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- The Project Gutenberg eBook of Lovers' Saint Ruth's and Three Other Tales, by Louise Imogen Guiney.
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lovers' Saint Ruth's, by Louise Imogen Guiney
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-
-Title: Lovers' Saint Ruth's
- and Three Other Tales
-
-Author: Louise Imogen Guiney
-
-Release Date: September 22, 2017 [EBook #55601]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVERS' SAINT RUTH'S ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Emmy, David E. Brown, MFR and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</a></span>
-<h1 class="nobreak">LOVERS' SAINT RUTH'S<br />
-
-And Three Other Tales</h1></div>
-
-<p class="center">BY<br />
-LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/title.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<p class="center">BOSTON<br />
-COPELAND AND DAY<br />
-M DCCC XCV</p>
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</a></span>COPYRIGHT BY COPELAND AND DAY 1895</p>
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span>
-TO CLARENCE J. BLAKE AND FRANCES<br />
-H. BLAKE, A BOOK FINISHED ON THEIR<br />
-OWN WILD ACRES OF THE MAINE COAST.<br />
-<br />
-October, 1894.
-</p>
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span></p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">AUTHOR'S PREFACE.</h2></div>
-
-
-<p><span class="smcap">The</span> contents of this book have, hitherto,
-never been printed nor published.
-One chapter among them, <i>The Provider</i>,
-is based very literally on a tragic thing
-which happened, some years ago, in Dublin,
-and which, figuring as a cable despatch
-of some ten lines in a Boston daily
-newspaper, fell under my eye, to be remembered,
-and afterwards cast into its
-present form. In the September (1895)
-number of <i>Harpers' Magazine</i>, little Father
-Time and his adopted brother, in
-<i>Hearts Insurgent</i>, end their innocent lives
-from Hughey's strange motive, though
-not in his manner. It is perhaps worth
-while to state that my story was finished
-and laid by, prior to the appearance of
-the novel in its serial form, lest I should
-seem fain to melt my waxen wings in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span>
-fire of the Wessex sun. It is possible
-that the actual incident had come to Mr.
-Hardy's notice also, and with a keen and
-pitiful interest for so expert a student of
-human nature. A curious circumstance
-in his relation of it is that the elder child,
-in order that there may be more room in
-a hard world for the persons he loves, disposes
-not only of himself, but presumably
-of the younger child as well; and in the
-original version of my story Hughey
-jumped into the river with his sister
-Nora in his arms. But a friend of mine,
-who read the manuscript in 1894, a
-writer of great insight whose opinion I
-value in the extreme, so wrought with me
-to change the cruel ending, that I did so
-then and there, after some argument, and
-sent the boy of "long, long thoughts"
-uncompanied to his fate. The point of
-all this is, of course, that I now perceive
-my small invention had dared, unconsciously,
-to keep yet closer pace than
-would appear with Mr. Hardy's; for the
-suicide of real life was the suicide of one
-child alone.</p>
-
-<p>The other three sketches here are more
-imaginative; and the first of them, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span>
-bears the earliest date, was, from end to
-end, a dream, and is somewhat reluctantly
-included. They stand for apprentice-work
-in fiction, and are my only
-attempts of that kind.</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-L. I. G.</p>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">London</span>, September 6th, 1895.</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span></p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">Contents</h2></div>
-
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4" summary="table">
-
-<tr><td>Lovers' Saint Ruth's</td><td align="right">Page &nbsp; <a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td>Our Lady of the Union</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td>An Event on the River </td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td>The Provider </td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">LOVERS' SAINT RUTH'S.</h2></div>
-
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Though</span> his curate was away, the incumbent
-of Orrinleigh, my kind Cyril
-Nasmith, had thrown aside his everlasting
-scrolls and folios, and spent the whole
-morning out-of-doors with me. We had
-been over the castle park and gallery, and
-even into the dairy, and thence up the
-path by a trout-stream to the site of a
-Saxon city; and Nasmith had been enthusiastically
-educating me all the way.
-I knew that there was little enough for
-him to do meanwhile. His village sheep
-were very tame and white; and his other
-sheep, at the manor, all wild and black:
-theology seemed to fall rather flat between
-them. So, by the dispensation of Providence,
-in his work-day leisure he had
-relapsed into the one intellectual passion
-of his life, archæology: a wise, worshipping
-sort of man, and the prince of Anglican
-antiquaries. As for me, he loved<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>
-me better than ever when he found what
-genuine interest I took in his quiet hidden
-corner of &mdash;&mdash;shire, whither I came
-from London to pass a memorable night
-and day with him, after a sixteen years'
-separation; for his boyhood had been
-spent in my own Maryland, his mother's
-family being Americans. It was a little
-sober, pastoral place, this Orrinleigh, with
-its straw-browed cottages bosomed in roses,
-sitting all in a row upon the overshaded
-lane, and, from the height where we stood,
-looking like so many sepia-tinted mushrooms
-in the broad green world. Just
-beyond us, in the near neighborhood of
-Orrinleigh House, the gray sham-Grecian
-porch of his ritualistic Tudor church
-skulked in the faint May sun. "What
-do you call that?" I said. "It is the
-one ugly thing hereabouts." He smiled.
-"Of course it is ugly, structurally," he
-answered in an apologetic tone; "Saint
-Ruth's was built in King James the
-First's time; I do not pride myself on
-that. But you should see the ruin, Holden!
-a darling bit of Early Decorated.
-Walk over there now with me. We have
-the time to give; and it is only a couple<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>
-of miles away." And off he started at
-his brisk bachelor pace, fixing his shovel-hat
-well on his forehead, for we were in
-the teeth of the inland breeze. "This
-enormity," I remarked, casting a sportive
-thumb over my shoulder, "has an odd
-name: Saint Ruth's." He corrected me
-in his most amiable fashion. "The title
-is not unique; and it has every precedent,
-pre-Christian as it is. Have you never
-heard, good sceptic, of Saint Joachim?
-nay, of Saint Michael, another person
-who might have proved an <i>alibi</i> if he ever
-came up for Roman canonization? Besides,
-the name has ancient local sanction.
-This Saint Ruth's-on-the-Hill continues
-the dedication of the other to which we
-are going: Lovers' Saint Ruth's." "Lovers'
-Saint Ruth's?" I exclaimed, keen at
-the scent. "Come now, Nasmith, there's
-some legend back of that; you know
-there is. Let us have it." And that is
-how I heard the story.</p>
-
-<p>He told it not without reluctance, as
-if it were a precious thing he could not
-easily part with, even to an old friend.
-All along the road, as we went between
-the pleasant farm-lands, stepping over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>
-golden pools of primroses between the
-wheel-tracks, little silences broke into
-his talk. Nasmith's heart is truly in the
-past; and humbly happy indeed it keeps
-him. We had been through the gallery
-before breakfast, and he reminded me of
-it, by way of prelude. "Do you remember
-how pleased you were with the great
-Vandyck on the east wall?" The grouped
-portrait of a blonde man, a blonde woman,
-and a child unlike either; how
-beautiful it was! the two unforgettable
-melancholy faces contrasting oddly with
-the ruddy dark-eyed boy in a yellow
-doublet, playing with his dog before them
-on the floor.</p>
-
-<p>"Well, you saw there the Lord Richard,
-and his wife, the Lady Eleanor. He
-was the third Earl's only son, born in the
-year 1606. The house of Orrinleigh was
-founded by his grand-uncle, on murder
-and fraud. Richard, almost the only
-Langham with a conscience, had it in
-too great a degree, and grew up, one
-knows not why, with a diseased sense of
-impending retribution; and, therefore,
-when misfortune for a while overwhelmed
-him and his, it found him not unprepared.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>
-His mother was a Neville; he
-had great prospects and possessions.
-Lady Eleanor was a sweet lass of honorable
-blood, a good squire's daughter,
-and the youngest of a family of eight.
-She belonged over there in Frambleworth,
-where you see the twin spires. From
-boyhood and girlhood these two clung
-to each other. I wonder if one ever
-sees such fast love now-a-days: so simple,
-so deep, so long-suffering, all made
-of rapture and grief! They were betrothed
-early, with a kiss given under
-the shadow of the king yew in the old
-church-yard; they both cherished the
-place to the end, and there lies their dust.
-You see, the original Saint Ruth's was a
-monastic chapel; and it was stripped, and
-left to fall to pieces, by the greed of the
-rascally Reformers, (excuse me; that's
-what I must call them!" muttered my
-filial High Churchman), "and it was
-nearly as much of a ruin in Lord Richard's
-youth as it is to-day. For a whole generation,
-Orrinleigh had no Christian services
-at all, and dropped into less than
-paganism; for which nobody seemed to
-care, until the architectural hodge-podge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>
-on the hill was raised by the old Earl,
-and the people were gradually gathered in
-to learn all about a new code of moral
-beauty from the nakedest, dullest, and
-vulgarest object in the three kingdoms.
-As I was saying, the two young people
-made their tryst by the priory wall,
-secretly, as it had to be; for the Earl
-would not hear of penniless Eleanor
-Thurlocke for his heir's bride; and the
-squire, a staunch Elizabethan Protestant,
-favored young Kit Brimblecombe, or his
-cousin Austin, for her suitor, and held
-aloof from the Lord Richard, whom he
-suspected of having reclaimed his ancestors'
-faith and become a Papist, while at
-Oxford. That, as it happened, was true
-enough; and, moreover, the girl herself
-had followed her lover back into the old
-religion: so that there were disadvantage
-and danger of all kinds, in those days,
-behind them and before. The little
-church meant much to them both, the
-pathetic ghost of what had been so famous
-and fair. There they used to meet,
-when luck served, for what great comfort
-they could still reap out of their narrowing
-lives, shedding tears on each other's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>
-breasts over that outlook which seemed
-so cruelly hopeless. But a terrible tragedy
-broke up and changed their youth,
-and it was at Lovers' Saint Ruth's that
-it happened.</p>
-
-<p>"Eleanor was barely past eighteen, and
-Richard not one-and-twenty. It was
-spring twilight, when he rode down alone
-to the valley, galloping, because, for once,
-he was a little late to meet his maid. She
-also had started on foot, across the dewy
-field-path from Frambleworth, having for
-company part of the way an old market-woman
-and her goodman, who would not
-have betrayed the object of her journey
-for worlds. They left her at the lonely
-cross-roads, whence she gayly took her
-way west, with Orrinleigh Church, as it
-was still called, almost in sight. The
-next morning their bodies were found,
-not fifty rods away; and it is clear to me,
-that, hearing Eleanor's first stifled call,
-they had turned back to her rescue, and
-so perished at the hands of the wicked.
-With whom the guilt lay, none ever
-knew; the blame was laid upon the gypsies,
-I think unjustly, and three of them
-were hanged on these very downs. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>
-a wild time; and desperate men, singly,
-or in bands, mad for food and plunder,
-and reeling drunk from cellar to cellar,
-were over this peaceful county. The
-squire's ewe lamb, whom, in his senses,
-a devil might have spared with a blessing
-on her sweet looks, was foully waylaid,
-and worse than murdered. In the face of
-agony and humiliation, her spirit fainted
-away. Hours later, when all was still,
-and the dazzling moon was up over the
-sycamores, Eleanor Thurlocke awoke,
-and, with her last spasmodical strength,
-dragged herself to the end of the lane,
-and on to the hollow stone step of the
-church, to die. It was past midnight.
-Who should be within those crumbling
-walls, even then, but her own Richard,
-kneeling in his satin dress, with a lighted
-hand-lamp by his side, his brow raised to
-Heaven? He had missed her; and he
-knew not what to think for disappointment
-and anxious love; and, sleep being
-far from him, there had he waited until
-now before the fallen altar-stone where
-they had so often prayed together. As
-dejectedly he swung back the outer door,
-he saw his dear, her thick gold locks unbound,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>
-her vesture in disorder, her hands
-chilled and bleeding from the stony travel
-and the briers. Without a question, for
-he was ever a ready courageous lad, he
-put out the lantern, and cast it under a
-bush; and, gathering Eleanor into his
-strong arms, first making the sign of the
-cross upon her brow, he climbed the hill
-slowly, steadily, and bore her straight
-into Orrinleigh House, and into his dead
-mother's chamber. He made no sound;
-but he left her long enough to get restoratives,
-and then hurried back, and laid her
-tenderly in the high-canopied bed there,
-radiant in the moonshine; and, keeping
-his own heart smothered, so that it could
-utter no least cry, placed the door ajar,
-and began to pace, soft as a tiger, to and
-fro, to and fro, to and fro, outside.
-When the white of dawn appeared, he
-crept in and crouched low beside the pillows.
-She opened her eyes, and, with
-his haggard cheek close to hers, stammered
-to him, piteously, as best she
-could, her knowledge of what had befallen.
