is the meaning of these afternoon +fevers and night sweats and this cough?" + +"I know it means that you are very much out of health, Mimmy, but I hope +you will be well in the spring." + +"Jacquelina, it means death." + +"Oh, no! No, no! No, no! Not so! There's Miss Nancy Skamp has had a +cough every winter ever since I knew her, and she's not dead nor likely +to die, and you will be well in the spring," said the girl, changing +color; and faltering in spite of herself. + +"I shall never see another spring, my child--" + +"Oh, mother! don't! don't say so. You--" + +"Hear me out, my dear; I shall never live to see another spring unless I +can have a quiet life with peace of mind. These symptoms, my child, mean +death, sooner or later. My life may be protracted for many years, if I +can live in peace and comfort; but if I must suffer privation, want and +anxiety, I cannot survive many months, Jacquelina." + +The poor girl was deadly pale; she started up and walked the floor in a +distracted manner, crying: + +"What shall I do! Oh! what shall I do?" + +"It is very plain what you shall do, my child. You must marry Dr. +Grimshaw. Come, my dear, be reasonable. If I did not think it best for +your happiness and prosperity, I would not urge it." + +"Mimmy, don't talk any longer, dear!" Jacquelina interrupted. "There's a +bright spot on your cheek now, and your fever will rise again, even this +morning. I will see what can be done to bring everybody to reason! I +will not believe but that if I remain firm and faithful to my heart's +integrity there will be some way of escape made between these two +alternatives." + +But could Sans Souci do this? Had the frolicsome fairy sufficient +integral strength and self-balance to resist the powerful influences +gathering around her? + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +A GRIM MARRIAGE. + + +As the decisive day approached, Jacquelina certainly acted like one +distraught--now in wild defiance, now in paleness and tears, and anon in +fitful mirth, or taunting threats. She rapidly lost flesh and color, and +in hysterical laughter accounted for it by saying that she believed in +her soul Grim was a spiritual vampire, who preyed upon her life! She +avoided him as much as she could. And if sometimes, when she was about +to escape from him, he would seize her wrist and detain her, she would +suddenly lose her breath and turn so pale that in the fear of her +fainting, he would release her. So he got no opportunity to press his +claims. + +One morning, however--it was about a week before Christmas--she +voluntarily sought his presence. She entered the parlor where he sat +alone. Excitement had flushed her cheeks with a vivid crimson and +lighted her eyes with sparkling fire--she did not know that her beauty +was enhanced a thousand fold--she did not know that never in her life +had her presence kindled such a flame in the heart of her lover as it +did at that moment. And if he restrained himself from going to meet her, +it was the dread lest she should fade away from him as he had seen her +do so often. But she advanced and stood before him. + +"Dr. Grimshaw!" she said, "I have come to make a last appeal to you! I +have come to beg, to supplicate you, for my sake, for honor, for truth +and for mercy's sake, yes! for heaven's sake, to withdraw your +pretensions to my poor hand. For, sir, I do not and cannot like you! I +do not say but that you are far too good and wise, and every way too +worthy for such a girl as I am--and that you do me the very greatest +honor by your preference, but still no one can account for tastes--and, +sir, I cannot like you--pray, pardon me! indeed, I cannot help it." + +Although her words were so humble, her color was still heightened, and +her eyes had a threatening, defiant sparkle in them, so contradictory, +so piquant and fascinating in contrast with the little, fragile, +graceful, helpless form, that his head was almost turned. It was with +difficulty he could keep from snatching the fluttering, half-defiant, +half-frightened, bird-like creature to his bosom. But he contented +himself with saying: + +"My fairy! we are commanded to love those that hate us; and should you +hate me more than ever, I should only continue to love you!" + +"Love me at a distance, then! and the greater the distance, the more +grateful I shall be!" + +He could no longer quite restrain himself. He seized her hand and drew +her towards him, exclaiming in an eager, breathless, half-whisper: + +"No! closer and closer shall my love draw us, beautiful one! until it +compasses your hate and unites us forever!" + +With a half-suppressed cry she wrung her hand from his grasp and +answered, wildly: + +"I sought your presence to entreat you--and to warn you! I have +supplicated you, and you have turned a deaf ear to my prayer! Now I warn +you! and disregard my warning, if you dare! despise it at your peril! I +am going out of my wits, I think! I warn you that I may consent to +become your wife! I have no persevering resistance in my nature. I +cannot hold out forever against those I love. But I warn you, that if +ever I consent, it will be under the undue influence of others!" + +"Put your consent upon any ground you please, you delightful, you +enchanting little creature. We will spare your blushes, charming as they +are!" he exclaimed, surprised out of self-control and seizing both her +hands. + +Angrily she snatched them from him. + +"What have I said? Oh! what have I said? I believe I am going crazy! I +tell you, Dr. Grimshaw, that if I ever yield, it will be only to the +overwhelming force brought to bear upon me; and even then it will be +only during a temporary fit of insanity! And I warn you--I warn you not +to dare to take me at my word!" + +"Will I not? You bewitching little sprite! do you do this to make me +love you ten thousand times more than I do?" + +Passionately she broke forth in reply: + +"You do not believe me! You do not see that I am in terrible earnest! I +tell you, Dr. Grimshaw, that were I induced to consent to be your wife, +you had better not take advantage of such a consent! It would be the +most fatal day's work you ever did for yourself in this world! You think +I'm only a spoiled, petulant child! You do not know me! I do not know +myself! I am full of evil! I feel it sensibly, when I am near you! You +develop the worst of me! Should you marry me, the very demon would rise +in my bosom! I should drive you to distraction!" + +"You drive me to distraction now, you intoxicating little witch!" he +exclaimed, laughing and darting towards her. + +She started and escaped his hand, crying: + +"Saints in heaven! What infatuation! What madness! It must be fate! +Avert the fate, man! Avert it! while there is yet time! Go get a +mill-stone and tie it around your neck and cast yourself into the +uttermost depths of the sea before ever you dare to marry me!" Her +cheeks were blazing with color and her eyes with light! He saw only her +transcendant beauty. + +"Why, you little tragi-comic enchantress, you!--what do you mean? Come +to my arms! Come, wild, bright bird! come to my bosom!" he said, +stepping towards her and throwing his arms around her. + +"Vampire!" she exclaimed, struggling to free herself for a moment; and +then as his lips sought hers the color faded from her face and the light +died in her eyes, and he hastily released her and set her in a chair +lest she should swoon in his hated arms. + +"Now, how am I expected to live with such a wife as this girl would make +me? If it were not for the estate I should be tempted to give her up, +and travel to forget her! How shall I overcome her repugnance? Not by +courting her; that's demonstrated. Only by being kind to her, and +letting her alone." Such was the tenor of his thoughts as he stood a +little behind her chair out of her sight. + +But Jacquelina, when she found herself free, soon recovered, and arose +and left the room. + +Until a day or two before Christmas, when, in the evening, she glided in +to her uncle's room and sunk down by his side--so unlike herself; so +like a spirit--that the old sinner impulsively shrank away from her, and +put out his hand to ring for lights. + +"No; don't send for candles, uncle! Such a wretch as I am should tell +her errand in the dark." + +"What do you mean now, minx?" + +"Uncle, in all your voyages around the world did you ever stop at +Constantinople? And did you ever visit a slave mart there?" + +"Yes; of course I have! What then? What the deuce are you dreaming of?" + +"How much would such a girl as myself bring in the slave market of the +Sultan's city?" + +"Are you crazy?" asked the commodore, opening his eyes to their widest +extent. + +"I don't know. If I am, it can make little difference in your plans. But +as there is method in my madness, please to answer my question. How much +would I sell for in Constantinople?" + +"You are mad; that's certain! How do I know--where beauties sell for +from five hundred to many thousand zechins. But you wouldn't sell for +much; you're too small and too thin." + +"Beauty sells by the weight, does it? Well, uncle, I see that you +have been accustomed to the mart, for you know how to cheapen the +merchandise! Save yourself the trouble, uncle! I shall not live long, +and therefore I shall not have the conscience to ask a high price for +myself!" + +"Mad! Mad as a March hare! As sure as shooting she is!" said the +commodore in dismay, staring at her until his great, fat eyes seemed +bursting from their sockets. + +"Not so mad as you think, uncle, either. I have come to make a bargain +with you." + +"What the foul fiend do you mean now? Do you want me to send you to +Constantinople, pray?" + +Jacquelina laughed, something like her old silvery laugh, as she +answered: + +"No, uncle; though if it were not for Mimmy, I really should prefer it +to marrying Grim!" + +"What do you mean, then? Speak!" + +"This, then, uncle: By what I have heard, and what I have seen, and what +I have surmised, I am already as deep in your secrets respecting Grim as +you are yourself." + +"You speak falsely, you little ----! No one knows anything about it but +myself!" exclaimed the commodore, betraying himself through astonishment +and indignation. + +Without heeding the contradiction, except by a sly smile, Jacquelina +went calmly on: + +"And I know that you wish to make me a stalking-horse, to convey the +estate to Grimshaw, only because you cannot give it to him in any other +way but through his wife." + +"What do you mean, you little diabolical ----! It is my own--why can I +not give it to whom I please, I should like to know?" + +"You can give it to any one in the world, uncle, except Dr. Grimshaw, or +to one who bears the same relationship to you that he does; for to such +a one you may not legally bequeath your landed estate, or--" + +"You shocking, impudent little vixen! How dare you talk so?" + +"Hear me out, uncle. I say, knowing such to be the case, I also know my +own importance as a 'stalking-horse,' or sumpter-mule, or something of +the sort, to bear upon my own shoulders the burden of this estate, which +you wish to give by me to Dr. Grimshaw. Therefore, I shall not give +myself away for nothing. I intend to sell myself for a price! Nothing on +earth would induce me to consent to marry Dr. Grimshaw, were it not to +secure peace and comfort to my mother's latter days. Your threat of +turning me out of doors would not compel me into such a marriage, for +well I know that you would not venture to put that threat into +execution. But I cannot bear to see my poor mother suffer so much as she +does while here, dependent upon your uncertain protection. You terrify +and distress her beyond her powers of endurance. You make the bread of +dependence very, very bitter to her, indeed! And well I know that she +will certainly die if she remains subjected to your powers of +tormenting. I speak plainly to you, uncle, having nothing to conceal; +to proceed, I assure you I will not meet your views in marrying Dr. +Grimshaw, unless it be to purchase for my poor mother a deliverance from +bondage, and an independence for life. Therefore, I demand that you +shall buy this place, 'Locust Hill,' which I hear can be bought for five +thousand dollars, and settle it upon my mother; in return for which I +will bestow my hand in marriage upon Dr. Grimshaw. And, mind, I do not +promise with it either love, or esteem, or service--only my hand in +civil marriage, and the estate it has the power of carrying with it! And +the documents that shall make my mother independent of the world must be +drawn up or examined by a lawyer that she shall appoint, and must be +placed in her hands on the same hour that gives my hand to Dr. Grimshaw. +Do you understand? Now, uncle, that is my ultimatum! For, please the +heavens above us! come what may! do what you will! turn me and my mother +out of doors, to freeze and starve--I will die, and see her die, before +I will sell my hand for a less price than will make her independent and +at ease for life! For, look you, I would rather see her dead, than leave +her in your power! Think of this, uncle! There is time enough to-morrow +and next day to make all the arrangements; only be sure I am in earnest! +Look in my face! Am I not in earnest?" + +"I think you are, you little wretch! I could shake the life out of you!" + +"That would be easy, uncle! There is not much to shake out. Only, in +that case, you would have no stalking-horse to take the estate over to +Dr. Grimshaw." And so saying, Jacquelina arose to leave the room. + +"Come back here--you little vixen, you!" + +Sans Souci returned. + +"It's well to 'strike while the iron's hot,' and to bind you while +you're willing to be bound, for you are an uncertain little villain. +Though I don't believe you'd break a solemn pledge once given--hey?" + +"No, sir!" + +"Pledge me your word of honor, now, that if I buy this little farm of +Locust Hill, and settle it upon your mother, you will marry Dr. Grimshaw +on this coming Christmas Eve?" + +"I pledge you my word of honor that I will" + +"Without mental reservation?" + +"Without mental reservation!" + +"Stop! it is safer to seal such a pledge! Climb up on the stand, and +hand me that Bible down off the top shelf. Brush the cobwebs off it, and +don't let the spiders come with it." + +Jacquelina did as she was bid, with a half indifferent, half disdainful +air. + +"There! Now lay your hand upon this book, and swear by the Holy +Evangelists of Almighty God that you will do as you have pledged +yourself to do." + +"I swear," said Jacquelina. + +"Very well! Now, confound you! you may put the book back again, and go +about your business." + +Sans Souci very willingly complied. And then, as she left the room and +closed the door after her, her quick ear caught the sound of the +commodore's voice, chuckling: + +"So! I've trapped you! Ten minutes more, and it would have been +impossible." + +Full of wonder as to what his words might mean, doubting also whether +she had heard them aright, Jacquelina was hastening on toward her +mother's room, when she met her Aunt Henrietta hurrying toward her, and +speaking impetuously. + +"Oh, my little Lapwing! where have you been? I have been looking for you +all over the house! Good news, dear Lapwing! Good news! Deliverance is +at hand for you! Who do you think has come?" + +"Who? Who?" questioned Sans Souci, eagerly. + +"Cloudy!" + +"Lost! lost!" cried the wretched girl; and, with a wild shriek that rang +through all the house, she threw up her arms and fell forward to the +ground. + +The marriage was appointed to take place Christmas Day. Jacquelina +suffered her mother to dress her in bridal array. Dr. Grimshaw was +waiting for her in the hall. + +As soon as she reached the foot of the stairs, he took her hand; and, +pressing it, whispered: + +"Sweet girl, forgive me this persistence!" + +"May God never forgive me if I do!" she fiercely exclaimed, transfixing +him with a flashing glance. + +Never lover uttered a deeper sigh than that which Dr. Grimshaw gave +forth as he led his unwilling bride to the carriage. The groomsman +followed with the bridesmaid. The commodore and Mary L'Oiseau +accompanied the party in a gig. Henrietta, true to her word, refused to +be present at the marriage. + +When the wedding party arrived at the chapel, all the pews were filled +to suffocation with the crowd that the rumor of the approaching marriage +had drawn together. And the bridal party were the cynosure of many +hundred eyes as they passed up the aisle and stood before the altar. + +The ceremony proceeded. But not one response, either verbally or +mentally, did Jacquelina make. The priest passed over her silence, +naturally ascribing it to bashfulness, and honestly taking her consent +for granted. + +The rites were finished, the benediction bestowed, and friends and +acquaintances left their pews, and crowded around with congratulations. + +Among the foremost was Thurston Willcoxen, whose suave and stately +courtesy, and graceful bearing, and gracious words, so pleased Commodore +Waugh that, knowing Jacquelina to be married and safe, he invited and +urged the accomplished young "Parisian," as he was often called, to +return and partake of the Christmas wedding breakfast. + +"Nace, do you take your bride home in the gig, as you will want her +company to yourself, and we will go in the carriage," said the +commodore, good-naturedly. In fact, the old man had not been in such +a fine humor for many a day. + +Dr. Grimshaw, "nothing loth," led his fair bride to the gig, handed her +in, and took the place beside her. + +"Now, then, fairest and dearest, you are at last, indeed, my own!" he +said, seeking her eyes. + +"Thank Heaven, I am not! I never foreswore myself. I never opened my +lips, or formed a vow in my head. I never promised you anything," said +Jacquelina, turning away; and the rest of the journey was made in +silence. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +DELL-DELIGHT + + +It should have been an enchanting home to which Thurston Willcoxen +returned after his long sojourn in Europe. The place, Dell-Delight, +might once have deserved its euphonious and charming name; now, however, +its delightfulness was as purely traditional as the royal lineage +claimed by its owners. + +Mr. Willcoxen was one of those whose god is Mammon. He had inherited +money, married a half-sister of Commodore Waugh for money, and made +money. Year by year, from youth to age, adding thousands to thousands, +acres to acres; until now, at the age of ninety-five, he was the master +of incalculable riches. + +He had outlived his wife and their three children; and his nearest of +kin were Thurston Willcoxen, the son of his eldest son; Cloudesley +Mornington, the son of his eldest daughter, and poor Fanny Laurie, the +child of his youngest daughter. + +Thurston and Fanny had each inherited a small property independent of +their grandfather. + +But poor Cloudy had been left an orphan in the worst sense of the +word--destitute and dependent on the "cold charity of the world," +or the colder and bitterer alms of unloving rich relatives. + +The oldest and nearest kinsman and natural guardian of the boys--old Mr. +Willcoxen--had, of course, received them into his house to be reared and +educated; but no education would he afford the lads beyond that +dispensed by the village schoolmaster, who could very well teach them +that ten dimes make a dollar, and ten dollars an eagle; and who could +also instruct them how to write their own names--for instance, at the +foot of receipts of so many hundred dollars for so many hogsheads of +tobacco; or to read other men's signatures, to wit, upon the backs of +notes of hand, payable at such a time, or on such a day. This was just +knowledge enough, he said, to teach the boys how to make and save money, +yet not enough to tempt them to spend it foolishly in travel, libraries, +pictures, statues, arbors, fountains, and such costly trumpery and +expensive tomfoolery. + +To Thurston, who was his favorite, probably because he bore the family +name and inherited some independent property, Mr. Willcoxen would, +however, have afforded a more liberal and gentlemanly education, could +he have done so and at the same time decently withheld from going to +some expense in giving his penniless grandson, Cloudy, the same +privilege. As it was, he sought to veil his parsimony by conservative +principle. + +It was a great humiliation to the boys to see that, while all the youths +of their own rank and neighborhood were entered pensioners at the local +college, they two alone were taken from the little day-school to be put +to agricultural labor--a thing unprecedented in that locality at that +time. + +When this matter was brought to the knowledge of Commodore Waugh, as he +strode up and down his hall, the indignant old sailor thumped his heavy +stick upon the ground, thrust forward his great head, and swore +furiously by the whole Pandemonial Hierarchy that his grandnephews +should not be brought up like clodhoppers. + +And straightway he ordered his carriage, threw himself into it, and rode +over to Charlotte Hall, where he entered the name of his two young +relatives as pensioners at his own proper cost. + +This done, he ordered his coachman to take the road to Dell-Delight, +where he had an interview with Mr. Willcoxen. + +And as he met little opposition from the old man, who seemed to think +that it was no more than fair that the boys' uncle should share the +expense of educating them, he sought out the youths, whom he found in +the field, and bade them leave the plough, and go and prepare themselves +to go to C---- and get educated, as befitted the grandnephews of a +gentleman! + +The lads were at that time far too simple-minded and too clannish to +feel their pride piqued at this offer, or to take offense at the rude +manner in which it was made. Commodore Waugh was their grand-uncle, and +therefore had a right to educate them, and to be short with them, too, +if he pleased. That was the way in which they both looked at the matter. +And very much delighted and very grateful they were for the opening for +education thus made for them. + +And very zealously they entered upon their academical studies. They +boarded at the college and roomed together. But their vacations were +spent apart, Thurston spending his at Dell-Delight, and Cloudy his at +Luckenough. + +When the academical course was completed, Commodore Waugh, as has been +seen, was at some pains to give Cloudy a fair start in life, and for the +first time condescended to use his influence with "the Department" to +procure a favor in the shape of a midshipman's warrant for Cloudesley +Mornington. + +In the meantime old Mr. Willcoxen was very gradually sinking into the +imbecility natural to his advanced age; and his fascinating grandson was +gaining some ascendancy over his mind. Year by year this influence +increased, though it must be admitted that Thurston's conquest over his +grandfather's whims was as slow as that of the Hollanders in winning the +land from the sea. + +However, the old man--now that Cloudy was provided for and off his +hands--lent a more willing ear to the petition of Thurston to be +permitted to continue his education by a course of studies at a German +university, and afterward by a tour of the Eastern continent. + +Thurston's absence was prolonged much beyond the original intention, as +has been related; he spent two years at the university, two in travel, +and nearly two in the city of Paris. + +His grandfather would certainly never have consented to this prolonged +absence, had it been at his own cost; but the expenses were met by +advances upon Thurston's own small patrimony. + +And, in fact, when at last the young gentleman returned to his native +country, it was because his property was nearly exhausted, and his +remittances were small, few and far between, grudgingly sent, and about +to be stopped. Therefore nearly penniless, but perfectly free from the +smallest debt or degradation--elegant, accomplished, fastidious, yet +truthful, generous, gallant and aspiring--Thurston left the elegant +salons and exciting scenes of Paris for the comparative dullness and +dreariness of his native place and his grandfather's house. + +He had reached his legal majority just before leaving Paris, and soon +after his arrival at home he was appointed trustee of poor Fanny +Laurie's property. + +His first act was to visit Fanny in the distant asylum in which she was +confined, and ascertain her real condition. And having heard her +pronounced incurable, though perfectly harmless, he determined to +release her from the confinement of the asylum, and to bring her home +to her native county, where, among the woods and hills and streams, she +might find at once that freedom, space and solitude so desired by the +heart-sick or brain-sick, and where also his own care might avail her. + +Old Mr. Willcoxen, far from offering opposition to this plan, actually +favored it--though from the less worthy motive of economy. What was the +use of spending money to pay her board, and nursing, and medical +attendance, in the asylum, when she might be boarded and nursed and +doctored so much cheaper at home? For the old man confidently looked +forward to the time when the poor, fragile, failing creature would sink +into the grave, and Thurston would become her heir. And he calculated +that every dollar they could save of her income would be so much added +to the inheritance when Thurston should come into it. + +Very soon after Thurston's return home his grandfather gave him to +understand the conditions upon which he intended to make him his heir. +They were two in number, viz., first, that Thurston should never leave +him again while he lived; and, secondly, that he should never marry +without his consent. "For I don't wish to be left alone in my old age, +my dear boy; nor do I wish to see you throw yourself away upon any girl +whose fortune is less than the estate I intend to bequeath entire to +yourself." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +MARIAN, THE INSPIRER. + + +It was not fortunate for old Mr. Willcoxen's plans that his grandson +should have met Marian Mayfield. For, on the morning of Thurston's first +meeting with the charming girl, when he turned his horse's head from the +arched gateway of Old Field Cottage and galloped off, "a haunting shape +and image gay" attended him. + +It was that of beautiful Marian, with her blooming face and sunny hair, +and rounded roseate neck and bosom and arms, all softly, delicately +flushed with the pure glow of rich, luxuriant vitality, as she stood in +the sunlight, under the arch of azure morning-glories, with her graceful +arms raised in the act of binding up the vines. + +At first this "image fair" was almost unthought of; he was scarcely +conscious of the haunting presence, or the life and light it gradually +diffused through his whole being. And when the revelation dawned upon +his intellect, he smiled to himself and wondered if, for the first time, +he was falling in love; and then he grew grave, and tried to banish the +dangerous thought. But when, day after day, amid all the business and +the pleasures of his life, the "shape" still pursued him, instead of +getting angry with it or growing weary of it, he opened his heart and +took it in, and made it at home, and set it upon a throne, where it +reigned supreme, diffusing delight over all his nature. But soon, too +soon, this bosom's sovereign became the despot, and stung, goaded and +urged him to see again this living, breathing, glowing, most beautiful +original. To seek her? For what? He did not even try to answer the +question. + +Thus passed one week. + +And then, had he been disposed to forget the beautiful girl, he could +not have done so. For everywhere where the business of his grandfather +took him--around among the neighboring planters, to the villages of +B---- or of C----, everywhere he heard of Marian, and frequently he +saw her, though at a distance, or under circumstances that made it +impossible for him, without rudeness, to address her. He both saw and +heard of her in scenes and society where he could hardly have expected +to find a young girl of her insignificant position. + +Marian was a regular attendant of the Protestant church at Benedict, +where, before the morning service, she taught in the Sunday-school, and +before the afternoon service she received a class of colored children. + +And Thurston, who had been a very careless and desultory attendant, +sometimes upon the Catholic chapel, sometimes upon the Protestant +church, now became a very regular frequenter of the latter place of +worship; the object of his worship being not the Creator, but the +creature, whom, if he missed from her accustomed seat, the singing, and +praying, and preaching for him lost all of its meaning, power and +spirituality. In the churchyard he sometimes tried to catch her eye and +bow to her; but he was always completely baffled in his aspirations +after a nearer communion. She was always attended from the church and +assisted into her saddle by Judge Provost, Colonel Thornton, or some +other "potent, grave and reverend seignors," who "hedged her about with +a divinity" that it was impossible, without rudeness and intrusion, to +break through. The more he was baffled and perplexed, the more eager +became his desire to cultivate her acquaintance. Had his course been +clear to woo her for his wife, it would have been easy to ask permission +of Edith to visit her at her house; but such was not the case, and +Thurston, tampering with his own integrity of purpose, rather wished +that this much coveted acquaintance should be incidental, and their +interviews seem accidental, so that he should not commit himself, or in +any way lead her to form expectations which he had no surety of being +able to meet. How long this cool and cautious foresight might avail him, +if once he were brought in close companionship with Marian, remains to +be seen. It happened one Sunday afternoon in October that he saw Marian +take leave of her venerable escort, Colonel Thornton, at the churchyard +gate, and gayly and alone turn into the forest road that led to her own +home. He immediately threw himself into his saddle and followed her, +with the assumed air of an indifferent gentleman pursuing his own path. +He overtook her near one of those gates that frequently intersect the +road. Bowing, he passed her, opened the gate, and held it open for her +passage. Marian smiled, and nodded with a pleasant: + +"Good-afternoon, Mr. Willcoxen," as she went through, + +Thurston closed the gate and rode on after her. + +"This is glorious weather, Miss Mayfield." + +"Glorious, indeed!" replied Marian. + +"And the country, too, is perfectly beautiful at this season. I never +could sympathize with the poets who call autumnal days 'the melancholy +days--the saddest of the year.'" + +"Nor I," said Marian; "for to me, autumn, with its refulgent skies, and +gorgeous woods, and rich harvest, and its prospect of Christmas cheer +and wintry repose has ever seemed a gay and festive season. The year's +great work is done, the harvest is gathered, enjoyment is present, and +repose at hand." + +"In the world of society," said Thurston, "it is in the evening, after +the labor or the business of the day is over, that the gayest scenes of +festivity occur, just preceding the repose of sleep. So I receive your +thought of the autumn--the evening of the year, preceding the rest of +winter. Nature's year's work is done; she puts on her most gorgeous +robes, and holds a festival before she sinks to her winter's sleep." + +Marian smiled brightly upon him. + +"Yes; my meaning, I believe, only more pointedly expressed." + +That smile--that smile! It lightened through all his nature with +electric, life-giving, spirit-realizing power, elevating and inspiring +his whole being. His face, too, was radiant with life as he answered the +maiden's smile. + +But something in his eyes caused Marian's glances to fall, and the rosy +clouds to roll up over her cheeks and brow. + +Then Thurston governed his countenance--let no ardent or admiring +glance escape, and when he spoke again his manner and words were more +deferential. + +"We spoke of the world of nature, Miss Mayfield; but how is it with the +world of man? To many--nay, to most of the human race--autumn is the +herald of a season not of festivity and repose, but of continued labor, +and increased want and privation and suffering." + +"That is because society is not in harmony with nature; man has wandered +as far from nature as from God," said Marian. + +"And as much needs a Saviour to lead him back to the one as to the +other," replied Thurston. + +"You know that--you feel it?" asked Marian, turning upon him one of her +soul-thrilling glances. + +Thurston trembled with delicious pleasure through all his frame; but, +guarding his eyes, lest again they should frighten off her inspiring +glances, he answered, fervently: + +"I know and feel it most profoundly." + +And Thurston thought he spoke the very truth, though in sober fact he +had never thought or felt anything about the subject until now that +Marian, his inspirer, poured her life-giving spirit into his soul. + +She spoke again, earnestly, ardently. + +"You know and feel it most profoundly! That deep knowledge and that deep +feeling is the chrism oil that has anointed you a messenger and a +laborer in the cause of humanity. 'Called and chosen,' be thou also +faithful. There are many inspired, many anointed; but few are faithful!" + +"Thou, then, art the high priestess that hast poured the consecrated oil +on my head. I will be faithful!" + +He spoke with such sudden enthusiasm, such abandon, that it had the +effect of bringing Marian back to the moderation and _retenue_ of her +usual manner. He saw it in the changed expression of her countenance; +and what light or shade of feeling passed over that beautiful face +unmarked of him? When he spoke again it was composedly. + +"You speak as the preachers and teachers preach and teach--in general +terms. Be explicit; what would you have me to do, Miss Mayfield? Only +indicate my work, and tell me how to set about the accomplishment of it, +and never knight served liege lady as I will serve you!" + +Marian smiled. + +"How? Oh, you must make yourself a position from which to influence +people! I do not know that I can advise you how; but you will find a +way, as--were I a man, I should!" + +"Being a woman, you have done wonders!" + +"For a woman," said Marian, with a glance full of archness and +merriment. + +"No, no; for any one, man or woman! But your method, Marian? I beg your +pardon, Miss Mayfield," he added, with a blush of ingenuous +embarrassment. + +"Nay, now," said the frank girl; "do call me Marian if that name springs +more readily from your lips than the other. Almost all persons call me +Marian, and I like it." + +A rush of pleasure thrilled all through his veins; he gave her words a +meaning and a value for himself that they did not certainly possess; he +forgot that the grace extended to him was extended to all--nay, that she +had even said as much in the very words that gave it. He answered: + +"And if I do, fairest Marian, shall I, too, hear my own Christian name +in music from your lips?" + +"Oh, I do not know," said the beautiful girl, laughing and blushing. "If +it ever comes naturally, perhaps; certainly not now. Why, the venerable +Colonel Thornton calls me 'Marian,' but it never comes to me to call him +'John!'" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +LOVE. + + +This was but one of many such meetings, Thurston growing more and more +infatuated each time, while Marian scarcely tried to hide the pleasure +which his society gave her. + +One day when riding through the forest he met Marian returning from +the village and on foot. She was radiant with health and beauty, and +blushing and smiling with joy as she met him. A little basket hung upon +her arm. To dismount and join her, to take the basket from her arm, and +to look in her face and declare in broken exclamations his delight at +seeing her, were the words and the work of an instant. + +"And whither away this morning, fairest Marian?" he inquired, when +unrebuked he had pressed her hand to his lips, and drawn it through his +arm. + +"I have been to the village, and am now going home," said the maiden. + +"It is a long walk through the forest." + +"Yes; but my pony has cast a shoe and lamed himself slightly, and I fear +I shall have to dispense with his services for a few days." + +"Thank God!" fervently ejaculated Thurston to himself. + +"But it is beautiful weather, and I enjoy walking," said the young girl. + +"Marian--dearest Marian, will you let me attend you home? The walk is +lonely, and it may not be quite safe for a fair woman to take it +unattended." + +"I have no fear of interruption," said Marian. + +"Yet you will not refuse to let me attend you? Do not, Marian!" he +pleaded, earnestly, fervently, clasping her hand, and pouring the whole +strength of his soul in the gaze that he fastened on her face. + +"I thank you; but you were riding the other way." + +"It was merely an idle saunter, to help to kill the time between this +and Sunday, dearest girl. Now, rest you, my queen! my queen! upon this +mossy rock, as on a throne, while I ride forward and leave my horse. I +will be with you again in fifteen minutes; in the meantime here is +something for you to look at," he said, drawing from his pocket an +elegant little volume bound in purple and gold, and laying it in her +lap. He then smiled, sprang into his saddle, bowed, and galloped away, +leaving Marian to examine her book. It was a London copy of Spenser's +Fairy Queen, superbly illustrated, one of the rarest books to be found +in the whole country at that day. On the fly-leaf the name of Marian was +written, in the hand of Thurston. + +Some minutes passed in the pleasing examination of the volume; and +Marian was still turning the leaves with unmixed pleasure--pleasure in +the gift, and pleasure in the giver--when Thurston, even before the +appointed time, suddenly rejoined her. + +"So absorbed in Spenser that you did not even hear or see me!" said the +young man, half reproachfully. + +"I was indeed far gone in Fairy Land! Oh, I thank you so much for your +beautiful present! It is indeed a treasure. I shall prize it greatly," +said Marian, in unfeigned delight. + +"Do you know that Fairy Land is not obsolete, dearest Marian?" he said, +fixing his eyes upon her charming face with an ardor and earnestness +that caused hers to sink. + +"Come," she said, in a low voice, and rising from the rock; "let us +leave this place and go forward." + +They walked on, speaking softly of many things--of the vision of +Spenser, of the beautiful autumnal weather, of anything except the one +interest that now occupied both hearts. The fear of startling her +bashful trust, and banishing those bewitching glances that sometimes +lightened on his face, made him cautious, and restrained his eagerness; +while excessive consciousness kept her cheeks dyed with blushes, and her +nerves vibrating sweet, wild music, like the strings of some aeolian +harp when swept by the swift south wind. + +He determined, during the walk, to plead his love, and ascertain his +fate. Ay! but how approach the subject when, at every ardent glance or +tone, her face, her heart, shrank and closed up, like the leaves of the +sensitive plant. + +So they rambled on, discovering new beauties in nature; now it would be +merely an oak leaf of rare richness of coloring; now some tiny insect +with finished elegance of form; now a piece of the dried branch of a +tree that Thurston picked up, to bid her note the delicately blending +shades in its gray hue, or the curves and lines of grace in its twisted +form--the beauty of its slow return to dust; and now perhaps it would +be the mingled colors in the heaps of dried leaves drifted at the foot +of some great tree. + +And then from the minute loveliness of nature's sweet, small things, +their eyes would wander to the great glory of the autumnal sky, or the +variegated array of the gorgeous forest. + +Thurston knew a beautiful glade, not far distant, to the left of their +path, from which there was a very fine view that he wished to show his +companion. And he led Marian thither by a little moss-bordered, +descending path. + +It was a natural opening in the forest, from which, down a still, +descending vista, between the trees, could be seen the distant bay, and +the open country near it, all glowing under a refulgent sky, and hazy +with the golden mist of Indian Summer. Before them the upper branches of +the nearest trees formed a natural arch above the picture. + +Marian stood and gazed upon the wondrous beauty of the scene with soft, +steady eyes, with lips breathlessly severed, in perfect silence and +growing emotion. + +"This pleases you," said Thurston. + +She nodded, without removing her gaze. + +"You find it charming?" + +She nodded again, and smiled. + +"You were never here before?" + +"Never." + +"Marian, you are a lover of nature." + +"I do not know," she said, softly, "whether it be love, or worship, or +both; but some pictures spell-bind me. I stand amidst a scene like this, +enchanted, until my soul has absorbed as much of its beauty and glory +and wisdom as it can absorb. As the Ancient Mariner held with his +'glittering eye' the wedding guest, so such a picture holds me +enthralled until I have heard the story and learned the lesson it has to +tell and teach me. Did you ever, in the midst of nature's liberal +ministrations, feel your spirit absorbing, assimilating, growing? Or is +it only a fantastic action of mine that beauty is the food of soul?" + +She turned her eloquent eyes full upon him. + +He forgot his prudence, forgot her claims, forgot everything, and caught +and strained her to his bosom, pressing passionate kisses upon her lips, +and the next instant he was kneeling at her feet, imploring her to +forgive him--to hear him. + +Marian stood with her face bowed and hidden in her hands; but above the +tips of her fingers, her forehead, crimsoned, might be seen. One half +her auburn hair had escaped and rippled down in glittering disorder. And +so she stood a few moments. But soon, removing her hands and turning +away, she said, in a troubled tone: + +"Rise. Never kneel to any creature; that homage is due the Creator +alone. Oh, rise!" + +"First pardon me--first hear me, beloved girl!" + +"Oh, rise--rise, I beg you! I cannot bear to see a man on his knee, +except in prayer to God!" she said, walking away. + +He sprang up and followed her, took her hand, and, with gentle +compulsion, made her sit down upon a bank; and then he sank beside her, +exclaiming eagerly, vehemently, yet in a low, half-smothered tone: + +"Marian, I love you! I never spoke these words to woman before, for I +never loved before. Marian, the first moment that I saw you I loved you, +without knowing what new life it was that had kindled in my nature. I +have loved you more and more every day! I love you more than words can +tell or heart conceive! I only live in your presence! Marian! not one +word or glance for me? Oh, speak! Turn your dear face toward me," he +said, putting his hand gently around her head. "Speak to me, Marian, for +I adore--I worship you!" + +"I do not deserve to be loved in that way. I do not wish it, for it is +wrong--idolatrous," she said, in a low, trembling voice. + +"Oh! what do you mean? Is the love upon which my life seems to hang so +offensive to you? Say, Marian! Oh! you are compassionate by nature; how +can you keep me in the torture of suspense?" + +"I do not keep you so." + +"You will let me love you?" + +Marian slipped her hand in his; that was her reply. + +"You will love me?" + +For all answer she gently pressed his fingers. He pressed her hand to +his heart, to his lips, covering it with kisses. + +"Yet, oh! speak to me, dearest; let me hear from your lips that you love +me--a little--but better than I deserve. Will you? Say, Marian! Speak, +dearest girl!" + +"I cannot tell you now," she said, in a low, thrilling tone. "I am +disturbed; I wish to grow quiet; and I must go home. Let us return." + +One more passionate kiss of the hand he clasped, and then he helped her +to her feet, drew her arm within his own, and led her up the +moss-covered rocks that formed the natural steps of the ascent that led +to the homeward path. + +They were now near the verge of the forest, which, when they reached, +Marian drew her arm from his, and, extending her hand, said: + +"This is the place our roads part." + +"But you will let me attend you home?" + +"No; it would make the return walk too long." + +"That can be no consideration, I beg you will let me go with you, +Marian." + +"No; it would not be convenient to Edith to-day," said Marian, quickly +drawing her hand from his detaining grasp, waving him adieu, and walking +swiftly away across the meadow. + +Thurston gazed after her, strongly tempted to follow her; yet withal +admitting that it was best that she had declined his escort to the +cottage, and thanking Heaven that the opportunity would again be +afforded to take an "incidental" stroll with her, as she should walk to +church on Sunday morning; and so, forming the resolution to haunt the +forest-path from seven o'clock that next Sabbath morning until he should +see her, Thurston hurried home. + +And how was it with Marian? She hastened to the cottage, laid off her +bonnet and shawl, and set herself at work as diligently as usual; but a +higher bloom glowed on her cheek, a softer, brighter light beamed in her +eye, a warmer, sweeter smile hovered around her lips, a deeper, richer +tone thrilled in her voice. + +On Sunday morning the lovers "chanced" to meet again--for so Thurston +would still have had it appear as he permitted Marian to overtake him in +the forest on her way to the Sunday-school. + +She was blooming and beautiful as the morning itself as she approached. +He turned with a radiant smile to greet her. + +"Welcome! thrice welcome, dearest one! Your coming is more joyous than +that of day. Welcome, my own, dear Marian! May I now call you mine? Have +I read that angel-smile aright? Is it the blessed herald of a happy +answer to my prayer?" he whispered, as he took her hand and passed his +arm around her head and brought it down upon his bosom. "Speak, my +Marian! Speak, my beloved! Are you my own, as I am yours?" + +Her answer was so low-toned that he had to bend his head down close to +her lips to hear her murmur: + +"I love you dearly. But I love you too well to ruin your prospects. You +must not bind yourself to me just yet, dear Thurston," and meekly and +gently she sought to slip from his embrace. + +But he slid his arm around her lightly, bending his head and whispering +eagerly: + +"What mean you, Marian? Your words are incomprehensible." + +"Dear Thurston," she answered, in a tremulous and thrilling voice, "I +have known your grandfather long by report, and I am well aware of his +character and disposition and habits. But only yesterday I chanced to +learn from one who was well informed that old Mr. Willcoxen had sworn to +make you his heir only upon condition of your finding a bride of equal +or superior fortunes. If now you were to engage yourself to me, your +grandfather would disinherit you. I love you too well," she murmured +very low, "to ruin your fortunes. You must not bind yourself to me just +now, Thurston." + +And this loving, frank and generous creature was the woman, he thought, +whose good name he would have periled in a clandestine courtship in +preference to losing his inheritance by an open betrothal. A stab of +compunction pierced his bosom; he felt that he loved her more than ever, +but passion was stronger than affection, stronger than conscience, +stronger than anything in nature, except pride and ambition. He +lightened his clasp about her waist--he bent and whispered: + +"Beloved Marian, is it to bind me only that you hesitate?" + +"Only that," she answered, softly. + +"Now hear me, Marian. I swear before Heaven, and in thy sight--that--as +I have never loved woman before you--that--as I love you only of all +women--I will be faithful to you while I live upon this earth! as your +husband, if you will accept me; as your exclusive lover, whether you +will or not! I hold myself pledged to you as long as we both shall live! +There, Marian! I am bound to you as tight as vows can bind! I am pledged +to you whether you accept my pledge or not. You cannot even release, for +I am pledged to Heaven as well. There, Marian, you see I am bound, while +you only are free. Come! be generous! You have said that you loved me! +Pledge yourself to me in like manner. We are both young, dear Marian, +and we can wait. Only let me have your promise to be my wife--only let +me have that blessed assurance for the future, and I can endure the +present. Speak, dear Marian." + +"Your grandfather--" + +"He has no grudge against you, personally, sweet girl; he knows nothing, +suspects nothing of my preferences--how should he? No, dearest girl--his +notion that I must have a moneyed bride is the merest whim of dotage; we +must forgive the whims of ninety-five. That great age also augurs for us +a short engagement and a speedy union!" + +"Oh! never let us dream of that! It would be sinful, and draw down upon +us the displeasure of Heaven. Long may the old man yet live to prepare +for a better life." + +"Amen; so be it; God forbid that I should grudge the aged patriarch his +few remaining days upon earth--days, too, upon which his soul's immortal +welfare may depend," said Thurston. "But, dearest girl, it is more +difficult to get a reply from you than from a prime minister. Answer, +now, once for all, sweet girl! since I am forever bound to you; will you +pledge yourself to become my own dear wife?" + +"Yes," whispered Marian, very lowly. + +"And will you," he asked, gathering her form closer to his bosom, "will +you redeem that pledge when I demand it?" + +"Yes," she murmured sweetly, "so that it is not to harm you, or bring +you into trouble or poverty; for that I would not consent to do!" + +"God bless you; you are an angel! Oh! Marian! I find it in my heart to +sigh because I am so unworthy of you!" + +And this was spoken most sincerely. + +"You think too well of me. I fear--I fear for the consequences." + +"Why, dearest Marian?" + +"Oh, I fear that when you know me better you may love me less," she +answered, in a trembling voice. + +"Why should I?" + +"Oh! because your love may have been attracted by ideal qualities, with +which you yourself have invested me; and when your eyes are opened you +may love me less." + +"May my soul forever perish the day that I cease to love you!" said +Thurston, passionately pressing her to his heart, and sealing his +fearful oath upon her pure brow and guileless lips. "And now, beloved! +this compact is sealed! Our fates are united forever! Henceforth nothing +shall dissever us!" + +They were now drawing near the village. + +Marian suddenly stopped. + +"Dear Thurston," she said, "if you are seen waiting upon me to church do +you know what the people will say? They will say that Marian has a new +admirer in Mr. Willcoxen--and that will reach your grandfather's ears, +and give you trouble." + +"Stay! one moment, beautiful Marian! When shall we meet again?" + +"When Heaven wills." + +"And when will that be, fairest?" + +"I do not know; but do not visit me at the cottage, dear Thurston, it +would be indiscreet." + +"Marian! I must see you often. Will you meet me on the beach to-morrow +afternoon?" + +"No," answered Marian, gravely, "in this single instance, I must not +meet you, though my heart pleads like a sick child with me to do it, +Thurston, dear Thurston." + +She raised her eyes to his as she spoke, and giving way to a sudden +impulse, dropped her head upon his shoulder, put her arms around his +neck, and embraced him. And then his better angel rose above the storm +of passion that was surging through his veins, and calmed the tumult, +and spoke through his lips. + +"You are right, Marian--fairest and dearest, you are right. And I not +only love you best of all women, but honor you more than all men. It +shall be as you have said. I will not seek you anywhere. As the mother, +dying of plague, denies herself the parting embrace of her 'unstricken' +child--so, for your sake, will I refrain from the heaven of your +presence." + +"And, dear Thurston," she said, raising her head, "it will not be so +hard to bear, as you now think. We shall see each other every Sunday in +the church, and every Monday in the lecture-room. We shall often be of +the same invited company at neighbors' houses. Remember, also, that +Christmas is coming, with its protracted festivities, when we shall see +each other almost every evening, at some little neighborhood gathering. +And now I must really hurry; oh! how late I am this morning! Good-by, +dearest Thurston!" + +"Good-by, my own Marian." + +Blushingly she received, his parting kiss, and hurried along the little +foot-path leading to the village. + +Thurston had been perfectly sincere in his resolution not to seek a +private interview with Marian; and he kept it faithfully all the week, +with less temptation to break it, because he did not know where to watch +for her. + +But Sunday came again--and Thurston, with a little bit of human +self-deception and _finesse_, avoided the forest path, where he had met +her the preceding Sabbath, and saying to himself that he would not +waylay her, took the river road, refusing to confess even to himself +that he acted upon the calculation that she also would take the same +road, in order to avoid meeting him in the forest. + +His "calculus of probabilities" had not failed him. He had not walked +far upon the forest-shaded banks of the river before he saw Marian +walking before him. He hastened and overtook her. + +At first seeing him her face flushed radiant with surprise and joy. +She seemed to think that nothing short of necromancy could have conjured +him to that spot. She had no reproaches for him, because she had no +suspicion that he had trifled with his promise not to seek her. But she +expressed her astonishment. + +"I did not know you ever came this way," she said. + +"Nor did I ever before, love; but I remembered my pledge, not to follow +or to seek you, and so I avoided the woodland path where we met last +Sunday," said Thurston, persuading himself that he spoke the precise +truth. + +It is not necessary to pursue with them this walk; lovers scarcely thank +us for such intrusions. It is sufficient to say that this was not the +last one. + +Blinded by passion and self-deception, and acting upon the same astute +calculus of probabilities, Thurston often contrived to meet Marian in +places where his presence might be least expected, and most often in +paths that she had taken for the express purpose of keeping out of his +way. + +Thus it fell that many forest walks and seashore strolls were taken, all +through the lovely Indian summer weather. And these seemed so much the +result of pure accident that Marian never dreamed of complaining that +his pledge had been tampered with. + +But Thurston began to urge her consent to a private marriage. + +From a secret engagement to a secret marriage, the transition seemed to +him very easy. + +"And, dearest Marian, we are both of age, both free--we should neither +displease God nor wrong man, by such a step--while it would at the same +time secure our union, and save us from injustice and oppression! do you +not see?" + +Such was his argument, which he pleaded and enforced with all the powers +of passion and eloquence. In vain. Though every interview increased his +power over the maiden--though her affections and her will were both +subjected, the domain of conscience was unconquered. And Marian still +answered: + +"Though a secret marriage would break no law of God or man, nor +positively wrong any human creature, yet it might be the cause of +misunderstanding and suspicion--and perhaps calumny, causing much +distress to those who love and respect me. Therefore it would be +wrong. And I must do no wrong, even for your dear sake." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +CLOUDY. + + +It was Christmas Eve and a fierce snow-storm was raging. + +Old Mr. Willcoxen sat half doubled up in his leather-covered elbow +chair, in the chimney corner of his bedroom, occupied with smoking his +clay pipe, and thinking about his money bags. + +Fanny was in the cold, bleak upper rooms of the house, looking out of +the windows upon the wide desolation of winter, the waste of snow, the +bare forest, the cold, dark waters of the bay--listening to the driving +tempest, and singing, full of glee as she always was when the elements +were in an uproar. + +Thurston was the sole and surly occupant of the sitting-room, where he +had thrown himself at full length upon the sofa, to lie and yawn over +the newspaper, which he vowed was as stale as last year's almanac. + +Suddenly the front door was thrown open, and some one came, followed by +the driving wind and snow, into the hall. + +Thurston threw aside his paper, started up, and went out. + +What was his surprise to see Cloudesley Mornington standing there, with +a face so haggard, with eyes so wild and despairing, that, in alarm, he +exclaimed: + +"Good heaven, Cloudesley. What is the matter? Has anything happened at +home?" + +"Home! home! What home? I have no home upon this earth now, and never +shall have!" exclaimed the poor youth, distractedly. + +"My dear fellow, never speak so despondently. What is it now? a +difficulty with the commodore?" + +"God's judgment light upon him!" cried Cloudy, pushing past and hurrying +up the stairs. + +Thurston could not resume his former composure; something in Cloudy's +face had left a feeling of uneasiness in his mind, and the oftener he +recalled the expression the more troubled he became. + +Until at length he could bear the anxiety no longer, and quietly leaving +his room, he went up-stairs in search of the youth, and paused before +the boy's door. By the clicking, metallic sounds within, he suspected +him to be engaged in loading a pistol; for what purpose! Not an instant +was to be risked in rapping or questioning. + +With one vigorous blow of his heel Thurston burst open the door, and +sprung forward and dashed the fatal weapon from his hand, and then +confronted him, exclaiming: + +"Good God, Cloudy! What does this mean?" + +Cloudy looked at him wildly for a minute, and when Thurston repeated the +question, he answered with a hollow laugh: + +"That I am crazy, I guess! don't you think so?" + +"Cloudy, my dear fellow, we have been like brothers all our lives; now +won't you tell me what has brought you to this pass? What troubles you +so much? Perhaps I can aid you in some way. Come, what is it now?" + +"And you really don't know what it is? Don't you know that there is a +wedding on hand?" + +"A wedding!" + +"Aye, man alive! A wedding! They are going to marry the child Jacquelina +to old Grimshaw." + +"Oh, yes, I know that; but, my dear boy, what of it? Surely you were +never in love with little Jacko?" + +"In love with her! ha! ha! no, not as you understand it! who take it to +be that fantastical passion that may be inspired by the first sight of a +pretty face. No! I am not in love with her, unless I could be in love +with myself. For Lina was my other self. Oh, you who can talk so glibly +of being 'in love,' little know that strength of attachment when two +hearts have grown together from childhood." + +"It is like a brother's and a sister's." + +"Never! brothers and sisters cannot love so. What brother ever loved a +sister as I have loved Lina from our infancy? What brother ever would +have done and suffered as much for his sister as I have for Lina?" + +"You! done and suffered for Lina!" said Thurston, beginning to think he +was really mad. + +"Yes! how many faults as a boy I have shouldered for her. How many +floggings I have taken. How many shames I have borne for her, which she +never knew. Oh! how I have spent my night watches at sea, dreaming of +her. For years I have been saving up all my money to buy a pretty +cottage for her and her mother that she loves so well. I meant to have +bought or built one this very year. And after having made the pretty +nest, to have wooed my pretty bird to come and occupy it. I meant to +have been such a good boy to her mother, too! I pleased myself with +fancying how the poor, little timorous woman would rest in so much peace +and confidence in our home--with me and Lina. I have saved so much that +I am richer than any one knows, and I meant to have accomplished all +that this very time of coming home. I hurried home. I reached the house. +I ran in like a wild boy as I was. Her voice called me. I followed its +sound--ran up-stairs to her room. I found her in bed. I thought she was +sick. But she sprang up, and threw herself upon my bosom, and with her +arms clasped about my neck, wept as if her heart would break. And while +I wondered what the matter could be, her mother interfered and told me. +God's judgment light upon them all, I say! Oh! it was worse than murder. +It was a horrid, horrid crime, that has no name because there is none +heinous enough for it. Thurston! I acted like a very brute! God help me, +I was both stunned and maddened, as it seems to me now. For I could not +speak. I tore her little, fragile, clinging arms from off my neck, and +thrust her from me. And here I am. Don't ask me how I loved her! I have +no words to tell you!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE FAIRY BRIDE. + + +Since the morning of her ill-starred marriage, Sans Souci had waned like +a waning moon; and the bridegroom saw, with dismay, his fairy bride +slowly fading, passing, vanishing from his sight. There was no very +marked disorder, no visible or tangible symptoms to guide the +physicians, who were in succession summoned to her relief. Very obscure +is the pathology of a wasting heart, very occult the scientific +knowledge that can search out the secret sickness, which, the further it +is sought, shrinks the deeper from sight. + +Once, indeed, while she was sitting with her aunt and uncle, the latter +suddenly and rudely mentioned Cloudy's name, saying that "the fool" was +sulking over at Dell-Delight; that he believed he would have blown his +brains out if it had not been for Thurston, and for his own part, he +almost wished that he had been permitted to do so, because he thought +none but a fool would ever commit suicide, and the fewer fools there +were in the world the better, etc., etc. His monologue was suddenly +arrested by Henrietta's rushing forward to lift up Sans Souci, who had +turned very pale, and dropped from her seat to the floor, where she lay +silently quivering and gasping, like some poor wounded and dying bird. + +They tacitly resolved, from this time forth, never to name Cloudy in her +presence again. + +And the commodore struck his heavy stick upon the floor, and +emphatically thanked God that Nace Grimshaw had not been present to +witness her agitation and its cause. + +And Jacquelina waned and waned. And the physicians, wearied out with her +case, prescribed "Change of air and scene--pleasant company--cheerful +amusement--excitement," etc. A winter in Washington was suggested. And +the little invalid was consulted as to her wishes upon the subject. +"Yes," Jacquelina said she would go--anywhere, if only her aunty and +Marian would go with her--she wanted Marian. + +Mrs. Waugh readily consented to accompany her favorite, and also to try +to induce "Hebe," as she called blooming Marian, to make one of their +party. + +And the very first day that the weather and the roads would admit of +traveling, Mrs. Waugh rode over to Old Fields to see Marian, and talk +with her about the contemplated journey. + +The proposition took the young lady by surprise; there were several +little lets and hindrances to her immediate acceptance of the +invitation, which might, however, be disposed of; and finally, Marian +begged a day to consider about it. With this answer, Mrs. Waugh was +forced to be content, and she took her leave, saying: + +"Remember, Hebe! that I think your society and conversation more +needful, and likely to be more beneficial to poor Lapwing, than anything +else we can procure for her; therefore, pray decide to go with us, if +possible." + +Marian deprecated such reliance upon her imperfect abilities, but +expressed her strong desire to do all the good she possibly could effect +for the invalid, and made little doubt but that she should at least be +able to attend her. So, with this hope, Mrs. Waugh kissed her and +departed. + +The very truth was, that Marian wished to see and consult her bethrothed +before consenting to leave home for what seemed to her to be so long a +journey, and for so long a period. In fact, Marian was not now a free +agent; she had suffered her free will to slip from her own possession +into that of Thurston. + +She had not seen him all the wretched weather, and her heart now yearned +for his presence. And that very afternoon Marian had a most pressing +errand to Charlotte Hall, to purchase groceries, which the little family +had got entirely out of during the continuance of the snow. + +There was no certainty that she should see Thurston; still she hoped to +do so, nor was her hope disappointed. + +He overtook her a short distance from the village, on her road home. + +Their meeting was a very glad one--heart sprang to heart and hand to +hand--and neither affected to conceal the pleasure that it gave them. +After the first joyous greetings, and the first earnest and affectionate +inquiries about each other's health and welfare, both became grave and +silent for a little while. Marian was reflecting how to propose to leave +him for a three-months' visit to the gay capital, little thinking that +Thurston himself was perplexed with the question of how to break to her +the news of the necessity of his own immediate departure to England for +an absence of at least six or eight months. Marian spoke first. + +"Dear Thurston, I have something to propose to you, that I fear you will +not like very well; but if you do not, speak freely; for I am not +bound." + +"I--I do not understand you, love! Pray explain at once," said he, quick +to take alarm where she was concerned. + +"You know poor little Jacquelina has fallen into very bad health and +spirits? Well, her physicians recommend change of air and scene, and her +friends have decided to take her to Washington to pass the remainder of +the winter. And the little creature has set her sickly fancy upon having +me to go with her. Now, I think it is some sort a duty to go, and I +would not willingly refuse. Nevertheless, dear Thurston, I dread to +leave you, and if you think you will be very lonesome this winter +without me--if you are likely to miss me one-half as much as I have +missed you these last three weeks, I will not leave you at all." + +He put his hand out and took hers, and pressed it, and would have +carried it to his lips, but her wicked little pony suddenly jerked away. + +"My own dearest Marian," he said; "my frank, generous love! if I were +going to remain in this neighborhood this winter, no consideration, I +fear, for others' good, would induce me to consent to part with you." + +It was now Marian's turn to change color, and falter in her tones, as +she asked: + +"You--you are not going away?" + +"Sweet Marian, yes! A duty--a necessity too imperative to be denied, +summons me." + +She kept her eyes fixed on his face in painful anxiety. + +"I will explain. You have heard, dear Marian, that after my father's +death my mother married a second time?" + +"No--I never heard of it." + +"She did, however--her second husband was a Scotchman. She lived with +him seven years, and then died, leaving him one child, a boy six years +of age. After my mother's death, my stepfather returned to Scotland, +taking with him my half-brother, and leaving me with my grandfather. And +all communication gradually ceased between us. Within this week, +however, I have received letters from Edinburgh, informing me of the +death of my stepfather, and the perfect destitution of my half-brother, +now a lad of twelve years of age. He is at present staying with the +clergyman who attended his father in his last illness, and who has +written me the letters giving me the information that I now give you. +Thus, you see, my dearest love, how urgent the duty is that takes me +from your side. Yet--What! tears, my Marian! Ah, if so! let my dearest +one but say the word, and I will not leave her. I will send money over +to the lad instead." + +"No, no! Ah! no, never trust your mother's orphan boy to strangers, or +to his own guidance. Go for the poor, desolate lad, and never leave him, +or suffer him to leave you. I know what orphanage in childhood is, dear +Thurston, and so must you. Bring the boy home. And if he lives with you, +I will do all I can to supply his mother's place." + +"Dear girl! dear, dear Marian, my heart so longs to press you to itself. +A plague upon these horses that keep us so far apart! I wish we were on +foot!" + +"Do you?" smiled Marian, directing his attention to the sloppy path down +which they were riding. + +Thurston smiled ruefully, and then sighed. + +"When do you set out on your long journey, dear Thurston?" + +"I have not fixed the time, my Marian! I have not the courage to name +the day that shall part us for so long." + +He looked at her with a heavy sigh, and then added: + +"I shrink from appointing the time of going, as a criminal might shrink +from giving the signal for his own execution." + +"Then let some other agent do it," said Marian, smiling at his +earnestness. Then she added--"I shall go to Washington with Jacquelina. +Her party will set out on Wednesday next. And, dear Thurston, I shall +not like to leave you here, at all. I shall go with more content, if I +knew that you set out the same day for your journey." + +"But fairest Marian, never believe but that if you go to Washington, I +shall take that city in on my way. There is a vessel to sail on the +first of February, from Baltimore, for Liverpool. I shall probably go by +her. I shall pass through Washington City on my way to Baltimore. Nay, +indeed! what should hinder me from joining your party and traveling with +you, since we are friends and neighbors, and go at the same time, from +the same neighborhood, by the same road, to the same place?" he asked, +eagerly. + +A smile of joy illumined Marian's face. + +"Truly," she answered, after a short pause. "I see no objection to that +plan. And, oh! Thurston," she said, holding out her hand, and looking at +him with her face holy and beaming with affection, "do you know what +fullness of life and comfort--what sweetness of rest and contentment I +feel in your presence, when I can have that rightly?" + +"My own dear Marian! Heaven hasten the day when we shall be forever +united." + +And he suddenly sprang from his horse--lifted her from her saddle, and +holding her carefully above the sloppy path, folded her fondly to his +bosom, pressed kisses on her lips, and then replaced her, saying: + +"Dear Marian, forgive me! My heart was half breaking with its need to +press you to itself! Now then, dearest, I shall consider it settled that +I join your party to Washington. I shall call at Locust Hill and see +Mrs. Waugh, inform her of my destination, and ask her permission to +accompany her. By the way--when do you give your answer to that lady?" + +"I shall ride over to the Hill to-morrow morning for that purpose." + +"Very well, dearest. In that case I will also appoint the morning as my +time of calling; so that I may have the joy of meeting you there." + +They had by this time reached the verge of the forest and the cross-road +where their paths divided. And here they bade a loving, lingering adieu +to each other, and separated. + +That evening Marian announced to Edith her decision to accompany +Jacquelina to Washington City. + +Edith approved the plan. + +The next morning Marian left the house to go to Locust Hill, where, +besides the family, she found Thurston already awaiting her. + +Thurston was seated by Jacquelina, endeavoring, by his gay and brilliant +sallies of wit and humor, to charm away the sullen sadness of the pale +and petulant little beauty. + +And, truth to tell, soon fitful, fleeting smiles broke over the little +wan face--smiles that grew brighter and more frequent as she noticed the +surly anxiety they gave to Dr. Grimshaw, who sat, like the dog in the +manger, watching Thurston sunning himself in the light of eyes that +never, by any chance, shone upon him, their rightful proprietor! + +Never! for though Jacquelina had paled and waned, failed and faded, +until she seemed more like a moonlight phantom than a form of flesh and +blood--her spirit was unbowed, unbroken, and she had kept her oath of +uncompromising enmity with fearful perseverance. Petitions, +expostulations, prayers, threats, had been all in vain to procure one +smile, one word, one glance of compliance or forgiveness. And the fate +of Dr. Grimshaw, with his unwon bride, was like that of Tantalus. And +now the inconceivable tortures of jealousy were about to be added to his +other torments, for this man now sitting by his side, and basking in the +sunshine of her smiles, was the all-praised Adonis who had won her +maiden admiration months ago. + +But Thurston soon put an end to his sufferings--not in consideration of +his feelings, but because the young gentleman could not afford to lose +or risk the chance of making one of the party which was to number Marian +among its members. Therefore, with a light smile and careless bow, he +left the side of Jacquelina and crossed over to Mrs. Waugh, with whom, +also, he entered into a gay and bantering conversation, in the course of +which Mrs. Waugh mentioned to him their purpose of going to Washington +for a month or two. + +It was then that, with an air of impromptu, Thurston informed her of his +own contemplated journey and voyage, and of his intention to go to +Baltimore by way of Washington. + +"And when do you leave here?" asked Mrs. Waugh. + +"I thought of starting on Wednesday morning." + +"The very day that we shall set out--why can't we travel in company?" +asked Henrietta, socially. + +"I should be charmed, indeed--delighted! And nothing shall prevent me +having that honor and pleasure, if Mrs. Waugh will permit my +attendance." + +"Why, my dear Thurston, to be sure I will--but don't waste fine speeches +on your uncle's old wife. How do you travel?" + +"As far as Washington I shall go on horseback, with a mounted groom to +bring back the horses, when I proceed on my journey by stage to +Baltimore." + +"On horseback! Now that is excellent--that is really providential, as it +falls out--for here is my Hebe, whom I have coaxed to be of the party, +and who will have to perform the journey also on horseback, and you will +make an admirable cavalier for her!" + +Thurston turned and bowed to Marian, and expressed, in courtly terms, +the honor she would confer, and the pleasure she would give, in +permitting him to serve her. And no one, to have seen him, would have +dreamed that the subject had ever before been mentioned between them. + +Marian blushed and smiled, and expressing her thanks, accepted his +offered escort. + +These preliminaries being settled, Thurston soon after arose and took +leave. + +Marian remained some time longer to arrange some little preparatory +matters with Mrs. Waugh, and then bade them good-by, and hastened +homeward. + +But she saw Thurston walking his horse up and down the forest-path, and +impatiently waiting for her. + + * * * * * + +Dr. Grimshaw was very much dissatisfied; and no sooner had Marian left +the home, and left him alone with Mrs. Waugh and Jacquelina, than he +turned to the elder lady, and said, with some asperity: + +"I think it would have been well, Mrs. Waugh, if you had consulted the +other members of your party before making so important an addition to +it." + +"And I think it would be better, Dr. Grimshaw, if you would occupy your +valuable time and attention with affairs that fall more immediately +within your own province," said Henrietta, loftily, as she would +sometimes speak. + +Dr. Grimshaw deigned no reply. He closed his mouth with a spasmodic +snap, and sat ruminating--the very picture of wretchedness. He was, +indeed, to be pitied! For no patience, no kindness, no wooing could win +from his bride one smile. That very afternoon, under the combined +goadings of exasperated self-love and poignant jealousy, Dr. Grimshaw +sought an interview with Mrs. L'Oiseau, and urged her, in the most +strenuous manner, to exert her maternal influence in bringing her +daughter to terms. + +And Mrs. L'Oiseau sent for Jacquelina, to have a talk with her. But not +all her arguments, entreaties, or even tears, could prevail with the +obstinate bride to relax one single degree of her unforgiving antagonism +to her detested bridegroom. + +"Mother," she said, with sorrowful bitterness, "you are well now; +indeed, you never were so ill as I was led to believe; and you are +independent. I parted with my only hope of happiness in life to render +you so; I sold myself in a formal marriage to be the legal medium of +endowing Dr. Grimshaw with a certain landed estate. Even into that +measure I was deceived--no more of that! it crazes me! The conditions +are all fulfilled; he will have the property, and you are independent. +And now he has no further claim upon me, and no power over me!" + +"He has, Jacquelina; and it is only Dr. Grimshaw's forbearance that +permits you to indulge in this wicked whim." + +"His forbearance! Oh! hasn't he been forbearing, though!" she exclaimed, +with a mocking laugh. + +"Yes; he has, little as you are disposed to acknowledge it. You do not +seem to know that he can compel your submission!" + +"Can he!" she hissed, drawing her breath sharply through her clenched +teeth, and clutching her fingers convulsively, while a white ring +gleamed around the blue iris of her dilated eyes. "Let him try! let him +drive me to desperation, and then learn how spirits dare to escape! But +he will not do that. Mimmy! he reads me better than you do; he knows +that he must not urge me beyond my powers of endurance. No, mother! Let +him take my uncle into his counsels again, if he pleases; let them +combine all their ingenuity, and wickedness, and power, and bring them +all to bear on me at once; let them do their worst--they shall not gain +one concession from me; not one smile, not one word, not one single look +of tolerance--so help me heaven! And they know it, mother!--they know +it! And why? You are secured from their malice; now they can turn no +screws upon my heart-strings!--and I am free! They know it, mother--they +know it, if you do not." + +"But, Jacquelina, this is a very, very wicked life to lead! You are +living in a state of mortal sin while you persist in this shocking +rebellion against the authority and just rights of your husband." + +"He is not my husband! that I utterly deny! I have never made him such! +There was nothing in our nominal marriage to give him that claim. It was +a mere legal form, for a mercenary purpose. It was a wicked and shameful +subterfuge; a sacrilegious desecration of God's holy altar! but in its +wickedness heaven knows I had little will! I was deluded and disturbed; +facts were misrepresented to me, threats were made that could never have +been executed; my fears were excited for your life; my affections were +wrought upon; I was driven out of my senses even before I did consent to +be his nominal wife--the legal sumpter-mule to carry him an estate. I +promised nothing more, and I have kept all my promises. It is over! it +is over! it is done! and it cannot be undone! But I never--never will +forgive that man for the part he played in the drama!" + +"_Ave Maria, Mater Dolorosa!_ Was ever a mother so sorrowful as I? Holy +saints and angels! how you shock me. Don't you know, wretched child, +that you are committing deadly sin? Don't you know, alas! the holy +church would refuse you its communion?" + +"Let it! I will be excommunicated before I will give Dr. Grimshaw one +tolerant glance! I will risk the eternal rather than fall into the +nearer perdition!" + +"Holy Mary save her! Don't you know, most miserable child! that such is +your condition, that if you were to die now your soul would go to +burning flames?" + +"Ha! ha! Where do you think it is now, Mimmy?" + +"You are mad! You don't know what you're talking about! And, alas! you +are half an infidel, I know, for you don't believe in hell!" + +"Yes, I do, Mimmy! Oh! yes, indeed I do! If ever my faith was shaken +in that article of belief, it is firm enough now! It is more than +re-established, for, look you, Mimmy! I believe in heaven, but I know +of hell!" + +"I'm very glad you do, my dear. And I hope you will meditate much upon +it, and it may lead you to change your course in regard to Dr. Grimshaw." + +"Mimmy!" she said, with a wild laugh, "is there a deeper pit in +perdition than that to which you urge me now?" + + * * * * * + +Fortune certainly favored the lovers that day; for when Thurston reached +home in the evening, his grandfather said to him: + +"Well, Mr. Jackanapes, since you are to sail from the port of Baltimore, +I think it altogether best that you should take a private conveyance, +and go by way of Washington." + +"That will be a very lonesome manner of traveling, sir," answered the +young man, demurely. + +"It will be a very cheap one, you mean, and, therefore, will not befit +you, Sir Millionaire! It will cost nothing, and, therefore, lose its +only charm for you, my Lord Spendthrift," cried the miser, sharply. + +"On the contrary, sir, I only object to the loneliness of the long +journey." + +"No one to chatter to, eh, Mr. Magpie! Well, it need not be so! There's +Nace Grimshaw, and his set--extravagant fools!--going up to the city to +flaunt among the fashionables. You can go as they go, and chatter to the +other monkey, Jacquelina--and make Old Nace mad with jealousy, so that +he shall go and hang himself, and leave you the widow and her fortune! +Come! is there mischief enough to amuse you? But I know you won't do it! +I know it! I know it! I know it! just because I wish you to!" + +"What, sir? drive Dr. Grimshaw to hang himself?" + +"No, sir! I mean you won't join the party." + +"You mistake, sir. I will certainly do so, if you wish it," said +Thurston, gravely. + +"Humph! Well, that is something better than I expected. You can take the +new gig, you know, and take Melchisedek to drive you, and to bring it +back." + +"Just as you say, sir," said the young gentleman, with filial +compliance. + +"And mind, take care that you are not led into any waste of money." + +"I shall take care, sir." + +And here Thurston's heart was gladdened within him. He profoundly +thanked his stars. The new gig! What an opportunity to save Marian the +fatigue of an equestrian journey--offer her an easy seat, and have the +blessing of her near companionship for the whole trip! While his +servant, Melchisedek, could ride Marian's pony. And this arrangement +would be so natural, so necessary, so inevitable, that not even the +jealous, suspicious miser could make the least question of its perfect +propriety. For, under the circumstances, what gentleman could leave a +lady of his party to travel wearily on horseback, while himself and his +servant rode cosily at ease in a gig? What gentleman would not rather +give the lady his seat in the gig--take the reins himself and drive her, +while his servant took her saddle-horse. So thought Thurston. Yet he did +not hint the subject to his grandfather--the method of their traveling +should seem the impromptu effect of chance. The next morning being +Sunday, he threw himself in Marian's path, waited for her, and rode with +her a part of the way to church. And while they were in company, he told +her of the new arrangement in the manner of traveling, that good fortune +had enabled him to make--that if she would so honor and delight him, he +should have her in the gig by his side for the whole journey. He was so +happy, so very happy in the thought, he said. + +"And so am I, dearest Thurston! very, very happy in the idea of being +with you. Thank God!" said the warm-hearted girl, offering her hand, +which he took and covered with kisses. + +Thurston's good fortune was not over. His star was still in the +ascendant, for after the morning service, while the congregation were +leaving the church, he saw Mrs. Waugh beckon him to her side. He quickly +obeyed the summons. And then, the lady said: + +"I may not see you again soon, Thurston, and, therefore, I tell you +now--that if you intend to join our party to Washington, you must make +all your arrangements to come ever to Locust Hill on Tuesday evening, +and spend the night with us; as we start at a very early hour on +Wednesday morning, and should not like to be kept waiting. My Hebe is +also coming on Tuesday evening, to stay all night. Now, not a word, +Thurston, I know what dilatory folks young people are. And I know very +well that if I don't make sure of you on Tuesday evening, you will keep +us a full hour beyond our time on Wednesday morning--you know you will." + +Thurston was secretly delighted. To spend the evening with Marian! to +spend the night under the same roof with her--preparatory to their +social journey in the morning. Thurston began to think that he was born +under a lucky planet. He laughingly assured Mrs. Waugh that he had not +the slightest intention or wish to dispute her commands, and that on +Tuesday evening he should present himself punctually at the supper-table +at Locust Hill. He further informed her that as his grandfather had most +arbitrarily forced upon him the use of his new gig, he should bring it, +and offer Miss Mayfield a seat. + +It was now Mrs. Waugh's turn to be delighted, and to declare that she +was very glad--that it would be so much easier and pleasanter to her +Hebe, than the cold, exposed, and fatiguing equestrian manner of +traveling. "But mind, young gentleman, you are not to make love to my +Hebe! for we all think her far too good for mortal man!" laughed Mrs. +Waugh. + +Thurston gravely promised that he would not--if he could help it. And +so, with mutual good feeling, they shook hands and separated. + +On Monday evening, at his farewell lecture, Thurston met Marian again, +and joyfully announced to her the invitation that Mrs. Waugh had +extended to him. And the maiden's delightful smile assured him of her +full sympathy with his gladness. + +And on Tuesday evening, the whole party for Washington was assembled +around the tea-table at Locust Hill. The evening passed very cheerily. +The commodore, Mrs. Waugh, Marian and Thurston, were all in excellent +spirits. And Thurston, out of pure good nature, sought to cheer and +enliven the pretty, peevish bride, Jacquelina, who, out of caprice, +affected a pleasure in his attentions that she was very far from +feeling. This gave so much umbrage to Dr. Grimshaw that Mrs. Waugh +really feared some unpleasant demonstration from the grim bridegroom, +and seized the first quiet opportunity of saying to the young gentleman: + +"Do, Thurston, leave Lapwing alone! Don't you see that that maniac is as +jealous as a Turk?" + +"Oh! he is!" thought Thurston, benevolently. "Very well! in that case +his jealousy shall not starve for want of ailment;" and he devoted +himself to the capricious bride with more _impressement_ than +before--consoling himself for his discreet neglect of Marian by +reflecting on the blessed morrow that should place her at his side for +the whole day. + +And so the evening passed; and at an early hour the party separated to +get a good long night's rest, preparatory to their early start in the +morning. + +But Thurston, for one, was too happy to sleep for some time; too happy +in the novel blessedness of resting under the same roof with his own +beautiful and dearest Marian. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE BRIDE OF AN HOUR. + + +It was a clear, cold, sharp, invigorating winter morning. The snow was +crusted over with hoar frost, and the bare forest trees were hung with +icicles. The cunning fox, the 'possum and the 'coon, crept shivering +from their dens; but the shy, gray rabbit, and the tiny, brown +wood-mouse, still nestled in their holes. And none of nature's small +children ventured from their nests, save the hardy and courageous little +snow-birds that came to seek their food even at the very threshold of +their natural enemy--man. + +The approaching sun had scarcely as yet reddened the eastern horizon, or +flushed the snow, when at Locust Hill our travelers assembled in the +dining-room, to partake of their last meal previous to setting forth. + +Commodore Waugh, and Mrs. L'Oiseau, who were fated to remain at home and +keep house, were also there to see the travelers off. + +The fine, vitalizing air of the winter morning, the cheerful bustle +preparatory to their departure, the novelty of the breakfast eaten by +candle-light, all combined to raise and exhilarate the spirits of the +party. + +After the merry, hasty meal was over, Mrs. Waugh, in her voluminous +cloth cloak, fur tippet, muff, and wadded hood; Jacquelina, enveloped in +several fine, soft shawls, and wearing a warm, chinchilla bonnet; and +Dr. Grimshaw, in his dreadnaught overcoat and cloak, and long-eared fur +cap, all entered the large family carriage, where, with the additional +provision of foot-stoves and hot bricks, they had every prospect of a +comfortable mode of conveyance. + +Old Oliver, in his many-caped drab overcoat, and fox-skin cap and +gloves, sat upon the coachman's box with the proud air of a king upon +his throne. And why not? It was Oliver's very first visit to the city, +and the suit of clothes he wore was brand new! + +Thurston's new gig was furnished with two fine buffalo robes--one laid +down on the seats and the floor as a carpet, and the other laid over as +a coverlet. His forethought had also provided a foot-stove for Marian. +And never was a happier man than he when he handed his smiling companion +into the gig, settled her comfortably in her seat, placed the foot-stove +under her feet, sprang in and seated himself beside her, tucked the +buffalo robe carefully in, and took the reins, and waited the signal to +move on. + +Melchisedek, or as he was commonly called, Cheesy, mounted upon Marian's +pony, rode on in advance, to open the gates for the party. Mrs. Waugh's +carriage followed. And Thurston's gig brought up the rear. And thus the +travelers set forth. + +The sun had now risen in cloudless splendor, and was striking long lines +of crimson light across the snow, and piercing through the forest +aisles. Flocks of saucy little snow-birds alighted fearlessly in their +path; but the cunning little gray rabbits just peeped with their round, +bright eyes, and then quickly hopped away. + +I need not describe their merry journey at length. My readers will +readily imagine how delightful was the trip to at least two of the +party. And those two were not Dr. Grimshaw and Jacquelina. + +Thurston pleaded so hard for a private marriage when they got to +Washington that at last Marian consented. + +So one day they drove out to the Navy Yard Hill, and there in the +remotest and quietest suburb of the city, in a little Methodist chapel, +without witnesses, Thurston and Marian were married. + +Thurston and Marian found an opportunity to be alone in the drawing-room +for the few moments preceding his departure. In those last moments she +could not find it in her heart to withhold one word whose utterance +would cheer his soul, and give him hope and joy and confidence in +departing. Marian had naturally a fine, healthful, high-toned +organization--a happy, hopeful, joyous temperament, an inclination +always to look upon the sunny side of life and events. And so, when he +drew her gently and tenderly to his bosom, and whispered: + +"You have made me the happiest and most grateful man on earth, dear, +lovely Marian! dear, lovely wife! but are you satisfied, beloved--oh! +are you satisfied? Do I leave you at ease?" + +She spoke the very truth when she confessed to him--her head being on +his shoulder, and her low tones flowing softly to his listening ear: + +"More than satisfied, Thurston--more than satisfied, I am inexpressibly +happy now. Yes, though you are going away; for, see! the pain of parting +for a few months, is lost in the joy of knowing that we are united, +though separated--and in anticipating the time not long hence, when we +shall meet again. God bless you, dearest Thurston." + +"God forever bless and love you, sweet wife." And so they parted. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +SPRING AND LOVE. + + +It was late in February before the party reached home. Thurston's +business finished he also hastened back and sought out Marian. One +memorable episode must be related. Thurston had met Marian not many +yards down the lonely forest foot-path, leading from the village school +to Old Fields one evening. + +After a walk of about a quarter of a mile through the bushes they +descended by the natural staircase of moss-covered rocks, and sat down +together upon a bed of violets at its foot. + +Before them, through the canopy of over-arching trees, was seen, like a +picture in its frame of foliage, a fine view of the open country and the +bay now bathed in purple haze of evening. + +But the fairest prospect that ever opened had no more attraction for +Thurston than if it had been a view of chimney tops from a back attic +window. He passed his right hand around Marian's shoulders, and drew her +closer to his side, and with the other hand began to untie her bonnet +strings. + +"Lay off this little bonnet. Let me see your beauteous head uncovered. +There!" he said, putting it aside, and smoothing her bright locks. "Oh, +Marian! my love! my queen! when I see only the top of your head, I think +your rippling, sunny tresses your chief beauty; but soon my eyes fall to +the blooming cheek--there never was such a cheek--so vivid, yet so +delicate, so glowing, yet so cool and fresh--like the damask rose bathed +in morning dew--so when I gaze on it I think the blushing cheek your +sweetest charm--ah! but near by breathe the rich, ripe lips, fragrant as +nectarines; and which I should swear to be the very buds of love, were +not my gaze caught up to meet your eyes--stars!--and then I know that I +have found the very soul of beauty! Oh! priceless pearl! By what rare +fortune was it that I ever found you in these Maryland woods? Love! +Angel! Marian! for that means all!" he exclaimed, in a sort of ecstasy, +straining her to his side. + +And Marian dropped her blushing face upon his shoulder--she was blushing +not from bashful love alone--with it mingled a feeling of shame, regret, +and mistrust, because he praised so much her form and face; because he +seemed to love her only for her superficial good looks. She would have +spoken if she could have done so; she would have told what was on her +heart as earnest as a prayer by saying: + +"Oh, do not think so much of this perishable, outward beauty; accident +may ruin it, sickness may injure it, time will certainly impair it. Do +not love me for that which I have no power over, and which may be taken +from me at any time--which I shall be sure to lose at last--love me for +something better and more lasting than that. I have a heart in this +bosom worth all the rest, a heart that in itself is an inner world--a +kingdom worthy of your rule--a heart that neither time, fortune, nor +casualty can ever change--a heart that loves you now in your strong and +beautiful youth, and will love you when you are old and gray, and when +you are one of the redeemed of heaven. Love me for this heart." + +But to have saved her own soul or his, Marian could not then have spoken +those words. + +So he continued to caress her--every moment growing more and more +enchanted with her loveliness. There was more of passion than affection +in his manner, and Marian felt and regretted this, though her feeling +was not a very clearly defined one--it was rather an instinct than a +thought, and it was latent, and quite subservient to her love for him. + +"Love! angel! how enchanting you are," he exclaimed, catching her in his +arms and pressing kisses on her cheek and lips and neck. + +Glowing with color, Marian strove to release herself. "Let me go--let us +leave this place, dear Thurston," she pleaded, attempting to rise. + +"Why? Why are you in such a hurry? Why do you wish to leave me?" he +asked, without releasing his hold. + +"It is late! Dear Thurston, it is late," she said, in vague alarm. + +"That does not matter--I am with you." + +"They will be anxious about me, pray let us go! They will be so +anxious!" she said, with increasing distress, trying to get away. +"Thurston! Thurston! You distress me beyond measure," she exclaimed in +great trouble. + +But he stopped her breath with kisses. + +Marian suddenly ceased to struggle, and by a strong effort of will she +became perfectly calm. And looking in his eyes, with her clear, steady +gaze, she said: + +"Thurston, I have ceased to strive. But if you are a man of honor, you +will release me." + +His arms dropped from around her as if he had been struck dead. + +Glad to be free, Marian arose to depart. Thurston sat still--his fine +countenance overclouded with mortification and anger. Marian hesitated; +she knew not how to proceed. He did not offer to rise and attend her. At +length she spoke. + +"Will you see me safely through the woods, Thurston?" + +He did not answer. + +"Thurston, it is nearly dark--there are several runaway negroes in the +forest now, and the road will not be safe for me." + +"Good-night, then," she said. + +"Good-night, Marian." + +She turned away and ascended the steps with her heart filled nearly to +bursting with grief, indignation and fear. That he should let her take +that long, dark, dangerous walk alone! it was incredible! she could +scarcely realize it, or believe it! Her unusually excited feelings lent +wings to her feet, and she walked swiftly for about a quarter of a mile, +and then was forced to pause and take breath. And then every feeling of +indignation and fear was lost in that of sorrow, that she had wounded +his feelings, and left him in anger. And Marian dropped her face into +her open hands and wept. A step breaking through the brushwood made her +start and tremble. She raised her head with the attitude of one prepared +for a spring and flight. It was so dark she could scarcely see her hands +before her, but as the step approached, a voice said: + +"Fear nothing, Marian, I have not lost sight of you since you left me," +and Thurston came up to her side. + +With a glad smile of surprise Marian turned to greet him, holding out +her hand, expecting him to draw it through his arm and lead her on. But +no, he would not touch her hand. Lifting his hat slightly, he said: + +"Go forward if you please to do so, Marian. I attend you." + +Marian went on, and he followed closely. They proceeded in silence for +some time. Now that she knew that he had not left her a moment alone in +the woods, she felt more deeply grieved at having so mortified and +offended him. At last she spoke: + +"Pray, do not be angry with me, dear Thurston." + +"I am not angry that I know of, fair one; and you do me too much honor +to care about my mood. Understand me once for all. I am not a Dr. +Grimshaw, in any phase of that gentleman's character. I am neither the +tyrant who will persecute you to exact your attention, nor yet the slave +who will follow and coax and whine and wheedle for your favor. In either +character I should despise myself too much," he answered, coolly. + +"Thurston, you are deeply displeased, or you would not speak so, and I +am very, very sorry," said Marian in a tremulous voice. + +"Do not distress yourself about me, fair saint! I shall trouble you no +more after this evening!" + +What did he mean? What could Thurston mean? Trouble her no more after +this evening! She did not understand the words, but they went through +her bosom like a sword. She did not reply--she could not. She wished to +say: + +"Oh, Thurston, if you could read my heart--how singly it is devoted to +you--how its thoughts by day, and dreams by night are filled with +histories and images of what I would be, and do or suffer for you--of +how faithfully I mean to love and serve you in all our coming years--you +would not mistake me, and get angry, because you would know my heart." +But these words Marian could not have uttered had her life depended on +it. + +"Go on, Marian, the moor is no safer than the forest; I shall attend you +across it." + +And they went on until the light from Old Field Cottage was visible. +Then Marian said: + +"You had better leave me now. They are sitting up and watching for me." + +"No! go on, the night is very dark. I must see you to the gate." + +They walked rapidly, and just as they approached the house Marian saw a +little figure wandering about on the moor, and which suddenly sprang +toward her with an articulate cry of joy! It was Miriam, who threw +herself upon Marian with such earnestness of welcome that she did not +notice Thurston, who now raised his hat slightly from his head, with a +slight nod, and walked rapidly away. + +"Here she is, mother! Oh! here she is!" cried Miriam, pulling at +Marian's dress and drawing her in the house. + +"Oh! Marian, how anxious you have made us! Where have you been?" asked +Edith, in a tone half of love, half of vexation. + +"I have been detained," said Marian, in a low voice. + +The cottage room was very inviting. The evening was just chilly enough +to make the bright little wood fire agreeable. On the clean hearth +before it sat the tea-pot and a covered plate of toast waiting for +Marian. And old Jenny got up and sat out a little stand, covered it with +a white napkin, and put the tea and toast, with the addition of a piece +of cold chicken and a saucer of preserves, upon it. And Marian laid off +her straw bonnet and muslin scarf and sat down and tried to eat, for +affectionate eyes had already noticed the trouble of her countenance, +and were watching her now with anxiety. + +"You do not seem to have an appetite, dear; what is the matter?" asked +Edith. + +"I am not very well," said Marian, rising and leaving the table, and +refraining with difficulty from bursting into tears. + +"It's dat ar cussed infunnelly party at Lockemup--last Toosday!" said +Jenny, as she cleared away the tea service--"a-screwin' up tight in +cusseds an' ball-dresses! an' a-dancing all night till broad daylight! +'sides heavin' of ever so much unwholesome 'fectionery trash down her +t'roat--de constitution ob de United States hisself couldn't stan' sich! +much less a delicy young gall! I 'vises ov you, honey, to go to bed." + +"Indeed, Marian, it was too much for you to lose your rest all night, +and then have to get up early to go to school. You should have had a +good sleep this morning. And then to be detained so late this evening. +Did you have to keep any of the girls in, or was it a visit from the +trustees that detained you?" + +"Neither," said Marian, nervously, "but I think I must take Jenny's +advice and go to bed." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THAT NIGHT. + + +From that miserable night, Marian saw no more of Thurston, except +occasionally at church, when he came at irregular intervals, and +maintained the same coolness and distance of manner toward her, and with +matchless self-command, too, since often his heart yearned toward her +with almost irresistible force. + +Cold and calm as was his exterior, he was suffering not less than +Marian; self-tossed with passion, the strong currents and +counter-currents of his soul whirled as a moral maelstrom, in which +both reason and conscience threatened to be engulfed. + +And in these mental conflicts judgment and understanding were often +obscured and bewildered, and the very boundaries of right and wrong +lost. + +His appreciation of Marian wavered with his moods. + +When very angry he would mentally denounce her as a cold, prudent, +calculating woman, who had entrapped him into a secret marriage, and +having secured his hand, would now risk nothing for his love, and +himself as a weak, fond fool, the tool of the beautiful, proud diplomat, +whom it would be justifiable to circumvent, to defeat, and to humble in +some way. + +At such times he felt a desire, amounting to a strong temptation, to +abduct her--to get her into his power, and make her feel that power. No +law could protect her or punish him--for they were married. + +But here was the extreme point at which reaction generally commenced, +for Thurston could not contemplate himself in that character--playing +such a part, for an instant. + +And then when a furtive glance would show him Marian's angel face, +fairer and paler and more pensive than ever before--a strong +counter-current of love and admiration approaching to worship, would set +in, and he would look upon her as a fair saint worthy of translation to +heaven, and upon himself as a designing but foiled conspirator, scarcely +one degree above the most atrocious villain. "Currents and +counter-currents" of stormy passion, where is the pilot that shall guide +the understanding safely through them? It is no wonder, that once in a +while, a mind is wrecked. + +Marian, sitting in her pew, saw nothing in his face or manner to +indicate that inward storm. She only saw the sullen, freezing exterior. +Even in his softened moods of penitence, Thurston dared not seek her +society. + +For Marian had begun to recover from the first abject prostration of her +sorrow, and her fair, resolute brow and sad, firm lips mutely assured +him that she never would consent to be his own until their marriage +could be proclaimed. + +And he durst not trust himself in her tempting presence, lest there +should be a renewal of those humiliating scenes he had endured. + +Thus passing a greater portion of the summer; during which Thurston +gradually dropped off from the church, and from all other haunts where +he was likely to encounter Marian, and as gradually began to frequent +the Catholic chapel, and to visit Luckenough, and to throw himself as +much as possible into the distracting company of the pretty elf +Jacquelina. But this--while it threw Dr. Grimshaw almost into frenzy, +did not help Thurston to forget the good and beautiful Marian. Indeed, +by contrast, it seemed to make her more excellent and lovely. + +And thus, while Jacquelina fancied she had a new admirer, Dr. Grimshaw +feared that he had a new rival, and the holy fathers hoped they had a +new convert--Thurston laughed at the vanity of the elf, the jealousy of +the Ogre, and the gullibility of the priests--and sought only escape +from the haunting memory of Marian, and found it not. And finally, bored +and ennuied beyond endurance, he cast about for a plan by which to +hasten his union with Marian. Perhaps it was only that neighborhood she +was afraid of, he thought--perhaps in some other place she would be less +scrupulous. Satan had no sooner whispered this thought to Thurston's ear +than he conceived the design of spending the ensuing autumn in Paris--and +of making Marian his companion while there. Fired with this new idea and +this new hope, he sat down and wrote her a few lines--without address or +signature--as follows: + +"Dearest, forgive all the past. I was mad and blind. I have a plan to +secure at once our happiness. Meet me in the Mossy dell this evening, +and let me explain it at your feet." + +Having written this note, Thurston scarcely knew how to get it at once +into Marian's hands. To put it into the village post-office was to +expose it to the prying eyes of Miss Nancy Skamp. To send it to Old +Fields, by a messenger, was still more hazardous. To slip it into +Marian's own hand, he would have to wait the whole week until +Sunday--and then might not be able to do so unobserved. + +Finally, after much thought, he determined, without admitting the elf +into his full confidence, to entrust the delivery of the note to +Jacquelina. + +He therefore copied it into the smallest space, rolled it up tightly, +and took it with him when he went to Luckenough. + +He spent the whole afternoon at the mansion house, without having an +opportunity to slip it into the hands of Jacquelina. + +It is true that Mrs. Waugh was not present, that good woman being in the +back parlor, sitting at one end of the sofa and making a pillow of her +lap for the commodore's head, which she combed soporifically, while, +stretched at full length, he took his afternoon nap. But Mary L'Oiseau +was there, quietly knotting a toilet cover, and Professor Grimshaw was +there, scowling behind a book that he was pretending to read, and losing +no word or look or tone or gesture of Thurston or Jacquelina, who talked +and laughed and flirted and jested, as if there was no one else in the +world but themselves. + +At last a little negro appeared at the door to summon Mrs. L'Oiseau to +give out supper, and Mary arose and left the room. + +The professor scowled at Jacquelina from the top of his book for a +little while, and then, muttering an excuse, got up and went out and +left them alone together. + +That was a very common trick of the doctor's lately, and no one could +imagine why he did it. + +"It is a ruse, a trap, the grim idiot! to see what we will say to each +other behind his back. Oh, I'd dose him! I just wish Thurston would kiss +me! I do so!" thought Jacquelina. "Thurston," and the elf leaned toward +her companion, and began to be as bewitching as she knew how. + +But Thurston was not thinking of Jacquelina's mischief, though without +intending it he played directly into her hands. + +Rising he took his hat, and saying that his witching little cousin had +beguiled him into breaking one engagement already, advanced to take +leave of her. + +"Jacquelina." he said, lowering his voice, and slipping the note for +Marian into her hand, "may I ask you to deliver this to Miss Mayfield, +when no one is by?" + +A look of surprise and perplexity, followed by a nod of intelligence, +was her answer. + +And Thurston, with a grateful smile, raised her hand to his lips, took +leave and departed. + +"I wonder what it is all about? I could easily untwist and seal it, but +I would not do so for a kingdom!" said Jacko to herself as she turned +the tiny note about in her fingers. + +"Hand me that note, madam!" said Dr. Grimshaw, in curt and husky tones, +as, with stern brow, he stood before her. + +"No, sir! it was not intended for you," she said, mockingly. + +"By the demons, I know that! Hand it here!" + +"Don't swear nor get angry! Both are unbecoming professor!" said the +elf, with mocking gravity. + +"Perdition! will you give it up?" stamped the doctor, in fury. + +"'Perdition,' no;" mocked the fairy. + +"Hand it here, I command you, madam!" cried the professor, trying to +compose himself and recover his dignity. + +"Command away--I like to hear you. Command a regiment, if you like!" +said the elf. + +"Give it up!" thundered the professor, losing his slight hold upon +self-control. + +"Couldn't do it, sir," said Jacko, gravely. + +"It is an appointment, you impudent ----! Hand it here." + +"Not as you know of!" laughed Jacko, tauntingly shaking it over her +head. + +He made a rush to catch it. + +She sprang nimbly away, and clapped the paper into her mouth. + +He overtook and caught her by the arm, and shaking her roughly, +exclaimed, under his breath: + +"Where is it? What have you done with it? You exasperating, unprincipled +little wretch, where is it?" + +"'Echo anfers fere?'" mumbled the imp, chewing up the paper, and keeping +her lips tight. + +"Give it me! give it me! or I'll be the death of you, you diabolical +little ----!" he exclaimed, hoarsely, shaking her as if he would have +shaken her breath out. + +But Jacko had finished chewing up the paper, and she swallowed the pulp +with an effort that nearly choked her, and then opening her mouth, and +inflating her chest, gave voice in a succession of piercing shrieks, +that brought the whole family rushing into the room, and obliged the +professor to relax his hold, and stand like a detected culprit. + +For there was the commodore roused up from his sleep, with his gray hair +and beard standing out all ways, like the picture of the sun in an +almanac. And there was Mrs. Waugh, with the great-tooth comb in her +hand. And Mary L'Osieau, with the pantry keys. And the maid, Maria, with +the wooden tray of flour on her head. And Festus, with a bag of meal in +his hands. And all with their eyes and ears and mouths agape with +amazement and inquiry. + +"In the fiend's name, what's the matter? What the d----l's broke loose? +Is the house on fire again?" vociferated the commodore, seeing that no +one else spoke; "what's all this about, Nace Grimshaw?" + +"Ask your pretty niece, sir!" said the professor, sternly, turning away. + +"Oh, it's you, is it, you little termagant you? Oh, you're a +honey-cooler. What have you been doing now, Imp?" cried the old man, +turning fiercely to Jacquelina. "Answer me, you little vixen!--what does +all this mean?" + +"Better ask 'the gentlemanly professor' why he seized and nearly shook +the head off my shoulders and the breath out of my bosom!" said +Jacquelina, half-crying, half-laughing. + +The commodore turned furiously toward Grim. Shaking a woman's head off +her shoulders, and breath out of her body, in his house, did not suit +his ideas of gallantry at all, rough as he was. + +"By heaven! are you mad, sir? What have you been doing? I never laid the +weight of my hand on Jacquelina in all my life, wild as she has driven +me at times. Explain your brutality, sir." + +"It was to force from her hand a paper which she has swallowed," said +Dr. Grimshaw, with stern coldness regarding the group. + +"Swallowed! swallowed!" shrieked Mrs. Waugh, rushing toward Jacquelina, +and seizing one of her arms, and gazing in her face, thinking only of +poisons and of Jacko's frequent threats of suicide. "Swallowed! +swallowed! Where did she get it? Who procured it for her? What was it? +Oh, run for the doctor, somebody. What are you all standing like you +were thunderstruck for? Dr. Grimshaw, start a boy on horseback +immediately for a physician. Tell him to tell the doctor to bring a +stomach pump with him. You had better go yourself. Oh, hasten; not a +single moment is to be lost. Jacquelina, my dear, do you begin to feel +sick? Do you feel a burning in your throat and stomach? Oh, my dear +child! how came you to do such a rash act?" + +Jacko broke into a loud laugh. + +"Oh! crazy! crazy! it is something that affects her brain she has taken. +Oh! Dr. Grimshaw, how can you have the heart to stand there and not go? +Probably opium." + +Jacko laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks--never, since her +marriage, had Jacko laughed so much. + +"Oh, Dr. Grimshaw! Don't you see she is getting worse and worse. How can +you have the heart to stand there and not go for a physician?" said Mrs. +Waugh, while Mary L'Oiseau looked on, mute with terror, and the +commodore stood with his fat eyes protruding nearly to bursting. + +"Go, oh, go, Dr. Grimshaw!" insisted Mrs. Waugh. + +"I assure you it is not necessary, madam," said the professor, with +stern scorn. + +"There is no danger, aunty. I haven't taken any poison since I took a +dose of Grim before the altar!" said Jacko, through her tears and +laughter. + +"What have you taken, then, unfortunate child?" + +"I have swallowed an assignation," said the elf, as grave as a judge. + +"A what?" exclaimed all, in a breath, + +"An assignation," repeated Jacko, with owl-like calmness and solemnity. + +"What in the name of common sense do you mean, my dear?" inquired Mrs. +Waugh, while the commodore and Mary L'Oiseau looked the astonishment +they did not speak. "Pray explain yourself, my love." + +"He--says--I--swallowed--an--assignation--whole!" repeated Jacquelina, +with distinct emphasis. Her auditors looked from one to another in +perplexity. + +"I see that I shall have to explain the disagreeable affair," said the +professor, coming forward, and addressing himself to the commodore. "Mr. +Thurston Willcoxen was here this afternoon on a visit to your niece, +sir. In taking leave he slipped into her hand a small note, which, when +I demanded, she refused to let me see." + +"And very properly, too. What right had you to make such a 'demand?'" +said Mrs. Waugh, indignantly. + +"I was not addressing my remarks to you, madam," retorted the professor. + +"That will not keep me from making a running commentary upon them, +however," responded the lady. + +"Hold your tongue, Henrietta. Go on, Nace. I swear you are enough to +drive a peaceable man mad between you," said the commodore, bringing his +stick down emphatically. "Well what next?" + +"On my attempting to take it from her she put it in her mouth and +swallowed it." + +"Yes! and then he seized me and shook me, as if I had been a +fine-bearing little plum tree in harvest time." + +"And served you right, I begin to think, you little limb, you. What was +it you had, you little hussy?" + +"An assignation, he says, and he ought to know--being a professor." + +"Don't mock us, Minx! Tell us instantly what were the contents of that +note?" + +"As if I would tell you even if I could. But I couldn't tell you even if +I would. Haven't the least idea what sort of a note it was, from a note +of music to a 'note of hand,' because I had to swallow it as I swallowed +the Ogre at the church--without looking at it. And it is just as +indigestible! I feel it like a bullet in my throat yet!" And that was +all the satisfaction they could get out of Jacko. + +"I should not wonder if you had been making a fool of yourself, Nace," +said the commodore, who seemed inclined to blow up both parties. + +"I hope, sir," said the professor, with great assumption of dignity, +"that you now see the necessity of forbidding that impertinent young +coxcomb the house." + +"Shall do nothing of the sort, Grim. Thurston has no more idea of +falling in love with little Jacko than he has with her mother or +Henrietta, not a bit more." And then the commodore happening to turn his +attention to the two gaping negroes, with a flourish of his stick sent +them about their business, and left the room. + +The next evening Thurston repaired to the mossy dell in the expectation +of seeing Marian, who, of course, did not make her appearance. + +The morning after, filled with disappointment and mortifying conjecture +as to the cause of her non-appearance, Thurston presented himself before +Jacquelina at Luckenough. He happened to find her alone. With all her +playfulness of character, the poor fairy had too much self-respect to +relate the scene to which she had been exposed the day before. So she +contented herself with saying: + +"I found no opportunity of delivering your note, Thurston, and so I +thought it best to destroy it." + +"I thank you. Under the circumstances that was best," replied the young +man, much relieved. When he reached home, he sat down and wrote a long +and eloquent epistle, imploring Marian's forgiveness for his rashness +and folly, assuring her of his continued love and admiration; speaking +of the impossibility of living longer without her society--informing her +of his intention to go to Paris, and proposing that she should either +precede or follow him thither, and join him in that city. It was her +duty, he urged, to follow her husband. + +The following Sunday, after church, Marian placed her answer in his +hands. The letter was characteristic of her--clear, firm, frank and +truthful. It concluded thus: + +"Were I to do as you desire me--leave home clandestinely, precede or +follow you to Paris and join you there, suspicion and calumny would +pursue me--obloquy would rest upon my memory. All these things I could +bear, were it necessary in a good cause; but here it is not necessary, +and would be wrong. But I speak not of myself--I ought not, indeed, to +do so--nor of Edith, whose head would be bowed in humiliation and +sorrow--nor of little Miriam, whose passionate heart would be half +broken by such a desertion. But I speak for the cause of morality and +religion here in this neighborhood, where we find ourselves placed by +heaven, and where we must exercise much influence for good or evil. Wait +patiently for those happy years, that the flying days are speeding on +toward us--those happy years, when you shall look back to this trying +time, and thank God for trials and temptations passed safely through. Do +not urge me again upon this subject. Be excellent, Thurston, be noble, +be god-like, as you can be, if you will; it is in you. Be true to your +highest ideal, and you will be all these. Oh! if you knew how your +Marian's heart craves to bow itself before true god-like excellence!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE INTERCEPTED LETTER. + + +"No! The mail isn't come yet! leastways it isn't opened yet! Fan that +fire, you little black imp, you! and make that kittle bile; if you +don't, I shall never git this wafer soft! and then I'll turn you up, and +give you sich a switching as ye never had in your born days! for I won't +be trampled on by you any longer! you little black willyan, you! 'Scat! +you hussy! get out o' my way, before I twist your neck for you!" + +The first part of this oration was delivered by Miss Nancy Skamp, to +some half-dozen negro grooms who were cooling their shins while waiting +for the mail, before she closed the doors and windows of the +post-office; the second part was addressed to Chizzle, her little negro +waiter--and the third concluding sentence, emphasized by a smart kick, +was bestowed upon poor Molly, the mottled cat. The village post-office +was kept in the lower front room of the little lonely house on the hill, +occupied by the solitary spinster. + +The mail-bags were stuffed remarkably full, and there were several +wonderful letters, that she felt it her duty to open and read before +sending to their owners. + +"Let's see," said the worthy postmistress, as she sorted the letters in +her hand. "What's this? oh! a double letter for Colonel Thornton--pshaw! +that's all about political stuff! Who cares about reading that? I don't! +He may have it to-night if he wants it! Stop! what's this? Lors! it's a +thribble letter for--for Marian Mayfield! And from furrin parts, too! +Now I wonder--(Can't you stop that caterwauling out there?" she said, +raising her voice. "Sposen you niggers were to wait till I open the +office. I reckon you'd get your letters just as soon.) Who can be +writing from furrin parts to Marian Mayfield? Ah! I'll keep this and +read it before Miss Marian gets it." + +When Miss Nancy had closed up for the night she took out the letter +directed to Marian, opened, and began to read it. And as she read her +eyes and mouth grew wider and wider with astonishment, and her wonder +broke forth in frequent exclamations of: "M--y conscience! Well now! +Who'd a dreamt of it! Pity but I'd a let Solomon court her when he +wanted to--but Lors! how did I ever know that she'd--M--y conscience!" +etc., etc. + +Her fit of abstraction was at last broken by a smart rap at the door. + +She started and turned pale, like the guilty creature that she was. + +The rap was repeated sharply. + +She jumped up, hustled the purloined letters and papers out of sight, +and stood waiting. + +The rap was reiterated loudly and authoritatively. + +"Who's that?" she asked, trembling violently. + +"It's me, Aunt Nancy! Do for goodness' sake don't keep a fellow out here +in the storm till he's nearly perished. It's coming on to hail and snow +like the last judgment!" + +"Oh! it's you, is it, Sol? I didn't know but what it was--Do, for +mercy's sake don't be talking about the last judgment, and such awful +things--I declare to man, you put me all of a trimble," said Miss Nancy, +by way of accounting for her palpitations, as she unbarred the door, and +admitted her learned nephew. Dr. Solomon Weismann seemed dreadfully +downhearted as he entered. He slowly stamped the snow from his boots, +shook it off his clothes, took off his hat and his overcoat, and hung +them up, and spoke--never a word! Then he drew his chair right up in +front of the fire, placed a foot on each andiron, stooped over, spread +his palms over the kindly blaze, and still spoke--never a word! + +"Well! I'd like to know what's the matter with you to-night," said Miss +Nancy, as she went about the room looking for her knitting. + +But the doctor stared silently at the fire. + +"It's the latest improvement in politeness--I shouldn't wonder--not to +answer your elders when they speak to you." + +"Were you saying anything to me, Aunt Nancy?" + +"'Was I saying anything to you, Aunt Nancy?' Yes I was! I was asking you +what's the matter?" + +"Oh! I never was so dreadfully low-spirited in my life, Aunt Nancy." + +"And what should a young man like you have to make him feel +low-spirited, I should like to know? Moping about Marian, I shouldn't +wonder. The girl is a good girl enough, if she'd only mind her own +business, and not let people spoil her. And if you do like her, and must +have her, why I shan't make no further objections." + +Here the young doctor turned shortly around and stared at his aunt in +astonishment! + +"Hem!" said Miss Nancy, looking confused, "well, yes, I did oppose it +once, certainly, but that was because you were both poor." + +"And we are both poor still, for aught that I can see, and likely to +continue so." + +"Hish-ish! no you're not! leastways, she's not. I've got something very +strange to tell you," said Miss Nancy, mysteriously drawing her chair up +close to her nephew, and putting her lips to his ear, and +whispering--"Hish-ish!" + +"'Hish-ish!' What are you 'hish-ish'ing for, Aunt Nancy, I'm not saying +anything, and your breath spins into a fellow's ear enough to give him +an ear-ache!" said Dr. Solomon, jerking his head away. + +"Now then listen--Marian Mayfield has got a fortune left to her." + +Miss Nancy paused to see the effect of this startling piece of news upon +her companion. + +But the doctor was not sulky, and upon his guard; so after an +involuntary slight start, he remained perfectly still. Miss Nancy was +disappointed by the calm way in which he took this marvelous revelation. +However, she went on to say: + +"Yes! a fortune left her, by a grand-uncle, a bachelor, who died +intestate in Wiltshire, England. Now, what do you think of that!" + +"Why, I think if she wouldn't have me when she was poor, she won't be +apt to do it now she's rich." + +"Ah! but you see, she don't know a word of it!" + +"How do you know it, then?" + +"Hish-ish! I'll tell you if you will never tell. Oh, Lord, no, you +mustn't indeed! You wouldn't, I know, 'cause it would ruin us! Listen--" + +"Now, Aunt Nancy, don't be letting me into any of your capital crimes +and hanging secrets--don't, because I don't want to hear them, and I +won't neither! I ain't used to such! and I'm afraid of them, too!" + +"'Fraid o' what? Nobody can prove it," answered Miss Nancy, a little +incoherently. + +"You know what better than I do, Aunt Nancy; and let me tell you, you'd +better be careful. The eyes of the community are upon you." + +"Let 'em prove it! Let 'em prove it! They ain't got no witnesses! +Chizzle and the cat ain't no witnesses," said Miss Nancy, obscurely; +"let 'em do their worse! I reckon I know something about law as well as +they do! if I am a lone 'oman!" + +"They can procure your removal from office without proving anything +against you except unpopularity." + +"That's Commodore Waugh's plan! the ugly, wicked, old buggaboo! 