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+*** 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 ***