-He did not speak nor move for
-a long while, partly because he feared so
-for her jarred mind. But he knew the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>
-house would be stirring with the day, and
-events lay in his hands. It was a strange,
-inconsistent thing, but entirely in harmony
-with the Lord Richard's fatalistic
-character, that neither then, nor ever after,
-would he proclaim the true fact. To
-save her from certain slander, to wall her
-in with reparation on every side, was his
-one passionate impulse. He knew that
-having carried her by night to Orrinleigh,
-he must bear the burden of his own deed.
-He made his resolve to explain nothing,
-for her sake, and to act as became the
-overmastering affection he had for her.
-He breathed quickly and firmly in her
-ear: 'Nell!' She smiled faintly at
-him. 'Nell, darling, this must be our
-bridal-morn.' A low groan, such as
-made him shiver like the air around a
-fire, was her only answer; such a heart-rending
-groan of pure unreasoning horror
-as his ears had never heard. But he
-could not flinch now; the morn was
-breaking, fresh and undelayed, over his
-altered world. With the still force which
-was in him, and which, from his boyhood,
-could compel every one he knew, the
-Lord Richard said: 'Yes.' 'Yes!' she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>
-echoed, after a while, as if in a weary
-dream, and fell unconscious again. Then
-he rose, and called old Stephen Bowles,
-the servant whom he could best trust,
-and despatched him, on his own horse,
-ere the sun was up, for a priest eleven
-miles away. And there, in his dead
-mother's chamber, with one only witness,
-and in such wretchedness, the two were
-hastily wed, Eleanor lying quietly, since
-they dared not raise her, and the hope of
-Orrinleigh kneeling with his curly bronze
-head buried in her white little hands.
-When the others had gone, for he had set
-himself much to do, he sought his father.
-Sealing his lips thenceforward against the
-mystery which had hurried his action, he
-spoke out, and told him he had married
-Eleanor Thurlocke, and that he hoped
-he might be forgiven if he had seemed
-undutiful; and before the old Earl, who
-was dressing, could show his rage, quietly
-walked away, and rode over to Frambleworth,
-and made almost the same speech,
-in Eleanor's behalf, to the squire. Such
-wrath, and curiosity, and excitement, and
-upbraiding were never in this neighborhood
-before; for the two young people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>
-lived in the eyes of many who wished
-them well, and who looked for a great
-wedding, with masques, and dancing, and
-holiday arches, and public largesses of
-drink and money, such as had not been
-in mid-England for a generation. Wonderful
-as it seemed, the turmoil soon
-passed; and the two, never stirring from
-the very heart of the disturbance and
-opposition, somehow lived on, and were
-not parted, and slowly established a peace
-with their angry kindred. Malice itself
-could not hold out long against the Lord
-Richard's winning ways; and ever, as he
-grew older, he became sadder and gentler,
-and more to be honored by all men. But
-the Lady Eleanor lost the merry laughter
-she once had, and shrank, in great mistrust,
-even from her own family, so that
-it was plain at times that her reason was
-shaken. None on earth, meanwhile, save
-the lovers themselves, held the clew to
-their blighted lives. He never left her;
-he never travelled, nor went to court, as
-became his station, but sat patiently
-awaiting, at home, the crowning distress
-which he now knew must come upon
-them. Gossip broke out again, ere long,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>
-as much as it dared, in the village taverns;
-and there was a lifting of willing
-eyebrows among the gentry dwelling near,
-when, in the autumn, the incarnate disaster,
-the child in the Vandyck picture,
-was born. They rang the joy-bells from
-the church-tower, and the tenantry came
-under the eaves and cheered until faithful
-old Stephen threatened them with his
-blunderbuss, and drove them away. The
-Earl was sitting at his cards, with his bad
-foot on a stool before him, when the Lord
-Richard came in, with a silken parcel in
-his arms, followed only by a couple of
-his sniffing hounds. 'Well, what hast
-thou there, Dick?' cried the big blustering
-man, not unkindly. 'Father,' said
-the young stricken Lord Richard, in his
-impassioned fidelity, holding the parcel
-forth, 'I have my son.' And thereupon
-such a mortal paleness came upon
-him, and his knees shook so under him,
-for the deceit, that he scarce could stand.
-Seeing him quake, the old Earl, a rough
-jolly creature in his better moods, laughed
-long and loud.</p>
-
-<p>"And so it seemed to the only ones
-who sat tongue-tied amid the great rejoicing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>
-as if the divine wrath had indeed spent
-itself upon their house; the doom of the
-iniquity of the forefathers, as the Lord
-Richard would say to himself. What
-fresh and mistaken thinking there was to
-do, the miserable lad, being sane, did for
-both, believing that a curse was upon
-them, and that they must endure it, and
-accept the torture of that alien child's
-presence for some purpose hidden from
-human eyes. Their pact and horrible
-habit of silence weighed upon their hearts;
-and had not one constrained the other,
-she was very fain at times to confess, and
-go, if needs be, into disgrace for the lie.
-They would wander sometimes on the
-terrace, hand-in-hand, without speech,
-looking like brother and sister under a
-common ban. It seems impossible to
-understand this deliberate choice of a
-wrong attitude towards life, except in the
-light of that mysticism,</p>
-
-<blockquote>
-<p>'With shuddering, meek, submitted thought,'</p>
-</blockquote>
-
-<p>which ruled the Lord Richard's nature.
-Meanwhile the infant changed to a noisy,
-bounding rogue with black eyes, whom
-his young mother hated. They called him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>
-Ralph, a name not borne before by any
-of the Langham race. From his cradle,
-the poor waif clung to the Lord Richard,
-as to his only friend; and that saintly
-soul, as one might take sweetly a bitter
-penance, reared him in right ways, and
-encouraged or chided him at need, and
-won from him an awe and gratitude affecting
-to see. But the Lady Eleanor would
-never have him so much as touch her
-gown, which the maids about the manor
-laid to her troubled wits, and felt sorry
-for, without more ado. The old Earl,
-who liked the boy's health and pluck,
-had the portrait painted for the gallery;
-and even there you will notice that Ralph
-is far away from her, and at her husband's
-feet. Years of dereliction, therefore, these
-were to the Lord Richard, having no
-child of his own, and watching his intruding
-heir gaining daily some virtue and
-seemly knowledge, and coming, either by
-nature or by his careful breeding, fully to
-deserve those things to which he had no
-right before God and the king. And the
-boy grew, and was worthy to be loved, so
-brave he was, and so truth-speaking, and
-so tractable, despite his fits of temper.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>
-When he had passed his tenth birthday,
-he was sent to Meldom School; and his
-first absence lifted, as it were, the black
-load from his mother's spirit; and the beginning
-of her recovery, after all that she
-had endured, was from that day. There
-came soon to her and the Lord Richard
-an unexpected happiness; for the year
-1636 saw the birth of their own little
-Vivian. You may believe that his father,
-perplexed by the fresh aspect of the problem
-before him, tried to solve it by
-prayer and patience; the good heart,
-chastened ever with much sorrow, and
-melted away with thinking, thinking.
-His wife, free of his morbid scruples,
-cried out at last irresistibly for the vindication
-of her little one. But the Lord
-Richard was visited by a prophetic dream,
-and was wrung with misgivings, less like
-a man's than a woman's, in searching to
-divine his duty. For he foresaw, of a
-surety, in his sleep, what a poor vicious
-thing his son was to be. All the estates,
-being entailed, were to pass to the acknowledged
-eldest, passing, therefore, by
-unjust consent, in this case, to an interloper,
-to the detriment of the true inheritor;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>
-and to maintain Ralph's right
-would be a legal crime. On the other
-hand, the great power and responsibility
-of which he promised to make such fair
-use,&mdash;what if these should become, in the
-hands of that other to whom they would
-be intrusted, engines for havoc in the
-world, since then to disown Ralph were
-a moral crime? Lord Richard wrestled
-hard with his demon of doubt, to no
-avail. In good time, alas, as it was ordained,
-when Vivian was a bonny babe
-in his third summer, the unforeseen deliverance
-came. Ralph Langham was
-thrown from his pony at Long Meldom
-Cross, and brought home for dead. He
-never spoke a word, but passed to eternity
-with his fingers clasped tight on the
-Lord Richard's compassionate hand, and
-a great tear rolling down his round brown
-cheek. His short career had been like a
-cheerful cloud swimming in the sun, and
-itself casting damp and darkness on the
-hills below. The strangest thing of all
-was the ungoverned joy which came, at
-the news, upon the Lady Eleanor, a joy
-dreadful, at that time, to those about;
-but when it faded away, all the evil else<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>
-linked with it seemed to fade too, and
-very shortly she was wholly restored, and
-became her own comely, gracious self
-again, even as she was when first the
-beardless Lord Richard had told her his
-love. So that the liberty of those hunted
-young spirits was established in the
-grave of him whom heraldry yet names
-as their first-born. They laid him yonder,
-in Lovers' Saint Ruth's. Where else
-but there? as if in unuttered thanksgiving
-that mercy had reached them at last upon
-its fatal threshold. There is the tower,
-Holden, and the broken top mullion (is it
-not graceful?) of the great west window."</p>
-
-<p>We swung into the prettiest open space
-imaginable, close to a glassy lake, and
-found the fourteenth-century church, with
-its yews and leaning stones, before us.
-I went silently in at Nasmith's heels.
-The flooring was the perfect plush of
-English grass; the roof of the nave was
-living boughs. For a single huge ash-tree
-had rooted itself there generations
-ago, and grown much larger round than
-our four arms could span, and lifted
-its spread of leaves nearer heaven than
-the level of the walls. Ivy hung on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>
-the chancel arch, and many bright-colored
-wildflowers, whose seeds had
-lodged in the crevices and in the blank
-windows, filled the whole enclosure, bay
-after bay, with a riot of color and fragrance.
-Soft green daylight everywhere
-caressed the eye. The chancel roof, of
-exquisitely groined limestone, was still
-unfallen, though it had a rift or two; and
-on either side, where the monks' stalls
-must have stood a dozen deep, there
-were crumbling tombs, with effigies in
-alabaster. I went directly up one step to a
-plain small brass over against the piscina,
-and pushed the weeds aside. Nasmith
-knew I should not be able to decipher the
-inscription, on which the rain of three
-hundred summers had been sifted in.
-Leaning his head against one of the piers,
-a good distance down, he looked over at
-me, and began to recite, in an agreeable
-monotone: "'Here lieth Ralph, thirteen
-years old, heir while he lived to Orrinleigh
-and Gaynes; whom do thou, O
-Lord! receive among the innocent.</p>
-
-<blockquote>
-<p>
-For Time still tries<br />
-The truth from lies,<br />
-And God makes open what the world doth blind.</p>
-</blockquote>
-
-
-<p><span class="smcap">A. D.</span> 1639.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> Do you recognize the
-verse? Robert Greene's. The choice
-of it was so significant it must have been
-the Lord Richard's doing. You will
-notice that the epitaph is sensitively
-worded; it is pure fact, and nothing else;
-and it has, too, an affectionate sound
-which has always been a sort of satisfaction
-to me." "How immensely dramatic
-the upshot might have been if he
-had lived!" I said. "The poor little
-fellow, <i>infelix natu, felicior morte</i>." I was
-astonished to find a slight mist over my
-eyes. "Tell me of these others next
-him, Nasmith: a knight and his lady
-side by side, recumbent, and therefore
-pre-Reformation." Nasmith's slow, radiant,
-indulgent smile was upon me, as he
-moved forward from the light to where I
-stood. "No," he said. "Look at the
-armor and the fashion of the dress, not
-at the attitude, which is unusual, of
-course, for the Caroline period. Those
-are the blessed twain of whom I have
-been telling you. See!" He pointed
-to the discolored raised Latin text which
-ran around the wide slabs beneath. I
-traced it out. "Pray for the souls of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>
-Richard Esme Vivian Langham, Viscount
-Gaynes, and of Eleanor his adored
-wife, neither of them ripe in years, who
-together, in this venerable sanctuary,
-suffered calamity, and sought repose in
-Christ." There were no dates. I waited
-for Nasmith to go on. He did so, in
-that tone of grave personal interest which
-he reserves for these "old, unhappy, far-off
-things."</p>
-
-<p>"They had to lead very private lives,
-on account of their proscribed creed;
-a constraint which to them was not
-unwelcome. Their good works, however,
-were known over the whole countryside,
-which is loyal to their memory.
-She was the first to die, in 1640, contracting
-a fever, and fading gradually
-away. There were two young children
-to remember her and take pattern after
-her, (would that they had done so!)