'Tain't +such great shakes of an office neither, the dear knows!" + +"Never mind, Aunt Nancy, mend your ways, and maybe they'll not disturb +you. And don't tell me any of your capital secrets, because I might be +summoned as a witness against you, which would not be so agreeable to my +feelings--yon understand! And now tell me, if you are absolutely certain +that Miss Mayfield has had that fortune left her. But stop! don't tell +me how you found it out!" + +"Well, yes, I am certain--sure, she has a great fortune left her. I have +the positive proofs of it. And, moreover, nobody in this country don't +know it but myself--and you. And now I tell you, don't hint the matter +to a soul. Be spry! dress yourself up jam! and go a courting before +anybody else finds it out!" + +"But that would scarcely be honorable either," demurred the doctor. + +"You're mighty particular! Yes, it would, too! Jest you listen to me! +Now if so be we were to go and publish about Marian's fortune, we'd have +a whole herd of fortune hunters, who don't care a cent for anything but +fortune, running after and worrying the life out of her, and maybe one +of them marrying of her, and spending of her money, and bringing of her +to poverty, and breaking of her heart. Whereas, if we keep the secret of +the estate to ourselves, you, who desarve her, because you 'counted her +all the same when she was poor, and who'd take good care of her +property, and her, too--would have her all to yourself, and nobody to +interfere. Don't you see?" + +"Well, to be sure--when one looks at the thing in this light," +deliberated the sorely-tempted lover. + +"Of course! And that's the only light to look at it in! Don't you see? +Why, by gracious! it seems to me as if we were doing Marian the greatest +favor." + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +AS A LAST RESORT. + + +In the meantime Marian's heart was weighed down by a new cause of sorrow +and anxiety. Thurston never approached her now, either in person or by +letter. She never saw him, except at the church, the lecture-room, or in +mixed companies, where he kept himself aloof from her and devoted +himself to the beautiful and accomplished heiress Angelica Le Roy, to +whom rumor gave him as an accepted suitor. + +So free was Marian's pure heart from jealousy or suspicion that these +attentions bestowed by Thurston, and these rumors circulated in the +neighborhood, gave her no uneasiness. For though she had, for herself, +discovered him to be passionate and impetuous, she believed him to be +sound in principle. But when again and again she saw them together, at +church, at lecture, at dinner parties, at evening dances; when at all +the Christmas and New Year festivities she saw her escorted by him; when +she saw him ever at her side with a devotion as earnest and ardent as it +was perfectly respectful; when she saw him bend and whisper to the +witching girl and hang delighted on her "low replies," her own +confidence was shaken. What could he mean? Was it possible that instead +of being merely impulsive and erring, he was deliberately wicked? No, +no, never! Yet, what could be his intentions? Did he really wish to win +Angelica's heart? Alas! whether he wished so or not, it was but too +evident to all that he had gained her preference. In her blushing cheek +and downcast eyes, and tremulous voice and embarrassed manner, when he +was present, in her abstracted mind, and restless air of wandering +glances when he was absent, the truth was but too clear. + +Marian was far too practical to speculate when she should act. It was +clearly her duty to speak to Thurston on the subject, and, repugnant as +the task was, she resolved to perform it. It was some time before she +had the opportunity. + +But at last, one afternoon in February, she chanced to meet Thurston on +the sea beach. After greeting him, she candidly opened the subject. She +spoke gently and delicately, but firmly and plainly--more so, perhaps, +than another woman in the same position would have done, for Marian was +eminently frank and fearless, especially where conscience was concerned. + + +And Thurston met her arguments with a graceful nonchalance, as seemingly +polite and good-humored as it was really ironical and insulting. + +Marian gave him time--she was patient as firm--and firm as sorrowful. +And until every argument and persuasion had failed, she said: + +"As a last resort, it may be necessary for me to warn Miss Le Roy--not +for my own sake. Were I alone involved, you know how much I would endure +rather than grieve you. But this young lady must not suffer wrong." + +"You will write her an anonymous letter, possibly?" + +"No--I never take an indirect road to an object." + +"What, then, can you do, fair saint?" + +"See Miss Le Roy, personally." + +"Ha! ha! ha! What apology could you possibly make for such an +unwarrantable interference?" + +"The Lord knoweth! I do not now. But I trust to be able to save her +without--revealing you." + +"Do you imagine that vague warnings would have any effect upon her?" + +"Coming from me they would." + +"Heavens! What a self-worshiper! But selfishness is your normal state, +Marian! Self-love is your only affection--self-adulation your only +enthusiasm--self-worship your only religion! You do not desire to be +loved--you wish only to be honored! The love I offered you, you trampled +underfoot! You have no heart, you have only a brain! You cannot love, +you only think! Nor have you any need of love, but only of power! +Applause is your vital breath, your native air! To hear your name and +praise on every tongue--that is your highest ambition! Such a woman +should be a gorgon of ugliness that men might not waste their hearts' +wealth upon her!" exclaimed Thurston, bitterly, gazing with murky eyes, +that smoldered with suppressed passion, upon the beautiful girl before +him. + +Marian was standing with her eyes fixed abstractedly upon a distant +sail. Now the tears swelled under the large white eyelids and hung +glittering on the level lashes, and her lip quivered and her voice +faltered slightly as she answered: + +"You see me through a false medium, dear Thurston, but the time will +come when you will know me as I am." + +"I fancy the time has come. It has also come for me to enlighten you a +little. And in the first place, fair queen of minds, if not of hearts, +let me assure you that there is a limit even to your almost universal +influence. And that limit may be found in Miss Le Roy. You, who know the +power of thought only, cannot weigh nor measure the power of love. Upon +Miss Le Roy your warnings would have no effect whatever. I tell you that +in the face of them (were I so disposed), I might lead that girl to the +altar to-morrow." + +Marian was silent, not deeming an answer called for. + +"And now, I ask you, how you could prevent it?" + +"I shall not be required to prevent such an act, Thurston, as such a one +never can take place. You speak so only to try your Marian's faith or +temper--both are proof against jests, I think. Hitherto you have trifled +with the young lady's affections for mere _ennui_ and thoughtlessness, I +do believe! but, now that some of the evil consequences have been +suggested to your mind, you will abandon such perilous pastime. You are +going to France soon--that will be a favorable opportunity of breaking +off the acquaintance." + +"And breaking her heart--who knows? But suppose now that I should prefer +to marry her and take her with me?" + +"Nay, of course, I cannot for an instant suppose such a thing." + +"But in spite of all your warnings, were such an event about to take +place?" + +"In such an exigency I should divulge our marriage." + +"You would?" + +"Assuredly! How can you possibly doubt it? Such an event would abrogate +my obligations to silence, and would impose upon me the opposite duty of +speaking." + +"I judged you would reason so," he said, bitterly. + +"But, dear Thurston, of what are you talking? Of the event of your doing +an unprincipled act! Impossible, dear Thurston! and forever impossible!" + +"And equally impossible, fair saint, that you should divulge our +marriage with any chance of proving it. Marian, the minister that +married us has sailed as a missionary to Farther India. And I only have +the certificate of our marriage. You cannot prove it." + +"I shall not need to prove it, Thurston. Now that I have awakened your +thoughts, I know that you will not further risk the peace of that +confiding girl. Come! take my hand and let us return. We must hasten, +too, for there is rain in that cloud." + +Thurston--piqued that he could not trouble her more--for under her calm +and unruffled face he could not see the bleeding heart--arose sullenly, +drew her hand within his arm and led her forth. + +And as they went the wind arose, and the storm clouds drove over the sky +and lowered and darkened around them. + +Marian urged him to walk fast on account of the approaching tempest, and +the anxiety the family at the cottage would feel upon her account. + +They hurried onward, but just as they reached the neighborhood of Old +Fields a terrible storm of hail and snow burst upon the earth. + +It was as much as they could do to make any progress forward, or even to +keep themselves upon their feet. While struggling and plunging blindly +through the storm, amid the rushing of the wind and the rattling of the +hail, and the crackling and creaking of the dry trees in the forest, and +the rush of waters, and all the din of the tempest, Marian's ear caught +the sound of a child wailing and sobbing. A pang shot through her heart. +She listened breathlessly--and then in the pauses of the storm she heard +a child crying, "Marian, Marian! Oh! where are you, Marian?" + +It was Miriam's voice! It was Miriam wandering in night and storm in +search of her beloved nurse. + +Marian dropped Thurston's arm and plunged blindly forward through the +snow, in the direction of the voice, crying, "Here I am, my darling, my +treasure--here I am. What brought my baby out this bitter night?" she +asked, as she found the child half perishing with cold and wet, and +caught and strained her to her bosom. + +"Oh, the hail and snow came down so fast, and the wind shook the house +so hard, and I could not sleep in the warm bed while you were out in the +storm. So I stole softly down to find you. Don't go again, Marian. I +love you so--oh! I love you so!" + +At this moment the child caught sight of Thurston standing with his face +half muffled in his cloak. A figure to be strangely recognized under +similar circumstances in after years. Then she did not know him, but +inquired: + +"Who is that, Marian?" + +"A friend, dear, who came home with me. Good-night, sir." + +And so dismissing Thurston, he walked rapidly away. She hurried with +Miriam to the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +ONE OF SANS SOUCI'S TRICKS. + + +Sans Souci stood before the parlor mirror, gazing into it, seeing--not +the reflected image of her own elfish figure, or pretty, witching face, +with its round, polished forehead, its mocking eyes, its sunny, dancing +curls, its piquant little nose, or petulant little lips--but +contemplating, as through a magic glass, far down the vista of her +childhood--childhood scarcely past, yet in its strong contrast to the +present, seeming so distant, dim, and unreal, that her reminiscence of +its days resembled more a vague dream of a pre-existence, than a +rational recollection of a part of her actual life on earth. Poor Jacko +was wondering "If I be I?" + +Grim sat in a leathern chair, at the farthest extremity of the room, +occupied with holding a book, but reading Jacquelina. Suddenly he broke +into her brown study by exclaiming: + +"I should like to know what you are doing, and how long you intend to +remain standing before that glass." + +"Oh, indeed! should you?" mocked Jacko, startled out of her reverie, yet +instantly remembering to be provoking. + +"What were you doing, and--" + +"Looking at myself in the glass, to be sure." + +"Don't cut off my question, if you please. I was going on to inquire of +what you were thinking so profoundly. And madam, or miss--" + +"Madam, if you please! the dear knows, I paid heavy enough for my new +dignity, and don't intend to abate one degree of it. So if you call me +miss again, I'll get some one who loves me to call you 'out!' Besides, +I'd have you to know, I'm very proud of it. Ain't you, too? Say, Grim! +ain't you a proud and happy man to be married?" asked Jacko, tauntingly. + +"You jibe! You do so with a purpose. But it shall not avail you. I +demand to know the subject of your thoughts as you stood before that +mirror." + +Now, none but a half madman like Grim would have gravely made such a +demand, or exposed himself to such a rebuff as it deserved. Jacko looked +at him quizzically. + +"Hem!" she answered, demurely. "I'm sure I'm so awestricken, your +worship, that I can scarcely find the use of my tongue to obey your +reverence. I hope your excellency won't be offended with me. But I was +wondering in general, whether the Lord really did make all the people +upon earth, and in particular, whether He made you, and if so, for what +inscrutable reason He did it." + +"You are an impertinent minion. But, by the saints, I will have an +answer to my question, and know what you were thinking of while gazing +in that mirror." + +"Sorry the first explanation didn't please your eminence. But now, +'honor bright!' I'll tell you truly what I was thinking of. I was +thinking--thinking how excessively pretty I am. Now, tell the truth, and +shame the old gentleman. Did you ever, in all your life, see such a +beautiful, bewitching, tantalizing, ensnaring face as mine is?" + +"I think I never saw such a fool!" + +"Really? Then your holiness never looked at yourself in a mirror! never +beheld 'your natural face in a glass!' never saw 'what manner of man' +you are." + +"By St. Peter! I will not be insulted, and dishonored, and defied in +this outrageous manner. I swear I will have your thoughts, if I have to +pluck them from your heart." + +"Whe-ew! Well, if I didn't always think thought was free, may I never be +an interesting young widow, and captivate Thurston Willcoxen." + +"You impudent, audacious, abandoned--" + +"Ching a ring a ring chum choo! And a hio ring tum larky!" + +sang the elf, dancing about, seizing the bellows and flourishing it over +her head like a tambourine, as she danced. + +"Be still, you termagant. Be still, you lunatic, or I'll have you put in +a strait-jacket!" cried the exasperated professor. + +"Poor fellow!" said Jacko, dropping the bellows and sidling up to him in +a wheedling, mock-sympathetic manner. "P-o-o-r f-e-l-l-o-w! don't get +excited and go into the highstrikes. You can't help it if you're ugly +and repulsive as Time in the Primer, any more than Thurston Willcoxen +can help being handsome and attractive as Magnus Apollo." + +"It was of him, then, you were thinking, minion? I knew it! I knew it!" +exclaimed the professor, starting up, throwing down his book, and pacing +the floor. + +"Bear it like a man!" said Jacko, with solemnity. + +"You admit it, then. You--you--you--" + +"'Unprincipled female.' There! I have helped you to the words. And now, +if you will be melo-dramatic, you should grip up your hair with both +hands, and stride up and down the floor and vociferate, 'Confusion! +distraction! perdition! or any other awful words you can think of. +That's the way they do it in the plays." + +"Madam, your impertinence is growing beyond sufferance. I cannot endure +it." + +"That's a mighty great pity, now, for you can't cure it." + +"St. Mary! I will bear this no longer." + +"Then I'm afraid you'll have to emigrate!" + +"I'll commit suicide." + +"That's you! Do! I should like very well to wear bombazine this cold +weather. Please do it at once, too, if you're going to, for I should +rather be out of deep mourning by midsummer!" + +"By heaven, I will pay you for this." + +"Any time at your convenience, Dr. Grimshaw! And I shall be ready to +give you a receipt in full upon the spot!" said the elf, rising. +"Anything else in my line this morning, Dr. Grimshaw? Give me a call +when you come my way! I shall be much obliged for your patronage," she +continued, curtseying and dancing off toward the door. "By the way, my +dear sir, there is a lecture to be delivered this evening by our gifted +young fellow-citizen, Mr. Thurston Willcoxen. Going to hear him? I am! +Good-day!" she said, and kissed her hand and vanished. + +Grim was going crazy! Everybody said it, and what everybody says has +ever been universally received as indisputable testimony. Many people, +indeed, averred that Grim never had been quite right--that he always had +been queer, and that since his mad marriage with that flighty bit of a +child, Jacquelina, he had been queerer than ever. + +He would have been glad to prevent Jacquelina from going to the lecture +upon the evening in question; but there was no reasonable excuse for +doing so. Everybody went to the lectures, which were very popular. Mrs. +Waugh made a point of being punctually present at every one. And she +took charge of Jacquelina, whenever the whim of the latter induced her +to go, which was as often as she secretly wished to "annoy Grim." And, +in fact, "to plague the Ogre" was her only motive in being present, for, +truth to tell, the elf cared very little either for the lecturer or his +subjects, and usually spent the whole evening in yawning behind her +pocket handkerchief. Upon this evening, however, the lecture fixed even +the flighty fancy of Jacquelina, as she sat upon the front seat between +Mrs. Waugh and Dr. Grimshaw. + +Jacquelina was magnetized, and scarcely took her eyes from the speaker +during the whole of the discourse. Mrs. Waugh was also too much +interested to notice her companions. Grim was agonized. The result of +the whole of which was--that after they all got home, Dr. Grimshaw--to +use a common but graphic phrase--"put his foot down" upon the resolution +to prevent Jacquelina's future attendance at the lectures. Whether he +would have succeeded in keeping her away is very doubtful, had not a +remarkably inclement season of weather set in, and lasted a fortnight, +leaving the roads nearly impassable for two other weeks. And just as +traveling was getting to be possible, Thurston Willcoxen was called to +Baltimore, on his grandfather's business, and was absent a fortnight. +So, altogether, six weeks had passed without Jacquelina's finding an +opportunity to defy Dr. Grimshaw by attending the lectures against his +consent. + +At the end of that time, on Sunday morning, it was announced in the +church that Mr. Willcoxen having returned to the county, would resume +his lectures on the Wednesday evening following. Dr. Grimshaw looked at +Jacquelina, to note how she would receive this news. Poor Jacko had been +under Marian's good influences for the week previous, and was, in her +fitful and uncertain way, "trying to be good." "As an experiment to +please you, Marian," she said, "and to see how it will answer." Poor +elf! So she called up no false, provoking smile of joy, to drive Grim +frantic, but heard the news of Thurston's arrival with the outward +calmness that was perfectly true to the perfect inward indifference. + +"She has grown guarded--that is a very bad sign--I shall watch her +closer," muttered Grim behind his closed teeth. And when the professor +went home that day, his keen, pallid face was frightful to look upon. +And many were the comments made by the dispersing congregation. + +From that Sunday to the following Wednesday, not one word was spoken of +Thurston Willcoxen or his lecture. But on Wednesday morning Dr. Grimshaw +entered the parlor, where Jacquelina lingered alone, gazing out of the +window, and going up to her side, astonished her beyond measure by +speaking in a calm, kind tone, and saying: + +"Jacquelina, you have been too much confined to the house lately. You +are languid. You must go out more. Mr. Willcoxen lectures this evening. +Perhaps you would like to hear him. If so, I withdraw my former +prohibition, which was, perhaps, too harsh, and I beg you will follow +your own inclinations, if they lead you to go." + +You should have seen Jacko's eyes and eyebrows! the former were dilated +to their utmost capacity, while the latter were elevated to their +highest altitude. The professor's eyebrows were knotted together, and +his eyes sought the ground, as he continued: + +"I myself have an engagement at Leonardtown this afternoon, which will +detain me all night, and therefore shall not be able to escort you; but +Mrs. Waugh, who is going, will doubtless take you under her charge. +Would you like to go?" + +"I had already intended to go," replied Jacquelina, without relaxing a +muscle of her face. + +The professor nodded and left the room. + +Soon after, Jacquelina sought her aunty, whom she found in the pantry, +mixing mince-meat. + +"I say, aunty--" + +"Well, Lapwing?" + +"When Satan turns saint, suspicion is safe, is it not?" + +"What do you mean, Lapwing?" + +"Why, just now the professor came to me, politely apologized for his +late rudeness, and proposed that I should go with you to hear Mr. +Willcoxen's lecture, while he, the professor, goes to Leonardtown to +fulfill an engagement. I say, aunty, I sniff a plot, don't you?" + +"I don't know what to make of it, Lapwing. Are you going?" + +"Of course I am; I always intended to." + +No more was said at the time. + +Immediately after dinner Dr. Grimshaw ordered his horse, and saying that +he was going to Leonardtown and should not be back till the next day, +set forth. + +And after an early tea, Mrs. Waugh and Jacquelina set out in the family +sleigh. A swift run over the hard, frozen snow brought them to Old +Fields, where they stopped a moment to pick up Marian, and then shooting +forward at the same rate of speed, they reached the lecture-room in full +time. + +Jacquelina was perhaps the very least enchanted of all his hearers--she +was, in fact, an exception, and found the discourse so entirely +uninteresting that it was with difficulty she could refrain from yawning +in the face of the orator. Mrs. Waugh also, perhaps, was but half +mesmerized, for her eyes would cautiously wander from the lecturer's +pulpit to the side window on her right hand. At length she stooped and +whispered to Jacquelina: + +"Child, be cautious; Dr. Grimshaw is on the ground--I have seen his face +rise up to that lower pane of glass at the corner of that window, +several times. He must be crouched down on the outside." + +Jacquelina gave a little start of surprise--her face underwent many +phases of expression; she glanced furtively at the indicated window, and +there she saw a pale, wild face gleam for an instant against the glass, +and then drop. She nodded her head quickly, muttering: + +"Oh, I'll pay him!" + +"Don't child! don't do anything imprudent, for gracious' sake! That man +is crazy--any one can see he is!" + +"Oh, aunty, I'll be sure to pay him! He shan't be in my debt much +longer. Soft, aunty! Don't look toward the window again! Don't let him +perceive that we see him or suspect him--and then, you'll see what +you'll see. I have a counter plot." + +This last sentence was muttered to herself by Jacquelina, who thereupon +straightened herself up--looked the lecturer in the eyes--and gave her +undevoted attention to him during the rest of the evening. There was not +a more appreciating and admiring hearer in the room than Jacquelina +affected to be. Her face was radiant, her eyes starry, her cheeks +flushed, her pretty lips glowing breathlessly apart--her whole form +instinct with enthusiasm. Any one might have thought the little creature +bewitched. But the fascinating orator need not have flattered +himself--had he but known it--Jacquelina neither saw his face nor heard +his words; she was seeing pictures of Grim's bitter jealousy, +mortification and rage, as he beheld her from his covert; she was +rehearsing scenes of what she meant to do to him. And when at last she +forgot herself, and clapped her hand enthusiastically, it was not at the +glorious peroration of the orator--but at the perfection of her own +little plot! + +When the lecturer had finished, and as usual announced the subject and +the time of the next lecture, Jacquelina, instead of rising with the +mass of the audience, showed a disposition to retain her seat. + +"Come, my dear, I am going," said Mrs. Waugh. + +"Wait, aunty, I don't like to go in a crowd." + +Mrs. Waugh waited while the people pressed toward the outer doors. + +"I wonder whether the professor will wait and join us when we return +home?" said Mrs. Waugh. + +"We shall see," said Jacquelina. "I wish he may. I believe he will. I am +prepared for such an emergency." + +In the meantime, Thurston Willcoxen had descended from the platform, and +was shaking hands right and left with the few people who had lingered to +speak to him. Then he approached Mrs. Waugh's party, bowed, and +afterward shook hands with each member of it, only retaining Marian's +hand the fraction of a minute longest, and giving it an earnest pressure +in relinquishing it. Then he inquired after the health of the family at +Luckenough, commented upon the weather, the state of the crops, etc., +and with a valedictory bow withdrew, and followed the retreating crowd. + +"I think we can also go now," said Mrs. Waugh. + +"Yes," said Jacquelina, rising. + +Upon reaching the outside, they found old Oliver, with the sleigh drawn +up to receive them. Jacquelina looked all around, to see if she could +discover Thurston Willcoxen on the grounds; and not seeing him anywhere, +she persuaded herself that he must have hastened home. But she saw Dr. +Grimshaw, recognized him, and at the same time could but notice the +strong resemblance in form and manner that he bore to Thurston +Willcoxen, when it was too dark to notice the striking difference in +complexion and expression. Dr. Grimshaw approached her, keeping his +cloak partially lifted to his face, as if to defend it from the wind, +but probably to conceal it. Then the evil spirit entered Jacquelina, and +tempted her to sidle cautiously up to the professor, slip her arm +through his arm, and whisper: + +"Thurston! Come! Jump in the sleigh and go home with us. We shall have +such a nice time! Old Grim has gone to Leonardtown, and won't be home +till to-morrow!" + +"Has he, minion? By St. Judas! you are discovered now! I have now full +evidence of your turpitude. By all the saints! you shall answer for it +fearfully," said the professor, between his clenched teeth, as he closed +his arm upon Jacquelina's arm and dragged her toward the sleigh. + +"Ha! ha! ha! Oh! well, I don't care! If I mistook you for Thurston, it +is not the first mistake I ever made about you. I mistook you once +before for a man!" said Jacko, defiantly. + +He thrust her into the sleigh already occupied by Mrs. Waugh and Marian, +jumped in after her, and took the seat by her side. + +"Why, I thought that you set out for Leonardtown this afternoon, Dr. +Grimshaw!" said Mrs. Waugh, coldly. + +"You may have jumped to other conclusions equally false and dangerous, +madam!" + +"What do you mean, sir?" + +"I mean, madam, that in conniving at the perfidy of this unprincipled +girl, your niece, you imagined that you were safe. It was an error. You +are both discovered!" said the professor, doggedly. + +Henrietta was almost enraged. + +"Dr. Grimshaw," she said, "nothing but self-respect prevents me from +ordering you from this sleigh!" + +"I advise you to let self-respect, or any other motive you please, still +restrain you, madam. I remain here as the warden of this pretty +creature's person, until she is safely secured." + +"You will at least be kind enough to explain to us the causes of your +present words and actions, sir!" said Mrs. Waugh, severely. + +"Undoubtedly, madam! Having, as I judged, just reasons for doubting the +integrity of your niece, and more than suspecting her attachment to Mr. +Willcoxen, I was determined to test both. Therefore, instead of going to +Leonardtown, to be absent till to-morrow, I came here, posted myself at +a favorable point for observation, and took notes. While here, I saw +enough to convince me of Jacquelina's indiscretions. Afterward leaving +the spot with lacerated feelings I drew near her. She mistook me for her +lover, thrust her arm through mine, and said, 'Dear Thurston, come home +with me--'" + +"Oh! you shocking old fye-for-shame! I said no such thing! I said, +Thurston! Come! Jump in the sleigh and go home with us.'" + +"It makes little difference, madam! The meaning was the same. I will not +be responsible for a literal report. You are discovered." + +"What does that mean? If it means you have discovered that I mistook you +for Thurston Willcoxen, you ought to 'walk on thrones' the rest of your +life! You never got such a compliment before, and never will again!" + +"Aye! go on, madam! You and your conniving aunt--" + +"Dr. Grimshaw, if you dare to say or hint such impertinence to me again, +you shall leave your seat much more quickly than you took it," said Mrs. +Waugh. + +"We shall see, madam!" said the professor, and he lapsed into sullenness +for the remainder of the drive. + +But, oh! there was one in that sleigh upon whose heart the words of wild +Jacko had fallen with cruel weight-Marian! + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +PETTICOAT DISCIPLINE. + + +When the sulky sleighing party reached Luckenough they found Commodore +Waugh not only up and waiting, but in the highest state of +self-satisfaction, a blessing of which they received their full share of +benefit, for the old man, in the overflowing of his joy, had ordered an +oyster supper, which was now all ready to be served smoking hot to the +chilled and hungry sleigh-riders. + +"I wonder what's out now?" said Jacquelina, as she threw off her +wrappings, scattering them heedlessly on the chairs and floor of the +hall. "Some awful calamity has overtaken some of Uncle Nick's enemies. +Nothing on earth but that ever puts him into such a jolly humor. Now +we'll see! I wonder if it is a 'crowner's 'quest' case? Wish it was +Grim." + +Mrs. Henrietta blessed her stars for the good weather, without inquiring +very closely where it came from, as she conducted Marian to a bedroom +to lay off her bonnet and mantle. + +It was only at the foot of his own table, after ladling out and serving +around the stewed oysters "hot and hot," that the commodore, rubbing his +hands, and smiling until his great face was as grotesque as a +nutcracker's, announced that Miss Nancy Skamp was turned out of +office--yea, discrowned, unsceptred, dethroned, and that Harry Barnwell +reigned in her stead. The news had come in that evening's mail! All +present breathed more freely--all felt an inexpressible relief in +knowing that the post-office would henceforth be above suspicion, and +their letters and papers safe from, desecration. Only Marian said: + +"What will become of the poor old creature?" + +"By St. Judas Iscariot, that's her business." + +"No, indeed, I think it is ours; some provision should be made for her, +Commodore Waugh." + +"I'll recommend her to the trustees of the almshouse, Miss Mayfield." + +Marian thought it best not to pursue the subject then, but resolved to +embrace the first opportunity of appealing to the commodore's smothered +chivalry in behalf of a woman, old, poor, feeble, and friendless. + +During the supper Dr. Grimshaw sat up as stiff and solemn--Jacquelina +said--"as if he'd swallowed the poker and couldn't digest it." When they +rose from the table, and were about leaving the dining-room, Dr. +Grimshaw glided in a funereal manner to the side of the commodore, and +demanded a private interview with him. + +"Not to-night, Nace! Not to-night! I know by your looks what it is! It +is some new deviltry of Jacquelina's. That can wait! I'm as sleepy as a +whole cargo of opium! I would not stop to talk now to Paul Jones, if he +was to rise from the dead and visit me!" + +And the professor had to be content with that, for almost immediately +the family separated for the night. + +Marian, attended by the maid Maria, sought the chamber assigned to +herself. When she had changed her tight-fitting day-dress for a wrapper, +she dismissed the girl, locked the door behind her, and then drew her +chair up before the little fire, and fell into deep thought. Many causes +of anxiety pressed heavily upon Marian. That Thurston had repented his +hasty marriage with herself she had every reason to believe. + +She had confidently hoped that her explanation with Thurston would have +resulted in good--but, alas! it seemed to have had little effect. His +attentions to Miss Le Roy were still unremitted--the young lady's +partiality was too evident to all--and people already reported them to +be engaged. + +And now, as Marian sat by her little wood-fire in her chamber at +Luckenough, bitter, sorrowful questions, arose in her mind. Would he +persist in his present course? No, no, it could not be! This was +probably done only to pique herself; but then it was carried too far; it +was ruining the peace of a good, confiding girl. And Jacquelina--she had +evidently mistaken Dr. Grimshaw for Thurston, and addressed to him words +arguing a familiarity very improper, to say the least of it. Could he be +trifling with poor Jacquelina, too? Jacko's words when believing herself +addressing Thurston, certainly denoted some such "foregone conclusions." +Marian resolved to see Thurston once more--once more to expostulate with +him, if happily it might have some good effect. And having formed this +resolution, she knelt and offered up her evening prayers, and retired to +bed. + +The next day being Holy Thursday, there was, by order of the trustees, a +holiday at Miss Mayfield's school. And so Marian arose with the prospect +of spending the day with Jacquelina. When she descended to the +breakfast-room, what was her surprise to find Thurston Willcoxen, at +that early hour, the sole occupant of the room. He wore a green shooting +jacket, belted around his waist. He stood upon the hearth with his back +to the fire, his gun leaned against the corner of the mantle-piece, and +his game-bag dropped at his feet. Marian's heart bounded, and her cheek +and eye kindled when she saw him, and, for the instant, all her doubts +vanished--she could not believe that guilt lurked behind a countenance +so frank, noble and calm as his. He stepped forward to meet her, +extending his hand. She placed her own in it, saying: + +"I am very glad to see you this morning, dear Thurston, for I have +something to say to you which I hope you will take kindly from your +Marian, who has no dearer interest in the world than your welfare." + +"Marian, if it is anything relating to our old subject of dispute--Miss +Le Roy--let me warn you that I will hear nothing about it." + +"Thurston, the subjects of a neighborhood's gossip are always the very +last to hear it! You do not, perhaps, know that it is commonly reported +that you and Miss Le Roy are engaged to be married!" + +"And you give a ready ear and ready belief to such injurious slanders!" + +"No! Heaven knows that I do not! I will not say that my heart has not +been tortured--fully as much as your own would have been, dear +Thurston, had the case been reversed, and had I stooped to receive from +another such attentions as you have bestowed upon Miss Le Roy. But, upon +calm reflection, I fully believe that you could never give that young +lady my place in your heart, that having known and loved me--" + +Marian paused, but the soul rose like a day-star behind her beautiful +face, lighting serenely under her white eyelids, glowing softly on the +parted lips and blooming cheeks. + +"Ay! 'having known and loved me!' There again spoke the very enthusiasm +of self-worship! But how know you, Marian, that I do not find such +regnant superiority wearisome?--that I do not find it refreshing to sit +down quietly beside a lower, humbler nature, whose greatest faculty is +to love, whose greatest need to be loved!" + +"How do I know it? By knowing that higher nature of yours, which you now +ignore. Yet it is not of myself that I wish to speak, but of her. +Thurston, you pursue that girl for mere pastime, I am sure--with no +ulterior evil purpose, I am certain; yet, Thurston!" she said, +involuntarily pressing her hand tightly upon her own bosom, "I know how +a woman may love you, and that may be death or madness to Angelica, +which is only whim and amusement to you. And, Thurston, you must go no +further with this culpable trifling--you must promise me to see her no +more!" + +"'Must!' Upon my soul! you take state upon yourself, fair queen!" + +"Thurston, a higher authority than mine speaks by my lips--it is the +voice of Right! You will regard it. You will give me that promise!" + +"And if I do not--" + +"Oh! there is no time to argue with you longer--some one is coming--I +must be quick. It is two weeks, Thurston, since I first urged this upon +you; I have hesitated already too long, and now I tell you, though my +heart bleeds to say it, that unless you promise to see Angelica no more, +I will see and have an explanation with her to-morrow!" + +"You will!" + +"You can prevent it, dearest Thurston, by yourself doing what you know +to be right." + +"And if I do not?" + +"I will see Miss Le Roy, to-morrow!" + +"By heaven, then--" + +His words were suddenly cut short by the entrance of Mrs. Waugh. In an +instant his countenance changed, and taking up his bag of game, he went +to meet the smiling, good humored woman, saying with a gay laugh: + +"Good-morning, Mrs. Waugh! You see I have been shooting in the woods of +Luckenough this morning, and I could not leave the premises without +offering this tribute to their honored mistress." + +And Thurston gayly laid the trophy at her feet. + +"Hebe! will you please to see that a cup of hot coffee is sent up to +Mrs. L'Oiseau; she is unwell this morning, as I knew she would be, from +her excitement last night; or go with it yourself, Hebe! The presence of +the goddess of health at her bedside is surely needed." + +Marian left the room, and then Mrs. Waugh, turning to the young +gentleman, said: + +"Thurston, I am glad to have this opportunity of speaking to you, for I +have something very particular to say, which you must hear without +taking offense at your old aunty!" + +"Humph! I am in for petticoat discipline this morning, beyond a doubt," +thought the young man; but he only bowed, and placed a chair for Mrs. +Waugh. + +"I shall speak very plainly, Thurston." + +"Oh! by all means! As plainly as you please, Mrs. Waugh," said Thurston, +with an odd grimace; "I am growing accustomed to have ladies speak very +plainly to me." + +"Well! it won't do you any harm, Thurston. And now to the point! I told +you before, that you must not show any civility to Jacquelina. And now I +repeat it! And I warn you that if you do, you will cause some frightful +misfortune that you will have to repent all the days of your life--if it +be not fatal first of all to yourself. I do assure you that old Grimshaw +is mad with jealousy. He can no longer be held responsible for his +actions. And in short, you must see Jacquelina no more!" + +"Whe-ew! a second time this morning! Come! I'm getting up quite the +reputation of a lady-killer!" thought the young man. Then with a light +laugh, he looked up to Mrs. Waugh, and said: + +"My dear madam, do you take me for a man who would willingly disturb the +peace or honor of a family?" + +"Pshaw! By no means, my dear Thurston. Of course I know it's all the +most ridiculous nonsense!" + +"Well! By the patience of Job, I do think--" + +Again Thurston's words were suddenly cut short, by the entrance of--the +commodore, who planted his cane down with his usual emphatic force, and +said: + +"Oh, sir! You here! I am very glad of it! There is a little matter to be +discussed between you and me! Old Hen! leave us! vanish! evaporate!" + +Henrietta was well pleased to do so. And as she closed the door the +commodore turned to Thurston, and with another emphatic thump of his +cane, said: + +"Well, sir! a small craft is soon rigged, and a short speech soon made. +In two words, how dare you, sir! make love to Jacquelina?" + +"My dear uncle--" + +"By Neptune, sir; don't 'uncle' me. I ask you how you dared to make love +to my niece?" + +"Sir, you mistake, she made love to me." + +"You impudent, impertinent, unprincipled jackanape." + +"Come," said Thurston to himself, "I have got into a hornet's nest this +morning." + +"I shall take very good care, sir, to have Major Le Roy informed what +sort of a gentleman it is who is paying his addresses to his daughter." + +"Miss Le Roy will be likely to form a high opinion of me before this +week is out," said Thurston, laughing. + +"You--you--you graceless villain, you," cried the commodore in a +rage--"to think that I had such confidence in you, sir; defended you +upon all occasions, sir; refused to believe in your villainy, sir; +refused to close my doors against you, sir. Yes, sir; and should have +continued to do so, but for last night's affair." + +"Last night's affair! I protest, sir, I do not in the least understand +you?" + +"Oh! you don't. You don't understand that after the lecture last +evening, in leaving the place, Jacquelina thrust her arm through +yours--no; I mean through Grim's, mistaking him for you, and said--what +she never would have said, had there not been an understanding between +you." + +Thurston's face was now the picture of astonishment and perplexity. The +commodore seemed to mistake it for a look of consternation and detected +guilt, for he continued: + +"And now, sir, I suppose you understand what is to follow. Do you see +that door? It leads straight into the hall, which leads directly through +the front portal out into the lawn, and on to the highway--that is your +road, sir. Good-morning." + +And the commodore thumped down his stick and left the room--the image of +righteous indignation. + +Thurston nodded, smiled slightly, drew his tablets from his pocket, tore +a leaf out, took his pencil, laid the paper upon the corner of the +mantel-piece, wrote a few lines, folded the note, and concealed it in +his hand as the door opened, and admitted Mrs. Waugh, Marian and +Jacquelina. There was a telegraphic glance between the elder lady and +the young man. + +That of Mrs. Waugh said: + +"Do have pity on the fools, and go, Thurston." + +That of Thurston said: + +"I am going, Mrs. Waugh, and without laughing, if I can help it." + +Then he picked up his shooting cap, bowed to Jacquelina, shook hands +with Mrs. Waugh, and pressing Marian's palm, left within it the note +that he had written, took up his game bag and gun, and departed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +SANS SOUCI'S LAST FUN. + + +"The inconceivable idiots!" said Thurston, as he strode on through the +park of Luckenough, "to fancy that any one with eyes, heart and brain, +could possibly fall in love with the 'Will-o'-the-wisp' Jacquelina, or +worse, that giglet, Angelica; when he sees Marian! Marian, whose least +sunny tress is dearer to me than are all the living creatures in the +world besides. Marian, for whose possession I am now about to risk +everything, even her own esteem. Yet, she will forgive me; I will earn +her forgiveness by such devoted love." + +He hurried on until he reached an outer gate, through which old Oliver +was driving a cart loaded with wood. As if to disencumber himself, he +threw his game bag and valuable fowling piece to the old man, saying: + +"There, uncle; there's a present for you," and without waiting to hear +his thanks, hurried on, leaping hedges and ditches, until he came to the +spot where he had left his horse tied since the morning. Throwing +himself into his saddle, he put spurs to his horse, and galloped away +toward the village, nor drew rein until he reached a little tavern on +the water side. He threw his bridle to an hostler in waiting, and +hurrying in, demanded to be shown into a private room. The little parlor +was placed at his disposal. Here, for form's sake, he called for the +newspaper, cigars and a bottle of wine (none of which he discussed, +however), dismissed the attendant, and sat waiting. + +Presently the odor of tar, bilge water, tobacco and rum warned him that +his expected visitor was approaching. And an instant after the door was +opened, and a short, stout, dark man in a weather-proof jacket, duck +trousers, cow-hide shoes, and tarpaulin hat entered. + +"Well, Miles, I've been waiting for you here more than an hour," said +Thurston, impatiently. + +"Ay, ay, sir--all right. I've been cruising round, reconnoitering the +enemy's coast," replied the man, removing the quid of tobacco from his +mouth, and reluctantly casting it into the fire. + +"You are sure you know the spot?" + +"Ay, ay? sir--the beach just below the Old Fields farmhouse." + +"And south of the Pine Bluff." + +"Ay, ay, sir. I know the port--that ain't the head wind!" said Jack +Miles, pushing up the side of his hat, and scratching his head with a +look of doubt and hesitation. + +"What is, then, you blockhead?" asked Thurston, impatiently; "is your +hire insufficient?" + +"N-n-n--yes--I dunno! You see, cap'n, if I wer' cock sure, as that 'ere +little craft you want carried of wer' yourn." + +"Hush! don't talk so loud. You're not at sea in a gale, you fool. Well, +go on. Speak quickly and speak lower." + +"I wer' gwine to say, if so be I wer' sure you wer' the cap'n of her, +why then it should be plain sailing, with no fog around, and no breakers +ahead." + +"Well! I am, you fool. She is mine--my wife." + +"Well, but, cap'n," said the speaker, still hesitating, "if so be that's +the case, why don't she strike her colors to her rightful owner? Why +don't you take command in open daylight, with the drums a-beating, and +the flags a-flying? What must you board her like a pirate in this way +fur? I've been a-thinkin' on it, and I think it's dangerous steering +along this coast. You see it's all in a fog; I can't make out the land +nowhere, and I'm afraid I shall be on the rocks afore I knows it. You +see, cap'n, I never wer' in such a thick mist since I first went to sea. +No offense to you, cap'n!" + +"Oh, none in the world! No skillful pilot will risk his vessel in a fog. +But I have a certain golden telescope of magic powers. It enables you to +see clearly through the thickest mist, the darkest night that ever fell. +I will give it to you. In other words, I promised you five hundred +dollars for this job. Come, accomplish it to-night, and you shall have a +thousand. Is the mist lifting?" + +"I think it is, cap'n! I begin to see land." + +"Very well! now, is your memory as good as your sight? Do you recollect +the plan?" + +"Ay, ay, sir." + +"Just let me hear you go over it." + +"I'm to bring the vessel round, and lay to about a quarter of a mile o' +the coast. At dusk I'm to put off in a skiff and row to Pine Bluff, and +lay under its shadow till I hear your signal. Then I'm to put to shore +and take in the--the--" + +"The cargo." + +"Ay, ay, sir, the cargo." + +Leaving the two conspirators to improve and perfect their plot, we must +return to the breakfast parlor at Luckenough. The family were assembled +around the table. Dr. Grimshaw's dark, sombre and lowering looks, enough +to have spread a gloom over any circle, effectually banished +cheerfulness from the board. Marian had had no opportunity of reading +her note--she had slipped it into her pocket But as soon as breakfast +was over, amid the bustle of rising from the table, Marian withdrew to a +window and glanced over the lines. + +"My own dearest one, forgive my haste this morning. I regret the +necessity of leaving so abruptly. I earnestly implore you to see me once +more--upon the beach, near the Pine Bluffs, this evening at dusk. I have +something of the utmost importance to say to you." + +She hastily crumpled the note, and thrust it into her pocket just as +Jacquelina's quizzical face looked over her shoulder. + +"You're going to stay all day with me, Marian?" + +"Yes, love--that is, till after dinner. Then I shall have to beg of Mrs. +Waugh the use of the carriage to go home." + +"Well, then, I will ride with you, Marian, and return in the carriage." + +All the company, with the exception of Mrs. Waugh, Marian and +Jacquelina, had left the breakfast-room. + +Mrs. Waugh was locking her china closet, and when she had done, she took +her bunch of keys, and turning to Marian, said: + +"Hebe, dear, I want you to go with me and see poor old Cracked Nell. She +is staying in one of our quarters. I think she has not long to live, and +I want you to talk to her." + +"Now?" + +"Yes, dear, I am going to carry her some breakfast. So, come along, and +get your mantle," said the good woman, passing out through the door. + +Marian followed, drawing out her pocket handkerchief to tie over her +head; and as she did so, the note, unperceived by her, fluttered out, +and fell upon the carpet. + +Jacquelina impulsively darted upon it, picked it up, opened, and read +it. Had Jacquelina first paused to reflect, she would never have done +so. But when did the elf ever stop to think? As she read, her eyes began +to twinkle, and her feet to patter up and down, and her head to sway +from side to side, as if she could scarcely keep from singing and +dancing for glee. + +"Well, now, who'd a thought it! Thurston making love to Marian! And +keeping the courtship close, too, for fear of the old miser. Lord, but +look here! This was not right of me? Am I a pocket edition of Miss Nancy +Skamp! Forbid it, Titania, Queen of the Fairies! But I didn't steal +it--I found it! And I must, oh! must plague Grim a little with this! +Forgive me, Marian, but for the life and soul of me, I can't help +keeping this to plague Grim! You see, I promised to pay him when he +charged me with swallowing an assignation, and now if I don't pay him, +if I don't make him perspire till he faints, my name is not Mrs. +Professor Grimshaw! Let's see! What shall I do! Oh! Why, can't I pretend +to lose it, just as Marian lost it, and drop it where he'll find it? I +have it! Eureka!" soliloquized the dancing elf, as she placed her +handkerchief in the bottom of her pocket, and the note on top of it, and +passed on to the drawing-room to "bide her time." + +That soon came. She found the professor and the commodore standing in +the middle of the room, in an earnest conversation, which, however, +seemed near its close, for as she took her seat, the commodore said: + +"Very well--I'll attend to it, Nace," and clapped his hat upon his head, +and went out, while the professor dropped himself into a chair, and took +up a book. + +"Oh, stop, I want to speak to you a minute, uncle." cried Jacquelina, +starting up and flying after him, and as she flew, pulling out her +handkerchief and letting the note drop upon the floor. A swift, sly, +backward glance showed that Grim had pounced upon it like a panther on +its prey. + +"What in the d----l's name are you running after me for?" burst forth +the old man as Jacko overtook him. + +"Why, uncle, I want to know if you'll please to give orders in the +stable to have the carriage wheels washed off nicely? They neglect it. +And I and Marian want to use it this afternoon." + +"Go to the deuce! Is that my business?" + +Jacquelina laughed; and, quivering through every fibre of her frame with +mischief, went back into the drawing-room to see the state of Grim. + +To Jacquelina's surprise she found the note lying upon the same spot +where she had dropped it. Dr. Grimshaw was standing with his back toward +her, looking out of the window. She could not see the expression of his +countenance. She stooped and picked up the note, but had scarcely +replaced it in her pocket before Dr. Grimshaw abruptly turned, walked up +and stood before her and looked in her face. Jacquelina could scarcely +suppress a scream; it was as if a ghost had come before her, so blanched +was his color, so ghastly his features. An instant he gazed into her +eyes, and then passed out and went up-stairs. Jacquelina turned slowly +around, looking after him like one magnetized. Then recovering herself, +with a deep breath she said: + +"Now I ask of all the 'powers that be' generally, what's the meaning of +that? He picked up the note and he read it; that's certain. And he +dropped it there again to make me believe he had never seen it; that's +certain, too. I wonder what he means to do! There'll be fun of some +sort, anyway! Stop! here comes Marian from the quarters. I shouldn't +wonder if she has missed her note, and hurried back in search of it. +Come! I'll take a hint from Grim, and drop it where I found it, and say +nothing." + +And so soliloquizing, the fairy glided back into the breakfast-room, let +the note fall, and turned away just in time to allow Marian to enter, +glance around, and pick up her lost treasure. Then joining Marian, she +invited her up-stairs to look at some new finery just come from the city. + +The forenoon passed heavily at Luckenough. When the dinner hour +approached, and the family collected in the dining-room, Dr. Grimshaw +was missing; and when a messenger was sent to call him to dinner, an +answer was returned that the professor was unwell, and preferred to keep +his room. + +Jacquelina was quivering between fun and fear--vague, unaccountable +fear, that hung over her like a cloud, darkening her bright frolic +spirit with a woeful presentiment. + +After dinner Marian asked for the carriage, and Mrs. Waugh gave orders +that it should be brought around for her use. Jacquelina prepared to +accompany Marian home, and in an hour they were ready, and set forth. + +"You may tell Grim, if he asks after me, that I am gone home with Marian +to Old Fields, and that I am not certain whether I shall return to-night +or not," said Jacquelina, as she took leave of Mrs. Waugh. + +"My dear Lapwing, if you love your old aunty, come immediately back in +the carriage. And, by the way, my dear, I wish you would, either in +going or coming, take the post-office, and get the letters and papers," +said Mrs. Waugh. + +"Let it be in going, then, Mrs. Waugh, for I have not been to the +post-office for two days, and there may be something there for us also," +said Marian. + +"Very well, bright Hebe; as you please, of course," replied good +Henrietta. + +And so they parted. Did either dream how many suns would rise and set, +how many seasons come and go, how many years roll by, before the two +should meet again? + +The carriage was driven rapidly on to the village, and drawn up at the +post-office. Old Oliver jumped down, and went in to make the necessary +inquiries. They waited impatiently until he reappeared, bringing one +large letter. There was nothing for Luckenough. + +The great double letter was for Marian. She took it, and as the carriage +was started again, and drawn toward Old Fields, she examined the +post-mark and superscription. It was a foreign letter, mailed from +London, and superscribed in the handwriting of her oldest living friend, +the pastor who had attended her brother in his prison and at the scene +of his death. + +Marian, with tearful eyes and eager hands, broke the seal and read, +while Jacquelina watched her. For more than half an hour Jacko watched +her, and then impatience overcame discretion in the bosom of the fairy, +and she suddenly exclaimed: + +"Well, Marian! I do wonder what can ail you? You grow pale, and then you +grow red; your bosom heaves, the tears come in your eyes, you clasp your +hands tightly together as in prayer, then you smile and raise your eyes +as in thanksgiving! Now, I do wonder what it all means?" + +"It means, dear Jacquelina, that I am the most grateful creature upon +the face of the earth, just now; and to-morrow I will tell you why I am +so," said Marian, with a rosy smile. And well she might be most grateful +and most happy, for that letter had brought her assurance of fortune +beyond her greatest desires. On reading the news, her very first thought +had been of Thurston. Now the great objection of the miser to their +marriage would be removed--the great obstacle to their immediate union +overcome. Thurston would be delivered from temptation; she would be +saved anxiety and suspense. "Yes; I will meet him this evening; I cannot +keep this blessed news from him a day longer than necessary, for this +fortune that has come to me will all be his own! Oh, how rejoiced I am +to be the means of enriching him! How much good we can both do!" + +These were the tumultuous, generous thoughts that sent the flush to +Marian's cheeks, the smiles to her lips, and the tears to her eyes; that +caused those white fingers to clasp, and those clear eyes to rise to +Heaven in thankfulness, as she folded up her treasured letter and placed +it in her bosom. + +An hour's ride brought them to Old Field Cottage. The sun had not yet +set, but the sky was dark with clouds that threatened rain or snow; and +therefore Jacquelina only took time to jump out and speak to Edith, +shake hands with old Jenny, kiss Miriam, and bid adieu to Marian; and +then, saying that she believed she would hurry back on her aunty's +account, and that she was afraid she would not get to Luckenough before +ten o'clock, anyhow, she jumped into the carriage and drove off. + +And Marian, guarding her happy secret, entered the cottage to make +preparations for keeping her appointment with Thurston. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile, at Luckenough, Dr. Grimshaw kept his room until late in the +afternoon. Then, descending the stairs, and meeting the maid Maria, who +almost shrieked aloud at the ghastly face that confronted her, he asked: + +"Where is Mrs. Grimshaw?" + +"Lord, sir!" cried the girl, half paralyzed by the sound of his +sepulchral voice, "she's done gone home 'long o' Miss Marian." + +"When will she be back, do you know?" + +"Lord, sir!" cried Maria, shuddering, "I heerd her tell old Mis', how +she didn't think she'd be back to-night." + +"Ah!" said the unhappy man, in a hollow tone, that seemed to come from a +tomb, as he passed down. + +And Maria, glad to escape him, fled up-stairs, and never paused until +she had found refuge in Mrs. L'Oiseau's room. + +One hour after that, Professor Grimshaw, closely enveloped in an ample +cloak, left Luckenough, and took the road to the beach. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +NIGHT AND STORM. + + +The heavens were growing very dark; the wind was rising and driving +black clouds athwart the sky; the atmosphere was becoming piercingly +cold; the snow, that during the middle of the day had thawed, was +freezing hard. Yet Marian hurried fearlessly and gayly on over the +rugged and slippery stubble fields that lay between the cottage and the +beach. A rapid walk of fifteen minutes brought her down to the water's +edge. But it was now quite dark. Nothing could be more deserted, lonely +and desolate than the aspect of this place. From her feet the black +waters spread outward, till their utmost boundaries were lost among the +blacker vapors of the distant horizon. Afar off a sail, dimly seen or +guessed at, glided ghost-like through the shadows. Landward, the +boundaries of field and forest, hill and vale, were all blended, fused, +in murky obscurity. Heavenward, the lowering sky was darkened by wild, +scudding, black clouds, driven by the wind, through which the young moon +seemed plunging and hiding as in terror. The tide was coming in, and the +waves surged heavily with a deep moan upon the beach. Not a sound was +heard except the dull, monotonous moan of the sea, and the fitful, +hollow wail of the wind. The character of the scene was in the last +degree wild, dreary, gloomy and fearful. Not so, however, it seemed to +Marian, who, filled with happy, generous and tumultuous thoughts, was +scarcely conscious of the gathering darkness and the lowering storm, as +she walked up and down upon the beach, listening and waiting. She +wondered that Thurston had not been there ready to receive her; but this +thought gave her little uneasiness; it was nearly lost, as the storm and +darkness also were, in the brightness and gladness of her own loving, +generous emotions. There was no room in her heart for doubt or trouble. +If the thought of the morning's conversation and of Angelica entered her +mind, it was only to be soon dismissed with fair construction and +cheerful hope. And then she pictured to herself the surprise, the +pleasure of Thurston, when he should hear of the accession of fortune +which should set them both free to pursue their inclinations and plans +for their own happiness and for the benefit of others. And she sought in +her bosom if the letters were safe. Yes; there they were; she felt them. +Her happiness had seemed a dream without that proof of its reality. For +once she gave way to imagination, and allowed that magician to build +castles in the air at will. Thurston and herself must go to England +immediately to take possession of the estate; that was certain. Then +they must return. But ere that she would confide to him her darling +project; one that she had never breathed to any, because to have done so +would have been vain; one that she had longingly dreamed of, but never, +as now, hoped to realize. And Edith--she would make Edith so +comfortable! Edith should be again surrounded with the elegancies and +refinements of life. And Miriam--Miriam should have every advantage of +education that wealth could possibly secure for her, either in this +country or in Europe. If Edith would spare Miriam, the little girl +should go with her to England. But Thurston--above all, Thurston! A +heavy drop of rain struck Marian in the face, and, for an instant, woke +her from her blissful reverie. + +She looked up. Why did not Thurston come? The storm would soon burst +forth upon the earth; where was Thurston? Were he by her side there +would be nothing formidable in the storm, for he would shelter her with +his cloak and umbrella, as they should scud along over the fields to the +cottage, and reach the fireside before the rain could overtake them. +Where was he? What could detain him at such a time? She peered through +the darkness up and down the beach. To her accustomed eye, the features +of the landscape were dimly visible. That black form looming like a +shadowy giant before her was the headland of Pine Bluff, with its base +washed by the sullen waves. It was the only object that broke the dark, +dull monotony of the shore. She listened; the moan of the sea, the wail +of the wind, were blended in mournful chorus. It was the only sound that +broke the dreary silence of the hour. + +Hark! No; there was another sound. Amid the moaning and the wailing of +winds and waves, and the groaning of the coming storm, was heard the +regular fall of oars, soon followed by the slow, grating sound of a boat +pushed up upon the frozen strand. Marian paused and strained her eyes +through the darkness in the direction of the sound, but could see +nothing save the deeper, denser darkness around Pine Bluff. She turned, +and, under cover of the darkness, moved swiftly and silently from the +locality. The storm was coming on very fast. The rain was falling and +the wind rising and driving it into her face. She pulled her hood +closely about her face, and wrapped her shawl tightly about her as she +met the blast. + +Oh! where was Thurston, and why did he not come? She blamed herself for +having ventured out; yet could she have foreseen this? No; for she had +confidently trusted in his keeping his appointment. She had never known +him to fail before. What could have caused the failure now? Had he kept +his tryste they would now have been safely housed at Old Field Cottage. +Perhaps Thurston, seeing the clouds, had taken for granted that she +would not come, and he had therefore stayed away. Yet, no; she could not +for an instant entertain that thought. Well she knew that had a storm +risen, and raged as never a storm did before, Thurston, upon the bare +possibility of her presence there, would keep his appointment. No; +something beyond his control had delayed him. And, unless he should now +very soon appear, something very serious had happened to him. The storm +was increasing in violence; her shawl was already wet, and she resolved +to hurry home. + +She had just turned to go when the sound of a man's heavy, measured +footsteps, approaching from the opposite direction, fell upon her ear. +She looked up half in dread, and strained her eyes out into the +blackness of the night. It was too dark to see anything but the outline +of a man's figure wrapped in a large cloak, coming slowly on toward her. +As the man drew near she recognized the well-known figure, air and gait; +she had of the identity. She hastened to meet him, exclaiming in a low, +eager tone: + +"Thurston! dear Thurston!" + +The man paused, folded his cloak about him, drew up, and stood perfectly +still. + +Why did he not answer her? Why did he not speak to her? Why did he stand +so motionless, and look so strange? She could not have seen the +expression of his countenance, even if a flap of his cloak had not been +folded across his face; but his whole form shook as with an ague fit. + +"Thurston! dear Thurston!" she exclaimed once more, under her breath, as +she pressed toward him. + +But he suddenly stretched out his hand to repulse her, gasping, as it +were, breathlessly, "Not yet--not yet!" and again his whole frame shook +with an inward storm. What could be the reason of his strange behavior? +Oh, some misfortune had happened to him--that was evident! Would it were +only of a nature that her own good news might be able to cure. And it +might be so. Full of this thought, she was again pressing toward him, +when a violent flurry of rain and wind whistled before her and drove +into her face, concealing him from her view. When the sudden gust as +suddenly passed, she saw that he remained in the same spot, his breast +heaving, his whole form shaking. She could bear it no longer. She +started forward and put her arms around his neck, and dropped her head +upon his bosom, and whispered in suppressed tones: + +"Dearest Thurston, what is the matter? Tell me, for I love you more than +life!" + +The man clasped his left arm fiercely around her waist, lifted his right +hand, and, hissing sharply through his clenched teeth: + +"You have drawn on your own doom--die, wretched girl!" plunged a dagger +in her bosom, and pushed her from him. + +One sudden, piercing shriek, and she dropped at his feet, grasping at +the ground, and writhing in agony. Her soul seemed striving to recover +the shock, and recollect its faculties. She half arose upon her elbow, +supported her head upon her hand, and with her other hand drew the steel +out from her bosom, and laid it down. The blood followed, and with the +life-stream her strength flowed away. The hand that supported her head +suddenly dropped, and she fell back. The man had been standing over her, +speechless, motionless, breathless, like some wretched somnambulist, +suddenly awakened in the commission of a crime, and gazing in horror, +amazement, and unbelief upon the work of his sleep. + +Suddenly he dropped upon his knees by her side, put his arm under her +head and shoulders and raised her up; but her chin fell forward upon her +bosom, and her eyes fixed and glazed. He laid her down gently, groaning +in a tone of unspeakable anguish: + +"Miss Mayfield! My God! what have I done?" And with an awful cry, +between a shriek and a groan, the wretched man cast himself upon the +ground by the side of the fallen body. + +The storm was beating wildly upon the assassin and his victim; but the +one felt it no more than the other. At length the sound of footsteps was +heard approaching fast and near. In the very anguish of remorse the +instinct of self-preservation seized the wretched man, and he started up +and fled as from the face of the avenger of blood. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +THE STRUGGLE ENDED. + + +In the meantime Jacquelina had reached home sooner than she had +expected. It was just dark, and the rain was beginning to fall as she +sprang from the carriage and darted into the house. + +Mrs. Waugh met her in the hall, took her hand, and said: + +"Oh, my dear Lapwing! I'm so glad you have come back, bad as the weather +is; for indeed the professor gives me a great deal of anxiety, and if +you had stayed away to-night I could not have been answerable for the +consequences. There, now; hurry up-stairs and change your dress, and +come down to tea. It is all ready, and we have a pair of canvasback +ducks roasted." + +"Very well, aunty! But--is Grim in the house?" + +"I don't know, my love. You hurry." + +Jacquelina tripped up the stairs to her own room, which she found +lighted, warmed, and attended by her maid, Maria. She took off her +bonnet and mantle, and laid them aside, and began to smooth her hair, +dancing all the time, and quivering with suppressed laughter in +anticipation of her "fun." When she had arranged her dress, she went +down-stairs and passed into the dining-room, where the supper table was +set. + +"See if Nace Grimshaw is in his room, and if he is not, we will wait no +longer!" said the hungry commodore, thumping his heavy stick down upon +the floor. + +Festus sprang to do his bidding, and after an absence of a few minutes +returned with the information that the professor was not there. + +Jacquelina shrugged her shoulders, and shook with inward laughter. + +They all sat down, and amid the commodore's growls at Grim's irregular +hours, and Jacquelina's shrugs and smiles and sidelong glances and +ill-repressed laughter, the meal passed. And when it was over, the +commodore, leaning on Mrs. Waugh's arm, went to his own particular sofa +in the back parlor; Mrs. L'Oiseau remained, to superintend the clearing +away of the supper-table; and Jacquelina danced on to the front parlor, +where she found no one but the maid, who was mending the fire. + +"Say! did you see anything of the professor while I was gone?" she +inquired. + +"Lors, honey, I wish I hadn't! I knows how de thought of it will give me +'liriums nex' time I has a fever." + +"Why? What did he do? When was it?" + +"Why, chile, jes afore sundown, as I was a carryin' an armful of wood +up-stairs, for Miss Mary's room, I meets de 'fessor a comin' down. I +like to 'a' screamed! I like to 'a' let de wood drap! I like to 'a' +drapped right down myself! It made my heart beat in de back o' my +head--he look so awful, horrid gashly! Arter speakin' in a voice hollow +as an empty coffin, an' skeerin' me out'n my seventeen sensibles axin +arter you, he jes tuk hisself off summers, an' I ain't seen him sence." + +"What did he ask you? What did you tell him?" + +"He jes ax where you was. I telled him how you were gone home 'long o' +Miss Marian; he ax when you were comin' back; I telled him I believed +not till to-morrow mornin'; then his face turned all sorts of awful dark +colors, an' seemed like it crushed right in, an' he nodded and said +'Ah!' but it sounded jes like a hollow groan; and he tuk hisself off, +and I ain't seen him sence." + +The elf danced about the room, unable to restrain her glee. And the +longer Dr. Grimshaw remained away, the more excited she grew. She +skipped about like the very sprite of mischief, exclaiming to herself: + +"Oh, shan't we have fun presently! Oh, shan't we, though! The Grim +maniac! he has gone to detect me! And he'll break in upon Thurston and +Marian's interview. Won't there be an explosion! Oh, Jupiter! Oh, Puck! +Oh, Mercury! What fun--what delicious fun! Wr-r-r-r! I can scarcely +contain myself! Begone, Maria! Vanish! I want all the space in this room +to myself! Oh, fun alive! What a row there'll be! Me-thinks I hear the +din of battle! + +"Oh clanga a rang! a rang! clang! clash! Whoop!" + +sang the elf, springing and dancing, and spinning, and whirling, around +and around the room in the very ecstasy of mischief. Her dance was +brought to a sudden and an awful close. + +The hall door was thrown violently open, hurried and irregular steps +were heard approaching, the parlor door was pushed open, and Dr. +Grimshaw staggered forward and paused before her! + +Yes; her frolic was brought to an eternal end. She saw at a glance that +something fatal, irreparable, had happened. There was blood upon his +hands and wrist-bands! Oh, more--far more! There was the unmistakable +mark of Cain upon his writhen brow! Before now she had seen him look +pale and wild and haggard, and had known neither fear nor pity for him. +But now! An exhumed corpse galvanized into a horrid semblance of life +might look as he did--with just such sunken cheeks and ashen lips and +frozen eyes; with just such a collapsed and shuddering form; yet, +withal, could not have shown that terrific look of utter, incurable +despair! His fingers, talon-like in their horny paleness and rigidity, +clutched his breast, as if to tear some mortal anguish thence, and his +glassy eyes were fixed in unutterable reproach upon her face! Thrice he +essayed to speak, but a gurgling noise in his throat was the only +result. With a last great effort to articulate, the blood suddenly +filled his throat and gushed from his mouth! For a moment he sought to +stay the hemorrhage by pressing a handkerchief to his lips; but soon his +hand dropped powerless to his side; he reeled and fell upon the floor! + +Jacquelina gazed in horror on her work. + +And then her screams of terror filled the house! + +The family came rushing in. Foremost entered the commodore, shaking his +stick in a towering passion, and exclaiming at the top of his voice: + +"What the devil is all this? What's broke loose now? What are you +raising all this row for, you infernal little hurricane?" + +"Oh, uncle! aunty! mother! look--look!" exclaimed Jacquelina, wringing +her pale fingers, and pointing to the fallen man. + +The sight arrested all eyes. + +The miserable man lay over on his side, ghastly pale, and breathing +laboriously, every breath pumping out the life-blood, that had made a +little pool beside his face. + +Mrs. Waugh and Mary L'Oiseau hastened to stoop and raise the sufferer. +The commodore drew near, half stupefied, as he always was in a crisis. + +"What--what--what's all this? Who did it? How did it happen?" he asked, +with a look of dull amazement. + +"Give me a sofa cushion, Maria, to place under his head. Mary L'Oiseau, +hurry as fast as you can, and send a boy for Dr. Brightwell; tell him to +take the swiftest horse in the stable, and ride for life and death, and +bring the physician instantly, for Dr. Grimshaw is dying! Hurry!" + +"Dying? Eh! what did you say, Henrietta?" inquired the commodore, in a +sort of stupid, blind anxiety; for he was unable to comprehend what had +happened. + +"Speak to me, Henrietta! What is the matter? What ails Grim?" + +"He has ruptured an artery," said Mrs. Waugh, gravely, as she laid the +sufferer gently back upon the carpet and placed the sofa pillow under +his head. + +"Ruptured an artery? How did it happen? Grim! Nace! speak to me! How do +you feel? Oh, Heaven! he doesn't speak--he doesn't hear me! Oh, +Henrietta! he is very ill--he is very ill! He must be put to bed at +once, and the doctor sent for! Come here, Maria! Help me to lift your +young master," said the old man, waking up to anxiety. + +"Stay! The doctor has been sent for; but he must not be moved; it would +be fatal to him. Indeed, I fear that he is beyond human help," said +Henrietta, as she wiped the gushing stream from the lips of the dying +man. + +"Beyond human help! Eh! what? Nace! No! no! no! no! It can't be!" said +the old man, kneeling down, and bending over him in helpless trouble. + +"Attend Dr. Grimshaw, while I hurry out and see what can be done, +Mary," said Mrs. Waugh, resigning her charge, and then hastening from +the room. She soon returned, bringing with her such remedies as her +limited knowledge suggested. And she and Mary L'Oiseau applied them; but +in vain! Every effort for his relief seemed but to hasten his death. The +hemorrhage was subsiding; so also was his breath. "It is too late; he is +dying!" said Henrietta, solemnly. + +"Dying! No, no, Nace! Nace! speak to me! Nace! you're not dying! I've +lost more blood than that in my time! Nace! Nace! speak to your +old--speak, Nace!" cried the commodore, stooping down and raising the +sufferer in his arms, and gazing, half wildly, half stupidly, at the +congealing face. + +He continued thus for some moments, until Mrs. Waugh, putting her hand +upon his shoulder, said gravely and kindly: + +"Lay him down, Commodore Waugh; he is gone." + +"Gone! gone!" echoed the old man, in his imbecile distraction, and +dropped his gray head upon the corpse, and groaned aloud. + +Mrs. Waugh came and laid her hand affectionately on his shoulder. He +looked up in such hopeless, helpless trouble, and cried out: + +"Oh, Henrietta! he was my son--my only, only son! My poor, unowned boy! +Oh, Henrietta! is he dead? Are you sure? Is he quite gone?" + +"He is gone, Commodore Waugh; lay him down; come away to your room," +said Henrietta, gently taking his hand. + +Jacquelina, white with horror, was kneeling with clasped hands and +dilated eyes, gazing at the ruin. The old man's glance fell upon her +there, and his passion changed from grief to fury. Fiercely he broke +forth: + +"It was you! You are the murderess--you! Heaven's vengeance light upon +you!" + +"Oh, I never meant it! I never meant it! I am very wretched! I wish I'd +never been born!" cried Jacquelina, wringing her pale fingers. + +"Out of my sight, you curse! Out of my sight--and may Heaven's wrath +pursue you!" thundered the commodore, shaking with grief and rage. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +THE BODY ON THE BEACH. + + +In the meanwhile, where was he whose headlong passions had precipitated +this catastrophe? where was Thurston? After having parted with his +confederate, he hurried home, for a very busy day lay before him. To +account for his sudden departure, and long absence, and to cover his +retreat, it was necessary to have some excuse, such as a peremptory +summons to Baltimore upon the most important business. Once in that +city, he would have leisure to find some further apology for proceeding +directly to France without first returning home. Now, strange as it may +appear, though his purposed treachery to Marian wrung his bosom with +remorse whenever he paused to think of it, yet it was the remorse +without humiliation; for he persuaded himself that stratagem was fair in +love as in war, especially in his case with Marian, who had already +given him her hand; but now the unforseen necessity of these subterfuges +made his cheek burn. He hastened to Dell-Delight, and showing the old +man a letter he had that morning received from the city, informed him +that he was obliged to depart immediately, upon affairs of the most +urgent moment to him, and then, to escape the sharp stings of +self-scorn, he busied himself with arranging his papers, packing his +trunks and ordering his servants. His baggage was packed into and behind +the old family carriage, and having completed his preparations about one +o'clock, he entered it, and was driven rapidly to the village. + +The schooner was already at the wharf and waiting for him. Thurston met +many of his friends in the village, and in an off-hand manner explained +to them the ostensible cause of his journey. And thus, in open daylight, +gayly chatting with his friends, Thurston superintended the embarkation +of his baggage. And it was not until one by one they had shaken hands +with him, wished him a good voyage and departed, that Thurston found +himself alone with the captain in the cabin. + +"Now you know, Miles, that I have not come on board to remain. When the +coast is clear I shall go on shore, get in the carriage, and return to +Dell-Delight. I must meet my wife on the beach. I must remain with her +through all. I must take her on board. You will be off Pine Bluff just +at dusk, captain?" + +"Ay, ay, sir." + +"You will not be a moment behind hand?" + +"Trust me for that, Cap'n." + +"See if the people have left." + +The skipper went on deck and returned to report the coast clear. + +Thurston then went on shore, entered the carriage, and was driven +homeward. + +It was nearly four o'clock when he reached Dell-Delight, and there he +found the whole premises in a state of confusion. Several negroes were +on the lookout for him; and as soon as they saw him ran to the house. + +"What is the meaning of all this?" he inquired, detaining one of the +hindmost. + +"Oh, Marse Thuster, sir! oh, sir!" exclaimed the boy, rolling his eyes +quite wildly. + +"What is the matter with the fool?" + +"Oh, sir; my poor ole marse! my poor ole marse!" + +"What has happened to your master? Can't you be plain, sir?" + +"Oh, Marse Thuster, sir! he done fell down inter a fit, an had to be +toted off to bed." + +"A fit! good heavens! has a doctor been summoned?" exclaimed Thurston, +springing from his seat. + +"Oh, yes, sir! Jase be done gone arter de doctor." + +Thurston stopped to inquire no farther, but ran into the house and up +into his grandfather's chamber. + +There a distressing scene met his eyes. The old man, with his limbs +distorted, and his face swollen and discolored, lay in a state of +insensibility upon the bed. Two or three negro women were gathered +around him, variously occupied with rubbing his hands, chafing his +temples and wiping the oozing foam from his lips. At the foot of the bed +stood poor daft Fanny, with disheveled hair and dilated eyes, chanting a +grotesque monologue, and keeping time with a see-saw motion from side to +side. The first thing Thurston did, was to take the hand of this poor +crazed, but docile creature, and lead her from the sick-room up into her +own. He bade her remain there, and then returned to his grandfather's +bedside. In reply to his anxious questioning, he was informed that the +old man had fallen into a fit about an hour before--that a boy had been +instantly sent for the doctor, and the patient carried to bed; but that +he had not spoken since they laid him there. It would yet be an hour +before the doctor could possibly arrive, and the state of the patient +demanded instant attention. + +And withal Thurston was growing very anxious upon Marian's account. The +sun was now sinking under a dark bank of clouds. The hour of his +appointed meeting with her was approaching. He felt, of course, that his +scheme must for the present be deferred--even if its accomplishment +should again seem necessary, which was scarcely possible. But Marian +would expect him. And how should he prevent her coming to the beach and +waiting for him there? He did not know where a message would most likely +now to find her, whether at Luckenough, at Old Fields or at Colonel +Thornton's. But he momentarily expected the arrival of Dr. Brightwell, +and he resolved to leave that good man in attendance at the sick bed, +while he himself should escape for a few hours; and hurry to the beach +to meet and have an explanation with his wife. + +But an hour passed, and the doctor did not come. + +Thurston's eyes wandered anxiously from the distorted face of the dying +man before him, to the window that commanded the approach to the house. +But no sign of the doctor was to be seen. + +The sun was on the very edge of the horizon. The sufferer before him was +evidently approaching his end. Marian he knew must be on her way to the +beach. And a dreadful storm was rising. + +His anxiety reached fever heat. + +He could not leave the bedside of his dying relative, yet Marian must +not be permitted to wait upon the beach, exposed to the fierceness of +the storm, or worse the rudeness of his own confederates. + +He took a sudden resolution, and wondered that he had not done so +before. He resolved to summon Marian as his wife to his home. + +Full of this thought, he hastened down stairs and ordered Melchizedek to +put the horse to the gig and get ready to go an errand. And while the +boy was obeying his directions, Thurston penned the following lines to +Marian: + +"My dear Marian--my dear, generous, long-suffering wife--come to my aid. +My grandfather has been suddenly stricken down with apoplexy, and is +dying. The physician has not yet arrived, and I cannot leave his +bedside. Return with my messenger, to assist me in taking care of the +dying man. You, who are the angel of the sick and suffering, will not +refuse me your aid. Come, never to leave me more! Our marriage shall be +acknowledged to-morrow, to-night, any time, that you in your nicer +judgment, shall approve. Come! let nothing hinder you. I will send a +message to Edith to set her anxiety at rest, or I will send for her to +be with you here. Come to me, beloved Marian. Dictate your own +conditions if you will--only come." + +He had scarcely sealed this note, when the boy, hat in hand, appeared at +the door. + +"Take this note, sir, jump in the gig and drive as fast as possible to +the beach below Pine Bluffs. You will see Miss Mayfield waiting there, +give her this note, and then--await her orders. Be quicker than you ever +were before," said Thurston, hurrying his messenger off. + +Then, much relieved of anxiety upon Marian's account, he returned to the +sick-room and renewed his endeavors to relieve the patient. + +Ah! he was far past relief now; he was stricken with death. And with +Thurston all thoughts, all feelings, all interests, even those connected +with Marian, were soon lost in that awful presence. It was the first +time he had ever looked upon death, and now, in the rushing tide of his +sinful passions and impetuous will, he was brought face to face with +this last, dread, all-conquering power! What if it were not in his own +person? What if it were in the person of an old man, very infirm, and +over-ripe for the great reaper? It was death--the final earthly end of +every living creature--death, the demolition of the human form, the +breaking up of the vital functions, the dissolution between soul and +body, the one great event that "happeneth to all;" the doom certain, the +hour uncertain; coming in infancy, youth, maturity, as often or oftener +than in age. These were the thoughts that filled Thurston's mind as he +stood and wiped the clammy dews from the brow of the dying man. + +Thurston might have remained much longer, too deeply and painfully +absorbed in thought to notice the darkening of the night or the beating +of the storm, had not a gust of the rain and wind, of unusual violence, +shaken the windows. + +This recalled Marian to his mind; it was nearly time for her to arrive; +he hoped that she was near the house; that she would soon be there; he +arose and went to the window to look forth into the night; but the deep +darkness prevented his seeing, as the noise of the storm prevented his +hearing the approach of any vehicle that might be near. He went back to +the bedside; the old man was breathing his life away without a struggle. +Thurston called the mulatto housekeeper to take his place, and then went +down stairs and out of the hall door, and gazed and listened for the +coming of the gig, in vain. He was just about to re-enter the hall and +close the door when the sound of wheels, dashing violently, +helter-skelter, and with break-neck speed into the yard, arrested his +attention. + +"Marian! it is my dear Marian at last; but the fellow need not risk her +life to save her from the storm by driving at that rate. My own Marian!" +he exclaimed, as he hurried out, expecting to meet her. + +Melchizedek alone sprang from the gig, and sank trembling and quaking at +his master's feet. + +Thurston blindly pushed past him, and peered and felt in the gig. It was +empty. + +"Where is the lady, sirrah? What ails you? Why don't you answer me?" +exclaimed Thurston, anxiously returning to the spot where the boy +crouched. But the latter remained speechless, trembling, groaning, and +wringing his hands. "Will you speak, idiot? I ask you where is the lady? +Was she not upon the beach? What has frightened you so? Did the horse +run away?" inquired Thurston, hurriedly, in great alarm. + +"Oh, sir, marster! I 'spects she's killed!" + +"Killed! Oh, my God! she has been thrown from the gig!" cried the young +man, in a piercing voice, as he reeled under this blow. In another +instant he sprang upon the poor boy and shaking him furiously, cried in +a voice of mingled grief, rage and anxiety: "Where was she thrown? Where +is she? How did it happen? Oh! villain! villain! you shall pay for this +with your life! Come and show me the spot! instantly! instantly!" + +"Oh, marster, have mercy, sir! 'Twasn't along o' me an' the gig it +happened of! She wur 'parted when I got there!" + +"Where? Where? Good heavens, where?" asked Thurston, nearly beside +himself. + +"On de beach, sir. Jes' as I got down there, I jumped out'n de gig, and +walked along, and then I couldn't see my way, an' I turned de bull-eye +ob de lantern on de sand afore me, an' oh, marse--" + +"Go, on! go on!" + +"I seen de lady lying like dead, and a man jump up and run away, and +when I went nigh, I seen her all welkering in her blood, an' dis yer +lying by her," and the boy handed a small poignard to his master. + +It was Thurston's own weapon, that he had lost some months previous in +the woods of Luckenough. It was a costly and curious specimen of French +taste and ingenuity. The handle was of pearl, carved in imitation of the +sword-fish, and the blade corresponded to the long pointed beak that +gives the fish that name. + +Thurston scarcely noticed that it was his dagger, but pushing the boy +aside, he ran to the stables, saddled a horse with the swiftness of +thought, threw himself into his stirrups, and galloped furiously away +towards the beach. + +The rain was now falling in torrents, and the wind driving it in fierce +gusts against his face. The tempest was at its very height, and it +seemed at times impossible to breast the blast--it seemed as though +steed and rider must be overthrown! Yet he lashed and spurred his horse, +and struggled desperately on, thinking with fierce anguish of Marian, +his Marian, lying wounded, helpless, alone and dying, exposed to all the +fury of the winds and waves upon that tempestuous coast, and dreading +with horror, lest before he should be able to reach her, her helpless +form, still living, might be washed off by the advancing waves. Thus he +spurred and lashed his horse, and drove him against rain and wind, and +through the darkness of the night. + +With all his desperate haste, it was two hours before he approached the +beach. And as he drew near the heavy cannonading of the waves upon the +shore admonished him that the tide was at its highest point. He pressed +rapidly onward, threw himself from his horse, and ran forward to the +edge of the bank above the beach. It was only to meet the confirmation +of his worst fears! The waters were thundering against the bank upon +which he stood. The tide had come in and overswept the whole beach, and +now, lashed and driven by the wind, the waves tossed and raved and +roared with appalling fury. + +Marian was gone, lost, swept away by the waves! that was the thought +that wrung from him a cry of fierce agony, piercing through all the +discord of the storm, as he ran up and down the shore, hoping nothing, +expecting nothing, yet totally unable to tear himself from the fatal +spot. + +And so he wildly walked and raved, until his garments were drenched +through with the rain; until the storm exhausted its fury and subsided; +until the changing atmosphere, the still, severe cold, froze all his +clothing stiff around him; so he walked, groaning and crying and calling +despairingly upon the name of Marian, until the night waned and the +morning dawned, and the eastern horizon grew golden, then crimson, then +fiery with the coming sun. + +The sky was clear, the waters calm, the sands bare and glistening in the +early sunbeams; no vestige of the storm or of the bloody outrage of the +night remained--all was peace and beauty. In the distance was a single +snow-white sail, floating swan-like on the bosom of the blue waters. All +around was beauty and peace, yet from the young man's tortured bosom +peace had fled, and remorse, vulture-like, had struck its talons deep +into his heart. He called himself a murderer, the destroyer of Marian; +he said it was his selfishness, his willfulness, his treachery, that had +exposed her to this danger, and brought her to this fate! Some outlaw, +some waterman, or fugitive negro had robbed and murdered her. Marian +usually wore a very valuable watch; probably, also, she had money about +her person--enough to have tempted the cupidity of some lawless wretch. +He shrank in horror from pursuing conjecture--it was worse than torture, +worse than madness to him. Oh, blindness and frenzy; why had he not +thought of these dangers so likely to beset her solitary path? Why had +he so recklessly exposed her to them? Vain questions, alas! vain as was +his self-reproach, his anguish and despair! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +THE MISSING MARIAN. + + +In the meantime, how had the morning broken upon Dell-Delight? How upon +Luckenough? and how at Old Field Cottage? + +At Dell-Delight the old man had expired just before the sun arose. The +two physicians that had been summoned the night previous, but had been +delayed by the storm, arrived in the morning only to see the patient +die. Many inquiries were made and much conjecture formed as to the cause +of Thurston Willcoxen's improper and unaccountable absence at such a +juncture. But Melchizedek, poor, faithful fellow, having followed his +master's steps, did not appear, and no one else upon the premises could +give any explanation relative to the movements of their young master. He +had left the bedside of his dying relative at nine o'clock the night +before, and he had not since returned--his saddle-horse was gone from +the stable--that was all that could be ascertained. Dr. Brightwell took +his departure, to answer other pressing calls. But Dr. Weismann, seeing +that there was no responsible person in charge, and having elsewhere no +urgent demands upon his time and attention, kindly volunteered to stay +and superintend affairs at Dell-Delight, until the reappearance of the +young master. + + * * * * * + +At Old Field Cottage, Edith had sat up late the night before waiting for +Marian; but, seeing that she did not return, had taken it for granted +that she had remained all night with Miss Thornton, and so, without the +least uneasiness at her prolonged absence, had retired to rest. And in +the morning she arose with the same impression on her mind, gayly +looking forward to Marian's return with the visitor, and the certain +happy revelation she had promised. + +She had breakfast over early, made the room very tidy, dressed Miriam in +her holiday clothes, put on her own Sunday gown, and sat down to wait +for Marian and the visitor. The morning passed slowly, in momentary +expectation of an arrival. + +It was near eleven o'clock when she looked up and saw Colonel Thornton's +carriage approaching the cottage. + +"There! I said so! I knew Marian had remained with Miss Thornton, and +that they would bring her home this morning. I suppose Colonel Thornton +and his sister are both with her! And now for the revelation! I wonder +what it is," said Edith, smiling to herself, as she arose and stroked +down her dress, and smoothed her ringlets, preparatory to meeting her +guests. + +By this time the carriage had drawn up before the cottage gate. Edith +went out just in time to see the door opened, and Miss Thornton alight. +The lady was alone--that Edith saw at the first glance. + +"What can be the meaning of this?" she asked herself, as she went +forward to welcome her visitor. + +But Miss Thornton was very pale and tremulous, and she acted altogether +strangely. + +"How do you do, Miss Thornton? I am very glad to see you," said Edith, +cordially offering her hand. + +But the lady seized it, and drew her forcibly towards the door, saying +in a husky voice: + +"Come in--come in!" + +Full of surprise, Edith followed her. + +"Sit down," she continued, sinking into a chair, and pointing to a +vacant one by her side. + +Edith took the seat, and waited in wonder for her further speech. + +"Where is Marian?" asked Miss Thornton, in an agitated voice. + +"Where? Why, I believed her to be at your house!" answered Edith, in +surprise and vague fear. + +"Good heaven!" exclaimed the lady, growing very pale, and trembling in +every limb. Edith started up in alarm. + +"Miss Thornton, what do you mean? For mercy's sake, tell me, has +anything happened?" + +"I do not know--I am not sure--I trust not--tell me! when did you see +her last? When did she leave home? this morning?" + +"No! last evening, about sundown." + +"And she has not returned? You have not seen her since?" + +"No!" + +"Did she tell you where she was going?" + +"No!" + +"Did she promise to come back? and when?" + +"She promised to return before dark! She did not do so! I judged the +storm had detained her, and that she was with you, and I felt easy." + +"Oh, God!" cried the lady, in a voice of deep distress, + +"Miss Thornton! for Heaven's sake! tell me what has occurred!" + +"Oh, Edith!" + +"In mercy, explain yourself--Marian! what of Marian?" + +"Oh, God, sustain you, Edith! what can I say to you? my own heart is +lacerated!" + +"Marian! Marian! oh! what has happened to Marian! Oh! where is Marian?" + +"I had hoped to find her here after all! else I had not found courage to +come!" + +"Miss Thornton, this is cruel--" + +"Ah! poor Edith! what you required to be told is far more cruel. Oh, +Edith! pray Heaven for fortitude?" + +"I have fortitude for anything but suspense. Oh, Heaven, Miss Thornton, +relieve this suspense, or I shall suffocate!" + +"Edith! Edith!" said the lady, going up and putting her arms around the +fragile form of the young widow, as to shield and support her. "Oh, +Edith! I heard a report this morning--and it may be but a report--I pray +Heaven, that it is no more--" + +"Oh, go on! what was it?" + +"That, that last evening on the beach during the storm, Marian +Mayfield--" Miss Thornton's voice choked. + +"Oh, speak; for mercy speak! What of Marian?" + +"That Marian Mayfield had been waylaid, and--" + +"Murdered! Oh, God!" cried Edith, as her over-strained nerves relaxed, +and she sank in the arms of Miss Thornton. + +A child's wild, frenzied shriek resounded through the house. It was the +voice of Miriam. + + * * * * * + +At Luckenough that morning, the remains of the unfortunate Dr. Grimshaw +were laid out preparatory to burial. Jacquelina, in a bewildered stupor +of remorse, wandered vaguely from room to room, seeking rest and finding +none. "I have caused a fellow creature's death!" That was the envenomed +thought that corroded her heart's centre. From her bosom, too, peace had +fled. It was near noon when the news of Marian's fate reached +Luckenough, and overwhelmed the family with consternation and grief. + +But Jacquelina! the effect of the tragic tale on her was nearly fatal. +She understood the catastrophe, as no one else could! She knew who +struck the fatal blow, and when and why, and under what mistake it was +struck! She felt that another crime, another death lay heavy on her +soul! It was too much! oh! it was too much! No human heart nor brain +could sustain the crushing burden, and the poor lost elf fell into +convulsions that threatened soon to terminate in death. There was no +raving, no talking; in all her frenzy, the fatal secret weighing on her +bosom did not then transpire. + + * * * * * + +Before the day was out the whole county was in an uproar. Never had any +event of the neighborhood created so high an excitement or so profound a +sympathy. Great horror and amazement filled every bosom. A county +meeting spontaneously convened, and handbills were printed, large +rewards offered, and every means taken to secure the discovery of the +criminal. In the deep, absorbing sympathy for Marian's fate, the sudden +death of Professor Grimshaw, and the reasonably-to-be-expected demise of +old Mr. Cloudesley Willcoxen, passed nearly unnoticed, and were soon +forgotten. Among the most zealous in the pursuit of the unknown murderer +was Thurston Willcoxen; but the ghastly pallor of his countenance, the +wildness of his eyes, and the distraction of his manner, often varied by +fits of deep and sullen despair, excited the surprise and conjecture of +all who looked upon him. + +Days passed and still no light was thrown upon the mystery. About a +fortnight after the catastrophe, however, information was brought to the +neighborhood that the corpse of a woman, answering to the description of +Marian, had been washed ashore some miles down the coast, but had been +interred by the fishermen, the day after its discovery. Many gentlemen +hurried down to the spot, and further investigation confirmed the +general opinion that the body was that of the martyred girl. + + * * * * * + +Three weeks after this, Edith lay upon her deathbed. Her delicate frame +never recovered this last great shock. A few days before her death she +called Miriam to her bedside. The child approached; she was sadly +altered within the last few weeks; incessant weeping had dimmed her +splendid eyes, and paled her brilliant cheeks. + +"Sit down upon the bed by me, my daughter," said Edith. + +The child climbed up and took the indicated seat. Something of that +long-smothered fire, which had once braved the fury of the British +soldiers, kindled in the dying woman's eyes. + +"Miriam, you are nearly nine years old in time, and much older than that +in thought and feeling. Miriam, your mother has not many days to live; +but in dying, she leaves you a sacred trust to be fulfilled. My child, +do you follow and understand me?" + +"Yes, mamma." + +"Do not weep; tears are vain and idle. There was an injured queen once +whose tears were turned to sparks of fire. So I would have yours to +turn! She came among us a young stranger girl, without fortune or +position, or any of the usual stepping-stones to social consideration. +Yet see what influence, what power she soon obtained, and what reforms +and improvements she soon effected. The county is rich in the monuments +of her young wisdom and angelic goodness. All are indebted to her; but +none so deeply as you and I. All are bound to seek out and punish her +destroyer; but none so strongly as you and I. Others have pursued the +search for the murderer with great zeal for a while; we must make that +search the one great object of our lives. Upon us devolve the right and +the duty to avenge her death by bringing her destroyer to the scaffold. +Miriam, do you hear--do you hear and understand me?" + +"Yes, mamma; yes." + +"Child, listen to me! I have a clue to Marian's murderer!" + +Miriam started, and attended breathlessly. + +"My love, it was no poor waterman or fugitive negro, tempted by want or +cupidity. It was a gentleman, Miriam." + +"A gentleman?" + +"Yes; one that she must have become acquainted with during her visit to +Washington three years ago. Oh, I remember her unaccountable distress in +the months that followed that visit! His name, or his assumed name, +was--attend, Miriam!--Thomas Truman." + +"Thomas Truman!" + +"Yes; and while you live, remember that name, until its owner hangs upon +the gallows!" + +Miriam shuddered, and hid her pale face in her hands. + +"Here," said Edith, taking a small packet of letters from under her +pillow. "Here, Miriam, is a portion of her correspondence with this man, +Thomas Truman--I found it in the secret drawer of her bureau. There are +several notes entreating her to give him a meeting, on the beach, at +Mossy Dell, and at other points. From the tenor of these notes, I am led +to believe that she refused these meetings; and, more than that, from +the style of one in particular I am induced to suppose that she might +have been privately married to that man. Why he should have enticed her +to that spot to destroy her life, I do not know. But this, at least, I +know: that our dearest Marian has been basely assassinated. I see reason +to suppose the assassin to have been her lover, or her husband, and that +his real or assumed name was Thomas Truman. These facts, and this little +packet of notes and letters, are all that I have to offer as testimony. +But by following a slight clue, we are sometimes led to great +discoveries." + +"Why didn't you show them to the gentlemen, dear mamma? They might have +found out something by them." + +"I showed them to Thurston Willcoxen, who has been so energetic in the +pursuit of the unknown murderer; but Thurston became so violently +agitated that I thought he must have fallen. And he wished very much to +retain those letters, but I would not permit them to be carried out of +my sight. When he became calmer, however, he assured me that there could +be no possible connection between the writer of these notes and the +murderer of the unfortunate girl. I, however, think differently. I think +there is a connection, and even an identity; and I think this packet may +be the means of bringing the criminal to justice; and I leave it--a +sacred trust--in your charge, Miriam. Guard it well; guard it as your +only treasure, until it has served its destined purpose. And now, +Miriam, do you know the nature of a vow?" + +"Yes, mamma." + +"Do you understand its solemnity--its obligation, its inviolability?" + +"I think I do, mamma." + +"Do you know that in the performance of your vow, if necessary, no toil, +no privation, no suffering of mind or body, no dearest interest of your +life, no strongest affection of your soul, but must be sacrificed; do +you comprehend all this?" + +"Yes, mamma; I knew it before, and I have read of Jeptha and his +daughter." + +"Now, Miriam, kneel down, fold your hands, and give them to me between +my own. Look into my eyes. I want you to make a vow to God and to your +dying mother, to avenge the death of Marian. Will you bind your soul by +such an obligation?" + +The child was magnetized by the thrilling eyes that gazed deep into her +own. She answered: + +"Yes, mamma." + +"You vow in the sight of God and all his holy angels, that, as you hope +for salvation, you will devote your life with all your faculties of mind +and body, to the discovery and punishment of Marian's murderer; and also +that you will live a maiden until you become and avenger." + +"I vow." + +"Swear that no afterthoughts shall tempt you to falter; that happen what +may in the changing years, you will not hesitate; that though your +interests and affections should intervene, you will not suffer them to +retard you in your purpose; that no effort, no sacrifice, no privation, +no suffering of mind or body shall be spared, if needful, to the +accomplishment of your vow." + +"I swear." + +"You will do it! You are certain to discover the murderer, and clear up +the mystery." + +The mental excitement that had carried Edith through this scene +subsided, and left her very weak, so that when Thurston Willcoxen soon +after called to see her, she was unable to receive him. + +The next morning, however, Thurston repeated his visit, and was brought +to the bedside of the invalid. + +Thurston was frightfully changed, the sufferings of the last month +seemed to have made him old--his countenance was worn, his voice hollow, +and his manner abstracted and uncertain. + +"Edith," he asked, as he took the chair near her head, "do you feel +stronger this morning?" + +"Yes--I always do in the forenoon" + +"Do you feel well enough to talk of Miriam and her future?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"What do you propose to do with her?" + +"I shall leave her to Aunt Henrietta--she will never let the child +want." + +"But Mrs. Waugh is quite an old lady now. Jacquelina is insane, the +commodore and Mrs. L'Oiseau scarcely competent to take care of +themselves--and Luckenough a sad, unpromising home for a little girl." + +"I know it--oh! I know it; why do you speak of it, since I can do no +otherwise?" + +"To point out how you may do otherwise, dear Edith. It would have been +cruel to mention it else." + +She looked up at him with surprise and inquiry. + +"Edith, you have known me from my boyhood. You know what I am. Will you +leave your orphan daughter to me? You look at me in wonder; but listen, +dear Edith, and then decide. Marian--dear martyred saint! loved that +child as her own. And I loved Marian--loved her as I had never dreamed +it possible for heart to love--I cannot speak of this! it deprives me of +reason," he said, suddenly covering his eyes with his hands, while a +spasm agitated his worn face. In a few minutes he resumed. + +"Look at me, Edith! the death of Marian has brought me to what you see! +My youth has melted away like a morning mist. I have not an object in +life except to carry out purposes which were dear to her benevolent +heart, and which her sudden death has left incomplete. I have not an +affection in the world except that which comes through her. I should +love this child dearly, and cherish her devotedly for Marian's sake. I +shall never change my bachelor life--but I should like to legally adopt +little Miriam. I should give her the best educational advantages, and +make her the co-heir with my young brother, Paul Douglass, of all I +possess. Say, Edith, can you trust your child to me?" He spoke +earnestly, fervently, taking her hand and pressing it, and gazing +pleadingly into her eyes. + +"So you loved Marian--I even judged so when I saw you labor hardest of +all for the apprehension of the criminal. Oh, many loved her as much as +you! Colonel Thornton, Dr. Weismann, Judge Gordon, Mr. Barnwell, all +adored her! Ah! she was worthy of it." + +"No more of that, dear Edith, it will overcome us both; but tell me if +you will give me your little girl?" + +"Dear Thurston, your proposal is as strange and unusual as it is +generous. I thank you most sincerely, but you must give me time to look +at it and think of it. You are sincere, you are in earnest, you mean all +you say. I see that in your face; but I must reflect and take counsel +upon such an important step. Go now, dear Thurston, and return to me at +this hour to-morrow morning." + +Thurston pressed her hand and departed. + +The same day Edith had a visit from Mrs. Waugh, Miss Thornton and other +friends. And after consulting with them upon the proposal that had been +made her, she decided to leave Miriam in the joint guardianship of Mrs. +Waugh and Thurston Willcoxen. + +And this decision was made known to Thurston when he called the next +morning. + +A few days after this Edith passed to the world of spirits. And Thurston +took the orphan child to his own heart and home. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +IN MERRY ENGLAND. + + +When Marian recovered consciousness she found herself on board ship and +a lady attending to her wants. When she was at last able to ask how she +came there the lady nurse told the following story: + +"On the evening of Holy Thursday, about the time the storm arose, our +vessel lay to opposite a place on St. Mary's coast, called Pine Bluff, +and the mate put off in a boat to land a passenger; as they neared the +shore they met another boat rowed by two men, who seemed so anxious to +escape observation, as to row away as fast as they could without +answering our boat's salute. Our mate thought very strange of it at the +time; but the mysterious boat was swiftly hid in the darkness, and our +boat reached the land. The mate and his man had to help to carry the +passenger's trunks up to the top of the bluff, and a short distance +beyond, where a carriage was kept waiting for him, and after they had +parted from him, they returned down the bluff by a shorter though +steeper way; and just as they reached the beach, in the momentary lull +of the storm, they heard groans. Immediately the men connected those +sounds with the strange boat they had seen row away, and they raised the +wick in the lantern, and threw its light around, and soon discovered you +upon the sands, moaning, though nearly insensible. They naturally +concluded that you had been the victim of the men in the boat, who were +probably pirates. Their first impulse was to pursue the carriage, and +get you placed within it, and taken to some farmhouse for assistance; +but a moment's reflection convinced them that such a plan was futile, as +it was impossible to overtake the carriage. There was also no house near +the coast. They thought it likely that you were a stranger to that part +of the country. And in the hurry and agitation of the moment, they could +devise nothing better than to put you in the boat, and bring you on +board this vessel. That is the way you came here." + +The grateful gaze of Marian thanked the lady, and she asked: + +"Tell me the name of my angel nurse." + +"Rachel Holmes," answered the lady, blushing gently. "My husband is a +surgeon in the United States army. He is on leave of absence now for the +purpose of taking me home to see my father and mother--they live in +London. I am of English parentage." + +Marian feebly pressed her hand, and then said: + +"You are very good to ask me no questions, and I thank you with all my +heart; for, dear lady, I can tell you nothing." + +The next day the vessel which had put into New York Harbor on call, +sailed for Liverpool. + +Marian slowly improved. Her purposes were not very clear or strong +yet--mental and physical suffering and exhaustion had temporarily +weakened and obscured her mind. Her one strong impulse was to escape, to +get away from the scenes of such painful associations and memories, and +to go home, to take refuge in her own native land. The thought of +returning to Maryland, to meet the astonishment, the wonder, the +conjectures, the inquiries, and perhaps the legal investigation that +might lead to the exposure and punishment of Thurston, was insupportable +to her heart. No, no! rather let the width of the ocean divide her from +all those horrors. Undoubtedly her friends believed her dead--let it be +so--let her remain as dead to them. She should leave no kindred behind +her, to suffer by her loss--should wrong no human being. True, there +were Miriam and Edith! But that her heart was exhausted by its one +great, all-consuming grief, it must have bled for them! Yet they had +already suffered all they could possibly suffer from the supposition of +her death--it was now three weeks since they had reason to believe her +dead, and doubtless kind Nature had already nursed them into resignation +and calmness, that would in time become cheerfulness. If she should go +back, there would be the shock, the amazement, the questions, the +prosecutions, perhaps the conviction, and the sentence, and the horrors +of a state prison for one the least hair of whose head she could not +willingly hurt; and then her own early death, or should she survive, her +blighted life. Could these consequences console or benefit Edith or +Miriam? No, no, they would augment grief. It was better to leave things +as they were--better to remain dead to them--a dead sorrow might be +forgotten--living one never! For herself, it was better to take fate as +she found it--to go home to England, and devote her newly restored life, +and her newly acquired fortune, to those benevolent objects that had so +lately occupied so large a share of her heart. Some means also should be +found--when she should grow stronger, and her poor head should be +clearer, so that she should be able to think--to make Edith and Miriam +the recipients of all the benefit her wealth could possibly confer upon +them. And so in recollecting, meditating, planning, and trying to reason +correctly, and to understand her embarrassed position, and her difficult +duty, passed the days of her convalescence. As her mind cleared, the +thought of Angelica began to give her uneasiness--she could not bear to +think of leaving that young lady exposed to the misfortune of becoming +Thurston's wife--and her mind toiled with the difficult problem of how +to shield Angelica without exposing Thurston. + +A few days after this, Marian related to her kind friends all of her +personal history that she could impart, without compromising the safety +of others: and she required and received from them the promise of their +future silence in regard to her fate. + +As they approached the shores of England, Marian improved so fast as to +be able to go on deck. And though extremely pale and thin, she could no +longer be considered an invalid, when, on the thirtieth day out, their +ship entered the mouth of the Mersey. Upon their arrival at Liverpool, +it had been the intention of Dr. Holmes and his wife to proceed to +London; but now they decided to delay a few hours until they should see +Marian safe in the house of her friends. The Rev. Theodore Burney was a +retired dissenting clergyman, living on his modest patrimony in a +country house a few miles out of Liverpool, and now at eighty years +enjoying a hale old age. Dr. Holmes took a chaise and carried Marian and +Rachel out to the place. The house was nearly overgrown with climbing +vines, and the grounds were beautiful with the early spring verdure and +flowers. The old man was overjoyed to meet Marian, and he received her +with a father's welcome. He thanked her friends for their care and +attention, and pressed them to come and stay several days or weeks. But +Dr. Holmes and Rachel simply explained that their visit was to their +parents in London, which city they were anxious to reach as soon as +possible, and, thanking their host, they took leave of him, of his old +wife, and Marian, and departed. + +The old minister looked hard at Marian. + +"You are pale, my dear. Well, I always heard that our fresh island roses +withered in the dry heat of the American climate, and now I know it! But +come! we shall soon see a change and what wonders native air and native +manners and morning walks will work in the way of restoring bloom." + +Marian did not feel bound to reply, and her ill health remained charged +to the account of our unlucky atmosphere. + +The next morning, the old gentleman took Marian into his library, told +her once more how very little surprised, and how very glad he was that +instead of writing, she had come in person. He then made her acquainted +with certain documents, and informed her that it would be necessary she +should go up to London, and advised her to do so just as soon as she +should feel herself sufficiently rested. Marian declared herself to be +already recovered of fatigue, and anxious to proceed with the business +of settlement. Their journey was thereupon fixed for the second day from +that time. And upon the appointed morning Marian, attended by the old +clergyman, set out for the mammoth capital, where, in due season, they +arrived. A few days were busily occupied amid the lumber of law +documents, before Marian felt sufficiently at ease to advise her +friends, the Holmeses, of her presence in town. Only a few hours had +elapsed, after reading her note and address, before she received a call +from Mrs. Holmes and her father, Dr. Coleman, a clergyman of high +standing in the Church of England. Friendliness and a beautiful +simplicity characterized the manners of both father and daughter. Rachel +entreated Marian to return with her and make her father's house her home +while in London. She spoke with an affectionate sincerity that Marian +could neither doubt nor resist, and when Dr. Coleman cordially seconded +his daughter's invitation, Marian gratefully accepted the proffered +hospitality. And the same day Mr. Burney bade a temporary farewell to +his favorite, and departed for Liverpool, and Marian accompanied her +friend Rachel Holmes to the house of Dr. Coleman. + + * * * * * + +We may not pause to trace minutely the labors of love in which Marian +sought at once to forget her own existence and to bless that of others. + +A few events only it will be necessary to record. + +In the very first packet of Baltimore papers received by Dr. Holmes, +Marian saw announced the marriage of Angelica Le Roy to Henry Barnwell. +She knew by the date, that it took place within two weeks after she +sailed from the shores of America. And her anxiety on that young lady's +account was set at rest. + +After a visit of two months, Dr. Holmes and his lovely wife prepared to +return to the United States. And the little fortune that Marian intended +to settle upon Edith and Miriam, was intrusted to the care of the worthy +surgeon, to be invested in bank stock for their benefit, as soon as he +should reach Baltimore. It was arranged that the donor should remain +anonymous, or be known only as a friend of Miriam's father. + +In the course of a few months, Marian's institution, "The Children's +Home," was commenced, and before the end of the first year, it was +completed and filled with inmates. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +THURSTON. + + +After a stormy passage in life comes a long calm, preceding, perhaps, +another storm. I must pass rapidly over several years. + +Thurston was a new being. He resolved to devote his time, talents and +means, first of all to carrying on and perfecting those works of +education and reform started by Marian in his own neighborhood. + +But this was a very mournful consolation, for in every thought and act +of the whole work, the memory of Marian was so intimately woven, that +her loss was felt with double keenness. Every effort was doubly +difficult; every obstacle was doubly great; every discouragement doubly +hopeless, because she was not there with her very presence inspiring +hope and energy--and every success was robbed of its joy, because she +was not there to rejoice with him. He missed her in all things; he +missed her everywhere. Solitude had fallen upon all the earth from which +she had passed away. Because her face was gone, all other faces were +repulsive to his sight; because her voice was silent, all other voices +were discordant to his ear; because her love was impossible, all other +friendships and affections were repugnant to his heart; and Thurston, +young, handsome, accomplished and wealthy, became a silent and lonely +man. + +The estate left by old Cloudesley Willcoxen had exceeded even the +reports of his hoarded wealth. The whole estate, real and personal, was +bequeathed to his eldest grandson, Thurston Willcoxen, upon the sole +condition that it should not be divided. + +Dell-Delight, with its natural beauties, was a home that wealth could +convert into a material paradise. Once it had been one of Thurston's +happiest dreams to adorn and beautify the matchless spot, and make it +worthy of Marian, its intended mistress. Now he could not bear to think +of those plans of home-beauty and happiness so interwoven with fond +thoughts of her. So poignant were the wounds of association, that he +could scarcely endure to remain in a neighborhood so filled with +reminiscences of her; and he must have fled the scene, and taken refuge +from memory in foreign travel, had he suffered from bereavement and +sorrow only; but he was tortured by remorse, and remorse demands to +suffer and to atone for sin. And, therefore, though it spiritually +seemed like being bound to a wheel and broken by its every turn, he was +true to his resolution to remain in the county and devote his time, +wealth, and abilities to the completion of Marian's unfinished works of +benevolence. + +Dell-Delight remained unaltered. He could not bear to make it beautiful, +since Marian could not enjoy its beauty. Only such changes were made as +were absolutely necessary in organizing his little household. A distant +relative, a middle-aged lady of exemplary piety, but of reduced fortune, +was engaged to come and preside at his table, and take charge of +Miriam's education, for Miriam was established at Dell-Delight. It is +true that Mrs. Waugh would have wished this arrangement otherwise. She +would have preferred to have the orphan girl with herself, but Commodore +Waugh would not even hear of Miriam's coming to Luckenough with any +patience--"For if her mother had married 'Grim,' none of these +misfortunes would have happened," he said. + +Even Jacquelina had been forced to fly from Luckenough; no one knew +wither; some said that she had run away; some knew that she had retired +to a convent; some said only to escape the din and turmoil of the world, +and find rest to her soul in a few months or years of quiet and silence, +and some said she had withdrawn for the purpose of taking the vows and +becoming a nun. Mrs. Waugh knew all about it, but she said nothing, +except to discourage inquiry upon the subject. In the midst of the +speculation following Jacquelina's disappearance, Cloudesley Mornington +had come home. He staid a day or two at Luckenough, a week at +Dell-Delight, and then took himself, with his broken heart, off from the +neighborhood, and got ordered upon a distant and active service. + +There were also other considerations that rendered it desirable for +Miriam to reside at Dell-Delight, rather than at Luckenough: Commodore +Waugh would have made a terrible guardian to a child so lately used to +the blessedness of a home with her mother--and withal, so shy and +sensitive as to breathe freely only in an atmosphere of peace and +affection, and Luckenough would have supplied a dark, and dreary home +for her whose melancholy temperament and recent bereavements rendered +change of scene and the companionship of other children, absolute +necessities. It was for these several reasons that Mrs. Waugh was forced +to consent that Thurston should carry his little adopted daughter to his +own home. Thurston's household consisted now of himself, Mrs. Morris, +his housekeeper; Alice Morris, her daughter; Paul Douglass, his own +half-brother; poor Fanny, and lastly, Miriam. + +Mrs. Morris was a lady of good family, but decayed fortune, of sober +years and exemplary piety. In closing her terms with Mr. Willcoxen, her +one great stipulation had been that she should bring her daughter, whom +she declared to be too "young and giddy" to be trusted out of her own +sight, even to a good boarding school. + +Mr. Willcoxen expressed himself rather pleased than otherwise at the +prospect of Miriam's having a companion, and so the engagement was +closed. + +Alice Morris was a hearty, cordial, blooming hoyden, really about ten or +eleven years of age, but seeming from her fine growth and proportions, +at least thirteen or fourteen. + +Paul Douglass was a fine, handsome, well-grown boy of fourteen, with an +open, manly forehead, shaded with clustering, yellow curls, as soft and +silky as a girl's, and a full, beaming, merry blue eye, whose flashing +glances were the most mirth-provoking to all upon whom they chanced to +light. Paul was, and ever since his first arrival in the house had been, +"the life of the family." His merry laugh and shout were the pleasantest +sounds in all the precincts of Dell-Delight. When Paul first heard that +there was to be an invasion of "women and girls" into Dell-Delight, he +declared he had rather there had been an irruption of the Goths and +Vandals at once--for if there were any folks he could not get along +with, they were "the gals." Besides which, he was sure now to have the +coldest seat around the fire, the darkest place at the table, the +backward ride in the carriage, and to get the necks of chickens and the +tails of fishes for his share of the dinner. Boys were always put upon +by the girls, and sorry enough he was, he said, that any were coming to +the house. And he vowed a boyish vow--"by thunder and lightning"--that +he would torment the girls to the very best of his ability. + +Girls, forsooth! girls coming to live there day and night, and eat, and +drink, and sleep, and sit, and sew, and walk up and down through the +halls, and parlors, and chambers of Dell-Delight--girls, with their +airs, and affectations, and pretensions, and exactions--girls--pah! the +idea was perfectly disgusting and offensive. He really did wonder at +"Brother," but then he already considered "Brother" something of an old +bachelor, and old bachelors would be queer. + +But Thurston well knew how to smite the rock, and open the fountain of +sympathy in the lad's heart. He said nothing in reply to the boy's saucy +objections, but on the evening that little Miriam arrived, he beckoned +Paul into the parlor, where the child sat, alone, and pointing her out +to him, said in a low tone: + +"Look at her; she has lost all her friends--she has just come from her +mother's grave--she is strange, and sad, and lonesome. Go, try to amuse +her." + +"I'm going to her, though I hardly know how," replied the lad, moving +toward the spot where the abstracted child sat deeply musing. + +"Miriam! Is that your name," he asked, by way of opening the +conversation. + +"Yes," replied the child, very softly and shyly. + +"It's a very heathenish--oh, Lord!--I mean it's a very pretty name is +Miriam, it's a Bible name, too. I don't know but what it's a saint's +name also." + +The little girl made no reply, and the boy felt at a loss what to say +next. After fidgeting from one foot to the other he began again. + +"Miriam, shall I show you my books--Scott's poems, and the Waverley +novels, and Milton's Paradise, and--" + +"No, I thank you," interrupted the girl, uneasily. + +"Well, would you like to see my pictures--two volumes of engravings, and +a portfolio full of sketches?" + +"No, thank you." + +"Shall I bring you my drawer full of minerals? I have got--" + +"I don't want them, please." + +"Well, then, would you like the dried bugs? I've got whole cards of them +under a glass case, and--" + +"I don't want them either, please." + +"Dear me! I have not got anything else to amuse you with. What do you +want?" exclaimed Paul, and he walked off in high dudgeon. + +The next day fortune favored Paul in his efforts to please Miriam. He +had a tame white rabbit, and he thought that the child would like it for +a pet--so he got up very early in the morning, and washed the rabbit +"clean as a new penny," and put it under a new box to get dry while he +rode to C---- and bought a blue ribbon to tie around its neck. This jaunt +made Paul very late at breakfast, but he felt rewarded when afterward he +gave the rabbit to old Jenny, and asked her to give it to the little +girl--and when he heard the latter say--"Oh, what a pretty little thing! +tell Paul, thanky!" After this, by slow degrees, he was enabled to +approach "the little blackbird" without alarming her. And after a while +he coaxed her to take a row in his little boat, and a ride on his little +pony--always qualifying his attentions by saying that he did not like +girls as a general thing, but that she was different from others. And +Mr. Willcoxen witnessed, with much satisfaction, the growing friendship +between the girl and boy, for they were the two creatures in the world +who divided all the interest he felt in life. The mutual effect of the +children upon each other's characters was very beneficent; the gay and +joyous spirits of Paul continually charmed Miriam away from those fits +of melancholy, to which she was by temperament and circumstances a prey, +while the little girl's shyness and timidity taught Paul to tame his own +boisterous manners for her sake. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Waugh had not forgotten her young _protége_. She came as often as +possible to Dell-Delight, to inquire after the health and progress of +the little girl. + +It is not to be supposed, in any neighborhood where there existed +managing mammas and unmarried daughters, that a young gentleman, +handsome, accomplished, wealthy, and of good repute, should remain +unmolested in his bachelorhood. Indeed, the matrons and maidens of his +own circle seemed to think themselves individually aggrieved by the +young heir's mode of life. And many were the dinners and evening parties +got up for his sake, in vain, for to their infinite disgust, Thurston +always returned an excuse instead of an acceptance. + +At length the wounded self-esteem of the community received a healing +salve, in the form of a report that Mr. Willcoxen had withdrawn from the +gay world, in order the better to prepare himself for the Christian +ministry. A report that, in twelve months, received its confirmation in +the well established fact that Thurston Willcoxen was a candidate for +holy orders. + +And in the meantime the young guardian did not neglect his youthful +charge, but in strict interpretation of his assumed duties of +guardianship, he had taken the education of the girl and boy under his +own personal charge. + +"Many hard-working ministers of the Gospel have received pupils to +educate for hire. Why may not I, with more time at my command, reserve +the privilege of educating my own adopted son and daughter," he said, +and acting upon that thought, had fitted up a little school-room +adjoining his library, where, in the presence of Mrs. Morris, Miriam and +Paul pursued their studies, Mrs. Morris hearing such recitations as lay +within her province, and Mr. Willcoxen attending to the classical and +mathematical branches. Thus passed many months, and every month the +hearts of the children were knitted closer to each other and to their +guardian. + +And Thurston Willcoxen "grew in favor, with God and man." His name +became the synonym for integrity, probity and philanthropy. He built a +church and a free-school, and supported both at his own expense. In the +third year after entering upon his inheritance, he was received into +holy orders; and two years after, he was elected pastor of his native +parish. Thus time went by, and brought at length the next eventful epoch +of our domestic history--that upon which Miriam completed her sixteenth +year. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +MIRIAM. + + +Six years had passed away. Thurston Willcoxen was the most beloved and +honored man, as well as the most distinguished clergyman of his day and +state. His church was always crowded, except when he changed with some +brother minister, whose pulpit was within reach--in which case, a great +portion of his congregation followed him. Many flattering "calls" had +the gifted and eloquent country parson received to metropolitan +parishes; but he remained the faithful shepherd of his own flock as long +as they would hear his voice. + +As Miriam grew into womanhood prudence kept her silent on the subject of +her strange vow. She, however, preserved in her memory the slight +indexes that she already had in possession--namely, beginning with +Marian's return after her visit to Washington--her changed manner, her +fits of reverie, her melancholy when she returned empty-handed from the +post-office, her joy when she received letters, which she would read in +secret and in silence, or when questioned concerning them, would gently +but firmly decline to tell from whom or whence they came; the +house-warming at Luckenough, where Marian suddenly became so bright and +gay, and the evening succeeding, when she returned home through night +and storm, and in such anguish of mind, that she wept all night; and the +weeks of unexplained, unaccountable distress that followed this! All +these things Miriam recalled, and studied if by any means they might +direct her in the discovery of the guilty. + +And her faithful study had ended in her assurance of one or two +facts--or one or two links, perhaps, we should say, in the chain of +evidence. The first was, that Marian's mysterious lover had been present +in the neighborhood, and perhaps, in the mansion at the time of the +house-warming at Luckenough--that he had met her once or more, and that +his name was not Thomas Truman--that the latter was an assumed name, +for, with all her observation and astute investigation, she had not been +able to find that any one of the name of Truman had ever been seen or +heard of in the county. + +She was sure, also, that she had seen the man twice, both times in night +and storm, when she had wandered forth in search of Marian. + +She remembered well the strange figure of that man--the tall form +shrouded in the black cloak--the hat drawn over the eyes--the faint +spectral gleam of the clear-cut profile--the peculiar fall of light and +shade, the decided individuality of air and gait--all was distinct as a +picture in her memory, and she felt sure that she would be able to +identify that man again. + +Up to this time, the thought of her secret vow, and her life's mission, +had afforded only a romantic and heroic excitement; but the day was fast +approaching when these indexes she retained, should point to a clue that +should lead through a train of damning circumstantial evidence destined +to test her soul by an unexampled trial. + +Paul Douglass had grown up to be a tall and handsome youth, of a very +noble, frank, attractive countenance and manners. To say that he loved +Miriam is only to say that he loved himself. She mingled with every +thought, and feeling, and purpose of his heart. + +And when, at last, the time came that Paul had to leave home for +Baltimore, to remain absent all winter, for the purpose of attending the +course of lectures at the medical college, Miriam learned the pain of +parting, and understood how impossible happiness would be for her, with +Paul away, on naval or military duty, more than half their lives, and +for periods of two, three, or five years; and after that she never said +another word in favor of his wearing Uncle Sam's livery, although she +had often expressed a wish that he should enter the army. + +Miriam's affection for Paul was so profound and quiet, that she did not +know its depth or strength. As she had not believed that parting from +him would be painful until the event had taught her, so even now she did +not know how intertwined with every chord and fibre of her heart and how +identical with her life, was her love for Paul. She was occupied by a +more enthusiastic devotion to her "brother," as she called her guardian. + +The mysterious sorrow, the incurable melancholy of a man like Thurston +Willcoxen, could not but invest him with peculiar interest and even +strange fascination for one of Miriam's enthusiastic, earnest +temperament. She loved him with more than a daughter's love; she loved +him with all the impassioned earnestness of her nature; her heart +yearned as it would break with its wild, intense longing to do him some +good, to cure his sorrow, to make him happy. There were moments when but +for the sweet shyness that is ever the attendant and conservator of such +pure feeling, this wild desire was strong enough to cast her at his +feet, to embrace his knees, and with tears beseech him to let her into +that dark, sorrowful bosom, to see if she could make any light and joy +there. She feared that he had sinned, that his incurable sorrow was the +gnawing tooth of that worm that never dieth, preying on his heart; but +she doubted, too, for what could he have done to plunge his soul in such +a hell of remorse? He commit a crime? Impossible! the thought was +treason; a sin to be repented of and expiated. His fame was fairest of +the fair, his name most honored among the, honorable. If not remorse, +what then was the nature of his life-long sorrow? Many, many times she +revolved this question in her mind. And as she matured in thought and +affection, the question grew more earnest and importunate. Oh, that he +would unburden his heart to her; oh! that she might share and alleviate +his griefs. If "all earnest desires are prayers," then prayer was +Miriam's "vital breath and native air" indeed; her soul earnestly +desired, prayed, to be able to give her sorrowing brother peace. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +DREAMS AND VISIONS. + + +Winter waned. Mrs. Waugh had attended the commodore to the South, for +the benefit of his health, and they had not yet returned. + +Mrs. Morris and Alice were absent on a long visit to a relative in +Washington City, and were not expected back for a month. Paul remained +in Baltimore, attending the medical lectures. + +The house at Dell-Delight was very sad and lonely. The family consisted +of only Thurston, Fanny and Miriam. + +A change had also passed over poor Fanny's malady. She was no longer the +quaint, fantastical creature, half-lunatic, half-seeress, singing +snatches of wild songs through the house--now here, now there--now +everywhere, awaking smiles and merriment in spite of pity, and keeping +every one alive about her. Her bodily health had failed, her animal +spirits departed; she never sang nor smiled, but sat all day in her +eyrie chamber, lost in deep and concentrated study, her face having the +care-worn look of one striving to recall the past, to gather up and +reunite the broken links of thought, memory and understanding. + +At last, one day, Miriam received a letter from Paul, announcing the +termination, of the winter's course of lectures, the conclusion of the +examination of medical candidates, the successful issue of his own +trial, in the acquisition of his diploma, and finally his speedy return +home. + +Miriam's impulsive nature rebounded from all depressing thoughts, and +she looked forward with gladness to the arrival of Paul. + +He came toward the last of the week. + +Mr. Willcoxen, roused for a moment from his sad abstraction, gave the +youth a warm welcome. + +Miriam received him with a bashful, blushing joy. + +He had passed through Washington City on his way home, and had spent a +day with Mrs. Morris and her friends, and he had brought away strange +news of them. + +Alice, he said, had an accepted suitor, and would probably be a bride +soon. + +A few days after his return, Paul found Miriam in the old wainscoted +parlor seated by the fire. She appeared to be in deep and painful +thought. Her elbow rested on the circular work-table, her head was bowed +upon her hand, and her face was concealed by the drooping black +ringlets. + +"What is the matter, dear, sister?" he asked, in that tender, familiar +tone, with which he sometimes spoke to her. + +"Oh, Paul, I am thinking of our brother! Can nothing soothe or cheer +him, Paul? Can nothing help him? Can we do him no good at all? Oh, Paul! +I brood so much over his trouble! I long so much to comfort him, that I +do believe it is beginning to affect my reason, and make me 'see visions +and dream dreams.' Tell me--do you think anything can be done for him?" + +"Ah, I do not know! I have just left his study, dear Miriam, where I +have had a long and serious conversation with him." + +"And what was it about? May I know?" + +"You must know, dearest Miriam, it concerned yourself and--me!" said +Paul, and he took a seat by her side, and told her how much he loved +her, and that he had Thurston's consent to asking her hand in marriage. + +Miriam replied: + +"Paul, there is one secret that I have never imparted to you--not that I +wished to keep it from you, but that nothing has occurred to call it +out--" + +She paused, while Paul regarded her in much curiosity. + +"What is it, Miriam?" he at last inquired. + +"I promised my dying mother, and sealed the promise with an oath, never +to be a bride until I shall have been--" + +"What, Miriam?" + +"An avenger of blood!" + +"Miriam!" + +It was all he said, and then he remained gazing at her, as if he doubted +her perfect sanity. + +"I am not mad, dear Paul, though you look as if you thought so." + +"Explain yourself, dear Miriam." + +"I am going to do so. You remember Marian Mayfield?" she said, her face +beginning to quiver with emotion. + +"Yes! yes! well?" + +"You remember the time and manner of her death?" + +"Yes--yes!" + +"Oh, Paul! that stormy night death fell like scattering lightning, and +struck three places at once! But, oh, Paul! such was the consternation +and grief excited by the discovery of Marian's assassination, that the +two other sudden deaths passed almost unnoticed, except by the +respective families of the deceased. Child as I then was, Paul, I think +it was the tremendous shock of her sudden and dreadful death, that threw +me entirely out of my center, so that I have been erratic ever since. +She was more than a mother to me, Paul; and if I had been born hers, I +could not have loved her better--I loved her beyond all things in life. +In my dispassionate, reflective moments. I am inclined to believe that I +have never been quite right since the loss of Marian. Not but that I am +reconciled to it--knowing that she must be happy--only, Paul, I often +feel that something is wrong here and here," said Miriam, placing her +hand upon her forehead and upon her heart. + +"But your promise, Miriam--your promise," questioned Paul, with +increased anxiety. + +"Ay, true! Well, Paul, I promised to devote my whole life to the pursuit +and apprehension of her murderer; and never to give room in my bosom to +any thought of love or marriage until that murderer should hang from n +gallows; and I sealed that promise with a solemn oath." + +"That was all very strange, dear Miriam." + +"Paul, yes it was--and it weighs upon me like lead. Paul, if two things +could be lifted off my heart, I should be happy. I should be happy as a +freed bird." + +"And what are they, dear Miriam? What weights are they that I have not +power to lift from your heart?" + +"Surely you may surmise--the first is our brother's sadness that +oppresses my spirits all the time; the second is the memory of that +unaccomplished vow; so equally do these two anxieties divide my +thoughts, that they seem connected--seem to be parts of the same +responsibility--and I even dreamed that the one could be accomplished +only with the other." + +"Dearest Miriam, let me assure you, that such dreams and visions are but +the effect of your isolated life--they come from an over-heated brain +and over-strained nerves. And you must consent to throw off those +self-imposed weights, and be happy and joyous as a young creature +should." + +"Alas, how can I throw them off, dear Paul?" + +"In this way--first, for my brother's life-long sorrow, since you can +neither cure nor alleviate it, turn your thoughts away from it. As for +your vow, two circumstances combine to absolve you from it; the first is +this--that you were an irresponsible infant, when you were required to +make it--the second is, that it is impossible to perform it; these two +considerations fairly release you from its obligations. Look upon these +matters in this rational light, and all your dark and morbid dreams and +visions will disappear; and we shall have you joyous as any young bird, +sure enough. And I assure you, that your cheerfulness will be one of the +very best medicines for our brother. Will you follow my advice?" + +"No, no, Paul! I cannot follow it in either instance! I cannot, Paul! it +is impossible! I cannot steel my heart against sympathy with his +sorrows, nor can I so ignore the requirements of my solemn vow. I do not +by any means think its accomplishment an impossibility, nor was it in +ignorance of its nature that I made it. No, Paul! I knew what I +promised, and I know that its performance is possible. Therefore I can +not feel absolved! I must accomplish my work; and you, Paul, if you love +me, must help me to do it." + +"I would serve you with my life, Miriam, in anything reasonable and +possible. But how can I help you? How can you discharge such an +obligation? You have not even a clue!" + +"Yes, I have a clue, Paul." + +"You have? What is it? Why have you never spoken of it before?" + +"Because of its seeming unimportance. The clue is so slight, that it +would be considered none at all, by others less interested than myself." + +"What is it, then? At least allow me the privilege of knowing, and +judging of its importance." + +"I am about to do so," said Miriam, and she commenced and told him all +she knew, and also all she suspected of the circumstances that preceded +the assassination on the beach. In conclusion, she informed him of the +letters in her possession. + +"And where are now those letters, Miriam? What are they like? What is +their purport? It seems to me that they would not only give a hint, but +afford direct evidence against that demoniac assassin. And it seems +strange to me that they were not examined, with a view to that end." + +"Paul, they were; but they did not point out the writer, even. There was +a note among them--a note soliciting a meeting with Marian, upon the +very evening, and upon the very spot when and where the murder was +committed! But that note contains nothing to indicate the identity of +its author. There are, besides, a number of foreign letters written in +French, and signed 'Thomas Truman,' no French name, by-the-bye, a +circumstance which leads me to believe that it must have been an assumed +one." + +"And those French letters give no indication of the writer, either?" + +"I am not sufficiently acquainted with that language to read it in +manuscript, which, you know, is much more difficult than print. But I +presume they point to nothing definitely, for my dear mother showed them +to Mr. Willcoxen, who took the greatest interest in the discovery of the +murderer, and he told her that those letters afforded not the slightest +clue to the perpetrator of the crime, and that whoever might have been +the assassin, it certainly could not have been the author of those +letters. He wished to take them with him, but mother declined to give +them up; she thought it would be disrespect to Marian's memory to give +her private correspondence up to a stranger, and so she told him. He +then said that of all men, certainly he had the least right to claim +them, and so the matter rested. But mother always believed they held the +key to the discovery of the guilty party; and afterward she left them to +me, with the charge that I should never suffer them to pass from my +possession until they had fulfilled their destiny of witnessing against +the murderer--for whatever Mr. Willcoxen might think, mother felt +convinced that the writer of those letters and the murderer of Marian +was the same person." + +"Tell me more about those letters." + +"Dear Paul, I know nothing more about them; I told you that I was not +sufficiently familiar with the French language to read them." + +"But it is strange that you never made yourself acquainted with their +contents by getting some one else to read them for you." + +"Dear Paul, you know that I was a mere child when they first came into +my possession, accompanied with the charge that I should never part with +them until they had done their office. I felt bound by my promise, I was +afraid of losing them, and of those persons that I could trust none knew +French, except our brother, and he had already pronounced them +irrelevant to the question. Besides, for many reasons, I was shy of +intruding upon brother." + +"Does he know that you have the packet?" + +"I suppose he does not even know that." + +"I confess," said Paul, "that if Thurston believed them to have no +connection with the murder, I have so much confidence in his excellent +judgment, that I am inclined to reverse my hasty opinion, and to think +as he does, at least until I see the letters. I remember, too, that the +universal opinion at the time was that the poor young lady had fallen a +victim to some marauding waterman--the most likely thing to have +happened. But, to satisfy you, Miriam, if you will trust me with those +letters, I will give them a thorough and impartial study, and then, if I +find no clue to the perpetrator of that diabolical deed, I hope, Miriam, +that you will feel yourself free from the responsibility of pursuing the +unknown demon--a pursuit which I consider worse than a wild-goose +chase." + +They were interrupted by the entrance of the boy with the mail bag. Paul +emptied the contents of it upon the table. There were letters for Mr. +Willcoxen, for Miriam, and for Paul himself. Those for Mr. Willcoxen +were sent up to him by the boy. Miriam's letter was from Alice Morris, +announcing her approaching marriage with Olive Murray, a young lawyer of +Washington, and inviting and entreating Miriam to come to the city and +be her bridesmaid. Paul's letters were from some of his medical +classmates. By the time they had read and discussed the contents of +their epistles, a servant came in to replenish the fire and lay the +cloth for tea. + +When Mr. Willcoxen joined them at supper, he laid a letter on Miriam's +lap, informing her that it was from Mrs. Morris, who advised them of her +daughter's intended marriage, and prayed them to be present at the +ceremony. Miriam replied that she had received a communication to the +same effect. + +"Then, my dear, we will go up to Washington and pass a few weeks, and +attend this wedding, and see the inauguration of Gen. ----. You lead too +lonely a life for one of your years, love. I see it affects your health +and spirits. I have been too selfish and oblivious of you, in my +abstraction, dear child; but it shall be so no longer. You shall enter +upon the life better suited to your age." + +Miriam's eyes thanked his care. For many a day Thurston had not come +thus far out of himself, and his doing so now was hailed as a happy omen +by the young people. + +Their few preparations were soon completed, and on the first of March +they went to Washington City. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +DISCOVERIES. + + +On arriving at Washington, our party drove immediately to the Mansion +House, where they had previously secured rooms. + +The city was full of strangers from all parts of the country, drawn +together by the approaching inauguration of one of the most popular +Presidents that ever occupied the White House. + +As soon as our party made known their arrival to their friends, they +were inundated with calls and invitations. Brother clergymen called upon +Mr. Willcoxen, and pressed upon him the freedom of their houses. Alice +Morris and Mrs. Moulton, the relative with whom she was staying, called +upon Miriam, and insisted that she should go home with them, to remain +until after the wedding. But these offers of hospitality were gratefully +declined by the little set, who preferred to remain together at their +hotel. + +The whole scene of metropolitan life, in its most stirring aspect, was +entirely new and highly interesting to our rustic beauty. Amusements of +every description were rife. The theatres, exhibition halls, saloons and +concert rooms held out their most attractive temptations, and night +after night were crowded with the gay votaries of fashion and of +pleasure. While the churches, and lyceums, and lecture-rooms had greater +charms for the more seriously inclined. The old and the young, the grave +and the gay, found no lack of occupation, amusement and instruction to +suit their several tastes or varying moods. The second week of their +visit, the marriage of Alice Morris and Oliver Murray came off, Miriam +serving as bridesmaid, Dr. Douglass as groomsman, and Mr. Willcoxen as +officiating minister. + +But it is not with these marriage festivities that we have to do, but +with the scenes that immediately succeed them. + +From the time of Mr. Willcoxen's arrival in the city, he had not ceased +to exercise his sacred calling. His fame had long before preceded him to +the capital, and since his coming he had been frequently solicited to +preach and to lecture. + +Not from love of notoriety--not from any such ill-placed, vain glory, +but from the wish to relieve some overtasked brother of the heat and +burden of at least one day; and possibly by presenting truth in a newer +and stronger light to do some good, did Thurston Willcoxen, Sabbath +after Sabbath, and evening after evening, preach in the churches or +lecture before the lyceum. Crowds flocked to hear him, the press spoke +highly of his talents and his eloquence, the people warmly echoed the +opinion, and Mr. Willcoxen, against his inclination, became the clerical +celebrity of the day. + +But from all this unsought world-worship he turned away a weary, +sickened, sorrowing man. + +There was but one thing in all "the world outside" that strongly +interested him--it was a "still small voice," a low-toned, sweet music, +keeping near the dear mother earth and her humble children, yet echoed +and re-echoed from sphere to sphere--it was the name of a lady, young, +lovely, accomplished and wealthy, who devoted herself, her time, her +talents and her fortune, to the cause of suffering humanity. + +This young lady, whose beauty, goodness, wisdom, eloquence and powers of +persuasion were rumored to be almost miraculous, had founded schools and +asylums, and had collected by subscription a large amount of money, with +which she was coming to America, to select and purchase a tract of land +to settle a colony of the London poor. This angel girl's name and fame +was a low, sweet echo, as I said before--never noisy, never rising +high--keeping near the ground. People spoke of her in quiet places, and +dropped their voices to gentle tones in mentioning her and her works. +Such was the spell it exercised over them. This lady's name possessed +the strangest fascination for Thurston Willcoxen; he read eagerly +whatever was written of her; he listened with interest to whatever was +spoken of her. Her name! it was that of his loved and lost Marian!--that +in itself was a spell, but that was not the greatest charm--her +character resembled that of his Marian! + +"How like my Marian?" would often be the language of his heart, when +hearing of her deeds. "Even so would my Marian have done--had she been +born to fortune, as this lady was." + +The name was certainly common enough, yet the similarity of both names +and natures inclined him to the opinion that this angel-woman must be +some distant and more fortunate relative of his own lost Marian. He felt +drawn toward the unknown lady by a strong and almost irresistible +attraction; and he secretly resolved to see and know her, and pondered +in his heart ways and means by which he might, with propriety, seek her +acquaintance. + +While thus he lived two lives--the outer life of work and usefulness, +and the inner life of thought and suffering--the young people of his +party, hoping and believing him to be enjoying the honors heaped upon +him, yielded themselves up to the attractions of society. + +Miriam spent much of her time with her friend, Alice Murray. + +One morning, when she called on Alice, the latter invited her visitor up +into her own chamber, and seating her there, said, with a mysterious +air: + +"Do you know, Miriam, that I have something--the strangest thing that +ever was--that I have been wanting to tell you for three or four days, +only I never got an opportunity to do so, because Olly or some one was +always present? But now Olly has gone to court, and mother has gone to +market, and you and I can have a cozy chat to ourselves." + +She stopped to stir the fire, and Miriam quietly waited for her to +proceed. + +"Now, why in the world don't you ask me for my secret? I declare you +take so little interest, and show so little curiosity, that it is not a +bit of fun to hint a mystery to you. Do you want to hear, or don't you? +I assure you it is a tremendous revelation, and it concerns you, too!" + +"What is it, then? I am anxious to hear?" + +"Oh! you do begin to show a little interest; and now, to punish you, I +have a great mind not to tell you; however, I will take pity upon your +suspense; but first, you must promise never, never, n-e-v-e-r to mention +it again--will you promise?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, then, listen. Stop! get a good place to faint first, and then +listen. Are you ready? One, two, three, fire. The Rev. Thurston +Willcoxen is a married man!" + +"What!" + +"Mr. Thurston Willcoxen has been married for eight years past." + +"Pshaw!" + +"Mr. Willcoxen was married eight years ago this spring at a little +Methodist chapel near the navy yard of this city, and by an old +Methodist preacher, of the name of John Berry." + +"You are certainly mad!" + +"I am not mad, most noble 'doubter,' but speak the words of truth and +soberness. Mr. Willcoxen was married privately, when and where I said, +to a beautiful, fair-haired lady, whose name heard in the ritual was +Marian. And my husband, Olly Murray, was the secret witness of that +private marriage." + +A wild scream, that seemed to split the heart from whence it arose, +broke from the lips of Miriam; springing forward, she grasped the wrist +of Alice, and with her wild eyes starting, straining from their sockets, +gazed into he face, crying: + +"Tell me! tell me! that you have jested! tell me that you have lied? +Speak! speak!" + +"I told you the Lord's blessed truth, and Oily knows it. But Miriam, for +goodness sake don't look that way--you scare me almost to death! And, +whatever you do, never let anybody know that I told you this; because, +if you did, Olly would be very much grieved at me; for he confided it to +me as a dead secret, and bound me up to secrecy, too; but I thought as +it concerned you so much, it would be no harm to tell you, if you would +not tell it again; and so when I was promising, I made a mental +reservation in favor of yourself. And so I have told you; and now you +mustn't betray me, Miriam." + +"It is false! all that you have told me is false! say that It is false! +tell me so! speak! speak!" cried Miriam, wildly. + +"It is not false--it is true as Gospel, every word of it--nor is it any +mistake. Because Olly saw the whole thing, and told me all about it. The +way of it was, that Olly overheard them in the Congressional Library +arranging the marriage--the gentleman was going to depart for Europe, +and wished to secure the lady's hand before he went--and at the same +time, for some reason or other, he wished the marriage to be kept +secret. Olly owns that it was none of his business, but that curiosity +got the upper hand of him, so he listened, and he heard them call each +other 'Thurston' and 'Marian'--and when they left the library, he +followed them--and so, unseen, he witnessed the private marriage +ceremony, at which they still answered to the names of 'Thurston' and +'Marian.' He did not hear their surnames. He never saw the bride again; +and he never saw the bridegroom until he saw Mr. Willcoxen at our +wedding. The moment Olly saw him he knew that he had seen him before, +but could not call to mind when or where; and the oftener he looked at +him, the more convinced he became that he had seen him first under some +very singular circumstances. And when at last lie heard his first name +called 'Thurston,' the whole truth flashed on him at once. He remembered +everything connected with the mysterious marriage. I wonder what Mr. +Willcoxen has done with his Marian? or whether she died or whether she +lives? or where he hides her? Well, some men are a mystery--don't you +think so, Miriam?" + +But only deep and shuddering groans, upheaving from the poor girl's +bosom, answered her. + +"Miriam! Oh, don't go on so! what do you mean? Indeed you alarm me! oh, +don't take it so to heart! indeed, I wouldn't, if I were you! I should +think it the funniest kind of fun? Miriam, I say!" + +She answered not--she had sunk down on the floor, utterly crushed by the +weight of misery that had fallen upon her. + +"Miriam! now what in the world do you mean by this? Why do you yield so? +I would not do it. I know it is bad to be disappointed of an expected +inheritance, and to find out that some one else has a greater claim, +but, indeed, I would not take it to heart so, if I were you. Why, if he +is married, he may not have a family, and even if he has, he may not +utterly disinherit you, and even if he should, I would not grieve myself +to death about it if I were you! Miriam, look up, I say!" + +But the hapless girl replied not, heard not, heeded not; deaf, blind, +insensible was she to all--everything but to that sharp, mental grief, +that seemed so like physical pain; that fierce anguish of the breast, +that, like an iron band, seemed to clutch and close upon her heart, +tighter, tighter, tighter, until it stopped the current of her blood, +and arrested her breath, and threw her into convulsions. + +Alice sprang to raise her, then ran down-stairs to procure restoratives +and assistance. In the front hall she met Dr. Douglass, who had just +been admitted by the waiter. To his pleasant greeting, she replied +hastily, breathlessly: + +"Oh, Paul! come--come quickly up stairs! Miriam has fallen into +convulsions, and I am frightened out of my senses!" + +"What caused her illness?" asked Paul, in alarm and anxiety, as he ran +up stairs, preceded by Alice. + +"Oh, I don't know!" answered Alice, but thought to herself: "It could +not have been what I said to her, and if it was, I must not tell." + +The details of sickness are never interesting. I shall not dwell upon +Miriam's illness of several weeks; the doctors pronounced it to be +_angina pectoris_--a fearful and often fatal complaint, brought on in +those constitutionally predisposed to it, by any sudden shock to mind or +body. What could have caused its attack upon Miriam, they could not +imagine. And Alice Murray, in fear and doubt, held her tongue and kept +her own counsel. In all her illness, Miriam's reason was not for a +moment clouded--it seemed preternaturally awake; but she spoke not, and +it was observed that if Mr. Willcoxen, who was overwhelmed with distress +by her dreadful illness, approached her bedside and touched her person, +she instantly fell into spasms. In grief and dismay, Thurston's eyes +asked of all around an explanation of this strange and painful +phenomenon; but none could tell him, except the doctor, who pronounced +it the natural effect of the excessive nervous irritability attending +her disease, and urged Mr. Willcoxen to keep away from her chamber. And +Thurston sadly complied. + +Youth, and an elastic constitution, prevailed over disease, and Miriam +was raised from the bed of death; but so changed in person and in +manner, that you would scarcely have recognized her. She was thinner, +but not paler--an intense consuming fire burned in and out upon her +cheek, and smouldered and flashed from her eye. Self-concentrated and +reserved, she replied not at all, or only in monosyllables, to the words +addressed to her, and withdrew more into herself. + +At length, Dr. Douglass advised their return home. And therefore they +set out, and upon the last of March, approached Dell-Delight. + +The sky was overcast, the ground was covered with snow, the weather was +damp, and very cold for the last of March. As evening drew on, and the +leaden sky lowered, and the chill damp penetrated the comfortable +carriage in which they traveled, Mr. Willcoxen redoubled his attentions +to Miriam, carefully wrapping her cloak and furs about her, and letting +down the leathern blinds and the damask hangings, to exclude the cold; +but Miriam shrank from his touch, and shivered more than before, and +drew closely into her own corner. + +"Poor child, the cold nips and shrivels her as it does a tropical +flower," said Thurston, desisting from his efforts after he had tucked a +woolen shawl around her feet. + +"It is really very unseasonable weather--there is snow in the +atmosphere. I don't wonder it pinches Miriam," said Paul Douglass. + +Ah! they did not either of them know that it was a spiritual fever and +ague alternately burning and freezing her very heart's blood--hope and +fear, love and loathing, pity and horror, that striving together made a +pandemonium of her young bosom. Like a flight of fiery arrows came the +coincidences of the tale she had heard, and the facts she knew. That +spring, eight years before, Mr. Murray said he had, unseen, witnessed +the marriage of Thurston Willcoxen and Marian. That spring, eight years +before, she knew Mr. Willcoxen and Miss Mayfield had been together on a +visit to the capital. Thurston had gone to Europe, Marian had returned +home, but had never seemed the same since her visit to the city. The +very evening of the house-warming at Luckenough, where Marian had +betrayed so much emotion, Thurston had suddenly returned, and presented +himself at that mansion. Yet in all the months that followed she had +never seen Thurston and Marian together, Thurston was paying marked and +constant attention to Miss Le Roy, while Marian's heart was consuming +with a secret sorrow and anxiety that she refused to communicate even to +Edith. How distinctly came back to her mind those nights when, lying by +Marian's side, she had put her hand over upon her face and felt the +tears on her cheeks. Those tears! The recollection of them now, and in +this connection, filled her heart with indescribable emotion. Her +mother, too, had died in the belief that Marian had fallen by the hands +of her lover or her husband. Lastly, upon the same night of Marian's +murder, Thurston Willcoxen had been unaccountably absent, during the +whole night, from the deathbed of his grandfather. And then his +incurable melancholy from that day to this--his melancholy augmented to +anguish at the annual return of this season. + +And then rising, in refutation of all this evidence, was his own +irreproachable life and elevated character. + +Ah! but she had, young, as she was, heard of such cases before--how in +some insanity of selfishness or frenzy of passion, a crime had been +perpetrated by one previously and afterward irreproachable in conduct. +Piercing wound after wound smote these thoughts like swift coming +arrows. + +A young, immature woman, a girl of seventeen, in whose warm nature +passion and imagination so largely predominated over intellect, was but +too liable to have her reason shaken from its seat by the ordeal through +which she was forced to go. + +As night descended, and they drew near Dell-Delight, the storm that had +been lowering all the afternoon came upon them. The wind, the hail, and +the snow, and the snow-drifts continually forming, rendered the roads, +that were never very good, now nearly impassable. + +More and more obstructed, difficult and unrecognizable became their way, +until at last, when within an eighth of a mile from the house, the +horses stepped off the road into a covered gully, and the carriage was +over-turned and broken. + +"Miriam! dear Miriam! dear child, are you hurt?" was the first anxious +exclamation of both gentlemen. + +No one was injured; the coach lay upon its left side, and the right side +door was over their heads. Paul climbed out first, and then gave his +hand to Miriam, whom Mr. Willcoxen assisted up to the window. Lastly +followed Thurston. The horses had kicked themselves free of the carriage +and stood kicking yet. + +"Two wheels and the pole are broken--nothing can be done to remove the +carriage to-night. You had better leave the horses where they are, Paul, +and let us hurry on to get Miriam under shelter first, then we can send +some one to fetch them home." + +They were near the park gate, and the road from there to the mansion was +very good. Paul was busy in bundling Miriam up in her cloak, shawls and +furs. And then Mr. Willcoxen approached to raise her in his arms, and +take her through the snow; but-- + +"No! no!" said Miriam, shuddering and crouching closely to Paul. Little +knowing her thoughts, Mr. Willcoxen slightly smiled, and pulling his hat +low over his eyes, and turning up his fur collar and wrapping his cloak +closely around him, he strode on rapidly before them. The snow was +blowing in their faces, but drawing Miriam fondly to his side, Paul +hurried after him. + +When they reached the park gate, Thurston was laboring to open it +against the drifted snow. He succeeded, and pushed the gate back to let +them pass. Miriam, as she went through, raised her eyes to his form. + +There he stood, in night and storm, his tall form shrouded in the long +black cloak--the hat drawn over his eyes, the faint spectral gleam of +the snow striking upward to his clear-cut profile, the peculiar fall of +ghostly light and shade, the strong individuality of air and attitude. + +With a half-stifled shriek, Miriam recognized the distinct picture of +the man she had seen twice before with Marian. + +"What is the matter, love? Were you near falling? Give me your arm, +Miriam--you need us both to help you through this storm," said Thurston, +approaching her. + +But with a shiver that ran through all her frame, Miriam shrank closer +to Paul, who, with affectionate pride, renewed his care, and promised +that she should not slip again. + +So link after link of the fearful evidence wound itself around her +consciousness, which struggled against it, like Laocoon in the fatal +folds of the serpent. + +Now cold as if the blood were turned to ice in her veins, now burning as +if they ran fire, she was hurried on into the house. + +They were expected home, and old Jenny had fires in all the occupied +rooms, and supper ready to go on the table, that was prepared in the +parlor. + +But Miriam refused all refreshment, and hurried to her room. It was +warmed and lighted by old Jenny's care, and the good creature followed +her young mistress with affectionate proffers of aid. + +"Wouldn't she have a strong cup of tea? Wouldn't she have a hot bath? +Wouldn't she have her bed warmed? Wouldn't she have a bowl of nice hot +mulled wine? Dear, dear! she was so sorry, but it would have frightened +herself to death if the carriage had upset with her, and no wonder Miss +Miriam was knocked up entirely." + +"No, no, no!" + +Miriam would have nothing, and old Jenny reluctantly left her--to +repose? Ah, no! with fever in her veins, to walk up and down and up and +down the floor of her room with fearful unrest. Up and down, until the +candle burned low, and sunk drowned in its socket; until the fire on the +hearth smouldered and went out; until the stars in the sky waned with +the coming day; until the rising sun kindled all the eastern horizon; +and then, attired as she was, she sank upon the outside of her bed and +fell into a heavy sleep of exhaustion. + +She arose unrefreshed, and after a hasty toilet descended to the +breakfast-parlor, where she knew the little family awaited her. + +"The journey and the fright have been too much for you, love; you look +very weary; you should have rested longer this morning," said Mr. +Willcoxen, affectionately, as he arose and met her and led her to the +most comfortable seat near the fire. + +His fine countenance, elevated, grave and gentle in expression, his kind +and loving manner, smote all the tender chords of Miriam's heart. + +Could that man be guilty of the crime she had dared to suspect him of? + +Oh, no, no, no! never! Every lineament of his face, every inflection of +his voice, as well as every act of his life, and every trait of his +character, forbade the dreadful imputation! + +But then the evidence--the damning evidence! Her reeled with the doubt +as she sank into the seat he offered her. + +"Ring for breakfast, Paul! Our little housekeeper will feel better when +she gets a cup of coffee." + +But Miriam sprang up to anticipate him, and drew her chair to the table, +and nervously began to arrange the cups and put sugar and cream into +them, with the vague feeling that she must act as usual to avoid calling +observation upon herself, for if questioned, how could she answer +inquiries, and whom could she make a confidant in her terrible +suspicions? + +And so through the breakfast scene, and so through the whole day she +sought to exercise self-control. But could her distress escape the +anxious, penetrating eyes of affection? That evening after tea, when Mr. +Willcoxen had retired to his own apartments and the waiter had +replenished the fire and trimmed the lamps and retired, leaving the +young couple alone in the parlor--Miriam sitting on one side of the +circular work-table bending over her sewing, and Paul on the other side +with a book in his hand, he suddenly laid the volume down, and went +round and drew a chair to Miriam's side and began to tell her how much +he loved her, how dear her happiness was to him, and so entreat her to +tell him the cause of her evident distress. As he spoke, she became +paler than death, and suddenly and passionately exclaimed: + +"Oh, Paul! Paul! do not question me! You know not what you ask." + +"My own Miriam, what mean you? I ought to know." + +"Oh, Paul! Paul! I am one foredoomed to bring misery and destruction +upon all who love me; upon all whom I love." + +"My own dearest, you are ill, and need change, and you shall have it, +Miriam," he said, attempting to soothe her with that gentle, tender, +loving manner he ever used toward her. + +But shuddering sighs convulsed her bosom, and-- + +"Oh, Paul! Paul!" was all she said. + +"Is it that promise that weighs upon your mind, Miriam? Cast it out; you +cannot fulfill it; impossibilities are not duties." + +"Oh, Paul! would Heaven it were impossible! or that I were dead." + +"Miriam! where are those letters you wished to show me?" + +"Oh! do not ask me, Paul! not yet! not yet! I dread to see them. And +yet--who knows? they may relieve this dreadful suspicion! they may point +to another probability," she said, incoherently. + +"Just get me those letters, dear Miriam," he urged, gently. + +She arose, tottering, and left the room, and after an absence of fifteen +minutes returned with the packet in her hand. + +"These seals have not been broken since my mother closed them," said +Miriam, as she proceeded to open the parcel. + +The first she came to was the bit of a note, without date or signature, +making the fatal appointment. + +"This, Paul," she said, mournfully, "was found in the pocket of the +dress Marian wore at Luckenough, but changed at home before she went out +to walk the evening of her death. Mother always believed that she went +out to meet the appointment made in that note." + +Paul took the paper with eager curiosity to examine it. He looked at +it, started slightly, turned pale, shuddered, passed his hand once or +twice across his eyes, as if to clear his vision, looked again, and then +his cheeks blanched, his lips gradually whitened and separated, his eyes +started, and his whole countenance betrayed consternation and horror. + +Miriam gazed upon him in a sort of hushed terror--then exclaimed: + +"Paul! Paul! what is the matter? You look as if you had been turned to +stone by gazing on the Gorgon's head; Paul! Paul!" + +"Miriam, did your mother know this handwriting?" he asked, in a husky, +almost inaudible voice. + +"No!" + +"Did she suspect it?" + +"No!" + +"Did you know or suspect it?" + +"No! I was a child when I received it, remember. I have never seen it +since." + +"Not when you put it in my hand, just now?" + +"No, I never looked at the writing?" + +"That was most strange that you should not have glanced at the +handwriting when you handed it to me. Why didn't you? Were you afraid to +look at it? Miram! why do you turn away your head? Miriam! answer me--do +you know the handwriting?" + +"No, Paul, I do not know it--do you?" + +"No! no! how should I? But Miriam, your head is still averted. Your very +voice is changed. Miriam! what mean you? Tell me once for all. Do you +suspect the handwriting?" + +"How should I? Do you, Paul?" + +"No! no! I don't suspect it." + +They seemed afraid to look each other in the face; and well they might +be, for the written agony on either brow; they seemed afraid to hear the +sound of each other's words; and well they might be, for the hollow, +unnatural sound of either voice. + +"It cannot be! I am crazy, I believe. Let me clear my--oh, Heaven! +Miriam! did--was--do you know whether there was any one in particular on +familiar terms with Miss Mayfield?" + +"No one out of the family, except Miss Thornton." + +"'Out of the family'--out of what family?" + +"Ours, at the cottage." + +"Was--did--I wonder if my brother knew her intimately?" + +"I do not know; I never saw them in each other's company but twice in my +life." + +The youth breathed a little freer. + +"Why did you ask, Paul?" + +"No matter, Miriam. Oh! I was a wretch, a beast to think--" + +"What, Paul?" + +"There are such strange resemblances in--in--in--What are you looking at +me so for, Miriam?" + +"To find your meaning. In what, Paul--strange resemblances in what?" + +"Why, in faces." + +"Why, then, so there are--and in persons, also; and sometimes in fates; +but we were talking of handwritings, Paul." + +"Were we? Oh, true. I am not quite right, Miriam. I believe I have +confined myself too much, and studied too hard. I am really out of +sorts; never mind me! Please hand me those foreign letters, love." + +Miriam was unfolding and examining them; but all in a cold, stony, +unnatural way. + +"Paul," she asked, "wasn't it just eight years this spring since your +brother went to Scotland to fetch you?" + +"Yes; why?" + +"Wasn't it to Glasgow that he went?" + +"Yes; why?" + +"Were not you there together in March and April, 182-?" + +"Once more, yes! Why do you inquire?" + +"Because all these foreign letters directed to Marian are postmarked +Glasgow, and dated March or April, 182-." + +With a low, stifled cry, and a sudden spring, he snatched the packet +from her hand, tore open the first letter that presented itself, and ran +his strained, bloodshot eyes down the lines. Half-suppressed, deep +groans like those wrung by torture from a strong man's heart, burst from +his pale lips, and great drops of sweat gathered on his agonized +forehead. Then he crushed the letters together in his hand and held them +tightly, unconsciously, while his starting eyes were fixed on vacancy +and his frozen lips muttered: + +"In a fit of frantic passion, anger, jealousy--even he might have been +maddened to the pitch of doing such a thing! But as an act of base +policy, as an act of forethought, oh! never, never, never!" + +"Paul! Paul! speak to me, Paul. Tell me what you think. I have had +foreshadowings long. I can bear silence and uncertainty no longer. What +find you in those letters? Oh, speak, or my heart will burst, Paul." + +He gave no heed to her or her words, but remained like one impaled; +still, fixed, yet writhing, his features, his whole form and expression +discolored, distorted with inward agony. + +"Paul! Paul!" cried Miriam, starting up, standing before him, gazing on +him. "Paul! speak to me. Your looks kill me. Speak, Paul! even though +you can tell me little new. I know it all, Paul; or nearly all. Weeks +ago I received the shock! it overwhelmed me for the time; but I survived +it! But you, Paul--you! Oh! how you look! Speak to your sister, Paul! +Speak to your promised wife." + +But he gave no heed to her. She was not strong or assured--she felt +herself tottering on the very verge of death or madness. But she could +not bear to see him looking so. Once more she essayed to engage his +attention. + +"Give me those letters, Paul--I can perhaps make out the meaning." + +As he did not reply, she gently sought to take them from his hand. But +at her touch he suddenly started up and threw the packet into the fire. +With a quick spring, Miriam darted forward, thrust her hand into the +fire and rescued the packet, scorched and burning, but not destroyed. + +She began to put it out, regardless of the pain to her hands. He looked +as if he were tempted to snatch it from her, but she exclaimed: + +"No, Paul! no! You will not use force to deprive me of this that I must +guard as a sacred trust." + +Still Paul hesitated, and eyed the packet with a gloomy glance. + +"Remember honor, Paul, even in this trying moment," said Miriam; "let +honor be saved, if all else be lost." + +"What do you mean to do with that parcel?" he asked in a hollow voice. + +"Keep them securely for the present." + +"And afterward?" + +"I know not." + +"Miriam, you evade my questions. Will you promise me one thing?" + +"What is that?" + +"Promise me to do nothing with those letters until you have further +evidence." + +"I promise you that." + +Then Paul took up a candle and left the room, as if to go to his +sleeping apartment; but on reaching the hall, he threw down and +extinguished the light and rushed as if for breath out into the open +air. + +The night was keen and frosty, the cold, slaty sky was thickly studded +with sparkling stars, the snow was crusted over--it was a fine, fresh, +clear, wintry night; at another time it would have invigorated and +inspired him; now the air seemed stifling, the scene hateful. + +The horrible suspicion of his brother's criminality had entered his +heart for the first time, and it had come with the shock of certainty. +The sudden recognition of the handwriting, the strange revelations of +the foreign letters, had not only in themselves been a terrible +disclosure, but had struck the whole "electric chain" of memory and +association, and called up in living force many an incident and +circumstance heretofore strange and incomprehensible; but now only too +plain and indicative. The whole of Thurston's manner the fatal day of +the assassination--his abstraction, his anxious haste to get away on the +plea of most urgent business in Baltimore--business that never was +afterward heard of; his mysterious absence of the whole night from his +grandfather's deathbed--provoking conjecture at the time, and +unaccounted for to this day; his haggard and distracted looks upon +returning late the next morning; his incurable sorrow; his habit of +secluding himself upon the anniversary of that crime--and now the +damning evidence in these letters! Among them, and the first he looked +at, was the letter Thurston had written Marian to persuade her to +accompany him to France, in the course of which his marriage with her +was repeatedly acknowledged, being incidentally introduced as an +argument in favor of her compliance with his wishes. + +Yet Paul could not believe the crime ever premeditated--it was sudden, +unintentional, consummated in a lover's quarrel, in a fit of jealousy, +rage, disappointment, madness! Stumbling upon half the truth, he said to +himself: + +"Perhaps failing to persuade her to fly with him to France, he had +attempted to carry her off, and being foiled, had temporarily lost his +self-control, his very sanity. That would account for all that had +seemed so strange in his conduct the day and night of the assassination +and the morning after." + +There was agony--there was madness in the pursuit of the investigation. +Oh, pitying Heaven! how thought and grief surged and seethed in aching +heart and burning brain! + +And Miriam's promise to her dying mother--Miriam's promise to bring the +criminal to justice! Would she--could she now abide by its obligations? +Could she prosecute her benefactor, her adopted brother, for murder? +Could her hand be raised to hurl him down from his pride of place to +shame and death? No, no, no, no! the vow must be broken, must be evaded; +the right, even if it were the right, must be transgressed, heaven +offended--anything! anything! anything but the exposure and sacrifice of +their brother! If he had sinned, had he not repented? Did he not suffer? +What right had she, his ward, his _protégé_, his child, to punish him? +"Vengeance is mine--I will repay, saith the Lord." No, Miriam must not +keep her vow! She must! she must! she must, responded the moral sense, +slow, measured, dispassionate, as the regular fall of a clock's hammer. +"I will myself prevent her; I will find means, arguments and persuasions +to act upon her. I will so appeal to her affections, her gratitude, her +compassion, her pride, her fears, her love for me--I will so work upon +her heart that she will not find courage to keep her vow." She will! she +will! responded the deliberate conscience. + +And so he walked up and down; vainly the fresh wind fanned his fevered +brow; vainly the sparkling stars glanced down from holy heights upon +him; he found no coolness for his fever in the air, no sedative for his +anxiety in the stillness, no comfort for his soul in the heavens; he +knew not whether he were indoors or out, whether it were night or day, +summer or winter, he knew not, wrapped as he was in the mantle of his +own sad thoughts, suffering as he was in the purgatory of his inner +life. + +While Paul walked up and down, like a maniac, Miriam returned to her +room to pace the floor until nearly morning, when she threw herself, +exhausted, upon the bed, fell into a heavy sleep, and a third time, +doubtless from nervous excitement or prostration, suffered a repetition +of her singular vision, and awoke late in the morning, with the words, +"perform thy vow," ringing in her ears. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +THE AVENGER. + + +Several days passed in the gloomy mansion misnamed Dell-Delight. Miriam +and Paul avoided each other like death. Both dreaded like death any +illusion to the awful subject that lay so heavy upon the heart of each. +Paul, unacquainted with her thoughts, and relying upon her promise to do +nothing with the letters without further evidence, contented himself +with watching her motions, feeling comparatively at ease as long as she +should remain in the house; and being resolved to prevent her from going +forth, or to accompany her if she persisted in leaving home. + +With Miriam, the shock, the anguish, the struggle had well-nigh passed; +she was at once subdued and resolved, like one into whom some spirit had +entered and bound her own spirit, and acted through her. So strange did +all appear to her, so strange the impassiveness of her own will, of her +habits and affections, that should have rebelled and warred against her +purpose that she sometimes thought herself not herself, or insane, or +the subject of a monomania, or some strange hallucination, a dreamer, a +somnambulist, perhaps. And yet with matchless tact and discretion, she +went about her deadly work. She had prepared her plan of action, and now +waited only for a day very near at hand, the fourth of April, the +anniversary of Marian's assassination, to put Thurston to a final test +before proceeding further. + +The day came at last--it was cold and wintry for the season. Toward +evening the sky became overcast with leaden clouds, and the chill +dampness penetrated into all the rooms of the old mansion. Poor Fanny +was muttering and moaning to herself and her "spirits" over the wood +fire in her distant room. + +Mr. Willcoxen had not appeared since breakfast time. Miriam remained in +her own chamber; and Paul wandered restlessly from place to place +through all the rooms of the house, or threw himself wearily into his +chair before the parlor fire. Inclement as the weather was, he would +have gone forth, but that he too remembered the anniversary, and a +nameless anxiety connected with Miriam confined him to the house. + +In the kitchen, the colored folk gathered around the fire, grumbling at +the unseasonable coldness of the weather, and predicting a hail-storm, +and telling each other that they never "'sperienced" such weather this +time o' year, 'cept 'twas that spring Old Marse died--when no wonder, +"'siderin' how he lived long o' Sam all his life." + +Only old Jenny went in and out from house to kitchen, Old Jenny had +enough to do to carry wood to the various fires. She had never "seed it +so cold for de season nyther, 'cept 'twas de spring Miss Marian went to +hebben, and not a bit o' wonder de yeth was cole arter she war gone--de +dear, lovin' heart warm angel; 'deed I wondered how it ever come summer +again, an' thought it was right down onsensible in her morning-glories +to bloom out jest de same as ever, arter she was gone! An' what minds me +to speak o' Miss Marian now, it war jes' seven years this night, since +she 'parted dis life," said Jenny, as she stood leaning her head upon +the mantel-piece, and toasting her toes at the kitchen fire, previous to +carrying another armful of wood into the parlor. + +Night and the storm descended together--such a tempest! such a wild +outbreaking of the elements! rain and hail, and snow and wind, all +warring upon the earth together! The old house shook, the doors and +windows rattled, the timbers cracked, the shingles were torn off and +whirled aloft, the trees were swayed and snapped; and as the storm +increased in violence and roused to fury, the forest beat before its +might, and the waves rose and overflowed the low land. + +Still old Jenny went in and out of the house to kitchen and kitchen to +house, carrying wood, water, meat, bread, sauce, sweetmeats, arranging +the table for supper, replenishing the fire, lighting the candles, +letting down the curtains--and trying to make everything cozy and +comfortable for the reassembling of the fireside circle. Poor old Jenny +had passed so much of her life in the family with "the white folks," +that all her sympathies went with them--and on the state of their +spiritual atmosphere depended all her cheerfulness and comfort; and now +the cool, distant, sorrowful condition of the members of the little +family circle--"ebery single mudder's son and darter ob 'em, +superamblated off to derself like pris'ners in a jailhouse"--as she +said--depressed her spirits very much. Jenny's reaction from depression +was always quite querulous. And toward the height of the storm, there +was a reaction and she grew very quarrelsome. + +"Sam's waystin'[A] roun' in dere," said Jenny, as she thrust her feet +into the kitchen fire, before carrying in the urn; "Sam's waystin', I +tells you all good! all werry quiet dough--no noise, no fallin' out, no +'sputin' nor nothin'--all quiet as de yeth jest afore a debbil ob a +storm--nobody in de parlor 'cept 'tis Marse Paul, settin' right afore de +parlor fire, wid one long leg poked east and toder west, wid the boots +on de andirons like a spread-eagle! lookin' as glum as if I owed him a +year's sarvice, an' nebber so much as a-sayin', 'Jenny, you poor old +debbil, ain't you a-cold?' an' me coming in ebery minnit wid the icicles +a-jinglin' 'roun' my linsey-woolsey skurts, like de diamonds on de +Wirgin Mary's Sunday gown. But Sam's waystin' now, I tells you all good. +Lors Gemini, what a storm! + +[Footnote A: Waysting--Going up and down.] + +"I 'members of no sich since dat same storm as de debbil come in to +fetch ole marse's soul--dis berry night seven year past, an' he carried +of him off all in a suddint whiff! jist like a puff of win'. An' no +wonder, seein' how he done traded his soul to him for money! + +"An' Sam's here ag'in to-night! dunno who he's come arter! but he's +here, now, I tells you all good!" said Jenny, as she took up the urn to +carry it into the parlor. + +When she got there she could scarcely get to the fire; Paul took up the +front. His immobility and unconsciousness irritated Jenny beyond silent +endurance. + +"I tell you all what," she said, "I means to 'sign my sitewation! 'deed +me! I can't kill myself for dem as wouldn't even care 'nough for me to +have a mass said for de 'pose o' my soul." + +"What do you mean?" asked Paul, angrily, for confinement, solitude, bad +weather, and anxiety, had combined, to make him querulous, too. + +"I means how ef yer doesn't have a kivered way made from de house to de +kitchen an' back ag'in, I gwine give up waitin' on de table, now min' I +tell yer, 'deed me! an' now ef you likes, yer may jes' go an' tell Marse +Rooster." + +"'Marse Rooster!' Will you ever give up that horrid nonsense. Why, you +old--! Is my brother--is your master a barn-door chicken-cock, that you +call him 'Rooster?'" asked the young man, snappishly. + +"Well, Shrooster, den, ef you wants me to wring my tongue in two. Ef +people's sponsors in baptism will gib der chillun such heathen names, +how de debbil any Christian 'oman gwine to twis' her tongue roun' it? I +thanks my 'Vine Marster dat my sponsors in baptism named me arter de +bressed an' holy S'int Jane--who has 'stained an' s'ported me all my +days; an' 'ill detect now, dough you do try to break my poor ole heart +long wid onkindness at my ole ages o' life! But what's de use o' +talkin'--Sam's waystin'!" And so saying, Jenny gave the finishing +touches to the arrangement of the table, and then seized the bell, and +rang it with rather needless vigor and violence, to bring the scattered +members of the family together. + +They came, slowly and singly, and drew around the table more like ghosts +than living persons, a few remarks upon the storm, and then they sunk +into silence--and as soon as the gloomy meal was over, one by one they +dropped away from the room--first went poor Fanny, then Mr. Willcoxen, +then Miriam. + +"Where are you going, Miriam?" asked Paul, as the latter was leaving the +room. + +"To my chamber." + +And before he could farther question, or longer detain her, she pressed +his hand and went out. And Paul, with a deep sigh and a strangely +foreboding heart, sank back into his seat. + +When Miriam reached her bedroom, she carefully closed and locked the +door, went to her bureau, opened the top-drawer, and took from it a +small oblong mahogany glove-box. She unlocked the latter, and took out a +small parcel, which she unwrapped and laid before her upon the bureau. + +It was the xyphias poniard. + +The weapon had come into her possession some time before in the +following manner: During the first winter of Paul Douglass' absence from +home, Mr. Willcoxen had emancipated several of his slaves and provided +means for their emigration to Liberia. They were to sail early in March. +Among the number was Melchisedek. A few days previous to their +departure, this man had come to the house, and sought the presence of +his youthful mistress, when he knew her to be alone in the parlor, and +with a good deal of mystery and hesitation had laid before her a dagger +which he said he should rather have given to "Marster Paul," if the +latter had been at home. He had picked it up near the water's edge on +the sands the night of Miss Mayfield's death, which "Marster" had taken +so to heart, that he was afraid to harrow up his feelings by bringing it +to him a second time--but that as it was an article of value, he did not +like to take it away with him. And he begged Miss Miriam to take charge +of it. And Miriam had taken it, and with surprise, but without the +slightest suspicion, had read the name of "Thurston Willcoxen" carved +upon its handle. To all her questions, Melchisedek had given evasive +answers, or remained obstinately silent, being determined not to betray +his master's confidence by revealing his share in the events of that +fatal night. Miriam had taken the little instrument, wrapped it +carefully in paper, and locked it in her old-fashioned long glove-box. +And from that day to this she had not opened it. + +Now, however, she had taken it out with a fixed purpose, and she stood +and gazed upon it. Presently she took it up, rolled it in the paper, +took her lamp, and slowly left her room, and passed along the passages +leading to Mr. Willcoxen's library. + +The storm howled and raved as she went, and the strong blast, driving +through the dilapidated window-sashes, nearly extinguished her light +before she reached the study door. + +She blew out the light and set down the lamp, and rapped at the door. +Again and again she rapped, without awakening any response from within. + +Then she turned the latch, opened the door, and entered. No wonder she +had received no answer. + +The abstracted man before her seemed dead to every sight and sound +around him. He sat before the table in the middle of the room, his elbow +on the mahogany; his face bowed upon his hand, his haggard countenance +revealing a still, speechless despair as awful as it was profound. + +Miriam approached and stood by him, her breath went by his cheek, so +near she stood, and yet her presence was unheeded. She stooped to see +the object upon which he gazed--the object that now shut out all the +world from his sight--it was a long bright tress of golden auburn hair. + +"Mr. Willcoxen!" + +He did not hear her--how should he hear her low tones, when he heard not +the cannonading of the storm that shook the house to its foundations? + +"Mr. Willcoxen!" she said once more. + +But he moved not a muscle. + +"Mr. Willcoxen!" she repeated, laying her hand upon his arm. + +He looked up. The expression of haggard despair softened out of his +countenance. + +"Is it you, my dear?" he said. "What has brought you here, Miriam? Were +you afraid of the storm? There is no danger, dear child--it has nearly +expended its force, and will soon be over--but sit down." + +"Oh, no! it is not the storm that has brought me here, though I scarcely +remember a storm so violent at this season of the year, except one--this +night seven years ago--the night that Marian Mayfield was murdered!" + +He started--it is true that he had been thinking of the same dread +tragedy--but to hear it suddenly mentioned pierced him like an +unexpected sword thrust. + +Miriam proceeded, speaking in a strange, level monotone, as if unwilling +or afraid to trust her voice far: + +"I came this evening to restore a small but costly article of _virtu_, +belonging to you, and left in my care some time ago by the boy +Melchisedek. It is an antique dagger--somewhat rusty and spotted. Here +it is." + +And she laid the poniard down upon the tress of hair before him. + +He sprang up as if it had been a viper--his whole frame shook, and the +perspiration started from his livid forehead. + +Miriam, keeping her eye upon him, took the dagger up. + +"It is very rusty, and very much streaked," she said. "I wonder what +these dark streaks can be? They run along the edge, from the extreme +point of the blade, upwards toward the handle; they look to me like the +stains of blood--as if a murderer had stabbed his victim with it, and in +his haste to escape had forgotten to wipe the blade, but had left the +blood upon it, to curdle and corrode the steel. See! don't it look so to +you?" she said, approaching him, and holding the weapon up to his view. + +"Girl! girl! what do you mean?" he exclaimed, throwing his hand across +his eyes, and hurrying across the room. + +Miriam flung down the weapon with a force that made its metal ring upon +the floor, and hastening after him, she stood before him; her dark eyes +fixed upon his, streaming with insufferable and consuming fire, that +seemed to burn through into his brain. She said: + +"I have heard of fiends in the human shape, nay, I have heard of Satan +in the guise of an angel of light! Are you such that stand before me +now?" + +"Miriam, what do you mean?" he asked, in sorrowful astonishment. + +"This is what I mean! That the mystery of Marian Mayfield's fate, the +secret of your long remorse, is no longer hidden! I charge you with the +murder of Marian Mayfield!" + +"Miriam, you are mad!" + +"Oh! well for me, and better still for you, if I were mad!" + +He was tremendously shaken, more by the vivid memories she recalled than +by the astounding charge she made. + +"In the name of Heaven, what leads you to imagine such impossible +guilt!" + +"Good knowledge of the facts--that this month, eight years ago, in the +little Methodist chapel of the navy yard, in Washington City, you made +Marian Mayfield your wife--that this night seven years since, in just +such a storm as this, on the beach below Pine Bluff, you met and +murdered Marian Willcoxen! And, moreover, I as sure you, that these +facts which I tell you now, to-morrow I will lay before a magistrate, +together with all the corroborating proof in my possession!" + +"And what proof can you have?" + +"A gentleman who, unknown and unsuspected, witnessed the private +ceremony between yourself and Marian; a packet of French letters, +written by yourself from Glasgow, to Marian, in St. Mary's, in the +spring of 1823; a note found in the pocket of her dress, appointing the +fatal meeting on the beach where she perished. Two physicians, who can +testify to your unaccountable absence from the deathbed of your parent +on the night of the murder, and also to the distraction of your manner +when you returned late the next morning." + +"And this," said Thurston, gazing in mournful amazement upon her; "this +is the child that I have nourished and brought up in my house! She can +believe me guilty of such atrocious crime--she can aim at my honor and +my life such a deadly blow?" + +"Alas! alas! it is my duty! it is my fate! I cannot escape it! I have +bound my soul by a fearful oath! I cannot evade it! I shall not survive +it! Oh, all the heaven is black with doom, and all the earth tainted +with blood!" cried Miriam, wildly. + +"You are insane, poor girl! you are insane!" said Thurston, pityingly. + +"Would Heaven I were! would Heaven I were! but I am not! I am not! Too +well I remember I have bound my soul by an oath to seek out Marian's +destroyer, and deliver him up to death! And I must do it! I must do it! +though my heart break--as it will break in the act!" + +"And you believe me to be guilty of this awful crime!" + +"There stands the fearful evidence! Would Heaven it did not exist! oh! +would Heaven it did not!" + +"Listen to me, dear Miriam," he said, calmly, for he had now recovered +his self-possession. "Listen to me--I am perfectly guiltless of the +crime you impute to me. How is it possible that I could be otherwise +than guiltless. Hear me explain the circumstances that have come to your +knowledge," and he attempted to take her hand to lead her to a seat. But +with a slight scream, she snatched her hand away, saying wildly: + +"Touch me not! Your touch thrills me to sickness! to faintness! +curdles--turns back the current of blood in my veins!" + +"You think this hand a blood-stained one?" + +"The evidence! the evidence!" + +"I can explain that evidence. Miriam, my child, sit down--at any +distance from me you please--only let it be near enough for you to +hear. Did I believe you quite sane, Miriam, grief and anger might +possibly seal my lips upon this subject--but believing you partially +deranged--from illness and other causes--I will defend myself to you. +Sit down and hear me." + +Miriam dropped into the nearest chair. + +Mr. Willcoxen took another, and commenced: + +"You have received some truth, Miriam. How it has been presented to you, +I will not ask now. I may presently. I was married, as you have somehow +ascertained, to Marian Mayfield, just before going to Europe. I +corresponded with her from Glasgow. I did appoint a meeting with her on +the beach, upon the fatal evening in question--for what purpose that +meeting was appointed, it is bootless to tell you, since the meeting +never took place--for some hours before I should have set out to keep my +appointment, my grandfather was stricken with apoplexy. I did not wish +to leave his bedside until the arrival of the doctor. But when the +evening wore on, and the storm approached, I grew uneasy upon Marian's +account, and sent Melchisedek in the gig to fetch her from the beach to +this house--never to leave it. Miriam, the boy reached the sands only to +find her dying. Terrified half out of his senses, he hurried back and +told me this story. I forgot my dying relative--forgot everything, but +that my wife lay wounded and exposed on the beach. I sprung upon +horseback, and galloped with all possible haste to the spot. By the time +I had got there the storm had reached its height, and the beach was +completely covered with the boiling waves. My Marian had been carried +away. I spent the wretched night in wandering up and down the bluff +above the beach, and calling on her name. In the morning I returned home +to find my grandfather dead, and the family and physicians wondering at +my strange absence at such a time. That, Miriam, is the story." + +Miriam made no comment whatever. Mr. Willcoxen seemed surprised and +grieved at her silence. + +"What have you now to say, Miriam?" + +"Nothing." + +"'Nothing?' What do you think of my explanation?" + +"I think nothing. My mind is in an agony of doubt and conjecture. I must +be governed by stern facts--not by my own prepossessions. I must act +upon the evidences in my possession--not upon your explanation of them," +said Miriam, distractedly, as she arose to leave the room. + +"And you will denounce me, Miriam?" + +"It is my insupportable duty! it is my fate! my doom! for it will kill +me!" + +"Yet you will do it!" + +"I will." + +"Yet turn, dear Miriam! Look on me once more! take my hand! since you +act from necessity, do nothing from anger--turn and take my hand." + +She turned and stood--such a picture of tearless agony! She met his +gentle, compassionate glance--it melted--it subdued her. + +"Oh, would Heaven that I might die, rather than do this thing! Would +Heaven I might die! for my heart turns to you; it turns, and I love you +so--oh! I love you so! never, never so much as now! my brother! my +brother!" and she sunk down and seized his hands and wept over them. + +"What, Miriam! do you love me, believing me to be guilty?" + +"To have been guilty--not to be guilty--you have suffered remorse--you +have repented, these many long and wretched years. Oh! surely repentance +washes out guilt!" + +"And you can now caress and weep over my hands, believing them to have +been crimsoned with the life-stream of your first and best friend?" + +"Yes! yes! yes! yes! Oh! would these tears, my very heart sobs forth, +might wash them pure again! Yes! yes! whether you be guilty or not, my +brother! the more I listen to my heart, the more I love you, and I +cannot help it!" + +"It is because your heart is so much wiser than your head, dear Miriam! +Your heart divines the guiltlessness that your reason refuses to credit! +Do what you feel that you must, dear Miriam--but, in the meantime, let +us still be brother and sister--embrace me once more." + +With anguish bordering on insanity, she threw herself into his arms for +a moment--was pressed to his heart, and then breaking away, she escaped +from the room to her own chamber. And there, with her half-crazed brain +and breaking heart--like one acting or forced to act in a ghastly dream, +she began to arrange her evidence--collect the letters, the list of +witnesses and all, preparatory to setting forth upon her fatal mission +in the morning. + +With the earliest dawn of morning, Miriam left her room. In passing the +door of Mr. Willcoxen's chamber, she suddenly stopped--a spasm seized +her heart, and convulsed her features--she clasped her hands to pray, +then, as if there were wild mockery in the thought, flung them fiercely +apart, and hurried on her way. She felt that she was leaving the house +never to return; she thought that she should depart without encountering +any of its inmates. She was surprised, therefore, to meet Paul in the +front passage. He came up and intercepted her: + +"Where are you going so early, Miriam?" + +"To Colonel Thornton's." + +"What? Before breakfast?" + +"Yes." + +He took both of her hands, and looked into her face--her pallid +face--with all the color concentrated in a dark crimson spot upon either +cheek--with all the life burning deep down in the contracted pupils of +the eyes. + +"Miriam, you are not well--come, go into the parlor," he said, and +attempted to draw her toward the door. + +"No, Paul, no! I must go out," she said, resisting his efforts. + +"But why?" + +"What is it to you? Let me go." + +"It is everything to me, Miriam, because I suspect your errand. Come +into the parlor. This madness must not go on." + +"Well, perhaps I am mad, and my words and acts may go for nothing. I +hope it may be so." + +"Miriam, I must talk with you--not here--for we are liable to be +interrupted every instant. Come into the parlor, at least for a few +moments." + +She no longer resisted that slight plea, but suffered him to lead her +in. He gave her a seat, and took one beside her, and took her hand in +his, and began to urge her to give up her fatal purpose. He appealed to +her, through reason, through religion, through all the strongest +passions and affections of her soul--through her devotion to her +guardian--through the gratitude she owed him--through their mutual love, +that must be sacrificed, if her insane purpose should be carried out. To +all this she answered: + +"I think of nothing concerning myself, Paul--I think only of him; there +is the anguish." + +"You are insane, Miriam; yet, crazy as you are, you may do a great deal +of harm--much to Thurston, but much more to yourself. It is not probable +that the evidence you think you have will be considered by any +magistrate of sufficient importance to be acted upon against a man of +Mr. Willcoxen's life and character." + +"Heaven grant that such may be the case." + +"Attend! collect your thoughts--the evidence you produce will probably +be considered unimportant and quite unworthy of attention; but what will +be thought of you who volunteer to offer it?" + +"I had not reflected upon that--and now you mention it, I do not care." + +"And if, on the other hand, the testimony which you have to offer be +considered ground for indictment, and Thurston is brought to trial, and +acquitted, as he surely would be--" + +"Ay! Heaven send it!" + +"And the whole affair blown all over the country--how would you appear?" + +"I know not, and care not, so he is cleared; Heaven grant I may be the +only sufferer! I am willing to take the infamy." + +"You would be held up before the world as an ingrate, a domestic +traitress, and unnatural monster. You would be hated of all--your name +and history become a tradition of almost impossible wickedness." + +"Ha! why, do you think that in such an hour as this I care for myself? +No, no! no, no! Heaven grant that it may be as you say--that my brother +be acquitted, and I only may suffer! I am willing to suffer shame and +death for him whom I denounce! Let me go, Paul; I have lost too much +time here." + +"Will nothing induce you to abandon this wicked purpose?" + +"Nothing on earth, Paul!" + +"Nothing?" + +"No! so help me Heaven! Give way--let me go, Paul." + +"You must not go, Miriam." + +"I must and will--and that directly. Stand aside." + +"Then you shall not go." + +"Shall not?" + +"I said 'shall not.'" + +"Who will prevent me?" + +"I will! You are a maniac, Miriam, and must be restrained from going +abroad, and setting the county in a conflagration." + +"You will have to guard me very close for the whole of my life, then." + +At that moment the door was quietly opened, and Mr. Willcoxen entered. + +Miriam's countenance changed fearfully, but she wrung her hand from the +clasp of Paul's, and hastened toward the door. + +Paul sprang forward and intercepted her. + +"What does this mean?" asked Mr. Willcoxen, stepping up to them. + +"It means that she is mad, and will do herself or somebody else much +mischief," cried Paul, sharply. + +"For shame, Paul! Release her instantly," said Thurston, +authoritatively. + +"Would you release a lunatic, bent upon setting the house on fire?" +expostulated the young man, still holding her. + +"She is no lunatic; let her go instantly, sir." + +Paul, with a groan, complied. + +Miriam hastened onward, cast one look of anguish back to Thurston's +face, rushed back, and threw herself upon her knees at his feet, clasped +his hands, and cried: + +"I do not ask you to pardon me--I dare not! But God deliver you! if it +brand me and my accusation with infamy! and God forever bless you!" Then +rising, she fled from the room. + +The brothers looked at each other. + +"Thurston, do you know where she has gone? what she intends to do?" + +"Yes." + +"You do?" + +"Assuredly." + +"And you would not prevent her?" + +"Most certainly not." + +Paul was gazing into his brother's eyes, and, as he gazed, every vestige +of doubt and suspicion vanished from his mind; it was like the sudden +clearing up of the sky, and shining forth of the sun; he grasped his +brother's hands with cordial joy. + +"God bless you, Thurston! I echo her prayer. God forever bless you! But, +Thurston, would it not have been wiser to prevent her going out?" + +"How? Would you have used force with Miriam--restrained her personal +liberty?" + +"Yes! I would have done so!" + +"That would have been not only wrong, but useless; for if her strong +affections for us were powerless to restrain her, be sure that physical +means would fail; she would make herself heard in some way, and thus +make our cause much worse. Besides, I should loathe, for myself, to +resort to any such expedients." + +"But she may do so much harm. And you?" + +"I am prepared to meet what comes!" + +"Strange infatuation! that she should believe you to be--I will not +wrong you by finishing the sentence." + +"She does not at heart believe me guilty--her mind is in a storm. She is +bound by her oath to act upon the evidence rather than upon her own +feelings, and that evidence is much stronger against me, Paul, than you +have any idea of. Come into my study, and I will tell you the whole +story." + +And Paul followed him thither. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +UPON CHARGE OF MURDER. + + +Some hours later in that day Colonel Thornton was sitting, in his +capacity of police magistrate, in his office at C----. The room was +occupied by about a dozen persons, men and women, black and white. He +had just got through with one or two petty cases of debt or theft, and +had up before him a poor, half-starved "White Herring," charged with +sheep-stealing, when the door opened and a young girl, closely veiled, +entered and took a seat in the farthest corner from the crowd. The case +of the poor man was soon disposed of--the evidence was not positive--the +compassionate magistrate leaned to the side of mercy, and the man was +discharged, and went home most probably to dine upon mutton. This being +the last case, the magistrate arose and ordered the room to be cleared +of all who had no further business with him. + +When the loungers had left the police office the young girl came +forward, stood before the magistrate, and raised her veil, revealing the +features of Miriam. + +"Good-morning, Miss Shields," said Colonel Thornton; and neither the +countenance nor manner of this suave and stately gentleman of the old +school revealed the astonishment he really felt on seeing the young lady +in such a place. He arose and courteously placed her a chair, reseated +himself, and turned toward her and respectfully awaited her +communication. + +"Colonel Thornton, you remember Miss Mayfield, and the manner of her +death, that made some stir here about seven years ago?" + +The face of the old gentleman suddenly grew darkened and slightly +convulsed, as the face of the sea when clouds and wind pass over it. + +"Yes, young lady, I remember." + +"I have come to denounce her murderer." + +Colonel Thornton took up his pen, and drew toward him a blank form of a +writ, and sat looking toward her; and waiting for her further words. + +Her bosom heaved, her face worked, her voice was choked and unnatural, +as she said: + +"You will please to issue a warrant for the arrest of Thurston +Willcoxen." + +Colonel Thornton laid down his pen, arose from his seat, and took her +hand and gazed upon her with an expression of blended surprise and +compassion. + +"My dear young lady, you are not very well. May I inquire--are your +friends in town, or are you here alone?" + +"I am here alone. Nay, I am not mad, Colonel Thornton, although your +looks betray that you think me so." + +"No, no, not mad, only indisposed," said the colonel, in no degree +modifying his opinion. + +"Colonel Thornton, if there is anything strange and eccentric in my +looks and manner, you must set it down to the strangeness of the +position in which I am placed." + +"My dear young lady, Miss Thornton is at the hotel to-day. Will you +permit me to take you to her?" + +"You will do as you please, Colonel Thornton, after you shall have heard +my testimony and examined the proofs I have to lay before you. Then I +shall permit you to judge of my soundness of mind as you will, +premising, however, that my sanity or insanity can have no possible +effect upon the proofs that I submit," she said, laying a packet upon +the table between them. + +Something in her manner now compelled the magistrate to give her words +an attention for which he blamed himself, as for a gross wrong, toward +his favorite clergyman. + +"Do I understand you to charge Mr. Willcoxen with the death of Miss +Mayfield?" + +"Yes," said Miriam, bowing her head. + +"What cause, young lady, can you possibly have for making such a +monstrous and astounding accusation?" + +"I came here for the purpose of telling you, if you will permit me. Nor +do I, since you doubt my reason, ask you to believe my statement, +unsupported by proof." + +"Go on, young lady; I am all attention." + +"Will you administer the usual oath?" + +"No, Miss Shields; I will hear your story first in the capacity of +friend." + +"And you think that the only capacity in which you will be called upon +to act? Well, may Heaven grant it," said Miriam, and she began and told +him all the facts that had recently come to her knowledge, ending by +placing the packet of letters in his hands. + +While she spoke, Colonel Thornton's pen was busy making minutes of her +statements; when she had concluded, he laid down the pen, and turning to +her, asked: + +"You believe, then, that Mr. Willcoxen committed this murder?" + +"I know not--I act only upon the evidence." + +"Circumstantial evidence, often as delusive as it is fatal! Do you think +it possible that Mr. Willcoxen could have meditated such a crime?" + +"No, no, no, no! never meditated it! If he committed it, it was +unpremeditated, unintentional; the accident of some lover's quarrel, +some frenzy of passion, jealousy--I know not what!" + +"Let me ask you, then, why you volunteer to prosecute?" + +"Because I must do so. But tell me, do you think what I have advanced +trivial and unimportant?" asked Miriam, in a hopeful tone, for little +she thought of herself, if only her obligation were discharged, and her +brother still unharmed. + +"On the contrary, I think it so important as to constrain my instant +attention, and oblige me to issue a warrant for the apprehension of Mr. +Thurston Willcoxen," said Colonel Thornton, as he wrote rapidly, filling +out several blank documents. Then he rang a bell, that was answered by +the entrance of several police officers. To the first he gave a warrant, +saying: + +"You will serve this immediately upon Mr. Willcoxen." And to another he +gave some half dozen subpoenas, saying: "You will serve all these +between this time and twelve to-morrow." + +When these functionaries were all discharged, Miriam arose and went to +the magistrate. + +"What do you think of the testimony?" + +"It is more than sufficient to commit Mr. Willcoxen for trial; it may +cost him his life." + +A sudden paleness passed over her face; she turned to leave the office, +but the hand of death seemed to clutch her heart, arresting its +pulsations, stopping the current of her blood, smothering her breath, +and she fell to the floor. + + * * * * * + +Wearily passed the day at Dell-Delight. Thurston, as usual, sitting +reading or writing at his library table; Paul rambling uneasily about +the house, now taking up a book and attempting to read, now throwing it +down in disgust; sometimes almost irresistibly impelled to spring upon +his horse and gallop to Charlotte Hall, then restraining his strong +impulse lest something important should transpire at home during his +absence. So passed the day until the middle of the afternoon. + +Paul was walking up and down the long piazza, indifferent for the first +time in his life to the loveliness of the soft April atmosphere, that +seemed to blend, raise and idealize the features of the landscape until +earth, water and sky were harmonized into celestial beauty. Paul was +growing very anxious for the reappearance of Miriam, or for some news of +her or her errand, yet dreading every moment an arrival of another sort. +"Where could the distracted girl be? Would her report be received and +acted upon by the magistrate? If so, what would be done? How would it +all end? Would Thurston sleep in his own house or in a prison that +night? When would Miriam return? Would she ever return, after having +assumed such a task as she had taken upon herself?" + +These and other questions presented themselves every moment, as he +walked up and down the piazza, keeping an eye upon the distant road. + +Presently a cloud of dust in the distance arrested both his attention +and his promenade, and brought his anxiety to a crisis. He soon +perceived a single horseman galloping rapidly down the road, and never +removed his eyes until the horseman turned into the gate and galloped +swiftly up to the house. + +Then with joy Paul recognized the rider, and ran eagerly down the stairs +to give him welcome, and reached the paved walk just as Cloudy drew rein +and threw himself from the saddle. + +The meeting was a cordial, joyous one--with Cloudy it was sincere, +unmixed joy; with Paul it was only a pleasant surprise and a transient +forgetfulness. Rapid questions were asked and answered, as they hurried +into the house. + +Cloudy's ship had been ordered home sooner than had been expected; he +had reached Norfolk a week before, B---- that afternoon, and had +immediately procured a horse and hurried on home. Hence his unlooked-for +arrival. + +"How is Thurston? How is Miriam? How are they all at Luckenough?" + +"All are well; the family at Luckenough are absent in the South, but are +expected home every week." + +"And where is Miriam?" + +"At the village." + +"And Thurston?" + +"In his library, as usual," said Paul, and touched the bell to summon a +messenger to send to Mr. Willcoxen. + +"Have you dined, Cloudy?" + +"Yes, no--I ate some bread and cheese at the village; don't fuss; I'd +rather wait till supper-time." + +The door opened, and Mr. Willcoxen entered. + +Whatever secret anxiety might have weighed upon the minister's heart, no +sign of it was suffered to appear upon his countenance, as, smiling +cordially, he came in holding out his hand to welcome his cousin and +early playmate, expressing equal surprise and pleasure at seeing him. + +Cloudy had to go over the ground of explanation of his sudden arrival, +and by the time he had finished, old Jenny came in, laughing and +wriggling with joy to see him. But Jenny did not remain long in the +parlor; she hurried out into the kitchen to express her feelings +professionally by preparing a welcome feast. + +"And you are not married yet, Thurston, as great a favorite as you are +with the ladies! How is that? Every time I come home I expect to be +presented to a Mrs. Willcoxen, and never am gratified; why is that?" + +"Perhaps I believe in the celibacy of the clergy." + +"Perhaps you have never recovered the disappointment of losing Miss Le +Roy?" + +"Ah! Cloudy, people who live in glass houses should not throw stones; I +suspect you judge me by yourself. How is it with you, Cloudy? Has no +fair maiden been able to teach you to forget your boy-love for +Jacquelina?" + +Cloudy winced, but tried to cover his embarrassment with a laugh. + +"Oh! I have been in love forty dozen times. I'm always in love; my heart +is continually going through a circle from one fit to another, like the +sun through the signs of the zodiac; only it never comes to anything." + +"Well, at least little Jacko is forgotten, which is one congratulatory +circumstance." + +"No, she is not forgotten; I will not wrong her by saying that she is, +or could be! All other loves are merely the foreign ports, which my +heart visits transiently now and then. Lina is its native home. I don't +know how it is. With most cases of disappointment, such as yours with +Miss Le Roy, I suppose the regret may be short-lived enough; but when an +affection has been part and parcel of one's being from infancy up; why, +it is in one's soul and heart and blood, so to speak--is identical with +one's consciousness, and inseparable from one's life." + +"Do you ever see her?" + +"See her! yes; but how?--at each return from a voyage. I may see +her once, with an iron grating between us; she disguised with her +black shrouding robe and veil, and thinking that she must suffer +here to expiate the fate of Dr. Grimshaw, who, scorpion-like, stung +himself to death with the venom of his own bad passions. She is a +Sister of Mercy, devoted to good works, and leaves her convent only +in times of war, plague, pestilence or famine, to minister to the +suffering. She nursed me through the yellow fever, when I lay in the +hospital at New Orleans, but when I got well enough to recognize her she +vanished--evaporated--made herself 'thin air,' and another Sister served +in her place." + +"Have you ever seen her since?" + +"Yes, once; I sought out her convent, and went with the fixed +determination to reason with her, and to persuade her not to renew her +vows for another year--you know, the Sisters only take vows for a year +at a time." + +"Did you make any impression on her mind?" inquired Thurston, with more +interest than he had yet shown m any part of the story. + +"'Make any impression on her mind!' No! I--I did not even attempt to. +How could I, when I only saw her behind a grate, with the prioress on +one side of her and the portress on the other? My visit was silent +enough, and short enough, and sad enough. Why can't she come out of +that? What have I done to deserve to be made miserable? I don't deserve +it. I am the most ill-used man in the United States service." + +While Cloudy spoke, old Jenny was hurrying in and out between the house +and the kitchen, and busying herself with setting the table, laying the +cloth and arranging the service. But presently she came in, throwing +wide the door, and announcing: + +"Two gemmun, axin to see marster." + +Thurston arose and turned to confront them, while Paul became suddenly +pale on recognizing two police officers. + +"Good-afternoon, Mr. Willcoxen--good-afternoon, gentlemen," said the +foremost and most respectable-looking of the two, lifting his hat and +bowing to the fireside party. Then replacing it, he said: "Mr. +Willcoxen, will you be kind enough to step this way and give me your +attention, sir." He walked to the window, and Thurston followed him. + +Paul stood with a pale face and firmly compressed lip, and gazed after +them. + +And Cloudy--unsuspicious Cloudy, arose and stood with his back to the +fire and whistled a sea air. + +"Mr. Willcoxen, you can see for yourself the import of this paper," said +the officer, handing the warrant. + +Thurston read it and returned it. + +"Mr. Willcoxen," added the policeman, "myself and my comrade came hither +on horseback. Let me suggest to you to order your carriage. One of us +will accompany you in the drive, and all remarks will be avoided." + +"I thank you for the hint, Mr. Jenkins; I had, how ever, intended to do +as you advise," said Thurston, beckoning his brother to approach. + +"Paul! I am a prisoner. Say nothing at present to Cloudy; permit him to +assume that business takes me away, and go now quietly and order horses +put to the carriage." + +"Dr. Douglass, we shall want your company also," said the officer, +serving Paul with a subpoena. + +Paul ground his teeth together and rushed out of the door. + +"Keep an eye on that young man," said the policeman to his comrade, and +the latter followed Paul into the yard and on to the stables. + +The haste and passion of Paul's manner had attracted Cloudy's attention, +and now he stood looking on with surprise and inquiry. + +"Cloudy," said Thurston, approaching him, "a most pressing affair +demands my presence at C---- this afternoon. Paul must also attend me. I +may not return to-night. Paul, however, certainly will. In the meantime, +Cloudy, my boy, make yourself as much at home and as happy as you +possibly can." + +"Oh! don't mind me! Never make a stranger of me. Go, by all means. I +wouldn't detain you for the world; hope it is nothing of a painful +nature that calls you from home, however. Any parishioner ill, dying and +wanting your ghostly consolations?" + +"Oh, no," said Thurston, smiling. + +"Glad of it! Go, by all means. I will make myself jolly until you +return," said Cloudy, walking up and down the floor whistling a love +ditty, and thinking of little Jacko. He always thought of her with +tenfold intensity whenever he returned home and came into her +neighborhood. + +"Mr. Jenkins, will you follow me to my library?" said Thurston. + +The officer bowed assent and Mr. Willcoxen proceeded thither for the +purpose of securing his valuable papers and locking his secretary and +writing-desk. + +After an absence of some fifteen minutes they returned to the parlor to +find Paul and the constable awaiting them. + +"Is the carriage ready?" asked Mr. Willcoxen. + +"Yes, sir," replied the constable. + +"Then, I believe, we also are--is it not so?" + +The police officer bowed, and Mr. Willcoxen walked up to Cloudy and held +out his hand. + +"Good-by, Cloudy, for the present. Paul will probably be home by +nightfall, even if I should be detained." + +"Oh, don't hurry yourself upon my account. I shall do very well. Jenny +can take care of me," said Cloudy, jovially, as he shook the offered +hand of Thurston. + +Paul could not trust himself to look Cloudy in the face and say +"Good-by." He averted his head, and so followed Mr. Willcoxen and the +officer into the yard. + +Mr. Willcoxen, the senior officer and Paul Douglass entered the +carriage, and the second constable attended on horseback, and so the +party set out for Charlotte Hall. + +Hour after hour passed. Old Jenny came in and put the supper on the +table, and stood presiding over the urn and tea-pot while Cloudy ate his +supper. Old Jenny's tongue ran as if she felt obliged to make up in +conversation for the absence of the rest of the family. + +"Lord knows, I'se glad 'nough you'se comed back," she said; "dis yer +place is bad 'nough. Sam's been waystin' here eber since de fam'ly come +from de city--dey must o' fetch him long o' dem. Now I do 'spose sumtin +is happen long o' Miss Miriam as went heyin' off to de willidge dis +mornin' afore she got her brekfas, nobody on de yeth could tell what +fur. Now de od-er two is gone, an' nobody lef here to mine de house, +'cept 'tis you an' me! Sam's waystin'!" + +Cloudy laughed and tried to cheer her spirits by a gay reply, and then +they kept up between them a lively badinage of repartee, in which old +Jenny acquitted herself quite as wittily as her young master. + +And after supper she cleared away the service, and went to prepare a bed +and light a fire in the room appropriated to Cloudy. + +And so the evening wore away. + +It grew late, yet neither Thurston nor Paul appeared. Cloudy began to +think their return unseasonably delayed, and at eleven o'clock he took +up his lamp to retire to his chamber, when he was startled and arrested +by the barking of dogs, and by the rolling of the carriage into the +yard, and in a few minutes the door was thrown violently open, and Paul +Douglass, pale, haggard, convulsed and despairing, burst suddenly into +the room. + +"Paul! Paul! what in the name of Heaven has happened?" cried Cloudy, +starting up, surprised and alarmed by his appearance. + +"Oh, it has ended in his committal!--it has ended in his committal!--he +is fully committed for trial!--he was sent off to-night to the county +jail at Leonardtown, in the custody of two officers!" + +"Who is committed? What are you talking about, Paul?" said Cloudy, +taking his hand kindly and looking in his face. + +These words and actions brought Paul somewhat to his senses. + +"Oh! you do not know!--you do not even guess anything about it, Cloudy! +Oh, it is a terrible misfortune! Let me sit down and I will tell you!" + +And Paul Douglass threw himself into a chair, and in an agitated, nearly +incoherent manner, related the circumstances that led to the arrest of +Thurston Willcoxen for the murder of Marian Mayfield. + +When he had concluded the strange story, Cloudy started up, took his +hat, and was about to leave the room, + +"Where are you going, Cloudy?" + +"To the stables to saddle my horse, to ride to Leonardtown this night!" + +"It is nearly twelve o'clock." + +"I know it, but by hard riding I can reach Leonardtown by morning, and +be with Thurston as soon as the prison doors are opened. And I will ask +you, Paul, to be kind enough to forward my trunks from the tavern at +Benedict to Leonardtown, where I shall remain to be near Thurston as +long as he needs my services." + +"God bless you, Cloudy! I myself wished to accompany him, but he would +not for a moment hear of my doing so--he entreated me to return hither +to take care of poor Fanny and the homestead." + +Cloudy scarcely waited to hear this benediction, but hurried to the +stables, found and saddled his horse, threw himself into the stirrups, +and in five minutes was dashing rapidly through the thick, low-lying +forest stretching inland from the coast. + +Eight hours of hard riding brought him to the county seat. + +Just stopping long enough to have his horse put up at the best hotel and +to inquire his way to the prison, he hurried thither. + +It was nearly nine o'clock, and the street corners were thronged with +loungers conversing in low, eager tones upon the present all-absorbing +topic of discourse--the astounding event of the arrest of the great +preacher, the Rev. Thurston Willcoxen, upon the charge of murder. + +Hurrying past all these, Cloudy reached the jail. He readily gained +admittance, and was conducted to the cell of the prisoner. He found +Thurston attired as when he left home, sitting at a small wooden stand, +and calmly occupied with his pen. + +He arose, and smilingly extended his hand, saying: + +"This is very kind as well as very prompt, Cloudy. You must have ridden +fast." + +"I did. Leave us alone, if you please, my friend," said Cloudy, turning +to the jailor. + +The latter went out and locked the door upon the friends. + +"This seems a sad event to greet you on your return home. Cloudy; but +never mind, it will all be well!" + +"Sad? It's a farce! I have not an instant's misgiving about the result; +but the present indignity! Oh! oh! I could--" + +"Be calm, my dear Cloudy. Have you heard anything of the circumstances +that led to this?" + +"Yes! Paul told me; but he is as crazy and incoherent as a Bedlamite! I +want you, if you please, Thurston, if you have no objection, to go over +the whole story for me, that I may see if I can make anything of it for +your defense." + +"Poor Paul! he takes this matter far too deeply to heart. Sit down. I +have not a second chair to offer, but take this or the foot of the cot, +as you prefer." + +Cloudy took the foot of the cot. + +"Certainly, Cloudy, I will tell you everything," said Thurston, and +forthwith commenced his explanation. + +Thurston's narrative was clear and to the point. When it was finished +Cloudy asked a number of questions, chiefly referring to the day of the +tragedy. When these were answered he sat with his brows gathered down in +astute thought. Presently he asked: + +"Thurston, have you engaged counsel?" + +"Yes; Mr. Romford has been with me this morning." + +"Is he fully competent?" + +"The best lawyer in the State." + +"When does the court sit?" + +"On Monday week." + +"Have you any idea whether your trial will come on early in the +session?" + +"I presume it will come on very soon, as Mr. Romford informs me there +are but few cases on the docket." + +"Thank Heaven for that, as your confinement here promises to be of very +short duration. However, the limited time makes it the more necessary +for me to act with the greater promptitude. I came here with the full +intention of remaining in town as long as you should be detained in this +infernal place, but I shall have to leave you within the hour." + +"Of course, Cloudy, my dear boy, I could not expect you to restrict +yourself to this town so soon after escaping from the confinement of +your ship!" + +"Oh! you don't understand me at all! Do you think I am going away on my +own business, or amusement, while you are here? To the devil with the +thought!--begging your reverence's pardon. No, I am going in search of +Jacquelina. Since hearing your explanation, particularly that part of it +relating to your visit to Luckenough, upon the morning of the day of +Marian's death, and the various scenes that occurred there--certain +vague ideas of my own have taken form and color, and I feel convinced +that Jacquelina could throw some light upon this affair." + +"Indeed! why should you think so?" + +"Oh! from many small indexes, which I have neither the time nor +inclination to tell you; for, taken apart from collateral circumstances +and associations, they would appear visionary. Each in itself is really +trivial enough, but in the mass they are very indicative. At least, I +think so, and I must seek Jacquelina out immediately. And to do so, +Thurston, I must leave you this moment, for there is a boat to leave the +wharf for Baltimore this morning if it has not already gone. It will +take me two days to reach Baltimore, another day to get to her convent, +and it will altogether be five or six days before I can get back here. +Good-by, Thurston! Heaven keep you, and give you a speedy deliverance +from this black hole!" + +And Cloudy threw his arms around Thurston in a brotherly embrace, and +then knocked at the door to be let out. + +In half an hour Cloudy was "once more upon the waters," in full sail for +Baltimore. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +MARIAN. + + +Great was the consternation caused by the arrest of a gentleman so high +in social rank and scholastic and theological reputation as the Rev. +Thurston Willcoxen, and upon a charge, too, so awful as that for which +he stood committed! It was the one all-absorbing subject of thought and +conversation. People neglected their business, forgetting to work, to +bargain, buy or sell. Village shopkeepers, instead of vamping their +wares, leaned eagerly over their counters, and with great dilated eyes +and dogmatical forefingers, discussed with customers the merits or +demerits of the great case. Village mechanics, occupied solely with the +subject of the pastor's guilt or innocence, disappointed with impunity +customers who were themselves too deeply interested and too highly +excited by the same subject, to remember, far less to rebuke them, for +unfulfilled engagements. Even women totally neglected, or badly +fulfilled, their domestic avocations; for who in the parish could sit +down quietly to the construction of a garment or a pudding while their +beloved pastor, the "all praised" Thurston Willcoxen, lay in prison +awaiting his trial for a capital crime? + +As usual in such cases, there was very little cool reasoning, and very +much passionate declamation. The first astonishment had given place to +conjecture, which yielded in turn to dogmatic judgments--acquiescing or +condemning, as the self-constituted judges happened to be favorable or +adverse to the cause of the minister. + +When the first Sabbath after the arrest came, and the church was closed +because the pulpit was unoccupied, the dispersed congregation, haunted +by the vision of the absent pastor in his cell, discussed the matter +anew, and differed and disputed, and fell out worse than ever. Parties +formed for and against the minister, and party feuds raged high. + +Upon the second Sabbath--being the day before the county court should +sit--a substitute filled the pulpit of Mr. Willcoxen, and his +congregation reassembled to hear an edifying discourse from the text: "I +myself have seen the ungodly in great power, and flourishing like a +green bay-tree. I went by, and lo! he was gone; I sought him, but his +place was nowhere to be found." + +This sermon bore rather hard (by pointed allusions) upon the great +elevation and sudden downfall of the celebrated minister, and, in +consequence, delighted one portion of the audience and enraged the +other. The last-mentioned charged the new preacher with envy, hatred and +malice, and all uncharitableness, besides the wish to rise on the ruin +of his unfortunate predecessor, and they went home in high indignation, +resolved not to set foot within the parish church again until the +honorable acquittal of their own beloved pastor should put all his +enemies, persecutors and slanderers to shame. + +The excitement spread and gained force and fire with space. The press +took it up, and went to war as the people had done. And as far as the +name of Thurston Willcoxen had been wafted by the breath of fame, it was +now blown by the "Blatant Beast." Ay, and farther, too! for those who +had never even heard of his great talents, his learning, his eloquence, +his zeal and his charity, were made familiar with his imputed crime and +shuddered while they denounced. And this was natural and well, so far as +it went to prove that great excellence is so much less rare than great +evil, as to excite less attention. The news of this signal event spread +like wildfire all over the country, from Maine to Louisiana, and from +Missouri to Florida, producing everywhere great excitement, but falling +in three places with the crushing force of a thunderbolt. + +First by Marian's fireside. + +In a private parlor of a quiet hotel, in one of the Eastern cities, sat +the lady, now nearly thirty years of age, yet still in the bloom of her +womanly beauty. + +She had lately arrived from Europe, charged with one of those benevolent +missions which it was the business and the consolation of her life to +fulfill. + +It was late in the afternoon, and the low descending sun threw its +golden gleam across the round table at which she sat, busily engaged +with reading reports, making notes, and writing letters connected with +the affair upon which she had come. + +Seven years had not changed Marian much--a little less vivid, perhaps, +the bloom on cheeks and lips, a shade paler the angel brow, a shade +darker the rich and lustrous auburn tresses, softer and calmer, fuller +of thought and love the clear blue eyes--sweeter her tones, and gentler +all her motions--that was all. Her dress was insignificant in material, +make and color, yet the wearer unconsciously imparted a classic and +regal grace to every fold and fall of the drapery. No splendor of +apparel could have given such effect to her individual beauty as this +quiet costume; I would I were an artist that I might reproduce her image +as she was--the glorious face and head, the queenly form, in its plain +but graceful robe of I know not what--gray serge, perhaps. + +Her whole presence--her countenance, manner and tone revealed the +richness, strength and serenity of a faithful, loving, self-denying, +God-reliant soul--of one who could recall the past, endure the present, +and anticipate the future without regret, complaint or fear. + +Sometimes the lady's soft eyes would lift themselves from her work to +rest with tenderness upon the form of a little child, so small and still +that you would not have noticed her presence but in following the lady's +loving glance. She sat in a tiny rocking chair, nursing a little white +rabbit on her lap. She was not a beautiful child--she was too diminutive +and pale, with hazy blue eyes and faded yellow hair; yet her little face +was so demure and sweet, so meek and loving, that it would haunt and +soften you more than that of a beautiful child could. The child had been +orphaned from her birth, and when but a few days old had been received +into the "Children's Home." + +Marian never had a favorite among her children, but this little waif was +so completely orphaned, so desolate and destitute, and withal so puny, +fragile and lifeless that Marian took her to her own heart day and +night, imparting from her own fine vital temperament the warmth and +vigor that nourished the perishing little human blossom to life and +health. If ever a mother's heart lived in a maiden's bosom, it was in +Marian's. As she had cherished Miriam, she now cherished Angel, and she +was as fondly loved by the one as she had been by the other. And so for +five years past Angel had been Marian's inseparable companion. She sat +with her little lesson, or her sewing, or her pet rabbit, at Marian's +feet while she worked; held her hand when she walked out, sat by her +side at the table or in the carriage, and slept nestled in her arms at +night. She was the one earthly blossom that bloomed in Marian's solitary +path. + +Angel now sat with her rabbit on her knees, waiting demurely till Marian +should have time to notice her. + +And the lady still worked on, stopping once in a while to smile upon the +child. There was a file of the evening papers lying near at hand upon +the table where she wrote, but Marian had not yet had time to look at +them. Soon, however, she had occasion to refer to one of them for the +names of the members of the Committee on Public Lands. In casting her +eyes over the paper, her glance suddenly lighted upon a paragraph that +sent all the blood from her cheeks to her heart. She dropped the paper, +sank back in her chair, and covered her blanched face with both hands, +and strove for self-control. + +Angel softly put down the rabbit and gently stole to her side and looked +up with her little face full of wondering sympathy. + +Presently Marian began passing her hands slowly over her forehead, with +a sort of unconscious self-mesmerism, and then she dropped them wearily +upon her lap, and Angel saw how pallid was her face, how ashen and +tremulous her lip, how quivering her hands. But after a few seconds +Marian stooped and picked the paper up and read the long, +wonder-mongering affair, in which all that had been and all that had +seemed, as well as many things could neither be nor seem, were related +at length, or conjectured, or suggested. It began by announcing the +arrest of the Rev. Thurston Willcoxen upon the charge of murder, and +then went back to the beginning and related the whole story, from the +first disappearance of Marian Mayfield to the late discoveries that had +led to the apprehension of the supposed murderer, with many additions +and improvements gathered in the rolling of the ball of falsehood. Among +the rest, that the body of the unhappy young lady had been washed ashore +several miles below the scene of her dreadful fate, and had been +charitably interred by some poor fisherman. The article concluded by +describing the calm demeanor of the accused and the contemptuous manner +in which he treated a charge so grave, scorning even to deny it. + +"Oh, I do not wonder at the horror and consternation this matter has +caused. When the deed was attempted, more than the intended death wound +didn't overcome me! And nothing, nothing in the universe but the +evidence of my own senses could have convinced me of his purposed guilt! +And still I cannot realize it! He must have been insane! But he treats +the discovery of his intended and supposed crime with scorn and +contempt! Alas! alas! is this the end of years of suffering and +probation? Is this the fruit of that long remorse, from which I had +hoped so much for his redemption--a remorse without repentance, and +barren of reformation! Yet I must save him." + +She arose and rang the bell, and gave orders to have two seats secured +for her in the coach that would leave in the morning for Baltimore. And +then she began to walk up and down the floor, to try and walk off the +excitement that was fast gaining upon her. + +Before this night and this discovery, not for the world would Marian +have made her existence known to him, far less would she have sought his +presence. Nay, deeming such a meeting improper as it was impossible, her +mind had never contemplated it for an instant. She had watched his +course, sent anonymous donations to his charities, hoped much from his +repentance and good works, but never hoped in any regard to herself. But +now it was absolutely necessary that she should make her existence known +to him. She would go to him! She must save him! She should see him, and +speak to him--him whom she had never hoped to meet again in life! She +would see him again in three days! The thought was too exciting even for +her strong heart and frame and calm, self-governing nature! And in +defiance of reason and of will, her long-buried youthful love, her pure, +earnest, single-hearted love, burst its secret sepulchre, and rejoiced +through all her nature. The darkness of the past was, for the time, +forgotten. Memory recalled no picture of unkindness, injustice or +inconstancy. Even the scene upon the beach was faded, gone, lost! But +the light of the past glowed around her--their seaside strolls and +woodland wanderings-- + +"The still, green places where they met, + The moonlit branches dewy wet, + The greeting and the parting word, + The smile, the embrace, the tone that made + An Eden of the forest shade--" + +kindling a pure rapture from memory, and a wild longing from hope, that +her full heart could scarce contain. + +But soon came on another current of thought and feeling opposed to the +first--doubt and fear of the meeting. For herself she felt that she +could forget all the sorrows of the past; aye! and with fervent glowing +soul, and flushed cheeks, and tearful eyes, and clasped hands, she +adored the Father in Heaven that He had put no limit to forgiveness--no! +in that blessed path of light all space was open to the human will, and +the heart might forgive infinitely--and to its own measureless extent. + +But how would Thurston meet her? He had suffered such tortures from +remorse that doubtless he would rejoice "with exceeding great joy" to +find that the deed attempted in some fit of madness had really not been +effected. But his sufferings had sprung from remorse of conscience, not +from remorse of love. No! except as his deliverer, he would probably not +be pleased to see her. As soon as this thought had seized her mind, +then, indeed, all the bitterer scenes in the past started up to life, +and broke down the defenses reared by love, and faith, and hope, and let +in the tide of anguish and despair that rolled over her soul, shaking it +as it had not been shaken for many years. And her head fell upon her +bosom, and her hands were clasped convulsively, as she walked up and +down the floor--striving with herself--striving to subdue the rebel +passions of her heart--striving to attain her wonted calmness, and +strength, and self-possession, and at last praying earnestly: "Oh, +Father! the rains descend, and the floods come, and the winds blow and +beat upon my soul; let not its strength fall as if built upon the sand." +And so she walked up and down, striving and praying; nor was the +struggle in vain--once more she "conquered a peace" in her own bosom. + +She turned her eyes upon little Angel. The infant was drooping over one +arm of her rocking-chair like a fading lily, but her soft, hazy eyes, +full of vague sympathy, followed the lady wherever she went. + +Marian's heart smote her for her temporary forgetfulness of the child's +wants. It was now twilight, and Marian rang for lights, and Angel's milk +and bread, which were soon brought. + +And then with her usual quiet tenderness she undressed the little one, +heard her prayers, took her up, and as she rocked, sang a sweet, low +evening hymn, that soothed the child to sleep and her own heart to +perfect rest. And early the next morning Marian and little Angel set out +by the first coach for Baltimore, on their way to St. Mary's County. + + * * * * * + +The Convent of Bethlehem was not only the sanctuary of professed nuns, +the school for girls, the nursery of orphans, but it was also the +temporary home of those Sisters of Mercy who go forth into the world +only on errands of Christian love and charity, and return to their +convent often only to die, worn out by toil among scenes and sufferers +near which few but themselves would venture. And as they pass hence to +Heaven, their ranks are still filled up from the world--not always by +the weary and disappointed. Often young Catholic girls voluntarily leave +the untried world that is smiling fair before them to enter upon a life +of poverty, self-denial and merciful ministrations; so even in this +century the order of the Sisters of Mercy is kept up. + +Among the most active and zealous of the order of Bethlehem was the +Sister Theresa, the youngest of the band. Youthful as she was, however, +this Sister's heart was no sweet sacrifice of "a flower offered in the +bud;" on the contrary, I am afraid that Sister Theresa had trifled with, +and pinched, and bruised, and trampled the poor budding heart, until she +thought it good for nothing upon earth before she offered it to Heaven. +I fear it was nothing higher than that strange revulsion of feeling, +world-weariness, disappointment, disgust, remorse, fanaticism--either, +any, or all of these, call it what you will, that in past ages and +Catholic countries have filled monasteries with the whilom, gay, worldly +and ambitious; that has sent many a woman in the prime of her beauty and +many a man at the acme of his power into a convent; that transformed the +mighty Emperor Charles V. into a cowled and shrouded monk; the reckless +swashbuckler, Ignatius Loyola, into a holy saint, and the beautiful +Louise de la Valliere into an ascetic nun; which finally metamorphosed +the gayest, maddest, merriest elf that ever danced in the moonlight +into--Sister Theresa. + +Poor Jacquelina! for, of course, you can have no doubt that it is of her +we are speaking--she perpetrated her last lugubrious joke on the day +that she was to have made her vows, for when asked what patron saint she +would select by taking that saint's name in religion, she answered--St. +Theresa, because St. Theresa would understand her case the best, having +been, like herself, a scamp and a rattle-brain before she took it into +her head to astonish her friends by becoming a saint. Poor Jacko said +this with the solemnest face and the most serious earnestness; but, with +such a reputation as she had had for pertness, of course nobody would +believe but that she was making fun of the "Blessed Theresa," and so she +was put upon further probation, with the injunction to say the seven +penitential Psalms seven times a day, until she was in a holier frame of +mind; which she did, though under protest that she didn't think the +words composed by David to express his remorse for his own enormous sin +exactly suited her case. Sister Theresa, if the least steady and devout, +was certainly the most active and zealous and courageous among them all. +She yawned horribly over the long litanies and long sermons; but if ever +there was a work of mercy requiring extraordinary labor, privation, +exposure and danger, Sister Theresa was the one to face, in the cause, +lightning and tempest, plague, pestilence and famine, battle and murder, +and sudden death! Happy was she? or content? No; she was moody, +hysterical and devotional by turns--sometimes a zeal for good works +would possess her; sometimes the old fun and quaintness would break out, +and sometimes an overwhelming fit of remorse--each depending upon the +accidental cause that would chance to arouse the moods. + +Humane creatures are like climates--some of a temperate atmosphere, +taking even life-long sorrow serenely--never forgetting, and never +exaggerating its cause--never very wretched, if never quite happy. +Others of a more torrid nature have long, sunny seasons of bird-like +cheerfulness and happy forgetfulness, until some slight cause, striking +"the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound," shall startle up +memory--and grief, intensely realized, shall rise to anguish, and a +storm shall pass through the soul, shaking it almost to dissolution, and +the poor subject thinks, if she can think, that her heart must go to +pieces this time! But the storm passes, and nature, instead of being +destroyed, is refreshed and ready for the sunshine and the song-birds +again. The elastic heart throws off its weight, the spirits revive, and +life goes on joyously in harmony with nature. + +So it was with Jacquelina, with this sad difference, that as her trouble +was more than sorrow--for it was remorse--it was never quite thrown off. +It was not that her conscience reproached her for the fate of Dr. +Grimshaw, which was brought on by his own wrongdoing, but Marian's +fate--that a wild, wanton frolic of her own should have caused the early +death of one so young, and beautiful, and good as Marian! that was the +thought that nearly drove poor Jacquelina mad with remorse, whenever she +realized it. Dr. Grimshaw was forgiven, and--forgotten; but the thought +of Marian was the "undying worm," that preyed upon her heart. And so, +year after year, despite the arguments and persuasions of nearest +friends, and the constancy of poor Cloudy, Jacquelina tearfully turned +from love, friendship, wealth and ease, and renewed her vows of poverty, +celibacy, obedience, and the service of the poor, sick and ignorant, in +the hope of expiating her offense, soothing the voice of conscience, and +gaining peace. Jacquelina would have made her vows perpetual by taking +the black veil, but her Superior constantly dissuaded her from it. She +was young, and life, with its possibilities, was all before her; she +must wait many years before she took the step that could not be +retracted without perjury. And so each year she renewed her vow a +twelvemonth. The seventh year of her religious life was drawing to its +close, and she had notified her superior of her wish now, after so many +years of probation, to take the black veil, and make her vows perpetual. +And the Abbess had, at length, listened favorably to her expressed +wishes. + +But a few days after this, as the good old Mother, Martha, the portress, +sat dozing over her rosary, behind the hall grating, the outer door was +thrown open, and a young man, in a midshipman's undress uniform, entered +rather brusquely, and came up to the grating. Touching his hat precisely +as if the old lady had been his superior officer, he said, hastily: + +"Madam, if you please, I wish to see Mrs. ----; you know who I mean, I +presume? my cousin, Jacquelina." + +The portress knew well enough, for she had seen Cloudy there several +times before, but she replied: + +"You mean, young gentleman, that pious daughter, called in the world +Mrs. Grimshaw, but in religion Sister Theresa?" + +"Fal lal!--that is--I beg your pardon, Mother, but I wish to see the +lady immediately. Can I do so?" + +"The dear sister Theresa is at present making her retreat, preparatory +to taking the black veil." + +"The what!" exclaimed Cloudy, with as much horror as if it had been the +"black dose" she was going to take. + +"The black veil--and so she cannot be seen." + +"Madam, I have a very pressing form of invitation here, which people are +not very apt to disregard. Did you ever hear of a subpoena, dear +Mother?" + +The good woman never had, but she thought it evidently something +"uncanny," for she said, "I will send for the Abbess;" and she beckoned +to a nun within, and sent her on the errand--and soon the Abbess +appeared, and Cloudy made known the object of his visit. + +"Go into the parlor, sir, and Sister Theresa will attend you," said that +lady. + +And Cloudy turned to a side door on his right hand, and went into the +little receiving-room, three sides of which were like other rooms, but +the fourth side was a grating instead of a wall. Behind this grating +appeared Jacquelina--so white and thin with confinement, fasting and +vigil, and so disguised by her nun's dress as to be unrecognizable to +any but a lover's eyes: with her was the Abbess. + +Cloudy went up to the grating. Jacquelina put her hand through, and +spoke a kind greeting; but Cloudy glanced at the Abbess, looked +reproachfully at Jacquelina, and then turning to the former, said: + +"Madam, I wish to say a few words in confidence to my cousin here. Can I +be permitted to do so?" + +"Most certainly, young gentleman; Sister Theresa is not restricted. It +was at her own request that I attended her hither." + +"Thank you, dear lady--that which I have to say to--Sister +Theresa--involves the confidence of others: else I should not have made +the request that you have so kindly granted," said Cloudy, considerably +mollified. + +The Abbess curtsied in the old stately way, and retired. + +Cloudy looked at Jacquelina reproachfully. + +"Are you going to be a nun, Lina?" + +"Yes. Oh, Cloudy, Cloudy! what do you come here to disturb my thoughts +so for? Oh, Cloudy! every time you come to see me, you do so upset and +confuse my mind! You have no idea how many aves and paters, and psalms +and litanies I have to say before I can quiet my mind down again! And +now this is worse than all. Dear, dear Cloudy!--St. Mary, forgive me, I +never meant that--I meant plain Cloudy--see how you make me sin in +words! What did you send Mother Ettienne away for?" + +"That I might talk to you alone. Why do you deny me that small +consolation, Lina? How have I offended, that you should treat me so?" + +"In no way at all have you offended, dearest Cloudy--St. Peter! there it +is again--I mean only Cloudy." + +"Never mind explaining the distinction. You are going to be a nun, you +say! Very well--let that pass, too! But you must leave your convent, and +go into the world yet once more, and then I shall have opportunities of +talking to you before your return." + +"No, no; never will I leave my convent--never will I subject my soul to +such a temptation." + +"My dear Lina, I have the cabalistic words that must draw you +forth--listen! Our cousin, Thurston Willcoxen, is in prison, charged +with the murder of Marian Mayfield"--a stifled shriek from +Jacquelina--"and there is circumstantial evidence against him strong +enough to ruin him forever, if it does not cost him his life. Now, Lina, +I cannot be wrong in supposing that you know who struck that death-blow, +and that your evidence can thoroughly exonerate Thurston from suspicion! +Am I right?" + +"Yes! yes! you are right," exclaimed Jacquelina, in great agitation. + +"You will go, then?" + +"Yes! yes." + +"When?" + +"In an hour--this moment--with you." + +"With me?" + +"Yes! I may do so in such a case. I must do so! Oh! Heaven knows, I have +occasioned sin enough, without causing more against poor Thurston!" + +"You will get ready, then, immediately, dear Lina. Are you sure there +will be no opposition?" + +"Certainly not. Why, Cloudy, are you one of those who credit 'raw head +and bloody bones' fables about convents? I have no jailer but my own +conscience, Cloudy. Besides, my year's vows expired yesterday, and I am +free for awhile, before renewing them perpetually," said Jacquelina, +hurrying away to get ready. + +"And may I be swung to the yard-arm if ever I let you renew them," said +Cloudy, while he waited for her. + +Jacquelina was soon ready, and Cloudy rejoined her in the front entry, +behind the grating of which the good old portress, as she watched the +handsome middy drive off with her young postulant, devoutly crossed +herself, and diligently told her beads. + + * * * * * + +Commodore Waugh and his family were returning slowly from the South, +stopping at all the principal towns for long rests on their way +homeward. + +The commodore was now a wretched, helpless old man, depending almost for +his daily life upon the care and tenderness of Mrs. Waugh. + +Good Henrietta, with advancing years, had continued to "wax fat," and +now it was about as much as she could do, with many grunts, to get up +and down stairs. Since her double bereavement of her "Hebe" and her +"Lapwing," her kind, motherly countenance had lost somewhat of its +comfortable jollity, and her hearty mellow laugh was seldom heard. +Still, good Henrietta was passably happy, as the world goes, for she had +the lucky foundation of a happy temper and temperament--she enjoyed the +world, her friends and her creature comforts--her sound, innocent +sleep--her ambling pony, or her easy carriage--her hearty meals and her +dreamy doze in the soft armchair of an afternoon, while Mrs. L'Oiseau +droned, in a dreary voice, long homilies for the good of the commodore's +soul. + +Mrs. L'Oiseau had got to be one of the saddest and maddest fanatics that +ever afflicted a family. And there were hours when, by holding up too +graphic, terrific, and exasperating pictures of the veteran's past and +present wickedness and impenitence, and his future retribution, in the +shape of an external roasting in the lake that burneth with fire and +brimstone--she drove the old man half frantic with rage and fright! And +then she would nearly finish him by asking: "If hell was so horrible to +hear of for a little while, what must it be to feel forever and ever?" + +They had reached Charleston, on their way home. Mrs. L'Oiseau, too much +fatigued to persecute her uncle for his good, had gone to her chamber. + +The commodore was put comfortably to bed. + +And Mrs. Waugh took the day's paper, and sat down by the old man's side, +to read him the news until he should get sleepy. As she turned the paper +about, her eyes fell upon the same paragraph that had so agitated +Marian. Now, Henrietta was by no means excitable--on the contrary, she +was rather hard to be moved; but on seeing this announcement of the +arrest of Mr. Willcoxen, for the crime with which he was charged, an +exclamation of horror and amazement burst from her lips. In another +moment she had controlled herself, and would gladly have kept the +exciting news from the sick man until the morning. + +But it was too late--the commodore had heard the unwonted cry, and now, +raised upon his elbow, lay staring at her with his great fat eyes, and +insisting upon knowing what the foul fiend she meant by screeching out +in that manner? + +It was in vain to evade the question--the commodore would hear the news. +And Mrs. Waugh told him. + +"And by the bones of Paul Jones, I always believed it!" falsely swore +the commodore; and thereupon he demanded to hear "all about it." + +Mrs. Waugh commenced, and in a very unsteady voice read the long account +quite through. The commodore made no comment, except an occasional grunt +of satisfaction, until she had finished it, when he growled out: + +"Knew it!--hope they'll hang him!--d----d rascal! If it hadn't been for +him, there'd been no trouble in the family! Now call Festus to help to +turn me over, and tuck me up, Henrietta; I want to go to sleep!" + +That night Mrs. Waugh said nothing, but the next morning she proposed +hurrying homeward with all possible speed. + +But the commodore would hear of no such thing. He swore roundly that he +would not stir to save the necks of all the scoundrels in the world, +much less that of Thurston, who, if he did not kill Marian, deserved +richly to be hanged for giving poor Nace so much trouble. + +Mrs. Waugh coaxed and urged in vain. The commodore rather liked to hear +her do so, and so the longer she pleaded, the more obstinate and dogged +he grew, until at last Henrietta desisted--telling him, very +well!--justice and humanity alike required her presence near the unhappy +man, and so, whether the commodore chose to budge or not, she should +surely leave Charleston in that very evening's boat for Baltimore, so as +to reach Leonardtown in time for the trial. Upon hearing this, the +commodore swore furiously; but knowing of old that nothing could turn +Henrietta from the path of duty, and dreading above all things to lose +her comfortable attentions, and be left to the doubtful mercies of Mary +L'Oiseau, he yielded, though with the worst possible grace, swearing all +the time that he hoped the villain would swing for it yet. + +And then the trunks were packed, and the travelers resumed their +homeward journey. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +THE TRIAL. + + +The day of the trial came. It was a bright spring day, and from an early +hour in the morning the village was crowded to overflowing with people +collected from all parts of the county. The court-room was filled to +suffocation. It was with the greatest difficulty that order could be +maintained when the prisoner, in the custody of the high sheriff, was +brought into court. + +The venerable presiding judge was supposed to be unfriendly to the +accused, and the State's Attorney was known to be personally, as well as +officially, hostile to his interests. So strongly were the minds of the +people prejudiced upon one side or the other that it was with much +trouble that twelve men could be found who had not made up their +opinions as to the prisoner's innocence or guilt. At length, however, a +jury was empaneled, and the trial commenced. When the prisoner was +placed at the bar, and asked the usual question, "Guilty or not guilty?" +some of the old haughtiness curled the lip and flashed from the eye of +Thurston Willcoxen, as though he disdained to answer a charge so base; +and he replied in a low, scornful tone: + +"Not guilty, your honor." + +The opening charge of the State's Attorney had been carefully prepared. +Mr. Thomson had never in his life had so important a case upon his +hands, and he was resolved to make the most of it. His speech was well +reasoned, logical, eloquent. To destroy in the minds of the jury every +favorable impression left by the late blameless and beneficent life of +Mr. Willcoxen, he did not fail to adduce, from olden history, and from +later times, every signal instance of depravity, cloaked with hypocrisy, +in high places; he enlarged upon wolves in sheeps' clothing--Satan in an +angel's garb, and dolefully pointed out how many times the indignant +question of--"Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing?"--had +been answered by results in the affirmative. He raked up David's sin +from the ashes of ages. Where was the scene of that crime, and who was +its perpetrator--in the court of Israel, by the King of Israel--a man +after God's own heart. Could the gentlemen of the jury be surprised at +the appalling discovery so recently made, as if great crimes in high +places were impossible or new things under the sun? He did not fail to +draw a touching picture of the victim, the beautiful, young +stranger-girl, whom they all remembered and loved--who had come, an +angel of mercy, on a mission of mercy, to their shores. Was not her +beauty, her genius, her goodness--by which all there had at some time +been blessed--sufficient to save her from the knife of the assassin? No! +as he should shortly prove. Yet all these years her innocent blood had +cried to Heaven in vain; her fate was unavenged, her _manes_ unappeased. + +All the women, and all the simple-hearted and unworldly among the men, +were melted into tears, very unpropitious to the fate of Thurston; tears +not called up by the eloquence of the prosecuting attorney, so much as +by the mere allusion to the fate of Marian, once so beloved, and still +so fresh in the memories of all. + +Thurston heard all this--not in the second-hand style with which I have +summed it up--but in the first vital freshness, when it was spoken with +a logic, force, and fire that carried conviction to many a mind. +Thurston looked upon the judge--his face was stern and grave. He looked +upon the jury--they were all strangers, from distant parts of the +county, drawn by idle curiosity to the scene of trial, and arriving +quite unprejudiced. They were not his "peers," but, on the contrary, +twelve as stolid-looking brothers as ever decided the fate of a +gentleman and scholar. Thence he cast his eyes over the crowd in the +court-room. + +There were his parishioners! hoary patriarchs and gray-haired matrons, +stately men and lovely women, who, from week to week, for many years, +had still hung delighted on his discourses, as though his lips had been +touched with fire, and all his words inspired! There they were around +him again! But oh! how different the relations and the circumstances! +There they sat, with stern brows and averted faces, or downcast eyes, +and "lips that scarce their scorn forbore." No eye or lip among them +responded kindly to his searching gaze, and Thurston turned his face +away again; for an instant his soul sunk under the pall of despair that +fell darkening upon it. It was not conviction in the court he thought +of--he would probably be acquitted by the court--but what should acquit +him in public opinion? The evidence that might not be strong enough to +doom him to death would still be sufficient to destroy forever his +position and his usefulness. No eye, thenceforth, would meet his own in +friendly confidence. No hand grasp his in brotherly fellowship. + +The State's Attorney was still proceeding with his speech. He was now +stating the case, which he promised to prove by competent witnesses--how +the prisoner at the bar had long pursued his beautiful but hapless +victim--how he had been united to her by a private marriage--that he had +corresponded with her from Europe--that upon his return they had +frequently met--that the prisoner, with the treachery that would soon be +proved to be a part of his nature, had grown weary of his wife, and +transferred his attentions to another and more fortune-favored lady--and +finally, that upon the evening of the murder he had decoyed the unhappy +young lady to the fatal spot, and then and there effected his purpose. +The prosecuting attorney made this statement, not with the brevity with +which it is here reported, but with a minuteness of detail and warmth of +coloring that harrowed up the hearts of all who heard it. He finished by +saying that he should call the witnesses in the order of time +corresponding with the facts they came to prove. + +"Oliver Murray will take the stand." + +This, the first witness called, after the usual oath, deposed that he +had first seen the prisoner and the deceased together in the Library of +Congress; had overheard their conversation, and suspecting some +unfairness on the part of the prisoner, had followed the parties to the +navy yard, where he had witnessed their marriage ceremony. + +"When was the next occasion upon which you saw the prisoner?" + +"On the night of the 8th of April, 182-, on the coast, near Pine Bluff. +I had landed from a boat, and was going inland when I passed him. I did +not see his face distinctly, but recognized him by his size and form, +and peculiar air and gait. He was hurrying away, with every mark of +terror and agitation." + +This portion of Mr. Murray's testimony was so new to all as to excite +the greatest degree of surprise, and in no bosom did it arouse more +astonishment than in that of Thurston. The witness was strictly +cross-questioned by the counsel for the prisoner, but the +cross-examination failed to weaken his testimony, or to elicit anything +more favorable to the accused. Oliver Murray was then directed to stand +aside. + +The next witness was Miriam Shields. Deeply veiled and half fainting, +the poor girl was led in between Colonel and Miss Thornton, and allowed +to sit while giving evidence. When told to look at the prisoner at the +bar, she raised her death-like face, and a deep, gasping sob broke from +her bosom. But Thurston fixed his eyes kindly and encouragingly upon +her--his look said plainly: "Fear nothing, dear Miriam! Be courageous! +Do your stern duty, and trust in God." + +Miriam then identified the prisoner as the man she had twice seen alone +with Marian at night. She further testified that upon the night of April +8th, 182-, Marian had left home late in the evening to keep an +appointment--from which she had never returned. That in the pocket of +the dress she had laid off was found the note appointing the meeting +upon the beach for the night in question. Here the note was produced. +Miriam identified the handwriting as that of Mr. Willcoxen. + +Paul Douglass was next called to the stand, and required to give his +testimony in regard to the handwriting. Paul looked at the piece of +paper that was placed before him, and he was sorely tempted. How could +he swear to the handwriting unless he had actually seen the hand write +it? he asked himself. He looked at his brother. But Thurston saw the +struggle in his mind, and his countenance was stern and high, and his +look authoritative, and commanding--it said: "Paul! do not dare to +deceive yourself. You know the handwriting. Speak the truth if it kill +me." And Paul did so. + +The next witness that took the stand was Dr. Brightwell--the good old +physician gave his evidence very reluctantly--it went to prove the fact +of the prisoner's absence from the deathbed of his grandfather upon the +night of the reputed murder, and his distracted appearance when +returning late in the morning. + +"Why do you say reputed murder?" + +"Because, sir, I never consider the fact of a murder established, until +the body of the victim has been found." + +"You may stand down." + +Dr. Solomon Weismann was next called to the stand, and corroborated the +testimony of the last witness. + +Several other witnesses were then called in succession, whose testimony +being only corroborative, was not very important. And the prisoner was +remanded, and the court adjourned until ten o'clock the next morning. + +"Life will be saved, but position and usefulness in this neighborhood +gone forever, Paul," said Thurston, as they went out. + +"Evidence very strong--very conclusive to our minds, yet not sufficient +to convict him," said one gentleman to another. + +"I am of honest Dr. Brightwell's opinion--that the establishment of a +murder needs as a starting point the finding of the body; and, moreover, +that the conviction of a murderer requires an eye-witness to the deed. +The evidence, so far as we have heard it, is strong enough to ruin the +man, but not strong enough to hang him," said a third. + +"Ay! but we have not heard all, or the most important part of the +testimony. The State's Attorney has not fired his great gun yet," said a +fourth, as the crowd elbowed, pushed, and struggled out of the +court-room. + +Those from distant parts of the county remained in the village all +night--those nearer returned home to come back in the morning. + +The second day of the trial, the village was more crowded than before. +At ten o'clock the court opened, the prisoner was shortly afterward +brought in, and the prosecution renewed its examination of witnesses. +The next witness that took the stand was a most important one. John +Miles, captain of the schooner _Plover_. He deposed that in the month of +April, 182-, he was mate in the schooner _Blanch_, of which his father +was the captain. That in said month the prisoner at the bar had hired +his father's vessel to carry off a lady whom the prisoner declared to be +his own wife; that they were to take her to the Bermudas. That to effect +their object, his father and himself had landed near Pine Bluff; the +night was dark, yet he soon discerned the lady walking alone upon the +beach. They were bound to wait for the arrival of the prisoner, and a +signal from him before approaching the lady. They waited some time, +watching from their cover the lady as she paced impatiently up and down +the sands. At length they saw the prisoner approaching. He was closely +wrapped up in his cloak, and his hat was pulled over his eyes, but they +recognized him well by his air and gait. They drew nearer still, keeping +in the shadow, waiting for the signal. The lady and the prisoner met--a +few words passed between them--of which he, the deponent, only heard +"Thurston?" "Yes, Thurston!" and then the prisoner raised his arm and +struck, and the lady fell. His father was a cautious man, and when he +saw the prisoner rush up the cliff and disappear, when he saw that the +lady was dead, and that the storm was beginning to rage violently and +the tide was coming in, and fearing, besides, that he should get into +trouble, he hurried into the boat and put off and boarded the schooner, +and as soon as possible set sail for Bermuda. They had kept away from +this coast for years, that is to say, as long as the father lived. + +John Miles was cross-examined by Mr. Romford, but without effect. + +This testimony bore fatally upon the prisoner's cause--the silence of +consternation reigned through the crowd. + +Thurston Willcoxen, when he heard this astounding evidence, first +thought that the witness was perjured, but when he looked closely upon +his open, honest face, and fearless eye and free bearing, he saw that no +consciousness of falsehood was there and he could but grant that the +witness, naturally deceived by "foregone conclusions," had inevitably +mistaken the real murderer for himself. + +Darker and darker lowered the pall of fate over him--the awful stillness +of the court was oppressive, was suffocating; a deathly faintness came +upon him, for now, for the first time, he fully realized the awful doom +that threatened him. Not long his nature bowed under the burden--his +spirit rose to throw it off, and once more the fine head was proudly +raised, nor did it once sink again. The last witness for the prosecution +was called and took the stand, and deposed that he lived ten miles down +the coast in an isolated, obscure place; that on the first of May, 182-, +the body of a woman had been found at low tide upon the beach, that it +had the appearance of having been very long in the water--the clothing +was respectable, the dress was dark blue stuff, but was faded in +spots--there was a ring on the finger, but the hand was so swollen that +it could not be got off. His poor neighbors of the coast assembled. They +made an effort to get the coroner, but he could not be found. And the +state of the body demanded immediate burial. When cross-questioned by +Lawyer Romford, the witness said that they had not then heard of any +missing or murdered lady, but had believed the body to be that of a +shipwrecked passenger, until they heard of Miss Mayfield's fate. + +Miriam was next recalled. She came in as before, supported between +Colonel and Miss Thornton. Every one who saw the poor girl, said that +she was dying. When examined, she deposed that Marian, when she left +home, had worn a blue merino dress--and, yes, she always wore a little +locket ring on her finger. Drooping and fainting as she was, Miriam was +allowed to leave the court-room. This closed the evidence of the +prosecution. + +The defense was taken up and conducted with a great deal of skill. Mr. +Romford enlarged upon the noble character his client had ever maintained +from childhood to the present time--they all knew him--he had been born +and had ever lived among them--what man or woman of them all would have +dared to suspect him of such a crime? He spoke warmly of his truth, +fidelity, Christian zeal, benevolence, philanthropy and great public +benefits. + +I have no space nor time to give a fair idea of the logic and eloquence +with which Mr. Romford met the charges of the State's Attorney, nor the +astute skill with which he tried to break down the force of the evidence +for the prosecution. Then he called the witnesses for the defense. They +were all warm friends of Mr. Willcoxen, all had known him from boyhood, +none would believe that under any possible circumstances he could commit +the crime for which he stood indicted. They testified to his well-known +kindness, gentleness and benevolence--his habitual forbearance and +command of temper, even under the most exasperating provocations--they +swore to his generosity, fidelity and truthfulness in all the relations +of life. In a word, they did the very best they could to save his life +and honor--but the most they could do was very little before the force +of such evidence as stood arrayed against him. And all men saw that +unless an _alibi_ could be proved, Thurston Willcoxen was lost! Oh! for +that _alibi_. Paul Douglass was again undergoing an awful temptation. +Why, he asked himself, why should he not perjure his soul, and lose it, +too, to save his brother's life and honor from fatal wrong? And if there +had not been in Paul's heart a love of truth greater than his fear of +hell, his affection for Thurston would have triumphed, he would have +perjured himself. + +The defense here closed. The State's Attorney did not even deem it +necessary to speak again, and the judge proceeded to charge the jury. +They must not, he said, be blinded by the social position, clerical +character, youth, talents, accomplishments or celebrity of the +prisoner--with however dazzling a halo these might surround him. They +must deliberate coolly upon the evidence that had been laid before them, +and after due consideration of the case, if there was a doubt upon their +minds, they were to let the prisoner have the full benefit of +it--wherever there was the least uncertainty it was right to lean to the +side of mercy. + +The case was then given to the jury. The jury did not leave their box, +but counseled together in a low voice for half an hour, during which a +death-like silence, a suffocating atmosphere filled the court-room. + +Thurston alone was calm, his soul had collected all its force to meet +the shock of whatever fate might come--honor or dishonor, life or death! + +Presently the foreman of the jury arose, followed by the others. + +Every heart stood still. + +"Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon your verdict?" demanded the +judge. + +"Yes, your honor," responded the foreman, on the part of his colleagues. + +"How say you--is the prisoner at the bar 'Guilty or not guilty?'" + +"Not guilty!" cried the shrill tones of a girl near the outer door, +toward which all eyes, in astonishment and inquiry, were now turned, to +see a slight female figure, in the garb of a Sister of Mercy, clinging +to the arm of Cloudesley Mornington, and who was now pushing and +elbowing his way through the crowd toward the bench. + +All gave way--many that were seated arose to their feet, and spoke in +eager whispers, or looked over each others' heads. + +"Order! silence in the court!" shouted the marshal. + +"Your honor--this lady is a vitally important witness for the defense," +said Cloudy, pushing his way into the presence of the judge, leaving his +female companion standing before the bench and then hurrying to the +dock, where he grasped the hand of the prisoner, exclaiming, +breathlessly: "Saved--Thurston! Saved!" + +"Order! silence!" called out the marshal, by way of making himself +agreeable--for there was silence in the court, where all the audience at +least were more anxious to hear than to speak. + +"Your honor, I move that the new witness be heard," said Mr. Romford. + +"The defense is closed--the charge given to the jury, who have decided +upon their verdict," answered the State's Attorney. + +"The verdict has not been rendered, the jury have the privilege of +hearing this new witness," said the judge. + +The jury were unanimous in the resolution to withhold their verdict +until they had heard. + +This being decided, the Sister of Mercy took the stand, threw aside her +long, black veil, and revealed the features of Jacquelina; but so pale, +weary, anxious and terrified, as to be scarcely recognizable. + +The usual oath was administered. + +And while Cloudy stood triumphantly by the side of Mr. Willcoxen, +Jacquelina prepared to give her evidence. + +She was interrupted by a slight disturbance near the door, and the +rather noisy entrance of several persons, whom the crowd, on beholding, +recognized as Commodore Waugh, his wife, his niece, and his servant. +Some among them seemed to insist upon being brought directly into the +presence of the judge and jury--but the officer near the door pointed +out to them the witness on the stand, waiting to give testimony; and on +seeing her they subsided into quietness, and suffered themselves to be +set aside for a while. + +When this was over--a lady, plainly dressed, and close-veiled, entered, +and addressed a few words to the same janitor. But the latter replied as +he had to the others, by pointing to the witness on the stand. The +veiled lady seemed to acquiesce, and sat down where the officer directed +her. + +"Order! silence in the court!" cried the marshal, not to be behindhand. + +And order and silence reigned when the Sister gave in her evidence as +follows: + +"My name is Jacquelina L'Oiseau--not Grimshaw--for I never was the wife +of Dr. Grimshaw. I do not like to speak further of myself, yet it is +necessary, to make my testimony clear. While yet a child I was +contracted to Dr. Grimshaw in a civil marriage, which was never +ratified. I was full of mischief in these days, and my greatest pleasure +was to torment and provoke my would-be bridegroom; alas! alas! it was to +that wanton spirit that all the disaster is owing. Thurston Willcoxen +and Marian Mayfield were my intimate friends. On the morning of the 8th +of April, 182-, they were both at Luckenough. Thurston left early. After +he was gone Marian chanced to drop a note, which I picked up and read. +It was in the handwriting of Thurston Willcoxen, and it appointed a +meeting with Marian upon the beach, near Pine Bluff, for that evening." + +Here Mr. Romford placed in her hands the scrap of paper that had already +formed such an important part of the evidence against the prisoner. + +"Is that the note of which you speak?" + +"Yes--that is the note. And when I picked it up the wanton spirit of +mischief inspired me with the wish to use it for the torment of Dr. +Grimshaw, who was easily provoked to jealously! Oh! I never thought it +would end so fatally! I affected to lose the note, and left it in his +way. I saw him pick it up and read it. I felt sure he thought--as I +intended he should think--it was for me. There were other circumstances +also to lead him to the same conclusion. He dropped the note where he +had picked it up and pretended not to have seen it; afterwards I in the +same way restored it to Marian. To carry on my fatal jest, I went home +in the carriage with Marian, to Old Field Cottage, which stands near the +coast. I left Marian there and set out to return to Luckenough--laughing +all the time, alas! to think that Dr. Grimshaw had gone to the coast to +intercept what he supposed to be my meeting with Thurston! Oh, God, I +never thought such jests could be so dangerous! Alas! alas! he met +Marian Mayfield in the dark, and between the storm without and the storm +within--the blindness of night and the blindness of rage--he stabbed her +before he found out his mistake, and he rushed home with her innocent +blood on his hands and clothing--rushed home and into my presence, to +reproach me as the cause of his crime, to fill my bosom with undying +remorse, and then to die! He had in the crisis of his passion, ruptured +an artery and fell--so that the blood found upon his hands and clothing +was supposed to be his own. No one knew the secret of his blood +guiltiness but myself. In my illness and delirium that followed I +believe I dropped some words that made my aunt, Mrs. Waugh, and Mr. +Cloudesley Mornington, suspect something; but I never betrayed my +knowledge of the dead man's unintentional crime, and would not do so +now, but to save the innocent. May I now sit down?" + +No! the State's Attorney wanted to take her in hand, and cross-examine +her, which he began to do severely, unsparingly. But as she had told the +exact truth, though not in the clearest style, the more the lawyer +sifted her testimony, the clearer and more evident its truthfulness and +point became; until there seemed at length nothing to do but acquit the +prisoner. But courts of law are proverbially fussy, and now the State's +Attorney was doing his best to invalidate the testimony of the last +witness. + +Turn we from them to the veiled lady, where she sat in her obscure +corner of the room, hearing all this. + +Oh! who can conceive, far less portray the joy, the unspeakable joy that +filled her heart nearly to breaking! He was guiltless! Thurston, her +beloved, was guiltless in intention, as he was in deed! the thought of +crime had not been near his heart! his long remorse had been occasioned +by what he had unintentionally made her suffer. He was all that he had +lately appeared to the world! all that he had at first appeared to +her!--faithful, truthful, constant, noble, generous--her heart was +vindicated! her love was not the madness, the folly, the weakness that +her intellectual nature had often stamped it to be! Her love was +vindicated, for he deserved it all! Oh! joy unspeakable--oh! joy +insupportable! + +She was a strong, calm, self-governing woman--not wont to be overcome by +any event or any emotion--yet now her head, her whole form, drooped +forward, and she sank upon the low balustrade in front of her +seat--weighed down by excess of happiness--happiness so absorbing that +for a time she forgot everything else; but soon she remembered that her +presence was required near the bench, to put a stop to the debate +between the lawyers, and she strove to quell the tumultuous excitement +of her feelings, and to recover self-command before going among them. + +In the meantime, near the bench, the counsel for the prisoner had +succeeded in establishing the validity of the challenged testimony, and +the case was once more about to be recommitted to the jury, when the +lady, who had been quietly making her way through the crowd toward the +bench, stood immediately in front of the judge, raised her veil, and +Marian Mayfield stood revealed. + +With a loud cry the prisoner sprang upon his feet; but was immediately +captured by two officers, who fancied he was about to escape. + +Marian did not speak one word, she could not do so, nor was it +necessary--there she stood alive among them--they all knew her--the +judge, the officers, the lawyers, the audience--there she stood alive +among them--it was enough! + +The audience arose in a mass, and "Marian!" "Marian Mayfield!" was the +general exclamation, as all pressed toward the newcomer. + +Jacquelina, stunned with the too sudden joy, swooned in the arms of +Cloudy, who, between surprise and delight, had nearly lost his own +senses. + +The people pressed around Marian, with exclamations and inquiries. + +The marshal forgot to be disorderly with vociferations of "Order!" and +stood among the rest, agape for news. + +Marian recovered her voice and spoke: + +"I am not here to give any information; what explanation I have to make +is due first of all to Mr. Willcoxen, who has the right to claim it of +me when he pleases," and turning around she moved toward the dock, +raising her eyes to Thurston's face, and offering her hand. + +How he met that look--how he clasped that hand--need not be said--their +hearts were too full for speech. + +The tumult in the court-room was at length subdued by the rising of the +judge to make a speech--a very brief one: + +"Mr. Willcoxen is discharged, and the court adjourned," and then the +judge came down from his seat, and the officers cried, "make way for the +court to pass." And the way was made. The judge came up to the group, +and shook hands first with Mr. Willcoxen, whom he earnestly +congratulated, and then with Marian, who was an old and esteemed +acquaintance, and so bowing gravely, he passed out. + +Still the crowd pressed on, and among them came Commodore Waugh and his +family, for whom way was immediately made. + +Mrs. Waugh wept and smiled, and exclaimed: "Oh! Hebe! Oh! Lapwing!" + +The commodore growled out certain inarticulate anathemas, which he +intended should be taken as congratulations, since the people seemed to +expect it of him. + +And Mary L'Oiseau pulled down her mouth, cast up her eyes and crossed +herself when she saw the consecrated hand of Sister Theresa clasped in +that of Cloudy! + +But Thurston's high spirit could not brook this scene an instant longer. +And love as well as pride required its speedy close. Marian was resting +on his arm--he felt the clasp of her dear hand--he saw her living +face--the angel brow--the clear eyes--the rich auburn tresses, rippling +around the blooming cheek--he heard her dulcet tones--yet--it seemed +too like a dream!--he needed to realize this happiness. + +"Friends," he said, "I thank you for the interest you show in us. For +those whose faith in me remained unshaken in my darkest hour, I find no +words good enough to express what I shall ever feel. But you must all +know how exhausting this day has been, and how needful repose is"--his +eyes here fell fondly and proudly upon Marian--"to this lady on my arm. +After to-morrow we shall be happy to see any of our friends at +Dell-Delight." And bowing slightly from right to left, he led his Marian +through the opening crowd. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +REUNION. + + +Who shall follow them, or intrude on the sacredness of their +reconciliation, or relate with what broken tones, and frequent stops and +tears and smiles, and clinging embraces, their mutual explanations were +made? + +At last Marian, raising her head from his shoulder, said: + +"But I come to you a bankrupt, dear Thurston! I have inherited and +expended a large fortune since we parted--and now I am more than +penniless, for I stand responsible for large sums of money owed by my +'Orphans Home' and 'Emigrants Help'--money that I had intended to raise +by subscription." + +"Now, I thank God abundantly for the wealth that He has given me. Your +fortune, dearest Marian, has been nobly appropriated--and for the rest, +it is my blessed privilege to assume all your responsibilities--and I +rejoice that they are great! for, sweetest wife, and fairest lady, I +feel that I never can sufficiently prove how much I love and reverence +you--how much I would and ought to sacrifice for you!" + +"And even now, dear Thurston, I came hither, bound on a mission to the +Western prairies, to find a suitable piece of land for a colony of +emigrants." + +"I know it, fairest and dearest lady, I know it all. I will lift that +burden from your shoulders, too, and all liabilities of yours do I +assume--oh! my dear Marian! with how much joy! and I will labor with and +for you, until all your responsibilities of every sort are discharged, +and my liege lady is free to live her own life!" + +This scene took place in the private parlor of the hotel, while Paul +Douglass was gone to Colonel Thornton's lodgings, to carry the glad +tidings to Miriam, and also to procure a carriage for the conveyance of +the whole party to Dell-Delight. + +He returned at last, accompanied by Miriam, whom he tenderly conducted +into the room, and who, passing by all others, tottered forward, and +sank, weeping, at the feet of Mr. Willcoxen, and clasping his knees, +still wept, as if her heart would break. + +Thurston stooped and raised her, pressed the kiss of forgiveness on her +young brow, and then whispered: + +"Miriam, have you forgotten that there is another here who claims your +attention?" took her by the hand and led her to Marian. + +The young girl was shy and silent, but Marian drew to her bosom, saying: + +"Has my 'baby' forgotten me? And so, you would have been an avenger, +Miriam. Remember, all your life, dear child, that such an office is +never to be assumed by an erring human creature. 'Vengeance is mine, and +I will repay, saith the Lord.'" And kissing Miriam fondly; she resigned +her to Paul's care, and turned, and gave her own hand to Thurston, who +conducted her to the carriage, and then returned for little Angel, who +all this time had sat demurely in a little parlor chair. + +They were followed by Paul and Miriam, and so set forth for +Dell-Delight. + +But little more remains to be told. + +Thurston resigned his pastoral charge of the village Church; settled up +his business in the neighborhood; procured a discreet woman to keep +house at Dell-Delight; left Paul, Miriam and poor Fanny in her care, and +set out with Marian on their western journey, to select the site for the +settlement of her emigrant _protégés_. After successfully accomplishing +this mission, they returned East, and embarked for Liverpool, and thence +to London, where Marian dissolved her connection with the "Emigrants' +Help," and bade adieu to her "Orphans' Home." Thurston made large +donations to both these institutions. And Marian saw that her place was +well supplied to the "Orphans' Home" by another competent woman. Then +they returned to America. Their travels had occupied more than twelve +months. And their expenses, of all sorts, had absorbed more than a third +of Mr. Willcoxen's princely fortune--yet with what joy was it lavished +by his hand, who felt he could not do too much for his priceless Marian. + +On their return home a heartfelt gratification met them--it was that the +parish had shown their undiminished confidence in Mr. Willcoxen, and +their high appreciation of his services, by keeping his pulpit open for +him. And a few days after his settlement at home a delegation of the +vestry waited upon him to solicit his acceptance of the ministry. And +after talking with his "liege lady," as he fondly and proudly termed +Marian, Mr. Willcoxen was well pleased to return a favorable answer. + +And in a day or two Thurston and Marian were called upon to give +decision in another case, to wit: + +Jacquelina had not returned to Bethlehem, nor renewed her vows; but had +doffed her nun's habit for a young lady's dress, and remained at +Luckenough. Cloudy had not failed to push his suit with all his might. +But Jacquelina still hesitated--she did not know, she said, but she +thought she had no right to be happy, as other people had, she had +caused so much trouble in the world, she reckoned she had better go back +to her convent. + +"And because you unintentionally occasioned some sorrow, now happily +over, to some people, you would atone for the fault by adding one more +to the list of victims, and making me miserable. Bad logic, Lina, and +worse religion." + +Jacquelina did not know--she could not decide--after so many grave +errors, she was afraid to trust herself. The matter was then +referred--of all men in the world--to the commodore, who graciously +replied, that they might go to the demon for him. But as Cloudy and Lina +had no especial business with his Satanic Majesty they declined to avail +themselves of the permission, and consulted Mrs. Waugh, whose deep, +mellow laugh preceded her answer, when she said: + +"Take heart, Lapwing! take heart, and all the happiness you can possibly +get! I have lived a long time, and seen a great many people, good and +bad, and though I have sometimes met people who were not so happy as +they merited--yet I never have seen any one happier than they deserved +to be! and that they cannot be so, seems to be a law of nature that +ought to reconcile us very much to the apparent flourishing of the +wicked." + +But Mrs. L'Oiseau warned her daughter not to trust to "Aunty," who +was so good-natured, and although such a misguided woman, that if she +had her will she would do away with all punishment--yes, even with +Satan and purgatory! But Jacquelina had much less confidence in Mrs. +L'Oiseau than in Mrs. Waugh; and so she told Cloudy, who thought that +he had waited already quite long enough, to wait until Marian and +Thurston came home, and if they thought it would be right for her to be +happy--why--then--maybe--she might be! But the matter must be referred +to them. + +And now it was referred to them, by the sorely tried Cloudy. And they +gave Jacquelina leave to be "happy." And she was happy! And as for +Cloudy, poor, constant fellow! he was so overjoyed that he declared he +would petition the Legislature to change his name as no longer +appropriate, for though his morning had been cloudy enough, his day was +going to be a very bright one! + +When Mrs. L'Oiseau heard of this engagement, she crossed herself, and +told her beads, and vowed that the world was growing so wicked that she +could no longer live in it. And she commenced preparations to retire to +a convent, to which in fact she soon after went, and where in strict +truth, she was likely to be much happier than her nature would permit +her to be elsewhere. + +Cloudy and Lina were very quietly married, and took up their abode at +the pleasant farmhouse of Locust Hill, which was repaired and +refurnished for their reception. But if the leopard cannot change his +spots, nor the Ethiope his skin--neither can the fairy permanently +change her nature; for no sooner was Jacko's happiness secured, than the +elfish spirit, the lightest part of her nature, effervesced to the +top--for the torment of Cloudy. Jacko and Cloudy, even, had one +quarrel--it was upon the first occasion after their marriage, of his +leaving her to join his ship--and when the whilom Sister of Charity +drove Cloudy nearly frantic by insisting--whether in jest or earnest no +one on earth could tell--upon donning the little middy's uniform and +going with him! However, the quarrel happily was never renewed, for +before the next time of sailing, there appeared a certain tiny Cloudy at +home, that made the land quite as dear as the sea to its mother. And +this little imp became Mrs. Waugh's especial pet. And if Jacquelina did +not train the little scion very straight, at least she did not twist him +awry. And she even tried, in her fitful, capricious way, to reform her +own manners, that she might form those of her little children. And Mrs. +Waugh and dear Marian aided her and encouraged her in her uncertain +efforts. + +About this time, Paul and Miriam were united, and went to housekeeping +in the pretty villa built for them upon the site of Old Field Cottage by +Thurston, and furnished for them by Mrs. Waugh. + +And a very pleasant country neighborhood they formed--these three young +families--of Dell-Delight, Locust Hill and the villa. + +Two other important events occurred in their social circle--first, poor +harmless Fanny passed smilingly to her heavenly home, and all thought it +very well. + +And one night Commodore Waugh, after eating a good, hearty supper, was +comfortably tucked up in bed, and went into a sound, deep sleep from +which he never more awoke. May he rest in peace. But do you think Mrs. +Waugh did not cry about it for two weeks, and ever after speak of him as +the poor, dear commodore? + +But Henrietta was of too healthful a nature to break her heart for the +loss of a very good man, and it was not likely she was going to do so +for the missing of a very uncomfortable one; and so in a week or two +more her happy spirits returned, and she began to realize to what +freedom, ease and cheerfulness she had fallen heir! Now she could live +and breathe, and go and come without molestation. Now when she wished to +open her generous heart to the claims of affection in the way of helping +Lapwing or Miriam, who were neither of them very rich--or to the greater +claims of humanity in the relief of the suffering poor, or the pardon of +delinquent servants, she could do so to her utmost content, and without +having to accompany her kind act with a deep sigh at the anticipation of +the parlor storm it would raise at home. And though Mrs. Henrietta still +"waxed fat," her good flesh was no longer an incumbrance to her--the +leaven of cheerfulness lightened the whole mass. + +Mrs. Waugh had brought her old maid Jenny back. Jenny had begged to come +home to "old mistress" for she said it was "'stonishin how age-able," +she felt, though nobody might believe it, she was "gettin' oler and +oler, ebery singly day" of her life, and she wanted to end her days +"'long o' ole mistress." + +Old mistress was rich and good, and Luckenough was a quiet, comfortable +home, where the old maid was very sure of being lodged, boarded, and +clothed almost as well as old mistress herself--not that these selfish +considerations entered largely into Jenny's mind, for she really loved +Mrs. Henrietta. + +And old mistress and old maid were never happier than on some fine, +clear day, when seated on their two old mules, they ambled along through +forest and over field, to spend a day with Lapwing or with Hebe--or +perhaps with the "Pigeon Pair," as they called the new married couple at +the villa. + +Yes; there was a time when Mrs. Henrietta was happier still! It was, +when upon some birthday or other festival, she would gather all the +young families--Thurston and Hebe, Cloudy and Lapwing, the Pigeons, and +all the babies, in the big parlor of Luckenough, and sit surrounded by a +flock of tiny lapwings, hebes and pigeons, forming a group that our +fairy saucily called, "The old hen and chickens." + +And what shall we say in taking leave of Thurston and Marian? He had had +some faults, as you have seen--but the conquering of faults is the +noblest conquest, and he had achieved such a victory. He called Marian +the angel of his salvation. Year by year their affection deepened and +strengthened, and drew them closer in heart and soul and purpose. From +their home as from a center emanated a healthful, beneficent and +elevating influence, happily felt through all their social circle. A +lovely family grew around them--and among the beautiful children none +were more tenderly nursed or carefully trained than the little waif, +Angel. And in all the pleasant country neighborhood, the sweetest and +the happiest home is that of Dell-Delight. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MISSING BRIDE*** + + +******* This file should be named 14382-8.txt or 14382-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/3/8/14382 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/old/14382-8.zip b/old/14382-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1254b98 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14382-8.zip diff --git a/old/14382.txt b/old/14382.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1453797 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14382.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12229 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Missing Bride, by Mrs. E. D. E. N. +Southworth + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Missing Bride + +Author: Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth + +Release Date: December 20, 2004 [eBook #14382] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MISSING BRIDE*** + + +E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +THE MISSING BRIDE + +A Novel + +by + +MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH + +Author of _Self-Raised_, _Ishmael_, _Retribution_, _The Bridal Eve_, +_The Bride's Fate_, _Mother-in-Law_, _The Haunted Homestead_, _The +Bride's Dowry_, _Victor's Triumph_, _A Fortune Seeker_, etc. + + + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +LUCKENOUGH. + + +Deep in the primeval forest of St. Mary's, lying between the Patuxent +and the Wicomico Rivers, stands the ancient manor house of Luckenough. + +The traditions of the neighborhood assert the origin of the manor and +its quaint, happy and not unmusical name to have been--briefly this: + +That the founder of Luckenough was Alexander Kalouga, a Polish soldier +of fortune, some time in the service of Cecilius Calvert, Baron of +Baltimore, first Lord Proprietary of Maryland. This man had, previous to +his final emigration to the New World, passed through a life of the most +wonderful vicissitudes--wonderful even for those days of romance and +adventure. It was said that he was born in one quarter of the globe, +educated in another, initiated into warfare in the third and buried in +the fourth. In his boyhood he was the friend and pupil of Guy Fawkes; he +engaged in the Gunpowder Plot, and after witnessing the terrible fate of +his master, he escaped to Spanish America, where he led for years a sort +of buccaneer life. He afterwards returned to Europe, and then followed +years of military service wherever his hireling sword was needed. But +the soldier of fortune was ill-paid by his mistress. His misfortunes +were as proverbial as his bravery, or as his energetic complaints of +"ill luck" could make them. He had drawn his sword in almost every +quarrel of his time, on every battlefield in Europe, to find himself, +at the end of his military career, no richer than he was at its +beginning--save in wounds and scars, honor and glory, and a wife and +son. It was at this point of his life that he met with Leonard Calvert, +and embarked with him for Maryland, where he afterwards received from +the Lord Proprietary the grant of the manor "aforesaid." It is stated +that when the old soldier went with some companions to take a look at +his new possessions, he was so pleased with the beauty, grandeur, +richness and promise of the place that a glad smile broke over his dark, +storm-beaten, battle-scarred face, and he remained still "smiling as in +delighted visions," until one of his friends spoke and said: + +"Well, comrade! Is this luck enough?" + +"Yaw, mine frient!" answered the new lord of the manor in his broken +English, cordially grasping the hand of his companion, "dish ish loke +enough!" + +Different constructions have been put upon this simple answer--first, +that Lukkinnuf was the original Indian name of the tract; secondly, that +Alexander Kalouga christened his manor in honor of Loekenoff, the native +village of his wife, the heroic Marie Zelenski, the companion of all his +campaigns and voyages, and the first lady of his manor; thirdly, that +the grateful and happy soldier had only meant to express his perfect +satisfaction with his fortune, and to say: + +"Yes, this is luck enough! luck enough to repay me for all the past!" +Be it as it may, from time immemorial the place has been "Luckenough." + +The owner in 1814 was Commodore Nickolas Waugh, who inherited the +property in right of his mother, the only child and heiress of Peter +Kalouga. + +This man had the constitution and character, not of his mother's, but of +his father's family--a hardy, rigorous, energetic Montgomery race, full +of fire, spirit and enterprise. At the age of twelve Nickolas lost his +father. + +At fifteen he began to weary of the tedium of Luckenough, varied only by +the restraint of the academy during term. And at sixteen he rebelled +against the rule of his indolent lymphatic mamma, broke through the +reins of domestic government, escaped to Baltimore and shipped as cabin +boy in a merchantman. + +Nickolas Waugh went through many adventures, served on board +merchantmen, privateers and haply pirates, too, sailed to every part of +the known world, and led a wild, reckless and sinful life, until the +breaking out of the Revolutionary War, when he took service with Paul +Jones, the American Sea King, and turned the brighter part of his +character up to the light. He performed miracles of valor--achieved for +himself a name and a post-captain's rank in the infant navy and finally +was permitted to retire with a bullet lodged under his shoulder blade, a +piece of silver trepanned in the top of his skull, a deep sword-cut +across his face from the right temple over his nose to the left +cheek--and with the honorary title of commodore. + +He was a perfect beauty about this time, no doubt, but that did not +prevent him from receiving the hand of his cousin Henrietta Kalouga, who +had waited for him many a weary year. + +No children blessed his late marriage, and as year after year passed, +until himself and his wife were well stricken in years, people, who +never lost interest in the great estate, began to wonder to which among +his tribe of impoverished relations Nickolas Waugh would bequeath the +manor of Luckenough. + +His choice fell at length upon his orphan grandniece, the beautiful +Edith Lance, whom he took from the Catholic Orphan Asylum, where she had +found refuge since the death of her parents and placed in one of the +best convent schools in the South. + +At the age of seventeen Edith was brought home from school and +established at Luckenough as the adopted daughter and acknowledged +heiress of her uncle. + +Delicate, dreamy and retiring, and tinged with a certain pensiveness, +the effect of too much early sorrow and seclusion upon a very sensitive +temperament, Edith better loved the solitude of the grand old forest of +St. Mary's or the loneliness of her own shaded rooms at Luckenough than +any society the humdrum neighborhood could offer her. And when at the +call of social duty she did go into company, she exercised a refining +and subduing influence, involuntary as it was potent. + +Yet in that lovely, fragile form, in that dreaming, poetical soul, lay +undeveloped a latent power of heroism soon to be aroused into action. +"Darling of all hearts and eyes," Edith had been at home a year when the +War of 1812 broke out. + +Maryland, as usual, contributed her large proportion of volunteers to +the defense of the country. All men capable of bearing arms rapidly +mustered into companies and hastened to put themselves at the disposal +of the government. + +The lower counties of Maryland were left comparatively unprotected. Old +men, women, children and negroes were all that remained in charge of the +farms and plantations. Yet remote from the scenes of conflict and +hitherto undisturbed by the convulsions of the great world, they reposed +in fancied safety and never thought of such unprecedented misfortunes as +the evils of the war penetrating to their quiet homes. + +But their rest of security was broken by a tremendous shock. The British +fleet under Admiral Sir A. Cockburn suddenly entered the Chesapeake. And +the quiet, lonely shores of the bay became the scene of a warfare +scarcely paralleled in atrocity in ancient or modern times. + +If among the marauding band of licensed pirates and assassins there was +one name more dreaded, more loathed and accursed than the rest, it was +that of the brutal and ferocious Thorg--the frequent leader of foraging +parties, the unsparing destroyer of womanhood, infancy and age, the +jackal and purveyor of Admiral Cockburn. If anywhere there was a +beautiful woman unprotected, or a rich plantation house ill-defended, +this jackal was sure to scent out "the game" for his master, the lion. +And many were the comely maidens and youthful wives seized and carried +off by this monster. + +The Patuxent and the Wicomico, with the coast between them, offered no +strong temptation to a rapacious foe, and the inhabitants reposed in the +fancied security of their isolation and unimportance. The business of +life went on, faintly and sorrowfully, to be sure, but still went on. +The village shops at B---- and C---- were kept open, though tended +chiefly by women and boys. The academicians at the little college +pursued their studies or played at forming juvenile military companies. +The farms and plantations were cultivated chiefly under the direction of +ladies whose husbands, sons and brothers were absent with the army. No +one thought of danger to St. Mary's. + +Most terrible was the awakening from this dream of safety, when, on the +morning of the 17th of August, the division under the command of Admiral +Cockburn--the most dreaded and abhorred of all--was seen to enter the +mouth of the Patuxent in full sail for Benedict. Nearly all the +able-bodied men were absent with the army at the time when the combined +military and naval forces tinder Admiral Cockburn and General Ross +landed at that place. None remained to guard the homes but aged men, +women, infants and negroes. A universal panic seized the neighborhood +and nothing occurred to the defenseless people but instant flight. +Females and children were hastily put into carriages, the most valuable +items of plate or money hastily packed up, negroes mustered and the +whole caravan put upon a hurried march for Prince George's, Montgomery +or other upper counties of the State. With very few exceptions, the +farms and plantations were evacuated and left to the mercy of the +invaders. + +At sunrise all was noise, bustle and confusion at Luckenough. + +The lawn was filled with baggage wagons, horses, mules, cows, oxen, +sheep, swine, baskets of poultry, barrels of provisions, boxes of +property, and men and maid servants hurrying wildly about among them, +carrying trunks and parcels, loading carts, tackling harness, marshaling +cattle and making other preparations for a rapid retreat toward +Commodore Waugh's patrimonial estate in Montgomery County. + +Edith was placed upon her pony and attended by her old maid Jenny and +her old groom Oliver. + +Commodore and Mrs. Waugh entered the family carriage, which they pretty +well filled up. Mrs. Waugh's woman sat upon the box behind and the +Commodore's man drove the coach. + +And the whole family party set forward on their journey. They went in +advance of the caravan so as not to be hindered and inconvenienced by +its slow and cumbrous movements. A ride of three miles through the old +forest brought them to the open, hilly country. Here the road forked. +And here the family were to separate. + +It had been arranged that as Edith was too delicate to bear the forced +march of days' and nights' continuance before they could reach +Montgomery, she should proceed to Hay Hill, a plantation near the line +of Charles County, owned by Colonel Fairlie, whose young daughter Fanny, +recently made a bride, had been the schoolmate of Edith. + +Here, at the fork, the party halted to take leave. + +Commodore Waugh called his niece to ride up to the carriage window and +gave her many messages for Colonel Fairlie, for Fanny and for Fanny's +young bridegroom, and many charges to be careful and prudent, and not to +ride out unattended, etc. + +And then he called up the two old negroes and charged them to see their +young mistress safely at Hay Hill and then to return to Luckenough and +take care of the house and such things as were felt behind in case the +British should not visit it, and to shut up the house after them in case +they should come and rob it and leave it standing. Two wretched old +negroes would be in little personal danger from the soldiers. + +So argued Commodore Waugh as he took leave of them and gave orders for +the carriage to move on up the main branch of the road leading north +toward Prince George's and Montgomery. + +But so argued not the poor old negroes, as they followed Edith up the +west branch of the road that led to Charles County. + +This pleasant road ran along the side of a purling brook under the +shadow of the great trees that skirted the forest, and Edith ambled +leisurely along, low humming to herself some pretty song or listening +to the merry carols of the birds or noticing the speckled fish that +gamboled through the dark, glimmering stream or reverting to the subject +of her last reading. + +But beneath all this childish play of fancy, one grave, sorrowful +thought lay heavy upon Edith's tender heart. It was the thought of poor +old Luckenough "deserted at its utmost need" to the ravages of the foe. +Then came the question if it were not possible, in case of the house +being attacked, to save it--even for her to save it. While these things +were brewing in Edith's mind, she rode slowly and more slowly, until at +length her pony stopped. Then she noticed for the first time the heavy, +downcast looks of her attendants. + +"What is the matter?" she asked. + +"Oh! Miss Edith, don't ask me, honey--don't! Ain't we-dem got to go back +to de house and stay dar by our two selves arter we see you safe?" said +Jenny, crying. + +"No! what? you two alone!" exclaimed Edith, looking from one to the +other. + +"Yes, Miss Edith, 'deed we has, chile--but you needn't look so 'stonish +and 'mazed. You can't help of it, chile. An' if de British do come dar +and burn de house and heave we-dem into de fire jes' out of wanton, +it'll only be two poor, ole, unvaluable niggers burned up. Ole marse +know dat well enough--dat's de reason he resks we." + +"But for what purpose have you to return?" asked Edith, wondering. + +"Oh! to feed de cattle and de poultry? and take care o' de things dat's +lef behine," sobbed Jenny, now completely broken down by her terrors. "I +know--I jis does--how dem white niggers o' Co'bu'ns 'ill set de house o' +fire, an' heave we-dem two poor old innocen's into de flames out'n pure +debblish wanton!" + +Edith passed her slender fingers through her curls, stringing them out +as was her way when absent in thought. She was turning the whole matter +over in her mind. She might possibly save the mansion, though these two +old people were not likely to be able to do so--on the contrary, their +ludicrous terrors would tend to stimulate the wanton cruelty of the +marauders to destroy them with the house. Edith suddenly took her +resolution, and turned her horse's head, directing her attendants to +follow. + +"But where are you going to go, Miss Edith?" asked her groom, Oliver, +now speaking for the first time. + +"Back to Luckenough." + +"What for, Miss Edith, for goodness sake?" + +"Back to Luckenough to guard the dear old house, and take care of you +two." + +"But oh, Miss Edy! Miss Edy! for Marster in heaven's sake what'll come +o' you?" + +"What the Master in heaven wills!" + +"Lord, Lord, Miss Edy! ole marse 'ill kill we-dem. What 'ill old marse +say? What 'ill everybody say to a young gal a-doin' of anything like dat +dar? Oh, dear! dear! what will everybody say?" + +"They will say," said Edith, "if I meet the enemy and save the +house--they will say that Edith Lance is a heroine, and her name will be +probably preserved in the memory of the neighborhood. But if I fail and +lose my life, they will say that Edith was a cracked-brained girl who +deserved her fate, and that they had always predicted she would come to +a bad end." + +"Better go on to Hay Hill, Miss Edy! 'Deed, 'fore marster, better go to +Hay Hill." + +"No," said the young girl, "my resolution is taken--we will return to +Luckenough." + +The arguments of the old negroes waxed fainter and fewer. They felt a +vague but potent confidence in Edith and her abilities, and a sense of +protection in her presence, from which they were loth to part. + +The sun was high when they entered the forest shades again. + +"See," said Edith to her companions, "everything is so fresh and +beautiful and joyous here! I cannot even imagine danger." + +Edith on reaching Luckenough retired to bed, and addressed herself to +sleep. It was in vain--her nerves were fearfully excited. In vain she +tried to combat her terrors--they completely overmastered her. She was +violently shocked out of a fitful doze. + +Old Jenny stood over her, lifting her up, shaking her, and shouting in +her ears: + +"Miss Edith! Miss Edith! They are here! They are here! We shall be +murdered in our beds!" + +In the room stood old Oliver, gray with terror, while all the dogs on +the premises were barking madly, and a noisy party at the front was +trying to force an entrance. + +Violent knocking and shaking at the outer door and the sound of voices. + +"Open! open! let us in! for God's sake, let us in!" + +"Those are fugitives--not foes--listen--they plead--they do not +threaten--go and unbar the door, Oliver," said Edith. + +Reluctantly and cautiously the old man obeyed. + +"Light another candle, Jenny--that is dying in its socket--it will be +out in a minute." + +Trembling all over, Jenny essayed to do as she was bid, but only +succeeded in putting out the expiring light. The sound of the unbarring +of the door had deprived her of the last remnant of self-control. Edith +struck a light, while the sound of footsteps and voices in the hall +warned her that several persons had entered. + +"It's Nell, and Liddy, and Sol, from Hay Hill! Oh, Miss Edy! Thorg and +his men are up dar a 'stroyin' everything! Oh, Miss Edy! an' us thought +it was so safe an' out'n de way up dar! Oh, what a 'scape! what a 'scape +we-dem has had!" + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE ATTACK. + + +That summer day was so holy in its beauty, so bright, so clear, so cool; +that rural scene was so soothing in its influences, so calm, so fresh, +so harmonious; it was almost impossible to associate with that lovely +day and scene thoughts of wrong and violence and cruelty. So felt Edith +as she sometimes lifted her eyes from her work to the beauty and glory +of nature around her. And if now her heart ached it was more with grief +for Fanny's fate than dread of her own. There comes, borne upon the +breeze that lifts her dark tresses, and fans her pearly cheeks, the +music of many rural voices--of rippling streams and rustling leaves and +twittering birds and humming bees. + +But mingled with these, at length, there comes to her attentive ear a +sound, or the suspicion of a sound, of distant horse hoofs falling upon +the forest leaves--it draws nearer--it becomes distinct--she knows it +now--it is--it is a troop of British soldiers approaching the house! + +They rode in a totally undisciplined and disorderly manner; reeling in +their saddles, drunken with debauchery, red-hot, reeking from some scene +of fire and blood! + +And in no condition to be operated upon by Edith's beautiful and holy +influences. + +They galloped into the yard--they galloped up to the house--their leader +threw himself heavily from his horse and advanced to the door. + +It was the terrible and remorseless Thorg! No one could doubt the +identity for a single instant. The low, square-built, thick-set body, +the huge head, the bull neck, heavy jowl, coarse, sensual lips, +bloodshot eyes, and fiery visage surrounded with coarse red hair--the +whole brutalized, demonized aspect could belong to no monster in the +universe but that cross between the fiend and the beast called Thorg! +And now he came, intoxicated, inflamed, burning with fierce passions +from some fell scene of recent violence! + +Pale as death, and nearly as calm, Edith awaited his coming. She could +not hope to influence this man or his associates. She knew her fate +now--it was death!--death by her own hand, before that man's foot should +profane her threshold! She knew her fate, and knowing it, grew calm and +strong. There were no more hopes or fears or doubts or trepidations. +Over the weakness of the flesh the spirit ruled victorious, and Edith +stood revealed to herself richly endowed with that heroism she had so +worshiped in others--in that supreme moment mistress of herself and of +her fate. To die by her own hand! but not rashly--not till a trial +should be made--not till the last moment. And how beautiful in this +last fateful moment she looked! The death pallor had passed from her +countenance--the summer breeze was lifting the light black curls--soft +shadows were playing upon the pearly brow--a strange elevation +irradiated her face, and it "shone as it had been the face of an angel." + +"By George! boys, what a pretty wench! Keep back, you d----d rascals!" +(for the men had dismounted and were pressing behind him) "keep back, I +say, you drunken ----! Let rank have precedence in love as in other +things! Your turn may come afterward! Ho! pretty mistress, has your +larder the material to supply my men with a meal?" + +Edith glanced around for her attendants. Jenny lay upon the hall floor, +fallen forward upon her face, in a deep swoon. Oliver stood out upon the +lawn, his teeth chattering, and his knees knocking together with terror, +yet faintly meditating a desperate onslaught to the rescue with his +wooden rake. + +"No matter! for first of all we must have a taste of those dainty lips; +stand back, bl--t you," he vociferated with a volley of appalling oaths, +that sent the disorderly men, who were again crowding behind him, back +into the rear; "we would be alone, d---- you; do you hear?" + +The drunken soldiers fell back, and he advanced toward Edith, who stood +calm in desperate resolution. She raised her hand to supplicate or wave +him off, he did not care which--her other hand, hanging down by her +side, grasped the pistol, which she concealed in the folds of her dress. + +"Hear me," she said, "one moment, I beseech you!" + +The miscreant paused. + +"Proceed, my beauty! Only don't let the grace before meat be too long." + +"I am a soldier's child," said Edith; her sweet, clear voice slightly +quavering like the strings of a lute over which the wind has passed; "I +am a soldier's child--my father died gallantly on the field of battle. +You are soldiers, and will not hurt a soldier's orphan daughter." + +"Not for the universe, my angel; bl----t 'em! let any of 'em hurt a hair +of your head! I only want to love you a little, my beauty! that's +all!--only want to pet you to your heart's content;" and the brute made +a step toward her. + +"Hear me!" exclaimed Edith, raising her hand. + +"Well, well, go on, my dear, only don't be too long!--for my men want +something to eat and drink, and I have sworn not to break my fast until +I know the flavor of those ripe lips." + +Edith's fingers closed convulsively upon the pistol still held bidden. + +"I am alone and defenseless," she said; "I remained here, voluntarily, +to protect our home, because I had faith in the better feelings of men +when they should be appealed to. I had heard dreadful tales of the +ravages of the enemy through neighboring sections of the country. I did +not fully believe them. I thought them the exaggerations of terror, and +knew how such stories grow in the telling. I could not credit the worst, +believing, as I did, the British nation to be an upright and honorable +enemy--British soldiers to be men--and British officers gentlemen. Sir, +have I trusted in vain? Will you not let me and my servants retire in +peace? All that the cellars and storehouses of Luckenough contain is at +your disposal. You will leave myself and attendants unmolested. I have +not trusted in the honor of British soldiers to my own destruction!" + +"A pretty speech, my dear, and prettily spoken--but not half so +persuasive as the sweet wench that uttered it," said Thorg, springing +toward her. + +Edith suddenly raised the pistol--an expression of deadly determination +upon her face. + +Thorg as suddenly fell back. He was an abominable coward in addition to +his other qualities. + +"Seize that girl! Seize and disarm her! What mean you, rascals? Are you +to be foiled by a girl? Seize and disarm her, I say! Are you men?" + +Yes, they were men, and therefore, drunken and brutal as they were, they +hesitated to close upon one helpless girl. + +"H--l fire and furies! surround! disarm her, I say!" vociferated Thorg. + +Edith stood, her hand still grasping the pistol--her other one raised in +desperate entreaty. + +"Oh! one moment! for heaven's sake, one moment! Still hear me! I would +not have fired upon your captain! Nor would I fire upon one of you, who +close upon me only at your captain's order. There is something within me +that shrinks from taking life! even the life of an enemy--any life but +my own, and that only in such a desperate strait as this. Oh! by the +mercy that is in my own heart, show mercy to me! You are men! You have +mothers, or sisters, or wives at home, whom you hope to meet again, when +war and its insanities are over. Oh! for their sakes, show mercy to the +defenseless girl who stands here in your power! Do not compel her to +shed her own blood! for, sure as you advance one step toward me, I pull +this trigger, and fall dead at your feet." And Edith raised the pistol +and placed the muzzle to her own temple--her finger against the trigger. + +The men stood still--the captain swore. + +"H--l fire and flames! Do you intend to stand there all day, to hear the +wench declaim? Seize her, curse you! Wrench that weapon from her hand." + +"Not so quick as I can pull the trigger!" said Edith--her eyes blazing +with the sense of having fate--the worst of fate in her own hands; it +was but a pressure of the finger, to be made quick as lightning, and she +was beyond their power! Her finger was on the trigger--the muzzle of the +pistol, a cold ring of steel, pressed her burning temple! She felt it +kindly--protective as a friend's kiss! + +"Seize her! Seize her, curse you!" cried the brutal Thorg, "what care I +whether she pull the trigger or not? Before the blood cools in her body, +I will have had my satisfaction! Seize her, you infernal--" + +"Captain, countermand your order! I beg, I entreat you, countermand your +order! You yourself will greatly regret having given it, when you are +calmer," said a young officer, riding hastily forward, and now, for the +first time, taking a part in the scene. + +An honorable youth in a band of licensed military marauders. + +"'Sdeath, sir! Don't interfere with me! Seize her, rascals!" + +"One step more, and I pull the trigger!" said Edith. + +"Captain Thorg! This must not be!" persisted the young officer. + +"D--n, sir! Do you oppose me? Do you dare? Fall back, sir, I command +you! Scoundrels! close upon that wench and bind her!" + +"Captain Thorg! This shall not be! Do you hear? Do you understand? I say +this violence shall not be perpetrated!" said the young officer, firmly. + +"D--n, sir! Are you drunk, or mad? You are under arrest, sir! Corporal +Truman, take Ensign Shields' sword!" + +The young man was quickly disarmed, and once more the captain +vociferated: + +"Knock down and disarm that vixen! Obey your orders, villains! Or by +h--l, and all its fiends, I'll have you all court-martialed, and shot +before to-morrow noon!" + +The soldiers closed around the unprotected girl. + +"Lord, all merciful! forgive my sins," she prayed, and with a firm hand +pulled the trigger! + +It did not respond to her touch--it failed! it failed! + +Casting the traitorous weapon from her, she sunk upon her knees, +murmuring: + +"Lost--lost--all is lost!" remained crushed, overwhelmed, awaiting her +fate! + +"Ha! ha! ha! as pretty a little make-believe as ever I saw!" laughed the +brutal Thorg, now perfectly at his ease, and gloating over her beauty, +and helplessness, and, deadly terror. "As pretty a little sham as ever I +saw!" + +"It was no sham! She couldn't sham! I drawed out the shot unbeknownst to +her! I wish, I does, my fingers had shriveled and dropped off afore they +ever did it!" exclaimed Oliver, in a passion of remorse, as he ran +forward, rake in hand. + +He was quickly thrown down and disarmed--no one had any hesitation in +dealing with him. + +"Now then, my fair!" said Thorg, moving toward his victim. + +Edith was now wild with desperation--her eyes flew wildly around in +search of help, where help there seemed none. Then she turned with the +frenzied impulse of flying. + +But the men surrounded to cut off her retreat. + +"Nay, nay, let her run! Let her run! Give her a fair start, and do you +give chase! It will be the rarest sport! Fox-hunting is a good thing, +but girl-chasing must be the very h--l of sport, when I tell you--mind, +I tell you, men--she shall be the exclusive prize of him who catches +her!" swore the remorseless Thorg. + +Edith had gained the back door. + +They started in pursuit. + +"Now, by the living Lord that made me, the first man that lays hands on +her shall die!" suddenly exclaimed the young ensign, wresting his sword +from the hand of the corporal, springing between Edith and her pursuers, +flashing out the blade, and brandishing it in the faces of the foremost. + +He was but a stripling, scarcely older than Edith's self--the arm that +wielded that slender blade scarcely stronger than Edith's own--but the +fire that flashed from the eagle eye showed a spirit to rescue or die in +her defense. + +Thorg threw himself into the most frantic fury--a volley of the most +horrible oaths was discharged from his lips. + +"Upon that villain, men! Beat him down! Slay him! Pin him to the ground +with your bayonets! And then! do your will with the girl!" + +But before this fiendish order could be executed, ay, before it was half +spoken, whirled into the yard a body or about thirty horsemen, galloping +fiercely to the rescue with drawn swords and shouting voices. + +They were nearly three times the number of the foraging soldiers. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +YOUNG AMERICA IN 1814. + + +Young students of the neighboring academy--mere boys of from thirteen to +eighteen years of age, but brave, spirited, vigorous lads, well mounted, +well armed, and led on by the redoubtable college hero, Cloudesley +Mornington. They rushed forward, they surrounded, they fell upon the +marauders with an absolute shower of blows. + +"Give it to them, men! This for Fanny! This for Edith! And this! and +this! and this for both of them!" shouted Cloudesley, as he vigorously +laid about him. "Strike for Hay Hill and vengeance! Let them have it, my +men! And you, little fellows! Small young gentlemen, with the souls of +heroes, and the bodies of elves, who can't strike a very hard blow, aim +where your blows will tell! Aim at their faces. This for Fanny! This for +Edith!" shouted Cloudesley, raining his strokes right and left, but +never at random. + +He fought his way through to the miscreant Thorg. + +Thorg was still on foot, armed with a sword, and laying about him +savagely among the crowd of foes that had surrounded him. + +Cloudesley was still on horseback--he had caught up an ax that lay +carelessly upon the lawn, and now he rushed upon Thorg from behind. + +He had no scruple in taking this advantage of the enemy--no scruple +with an unscrupulous monster--an outlawed wretch--a wild beast to be +destroyed, when and where and how it was possible! + +And so Cloudesley came on behind, and elevating this formidable weapon +in both hands, raising himself in his stirrups and throwing his whole +weight with the stroke, he dealt a blow upon the head of Thorg that +brought him to the earth stunned. From the impetus Cloudesley himself +had received, he had nearly lost his saddle, but had recovered. + +"They fly! They fly! By the bones of Caesar, the miscreants fly! After +them, my men! After them! Pursue! pursue!" shouted Cloudesley, wheeling +his horse around to follow. + +But just then, the young British officer standing near Edith, resting +on his sword, breathing, as it were, after a severe conflict, caught +Cloudesley's eyes. Intoxicated with victory, Cloudesley sprang from his +horse, and raising his ax, rushed up the stairs upon the youth! + +Edith sprang and threw herself before the stripling, impulsively +clasping her arms around him to shield him, and then throwing up one arm +to ward off a blow, looked up and exclaimed: + +"He is my preserver--my preserver, Cloudesley!" + +And what did the young ensign do? Clasped Edith quietly but closely to +his breast. + +It was a beautiful, beautiful picture! + +Nay, any one might understand how it was--that not years upon years of +ordinary acquaintance could have so drawn, so knitted these young hearts +together as those few hours of supreme danger. + +"My preserver, Cloudesley! My preserver!" + +Cloudesley grounded his ax. + +"I don't understand that, Edith! He is a British officer." + +"He is my deliverer! When Thorg set his men on me to hunt me, he cast +himself before me, and kept them at bay until you came!" + +"Mutinied!" exclaimed Cloudesley, in astonishment, and a sort of horror. + +"Yes, I suppose it was mutiny," said the young ensign, speaking for the +first time and blushing as he withdrew his arm from Edith's waist. + +"Whe-ew! here's a go!" Cloudesley was about to exclaim, but remembering +himself he amended his phraseology, and said, "A very embarrassing +situation, yours, sir." + +"I cannot regret it!" + +"Certainly not! There are laws of God and humanity above all military +law, and such you obeyed, sir! I thank you on the part of my young +countrywoman," said Cloudesley, who imagined that he could talk about as +well as he could fight. + +"If the occasion could recur, I would do it again! Yes, a thousand +times!" the young man's eyes added to Edith--only to her. + +"But oh! perdition! while I am talking here that serpent! that +copperhead! that cobra capella! is coming round again! How astonishingly +tenacious of life all foul, venomous creatures are!" exclaimed +Cloudesley, as he happened to espy Throg moving slightly where he lay, +and rushed out to dispatch him. + +The other two young people were left alone in the hall. + +"I am afraid you have placed yourself in a very, very dangerous +situation, by what you did to save me." + +"But do you know--oh, do you know how happy it has made me? Can you +divine how my heart--yes, my soul--burns with the joy it has given me? +When I saw you standing there before your enemies so beautiful! so calm! +so constant--I felt that I could die for you--that I would die for you. +And when I sprang between you and your pursuers, I had resolved to die +for you. But first to set your soul free. Edith, you should not have +fallen into the hands of the soldiers! Yes! I had determined to die for +and with you! You are safe. And whatever befalls me, Edith, will you +remember that?" + +"You are faint! You are wounded! Indeed you are wounded! Oh, where! Oh! +did any of our people strike you?" + +"No--it was one of our men, Edith! I do not know your other name, sweet +lady!" + +"Never mind my name--it is Edith--that will do; but your wound--your +wound--oh! you are very pale--here! lie down upon this settee. Oh, it is +too hard!--come into my room, it opens here upon the hall--there is a +comfortable lounge there--come in and lie down--let me get you +something?" + +"Thanks--thanks, dearest lady, but I must get upon my horse and go!" + +"Go?" + +"Yes, Edith--don't you understand, that after what I have done--after +what I have had the joy of doing--the only honorable course left open +to me, is to go and give myself up to answer the charges that may be +brought against me?" + +"Oh, heaven! I know! I know what you have incurred by defending me! I +know the awful penalty laid upon a military officer who lifts his hand +against his superior. Don't go! oh, don't go!" + +"And do you really take so much interest in my fate, sweetest lady?" +said the youth, gazing at her with the deepest and most delightful +emotions. + +"'Take an interest' in my generous protector! How should I help it? Oh! +don't go! Don't think of going. You will not--will you? Say that you +will not!" + +"You will not advise me to anything dishonorable, I am sure." + +"No--no--but oh! at such a fearful cost you have saved me. Oh! when I +think of it, I wish you had not interfered to defend me. I wish it had +not been done!" + +"And I would not for the whole world that it had not been done! Do not +fear for me, sweetest Edith! I run little risk in voluntarily placing +myself in the hands of a court-martial--for British officers are +gentlemen, Edith!--you must not judge them by those you have seen--and +when they hear all the circumstances, I have little doubt that my act +will be justified--besides, my fate will rest with Ross, General +Ross--one of the most gallant and noble spirits ever created, Edith! +And now you must let me go, fairest lady." And he raised her hand +respectfully to his lips, bowed reverently, and left the hall to find +his horse. + +Just then Cloudesley was seen approaching, crying out that they had +escaped. + +"You are not going to leave us, sir?" he asked Cloudesley, catching +sight of the ensign. + +"I am under the necessity of doing so." + +"But you are not able to travel--you can scarcely sit your horse. Pray +do not think of leaving us." + +"You are a soldier--at least an amateur one, and you will understand +that after what has occurred, I must not seem to hide myself like a +fugitive from justice! In short, I must go and answer for that which I +have done." + +"I understand, but really, sir, you look very ill--you--" + +But here the young officer held out his hand smilingly, took leave of +Cloudesley, and bowing low to Edith, rode off. + +Cloudesley and Edith followed the gallant fellow with their eyes. He had +nearly reached the gate, the old green gate at the farthest end of the +semi-circular avenue, when the horse stopped, the rider reeled and fell +from his saddle. Cloudesley and Edith ran toward him--reached him. +Cloudesley disentangled his foot from the stirrup, and raised him in his +arms. Edith stood pale and breathless by. + +"He has fainted! I knew he was suffering extreme pain. Edith! fly and +get some water! Or rather here! sit down and hold up his head while I +go." + +Edith was quickly down by the side of her preserver, supporting his +head upon her breast. Cloudesley sped toward the house for water and +assistance. When he procured what he wanted and returned, he met the +troop of collegians on their return from the chase of the retreating +marauders. They reported that they had scattered the fugitives in every +direction and lost them in the labyrinths of the forest. + +Several of them dismounted and gathered around the young ensign. + +But Cloudesley was now upon the spot, and while he bathed the face of +the fainting man, explained to them how it was, and requested some one +to ride immediately to the village and procure a physician. Thurston +Willcoxen, the next in command under him, and his chosen +brother-in-arms, mounted his horse and galloped off. + +In the meantime the wounded man was carried to the mansion house and +laid upon a cot in one of the parlors. + +Presently Edith heard wheels roll up to the door and stop. She looked +up. It was the carriage of the surgeon, whom she saw alight and walk up +the steps. She went to meet him, composedly as she could, and conducted +him to the door of the sick-room, which he entered. Edith remained in +the hall, softly walking up and down, and sometimes pausing to listen. + +After a little, the door opened. It was only Solomon Weismann, who asked +for warm water, lint, and a quantity of old linen. These Edith quickly +supplied, and then remained alone in the hall, walking up and down, and +pausing to listen as before; once she heard a deep shuddering groan, as +of one in mortal extremity, and her own heart and frame thrilled to the +sound, and then all was still as before. + +An hour, two hours, passed, and then the door opened again, and Edith +caught a glimpse of the surgeon, with his shirt sleeves pushed above his +elbows, and a pair of bloody hands. It was Solomon who opened the door +to ask for a basin of water, towels and soap, for the doctor to wash. +Edith furnished these also. + +Half an hour passed, and the door opened a third time, and the doctor +himself came out, fresh and smiling. His countenance and his manner were +in every respect encouraging. + +"Come into the drawing-room a moment, if you please, Miss Edith, I want +to speak with you." + +Edith desired nothing more earnestly just at that moment. + +"Well, doctor--your patient?" she inquired, anxiously. + +"Will do very well! Will do very well! That is, if he be properly +attended to, and that is what I wished to speak to you about, Miss +Edith. I have seen you near sick-beds before this, my dear, and know +that I can better trust you than any one to whom I could at present +apply. I intend to install you as his nurse, my dear. When a life +depends upon your care, you will waive any scruples you might otherwise +feel, Miss Edith, I am sure! You will have your old maid, Jenny, to +assist you, and Solomon at hand, in case of an emergency. But I intend +to delegate my authority, and leave my directions with you." + +"Yes, doctor, I will do my very best for your patient." + +"I am sure of that. I am sure of that." + +Edith watched by his cot through all the night, fanning him softly, +keeping his chest covered from the air, giving him his medicine at the +proper intervals, and putting drink to his lips when he needed it. But +never trusted her eyelids to close for a moment. Jenny shared her vigil +by nodding in an easy chair; and Solomon Weismann, a young medical +student, by sleeping soundly on the wooden settee in the hall. So passed +the night. After midnight, to Edith's great relief, his fever began to +abate, and he sank into a sweet sleep. In the morning Solomon roused +himself, and came in and relieved Edith's watch, and attended to the +wants of the patient, while she went to her room to bathe her face and +weary eyes. + +But instead of growing better the patient grew worse, and for days life +was despaired of. The most skillful medical treatment, and the most +careful nursing scarcely saved his life. And even after the imminent +danger was over, it was weeks before he was able to be lifted from the +bed to the sofa. + +In the meantime, Throg, who was also treated by the doctor, recovered. +He took quite an affectionate leave of the young ensign, and with an +appearance of great friendliness and honesty, promised to interest +himself at headquarters in behalf of the young officer. This somehow +filled Edith with a vague distrust, and dark foreboding, for which she +could neither account, nor excuse herself, nor yet shake off. Thorg had +been exchanged, and he joined his regiment after its return from +Washington City, and before it sailed from the shores of America. + +Weeks passed, during which the invalid occupied the sofa in his +room--and Edith was his sole nurse. And then Commodore Waugh, with his +wife, servants and caravan returned to Luckenough. + +The old soldier had been "posted up," he said, relative to all that had +transpired in his absence. + +There were no words, he declared, to express his admiration of Edith's +"heroism." + +It was in vain that Edith assured him that she had not been heroic at +all--that the preservation of Luckenough had been due rather to the +timely succor of the college boys than to her own imprudent resolution. +It did no good--the old man was determined to look upon his niece as a +heroine worthy to stand by the side of Joan of Arc. + +"For," said he, "was it not the soul of a heroine that enabled her to +stay and guard the house; and would the college company ever have come +to the rescue of these old walls if they had not heard that she had +resolutely remained to guard them and was almost alone in the house? +Don't tell me! Edith is the star maiden of old St. Mary's, and I'm proud +of her! She is worthy to be my niece and heiress! A true descendant of +Marie Zelenski, is she! And I'll tell you what I'll do, Edith!" he said, +turning to her, "I'll reward you, my dear! I will. I'll marry you to +Professor Grimshaw! That's what I'll do, my dear! And you both shall +have Luckenough; that you shall!" + +Months passed--the war was over--peace was proclaimed, and still the +young ensign, an invalid, unable to travel, lingered at Luckenough. +Regularly he received his pay; twice he received an extension of leave +of absence; and all through the instrumentality of--Thorg. Yet all this +filled Edith with the greatest uneasiness and foreboding--ungrateful, +incomprehensible, yet impossible to be delivered from. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +EDITH'S TROUBLES. + + +Late in the spring Ensign Michael Shields received orders to join his +regiment in Canada, and upon their reception he had an explanation with +Edith, and with her permission, had requested her hand of her uncle, +Commodore Waugh. This threw the veteran into a towering passion, and +nearly drove him from his proprieties as host. The young ensign was +unacceptable to him upon every account. First and foremost, he wasn't +"Grim," Then he was an Israelite. And, lastly! horror of horrors! he was +a British officer, and dared to aspire to the hand of Edith. It was in +vain that his wife, the good Henrietta, tried to mollify him; the storm +raged for several days--raged, till it had expended all its strength, +and subsided from exhaustion. Then he called Edith and tried to talk the +matter over calmly with her. + +"Now all I have to say to you, Edith, is this," he concluded, "that if +you will have the good sense to marry Mr. Grimshaw, these intentions +shall be more than fulfilled--they shall be anticipated. Upon your +marriage with Grimshaw, I will give you a conveyance of Luckenough--only +reserving to myself and Old Hen a house, and a life-support in the +place; but if you will persist in your foolish preference for that +young scamp, I will give you--nothing. That is all, Edith." + +During the speech Edith remained standing, with her eyes fixed upon the +floor. Now, she spoke in a tremulous voice: + +"That is all--is it not, uncle? You will not deprive me of any portion +of your love; will you, uncle?" + +"I do not know, Edith! I cannot tell; when you have deliberately chosen +one of your own fancy, in preference to one of mine--the man I care most +for in the world, and whom I chose especially for you; why, you've +speared me right through a very tender part; however, as I said before, +what you do, do quickly! I cannot bear to be kept upon the tenter +hooks!" + +"I will talk with Michael, uncle," said Edith, meekly. + +She went out, and found him pacing the lawn at the back of the house. + +He turned toward her with a glad smile, took her hand as she approached +him, and pressed it to his lips. + +"Dearest Edith, where have you been so long?" + +"With my uncle, Michael. I have my uncle's 'ultimatum,' as he calls it." + +"What is it, Edith?" + +"Ah! how shall I tell you without offense? But, dearest Michael you will +not mind--you will forgive an old man's childish prejudices, especially +when you know they are not personal--but circumstantial, national, +bigoted." + +"Well, Edith! well?" + +"Michael, he says--he says that I may give you my hand--" + +"Said he so! Bless that fair hand, and bless him who bestows it!" he +exclaimed, clasping her fingers and pressing them to his lips. + +"Yes, Michael, but--" + +"But what! there is no but; he permits you to give me your hand; there +is then no but--'a jailer to bring forth some monstrous malefactor.'" + +"Yet listen! You know I was to have been his heiress!" + +"No, indeed I did not know it! never heard it! never suspected it! never +even thought of it! How did I know but that he had sons and daughters, +or nephews away at school!" + +"Well, I was to have been his heiress. Now he disinherits me, unless I +consent to be married to his friend and favorite, Dr. Grimshaw." + +"You put the case gently and delicately, dear Edith, but the hard truth +is this--is it not--that he will disinherit you, if you consent to be +mine? You need not answer me, dearest Edith, if you do not wish to; but +listen--I have nothing but my sword, and beyond my boundless love +nothing to offer you but the wayward fate of a soldier's wife. Your eyes +are full of tears. Speak, Edith Lance! Can you share the soldier's +wandering life? Speak, Edith, or lay your hand in mine. Yet, no! no! no! +I am selfish and unjust. Take time, love, to think of all you abandon, +all that you may encounter in joining your fate to mine. God knows what +it has cost me to say it--but--take time, Edith," and he pressed and +dropped her hand. + +"I do not need to do so. My answer to-day, to-morrow, and forever, must +be the same," she answered, in a very low voice; and her eyes sought the +ground, and the blush deepened on her cheek, as she laid her hand in +his. How he pressed that white hand, to his lips, to his heart! How he +clasped her to his breast! How he vowed to love and cherish her as the +dearest treasure of his life need not here be told. + +Edith said: + +"Now take me in to uncle, and tell him, for he asked me not to keep him +in suspense." + +Michael led her into the hall, where the commodore strode up +and down, making the old rafters tremble and quake with every +tread--puffing--blowing over his fallen hopes, like a nor'-wester +over the dead leaves. + +Michael advanced, holding the hand of his affianced, and modestly +announced their engagement. + +"Humph! So the precious business is concluded, is it?" + +"Yes, sir," said Michael, with a bow. + +"Well, I hope you may be as happy as you deserve! When is the proceeding +to come off?" + +"What, sir?" + +"The marriage, young gentleman?" + +"When shall I say, dearest Edith?" asked Michael, stooping to her ear. + +"When uncle pleases," murmured the girl. + +"Uncle pleases nothing, and will have nothing to do with it, except to +advise as early a day as possible," he blurted out; "what says the +bride?" + +"Answer, dearest Edith," entreated Michael Shields. + +"Then let it be at New Year," said Edith, falteringly. + +"Whew!--six months ahead! Entirely too far off!" exclaimed the +commodore. + +"And so it really is, beloved," whispered Michael. + +"Let it be next week," abruptly broke in the commodore. "What's the use +of putting it off? Tuesdays and Thursdays are the marrying days, I +believe; let it then be Tuesday or Thursday." + +"Tuesday," pleaded Michael. + +"Thursday," murmured Edith. + +"The deuce!--if you can't decide, I must decide for you," growled Old +Nick, storming down toward the extremity of the hall, and roaring--"Old +Hen! Old Hen! These fools are to be spliced on Sunday! Now bring me my +pipe;" and the commodore withdrew to his sanctum. + +Good Henrietta came in, took the hand of the young ensign, and pressed +it warmly, saying that he would have a good wife, and wishing them both +much happiness in their union. She drew Edith to her bosom, and kissed +her fondly, but in silence. + +As this was Friday evening, little preparations could be made for the +solemnity to take place on Sunday. Yet Mrs. Henrietta exerted herself to +do all possible honor to the occasion. That very evening she sent out a +few invitations to the dinner and ball, that in those days invariably +celebrated a country wedding. She even invited a few particular friends +to meet the bridal pair at dinner, on their return from church. + +The little interval between this and Sunday morning was passed by Edith +and Shields in making arrangements for their future course. + +Sunday came. + +A young lady of the neighborhood officiated as bridesmaid, and +Cloudesley Mornington as groomsman. The ceremony was to be performed at +the Episcopal Church at Charlotte Hall. The bridal party set forward in +two carriages. They were attended by the commodore and Mrs. Waugh. They +reached the church at an early hour, and the marriage was solemnized +before the morning service. When the entries had been made, and the +usual congratulations passed, the party returned to the carriages. +Before entering his own, Commodore Waugh approached that in which the +bride and bridegroom were already seated, and into which the groomsman +was about to hand the bridesmaid. + +"Stay, you two, you need not enter just yet," said the old man, "I want +to speak with Mr. Shields and his wife, Edith!" + +Edith put her head forward, eagerly. + +"I have nothing against you; but after what has occurred, I don't want +to see you at Luckenough again. Good-by!" Then, turning to Shields, he +said, "I will have your own and your wife's goods forwarded to the +hotel, here," and nodding gruffly, he strode away. + +Cloudesley stormed, Edith begged that the carriage might be delayed yet +a little while. Vain Edith's hope, and vain Mrs. Waugh's expostulations, +Old Nick was not to be mollified. He said that "those who pleased to +remain with the new-married couple, might do so--he should go home! They +did as they liked, and he should do as he liked." Mrs. Waugh, +Cloudesley, and the bridesmaid determined to stay. + +The commodore entered his carriage, and was driven toward home. + +The party then adjourned to the hotel. Mrs. Waugh comforting Edith, +and declaring her intention to stay with her as long as she should +remain in the neighborhood--for Henrietta always did as she pleased, +notwithstanding the opposition of her stormy husband. The young +bridesmaid and Cloudesley also expressed their determination to stand +by their friends to the last. + +Their patience was not put to a very long test. In a few days a packet +was to sail from Benedict to Baltimore, and the young couple took +advantage of the opportunity, and departed, with the good wishes of +their few devoted friends. + +Their destination was Toronto, in Canada, where the young ensign's +regiment was quartered. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +SANS SOUCI. + + +Several miles from the manor of Luckenough, upon a hill not far from the +seacoast, stood the cottage of the Old Fields. + +The property was an appendage to the Manor of Luckenoug--, and was at +this time occupied by a poor relation of Commodore Waugh, his niece, +Mary L'Oiseau, the widow of a Frenchman. Mrs. L'Oiseau had but one +child, a little girl, Jacquelina, now about eight or nine years of age. + +Commodore Waugh had given them the cottage to live in, permission to +make a living, if they could, out of the poor land attached to it. This +was all the help he had afforded his poor niece, and all, as she said, +that she could reasonably expect from one who had so many dependents. +For several years past the little property had afforded her a bare +subsistence. + +And now this year the long drought had parched up her garden and +corn-field, and her cows had failed in their yield of milk for the want +of grass. + +It was upon a dry and burning day, near the last of August, that Mary +L'Oiseau and her daughter sat down to their frugal breakfast. And such a +frugal breakfast! The cheapest tea, with brown sugar, and a corn cake +baked upon the griddle, and a little butter--that was all! It was spread +upon a plain pine table without a tablecloth. + +The furniture of the room was in keeping--a sanded floor, a chest of +drawers, with a small looking-glass, ornamented by a sprig of asparagus, +a dresser of rough pine shelves on the right of the fireplace, and a +cupboard on the left, a half-dozen chip-bottomed chairs, a +spinning-wheel, and a reel and jack, completed the appointments. + +Mrs. L'Oiseau was devouring the contents of a letter, which ran thus: + +"MARY, MY DEAR! I feel as if I had somewhat neglected you, but, the truth +is, my arm is not long enough to stretch from Luckenough to Old Fields. +That being the case, and myself and Old Hen being rather lonesome since +Edith's ungrateful desertion, we beg you to take little Jacko, and come +live with us as long as we may live--and of what may come after that we +will talk at some time. If you will be ready I will send the carriage for +you on Saturday. + +"YOUR UNCLE NICK." + +Mrs. L'Oiseau read this letter with a changing cheek--when she finished +it she folded and laid it aside in silence. + +Then she called to her side her child--her Jacquelina--her Sans +Souci--as for her gay, thoughtless temper she was called. I should here +describe the mother and daughter to you. The mother needs little +description--a pale, black-haired, black-eyed woman, who should have +been blooming and sprightly, but that care had damped her spirits, and +cankered the roses in her cheeks. + +But Jacquelina--Sans Souci--merits a better portrait. She was small +and slight for her years, and, though really near nine, would have +been taken for six or seven. She was fair-skinned, blue-eyed and +golden-haired. And her countenance, full of spirit, courage and +audacity. As she would dart her face upward toward the sun, her round, +smooth, highly polished white forehead would seem to laugh in light +between its clustering curls of burnished gold, that, together with the +little, slightly turned-up nose, and short, slightly protruded upper +lip, gave the charm of inexpressible archness to the most mischievous +countenance alive. In fact her whole form, features, expression and +gestures seemed instinct with mischief--mischief lurked in the kinked +tendrils of her bright hair; mischief looked out and laughed in the +merry, malicious blue eyes; mischief crept slyly over the bows of her +curbed and ruby lips, and mischief played at hide and seek among the +rosy dimples of her blooming cheeks. + +"Now, Jacquelina," said Mrs. L'Oiseau, "you must cure yourself of these +hoydenish tricks of yours before you expose them to your uncle--remember +how whimsical and eccentric he is." + +"So am I! Just as whimsical! I'll do him dirt," said the young lady. + +"Good heaven! Where did you ever pick up such a phrase, and what upon +earth does doing any one 'dirt' mean?" asked the very much shocked lady. + +"I mean I'll grind his nose on the ground, I'll hurry him and worry him, +and upset him, and cross him, and make him run his head against the +wall, and butt his blundering brains out. What did he turn Fair Edith +away for? Oh! I'll pay him off! I'll settle with him! Fair Edith shan't +be in his debt for her injuries very long." + +From her pearly brow and pearly cheeks, "Fair Edith" was the name by +which the child had heard her cousin once called, and she had called her +thus ever since. + +Mrs. L'Oiseau answered gravely. + +"Your uncle gave Edith a fair choice between his own love and +protection, and the great benefits he had in store for her, and the +love of a stranger and foreigner, whom he disapproved and hated. Edith +deliberately chose the latter. And your uncle had a perfect right to act +upon her unwise decision." + +"And for my part, I know he hadn't--all of my own thoughts. Oh! I'll do +him--" + +"Hush! Jacquelina. You shall not use such expressions. So much comes of +my letting you have your own way, running down to the beach and watching +the boats, and hearing the vulgar talk of the fishermen." + +On Saturday, at the hour specified, the carriage came to Old Field +Cottage, and conveyed Mrs. L'Oiseau and her child to Luckenough. They +were very kindly received by the commodore, and affectionately embraced +by Henrietta, who conducted them to a pleasant room, where they could +lay off their bonnets, and which they were thenceforth to consider as +their own apartment. This was not the one which had been occupied by +Edith. Edith's chamber had been left undisturbed and locked up by Mrs. +Waugh, and was kept ever after sacred to her memory. + +The sojourn of Mrs. L'Oiseau and Jacquelina at Luckenough was an +experiment on the part of the commodore. He did not mean to commit +himself hastily, as in the case of his sudden choice of Edith as his +heiress. He intended to take a good, long time for what he called +"mature deliberation"--often one of the greatest enemies to upright, +generous, and disinterested action--to hope, faith, and charity, that I +know of, by the way. Commodore Waugh also determined to have his own +will in all things, this time at least. He had the vantage ground now, +and was resolved to keep it. He had caught Sans Souci young, before she +could possibly have formed even a childish predilection for one of the +opposite sex, and he was determined to raise and educate a wife for his +beloved Grim. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE BLIGHTED HEART. + + +In February the deepest snow storm fell that had fallen during the whole +winter. The roads were considered quite impassable by carriages, and the +family at Luckenough were blocked up in their old house. Yet one day, in +the midst of this "tremendous state of affairs," as the commodore called +it, a messenger from Benedict arrived at Luckenough, the bearer of a +letter to Mrs. Waugh, which he refused to intrust to any other hands but +that lady's own. He was, therefore, shown into the presence of the +mistress, to whom he presented the note. Mrs. Waugh took it and looked +at it with some curiosity--it was superscribed in a slight feminine +hand--quite new to Henrietta; and she opened it, and turned immediately +to the signature--Marian Mayfield--a strange name to her; she had never +seen or heard it before. She lost no more time in perusing the letter, +but as she read, her cheek flushed and paled--her agitation became +excessive, she was obliged to ring for a glass of water, and as soon as +she had swallowed it she crushed and thrust the letter into her bosom, +ordered her mule to be saddled instantly, and her riding pelisse and +hood to be brought. In two hours and a half Henrietta reached the +village, and alighted at the little hotel. Of the landlord, who came +forth respectfully to meet her, she demanded to be shown immediately to +the presence of the young lady who had recently arrived from abroad. The +host bowed, and inviting the lady to follow him, led the way to the +little private parlor, the door of which he opened to let the visitor +pass in, and then bowing again, he closed it and retired. + +And Mrs. Waugh found herself in a small, half-darkened room, where, +reclining in an easy chair, sat--Edith? Was it Edith? Could it be Edith? +That fair phantom of a girl to whom the black ringlets and black dress +alone seemed to give outline and personality? Yes, it was Edith! But, +oh! so changed! so wan and transparent, with such blue shadows in the +hollows of her eyes and temples and cheeks--with such heavy, heavy +eyelids, seemingly dragged down by the weight of their long, sleeping +lashes--with such anguish in the gaze of the melting, dark eyes! + +"Edith, my love! My dearest Edith!" said Mrs. Waugh, going to her. + +She half arose, and sank speechless into the kind arms opened to receive +her. Mrs. Waugh held her to her bosom a moment in silence, and then +said: + +"Edith, my dear, I got a note from your friend, Miss Mayfield, saying +that you had returned, and wished to see me. But how is this, my child? +You have evidently been very ill--you are still. Where is your husband, +Edith? Edith, where is your husband?" + +A shiver that shook her whole frame--a choking, gasping sob, was all the +answer she could make. + +"Where is he, Edith? Ordered away somewhere, upon some distant service? +That is hard, but never mind! Hope for the best! You will meet him +again, dear? But where is he, then?" + +She lifted up her poor head, and uttering--"Dead! dead!" dropped it +heavily again upon the kind, supporting bosom. + +"You do not mean it! My dear, you do not mean it! You do not know what +you are saying! Dead! when? how?" asked Mrs. Waugh, in great trouble. + +"Shot! shot!" whispered the poor thing, in a tone so hollow, it seemed +reverberating through a vault. And then her stricken head sank heavily +down--and Henrietta perceived that strength and consciousness had +utterly departed. She placed her in the easy chair, and turned around to +look for restoratives, when a door leading into an adjoining bedroom +opened, and a young girl entered, and came quietly and quickly forward +to the side of the sufferer. She greeted Mrs. Waugh politely, and then +gave her undivided attention to Edith, whose care she seemed fully +competent to undertake. + +This young girl was not over fourteen years of age, yet the most +beautiful and blooming creature, Mrs. Waugh thought, that she had ever +beheld. + +Her presence in the room seemed at once to dispel the gloom and shadow. + +She took Edith's hand, and settled her more at ease in the chair--but +refused the cologne and the salammoniac that Mrs. Waugh produced, +saying, cheerfully: + +"She has not fainted, you perceive--she breathes--it is better to leave +her to nature for a while--too much attention worries her--she is very +weak." + +Marian had now settled her comfortably back in the resting chair, and +stood by her side, not near enough to incommode her in the least. + +"I do not understand all this. She says that her husband is dead, poor +child--how came it about? Tell me!" said Mrs. Waugh, in a low voice. + +Marian's clear blue eyes filled with tears, but she dropped their white +lids and long black lashes over them, and would not let them fall; and +her ripe lips quivered, but she firmly compressed them, and remained +silent for a moment. Then she said, in a whisper: + +"I will tell you by and by," and she glanced at Edith, to intimate that +the story must not be rehearsed in her presence, however insensible she +might appear to be. + +"You are the young lady who wrote to me?" + +"Yes, madam." + +"You are a friend of my poor girl's?" + +"Something more than that, madam--I will tell you by and by," said +Marian, and her kind, dear eyes were again turned upon Edith, and +observing the latter slightly move, she said, in her pleasant voice: + +"Edith, dear, shall I put you to bed--are you able to walk?" + +"Yes, yes," murmured the sufferer, turning her head uneasily from side +to side. + +Marian gave her hand, and assisted the poor girl to rise, and tenderly +supported her as she walked to the bedroom. + +Mrs. Waugh arose to give her assistance, but Marian shook her head at +her, with a kindly look, that seemed to say, "Do not startle her--she is +used only to me lately," and bore her out of sight into the bedroom. + +Presently she reappeared in the little parlor, opened the blinds, drew +back the curtains, and let the sunlight into the dark room. Then she +ordered more wood to the fire, and when it was replenished, and the +servant had left the room, she invited Mrs. Waugh to draw her chair to +the hearth, and then said: + +"I am ready now, madam, to tell you anything you wish to know--indeed I +had supposed that you were acquainted with everything relating to +Edith's marriage, and its fatal results." + +"I know absolutely nothing but what I have learned to-day. We never +received a single letter, or message, or news of any kind, or in any +shape, from Edith or her husband, from the day they left until now." + +"Yon did not hear, then, that he was court-martialed, and--sentenced to +death!" + +"No, no--good heaven, no!" + +"He was tried for mutiny or rebellion--I know not which--but it was for +raising arms against his superior officers while here in America--the +occasion was--but you know the occasion better than I do." + +"Yes, yes, it was when he rescued Edith from the violence of Thorg and +his men. But oh! heaven, how horrible! that he should have been +condemned to death for a noble act! It is incredible--impossible--how +could it have happened? He never expected such a fate--none of us did, +or we would never have consented to his return. There seemed no prospect +of such a thing. How could it have been?" + +"There was treachery, and perhaps perjury, too. He had an insidious and +unscrupulous enemy, who assumed the guise of repentance, and candor, and +friendship, the better to lure him into his toils--it was the infamous +Colonel Thorg, who received the command of the regiment, in reward for +his great services in America. And Michael's only powerful friend, who +could and would have saved him--was dead. General Ross, you are aware, +was killed in the battle of Baltimore." + +"God have mercy on poor Edith! How long has it been since, this +happened, my dear girl?" + +"When they reached Toronto, in Canada West, the regiment commanded by +Thorg was about to sail for England. On its arrival at York, in England, +a court-martial was formed, and Michael was brought to trial. There was +a great deal of personal prejudice, distortion of facts, and even +perjury--in short, he was condemned and sentenced one day and led out +and shot the next!" + +There was silence between them then. Henrietta sat in pale and +speechless horror. + +"But how long is it since my poor Edith has been so awfully widowed?" at +length inquired Mrs. Waugh. + +"Nearly four months," replied Marian, in a tremulous voice. "For six +weeks succeeding his death, she was not able to rise from her bed. I +came from school to nurse her. I found her completely prostrated under +the blow. I wonder she had not died. What power of living on some +delicate frames seem to have. As soon as she was able to sit up, I began +to think that it would be better to remove her from the strange country, +the theatre of her dreadful sufferings, and to bring her to her own +native land, among her own friends and relatives, where she might resume +the life and habits of her girlhood, and where, with nothing to remind +her of her loss, she might gradually come to look upon the few wretched +months of her marriage, passed in England, as a dark dream. Therefore I +have brought her back." + +"And you, my dear child," she said, "you were Michael Shields' sister?" + +"No, madam, no kin to him--and yet more than kin--for he loved me, and I +loved him more than any one else in the world, as I now love his poor +young widow. This was the way of it, Mrs. Waugh: Michael's father and my +mother had both been married before, and we were children of the first +marriages; when Michael was fourteen years old, and I was seven, our +parents were united, and we grew up together. About two years ago, +Michael's father died. My mother survived him only five months, and +departed, leaving me in charge of her stepson. We had no friends but +each other. Our parents, since their union, had been isolated beings, +for this reason--his father was a Jew--my mother a Christian--therefore +the friends and relatives on either side were everlastingly offended by +their marriage. Therefore we had no one but each other. The little +property that was left was sold, and the proceeds enabled Michael to +purchase a commission in the regiment about to sail for America, and +also to place me at a good boarding school, where I remained until his +return, and the catastrophe that followed it. + +"Lady, all passed so suddenly, that I knew no word of his return, much +less of his trial or execution, until I received a visit from the +chaplain who had attended his last moments, and who brought me his +farewell letter, and his last informal will, in which the poor fellow +consigned me to the care of his wife, soon to be a widow, and enjoined +me to leave school and seek her at once, and inclosed a check for the +little balance he had in bank. I went immediately, found her insensible +through grief, as I said--and, lady, I told you the rest." + +Henrietta was weeping softly behind the handkerchief she held at her +eyes. At last she repeated: + +"You say he left you in his widow's charge?" + +"Yes, madam." + +"Left his widow in yours, rather, you good and faithful sister." + +"It was the same thing, lady; we were to live together, and to support +each other." + +"But what was your thought, my dear girl, in bringing her here?" + +"I told you, lady, that in her own native land, among her own kinsfolk, +she might be comforted, and might resume her girlhood's thoughts and +habits, and learn to forget the strange, dark passages of her short +married life, passed in a foreign country." + +"But, my dear girl, did you not know, had you never heard that her uncle +disowned her for marrying against his will?" + +"Something of that I certainly heard from Edith, lady, when I first +proposed to her to come home. But she was very weak, and her thoughts +very rambling, poor thing--she could not stick to a point long, and I +overruled and guided her--I could not believe but that her friends would +take her poor widowed heart to their homes again. But if it should be +otherwise, still--" + +"Well?--still?" + +"Why, I cannot regret having brought her to her native soil--for, if we +find no friends in America, we have left none in England--a place +besides full of the most harrowing recollections, from which this place +is happily free. America also offers a wider field for labor than +England does, and if her friends behave badly, why I will work for her, +and--for her child if it should live." + +"Dear Marian, you must not think by what I said just now, that I am not +a friend of Edith. I am, indeed. I love her almost as if she were my own +daughter. I incurred my husband's anger by remaining with her after her +marriage until she sailed. I will not fail her now, be sure. Personally, +I will do my utmost for her. I will also try to influence her uncle in +her favor. And now, my dear, it is getting very late, and there is a +long ride, and a dreadful road before me. The commodore is already +anxious for me, I know, and if I keep him waiting much longer, he will +be in no mood to be persuaded by me. So I must go. To-morrow, my dear, a +better home shall be found for you and Edith. That I promise upon my own +responsibility. And, now, my dear, excellent girl, good-by. I will see +you again in the morning." + +And Mrs. Waugh took leave. + +"No," thundered Commodore Waugh, thrusting his head forward and bringing +his stick down heavily upon the floor. "No, I say! I will not be +bothered with her or her troubles. Don't talk to me! I care nothing +about them! What should her trials be to me? The precious affair has +turned out just as I expected it would! Only what I did not expect was +that we should have her back upon our hands! I wonder at Edith! I +thought she had more pride than to come back to me for comfort after +leaving as she did!" + +This was all the satisfaction Mrs. Waugh got from Old Nick, when she had +related to him the sorrowful story of Edith's widowhood and return, and +had appealed to his generosity in her behalf. But he unbent so far as to +allow Edith and Marian to be installed at Mrs. L'Oiseau's cottage, and +even grudgingly permitted Henrietta to settle a pension upon her. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +WANDERING FANNY. + + +It was a jocund morning in early summer--some five years after the +events related in the last chapter. + +Old Field Cottage was a perfect gem of rural beauty. The Old Fields +themselves no longer deserved the name--the repose of years had restored +them to fertility, and now they were blooming in pristine youth--far as +the eye could reach between the cottage and the forest, and the cottage +and the sea-beach, the fields were covered with a fine growth of sweet +clover, whose verdure was most refreshing to the sight. The young trees +planted by Marian, had grown up, forming a pleasant grove around the +house. The sweet honeysuckle and fragrant white jasmine, and the rich, +aromatic, climbing rose, had run all over the walls and windows of the +house, embowering it in verdure, bloom and perfume. + +While Marian stood enjoying for a few moments the morning hour, she was +startled by the sound of rapid footsteps, and then by the sight of a +young woman in wild attire, issuing from the grove at the right of the +cottage, and flying like a hunted hare toward the house. + +Marian impulsively opened the gate, and the creature fled in, +frantically clapped to the gate, and stood leaning with her back +against it, and panting with haste and terror. + +She was a young and pretty woman--pretty, notwithstanding the wildness +of her staring black eyes and the disorder of her long black hair that +hung in tangled tresses to her waist. Her head and feet were bare, and +her white gown was spotted with green stains of the grass, and torn by +briars, as were also her bleeding feet and arms. Marian felt for her the +deepest compassion; a mere glance had assured her that the poor, +panting, pretty creature was insane. Marian took her hand and gently +pressing it, said: + +"You look very tired and faint--come in and rest yourself and take +breakfast with us." + +The stranger drew away her hand and looked at Marian from head to foot. +But in the midst of her scrutiny, she suddenly sprang, glanced around, +and trembling violently, grasped the gate for support. It was but the +tramping of a colt through the clover that had startled her. + +"Do not be frightened; there is nothing that can hurt you; you are safe +here." + +"And won't he come?" + +"Who, poor girl?" + +"The Destroyer!" + +"No, poor one, no destroyer comes near us here; see how quiet and +peaceable everything is here!" + +The wanderer slowly shook her head with a cunning, bitter smile, that +looked stranger on her fair face than the madness itself had looked, +and: + +"So it was there," she said, "but the Destroyer was at hand, and +the thunder of terror and destruction burst upon our quiet--but I +forgot--the fair spirit said I was not to think of that--such thoughts +would invoke the fiend again," added the poor creature, smoothing her +forehead with both hands, and then flinging them wide, as if to dispel +and cast away some painful concentration there. + +"But now come in and lie down on the sofa, and rest, while I make you a +cup of coffee," said Marian. + +But the same expression of cunning came again into the poor creature's +face, as she said: + +"In the house? No, no--no, no! Fanny has learned something. Fanny knows +better than to go under roofs--they are traps to catch rabbits! 'Twas in +the house the Destroyer found us, and we couldn't get out! No, no! a +fair field and no favor and Fanny will outfly the fleetest of them! But +not in a house, not in a house!" + +"Well, then I will bring an easy chair out here for you to rest in--you +can sit under the shade, and have a little stand by your side, to eat +your breakfast. Come; come nearer to the house," said Marian, taking +poor Fanny's hand, and leading her up the walk. + +They were at the threshold. + +"Are you Marian?" poor Fanny asked, abruptly. + +"Yes, that is my name." + +"Oh, I oughtn't to have come here! I oughtn't to have come here!" + +"Why? What is the matter? Come, be calm! Nothing can hurt you or us +here!" + +"Don't love! Marian, don't love! Be a nun, or drown yourself, but +never love!" said the woman, seizing the young girl's hands, gazing on +her beautiful face, and speaking with intense and painful earnestness. + +"Why? Love is life. You had as well tell me not to live as not to love. +Poor sister! I have not known you an hour, yet your sorrows so touch me, +that my heart goes out toward you, and I want to bring you in to our +home, and take care of you," said Marian, gently. + +"You do?" asked the wanderer, incredulously. + +"Heaven knows I do! I wish to nurse you back to health and calmness." + +"Then I would not for the world bring so much evil to you! Yet it is a +lovelier place to die in, with loving faces around." + +"But it is a better place to live in! I do not let people die where I +am, unless the Lord has especially called them. I wish to make you well! +Come, drive away all these evil fancies and let me take you into the +cottage," said Marian, taking her hand. + +Yielding to the influence of the young girl, poor Fanny suffered herself +to be led a few steps toward the cottage; then, with a piercing shriek, +she suddenly snatched her hand away, crying: + +"I should draw the lightning down upon your head! I am doomed! I must +not enter!" And she turned and fled out of the gate. + +Marian gazed after her in the deepest compassion, the tears filling her +kind blue eyes. + +"Weep not for me, beautiful and loving Marian, but for +yourself--yourself!" + +Marian hesitated. It were vain to follow and try to draw the wanderer +into the house; yet she could not bear the thought of leaving her. In +the meantime the sound of the shriek had brought Edith out. She came, +leading her little daughter Miriam, now five years old, by the hand. + +Edith was scarcely changed in these five years--a life without +excitement or privation or toil--a life of moderation and regularity--of +easy household duties, and quiet family affections, had restored and +preserved her maiden beauty. And now her pretty hair had its own will, +and fell in slight, flossy black ringlets down each side the pearly brow +and cheeks; and nothing could have been more in keeping with the style +of her beauty than the simple, close-fitting black gown, her habitual +dress. + +But lovely as the young mother was, you would scarcely have looked at +her a second time while she held that child by her hand--so marvelous +was the fascination of that little creature's countenance. It was a face +to attract, to charm, to delight, to draw you in, and rivet your whole +attention, until you became absorbed and lost in the study of its +mysterious spell--a witching face, whose nameless charm it were +impossible to tell, I might describe the fine dark Jewish features, the +glorious eyes, the brilliant complexion, and the fall of long, glossy, +black ringlets that veiled the proud little head; but the spell lay not +in them, any more than in the perfect symmetry of her form, or the +harmonious grace of her motion, or the melodious intonations of her +voice. + +Edith, still leading the little girl, advanced to Marian's side, where +the latter stood at the yard gate. + +"I heard a scream, Marian, dear--what was it?" + +Marian pointed to the old elm tree outside the cottage fence, under the +shade of which stood the poor stroller, pressing her side, and panting +for breath. + +"Edith, do you see that young woman? She it was." + +"Good heaven!" exclaimed Edith, turning a shade paler, and beginning, +with trembling fingers, to unfasten the gate. + +"Why, do you know her, Edith?" + +"Yes! yes! My soul, it is Fanny Laurie! I thought she was in some asylum +at the North!" said Edith, passing the gate, and going up to the +wanderer. "Fanny! Fanny! Dearest Fanny!" she said, taking her thin hand, +and looking in her crazed eyes and lastly, putting both arms around her +neck and kissing her. + +"Do you kiss me?" asked the poor creature, in amazement. + +"Yes, dear Fanny! Don't you know me?" + +"Yes, yes, you are--I know you--you are--let's see, now--" + +"Edith Lance, you know--your old playmate!" + +"Ah! yes, I know--you had another name." + +"Edith Shields, since I was married, but I am widowed now, Fanny." + +"Yes, I know--Fanny has heard them talk!" + +She swept her hands across her brow several times, as if to clear her +mental vision, and gazing upon Edith, said: + +"Ah! old playmate! Did the palms lie? The ravaged tome, the +blood-stained hearth, and the burning roof for me--the fated nuptials, +the murdered bridegroom, and the fatherless child for you. Did the palms +lie, Edith? You were ever incredulous! Answer, did the palms lie?" + +"The prediction was partly fulfilled, as it was very likely to be at the +time our neighborhood was overrun by a ruthless foe. It happened so, +poor Fanny! You did not know the future, any more than I did--no one on +earth knows the mysteries of the future, 'not the angels in heaven, nor +the Son, but the Father only.'" + +This seemed to annoy the poor creature--soothsaying, by palmistry, had +been her weakness in her brighter days, and now the strange propensity +clung to her through the dark night of her sorrows, and received +strength from her insanity. + +"Come in, dear Fanny," said Edith, "come in and stay with us." + +"No, no!" she almost shrieked again. "I should bring a curse upon your +house! Oh! I could tell you if you would hear! I could warn you, if you +would be warned! But you will not! you will not!" she continued, +wringing her hands in great trouble. + +"You shall predict my fate and Miriam's," said Marian, smiling, as she +opened the gate, and came out leading the child. "And I know," she +continued, holding out her palm, "that it will be such a fair fate, as +to brighten up your spirits for sympathy with it." + +"No! I will not look at your hand!" cried Fanny, turning away. Then, +suddenly changing her mood, she snatched Marian's palm, and gazed upon +it long and intently; gradually her features became disturbed--dark +shadows seemed to sweep, as a funereal train, across her face--her bosom +heaved--she dropped the maiden's hand. + +"Why, Fanny, you have told me nothing! What do you see in my future?" +asked Marian. + +The maniac looked up, and breaking, as she sometimes did, into +improvisation, chanted, in the most mournful of tones, these words: + +"Darkly, deadly, lowers the shadow, + Quickly, thickly, comes the crowd-- +From death's bosom creeps the adder, + Trailing slime upon the shroud!" + +Marian grew pale, so much, at the moment, was she infected with the +words and manner of this sybil; but then, "Nonsense!" she thought, and, +with a smile, roused herself to shake off the chill that was creeping +upon her. + +"Feel! the air! the air!" said Fanny, lifting her hand. + +"Yes, it is going to rain," said Edith. "Come in, dear Fanny." + +But Fanny did not hear--the fitful, uncertain creature had seized the +hand of the child Miriam, and was gazing alternately upon the lines in +the palm and upon her fervid, eloquent face. + +"What is this? Oh! what is this?" she said, sweeping the black tresses +back from her bending brow, and fastening her eyes upon Miriam's palm. +"What can it mean? A deep cross from the Mount of Venus crosses the line +of life, and forks into the line of death! a great sun in the plain of +Mars--a cloud in the vale of Mercury! and where the lines of life and +death meet, a sanguine spot and a great star! I cannot read it! In a +boy's hand, that would betoken a hero's career, and a glorious death in +a victorious field; but in a girl's! What can it mean when found in a +girl's? Stop!" And she peered into the hand for a few moments in deep +silence, and then her face lighted up, her eyes burned intensely, and +once more she broke forth in improvisation: + +"Thou shalt be bless'd as maiden fair was never bless'd before, +And the heart of thy belov'd shall be most gentle, kind and pure; +But thy red hand shall be lifted at duty's stern behest, +And give to fell destruction the head thou lov'st the best. + +"Feel! the air! the air!" she exclaimed, suddenly dropping the child's +hand, and lifting her own toward the sky. + +"Yes, I told you it was going to rain, but there will not be much, only +a light shower from the cloud just over our heads." + +"It is going to weep! Nature mourns for her darling child! Hark! I hear +the step of him that cometh! Fly, fair one! fly! Stay not here to listen +to the voice of the charmer, charm he never so wisely!" cried the wild +creature, as she dashed off toward the forest. + +Marian and Edith looked after her, in the utmost compassion. + +"Who is the poor, dear creature, Edith, and what has reduced her to this +state?" + +"She was an old playmate of my own, Marian. I never mentioned her to +you--I never could bear to do so. She was one of the victims of the war. +She was the child of Colonel Fairlie and the bride of Henry Laurie, one +of the most accomplished and promising young men in the State. In one +night their house was attacked, and Fanny saw her father and her husband +massacred, and her home burned before her face! She--fell into the hands +of the soldiers! She went mad from that night!" + +"Most horrible!" ejaculated Marian. + +"She was sent to one of the best Northern asylums, and the property she +inherited was placed in the hands of a trustee--old Mr. Hughes, who died +last week, you know; and now that he is dead and she is out, I don't +know what will be done, I don't understand it at all." + +"Has she no friends, no relatives? She must not be allowed to wander in +this way," said the kind girl, with the tears swimming in her eyes. + +"I shall always be her friend, Marian. She has no others that I know of +now; and no relative, except her young cousin, Thurston Willcoxen, who +has been abroad at a German University these five years past, and who, +in event of Fanny's death, would inherit her property. We must get her +here, if possible. I will go in and send Jenny after her. She will +probably overtake her in the forest, and may be able to persuade her to +come back. At least, I shall tell Jenny to keep her in sight, until she +is in some place of safety." + +"Do, dear Edith!" + +"Are you not coming?" said Edith, as she led her little girl toward the +house. + +"In one moment, dear; I wish only to bind up this morning-glory, that +poor Fanny chanced to pull down as she ran through." + +Edith disappeared in the cottage. + +Marian stood with both her rosy arms raised, in the act of binding up +the vine, that with its wealth of splendid azure-hued, vase-shaped +flowers, over-canopied her beautiful head like a triumphal arch. She +stood there, as I said, like a radiant, blooming goddess of life and +health, summer sunshine and blushing flowers. + +The light tramp of horse's feet fell upon her ear. She looked up, and +with surprise lighting her dark-blue eyes, beheld a gentleman mounted on +a fine black Arabian courser, that curveted gracefully and capriciously +before the cottage gate. + +Smilingly the gentleman soothed and subdued the coquettish mood of his +willful steed, and then dismounted and bowing with matchless grace and +much deference, addressed Marian. + +The maiden was thinking that she had never seen a gentleman with a +presence and a manner so graceful, courteous and princely in her life. +He was a tall, finely proportioned, handsome man, with a superb head, an +aquiline profile, and fair hair and fair complexion. The great charm, +however, was in the broad, sunny forehead, in the smile of ineffable +sweetness, in the low and singularly mellifluous voice, and the manner, +gentle and graceful as any woman's. + +"Pardon me, my name is Willcoxen, young lady, and I have the honor of +addressing--" + +"Miss Mayfield," said Marian. + +"Thank you," said the gentleman, with one involuntary gaze of +enthusiastic admiration that called all the roses out in full bloom upon +the maiden's cheeks; then governing himself, he bent his eyes to the +ground, and said, with great deference: "You will pardon the liberty I +have taken in calling here, Miss Mayfield, when I tell you that I am in +search of an unhappy young relative, who, I am informed, passed here not +long since." + +"She left us not ten minutes ago, sir, much against our wishes. My +sister has just sent a servant to the forest in search of her, to bring +her back, if possible. Will you enter, and wait till she returns?" + +With a beaming smile and graceful bend, and in the same sweet tones, he +thanked her, and declined the invitation. Then he remounted his horse, +and bowing deeply, rode off in the direction Fanny had taken. + +This was certainly a day of arrivals at Old Fields. Usually weeks would +pass without any one passing to or from the cottage, except Marian, +whose cheerful, kindly, social disposition, was the sole connecting link +between the cottage and the neighborhood around it. But this day seemed +to be an exception. + +While yet the little party lingered at the breakfast-table, Edith looked +up, and saw the tall, thin figure of a woman in a nankeen riding-shirt, +and a nankeen corded sun-bonnet, in the act of dismounting from her +great, raw-boned white horse, + +"If there isn't Miss Nancy Skamp!" exclaimed Edith, in no very +hospitable tone--"and I wonder how she can leave the post-office." + +"Oh! this is not mail day!" replied Marian, laughing, "notwithstanding +which we shall have news enough." And Marian who, for her part, was +really glad to see the old lady, arose to meet and welcome her. + +Miss Nancy was little changed; the small, tall, thin, narrow-chested, +stooping figure--the same long, fair, freckled, sharp set face--the +same prim cap, and clean, scant, faded gown, or one of the same +sort--made up her personal individuality. Miss Nancy now had charge of +the village post-office; and her early and accurate information +respecting all neighborhood affairs, was obtained, it was whispered, by +an official breach of trust; if so, however, no creature except Miss +Nancy, her black boy, and her white cat, knew it. She was a great news +carrier, it is true, yet she was not especially addicted to scandal. To +her, news was news, whether good or bad, and so she took almost as much +pleasure in exciting the wonder of her listeners by recounting the good +action or good fortune of her neighbors or the reverse. + +And so, after having dropped her riding-skirt, and given that and her +bonnet to Marian to carry up-stairs, and seated herself in the chair +that Edith offered her at the table, she said, sipping her coffee, and +glancing between the white curtains and the green vines of the open +window out upon the bay: + +"You have the sweetest place, and the finest sea view here, my dear Mrs. +Shields; but that is not what I was a-going to say. I was going to tell +you that I hadn't hearn from you so long, that I thought I must take an +early ride this morning, and spend the day with you. And I thought you'd +like to hear about your old partner at the dancing-school, young Mr. +Thurston Willcoxen, a-coming back--la, yes! to be sure! we had almost +all of us forgotten him, leastwise I had. And then, Miss Marian," she +said, as our blooming girl returned to her place at the table, "I just +thought I would bring over that muslin for the collars and caps you were +so good as to say you'd make for me." + +"Yes, I am glad you brought them, Miss Nancy," said Marian, in her +cheerful tone, as she helped herself to another roll. + +"I hope you are not busy now, my dear." + +"Oh, I'm always busy, thank Heaven! but that makes no difference, Miss +Nancy; I shall find time to do your work this week and next." + +"I am sure it is very good of you, Miss Marian, to sew for me for +nothing; when--" + +"Oh, pray, don't speak of it, Miss Nancy." + +"But indeed, my dear, I must say I never saw anybody like you! If +anybody's too old to sew, and too poor to put it out, it is 'Miss +Marian' who will do it for kindness; and if anybody is sick, it is 'Miss +Marian' who is sent for to nurse them; and if any poor negro, or +ignorant white person, has friends off at a distance they want to hear +from, it is 'Miss Marian' who writes all their letters!" + +When they arose from breakfast, and the room was tidied up, and Edith, +and Marian, and their guest, were seated at their work, with all the +cottage windows open to admit the fresh and fragrant air, and the rural +landscape on one side, and the sea view on the other, and while little +Miriam sat at their feet dressing a nun doll, and old Jenny betook +herself to the garden to gather vegetables for the day, Miss Nancy +opened her budget, and gave them all the news of the month. But in that +which concerned Thurston Willcoxen alone was Edith interested, and of +him she learned the following facts: Of the five years which Mr. +Willcoxen had been absent in the eastern hemisphere, three had been +spent at the German University, where he graduated with the highest +honors; eighteen months had been passed in travel through Europe, Asia, +and Africa; and the last year had been spent in the best circles in the +city of Paris. He had been back to his native place about three weeks. +Since the death of Fanny Laurie's old guardian, the judge of the +Orphans' Court had appointed him sole trustee of her property, and +guardian of her person. As soon as he had received this power, he had +gone to the asylum, where the poor creature was confined, and hearing +her pronounced incurable, though harmless, he had set her at liberty, +brought her home to his own house, and had hired a skillful, attentive +nurse to wait upon her. + +"And you never saw such kindness and compassion, Miss Marian, except in +yourself. I do declare to you, that his manner to that poor unfortunate +is as delicate and reverential and devoted as if she were the most +accomplished and enviable lady in the land, and more so, Miss Marian, +more so!" + +"I can well believe it! He looks like that!" said the beautiful girl, +her face flushing and her eyes filling with generous sympathy. But +Marian was rather averse to sentimentality, so dashing the sparkling +drops from her blushing cheeks, she looked up and said: "Miss Nancy, we +are going to have chickens for dinner. How do you like them cooked? It +don't matter a bit to Edith and me." + +"Stewed, then, if you please, Miss Marian! or stop--no--I think baked in +a pie!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE FOREST FAIRY. + + +On the afternoon of the same day spent by Miss Nancy Skamp at Old Field +Cottage, the family at Luckenough were assembled in that broad, central +passage, their favorite resort in warm weather. + +Five years had made very little alteration here, excepting in the case +of Jacquelina, who had grown up to be the most enchanting sprite that +ever bewitched the hearts, or turned the heads of men. She was petite, +slight, agile, graceful; clustering curls of shining gold encircled a +round, white forehead, laughing in light; springs under springs of fun +and frolic sparkled up from the bright, blue eyes, whose flashing light +flew bird-like everywhere, but rested nowhere. She seemed even less +human and irresponsible than when a child--verily a being of the air, +a fairy, without human thoughtfulness, or sympathy, or affections! She +only seemed so--under all that fay-like levity there was a heart. Poor +heart! little food or cultivation had it had in all its life. + +For who had been Jacquelina's educators? + +First, there was the commodore, with his alternations of blustering +wrath and foolish fondness, giving way to his anger, or indulging his +love, without the slightest regard to the effect produced upon his young +ward--too often abusing her for something really admirable in her +nature--and full as frequently praising her for something proportionately +reprehensible in her conduct. + +Next, there was the dark, and solemn, and fanatical Dr. Grimshaw, her +destined bridegroom, who really and truly loved the child to fatuity, +and conscientiously did the very best he could for her mental and moral +welfare, according to his light. Alas! "when the light that is in one is +darkness, how great is that darkness!" Jacquelina rewarded his serious +efforts with laughter, and flattered him with the pet names of Hobgoblin, +Ghoul, Gnome, Ogre, etc. Yet she did not dislike her solemn suitor--she +never had taken the matter so seriously as that! And he on his part bore +the eccentricities of the elf with matchless patience, for he loved her, +as I said, to fatuity--doted on her with a passion that increased with +ripening years, and of late consumed him like a fever. + +And then there was her mother, last named because, whatever she should +have been, she really was the least important of Jacquelina's teachers. +Fear was the key-note of Mrs. L'Oiseau's character--the key-stone in the +arch of her religious faith--she feared everything--the opinion of the +world, the unfaithfulness of friends, changes in the weather, reverses +of fortune, pain, sickness, sorrow, want, labor! + +Now the time had not yet come for this proposed marriage to shock the +merry maiden. She was "ower young to marry yet." + +So thought not the commodore; for a year past, since his niece had +attained the age of fourteen, he had been worrying himself and the +elders of the family to have the marriage solemnized, "before the little +devil shall have time to get some other notion into her erratic head," +he said. All were opposed to him, holding over his head the only rod he +dreaded, the opinion of the world. + +"What would people say if you were to marry your niece of fourteen to a +man of thirty-four?" they urged. + +"But I tell you, young men are beginning to pay attention to her now, +and I can't take her to church that some jackanapes don't come capering +around her, and the minx will get some whim in her head like Edith +did--I know she will! Just see how Edith disappointed me! ungrateful +huzzy! after my bringing her up and educating her, for her to do so! +While, if she had married Grim when I wanted her to do it, by this time +I'd have had my grandchil--! I mean nieces and nephews climbing about my +knees. But by ----! I won't be frustrated this time!" + +And so Jacquelina was kept more secluded than ever. Secluded from +society, but not from nature. The forest became her haunt. And a chance +traveler passing through it, and meeting her fay-like form, might well +suppose he was deceived with the vision of a wood-nymph. + +The effervescent spirits of the elf had to expend themselves in the same +way. As a child she had ever been as remarkable for surprising feats of +agility as for fun, frolic, mischief, and _diablerie_. And every one of +these traits augmented with her growth. Feats of agility became a +passion with her--her airy spirit seemed only to find its full freedom +in rapid motion in daring flights, in difficult achievements, and in +hair-breadth escapes. Everything that she read of in that way, which +could possibly be imitated, was attempted. She had her bows and arrows, +and by original fitness, as well as by constant practice, she became an +excellent markswoman. She had her well-trained horse, and her vaulting +bars, and made nothing of flying over a high fence or a wide ditch. But +her last whim was the most eccentric of all. She had her lance. And, her +favorite pastime was to have a small ring suspended from a crossbeam, +and while riding at full speed, with her light lance balanced in her +hand, to catch this ring and bear it off upon the point of that lance. +In feats of agility alone she excelled, not in those of strength--that +airy, fragile form was well fitted for swiftness and sureness of action, +yet not for muscular force. Her uncle and Grim indulged her in all these +frolics--her uncle in great delight; Grim, under the protest that they +were unworthy of an immortal being with eternity to prepare for. + +In these five past years, Cloudesley had been at sea, and had only +returned home once--namely, at the end of the stated three years. He had +been received with unbounded joy by his child-friend; had brought her +his outgrown suit of uniform; had spent several months at Luckenough, +and renewed his old delightful intimacy with its little heiress +presumptive, and at length had gone to sea again for another three +years' voyage. And it must be confessed that Jacquelina had found the +second parting more grievous than the first. And this time Cloudesley +had fully shared her sorrow. He had been absent a year, when, upon one +night the old mansion, that had withstood the storms of more than two +hundred winters, was burned to the ground! + +The fire broke out in the kitchen. How, no one knew exactly. + +Be the cause as it may, upon the evening of the fire Jacquelina had gone +to her room--she had an apartment to herself now--and feeling for the +first time in her life some little uneasiness about her uncle's "whim" +of wedding her to Grim, she had walked about the floor for some time in +much disquietude of mind and body; then she went to a wardrobe, and took +out Cloudy's treasured first uniform, and held it up before her. How +small it looked now; why, it was scarcely too large for herself! And how +much Cloudy had outgrown it! It had fitted him nicely at sixteen, now he +was twenty-one, and in two years more he would be home again! Smiling to +herself, and tossing her charming head, as at some invisible foe, she +said: + +"Yes, indeed. I should so like to see them marry me to that ogre Grim!" + +She pressed the cloth up to her face, and put it away, and, still +smiling to herself, retired to rest, to dream of her dear playmate. + +She dreamed of being in his ship on the open sea, the scene idealized to +supernatural beauty and sublimity, as all such scenes are in dreams; and +then she thought the ship took fire, and she saw, and heard, and felt +the great panic and horror that ensued. + +She woke in a terrible fright. A part of her dream was true! Her +chamber was filled with smoke, and the house was chaotic with noise +and confusion, and resounded with cries of "Fire! Fire!" everywhere. +What happened next passed with the swiftness of lightning. She jumped +out of bed, seized a woolen shawl, and wrapped it around her head, and +even in that imminent danger not forgetting her most cherished +treasure--Cloudy's suit of uniform--snatched it from the wardrobe and +fled out of the room. Her swift and dipping motion that had gained her +the name of "Lapwing" now served her well. Shooting her bright head +forward and downward, she fled through all the passages and down all the +stairs and out by the great hall, that was all in flames, until she +reached the lawn, where the panic-stricken and nearly idiotic household +were assembled, weeping, moaning and wringing their hands, while they +gazed upon the work of destruction before them in impotent despair! + +Jacquelina looked all around the group, each figure of which glared +redly in the light of the flames. All were present--all but the +commodore! Where could the commodore be? + +Jacquelina ran through the crowd looking for him in all directions. He +was nowhere visible, though the whole area was lighted up, even to the +edge of the forest, every tree and branch and twig and leaf of which was +distinctly revealed in the strong, red glare. + +"Where is uncle? Oh! where is uncle?" she exclaimed, running wildly +about, and finally going up to Mrs. Waugh, who stood looking, the statue +of consternation. + +Jacquelina shook her by the arm. + +"Aunty! aunty! Where is uncle? Are you bewitched? Where is uncle?" + +"Where? Here, somewhere. I saw him run out before me." + +"No, you didn't! You mistook somebody else for him. Oh, my Lord! he is +in the burning house! he is in the house!" + +"Oh, he is in the house! he is in the house!" echoed Henrietta, now +roused from her panic, and wringing her hands in the most acute +distress. "Oh! will nobody save him! will nobody save him!" + +It was too late! Commodore Waugh was in the burning mansion, in his +bedchamber, near the top of the house, fast asleep! + +"Good heaven! will no one attempt to save him?" screamed Henrietta, +running wildly from one to the other. + +They all gazed on each other, and then in consternation upon the burning +building, every window of which was belching flame, while the sound of +some falling rafter, or the explosion of some combustible substance, was +continually heard! To venture into that blazing house, with its sinking +roof and falling rafters, seemed certain death. + +"Oh! my God! my God! will none even try to save him?" cried Henrietta, +wringing her hands in extreme anguish. + +Suddenly: + +"Pray for me, aunty!" exclaimed Jacquelina, and she darted like a bird +toward the house, into the passage, and seemed lost in the smoke and +flame! + +Wrapping her woolen shawl closely about her, and keeping near the floor, +she glided swiftly up the stairs, flight after flight, and through the +suffocating passages, until she reached her uncle's door. It was open, +and his room was clearer of smoke than any other, from the wind blowing +through the open window. + +There he lay in a deep sleep! She sprang to the bedside, seized and +shook the arm of the sleeper. + +"Uncle! uncle! wake, for God's sake, wake! the house is on fire!" + +"Hum-m-m-e!" muttered the old man, giving a great heave and plunge, and +turning over into a heavier sleep than before. + +"Uncle! uncle! You will be burned to death if you don't wake up!" cried +Jacquelina, shaking him violently. + +"Humph! Yes, Jacquelina! um--um--um--Grim! um--um--Luckenough!" +muttered the dreamer, flinging about his great arms. + +"Luckenough is in flames! Uncle! wake! wake!" she cried, shaking him +frantically. + +"Ah! ha! yes! d--d little rascal is at her tricks again!" he said, +laughing in his sleep. + +At that moment there was the sound of a falling rafter in the adjoining +room. Every instant was worth a life, and there he lay in a sodden, +hopeless sleep. + +Suddenly Sans Souci ran to the ewer; it was empty. There was no time to +be lost! every second was invaluable! He must be instantly roused, and +Jacquelina was not fastidious as to the means in doing so! + +Leaping upon the bolster behind his great, stupid head, she reached +over, and, seizing the mass of his gray, grizzly beard, she pulled up +the wrong way with all her might, until, roaring with pain, he started +up in a fury, and, seeing her, exclaimed: + +"Oh! you abominable little vixen! is that you: Do you dare! Are you +frantic, then? Oh, you outrageous little dare-devil! Won't I send you to +a mad-house, and have you put in a strait-jacket, till you know how to +behave yourself! You infernal little wretch, you!" + +A sudden thought struck Sans Souci to move him by his affection for +herself. + +"Uncle, look around you! The house is burning! if you do not rouse +yourself and save your poor little 'wretch,' she must perish in the +flames!" + +This effectually brought him to his senses; he understood everything! he +leaped from his bed, seized a blanket, enveloped her in it, raised her +in his arms, and, forgetting gout, lameness, leg and all, bore her down +the creaking, heated stairs, flight after flight, and through the +burning passages out of the house in safety. + +A shout of joy greeted the commodore as he appeared with Jacquelina in +the yard. + +But heeding nothing but the burden he bore in his arms, the old sailor +strode on until he reached a convenient spot, where he threw the blanket +off her face to give her air. + +She had fainted--the terror and excitement had been too great--the +reaction was too powerful--it had overwhelmed her, and she lay insensible +across his arms, her fair head hanging back, her white garments streaming +in the air, her golden locks floating, her witching eyes closed, and her +blue lips apart and rigid on her glistening teeth--so she lay like dead +Cordelia in the arms of old Lear. + +Henrietta and Mrs. L'Oiseau, followed by all the household, crowded +around them with water, the only restorative at hand. + +At length she recovered and looked up, a little bewildered, but soon +memory and understanding returned and, gazing at her uncle, she suddenly +threw her arms around his neck and burst into tears. + +She was then carried away into one of the best negro quarters and laid +upon a bed, and attended by her mother and her maid Maria. + +The commodore, with his wife, found shelter in another quarter. And the +few remaining members of the household were accommodated in a similar +manner elsewhere. + +It was near noon before they were all ready to set forth from the scene +of disaster, and it was the middle of the afternoon when they found +themselves temporarily settled at the little hotel at Benedict in the +very apartments formerly occupied by Edith and Marian. + +Here Jacquelina suffered a long and severe spell of illness, during +which her bright hair was cut off. + +And here beautiful Marian came, with her gift of tender nursing, and +devoted herself day and night to the service of the young invalid. And +all the leisure time she found while sitting by the sick bed she busily +employed in making up clothing for the almost denuded family. And never +had the dear girl's nimble fingers flown so fast or so willingly. + +Every day the commodore, accompanied by Dr. Grimshaw, rode over to +Luckenough to superintend the labors of the workmen in pulling down and +clearing away the ruins of the old mansion and preparing the site for a +new building. + +Six weeks passed and brought the first of August, before Jacquelina was +able to sit up, and then the physicians recommended change of air and +the waters of Bentley Springs for the re-establishment of her health. + +During her illness, Jacquelina had become passionately attached to +Marian, as all persons did who came under the daily influence of the +beautiful girl. Dr. Grimshaw was to accompany the family to Bentley. +Jacquelina insisted that Marian should be asked to make one of the +party. Accordingly, the commodore and Mrs. Waugh, nothing loth, invited +and pressed the kind maiden to go with them. But Marian declined the +journey, and Commodore Waugh, with his wife, his niece and his Grim set +out in the family carriage for Bentley Springs. Jacquelina rapidly +regained health and rushed again to her mad breaks. After a stormy scene +with the commodore, the latter vowed she should either marry Dr. +Grimshaw or be sent to a nunnery. To the convent of St. Serena she went, +but within a week she was home in disgrace. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +CLIPPING A BIRD'S WINGS. + + +The clouds were fast gathering over poor San Souci's heavens. + +The commodore had quite recovered for the time being, and he began to +urge the marriage of his niece with his favorite. Dr. Grimshaw's +importunities were also becoming very tiresome. They were no longer a +jest. She could no longer divert herself with them. She felt them as a +real persecution, and expressed herself accordingly. To Grim she said: + +"Once I used to laugh at you. But now I do hate you more than anything +in the universe! And I wish--I do wish that you were in heaven! for I do +detest the very sight of you--there!" + +And to the commodore's furious threats she would answer: + +"Uncle, the time has passed by centuries ago for forcing girls into +wedlock, thanks be to Christianity and civilization. You can't force me +to have Grim, and you had as well give up the wicked purpose," or words +to that effect. + +One day when she had said something of the sort, the commodore answered, +cruelly: + +"Very well, miss! I force no one, please to understand! But I afford my +protection and support only upon certain conditions, and withdraw them +when those conditions are not fulfilled! Neither you nor your mother had +any legal claim upon me. I was not in any way bound to feed and clothe +and house you for so many years. I did it with the tacit understanding +that you were to marry to please me, and all your life you have +understood, as well as any of us, that you were to wed Dr. Grimshaw." + +"If such an understanding existed, it was without my consent, and was +originated in my infancy, and I do not feel and I will not be in the +least degree bound by it! For the expense of my support and education, +uncle! I am truly sorry that you risked it upon the hazardous chance of +my liking or disliking the man of your choice! But as I had no hand in +your venture, I do not feel the least responsible for your losses. Yours +is the fate of a gambler in human hearts who has staked and lost--that +is the worst!" + +"And by all the fiends in fire, Minion! you shall find that it is +not the worst. I know how to make you knuckle under, and I shall do +it!" exclaimed the commodore in a rage, as he rose up and strode off +toward the room occupied by Mary L'Oiseau. Without the ceremony of +knocking, he burst the door open with one blow of his foot, and entered +where the poor, feverish, frightened creature was lying down to take a +nap. Throwing himself into a chair by her bedside, he commenced a +furious attack upon the trembling invalid. He recounted, with much +exaggeration, the scene that had just transpired between himself and +Jacquelina--repeated with additions her undutiful words, bitterly +reproached Mary for encouraging and fostering that rebellious and +refractory temper in her daughter, warned her to bring the headstrong +girl to a sense of her position and duty, or to prepare to leave his +roof; for he swore he "wouldn't be hectored over and trodden down by her +nor her daughter any longer!" And so having overwhelmed the timid, +nervous woman with undeserved reproaches and threats, he arose and left +the room. + +And can any one be surprised that her illness was increased, and her +fever arose and her senses wandered all night? When her mother was ill, +Jacquelina could not sleep. Now she sat by her bedside sponging her hot +hands and keeping ice to her head and giving drink to slake her burning +thirst and listening, alas! to her sad and rambling talk about their +being turned adrift in the world to starve to death, or to perish in the +snow--calling on her daughter to save them both by yielding to her +uncle's will! And Jacquelina heard and understood, and wept and +sighed--a new experience to the poor girl, who was + +"Not used to tears at night +Instead of slumber!" + +All through the night she nursed her with unremitting care. And in the +morning, when the fever waned, and the patient was wakeful, though +exhausted, she left her only to bring the refreshing cup of tea and +plate of toast prepared by her own hands. + +But when she brought it to the bedside the pale invalid waved it away. +She felt as if she could not eat. Fear had clutched her throat and would +not relax its hold. + +"I want to talk to you, Jacquelina," she said. + +"Eat and drink first, Mimmy, and then you and I will have such another +good talk!" said Jacquelina, coaxingly. + +"I can't! Oh! I can't swallow a mouthful, I am choking now!" + +"Oh! that is nothing but the hysterics, Mimmy! 'high strikes,' as Jenny +calls them! I feel like I should have them myself sometimes! Come! cheer +up, Mimmy! Your fever is off and your head is cool! Come, take this +consoling cup of tea and bit of toast, and you will feel so much +stronger and cheerfuler." + +"Tea! Oh! everything I eat and drink in this unhappy house is +bitter--the bitter cup and bitter bread of dependence!" + +"Put more sugar into it, then, Mimmy, and sweeten it! Come! Things are +not yet desperate! Cheer up!" + +"What do you mean, my love? Have you consented to be married to Dr. +Grimshaw?" + +"No! St. Mary! Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Jacquelina, shuddering for the +first time. + +"Now, why 'heaven forbid?' Oh! my child, why are you so perverse? Why +won't you take him, since your uncle has set his heart upon the match?" + +"Oh, mother!" + +"I know you are very young to be married--too young! far too young! Only +sixteen, gracious heaven! But then you know we have no alternative but +that, or starvation; and it is not as if you were to be married to a +youth of your own age--this gentleman is of grave years and character, +which makes a great difference." + +"I should think it did." + +"What makes you shiver and shake so, my dear? Are you cold or nervous? +Poor child, you got no sleep last night. Do you drink that cup of tea, +my dear. You need it more than I do." + +"No, no." + +"Why, what is the matter with my fairy?" + +"Oh, mother, mother, don't take sides against me! don't! or you will +drive me to my ruin. Who will take a child's part, if her mother don't? +I love you best of all the world, mother. Do not takes sides against me! +take my part! help me to be true! to be true!" + +"True to whom, Jacquelina? What are you talking about?" + +"True to this heart--to this heart, mother! to all that is honest and +good in my nature." + +"I don't understand you at all." + +"Oh, mother, the thought of marrying anybody is unwelcome to me now; and +the idea of being married to Grim is abhorrent; is like that of being +sold to a master that I hate, or sent to prison for life; it is full of +terror and despair. Oh! oh!--" + +"Don't talk so wildly, Jacquelina, you make me ill." + +"Do I, Mimmy? Oh, I didn't mean to worry you. Bear up, Mimmy; do try to +bear up; don't fear; suppose he does turn me out. I am but a little +girl, and food and clothing are cheap enough in the country, and any of +our neighbors will take me in just for the fun I'll make them. La! yes, +that they will, just as gladly as they will let in the sunshine." + +"Oh, child, how little you know of the world. Yes, for a day or two, or +a week or two, scarcely longer. And even if you could find a home, who +would give shelter to your poor, sick mother for the rest of her life?" + +"Mother! uncle would never deny you shelter upon my account!" exclaimed +Jacquelina, growing very pale. + +"Indeed he will, my child; he has; he came in here last night and warned +me to pack up and leave the house." + +"He will not dare--even he, so to outrage humanity and public opinion +and everything he ought to respect." + +"My child, he will. He has set his heart upon making Nace Grimshaw his +successor at Luckenough, that if you disappoint him in this darling +purpose, there will be no limit to his rage and his revenge. And he will +not only send us from his roof, but he will seek to justify himself and +further ruin us by blackening our names. Your wildness and eccentricity +will be turned against us and so distorted and misrepresented as to ruin +us forever." + +"Mother! mother! he is not so wicked as that." + +"He is furious in his temper and violent in his impulses--he will do all +that under the influence of disappointment and passion, however he may +afterwards repent his injustice. You must not disappoint him, +Jacquelina." + +"I disappoint him? Why, Mimmy, Luckenough does not belong to me. And if +he wants Grim to be his successor, why, as I have heard aunty ask him, +does he not make him his heir?" + +"There are reasons, I suspect, my dear, why he cannot do so. I think he +holds the property by such a tenure, that he cannot alienate it from the +family. And the only manner in which he can bestow it upon Dr. Grimshaw, +will be through his wife, if the doctor should marry some relative." + +"That is it, hey? Well! I will not be made a sumpter-mule to carry this +rich gift over to Dr. Grimshaw--even if there is no other way of +conveyance. Mother! what is the reason the professor is such a favorite +with uncle?" + +"My dear, I don't know, but I have often had my suspicions." + +"Of what, Mimmy?" + +"Of a very near, though unacknowledged relationship; don't question me +any further upon that particular point, my dear, for I really know +nothing whatever about it. Oh, dear." And the invalid groaned and turned +over. + +"Mother, you are very weak; mother, please to take some tea; let me go +get you some hot." + +"Tell me, Jacquelina; will you do as the old man wishes you?" + +"I will tell you after you take some refreshments," said Jacquelina. + +"Well! go bring me some." + +The girl went and brought more hot tea and toast, and waited until her +mother had drunk the former and partaken of a morsel of the latter. +When, in answer to the eager, inquiring look, she said: + +"Mother, if I alone were concerned, I would leave this house this +moment, though I should never have another roof over my head. But for +your sake, mother, I will still fight the battle. I will try to turn +uncle from his purpose. I will try to awaken Grim's generosity, if he +has any, and get him to withdraw his suit. I will get aunty to use her +influence with both of them, and see what can be done. But as for +marrying Dr. Grimshaw, mother--I know what I am saying--I would rather +die!" + +"And see me die, my child?" + +"Oh, mother! it will not be so bad as that." + +"Jacquelina, it will. Do you know what is the meaning of these afternoon +fevers and night sweats and this cough?" + +"I know it means that you are very much out of health, Mimmy, but I hope +you will be well in the spring." + +"Jacquelina, it means death." + +"Oh, no! No, no! No, no! Not so! There's Miss Nancy Skamp has had a +cough every winter ever since I knew her, and she's not dead nor likely +to die, and you will be well in the spring," said the girl, changing +color; and faltering in spite of herself. + +"I shall never see another spring, my child--" + +"Oh, mother! don't! don't say so. You--" + +"Hear me out, my dear; I shall never live to see another spring unless I +can have a quiet life with peace of mind. These symptoms, my child, mean +death, sooner or later. My life may be protracted for many years, if I +can live in peace and comfort; but if I must suffer privation, want and +anxiety, I cannot survive many months, Jacquelina." + +The poor girl was deadly pale; she started up and walked the floor in a +distracted manner, crying: + +"What shall I do! Oh! what shall I do?" + +"It is very plain what you shall do, my child. You must marry Dr. +Grimshaw. Come, my dear, be reasonable. If I did not think it best for +your happiness and prosperity, I would not urge it." + +"Mimmy, don't talk any longer, dear!" Jacquelina interrupted. "There's a +bright spot on your cheek now, and your fever will rise again, even this +morning. I will see what can be done to bring everybody to reason! I +will not believe but that if I remain firm and faithful to my heart's +integrity there will be some way of escape made between these two +alternatives." + +But could Sans Souci do this? Had the frolicsome fairy sufficient +integral strength and self-balance to resist the powerful influences +gathering around her? + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +A GRIM MARRIAGE. + + +As the decisive day approached, Jacquelina certainly acted like one +distraught--now in wild defiance, now in paleness and tears, and anon in +fitful mirth, or taunting threats. She rapidly lost flesh and color, and +in hysterical laughter accounted for it by saying that she believed in +her soul Grim was a spiritual vampire, who preyed upon her life! She +avoided him as much as she could. And if sometimes, when she was about +to escape from him, he would seize her wrist and detain her, she would +suddenly lose her breath and turn so pale that in the fear of her +fainting, he would release her. So he got no opportunity to press his +claims. + +One morning, however--it was about a week before Christmas--she +voluntarily sought his presence. She entered the parlor where he sat +alone. Excitement had flushed her cheeks with a vivid crimson and +lighted her eyes with sparkling fire--she did not know that her beauty +was enhanced a thousand fold--she did not know that never in her life +had her presence kindled such a flame in the heart of her lover as it +did at that moment. And if he restrained himself from going to meet her, +it was the dread lest she should fade away from him as he had seen her +do so often. But she advanced and stood before him. + +"Dr. Grimshaw!" she said, "I have come to make a last appeal to you! I +have come to beg, to supplicate you, for my sake, for honor, for truth +and for mercy's sake, yes! for heaven's sake, to withdraw your +pretensions to my poor hand. For, sir, I do not and cannot like you! I +do not say but that you are far too good and wise, and every way too +worthy for such a girl as I am--and that you do me the very greatest +honor by your preference, but still no one can account for tastes--and, +sir, I cannot like you--pray, pardon me! indeed, I cannot help it." + +Although her words were so humble, her color was still heightened, and +her eyes had a threatening, defiant sparkle in them, so contradictory, +so piquant and fascinating in contrast with the little, fragile, +graceful, helpless form, that his head was almost turned. It was with +difficulty he could keep from snatching the fluttering, half-defiant, +half-frightened, bird-like creature to his bosom. But he contented +himself with saying: + +"My fairy! we are commanded to love those that hate us; and should you +hate me more than ever, I should only continue to love you!" + +"Love me at a distance, then! and the greater the distance, the more +grateful I shall be!" + +He could no longer quite restrain himself. He seized her hand and drew +her towards him, exclaiming in an eager, breathless, half-whisper: + +"No! closer and closer shall my love draw us, beautiful one! until it +compasses your hate and unites us forever!" + +With a half-suppressed cry she wrung her hand from his grasp and +answered, wildly: + +"I sought your presence to entreat you--and to warn you! I have +supplicated you, and you have turned a deaf ear to my prayer! Now I warn +you! and disregard my warning, if you dare! despise it at your peril! I +am going out of my wits, I think! I warn you that I may consent to +become your wife! I have no persevering resistance in my nature. I +cannot hold out forever against those I love. But I warn you, that if +ever I consent, it will be under the undue influence of others!" + +"Put your consent upon any ground you please, you delightful, you +enchanting little creature. We will spare your blushes, charming as they +are!" he exclaimed, surprised out of self-control and seizing both her +hands. + +Angrily she snatched them from him. + +"What have I said? Oh! what have I said? I believe I am going crazy! I +tell you, Dr. Grimshaw, that if I ever yield, it will be only to the +overwhelming force brought to bear upon me; and even then it will be +only during a temporary fit of insanity! And I warn you--I warn you not +to dare to take me at my word!" + +"Will I not? You bewitching little sprite! do you do this to make me +love you ten thousand times more than I do?" + +Passionately she broke forth in reply: + +"You do not believe me! You do not see that I am in terrible earnest! I +tell you, Dr. Grimshaw, that were I induced to consent to be your wife, +you had better not take advantage of such a consent! It would be the +most fatal day's work you ever did for yourself in this world! You think +I'm only a spoiled, petulant child! You do not know me! I do not know +myself! I am full of evil! I feel it sensibly, when I am near you! You +develop the worst of me! Should you marry me, the very demon would rise +in my bosom! I should drive you to distraction!" + +"You drive me to distraction now, you intoxicating little witch!" he +exclaimed, laughing and darting towards her. + +She started and escaped his hand, crying: + +"Saints in heaven! What infatuation! What madness! It must be fate! +Avert the fate, man! Avert it! while there is yet time! Go get a +mill-stone and tie it around your neck and cast yourself into the +uttermost depths of the sea before ever you dare to marry me!" Her +cheeks were blazing with color and her eyes with light! He saw only her +transcendant beauty. + +"Why, you little tragi-comic enchantress, you!--what do you mean? Come +to my arms! Come, wild, bright bird! come to my bosom!" he said, +stepping towards her and throwing his arms around her. + +"Vampire!" she exclaimed, struggling to free herself for a moment; and +then as his lips sought hers the color faded from her face and the light +died in her eyes, and he hastily released her and set her in a chair +lest she should swoon in his hated arms. + +"Now, how am I expected to live with such a wife as this girl would make +me? If it were not for the estate I should be tempted to give her up, +and travel to forget her! How shall I overcome her repugnance? Not by +courting her; that's demonstrated. Only by being kind to her, and +letting her alone." Such was the tenor of his thoughts as he stood a +little behind her chair out of her sight. + +But Jacquelina, when she found herself free, soon recovered, and arose +and left the room. + +Until a day or two before Christmas, when, in the evening, she glided in +to her uncle's room and sunk down by his side--so unlike herself; so +like a spirit--that the old sinner impulsively shrank away from her, and +put out his hand to ring for lights. + +"No; don't send for candles, uncle! Such a wretch as I am should tell +her errand in the dark." + +"What do you mean now, minx?" + +"Uncle, in all your voyages around the world did you ever stop at +Constantinople? And did you ever visit a slave mart there?" + +"Yes; of course I have! What then? What the deuce are you dreaming of?" + +"How much would such a girl as myself bring in the slave market of the +Sultan's city?" + +"Are you crazy?" asked the commodore, opening his eyes to their widest +extent. + +"I don't know. If I am, it can make little difference in your plans. But +as there is method in my madness, please to answer my question. How much +would I sell for in Constantinople?" + +"You are mad; that's certain! How do I know--where beauties sell for +from five hundred to many thousand zechins. But you wouldn't sell for +much; you're too small and too thin." + +"Beauty sells by the weight, does it? Well, uncle, I see that you +have been accustomed to the mart, for you know how to cheapen the +merchandise! Save yourself the trouble, uncle! I shall not live long, +and therefore I shall not have the conscience to ask a high price for +myself!" + +"Mad! Mad as a March hare! As sure as shooting she is!" said the +commodore in dismay, staring at her until his great, fat eyes seemed +bursting from their sockets. + +"Not so mad as you think, uncle, either. I have come to make a bargain +with you." + +"What the foul fiend do you mean now? Do you want me to send you to +Constantinople, pray?" + +Jacquelina laughed, something like her old silvery laugh, as she +answered: + +"No, uncle; though if it were not for Mimmy, I really should prefer it +to marrying Grim!" + +"What do you mean, then? Speak!" + +"This, then, uncle: By what I have heard, and what I have seen, and what +I have surmised, I am already as deep in your secrets respecting Grim as +you are yourself." + +"You speak falsely, you little ----! No one knows anything about it but +myself!" exclaimed the commodore, betraying himself through astonishment +and indignation. + +Without heeding the contradiction, except by a sly smile, Jacquelina +went calmly on: + +"And I know that you wish to make me a stalking-horse, to convey the +estate to Grimshaw, only because you cannot give it to him in any other +way but through his wife." + +"What do you mean, you little diabolical ----! It is my own--why can I +not give it to whom I please, I should like to know?" + +"You can give it to any one in the world, uncle, except Dr. Grimshaw, or +to one who bears the same relationship to you that he does; for to such +a one you may not legally bequeath your landed estate, or--" + +"You shocking, impudent little vixen! How dare you talk so?" + +"Hear me out, uncle. I say, knowing such to be the case, I also know my +own importance as a 'stalking-horse,' or sumpter-mule, or something of +the sort, to bear upon my own shoulders the burden of this estate, which +you wish to give by me to Dr. Grimshaw. Therefore, I shall not give +myself away for nothing. I intend to sell myself for a price! Nothing on +earth would induce me to consent to marry Dr. Grimshaw, were it not to +secure peace and comfort to my mother's latter days. Your threat of +turning me out of doors would not compel me into such a marriage, for +well I know that you would not venture to put that threat into +execution. But I cannot bear to see my poor mother suffer so much as she +does while here, dependent upon your uncertain protection. You terrify +and distress her beyond her powers of endurance. You make the bread of +dependence very, very bitter to her, indeed! And well I know that she +will certainly die if she remains subjected to your powers of +tormenting. I speak plainly to you, uncle, having nothing to conceal; +to proceed, I assure you I will not meet your views in marrying Dr. +Grimshaw, unless it be to purchase for my poor mother a deliverance from +bondage, and an independence for life. Therefore, I demand that you +shall buy this place, 'Locust Hill,' which I hear can be bought for five +thousand dollars, and settle it upon my mother; in return for which I +will bestow my hand in marriage upon Dr. Grimshaw. And, mind, I do not +promise with it either love, or esteem, or service--only my hand in +civil marriage, and the estate it has the power of carrying with it! And +the documents that shall make my mother independent of the world must be +drawn up or examined by a lawyer that she shall appoint, and must be +placed in her hands on the same hour that gives my hand to Dr. Grimshaw. +Do you understand? Now, uncle, that is my ultimatum! For, please the +heavens above us! come what may! do what you will! turn me and my mother +out of doors, to freeze and starve--I will die, and see her die, before +I will sell my hand for a less price than will make her independent and +at ease for life! For, look you, I would rather see her dead, than leave +her in your power! Think of this, uncle! There is time enough to-morrow +and next day to make all the arrangements; only be sure I am in earnest! +Look in my face! Am I not in earnest?" + +"I think you are, you little wretch! I could shake the life out of you!" + +"That would be easy, uncle! There is not much to shake out. Only, in +that case, you would have no stalking-horse to take the estate over to +Dr. Grimshaw." And so saying, Jacquelina arose to leave the room. + +"Come back here--you little vixen, you!" + +Sans Souci returned. + +"It's well to 'strike while the iron's hot,' and to bind you while +you're willing to be bound, for you are an uncertain little villain. +Though I don't believe you'd break a solemn pledge once given--hey?" + +"No, sir!" + +"Pledge me your word of honor, now, that if I buy this little farm of +Locust Hill, and settle it upon your mother, you will marry Dr. Grimshaw +on this coming Christmas Eve?" + +"I pledge you my word of honor that I will" + +"Without mental reservation?" + +"Without mental reservation!" + +"Stop! it is safer to seal such a pledge! Climb up on the stand, and +hand me that Bible down off the top shelf. Brush the cobwebs off it, and +don't let the spiders come with it." + +Jacquelina did as she was bid, with a half indifferent, half disdainful +air. + +"There! Now lay your hand upon this book, and swear by the Holy +Evangelists of Almighty God that you will do as you have pledged +yourself to do." + +"I swear," said Jacquelina. + +"Very well! Now, confound you! you may put the book back again, and go +about your business." + +Sans Souci very willingly complied. And then, as she left the room and +closed the door after her, her quick ear caught the sound of the +commodore's voice, chuckling: + +"So! I've trapped you! Ten minutes more, and it would have been +impossible." + +Full of wonder as to what his words might mean, doubting also whether +she had heard them aright, Jacquelina was hastening on toward her +mother's room, when she met her Aunt Henrietta hurrying toward her, and +speaking impetuously. + +"Oh, my little Lapwing! where have you been? I have been looking for you +all over the house! Good news, dear Lapwing! Good news! Deliverance is +at hand for you! Who do you think has come?" + +"Who? Who?" questioned Sans Souci, eagerly. + +"Cloudy!" + +"Lost! lost!" cried the wretched girl; and, with a wild shriek that rang +through all the house, she threw up her arms and fell forward to the +ground. + +The marriage was appointed to take place Christmas Day. Jacquelina +suffered her mother to dress her in bridal array. Dr. Grimshaw was +waiting for her in the hall. + +As soon as she reached the foot of the stairs, he took her hand; and, +pressing it, whispered: + +"Sweet girl, forgive me this persistence!" + +"May God never forgive me if I do!" she fiercely exclaimed, transfixing +him with a flashing glance. + +Never lover uttered a deeper sigh than that which Dr. Grimshaw gave +forth as he led his unwilling bride to the carriage. The groomsman +followed with the bridesmaid. The commodore and Mary L'Oiseau +accompanied the party in a gig. Henrietta, true to her word, refused to +be present at the marriage. + +When the wedding party arrived at the chapel, all the pews were filled +to suffocation with the crowd that the rumor of the approaching marriage +had drawn together. And the bridal party were the cynosure of many +hundred eyes as they passed up the aisle and stood before the altar. + +The ceremony proceeded. But not one response, either verbally or +mentally, did Jacquelina make. The priest passed over her silence, +naturally ascribing it to bashfulness, and honestly taking her consent +for granted. + +The rites were finished, the benediction bestowed, and friends and +acquaintances left their pews, and crowded around with congratulations. + +Among the foremost was Thurston Willcoxen, whose suave and stately +courtesy, and graceful bearing, and gracious words, so pleased Commodore +Waugh that, knowing Jacquelina to be married and safe, he invited and +urged the accomplished young "Parisian," as he was often called, to +return and partake of the Christmas wedding breakfast. + +"Nace, do you take your bride home in the gig, as you will want her +company to yourself, and we will go in the carriage," said the +commodore, good-naturedly. In fact, the old man had not been in such +a fine humor for many a day. + +Dr. Grimshaw, "nothing loth," led his fair bride to the gig, handed her +in, and took the place beside her. + +"Now, then, fairest and dearest, you are at last, indeed, my own!" he +said, seeking her eyes. + +"Thank Heaven, I am not! I never foreswore myself. I never opened my +lips, or formed a vow in my head. I never promised you anything," said +Jacquelina, turning away; and the rest of the journey was made in +silence. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +DELL-DELIGHT + + +It should have been an enchanting home to which Thurston Willcoxen +returned after his long sojourn in Europe. The place, Dell-Delight, +might once have deserved its euphonious and charming name; now, however, +its delightfulness was as purely traditional as the royal lineage +claimed by its owners. + +Mr. Willcoxen was one of those whose god is Mammon. He had inherited +money, married a half-sister of Commodore Waugh for money, and made +money. Year by year, from youth to age, adding thousands to thousands, +acres to acres; until now, at the age of ninety-five, he was the master +of incalculable riches. + +He had outlived his wife and their three children; and his nearest of +kin were Thurston Willcoxen, the son of his eldest son; Cloudesley +Mornington, the son of his eldest daughter, and poor Fanny Laurie, the +child of his youngest daughter. + +Thurston and Fanny had each inherited a small property independent of +their grandfather. + +But poor Cloudy had been left an orphan in the worst sense of the +word--destitute and dependent on the "cold charity of the world," +or the colder and bitterer alms of unloving rich relatives. + +The oldest and nearest kinsman and natural guardian of the boys--old Mr. +Willcoxen--had, of course, received them into his house to be reared and +educated; but no education would he afford the lads beyond that +dispensed by the village schoolmaster, who could very well teach them +that ten dimes make a dollar, and ten dollars an eagle; and who could +also instruct them how to write their own names--for instance, at the +foot of receipts of so many hundred dollars for so many hogsheads of +tobacco; or to read other men's signatures, to wit, upon the backs of +notes of hand, payable at such a time, or on such a day. This was just +knowledge enough, he said, to teach the boys how to make and save money, +yet not enough to tempt them to spend it foolishly in travel, libraries, +pictures, statues, arbors, fountains, and such costly trumpery and +expensive tomfoolery. + +To Thurston, who was his favorite, probably because he bore the family +name and inherited some independent property, Mr. Willcoxen would, +however, have afforded a more liberal and gentlemanly education, could +he have done so and at the same time decently withheld from going to +some expense in giving his penniless grandson, Cloudy, the same +privilege. As it was, he sought to veil his parsimony by conservative +principle. + +It was a great humiliation to the boys to see that, while all the youths +of their own rank and neighborhood were entered pensioners at the local +college, they two alone were taken from the little day-school to be put +to agricultural labor--a thing unprecedented in that locality at that +time. + +When this matter was brought to the knowledge of Commodore Waugh, as he +strode up and down his hall, the indignant old sailor thumped his heavy +stick upon the ground, thrust forward his great head, and swore +furiously by the whole Pandemonial Hierarchy that his grandnephews +should not be brought up like clodhoppers. + +And straightway he ordered his carriage, threw himself into it, and rode +over to Charlotte Hall, where he entered the name of his two young +relatives as pensioners at his own proper cost. + +This done, he ordered his coachman to take the road to Dell-Delight, +where he had an interview with Mr. Willcoxen. + +And as he met little opposition from the old man, who seemed to think +that it was no more than fair that the boys' uncle should share the +expense of educating them, he sought out the youths, whom he found in +the field, and bade them leave the plough, and go and prepare themselves +to go to C---- and get educated, as befitted the grandnephews of a +gentleman! + +The lads were at that time far too simple-minded and too clannish to +feel their pride piqued at this offer, or to take offense at the rude +manner in which it was made. Commodore Waugh was their grand-uncle, and +therefore had a right to educate them, and to be short with them, too, +if he pleased. That was the way in which they both looked at the matter. +And very much delighted and very grateful they were for the opening for +education thus made for them. + +And very zealously they entered upon their academical studies. They +boarded at the college and roomed together. But their vacations were +spent apart, Thurston spending his at Dell-Delight, and Cloudy his at +Luckenough. + +When the academical course was completed, Commodore Waugh, as has been +seen, was at some pains to give Cloudy a fair start in life, and for the +first time condescended to use his influence with "the Department" to +procure a favor in the shape of a midshipman's warrant for Cloudesley +Mornington. + +In the meantime old Mr. Willcoxen was very gradually sinking into the +imbecility natural to his advanced age; and his fascinating grandson was +gaining some ascendancy over his mind. Year by year this influence +increased, though it must be admitted that Thurston's conquest over his +grandfather's whims was as slow as that of the Hollanders in winning the +land from the sea. + +However, the old man--now that Cloudy was provided for and off his +hands--lent a more willing ear to the petition of Thurston to be +permitted to continue his education by a course of studies at a German +university, and afterward by a tour of the Eastern continent. + +Thurston's absence was prolonged much beyond the original intention, as +has been related; he spent two years at the university, two in travel, +and nearly two in the city of Paris. + +His grandfather would certainly never have consented to this prolonged +absence, had it been at his own cost; but the expenses were met by +advances upon Thurston's own small patrimony. + +And, in fact, when at last the young gentleman returned to his native +country, it was because his property was nearly exhausted, and his +remittances were small, few and far between, grudgingly sent, and about +to be stopped. Therefore nearly penniless, but perfectly free from the +smallest debt or degradation--elegant, accomplished, fastidious, yet +truthful, generous, gallant and aspiring--Thurston left the elegant +salons and exciting scenes of Paris for the comparative dullness and +dreariness of his native place and his grandfather's house. + +He had reached his legal majority just before leaving Paris, and soon +after his arrival at home he was appointed trustee of poor Fanny +Laurie's property. + +His first act was to visit Fanny in the distant asylum in which she was +confined, and ascertain her real condition. And having heard her +pronounced incurable, though perfectly harmless, he determined to +release her from the confinement of the asylum, and to bring her home +to her native county, where, among the woods and hills and streams, she +might find at once that freedom, space and solitude so desired by the +heart-sick or brain-sick, and where also his own care might avail her. + +Old Mr. Willcoxen, far from offering opposition to this plan, actually +favored it--though from the less worthy motive of economy. What was the +use of spending money to pay her board, and nursing, and medical +attendance, in the asylum, when she might be boarded and nursed and +doctored so much cheaper at home? For the old man confidently looked +forward to the time when the poor, fragile, failing creature would sink +into the grave, and Thurston would become her heir. And he calculated +that every dollar they could save of her income would be so much added +to the inheritance when Thurston should come into it. + +Very soon after Thurston's return home his grandfather gave him to +understand the conditions upon which he intended to make him his heir. +They were two in number, viz., first, that Thurston should never leave +him again while he lived; and, secondly, that he should never marry +without his consent. "For I don't wish to be left alone in my old age, +my dear boy; nor do I wish to see you throw yourself away upon any girl +whose fortune is less than the estate I intend to bequeath entire to +yourself." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +MARIAN, THE INSPIRER. + + +It was not fortunate for old Mr. Willcoxen's plans that his grandson +should have met Marian Mayfield. For, on the morning of Thurston's first +meeting with the charming girl, when he turned his horse's head from the +arched gateway of Old Field Cottage and galloped off, "a haunting shape +and image gay" attended him. + +It was that of beautiful Marian, with her blooming face and sunny hair, +and rounded roseate neck and bosom and arms, all softly, delicately +flushed with the pure glow of rich, luxuriant vitality, as she stood in +the sunlight, under the arch of azure morning-glories, with her graceful +arms raised in the act of binding up the vines. + +At first this "image fair" was almost unthought of; he was scarcely +conscious of the haunting presence, or the life and light it gradually +diffused through his whole being. And when the revelation dawned upon +his intellect, he smiled to himself and wondered if, for the first time, +he was falling in love; and then he grew grave, and tried to banish the +dangerous thought. But when, day after day, amid all the business and +the pleasures of his life, the "shape" still pursued him, instead of +getting angry with it or growing weary of it, he opened his heart and +took it in, and made it at home, and set it upon a throne, where it +reigned supreme, diffusing delight over all his nature. But soon, too +soon, this bosom's sovereign became the despot, and stung, goaded and +urged him to see again this living, breathing, glowing, most beautiful +original. To seek her? For what? He did not even try to answer the +question. + +Thus passed one week. + +And then, had he been disposed to forget the beautiful girl, he could +not have done so. For everywhere where the business of his grandfather +took him--around among the neighboring planters, to the villages of +B---- or of C----, everywhere he heard of Marian, and frequently he +saw her, though at a distance, or under circumstances that made it +impossible for him, without rudeness, to address her. He both saw and +heard of her in scenes and society where he could hardly have expected +to find a young girl of her insignificant position. + +Marian was a regular attendant of the Protestant church at Benedict, +where, before the morning service, she taught in the Sunday-school, and +before the afternoon service she received a class of colored children. + +And Thurston, who had been a very careless and desultory attendant, +sometimes upon the Catholic chapel, sometimes upon the Protestant +church, now became a very regular frequenter of the latter place of +worship; the object of his worship being not the Creator, but the +creature, whom, if he missed from her accustomed seat, the singing, and +praying, and preaching for him lost all of its meaning, power and +spirituality. In the churchyard he sometimes tried to catch her eye and +bow to her; but he was always completely baffled in his aspirations +after a nearer communion. She was always attended from the church and +assisted into her saddle by Judge Provost, Colonel Thornton, or some +other "potent, grave and reverend seignors," who "hedged her about with +a divinity" that it was impossible, without rudeness and intrusion, to +break through. The more he was baffled and perplexed, the more eager +became his desire to cultivate her acquaintance. Had his course been +clear to woo her for his wife, it would have been easy to ask permission +of Edith to visit her at her house; but such was not the case, and +Thurston, tampering with his own integrity of purpose, rather wished +that this much coveted acquaintance should be incidental, and their +interviews seem accidental, so that he should not commit himself, or in +any way lead her to form expectations which he had no surety of being +able to meet. How long this cool and cautious foresight might avail him, +if once he were brought in close companionship with Marian, remains to +be seen. It happened one Sunday afternoon in October that he saw Marian +take leave of her venerable escort, Colonel Thornton, at the churchyard +gate, and gayly and alone turn into the forest road that led to her own +home. He immediately threw himself into his saddle and followed her, +with the assumed air of an indifferent gentleman pursuing his own path. +He overtook her near one of those gates that frequently intersect the +road. Bowing, he passed her, opened the gate, and held it open for her +passage. Marian smiled, and nodded with a pleasant: + +"Good-afternoon, Mr. Willcoxen," as she went through, + +Thurston closed the gate and rode on after her. + +"This is glorious weather, Miss Mayfield." + +"Glorious, indeed!" replied Marian. + +"And the country, too, is perfectly beautiful at this season. I never +could sympathize with the poets who call autumnal days 'the melancholy +days--the saddest of the year.'" + +"Nor I," said Marian; "for to me, autumn, with its refulgent skies, and +gorgeous woods, and rich harvest, and its prospect of Christmas cheer +and wintry repose has ever seemed a gay and festive season. The year's +great work is done, the harvest is gathered, enjoyment is present, and +repose at hand." + +"In the world of society," said Thurston, "it is in the evening, after +the labor or the business of the day is over, that the gayest scenes of +festivity occur, just preceding the repose of sleep. So I receive your +thought of the autumn--the evening of the year, preceding the rest of +winter. Nature's year's work is done; she puts on her most gorgeous +robes, and holds a festival before she sinks to her winter's sleep." + +Marian smiled brightly upon him. + +"Yes; my meaning, I believe, only more pointedly expressed." + +That smile--that smile! It lightened through all his nature with +electric, life-giving, spirit-realizing power, elevating and inspiring +his whole being. His face, too, was radiant with life as he answered the +maiden's smile. + +But something in his eyes caused Marian's glances to fall, and the rosy +clouds to roll up over her cheeks and brow. + +Then Thurston governed his countenance--let no ardent or admiring +glance escape, and when he spoke again his manner and words were more +deferential. + +"We spoke of the world of nature, Miss Mayfield; but how is it with the +world of man? To many--nay, to most of the human race--autumn is the +herald of a season not of festivity and repose, but of continued labor, +and increased want and privation and suffering." + +"That is because society is not in harmony with nature; man has wandered +as far from nature as from God," said Marian. + +"And as much needs a Saviour to lead him back to the one as to the +other," replied Thurston. + +"You know that--you feel it?" asked Marian, turning upon him one of her +soul-thrilling glances. + +Thurston trembled with delicious pleasure through all his frame; but, +guarding his eyes, lest again they should frighten off her inspiring +glances, he answered, fervently: + +"I know and feel it most profoundly." + +And Thurston thought he spoke the very truth, though in sober fact he +had never thought or felt anything about the subject until now that +Marian, his inspirer, poured her life-giving spirit into his soul. + +She spoke again, earnestly, ardently. + +"You know and feel it most profoundly! That deep knowledge and that deep +feeling is the chrism oil that has anointed you a messenger and a +laborer in the cause of humanity. 'Called and chosen,' be thou also +faithful. There are many inspired, many anointed; but few are faithful!" + +"Thou, then, art the high priestess that hast poured the consecrated oil +on my head. I will be faithful!" + +He spoke with such sudden enthusiasm, such abandon, that it had the +effect of bringing Marian back to the moderation and _retenue_ of her +usual manner. He saw it in the changed expression of her countenance; +and what light or shade of feeling passed over that beautiful face +unmarked of him? When he spoke again it was composedly. + +"You speak as the preachers and teachers preach and teach--in general +terms. Be explicit; what would you have me to do, Miss Mayfield? Only +indicate my work, and tell me how to set about the accomplishment of it, +and never knight served liege lady as I will serve you!" + +Marian smiled. + +"How? Oh, you must make yourself a position from which to influence +people! I do not know that I can advise you how; but you will find a +way, as--were I a man, I should!" + +"Being a woman, you have done wonders!" + +"For a woman," said Marian, with a glance full of archness and +merriment. + +"No, no; for any one, man or woman! But your method, Marian? I beg your +pardon, Miss Mayfield," he added, with a blush of ingenuous +embarrassment. + +"Nay, now," said the frank girl; "do call me Marian if that name springs +more readily from your lips than the other. Almost all persons call me +Marian, and I like it." + +A rush of pleasure thrilled all through his veins; he gave her words a +meaning and a value for himself that they did not certainly possess; he +forgot that the grace extended to him was extended to all--nay, that she +had even said as much in the very words that gave it. He answered: + +"And if I do, fairest Marian, shall I, too, hear my own Christian name +in music from your lips?" + +"Oh, I do not know," said the beautiful girl, laughing and blushing. "If +it ever comes naturally, perhaps; certainly not now. Why, the venerable +Colonel Thornton calls me 'Marian,' but it never comes to me to call him +'John!'" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +LOVE. + + +This was but one of many such meetings, Thurston growing more and more +infatuated each time, while Marian scarcely tried to hide the pleasure +which his society gave her. + +One day when riding through the forest he met Marian returning from +the village and on foot. She was radiant with health and beauty, and +blushing and smiling with joy as she met him. A little basket hung upon +her arm. To dismount and join her, to take the basket from her arm, and +to look in her face and declare in broken exclamations his delight at +seeing her, were the words and the work of an instant. + +"And whither away this morning, fairest Marian?" he inquired, when +unrebuked he had pressed her hand to his lips, and drawn it through his +arm. + +"I have been to the village, and am now going home," said the maiden. + +"It is a long walk through the forest." + +"Yes; but my pony has cast a shoe and lamed himself slightly, and I fear +I shall have to dispense with his services for a few days." + +"Thank God!" fervently ejaculated Thurston to himself. + +"But it is beautiful weather, and I enjoy walking," said the young girl. + +"Marian--dearest Marian, will you let me attend you home? The walk is +lonely, and it may not be quite safe for a fair woman to take it +unattended." + +"I have no fear of interruption," said Marian. + +"Yet you will not refuse to let me attend you? Do not, Marian!" he +pleaded, earnestly, fervently, clasping her hand, and pouring the whole +strength of his soul in the gaze that he fastened on her face. + +"I thank you; but you were riding the other way." + +"It was merely an idle saunter, to help to kill the time between this +and Sunday, dearest girl. Now, rest you, my queen! my queen! upon this +mossy rock, as on a throne, while I ride forward and leave my horse. I +will be with you again in fifteen minutes; in the meantime here is +something for you to look at," he said, drawing from his pocket an +elegant little volume bound in purple and gold, and laying it in her +lap. He then smiled, sprang into his saddle, bowed, and galloped away, +leaving Marian to examine her book. It was a London copy of Spenser's +Fairy Queen, superbly illustrated, one of the rarest books to be found +in the whole country at that day. On the fly-leaf the name of Marian was +written, in the hand of Thurston. + +Some minutes passed in the pleasing examination of the volume; and +Marian was still turning the leaves with unmixed pleasure--pleasure in +the gift, and pleasure in the giver--when Thurston, even before the +appointed time, suddenly rejoined her. + +"So absorbed in Spenser that you did not even hear or see me!" said the +young man, half reproachfully. + +"I was indeed far gone in Fairy Land! Oh, I thank you so much for your +beautiful present! It is indeed a treasure. I shall prize it greatly," +said Marian, in unfeigned delight. + +"Do you know that Fairy Land is not obsolete, dearest Marian?" he said, +fixing his eyes upon her charming face with an ardor and earnestness +that caused hers to sink. + +"Come," she said, in a low voice, and rising from the rock; "let us +leave this place and go forward." + +They walked on, speaking softly of many things--of the vision of +Spenser, of the beautiful autumnal weather, of anything except the one +interest that now occupied both hearts. The fear of startling her +bashful trust, and banishing those bewitching glances that sometimes +lightened on his face, made him cautious, and restrained his eagerness; +while excessive consciousness kept her cheeks dyed with blushes, and her +nerves vibrating sweet, wild music, like the strings of some aeolian +harp when swept by the swift south wind. + +He determined, during the walk, to plead his love, and ascertain his +fate. Ay! but how approach the subject when, at every ardent glance or +tone, her face, her heart, shrank and closed up, like the leaves of the +sensitive plant. + +So they rambled on, discovering new beauties in nature; now it would be +merely an oak leaf of rare richness of coloring; now some tiny insect +with finished elegance of form; now a piece of the dried branch of a +tree that Thurston picked up, to bid her note the delicately blending +shades in its gray hue, or the curves and lines of grace in its twisted +form--the beauty of its slow return to dust; and now perhaps it would +be the mingled colors in the heaps of dried leaves drifted at the foot +of some great tree. + +And then from the minute loveliness of nature's sweet, small things, +their eyes would wander to the great glory of the autumnal sky, or the +variegated array of the gorgeous forest. + +Thurston knew a beautiful glade, not far distant, to the left of their +path, from which there was a very fine view that he wished to show his +companion. And he led Marian thither by a little moss-bordered, +descending path. + +It was a natural opening in the forest, from which, down a still, +descending vista, between the trees, could be seen the distant bay, and +the open country near it, all glowing under a refulgent sky, and hazy +with the golden mist of Indian Summer. Before them the upper branches of +the nearest trees formed a natural arch above the picture. + +Marian stood and gazed upon the wondrous beauty of the scene with soft, +steady eyes, with lips breathlessly severed, in perfect silence and +growing emotion. + +"This pleases you," said Thurston. + +She nodded, without removing her gaze. + +"You find it charming?" + +She nodded again, and smiled. + +"You were never here before?" + +"Never." + +"Marian, you are a lover of nature." + +"I do not know," she said, softly, "whether it be love, or worship, or +both; but some pictures spell-bind me. I stand amidst a scene like this, +enchanted, until my soul has absorbed as much of its beauty and glory +and wisdom as it can absorb. As the Ancient Mariner held with his +'glittering eye' the wedding guest, so such a picture holds me +enthralled until I have heard the story and learned the lesson it has to +tell and teach me. Did you ever, in the midst of nature's liberal +ministrations, feel your spirit absorbing, assimilating, growing? Or is +it only a fantastic action of mine that beauty is the food of soul?" + +She turned her eloquent eyes full upon him. + +He forgot his prudence, forgot her claims, forgot everything, and caught +and strained her to his bosom, pressing passionate kisses upon her lips, +and the next instant he was kneeling at her feet, imploring her to +forgive him--to hear him. + +Marian stood with her face bowed and hidden in her hands; but above the +tips of her fingers, her forehead, crimsoned, might be seen. One half +her auburn hair had escaped and rippled down in glittering disorder. And +so she stood a few moments. But soon, removing her hands and turning +away, she said, in a troubled tone: + +"Rise. Never kneel to any creature; that homage is due the Creator +alone. Oh, rise!" + +"First pardon me--first hear me, beloved girl!" + +"Oh, rise--rise, I beg you! I cannot bear to see a man on his knee, +except in prayer to God!" she said, walking away. + +He sprang up and followed her, took her hand, and, with gentle +compulsion, made her sit down upon a bank; and then he sank beside her, +exclaiming eagerly, vehemently, yet in a low, half-smothered tone: + +"Marian, I love you! I never spoke these words to woman before, for I +never loved before. Marian, the first moment that I saw you I loved you, +without knowing what new life it was that had kindled in my nature. I +have loved you more and more every day! I love you more than words can +tell or heart conceive! I only live in your presence! Marian! not one +word or glance for me? Oh, speak! Turn your dear face toward me," he +said, putting his hand gently around her head. "Speak to me, Marian, for +I adore--I worship you!" + +"I do not deserve to be loved in that way. I do not wish it, for it is +wrong--idolatrous," she said, in a low, trembling voice. + +"Oh! what do you mean? Is the love upon which my life seems to hang so +offensive to you? Say, Marian! Oh! you are compassionate by nature; how +can you keep me in the torture of suspense?" + +"I do not keep you so." + +"You will let me love you?" + +Marian slipped her hand in his; that was her reply. + +"You will love me?" + +For all answer she gently pressed his fingers. He pressed her hand to +his heart, to his lips, covering it with kisses. + +"Yet, oh! speak to me, dearest; let me hear from your lips that you love +me--a little--but better than I deserve. Will you? Say, Marian! Speak, +dearest girl!" + +"I cannot tell you now," she said, in a low, thrilling tone. "I am +disturbed; I wish to grow quiet; and I must go home. Let us return." + +One more passionate kiss of the hand he clasped, and then he helped her +to her feet, drew her arm within his own, and led her up the +moss-covered rocks that formed the natural steps of the ascent that led +to the homeward path. + +They were now near the verge of the forest, which, when they reached, +Marian drew her arm from his, and, extending her hand, said: + +"This is the place our roads part." + +"But you will let me attend you home?" + +"No; it would make the return walk too long." + +"That can be no consideration, I beg you will let me go with you, +Marian." + +"No; it would not be convenient to Edith to-day," said Marian, quickly +drawing her hand from his detaining grasp, waving him adieu, and walking +swiftly away across the meadow. + +Thurston gazed after her, strongly tempted to follow her; yet withal +admitting that it was best that she had declined his escort to the +cottage, and thanking Heaven that the opportunity would again be +afforded to take an "incidental" stroll with her, as she should walk to +church on Sunday morning; and so, forming the resolution to haunt the +forest-path from seven o'clock that next Sabbath morning until he should +see her, Thurston hurried home. + +And how was it with Marian? She hastened to the cottage, laid off her +bonnet and shawl, and set herself at work as diligently as usual; but a +higher bloom glowed on her cheek, a softer, brighter light beamed in her +eye, a warmer, sweeter smile hovered around her lips, a deeper, richer +tone thrilled in her voice. + +On Sunday morning the lovers "chanced" to meet again--for so Thurston +would still have had it appear as he permitted Marian to overtake him in +the forest on her way to the Sunday-school. + +She was blooming and beautiful as the morning itself as she approached. +He turned with a radiant smile to greet her. + +"Welcome! thrice welcome, dearest one! Your coming is more joyous than +that of day. Welcome, my own, dear Marian! May I now call you mine? Have +I read that angel-smile aright? Is it the blessed herald of a happy +answer to my prayer?" he whispered, as he took her hand and passed his +arm around her head and brought it down upon his bosom. "Speak, my +Marian! Speak, my beloved! Are you my own, as I am yours?" + +Her answer was so low-toned that he had to bend his head down close to +her lips to hear her murmur: + +"I love you dearly. But I love you too well to ruin your prospects. You +must not bind yourself to me just yet, dear Thurston," and meekly and +gently she sought to slip from his embrace. + +But he slid his arm around her lightly, bending his head and whispering +eagerly: + +"What mean you, Marian? Your words are incomprehensible." + +"Dear Thurston," she answered, in a tremulous and thrilling voice, "I +have known your grandfather long by report, and I am well aware of his +character and disposition and habits. But only yesterday I chanced to +learn from one who was well informed that old Mr. Willcoxen had sworn to +make you his heir only upon condition of your finding a bride of equal +or superior fortunes. If now you were to engage yourself to me, your +grandfather would disinherit you. I love you too well," she murmured +very low, "to ruin your fortunes. You must not bind yourself to me just +now, Thurston." + +And this loving, frank and generous creature was the woman, he thought, +whose good name he would have periled in a clandestine courtship in +preference to losing his inheritance by an open betrothal. A stab of +compunction pierced his bosom; he felt that he loved her more than ever, +but passion was stronger than affection, stronger than conscience, +stronger than anything in nature, except pride and ambition. He +lightened his clasp about her waist--he bent and whispered: + +"Beloved Marian, is it to bind me only that you hesitate?" + +"Only that," she answered, softly. + +"Now hear me, Marian. I swear before Heaven, and in thy sight--that--as +I have never loved woman before you--that--as I love you only of all +women--I will be faithful to you while I live upon this earth! as your +husband, if you will accept me; as your exclusive lover, whether you +will or not! I hold myself pledged to you as long as we both shall live! +There, Marian! I am bound to you as tight as vows can bind! I am pledged +to you whether you accept my pledge or not. You cannot even release, for +I am pledged to Heaven as well. There, Marian, you see I am bound, while +you only are free. Come! be generous! You have said that you loved me! +Pledge yourself to me in like manner. We are both young, dear Marian, +and we can wait. Only let me have your promise to be my wife--only let +me have that blessed assurance for the future, and I can endure the +present. Speak, dear Marian." + +"Your grandfather--" + +"He has no grudge against you, personally, sweet girl; he knows nothing, +suspects nothing of my preferences--how should he? No, dearest girl--his +notion that I must have a moneyed bride is the merest whim of dotage; we +must forgive the whims of ninety-five. That great age also augurs for us +a short engagement and a speedy union!" + +"Oh! never let us dream of that! It would be sinful, and draw down upon +us the displeasure of Heaven. Long may the old man yet live to prepare +for a better life." + +"Amen; so be it; God forbid that I should grudge the aged patriarch his +few remaining days upon earth--days, too, upon which his soul's immortal +welfare may depend," said Thurston. "But, dearest girl, it is more +difficult to get a reply from you than from a prime minister. Answer, +now, once for all, sweet girl! since I am forever bound to you; will you +pledge yourself to become my own dear wife?" + +"Yes," whispered Marian, very lowly. + +"And will you," he asked, gathering her form closer to his bosom, "will +you redeem that pledge when I demand it?" + +"Yes," she murmured sweetly, "so that it is not to harm you, or bring +you into trouble or poverty; for that I would not consent to do!" + +"God bless you; you are an angel! Oh! Marian! I find it in my heart to +sigh because I am so unworthy of you!" + +And this was spoken most sincerely. + +"You think too well of me. I fear--I fear for the consequences." + +"Why, dearest Marian?" + +"Oh, I fear that when you know me better you may love me less," she +answered, in a trembling voice. + +"Why should I?" + +"Oh! because your love may have been attracted by ideal qualities, with +which you yourself have invested me; and when your eyes are opened you +may love me less." + +"May my soul forever perish the day that I cease to love you!" said +Thurston, passionately pressing her to his heart, and sealing his +fearful oath upon her pure brow and guileless lips. "And now, beloved! +this compact is sealed! Our fates are united forever! Henceforth nothing +shall dissever us!" + +They were now drawing near the village. + +Marian suddenly stopped. + +"Dear Thurston," she said, "if you are seen waiting upon me to church do +you know what the people will say? They will say that Marian has a new +admirer in Mr. Willcoxen--and that will reach your grandfather's ears, +and give you trouble." + +"Stay! one moment, beautiful Marian! When shall we meet again?" + +"When Heaven wills." + +"And when will that be, fairest?" + +"I do not know; but do not visit me at the cottage, dear Thurston, it +would be indiscreet." + +"Marian! I must see you often. Will you meet me on the beach to-morrow +afternoon?" + +"No," answered Marian, gravely, "in this single instance, I must not +meet you, though my heart pleads like a sick child with me to do it, +Thurston, dear Thurston." + +She raised her eyes to his as she spoke, and giving way to a sudden +impulse, dropped her head upon his shoulder, put her arms around his +neck, and embraced him. And then his better angel rose above the storm +of passion that was surging through his veins, and calmed the tumult, +and spoke through his lips. + +"You are right, Marian--fairest and dearest, you are right. And I not +only love you best of all women, but honor you more than all men. It +shall be as you have said. I will not seek you anywhere. As the mother, +dying of plague, denies herself the parting embrace of her 'unstricken' +child--so, for your sake, will I refrain from the heaven of your +presence." + +"And, dear Thurston," she said, raising her head, "it will not be so +hard to bear, as you now think. We shall see each other every Sunday in +the church, and every Monday in the lecture-room. We shall often be of +the same invited company at neighbors' houses. Remember, also, that +Christmas is coming, with its protracted festivities, when we shall see +each other almost every evening, at some little neighborhood gathering. +And now I must really hurry; oh! how late I am this morning! Good-by, +dearest Thurston!" + +"Good-by, my own Marian." + +Blushingly she received, his parting kiss, and hurried along the little +foot-path leading to the village. + +Thurston had been perfectly sincere in his resolution not to seek a +private interview with Marian; and he kept it faithfully all the week, +with less temptation to break it, because he did not know where to watch +for her. + +But Sunday came again--and Thurston, with a little bit of human +self-deception and _finesse_, avoided the forest path, where he had met +her the preceding Sabbath, and saying to himself that he would not +waylay her, took the river road, refusing to confess even to himself +that he acted upon the calculation that she also would take the same +road, in order to avoid meeting him in the forest. + +His "calculus of probabilities" had not failed him. He had not walked +far upon the forest-shaded banks of the river before he saw Marian +walking before him. He hastened and overtook her. + +At first seeing him her face flushed radiant with surprise and joy. +She seemed to think that nothing short of necromancy could have conjured +him to that spot. She had no reproaches for him, because she had no +suspicion that he had trifled with his promise not to seek her. But she +expressed her astonishment. + +"I did not know you ever came this way," she said. + +"Nor did I ever before, love; but I remembered my pledge, not to follow +or to seek you, and so I avoided the woodland path where we met last +Sunday," said Thurston, persuading himself that he spoke the precise +truth. + +It is not necessary to pursue with them this walk; lovers scarcely thank +us for such intrusions. It is sufficient to say that this was not the +last one. + +Blinded by passion and self-deception, and acting upon the same astute +calculus of probabilities, Thurston often contrived to meet Marian in +places where his presence might be least expected, and most often in +paths that she had taken for the express purpose of keeping out of his +way. + +Thus it fell that many forest walks and seashore strolls were taken, all +through the lovely Indian summer weather. And these seemed so much the +result of pure accident that Marian never dreamed of complaining that +his pledge had been tampered with. + +But Thurston began to urge her consent to a private marriage. + +From a secret engagement to a secret marriage, the transition seemed to +him very easy. + +"And, dearest Marian, we are both of age, both free--we should neither +displease God nor wrong man, by such a step--while it would at the same +time secure our union, and save us from injustice and oppression! do you +not see?" + +Such was his argument, which he pleaded and enforced with all the powers +of passion and eloquence. In vain. Though every interview increased his +power over the maiden--though her affections and her will were both +subjected, the domain of conscience was unconquered. And Marian still +answered: + +"Though a secret marriage would break no law of God or man, nor +positively wrong any human creature, yet it might be the cause of +misunderstanding and suspicion--and perhaps calumny, causing much +distress to those who love and respect me. Therefore it would be +wrong. And I must do no wrong, even for your dear sake." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +CLOUDY. + + +It was Christmas Eve and a fierce snow-storm was raging. + +Old Mr. Willcoxen sat half doubled up in his leather-covered elbow +chair, in the chimney corner of his bedroom, occupied with smoking his +clay pipe, and thinking about his money bags. + +Fanny was in the cold, bleak upper rooms of the house, looking out of +the windows upon the wide desolation of winter, the waste of snow, the +bare forest, the cold, dark waters of the bay--listening to the driving +tempest, and singing, full of glee as she always was when the elements +were in an uproar. + +Thurston was the sole and surly occupant of the sitting-room, where he +had thrown himself at full length upon the sofa, to lie and yawn over +the newspaper, which he vowed was as stale as last year's almanac. + +Suddenly the front door was thrown open, and some one came, followed by +the driving wind and snow, into the hall. + +Thurston threw aside his paper, started up, and went out. + +What was his surprise to see Cloudesley Mornington standing there, with +a face so haggard, with eyes so wild and despairing, that, in alarm, he +exclaimed: + +"Good heaven, Cloudesley. What is the matter? Has anything happened at +home?" + +"Home! home! What home? I have no home upon this earth now, and never +shall have!" exclaimed the poor youth, distractedly. + +"My dear fellow, never speak so despondently. What is it now? a +difficulty with the commodore?" + +"God's judgment light upon him!" cried Cloudy, pushing past and hurrying +up the stairs. + +Thurston could not resume his former composure; something in Cloudy's +face had left a feeling of uneasiness in his mind, and the oftener he +recalled the expression the more troubled he became. + +Until at length he could bear the anxiety no longer, and quietly leaving +his room, he went up-stairs in search of the youth, and paused before +the boy's door. By the clicking, metallic sounds within, he suspected +him to be engaged in loading a pistol; for what purpose! Not an instant +was to be risked in rapping or questioning. + +With one vigorous blow of his heel Thurston burst open the door, and +sprung forward and dashed the fatal weapon from his hand, and then +confronted him, exclaiming: + +"Good God, Cloudy! What does this mean?" + +Cloudy looked at him wildly for a minute, and when Thurston repeated the +question, he answered with a hollow laugh: + +"That I am crazy, I guess! don't you think so?" + +"Cloudy, my dear fellow, we have been like brothers all our lives; now +won't you tell me what has brought you to this pass? What troubles you +so much? Perhaps I can aid you in some way. Come, what is it now?" + +"And you really don't know what it is? Don't you know that there is a +wedding on hand?" + +"A wedding!" + +"Aye, man alive! A wedding! They are going to marry the child Jacquelina +to old Grimshaw." + +"Oh, yes, I know that; but, my dear boy, what of it? Surely you were +never in love with little Jacko?" + +"In love with her! ha! ha! no, not as you understand it! who take it to +be that fantastical passion that may be inspired by the first sight of a +pretty face. No! I am not in love with her, unless I could be in love +with myself. For Lina was my other self. Oh, you who can talk so glibly +of being 'in love,' little know that strength of attachment when two +hearts have grown together from childhood." + +"It is like a brother's and a sister's." + +"Never! brothers and sisters cannot love so. What brother ever loved a +sister as I have loved Lina from our infancy? What brother ever would +have done and suffered as much for his sister as I have for Lina?" + +"You! done and suffered for Lina!" said Thurston, beginning to think he +was really mad. + +"Yes! how many faults as a boy I have shouldered for her. How many +floggings I have taken. How many shames I have borne for her, which she +never knew. Oh! how I have spent my night watches at sea, dreaming of +her. For years I have been saving up all my money to buy a pretty +cottage for her and her mother that she loves so well. I meant to have +bought or built one this very year. And after having made the pretty +nest, to have wooed my pretty bird to come and occupy it. I meant to +have been such a good boy to her mother, too! I pleased myself with +fancying how the poor, little timorous woman would rest in so much peace +and confidence in our home--with me and Lina. I have saved so much that +I am richer than any one knows, and I meant to have accomplished all +that this very time of coming home. I hurried home. I reached the house. +I ran in like a wild boy as I was. Her voice called me. I followed its +sound--ran up-stairs to her room. I found her in bed. I thought she was +sick. But she sprang up, and threw herself upon my bosom, and with her +arms clasped about my neck, wept as if her heart would break. And while +I wondered what the matter could be, her mother interfered and told me. +God's judgment light upon them all, I say! Oh! it was worse than murder. +It was a horrid, horrid crime, that has no name because there is none +heinous enough for it. Thurston! I acted like a very brute! God help me, +I was both stunned and maddened, as it seems to me now. For I could not +speak. I tore her little, fragile, clinging arms from off my neck, and +thrust her from me. And here I am. Don't ask me how I loved her! I have +no words to tell you!