-Vivian and Joan. When the civil wars
-began, the old Earl was feeble and near
-his end; and the Lord Richard, whose
-principles and natural sympathies were
-all for King Charles, joined the unanimous
-Catholic gentry, and sought with
-eagerness the only use that seemed left<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>
-to him. His bright beloved presence
-graced the camp but a little while, for in
-his thirty-seventh year he was killed at
-the second battle of Newbury, while carrying
-the royal standard. They brought
-him back to the old chapel where he
-wished to be buried, and where none of
-his house have been buried since. Both
-these figures were made under his own
-eye, when his wife's dust was laid below.
-Are they not nobly and delicately wrought,
-and full of rest? His hand holds hers;
-he had always said they should lie so,
-as his namesake king and Anne of
-Bohemia, long ago, lay in the Abbey at
-Westminster. The ruin has taken its
-traditional distinctive name of Lovers'
-Saint Ruth's from them. All my parish
-maids steal in on Hallowe'en to kiss these
-joined hands, and wish themselves good
-fortune, and hundreds of &mdash;&mdash;shire sweethearts
-have plighted their troth here,
-under the stars. It has always been a
-place of pilgrimage, though its full
-history is not even guessed at. Saint
-Ruth's-on-the-Hill, my friend, can never
-buy or borrow such a charm as this."</p>
-
-<p>As he paused, we heard the plaintive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>
-interruptive note of a pair of wood-doves
-in the ash. He looked at me again. "I
-forgot to say that they were content to
-die, my martyr hero and heroine of Orrinleigh,
-for they had won four years, at the
-end, of absolute unbroken bliss. They
-used to come down here every evening for
-a talk, or a hymn to Our Lady, arm in
-arm, and happy as children all the way.
-Their day of storms was brief, and it had
-a lovely sunset." "Ah, Nasmith," I
-exclaimed, like a sentimental girl, "I
-am glad of that. How did you know?"
-He drew his foot idly through the soft
-sward as he spoke. "I had the whole
-story in the Lord Richard's own hand.
-He wrote it out during the last night he
-spent at the manor, with his spurs and
-sword lying by him ready for the morrow:
-the whole tender, tragic story, with
-his curious mental struggles laid bare.
-He thought the truth due to his father,
-and to his dead stainless Eleanor, to clear
-her memory from erring rumor which
-had early got abroad. The manuscript
-was put away under a seal; and as soon as
-his son's will was opened, the Earl knew
-where to find it; I have seen it all scorched<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>
-and stained with the old man's tears.
-No eye, from his to mine, has read it
-since. You see, the next and fourth Earl,
-Vivian, grew up a graceless cynic reprobate
-in London, never visited his estates,
-and cared nothing for his lineage. His
-sister was little better. I ought to spare
-her and her second husband any vituperations,
-since they did me the courtesy of
-becoming my great-great-great-great-grandparents!
-Did I never tell you? The
-Langhams, bad enough in the beginning,
-have been a worse crew than before, since
-the Lord Richard's time. Almost 'every
-inch that is not fool is rogue,' as Dryden
-says of his giant. Francis, the ninth of
-the line, lately dead, and his Countess,
-being my very distant relatives, and impressed
-with my virtues, which were then
-being wasted on the desert air, offered me
-the benefice. The first thing I did, after
-setting Saint Ruth's in order, was to look
-about for materials for a history of the
-parish from a period before the Conquest.
-During the summer, they put a world of
-papers, grants, charters, registries, and
-so on, into my way, which had been
-heaped in some old chests in the tool-house.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>
-One of these papers was that
-letter, a pearl in sea-kelp. I took it
-promptly over to Orrinleigh. The Earl
-was in his hunting-coat, swearing, over
-his glasses, at some excellent Liberal
-news in his morning journal. 'Read
-this,' I said; 'it is one of your ancestral
-romances, and ought to be reverently preserved.'
-He laid it by. A few days
-afterwards, while I was gathering fruit
-and vines for a Harvest Sunday, he
-pulled it from his pocket, and threw it
-at me over the garden wall, remarking
-that as my reverend appetite was for
-musty parchments, he did not know but
-what I had best have this one, especially
-as his wife and niece, having glanced at
-it, would not give it house-room! So I
-had the keepership of that mournful
-secret of the Lord Richard's wonderful
-love and patience, which came near altering
-the local annals I was to write. It
-was like the unburied dead; it tormented
-me. Not one of those vulgarians to
-whom it really belonged was fit to touch
-it, much less understand it; and I did
-not wish to add it to any collection, mine
-or another's. I hesitated a good bit, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>
-then I stole off, on a chilly Martinmas
-eve, and piously burned it here in Lovers'
-Saint Ruth's, on this tomb, and scattered
-the ashes into the grass." A gust of
-wind came into the choir, and the clock
-half a mile away struck one. At the
-sound, we reached for our hats, which we
-had instinctively laid aside, and crossed
-the little transept to the door, Nasmith
-first, I following, as we had entered.
-Once more, as we left the porch, dark
-with ivy and weather-stains, we heard the
-wood-doves, over our heads in the nave,
-utter a slow musical moan, one to the
-other. "Their souls," I whispered suddenly.
-"Peace to all such, after pain,"
-said poetic Cyril. "<i>Amen</i>," I answered.
-We both smiled. How we two were
-enjoying our renewed society, back in a
-bygone England!</p>
-
-<p>Hardly had we gained the road, when
-a carriage rolled by, with a single figure
-on horseback clattering alongside. A
-black-bonneted girl in mourning, handsome,
-if furtive, under her parasol, and
-both her companions, the younger of
-whom sat beside her, saluted Nasmith in
-what I thought to be a cold, perfunctory<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>
-manner. I guessed something, for his
-honest cheek flushed. "I fear these are
-the great folk of Orrinleigh," I remarked.
-"The men have selfish, stupid faces,
-more's the pity." "Yes," he replied; "you
-have seen some of the Lord Richard's
-degenerate descendants. I once meant to
-give his manuscript to Audrey&mdash;to the
-young lady in the carriage. I hoped she
-might value it. But, as I said, I destroyed
-it instead. You are the only person
-to whom I ever repeated the tale, and
-almost in the original words. Go put it
-in a book, if you like, Holden; make
-what you can of it; develop and proportion
-it; I trust your handling." I
-thanked him. "No. Your chivalrous
-Cavalier is too complex a subject for
-me," was my frank reply; "I feel safer
-with a history than with a mystery." I
-was a hardened republican novelist even
-then, and his senior, and not blind to the
-"human document," neither of the seventeenth
-century, nor of the nineteenth.
-"Nasmith," I began cunningly, "you
-were in love with the Honorable Audrey,
-and she refused you. How fortunate for
-you! Yours was the neatest and most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>
-spiritual revenge I ever heard of: to keep
-from her what might have helped transform
-her woman's nature, stifled in an ill
-atmosphere,&mdash;the knowledge that she was
-of the blood of the saints,</p>
-
-<blockquote>
-<p><span class="indent2">'Tho' fallen on evil days,</span><br />
-On evil days tho' fallen, and evil tongues.'"</p>
-</blockquote>
-
-<p>He gave my hand a half-humorous pressure,
-his head turning neither to right nor
-to left, dear old Nasmith! He must be
-past forty now, and they tell me, moreover,
-that he is a Benedictine monk at
-Downside: he will care nothing what I
-say of him. And thus we climbed the
-balmy downs, back to our lunch at the
-vicarage, without another word.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">OUR LADY OF THE UNION.</h2></div>
-
-
-<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Surgeon and the Chaplain had
-been bidden to roast beef and mashed
-potatoes in the great tent; and the former,
-leaving its pleasant firelight, had come
-out through the night air a little before
-taps, to spread himself and his triumphs
-in the eyes of the officers' mess. The
-Surgeon was a widower in his early prime,
-and tenderly condescending to the known
-ways of women. He talked much of the
-two who in that camp represented all inscrutable
-womankind, Miss Cecily Carter
-and Mrs. Willoughby. They had
-come from New York on a visit, Braleton
-being just then in profound quiet.
-The Surgeon adored Miss Cecily, in
-which mood he was by no means alone;
-but he had his own opinion of her sister,
-the Colonel's wife. "The Sultan has
-hinges in him, and can unbend," he
-would say; "but the Sultana&mdash;O Jerusalem,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>
-my Happy Home!" He had
-also discovered that the train of trunks
-at the sutler's, objects of deep and incessant
-objurgation, were hall-marked "A.
-W.," and that Miss Cecily came to the
-war with one hand-bag. His auditors sat
-long astride their chairs, each in his hood
-of good government tobacco-smoke. The
-Adjutant's silver-coated hound was asleep
-on the boards, still as a little mountain-tarn
-among thunder-clouds. The gusts
-of genial mirth were suddenly interrupted
-from without by the even voice of the
-orderly: "Sergeant Blanchard is wanted at
-the Colonel's quarters."</p>
-
-<p>A young man playing chess in the
-corner arose at once, and followed. All
-along the company streets, the lamp-light
-streamed through the chinks in the tents;
-charming tenors and basses, at the far
-end, were laying them down and deeing
-for Annie Laurie; and from the long sheds
-nigh, in the grove, came the subdued
-pawing and tossing of the horses. Robert
-Blanchard saluted, and stood outside in
-the dark, for the Colonel was in his doorway.
-"They have sent another commission
-for you," he said shortly. "You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>
-deserve it; your behavior has been admirable,
-a source of immense pride to me,
-and to all my men." The Sergeant looked
-at him with a visible gladness. "I thank
-you. You know I prefer not to be promoted."
-"I have humored you no fewer
-than three times before," resumed the
-Colonel, in an altered tone; "I can't do
-it always. You are known; the General
-has complimented you. The rise of a
-man of your stamp can't be prevented,
-even by himself. You are meant, if you
-live, to move rapidly, and go high. This
-second-lieutenantship is the lowest step;
-mount it, in Heaven's name, and don't
-maunder."</p>
-
-<p>The other hesitated, silent. Then he
-said: "May I have my condition, if I
-accept,&mdash;may I remain color-bearer?" "I
-can promise nothing of the kind. I fear
-it would be unusual, to say the least; it
-has no precedent in any service that I
-ever heard of. Don't ask me that again."
-Blanchard, in sober fashion, brought
-his hand to his cap. "Good-evening,
-Colonel." The superior officer was exasperated.
-"Bob," he exclaimed discursively,
-"you're a fool. God bless you!"</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>The drums began, quick and light; it
-was nine o'clock. The Sergeant went
-back, cheerful as Cincinnatus refusing
-empery. Before he confided himself to
-his blanket, lumped on boughs, he made
-sure that a fold of old bunting on a
-provisionary stick was slanted securely
-against the canvas; for he had a sentimental
-passion for the flag. When it
-was hauled down at sunset, it went into
-his hands until daybreak. He had borne
-it in the van since his first bloody day at
-Little Bethel; it had been riddled, stained,
-smoke-blackened, snapped from its support;
-but he had never dropped it, not
-when a minie-ball fizzed through his
-shoulder, not when, fresh from the hospital,
-he had fallen face downward from
-his dying horse, in Beauregard's plunging
-fire of shell. In this lad of twenty-two
-there burned a formal loyalty so
-intense, so rooted in every fibre of his
-grave character, that his comrades, for
-whom military routine had lost much of
-its glamour, loved him for it, envied him,
-and consistently nagged the life out of
-him with the nickname of Our Colored
-Brother, and other nicknames based on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>
-other puns more or less felicitous. Because
-in New York, they had several dear
-friends in common, the Colonel, on the
-morning of the ladies' arrival at Braleton,
-had asked him to lunch with them.
-"My Sergeant, Adela," so James Willoughby,
-in his eagles, presented him to
-the wife of his bosom, "my Sergeant;
-and such a Sergeant!" For he read in
-her tacticianary social eye that a Sergeant
-was a minnow indeed for a Colonel's
-friend and guest, even if he were a gentleman,
-a cousin of the Windhursts, and
-the hero of his corps. And she wondered
-at him the more that he should be
-a mere color-bearer; a spirited able-bodied
-creature two years in the army, with
-nothing to show for it! He had no explanation
-to give her, but he had an unaccountable
-hunger, from the first, to
-confide his secret to Cecily. He had
-seen her from a distance, and his heart
-stood still there in the grass; when he
-came nearer, it gave him, for a certain
-reason, the veriest wrench in all his life,
-such as True Thomas may have felt
-when the sweet yet awful call came to
-him at last in the market-place, that it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>
-was time to say good-bye to earth, and
-go back to fairyland; to leave for the
-things which can never be the things
-that are. He often found her sewing
-on a silken tri-color, and working its
-correct number of stars in a pattern.
-She had begun it in her father's house,
-for her brother-in-law's regiment, and
-none too soon, for the flag in use was
-aging fast. Robert Blanchard never saw
-her head bent over that bright glory, filling
-her lap and falling around her feet,
-without a tightening of the throat. And
-when she nodded to him going by, with
-that candid, affectionate grace which never
-changed, it reminded him inevitably of
-something which made him happy and
-unhappy. He could not remember, he
-said to himself, when he had not loved
-her, and yet they had never met until this
-Virginian winter of 1863.</p>
-
-<p>Cecily had taken up her abode in a wee
-log-house built for her as an ell from the
-Colonel's tent, delighting much in its frugalities
-and small hardships. She was becoming
-attached to the sights and sounds
-of camp-life: the tags and tassels, the
-shining accoutrements, and the endless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>
-scouring and brushing thereof; the rosy
-drummer-boy; the company drills in the
-rain; the hollow pyramids of the stacked
-short bayonets; the muddy wells on the
-bluish and reddish lowlands; the loud sing-song
-of the little bearded Corporal interruptedly
-reading <i>David Copperfield</i> to a
-ring of enraptured privates; the welcome
-drone of the cook announcing his menu;
-the arrival of despatches, with the thundering
-and jingling of the cavalry heard a mile
-away; even the occasional alarms. The
-long inactions under McClellan, hateful
-to her mettlesome brother-in-law and
-to his men, proved pleasant enough to
-Cecily; she never lacked entertainment.
-While Adela was at her accurate toilets,
-and the Colonel, a severe disciplinarian,
-busy with his troops, she, active and
-curiously adventurous, walked or rode
-about alone.</p>
-
-<p>The nine-hundred-acred Brale house
-topped the hill not far away; the owner,
-a fine old planter, lived there with the
-survivors of his family. Six months
-before, an infantry regiment had bivouacked
-on the place. A lieutenant,
-sent on the reasonable suspicion that a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>
-number of escaped Confederates were harbored
-on the premises, clattered up, with
-an escort, to demand them. The eldest
-son, with true sullen Confederate pluck,
-refused him admission. After no long
-parley, the infantry lieutenant, losing control
-of himself, shot him dead: a proceeding,
-which, when it came to the ears
-of the authorities, cost the bully his commission.
-The two other sons, Julian and
-Stephen, were then in the Southern army;
-the younger had since perished from fever.
-To this doomed and outraged household,
-shut in from the world, hopelessly embittered
-against the Government in whose
-name murder and devastation stalked,
-Colonel Willoughby appeared as a new
-and strange being. He made it his business
-to see that there were no trespassings,
-and that the Brales lived not only
-in peace, but in comfort. He rode out
-repeatedly to the picket-lines, where a
-goodly quantity of commissary supplies,
-spirits, flour, tobacco, tea, and coffee, and
-divers other necessaries difficult to obtain,
-were handed over to the slaves in
-exchange for the chickens, milk, and eggs.
-On several occasions, he had ridden as far<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>
-as the door, once to give the married
-daughter her pass through the lines; once
-to bring her little girl, who was ill, some
-delicacies sent in a hamper from his own
-home. These things broke the proud
-Brale hearts. They barely thanked him;
-his Federal uniform was like a dagger in
-their eyes. But a while ago, when they
-heard that his wife and his sister were
-coming to Braleton from the north, the
-stately old squire had sent him a royal
-gift, with a short letter in the style of the
-last century. The gift was Molly, the
-beautiful black, famous all over the country
-for her strength and speed; and on
-her back was a saddle of magnificent
-workmanship, with a movable pommel,
-which might be adjusted to suit the ladies.
-While these were in camp, therefore, the
-Colonel rode Messenger, his stocky sorrel,
-and Adela or Cecily sat majestically
-enthroned upon the majestic Molly. The
-former was a horsewoman of experience,
-erect, neat, orthodox, approved of connoisseurs
-everywhere. But the regiment
-was in this, as in other things, all for the
-favorite; and when she came in sight,
-(with the dare-devil mare going it, six leaps<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>
-to a mile,) lying flat forward, like her own
-cavalrymen, with breathless, laughing face,
-and hair shaken loose along Molly's mane
-like the sun on a torrent,&mdash;such a cheer
-as would go up from the distracted Eleventh!
-Cecily and Molly, in the tingling
-pine-odorous Braleton air, made a familiar
-and joyful spectacle.</p>
-
-<p>South from the mansion lay an Episcopal
-chapel, now dismantled, with a squat,
-broad, mossy roof pulled down over its
-eaves like a garden-hat; and around it
-spread the small old churchyard, with its
-stones neck-deep in freshening grass and
-clover. From this point there was a most
-lovely view over the melancholy landscape,
-silvered midway with a winding
-stream. Hither Cecily loved to climb,
-tying Molly in the copse below, to lie
-upon the shaded escutcheoned tomb of
-one Reginald Brale, "borne in Salop in
-olde Ingland," and to muse long and
-happily, forgetful of battles, on</p>
-
-<blockquote>
-<p>"The great good limpid world, so still, so still!"</p>
-</blockquote>
-
-<p>She and Robert Blanchard had had
-much constant companionship; it was
-natural that these musings should turn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>
-much, and indeed more and more, upon
-him. Surely, he was like no one else;
-and his presence gave Cecily a sense of
-infinite rest. She, too, had her obedient
-energies and controlled fervors. A great
-crisis like this, holding great issues,
-brought the two so sensitive to it very
-near together. She felt under her, even
-as he did, the tide-wave of patriotic emotion,
-sweeping the more generous spirits
-from all our cities out upon its fatal
-crest. She had seen the companies marching
-to the front through awe-stricken
-crowds, watched for the bulletins, worked
-for the hospitals, heard the triumphal
-never-to-be-forgotten eloquence and music
-sacred to the returning dead at home, and
-felt to the full the heartache and enthusiasm
-of all the early war. These things
-had formed her, pervaded her, projected
-her out of herself, and brought her,
-lingeringly a child, into thought and
-womanhood. Before she knew herself
-for an abolitionist, the day of Sumter
-swept over her like a flood, and diverted
-all the little idle streams of her being.
-Her brothers found her against the old
-tree in the garden, the newspaper in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>
-hand, like one entranced; and one of
-them, soon to devote his youth to the
-cause of Michael against Lucifer, forbade
-her being teased to account for her
-mood. Unlike Robert, Cecily came of a
-soldier race, and from swords drawn, each
-in its generation, at Naseby, at Brandywine,
-at Monterey. That fortune seemed
-good to her which had led her to Virginia,
-a ground balancing in the scales
-of fate, and rich already with hallowed
-graves. To the living men about her,
-she was as march-music never out of their
-ears, to hold them to their vows. Subdued
-from common cares, Cecily was in
-the current of the national peril, inspiring
-and inspired, and open to every
-warmth and chill of it as if it were indeed
-her own.</p>
-
-<p>She was on the hills, reading, in
-balmy February weather, when she became
-aware of a low whinny at her ear.
-The Brale paddocks were on the other
-side of the fence. A young colt was
-there, startled and timid, stretching towards
-her; then another came as near,
-and another, and the heads of the older
-horses, confiding, appealing, crowded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>
-over these. She patted their tremulous
-nostrils, divining instantly that something
-had occurred to alarm them. She raised
-herself from Reginald Brale's venerable
-slab, and listened; the sharp ping! ping!
-of blank cartridges struck the oak-leaves
-on her left. Standing, and peering down
-the steeper side of the incline, she saw
-the familiar moving glitter of gold braid,
-far below; and, stripping a bough, and
-knotting her handkerchief, she made a
-signal of distress, and waved it vigorously.
-The shout that followed told her
-that danger was over, both for the gentle
-intelligent creatures in the enclosure, and
-for her; the reports ceased. A moment
-after, a man sprang over the churchyard
-wall from the road. It was the Sergeant,
-more excited than he dared show.</p>
-
-<p>"Miss Carter!" His heart-thuds made
-it hard for him to be punctilious. "Are
-you hurt? Idiots that we were to choose
-this place! We might have known. Tell
-me you're not hurt, Miss Carter." "I
-am not hurt at all," she answered gayly,
-"nor even frightened. It was these dear
-four-legged 'rebs' who were frightened."
-She slipped her book in her pocket, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>
-took up her gloves and the dainty whip
-which Molly had never felt, save when it
-flicked a fly from her ear. "You are a
-brave soul!" the Sergeant said. Cecily
-took refuge in the significant flippancy of
-gamins: "You're another!" which was so
-apposite that they both laughed. As they
-descended the rough foot-path, the Sergeant
-longed to offer his arm; but he knew
-her stoicisms, her natural physical <i>savoir-faire</i>,
-and he chivalrously refrained. How
-nimble and graceful, how fawn-like she
-was! He noted the wide lace collar and
-the brooch at her chin; the sober Gordon
-plaid gown, not too long; the firm little
-wrist; the beautiful hair parted, and
-looped low.</p>
-
-<p>"What were you doing just now?"</p>
-
-<p>"A party of us were enjoying ourselves,
-shooting."</p>
-
-<p>"Birds?" in a cold, regretful tone.</p>
-
-<p>"Birds! No. A soldier, unless he is
-spoiling with garrison idleness, won't waste
-his genius for killing on innocent birds
-and their like. Besides, the artillery fellows
-over yonder have scared them away
-from the whole neighborhood. We were
-target-shooting with pistols. Oh, if you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>
-knew the hot coals and icicles I had to
-swallow when I recognized you up there!"
-He looked ahead, and saw with joy that
-his companions had departed. "Here is
-Molly, and my bay is behind the rock.
-May I ride home with you?" He helped
-her to mount, and sprang into his own
-saddle. The lonely, lovely earth and sky
-were theirs together; they went slowly,
-slowly down to the ford. Molly was
-thirsty, or else perverse; for she paused,
-lowered her aristocratic little head, and
-began to drink. Presently Saladin, the
-bay, standing by her on the brink, did
-the same; and the two riders sat, perforce,
-conscious of their like silent sympathy
-and society. An impulse rushed on each
-to lean over towards the other also, to
-lay cheek to happy cheek over the shallow
-water, in their youth, in the sun.
-The Sergeant stiffened himself with an
-effort.</p>
-
-<p>"Although it is a holiday," he said,
-scanning the distance, "and although
-there's no end of jollity afoot, greased
-poles, football, leap-frog, hurdle-races,
-and all that&mdash;and did you know that
-Mrs. Willoughby, escorted by the Colonel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>
-and the Adjutant, had gone for the day?
-There are to be charming diversions at
-the infantry camp, and a ball to wind
-up with. You were asked, too, I hear;
-but you missed it, straying off to your
-hermitage."</p>
-
-<p>"I am glad I did! Please finish your
-sentence."</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, I forgot. I was going to add
-that this sort of relaxation, just now,
-might be risky, when Old Glory and I
-may be ordered out before morning to
-waltz to fife-music!"</p>
-
-<p>"A battle? Do you truly think it
-likely?"</p>
-
-<p>"I half believe it. I don't mind telling
-you I have a premonition of it, involving
-another premonition regarding
-myself. But what of it? Our old friend
-Cicero, I think it was, used to say that
-we are born not for ourselves, but for the
-Republic." He laughed, as if he had
-said a jocund thing. He had not meant
-then to test her feeling for him; but he
-had allies in the hour and its emotion.
-Cecily rejoiced in his cheerful
-acceptances, and remembered her impersonal
-pride in the circumstances of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>
-enlistment, of which she had heard on all
-sides at home. Her voice fell, unawares,
-into its shy inflections, its little wild spontaneous
-minors, as she said, seeing the
-horses rear their heads: "Will you please
-tell me, Sergeant Blanchard, how you
-came to join the army? All that I know
-is that you were abroad, and that you
-gave up your pleasure, and came back."</p>
-
-<p>He began quietly, as they passed the
-stream and made for higher ground:</p>
-
-<p>"It is quite a story. I was off on
-a tour through India and Egypt, with
-my college chum, my dear old Arthur
-Hughes. Neither of us had any notion
-of returning home, and we were in the
-middle of the best time two fellows ever
-had on this earth, when I had a queer
-sort of warning. We were both curled
-up on the window-sill of my room, in
-our hotel at Cairo, one hot night, sleepless,
-and enjoying a smoke. Suddenly,
-above the street, among the shadows
-and spangled points of all those near
-domes and pinnacles, I saw what I
-thought was our national flag, hanging,
-hardly stirring. It seemed to spring up
-out of nothing, in its familiar, varied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>
-colors, to startle my eye. Then, in a
-moment, I perceived that it was no flag,
-but a living spirit, a genius, a guardian
-angel, whatever you like to call it,
-which bore the oddest resemblance to
-one. There before me was the dreamiest
-figure; a tall beautiful young woman in
-a helmet, the moon shining on the little
-spike of it. A long blue veil, bluer than
-the atmosphere, covered her face, and was
-blown about her shoulders, not so heavy
-of texture but that the jewels in her
-flowing hair flashed through it with wonderful
-lustres; and her garment fell away
-in long alternate whites and reds, like the
-liquid bars we sometimes see flushing
-and paling in our own sky in the north,
-when the aurora borealis comes in the
-March evenings. There she floated many
-minutes before fading away; and once
-she raised her veil and beckoned, and her
-eyes dwelt on me so imploringly that they
-have become more real to me than anything
-else in my life. I tell you it shook
-my heart.... Miss Carter, if you will
-allow me, I must say that the vision was
-like, was very like,"&mdash;the Sergeant
-choked a little,&mdash;"like you. When I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>
-first saw you, I was so startled, it gave
-me, well, almost a swoon. That is a
-novel word, and ludicrous, perhaps, but
-I can use no other. At any rate, the resemblance
-has drawn me towards you, I
-can't say how strongly or how much.