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE FAIRY BRIDE. + + +Since the morning of her ill-starred marriage, Sans Souci had waned like +a waning moon; and the bridegroom saw, with dismay, his fairy bride +slowly fading, passing, vanishing from his sight. There was no very +marked disorder, no visible or tangible symptoms to guide the +physicians, who were in succession summoned to her relief. Very obscure +is the pathology of a wasting heart, very occult the scientific +knowledge that can search out the secret sickness, which, the further it +is sought, shrinks the deeper from sight. + +Once, indeed, while she was sitting with her aunt and uncle, the latter +suddenly and rudely mentioned Cloudy's name, saying that "the fool" was +sulking over at Dell-Delight; that he believed he would have blown his +brains out if it had not been for Thurston, and for his own part, he +almost wished that he had been permitted to do so, because he thought +none but a fool would ever commit suicide, and the fewer fools there +were in the world the better, etc., etc. His monologue was suddenly +arrested by Henrietta's rushing forward to lift up Sans Souci, who had +turned very pale, and dropped from her seat to the floor, where she lay +silently quivering and gasping, like some poor wounded and dying bird. + +They tacitly resolved, from this time forth, never to name Cloudy in her +presence again. + +And the commodore struck his heavy stick upon the floor, and +emphatically thanked God that Nace Grimshaw had not been present to +witness her agitation and its cause. + +And Jacquelina waned and waned. And the physicians, wearied out with her +case, prescribed "Change of air and scene--pleasant company--cheerful +amusement--excitement," etc. A winter in Washington was suggested. And +the little invalid was consulted as to her wishes upon the subject. +"Yes," Jacquelina said she would go--anywhere, if only her aunty and +Marian would go with her--she wanted Marian. + +Mrs. Waugh readily consented to accompany her favorite, and also to try +to induce "Hebe," as she called blooming Marian, to make one of their +party. + +And the very first day that the weather and the roads would admit of +traveling, Mrs. Waugh rode over to Old Fields to see Marian, and talk +with her about the contemplated journey. + +The proposition took the young lady by surprise; there were several +little lets and hindrances to her immediate acceptance of the +invitation, which might, however, be disposed of; and finally, Marian +begged a day to consider about it. With this answer, Mrs. Waugh was +forced to be content, and she took her leave, saying: + +"Remember, Hebe! that I think your society and conversation more +needful, and likely to be more beneficial to poor Lapwing, than anything +else we can procure for her; therefore, pray decide to go with us, if +possible." + +Marian deprecated such reliance upon her imperfect abilities, but +expressed her strong desire to do all the good she possibly could effect +for the invalid, and made little doubt but that she should at least be +able to attend her. So, with this hope, Mrs. Waugh kissed her and +departed. + +The very truth was, that Marian wished to see and consult her bethrothed +before consenting to leave home for what seemed to her to be so long a +journey, and for so long a period. In fact, Marian was not now a free +agent; she had suffered her free will to slip from her own possession +into that of Thurston. + +She had not seen him all the wretched weather, and her heart now yearned +for his presence. And that very afternoon Marian had a most pressing +errand to Charlotte Hall, to purchase groceries, which the little family +had got entirely out of during the continuance of the snow. + +There was no certainty that she should see Thurston; still she hoped to +do so, nor was her hope disappointed. + +He overtook her a short distance from the village, on her road home. + +Their meeting was a very glad one--heart sprang to heart and hand to +hand--and neither affected to conceal the pleasure that it gave them. +After the first joyous greetings, and the first earnest and affectionate +inquiries about each other's health and welfare, both became grave and +silent for a little while. Marian was reflecting how to propose to leave +him for a three-months' visit to the gay capital, little thinking that +Thurston himself was perplexed with the question of how to break to her +the news of the necessity of his own immediate departure to England for +an absence of at least six or eight months. Marian spoke first. + +"Dear Thurston, I have something to propose to you, that I fear you will +not like very well; but if you do not, speak freely; for I am not +bound." + +"I--I do not understand you, love! Pray explain at once," said he, quick +to take alarm where she was concerned. + +"You know poor little Jacquelina has fallen into very bad health and +spirits? Well, her physicians recommend change of air and scene, and her +friends have decided to take her to Washington to pass the remainder of +the winter. And the little creature has set her sickly fancy upon having +me to go with her. Now, I think it is some sort a duty to go, and I +would not willingly refuse. Nevertheless, dear Thurston, I dread to +leave you, and if you think you will be very lonesome this winter +without me--if you are likely to miss me one-half as much as I have +missed you these last three weeks, I will not leave you at all." + +He put his hand out and took hers, and pressed it, and would have +carried it to his lips, but her wicked little pony suddenly jerked away. + +"My own dearest Marian," he said; "my frank, generous love! if I were +going to remain in this neighborhood this winter, no consideration, I +fear, for others' good, would induce me to consent to part with you." + +It was now Marian's turn to change color, and falter in her tones, as +she asked: + +"You--you are not going away?" + +"Sweet Marian, yes! A duty--a necessity too imperative to be denied, +summons me." + +She kept her eyes fixed on his face in painful anxiety. + +"I will explain. You have heard, dear Marian, that after my father's +death my mother married a second time?" + +"No--I never heard of it." + +"She did, however--her second husband was a Scotchman. She lived with +him seven years, and then died, leaving him one child, a boy six years +of age. After my mother's death, my stepfather returned to Scotland, +taking with him my half-brother, and leaving me with my grandfather. And +all communication gradually ceased between us. Within this week, +however, I have received letters from Edinburgh, informing me of the +death of my stepfather, and the perfect destitution of my half-brother, +now a lad of twelve years of age. He is at present staying with the +clergyman who attended his father in his last illness, and who has +written me the letters giving me the information that I now give you. +Thus, you see, my dearest love, how urgent the duty is that takes me +from your side. Yet--What! tears, my Marian! Ah, if so! let my dearest +one but say the word, and I will not leave her. I will send money over +to the lad instead." + +"No, no! Ah! no, never trust your mother's orphan boy to strangers, or +to his own guidance. Go for the poor, desolate lad, and never leave him, +or suffer him to leave you. I know what orphanage in childhood is, dear +Thurston, and so must you. Bring the boy home. And if he lives with you, +I will do all I can to supply his mother's place." + +"Dear girl! dear, dear Marian, my heart so longs to press you to itself. +A plague upon these horses that keep us so far apart! I wish we were on +foot!" + +"Do you?" smiled Marian, directing his attention to the sloppy path down +which they were riding. + +Thurston smiled ruefully, and then sighed. + +"When do you set out on your long journey, dear Thurston?" + +"I have not fixed the time, my Marian! I have not the courage to name +the day that shall part us for so long." + +He looked at her with a heavy sigh, and then added: + +"I shrink from appointing the time of going, as a criminal might shrink +from giving the signal for his own execution." + +"Then let some other agent do it," said Marian, smiling at his +earnestness. Then she added--"I shall go to Washington with Jacquelina. +Her party will set out on Wednesday next. And, dear Thurston, I shall +not like to leave you here, at all. I shall go with more content, if I +knew that you set out the same day for your journey." + +"But fairest Marian, never believe but that if you go to Washington, I +shall take that city in on my way. There is a vessel to sail on the +first of February, from Baltimore, for Liverpool. I shall probably go by +her. I shall pass through Washington City on my way to Baltimore. Nay, +indeed! what should hinder me from joining your party and traveling with +you, since we are friends and neighbors, and go at the same time, from +the same neighborhood, by the same road, to the same place?" he asked, +eagerly. + +A smile of joy illumined Marian's face. + +"Truly," she answered, after a short pause. "I see no objection to that +plan. And, oh! Thurston," she said, holding out her hand, and looking at +him with her face holy and beaming with affection, "do you know what +fullness of life and comfort--what sweetness of rest and contentment I +feel in your presence, when I can have that rightly?" + +"My own dear Marian! Heaven hasten the day when we shall be forever +united." + +And he suddenly sprang from his horse--lifted her from her saddle, and +holding her carefully above the sloppy path, folded her fondly to his +bosom, pressed kisses on her lips, and then replaced her, saying: + +"Dear Marian, forgive me! My heart was half breaking with its need to +press you to itself! Now then, dearest, I shall consider it settled that +I join your party to Washington. I shall call at Locust Hill and see +Mrs. Waugh, inform her of my destination, and ask her permission to +accompany her. By the way--when do you give your answer to that lady?" + +"I shall ride over to the Hill to-morrow morning for that purpose." + +"Very well, dearest. In that case I will also appoint the morning as my +time of calling; so that I may have the joy of meeting you there." + +They had by this time reached the verge of the forest and the cross-road +where their paths divided. And here they bade a loving, lingering adieu +to each other, and separated. + +That evening Marian announced to Edith her decision to accompany +Jacquelina to Washington City. + +Edith approved the plan. + +The next morning Marian left the house to go to Locust Hill, where, +besides the family, she found Thurston already awaiting her. + +Thurston was seated by Jacquelina, endeavoring, by his gay and brilliant +sallies of wit and humor, to charm away the sullen sadness of the pale +and petulant little beauty. + +And, truth to tell, soon fitful, fleeting smiles broke over the little +wan face--smiles that grew brighter and more frequent as she noticed the +surly anxiety they gave to Dr. Grimshaw, who sat, like the dog in the +manger, watching Thurston sunning himself in the light of eyes that +never, by any chance, shone upon him, their rightful proprietor! + +Never! for though Jacquelina had paled and waned, failed and faded, +until she seemed more like a moonlight phantom than a form of flesh and +blood--her spirit was unbowed, unbroken, and she had kept her oath of +uncompromising enmity with fearful perseverance. Petitions, +expostulations, prayers, threats, had been all in vain to procure one +smile, one word, one glance of compliance or forgiveness. And the fate +of Dr. Grimshaw, with his unwon bride, was like that of Tantalus. And +now the inconceivable tortures of jealousy were about to be added to his +other torments, for this man now sitting by his side, and basking in the +sunshine of her smiles, was the all-praised Adonis who had won her +maiden admiration months ago. + +But Thurston soon put an end to his sufferings--not in consideration of +his feelings, but because the young gentleman could not afford to lose +or risk the chance of making one of the party which was to number Marian +among its members. Therefore, with a light smile and careless bow, he +left the side of Jacquelina and crossed over to Mrs. Waugh, with whom, +also, he entered into a gay and bantering conversation, in the course of +which Mrs. Waugh mentioned to him their purpose of going to Washington +for a month or two. + +It was then that, with an air of impromptu, Thurston informed her of his +own contemplated journey and voyage, and of his intention to go to +Baltimore by way of Washington. + +"And when do you leave here?" asked Mrs. Waugh. + +"I thought of starting on Wednesday morning." + +"The very day that we shall set out--why can't we travel in company?" +asked Henrietta, socially. + +"I should be charmed, indeed--delighted! And nothing shall prevent me +having that honor and pleasure, if Mrs. Waugh will permit my +attendance." + +"Why, my dear Thurston, to be sure I will--but don't waste fine speeches +on your uncle's old wife. How do you travel?" + +"As far as Washington I shall go on horseback, with a mounted groom to +bring back the horses, when I proceed on my journey by stage to +Baltimore." + +"On horseback! Now that is excellent--that is really providential, as it +falls out--for here is my Hebe, whom I have coaxed to be of the party, +and who will have to perform the journey also on horseback, and you will +make an admirable cavalier for her!" + +Thurston turned and bowed to Marian, and expressed, in courtly terms, +the honor she would confer, and the pleasure she would give, in +permitting him to serve her. And no one, to have seen him, would have +dreamed that the subject had ever before been mentioned between them. + +Marian blushed and smiled, and expressing her thanks, accepted his +offered escort. + +These preliminaries being settled, Thurston soon after arose and took +leave. + +Marian remained some time longer to arrange some little preparatory +matters with Mrs. Waugh, and then bade them good-by, and hastened +homeward. + +But she saw Thurston walking his horse up and down the forest-path, and +impatiently waiting for her. + + * * * * * + +Dr. Grimshaw was very much dissatisfied; and no sooner had Marian left +the home, and left him alone with Mrs. Waugh and Jacquelina, than he +turned to the elder lady, and said, with some asperity: + +"I think it would have been well, Mrs. Waugh, if you had consulted the +other members of your party before making so important an addition to +it." + +"And I think it would be better, Dr. Grimshaw, if you would occupy your +valuable time and attention with affairs that fall more immediately +within your own province," said Henrietta, loftily, as she would +sometimes speak. + +Dr. Grimshaw deigned no reply. He closed his mouth with a spasmodic +snap, and sat ruminating--the very picture of wretchedness. He was, +indeed, to be pitied! For no patience, no kindness, no wooing could win +from his bride one smile. That very afternoon, under the combined +goadings of exasperated self-love and poignant jealousy, Dr. Grimshaw +sought an interview with Mrs. L'Oiseau, and urged her, in the most +strenuous manner, to exert her maternal influence in bringing her +daughter to terms. + +And Mrs. L'Oiseau sent for Jacquelina, to have a talk with her. But not +all her arguments, entreaties, or even tears, could prevail with the +obstinate bride to relax one single degree of her unforgiving antagonism +to her detested bridegroom. + +"Mother," she said, with sorrowful bitterness, "you are well now; +indeed, you never were so ill as I was led to believe; and you are +independent. I parted with my only hope of happiness in life to render +you so; I sold myself in a formal marriage to be the legal medium of +endowing Dr. Grimshaw with a certain landed estate. Even into that +measure I was deceived--no more of that! it crazes me! The conditions +are all fulfilled; he will have the property, and you are independent. +And now he has no further claim upon me, and no power over me!" + +"He has, Jacquelina; and it is only Dr. Grimshaw's forbearance that +permits you to indulge in this wicked whim." + +"His forbearance! Oh! hasn't he been forbearing, though!" she exclaimed, +with a mocking laugh. + +"Yes; he has, little as you are disposed to acknowledge it. You do not +seem to know that he can compel your submission!" + +"Can he!" she hissed, drawing her breath sharply through her clenched +teeth, and clutching her fingers convulsively, while a white ring +gleamed around the blue iris of her dilated eyes. "Let him try! let him +drive me to desperation, and then learn how spirits dare to escape! But +he will not do that. Mimmy! he reads me better than you do; he knows +that he must not urge me beyond my powers of endurance. No, mother! Let +him take my uncle into his counsels again, if he pleases; let them +combine all their ingenuity, and wickedness, and power, and bring them +all to bear on me at once; let them do their worst--they shall not gain +one concession from me; not one smile, not one word, not one single look +of tolerance--so help me heaven! And they know it, mother!--they know +it! And why? You are secured from their malice; now they can turn no +screws upon my heart-strings!--and I am free! They know it, mother--they +know it, if you do not." + +"But, Jacquelina, this is a very, very wicked life to lead! You are +living in a state of mortal sin while you persist in this shocking +rebellion against the authority and just rights of your husband." + +"He is not my husband! that I utterly deny! I have never made him such! +There was nothing in our nominal marriage to give him that claim. It was +a mere legal form, for a mercenary purpose. It was a wicked and shameful +subterfuge; a sacrilegious desecration of God's holy altar! but in its +wickedness heaven knows I had little will! I was deluded and disturbed; +facts were misrepresented to me, threats were made that could never have +been executed; my fears were excited for your life; my affections were +wrought upon; I was driven out of my senses even before I did consent to +be his nominal wife--the legal sumpter-mule to carry him an estate. I +promised nothing more, and I have kept all my promises. It is over! it +is over! it is done! and it cannot be undone! But I never--never will +forgive that man for the part he played in the drama!" + +"_Ave Maria, Mater Dolorosa!_ Was ever a mother so sorrowful as I? Holy +saints and angels! how you shock me. Don't you know, wretched child, +that you are committing deadly sin? Don't you know, alas! the holy +church would refuse you its communion?" + +"Let it! I will be excommunicated before I will give Dr. Grimshaw one +tolerant glance! I will risk the eternal rather than fall into the +nearer perdition!" + +"Holy Mary save her! Don't you know, most miserable child! that such is +your condition, that if you were to die now your soul would go to +burning flames?" + +"Ha! ha! Where do you think it is now, Mimmy?" + +"You are mad! You don't know what you're talking about! And, alas! you +are half an infidel, I know, for you don't believe in hell!" + +"Yes, I do, Mimmy! Oh! yes, indeed I do! If ever my faith was shaken +in that article of belief, it is firm enough now! It is more than +re-established, for, look you, Mimmy! I believe in heaven, but I know +of hell!" + +"I'm very glad you do, my dear. And I hope you will meditate much upon +it, and it may lead you to change your course in regard to Dr. Grimshaw." + +"Mimmy!" she said, with a wild laugh, "is there a deeper pit in +perdition than that to which you urge me now?" + + * * * * * + +Fortune certainly favored the lovers that day; for when Thurston reached +home in the evening, his grandfather said to him: + +"Well, Mr. Jackanapes, since you are to sail from the port of Baltimore, +I think it altogether best that you should take a private conveyance, +and go by way of Washington." + +"That will be a very lonesome manner of traveling, sir," answered the +young man, demurely. + +"It will be a very cheap one, you mean, and, therefore, will not befit +you, Sir Millionaire! It will cost nothing, and, therefore, lose its +only charm for you, my Lord Spendthrift," cried the miser, sharply. + +"On the contrary, sir, I only object to the loneliness of the long +journey." + +"No one to chatter to, eh, Mr. Magpie! Well, it need not be so! There's +Nace Grimshaw, and his set--extravagant fools!--going up to the city to +flaunt among the fashionables. You can go as they go, and chatter to the +other monkey, Jacquelina--and make Old Nace mad with jealousy, so that +he shall go and hang himself, and leave you the widow and her fortune! +Come! is there mischief enough to amuse you? But I know you won't do it! +I know it! I know it! I know it! just because I wish you to!" + +"What, sir? drive Dr. Grimshaw to hang himself?" + +"No, sir! I mean you won't join the party." + +"You mistake, sir. I will certainly do so, if you wish it," said +Thurston, gravely. + +"Humph! Well, that is something better than I expected. You can take the +new gig, you know, and take Melchisedek to drive you, and to bring it +back." + +"Just as you say, sir," said the young gentleman, with filial +compliance. + +"And mind, take care that you are not led into any waste of money." + +"I shall take care, sir." + +And here Thurston's heart was gladdened within him. He profoundly +thanked his stars. The new gig! What an opportunity to save Marian the +fatigue of an equestrian journey--offer her an easy seat, and have the +blessing of her near companionship for the whole trip! While his +servant, Melchisedek, could ride Marian's pony. And this arrangement +would be so natural, so necessary, so inevitable, that not even the +jealous, suspicious miser could make the least question of its perfect +propriety. For, under the circumstances, what gentleman could leave a +lady of his party to travel wearily on horseback, while himself and his +servant rode cosily at ease in a gig? What gentleman would not rather +give the lady his seat in the gig--take the reins himself and drive her, +while his servant took her saddle-horse. So thought Thurston. Yet he did +not hint the subject to his grandfather--the method of their traveling +should seem the impromptu effect of chance. The next morning being +Sunday, he threw himself in Marian's path, waited for her, and rode with +her a part of the way to church. And while they were in company, he told +her of the new arrangement in the manner of traveling, that good fortune +had enabled him to make--that if she would so honor and delight him, he +should have her in the gig by his side for the whole journey. He was so +happy, so very happy in the thought, he said. + +"And so am I, dearest Thurston! very, very happy in the idea of being +with you. Thank God!" said the warm-hearted girl, offering her hand, +which he took and covered with kisses. + +Thurston's good fortune was not over. His star was still in the +ascendant, for after the morning service, while the congregation were +leaving the church, he saw Mrs. Waugh beckon him to her side. He quickly +obeyed the summons. And then, the lady said: + +"I may not see you again soon, Thurston, and, therefore, I tell you +now--that if you intend to join our party to Washington, you must make +all your arrangements to come ever to Locust Hill on Tuesday evening, +and spend the night with us; as we start at a very early hour on +Wednesday morning, and should not like to be kept waiting. My Hebe is +also coming on Tuesday evening, to stay all night. Now, not a word, +Thurston, I know what dilatory folks young people are. And I know very +well that if I don't make sure of you on Tuesday evening, you will keep +us a full hour beyond our time on Wednesday morning--you know you will." + +Thurston was secretly delighted. To spend the evening with Marian! to +spend the night under the same roof with her--preparatory to their +social journey in the morning. Thurston began to think that he was born +under a lucky planet. He laughingly assured Mrs. Waugh that he had not +the slightest intention or wish to dispute her commands, and that on +Tuesday evening he should present himself punctually at the supper-table +at Locust Hill. He further informed her that as his grandfather had most +arbitrarily forced upon him the use of his new gig, he should bring it, +and offer Miss Mayfield a seat. + +It was now Mrs. Waugh's turn to be delighted, and to declare that she +was very glad--that it would be so much easier and pleasanter to her +Hebe, than the cold, exposed, and fatiguing equestrian manner of +traveling. "But mind, young gentleman, you are not to make love to my +Hebe! for we all think her far too good for mortal man!" laughed Mrs. +Waugh. + +Thurston gravely promised that he would not--if he could help it. And +so, with mutual good feeling, they shook hands and separated. + +On Monday evening, at his farewell lecture, Thurston met Marian again, +and joyfully announced to her the invitation that Mrs. Waugh had +extended to him. And the maiden's delightful smile assured him of her +full sympathy with his gladness. + +And on Tuesday evening, the whole party for Washington was assembled +around the tea-table at Locust Hill. The evening passed very cheerily. +The commodore, Mrs. Waugh, Marian and Thurston, were all in excellent +spirits. And Thurston, out of pure good nature, sought to cheer and +enliven the pretty, peevish bride, Jacquelina, who, out of caprice, +affected a pleasure in his attentions that she was very far from +feeling. This gave so much umbrage to Dr. Grimshaw that Mrs. Waugh +really feared some unpleasant demonstration from the grim bridegroom, +and seized the first quiet opportunity of saying to the young gentleman: + +"Do, Thurston, leave Lapwing alone! Don't you see that that maniac is as +jealous as a Turk?" + +"Oh! he is!" thought Thurston, benevolently. "Very well! in that case +his jealousy shall not starve for want of ailment;" and he devoted +himself to the capricious bride with more _impressement_ than +before--consoling himself for his discreet neglect of Marian by +reflecting on the blessed morrow that should place her at his side for +the whole day. + +And so the evening passed; and at an early hour the party separated to +get a good long night's rest, preparatory to their early start in the +morning. + +But Thurston, for one, was too happy to sleep for some time; too happy +in the novel blessedness of resting under the same roof with his own +beautiful and dearest Marian. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE BRIDE OF AN HOUR. + + +It was a clear, cold, sharp, invigorating winter morning. The snow was +crusted over with hoar frost, and the bare forest trees were hung with +icicles. The cunning fox, the 'possum and the 'coon, crept shivering +from their dens; but the shy, gray rabbit, and the tiny, brown +wood-mouse, still nestled in their holes. And none of nature's small +children ventured from their nests, save the hardy and courageous little +snow-birds that came to seek their food even at the very threshold of +their natural enemy--man. + +The approaching sun had scarcely as yet reddened the eastern horizon, or +flushed the snow, when at Locust Hill our travelers assembled in the +dining-room, to partake of their last meal previous to setting forth. + +Commodore Waugh, and Mrs. L'Oiseau, who were fated to remain at home and +keep house, were also there to see the travelers off. + +The fine, vitalizing air of the winter morning, the cheerful bustle +preparatory to their departure, the novelty of the breakfast eaten by +candle-light, all combined to raise and exhilarate the spirits of the +party. + +After the merry, hasty meal was over, Mrs. Waugh, in her voluminous +cloth cloak, fur tippet, muff, and wadded hood; Jacquelina, enveloped in +several fine, soft shawls, and wearing a warm, chinchilla bonnet; and +Dr. Grimshaw, in his dreadnaught overcoat and cloak, and long-eared fur +cap, all entered the large family carriage, where, with the additional +provision of foot-stoves and hot bricks, they had every prospect of a +comfortable mode of conveyance. + +Old Oliver, in his many-caped drab overcoat, and fox-skin cap and +gloves, sat upon the coachman's box with the proud air of a king upon +his throne. And why not? It was Oliver's very first visit to the city, +and the suit of clothes he wore was brand new! + +Thurston's new gig was furnished with two fine buffalo robes--one laid +down on the seats and the floor as a carpet, and the other laid over as +a coverlet. His forethought had also provided a foot-stove for Marian. +And never was a happier man than he when he handed his smiling companion +into the gig, settled her comfortably in her seat, placed the foot-stove +under her feet, sprang in and seated himself beside her, tucked the +buffalo robe carefully in, and took the reins, and waited the signal to +move on. + +Melchisedek, or as he was commonly called, Cheesy, mounted upon Marian's +pony, rode on in advance, to open the gates for the party. Mrs. Waugh's +carriage followed. And Thurston's gig brought up the rear. And thus the +travelers set forth. + +The sun had now risen in cloudless splendor, and was striking long lines +of crimson light across the snow, and piercing through the forest +aisles. Flocks of saucy little snow-birds alighted fearlessly in their +path; but the cunning little gray rabbits just peeped with their round, +bright eyes, and then quickly hopped away. + +I need not describe their merry journey at length. My readers will +readily imagine how delightful was the trip to at least two of the +party. And those two were not Dr. Grimshaw and Jacquelina. + +Thurston pleaded so hard for a private marriage when they got to +Washington that at last Marian consented. + +So one day they drove out to the Navy Yard Hill, and there in the +remotest and quietest suburb of the city, in a little Methodist chapel, +without witnesses, Thurston and Marian were married. + +Thurston and Marian found an opportunity to be alone in the drawing-room +for the few moments preceding his departure. In those last moments she +could not find it in her heart to withhold one word whose utterance +would cheer his soul, and give him hope and joy and confidence in +departing. Marian had naturally a fine, healthful, high-toned +organization--a happy, hopeful, joyous temperament, an inclination +always to look upon the sunny side of life and events. And so, when he +drew her gently and tenderly to his bosom, and whispered: + +"You have made me the happiest and most grateful man on earth, dear, +lovely Marian! dear, lovely wife! but are you satisfied, beloved--oh! +are you satisfied? Do I leave you at ease?" + +She spoke the very truth when she confessed to him--her head being on +his shoulder, and her low tones flowing softly to his listening ear: + +"More than satisfied, Thurston--more than satisfied, I am inexpressibly +happy now. Yes, though you are going away; for, see! the pain of parting +for a few months, is lost in the joy of knowing that we are united, +though separated--and in anticipating the time not long hence, when we +shall meet again. God bless you, dearest Thurston." + +"God forever bless and love you, sweet wife." And so they parted. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +SPRING AND LOVE. + + +It was late in February before the party reached home. Thurston's +business finished he also hastened back and sought out Marian. One +memorable episode must be related. Thurston had met Marian not many +yards down the lonely forest foot-path, leading from the village school +to Old Fields one evening. + +After a walk of about a quarter of a mile through the bushes they +descended by the natural staircase of moss-covered rocks, and sat down +together upon a bed of violets at its foot. + +Before them, through the canopy of over-arching trees, was seen, like a +picture in its frame of foliage, a fine view of the open country and the +bay now bathed in purple haze of evening. + +But the fairest prospect that ever opened had no more attraction for +Thurston than if it had been a view of chimney tops from a back attic +window. He passed his right hand around Marian's shoulders, and drew her +closer to his side, and with the other hand began to untie her bonnet +strings. + +"Lay off this little bonnet. Let me see your beauteous head uncovered. +There!" he said, putting it aside, and smoothing her bright locks. "Oh, +Marian! my love! my queen! when I see only the top of your head, I think +your rippling, sunny tresses your chief beauty; but soon my eyes fall to +the blooming cheek--there never was such a cheek--so vivid, yet so +delicate, so glowing, yet so cool and fresh--like the damask rose bathed +in morning dew--so when I gaze on it I think the blushing cheek your +sweetest charm--ah! but near by breathe the rich, ripe lips, fragrant as +nectarines; and which I should swear to be the very buds of love, were +not my gaze caught up to meet your eyes--stars!--and then I know that I +have found the very soul of beauty! Oh! priceless pearl! By what rare +fortune was it that I ever found you in these Maryland woods? Love! +Angel! Marian! for that means all!" he exclaimed, in a sort of ecstasy, +straining her to his side. + +And Marian dropped her blushing face upon his shoulder--she was blushing +not from bashful love alone--with it mingled a feeling of shame, regret, +and mistrust, because he praised so much her form and face; because he +seemed to love her only for her superficial good looks. She would have +spoken if she could have done so; she would have told what was on her +heart as earnest as a prayer by saying: + +"Oh, do not think so much of this perishable, outward beauty; accident +may ruin it, sickness may injure it, time will certainly impair it. Do +not love me for that which I have no power over, and which may be taken +from me at any time--which I shall be sure to lose at last--love me for +something better and more lasting than that. I have a heart in this +bosom worth all the rest, a heart that in itself is an inner world--a +kingdom worthy of your rule--a heart that neither time, fortune, nor +casualty can ever change--a heart that loves you now in your strong and +beautiful youth, and will love you when you are old and gray, and when +you are one of the redeemed of heaven. Love me for this heart." + +But to have saved her own soul or his, Marian could not then have spoken +those words. + +So he continued to caress her--every moment growing more and more +enchanted with her loveliness. There was more of passion than affection +in his manner, and Marian felt and regretted this, though her feeling +was not a very clearly defined one--it was rather an instinct than a +thought, and it was latent, and quite subservient to her love for him. + +"Love! angel! how enchanting you are," he exclaimed, catching her in his +arms and pressing kisses on her cheek and lips and neck. + +Glowing with color, Marian strove to release herself. "Let me go--let us +leave this place, dear Thurston," she pleaded, attempting to rise. + +"Why? Why are you in such a hurry? Why do you wish to leave me?" he +asked, without releasing his hold. + +"It is late! Dear Thurston, it is late," she said, in vague alarm. + +"That does not matter--I am with you." + +"They will be anxious about me, pray let us go! They will be so +anxious!" she said, with increasing distress, trying to get away. +"Thurston! Thurston! You distress me beyond measure," she exclaimed in +great trouble. + +But he stopped her breath with kisses. + +Marian suddenly ceased to struggle, and by a strong effort of will she +became perfectly calm. And looking in his eyes, with her clear, steady +gaze, she said: + +"Thurston, I have ceased to strive. But if you are a man of honor, you +will release me." + +His arms dropped from around her as if he had been struck dead. + +Glad to be free, Marian arose to depart. Thurston sat still--his fine +countenance overclouded with mortification and anger. Marian hesitated; +she knew not how to proceed. He did not offer to rise and attend her. At +length she spoke. + +"Will you see me safely through the woods, Thurston?" + +He did not answer. + +"Thurston, it is nearly dark--there are several runaway negroes in the +forest now, and the road will not be safe for me." + +"Good-night, then," she said. + +"Good-night, Marian." + +She turned away and ascended the steps with her heart filled nearly to +bursting with grief, indignation and fear. That he should let her take +that long, dark, dangerous walk alone! it was incredible! she could +scarcely realize it, or believe it! Her unusually excited feelings lent +wings to her feet, and she walked swiftly for about a quarter of a mile, +and then was forced to pause and take breath. And then every feeling of +indignation and fear was lost in that of sorrow, that she had wounded +his feelings, and left him in anger. And Marian dropped her face into +her open hands and wept. A step breaking through the brushwood made her +start and tremble. She raised her head with the attitude of one prepared +for a spring and flight. It was so dark she could scarcely see her hands +before her, but as the step approached, a voice said: + +"Fear nothing, Marian, I have not lost sight of you since you left me," +and Thurston came up to her side. + +With a glad smile of surprise Marian turned to greet him, holding out +her hand, expecting him to draw it through his arm and lead her on. But +no, he would not touch her hand. Lifting his hat slightly, he said: + +"Go forward if you please to do so, Marian. I attend you." + +Marian went on, and he followed closely. They proceeded in silence for +some time. Now that she knew that he had not left her a moment alone in +the woods, she felt more deeply grieved at having so mortified and +offended him. At last she spoke: + +"Pray, do not be angry with me, dear Thurston." + +"I am not angry that I know of, fair one; and you do me too much honor +to care about my mood. Understand me once for all. I am not a Dr. +Grimshaw, in any phase of that gentleman's character. I am neither the +tyrant who will persecute you to exact your attention, nor yet the slave +who will follow and coax and whine and wheedle for your favor. In either +character I should despise myself too much," he answered, coolly. + +"Thurston, you are deeply displeased, or you would not speak so, and I +am very, very sorry," said Marian in a tremulous voice. + +"Do not distress yourself about me, fair saint! I shall trouble you no +more after this evening!" + +What did he mean? What could Thurston mean? Trouble her no more after +this evening! She did not understand the words, but they went through +her bosom like a sword. She did not reply--she could not. She wished to +say: + +"Oh, Thurston, if you could read my heart--how singly it is devoted to +you--how its thoughts by day, and dreams by night are filled with +histories and images of what I would be, and do or suffer for you--of +how faithfully I mean to love and serve you in all our coming years--you +would not mistake me, and get angry, because you would know my heart." +But these words Marian could not have uttered had her life depended on +it. + +"Go on, Marian, the moor is no safer than the forest; I shall attend you +across it." + +And they went on until the light from Old Field Cottage was visible. +Then Marian said: + +"You had better leave me now. They are sitting up and watching for me." + +"No! go on, the night is very dark. I must see you to the gate." + +They walked rapidly, and just as they approached the house Marian saw a +little figure wandering about on the moor, and which suddenly sprang +toward her with an articulate cry of joy! It was Miriam, who threw +herself upon Marian with such earnestness of welcome that she did not +notice Thurston, who now raised his hat slightly from his head, with a +slight nod, and walked rapidly away. + +"Here she is, mother! Oh! here she is!" cried Miriam, pulling at +Marian's dress and drawing her in the house. + +"Oh! Marian, how anxious you have made us! Where have you been?" asked +Edith, in a tone half of love, half of vexation. + +"I have been detained," said Marian, in a low voice. + +The cottage room was very inviting. The evening was just chilly enough +to make the bright little wood fire agreeable. On the clean hearth +before it sat the tea-pot and a covered plate of toast waiting for +Marian. And old Jenny got up and sat out a little stand, covered it with +a white napkin, and put the tea and toast, with the addition of a piece +of cold chicken and a saucer of preserves, upon it. And Marian laid off +her straw bonnet and muslin scarf and sat down and tried to eat, for +affectionate eyes had already noticed the trouble of her countenance, +and were watching her now with anxiety. + +"You do not seem to have an appetite, dear; what is the matter?" asked +Edith. + +"I am not very well," said Marian, rising and leaving the table, and +refraining with difficulty from bursting into tears. + +"It's dat ar cussed infunnelly party at Lockemup--last Toosday!" said +Jenny, as she cleared away the tea service--"a-screwin' up tight in +cusseds an' ball-dresses! an' a-dancing all night till broad daylight! +'sides heavin' of ever so much unwholesome 'fectionery trash down her +t'roat--de constitution ob de United States hisself couldn't stan' sich! +much less a delicy young gall! I 'vises ov you, honey, to go to bed." + +"Indeed, Marian, it was too much for you to lose your rest all night, +and then have to get up early to go to school. You should have had a +good sleep this morning. And then to be detained so late this evening. +Did you have to keep any of the girls in, or was it a visit from the +trustees that detained you?" + +"Neither," said Marian, nervously, "but I think I must take Jenny's +advice and go to bed." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THAT NIGHT. + + +From that miserable night, Marian saw no more of Thurston, except +occasionally at church, when he came at irregular intervals, and +maintained the same coolness and distance of manner toward her, and with +matchless self-command, too, since often his heart yearned toward her +with almost irresistible force. + +Cold and calm as was his exterior, he was suffering not less than +Marian; self-tossed with passion, the strong currents and +counter-currents of his soul whirled as a moral maelstrom, in which +both reason and conscience threatened to be engulfed. + +And in these mental conflicts judgment and understanding were often +obscured and bewildered, and the very boundaries of right and wrong +lost. + +His appreciation of Marian wavered with his moods. + +When very angry he would mentally denounce her as a cold, prudent, +calculating woman, who had entrapped him into a secret marriage, and +having secured his hand, would now risk nothing for his love, and +himself as a weak, fond fool, the tool of the beautiful, proud diplomat, +whom it would be justifiable to circumvent, to defeat, and to humble in +some way. + +At such times he felt a desire, amounting to a strong temptation, to +abduct her--to get her into his power, and make her feel that power. No +law could protect her or punish him--for they were married. + +But here was the extreme point at which reaction generally commenced, +for Thurston could not contemplate himself in that character--playing +such a part, for an instant. + +And then when a furtive glance would show him Marian's angel face, +fairer and paler and more pensive than ever before--a strong +counter-current of love and admiration approaching to worship, would set +in, and he would look upon her as a fair saint worthy of translation to +heaven, and upon himself as a designing but foiled conspirator, scarcely +one degree above the most atrocious villain. "Currents and +counter-currents" of stormy passion, where is the pilot that shall guide +the understanding safely through them? It is no wonder, that once in a +while, a mind is wrecked. + +Marian, sitting in her pew, saw nothing in his face or manner to +indicate that inward storm. She only saw the sullen, freezing exterior. +Even in his softened moods of penitence, Thurston dared not seek her +society. + +For Marian had begun to recover from the first abject prostration of her +sorrow, and her fair, resolute brow and sad, firm lips mutely assured +him that she never would consent to be his own until their marriage +could be proclaimed. + +And he durst not trust himself in her tempting presence, lest there +should be a renewal of those humiliating scenes he had endured. + +Thus passing a greater portion of the summer; during which Thurston +gradually dropped off from the church, and from all other haunts where +he was likely to encounter Marian, and as gradually began to frequent +the Catholic chapel, and to visit Luckenough, and to throw himself as +much as possible into the distracting company of the pretty elf +Jacquelina. But this--while it threw Dr. Grimshaw almost into frenzy, +did not help Thurston to forget the good and beautiful Marian. Indeed, +by contrast, it seemed to make her more excellent and lovely. + +And thus, while Jacquelina fancied she had a new admirer, Dr. Grimshaw +feared that he had a new rival, and the holy fathers hoped they had a +new convert--Thurston laughed at the vanity of the elf, the jealousy of +the Ogre, and the gullibility of the priests--and sought only escape +from the haunting memory of Marian, and found it not. And finally, bored +and ennuied beyond endurance, he cast about for a plan by which to +hasten his union with Marian. Perhaps it was only that neighborhood she +was afraid of, he thought--perhaps in some other place she would be less +scrupulous. Satan had no sooner whispered this thought to Thurston's ear +than he conceived the design of spending the ensuing autumn in Paris--and +of making Marian his companion while there. Fired with this new idea and +this new hope, he sat down and wrote her a few lines--without address or +signature--as follows: + +"Dearest, forgive all the past. I was mad and blind. I have a plan to +secure at once our happiness. Meet me in the Mossy dell this evening, +and let me explain it at your feet." + +Having written this note, Thurston scarcely knew how to get it at once +into Marian's hands. To put it into the village post-office was to +expose it to the prying eyes of Miss Nancy Skamp. To send it to Old +Fields, by a messenger, was still more hazardous. To slip it into +Marian's own hand, he would have to wait the whole week until +Sunday--and then might not be able to do so unobserved. + +Finally, after much thought, he determined, without admitting the elf +into his full confidence, to entrust the delivery of the note to +Jacquelina. + +He therefore copied it into the smallest space, rolled it up tightly, +and took it with him when he went to Luckenough. + +He spent the whole afternoon at the mansion house, without having an +opportunity to slip it into the hands of Jacquelina. + +It is true that Mrs. Waugh was not present, that good woman being in the +back parlor, sitting at one end of the sofa and making a pillow of her +lap for the commodore's head, which she combed soporifically, while, +stretched at full length, he took his afternoon nap. But Mary L'Oiseau +was there, quietly knotting a toilet cover, and Professor Grimshaw was +there, scowling behind a book that he was pretending to read, and losing +no word or look or tone or gesture of Thurston or Jacquelina, who talked +and laughed and flirted and jested, as if there was no one else in the +world but themselves. + +At last a little negro appeared at the door to summon Mrs. L'Oiseau to +give out supper, and Mary arose and left the room. + +The professor scowled at Jacquelina from the top of his book for a +little while, and then, muttering an excuse, got up and went out and +left them alone together. + +That was a very common trick of the doctor's lately, and no one could +imagine why he did it. + +"It is a ruse, a trap, the grim idiot! to see what we will say to each +other behind his back. Oh, I'd dose him! I just wish Thurston would kiss +me! I do so!" thought Jacquelina. "Thurston," and the elf leaned toward +her companion, and began to be as bewitching as she knew how. + +But Thurston was not thinking of Jacquelina's mischief, though without +intending it he played directly into her hands. + +Rising he took his hat, and saying that his witching little cousin had +beguiled him into breaking one engagement already, advanced to take +leave of her. + +"Jacquelina." he said, lowering his voice, and slipping the note for +Marian into her hand, "may I ask you to deliver this to Miss Mayfield, +when no one is by?" + +A look of surprise and perplexity, followed by a nod of intelligence, +was her answer. + +And Thurston, with a grateful smile, raised her hand to his lips, took +leave and departed. + +"I wonder what it is all about? I could easily untwist and seal it, but +I would not do so for a kingdom!" said Jacko to herself as she turned +the tiny note about in her fingers. + +"Hand me that note, madam!" said Dr. Grimshaw, in curt and husky tones, +as, with stern brow, he stood before her. + +"No, sir! it was not intended for you," she said, mockingly. + +"By the demons, I know that! Hand it here!" + +"Don't swear nor get angry! Both are unbecoming professor!" said the +elf, with mocking gravity. + +"Perdition! will you give it up?" stamped the doctor, in fury. + +"'Perdition,' no;" mocked the fairy. + +"Hand it here, I command you, madam!" cried the professor, trying to +compose himself and recover his dignity. + +"Command away--I like to hear you. Command a regiment, if you like!" +said the elf. + +"Give it up!" thundered the professor, losing his slight hold upon +self-control. + +"Couldn't do it, sir," said Jacko, gravely. + +"It is an appointment, you impudent ----! Hand it here." + +"Not as you know of!" laughed Jacko, tauntingly shaking it over her +head. + +He made a rush to catch it. + +She sprang nimbly away, and clapped the paper into her mouth. + +He overtook and caught her by the arm, and shaking her roughly, +exclaimed, under his breath: + +"Where is it? What have you done with it? You exasperating, unprincipled +little wretch, where is it?" + +"'Echo anfers fere?'" mumbled the imp, chewing up the paper, and keeping +her lips tight. + +"Give it me! give it me! or I'll be the death of you, you diabolical +little ----!" he exclaimed, hoarsely, shaking her as if he would have +shaken her breath out. + +But Jacko had finished chewing up the paper, and she swallowed the pulp +with an effort that nearly choked her, and then opening her mouth, and +inflating her chest, gave voice in a succession of piercing shrieks, +that brought the whole family rushing into the room, and obliged the +professor to relax his hold, and stand like a detected culprit. + +For there was the commodore roused up from his sleep, with his gray hair +and beard standing out all ways, like the picture of the sun in an +almanac. And there was Mrs. Waugh, with the great-tooth comb in her +hand. And Mary L'Osieau, with the pantry keys. And the maid, Maria, with +the wooden tray of flour on her head. And Festus, with a bag of meal in +his hands. And all with their eyes and ears and mouths agape with +amazement and inquiry. + +"In the fiend's name, what's the matter? What the d----l's broke loose? +Is the house on fire again?" vociferated the commodore, seeing that no +one else spoke; "what's all this about, Nace Grimshaw?" + +"Ask your pretty niece, sir!" said the professor, sternly, turning away. + +"Oh, it's you, is it, you little termagant you? Oh, you're a +honey-cooler. What have you been doing now, Imp?" cried the old man, +turning fiercely to Jacquelina. "Answer me, you little vixen!--what does +all this mean?" + +"Better ask 'the gentlemanly professor' why he seized and nearly shook +the head off my shoulders and the breath out of my bosom!" said +Jacquelina, half-crying, half-laughing. + +The commodore turned furiously toward Grim. Shaking a woman's head off +her shoulders, and breath out of her body, in his house, did not suit +his ideas of gallantry at all, rough as he was. + +"By heaven! are you mad, sir? What have you been doing? I never laid the +weight of my hand on Jacquelina in all my life, wild as she has driven +me at times. Explain your brutality, sir." + +"It was to force from her hand a paper which she has swallowed," said +Dr. Grimshaw, with stern coldness regarding the group. + +"Swallowed! swallowed!" shrieked Mrs. Waugh, rushing toward Jacquelina, +and seizing one of her arms, and gazing in her face, thinking only of +poisons and of Jacko's frequent threats of suicide. "Swallowed! +swallowed! Where did she get it? Who procured it for her? What was it? +Oh, run for the doctor, somebody. What are you all standing like you +were thunderstruck for? Dr. Grimshaw, start a boy on horseback +immediately for a physician. Tell him to tell the doctor to bring a +stomach pump with him. You had better go yourself. Oh, hasten; not a +single moment is to be lost. Jacquelina, my dear, do you begin to feel +sick? Do you feel a burning in your throat and stomach? Oh, my dear +child! how came you to do such a rash act?" + +Jacko broke into a loud laugh. + +"Oh! crazy! crazy! it is something that affects her brain she has taken. +Oh! Dr. Grimshaw, how can you have the heart to stand there and not go? +Probably opium." + +Jacko laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks--never, since her +marriage, had Jacko laughed so much. + +"Oh, Dr. Grimshaw! Don't you see she is getting worse and worse. How can +you have the heart to stand there and not go for a physician?" said Mrs. +Waugh, while Mary L'Oiseau looked on, mute with terror, and the +commodore stood with his fat eyes protruding nearly to bursting. + +"Go, oh, go, Dr. Grimshaw!" insisted Mrs. Waugh. + +"I assure you it is not necessary, madam," said the professor, with +stern scorn. + +"There is no danger, aunty. I haven't taken any poison since I took a +dose of Grim before the altar!" said Jacko, through her tears and +laughter. + +"What have you taken, then, unfortunate child?" + +"I have swallowed an assignation," said the elf, as grave as a judge. + +"A what?" exclaimed all, in a breath, + +"An assignation," repeated Jacko, with owl-like calmness and solemnity. + +"What in the name of common sense do you mean, my dear?" inquired Mrs. +Waugh, while the commodore and Mary L'Oiseau looked the astonishment +they did not speak. "Pray explain yourself, my love." + +"He--says--I--swallowed--an--assignation--whole!" repeated Jacquelina, +with distinct emphasis. Her auditors looked from one to another in +perplexity. + +"I see that I shall have to explain the disagreeable affair," said the +professor, coming forward, and addressing himself to the commodore. "Mr. +Thurston Willcoxen was here this afternoon on a visit to your niece, +sir. In taking leave he slipped into her hand a small note, which, when +I demanded, she refused to let me see." + +"And very properly, too. What right had you to make such a 'demand?'" +said Mrs. Waugh, indignantly. + +"I was not addressing my remarks to you, madam," retorted the professor. + +"That will not keep me from making a running commentary upon them, +however," responded the lady. + +"Hold your tongue, Henrietta. Go on, Nace. I swear you are enough to +drive a peaceable man mad between you," said the commodore, bringing his +stick down emphatically. "Well what next?" + +"On my attempting to take it from her she put it in her mouth and +swallowed it." + +"Yes! and then he seized me and shook me, as if I had been a +fine-bearing little plum tree in harvest time." + +"And served you right, I begin to think, you little limb, you. What was +it you had, you little hussy?" + +"An assignation, he says, and he ought to know--being a professor." + +"Don't mock us, Minx! Tell us instantly what were the contents of that +note?" + +"As if I would tell you even if I could. But I couldn't tell you even if +I would. Haven't the least idea what sort of a note it was, from a note +of music to a 'note of hand,' because I had to swallow it as I swallowed +the Ogre at the church--without looking at it. And it is just as +indigestible! I feel it like a bullet in my throat yet!" And that was +all the satisfaction they could get out of Jacko. + +"I should not wonder if you had been making a fool of yourself, Nace," +said the commodore, who seemed inclined to blow up both parties. + +"I hope, sir," said the professor, with great assumption of dignity, +"that you now see the necessity of forbidding that impertinent young +coxcomb the house." + +"Shall do nothing of the sort, Grim. Thurston has no more idea of +falling in love with little Jacko than he has with her mother or +Henrietta, not a bit more." And then the commodore happening to turn his +attention to the two gaping negroes, with a flourish of his stick sent +them about their business, and left the room. + +The next evening Thurston repaired to the mossy dell in the expectation +of seeing Marian, who, of course, did not make her appearance. + +The morning after, filled with disappointment and mortifying conjecture +as to the cause of her non-appearance, Thurston presented himself before +Jacquelina at Luckenough. He happened to find her alone. With all her +playfulness of character, the poor fairy had too much self-respect to +relate the scene to which she had been exposed the day before. So she +contented herself with saying: + +"I found no opportunity of delivering your note, Thurston, and so I +thought it best to destroy it." + +"I thank you. Under the circumstances that was best," replied the young +man, much relieved. When he reached home, he sat down and wrote a long +and eloquent epistle, imploring Marian's forgiveness for his rashness +and folly, assuring her of his continued love and admiration; speaking +of the impossibility of living longer without her society--informing her +of his intention to go to Paris, and proposing that she should either +precede or follow him thither, and join him in that city. It was her +duty, he urged, to follow her husband. + +The following Sunday, after church, Marian placed her answer in his +hands. The letter was characteristic of her--clear, firm, frank and +truthful. It concluded thus: + +"Were I to do as you desire me--leave home clandestinely, precede or +follow you to Paris and join you there, suspicion and calumny would +pursue me--obloquy would rest upon my memory. All these things I could +bear, were it necessary in a good cause; but here it is not necessary, +and would be wrong. But I speak not of myself--I ought not, indeed, to +do so--nor of Edith, whose head would be bowed in humiliation and +sorrow--nor of little Miriam, whose passionate heart would be half +broken by such a desertion. But I speak for the cause of morality and +religion here in this neighborhood, where we find ourselves placed by +heaven, and where we must exercise much influence for good or evil. Wait +patiently for those happy years, that the flying days are speeding on +toward us--those happy years, when you shall look back to this trying +time, and thank God for trials and temptations passed safely through. Do +not urge me again upon this subject. Be excellent, Thurston, be noble, +be god-like, as you can be, if you will; it is in you. Be true to your +highest ideal, and you will be all these. Oh! if you knew how your +Marian's heart craves to bow itself before true god-like excellence!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE INTERCEPTED LETTER. + + +"No! The mail isn't come yet! leastways it isn't opened yet! Fan that +fire, you little black imp, you! and make that kittle bile; if you +don't, I shall never git this wafer soft! and then I'll turn you up, and +give you sich a switching as ye never had in your born days! for I won't +be trampled on by you any longer! you little black willyan, you! 'Scat! +you hussy! get out o' my way, before I twist your neck for you!" + +The first part of this oration was delivered by Miss Nancy Skamp, to +some half-dozen negro grooms who were cooling their shins while waiting +for the mail, before she closed the doors and windows of the +post-office; the second part was addressed to Chizzle, her little negro +waiter--and the third concluding sentence, emphasized by a smart kick, +was bestowed upon poor Molly, the mottled cat. The village post-office +was kept in the lower front room of the little lonely house on the hill, +occupied by the solitary spinster. + +The mail-bags were stuffed remarkably full, and there were several +wonderful letters, that she felt it her duty to open and read before +sending to their owners. + +"Let's see," said the worthy postmistress, as she sorted the letters in +her hand. "What's this? oh! a double letter for Colonel Thornton--pshaw! +that's all about political stuff! Who cares about reading that? I don't! +He may have it to-night if he wants it! Stop! what's this? Lors! it's a +thribble letter for--for Marian Mayfield! And from furrin parts, too! +Now I wonder--(Can't you stop that caterwauling out there?" she said, +raising her voice. "Sposen you niggers were to wait till I open the +office. I reckon you'd get your letters just as soon.) Who can be +writing from furrin parts to Marian Mayfield? Ah! I'll keep this and +read it before Miss Marian gets it." + +When Miss Nancy had closed up for the night she took out the letter +directed to Marian, opened, and began to read it. And as she read her +eyes and mouth grew wider and wider with astonishment, and her wonder +broke forth in frequent exclamations of: "M--y conscience! Well now! +Who'd a dreamt of it! Pity but I'd a let Solomon court her when he +wanted to--but Lors! how did I ever know that she'd--M--y conscience!" +etc., etc. + +Her fit of abstraction was at last broken by a smart rap at the door. + +She started and turned pale, like the guilty creature that she was. + +The rap was repeated sharply. + +She jumped up, hustled the purloined letters and papers out of sight, +and stood waiting. + +The rap was reiterated loudly and authoritatively. + +"Who's that?" she asked, trembling violently. + +"It's me, Aunt Nancy! Do for goodness' sake don't keep a fellow out here +in the storm till he's nearly perished. It's coming on to hail and snow +like the last judgment!" + +"Oh! it's you, is it, Sol? I didn't know but what it was--Do, for +mercy's sake don't be talking about the last judgment, and such awful +things--I declare to man, you put me all of a trimble," said Miss Nancy, +by way of accounting for her palpitations, as she unbarred the door, and +admitted her learned nephew. Dr. Solomon Weismann seemed dreadfully +downhearted as he entered. He slowly stamped the snow from his boots, +shook it off his clothes, took off his hat and his overcoat, and hung +them up, and spoke--never a word! Then he drew his chair right up in +front of the fire, placed a foot on each andiron, stooped over, spread +his palms over the kindly blaze, and still spoke--never a word! + +"Well! I'd like to know what's the matter with you to-night," said Miss +Nancy, as she went about the room looking for her knitting. + +But the doctor stared silently at the fire. + +"It's the latest improvement in politeness--I shouldn't wonder--not to +answer your elders when they speak to you." + +"Were you saying anything to me, Aunt Nancy?" + +"'Was I saying anything to you, Aunt Nancy?' Yes I was! I was asking you +what's the matter?" + +"Oh! I never was so dreadfully low-spirited in my life, Aunt Nancy." + +"And what should a young man like you have to make him feel +low-spirited, I should like to know? Moping about Marian, I shouldn't +wonder. The girl is a good girl enough, if she'd only mind her own +business, and not let people spoil her. And if you do like her, and must +have her, why I shan't make no further objections." + +Here the young doctor turned shortly around and stared at his aunt in +astonishment! + +"Hem!" said Miss Nancy, looking confused, "well, yes, I did oppose it +once, certainly, but that was because you were both poor." + +"And we are both poor still, for aught that I can see, and likely to +continue so." + +"Hish-ish! no you're not! leastways, she's not. I've got something very +strange to tell you," said Miss Nancy, mysteriously drawing her chair up +close to her nephew, and putting her lips to his ear, and +whispering--"Hish-ish!" + +"'Hish-ish!' What are you 'hish-ish'ing for, Aunt Nancy, I'm not saying +anything, and your breath spins into a fellow's ear enough to give him +an ear-ache!" said Dr. Solomon, jerking his head away. + +"Now then listen--Marian Mayfield has got a fortune left to her." + +Miss Nancy paused to see the effect of this startling piece of news upon +her companion. + +But the doctor was not sulky, and upon his guard; so after an +involuntary slight start, he remained perfectly still. Miss Nancy was +disappointed by the calm way in which he took this marvelous revelation. +However, she went on to say: + +"Yes! a fortune left her, by a grand-uncle, a bachelor, who died +intestate in Wiltshire, England. Now, what do you think of that!" + +"Why, I think if she wouldn't have me when she was poor, she won't be +apt to do it now she's rich." + +"Ah! but you see, she don't know a word of it!" + +"How do you know it, then?" + +"Hish-ish! I'll tell you if you will never tell. Oh, Lord, no, you +mustn't indeed! You wouldn't, I know, 'cause it would ruin us! Listen--" + +"Now, Aunt Nancy, don't be letting me into any of your capital crimes +and hanging secrets--don't, because I don't want to hear them, and I +won't neither! I ain't used to such! and I'm afraid of them, too!" + +"'Fraid o' what? Nobody can prove it," answered Miss Nancy, a little +incoherently. + +"You know what better than I do, Aunt Nancy; and let me tell you, you'd +better be careful. The eyes of the community are upon you." + +"Let 'em prove it! Let 'em prove it! They ain't got no witnesses! +Chizzle and the cat ain't no witnesses," said Miss Nancy, obscurely; +"let 'em do their worse! I reckon I know something about law as well as +they do! if I am a lone 'oman!" + +"They can procure your removal from office without proving anything +against you except unpopularity." + +"That's Commodore Waugh's plan! the ugly, wicked, old buggaboo! 'Tain't +such great shakes of an office neither, the dear knows!" + +"Never mind, Aunt Nancy, mend your ways, and maybe they'll not disturb +you. And don't tell me any of your capital secrets, because I might be +summoned as a witness against you, which would not be so agreeable to my +feelings--yon understand! And now tell me, if you are absolutely certain +that Miss Mayfield has had that fortune left her. But stop! don't tell +me how you found it out!" + +"Well, yes, I am certain--sure, she has a great fortune left her. I have +the positive proofs of it. And, moreover, nobody in this country don't +know it but myself--and you. And now I tell you, don't hint the matter +to a soul. Be spry! dress yourself up jam! and go a courting before +anybody else finds it out!" + +"But that would scarcely be honorable either," demurred the doctor. + +"You're mighty particular! Yes, it would, too! Jest you listen to me! +Now if so be we were to go and publish about Marian's fortune, we'd have +a whole herd of fortune hunters, who don't care a cent for anything but +fortune, running after and worrying the life out of her, and maybe one +of them marrying of her, and spending of her money, and bringing of her +to poverty, and breaking of her heart. Whereas, if we keep the secret of +the estate to ourselves, you, who desarve her, because you 'counted her +all the same when she was poor, and who'd take good care of her +property, and her, too--would have her all to yourself, and nobody to +interfere. Don't you see?" + +"Well, to be sure--when one looks at the thing in this light," +deliberated the sorely-tempted lover. + +"Of course! And that's the only light to look at it in! Don't you see? +Why, by gracious! it seems to me as if we were doing Marian the greatest +favor." + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +AS A LAST RESORT. + + +In the meantime Marian's heart was weighed down by a new cause of sorrow +and anxiety. Thurston never approached her now, either in person or by +letter. She never saw him, except at the church, the lecture-room, or in +mixed companies, where he kept himself aloof from her and devoted +himself to the beautiful and accomplished heiress Angelica Le Roy, to +whom rumor gave him as an accepted suitor. + +So free was Marian's pure heart from jealousy or suspicion that these +attentions bestowed by Thurston, and these rumors circulated in the +neighborhood, gave her no uneasiness. For though she had, for herself, +discovered him to be passionate and impetuous, she believed him to be +sound in principle. But when again and again she saw them together, at +church, at lecture, at dinner parties, at evening dances; when at all +the Christmas and New Year festivities she saw her escorted by him; when +she saw him ever at her side with a devotion as earnest and ardent as it +was perfectly respectful; when she saw him bend and whisper to the +witching girl and hang delighted on her "low replies," her own +confidence was shaken. What could he mean? Was it possible that instead +of being merely impulsive and erring, he was deliberately wicked? No, +no, never! Yet, what could be his intentions? Did he really wish to win +Angelica's heart? Alas! whether he wished so or not, it was but too +evident to all that he had gained her preference. In her blushing cheek +and downcast eyes, and tremulous voice and embarrassed manner, when he +was present, in her abstracted mind, and restless air of wandering +glances when he was absent, the truth was but too clear. + +Marian was far too practical to speculate when she should act. It was +clearly her duty to speak to Thurston on the subject, and, repugnant as +the task was, she resolved to perform it. It was some time before she +had the opportunity. + +But at last, one afternoon in February, she chanced to meet Thurston on +the sea beach. After greeting him, she candidly opened the subject. She +spoke gently and delicately, but firmly and plainly--more so, perhaps, +than another woman in the same position would have done, for Marian was +eminently frank and fearless, especially where conscience was concerned. + + +And Thurston met her arguments with a graceful nonchalance, as seemingly +polite and good-humored as it was really ironical and insulting. + +Marian gave him time--she was patient as firm--and firm as sorrowful. +And until every argument and persuasion had failed, she said: + +"As a last resort, it may be necessary for me to warn Miss Le Roy--not +for my own sake. Were I alone involved, you know how much I would endure +rather than grieve you. But this young lady must not suffer wrong." + +"You will write her an anonymous letter, possibly?" + +"No--I never take an indirect road to an object." + +"What, then, can you do, fair saint?" + +"See Miss Le Roy, personally." + +"Ha! ha! ha! What apology could you possibly make for such an +unwarrantable interference?" + +"The Lord knoweth! I do not now. But I trust to be able to save her +without--revealing you." + +"Do you imagine that vague warnings would have any effect upon her?" + +"Coming from me they would." + +"Heavens! What a self-worshiper! But selfishness is your normal state, +Marian! Self-love is your only affection--self-adulation your only +enthusiasm--self-worship your only religion! You do not desire to be +loved--you wish only to be honored! The love I offered you, you trampled +underfoot! You have no heart, you have only a brain! You cannot love, +you only think! Nor have you any need of love, but only of power! +Applause is your vital breath, your native air! To hear your name and +praise on every tongue--that is your highest ambition! Such a woman +should be a gorgon of ugliness that men might not waste their hearts' +wealth upon her!" exclaimed Thurston, bitterly, gazing with murky eyes, +that smoldered with suppressed passion, upon the beautiful girl before +him. + +Marian was standing with her eyes fixed abstractedly upon a distant +sail. Now the tears swelled under the large white eyelids and hung +glittering on the level lashes, and her lip quivered and her voice +faltered slightly as she answered: + +"You see me through a false medium, dear Thurston, but the time will +come when you will know me as I am." + +"I fancy the time has come. It has also come for me to enlighten you a +little. And in the first place, fair queen of minds, if not of hearts, +let me assure you that there is a limit even to your almost universal +influence. And that limit may be found in Miss Le Roy. You, who know the +power of thought only, cannot weigh nor measure the power of love. Upon +Miss Le Roy your warnings would have no effect whatever. I tell you that +in the face of them (were I so disposed), I might lead that girl to the +altar to-morrow." + +Marian was silent, not deeming an answer called for. + +"And now, I ask you, how you could prevent it?" + +"I shall not be required to prevent such an act, Thurston, as such a one +never can take place. You speak so only to try your Marian's faith or +temper--both are proof against jests, I think. Hitherto you have trifled +with the young lady's affections for mere _ennui_ and thoughtlessness, I +do believe! but, now that some of the evil consequences have been +suggested to your mind, you will abandon such perilous pastime. You are +going to France soon--that will be a favorable opportunity of breaking +off the acquaintance." + +"And breaking her heart--who knows? But suppose now that I should prefer +to marry her and take her with me?" + +"Nay, of course, I cannot for an instant suppose such a thing." + +"But in spite of all your warnings, were such an event about to take +place?" + +"In such an exigency I should divulge our marriage." + +"You would?" + +"Assuredly! How can you possibly doubt it? Such an event would abrogate +my obligations to silence, and would impose upon me the opposite duty of +speaking." + +"I judged you would reason so," he said, bitterly. + +"But, dear Thurston, of what are you talking? Of the event of your doing +an unprincipled act! Impossible, dear Thurston! and forever impossible!" + +"And equally impossible, fair saint, that you should divulge our +marriage with any chance of proving it. Marian, the minister that +married us has sailed as a missionary to Farther India. And I only have +the certificate of our marriage. You cannot prove it." + +"I shall not need to prove it, Thurston. Now that I have awakened your +thoughts, I know that you will not further risk the peace of that +confiding girl. Come! take my hand and let us return. We must hasten, +too, for there is rain in that cloud." + +Thurston--piqued that he could not trouble her more--for under her calm +and unruffled face he could not see the bleeding heart--arose sullenly, +drew her hand within his arm and led her forth. + +And as they went the wind arose, and the storm clouds drove over the sky +and lowered and darkened around them. + +Marian urged him to walk fast on account of the approaching tempest, and +the anxiety the family at the cottage would feel upon her account. + +They hurried onward, but just as they reached the neighborhood of Old +Fields a terrible storm of hail and snow burst upon the earth. + +It was as much as they could do to make any progress forward, or even to +keep themselves upon their feet. While struggling and plunging blindly +through the storm, amid the rushing of the wind and the rattling of the +hail, and the crackling and creaking of the dry trees in the forest, and +the rush of waters, and all the din of the tempest, Marian's ear caught +the sound of a child wailing and sobbing. A pang shot through her heart. +She listened breathlessly--and then in the pauses of the storm she heard +a child crying, "Marian, Marian! Oh! where are you, Marian?" + +It was Miriam's voice! It was Miriam wandering in night and storm in +search of her beloved nurse. + +Marian dropped Thurston's arm and plunged blindly forward through the +snow, in the direction of the voice, crying, "Here I am, my darling, my +treasure--here I am. What brought my baby out this bitter night?" she +asked, as she found the child half perishing with cold and wet, and +caught and strained her to her bosom. + +"Oh, the hail and snow came down so fast, and the wind shook the house +so hard, and I could not sleep in the warm bed while you were out in the +storm. So I stole softly down to find you. Don't go again, Marian. I +love you so--oh! I love you so!" + +At this moment the child caught sight of Thurston standing with his face +half muffled in his cloak. A figure to be strangely recognized under +similar circumstances in after years. Then she did not know him, but +inquired: + +"Who is that, Marian?" + +"A friend, dear, who came home with me. Good-night, sir." + +And so dismissing Thurston, he walked rapidly away. She hurried with +Miriam to the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +ONE OF SANS SOUCI'S TRICKS. + + +Sans Souci stood before the parlor mirror, gazing into it, seeing--not +the reflected image of her own elfish figure, or pretty, witching face, +with its round, polished forehead, its mocking eyes, its sunny, dancing +curls, its piquant little nose, or petulant little lips--but +contemplating, as through a magic glass, far down the vista of her +childhood--childhood scarcely past, yet in its strong contrast to the +present, seeming so distant, dim, and unreal, that her reminiscence of +its days resembled more a vague dream of a pre-existence, than a +rational recollection of a part of her actual life on earth. Poor Jacko +was wondering "If I be I?" + +Grim sat in a leathern chair, at the farthest extremity of the room, +occupied with holding a book, but reading Jacquelina. Suddenly he broke +into her brown study by exclaiming: + +"I should like to know what you are doing, and how long you intend to +remain standing before that glass." + +"Oh, indeed! should you?" mocked Jacko, startled out of her reverie, yet +instantly remembering to be provoking. + +"What were you doing, and--" + +"Looking at myself in the glass, to be sure." + +"Don't cut off my question, if you please. I was going on to inquire of +what you were thinking so profoundly. And madam, or miss--" + +"Madam, if you please! the dear knows, I paid heavy enough for my new +dignity, and don't intend to abate one degree of it. So if you call me +miss again, I'll get some one who loves me to call you 'out!' Besides, +I'd have you to know, I'm very proud of it. Ain't you, too? Say, Grim! +ain't you a proud and happy man to be married?" asked Jacko, tauntingly. + +"You jibe! You do so with a purpose. But it shall not avail you. I +demand to know the subject of your thoughts as you stood before that +mirror." + +Now, none but a half madman like Grim would have gravely made such a +demand, or exposed himself to such a rebuff as it deserved. Jacko looked +at him quizzically. + +"Hem!" she answered, demurely. "I'm sure I'm so awestricken, your +worship, that I can scarcely find the use of my tongue to obey your +reverence. I hope your excellency won't be offended with me. But I was +wondering in general, whether the Lord really did make all the people +upon earth, and in particular, whether He made you, and if so, for what +inscrutable reason He did it." + +"You are an impertinent minion. But, by the saints, I will have an +answer to my question, and know what you were thinking of while gazing +in that mirror." + +"Sorry the first explanation didn't please your eminence. But now, +'honor bright!' I'll tell you truly what I was thinking of. I was +thinking--thinking how excessively pretty I am. Now, tell the truth, and +shame the old gentleman. Did you ever, in all your life, see such a +beautiful, bewitching, tantalizing, ensnaring face as mine is?" + +"I think I never saw such a fool!" + +"Really? Then your holiness never looked at yourself in a mirror! never +beheld 'your natural face in a glass!' never saw 'what manner of man' +you are." + +"By St. Peter! I will not be insulted, and dishonored, and defied in +this outrageous manner. I swear I will have your thoughts, if I have to +pluck them from your heart." + +"Whe-ew! Well, if I didn't always think thought was free, may I never be +an interesting young widow, and captivate Thurston Willcoxen." + +"You impudent, audacious, abandoned--" + +"Ching a ring a ring chum choo! And a hio ring tum larky!" + +sang the elf, dancing about, seizing the bellows and flourishing it over +her head like a tambourine, as she danced. + +"Be still, you termagant. Be still, you lunatic, or I'll have you put in +a strait-jacket!" cried the exasperated professor. + +"Poor fellow!" said Jacko, dropping the bellows and sidling up to him in +a wheedling, mock-sympathetic manner. "P-o-o-r f-e-l-l-o-w! don't get +excited and go into the highstrikes. You can't help it if you're ugly +and repulsive as Time in the Primer, any more than Thurston Willcoxen +can help being handsome and attractive as Magnus Apollo." + +"It was of him, then, you were thinking, minion? I knew it! I knew it!" +exclaimed the professor, starting up, throwing down his book, and pacing +the floor. + +"Bear it like a man!" said Jacko, with solemnity. + +"You admit it, then. You--you--you--" + +"'Unprincipled female.' There! I have helped you to the words. And now, +if you will be melo-dramatic, you should grip up your hair with both +hands, and stride up and down the floor and vociferate, 'Confusion! +distraction! perdition! or any other awful words you can think of. +That's the way they do it in the plays." + +"Madam, your impertinence is growing beyond sufferance. I cannot endure +it." + +"That's a mighty great pity, now, for you can't cure it." + +"St. Mary! I will bear this no longer." + +"Then I'm afraid you'll have to emigrate!" + +"I'll commit suicide." + +"That's you! Do! I should like very well to wear bombazine this cold +weather. Please do it at once, too, if you're going to, for I should +rather be out of deep mourning by midsummer!" + +"By heaven, I will pay you for this." + +"Any time at your convenience, Dr. Grimshaw! And I shall be ready to +give you a receipt in full upon the spot!" said the elf, rising. +"Anything else in my line this morning, Dr. Grimshaw? Give me a call +when you come my way! I shall be much obliged for your patronage," she +continued, curtseying and dancing off toward the door. "By the way, my +dear sir, there is a lecture to be delivered this evening by our gifted +young fellow-citizen, Mr. Thurston Willcoxen. Going to hear him? I am! +Good-day!" she said, and kissed her hand and vanished. + +Grim was going crazy! Everybody said it, and what everybody says has +ever been universally received as indisputable testimony. Many people, +indeed, averred that Grim never had been quite right--that he always had +been queer, and that since his mad marriage with that flighty bit of a +child, Jacquelina, he had been queerer than ever. + +He would have been glad to prevent Jacquelina from going to the lecture +upon the evening in question; but there was no reasonable excuse for +doing so. Everybody went to the lectures, which were very popular. Mrs. +Waugh made a point of being punctually present at every one. And she +took charge of Jacquelina, whenever the whim of the latter induced her +to go, which was as often as she secretly wished to "annoy Grim." And, +in fact, "to plague the Ogre" was her only motive in being present, for, +truth to tell, the elf cared very little either for the lecturer or his +subjects, and usually spent the whole evening in yawning behind her +pocket handkerchief. Upon this evening, however, the lecture fixed even +the flighty fancy of Jacquelina, as she sat upon the front seat between +Mrs. Waugh and Dr. Grimshaw. + +Jacquelina was magnetized, and scarcely took her eyes from the speaker +during the whole of the discourse. Mrs. Waugh was also too much +interested to notice her companions. Grim was agonized. The result of +the whole of which was--that after they all got home, Dr. Grimshaw--to +use a common but graphic phrase--"put his foot down" upon the resolution +to prevent Jacquelina's future attendance at the lectures. Whether he +would have succeeded in keeping her away is very doubtful, had not a +remarkably inclement season of weather set in, and lasted a fortnight, +leaving the roads nearly impassable for two other weeks. And just as +traveling was getting to be possible, Thurston Willcoxen was called to +Baltimore, on his grandfather's business, and was absent a fortnight. +So, altogether, six weeks had passed without Jacquelina's finding an +opportunity to defy Dr. Grimshaw by attending the lectures against his +consent. + +At the end of that time, on Sunday morning, it was announced in the +church that Mr. Willcoxen having returned to the county, would resume +his lectures on the Wednesday evening following. Dr. Grimshaw looked at +Jacquelina, to note how she would receive this news. Poor Jacko had been +under Marian's good influences for the week previous, and was, in her +fitful and uncertain way, "trying to be good." "As an experiment to +please you, Marian," she said, "and to see how it will answer." Poor +elf! So she called up no false, provoking smile of joy, to drive Grim +frantic, but heard the news of Thurston's arrival with the outward +calmness that was perfectly true to the perfect inward indifference. + +"She has grown guarded--that is a very bad sign--I shall watch her +closer," muttered Grim behind his closed teeth. And when the professor +went home that day, his keen, pallid face was frightful to look upon. +And many were the comments made by the dispersing congregation. + +From that Sunday to the following Wednesday, not one word was spoken of +Thurston Willcoxen or his lecture. But on Wednesday morning Dr. Grimshaw +entered the parlor, where Jacquelina lingered alone, gazing out of the +window, and going up to her side, astonished her beyond measure by +speaking in a calm, kind tone, and saying: + +"Jacquelina, you have been too much confined to the house lately. You +are languid. You must go out more. Mr. Willcoxen lectures this evening. +Perhaps you would like to hear him. If so, I withdraw my former +prohibition, which was, perhaps, too harsh, and I beg you will follow +your own inclinations, if they lead you to go." + +You should have seen Jacko's eyes and eyebrows! the former were dilated +to their utmost capacity, while the latter were elevated to their +highest altitude. The professor's eyebrows were knotted together, and +his eyes sought the ground, as he continued: + +"I myself have an engagement at Leonardtown this afternoon, which will +detain me all night, and therefore shall not be able to escort you; but +Mrs. Waugh, who is going, will doubtless take you under her charge. +Would you like to go?" + +"I had already intended to go," replied Jacquelina, without relaxing a +muscle of her face. + +The professor nodded and left the room. + +Soon after, Jacquelina sought her aunty, whom she found in the pantry, +mixing mince-meat. + +"I say, aunty--" + +"Well, Lapwing?" + +"When Satan turns saint, suspicion is safe, is it not?" + +"What do you mean, Lapwing?" + +"Why, just now the professor came to me, politely apologized for his +late rudeness, and proposed that I should go with you to hear Mr. +Willcoxen's lecture, while he, the professor, goes to Leonardtown to +fulfill an engagement. I say, aunty, I sniff a plot, don't you?" + +"I don't know what to make of it, Lapwing. Are you going?" + +"Of course I am; I always intended to." + +No more was said at the time. + +Immediately after dinner Dr. Grimshaw ordered his horse, and saying that +he was going to Leonardtown and should not be back till the next day, +set forth. + +And after an early tea, Mrs. Waugh and Jacquelina set out in the family +sleigh. A swift run over the hard, frozen snow brought them to Old +Fields, where they stopped a moment to pick up Marian, and then shooting +forward at the same rate of speed, they reached the lecture-room in full +time. + +Jacquelina was perhaps the very least enchanted of all his hearers--she +was, in fact, an exception, and found the discourse so entirely +uninteresting that it was with difficulty she could refrain from yawning +in the face of the orator. Mrs. Waugh also, perhaps, was but half +mesmerized, for her eyes would cautiously wander from the lecturer's +pulpit to the side window on her right hand. At length she stooped and +whispered to Jacquelina: + +"Child, be cautious; Dr. Grimshaw is on the ground--I have seen his face +rise up to that lower pane of glass at the corner of that window, +several times. He must be crouched down on the outside." + +Jacquelina gave a little start of surprise--her face underwent many +phases of expression; she glanced furtively at the indicated window, and +there she saw a pale, wild face gleam for an instant against the glass, +and then drop. She nodded her head quickly, muttering: + +"Oh, I'll pay him!" + +"Don't child! don't do anything imprudent, for gracious' sake! That man +is crazy--any one can see he is!" + +"Oh, aunty, I'll be sure to pay him! He shan't be in my debt much +longer. Soft, aunty! Don't look toward the window again! Don't let him +perceive that we see him or suspect him--and then, you'll see what +you'll see. I have a counter plot." + +This last sentence was muttered to herself by Jacquelina, who thereupon +straightened herself up--looked the lecturer in the eyes--and gave her +undevoted attention to him during the rest of the evening. There was not +a more appreciating and admiring hearer in the room than Jacquelina +affected to be. Her face was radiant, her eyes starry, her cheeks +flushed, her pretty lips glowing breathlessly apart--her whole form +instinct with enthusiasm. Any one might have thought the little creature +bewitched. But the fascinating orator need not have flattered +himself--had he but known it--Jacquelina neither saw his face nor heard +his words; she was seeing pictures of Grim's bitter jealousy, +mortification and rage, as he beheld her from his covert; she was +rehearsing scenes of what she meant to do to him. And when at last she +forgot herself, and clapped her hand enthusiastically, it was not at the +glorious peroration of the orator--but at the perfection of her own +little plot! + +When the lecturer had finished, and as usual announced the subject and +the time of the next lecture, Jacquelina, instead of rising with the +mass of the audience, showed a disposition to retain her seat. + +"Come, my dear, I am going," said Mrs. Waugh. + +"Wait, aunty, I don't like to go in a crowd." + +Mrs. Waugh waited while the people pressed toward the outer doors. + +"I wonder whether the professor will wait and join us when we return +home?" said Mrs. Waugh. + +"We shall see," said Jacquelina. "I wish he may. I believe he will. I am +prepared for such an emergency." + +In the meantime, Thurston Willcoxen had descended from the platform, and +was shaking hands right and left with the few people who had lingered to +speak to him. Then he approached Mrs. Waugh's party, bowed, and +afterward shook hands with each member of it, only retaining Marian's +hand the fraction of a minute longest, and giving it an earnest pressure +in relinquishing it. Then he inquired after the health of the family at +Luckenough, commented upon the weather, the state of the crops, etc., +and with a valedictory bow withdrew, and followed the retreating crowd. + +"I think we can also go now," said Mrs. Waugh. + +"Yes," said Jacquelina, rising. + +Upon reaching the outside, they found old Oliver, with the sleigh drawn +up to receive them. Jacquelina looked all around, to see if she could +discover Thurston Willcoxen on the grounds; and not seeing him anywhere, +she persuaded herself that he must have hastened home. But she saw Dr. +Grimshaw, recognized him, and at the same time could but notice the +strong resemblance in form and manner that he bore to Thurston +Willcoxen, when it was too dark to notice the striking difference in +complexion and expression. Dr. Grimshaw approached her, keeping his +cloak partially lifted to his face, as if to defend it from the wind, +but probably to conceal it. Then the evil spirit entered Jacquelina, and +tempted her to sidle cautiously up to the professor, slip her arm +through his arm, and whisper: + +"Thurston! Come! Jump in the sleigh and go home with us. We shall have +such a nice time! Old Grim has gone to Leonardtown, and won't be home +till to-morrow!" + +"Has he, minion? By St. Judas! you are discovered now! I have now full +evidence of your turpitude. By all the saints! you shall answer for it +fearfully," said the professor, between his clenched teeth, as he closed +his arm upon Jacquelina's arm and dragged her toward the sleigh. + +"Ha! ha! ha! Oh! well, I don't care! If I mistook you for Thurston, it +is not the first mistake I ever made about you. I mistook you once +before for a man!" said Jacko, defiantly. + +He thrust her into the sleigh already occupied by Mrs. Waugh and Marian, +jumped in after her, and took the seat by her side. + +"Why, I thought that you set out for Leonardtown this afternoon, Dr. +Grimshaw!" said Mrs. Waugh, coldly. + +"You may have jumped to other conclusions equally false and dangerous, +madam!" + +"What do you mean, sir?" + +"I mean, madam, that in conniving at the perfidy of this unprincipled +girl, your niece, you imagined that you were safe. It was an error. You +are both discovered!" said the professor, doggedly. + +Henrietta was almost enraged. + +"Dr. Grimshaw," she said, "nothing but self-respect prevents me from +ordering you from this sleigh!" + +"I advise you to let self-respect, or any other motive you please, still +restrain you, madam. I remain here as the warden of this pretty +creature's person, until she is safely secured." + +"You will at least be kind enough to explain to us the causes of your +present words and actions, sir!" said Mrs. Waugh, severely. + +"Undoubtedly, madam! Having, as I judged, just reasons for doubting the +integrity of your niece, and more than suspecting her attachment to Mr. +Willcoxen, I was determined to test both. Therefore, instead of going to +Leonardtown, to be absent till to-morrow, I came here, posted myself at +a favorable point for observation, and took notes. While here, I saw +enough to convince me of Jacquelina's indiscretions. Afterward leaving +the spot with lacerated feelings I drew near her. She mistook me for her +lover, thrust her arm through mine, and said, 'Dear Thurston, come home +with me--'" + +"Oh! you shocking old fye-for-shame! I said no such thing! I said, +Thurston! Come! Jump in the sleigh and go home with us.'" + +"It makes little difference, madam! The meaning was the same. I will not +be responsible for a literal report. You are discovered." + +"What does that mean? If it means you have discovered that I mistook you +for Thurston Willcoxen, you ought to 'walk on thrones' the rest of your +life! You never got such a compliment before, and never will again!" + +"Aye! go on, madam! You and your conniving aunt--" + +"Dr. Grimshaw, if you dare to say or hint such impertinence to me again, +you shall leave your seat much more quickly than you took it," said Mrs. +Waugh. + +"We shall see, madam!" said the professor, and he lapsed into sullenness +for the remainder of the drive. + +But, oh! there was one in that sleigh upon whose heart the words of wild +Jacko had fallen with cruel weight-Marian! + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +PETTICOAT DISCIPLINE. + + +When the sulky sleighing party reached Luckenough they found Commodore +Waugh not only up and waiting, but in the highest state of +self-satisfaction, a blessing of which they received their full share of +benefit, for the old man, in the overflowing of his joy, had ordered an +oyster supper, which was now all ready to be served smoking hot to the +chilled and hungry sleigh-riders. + +"I wonder what's out now?" said Jacquelina, as she threw off her +wrappings, scattering them heedlessly on the chairs and floor of the +hall. "Some awful calamity has overtaken some of Uncle Nick's enemies. +Nothing on earth but that ever puts him into such a jolly humor. Now +we'll see! I wonder if it is a 'crowner's 'quest' case? Wish it was +Grim." + +Mrs. Henrietta blessed her stars for the good weather, without inquiring +very closely where it came from, as she conducted Marian to a bedroom +to lay off her bonnet and mantle. + +It was only at the foot of his own table, after ladling out and serving +around the stewed oysters "hot and hot," that the commodore, rubbing his +hands, and smiling until his great face was as grotesque as a +nutcracker's, announced that Miss Nancy Skamp was turned out of +office--yea, discrowned, unsceptred, dethroned, and that Harry Barnwell +reigned in her stead. The news had come in that evening's mail! All +present breathed more freely--all felt an inexpressible relief in +knowing that the post-office would henceforth be above suspicion, and +their letters and papers safe from, desecration. Only Marian said: + +"What will become of the poor old creature?" + +"By St. Judas Iscariot, that's her business." + +"No, indeed, I think it is ours; some provision should be made for her, +Commodore Waugh." + +"I'll recommend her to the trustees of the almshouse, Miss Mayfield." + +Marian thought it best not to pursue the subject then, but resolved to +embrace the first opportunity of appealing to the commodore's smothered +chivalry in behalf of a woman, old, poor, feeble, and friendless. + +During the supper Dr. Grimshaw sat up as stiff and solemn--Jacquelina +said--"as if he'd swallowed the poker and couldn't digest it." When they +rose from the table, and were about leaving the dining-room, Dr. +Grimshaw glided in a funereal manner to the side of the commodore, and +demanded a private interview with him. + +"Not to-night, Nace! Not to-night! I know by your looks what it is! It +is some new deviltry of Jacquelina's. That can wait! I'm as sleepy as a +whole cargo of opium! I would not stop to talk now to Paul Jones, if he +was to rise from the dead and visit me!" + +And the professor had to be content with that, for almost immediately +the family separated for the night. + +Marian, attended by the maid Maria, sought the chamber assigned to +herself. When she had changed her tight-fitting day-dress for a wrapper, +she dismissed the girl, locked the door behind her, and then drew her +chair up before the little fire, and fell into deep thought. Many causes +of anxiety pressed heavily upon Marian. That Thurston had repented his +hasty marriage with herself she had every reason to believe. + +She had confidently hoped that her explanation with Thurston would have +resulted in good--but, alas! it seemed to have had little effect. His +attentions to Miss Le Roy were still unremitted--the young lady's +partiality was too evident to all--and people already reported them to +be engaged. + +And now, as Marian sat by her little wood-fire in her chamber at +Luckenough, bitter, sorrowful questions, arose in her mind. Would he +persist in his present course? No, no, it could not be! This was +probably done only to pique herself; but then it was carried too far; it +was ruining the peace of a good, confiding girl. And Jacquelina--she had +evidently mistaken Dr. Grimshaw for Thurston, and addressed to him words +arguing a familiarity very improper, to say the least of it. Could he be +trifling with poor Jacquelina, too? Jacko's words when believing herself +addressing Thurston, certainly denoted some such "foregone conclusions." +Marian resolved to see Thurston once more--once more to expostulate with +him, if happily it might have some good effect. And having formed this +resolution, she knelt and offered up her evening prayers, and retired to +bed. + +The next day being Holy Thursday, there was, by order of the trustees, a +holiday at Miss Mayfield's school. And so Marian arose with the prospect +of spending the day with Jacquelina. When she descended to the +breakfast-room, what was her surprise to find Thurston Willcoxen, at +that early hour, the sole occupant of the room. He wore a green shooting +jacket, belted around his waist. He stood upon the hearth with his back +to the fire, his gun leaned against the corner of the mantle-piece, and +his game-bag dropped at his feet. Marian's heart bounded, and her cheek +and eye kindled when she saw him, and, for the instant, all her doubts +vanished--she could not believe that guilt lurked behind a countenance +so frank, noble and calm as his. He stepped forward to meet her, +extending his hand. She placed her own in it, saying: + +"I am very glad to see you this morning, dear Thurston, for I have +something to say to you which I hope you will take kindly from your +Marian, who has no dearer interest in the world than your welfare." + +"Marian, if it is anything relating to our old subject of dispute--Miss +Le Roy--let me warn you that I will hear nothing about it." + +"Thurston, the subjects of a neighborhood's gossip are always the very +last to hear it! You do not, perhaps, know that it is commonly reported +that you and Miss Le Roy are engaged to be married!" + +"And you give a ready ear and ready belief to such injurious slanders!" + +"No! Heaven knows that I do not! I will not say that my heart has not +been tortured--fully as much as your own would have been, dear +Thurston, had the case been reversed, and had I stooped to receive from +another such attentions as you have bestowed upon Miss Le Roy. But, upon +calm reflection, I fully believe that you could never give that young +lady my place in your heart, that having known and loved me--" + +Marian paused, but the soul rose like a day-star behind her beautiful +face, lighting serenely under her white eyelids, glowing softly on the +parted lips and blooming cheeks. + +"Ay! 'having known and loved me!' There again spoke the very enthusiasm +of self-worship! But how know you, Marian, that I do not find such +regnant superiority wearisome?--that I do not find it refreshing to sit +down quietly beside a lower, humbler nature, whose greatest faculty is +to love, whose greatest need to be loved!" + +"How do I know it? By knowing that higher nature of yours, which you now +ignore. Yet it is not of myself that I wish to speak, but of her. +Thurston, you pursue that girl for mere pastime, I am sure--with no +ulterior evil purpose, I am certain; yet, Thurston!" she said, +involuntarily pressing her hand tightly upon her own bosom, "I know how +a woman may love you, and that may be death or madness to Angelica, +which is only whim and amusement to you. And, Thurston, you must go no +further with this culpable trifling--you must promise me to see her no +more!" + +"'Must!' Upon my soul! you take state upon yourself, fair queen!" + +"Thurston, a higher authority than mine speaks by my lips--it is the +voice of Right! You will regard it. You will give me that promise!" + +"And if I do not--" + +"Oh! there is no time to argue with you longer--some one is coming--I +must be quick. It is two weeks, Thurston, since I first urged this upon +you; I have hesitated already too long, and now I tell you, though my +heart bleeds to say it, that unless you promise to see Angelica no more, +I will see and have an explanation with her to-morrow!" + +"You will!" + +"You can prevent it, dearest Thurston, by yourself doing what you know +to be right." + +"And if I do not?" + +"I will see Miss Le Roy, to-morrow!" + +"By heaven, then--" + +His words were suddenly cut short by the entrance of Mrs. Waugh. In an +instant his countenance changed, and taking up his bag of game, he went +to meet the smiling, good humored woman, saying with a gay laugh: + +"Good-morning, Mrs. Waugh! You see I have been shooting in the woods of +Luckenough this morning, and I could not leave the premises without +offering this tribute to their honored mistress." + +And Thurston gayly laid the trophy at her feet. + +"Hebe! will you please to see that a cup of hot coffee is sent up to +Mrs. L'Oiseau; she is unwell this morning, as I knew she would be, from +her excitement last night; or go with it yourself, Hebe! The presence of +the goddess of health at her bedside is surely needed." + +Marian left the room, and then Mrs. Waugh, turning to the young +gentleman, said: + +"Thurston, I am glad to have this opportunity of speaking to you, for I +have something very particular to say, which you must hear without +taking offense at your old aunty!" + +"Humph! I am in for petticoat discipline this morning, beyond a doubt," +thought the young man; but he only bowed, and placed a chair for Mrs. +Waugh. + +"I shall speak very plainly, Thurston." + +"Oh! by all means! As plainly as you please, Mrs. Waugh," said Thurston, +with an odd grimace; "I am growing accustomed to have ladies speak very +plainly to me." + +"Well! it won't do you any harm, Thurston. And now to the point! I told +you before, that you must not show any civility to Jacquelina. And now I +repeat it! And I warn you that if you do, you will cause some frightful +misfortune that you will have to repent all the days of your life--if it +be not fatal first of all to yourself. I do assure you that old Grimshaw +is mad with jealousy. He can no longer be held responsible for his +actions. And in short, you must see Jacquelina no more!" + +"Whe-ew! a second time this morning! Come! I'm getting up quite the +reputation of a lady-killer!" thought the young man. Then with a light +laugh, he looked up to Mrs. Waugh, and said: + +"My dear madam, do you take me for a man who would willingly disturb the +peace or honor of a family?" + +"Pshaw! By no means, my dear Thurston. Of course I know it's all the +most ridiculous nonsense!" + +"Well! By the patience of Job, I do think--" + +Again Thurston's words were suddenly cut short, by the entrance of--the +commodore, who planted his cane down with his usual emphatic force, and +said: + +"Oh, sir! You here! I am very glad of it! There is a little matter to be +discussed between you and me! Old Hen! leave us! vanish! evaporate!" + +Henrietta was well pleased to do so. And as she closed the door the +commodore turned to Thurston, and with another emphatic thump of his +cane, said: + +"Well, sir! a small craft is soon rigged, and a short speech soon made. +In two words, how dare you, sir! make love to Jacquelina?" + +"My dear uncle--" + +"By Neptune, sir; don't 'uncle' me. I ask you how you dared to make love +to my niece?" + +"Sir, you mistake, she made love to me." + +"You impudent, impertinent, unprincipled jackanape." + +"Come," said Thurston to himself, "I have got into a hornet's nest this +morning." + +"I shall take very good care, sir, to have Major Le Roy informed what +sort of a gentleman it is who is paying his addresses to his daughter." + +"Miss Le Roy will be likely to form a high opinion of me before this +week is out," said Thurston, laughing. + +"You--you--you graceless villain, you," cried the commodore in a +rage--"to think that I had such confidence in you, sir; defended you +upon all occasions, sir; refused to believe in your villainy, sir; +refused to close my doors against you, sir. Yes, sir; and should have +continued to do so, but for last night's affair." + +"Last night's affair! I protest, sir, I do not in the least understand +you?" + +"Oh! you don't. You don't understand that after the lecture last +evening, in leaving the place, Jacquelina thrust her arm through +yours--no; I mean through Grim's, mistaking him for you, and said--what +she never would have said, had there not been an understanding between +you." + +Thurston's face was now the picture of astonishment and perplexity. The +commodore seemed to mistake it for a look of consternation and detected +guilt, for he continued: + +"And now, sir, I suppose you understand what is to follow. Do you see +that door? It leads straight into the hall, which leads directly through +the front portal out into the lawn, and on to the highway--that is your +road, sir. Good-morning." + +And the commodore thumped down his stick and left the room--the image of +righteous indignation. + +Thurston nodded, smiled slightly, drew his tablets from his pocket, tore +a leaf out, took his pencil, laid the paper upon the corner of the +mantel-piece, wrote a few lines, folded the note, and concealed it in +his hand as the door opened, and admitted Mrs. Waugh, Marian and +Jacquelina. There was a telegraphic glance between the elder lady and +the young man. + +That of Mrs. Waugh said: + +"Do have pity on the fools, and go, Thurston." + +That of Thurston said: + +"I am going, Mrs. Waugh, and without laughing, if I can help it." + +Then he picked up his shooting cap, bowed to Jacquelina, shook hands +with Mrs. Waugh, and pressing Marian's palm, left within it the note +that he had written, took up his game bag and gun, and departed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +SANS SOUCI'S LAST FUN. + + +"The inconceivable idiots!" said Thurston, as he strode on through the +park of Luckenough, "to fancy that any one with eyes, heart and brain, +could possibly fall in love with the 'Will-o'-the-wisp' Jacquelina, or +worse, that giglet, Angelica; when he sees Marian! Marian, whose least +sunny tress is dearer to me than are all the living creatures in the +world besides. Marian, for whose possession I am now about to risk +everything, even her own esteem. Yet, she will forgive me; I will earn +her forgiveness by such devoted love." + +He hurried on until he reached an outer gate, through which old Oliver +was driving a cart loaded with wood. As if to disencumber himself, he +threw his game bag and valuable fowling piece to the old man, saying: + +"There, uncle; there's a present for you," and without waiting to hear +his thanks, hurried on, leaping hedges and ditches, until he came to the +spot where he had left his horse tied since the morning. Throwing +himself into his saddle, he put spurs to his horse, and galloped away +toward the village, nor drew rein until he reached a little tavern on +the water side. He threw his bridle to an hostler in waiting, and +hurrying in, demanded to be shown into a private room. The little parlor +was placed at his disposal. Here, for form's sake, he called for the +newspaper, cigars and a bottle of wine (none of which he discussed, +however), dismissed the attendant, and sat waiting. + +Presently the odor of tar, bilge water, tobacco and rum warned him that +his expected visitor was approaching. And an instant after the door was +opened, and a short, stout, dark man in a weather-proof jacket, duck +trousers, cow-hide shoes, and tarpaulin hat entered. + +"Well, Miles, I've been waiting for you here more than an hour," said +Thurston, impatiently. + +"Ay, ay, sir--all right. I've been cruising round, reconnoitering the +enemy's coast," replied the man, removing the quid of tobacco from his +mouth, and reluctantly casting it into the fire. + +"You are sure you know the spot?" + +"Ay, ay? sir--the beach just below the Old Fields farmhouse." + +"And south of the Pine Bluff." + +"Ay, ay, sir. I know the port--that ain't the head wind!" said Jack +Miles, pushing up the side of his hat, and scratching his head with a +look of doubt and hesitation. + +"What is, then, you blockhead?" asked Thurston, impatiently; "is your +hire insufficient?" + +"N-n-n--yes--I dunno! You see, cap'n, if I wer' cock sure, as that 'ere +little craft you want carried of wer' yourn." + +"Hush! don't talk so loud. You're not at sea in a gale, you fool. Well, +go on. Speak quickly and speak lower." + +"I wer' gwine to say, if so be I wer' sure you wer' the cap'n of her, +why then it should be plain sailing, with no fog around, and no breakers +ahead." + +"Well! I am, you fool. She is mine--my wife." + +"Well, but, cap'n," said the speaker, still hesitating, "if so be that's +the case, why don't she strike her colors to her rightful owner? Why +don't you take command in open daylight, with the drums a-beating, and +the flags a-flying? What must you board her like a pirate in this way +fur? I've been a-thinkin' on it, and I think it's dangerous steering +along this coast. You see it's all in a fog; I can't make out the land +nowhere, and I'm afraid I shall be on the rocks afore I knows it. You +see, cap'n, I never wer' in such a thick mist since I first went to sea. +No offense to you, cap'n!" + +"Oh, none in the world! No skillful pilot will risk his vessel in a fog. +But I have a certain golden telescope of magic powers. It enables you to +see clearly through the thickest mist, the darkest night that ever fell. +I will give it to you. In other words, I promised you five hundred +dollars for this job. Come, accomplish it to-night, and you shall have a +thousand. Is the mist lifting?" + +"I think it is, cap'n! I begin to see land." + +"Very well! now, is your memory as good as your sight? Do you recollect +the plan?" + +"Ay, ay, sir." + +"Just let me hear you go over it." + +"I'm to bring the vessel round, and lay to about a quarter of a mile o' +the coast. At dusk I'm to put off in a skiff and row to Pine Bluff, and +lay under its shadow till I hear your signal. Then I'm to put to shore +and take in the--the--" + +"The cargo." + +"Ay, ay, sir, the cargo." + +Leaving the two conspirators to improve and perfect their plot, we must +return to the breakfast parlor at Luckenough. The family were assembled +around the table. Dr. Grimshaw's dark, sombre and lowering looks, enough +to have spread a gloom over any circle, effectually banished +cheerfulness from the board. Marian had had no opportunity of reading +her note--she had slipped it into her pocket But as soon as breakfast +was over, amid the bustle of rising from the table, Marian withdrew to a +window and glanced over the lines. + +"My own dearest one, forgive my haste this morning. I regret the +necessity of leaving so abruptly. I earnestly implore you to see me once +more--upon the beach, near the Pine Bluffs, this evening at dusk. I have +something of the utmost importance to say to you." + +She hastily crumpled the note, and thrust it into her pocket just as +Jacquelina's quizzical face looked over her shoulder. + +"You're going to stay all day with me, Marian?" + +"Yes, love--that is, till after dinner. Then I shall have to beg of Mrs. +Waugh the use of the carriage to go home." + +"Well, then, I will ride with you, Marian, and return in the carriage." + +All the company, with the exception of Mrs. Waugh, Marian and +Jacquelina, had left the breakfast-room. + +Mrs. Waugh was locking her china closet, and when she had done, she took +her bunch of keys, and turning to Marian, said: + +"Hebe, dear, I want you to go with me and see poor old Cracked Nell. She +is staying in one of our quarters. I think she has not long to live, and +I want you to talk to her." + +"Now?" + +"Yes, dear, I am going to carry her some breakfast. So, come along, and +get your mantle," said the good woman, passing out through the door. + +Marian followed, drawing out her pocket handkerchief to tie over her +head; and as she did so, the note, unperceived by her, fluttered out, +and fell upon the carpet. + +Jacquelina impulsively darted upon it, picked it up, opened, and read +it. Had Jacquelina first paused to reflect, she would never have done +so. But when did the elf ever stop to think? As she read, her eyes began +to twinkle, and her feet to patter up and down, and her head to sway +from side to side, as if she could scarcely keep from singing and +dancing for glee. + +"Well, now, who'd a thought it! Thurston making love to Marian! And +keeping the courtship close, too, for fear of the old miser. Lord, but +look here! This was not right of me? Am I a pocket edition of Miss Nancy +Skamp! Forbid it, Titania, Queen of the Fairies! But I didn't steal +it--I found it! And I must, oh! must plague Grim a little with this! +Forgive me, Marian, but for the life and soul of me, I can't help +keeping this to plague Grim! You see, I promised to pay him when he +charged me with swallowing an assignation, and now if I don't pay him, +if I don't make him perspire till he faints, my name is not Mrs. +Professor Grimshaw! Let's see! What shall I do! Oh! Why, can't I pretend +to lose it, just as Marian lost it, and drop it where he'll find it? I +have it! Eureka!" soliloquized the dancing elf, as she placed her +handkerchief in the bottom of her pocket, and the note on top of it, and +passed on to the drawing-room to "bide her time." + +That soon came. She found the professor and the commodore standing in +the middle of the room, in an earnest conversation, which, however, +seemed near its close, for as she took her seat, the commodore said: + +"Very well--I'll attend to it, Nace," and clapped his hat upon his head, +and went out, while the professor dropped himself into a chair, and took +up a book. + +"Oh, stop, I want to speak to you a minute, uncle." cried Jacquelina, +starting up and flying after him, and as she flew, pulling out her +handkerchief and letting the note drop upon the floor. A swift, sly, +backward glance showed that Grim had pounced upon it like a panther on +its prey. + +"What in the d----l's name are you running after me for?" burst forth +the old man as Jacko overtook him. + +"Why, uncle, I want to know if you'll please to give orders in the +stable to have the carriage wheels washed off nicely? They neglect it. +And I and Marian want to use it this afternoon." + +"Go to the deuce! Is that my business?" + +Jacquelina laughed; and, quivering through every fibre of her frame with +mischief, went back into the drawing-room to see the state of Grim. + +To Jacquelina's surprise she found the note lying upon the same spot +where she had dropped it. Dr. Grimshaw was standing with his back toward +her, looking out of the window. She could not see the expression of his +countenance. She stooped and picked up the note, but had scarcely +replaced it in her pocket before Dr. Grimshaw abruptly turned, walked up +and stood before her and looked in her face. Jacquelina could scarcely +suppress a scream; it was as if a ghost had come before her, so blanched +was his color, so ghastly his features. An instant he gazed into her +eyes, and then passed out and went up-stairs. Jacquelina turned slowly +around, looking after him like one magnetized. Then recovering herself, +with a deep breath she said: + +"Now I ask of all the 'powers that be' generally, what's the meaning of +that? He picked up the note and he read it; that's certain. And he +dropped it there again to make me believe he had never seen it; that's +certain, too. I wonder what he means to do! There'll be fun of some +sort, anyway! Stop! here comes Marian from the quarters. I shouldn't +wonder if she has missed her note, and hurried back in search of it. +Come! I'll take a hint from Grim, and drop it where I found it, and say +nothing." + +And so soliloquizing, the fairy glided back into the breakfast-room, let +the note fall, and turned away just in time to allow Marian to enter, +glance around, and pick up her lost treasure. Then joining Marian, she +invited her up-stairs to look at some new finery just come from the city. + +The forenoon passed heavily at Luckenough. When the dinner hour +approached, and the family collected in the dining-room, Dr. Grimshaw +was missing; and when a messenger was sent to call him to dinner, an +answer was returned that the professor was unwell, and preferred to keep +his room. + +Jacquelina was quivering between fun and fear--vague, unaccountable +fear, that hung over her like a cloud, darkening her bright frolic +spirit with a woeful presentiment. + +After dinner Marian asked for the carriage, and Mrs. Waugh gave orders +that it should be brought around for her use. Jacquelina prepared to +accompany Marian home, and in an hour they were ready, and set forth. + +"You may tell Grim, if he asks after me, that I am gone home with Marian +to Old Fields, and that I am not certain whether I shall return to-night +or not," said Jacquelina, as she took leave of Mrs. Waugh. + +"My dear Lapwing, if you love your old aunty, come immediately back in +the carriage. And, by the way, my dear, I wish you would, either in +going or coming, take the post-office, and get the letters and papers," +said Mrs. Waugh. + +"Let it be in going, then, Mrs. Waugh, for I have not been to the +post-office for two days, and there may be something there for us also," +said Marian. + +"Very well, bright Hebe; as you please, of course," replied good +Henrietta. + +And so they parted. Did either dream how many suns would rise and set, +how many seasons come and go, how many years roll by, before the two +should meet again? + +The carriage was driven rapidly on to the village, and drawn up at the +post-office. Old Oliver jumped down, and went in to make the necessary +inquiries. They waited impatiently until he reappeared, bringing one +large letter. There was nothing for Luckenough. + +The great double letter was for Marian. She took it, and as the carriage +was started again, and drawn toward Old Fields, she examined the +post-mark and superscription. It was a foreign letter, mailed from +London, and superscribed in the handwriting of her oldest living friend, +the pastor who had attended her brother in his prison and at the scene +of his death. + +Marian, with tearful eyes and eager hands, broke the seal and read, +while Jacquelina watched her. For more than half an hour Jacko watched +her, and then impatience overcame discretion in the bosom of the fairy, +and she suddenly exclaimed: + +"Well, Marian! I do wonder what can ail you? You grow pale, and then you +grow red; your bosom heaves, the tears come in your eyes, you clasp your +hands tightly together as in prayer, then you smile and raise your eyes +as in thanksgiving! Now, I do wonder what it all means?" + +"It means, dear Jacquelina, that I am the most grateful creature upon +the face of the earth, just now; and to-morrow I will tell you why I am +so," said Marian, with a rosy smile. And well she might be most grateful +and most happy, for that letter had brought her assurance of fortune +beyond her greatest desires. On reading the news, her very first thought +had been of Thurston. Now the great objection of the miser to their +marriage would be removed--the great obstacle to their immediate union +overcome. Thurston would be delivered from temptation; she would be +saved anxiety and suspense. "Yes; I will meet him this evening; I cannot +keep this blessed news from him a day longer than necessary, for this +fortune that has come to me will all be his own! Oh, how rejoiced I am +to be the means of enriching him! How much good we can both do!" + +These were the tumultuous, generous thoughts that sent the flush to +Marian's cheeks, the smiles to her lips, and the tears to her eyes; that +caused those white fingers to clasp, and those clear eyes to rise to +Heaven in thankfulness, as she folded up her treasured letter and placed +it in her bosom. + +An hour's ride brought them to Old Field Cottage. The sun had not yet +set, but the sky was dark with clouds that threatened rain or snow; and +therefore Jacquelina only took time to jump out and speak to Edith, +shake hands with old Jenny, kiss Miriam, and bid adieu to Marian; and +then, saying that she believed she would hurry back on her aunty's +account, and that she was afraid she would not get to Luckenough before +ten o'clock, anyhow, she jumped into the carriage and drove off. + +And Marian, guarding her happy secret, entered the cottage to make +preparations for keeping her appointment with Thurston. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile, at Luckenough, Dr. Grimshaw kept his room until late in the +afternoon. Then, descending the stairs, and meeting the maid Maria, who +almost shrieked aloud at the ghastly face that confronted her, he asked: + +"Where is Mrs. Grimshaw?" + +"Lord, sir!" cried the girl, half paralyzed by the sound of his +sepulchral voice, "she's done gone home 'long o' Miss Marian." + +"When will she be back, do you know?" + +"Lord, sir!" cried Maria, shuddering, "I heerd her tell old Mis', how +she didn't think she'd be back to-night." + +"Ah!" said the unhappy man, in a hollow tone, that seemed to come from a +tomb, as he passed down. + +And Maria, glad to escape him, fled up-stairs, and never paused until +she had found refuge in Mrs. L'Oiseau's room. + +One hour after that, Professor Grimshaw, closely enveloped in an ample +cloak, left Luckenough, and took the road to the beach. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +NIGHT AND STORM. + + +The heavens were growing very dark; the wind was rising and driving +black clouds athwart the sky; the atmosphere was becoming piercingly +cold; the snow, that during the middle of the day had thawed, was +freezing hard. Yet Marian hurried fearlessly and gayly on over the +rugged and slippery stubble fields that lay between the cottage and the +beach. A rapid walk of fifteen minutes brought her down to the water's +edge. But it was now quite dark. Nothing could be more deserted, lonely +and desolate than the aspect of this place. From her feet the black +waters spread outward, till their utmost boundaries were lost among the +blacker vapors of the distant horizon. Afar off a sail, dimly seen or +guessed at, glided ghost-like through the shadows. Landward, the +boundaries of field and forest, hill and vale, were all blended, fused, +in murky obscurity. Heavenward, the lowering sky was darkened by wild, +scudding, black clouds, driven by the wind, through which the young moon +seemed plunging and hiding as in terror. The tide was coming in, and the +waves surged heavily with a deep moan upon the beach. Not a sound was +heard except the dull, monotonous moan of the sea, and the fitful, +hollow wail of the wind. The character of the scene was in the last +degree wild, dreary, gloomy and fearful. Not so, however, it seemed to +Marian, who, filled with happy, generous and tumultuous thoughts, was +scarcely conscious of the gathering darkness and the lowering storm, as +she walked up and down upon the beach, listening and waiting. She +wondered that Thurston had not been there ready to receive her; but this +thought gave her little uneasiness; it was nearly lost, as the storm and +darkness also were, in the brightness and gladness of her own loving, +generous emotions. There was no room in her heart for doubt or trouble. +If the thought of the morning's conversation and of Angelica entered her +mind, it was only to be soon dismissed with fair construction and +cheerful hope. And then she pictured to herself the surprise, the +pleasure of Thurston, when he should hear of the accession of fortune +which should set them both free to pursue their inclinations and plans +for their own happiness and for the benefit of others. And she sought in +her bosom if the letters were safe. Yes; there they were; she felt them. +Her happiness had seemed a dream without that proof of its reality. For +once she gave way to imagination, and allowed that magician to build +castles in the air at will. Thurston and herself must go to England +immediately to take possession of the estate; that was certain. Then +they must return. But ere that she would confide to him her darling +project; one that she had never breathed to any, because to have done so +would have been vain; one that she had longingly dreamed of, but never, +as now, hoped to realize. And Edith--she would make Edith so +comfortable! Edith should be again surrounded with the elegancies and +refinements of life. And Miriam--Miriam should have every advantage of +education that wealth could possibly secure for her, either in this +country or in Europe. If Edith would spare Miriam, the little girl +should go with her to England. But Thurston--above all, Thurston! A +heavy drop of rain struck Marian in the face, and, for an instant, woke +her from her blissful reverie. + +She looked up. Why did not Thurston come? The storm would soon burst +forth upon the earth; where was Thurston? Were he by her side there +would be nothing formidable in the storm, for he would shelter her with +his cloak and umbrella, as they should scud along over the fields to the +cottage, and reach the fireside before the rain could overtake them. +Where was he? What could detain him at such a time? She peered through +the darkness up and down the beach. To her accustomed eye, the features +of the landscape were dimly visible. That black form looming like a +shadowy giant before her was the headland of Pine Bluff, with its base +washed by the sullen waves. It was the only object that broke the dark, +dull monotony of the shore. She listened; the moan of the sea, the wail +of the wind, were blended in mournful chorus. It was the only sound that +broke the dreary silence of the hour. + +Hark! No; there was another sound. Amid the moaning and the wailing of +winds and waves, and the groaning of the coming storm, was heard the +regular fall of oars, soon followed by the slow, grating sound of a boat +pushed up upon the frozen strand. Marian paused and strained her eyes +through the darkness in the direction of the sound, but could see +nothing save the deeper, denser darkness around Pine Bluff. She turned, +and, under cover of the darkness, moved swiftly and silently from the +locality. The storm was coming on very fast. The rain was falling and +the wind rising and driving it into her face. She pulled her hood +closely about her face, and wrapped her shawl tightly about her as she +met the blast. + +Oh! where was Thurston, and why did he not come? She blamed herself for +having ventured out; yet could she have foreseen this? No; for she had +confidently trusted in his keeping his appointment. She had never known +him to fail before. What could have caused the failure now? Had he kept +his tryste they would now have been safely housed at Old Field Cottage. +Perhaps Thurston, seeing the clouds, had taken for granted that she +would not come, and he had therefore stayed away. Yet, no; she could not +for an instant entertain that thought. Well she knew that had a storm +risen, and raged as never a storm did before, Thurston, upon the bare +possibility of her presence there, would keep his appointment. No; +something beyond his control had delayed him. And, unless he should now +very soon appear, something very serious had happened to him. The storm +was increasing in violence; her shawl was already wet, and she resolved +to hurry home. + +She had just turned to go when the sound of a man's heavy, measured +footsteps, approaching from the opposite direction, fell upon her ear. +She looked up half in dread, and strained her eyes out into the +blackness of the night. It was too dark to see anything but the outline +of a man's figure wrapped in a large cloak, coming slowly on toward her. +As the man drew near she recognized the well-known figure, air and gait; +she had of the identity. She hastened to meet him, exclaiming in a low, +eager tone: + +"Thurston! dear Thurston!" + +The man paused, folded his cloak about him, drew up, and stood perfectly +still. + +Why did he not answer her? Why did he not speak to her? Why did he stand +so motionless, and look so strange? She could not have seen the +expression of his countenance, even if a flap of his cloak had not been +folded across his face; but his whole form shook as with an ague fit. + +"Thurston! dear Thurston!" she exclaimed once more, under her breath, as +she pressed toward him. + +But he suddenly stretched out his hand to repulse her, gasping, as it +were, breathlessly, "Not yet--not yet!" and again his whole frame shook +with an inward storm. What could be the reason of his strange behavior? +Oh, some misfortune had happened to him--that was evident! Would it were +only of a nature that her own good news might be able to cure. And it +might be so. Full of this thought, she was again pressing toward him, +when a violent flurry of rain and wind whistled before her and drove +into her face, concealing him from her view. When the sudden gust as +suddenly passed, she saw that he remained in the same spot, his breast +heaving, his whole form shaking. She could bear it no longer. She +started forward and put her arms around his neck, and dropped her head +upon his bosom, and whispered in suppressed tones: + +"Dearest Thurston, what is the matter? Tell me, for I love you more than +life!" + +The man clasped his left arm fiercely around her waist, lifted his right +hand, and, hissing sharply through his clenched teeth: + +"You have drawn on your own doom--die, wretched girl!" plunged a dagger +in her bosom, and pushed her from him. + +One sudden, piercing shriek, and she dropped at his feet, grasping at +the ground, and writhing in agony. Her soul seemed striving to recover +the shock, and recollect its faculties. She half arose upon her elbow, +supported her head upon her hand, and with her other hand drew the steel +out from her bosom, and laid it down. The blood followed, and with the +life-stream her strength flowed away. The hand that supported her head +suddenly dropped, and she fell back. The man had been standing over her, +speechless, motionless, breathless, like some wretched somnambulist, +suddenly awakened in the commission of a crime, and gazing in horror, +amazement, and unbelief upon the work of his sleep. + +Suddenly he dropped upon his knees by her side, put his arm under her +head and shoulders and raised her up; but her chin fell forward upon her +bosom, and her eyes fixed and glazed. He laid her down gently, groaning +in a tone of unspeakable anguish: + +"Miss Mayfield! My God! what have I done?" And with an awful cry, +between a shriek and a groan, the wretched man cast himself upon the +ground by the side of the fallen body. + +The storm was beating wildly upon the assassin and his victim; but the +one felt it no more than the other. At length the sound of footsteps was +heard approaching fast and near. In the very anguish of remorse the +instinct of self-preservation seized the wretched man, and he started up +and fled as from the face of the avenger of blood. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +THE STRUGGLE ENDED. + + +In the meantime Jacquelina had reached home sooner than she had +expected. It was just dark, and the rain was beginning to fall as she +sprang from the carriage and darted into the house. + +Mrs. Waugh met her in the hall, took her hand, and said: + +"Oh, my dear Lapwing! I'm so glad you have come back, bad as the weather +is; for indeed the professor gives me a great deal of anxiety, and if +you had stayed away to-night I could not have been answerable for the +consequences. There, now; hurry up-stairs and change your dress, and +come down to tea. It is all ready, and we have a pair of canvasback +ducks roasted." + +"Very well, aunty! But--is Grim in the house?" + +"I don't know, my love. You hurry." + +Jacquelina tripped up the stairs to her own room, which she found +lighted, warmed, and attended by her maid, Maria. She took off her +bonnet and mantle, and laid them aside, and began to smooth her hair, +dancing all the time, and quivering with suppressed laughter in +anticipation of her "fun." When she had arranged her dress, she went +down-stairs and passed into the dining-room, where the supper table was +set. + +"See if Nace Grimshaw is in his room, and if he is not, we will wait no +longer!" said the hungry commodore, thumping his heavy stick down upon +the floor. + +Festus sprang to do his bidding, and after an absence of a few minutes +returned with the information that the professor was not there. + +Jacquelina shrugged her shoulders, and shook with inward laughter. + +They all sat down, and amid the commodore's growls at Grim's irregular +hours, and Jacquelina's shrugs and smiles and sidelong glances and +ill-repressed laughter, the meal passed. And when it was over, the +commodore, leaning on Mrs. Waugh's arm, went to his own particular sofa +in the back parlor; Mrs. L'Oiseau remained, to superintend the clearing +away of the supper-table; and Jacquelina danced on to the front parlor, +where she found no one but the maid, who was mending the fire. + +"Say! did you see anything of the professor while I was gone?" she +inquired. + +"Lors, honey, I wish I hadn't! I knows how de thought of it will give me +'liriums nex' time I has a fever." + +"Why? What did he do? When was it?" + +"Why, chile, jes afore sundown, as I was a carryin' an armful of wood +up-stairs, for Miss Mary's room, I meets de 'fessor a comin' down. I +like to 'a' screamed! I like to 'a' let de wood drap! I like to 'a' +drapped right down myself! It made my heart beat in de back o' my +head--he look so awful, horrid gashly! Arter speakin' in a voice hollow +as an empty coffin, an' skeerin' me out'n my seventeen sensibles axin +arter you, he jes tuk hisself off summers, an' I ain't seen him sence." + +"What did he ask you? What did you tell him?" + +"He jes ax where you was. I telled him how you were gone home 'long o' +Miss Marian; he ax when you were comin' back; I telled him I believed +not till to-morrow mornin'; then his face turned all sorts of awful dark +colors, an' seemed like it crushed right in, an' he nodded and said +'Ah!' but it sounded jes like a hollow groan; and he tuk hisself off, +and I ain't seen him sence." + +The elf danced about the room, unable to restrain her glee. And the +longer Dr. Grimshaw remained away, the more excited she grew. She +skipped about like the very sprite of mischief, exclaiming to herself: + +"Oh, shan't we have fun presently! Oh, shan't we, though! The Grim +maniac! he has gone to detect me! And he'll break in upon Thurston and +Marian's interview. Won't there be an explosion! Oh, Jupiter! Oh, Puck! +Oh, Mercury! What fun--what delicious fun! Wr-r-r-r! I can scarcely +contain myself! Begone, Maria! Vanish! I want all the space in this room +to myself! Oh, fun alive! What a row there'll be! Me-thinks I hear the +din of battle! + +"Oh clanga a rang! a rang! clang! clash! Whoop!" + +sang the elf, springing and dancing, and spinning, and whirling, around +and around the room in the very ecstasy of mischief. Her dance was +brought to a sudden and an awful close. + +The hall door was thrown violently open, hurried and irregular steps +were heard approaching, the parlor door was pushed open, and Dr. +Grimshaw staggered forward and paused before her! + +Yes; her frolic was brought to an eternal end. She saw at a glance that +something fatal, irreparable, had happened. There was blood upon his +hands and wrist-bands! Oh, more--far more! There was the unmistakable +mark of Cain upon his writhen brow! Before now she had seen him look +pale and wild and haggard, and had known neither fear nor pity for him. +But now! An exhumed corpse galvanized into a horrid semblance of life +might look as he did--with just such sunken cheeks and ashen lips and +frozen eyes; with just such a collapsed and shuddering form; yet, +withal, could not have shown that terrific look of utter, incurable +despair! His fingers, talon-like in their horny paleness and rigidity, +clutched his breast, as if to tear some mortal anguish thence, and his +glassy eyes were fixed in unutterable reproach upon her face! Thrice he +essayed to speak, but a gurgling noise in his throat was the only +result. With a last great effort to articulate, the blood suddenly +filled his throat and gushed from his mouth! For a moment he sought to +stay the hemorrhage by pressing a handkerchief to his lips; but soon his +hand dropped powerless to his side; he reeled and fell upon the floor! + +Jacquelina gazed in horror on her work. + +And then her screams of terror filled the house! + +The family came rushing in. Foremost entered the commodore, shaking his +stick in a towering passion, and exclaiming at the top of his voice: + +"What the devil is all this? What's broke loose now? What are you +raising all this row for, you infernal little hurricane?" + +"Oh, uncle! aunty! mother! look--look!" exclaimed Jacquelina, wringing +her pale fingers, and pointing to the fallen man. + +The sight arrested all eyes. + +The miserable man lay over on his side, ghastly pale, and breathing +laboriously, every breath pumping out the life-blood, that had made a +little pool beside his face. + +Mrs. Waugh and Mary L'Oiseau hastened to stoop and raise the sufferer. +The commodore drew near, half stupefied, as he always was in a crisis. + +"What--what--what's all this? Who did it? How did it happen?" he asked, +with a look of dull amazement. + +"Give me a sofa cushion, Maria, to place under his head. Mary L'Oiseau, +hurry as fast as you can, and send a boy for Dr. Brightwell; tell him to +take the swiftest horse in the stable, and ride for life and death, and +bring the physician instantly, for Dr. Grimshaw is dying! Hurry!" + +"Dying? Eh! what did you say, Henrietta?" inquired the commodore, in a +sort of stupid, blind anxiety; for he was unable to comprehend what had +happened. + +"Speak to me, Henrietta! What is the matter? What ails Grim?" + +"He has ruptured an artery," said Mrs. Waugh, gravely, as she laid the +sufferer gently back upon the carpet and placed the sofa pillow under +his head. + +"Ruptured an artery? How did it happen? Grim! Nace! speak to me! How do +you feel? Oh, Heaven! he doesn't speak--he doesn't hear me! Oh, +Henrietta! he is very ill--he is very ill! He must be put to bed at +once, and the doctor sent for! Come here, Maria! Help me to lift your +young master," said the old man, waking up to anxiety. + +"Stay! The doctor has been sent for; but he must not be moved; it would +be fatal to him. Indeed, I fear that he is beyond human help," said +Henrietta, as she wiped the gushing stream from the lips of the dying +man. + +"Beyond human help! Eh! what? Nace! No! no! no! no! It can't be!" said +the old man, kneeling down, and bending over him in helpless trouble. + +"Attend Dr. Grimshaw, while I hurry out and see what can be done, +Mary," said Mrs. Waugh, resigning her charge, and then hastening from +the room. She soon returned, bringing with her such remedies as her +limited knowledge suggested. And she and Mary L'Oiseau applied them; but +in vain! Every effort for his relief seemed but to hasten his death. The +hemorrhage was subsiding; so also was his breath. "It is too late; he is +dying!" said Henrietta, solemnly. + +"Dying! No, no, Nace! Nace! speak to me! Nace! you're not dying! I've +lost more blood than that in my time! Nace! Nace! speak to your +old--speak, Nace!" cried the commodore, stooping down and raising the +sufferer in his arms, and gazing, half wildly, half stupidly, at the +congealing face. + +He continued thus for some moments, until Mrs. Waugh, putting her hand +upon his shoulder, said gravely and kindly: + +"Lay him down, Commodore Waugh; he is gone." + +"Gone! gone!" echoed the old man, in his imbecile distraction, and +dropped his gray head upon the corpse, and groaned aloud. + +Mrs. Waugh came and laid her hand affectionately on his shoulder. He +looked up in such hopeless, helpless trouble, and cried out: + +"Oh, Henrietta! he was my son--my only, only son! My poor, unowned boy! +Oh, Henrietta! is he dead? Are you sure? Is he quite gone?" + +"He is gone, Commodore Waugh; lay him down; come away to your room," +said Henrietta, gently taking his hand. + +Jacquelina, white with horror, was kneeling with clasped hands and +dilated eyes, gazing at the ruin. The old man's glance fell upon her +there, and his passion changed from grief to fury. Fiercely he broke +forth: + +"It was you! You are the murderess--you! Heaven's vengeance light upon +you!" + +"Oh, I never meant it! I never meant it! I am very wretched! I wish I'd +never been born!" cried Jacquelina, wringing her pale fingers. + +"Out of my sight, you curse! Out of my sight--and may Heaven's wrath +pursue you!" thundered the commodore, shaking with grief and rage. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +THE BODY ON THE BEACH. + + +In the meanwhile, where was he whose headlong passions had precipitated +this catastrophe? where was Thurston? After having parted with his +confederate, he hurried home, for a very busy day lay before him. To +account for his sudden departure, and long absence, and to cover his +retreat, it was necessary to have some excuse, such as a peremptory +summons to Baltimore upon the most important business. Once in that +city, he would have leisure to find some further apology for proceeding +directly to France without first returning home. Now, strange as it may +appear, though his purposed treachery to Marian wrung his bosom with +remorse whenever he paused to think of it, yet it was the remorse +without humiliation; for he persuaded himself that stratagem was fair in +love as in war, especially in his case with Marian, who had already +given him her hand; but now the unforseen necessity of these subterfuges +made his cheek burn. He hastened to Dell-Delight, and showing the old +man a letter he had that morning received from the city, informed him +that he was obliged to depart immediately, upon affairs of the most +urgent moment to him, and then, to escape the sharp stings of +self-scorn, he busied himself with arranging his papers, packing his +trunks and ordering his servants. His baggage was packed into and behind +the old family carriage, and having completed his preparations about one +o'clock, he entered it, and was driven rapidly to the village. + +The schooner was already at the wharf and waiting for him. Thurston met +many of his friends in the village, and in an off-hand manner explained +to them the ostensible cause of his journey. And thus, in open daylight, +gayly chatting with his friends, Thurston superintended the embarkation +of his baggage. And it was not until one by one they had shaken hands +with him, wished him a good voyage and departed, that Thurston found +himself alone with the captain in the cabin. + +"Now you know, Miles, that I have not come on board to remain. When the +coast is clear I shall go on shore, get in the carriage, and return to +Dell-Delight. I must meet my wife on the beach. I must remain with her +through all. I must take her on board. You will be off Pine Bluff just +at dusk, captain?" + +"Ay, ay, sir." + +"You will not be a moment behind hand?" + +"Trust me for that, Cap'n." + +"See if the people have left." + +The skipper went on deck and returned to report the coast clear. + +Thurston then went on shore, entered the carriage, and was driven +homeward. + +It was nearly four o'clock when he reached Dell-Delight, and there he +found the whole premises in a state of confusion. Several negroes were +on the lookout for him; and as soon as they saw him ran to the house. + +"What is the meaning of all this?" he inquired, detaining one of the +hindmost. + +"Oh, Marse Thuster, sir! oh, sir!" exclaimed the boy, rolling his eyes +quite wildly. + +"What is the matter with the fool?" + +"Oh, sir; my poor ole marse! my poor ole marse!" + +"What has happened to your master? Can't you be plain, sir?" + +"Oh, Marse Thuster, sir! he done fell down inter a fit, an had to be +toted off to bed." + +"A fit! good heavens! has a doctor been summoned?" exclaimed Thurston, +springing from his seat. + +"Oh, yes, sir! Jase be done gone arter de doctor." + +Thurston stopped to inquire no farther, but ran into the house and up +into his grandfather's chamber. + +There a distressing scene met his eyes. The old man, with his limbs +distorted, and his face swollen and discolored, lay in a state of +insensibility upon the bed. Two or three negro women were gathered +around him, variously occupied with rubbing his hands, chafing his +temples and wiping the oozing foam from his lips. At the foot of the bed +stood poor daft Fanny, with disheveled hair and dilated eyes, chanting a +grotesque monologue, and keeping time with a see-saw motion from side to +side. The first thing Thurston did, was to take the hand of this poor +crazed, but docile creature, and lead her from the sick-room up into her +own. He bade her remain there, and then returned to his grandfather's +bedside. In reply to his anxious questioning, he was informed that the +old man had fallen into a fit about an hour before--that a boy had been +instantly sent for the doctor, and the patient carried to bed; but that +he had not spoken since they laid him there. It would yet be an hour +before the doctor could possibly arrive, and the state of the patient +demanded instant attention. + +And withal Thurston was growing very anxious upon Marian's account. The +sun was now sinking under a dark bank of clouds. The hour of his +appointed meeting with her was approaching. He felt, of course, that his +scheme must for the present be deferred--even if its accomplishment +should again seem necessary, which was scarcely possible. But Marian +would expect him. And how should he prevent her coming to the beach and +waiting for him there? He did not know where a message would most likely +now to find her, whether at Luckenough, at Old Fields or at Colonel +Thornton's. But he momentarily expected the arrival of Dr. Brightwell, +and he resolved to leave that good man in attendance at the sick bed, +while he himself should escape for a few hours; and hurry to the beach +to meet and have an explanation with his wife. + +But an hour passed, and the doctor did not come. + +Thurston's eyes wandered anxiously from the distorted face of the dying +man before him, to the window that commanded the approach to the house. +But no sign of the doctor was to be seen. + +The sun was on the very edge of the horizon. The sufferer before him was +evidently approaching his end. Marian he knew must be on her way to the +beach. And a dreadful storm was rising. + +His anxiety reached fever heat. + +He could not leave the bedside of his dying relative, yet Marian must +not be permitted to wait upon the beach, exposed to the fierceness of +the storm, or worse the rudeness of his own confederates. + +He took a sudden resolution, and wondered that he had not done so +before. He resolved to summon Marian as his wife to his home. + +Full of this thought, he hastened down stairs and ordered Melchizedek to +put the horse to the gig and get ready to go an errand. And while the +boy was obeying his directions, Thurston penned the following lines to +Marian: + +"My dear Marian--my dear, generous, long-suffering wife--come to my aid. +My grandfather has been suddenly stricken down with apoplexy, and is +dying. The physician has not yet arrived, and I cannot leave his +bedside. Return with my messenger, to assist me in taking care of the +dying man. You, who are the angel of the sick and suffering, will not +refuse me your aid. Come, never to leave me more! Our marriage shall be +acknowledged to-morrow, to-night, any time, that you in your nicer +judgment, shall approve. Come! let nothing hinder you. I will send a +message to Edith to set her anxiety at rest, or I will send for her to +be with you here. Come to me, beloved Marian. Dictate your own +conditions if you will--only come." + +He had scarcely sealed this note, when the boy, hat in hand, appeared at +the door. + +"Take this note, sir, jump in the gig and drive as fast as possible to +the beach below Pine Bluffs. You will see Miss Mayfield waiting there, +give her this note, and then--await her orders. Be quicker than you ever +were before," said Thurston, hurrying his messenger off. + +Then, much relieved of anxiety upon Marian's account, he returned to the +sick-room and renewed his endeavors to relieve the patient. + +Ah! he was far past relief now; he was stricken with death. And with +Thurston all thoughts, all feelings, all interests, even those connected +with Marian, were soon lost in that awful presence. It was the first +time he had ever looked upon death, and now, in the rushing tide of his +sinful passions and impetuous will, he was brought face to face with +this last, dread, all-conquering power! What if it were not in his own +person? What if it were in the person of an old man, very infirm, and +over-ripe for the great reaper? It was death--the final earthly end of +every living creature--death, the demolition of the human form, the +breaking up of the vital functions, the dissolution between soul and +body, the one great event that "happeneth to all;" the doom certain, the +hour uncertain; coming in infancy, youth, maturity, as often or oftener +than in age. These were the thoughts that filled Thurston's mind as he +stood and wiped the clammy dews from the brow of the dying man. + +Thurston might have remained much longer, too deeply and painfully +absorbed in thought to notice the darkening of the night or the beating +of the storm, had not a gust of the rain and wind, of unusual violence, +shaken the windows. + +This recalled Marian to his mind; it was nearly time for her to arrive; +he hoped that she was near the house; that she would soon be there; he +arose and went to the window to look forth into the night; but the deep +darkness prevented his seeing, as the noise of the storm prevented his +hearing the approach of any vehicle that might be near. He went back to +the bedside; the old man was breathing his life away without a struggle. +Thurston called the mulatto housekeeper to take his place, and then went +down stairs and out of the hall door, and gazed and listened for the +coming of the gig, in vain. He was just about to re-enter the hall and +close the door when the sound of wheels, dashing violently, +helter-skelter, and with break-neck speed into the yard, arrested his +attention. + +"Marian! it is my dear Marian at last; but the fellow need not risk her +life to save her from the storm by driving at that rate. My own Marian!" +he exclaimed, as he hurried out, expecting to meet her. + +Melchizedek alone sprang from the gig, and sank trembling and quaking at +his master's feet. + +Thurston blindly pushed past him, and peered and felt in the gig. It was +empty. + +"Where is the lady, sirrah? What ails you? Why don't you answer me?" +exclaimed Thurston, anxiously returning to the spot where the boy +crouched. But the latter remained speechless, trembling, groaning, and +wringing his hands. "Will you speak, idiot? I ask you where is the lady? +Was she not upon the beach? What has frightened you so? Did the horse +run away?" inquired Thurston, hurriedly, in great alarm. + +"Oh, sir, marster! I 'spects she's killed!" + +"Killed! Oh, my God! she has been thrown from the gig!" cried the young +man, in a piercing voice, as he reeled under this blow. In another +instant he sprang upon the poor boy and shaking him furiously, cried in +a voice of mingled grief, rage and anxiety: "Where was she thrown? Where +is she? How did it happen? Oh! villain! villain! you shall pay for this +with your life! Come and show me the spot! instantly! instantly!" + +"Oh, marster, have mercy, sir! 'Twasn't along o' me an' the gig it +happened of! She wur 'parted when I got there!" + +"Where? Where? Good heavens, where?" asked Thurston, nearly beside +himself. + +"On de beach, sir. Jes' as I got down there, I jumped out'n de gig, and +walked along, and then I couldn't see my way, an' I turned de bull-eye +ob de lantern on de sand afore me, an' oh, marse--" + +"Go, on! go on!" + +"I seen de lady lying like dead, and a man jump up and run away, and +when I went nigh, I seen her all welkering in her blood, an' dis yer +lying by her," and the boy handed a small poignard to his master. + +It was Thurston's own weapon, that he had lost some months previous in +the woods of Luckenough. It was a costly and curious specimen of French +taste and ingenuity. The handle was of pearl, carved in imitation of the +sword-fish, and the blade corresponded to the long pointed beak that +gives the fish that name. + +Thurston scarcely noticed that it was his dagger, but pushing the boy +aside, he ran to the stables, saddled a horse with the swiftness of +thought, threw himself into his stirrups, and galloped furiously away +towards the beach. + +The rain was now falling in torrents, and the wind driving it in fierce +gusts against his face. The tempest was at its very height, and it +seemed at times impossible to breast the blast--it seemed as though +steed and rider must be overthrown! Yet he lashed and spurred his horse, +and struggled desperately on, thinking with fierce anguish of Marian, +his Marian, lying wounded, helpless, alone and dying, exposed to all the +fury of the winds and waves upon that tempestuous coast, and dreading +with horror, lest before he should be able to reach her, her helpless +form, still living, might be washed off by the advancing waves. Thus he +spurred and lashed his horse, and drove him against rain and wind, and +through the darkness of the night. + +With all his desperate haste, it was two hours before he approached the +beach. And as he drew near the heavy cannonading of the waves upon the +shore admonished him that the tide was at its highest point. He pressed +rapidly onward, threw himself from his horse, and ran forward to the +edge of the bank above the beach. It was only to meet the confirmation +of his worst fears! The waters were thundering against the bank upon +which he stood. The tide had come in and overswept the whole beach, and +now, lashed and driven by the wind, the waves tossed and raved and +roared with appalling fury. + +Marian was gone, lost, swept away by the waves! that was the thought +that wrung from him a cry of fierce agony, piercing through all the +discord of the storm, as he ran up and down the shore, hoping nothing, +expecting nothing, yet totally unable to tear himself from the fatal +spot. + +And so he wildly walked and raved, until his garments were drenched +through with the rain; until the storm exhausted its fury and subsided; +until the changing atmosphere, the still, severe cold, froze all his +clothing stiff around him; so he walked, groaning and crying and calling +despairingly upon the name of Marian, until the night waned and the +morning dawned, and the eastern horizon grew golden, then crimson, then +fiery with the coming sun. + +The sky was clear, the waters calm, the sands bare and glistening in the +early sunbeams; no vestige of the storm or of the bloody outrage of the +night remained--all was peace and beauty. In the distance was a single +snow-white sail, floating swan-like on the bosom of the blue waters. All +around was beauty and peace, yet from the young man's tortured bosom +peace had fled, and remorse, vulture-like, had struck its talons deep +into his heart. He called himself a murderer, the destroyer of Marian; +he said it was his selfishness, his willfulness, his treachery, that had +exposed her to this danger, and brought her to this fate! Some outlaw, +some waterman, or fugitive negro had robbed and murdered her. Marian +usually wore a very valuable watch; probably, also, she had money about +her person--enough to have tempted the cupidity of some lawless wretch. +He shrank in horror from pursuing conjecture--it was worse than torture, +worse than madness to him. Oh, blindness and frenzy; why had he not +thought of these dangers so likely to beset her solitary path? Why had +he so recklessly exposed her to them? Vain questions, alas! vain as was +his self-reproach, his anguish and despair! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +THE MISSING MARIAN. + + +In the meantime, how had the morning broken upon Dell-Delight? How upon +Luckenough? and how at Old Field Cottage? + +At Dell-Delight the old man had expired just before the sun arose. The +two physicians that had been summoned the night previous, but had been +delayed by the storm, arrived in the morning only to see the patient +die. Many inquiries were made and much conjecture formed as to the cause +of Thurston Willcoxen's improper and unaccountable absence at such a +juncture. But Melchizedek, poor, faithful fellow, having followed his +master's steps, did not appear, and no one else upon the premises could +give any explanation relative to the movements of their young master. He +had left the bedside of his dying relative at nine o'clock the night +before, and he had not since returned--his saddle-horse was gone from +the stable--that was all that could be ascertained. Dr. Brightwell took +his departure, to answer other pressing calls. But Dr. Weismann, seeing +that there was no responsible person in charge, and having elsewhere no +urgent demands upon his time and attention, kindly volunteered to stay +and superintend affairs at Dell-Delight, until the reappearance of the +young master. + + * * * * * + +At Old Field Cottage, Edith had sat up late the night before waiting for +Marian; but, seeing that she did not return, had taken it for granted +that she had remained all night with Miss Thornton, and so, without the +least uneasiness at her prolonged absence, had retired to rest. And in +the morning she arose with the same impression on her mind, gayly +looking forward to Marian's return with the visitor, and the certain +happy revelation she had promised. + +She had breakfast over early, made the room very tidy, dressed Miriam in +her holiday clothes, put on her own Sunday gown, and sat down to wait +for Marian and the visitor. The morning passed slowly, in momentary +expectation of an arrival. + +It was near eleven o'clock when she looked up and saw Colonel Thornton's +carriage approaching the cottage. + +"There! I said so! I knew Marian had remained with Miss Thornton, and +that they would bring her home this morning. I suppose Colonel Thornton +and his sister are both with her! And now for the revelation! I wonder +what it is," said Edith, smiling to herself, as she arose and stroked +down her dress, and smoothed her ringlets, preparatory to meeting her +guests. + +By this time the carriage had drawn up before the cottage gate. Edith +went out just in time to see the door opened, and Miss Thornton alight. +The lady was alone--that Edith saw at the first glance. + +"What can be the meaning of this?" she asked herself, as she went +forward to welcome her visitor. + +But Miss Thornton was very pale and tremulous, and she acted altogether +strangely. + +"How do you do, Miss Thornton? I am very glad to see you," said Edith, +cordially offering her hand. + +But the lady seized it, and drew her forcibly towards the door, saying +in a husky voice: + +"Come in--come in!" + +Full of surprise, Edith followed her. + +"Sit down," she continued, sinking into a chair, and pointing to a +vacant one by her side. + +Edith took the seat, and waited in wonder for her further speech. + +"Where is Marian?" asked Miss Thornton, in an agitated voice. + +"Where? Why, I believed her to be at your house!" answered Edith, in +surprise and vague fear. + +"Good heaven!" exclaimed the lady, growing very pale, and trembling in +every limb. Edith started up in alarm. + +"Miss Thornton, what do you mean? For mercy's sake, tell me, has +anything happened?" + +"I do not know--I am not sure--I trust not--tell me! when did you see +her last? When did she leave home? this morning?" + +"No! last evening, about sundown." + +"And she has not returned? You have not seen her since?" + +"No!" + +"Did she tell you where she was going?" + +"No!" + +"Did she promise to come back? and when?" + +"She promised to return before dark! She did not do so! I judged the +storm had detained her, and that she was with you, and I felt easy." + +"Oh, God!" cried the lady, in a voice of deep distress, + +"Miss Thornton! for Heaven's sake! tell me what has occurred!" + +"Oh, Edith!" + +"In mercy, explain yourself--Marian! what of Marian?" + +"Oh, God, sustain you, Edith! what can I say to you? my own heart is +lacerated!" + +"Marian! Marian! oh! what has happened to Marian! Oh! where is Marian?" + +"I had hoped to find her here after all! else I had not found courage to +come!" + +"Miss Thornton, this is cruel--" + +"Ah! poor Edith! what you required to be told is far more cruel. Oh, +Edith! pray Heaven for fortitude?" + +"I have fortitude for anything but suspense. Oh, Heaven, Miss Thornton, +relieve this suspense, or I shall suffocate!" + +"Edith! Edith!" said the lady, going up and putting her arms around the +fragile form of the young widow, as to shield and support her. "Oh, +Edith! I heard a report this morning--and it may be but a report--I pray +Heaven, that it is no more--" + +"Oh, go on! what was it?" + +"That, that last evening on the beach during the storm, Marian +Mayfield--" Miss Thornton's voice choked. + +"Oh, speak; for mercy speak! What of Marian?" + +"That Marian Mayfield had been waylaid, and--" + +"Murdered! Oh, God!" cried Edith, as her over-strained nerves relaxed, +and she sank in the arms of Miss Thornton. + +A child's wild, frenzied shriek resounded through the house. It was the +voice of Miriam. + + * * * * * + +At Luckenough that morning, the remains of the unfortunate Dr. Grimshaw +were laid out preparatory to burial. Jacquelina, in a bewildered stupor +of remorse, wandered vaguely from room to room, seeking rest and finding +none. "I have caused a fellow creature's death!" That was the envenomed +thought that corroded her heart's centre. From her bosom, too, peace had +fled. It was near noon when the news of Marian's fate reached +Luckenough, and overwhelmed the family with consternation and grief. + +But Jacquelina! the effect of the tragic tale on her was nearly fatal. +She understood the catastrophe, as no one else could! She knew who +struck the fatal blow, and when and why, and under what mistake it was +struck! She felt that another crime, another death lay heavy on her +soul! It was too much! oh! it was too much! No human heart nor brain +could sustain the crushing burden, and the poor lost elf fell into +convulsions that threatened soon to terminate in death. There was no +raving, no talking; in all her frenzy, the fatal secret weighing on her +bosom did not then transpire. + + * * * * * + +Before the day was out the whole county was in an uproar. Never had any +event of the neighborhood created so high an excitement or so profound a +sympathy. Great horror and amazement filled every bosom. A county +meeting spontaneously convened, and handbills were printed, large +rewards offered, and every means taken to secure the discovery of the +criminal. In the deep, absorbing sympathy for Marian's fate, the sudden +death of Professor Grimshaw, and the reasonably-to-be-expected demise of +old Mr. Cloudesley Willcoxen, passed nearly unnoticed, and were soon +forgotten. Among the most zealous in the pursuit of the unknown murderer +was Thurston Willcoxen; but the ghastly pallor of his countenance, the +wildness of his eyes, and the distraction of his manner, often varied by +fits of deep and sullen despair, excited the surprise and conjecture of +all who looked upon him. + +Days passed and still no light was thrown upon the mystery. About a +fortnight after the catastrophe, however, information was brought to the +neighborhood that the corpse of a woman, answering to the description of +Marian, had been washed ashore some miles down the coast, but had been +interred by the fishermen, the day after its discovery. Many gentlemen +hurried down to the spot, and further investigation confirmed the +general opinion that the body was that of the martyred girl. + + * * * * * + +Three weeks after this, Edith lay upon her deathbed. Her delicate frame +never recovered this last great shock. A few days before her death she +called Miriam to her bedside. The child approached; she was sadly +altered within the last few weeks; incessant weeping had dimmed her +splendid eyes, and paled her brilliant cheeks. + +"Sit down upon the bed by me, my daughter," said Edith. + +The child climbed up and took the indicated seat. Something of that +long-smothered fire, which had once braved the fury of the British +soldiers, kindled in the dying woman's eyes. + +"Miriam, you are nearly nine years old in time, and much older than that +in thought and feeling. Miriam, your mother has not many days to live; +but in dying, she leaves you a sacred trust to be fulfilled. My child, +do you follow and understand me?" + +"Yes, mamma." + +"Do not weep; tears are vain and idle. There was an injured queen once +whose tears were turned to sparks of fire. So I would have yours to +turn! She came among us a young stranger girl, without fortune or +position, or any of the usual stepping-stones to social consideration. +Yet see what influence, what power she soon obtained, and what reforms +and improvements she soon effected. The county is rich in the monuments +of her young wisdom and angelic goodness. All are indebted to her; but +none so deeply as you and I. All are bound to seek out and punish her +destroyer; but none so strongly as you and I. Others have pursued the +search for the murderer with great zeal for a while; we must make that +search the one great object of our lives. Upon us devolve the right and +the duty to avenge her death by bringing her destroyer to the scaffold. +Miriam, do you hear--do you hear and understand me?" + +"Yes, mamma; yes." + +"Child, listen to me! I have a clue to Marian's murderer!" + +Miriam started, and attended breathlessly. + +"My love, it was no poor waterman or fugitive negro, tempted by want or +cupidity. It was a gentleman, Miriam." + +"A gentleman?" + +"Yes; one that she must have become acquainted with during her visit to +Washington three years ago. Oh, I remember her unaccountable distress in +the months that followed that visit! His name, or his assumed name, +was--attend, Miriam!--Thomas Truman." + +"Thomas Truman!" + +"Yes; and while you live, remember that name, until its owner hangs upon +the gallows!" + +Miriam shuddered, and hid her pale face in her hands. + +"Here," said Edith, taking a small packet of letters from under her +pillow. "Here, Miriam, is a portion of her correspondence with this man, +Thomas Truman--I found it in the secret drawer of her bureau. There are +several notes entreating her to give him a meeting, on the beach, at +Mossy Dell, and at other points. From the tenor of these notes, I am led +to believe that she refused these meetings; and, more than that, from +the style of one in particular I am induced to suppose that she might +have been privately married to that man. Why he should have enticed her +to that spot to destroy her life, I do not know. But this, at least, I +know: that our dearest Marian has been basely assassinated. I see reason +to suppose the assassin to have been her lover, or her husband, and that +his real or assumed name was Thomas Truman. These facts, and this little +packet of notes and letters, are all that I have to offer as testimony. +But by following a slight clue, we are sometimes led to great +discoveries." + +"Why didn't you show them to the gentlemen, dear mamma? They might have +found out something by them." + +"I showed them to Thurston Willcoxen, who has been so energetic in the +pursuit of the unknown murderer; but Thurston became so violently +agitated that I thought he must have fallen. And he wished very much to +retain those letters, but I would not permit them to be carried out of +my sight. When he became calmer, however, he assured me that there could +be no possible connection between the writer of these notes and the +murderer of the unfortunate girl. I, however, think differently. I think +there is a connection, and even an identity; and I think this packet may +be the means of bringing the criminal to justice; and I leave it--a +sacred trust--in your charge, Miriam. Guard it well; guard it as your +only treasure, until it has served its destined purpose. And now, +Miriam, do you know the nature of a vow?" + +"Yes, mamma." + +"Do you understand its solemnity--its obligation, its inviolability?" + +"I think I do, mamma." + +"Do you know that in the performance of your vow, if necessary, no toil, +no privation, no suffering of mind or body, no dearest interest of your +life, no strongest affection of your soul, but must be sacrificed; do +you comprehend all this?" + +"Yes, mamma; I knew it before, and I have read of Jeptha and his +daughter." + +"Now, Miriam, kneel down, fold your hands, and give them to me between +my own. Look into my eyes. I want you to make a vow to God and to your +dying mother, to avenge the death of Marian. Will you bind your soul by +such an obligation?" + +The child was magnetized by the thrilling eyes that gazed deep into her +own. She answered: + +"Yes, mamma." + +"You vow in the sight of God and all his holy angels, that, as you hope +for salvation, you will devote your life with all your faculties of mind +and body, to the discovery and punishment of Marian's murderer; and also +that you will live a maiden until you become and avenger." + +"I vow." + +"Swear that no afterthoughts shall tempt you to falter; that happen what +may in the changing years, you will not hesitate; that though your +interests and affections should intervene, you will not suffer them to +retard you in your purpose; that no effort, no sacrifice, no privation, +no suffering of mind or body shall be spared, if needful, to the +accomplishment of your vow." + +"I swear." + +"You will do it! You are certain to discover the murderer, and clear up +the mystery." + +The mental excitement that had carried Edith through this scene +subsided, and left her very weak, so that when Thurston Willcoxen soon +after called to see her, she was unable to receive him. + +The next morning, however, Thurston repeated his visit, and was brought +to the bedside of the invalid. + +Thurston was frightfully changed, the sufferings of the last month +seemed to have made him old--his countenance was worn, his voice hollow, +and his manner abstracted and uncertain. + +"Edith," he asked, as he took the chair near her head, "do you feel +stronger this morning?" + +"Yes--I always do in the forenoon" + +"Do you feel well enough to talk of Miriam and her future?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"What do you propose to do with her?" + +"I shall leave her to Aunt Henrietta--she will never let the child +want." + +"But Mrs. Waugh is quite an old lady now. Jacquelina is insane, the +commodore and Mrs. L'Oiseau scarcely competent to take care of +themselves--and Luckenough a sad, unpromising home for a little girl." + +"I know it--oh! I know it; why do you speak of it, since I can do no +otherwise?" + +"To point out how you may do otherwise, dear Edith. It would have been +cruel to mention it else." + +She looked up at him with surprise and inquiry. + +"Edith, you have known me from my boyhood. You know what I am. Will you +leave your orphan daughter to me? You look at me in wonder; but listen, +dear Edith, and then decide. Marian--dear martyred saint! loved that +child as her own. And I loved Marian--loved her as I had never dreamed +it possible for heart to love--I cannot speak of this! it deprives me of +reason," he said, suddenly covering his eyes with his hands, while a +spasm agitated his worn face. In a few minutes he resumed. + +"Look at me, Edith! the death of Marian has brought me to what you see! +My youth has melted away like a morning mist. I have not an object in +life except to carry out purposes which were dear to her benevolent +heart, and which her sudden death has left incomplete. I have not an +affection in the world except that which comes through her. I should +love this child dearly, and cherish her devotedly for Marian's sake. I +shall never change my bachelor life--but I should like to legally adopt +little Miriam. I should give her the best educational advantages, and +make her the co-heir with my young brother, Paul Douglass, of all I +possess. Say, Edith, can you trust your child to me?" He spoke +earnestly, fervently, taking her hand and pressing it, and gazing +pleadingly into her eyes. + +"So you loved Marian--I even judged so when I saw you labor hardest of +all for the apprehension of the criminal. Oh, many loved her as much as +you! Colonel Thornton, Dr. Weismann, Judge Gordon, Mr. Barnwell, all +adored her! Ah! she was worthy of it." + +"No more of that, dear Edith, it will overcome us both; but tell me if +you will give me your little girl?" + +"Dear Thurston, your proposal is as strange and unusual as it is +generous. I thank you most sincerely, but you must give me time to look +at it and think of it. You are sincere, you are in earnest, you mean all +you say. I see that in your face; but I must reflect and take counsel +upon such an important step. Go now, dear Thurston, and return to me at +this hour to-morrow morning." + +Thurston pressed her hand and departed. + +The same day Edith had a visit from Mrs. Waugh, Miss Thornton and other +friends. And after consulting with them upon the proposal that had been +made her, she decided to leave Miriam in the joint guardianship of Mrs. +Waugh and Thurston Willcoxen. + +And this decision was made known to Thurston when he called the next +morning. + +A few days after this Edith passed to the world of spirits. And Thurston +took the orphan child to his own heart and home. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +IN MERRY ENGLAND. + + +When Marian recovered consciousness she found herself on board ship and +a lady attending to her wants. When she was at last able to ask how she +came there the lady nurse told the following story: + +"On the evening of Holy Thursday, about the time the storm arose, our +vessel lay to opposite a place on St. Mary's coast, called Pine Bluff, +and the mate put off in a boat to land a passenger; as they neared the +shore they met another boat rowed by two men, who seemed so anxious to +escape observation, as to row away as fast as they could without +answering our boat's salute. Our mate thought very strange of it at the +time; but the mysterious boat was swiftly hid in the darkness, and our +boat reached the land. The mate and his man had to help to carry the +passenger's trunks up to the top of the bluff, and a short distance +beyond, where a carriage was kept waiting for him, and after they had +parted from him, they returned down the bluff by a shorter though +steeper way; and just as they reached the beach, in the momentary lull +of the storm, they heard groans. Immediately the men connected those +sounds with the strange boat they had seen row away, and they raised the +wick in the lantern, and threw its light around, and soon discovered you +upon the sands, moaning, though nearly insensible. They naturally +concluded that you had been the victim of the men in the boat, who were +probably pirates. Their first impulse was to pursue the carriage, and +get you placed within it, and taken to some farmhouse for assistance; +but a moment's reflection convinced them that such a plan was futile, as +it was impossible to overtake the carriage. There was also no house near +the coast. They thought it likely that you were a stranger to that part +of the country. And in the hurry and agitation of the moment, they could +devise nothing better than to put you in the boat, and bring you on +board this vessel. That is the way you came here." + +The grateful gaze of Marian thanked the lady, and she asked: + +"Tell me the name of my angel nurse." + +"Rachel Holmes," answered the lady, blushing gently. "My husband is a +surgeon in the United States army. He is on leave of absence now for the +purpose of taking me home to see my father and mother--they live in +London. I am of English parentage." + +Marian feebly pressed her hand, and then said: + +"You are very good to ask me no questions, and I thank you with all my +heart; for, dear lady, I can tell you nothing." + +The next day the vessel which had put into New York Harbor on call, +sailed for Liverpool. + +Marian slowly improved. Her purposes were not very clear or strong +yet--mental and physical suffering and exhaustion had temporarily +weakened and obscured her mind. Her one strong impulse was to escape, to +get away from the scenes of such painful associations and memories, and +to go home, to take refuge in her own native land. The thought of +returning to Maryland, to meet the astonishment, the wonder, the +conjectures, the inquiries, and perhaps the legal investigation that +might lead to the exposure and punishment of Thurston, was insupportable +to her heart. No, no! rather let the width of the ocean divide her from +all those horrors. Undoubtedly her friends believed her dead--let it be +so--let her remain as dead to them. She should leave no kindred behind +her, to suffer by her loss--should wrong no human being. True, there +were Miriam and Edith! But that her heart was exhausted by its one +great, all-consuming grief, it must have bled for them! Yet they had +already suffered all they could possibly suffer from the supposition of +her death--it was now three weeks since they had reason to believe her +dead, and doubtless kind Nature had already nursed them into resignation +and calmness, that would in time become cheerfulness. If she should go +back, there would be the shock, the amazement, the questions, the +prosecutions, perhaps the conviction, and the sentence, and the horrors +of a state prison for one the least hair of whose head she could not +willingly hurt; and then her own early death, or should she survive, her +blighted life. Could these consequences console or benefit Edith or +Miriam? No, no, they would augment grief. It was better to leave things +as they were--better to remain dead to them--a dead sorrow might be +forgotten--living one never! For herself, it was better to take fate as +she found it--to go home to England, and devote her newly restored life, +and her newly acquired fortune, to those benevolent objects that had so +lately occupied so large a share of her heart. Some means also should be +found--when she should grow stronger, and her poor head should be +clearer, so that she should be able to think--to make Edith and Miriam +the recipients of all the benefit her wealth could possibly confer upon +them. And so in recollecting, meditating, planning, and trying to reason +correctly, and to understand her embarrassed position, and her difficult +duty, passed the days of her convalescence. As her mind cleared, the +thought of Angelica began to give her uneasiness--she could not bear to +think of leaving that young lady exposed to the misfortune of becoming +Thurston's wife--and her mind toiled with the difficult problem of how +to shield Angelica without exposing Thurston. + +A few days after this, Marian related to her kind friends all of her +personal history that she could impart, without compromising the safety +of others: and she required and received from them the promise of their +future silence in regard to her fate. + +As they approached the shores of England, Marian improved so fast as to +be able to go on deck. And though extremely pale and thin, she could no +longer be considered an invalid, when, on the thirtieth day out, their +ship entered the mouth of the Mersey. Upon their arrival at Liverpool, +it had been the intention of Dr. Holmes and his wife to proceed to +London; but now they decided to delay a few hours until they should see +Marian safe in the house of her friends. The Rev. Theodore Burney was a +retired dissenting clergyman, living on his modest patrimony in a +country house a few miles out of Liverpool, and now at eighty years +enjoying a hale old age. Dr. Holmes took a chaise and carried Marian and +Rachel out to the place. The house was nearly overgrown with climbing +vines, and the grounds were beautiful with the early spring verdure and +flowers. The old man was overjoyed to meet Marian, and he received her +with a father's welcome. He thanked her friends for their care and +attention, and pressed them to come and stay several days or weeks. But +Dr. Holmes and Rachel simply explained that their visit was to their +parents in London, which city they were anxious to reach as soon as +possible, and, thanking their host, they took leave of him, of his old +wife, and Marian, and departed. + +The old minister looked hard at Marian. + +"You are pale, my dear. Well, I always heard that our fresh island roses +withered in the dry heat of the American climate, and now I know it! But +come! we shall soon see a change and what wonders native air and native +manners and morning walks will work in the way of restoring bloom." + +Marian did not feel bound to reply, and her ill health remained charged +to the account of our unlucky atmosphere. + +The next morning, the old gentleman took Marian into his library, told +her once more how very little surprised, and how very glad he was that +instead of writing, she had come in person. He then made her acquainted +with certain documents, and informed her that it would be necessary she +should go up to London, and advised her to do so just as soon as she +should feel herself sufficiently rested. Marian declared herself to be +already recovered of fatigue, and anxious to proceed with the business +of settlement. Their journey was thereupon fixed for the second day from +that time. And upon the appointed morning Marian, attended by the old +clergyman, set out for the mammoth capital, where, in due season, they +arrived. A few days were busily occupied amid the lumber of law +documents, before Marian felt sufficiently at ease to advise her +friends, the Holmeses, of her presence in town. Only a few hours had +elapsed, after reading her note and address, before she received a call +from Mrs. Holmes and her father, Dr. Coleman, a clergyman of high +standing in the Church of England. Friendliness and a beautiful +simplicity characterized the manners of both father and daughter. Rachel +entreated Marian to return with her and make her father's house her home +while in London. She spoke with an affectionate sincerity that Marian +could neither doubt nor resist, and when Dr. Coleman cordially seconded +his daughter's invitation, Marian gratefully accepted the proffered +hospitality. And the same day Mr. Burney bade a temporary farewell to +his favorite, and departed for Liverpool, and Marian accompanied her +friend Rachel Holmes to the house of Dr. Coleman. + + * * * * * + +We may not pause to trace minutely the labors of love in which Marian +sought at once to forget her own existence and to bless that of others. + +A few events only it will be necessary to record. + +In the very first packet of Baltimore papers received by Dr. Holmes, +Marian saw announced the marriage of Angelica Le Roy to Henry Barnwell. +She knew by the date, that it took place within two weeks after she +sailed from the shores of America. And her anxiety on that young lady's +account was set at rest. + +After a visit of two months, Dr. Holmes and his lovely wife prepared to +return to the United States. And the little fortune that Marian intended +to settle upon Edith and Miriam, was intrusted to the care of the worthy +surgeon, to be invested in bank stock for their benefit, as soon as he +should reach Baltimore. It was arranged that the donor should remain +anonymous, or be known only as a friend of Miriam's father. + +In the course of a few months, Marian's institution, "The Children's +Home," was commenced, and before the end of the first year, it was +completed and filled with inmates. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +THURSTON. + + +After a stormy passage in life comes a long calm, preceding, perhaps, +another storm. I must pass rapidly over several years. + +Thurston was a new being. He resolved to devote his time, talents and +means, first of all to carrying on and perfecting those works of +education and reform started by Marian in his own neighborhood. + +But this was a very mournful consolation, for in every thought and act +of the whole work, the memory of Marian was so intimately woven, that +her loss was felt with double keenness. Every effort was doubly +difficult; every obstacle was doubly great; every discouragement doubly +hopeless, because she was not there with her very presence inspiring +hope and energy--and every success was robbed of its joy, because she +was not there to rejoice with him. He missed her in all things; he +missed her everywhere. Solitude had fallen upon all the earth from which +she had passed away. Because her face was gone, all other faces were +repulsive to his sight; because her voice was silent, all other voices +were discordant to his ear; because her love was impossible, all other +friendships and affections were repugnant to his heart; and Thurston, +young, handsome, accomplished and wealthy, became a silent and lonely +man. + +The estate left by old Cloudesley Willcoxen had exceeded even the +reports of his hoarded wealth. The whole estate, real and personal, was +bequeathed to his eldest grandson, Thurston Willcoxen, upon the sole +condition that it should not be divided. + +Dell-Delight, with its natural beauties, was a home that wealth could +convert into a material paradise. Once it had been one of Thurston's +happiest dreams to adorn and beautify the matchless spot, and make it +worthy of Marian, its intended mistress. Now he could not bear to think +of those plans of home-beauty and happiness so interwoven with fond +thoughts of her. So poignant were the wounds of association, that he +could scarcely endure to remain in a neighborhood so filled with +reminiscences of her; and he must have fled the scene, and taken refuge +from memory in foreign travel, had he suffered from bereavement and +sorrow only; but he was tortured by remorse, and remorse demands to +suffer and to atone for sin. And, therefore, though it spiritually +seemed like being bound to a wheel and broken by its every turn, he was +true to his resolution to remain in the county and devote his time, +wealth, and abilities to the completion of Marian's unfinished works of +benevolence. + +Dell-Delight remained unaltered. He could not bear to make it beautiful, +since Marian could not enjoy its beauty. Only such changes were made as +were absolutely necessary in organizing his little household. A distant +relative, a middle-aged lady of exemplary piety, but of reduced fortune, +was engaged to come and preside at his table, and take charge of +Miriam's education, for Miriam was established at Dell-Delight. It is +true that Mrs. Waugh would have wished this arrangement otherwise. She +would have preferred to have the orphan girl with herself, but Commodore +Waugh would not even hear of Miriam's coming to Luckenough with any +patience--"For if her mother had married 'Grim,' none of these +misfortunes would have happened," he said. + +Even Jacquelina had been forced to fly from Luckenough; no one knew +wither; some said that she had run away; some knew that she had retired +to a convent; some said only to escape the din and turmoil of the world, +and find rest to her soul in a few months or years of quiet and silence, +and some said she had withdrawn for the purpose of taking the vows and +becoming a nun. Mrs. Waugh knew all about it, but she said nothing, +except to discourage inquiry upon the subject. In the midst of the +speculation following Jacquelina's disappearance, Cloudesley Mornington +had come home. He staid a day or two at Luckenough, a week at +Dell-Delight, and then took himself, with his broken heart, off from the +neighborhood, and got ordered upon a distant and active service. + +There were also other considerations that rendered it desirable for +Miriam to reside at Dell-Delight, rather than at Luckenough: Commodore +Waugh would have made a terrible guardian to a child so lately used to +the blessedness of a home with her mother--and withal, so shy and +sensitive as to breathe freely only in an atmosphere of peace and +affection, and Luckenough would have supplied a dark, and dreary home +for her whose melancholy temperament and recent bereavements rendered +change of scene and the companionship of other children, absolute +necessities. It was for these several reasons that Mrs. Waugh was forced +to consent that Thurston should carry his little adopted daughter to his +own home. Thurston's household consisted now of himself, Mrs. Morris, +his housekeeper; Alice Morris, her daughter; Paul Douglass, his own +half-brother; poor Fanny, and lastly, Miriam. + +Mrs. Morris was a lady of good family, but decayed fortune, of sober +years and exemplary piety. In closing her terms with Mr. Willcoxen, her +one great stipulation had been that she should bring her daughter, whom +she declared to be too "young and giddy" to be trusted out of her own +sight, even to a good boarding school. + +Mr. Willcoxen expressed himself rather pleased than otherwise at the +prospect of Miriam's having a companion, and so the engagement was +closed. + +Alice Morris was a hearty, cordial, blooming hoyden, really about ten or +eleven years of age, but seeming from her fine growth and proportions, +at least thirteen or fourteen. + +Paul Douglass was a fine, handsome, well-grown boy of fourteen, with an +open, manly forehead, shaded with clustering, yellow curls, as soft and +silky as a girl's, and a full, beaming, merry blue eye, whose flashing +glances were the most mirth-provoking to all upon whom they chanced to +light. Paul was, and ever since his first arrival in the house had been, +"the life of the family." His merry laugh and shout were the pleasantest +sounds in all the precincts of Dell-Delight. When Paul first heard that +there was to be an invasion of "women and girls" into Dell-Delight, he +declared he had rather there had been an irruption of the Goths and +Vandals at once--for if there were any folks he could not get along +with, they were "the gals." Besides which, he was sure now to have the +coldest seat around the fire, the darkest place at the table, the +backward ride in the carriage, and to get the necks of chickens and the +tails of fishes for his share of the dinner. Boys were always put upon +by the girls, and sorry enough he was, he said, that any were coming to +the house. And he vowed a boyish vow--"by thunder and lightning"--that +he would torment the girls to the very best of his ability. + +Girls, forsooth! girls coming to live there day and night, and eat, and +drink, and sleep, and sit, and sew, and walk up and down through the +halls, and parlors, and chambers of Dell-Delight--girls, with their +airs, and affectations, and pretensions, and exactions--girls--pah! the +idea was perfectly disgusting and offensive. He really did wonder at +"Brother," but then he already considered "Brother" something of an old +bachelor, and old bachelors would be queer. + +But Thurston well knew how to smite the rock, and open the fountain of +sympathy in the lad's heart. He said nothing in reply to the boy's saucy +objections, but on the evening that little Miriam arrived, he beckoned +Paul into the parlor, where the child sat, alone, and pointing her out +to him, said in a low tone: + +"Look at her; she has lost all her friends--she has just come from her +mother's grave--she is strange, and sad, and lonesome. Go, try to amuse +her." + +"I'm going to her, though I hardly know how," replied the lad, moving +toward the spot where the abstracted child sat deeply musing. + +"Miriam! Is that your name," he asked, by way of opening the +conversation. + +"Yes," replied the child, very softly and shyly. + +"It's a very heathenish--oh, Lord!--I mean it's a very pretty name is +Miriam, it's a Bible name, too. I don't know but what it's a saint's +name also." + +The little girl made no reply, and the boy felt at a loss what to say +next. After fidgeting from one foot to the other he began again. + +"Miriam, shall I show you my books--Scott's poems, and the Waverley +novels, and Milton's Paradise, and--" + +"No, I thank you," interrupted the girl, uneasily. + +"Well, would you like to see my pictures--two volumes of engravings, and +a portfolio full of sketches?" + +"No, thank you." + +"Shall I bring you my drawer full of minerals? I have got--" + +"I don't want them, please." + +"Well, then, would you like the dried bugs? I've got whole cards of them +under a glass case, and--" + +"I don't want them either, please." + +"Dear me! I have not got anything else to amuse you with. What do you +want?" exclaimed Paul, and he walked off in high dudgeon. + +The next day fortune favored Paul in his efforts to please Miriam. He +had a tame white rabbit, and he thought that the child would like it for +a pet--so he got up very early in the morning, and washed the rabbit +"clean as a new penny," and put it under a new box to get dry while he +rode to C---- and bought a blue ribbon to tie around its neck. This jaunt +made Paul very late at breakfast, but he felt rewarded when afterward he +gave the rabbit to old Jenny, and asked her to give it to the little +girl--and when he heard the latter say--"Oh, what a pretty little thing! +tell Paul, thanky!" After this, by slow degrees, he was enabled to +approach "the little blackbird" without alarming her. And after a while +he coaxed her to take a row in his little boat, and a ride on his little +pony--always qualifying his attentions by saying that he did not like +girls as a general thing, but that she was different from others. And +Mr. Willcoxen witnessed, with much satisfaction, the growing friendship +between the girl and boy, for they were the two creatures in the world +who divided all the interest he felt in life. The mutual effect of the +children upon each other's characters was very beneficent; the gay and +joyous spirits of Paul continually charmed Miriam away from those fits +of melancholy, to which she was by temperament and circumstances a prey, +while the little girl's shyness and timidity taught Paul to tame his own +boisterous manners for her sake. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Waugh had not forgotten her young _protege_. She came as often as +possible to Dell-Delight, to inquire after the health and progress of +the little girl. + +It is not to be supposed, in any neighborhood where there existed +managing mammas and unmarried daughters, that a young gentleman, +handsome, accomplished, wealthy, and of good repute, should remain +unmolested in his bachelorhood. Indeed, the matrons and maidens of his +own circle seemed to think themselves individually aggrieved by the +young heir's mode of life. And many were the dinners and evening parties +got up for his sake, in vain, for to their infinite disgust, Thurston +always returned an excuse instead of an acceptance. + +At length the wounded self-esteem of the community received a healing +salve, in the form of a report that Mr. Willcoxen had withdrawn from the +gay world, in order the better to prepare himself for the Christian +ministry. A report that, in twelve months, received its confirmation in +the well established fact that Thurston Willcoxen was a candidate for +holy orders. + +And in the meantime the young guardian did not neglect his youthful +charge, but in strict interpretation of his assumed duties of +guardianship, he had taken the education of the girl and boy under his +own personal charge. + +"Many hard-working ministers of the Gospel have received pupils to +educate for hire. Why may not I, with more time at my command, reserve +the privilege of educating my own adopted son and daughter," he said, +and acting upon that thought, had fitted up a little school-room +adjoining his library, where, in the presence of Mrs. Morris, Miriam and +Paul pursued their studies, Mrs. Morris hearing such recitations as lay +within her province, and Mr. Willcoxen attending to the classical and +mathematical branches. Thus passed many months, and every month the +hearts of the children were knitted closer to each other and to their +guardian. + +And Thurston Willcoxen "grew in favor, with God and man." His name +became the synonym for integrity, probity and philanthropy. He built a +church and a free-school, and supported both at his own expense. In the +third year after entering upon his inheritance, he was received into +holy orders; and two years after, he was elected pastor of his native +parish. Thus time went by, and brought at length the next eventful epoch +of our domestic history--that upon which Miriam completed her sixteenth +year. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +MIRIAM. + + +Six years had passed away. Thurston Willcoxen was the most beloved and +honored man, as well as the most distinguished clergyman of his day and +state. His church was always crowded, except when he changed with some +brother minister, whose pulpit was within reach--in which case, a great +portion of his congregation followed him. Many flattering "calls" had +the gifted and eloquent country parson received to metropolitan +parishes; but he remained the faithful shepherd of his own flock as long +as they would hear his voice. + +As Miriam grew into womanhood prudence kept her silent on the subject of +her strange vow. She, however, preserved in her memory the slight +indexes that she already had in possession--namely, beginning with +Marian's return after her visit to Washington--her changed manner, her +fits of reverie, her melancholy when she returned empty-handed from the +post-office, her joy when she received letters, which she would read in +secret and in silence, or when questioned concerning them, would gently +but firmly decline to tell from whom or whence they came; the +house-warming at Luckenough, where Marian suddenly became so bright and +gay, and the evening succeeding, when she returned home through night +and storm, and in such anguish of mind, that she wept all night; and the +weeks of unexplained, unaccountable distress that followed this! All +these things Miriam recalled, and studied if by any means they might +direct her in the discovery of the guilty. + +And her faithful study had ended in her assurance of one or two +facts--or one or two links, perhaps, we should say, in the chain of +evidence. The first was, that Marian's mysterious lover had been present +in the neighborhood, and perhaps, in the mansion at the time of the +house-warming at Luckenough--that he had met her once or more, and that +his name was not Thomas Truman--that the latter was an assumed name, +for, with all her observation and astute investigation, she had not been +able to find that any one of the name of Truman had ever been seen or +heard of in the county. + +She was sure, also, that she had seen the man twice, both times in night +and storm, when she had wandered forth in search of Marian. + +She remembered well the strange figure of that man--the tall form +shrouded in the black cloak--the hat drawn over the eyes--the faint +spectral gleam of the clear-cut profile--the peculiar fall of light and +shade, the decided individuality of air and gait--all was distinct as a +picture in her memory, and she felt sure that she would be able to +identify that man again. + +Up to this time, the thought of her secret vow, and her life's mission, +had afforded only a romantic and heroic excitement; but the day was fast +approaching when these indexes she retained, should point to a clue that +should lead through a train of damning circumstantial evidence destined +to test her soul by an unexampled trial. + +Paul Douglass had grown up to be a tall and handsome youth, of a very +noble, frank, attractive countenance and manners. To say that he loved +Miriam is only to say that he loved himself. She mingled with every +thought, and feeling, and purpose of his heart. + +And when, at last, the time came that Paul had to leave home for +Baltimore, to remain absent all winter, for the purpose of attending the +course of lectures at the medical college, Miriam learned the pain of +parting, and understood how impossible happiness would be for her, with +Paul away, on naval or military duty, more than half their lives, and +for periods of two, three, or five years; and after that she never said +another word in favor of his wearing Uncle Sam's livery, although she +had often expressed a wish that he should enter the army. + +Miriam's affection for Paul was so profound and quiet, that she did not +know its depth or strength. As she had not believed that parting from +him would be painful until the event had taught her, so even now she did +not know how intertwined with every chord and fibre of her heart and how +identical with her life, was her love for Paul. She was occupied by a +more enthusiastic devotion to her "brother," as she called her guardian. + +The mysterious sorrow, the incurable melancholy of a man like Thurston +Willcoxen, could not but invest him with peculiar interest and even +strange fascination for one of Miriam's enthusiastic, earnest +temperament. She loved him with more than a daughter's love; she loved +him with all the impassioned earnestness of her nature; her heart +yearned as it would break with its wild, intense longing to do him some +good, to cure his sorrow, to make him happy. There were moments when but +for the sweet shyness that is ever the attendant and conservator of such +pure feeling, this wild desire was strong enough to cast her at his +feet, to embrace his knees, and with tears beseech him to let her into +that dark, sorrowful bosom, to see if she could make any light and joy +there. She feared that he had sinned, that his incurable sorrow was the +gnawing tooth of that worm that never dieth, preying on his heart; but +she doubted, too, for what could he have done to plunge his soul in such +a hell of remorse? He commit a crime? Impossible! the thought was +treason; a sin to be repented of and expiated. His fame was fairest of +the fair, his name most honored among the, honorable. If not remorse, +what then was the nature of his life-long sorrow? Many, many times she +revolved this question in her mind. And as she matured in thought and +affection, the question grew more earnest and importunate. Oh, that he +would unburden his heart to her; oh! that she might share and alleviate +his griefs. If "all earnest desires are prayers," then prayer was +Miriam's "vital breath and native air" indeed; her soul earnestly +desired, prayed, to be able to give her sorrowing brother peace. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +DREAMS AND VISIONS. + + +Winter waned. Mrs. Waugh had attended the commodore to the South, for +the benefit of his health, and they had not yet returned. + +Mrs. Morris and Alice were absent on a long visit to a relative in +Washington City, and were not expected back for a month. Paul remained +in Baltimore, attending the medical lectures. + +The house at Dell-Delight was very sad and lonely. The family consisted +of only Thurston, Fanny and Miriam. + +A change had also passed over poor Fanny's malady. She was no longer the +quaint, fantastical creature, half-lunatic, half-seeress, singing +snatches of wild songs through the house--now here, now there--now +everywhere, awaking smiles and merriment in spite of pity, and keeping +every one alive about her. Her bodily health had failed, her animal +spirits departed; she never sang nor smiled, but sat all day in her +eyrie chamber, lost in deep and concentrated study, her face having the +care-worn look of one striving to recall the past, to gather up and +reunite the broken links of thought, memory and understanding. + +At last, one day, Miriam received a letter from Paul, announcing the +termination, of the winter's course of lectures, the conclusion of the +examination of medical candidates, the successful issue of his own +trial, in the acquisition of his diploma, and finally his speedy return +home. + +Miriam's impulsive nature rebounded from all depressing thoughts, and +she looked forward with gladness to the arrival of Paul. + +He came toward the last of the week. + +Mr. Willcoxen, roused for a moment from his sad abstraction, gave the +youth a warm welcome. + +Miriam received him with a bashful, blushing joy. + +He had passed through Washington City on his way home, and had spent a +day with Mrs. Morris and her friends, and he had brought away strange +news of them. + +Alice, he said, had an accepted suitor, and would probably be a bride +soon. + +A few days after his return, Paul found Miriam in the old wainscoted +parlor seated by the fire. She appeared to be in deep and painful +thought. Her elbow rested on the circular work-table, her head was bowed +upon her hand, and her face was concealed by the drooping black +ringlets. + +"What is the matter, dear, sister?" he asked, in that tender, familiar +tone, with which he sometimes spoke to her. + +"Oh, Paul, I am thinking of our brother! Can nothing soothe or cheer +him, Paul? Can nothing help him? Can we do him no good at all? Oh, Paul! +I brood so much over his trouble! I long so much to comfort him, that I +do believe it is beginning to affect my reason, and make me 'see visions +and dream dreams.' Tell me--do you think anything can be done for him?" + +"Ah, I do not know! I have just left his study, dear Miriam, where I +have had a long and serious conversation with him." + +"And what was it about? May I know?" + +"You must know, dearest Miriam, it concerned yourself and--me!" said +Paul, and he took a seat by her side, and told her how much he loved +her, and that he had Thurston's consent to asking her hand in marriage. + +Miriam replied: + +"Paul, there is one secret that I have never imparted to you--not that I +wished to keep it from you, but that nothing has occurred to call it +out--" + +She paused, while Paul regarded her in much curiosity. + +"What is it, Miriam?" he at last inquired. + +"I promised my dying mother, and sealed the promise with an oath, never +to be a bride until I shall have been--" + +"What, Miriam?" + +"An avenger of blood!" + +"Miriam!" + +It was all he said, and then he remained gazing at her, as if he doubted +her perfect sanity. + +"I am not mad, dear Paul, though you look as if you thought so." + +"Explain yourself, dear Miriam." + +"I am going to do so. You remember Marian Mayfield?" she said, her face +beginning to quiver with emotion. + +"Yes! yes! well?" + +"You remember the time and manner of her death?" + +"Yes--yes!" + +"Oh, Paul! that stormy night death fell like scattering lightning, and +struck three places at once! But, oh, Paul! such was the consternation +and grief excited by the discovery of Marian's assassination, that the +two other sudden deaths passed almost unnoticed, except by the +respective families of the deceased. Child as I then was, Paul, I think +it was the tremendous shock of her sudden and dreadful death, that threw +me entirely out of my center, so that I have been erratic ever since. +She was more than a mother to me, Paul; and if I had been born hers, I +could not have loved her better--I loved her beyond all things in life. +In my dispassionate, reflective moments. I am inclined to believe that I +have never been quite right since the loss of Marian. Not but that I am +reconciled to it--knowing that she must be happy--only, Paul, I often +feel that something is wrong here and here," said Miriam, placing her +hand upon her forehead and upon her heart. + +"But your promise, Miriam--your promise," questioned Paul, with +increased anxiety. + +"Ay, true! Well, Paul, I promised to devote my whole life to the pursuit +and apprehension of her murderer; and never to give room in my bosom to +any thought of love or marriage until that murderer should hang from n +gallows; and I sealed that promise with a solemn oath." + +"That was all very strange, dear Miriam." + +"Paul, yes it was--and it weighs upon me like lead. Paul, if two things +could be lifted off my heart, I should be happy. I should be happy as a +freed bird." + +"And what are they, dear Miriam? What weights are they that I have not +power to lift from your heart?" + +"Surely you may surmise--the first is our brother's sadness that +oppresses my spirits all the time; the second is the memory of that +unaccomplished vow; so equally do these two anxieties divide my +thoughts, that they seem connected--seem to be parts of the same +responsibility--and I even dreamed that the one could be accomplished +only with the other." + +"Dearest Miriam, let me assure you, that such dreams and visions are but +the effect of your isolated life--they come from an over-heated brain +and over-strained nerves. And you must consent to throw off those +self-imposed weights, and be happy and joyous as a young creature +should." + +"Alas, how can I throw them off, dear Paul?" + +"In this way--first, for my brother's life-long sorrow, since you can +neither cure nor alleviate it, turn your thoughts away from it. As for +your vow, two circumstances combine to absolve you from it; the first is +this--that you were an irresponsible infant, when you were required to +make it--the second is, that it is impossible to perform it; these two +considerations fairly release you from its obligations. Look upon these +matters in this rational light, and all your dark and morbid dreams and +visions will disappear; and we shall have you joyous as any young bird, +sure enough. And I assure you, that your cheerfulness will be one of the +very best medicines for our brother. Will you follow my advice?" + +"No, no, Paul! I cannot follow it in either instance! I cannot, Paul! it +is impossible! I cannot steel my heart against sympathy with his +sorrows, nor can I so ignore the requirements of my solemn vow. I do not +by any means think its accomplishment an impossibility, nor was it in +ignorance of its nature that I made it. No, Paul! I knew what I +promised, and I know that its performance is possible. Therefore I can +not feel absolved! I must accomplish my work; and you, Paul, if you love +me, must help me to do it." + +"I would serve you with my life, Miriam, in anything reasonable and +possible. But how can I help you? How can you discharge such an +obligation? You have not even a clue!" + +"Yes, I have a clue, Paul." + +"You have? What is it? Why have you never spoken of it before?" + +"Because of its seeming unimportance. The clue is so slight, that it +would be considered none at all, by others less interested than myself." + +"What is it, then? At least allow me the privilege of knowing, and +judging of its importance." + +"I am about to do so," said Miriam, and she commenced and told him all +she knew, and also all she suspected of the circumstances that preceded +the assassination on the beach. In conclusion, she informed him of the +letters in her possession. + +"And where are now those letters, Miriam? What are they like? What is +their purport? It seems to me that they would not only give a hint, but +afford direct evidence against that demoniac assassin. And it seems +strange to me that they were not examined, with a view to that end." + +"Paul, they were; but they did not point out the writer, even. There was +a note among them--a note soliciting a meeting with Marian, upon the +very evening, and upon the very spot when and where the murder was +committed! But that note contains nothing to indicate the identity of +its author. There are, besides, a number of foreign letters written in +French, and signed 'Thomas Truman,' no French name, by-the-bye, a +circumstance which leads me to believe that it must have been an assumed +one." + +"And those French letters give no indication of the writer, either?" + +"I am not sufficiently acquainted with that language to read it in +manuscript, which, you know, is much more difficult than print. But I +presume they point to nothing definitely, for my dear mother showed them +to Mr. Willcoxen, who took the greatest interest in the discovery of the +murderer, and he told her that those letters afforded not the slightest +clue to the perpetrator of the crime, and that whoever might have been +the assassin, it certainly could not have been the author of those +letters. He wished to take them with him, but mother declined to give +them up; she thought it would be disrespect to Marian's memory to give +her private correspondence up to a stranger, and so she told him. He +then said that of all men, certainly he had the least right to claim +them, and so the matter rested. But mother always believed they held the +key to the discovery of the guilty party; and afterward she left them to +me, with the charge that I should never suffer them to pass from my +possession until they had fulfilled their destiny of witnessing against +the murderer--for whatever Mr. Willcoxen might think, mother felt +convinced that the writer of those letters and the murderer of Marian +was the same person." + +"Tell me more about those letters." + +"Dear Paul, I know nothing more about them; I told you that I was not +sufficiently familiar with the French language to read them." + +"But it is strange that you never made yourself acquainted with their +contents by getting some one else to read them for you." + +"Dear Paul, you know that I was a mere child when they first came into +my possession, accompanied with the charge that I should never part with +them until they had done their office. I felt bound by my promise, I was +afraid of losing them, and of those persons that I could trust none knew +French, except our brother, and he had already pronounced them +irrelevant to the question. Besides, for many reasons, I was shy of +intruding upon brother." + +"Does he know that you have the packet?" + +"I suppose he does not even know that." + +"I confess," said Paul, "that if Thurston believed them to have no +connection with the murder, I have so much confidence in his excellent +judgment, that I am inclined to reverse my hasty opinion, and to think +as he does, at least until I see the letters. I remember, too, that the +universal opinion at the time was that the poor young lady had fallen a +victim to some marauding waterman--the most likely thing to have +happened. But, to satisfy you, Miriam, if you will trust me with those +letters, I will give them a thorough and impartial study, and then, if I +find no clue to the perpetrator of that diabolical deed, I hope, Miriam, +that you will feel yourself free from the responsibility of pursuing the +unknown demon--a pursuit which I consider worse than a wild-goose +chase." + +They were interrupted by the entrance of the boy with the mail bag. Paul +emptied the contents of it upon the table. There were letters for Mr. +Willcoxen, for Miriam, and for Paul himself. Those for Mr. Willcoxen +were sent up to him by the boy. Miriam's letter was from Alice Morris, +announcing her approaching marriage with Olive Murray, a young lawyer of +Washington, and inviting and entreating Miriam to come to the city and +be her bridesmaid. Paul's letters were from some of his medical +classmates. By the time they had read and discussed the contents of +their epistles, a servant came in to replenish the fire and lay the +cloth for tea. + +When Mr. Willcoxen joined them at supper, he laid a letter on Miriam's +lap, informing her that it was from Mrs. Morris, who advised them of her +daughter's intended marriage, and prayed them to be present at the +ceremony. Miriam replied that she had received a communication to the +same effect. + +"Then, my dear, we will go up to Washington and pass a few weeks, and +attend this wedding, and see the inauguration of Gen. ----. You lead too +lonely a life for one of your years, love. I see it affects your health +and spirits. I have been too selfish and oblivious of you, in my +abstraction, dear child; but it shall be so no longer. You shall enter +upon the life better suited to your age." + +Miriam's eyes thanked his care. For many a day Thurston had not come +thus far out of himself, and his doing so now was hailed as a happy omen +by the young people. + +Their few preparations were soon completed, and on the first of March +they went to Washington City. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +DISCOVERIES. + + +On arriving at Washington, our party drove immediately to the Mansion +House, where they had previously secured rooms. + +The city was full of strangers from all parts of the country, drawn +together by the approaching inauguration of one of the most popular +Presidents that ever occupied the White House. + +As soon as our party made known their arrival to their friends, they +were inundated with calls and invitations. Brother clergymen called upon +Mr. Willcoxen, and pressed upon him the freedom of their houses. Alice +Morris and Mrs. Moulton, the relative with whom she was staying, called +upon Miriam, and insisted that she should go home with them, to remain +until after the wedding. But these offers of hospitality were gratefully +declined by the little set, who preferred to remain together at their +hotel. + +The whole scene of metropolitan life, in its most stirring aspect, was +entirely new and highly interesting to our rustic beauty. Amusements of +every description were rife. The theatres, exhibition halls, saloons and +concert rooms held out their most attractive temptations, and night +after night were crowded with the gay votaries of fashion and of +pleasure. While the churches, and lyceums, and lecture-rooms had greater +charms for the more seriously inclined. The old and the young, the grave +and the gay, found no lack of occupation, amusement and instruction to +suit their several tastes or varying moods. The second week of their +visit, the marriage of Alice Morris and Oliver Murray came off, Miriam +serving as bridesmaid, Dr. Douglass as groomsman, and Mr. Willcoxen as +officiating minister. + +But it is not with these marriage festivities that we have to do, but +with the scenes that immediately succeed them. + +From the time of Mr. Willcoxen's arrival in the city, he had not ceased +to exercise his sacred calling. His fame had long before preceded him to +the capital, and since his coming he had been frequently solicited to +preach and to lecture. + +Not from love of notoriety--not from any such ill-placed, vain glory, +but from the wish to relieve some overtasked brother of the heat and +burden of at least one day; and possibly by presenting truth in a newer +and stronger light to do some good, did Thurston Willcoxen, Sabbath +after Sabbath, and evening after evening, preach in the churches or +lecture before the lyceum. Crowds flocked to hear him, the press spoke +highly of his talents and his eloquence, the people warmly echoed the +opinion, and Mr. Willcoxen, against his inclination, became the clerical +celebrity of the day. + +But from all this unsought world-worship he turned away a weary, +sickened, sorrowing man. + +There was but one thing in all "the world outside" that strongly +interested him--it was a "still small voice," a low-toned, sweet music, +keeping near the dear mother earth and her humble children, yet echoed +and re-echoed from sphere to sphere--it was the name of a lady, young, +lovely, accomplished and wealthy, who devoted herself, her time, her +talents and her fortune, to the cause of suffering humanity. + +This young lady, whose beauty, goodness, wisdom, eloquence and powers of +persuasion were rumored to be almost miraculous, had founded schools and +asylums, and had collected by subscription a large amount of money, with +which she was coming to America, to select and purchase a tract of land +to settle a colony of the London poor. This angel girl's name and fame +was a low, sweet echo, as I said before--never noisy, never rising +high--keeping near the ground. People spoke of her in quiet places, and +dropped their voices to gentle tones in mentioning her and her works. +Such was the spell it exercised over them. This lady's name possessed +the strangest fascination for Thurston Willcoxen; he read eagerly +whatever was written of her; he listened with interest to whatever was +spoken of her. Her name! it was that of his loved and lost Marian!--that +in itself was a spell, but that was not the greatest charm--her +character resembled that of his Marian! + +"How like my Marian?" would often be the language of his heart, when +hearing of her deeds. "Even so would my Marian have done--had she been +born to fortune, as this lady was." + +The name was certainly common enough, yet the similarity of both names +and natures inclined him to the opinion that this angel-woman must be +some distant and more fortunate relative of his own lost Marian. He felt +drawn toward the unknown lady by a strong and almost irresistible +attraction; and he secretly resolved to see and know her, and pondered +in his heart ways and means by which he might, with propriety, seek her +acquaintance. + +While thus he lived two lives--the outer life of work and usefulness, +and the inner life of thought and suffering--the young people of his +party, hoping and believing him to be enjoying the honors heaped upon +him, yielded themselves up to the attractions of society. + +Miriam spent much of her time with her friend, Alice Murray. + +One morning, when she called on Alice, the latter invited her visitor up +into her own chamber, and seating her there, said, with a mysterious +air: + +"Do you know, Miriam, that I have something--the strangest thing that +ever was--that I have been wanting to tell you for three or four days, +only I never got an opportunity to do so, because Olly or some one was +always present? But now Olly has gone to court, and mother has gone to +market, and you and I can have a cozy chat to ourselves." + +She stopped to stir the fire, and Miriam quietly waited for her to +proceed. + +"Now, why in the world don't you ask me for my secret? I declare you +take so little interest, and show so little curiosity, that it is not a +bit of fun to hint a mystery to you. Do you want to hear, or don't you? +I assure you it is a tremendous revelation, and it concerns you, too!" + +"What is it, then? I am anxious to hear?" + +"Oh! you do begin to show a little interest; and now, to punish you, I +have a great mind not to tell you; however, I will take pity upon your +suspense; but first, you must promise never, never, n-e-v-e-r to mention +it again--will you promise?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, then, listen. Stop! get a good place to faint first, and then +listen. Are you ready? One, two, three, fire. The Rev. Thurston +Willcoxen is a married man!" + +"What!" + +"Mr. Thurston Willcoxen has been married for eight years past." + +"Pshaw!" + +"Mr. Willcoxen was married eight years ago this spring at a little +Methodist chapel near the navy yard of this city, and by an old +Methodist preacher, of the name of John Berry." + +"You are certainly mad!" + +"I am not mad, most noble 'doubter,' but speak the words of truth and +soberness. Mr. Willcoxen was married privately, when and where I said, +to a beautiful, fair-haired lady, whose name heard in the ritual was +Marian. And my husband, Olly Murray, was the secret witness of that +private marriage." + +A wild scream, that seemed to split the heart from whence it arose, +broke from the lips of Miriam; springing forward, she grasped the wrist +of Alice, and with her wild eyes starting, straining from their sockets, +gazed into he face, crying: + +"Tell me! tell me! that you have jested! tell me that you have lied? +Speak! speak!" + +"I told you the Lord's blessed truth, and Oily knows it. But Miriam, for +goodness sake don't look that way--you scare me almost to death! And, +whatever you do, never let anybody know that I told you this; because, +if you did, Olly would be very much grieved at me; for he confided it to +me as a dead secret, and bound me up to secrecy, too; but I thought as +it concerned you so much, it would be no harm to tell you, if you would +not tell it again; and so when I was promising, I made a mental +reservation in favor of yourself. And so I have told you; and now you +mustn't betray me, Miriam." + +"It is false! all that you have told me is false! say that It is false! +tell me so! speak! speak!" cried Miriam, wildly. + +"It is not false--it is true as Gospel, every word of it--nor is it any +mistake. Because Olly saw the whole thing, and told me all about it. The +way of it was, that Olly overheard them in the Congressional Library +arranging the marriage--the gentleman was going to depart for Europe, +and wished to secure the lady's hand before he went--and at the same +time, for some reason or other, he wished the marriage to be kept +secret. Olly owns that it was none of his business, but that curiosity +got the upper hand of him, so he listened, and he heard them call each +other 'Thurston' and 'Marian'--and when they left the library, he +followed them--and so, unseen, he witnessed the private marriage +ceremony, at which they still answered to the names of 'Thurston' and +'Marian.' He did not hear their surnames. He never saw the bride again; +and he never saw the bridegroom until he saw Mr. Willcoxen at our +wedding. The moment Olly saw him he knew that he had seen him before, +but could not call to mind when or where; and the oftener he looked at +him, the more convinced he became that he had seen him first under some +very singular circumstances. And when at last lie heard his first name +called 'Thurston,' the whole truth flashed on him at once. He remembered +everything connected with the mysterious marriage. I wonder what Mr. +Willcoxen has done with his Marian? or whether she died or whether she +lives? or where he hides her? Well, some men are a mystery--don't you +think so, Miriam?" + +But only deep and shuddering groans, upheaving from the poor girl's +bosom, answered her. + +"Miriam! Oh, don't go on so! what do you mean? Indeed you alarm me! oh, +don't take it so to heart! indeed, I wouldn't, if I were you! I should +think it the funniest kind of fun? Miriam, I say!" + +She answered not--she had sunk down on the floor, utterly crushed by the +weight of misery that had fallen upon her. + +"Miriam! now what in the world do you mean by this? Why do you yield so? +I would not do it. I know it is bad to be disappointed of an expected +inheritance, and to find out that some one else has a greater claim, +but, indeed, I would not take it to heart so, if I were you. Why, if he +is married, he may not have a family, and even if he has, he may not +utterly disinherit you, and even if he should, I would not grieve myself +to death about it if I were you! Miriam, look up, I say!" + +But the hapless girl replied not, heard not, heeded not; deaf, blind, +insensible was she to all--everything but to that sharp, mental grief, +that seemed so like physical pain; that fierce anguish of the breast, +that, like an iron band, seemed to clutch and close upon her heart, +tighter, tighter, tighter, until it stopped the current of her blood, +and arrested her breath, and threw her into convulsions. + +Alice sprang to raise her, then ran down-stairs to procure restoratives +and assistance. In the front hall she met Dr. Douglass, who had just +been admitted by the waiter. To his pleasant greeting, she replied +hastily, breathlessly: + +"Oh, Paul! come--come quickly up stairs! Miriam has fallen into +convulsions, and I am frightened out of my senses!" + +"What caused her illness?" asked Paul, in alarm and anxiety, as he ran +up stairs, preceded by Alice. + +"Oh, I don't know!" answered Alice, but thought to herself: "It could +not have been what I said to her, and if it was, I must not tell." + +The details of sickness are never interesting. I shall not dwell upon +Miriam's illness of several weeks; the doctors pronounced it to be +_angina pectoris_--a fearful and often fatal complaint, brought on in +those constitutionally predisposed to it, by any sudden shock to mind or +body. What could have caused its attack upon Miriam, they could not +imagine. And Alice Murray, in fear and doubt, held her tongue and kept +her own counsel. In all her illness, Miriam's reason was not for a +moment clouded--it seemed preternaturally awake; but she spoke not, and +it was observed that if Mr. Willcoxen, who was overwhelmed with distress +by her dreadful illness, approached her bedside and touched her person, +she instantly fell into spasms. In grief and dismay, Thurston's eyes +asked of all around an explanation of this strange and painful +phenomenon; but none could tell him, except the doctor, who pronounced +it the natural effect of the excessive nervous irritability attending +her disease, and urged Mr. Willcoxen to keep away from her chamber. And +Thurston sadly complied. + +Youth, and an elastic constitution, prevailed over disease, and Miriam +was raised from the bed of death; but so changed in person and in +manner, that you would scarcely have recognized her. She was thinner, +but not paler--an intense consuming fire burned in and out upon her +cheek, and smouldered and flashed from her eye. Self-concentrated and +reserved, she replied not at all, or only in monosyllables, to the words +addressed to her, and withdrew more into herself. + +At length, Dr. Douglass advised their return home. And therefore they +set out, and upon the last of March, approached Dell-Delight. + +The sky was overcast, the ground was covered with snow, the weather was +damp, and very cold for the last of March. As evening drew on, and the +leaden sky lowered, and the chill damp penetrated the comfortable +carriage in which they traveled, Mr. Willcoxen redoubled his attentions +to Miriam, carefully wrapping her cloak and furs about her, and letting +down the leathern blinds and the damask hangings, to exclude the cold; +but Miriam shrank from his touch, and shivered more than before, and +drew closely into her own corner. + +"Poor child, the cold nips and shrivels her as it does a tropical +flower," said Thurston, desisting from his efforts after he had tucked a +woolen shawl around her feet. + +"It is really very unseasonable weather--there is snow in the +atmosphere. I don't wonder it pinches Miriam," said Paul Douglass. + +Ah! they did not either of them know that it was a spiritual fever and +ague alternately burning and freezing her very heart's blood--hope and +fear, love and loathing, pity and horror, that striving together made a +pandemonium of her young bosom. Like a flight of fiery arrows came the +coincidences of the tale she had heard, and the facts she knew. That +spring, eight years before, Mr. Murray said he had, unseen, witnessed +the marriage of Thurston Willcoxen and Marian. That spring, eight years +before, she knew Mr. Willcoxen and Miss Mayfield had been together on a +visit to the capital. Thurston had gone to Europe, Marian had returned +home, but had never seemed the same since her visit to the city. The +very evening of the house-warming at Luckenough, where Marian had +betrayed so much emotion, Thurston had suddenly returned, and presented +himself at that mansion. Yet in all the months that followed she had +never seen Thurston and Marian together, Thurston was paying marked and +constant attention to Miss Le Roy, while Marian's heart was consuming +with a secret sorrow and anxiety that she refused to communicate even to +Edith. How distinctly came back to her mind those nights when, lying by +Marian's side, she had put her hand over upon her face and felt the +tears on her cheeks. Those tears! The recollection of them now, and in +this connection, filled her heart with indescribable emotion. Her +mother, too, had died in the belief that Marian had fallen by the hands +of her lover or her husband. Lastly, upon the same night of Marian's +murder, Thurston Willcoxen had been unaccountably absent, during the +whole night, from the deathbed of his grandfather. And then his +incurable melancholy from that day to this--his melancholy augmented to +anguish at the annual return of this season. + +And then rising, in refutation of all this evidence, was his own +irreproachable life and elevated character. + +Ah! but she had, young, as she was, heard of such cases before--how in +some insanity of selfishness or frenzy of passion, a crime had been +perpetrated by one previously and afterward irreproachable in conduct. +Piercing wound after wound smote these thoughts like swift coming +arrows. + +A young, immature woman, a girl of seventeen, in whose warm nature +passion and imagination so largely predominated over intellect, was but +too liable to have her reason shaken from its seat by the ordeal through +which she was forced to go. + +As night descended, and they drew near Dell-Delight, the storm that had +been lowering all the afternoon came upon them. The wind, the hail, and +the snow, and the snow-drifts continually forming, rendered the roads, +that were never very good, now nearly impassable. + +More and more obstructed, difficult and unrecognizable became their way, +until at last, when within an eighth of a mile from the house, the +horses stepped off the road into a covered gully, and the carriage was +over-turned and broken. + +"Miriam! dear Miriam! dear child, are you hurt?" was the first anxious +exclamation of both gentlemen. + +No one was injured; the coach lay upon its left side, and the right side +door was over their heads. Paul climbed out first, and then gave his +hand to Miriam, whom Mr. Willcoxen assisted up to the window. Lastly +followed Thurston. The horses had kicked themselves free of the carriage +and stood kicking yet. + +"Two wheels and the pole are broken--nothing can be done to remove the +carriage to-night. You had better leave the horses where they are, Paul, +and let us hurry on to get Miriam under shelter first, then we can send +some one to fetch them home." + +They were near the park gate, and the road from there to the mansion was +very good. Paul was busy in bundling Miriam up in her cloak, shawls and +furs. And then Mr. Willcoxen approached to raise her in his arms, and +take her through the snow; but-- + +"No! no!" said Miriam, shuddering and crouching closely to Paul. Little +knowing her thoughts, Mr. Willcoxen slightly smiled, and pulling his hat +low over his eyes, and turning up his fur collar and wrapping his cloak +closely around him, he strode on rapidly before them. The snow was +blowing in their faces, but drawing Miriam fondly to his side, Paul +hurried after him. + +When they reached the park gate, Thurston was laboring to open it +against the drifted snow. He succeeded, and pushed the gate back to let +them pass. Miriam, as she went through, raised her eyes to his form. + +There he stood, in night and storm, his tall form shrouded in the long +black cloak--the hat drawn over his eyes, the faint spectral gleam of +the snow striking upward to his clear-cut profile, the peculiar fall of +ghostly light and shade, the strong individuality of air and attitude. + +With a half-stifled shriek, Miriam recognized the distinct picture of +the man she had seen twice before with Marian. + +"What is the matter, love? Were you near falling? Give me your arm, +Miriam--you need us both to help you through this storm," said Thurston, +approaching her. + +But with a shiver that ran through all her frame, Miriam shrank closer +to Paul, who, with affectionate pride, renewed his care, and promised +that she should not slip again. + +So link after link of the fearful evidence wound itself around her +consciousness, which struggled against it, like Laocoon in the fatal +folds of the serpent. + +Now cold as if the blood were turned to ice in her veins, now burning as +if they ran fire, she was hurried on into the house. + +They were expected home, and old Jenny had fires in all the occupied +rooms, and supper ready to go on the table, that was prepared in the +parlor. + +But Miriam refused all refreshment, and hurried to her room. It was +warmed and lighted by old Jenny's care, and the good creature followed +her young mistress with affectionate proffers of aid. + +"Wouldn't she have a strong cup of tea? Wouldn't she have a hot bath? +Wouldn't she have her bed warmed? Wouldn't she have a bowl of nice hot +mulled wine? Dear, dear! she was so sorry, but it would have frightened +herself to death if the carriage had upset with her, and no wonder Miss +Miriam was knocked up entirely." + +"No, no, no!" + +Miriam would have nothing, and old Jenny reluctantly left her--to +repose? Ah, no! with fever in her veins, to walk up and down and up and +down the floor of her room with fearful unrest. Up and down, until the +candle burned low, and sunk drowned in its socket; until the fire on the +hearth smouldered and went out; until the stars in the sky waned with +the coming day; until the rising sun kindled all the eastern horizon; +and then, attired as she was, she sank upon the outside of her bed and +fell into a heavy sleep of exhaustion. + +She arose unrefreshed, and after a hasty toilet descended to the +breakfast-parlor, where she knew the little family awaited her. + +"The journey and the fright have been too much for you, love; you look +very weary; you should have rested longer this morning," said Mr. +Willcoxen, affectionately, as he arose and met her and led her to the +most comfortable seat near the fire. + +His fine countenance, elevated, grave and gentle in expression, his kind +and loving manner, smote all the tender chords of Miriam's heart. + +Could that man be guilty of the crime she had dared to suspect him of? + +Oh, no, no, no! never! Every lineament of his face, every inflection of +his voice, as well as every act of his life, and every trait of his +character, forbade the dreadful imputation! + +But then the evidence--the damning evidence! Her reeled with the doubt +as she sank into the seat he offered her. + +"Ring for breakfast, Paul! Our little housekeeper will feel better when +she gets a cup of coffee." + +But Miriam sprang up to anticipate him, and drew her chair to the table, +and nervously began to arrange the cups and put sugar and cream into +them, with the vague feeling that she must act as usual to avoid calling +observation upon herself, for if questioned, how could she answer +inquiries, and whom could she make a confidant in her terrible +suspicions? + +And so through the breakfast scene, and so through the whole day she +sought to exercise self-control. But could her distress escape the +anxious, penetrating eyes of affection? That evening after tea, when Mr. +Willcoxen had retired to his own apartments and the waiter had +replenished the fire and trimmed the lamps and retired, leaving the +young couple alone in the parlor--Miriam sitting on one side of the +circular work-table bending over her sewing, and Paul on the other side +with a book in his hand, he suddenly laid the volume down, and went +round and drew a chair to Miriam's side and began to tell her how much +he loved her, how dear her happiness was to him, and so entreat her to +tell him the cause of her evident distress. As he spoke, she became +paler than death, and suddenly and passionately exclaimed: + +"Oh, Paul! Paul! do not question me! You know not what you ask." + +"My own Miriam, what mean you? I ought to know." + +"Oh, Paul! Paul! I am one foredoomed to bring misery and destruction +upon all who love me; upon all whom I love." + +"My own dearest, you are ill, and need change, and you shall have it, +Miriam," he said, attempting to soothe her with that gentle, tender, +loving manner he ever used toward her. + +But shuddering sighs convulsed her bosom, and-- + +"Oh, Paul! Paul!" was all she said. + +"Is it that promise that weighs upon your mind, Miriam? Cast it out; you +cannot fulfill it; impossibilities are not duties." + +"Oh, Paul! would Heaven it were impossible! or that I were dead." + +"Miriam! where are those letters you wished to show me?" + +"Oh! do not ask me, Paul! not yet! not yet! I dread to see them. And +yet--who knows? they may relieve this dreadful suspicion! they may point +to another probability," she said, incoherently. + +"Just get me those letters, dear Miriam," he urged, gently. + +She arose, tottering, and left the room, and after an absence of fifteen +minutes returned with the packet in her hand. + +"These seals have not been broken since my mother closed them," said +Miriam, as she proceeded to open the parcel. + +The first she came to was the bit of a note, without date or signature, +making the fatal appointment. + +"This, Paul," she said, mournfully, "was found in the pocket of the +dress Marian wore at Luckenough, but changed at home before she went out +to walk the evening of her death. Mother always believed that she went +out to meet the appointment made in that note." + +Paul took the paper with eager curiosity to examine it. He looked at +it, started slightly, turned pale, shuddered, passed his hand once or +twice across his eyes, as if to clear his vision, looked again, and then +his cheeks blanched, his lips gradually whitened and separated, his eyes +started, and his whole countenance betrayed consternation and horror. + +Miriam gazed upon him in a sort of hushed terror--then exclaimed: + +"Paul! Paul! what is the matter? You look as if you had been turned to +stone by gazing on the Gorgon's head; Paul! Paul!" + +"Miriam, did your mother know this handwriting?" he asked, in a husky, +almost inaudible voice. + +"No!" + +"Did she suspect it?" + +"No!" + +"Did you know or suspect it?" + +"No! I was a child when I received it, remember. I have never seen it +since." + +"Not when you put it in my hand, just now?" + +"No, I never looked at the writing?" + +"That was most strange that you should not have glanced at the +handwriting when you handed it to me. Why didn't you? Were you afraid to +look at it? Miram! why do you turn away your head? Miriam! answer me--do +you know the handwriting?" + +"No, Paul, I do not know it--do you?" + +"No! no! how should I? But Miriam, your head is still averted. Your very +voice is changed. Miriam! what mean you? Tell me once for all. Do you +suspect the handwriting?" + +"How should I? Do you, Paul?" + +"No! no! I don't suspect it." + +They seemed afraid to look each other in the face; and well they might +be, for the written agony on either brow; they seemed afraid to hear the +sound of each other's words; and well they might be, for the hollow, +unnatural sound of either voice. + +"It cannot be! I am crazy, I believe. Let me clear my--oh, Heaven! +Miriam! did--was--do you know whether there was any one in particular on +familiar terms with Miss Mayfield?" + +"No one out of the family, except Miss Thornton." + +"'Out of the family'--out of what family?" + +"Ours, at the cottage." + +"Was--did--I wonder if my brother knew her intimately?" + +"I do not know; I never saw them in each other's company but twice in my +life." + +The youth breathed a little freer. + +"Why did you ask, Paul?" + +"No matter, Miriam. Oh! I was a wretch, a beast to think--" + +"What, Paul?" + +"There are such strange resemblances in--in--in--What are you looking at +me so for, Miriam?" + +"To find your meaning. In what, Paul--strange resemblances in what?" + +"Why, in faces." + +"Why, then, so there are--and in persons, also; and sometimes in fates; +but we were talking of handwritings, Paul." + +"Were we? Oh, true. I am not quite right, Miriam. I believe I have +confined myself too much, and studied too hard. I am really out of +sorts; never mind me! Please hand me those foreign letters, love." + +Miriam was unfolding and examining them; but all in a cold, stony, +unnatural way. + +"Paul," she asked, "wasn't it just eight years this spring since your +brother went to Scotland to fetch you?" + +"Yes; why?" + +"Wasn't it to Glasgow that he went?" + +"Yes; why?" + +"Were not you there together in March and April, 182-?" + +"Once more, yes! Why do you inquire?" + +"Because all these foreign letters directed to Marian are postmarked +Glasgow, and dated March or April, 182-." + +With a low, stifled cry, and a sudden spring, he snatched the packet +from her hand, tore open the first letter that presented itself, and ran +his strained, bloodshot eyes down the lines. Half-suppressed, deep +groans like those wrung by torture from a strong man's heart, burst from +his pale lips, and great drops of sweat gathered on his agonized +forehead. Then he crushed the letters together in his hand and held them +tightly, unconsciously, while his starting eyes were fixed on vacancy +and his frozen lips muttered: + +"In a fit of frantic passion, anger, jealousy--even he might have been +maddened to the pitch of doing such a thing! But as an act of base +policy, as an act of forethought, oh! never, never, never!" + +"Paul! Paul! speak to me, Paul. Tell me what you think. I have had +foreshadowings long. I can bear silence and uncertainty no longer. What +find you in those letters? Oh, speak, or my heart will burst, Paul." + +He gave no heed to her or her words, but remained like one impaled; +still, fixed, yet writhing, his features, his whole form and expression +discolored, distorted with inward agony. + +"Paul! Paul!" cried Miriam, starting up, standing before him, gazing on +him. "Paul! speak to me. Your looks kill me. Speak, Paul! even though +you can tell me little new. I know it all, Paul; or nearly all. Weeks +ago I received the shock! it overwhelmed me for the time; but I survived +it! But you, Paul--you! Oh! how you look! Speak to your sister, Paul! +Speak to your promised wife." + +But he gave no heed to her. She was not strong or assured--she felt +herself tottering on the very verge of death or madness. But she could +not bear to see him looking so. Once more she essayed to engage his +attention. + +"Give me those letters, Paul--I can perhaps make out the meaning." + +As he did not reply, she gently sought to take them from his hand. But +at her touch he suddenly started up and threw the packet into the fire. +With a quick spring, Miriam darted forward, thrust her hand into the +fire and rescued the packet, scorched and burning, but not destroyed. + +She began to put it out, regardless of the pain to her hands. He looked +as if he were tempted to snatch it from her, but she exclaimed: + +"No, Paul! no! You will not use force to deprive me of this that I must +guard as a sacred trust." + +Still Paul hesitated, and eyed the packet with a gloomy glance. + +"Remember honor, Paul, even in this trying moment," said Miriam; "let +honor be saved, if all else be lost." + +"What do you mean to do with that parcel?" he asked in a hollow voice. + +"Keep them securely for the present." + +"And afterward?" + +"I know not." + +"Miriam, you evade my questions. Will you promise me one thing?" + +"What is that?" + +"Promise me to do nothing with those letters until you have further +evidence." + +"I promise you that." + +Then Paul took up a candle and left the room, as if to go to his +sleeping apartment; but on reaching the hall, he threw down and +extinguished the light and rushed as if for breath out into the open +air. + +The night was keen and frosty, the cold, slaty sky was thickly studded +with sparkling stars, the snow was crusted over--it was a fine, fresh, +clear, wintry night; at another time it would have invigorated and +inspired him; now the air seemed stifling, the scene hateful. + +The horrible suspicion of his brother's criminality had entered his +heart for the first time, and it had come with the shock of certainty. +The sudden recognition of the handwriting, the strange revelations of +the foreign letters, had not only in themselves been a terrible +disclosure, but had struck the whole "electric chain" of memory and +association, and called up in living force many an incident and +circumstance heretofore strange and incomprehensible; but now only too +plain and indicative. The whole of Thurston's manner the fatal day of +the assassination--his abstraction, his anxious haste to get away on the +plea of most urgent business in Baltimore--business that never was +afterward heard of; his mysterious absence of the whole night from his +grandfather's deathbed--provoking conjecture at the time, and +unaccounted for to this day; his haggard and distracted looks upon +returning late the next morning; his incurable sorrow; his habit of +secluding himself upon the anniversary of that crime--and now the +damning evidence in these letters! Among them, and the first he looked +at, was the letter Thurston had written Marian to persuade her to +accompany him to France, in the course of which his marriage with her +was repeatedly acknowledged, being incidentally introduced as an +argument in favor of her compliance with his wishes. + +Yet Paul could not believe the crime ever premeditated--it was sudden, +unintentional, consummated in a lover's quarrel, in a fit of jealousy, +rage, disappointment, madness! Stumbling upon half the truth, he said to +himself: + +"Perhaps failing to persuade her to fly with him to France, he had +attempted to carry her off, and being foiled, had temporarily lost his +self-control, his very sanity. That would account for all that had +seemed so strange in his conduct the day and night of the assassination +and the morning after." + +There was agony--there was madness in the pursuit of the investigation. +Oh, pitying Heaven! how thought and grief surged and seethed in aching +heart and burning brain! + +And Miriam's promise to her dying mother--Miriam's promise to bring the +criminal to justice! Would she--could she now abide by its obligations? +Could she prosecute her benefactor, her adopted brother, for murder? +Could her hand be raised to hurl him down from his pride of place to +shame and death? No, no, no, no! the vow must be broken, must be evaded; +the right, even if it were the right, must be transgressed, heaven +offended--anything! anything! anything but the exposure and sacrifice of +their brother! If he had sinned, had he not repented? Did he not suffer? +What right had she, his ward, his _protege_, his child, to punish him? +"Vengeance is mine--I will repay, saith the Lord." No, Miriam must not +keep her vow! She must! she must! she must, responded the moral sense, +slow, measured, dispassionate, as the regular fall of a clock's hammer. +"I will myself prevent her; I will find means, arguments and persuasions +to act upon her. I will so appeal to her affections, her gratitude, her +compassion, her pride, her fears, her love for me--I will so work upon +her heart that she will not find courage to keep her vow." She will! she +will! responded the deliberate conscience. + +And so he walked up and down; vainly the fresh wind fanned his fevered +brow; vainly the sparkling stars glanced down from holy heights upon +him; he found no coolness for his fever in the air, no sedative for his +anxiety in the stillness, no comfort for his soul in the heavens; he +knew not whether he were indoors or out, whether it were night or day, +summer or winter, he knew not, wrapped as he was in the mantle of his +own sad thoughts, suffering as he was in the purgatory of his inner +life. + +While Paul walked up and down, like a maniac, Miriam returned to her +room to pace the floor until nearly morning, when she threw herself, +exhausted, upon the bed, fell into a heavy sleep, and a third time, +doubtless from nervous excitement or prostration, suffered a repetition +of her singular vision, and awoke late in the morning, with the words, +"perform thy vow," ringing in her ears. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +THE AVENGER. + + +Several days passed in the gloomy mansion misnamed Dell-Delight. Miriam +and Paul avoided each other like death. Both dreaded like death any +illusion to the awful subject that lay so heavy upon the heart of each. +Paul, unacquainted with her thoughts, and relying upon her promise to do +nothing with the letters without further evidence, contented himself +with watching her motions, feeling comparatively at ease as long as she +should remain in the house; and being resolved to prevent her from going +forth, or to accompany her if she persisted in leaving home. + +With Miriam, the shock, the anguish, the struggle had well-nigh passed; +she was at once subdued and resolved, like one into whom some spirit had +entered and bound her own spirit, and acted through her. So strange did +all appear to her, so strange the impassiveness of her own will, of her +habits and affections, that should have rebelled and warred against her +purpose that she sometimes thought herself not herself, or insane, or +the subject of a monomania, or some strange hallucination, a dreamer, a +somnambulist, perhaps. And yet with matchless tact and discretion, she +went about her deadly work. She had prepared her plan of action, and now +waited only for a day very near at hand, the fourth of April, the +anniversary of Marian's assassination, to put Thurston to a final test +before proceeding further. + +The day came at last--it was cold and wintry for the season. Toward +evening the sky became overcast with leaden clouds, and the chill +dampness penetrated into all the rooms of the old mansion. Poor Fanny +was muttering and moaning to herself and her "spirits" over the wood +fire in her distant room. + +Mr. Willcoxen had not appeared since breakfast time. Miriam remained in +her own chamber; and Paul wandered restlessly from place to place +through all the rooms of the house, or threw himself wearily into his +chair before the parlor fire. Inclement as the weather was, he would +have gone forth, but that he too remembered the anniversary, and a +nameless anxiety connected with Miriam confined him to the house. + +In the kitchen, the colored folk gathered around the fire, grumbling at +the unseasonable coldness of the weather, and predicting a hail-storm, +and telling each other that they never "'sperienced" such weather this +time o' year, 'cept 'twas that spring Old Marse died--when no wonder, +"'siderin' how he lived long o' Sam all his life." + +Only old Jenny went in and out from house to kitchen, Old Jenny had +enough to do to carry wood to the various fires. She had never "seed it +so cold for de season nyther, 'cept 'twas de spring Miss Marian went to +hebben, and not a bit o' wonder de yeth was cole arter she war gone--de +dear, lovin' heart warm angel; 'deed I wondered how it ever come summer +again, an' thought it was right down onsensible in her morning-glories +to bloom out jest de same as ever, arter she was gone! An' what minds me +to speak o' Miss Marian now, it war jes' seven years this night, since +she 'parted dis life," said Jenny, as she stood leaning her head upon +the mantel-piece, and toasting her toes at the kitchen fire, previous to +carrying another armful of wood into the parlor. + +Night and the storm descended together--such a tempest! such a wild +outbreaking of the elements! rain and hail, and snow and wind, all +warring upon the earth together! The old house shook, the doors and +windows rattled, the timbers cracked, the shingles were torn off and +whirled aloft, the trees were swayed and snapped; and as the storm +increased in violence and roused to fury, the forest beat before its +might, and the waves rose and overflowed the low land. + +Still old Jenny went in and out of the house to kitchen and kitchen to +house, carrying wood, water, meat, bread, sauce, sweetmeats, arranging +the table for supper, replenishing the fire, lighting the candles, +letting down the curtains--and trying to make everything cozy and +comfortable for the reassembling of the fireside circle. Poor old Jenny +had passed so much of her life in the family with "the white folks," +that all her sympathies went with them--and on the state of their +spiritual atmosphere depended all her cheerfulness and comfort; and now +the cool, distant, sorrowful condition of the members of the little +family circle--"ebery single mudder's son and darter ob 'em, +superamblated off to derself like pris'ners in a jailhouse"--as she +said--depressed her spirits very much. Jenny's reaction from depression +was always quite querulous. And toward the height of the storm, there +was a reaction and she grew very quarrelsome. + +"Sam's waystin'[A] roun' in dere," said Jenny, as she thrust her feet +into the kitchen fire, before carrying in the urn; "Sam's waystin', I +tells you all good! all werry quiet dough--no noise, no fallin' out, no +'sputin' nor nothin'--all quiet as de yeth jest afore a debbil ob a +storm--nobody in de parlor 'cept 'tis Marse Paul, settin' right afore de +parlor fire, wid one long leg poked east and toder west, wid the boots +on de andirons like a spread-eagle! lookin' as glum as if I owed him a +year's sarvice, an' nebber so much as a-sayin', 'Jenny, you poor old +debbil, ain't you a-cold?' an' me coming in ebery minnit wid the icicles +a-jinglin' 'roun' my linsey-woolsey skurts, like de diamonds on de +Wirgin Mary's Sunday gown. But Sam's waystin' now, I tells you all good. +Lors Gemini, what a storm! + +[Footnote A: Waysting--Going up and down.] + +"I 'members of no sich since dat same storm as de debbil come in to +fetch ole marse's soul--dis berry night seven year past, an' he carried +of him off all in a suddint whiff! jist like a puff of win'. An' no +wonder, seein' how he done traded his soul to him for money! + +"An' Sam's here ag'in to-night! dunno who he's come arter! but he's +here, now, I tells you all good!" said Jenny, as she took up the urn to +carry it into the parlor. + +When she got there she could scarcely get to the fire; Paul took up the +front. His immobility and unconsciousness irritated Jenny beyond silent +endurance. + +"I tell you all what," she said, "I means to 'sign my sitewation! 'deed +me! I can't kill myself for dem as wouldn't even care 'nough for me to +have a mass said for de 'pose o' my soul." + +"What do you mean?" asked Paul, angrily, for confinement, solitude, bad +weather, and anxiety, had combined, to make him querulous, too. + +"I means how ef yer doesn't have a kivered way made from de house to de +kitchen an' back ag'in, I gwine give up waitin' on de table, now min' I +tell yer, 'deed me! an' now ef you likes, yer may jes' go an' tell Marse +Rooster." + +"'Marse Rooster!' Will you ever give up that horrid nonsense. Why, you +old--! Is my brother--is your master a barn-door chicken-cock, that you +call him 'Rooster?'" asked the young man, snappishly. + +"Well, Shrooster, den, ef you wants me to wring my tongue in two. Ef +people's sponsors in baptism will gib der chillun such heathen names, +how de debbil any Christian 'oman gwine to twis' her tongue roun' it? I +thanks my 'Vine Marster dat my sponsors in baptism named me arter de +bressed an' holy S'int Jane--who has 'stained an' s'ported me all my +days; an' 'ill detect now, dough you do try to break my poor ole heart +long wid onkindness at my ole ages o' life! But what's de use o' +talkin'--Sam's waystin'!" And so saying, Jenny gave the finishing +touches to the arrangement of the table, and then seized the bell, and +rang it with rather needless vigor and violence, to bring the scattered +members of the family together. + +They came, slowly and singly, and drew around the table more like ghosts +than living persons, a few remarks upon the storm, and then they sunk +into silence--and as soon as the gloomy meal was over, one by one they +dropped away from the room--first went poor Fanny, then Mr. Willcoxen, +then Miriam. + +"Where are you going, Miriam?" asked Paul, as the latter was leaving the +room. + +"To my chamber." + +And before he could farther question, or longer detain her, she pressed +his hand and went out. And Paul, with a deep sigh and a strangely +foreboding heart, sank back into his seat. + +When Miriam reached her bedroom, she carefully closed and locked the +door, went to her bureau, opened the top-drawer, and took from it a +small oblong mahogany glove-box. She unlocked the latter, and took out a +small parcel, which she unwrapped and laid before her upon the bureau. + +It was the xyphias poniard. + +The weapon had come into her possession some time before in the +following manner: During the first winter of Paul Douglass' absence from +home, Mr. Willcoxen had emancipated several of his slaves and provided +means for their emigration to Liberia. They were to sail early in March. +Among the number was Melchisedek. A few days previous to their +departure, this man had come to the house, and sought the presence of +his youthful mistress, when he knew her to be alone in the parlor, and +with a good deal of mystery and hesitation had laid before her a dagger +which he said he should rather have given to "Marster Paul," if the +latter had been at home. He had picked it up near the water's edge on +the sands the night of Miss Mayfield's death, which "Marster" had taken +so to heart, that he was afraid to harrow up his feelings by bringing it +to him a second time--but that as it was an article of value, he did not +like to take it away with him. And he begged Miss Miriam to take charge +of it. And Miriam had taken it, and with surprise, but without the +slightest suspicion, had read the name of "Thurston Willcoxen" carved +upon its handle. To all her questions, Melchisedek had given evasive +answers, or remained obstinately silent, being determined not to betray +his master's confidence by revealing his share in the events of that +fatal night. Miriam had taken the little instrument, wrapped it +carefully in paper, and locked it in her old-fashioned long glove-box. +And from that day to this she had not opened it. + +Now, however, she had taken it out with a fixed purpose, and she stood +and gazed upon it. Presently she took it up, rolled it in the paper, +took her lamp, and slowly left her room, and passed along the passages +leading to Mr. Willcoxen's library. + +The storm howled and raved as she went, and the strong blast, driving +through the dilapidated window-sashes, nearly extinguished her light +before she reached the study door. + +She blew out the light and set down the lamp, and rapped at the door. +Again and again she rapped, without awakening any response from within. + +Then she turned the latch, opened the door, and entered. No wonder she +had received no answer. + +The abstracted man before her seemed dead to every sight and sound +around him. He sat before the table in the middle of the room, his elbow +on the mahogany; his face bowed upon his hand, his haggard countenance +revealing a still, speechless despair as awful as it was profound. + +Miriam approached and stood by him, her breath went by his cheek, so +near she stood, and yet her presence was unheeded. She stooped to see +the object upon which he gazed--the object that now shut out all the +world from his sight--it was a long bright tress of golden auburn hair. + +"Mr. Willcoxen!" + +He did not hear her--how should he hear her low tones, when he heard not +the cannonading of the storm that shook the house to its foundations? + +"Mr. Willcoxen!" she said once more. + +But he moved not a muscle. + +"Mr. Willcoxen!" she repeated, laying her hand upon his arm. + +He looked up. The expression of haggard despair softened out of his +countenance. + +"Is it you, my dear?" he said. "What has brought you here, Miriam? Were +you afraid of the storm? There is no danger, dear child--it has nearly +expended its force, and will soon be over--but sit down." + +"Oh, no! it is not the storm that has brought me here, though I scarcely +remember a storm so violent at this season of the year, except one--this +night seven years ago--the night that Marian Mayfield was murdered!" + +He started--it is true that he had been thinking of the same dread +tragedy--but to hear it suddenly mentioned pierced him like an +unexpected sword thrust. + +Miriam proceeded, speaking in a strange, level monotone, as if unwilling +or afraid to trust her voice far: + +"I came this evening to restore a small but costly article of _virtu_, +belonging to you, and left in my care some time ago by the boy +Melchisedek. It is an antique dagger--somewhat rusty and spotted. Here +it is." + +And she laid the poniard down upon the tress of hair before him. + +He sprang up as if it had been a viper--his whole frame shook, and the +perspiration started from his livid forehead. + +Miriam, keeping her eye upon him, took the dagger up. + +"It is very rusty, and very much streaked," she said. "I wonder what +these dark streaks can be? They run along the edge, from the extreme +point of the blade, upwards toward the handle; they look to me like the +stains of blood--as if a murderer had stabbed his victim with it, and in +his haste to escape had forgotten to wipe the blade, but had left the +blood upon it, to curdle and corrode the steel. See! don't it look so to +you?" she said, approaching him, and holding the weapon up to his view. + +"Girl! girl! what do you mean?" he exclaimed, throwing his hand across +his eyes, and hurrying across the room. + +Miriam flung down the weapon with a force that made its metal ring upon +the floor, and hastening after him, she stood before him; her dark eyes +fixed upon his, streaming with insufferable and consuming fire, that +seemed to burn through into his brain. She said: + +"I have heard of fiends in the human shape, nay, I have heard of Satan +in the guise of an angel of light! Are you such that stand before me +now?" + +"Miriam, what do you mean?" he asked, in sorrowful astonishment. + +"This is what I mean! That the mystery of Marian Mayfield's fate, the +secret of your long remorse, is no longer hidden! I charge you with the +murder of Marian Mayfield!" + +"Miriam, you are mad!" + +"Oh! well for me, and better still for you, if I were mad!" + +He was tremendously shaken, more by the vivid memories she recalled than +by the astounding charge she made. + +"In the name of Heaven, what leads you to imagine such impossible +guilt!" + +"Good knowledge of the facts--that this month, eight years ago, in the +little Methodist chapel of the navy yard, in Washington City, you made +Marian Mayfield your wife--that this night seven years since, in just +such a storm as this, on the beach below Pine Bluff, you met and +murdered Marian Willcoxen! And, moreover, I as sure you, that these +facts which I tell you now, to-morrow I will lay before a magistrate, +together with all the corroborating proof in my possession!" + +"And what proof can you have?" + +"A gentleman who, unknown and unsuspected, witnessed the private +ceremony between yourself and Marian; a packet of French letters, +written by yourself from Glasgow, to Marian, in St. Mary's, in the +spring of 1823; a note found in the pocket of her dress, appointing the +fatal meeting on the beach where she perished. Two physicians, who can +testify to your unaccountable absence from the deathbed of your parent +on the night of the murder, and also to the distraction of your manner +when you returned late the next morning." + +"And this," said Thurston, gazing in mournful amazement upon her; "this +is the child that I have nourished and brought up in my house! She can +believe me guilty of such atrocious crime--she can aim at my honor and +my life such a deadly blow?" + +"Alas! alas! it is my duty! it is my fate! I cannot escape it! I have +bound my soul by a fearful oath! I cannot evade it! I shall not survive +it! Oh, all the heaven is black with doom, and all the earth tainted +with blood!" cried Miriam, wildly. + +"You are insane, poor girl! you are insane!" said Thurston, pityingly. + +"Would Heaven I were! would Heaven I were! but I am not! I am not! Too +well I remember I have bound my soul by an oath to seek out Marian's +destroyer, and deliver him up to death! And I must do it! I must do it! +though my heart break--as it will break in the act!" + +"And you believe me to be guilty of this awful crime!" + +"There stands the fearful evidence! Would Heaven it did not exist! oh! +would Heaven it did not!" + +"Listen to me, dear Miriam," he said, calmly, for he had now recovered +his self-possession. "Listen to me--I am perfectly guiltless of the +crime you impute to me. How is it possible that I could be otherwise +than guiltless. Hear me explain the circumstances that have come to your +knowledge," and he attempted to take her hand to lead her to a seat. But +with a slight scream, she snatched her hand away, saying wildly: + +"Touch me not! Your touch thrills me to sickness! to faintness! +curdles--turns back the current of blood in my veins!" + +"You think this hand a blood-stained one?" + +"The evidence! the evidence!" + +"I can explain that evidence. Miriam, my child, sit down--at any +distance from me you please--only let it be near enough for you to +hear. Did I believe you quite sane, Miriam, grief and anger might +possibly seal my lips upon this subject--but believing you partially +deranged--from illness and other causes--I will defend myself to you. +Sit down and hear me." + +Miriam dropped into the nearest chair. + +Mr. Willcoxen took another, and commenced: + +"You have received some truth, Miriam. How it has been presented to you, +I will not ask now. I may presently. I was married, as you have somehow +ascertained, to Marian Mayfield, just before going to Europe. I +corresponded with her from Glasgow. I did appoint a meeting with her on +the beach, upon the fatal evening in question--for what purpose that +meeting was appointed, it is bootless to tell you, since the meeting +never took place--for some hours before I should have set out to keep my +appointment, my grandfather was stricken with apoplexy. I did not wish +to leave his bedside until the arrival of the doctor. But when the +evening wore on, and the storm approached, I grew uneasy upon Marian's +account, and sent Melchisedek in the gig to fetch her from the beach to +this house--never to leave it. Miriam, the boy reached the sands only to +find her dying. Terrified half out of his senses, he hurried back and +told me this story. I forgot my dying relative--forgot everything, but +that my wife lay wounded and exposed on the beach. I sprung upon +horseback, and galloped with all possible haste to the spot. By the time +I had got there the storm had reached its height, and the beach was +completely covered with the boiling waves. My Marian had been carried +away. I spent the wretched night in wandering up and down the bluff +above the beach, and calling on her name. In the morning I returned home +to find my grandfather dead, and the family and physicians wondering at +my strange absence at such a time. That, Miriam, is the story." + +Miriam made no comment whatever. Mr. Willcoxen seemed surprised and +grieved at her silence. + +"What have you now to say, Miriam?" + +"Nothing." + +"'Nothing?' What do you think of my explanation?" + +"I think nothing. My mind is in an agony of doubt and conjecture. I must +be governed by stern facts--not by my own prepossessions. I must act +upon the evidences in my possession--not upon your explanation of them," +said Miriam, distractedly, as she arose to leave the room. + +"And you will denounce me, Miriam?" + +"It is my insupportable duty! it is my fate! my doom! for it will kill +me!" + +"Yet you will do it!" + +"I will." + +"Yet turn, dear Miriam! Look on me once more! take my hand! since you +act from necessity, do nothing from anger--turn and take my hand." + +She turned and stood--such a picture of tearless agony! She met his +gentle, compassionate glance--it melted--it subdued her. + +"Oh, would Heaven that I might die, rather than do this thing! Would +Heaven I might die! for my heart turns to you; it turns, and I love you +so--oh! I love you so! never, never so much as now! my brother! my +brother!" and she sunk down and seized his hands and wept over them. + +"What, Miriam! do you love me, believing me to be guilty?" + +"To have been guilty--not to be guilty--you have suffered remorse--you +have repented, these many long and wretched years. Oh! surely repentance +washes out guilt!" + +"And you can now caress and weep over my hands, believing them to have +been crimsoned with the life-stream of your first and best friend?" + +"Yes! yes! yes! yes! Oh! would these tears, my very heart sobs forth, +might wash them pure again! Yes! yes! whether you be guilty or not, my +brother! the more I listen to my heart, the more I love you, and I +cannot help it!" + +"It is because your heart is so much wiser than your head, dear Miriam! +Your heart divines the guiltlessness that your reason refuses to credit! +Do what you feel that you must, dear Miriam--but, in the meantime, let +us still be brother and sister--embrace me once more." + +With anguish bordering on insanity, she threw herself into his arms for +a moment--was pressed to his heart, and then breaking away, she escaped +from the room to her own chamber. And there, with her half-crazed brain +and breaking heart--like one acting or forced to act in a ghastly dream, +she began to arrange her evidence--collect the letters, the list of +witnesses and all, preparatory to setting forth upon her fatal mission +in the morning. + +With the earliest dawn of morning, Miriam left her room. In passing the +door of Mr. Willcoxen's chamber, she suddenly stopped--a spasm seized +her heart, and convulsed her features--she clasped her hands to pray, +then, as if there were wild mockery in the thought, flung them fiercely +apart, and hurried on her way. She felt that she was leaving the house +never to return; she thought that she should depart without encountering +any of its inmates. She was surprised, therefore, to meet Paul in the +front passage. He came up and intercepted her: + +"Where are you going so early, Miriam?" + +"To Colonel Thornton's." + +"What? Before breakfast?" + +"Yes." + +He took both of her hands, and looked into her face--her pallid +face--with all the color concentrated in a dark crimson spot upon either +cheek--with all the life burning deep down in the contracted pupils of +the eyes. + +"Miriam, you are not well--come, go into the parlor," he said, and +attempted to draw her toward the door. + +"No, Paul, no! I must go out," she said, resisting his efforts. + +"But why?" + +"What is it to you? Let me go." + +"It is everything to me, Miriam, because I suspect your errand. Come +into the parlor. This madness must not go on." + +"Well, perhaps I am mad, and my words and acts may go for nothing. I +hope it may be so." + +"Miriam, I must talk with you--not here--for we are liable to be +interrupted every instant. Come into the parlor, at least for a few +moments." + +She no longer resisted that slight plea, but suffered him to lead her +in. He gave her a seat, and took one beside her, and took her hand in +his, and began to urge her to give up her fatal purpose. He appealed to +her, through reason, through religion, through all the strongest +passions and affections of her soul--through her devotion to her +guardian--through the gratitude she owed him--through their mutual love, +that must be sacrificed, if her insane purpose should be carried out. To +all this she answered: + +"I think of nothing concerning myself, Paul--I think only of him; there +is the anguish." + +"You are insane, Miriam; yet, crazy as you are, you may do a great deal +of harm--much to Thurston, but much more to yourself. It is not probable +that the evidence you think you have will be considered by any +magistrate of sufficient importance to be acted upon against a man of +Mr. Willcoxen's life and character." + +"Heaven grant that such may be the case." + +"Attend! collect your thoughts--the evidence you produce will probably +be considered unimportant and quite unworthy of attention; but what will +be thought of you who volunteer to offer it?" + +"I had not reflected upon that--and now you mention it, I do not care." + +"And if, on the other hand, the testimony which you have to offer be +considered ground for indictment, and Thurston is brought to trial, and +acquitted, as he surely would be--" + +"Ay! Heaven send it!" + +"And the whole affair blown all over the country--how would you appear?" + +"I know not, and care not, so he is cleared; Heaven grant I may be the +only sufferer! I am willing to take the infamy." + +"You would be held up before the world as an ingrate, a domestic +traitress, and unnatural monster. You would be hated of all--your name +and history become a tradition of almost impossible wickedness." + +"Ha! why, do you think that in such an hour as this I care for myself? +No, no! no, no! Heaven grant that it may be as you say--that my brother +be acquitted, and I only may suffer! I am willing to suffer shame and +death for him whom I denounce! Let me go, Paul; I have lost too much +time here." + +"Will nothing induce you to abandon this wicked purpose?" + +"Nothing on earth, Paul!" + +"Nothing?" + +"No! so help me Heaven! Give way--let me go, Paul." + +"You must not go, Miriam." + +"I must and will--and that directly. Stand aside." + +"Then you shall not go." + +"Shall not?" + +"I said 'shall not.'" + +"Who will prevent me?" + +"I will! You are a maniac, Miriam, and must be restrained from going +abroad, and setting the county in a conflagration." + +"You will have to guard me very close for the whole of my life, then." + +At that moment the door was quietly opened, and Mr. Willcoxen entered. + +Miriam's countenance changed fearfully, but she wrung her hand from the +clasp of Paul's, and hastened toward the door. + +Paul sprang forward and intercepted her. + +"What does this mean?" asked Mr. Willcoxen, stepping up to them. + +"It means that she is mad, and will do herself or somebody else much +mischief," cried Paul, sharply. + +"For shame, Paul! Release her instantly," said Thurston, +authoritatively. + +"Would you release a lunatic, bent upon setting the house on fire?" +expostulated the young man, still holding her. + +"She is no lunatic; let her go instantly, sir." + +Paul, with a groan, complied. + +Miriam hastened onward, cast one look of anguish back to Thurston's +face, rushed back, and threw herself upon her knees at his feet, clasped +his hands, and cried: + +"I do not ask you to pardon me--I dare not! But God deliver you! if it +brand me and my accusation with infamy! and God forever bless you!" Then +rising, she fled from the room. + +The brothers looked at each other. + +"Thurston, do you know where she has gone? what she intends to do?" + +"Yes." + +"You do?" + +"Assuredly." + +"And you would not prevent her?" + +"Most certainly not." + +Paul was gazing into his brother's eyes, and, as he gazed, every vestige +of doubt and suspicion vanished from his mind; it was like the sudden +clearing up of the sky, and shining forth of the sun; he grasped his +brother's hands with cordial joy. + +"God bless you, Thurston! I echo her prayer. God forever bless you! But, +Thurston, would it not have been wiser to prevent her going out?" + +"How? Would you have used force with Miriam--restrained her personal +liberty?" + +"Yes! I would have done so!" + +"That would have been not only wrong, but useless; for if her strong +affections for us were powerless to restrain her, be sure that physical +means would fail; she would make herself heard in some way, and thus +make our cause much worse. Besides, I should loathe, for myself, to +resort to any such expedients." + +"But she may do so much harm. And you?" + +"I am prepared to meet what comes!" + +"Strange infatuation! that she should believe you to be--I will not +wrong you by finishing the sentence." + +"She does not at heart believe me guilty--her mind is in a storm. She is +bound by her oath to act upon the evidence rather than upon her own +feelings, and that evidence is much stronger against me, Paul, than you +have any idea of. Come into my study, and I will tell you the whole +story." + +And Paul followed him thither. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +UPON CHARGE OF MURDER. + + +Some hours later in that day Colonel Thornton was sitting, in his +capacity of police magistrate, in his office at C----. The room was +occupied by about a dozen persons, men and women, black and white. He +had just got through with one or two petty cases of debt or theft, and +had up before him a poor, half-starved "White Herring," charged with +sheep-stealing, when the door opened and a young girl, closely veiled, +entered and took a seat in the farthest corner from the crowd. The case +of the poor man was soon disposed of--the evidence was not positive--the +compassionate magistrate leaned to the side of mercy, and the man was +discharged, and went home most probably to dine upon mutton. This being +the last case, the magistrate arose and ordered the room to be cleared +of all who had no further business with him. + +When the loungers had left the police office the young girl came +forward, stood before the magistrate, and raised her veil, revealing the +features of Miriam. + +"Good-morning, Miss Shields," said Colonel Thornton; and neither the +countenance nor manner of this suave and stately gentleman of the old +school revealed the astonishment he really felt on seeing the young lady +in such a place. He arose and courteously placed her a chair, reseated +himself, and turned toward her and respectfully awaited her +communication. + +"Colonel Thornton, you remember Miss Mayfield, and the manner of her +death, that made some stir here about seven years ago?" + +The face of the old gentleman suddenly grew darkened and slightly +convulsed, as the face of the sea when clouds and wind pass over it. + +"Yes, young lady, I remember." + +"I have come to denounce her murderer." + +Colonel Thornton took up his pen, and drew toward him a blank form of a +writ, and sat looking toward her; and waiting for her further words. + +Her bosom heaved, her face worked, her voice was choked and unnatural, +as she said: + +"You will please to issue a warrant for the arrest of Thurston +Willcoxen." + +Colonel Thornton laid down his pen, arose from his seat, and took her +hand and gazed upon her with an expression of blended surprise and +compassion. + +"My dear young lady, you are not very well. May I inquire--are your +friends in town, or are you here alone?" + +"I am here alone. Nay, I am not mad, Colonel Thornton, although your +looks betray that you think me so." + +"No, no, not mad, only indisposed," said the colonel, in no degree +modifying his opinion. + +"Colonel Thornton, if there is anything strange and eccentric in my +looks and manner, you must set it down to the strangeness of the +position in which I am placed." + +"My dear young lady, Miss Thornton is at the hotel to-day. Will you +permit me to take you to her?" + +"You will do as you please, Colonel Thornton, after you shall have heard +my testimony and examined the proofs I have to lay before you. Then I +shall permit you to judge of my soundness of mind as you will, +premising, however, that my sanity or insanity can have no possible +effect upon the proofs that I submit," she said, laying a packet upon +the table between them. + +Something in her manner now compelled the magistrate to give her words +an attention for which he blamed himself, as for a gross wrong, toward +his favorite clergyman. + +"Do I understand you to charge Mr. Willcoxen with the death of Miss +Mayfield?" + +"Yes," said Miriam, bowing her head. + +"What cause, young lady, can you possibly have for making such a +monstrous and astounding accusation?" + +"I came here for the purpose of telling you, if you will permit me. Nor +do I, since you doubt my reason, ask you to believe my statement, +unsupported by proof." + +"Go on, young lady; I am all attention." + +"Will you administer the usual oath?" + +"No, Miss Shields; I will hear your story first in the capacity of +friend." + +"And you think that the only capacity in which you will be called upon +to act? Well, may Heaven grant it," said Miriam, and she began and told +him all the facts that had recently come to her knowledge, ending by +placing the packet of letters in his hands. + +While she spoke, Colonel Thornton's pen was busy making minutes of her +statements; when she had concluded, he laid down the pen, and turning to +her, asked: + +"You believe, then, that Mr. Willcoxen committed this murder?" + +"I know not--I act only upon the evidence." + +"Circumstantial evidence, often as delusive as it is fatal! Do you think +it possible that Mr. Willcoxen could have meditated such a crime?" + +"No, no, no, no! never meditated it! If he committed it, it was +unpremeditated, unintentional; the accident of some lover's quarrel, +some frenzy of passion, jealousy--I know not what!" + +"Let me ask you, then, why you volunteer to prosecute?" + +"Because I must do so. But tell me, do you think what I have advanced +trivial and unimportant?" asked Miriam, in a hopeful tone, for little +she thought of herself, if only her obligation were discharged, and her +brother still unharmed. + +"On the contrary, I think it so important as to constrain my instant +attention, and oblige me to issue a warrant for the apprehension of Mr. +Thurston Willcoxen," said Colonel Thornton, as he wrote rapidly, filling +out several blank documents. Then he rang a bell, that was answered by +the entrance of several police officers. To the first he gave a warrant, +saying: + +"You will serve this immediately upon Mr. Willcoxen." And to another he +gave some half dozen subpoenas, saying: "You will serve all these +between this time and twelve to-morrow." + +When these functionaries were all discharged, Miriam arose and went to +the magistrate. + +"What do you think of the testimony?" + +"It is more than sufficient to commit Mr. Willcoxen for trial; it may +cost him his life." + +A sudden paleness passed over her face; she turned to leave the office, +but the hand of death seemed to clutch her heart, arresting its +pulsations, stopping the current of her blood, smothering her breath, +and she fell to the floor. + + * * * * * + +Wearily passed the day at Dell-Delight. Thurston, as usual, sitting +reading or writing at his library table; Paul rambling uneasily about +the house, now taking up a book and attempting to read, now throwing it +down in disgust; sometimes almost irresistibly impelled to spring upon +his horse and gallop to Charlotte Hall, then restraining his strong +impulse lest something important should transpire at home during his +absence. So passed the day until the middle of the afternoon. + +Paul was walking up and down the long piazza, indifferent for the first +time in his life to the loveliness of the soft April atmosphere, that +seemed to blend, raise and idealize the features of the landscape until +earth, water and sky were harmonized into celestial beauty. Paul was +growing very anxious for the reappearance of Miriam, or for some news of +her or her errand, yet dreading every moment an arrival of another sort. +"Where could the distracted girl be? Would her report be received and +acted upon by the magistrate? If so, what would be done? How would it +all end? Would Thurston sleep in his own house or in a prison that +night? When would Miriam return? Would she ever return, after having +assumed such a task as she had taken upon herself?" + +These and other questions presented themselves every moment, as he +walked up and down the piazza, keeping an eye upon the distant road. + +Presently a cloud of dust in the distance arrested both his attention +and his promenade, and brought his anxiety to a crisis. He soon +perceived a single horseman galloping rapidly down the road, and never +removed his eyes until the horseman turned into the gate and galloped +swiftly up to the house. + +Then with joy Paul recognized the rider, and ran eagerly down the stairs +to give him welcome, and reached the paved walk just as Cloudy drew rein +and threw himself from the saddle. + +The meeting was a cordial, joyous one--with Cloudy it was sincere, +unmixed joy; with Paul it was only a pleasant surprise and a transient +forgetfulness. Rapid questions were asked and answered, as they hurried +into the house. + +Cloudy's ship had been ordered home sooner than had been expected; he +had reached Norfolk a week before, B---- that afternoon, and had +immediately procured a horse and hurried on home. Hence his unlooked-for +arrival. + +"How is Thurston? How is Miriam? How are they all at Luckenough?" + +"All are well; the family at Luckenough are absent in the South, but are +expected home every week." + +"And where is Miriam?" + +"At the village." + +"And Thurston?" + +"In his library, as usual," said Paul, and touched the bell to summon a +messenger to send to Mr. Willcoxen. + +"Have you dined, Cloudy?" + +"Yes, no--I ate some bread and cheese at the village; don't fuss; I'd +rather wait till supper-time." + +The door opened, and Mr. Willcoxen entered. + +Whatever secret anxiety might have weighed upon the minister's heart, no +sign of it was suffered to appear upon his countenance, as, smiling +cordially, he came in holding out his hand to welcome his cousin and +early playmate, expressing equal surprise and pleasure at seeing him. + +Cloudy had to go over the ground of explanation of his sudden arrival, +and by the time he had finished, old Jenny came in, laughing and +wriggling with joy to see him. But Jenny did not remain long in the +parlor; she hurried out into the kitchen to express her feelings +professionally by preparing a welcome feast. + +"And you are not married yet, Thurston, as great a favorite as you are +with the ladies! How is that? Every time I come home I expect to be +presented to a Mrs. Willcoxen, and never am gratified; why is that?" + +"Perhaps I believe in the celibacy of the clergy." + +"Perhaps you have never recovered the disappointment of losing Miss Le +Roy?" + +"Ah! Cloudy, people who live in glass houses should not throw stones; I +suspect you judge me by yourself. How is it with you, Cloudy? Has no +fair maiden been able to teach you to forget your boy-love for +Jacquelina?" + +Cloudy winced, but tried to cover his embarrassment with a laugh. + +"Oh! I have been in love forty dozen times. I'm always in love; my heart +is continually going through a circle from one fit to another, like the +sun through the signs of the zodiac; only it never comes to anything." + +"Well, at least little Jacko is forgotten, which is one congratulatory +circumstance." + +"No, she is not forgotten; I will not wrong her by saying that she is, +or could be! All other loves are merely the foreign ports, which my +heart visits transiently now and then. Lina is its native home. I don't +know how it is. With most cases of disappointment, such as yours with +Miss Le Roy, I suppose the regret may be short-lived enough; but when an +affection has been part and parcel of one's being from infancy up; why, +it is in one's soul and heart and blood, so to speak--is identical with +one's consciousness, and inseparable from one's life." + +"Do you ever see her?" + +"See her! yes; but how?--at each return from a voyage. I may see +her once, with an iron grating between us; she disguised with her +black shrouding robe and veil, and thinking that she must suffer +here to expiate the fate of Dr. Grimshaw, who, scorpion-like, stung +himself to death with the venom of his own bad passions. She is a +Sister of Mercy, devoted to good works, and leaves her convent only +in times of war, plague, pestilence or famine, to minister to the +suffering. She nursed me through the yellow fever, when I lay in the +hospital at New Orleans, but when I got well enough to recognize her she +vanished--evaporated--made herself 'thin air,' and another Sister served +in her place." + +"Have you ever seen her since?" + +"Yes, once; I sought out her convent, and went with the fixed +determination to reason with her, and to persuade her not to renew her +vows for another year--you know, the Sisters only take vows for a year +at a time." + +"Did you make any impression on her mind?" inquired Thurston, with more +interest than he had yet shown m any part of the story. + +"'Make any impression on her mind!' No! I--I did not even attempt to. +How could I, when I only saw her behind a grate, with the prioress on +one side of her and the portress on the other? My visit was silent +enough, and short enough, and sad enough. Why can't she come out of +that? What have I done to deserve to be made miserable? I don't deserve +it. I am the most ill-used man in the United States service." + +While Cloudy spoke, old Jenny was hurrying in and out between the house +and the kitchen, and busying herself with setting the table, laying the +cloth and arranging the service. But presently she came in, throwing +wide the door, and announcing: + +"Two gemmun, axin to see marster." + +Thurston arose and turned to confront them, while Paul became suddenly +pale on recognizing two police officers. + +"Good-afternoon, Mr. Willcoxen--good-afternoon, gentlemen," said the +foremost and most respectable-looking of the two, lifting his hat and +bowing to the fireside party. Then replacing it, he said: "Mr. +Willcoxen, will you be kind enough to step this way and give me your +attention, sir." He walked to the window, and Thurston followed him. + +Paul stood with a pale face and firmly compressed lip, and gazed after +them. + +And Cloudy--unsuspicious Cloudy, arose and stood with his back to the +fire and whistled a sea air. + +"Mr. Willcoxen, you can see for yourself the import of this paper," said +the officer, handing the warrant. + +Thurston read it and returned it. + +"Mr. Willcoxen," added the policeman, "myself and my comrade came hither +on horseback. Let me suggest to you to order your carriage. One of us +will accompany you in the drive, and all remarks will be avoided." + +"I thank you for the hint, Mr. Jenkins; I had, how ever, intended to do +as you advise," said Thurston, beckoning his brother to approach. + +"Paul! I am a prisoner. Say nothing at present to Cloudy; permit him to +assume that business takes me away, and go now quietly and order horses +put to the carriage." + +"Dr. Douglass, we shall want your company also," said the officer, +serving Paul with a subpoena. + +Paul ground his teeth together and rushed out of the door. + +"Keep an eye on that young man," said the policeman to his comrade, and +the latter followed Paul into the yard and on to the stables. + +The haste and passion of Paul's manner had attracted Cloudy's attention, +and now he stood looking on with surprise and inquiry. + +"Cloudy," said Thurston, approaching him, "a most pressing affair +demands my presence at C---- this afternoon. Paul must also attend me. I +may not return to-night. Paul, however, certainly will. In the meantime, +Cloudy, my boy, make yourself as much at home and as happy as you +possibly can." + +"Oh! don't mind me! Never make a stranger of me. Go, by all means. I +wouldn't detain you for the world; hope it is nothing of a painful +nature that calls you from home, however. Any parishioner ill, dying and +wanting your ghostly consolations?" + +"Oh, no," said Thurston, smiling. + +"Glad of it! Go, by all means. I will make myself jolly until you +return," said Cloudy, walking up and down the floor whistling a love +ditty, and thinking of little Jacko. He always thought of her with +tenfold intensity whenever he returned home and came into her +neighborhood. + +"Mr. Jenkins, will you follow me to my library?" said Thurston. + +The officer bowed assent and Mr. Willcoxen proceeded thither for the +purpose of securing his valuable papers and locking his secretary and +writing-desk. + +After an absence of some fifteen minutes they returned to the parlor to +find Paul and the constable awaiting them. + +"Is the carriage ready?" asked Mr. Willcoxen. + +"Yes, sir," replied the constable. + +"Then, I believe, we also are--is it not so?" + +The police officer bowed, and Mr. Willcoxen walked up to Cloudy and held +out his hand. + +"Good-by, Cloudy, for the present. Paul will probably be home by +nightfall, even if I should be detained." + +"Oh, don't hurry yourself upon my account. I shall do very well. Jenny +can take care of me," said Cloudy, jovially, as he shook the offered +hand of Thurston. + +Paul could not trust himself to look Cloudy in the face and say +"Good-by." He averted his head, and so followed Mr. Willcoxen and the +officer into the yard. + +Mr. Willcoxen, the senior officer and Paul Douglass entered the +carriage, and the second constable attended on horseback, and so the +party set out for Charlotte Hall. + +Hour after hour passed. Old Jenny came in and put the supper on the +table, and stood presiding over the urn and tea-pot while Cloudy ate his +supper. Old Jenny's tongue ran as if she felt obliged to make up in +conversation for the absence of the rest of the family. + +"Lord knows, I'se glad 'nough you'se comed back," she said; "dis yer +place is bad 'nough. Sam's been waystin' here eber since de fam'ly come +from de city--dey must o' fetch him long o' dem. Now I do 'spose sumtin +is happen long o' Miss Miriam as went heyin' off to de willidge dis +mornin' afore she got her brekfas, nobody on de yeth could tell what +fur. Now de od-er two is gone, an' nobody lef here to mine de house, +'cept 'tis you an' me! Sam's waystin'!" + +Cloudy laughed and tried to cheer her spirits by a gay reply, and then +they kept up between them a lively badinage of repartee, in which old +Jenny acquitted herself quite as wittily as her young master. + +And after supper she cleared away the service, and went to prepare a bed +and light a fire in the room appropriated to Cloudy. + +And so the evening wore away. + +It grew late, yet neither Thurston nor Paul appeared. Cloudy began to +think their return unseasonably delayed, and at eleven o'clock he took +up his lamp to retire to his chamber, when he was startled and arrested +by the barking of dogs, and by the rolling of the carriage into the +yard, and in a few minutes the door was thrown violently open, and Paul +Douglass, pale, haggard, convulsed and despairing, burst suddenly into +the room. + +"Paul! Paul! what in the name of Heaven has happened?" cried Cloudy, +starting up, surprised and alarmed by his appearance. + +"Oh, it has ended in his committal!--it has ended in his committal!--he +is fully committed for trial!--he was sent off to-night to the county +jail at Leonardtown, in the custody of two officers!" + +"Who is committed? What are you talking about, Paul?" said Cloudy, +taking his hand kindly and looking in his face. + +These words and actions brought Paul somewhat to his senses. + +"Oh! you do not know!--you do not even guess anything about it, Cloudy! +Oh, it is a terrible misfortune! Let me sit down and I will tell you!" + +And Paul Douglass threw himself into a chair, and in an agitated, nearly +incoherent manner, related the circumstances that led to the arrest of +Thurston Willcoxen for the murder of Marian Mayfield. + +When he had concluded the strange story, Cloudy started up, took his +hat, and was about to leave the room, + +"Where are you going, Cloudy?" + +"To the stables to saddle my horse, to ride to Leonardtown this night!" + +"It is nearly twelve o'clock." + +"I know it, but by hard riding I can reach Leonardtown by morning, and +be with Thurston as soon as the prison doors are opened. And I will ask +you, Paul, to be kind enough to forward my trunks from the tavern at +Benedict to Leonardtown, where I shall remain to be near Thurston as +long as he needs my services." + +"God bless you, Cloudy! I myself wished to accompany him, but he would +not for a moment hear of my doing so--he entreated me to return hither +to take care of poor Fanny and the homestead." + +Cloudy scarcely waited to hear this benediction, but hurried to the +stables, found and saddled his horse, threw himself into the stirrups, +and in five minutes was dashing rapidly through the thick, low-lying +forest stretching inland from the coast. + +Eight hours of hard riding brought him to the county seat. + +Just stopping long enough to have his horse put up at the best hotel and +to inquire his way to the prison, he hurried thither. + +It was nearly nine o'clock, and the street corners were thronged with +loungers conversing in low, eager tones upon the present all-absorbing +topic of discourse--the astounding event of the arrest of the great +preacher, the Rev. Thurston Willcoxen, upon the charge of murder. + +Hurrying past all these, Cloudy reached the jail. He readily gained +admittance, and was conducted to the cell of the prisoner. He found +Thurston attired as when he left home, sitting at a small wooden stand, +and calmly occupied with his pen. + +He arose, and smilingly extended his hand, saying: + +"This is very kind as well as very prompt, Cloudy. You must have ridden +fast." + +"I did. Leave us alone, if you please, my friend," said Cloudy, turning +to the jailor. + +The latter went out and locked the door upon the friends. + +"This seems a sad event to greet you on your return home. Cloudy; but +never mind, it will all be well!" + +"Sad? It's a farce! I have not an instant's misgiving about the result; +but the present indignity! Oh! oh! I could--" + +"Be calm, my dear Cloudy. Have you heard anything of the circumstances +that led to this?" + +"Yes! Paul told me; but he is as crazy and incoherent as a Bedlamite! I +want you, if you please, Thurston, if you have no objection, to go over +the whole story for me, that I may see if I can make anything of it for +your defense." + +"Poor Paul! he takes this matter far too deeply to heart. Sit down. I +have not a second chair to offer, but take this or the foot of the cot, +as you prefer." + +Cloudy took the foot of the cot. + +"Certainly, Cloudy, I will tell you everything," said Thurston, and +forthwith commenced his explanation. + +Thurston's narrative was clear and to the point. When it was finished +Cloudy asked a number of questions, chiefly referring to the day of the +tragedy. When these were answered he sat with his brows gathered down in +astute thought. Presently he asked: + +"Thurston, have you engaged counsel?" + +"Yes; Mr. Romford has been with me this morning." + +"Is he fully competent?" + +"The best lawyer in the State." + +"When does the court sit?" + +"On Monday week." + +"Have you any idea whether your trial will come on early in the +session?" + +"I presume it will come on very soon, as Mr. Romford informs me there +are but few cases on the docket." + +"Thank Heaven for that, as your confinement here promises to be of very +short duration. However, the limited time makes it the more necessary +for me to act with the greater promptitude. I came here with the full +intention of remaining in town as long as you should be detained in this +infernal place, but I shall have to leave you within the hour." + +"Of course, Cloudy, my dear boy, I could not expect you to restrict +yourself to this town so soon after escaping from the confinement of +your ship!" + +"Oh! you don't understand me at all! Do you think I am going away on my +own business, or amusement, while you are here? To the devil with the +thought!--begging your reverence's pardon. No, I am going in search of +Jacquelina. Since hearing your explanation, particularly that part of it +relating to your visit to Luckenough, upon the morning of the day of +Marian's death, and the various scenes that occurred there--certain +vague ideas of my own have taken form and color, and I feel convinced +that Jacquelina could throw some light upon this affair." + +"Indeed! why should you think so?" + +"Oh! from many small indexes, which I have neither the time nor +inclination to tell you; for, taken apart from collateral circumstances +and associations, they would appear visionary. Each in itself is really +trivial enough, but in the mass they are very indicative. At least, I +think so, and I must seek Jacquelina out immediately. And to do so, +Thurston, I must leave you this moment, for there is a boat to leave the +wharf for Baltimore this morning if it has not already gone. It will +take me two days to reach Baltimore, another day to get to her convent, +and it will altogether be five or six days before I can get back here. +Good-by, Thurston! Heaven keep you, and give you a speedy deliverance +from this black hole!" + +And Cloudy threw his arms around Thurston in a brotherly embrace, and +then knocked at the door to be let out. + +In half an hour Cloudy was "once more upon the waters," in full sail for +Baltimore. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +MARIAN. + + +Great was the consternation caused by the arrest of a gentleman so high +in social rank and scholastic and theological reputation as the Rev. +Thurston Willcoxen, and upon a charge, too, so awful as that for which +he stood committed! It was the one all-absorbing subject of thought and +conversation. People neglected their business, forgetting to work, to +bargain, buy or sell. Village shopkeepers, instead of vamping their +wares, leaned eagerly over their counters, and with great dilated eyes +and dogmatical forefingers, discussed with customers the merits or +demerits of the great case. Village mechanics, occupied solely with the +subject of the pastor's guilt or innocence, disappointed with impunity +customers who were themselves too deeply interested and too highly +excited by the same subject, to remember, far less to rebuke them, for +unfulfilled engagements. Even women totally neglected, or badly +fulfilled, their domestic avocations; for who in the parish could sit +down quietly to the construction of a garment or a pudding while their +beloved pastor, the "all praised" Thurston Willcoxen, lay in prison +awaiting his trial for a capital crime? + +As usual in such cases, there was very little cool reasoning, and very +much passionate declamation. The first astonishment had given place to +conjecture, which yielded in turn to dogmatic judgments--acquiescing or +condemning, as the self-constituted judges happened to be favorable or +adverse to the cause of the minister. + +When the first Sabbath after the arrest came, and the church was closed +because the pulpit was unoccupied, the dispersed congregation, haunted +by the vision of the absent pastor in his cell, discussed the matter +anew, and differed and disputed, and fell out worse than ever. Parties +formed for and against the minister, and party feuds raged high. + +Upon the second Sabbath--being the day before the county court should +sit--a substitute filled the pulpit of Mr. Willcoxen, and his +congregation reassembled to hear an edifying discourse from the text: "I +myself have seen the ungodly in great power, and flourishing like a +green bay-tree. I went by, and lo! he was gone; I sought him, but his +place was nowhere to be found." + +This sermon bore rather hard (by pointed allusions) upon the great +elevation and sudden downfall of the celebrated minister, and, in +consequence, delighted one portion of the audience and enraged the +other. The last-mentioned charged the new preacher with envy, hatred and +malice, and all uncharitableness, besides the wish to rise on the ruin +of his unfortunate predecessor, and they went home in high indignation, +resolved not to set foot within the parish church again until the +honorable acquittal of their own beloved pastor should put all his +enemies, persecutors and slanderers to shame. + +The excitement spread and gained force and fire with space. The press +took it up, and went to war as the people had done. And as far as the +name of Thurston Willcoxen had been wafted by the breath of fame, it was +now blown by the "Blatant Beast." Ay, and farther, too! for those who +had never even heard of his great talents, his learning, his eloquence, +his zeal and his charity, were made familiar with his imputed crime and +shuddered while they denounced. And this was natural and well, so far as +it went to prove that great excellence is so much less rare than great +evil, as to excite less attention. The news of this signal event spread +like wildfire all over the country, from Maine to Louisiana, and from +Missouri to Florida, producing everywhere great excitement, but falling +in three places with the crushing force of a thunderbolt. + +First by Marian's fireside. + +In a private parlor of a quiet hotel, in one of the Eastern cities, sat +the lady, now nearly thirty years of age, yet still in the bloom of her +womanly beauty. + +She had lately arrived from Europe, charged with one of those benevolent +missions which it was the business and the consolation of her life to +fulfill. + +It was late in the afternoon, and the low descending sun threw its +golden gleam across the round table at which she sat, busily engaged +with reading reports, making notes, and writing letters connected with +the affair upon which she had come. + +Seven years had not changed Marian much--a little less vivid, perhaps, +the bloom on cheeks and lips, a shade paler the angel brow, a shade +darker the rich and lustrous auburn tresses, softer and calmer, fuller +of thought and love the clear blue eyes--sweeter her tones, and gentler +all her motions--that was all. Her dress was insignificant in material, +make and color, yet the wearer unconsciously imparted a classic and +regal grace to every fold and fall of the drapery. No splendor of +apparel could have given such effect to her individual beauty as this +quiet costume; I would I were an artist that I might reproduce her image +as she was--the glorious face and head, the queenly form, in its plain +but graceful robe of I know not what--gray serge, perhaps. + +Her whole presence--her countenance, manner and tone revealed the +richness, strength and serenity of a faithful, loving, self-denying, +God-reliant soul--of one who could recall the past, endure the present, +and anticipate the future without regret, complaint or fear. + +Sometimes the lady's soft eyes would lift themselves from her work to +rest with tenderness upon the form of a little child, so small and still +that you would not have noticed her presence but in following the lady's +loving glance. She sat in a tiny rocking chair, nursing a little white +rabbit on her lap. She was not a beautiful child--she was too diminutive +and pale, with hazy blue eyes and faded yellow hair; yet her little face +was so demure and sweet, so meek and loving, that it would haunt and +soften you more than that of a beautiful child could. The child had been +orphaned from her birth, and when but a few days old had been received +into the "Children's Home." + +Marian never had a favorite among her children, but this little waif was +so completely orphaned, so desolate and destitute, and withal so puny, +fragile and lifeless that Marian took her to her own heart day and +night, imparting from her own fine vital temperament the warmth and +vigor that nourished the perishing little human blossom to life and +health. If ever a mother's heart lived in a maiden's bosom, it was in +Marian's. As she had cherished Miriam, she now cherished Angel, and she +was as fondly loved by the one as she had been by the other. And so for +five years past Angel had been Marian's inseparable companion. She sat +with her little lesson, or her sewing, or her pet rabbit, at Marian's +feet while she worked; held her hand when she walked out, sat by her +side at the table or in the carriage, and slept nestled in her arms at +night. She was the one earthly blossom that bloomed in Marian's solitary +path. + +Angel now sat with her rabbit on her knees, waiting demurely till Marian +should have time to notice her. + +And the lady still worked on, stopping once in a while to smile upon the +child. There was a file of the evening papers lying near at hand upon +the table where she wrote, but Marian had not yet had time to look at +them. Soon, however, she had occasion to refer to one of them for the +names of the members of the Committee on Public Lands. In casting her +eyes over the paper, her glance suddenly lighted upon a paragraph that +sent all the blood from her cheeks to her heart. She dropped the paper, +sank back in her chair, and covered her blanched face with both hands, +and strove for self-control. + +Angel softly put down the rabbit and gently stole to her side and looked +up with her little face full of wondering sympathy. + +Presently Marian began passing her hands slowly over her forehead, with +a sort of unconscious self-mesmerism, and then she dropped them wearily +upon her lap, and Angel saw how pallid was her face, how ashen and +tremulous her lip, how quivering her hands. But after a few seconds +Marian stooped and picked the paper up and read the long, +wonder-mongering affair, in which all that had been and all that had +seemed, as well as many things could neither be nor seem, were related +at length, or conjectured, or suggested. It began by announcing the +arrest of the Rev. Thurston Willcoxen upon the charge of murder, and +then went back to the beginning and related the whole story, from the +first disappearance of Marian Mayfield to the late discoveries that had +led to the apprehension of the supposed murderer, with many additions +and improvements gathered in the rolling of the ball of falsehood. Among +the rest, that the body of the unhappy young lady had been washed ashore +several miles below the scene of her dreadful fate, and had been +charitably interred by some poor fisherman. The article concluded by +describing the calm demeanor of the accused and the contemptuous manner +in which he treated a charge so grave, scorning even to deny it. + +"Oh, I do not wonder at the horror and consternation this matter has +caused. When the deed was attempted, more than the intended death wound +didn't overcome me! And nothing, nothing in the universe but the +evidence of my own senses could have convinced me of his purposed guilt! +And still I cannot realize it! He must have been insane! But he treats +the discovery of his intended and supposed crime with scorn and +contempt! Alas! alas! is this the end of years of suffering and +probation? Is this the fruit of that long remorse, from which I had +hoped so much for his redemption--a remorse without repentance, and +barren of reformation! Yet I must save him." + +She arose and rang the bell, and gave orders to have two seats secured +for her in the coach that would leave in the morning for Baltimore. And +then she began to walk up and down the floor, to try and walk off the +excitement that was fast gaining upon her. + +Before this night and this discovery, not for the world would Marian +have made her existence known to him, far less would she have sought his +presence. Nay, deeming such a meeting improper as it was impossible, her +mind had never contemplated it for an instant. She had watched his +course, sent anonymous donations to his charities, hoped much from his +repentance and good works, but never hoped in any regard to herself. But +now it was absolutely necessary that she should make her existence known +to him. She would go to him! She must save him! She should see him, and +speak to him--him whom she had never hoped to meet again in life! She +would see him again in three days! The thought was too exciting even for +her strong heart and frame and calm, self-governing nature! And in +defiance of reason and of will, her long-buried youthful love, her pure, +earnest, single-hearted love, burst its secret sepulchre, and rejoiced +through all her nature. The darkness of the past was, for the time, +forgotten. Memory recalled no picture of unkindness, injustice or +inconstancy. Even the scene upon the beach was faded, gone, lost! But +the light of the past glowed around her--their seaside strolls and +woodland wanderings-- + +"The still, green places where they met, + The moonlit branches dewy wet, + The greeting and the parting word, + The smile, the embrace, the tone that made + An Eden of the forest shade--" + +kindling a pure rapture from memory, and a wild longing from hope, that +her full heart could scarce contain. + +But soon came on another current of thought and feeling opposed to the +first--doubt and fear of the meeting. For herself she felt that she +could forget all the sorrows of the past; aye! and with fervent glowing +soul, and flushed cheeks, and tearful eyes, and clasped hands, she +adored the Father in Heaven that He had put no limit to forgiveness--no! +in that blessed path of light all space was open to the human will, and +the heart might forgive infinitely--and to its own measureless extent. + +But how would Thurston meet her? He had suffered such tortures from +remorse that doubtless he would rejoice "with exceeding great joy" to +find that the deed attempted in some fit of madness had really not been +effected. But his sufferings had sprung from remorse of conscience, not +from remorse of love. No! except as his deliverer, he would probably not +be pleased to see her. As soon as this thought had seized her mind, +then, indeed, all the bitterer scenes in the past started up to life, +and broke down the defenses reared by love, and faith, and hope, and let +in the tide of anguish and despair that rolled over her soul, shaking it +as it had not been shaken for many years. And her head fell upon her +bosom, and her hands were clasped convulsively, as she walked up and +down the floor--striving with herself--striving to subdue the rebel +passions of her heart--striving to attain her wonted calmness, and +strength, and self-possession, and at last praying earnestly: "Oh, +Father! the rains descend, and the floods come, and the winds blow and +beat upon my soul; let not its strength fall as if built upon the sand." +And so she walked up and down, striving and praying; nor was the +struggle in vain--once more she "conquered a peace" in her own bosom. + +She turned her eyes upon little Angel. The infant was drooping over one +arm of her rocking-chair like a fading lily, but her soft, hazy eyes, +full of vague sympathy, followed the lady wherever she went. + +Marian's heart smote her for her temporary forgetfulness of the child's +wants. It was now twilight, and Marian rang for lights, and Angel's milk +and bread, which were soon brought. + +And then with her usual quiet tenderness she undressed the little one, +heard her prayers, took her up, and as she rocked, sang a sweet, low +evening hymn, that soothed the child to sleep and her own heart to +perfect rest. And early the next morning Marian and little Angel set out +by the first coach for Baltimore, on their way to St. Mary's County. + + * * * * * + +The Convent of Bethlehem was not only the sanctuary of professed nuns, +the school for girls, the nursery of orphans, but it was also the +temporary home of those Sisters of Mercy who go forth into the world +only on errands of Christian love and charity, and return to their +convent often only to die, worn out by toil among scenes and sufferers +near which few but themselves would venture. And as they pass hence to +Heaven, their ranks are still filled up from the world--not always by +the weary and disappointed. Often young Catholic girls voluntarily leave +the untried world that is smiling fair before them to enter upon a life +of poverty, self-denial and merciful ministrations; so even in this +century the order of the Sisters of Mercy is kept up. + +Among the most active and zealous of the order of Bethlehem was the +Sister Theresa, the youngest of the band. Youthful as she was, however, +this Sister's heart was no sweet sacrifice of "a flower offered in the +bud;" on the contrary, I am afraid that Sister Theresa had trifled with, +and pinched, and bruised, and trampled the poor budding heart, until she +thought it good for nothing upon earth before she offered it to Heaven. +I fear it was nothing higher than that strange revulsion of feeling, +world-weariness, disappointment, disgust, remorse, fanaticism--either, +any, or all of these, call it what you will, that in past ages and +Catholic countries have filled monasteries with the whilom, gay, worldly +and ambitious; that has sent many a woman in the prime of her beauty and +many a man at the acme of his power into a convent; that transformed the +mighty Emperor Charles V. into a cowled and shrouded monk; the reckless +swashbuckler, Ignatius Loyola, into a holy saint, and the beautiful +Louise de la Valliere into an ascetic nun; which finally metamorphosed +the gayest, maddest, merriest elf that ever danced in the moonlight +into--Sister Theresa. + +Poor Jacquelina! for, of course, you can have no doubt that it is of her +we are speaking--she perpetrated her last lugubrious joke on the day +that she was to have made her vows, for when asked what patron saint she +would select by taking that saint's name in religion, she answered--St. +Theresa, because St. Theresa would understand her case the best, having +been, like herself, a scamp and a rattle-brain before she took it into +her head to astonish her friends by becoming a saint. Poor Jacko said +this with the solemnest face and the most serious earnestness; but, with +such a reputation as she had had for pertness, of course nobody would +believe but that she was making fun of the "Blessed Theresa," and so she +was put upon further probation, with the injunction to say the seven +penitential Psalms seven times a day, until she was in a holier frame of +mind; which she did, though under protest that she didn't think the +words composed by David to express his remorse for his own enormous sin +exactly suited her case. Sister Theresa, if the least steady and devout, +was certainly the most active and zealous and courageous among them all. +She yawned horribly over the long litanies and long sermons; but if ever +there was a work of mercy requiring extraordinary labor, privation, +exposure and danger, Sister Theresa was the one to face, in the cause, +lightning and tempest, plague, pestilence and famine, battle and murder, +and sudden death! Happy was she? or content? No; she was moody, +hysterical and devotional by turns--sometimes a zeal for good works +would possess her; sometimes the old fun and quaintness would break out, +and sometimes an overwhelming fit of remorse--each depending upon the +accidental cause that would chance to arouse the moods. + +Humane creatures are like climates--some of a temperate atmosphere, +taking even life-long sorrow serenely--never forgetting, and never +exaggerating its cause--never very wretched, if never quite happy. +Others of a more torrid nature have long, sunny seasons of bird-like +cheerfulness and happy forgetfulness, until some slight cause, striking +"the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound," shall startle up +memory--and grief, intensely realized, shall rise to anguish, and a +storm shall pass through the soul, shaking it almost to dissolution, and +the poor subject thinks, if she can think, that her heart must go to +pieces this time! But the storm passes, and nature, instead of being +destroyed, is refreshed and ready for the sunshine and the song-birds +again. The elastic heart throws off its weight, the spirits revive, and +life goes on joyously in harmony with nature. + +So it was with Jacquelina, with this sad difference, that as her trouble +was more than sorrow--for it was remorse--it was never quite thrown off. +It was not that her conscience reproached her for the fate of Dr. +Grimshaw, which was brought on by his own wrongdoing, but Marian's +fate--that a wild, wanton frolic of her own should have caused the early +death of one so young, and beautiful, and good as Marian! that was the +thought that nearly drove poor Jacquelina mad with remorse, whenever she +realized it. Dr. Grimshaw was forgiven, and--forgotten; but the thought +of Marian was the "undying worm," that preyed upon her heart. And so, +year after year, despite the arguments and persuasions of nearest +friends, and the constancy of poor Cloudy, Jacquelina tearfully turned +from love, friendship, wealth and ease, and renewed her vows of poverty, +celibacy, obedience, and the service of the poor, sick and ignorant, in +the hope of expiating her offense, soothing the voice of conscience, and +gaining peace. Jacquelina would have made her vows perpetual by taking +the black veil, but her Superior constantly dissuaded her from it. She +was young, and life, with its possibilities, was all before her; she +must wait many years before she took the step that could not be +retracted without perjury. And so each year she renewed her vow a +twelvemonth. The seventh year of her religious life was drawing to its +close, and she had notified her superior of her wish now, after so many +years of probation, to take the black veil, and make her vows perpetual. +And the Abbess had, at length, listened favorably to her expressed +wishes. + +But a few days after this, as the good old Mother, Martha, the portress, +sat dozing over her rosary, behind the hall grating, the outer door was +thrown open, and a young man, in a midshipman's undress uniform, entered +rather brusquely, and came up to the grating. Touching his hat precisely +as if the old lady had been his superior officer, he said, hastily: + +"Madam, if you please, I wish to see Mrs. ----; you know who I mean, I +presume? my cousin, Jacquelina." + +The portress knew well enough, for she had seen Cloudy there several +times before, but she replied: + +"You mean, young gentleman, that pious daughter, called in the world +Mrs. Grimshaw, but in religion Sister Theresa?" + +"Fal lal!--that is--I beg your pardon, Mother, but I wish to see the +lady immediately. Can I do so?" + +"The dear sister Theresa is at present making her retreat, preparatory +to taking the black veil." + +"The what!" exclaimed Cloudy, with as much horror as if it had been the +"black dose" she was going to take. + +"The black veil--and so she cannot be seen." + +"Madam, I have a very pressing form of invitation here, which people are +not very apt to disregard. Did you ever hear of a subpoena, dear +Mother?" + +The good woman never had, but she thought it evidently something +"uncanny," for she said, "I will send for the Abbess;" and she beckoned +to a nun within, and sent her on the errand--and soon the Abbess +appeared, and Cloudy made known the object of his visit. + +"Go into the parlor, sir, and Sister Theresa will attend you," said that +lady. + +And Cloudy turned to a side door on his right hand, and went into the +little receiving-room, three sides of which were like other rooms, but +the fourth side was a grating instead of a wall. Behind this grating +appeared Jacquelina--so white and thin with confinement, fasting and +vigil, and so disguised by her nun's dress as to be unrecognizable to +any but a lover's eyes: with her was the Abbess. + +Cloudy went up to the grating. Jacquelina put her hand through, and +spoke a kind greeting; but Cloudy glanced at the Abbess, looked +reproachfully at Jacquelina, and then turning to the former, said: + +"Madam, I wish to say a few words in confidence to my cousin here. Can I +be permitted to do so?" + +"Most certainly, young gentleman; Sister Theresa is not restricted. It +was at her own request that I attended her hither." + +"Thank you, dear lady--that which I have to say to--Sister +Theresa--involves the confidence of others: else I should not have made +the request that you have so kindly granted," said Cloudy, considerably +mollified. + +The Abbess curtsied in the old stately way, and retired. + +Cloudy looked at Jacquelina reproachfully. + +"Are you going to be a nun, Lina?" + +"Yes. Oh, Cloudy, Cloudy! what do you come here to disturb my thoughts +so for? Oh, Cloudy! every time you come to see me, you do so upset and +confuse my mind! You have no idea how many aves and paters, and psalms +and litanies I have to say before I can quiet my mind down again! And +now this is worse than all. Dear, dear Cloudy!--St. Mary, forgive me, I +never meant that--I meant plain Cloudy--see how you make me sin in +words! What did you send Mother Ettienne away for?" + +"That I might talk to you alone. Why do you deny me that small +consolation, Lina? How have I offended, that you should treat me so?" + +"In no way at all have you offended, dearest Cloudy--St. Peter! there it +is again--I mean only Cloudy." + +"Never mind explaining the distinction. You are going to be a nun, you +say! Very well--let that pass, too! But you must leave your convent, and +go into the world yet once more, and then I shall have opportunities of +talking to you before your return." + +"No, no; never will I leave my convent--never will I subject my soul to +such a temptation." + +"My dear Lina, I have the cabalistic words that must draw you +forth--listen! Our cousin, Thurston Willcoxen, is in prison, charged +with the murder of Marian Mayfield"--a stifled shriek from +Jacquelina--"and there is circumstantial evidence against him strong +enough to ruin him forever, if it does not cost him his life. Now, Lina, +I cannot be wrong in supposing that you know who struck that death-blow, +and that your evidence can thoroughly exonerate Thurston from suspicion! +Am I right?" + +"Yes! yes! you are right," exclaimed Jacquelina, in great agitation. + +"You will go, then?" + +"Yes! yes." + +"When?" + +"In an hour--this moment--with you." + +"With me?" + +"Yes! I may do so in such a case. I must do so! Oh! Heaven knows, I have +occasioned sin enough, without causing more against poor Thurston!" + +"You will get ready, then, immediately, dear Lina. Are you sure there +will be no opposition?" + +"Certainly not. Why, Cloudy, are you one of those who credit 'raw head +and bloody bones' fables about convents? I have no jailer but my own +conscience, Cloudy. Besides, my year's vows expired yesterday, and I am +free for awhile, before renewing them perpetually," said Jacquelina, +hurrying away to get ready. + +"And may I be swung to the yard-arm if ever I let you renew them," said +Cloudy, while he waited for her. + +Jacquelina was soon ready, and Cloudy rejoined her in the front entry, +behind the grating of which the good old portress, as she watched the +handsome middy drive off with her young postulant, devoutly crossed +herself, and diligently told her beads. + + * * * * * + +Commodore Waugh and his family were returning slowly from the South, +stopping at all the principal towns for long rests on their way +homeward. + +The commodore was now a wretched, helpless old man, depending almost for +his daily life upon the care and tenderness of Mrs. Waugh. + +Good Henrietta, with advancing years, had continued to "wax fat," and +now it was about as much as she could do, with many grunts, to get up +and down stairs. Since her double bereavement of her "Hebe" and her +"Lapwing," her kind, motherly countenance had lost somewhat of its +comfortable jollity, and her hearty mellow laugh was seldom heard. +Still, good Henrietta was passably happy, as the world goes, for she had +the lucky foundation of a happy temper and temperament--she enjoyed the +world, her friends and her creature comforts--her sound, innocent +sleep--her ambling pony, or her easy carriage--her hearty meals and her +dreamy doze in the soft armchair of an afternoon, while Mrs. L'Oiseau +droned, in a dreary voice, long homilies for the good of the commodore's +soul. + +Mrs. L'Oiseau had got to be one of the saddest and maddest fanatics that +ever afflicted a family. And there were hours when, by holding up too +graphic, terrific, and exasperating pictures of the veteran's past and +present wickedness and impenitence, and his future retribution, in the +shape of an external roasting in the lake that burneth with fire and +brimstone--she drove the old man half frantic with rage and fright! And +then she would nearly finish him by asking: "If hell was so horrible to +hear of for a little while, what must it be to feel forever and ever?" + +They had reached Charleston, on their way home. Mrs. L'Oiseau, too much +fatigued to persecute her uncle for his good, had gone to her chamber. + +The commodore was put comfortably to bed. + +And Mrs. Waugh took the day's paper, and sat down by the old man's side, +to read him the news until he should get sleepy. As she turned the paper +about, her eyes fell upon the same paragraph that had so agitated +Marian. Now, Henrietta was by no means excitable--on the contrary, she +was rather hard to be moved; but on seeing this announcement of the +arrest of Mr. Willcoxen, for the crime with which he was charged, an +exclamation of horror and amazement burst from her lips. In another +moment she had controlled herself, and would gladly have kept the +exciting news from the sick man until the morning. + +But it was too late--the commodore had heard the unwonted cry, and now, +raised upon his elbow, lay staring at her with his great fat eyes, and +insisting upon knowing what the foul fiend she meant by screeching out +in that manner? + +It was in vain to evade the question--the commodore would hear the news. +And Mrs. Waugh told him. + +"And by the bones of Paul Jones, I always believed it!" falsely swore +the commodore; and thereupon he demanded to hear "all about it." + +Mrs. Waugh commenced, and in a very unsteady voice read the long account +quite through. The commodore made no comment, except an occasional grunt +of satisfaction, until she had finished it, when he growled out: + +"Knew it!--hope they'll hang him!--d----d rascal! If it hadn't been for +him, there'd been no trouble in the family! Now call Festus to help to +turn me over, and tuck me up, Henrietta; I want to go to sleep!" + +That night Mrs. Waugh said nothing, but the next morning she proposed +hurrying homeward with all possible speed. + +But the commodore would hear of no such thing. He swore roundly that he +would not stir to save the necks of all the scoundrels in the world, +much less that of Thurston, who, if he did not kill Marian, deserved +richly to be hanged for giving poor Nace so much trouble. + +Mrs. Waugh coaxed and urged in vain. The commodore rather liked to hear +her do so, and so the longer she pleaded, the more obstinate and dogged +he grew, until at last Henrietta desisted--telling him, very +well!--justice and humanity alike required her presence near the unhappy +man, and so, whether the commodore chose to budge or not, she should +surely leave Charleston in that very evening's boat for Baltimore, so as +to reach Leonardtown in time for the trial. Upon hearing this, the +commodore swore furiously; but knowing of old that nothing could turn +Henrietta from the path of duty, and dreading above all things to lose +her comfortable attentions, and be left to the doubtful mercies of Mary +L'Oiseau, he yielded, though with the worst possible grace, swearing all +the time that he hoped the villain would swing for it yet. + +And then the trunks were packed, and the travelers resumed their +homeward journey. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +THE TRIAL. + + +The day of the trial came. It was a bright spring day, and from an early +hour in the morning the village was crowded to overflowing with people +collected from all parts of the county. The court-room was filled to +suffocation. It was with the greatest difficulty that order could be +maintained when the prisoner, in the custody of the high sheriff, was +brought into court. + +The venerable presiding judge was supposed to be unfriendly to the +accused, and the State's Attorney was known to be personally, as well as +officially, hostile to his interests. So strongly were the minds of the +people prejudiced upon one side or the other that it was with much +trouble that twelve men could be found who had not made up their +opinions as to the prisoner's innocence or guilt. At length, however, a +jury was empaneled, and the trial commenced. When the prisoner was +placed at the bar, and asked the usual question, "Guilty or not guilty?" +some of the old haughtiness curled the lip and flashed from the eye of +Thurston Willcoxen, as though he disdained to answer a charge so base; +and he replied in a low, scornful tone: + +"Not guilty, your honor." + +The opening charge of the State's Attorney had been carefully prepared. +Mr. Thomson had never in his life had so important a case upon his +hands, and he was resolved to make the most of it. His speech was well +reasoned, logical, eloquent. To destroy in the minds of the jury every +favorable impression left by the late blameless and beneficent life of +Mr. Willcoxen, he did not fail to adduce, from olden history, and from +later times, every signal instance of depravity, cloaked with hypocrisy, +in high places; he enlarged upon wolves in sheeps' clothing--Satan in an +angel's garb, and dolefully pointed out how many times the indignant +question of--"Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing?"--had +been answered by results in the affirmative. He raked up David's sin +from the ashes of ages. Where was the scene of that crime, and who was +its perpetrator--in the court of Israel, by the King of Israel--a man +after God's own heart. Could the gentlemen of the jury be surprised at +the appalling discovery so recently made, as if great crimes in high +places were impossible or new things under the sun? He did not fail to +draw a touching picture of the victim, the beautiful, young +stranger-girl, whom they all remembered and loved--who had come, an +angel of mercy, on a mission of mercy, to their shores. Was not her +beauty, her genius, her goodness--by which all there had at some time +been blessed--sufficient to save her from the knife of the assassin? No! +as he should shortly prove. Yet all these years her innocent blood had +cried to Heaven in vain; her fate was unavenged, her _manes_ unappeased. + +All the women, and all the simple-hearted and unworldly among the men, +were melted into tears, very unpropitious to the fate of Thurston; tears +not called up by the eloquence of the prosecuting attorney, so much as +by the mere allusion to the fate of Marian, once so beloved, and still +so fresh in the memories of all. + +Thurston heard all this--not in the second-hand style with which I have +summed it up--but in the first vital freshness, when it was spoken with +a logic, force, and fire that carried conviction to many a mind. +Thurston looked upon the judge--his face was stern and grave. He looked +upon the jury--they were all strangers, from distant parts of the +county, drawn by idle curiosity to the scene of trial, and arriving +quite unprejudiced. They were not his "peers," but, on the contrary, +twelve as stolid-looking brothers as ever decided the fate of a +gentleman and scholar. Thence he cast his eyes over the crowd in the +court-room. + +There were his parishioners! hoary patriarchs and gray-haired matrons, +stately men and lovely women, who, from week to week, for many years, +had still hung delighted on his discourses, as though his lips had been +touched with fire, and all his words inspired! There they were around +him again! But oh! how different the relations and the circumstances! +There they sat, with stern brows and averted faces, or downcast eyes, +and "lips that scarce their scorn forbore." No eye or lip among them +responded kindly to his searching gaze, and Thurston turned his face +away again; for an instant his soul sunk under the pall of despair that +fell darkening upon it. It was not conviction in the court he thought +of--he would probably be acquitted by the court--but what should acquit +him in public opinion? The evidence that might not be strong enough to +doom him to death would still be sufficient to destroy forever his +position and his usefulness. No eye, thenceforth, would meet his own in +friendly confidence. No hand grasp his in brotherly fellowship. + +The State's Attorney was still proceeding with his speech. He was now +stating the case, which he promised to prove by competent witnesses--how +the prisoner at the bar had long pursued his beautiful but hapless +victim--how he had been united to her by a private marriage--that he had +corresponded with her from Europe--that upon his return they had +frequently met--that the prisoner, with the treachery that would soon be +proved to be a part of his nature, had grown weary of his wife, and +transferred his attentions to another and more fortune-favored lady--and +finally, that upon the evening of the murder he had decoyed the unhappy +young lady to the fatal spot, and then and there effected his purpose. +The prosecuting attorney made this statement, not with the brevity with +which it is here reported, but with a minuteness of detail and warmth of +coloring that harrowed up the hearts of all who heard it. He finished by +saying that he should call the witnesses in the order of time +corresponding with the facts they came to prove. + +"Oliver Murray will take the stand." + +This, the first witness called, after the usual oath, deposed that he +had first seen the prisoner and the deceased together in the Library of +Congress; had overheard their conversation, and suspecting some +unfairness on the part of the prisoner, had followed the parties to the +navy yard, where he had witnessed their marriage ceremony. + +"When was the next occasion upon which you saw the prisoner?" + +"On the night of the 8th of April, 182-, on the coast, near Pine Bluff. +I had landed from a boat, and was going inland when I passed him. I did +not see his face distinctly, but recognized him by his size and form, +and peculiar air and gait. He was hurrying away, with every mark of +terror and agitation." + +This portion of Mr. Murray's testimony was so new to all as to excite +the greatest degree of surprise, and in no bosom did it arouse more +astonishment than in that of Thurston. The witness was strictly +cross-questioned by the counsel for the prisoner, but the +cross-examination failed to weaken his testimony, or to elicit anything +more favorable to the accused. Oliver Murray was then directed to stand +aside. + +The next witness was Miriam Shields. Deeply veiled and half fainting, +the poor girl was led in between Colonel and Miss Thornton, and allowed +to sit while giving evidence. When told to look at the prisoner at the +bar, she raised her death-like face, and a deep, gasping sob broke from +her bosom. But Thurston fixed his eyes kindly and encouragingly upon +her--his look said plainly: "Fear nothing, dear Miriam! Be courageous! +Do your stern duty, and trust in God." + +Miriam then identified the prisoner as the man she had twice seen alone +with Marian at night. She further testified that upon the night of April +8th, 182-, Marian had left home late in the evening to keep an +appointment--from which she had never returned. That in the pocket of +the dress she had laid off was found the note appointing the meeting +upon the beach for the night in question. Here the note was produced. +Miriam identified the handwriting as that of Mr. Willcoxen. + +Paul Douglass was next called to the stand, and required to give his +testimony in regard to the handwriting. Paul looked at the piece of +paper that was placed before him, and he was sorely tempted. How could +he swear to the handwriting unless he had actually seen the hand write +it? he asked himself. He looked at his brother. But Thurston saw the +struggle in his mind, and his countenance was stern and high, and his +look authoritative, and commanding--it said: "Paul! do not dare to +deceive yourself. You know the handwriting. Speak the truth if it kill +me." And Paul did so. + +The next witness that took the stand was Dr. Brightwell--the good old +physician gave his evidence very reluctantly--it went to prove the fact +of the prisoner's absence from the deathbed of his grandfather upon the +night of the reputed murder, and his distracted appearance when +returning late in the morning. + +"Why do you say reputed murder?" + +"Because, sir, I never consider the fact of a murder established, until +the body of the victim has been found." + +"You may stand down." + +Dr. Solomon Weismann was next called to the stand, and corroborated the +testimony of the last witness. + +Several other witnesses were then called in succession, whose testimony +being only corroborative, was not very important. And the prisoner was +remanded, and the court adjourned until ten o'clock the next morning. + +"Life will be saved, but position and usefulness in this neighborhood +gone forever, Paul," said Thurston, as they went out. + +"Evidence very strong--very conclusive to our minds, yet not sufficient +to convict him," said one gentleman to another. + +"I am of honest Dr. Brightwell's opinion--that the establishment of a +murder needs as a starting point the finding of the body; and, moreover, +that the conviction of a murderer requires an eye-witness to the deed. +The evidence, so far as we have heard it, is strong enough to ruin the +man, but not strong enough to hang him," said a third. + +"Ay! but we have not heard all, or the most important part of the +testimony. The State's Attorney has not fired his great gun yet," said a +fourth, as the crowd elbowed, pushed, and struggled out of the +court-room. + +Those from distant parts of the county remained in the village all +night--those nearer returned home to come back in the morning. + +The second day of the trial, the village was more crowded than before. +At ten o'clock the court opened, the prisoner was shortly afterward +brought in, and the prosecution renewed its examination of witnesses. +The next witness that took the stand was a most important one. John +Miles, captain of the schooner _Plover_. He deposed that in the month of +April, 182-, he was mate in the schooner _Blanch_, of which his father +was the captain. That in said month the prisoner at the bar had hired +his father's vessel to carry off a lady whom the prisoner declared to be +his own wife; that they were to take her to the Bermudas. That to effect +their object, his father and himself had landed near Pine Bluff; the +night was dark, yet he soon discerned the lady walking alone upon the +beach. They were bound to wait for the arrival of the prisoner, and a +signal from him before approaching the lady. They waited some time, +watching from their cover the lady as she paced impatiently up and down +the sands. At length they saw the prisoner approaching. He was closely +wrapped up in his cloak, and his hat was pulled over his eyes, but they +recognized him well by his air and gait. They drew nearer still, keeping +in the shadow, waiting for the signal. The lady and the prisoner met--a +few words passed between them--of which he, the deponent, only heard +"Thurston?" "Yes, Thurston!" and then the prisoner raised his arm and +struck, and the lady fell. His father was a cautious man, and when he +saw the prisoner rush up the cliff and disappear, when he saw that the +lady was dead, and that the storm was beginning to rage violently and +the tide was coming in, and fearing, besides, that he should get into +trouble, he hurried into the boat and put off and boarded the schooner, +and as soon as possible set sail for Bermuda. They had kept away from +this coast for years, that is to say, as long as the father lived. + +John Miles was cross-examined by Mr. Romford, but without effect. + +This testimony bore fatally upon the prisoner's cause--the silence of +consternation reigned through the crowd. + +Thurston Willcoxen, when he heard this astounding evidence, first +thought that the witness was perjured, but when he looked closely upon +his open, honest face, and fearless eye and free bearing, he saw that no +consciousness of falsehood was there and he could but grant that the +witness, naturally deceived by "foregone conclusions," had inevitably +mistaken the real murderer for himself. + +Darker and darker lowered the pall of fate over him--the awful stillness +of the court was oppressive, was suffocating; a deathly faintness came +upon him, for now, for the first time, he fully realized the awful doom +that threatened him. Not long his nature bowed under the burden--his +spirit rose to throw it off, and once more the fine head was proudly +raised, nor did it once sink again. The last witness for the prosecution +was called and took the stand, and deposed that he lived ten miles down +the coast in an isolated, obscure place; that on the first of May, 182-, +the body of a woman had been found at low tide upon the beach, that it +had the appearance of having been very long in the water--the clothing +was respectable, the dress was dark blue stuff, but was faded in +spots--there was a ring on the finger, but the hand was so swollen that +it could not be got off. His poor neighbors of the coast assembled. They +made an effort to get the coroner, but he could not be found. And the +state of the body demanded immediate burial. When cross-questioned by +Lawyer Romford, the witness said that they had not then heard of any +missing or murdered lady, but had believed the body to be that of a +shipwrecked passenger, until they heard of Miss Mayfield's fate. + +Miriam was next recalled. She came in as before, supported between +Colonel and Miss Thornton. Every one who saw the poor girl, said that +she was dying. When examined, she deposed that Marian, when she left +home, had worn a blue merino dress--and, yes, she always wore a little +locket ring on her finger. Drooping and fainting as she was, Miriam was +allowed to leave the court-room. This closed the evidence of the +prosecution. + +The defense was taken up and conducted with a great deal of skill. Mr. +Romford enlarged upon the noble character his client had ever maintained +from childhood to the present time--they all knew him--he had been born +and had ever lived among them--what man or woman of them all would have +dared to suspect him of such a crime? He spoke warmly of his truth, +fidelity, Christian zeal, benevolence, philanthropy and great public +benefits. + +I have no space nor time to give a fair idea of the logic and eloquence +with which Mr. Romford met the charges of the State's Attorney, nor the +astute skill with which he tried to break down the force of the evidence +for the prosecution. Then he called the witnesses for the defense. They +were all warm friends of Mr. Willcoxen, all had known him from boyhood, +none would believe that under any possible circumstances he could commit +the crime for which he stood indicted. They testified to his well-known +kindness, gentleness and benevolence--his habitual forbearance and +command of temper, even under the most exasperating provocations--they +swore to his generosity, fidelity and truthfulness in all the relations +of life. In a word, they did the very best they could to save his life +and honor--but the most they could do was very little before the force +of such evidence as stood arrayed against him. And all men saw that +unless an _alibi_ could be proved, Thurston Willcoxen was lost! Oh! for +that _alibi_. Paul Douglass was again undergoing an awful temptation. +Why, he asked himself, why should he not perjure his soul, and lose it, +too, to save his brother's life and honor from fatal wrong? And if there +had not been in Paul's heart a love of truth greater than his fear of +hell, his affection for Thurston would have triumphed, he would have +perjured himself. + +The defense here closed. The State's Attorney did not even deem it +necessary to speak again, and the judge proceeded to charge the jury. +They must not, he said, be blinded by the social position, clerical +character, youth, talents, accomplishments or celebrity of the +prisoner--with however dazzling a halo these might surround him. They +must deliberate coolly upon the evidence that had been laid before them, +and after due consideration of the case, if there was a doubt upon their +minds, they were to let the prisoner have the full benefit of +it--wherever there was the least uncertainty it was right to lean to the +side of mercy. + +The case was then given to the jury. The jury did not leave their box, +but counseled together in a low voice for half an hour, during which a +death-like silence, a suffocating atmosphere filled the court-room. + +Thurston alone was calm, his soul had collected all its force to meet +the shock of whatever fate might come--honor or dishonor, life or death! + +Presently the foreman of the jury arose, followed by the others. + +Every heart stood still. + +"Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon your verdict?" demanded the +judge. + +"Yes, your honor," responded the foreman, on the part of his colleagues. + +"How say you--is the prisoner at the bar 'Guilty or not guilty?'" + +"Not guilty!" cried the shrill tones of a girl near the outer door, +toward which all eyes, in astonishment and inquiry, were now turned, to +see a slight female figure, in the garb of a Sister of Mercy, clinging +to the arm of Cloudesley Mornington, and who was now pushing and +elbowing his way through the crowd toward the bench. + +All gave way--many that were seated arose to their feet, and spoke in +eager whispers, or looked over each others' heads. + +"Order! silence in the court!" shouted the marshal. + +"Your honor--this lady is a vitally important witness for the defense," +said Cloudy, pushing his way into the presence of the judge, leaving his +female companion standing before the bench and then hurrying to the +dock, where he grasped the hand of the prisoner, exclaiming, +breathlessly: "Saved--Thurston! Saved!" + +"Order! silence!" called out the marshal, by way of making himself +agreeable--for there was silence in the court, where all the audience at +least were more anxious to hear than to speak. + +"Your honor, I move that the new witness be heard," said Mr. Romford. + +"The defense is closed--the charge given to the jury, who have decided +upon their verdict," answered the State's Attorney. + +"The verdict has not been rendered, the jury have the privilege of +hearing this new witness," said the judge. + +The jury were unanimous in the resolution to withhold their verdict +until they had heard. + +This being decided, the Sister of Mercy took the stand, threw aside her +long, black veil, and revealed the features of Jacquelina; but so pale, +weary, anxious and terrified, as to be scarcely recognizable. + +The usual oath was administered. + +And while Cloudy stood triumphantly by the side of Mr. Willcoxen, +Jacquelina prepared to give her evidence. + +She was interrupted by a slight disturbance near the door, and the +rather noisy entrance of several persons, whom the crowd, on beholding, +recognized as Commodore Waugh, his wife, his niece, and his servant. +Some among them seemed to insist upon being brought directly into the +presence of the judge and jury--but the officer near the door pointed +out to them the witness on the stand, waiting to give testimony; and on +seeing her they subsided into quietness, and suffered themselves to be +set aside for a while. + +When this was over--a lady, plainly dressed, and close-veiled, entered, +and addressed a few words to the same janitor. But the latter replied as +he had to the others, by pointing to the witness on the stand. The +veiled lady seemed to acquiesce, and sat down where the officer directed +her. + +"Order! silence in the court!" cried the marshal, not to be behindhand. + +And order and silence reigned when the Sister gave in her evidence as +follows: + +"My name is Jacquelina L'Oiseau--not Grimshaw--for I never was the wife +of Dr. Grimshaw. I do not like to speak further of myself, yet it is +necessary, to make my testimony clear. While yet a child I was +contracted to Dr. Grimshaw in a civil marriage, which was never +ratified. I was full of mischief in these days, and my greatest pleasure +was to torment and provoke my would-be bridegroom; alas! alas! it was to +that wanton spirit that all the disaster is owing. Thurston Willcoxen +and Marian Mayfield were my intimate friends. On the morning of the 8th +of April, 182-, they were both at Luckenough. Thurston left early. After +he was gone Marian chanced to drop a note, which I picked up and read. +It was in the handwriting of Thurston Willcoxen, and it appointed a +meeting with Marian upon the beach, near Pine Bluff, for that evening." + +Here Mr. Romford placed in her hands the scrap of paper that had already +formed such an important part of the evidence against the prisoner. + +"Is that the note of which you speak?" + +"Yes--that is the note. And when I picked it up the wanton spirit of +mischief inspired me with the wish to use it for the torment of Dr. +Grimshaw, who was easily provoked to jealously! Oh! I never thought it +would end so fatally! I affected to lose the note, and left it in his +way. I saw him pick it up and read it. I felt sure he thought--as I +intended he should think--it was for me. There were other circumstances +also to lead him to the same conclusion. He dropped the note where he +had picked it up and pretended not to have seen it; afterwards I in the +same way restored it to Marian. To carry on my fatal jest, I went home +in the carriage with Marian, to Old Field Cottage, which stands near the +coast. I left Marian there and set out to return to Luckenough--laughing +all the time, alas! to think that Dr. Grimshaw had gone to the coast to +intercept what he supposed to be my meeting with Thurston! Oh, God, I +never thought such jests could be so dangerous! Alas! alas! he met +Marian Mayfield in the dark, and between the storm without and the storm +within--the blindness of night and the blindness of rage--he stabbed her +before he found out his mistake, and he rushed home with her innocent +blood on his hands and clothing--rushed home and into my presence, to +reproach me as the cause of his crime, to fill my bosom with undying +remorse, and then to die! He had in the crisis of his passion, ruptured +an artery and fell--so that the blood found upon his hands and clothing +was supposed to be his own. No one knew the secret of his blood +guiltiness but myself. In my illness and delirium that followed I +believe I dropped some words that made my aunt, Mrs. Waugh, and Mr. +Cloudesley Mornington, suspect something; but I never betrayed my +knowledge of the dead man's unintentional crime, and would not do so +now, but to save the innocent. May I now sit down?" + +No! the State's Attorney wanted to take her in hand, and cross-examine +her, which he began to do severely, unsparingly. But as she had told the +exact truth, though not in the clearest style, the more the lawyer +sifted her testimony, the clearer and more evident its truthfulness and +point became; until there seemed at length nothing to do but acquit the +prisoner. But courts of law are proverbially fussy, and now the State's +Attorney was doing his best to invalidate the testimony of the last +witness. + +Turn we from them to the veiled lady, where she sat in her obscure +corner of the room, hearing all this. + +Oh! who can conceive, far less portray the joy, the unspeakable joy that +filled her heart nearly to breaking! He was guiltless! Thurston, her +beloved, was guiltless in intention, as he was in deed! the thought of +crime had not been near his heart! his long remorse had been occasioned +by what he had unintentionally made her suffer. He was all that he had +lately appeared to the world! all that he had at first appeared to +her!--faithful, truthful, constant, noble, generous--her heart was +vindicated! her love was not the madness, the folly, the weakness that +her intellectual nature had often stamped it to be! Her love was +vindicated, for he deserved it all! Oh! joy unspeakable--oh! joy +insupportable! + +She was a strong, calm, self-governing woman--not wont to be overcome by +any event or any emotion--yet now her head, her whole form, drooped +forward, and she sank upon the low balustrade in front of her +seat--weighed down by excess of happiness--happiness so absorbing that +for a time she forgot everything else; but soon she remembered that her +presence was required near the bench, to put a stop to the debate +between the lawyers, and she strove to quell the tumultuous excitement +of her feelings, and to recover self-command before going among them. + +In the meantime, near the bench, the counsel for the prisoner had +succeeded in establishing the validity of the challenged testimony, and +the case was once more about to be recommitted to the jury, when the +lady, who had been quietly making her way through the crowd toward the +bench, stood immediately in front of the judge, raised her veil, and +Marian Mayfield stood revealed. + +With a loud cry the prisoner sprang upon his feet; but was immediately +captured by two officers, who fancied he was about to escape. + +Marian did not speak one word, she could not do so, nor was it +necessary--there she stood alive among them--they all knew her--the +judge, the officers, the lawyers, the audience--there she stood alive +among them--it was enough! + +The audience arose in a mass, and "Marian!" "Marian Mayfield!" was the +general exclamation, as all pressed toward the newcomer. + +Jacquelina, stunned with the too sudden joy, swooned in the arms of +Cloudy, who, between surprise and delight, had nearly lost his own +senses. + +The people pressed around Marian, with exclamations and inquiries. + +The marshal forgot to be disorderly with vociferations of "Order!" and +stood among the rest, agape for news. + +Marian recovered her voice and spoke: + +"I am not here to give any information; what explanation I have to make +is due first of all to Mr. Willcoxen, who has the right to claim it of +me when he pleases," and turning around she moved toward the dock, +raising her eyes to Thurston's face, and offering her hand. + +How he met that look--how he clasped that hand--need not be said--their +hearts were too full for speech. + +The tumult in the court-room was at length subdued by the rising of the +judge to make a speech--a very brief one: + +"Mr. Willcoxen is discharged, and the court adjourned," and then the +judge came down from his seat, and the officers cried, "make way for the +court to pass." And the way was made. The judge came up to the group, +and shook hands first with Mr. Willcoxen, whom he earnestly +congratulated, and then with Marian, who was an old and esteemed +acquaintance, and so bowing gravely, he passed out. + +Still the crowd pressed on, and among them came Commodore Waugh and his +family, for whom way was immediately made. + +Mrs. Waugh wept and smiled, and exclaimed: "Oh! Hebe! Oh! Lapwing!" + +The commodore growled out certain inarticulate anathemas, which he +intended should be taken as congratulations, since the people seemed to +expect it of him. + +And Mary L'Oiseau pulled down her mouth, cast up her eyes and crossed +herself when she saw the consecrated hand of Sister Theresa clasped in +that of Cloudy! + +But Thurston's high spirit could not brook this scene an instant longer. +And love as well as pride required its speedy close. Marian was resting +on his arm--he felt the clasp of her dear hand--he saw her living +face--the angel brow--the clear eyes--the rich auburn tresses, rippling +around the blooming cheek--he heard her dulcet tones--yet--it seemed +too like a dream!--he needed to realize this happiness. + +"Friends," he said, "I thank you for the interest you show in us. For +those whose faith in me remained unshaken in my darkest hour, I find no +words good enough to express what I shall ever feel. But you must all +know how exhausting this day has been, and how needful repose is"--his +eyes here fell fondly and proudly upon Marian--"to this lady on my arm. +After to-morrow we shall be happy to see any of our friends at +Dell-Delight." And bowing slightly from right to left, he led his Marian +through the opening crowd. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +REUNION. + + +Who shall follow them, or intrude on the sacredness of their +reconciliation, or relate with what broken tones, and frequent stops and +tears and smiles, and clinging embraces, their mutual explanations were +made? + +At last Marian, raising her head from his shoulder, said: + +"But I come to you a bankrupt, dear Thurston! I have inherited and +expended a large fortune since we parted--and now I am more than +penniless, for I stand responsible for large sums of money owed by my +'Orphans Home' and 'Emigrants Help'--money that I had intended to raise +by subscription." + +"Now, I thank God abundantly for the wealth that He has given me. Your +fortune, dearest Marian, has been nobly appropriated--and for the rest, +it is my blessed privilege to assume all your responsibilities--and I +rejoice that they are great! for, sweetest wife, and fairest lady, I +feel that I never can sufficiently prove how much I love and reverence +you--how much I would and ought to sacrifice for you!" + +"And even now, dear Thurston, I came hither, bound on a mission to the +Western prairies, to find a suitable piece of land for a colony of +emigrants." + +"I know it, fairest and dearest lady, I know it all. I will lift that +burden from your shoulders, too, and all liabilities of yours do I +assume--oh! my dear Marian! with how much joy! and I will labor with and +for you, until all your responsibilities of every sort are discharged, +and my liege lady is free to live her own life!" + +This scene took place in the private parlor of the hotel, while Paul +Douglass was gone to Colonel Thornton's lodgings, to carry the glad +tidings to Miriam, and also to procure a carriage for the conveyance of +the whole party to Dell-Delight. + +He returned at last, accompanied by Miriam, whom he tenderly conducted +into the room, and who, passing by all others, tottered forward, and +sank, weeping, at the feet of Mr. Willcoxen, and clasping his knees, +still wept, as if her heart would break. + +Thurston stooped and raised her, pressed the kiss of forgiveness on her +young brow, and then whispered: + +"Miriam, have you forgotten that there is another here who claims your +attention?" took her by the hand and led her to Marian. + +The young girl was shy and silent, but Marian drew to her bosom, saying: + +"Has my 'baby' forgotten me? And so, you would have been an avenger, +Miriam. Remember, all your life, dear child, that such an office is +never to be assumed by an erring human creature. 'Vengeance is mine, and +I will repay, saith the Lord.'" And kissing Miriam fondly; she resigned +her to Paul's care, and turned, and gave her own hand to Thurston, who +conducted her to the carriage, and then returned for little Angel, who +all this time had sat demurely in a little parlor chair. + +They were followed by Paul and Miriam, and so set forth for +Dell-Delight. + +But little more remains to be told. + +Thurston resigned his pastoral charge of the village Church; settled up +his business in the neighborhood; procured a discreet woman to keep +house at Dell-Delight; left Paul, Miriam and poor Fanny in her care, and +set out with Marian on their western journey, to select the site for the +settlement of her emigrant _proteges_. After successfully accomplishing +this mission, they returned East, and embarked for Liverpool, and thence +to London, where Marian dissolved her connection with the "Emigrants' +Help," and bade adieu to her "Orphans' Home." Thurston made large +donations to both these institutions. And Marian saw that her place was +well supplied to the "Orphans' Home" by another competent woman. Then +they returned to America. Their travels had occupied more than twelve +months. And their expenses, of all sorts, had absorbed more than a third +of Mr. Willcoxen's princely fortune--yet with what joy was it lavished +by his hand, who felt he could not do too much for his priceless Marian. + +On their return home a heartfelt gratification met them--it was that the +parish had shown their undiminished confidence in Mr. Willcoxen, and +their high appreciation of his services, by keeping his pulpit open for +him. And a few days after his settlement at home a delegation of the +vestry waited upon him to solicit his acceptance of the ministry. And +after talking with his "liege lady," as he fondly and proudly termed +Marian, Mr. Willcoxen was well pleased to return a favorable answer. + +And in a day or two Thurston and Marian were called upon to give +decision in another case, to wit: + +Jacquelina had not returned to Bethlehem, nor renewed her vows; but had +doffed her nun's habit for a young lady's dress, and remained at +Luckenough. Cloudy had not failed to push his suit with all his might. +But Jacquelina still hesitated--she did not know, she said, but she +thought she had no right to be happy, as other people had, she had +caused so much trouble in the world, she reckoned she had better go back +to her convent. + +"And because you unintentionally occasioned some sorrow, now happily +over, to some people, you would atone for the fault by adding one more +to the list of victims, and making me miserable. Bad logic, Lina, and +worse religion." + +Jacquelina did not know--she could not decide--after so many grave +errors, she was afraid to trust herself. The matter was then +referred--of all men in the world--to the commodore, who graciously +replied, that they might go to the demon for him. But as Cloudy and Lina +had no especial business with his Satanic Majesty they declined to avail +themselves of the permission, and consulted Mrs. Waugh, whose deep, +mellow laugh preceded her answer, when she said: + +"Take heart, Lapwing! take heart, and all the happiness you can possibly +get! I have lived a long time, and seen a great many people, good and +bad, and though I have sometimes met people who were not so happy as +they merited--yet I never have seen any one happier than they deserved +to be! and that they cannot be so, seems to be a law of nature that +ought to reconcile us very much to the apparent flourishing of the +wicked." + +But Mrs. L'Oiseau warned her daughter not to trust to "Aunty," who +was so good-natured, and although such a misguided woman, that if she +had her will she would do away with all punishment--yes, even with +Satan and purgatory! But Jacquelina had much less confidence in Mrs. +L'Oiseau than in Mrs. Waugh; and so she told Cloudy, who thought that +he had waited already quite long enough, to wait until Marian and +Thurston came home, and if they thought it would be right for her to be +happy--why--then--maybe--she might be! But the matter must be referred +to them. + +And now it was referred to them, by the sorely tried Cloudy. And they +gave Jacquelina leave to be "happy." And she was happy! And as for +Cloudy, poor, constant fellow! he was so overjoyed that he declared he +would petition the Legislature to change his name as no longer +appropriate, for though his morning had been cloudy enough, his day was +going to be a very bright one! + +When Mrs. L'Oiseau heard of this engagement, she crossed herself, and +told her beads, and vowed that the world was growing so wicked that she +could no longer live in it. And she commenced preparations to retire to +a convent, to which in fact she soon after went, and where in strict +truth, she was likely to be much happier than her nature would permit +her to be elsewhere. + +Cloudy and Lina were very quietly married, and took up their abode at +the pleasant farmhouse of Locust Hill, which was repaired and +refurnished for their reception. But if the leopard cannot change his +spots, nor the Ethiope his skin--neither can the fairy permanently +change her nature; for no sooner was Jacko's happiness secured, than the +elfish spirit, the lightest part of her nature, effervesced to the +top--for the torment of Cloudy. Jacko and Cloudy, even, had one +quarrel--it was upon the first occasion after their marriage, of his +leaving her to join his ship--and when the whilom Sister of Charity +drove Cloudy nearly frantic by insisting--whether in jest or earnest no +one on earth could tell--upon donning the little middy's uniform and +going with him! However, the quarrel happily was never renewed, for +before the next time of sailing, there appeared a certain tiny Cloudy at +home, that made the land quite as dear as the sea to its mother. And +this little imp became Mrs. Waugh's especial pet. And if Jacquelina did +not train the little scion very straight, at least she did not twist him +awry. And she even tried, in her fitful, capricious way, to reform her +own manners, that she might form those of her little children. And Mrs. +Waugh and dear Marian aided her and encouraged her in her uncertain +efforts. + +About this time, Paul and Miriam were united, and went to housekeeping +in the pretty villa built for them upon the site of Old Field Cottage by +Thurston, and furnished for them by Mrs. Waugh. + +And a very pleasant country neighborhood they formed--these three young +families--of Dell-Delight, Locust Hill and the villa. + +Two other important events occurred in their social circle--first, poor +harmless Fanny passed smilingly to her heavenly home, and all thought it +very well. + +And one night Commodore Waugh, after eating a good, hearty supper, was +comfortably tucked up in bed, and went into a sound, deep sleep from +which he never more awoke. May he rest in peace. But do you think Mrs. +Waugh did not cry about it for two weeks, and ever after speak of him as +the poor, dear commodore? + +But Henrietta was of too healthful a nature to break her heart for the +loss of a very good man, and it was not likely she was going to do so +for the missing of a very uncomfortable one; and so in a week or two +more her happy spirits returned, and she began to realize to what +freedom, ease and cheerfulness she had fallen heir! Now she could live +and breathe, and go and come without molestation. Now when she wished to +open her generous heart to the claims of affection in the way of helping +Lapwing or Miriam, who were neither of them very rich--or to the greater +claims of humanity in the relief of the suffering poor, or the pardon of +delinquent servants, she could do so to her utmost content, and without +having to accompany her kind act with a deep sigh at the anticipation of +the parlor storm it would raise at home. And though Mrs. Henrietta still +"waxed fat," her good flesh was no longer an incumbrance to her--the +leaven of cheerfulness lightened the whole mass. + +Mrs. Waugh had brought her old maid Jenny back. Jenny had begged to come +home to "old mistress" for she said it was "'stonishin how age-able," +she felt, though nobody might believe it, she was "gettin' oler and +oler, ebery singly day" of her life, and she wanted to end her days +"'long o' ole mistress." + +Old mistress was rich and good, and Luckenough was a quiet, comfortable +home, where the old maid was very sure of being lodged, boarded, and +clothed almost as well as old mistress herself--not that these selfish +considerations entered largely into Jenny's mind, for she really loved +Mrs. Henrietta. + +And old mistress and old maid were never happier than on some fine, +clear day, when seated on their two old mules, they ambled along through +forest and over field, to spend a day with Lapwing or with Hebe--or +perhaps with the "Pigeon Pair," as they called the new married couple at +the villa. + +Yes; there was a time when Mrs. Henrietta was happier still! It was, +when upon some birthday or other festival, she would gather all the +young families--Thurston and Hebe, Cloudy and Lapwing, the Pigeons, and +all the babies, in the big parlor of Luckenough, and sit surrounded by a +flock of tiny lapwings, hebes and pigeons, forming a group that our +fairy saucily called, "The old hen and chickens." + +And what shall we say in taking leave of Thurston and Marian? He had had +some faults, as you have seen--but the conquering of faults is the +noblest conquest, and he had achieved such a victory. He called Marian +the angel of his salvation. Year by year their affection deepened and +strengthened, and drew them closer in heart and soul and purpose. From +their home as from a center emanated a healthful, beneficent and +elevating influence, happily felt through all their social circle. A +lovely family grew around them--and among the beautiful children none +were more tenderly nursed or carefully trained than the little waif, +Angel. And in all the pleasant country neighborhood, the sweetest and +the happiest home is that of Dell-Delight. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MISSING BRIDE*** + + +******* This file should be named 14382.txt or 14382.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/3/8/14382 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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