-Please forgive me." For Cecily's wild-rose
-face was warm.</p>
-
-<p>"I had forgotten all about Arthur.
-But when I turned to clutch him in my
-excitement, my first glance told me that
-he had not seen the phantom, and that
-he would deride my faith in it. So I
-tried to laugh off my sudden attack of
-second-sight; but it was of no use. I
-dropped into silence when it was my turn
-to speak, and abandoning presently the
-effort to seem indifferent, I parted from
-him, and went to bed.</p>
-
-<p>"It was the only ghostly thing that
-had ever happened to me, and it impressed
-me tremendously. For my part,
-I could get no rest by day or night; that
-influence was over me like a bad star. I
-racked my brain to explain it by natural
-agencies, and it only set me thinking the
-more of our blessed country being in some
-terrible trouble. When I came to that, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>
-jumped up and started for the bath, to
-cool off, and then changed my mind, and
-struck first for the ticket-office. Whom
-should I knock into on the way but old
-Arthur in his fez, fierce as a lion. 'Bob,'
-he said, dragging me into a booth, 'it's
-war, war! President Lincoln is calling
-for men, and I'm going home to spite
-the devil.' 'There's no choice. I am
-going home anyhow,' I said. 'What
-news is there?'</p>
-
-<p>"The little which had travelled that far,
-I heard from him. Sumter was being
-fired upon, on the 11th of April, 1861,
-when I saw Our Lady of the Union. I
-call her that; but I never spoke of her
-to Arthur, or to any one. Before June
-set in we arrived in New York, and we
-volunteered. Arthur has distinguished
-himself right and left. He is in Andersonville
-now, dear fellow. I should hate
-to end there."</p>
-
-<p>"A martyr is a martyr; the place matters
-nothing," the girl replied.</p>
-
-<p>"I know," he said; "I did not mean
-to speak lightly; but I am one of those
-who cannot always avoid it when they
-feel much."</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>The Sergeant's cheeks were burning
-too, and he quickened his pace. Cecily
-did not speak, following the bounding
-bay. But a loneliness which she could
-not define came upon her; a resentment
-of the sacred ideal which could
-yet be to her friend his divinity, his
-beauty, his bride, in a world from which
-she was shut out as an irrelevance. And
-almost as soon, she questioned herself
-whether because of a tie dearer than
-the human, this golden-hearted Robert
-must lose, she in him must lose&mdash;what?
-For answer, the noble and foolish tears
-welled up from the depths, and fell into
-the folds across her knee. Her companion
-drew his own rein, and laid his
-hand upon Molly's.</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, why do you cry? I can't bear
-it. What have I done?"</p>
-
-<p>"Nothing."</p>
-
-<p>"I did not intend to disturb you, to
-make you care about it, or pity me; I
-am much happier since that happened.
-Could it be&mdash;oh, could it be&mdash;" He
-gazed a moment upon her, absorbedly
-and absorbingly, and she turned away.
-For who can make conscious preparation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>
-for the imminent? Sudden ever is the
-finger of Death, to the watchers; sudden
-also is Love.</p>
-
-<p>They were under the shade of some
-giant pines. The young man vaulted
-lightly to the ground, close to Molly's
-satin stirrupless flank, his hands clasped,
-his head thrown back, fired with adoring
-hope. When Cecily inclined towards
-him again, he saw in her (or was it his
-bewitched fancy?) the remote, incredible
-radiance of his old day-dream. The great
-flush rolled responsive to his own clear
-brow. He shook himself free, and found
-his voice. "Cecily," he said simply, "I
-love you; you must know that I love
-you. Such a love has no beginning and
-no end. You understand that and me.
-Of myself I have nothing to say. You
-have seen me only among Willoughby's
-recruits; but I never wished to be elsewhere.
-Judge of me, as we two are, now
-and here. Can you, do you think you
-could be my wife, by and by? Tell
-me. Tell me!" Then Cecily, simple
-too, in the same tremor of exaltation,
-put out her right hand. He caught at it
-with both his own, and buried his face<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>
-there. His wide hat had fallen; the
-warm light was on his clustering hair.
-With a sweet instinct like motherliness,
-his maid, bending over, kissed it
-in benediction.</p>
-
-<p>It was two o'clock when they crossed
-the ford, and the late afternoon found
-them still pacing on their roadless way,
-like the lost enchanted knight and lady
-of the Black Forest. They were less
-than a mile from Braleton, on the rocks,
-in sight of the tents, when they unsaddled
-and tethered the horses, and made
-the last halt. "Dearest," the Sergeant
-had said, lying at her feet, his elbow in
-the grass, "dedicate my sword." Raising
-himself, he made a motion as if
-drawing it, and held it towards her and
-the sunset; Cecily, in the same pretty
-pantomime, touched her lips to the viewless
-blade, priestess of a new investiture.
-"One thing we both love better than ourselves;
-is it not so?" She was not
-jealous now. "These United States,
-right or wrong!"</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, no!" The soldier sheathed his
-sacred weapon. "Say justice, liberty, the
-rights of man; the things our United<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>
-States ought to stand for." Then the
-light heart in him laughed; and Concrete
-and Abstract blessed each other. Happy
-and silent, they lingered on the brow of
-the pine copse; a breeze sprang up; vast
-and gorgeous sky-colors spread and deepened.
-The Sergeant's uplifted face was
-fixed upon his betrothed. She seemed to
-dissolve away before him, or before him,
-rather, to be vivified and set free. Slowly
-between her and him, transubstantiating
-her touching beauty, gathered a solemn,
-changeful, wavering cloud-splendor of
-ivory, rose, and sapphire, gathered out
-of the land of myths into recognized and
-unforgotten fact. For a quarter of an
-hour he endured that mystical glory;
-then his head dropped forward on her
-knees. A thing seen was yet upon him:
-once more Our Lady of the Union, but
-with a smile as if of one assured at last
-of ransom, and ineffably content. When
-Cecily touched him, wondering, he shuddered,
-and brushed an imagined film
-from his eyes. She sat there, innocent
-of any magic, unaware in what potter's
-hand her spirit was so much fine clay.</p>
-
-<p>From the depths of the vale the croak<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>
-of frogs arose, faint here and shriller there,
-then long-drawn and general: ever a
-most mournful, homesick, and foreboding
-sound to our armies in the South. The
-distant camp seemed ominously quiet;
-but on the outskirts of it was a dissolving
-shadow, a moving dark clot, there,
-a moment back, between them and the
-scarce-fluttering flag, and still there, now
-that the flag was hauled down, its bright
-hues effaced against the more vivid evening
-air. Presently the group of men, for
-such it was, scattered. Cecily's keen sight
-read what was written afar; the familiar
-figure of the one-armed brisk Lieutenant-Colonel
-in the saddle coming towards the
-hill, with others following on the gallop
-behind.</p>
-
-<p>"You are needed," she said without
-preamble; "you must go to them."
-With emphasis and authority, slight and
-quick, yet irrevocable, she spoke. He
-turned about, and sprang to his feet from
-his enchantment at her side; for the
-divine day, the Sergeant's field-day, was
-over. "Is this the way of women, or
-only your way? You send me from you
-on a supposition, a scruple," he answered,
-plaintively.</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>"Go." She repeated it softly, and with
-closed eyes, lest she should look upon
-her own heart-break. "It is unnecessary,
-as you know," he replied; "but
-if you make it a point of honor, I am
-glad to obey." He held out his hands,
-and she took them, cherishing, steadfast,
-as in a pact. Her voice and step were
-strangely unsteady; they held up the
-mirror, as it were, to his. What was
-there in a commonplace incident to move
-them so to the depth? In a passionate
-presentiment, he drew her closer to him.
-"Are we to be given to each other only
-that we may be severed, and suffer the
-more? What if the end should be now?
-Cecily!"</p>
-
-<p>But the young heroic mettle rose to
-meet his. "Beloved, you are mine and
-not mine. You are consecrated for the
-term of the war; so am I. I will always
-give you up to your task. Perhaps you
-may measure by that whether I love
-you." He looked down with a grateful
-sigh on her who so mysteriously held him
-to his sacrifice, and shared it, and through
-her and in her, on the old, old fate which
-he knew now was driving him to the cliff.</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>"If there is to be a fight, I want your
-flag, the flag you made!" he whispered,
-grasping at anything to hide this rending
-in him of the spirit from the flesh. "However,
-whenever I fall, I want to be buried
-in it. Is it done? May I take it
-for mine, before it is presented to the
-regiment?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yes. You shall carry my colors here
-and in heaven. I will pray for my
-knight."</p>
-
-<p>He kissed her once, twice, for the betrothal,
-and yet again for the farewell.</p>
-
-<p>He took Molly, the fresher animal of
-the two, and spurred to the open ground
-below, breaking out from the wood-path,
-ready for any duty, on time. He looked
-illumined, detached, transfigured: a Saint
-Michael to be remembered after by his
-companions in the moral crises of their
-lives. The Lieutenant-Colonel drew rein,
-relieved. "I was wishing for you, of all
-people," he said; "I feared you were far
-away. There has been an alarm; we must
-sleep under arms. The Colonel and most
-of the officers have not returned. I will
-go back now. Take these six with you,
-and cross the railway tracks to Palmer's.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>
-It is a rough road, and a long journey;
-but report as soon as you can." The Sergeant
-started with his bayoneted cavalcade
-in a dash westward. Cecily, apprehensive
-of something unusual, saw the
-slow-rising dust, and, ahead of it, the
-erect leader, scaling the horizon, and vanishing
-into the yet glowing sky. A pang
-unutterable tore her; but, uttered, it
-would have been none other than <i>Amen</i>.</p>
-
-<p>Poor Saladin was tired enough, having
-been out all day long; and Cecily led
-him carefully to the plain. Every clapping
-leaf, every crackling twig underfoot,
-struck a chill into her bosom, on the over-shadowing
-hill-slopes. She had played
-too brave a part under her mental turmoil,
-and in the presence of her lover,
-himself too easily enamoured of death. A
-spell greater than any he had felt was over
-her, breathing a blackness between her
-and the light. Now her ample courage
-was fast giving out. She saw a face in
-the thicket, and was barely able to nerve
-herself not to scream. A man, in a
-military dress she did not know, came
-forward, and raised his cap. It was
-Major Julian Brale, free at last to do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>
-some scouting over his ancestral acres,
-alone, and with hot revenges in his heart.
-He was sorry for her, and angry at her
-discovery. He apologized briefly, and
-helped her to mount, not without concern,
-but with a scornful coldness of manner
-which he could not help. When she
-had gone, he returned to the bushes,
-cursing the Eleventh; for he had recognized
-the saddle on the bay. The two
-forces were on the brink of battle; but he
-was not an expert sharp-shooter for nothing,
-and if he could but get sight of that
-thief, that coward, that hell-born villain
-who had taken his old father's precious
-Molly from him&mdash; A moonbeam straggled
-in where he bent over, priming his
-rifle, and he moved from it into the dark.</p>
-
-<p>Dinnerless, supperless, much too overwrought
-to go to bed, Cecily Carter sat
-in the Colonel's empty tent. For company,
-she had shaken out her great silken
-banner over the lounge, where the firelight,
-falling on it, seemed to praise its
-divine destroying loveliness with a poet's
-Pentecostal tongue. Once she murmured
-prayerfully: "Dear Robert, dear Robert."
-Something not herself had bade him go,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>
-and he was gone; there was all of herself
-now in these fears. The little parting
-from him which she was enduring became
-magnified and abiding, so that she looked
-upon him slain, and thought with a sort
-of joyous satisfaction how under the buttons
-of his old blue jacket, where nobody,
-not even his mother, knew of them, were
-rose-leaves all about the open wound next
-his heart; rose-leaves pressed most fervently,
-one by one, to her lips, and laid
-there. Other caress she could not give
-him; though she was his, he was the Republic's,
-for ever and ever. Again, she
-saw him carried on a howitzer to a green
-lonely place. A stone reared itself before
-her, and she read upon it an odd
-inscription: <i>If ye seek the summit of true
-honor, hasten with all speed into that heavenly
-country.</i> She started up. Was her
-brain indeed giving way? Who had
-spoken? Where had she heard those
-words? How piercing a beauty they
-had! Were they in the Church ritual?
-What did they mean? Why should
-they hound her from her rest?</p>
-
-<p>The Colonel's little ormolu clock struck
-eleven. Almost on the stroke, the delayed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>
-revellers entered. Adela could not
-fail to notice her sister's nervousness, but
-attributed it to anxiety for herself. The
-Sultana of the Surgeon's christening had
-been prodigally feasted and flattered;
-she had come home with an armful of
-hothouse flowers, effulgent with gratification,
-and in a talking mood. The
-Colonel's boy brought in the lamps.
-When the Colonel himself followed,
-grown grim with the sudden tension and
-commotion about, his remark was to the
-point. "I'm afraid you women will have
-to get out of camp, quick. I smell powder.
-It is likely to be damned disagreeable."
-His handsome, worldly wife, coming, butterfly-like,
-in yellow, out of her dark
-wrappings, fixed him with her censorious
-eye. "James Willoughby! You have
-been drinking." He was wont, on such
-occasions, to cast a comical appealing
-glance at Cecily, of whom he was fond.
-She did not smile in return, and her pallor
-touched him; so that he went over to
-her at once. "What's the matter, child?"
-he asked, with affectionate anxiety. But
-an approaching clang and clatter, and the
-challenge of the sentry without, took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>
-from him what he meant to say; he left
-Cecily to her sister, and hurried into the
-air. His going added to her trouble; and
-yet she would have had no solace in keeping
-a friend near. Oh, the stress and
-strain of dull daily incident upon that inner
-universe, frangible as a bubble, where
-she and Robert had begun to live!&mdash;she
-and Robert, and the Love of Country
-alone, for between this and them must be
-union everlasting. Oh, the tyranny of all
-that is, laid upon him, faithful in his place;
-upon her, faithful in hers; the speechless
-dealings of lonely lovers with the Lone!</p>
-
-<p>Private Cobbe, being foremost, saluted
-breathlessly: "Colonel, the pickets are
-being driven in; the enemy is advancing."
-The gallant fellow pressed his
-hand to his thigh; he was wounded, and
-he was soldier enough to feel that wound
-an ignominy which had been received
-obscurely, and elsewhere than on the field.
-Immediately, all along the tents, arose
-the multitudinous yet unconfused cries of
-"Form!" and "Fall in!" from the
-captains; the flapping guidons were borne
-hither and thither to their places, and the
-thousand horses, wheeling on their dancing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>
-hoofs by the gleam of lantern and
-torch under the watery moon, began to
-make huge, fantastic shadows along the
-old parade-ground. The Colonel, drawing
-on his gauntlets, and still afoot, noticed
-for the first time that Cobbe and McGrath
-held between them, each with an arm
-around him, an officer. For an instant,
-in the imperfect light, he thought him
-some prisoner, until he recognized, in a
-flash, Molly with her great liquid, excited
-eyes, Molly with her even mane hanging
-wet and limp, confronting him. Private
-McGrath had held in until now. He
-blurted: "I'm afraid he's gone, sir."
-The Colonel took a step forward, as if it
-were into eternity. The Surgeon, standing
-by, echoed after him: "My God!"</p>
-
-<p>They lifted their friend down together,
-and carried him in, and laid him with
-extreme gentleness where by chance the
-new flag, a kingly winding-sheet, was
-above him and under. The Surgeon
-bent very low for a while over the lounge.
-The many in the tent, used to calamity
-less great than the loss of their best, held
-their breath; the Adjutant's dog, close to
-his master's legs, lifted his long gray<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>
-throat and crooned softly and mournfully,
-as the band outside, far down the disparting
-columns, broke into a loud, thrilling
-strain, impatient for victory. The Sergeant
-was dead, with a ball in his breast.
-No one moved until Cecily groaned and
-dropped.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">AN EVENT ON THE RIVER.</h2></div>
-
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Morning</span> lay over Portsmouth and
-her great stretches of opaline sea. The
-little islands, north to the Maine shore,
-and east to the harbor-buoys, were ablaze
-with red and yellow bushes to the water-brink;
-the low-masted gunlows were
-beating out like a flock of dingy gulls;
-and from afar, pleasantly, musically,
-sounded the bugle at the Navy Yard.
-The Honorable Langdon Openshaw,
-standing among ruinous warehouses and
-wharves, built by the Sheafes in the hour
-of their commercial glory under the second
-George, looked down upon the clear
-Piscataqua at full flood, breathing between
-its day-long, Samson-like tugs at
-the yet enduring piers. It was a lonely
-spot; the wind had a way there, sometimes,
-of waking momentary, half-imagined
-odors, the ghosts of the cargoes
-of wines and spices in the prodigal past.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>
-His own solitude, the washing tide, the
-one towering linden yonder, the gambrel
-roofs and ancient gardens, the felt neighborhood
-of the dear wild little graveyard
-where his forbears slept, steeped his heart
-in overwhelming melancholy. He had
-already passed a week at the Rockingham.
-It was a strange date to choose, out of all
-his free and prosperous life, for a first
-visit since childhood to the fair old New
-England borough where he was born. A
-sort of morbid home-sickness had driven
-him back now, in his distresses, to her
-knee. For the Honorable Langdon
-Openshaw, innocent of the astounding
-crime with which he was charged, was out
-on bail.</p>
-
-<p>The accusation was the most inexplicable
-of things. His chief characteristic
-had been an endearing gentleness, which
-brought him the popular favor he cared
-nothing for. He was the captain citizen
-of his town; he had held, in turn, every
-office public esteem could give him; he
-was president of a wealthy corporation
-which controlled a bank. It was this
-treasury which he was said to have rifled,
-and its cashier whom he was said to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>
-murdered. No living creature was there
-in all Connecticut but laughed aloud
-when the report began to spread; but
-time and circumstantial proof sobered
-them, and increased the breed of cynics
-and sceptics the country over. The
-philanthropist, the good man, the Sunday-school
-paragon, forsooth, once again
-exposed in all his gangrened sanctity!
-Two sickening circumstances, in the dark
-designs of Providence, pointed at him
-with deadly finger. One was, that at the
-time of the robbery, there was an impending
-crash in his vested finances,
-since wholly and finally averted by his
-foresight and skill; the other, that sometime
-before, in the discharge of duty, he
-had incurred the enmity of the victim.
-Was it not possible, during Mr. Openshaw's
-interval of anxiety, he, that is,
-any other than he, might have dared retrieve
-his fortune, and silence the witness
-of his crime, George Wheeling, found
-unexpectedly at his desk at midnight over
-his accounts, and thrown down the stair
-into the vaults? But there was a more
-certain and horrible evidence. He had
-been seen escaping; he had been recognized.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>
-The scuffle had roused the occupants
-of houses near; and these, looking
-forth by the city lamplight, saw the flying
-figures, one of them, alas, inconceivably,
-yet unmistakably, so help us God! the
-Honorable Langdon Openshaw. Had
-they not a perfect unanimous knowledge,
-for many years, of his face, his unique
-gait, his uncommon stature? Where
-was there another such odd and definite
-physical personality? As to the confederates,
-well, there were reasons, no doubt,
-why bravos should be hired.</p>
-
-<p>Wearily, wearily, he parted his gaze
-from the alluring eternity in the river,
-and strolled a little distance to the warm
-wall, and sat down in the late September
-grasses against it, like the broken man he
-was. He took off his hat, a characteristic
-dark soft felt such as he always wore,
-and the air was good upon his brow. His
-thoughts reverted to old times. He had
-no kindred except a sister living in Santa
-Barbara with her family of daughters, and
-between them there had never been any
-marked natural affection. The distant
-cousin of his own whom he had married,
-had borne him no children, and she was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>
-dead: a gentle, negative soul, to whom he
-confided little of what touched him most.
-He had formed no intimate companionships.
-No one save his mother, whom
-he lost in his boyhood, and whose maiden
-name he bore, had ever possessed much
-influence over him. He was a man's
-man, as the saying is, hitherto of any age
-he chose, and rich in all resources. But
-he had strong dormant affections, shamefacedly
-expended on public orphanages
-and hospitals, and on the Society for the
-Prevention of Cruelty to Animals; and
-he felt rightly that he could have been
-fatherly, brotherly, even filial, with a
-son. Ah, if he but had a son! Bulwarked
-about with modern conveniences,
-that, his one necessary, he had missed.
-And here, in strange opprobrium, was
-the end of his career and of his name.
-"Lover and friend hast Thou put far
-from me!" he breathed to himself, feeling,
-for the first time since his calamity, a
-profound submission of the soul.</p>
-
-<p>He heard voices in the windless air.
-He did not rise, for they were not approaching
-him. He could not help distinguishing
-the animated words.</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>"This is as far as I ought to go. I
-guess I'll say good-bye."</p>
-
-<p>"They will miss you notta yet. Oh,
-please do, please do stay! I starve if I
-am absent. Come, one kissa more."</p>
-
-<p>"No; wait till to-morrow, you great
-baby. Go away now, and do your best
-to be good."</p>
-
-<p>"Alla righta; if you give to me one
-little song."</p>
-
-<p>"Truly?"</p>
-
-<p>"Truly, Anita mia. I desire indeed,
-this hour, the mandolin. But no matter:
-sing. All is quiet: see! it can
-begin."</p>
-
-<p>Then the girl's thin bird-like voice
-soared alone, not in any expected love-lyric
-of the seaport streets, but in a
-Christian folk-song of artless beauty.</p>
-
-<blockquote>
-<div class="poetry">
- <div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">"All in the April evening,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">April airs were abroad;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">The sheep with their little lambs</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Passed me by on the road.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">"The sheep with their little lambs</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Passed me by on the road:</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">All in the April evening</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I thought on the Lamb of God.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">"The lambs were weary, and crying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With a weak human cry:</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">I thought on the Lamb of God</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Going meekly to die.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">"Up in the blue, blue mountains,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Dewy pastures are sweet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">With rest for the little bodies,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And rest for the little feet.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">"But for the Lamb of God,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Up on the hill-top green,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Only a Cross of shame,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Two stark crosses between!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">"All in the April evening,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">April airs were abroad;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">I saw the sheep with their lambs:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I thought on the Lamb of God."<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-
-<p>There was a pause after. Then Openshaw
-sighed. He knew they were in each
-other's arms, the morning heaven blessing
-them; but with him it was spiritual
-darkness, and bitter evenfall. A boat
-passed below, the oarsmen curious; and
-the young loiterers on the old wharf stood
-apart.</p>
-
-<p>"My angel, my sainta!"</p>
-
-<p>"Hush! It is twelve already; I must
-be off."</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>"Ah, the time is so short! Cruel!"</p>
-
-<p>"Dear, you are nicest when you are
-good."</p>
-
-<p>"Behold, I am."</p>
-
-<p>At last the farewells and vacancy; and
-then footsteps making towards the angle
-of the wall. Mr. Openshaw's stately head,
-crowned with the abundant glossy black
-and gray which gave it such distinction in
-a land of bald pates, arose upon the surprised
-view of the new-comer. He, on
-his part, with no question as to a gentleman's
-supposed midday slumbers, stooped,
-and offered Mr. Openshaw his hat. The
-two, confronted, smiled a little; both
-tall, aquiline, clean-shaven.</p>
-
-<p>"I thank you. Perhaps you would
-rather have me say, <i>molte grazie</i>. You are
-an Italian, are you not?"</p>
-
-<p>The other, wonderingly, but with native
-grace, assented. "I am a Florentine."
-How he said it! Where did he get that
-gypsy princeliness, his clear pallor, the
-nameless magic that takes the heart?</p>
-
-<p>"You speak English fairly."</p>
-
-<p>"I have been in youra country long."</p>
-
-<p>"And I in yours, many years ago."
-Now Openshaw was dallying, and consciously.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>
-What impelled him to open
-sociabilities with such an one, he did not
-know. This stripling of another grade
-reminded him dimly of something, and
-teased his eye. "What a bearing the
-fellow has!" he thought again. Having
-snapped every tie with his own life, he
-could afford to be interested in that of
-others. He took pleasure in the diverting
-accent and idiom, and the abandon with
-which the loose, rough clothes were worn.</p>
-
-<p>"Florence is the most beautiful of
-cities. You ought almost to go back."
-It relieved his heart somehow, the foolish
-commonplace, as might the colloquy
-about the weather among aristocrats in
-the tumbrils of the French Revolution.
-All time hung a mortal weight upon his
-hands; nor did the un-Americanized
-stranger seem to be in a hurry. But now
-he started a little.</p>
-
-<p>"Go back? Santa Maria! I suffer:
-I go back so soona that I can!" As he
-spoke, with the soft round harp-like Tuscan
-tone which the east wind of New England
-had not rasped, he glanced around
-apprehensively. "With money, nexta
-month, I sail on the sea, and I arrive."</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>"Well, that might be worse," said the
-elder man, indulgently. "May I ask
-your name?"</p>
-
-<p>"Ralph Power."</p>
-
-<p>"Ralph Power? That is not an
-Italian name."</p>
-
-<p>"Sir, I know. My mother, she have
-the marriage name Potenza. Rodolfo,
-that is mine. I translate the two, and
-that is Ralph Power, whicha make it easy
-for the tongue of many."</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Openshaw had drawn his hand
-over his eyelids, as if feeling the sting of
-memory.</p>
-
-<p>"What do you do for a living here?"</p>
-
-<p>"I serva the market. Once I assist
-to builda boats for the Capitan, but now
-he work no more; the beautiful Anne,
-she is his daughter. Ah, signor!" Ingenuously,
-boyishly, he sighed.</p>
-
-<p>"How old are you?"</p>
-
-<p>"Twenty-two."</p>
-
-<p>"How many questions I have asked
-you! I am afraid I have kept you from
-your duties. Pray go now."</p>
-
-<p>The other bowed, and turned townwards.
-But Openshaw felt on the instant
-a sort of loneliness. "Rodolfo!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>
-he exclaimed, "do me the favor to
-spend this." He slipped a coin into
-an uninviting hand, partly, as he would
-have said himself, from natural depravity,
-partly, from the sheer luxury of his own
-incognito, and that of giving away to a
-young man what no young man could inherit.
-"It may help you out of your
-trouble. Trouble is very hard to bear,
-sometimes."</p>
-
-<p>If he were aware of expecting anything
-in return, from a poor Italian, it was the
-usual ecstatic thankful benediction of poor
-Italians in like luck. Once he had lived
-among them on their own soil; he knew
-the simple-hearted, engaging, vagabond
-breed through and through. But this specimen
-of it flushed and scowled, while trying
-to seem courteous; and his would-be
-benefactor was puzzled. As they stood
-opposite, they were of equal height; for
-the younger had drawn himself up a good
-inch.</p>
-
-<p>"I am afraid you are proud. You
-have picked that up in New England."</p>
-
-<p>Rodolfo answered resentfully: "Sir, I
-have the blood of New England also, and
-it is for me the destiny to earn my money,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>
-most of all after what I promise to the
-beautiful Anne."</p>
-
-<p>As he said it, warming thus into his
-very self, the eyes of Openshaw, watching
-him, were dazzled, as one may be
-who crosses an alcove towards a door in
-plain sight, and finds that seeming door
-a mirror. A little alarum-bell rang in his
-brain. He shuddered, for all the forces
-within him were rallying together: triumph,
-hate, revenge, deadly delight;
-things he had not known were possible
-to him swarmed into his spirit with a
-clang. He recognized, at a stroke, that
-this vagrant youth, this common workman,
-looking at him with no smile now,
-bore a violent resemblance to himself.
-He searched for details, lightning-quick,
-and devouringly. Yes! there were the
-dark, fine, pendulous hair, the small,
-close ear, the strong nose and jaw, even
-the large, slender hand toil had hardly
-scarred, the back of it smooth and hard
-as veined marble; how like the Openshaw
-hand, plain in the old Lely portrait,
-plainer yet in the Stuarts, on the melancholy
-walls of his own home! And what
-followed? The voice, significant, prophetic,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>
-of the demon of self-preservation
-in his ear: "This may be the man who
-killed George Wheeling. This must be
-the man. Impeach him; clear yourself!"
-Openshaw, in his calmer mood, a few
-moments back, had measured the character
-before him. Whatever else it was,
-it was not astute. He foresaw no trouble
-in worming the secret out of him.</p>
-
-<p>"Very well," he replied, as if æons on
-æons of thought had not passed since he
-spoke last. "I will take the gold-piece
-back, on your own condition: I will see
-that you earn it. Have you business on
-hand?"</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, no. The venerable butcher, the
-fever kills him; we bury him, and locka
-the door for all day." Rodolfo was sullen
-yet.</p>
-
-<p>"Then, will you kindly go into the
-square, buy me cheese, pilot bread, two
-quart bottles of Sauterne, and two glasses,
-and return by way of Daniels Street? I
-shall be waiting at the landing. I should
-like to hire a boat for an hour, and have
-you row me up river. Will you do
-so?"</p>
-
-<p>The lad hesitated. Finally, touched,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>
-or put upon his mettle by a seeming confidence,
-he set out, with the greenback in his
-pocket which Mr. Openshaw had given
-him. The latter, at this pause in their
-colloquy, was made aware that he was suffering
-keenly. He had exceeding self-control;
-his successes in life had sprung
-from it. But every mastered nerve in his
-body, having already undergone so much,
-and having so much to undergo, was humming
-like a beehive. He could not stand
-still. He wandered about, meeting few
-pedestrians, across Water Street, up Manning
-Street to Puddle Dock with its
-liberty pole, and again past the graveyard,
-lingering wherever he could command
-a view of the broad glorious
-anchorage, tragic with the exposed ribs of
-rotting ships. Into the happier neighborhoods
-near, he would not penetrate;
-this one had been happy too, when he
-was a child. There he saw but visions of
-greatness gone, of comfort broken, and
-an hour ago, could have laid his cheek to
-the old flaggings, and wept. But he had
-now a terrible just purpose, and for that
-he must save his strength.</p>
-
-<p>He was at the landing later than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>
-Rodolfo, who sat in a white wherry ballasted
-with his purchases, the oars already
-in hand. Openshaw rested his cane on
-the gunwale, and stepped quietly into the
-stern; they backed out of the cramped
-spaces, and shot away. The surface of
-the harbor was dimpling, little by little,
-with the great hidden swirls of the turning
-tide; deceptively glassy between its
-deflected banks, it gleamed like the thin
-ice which forms in November, and over
-which boys send pebble after pebble, and
-laugh to hear them chirruping. But
-Rodolfo had learned long since how to
-cajole the fierce Piscataqua; and tacking
-artfully by St. John's Point, he labored
-through the end arch of the great bridge,
-and gained the blue highway beyond. A
-train thundered overhead. Two women
-in the footpath, leaning over the rail,
-stared fixedly at the little boat, and from
-one sensitive face to the other, and again
-at their contrasted attire. They were
-Rodolfo's neighbors, and pleased that he
-had fallen in with a gentleman.</p>
-
-<p>The cruisers were not back within the
-hour, nor within three hours. The whole
-world was to change strangely for them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>
-both, meanwhile. The order of what
-Langdon Openshaw had intended to say
-and do came to naught, because what happens
-to happen is lord over the strongest
-human will. He had prepared his cunning
-questionings, as if to force his own
-fate, forgetting that the aggregation of
-outer circumstance which we call fate is
-itself an irresistible vortex; the trapper,
-and not the trapped. Up stream, by
-Frank's Fort, under a sapphire sky, while
-as yet little had been said, he found that
-his watch had run down, and he asked
-for the correct time. Rodolfo set him
-right from a cheap timepiece. As he
-handled it, there appeared, linked to the
-guard, an artistic bit of bronze, a tiny
-Renaissance figure, with bow and hound,
-the blown draperies minutely fair. Openshaw
-saw it, and the whole universe was
-not so manifest to him as that small
-ominous curio within it.</p>
-
-<p>"The Diana! On your soul, where,
-how, did you get that?" It was familiar
-to him; he knew it, though he had not
-seen it for more than a score of years.
-The rower dropped it back into his breast,
-definitely.</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>"It is mine, and dear to me. My
-mother who gave it, she is dead."</p>
-
-<p>"Did you say your mother's name was
-Potenza? Was it Agata Potenza? Agata
-Boldoni once?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yes."</p>
-
-<p>There was a thronging pause.</p>
-
-<p>"When did she die?"</p>
-
-<p>"It was sixa years ago; I proceed to
-America."</p>
-
-<p>"Have you brothers and sisters?"</p>
-
-<p>"I have, in Italy, twin brothers, older;
-their lame-a father, Niccola Potenza, live
-with them. But he is notta mine."</p>
-
-<p>Quick, loud, sure, the queries and the
-answers fell, like the hammer-strokes of
-a coffin in the making.</p>
-
-<p>"Your father was&mdash;?"</p>
-
-<p>"How can I know? They tell me
-he was vera handsome, vera rich, and
-from this America. <i>Malfattore!</i> He
-steal away, and I am born after; and she
-see him not in her life, I see him not in
-mine."</p>
-
-<p>The crew had apparently hurt the
-passenger, for the latter heaved against
-the thwarts.</p>
-
-<p>"Once more. Was your mother
-ever married to your father?"</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>Rodolfo knit his brows, and set his
-teeth. "No."</p>
-
-<p>For a long, long time there was no
-sound but the little singing keel on its
-joyous flight, and Openshaw's head was
-hidden in his hands. Rodolfo, of his own
-vigorous accord, took the way of Dover
-Bridge, across the noble inland bay, and
-branched up the shallowing Oyster.
-There by the bank, in the stiller solitudes,
-he shipped his oars, and, reaching
-forth, touched the bowed shoulder, not
-without compassion.</p>
-
-<p>"<i>Illustrissimo</i>, look up! Tell me."
-Then did Openshaw begin, steadily, but
-hardly above his breath, intent the while
-on the image of his own youth before him,
-as if from that only he might draw courage
-to confess.</p>
-
-<p>"I have a dear friend who, when he
-was no older than you are now, went to
-Italy. He spent his best years in a delusion,
-for he thought then he might
-become a great painter. His character,
-such as it was and is, turned to the things
-of good report; he was an orphan, with a
-competence; but he had had no home, and
-no moral training. Being something of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>
-a recluse, he developed late and slowly.
-At a time when the storm-clouds in most
-young men's lives are lifting, his were
-surcharging themselves, and getting ready
-to burst. On his thirtieth birthday, in
-Ferrara, he&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"In Ferrara, yes!" broke the eager
-interruption.</p>
-
-<p>"He persuaded another man's wife to
-run away with him. She was a peasant,
-very young and innocent, with a sweet
-pensive Perugino face; she had been
-his model, up to her marriage with Niccola
-Potenza."</p>
-
-<p>There was a sharp affirmative breath
-from the listener.</p>
-
-<p>"Niccola Potenza was a cooper, with
-good prospects. He was considered
-quite a match for the girl; but he turned
-out to be dull, silent, and preoccupied.
-Little Agata was romantic; and her
-thoughts ran easily back to my friend.
-The fault was, assuredly, all his. He
-thought that he loved her, and so, indeed,
-he did; although he loved better,
-alas, the adventure and the rebellion. At
-any rate, he took her away boldly from
-her husband and her babes, and set up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>
-life in his old studio, in Florence. The
-cooper, sworn to revenge himself, had
-nearly hunted my friend down, when on
-Easter Day he fell from a crowded and
-festooned inn-balcony, and broke his
-thigh. Somehow, after that, his fury
-failed him; and he sank, under his misfortune,
-into a sort of apathy. Things went
-wrong also with the lovers. Agata kept
-only for a while her soft, joyous, docile
-ways, and then grew restless and wretched,
-with the canker of a good heart spoiled,
-which nothing on earth can cure. She
-would spend hours in the chapel near by,
-her face covered, thinking and weeping;
-and then she would go back to her little
-household tasks, and move about in my
-friend's sight, her pale penitent face driving
-him wild more effectually than any
-audible reproach could have done. Of
-course he saw what was in her soul: the
-struggle between her foolish passion for
-him, and mortal home-sickness for the
-inner peace which had attended her old
-honorable life. He, on his part, resented
-the moral awakening in her, and stamped
-down both her conscience and his own.
-Against the voice within which bade him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>
-since he had done her an irretrievable
-wrong, to take the legal burden of it
-upon himself, and make her his wife in
-America, arose his tyrannous social
-cowardice. He dared not; he had a depraved
-but intelligent dread of discord
-and incongruities. And so, as many
-another man as weak has done, he served
-his æsthetic sense, and threw honor to
-the winds. He was never, I think, wilfully
-unkind to Agata; his selfishness
-would seem to me now less diabolic had
-he tried to estrange her from him. But
-as soon as their first apprehensive year
-together had passed, without any talk on
-the subject, he left her. Before he took
-his train, that night in May, my friend
-drew up a paper for poor Agata's maintenance.
-The sum was small, but much
-more than she had been accustomed to
-call her own. I know he had no forewarning
-of&mdash;of his child; he provided
-for her alone." Mr. Openshaw was speaking
-with some difficulty. "When were
-you born?"</p>
-
-<p>"On the feast of San Stefano, the
-twenty-sixta of December, eighteen hundred
-sixta-five."</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>Rodolfo had been listening under a
-strain keener than that of physical deafness.
-The more nervously overwrought
-of the two at this particular moment, he
-was likewise the more restrained. A
-certain question was hot in his throat.
-Though he had not understood all of
-Mr. Openshaw's melancholy monologue,
-he had apprehended the heart of it only
-too well. But he said nothing further.</p>
-
-<p>A flock of pioneer blackbirds, in delirious
-chatter, were gathering overhead for
-their autumn migration, darkening the
-narrow sky-space with their circling wings.
-Openshaw looked up.</p>
-
-<p>"Those birds go from pole to pole to
-find&mdash;what? So did he. His youth was
-killed in him; and before long, nevertheless,
-he was cheerful and active again, and
-courted by the world. He came home to
-his own honest and normal life, and after
-a while he married. He had no tidings
-of Agata, and had actually resolved once
-to try to find her, when he heard what
-must have been a false report, that she
-had died; and he did not doubt it, for
-he used to see her faithful patient little
-face in all his dreams. From what I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>
-learned of late, I believe that he is most
-miserable, and near his own end. He
-does not deserve to hear of her last days.
-But if by letting me know, you can punish
-him through me, do not spare him.
-I will not, I promise you."</p>
-
-<p>Rodolfo sat in the boat, immovable,
-the thin leaves of the bowery wild-grape
-flapping overhead, and flickering him with
-elfin light and shade. "My mother," he
-began in a low voice, "did the best: the
-grace of God was in her. Niccola was sick;
-the trade was gone, and then was mucha
-poverty. With me in her amiable arms,
-she return on the feet to Ferrara, and
-petition him; and, lo! the good cripple
-man, he pardon. There us four in one
-family, we flourish. The American money
-she could notta help, go among all till all
-are grown; she die of the fever sixa year
-ago, with many candles and masses for
-her soul; and because it is notta fit that
-my brothers spend on me, I ask Niccola's
-blessing, and come to America. That is
-the end."</p>
-
-<p>Openshaw inquired presently, when he
-could do so: "Had you any education,
-as a child? Can you read and write,
-Rodolfo?"</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>"No." He sat sheepishly for a moment,
-then seized his oars.</p>
-
-<p>"How have you prospered over here?
-Have you been able to save a little? You
-spoke of wishing to return."</p>
-
-<p>Rodolfo quivered. "It musta be."</p>
-
-<p>"Why so?" There was genuine tenderness
-in the two words.</p>
-
-<p>"There is nothing of hope for me. I
-am in a greata fix. I leave, I go; I cannot
-stay. I have a sin also. Only my
-beloved, she know how it was I transgress,
-so thatta perhaps my guilt is not
-for eternity."</p>
-
-<p>Openshaw laid the tip of his stick
-upon the rowlock, with authority. "Do
-not start yet; let the boat drift. You
-must be hungry with this long exercise.
-Pray pass me those things near you, and
-the wine; and while you lunch, I hope
-you will be as frank with me, Rodolfo, as
-I have been with you.... I look upon it
-as a miracle of mercy that at the eleventh
-hour we have found each other." He
-knew that the young man's blazing black
-eyes were full upon him. "I can help
-you. Only keep nothing back." He filled
-one of the glasses from the fizzing bottle,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>
-and passed it. But it was struck aside,
-and the cry that followed was so sincere it
-gave the rudeness dignity.</p>
-
-<p>"Ah! No, no, no. Sir, I touch the
-spiritual drink no more till I die. I vow
-to Anita mia, after the terrible night.
-For see! The evil ones, companions, take
-me on a burst in a city notta this, Hartaford,
-and thieve." His voice dropped
-under the excitement, like a file of infantry
-under fire. "They thieve a banka;
-and I watch, in gin so drunk as Bacco;
-and when the invisible man arise pugnacious,
-I throttle him, and curse, and rolla
-him down to the cellar. He moan and
-expire, so that we go down to thieva
-more; but the city she hears, there is a
-sound, then a sound on top of him, and we
-fly, fly, fly, this streeta, that streeta, till I
-come back awake to this Portsmouth, and
-fall on my knee to Anne, and cry tears.
-Ah, my sainta! she comfort me in charity,
-and talk to me, and keepa me from
-the bad; and for penance I go vera dry
-always, not to be damn. I tell it not to
-Niccola at home when I go; and I pray
-to go soon, that the Statesa Prison notta
-hanga me."</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>Such is the equilibrium between the
-infinite and folly, that at this juncture,
-as he recalled afterwards, Mr. Openshaw
-was eating his cheese. He answered,
-marvelling at his own composure.</p>
-
-<p>"I read about it in the newspapers.
-You are in great danger, my poor boy.
-Now listen. There is a ship sailing for
-Genoa from New York next Saturday;
-and on her I wish you to engage your
-passage. That will give you a week to
-adjust your little affairs here; and you
-must, moreover, see your excellent sweetheart,
-and persuade her to marry you and
-go with you. Will you do that?"</p>
-
-<p>Rodolfo opened his fine eyes very wide,
-and then closed them. "Oh, voluptuous
-as it would be, I cannot. The
-Capitan he make Anne deny me until I
-shall have many riches. She is a handmaid
-of domestic service on Pleasanta
-Street; but the old one, he is proud for
-her, and with the mosta reason in all the
-world. I shall coop with thesea my brothers
-cooping always in Ferrara, and do my
-parta with my soul. For bye-and-bye
-we make a marriage; and then she will be
-content to live in the sympathetic Italy,
-where safeness is for me."</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>"But we mean to mend all that, Rodolfo.
-Your father, whom I know very
-well, is growing old, and has a great deal
-of property with no one to share it.
-The least he can do for you (I am sure
-he feels that), is to put you out of the
-reach of want. He will not ruin you,
-nor throw you into temptations of a kind
-other than those you have undergone;
-for you are his son, and as such he must
-love you. But he will hope to hear by
-next spring, that you have bought a farm
-and vineyard, and that your kind kins-people
-at home, and your wife, sometimes
-pray for him; yes, and for me.
-Trust me; we need say no more about it.
-He will have it all settled by law as soon
-as he is able, but certainly within a
-month." He passed his hand over his
-hair, absently, and resumed. "You will
-go across the ocean now; and if my friend
-lives, he may come to you; but he may
-not live, and he may not come. It is his
-punishment not so much to lose you, or
-what you might, after all, be to him, as
-to recognize that his awful breach of duty
-has established between you what I may
-call, perhaps, in the long run, an incompatibility."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>
-Poor Openshaw, on the rack
-of his own candor, groaned aloud.</p>
-
-<p>Once more they were crossing Greenland
-Bay, and the lone and lovely miles
-seaward. Rodolfo crept up quietly to his
-strange benefactor, who was absently gazing
-far away, so quietly that the wherry
-moved not a muscle under him.</p>
-
-<p>"It is you," he said. "The 'friend' is
-a made-up. I know. <i>Padre, si!</i>" He
-threw his arms about Mr. Openshaw, his
-old hatred melted away, and lay there
-on his knees like a little boy, sobbing,
-sobbing. "It is for nothing at all," he
-explained with his endearing semblance
-of good-breeding; "but the gentle goodaness
-of God. The beautiful Anne,&mdash;O
-you musta see her, and letta yourself be
-thank in so harmonious the voice of seventeen!
-she will taka me. Behold, I am
-so vera, vera happy." Quite overcome,
-he did not even raise his head when he
-was spoken to.</p>
-
-<p>"Am I forgiven, Rodolfo? Can you
-forgive me for your poor mother's
-sake?"</p>
-
-<p>For answer, the lad covered the hand
-he held with kisses of southern fervor,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>
-and pressed into it the little delicate
-charm from his watch-string.</p>
-
-<p>At the touch of it, the tyranny of yesterday
-and to-morrow, and all his suffering
-present and to come, departed from
-Openshaw. A divine felicity began now
-to possess him; he was grateful, he was
-at peace; whatever his retribution was to
-be, he embraced it, in spirit, like a bride.
-In his revery, he seemed to stand before
-the everlasting tribunal, with inscrutable
-truth on his lips: "Of this that was
-mine I was heedless. Because of my heedlessness,
-Poverty and Ignorance and Inferiority
-and Exile took him by the hand,
-and led him to the pit. He is rescued
-from the worst; he will cling to the highest
-which he sees, with an elected soul to
-help him; but what he might have been
-he can never be. It was I that sowed;
-let it be mine to reap. The indelible
-blood that is shed is on my hands, not
-on his. Visit Thy wrath upon me, for
-here is it due. With body and soul,
-will, sense, and understanding, from first
-to last, in every fibre of my being, I
-affirm me accountable for this thing."
-To the tribunal on earth, its magnate of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>
-unblemished reputation had no explanation
-to offer. He foresaw only his arraignment,
-and the words with which to
-clinch it: "Gentlemen of the jury, I
-plead guilty."</p>
-
-<p>Rodolfo spoke first. "I am so glad I
-guess, I guess from the teara in your eye,
-that time."</p>
-
-<p>The tears welled up again as the other
-replied: "There is something else you
-will never guess, thank God."</p>
-
-<p>"No?"</p>
-
-<p>"No, my boy."</p>
-
-<p>Rodolfo looked up, and smiled, without
-irrelevant curiosity. He was too
-content, afloat there.</p>
-
-<p>The Honorable Langdon Openshaw
-took charge of the tiller, the son to whom
-he had twice given life still at his feet.
-With neither oar nor sail the guided boat
-came home from the upper waters to
-the port, in the mellowing afternoon,
-borne on the mighty ebb-tide of the
-Piscataqua.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">THE PROVIDER.</h2></div>
-
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Nora</span> cried out: "'Tis so pretty to-day!"
-The barefooted children were
-threading the slopes of Howth towards
-Raheny. Far-off, the city, with its lights
-and stretches of glorified evening water,
-was lying there lovely enough between
-the mountains and the sea. It was
-Nora's tenth birthday, and, to please her,
-they had been on the march all afternoon,
-their arms full of rock-born speedwell
-and primrose. "'Tis so pretty!"
-echoed little Winny, with enthusiasm.
-But the boy looked abroad without a
-smile. "'T'd be prettier when things is
-right," he answered severely. Hughey
-was a man of culture; but his speech was
-the soft slipshod of the south. The three
-trudged on in silence, for Hughey was a
-personage to his small sisters; and
-Hughey in a mood was to be respected.
-He, alas, had been in a mood too long.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>
-He had carried Winny over the roughest
-places, and shown her Ireland's Eye, and,
-alongshore, the fishing-nets and trawls;
-he had given his one biscuit to be shared
-between them all; and lying in the velvet
-sward by the Druid stone, he had
-told them all he knew of the fairy-folk
-in their raths, for the seventieth time.
-But he was full of sad and bitter brooding
-the while, thinking of his mother, his
-poor mother, his precious mother, working
-too hard at home, for whom there
-never seemed to be any birthdays or out-of-door
-pleasures.</p>
-
-<p>Hugh was nearly twelve now, and
-mature as the eldest child must always be
-among the poor. He could remember
-times in the county Wexford, before his
-father, who was of kin to half the gentry
-in the countryside, died; times when life
-had a very different outlook, and when
-his peasant mother, with short skirts and
-her sleeves rolled up, would go gayly between
-her great stone-flagged kitchen and
-the well or the turkey-hen's nest under the
-blackthorn hedge, singing, singing, like a
-lark. They had to leave that pleasant
-farm, and the thatched roof which had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>
-sheltered them from their fate, and move
-up to cloudier Dublin, to a stifling garret
-over a beer-shop; and it was a miserable
-change. Malachi O'Kinsella, the cheerful
-thriftless man, with his handsome
-bearing and his superfluous oratory, was
-gone; and his Hughey was too young
-to be of service to those he left behind.
-A fine monument, with <i>Glory be to God</i> on
-it, had to be put up over him in the old
-churchyard, two years ago; and there
-had been since the problem of schooling,
-feeding, and clothing Hughey, Nora,
-and Winny. Then Rose, three years old,
-fell into a lime-kiln, and was associated
-with the enforced luxury of a second
-funeral; and Dan, the baby, born after his
-father's death, was sickly, and therefore
-costly too; and now the rent had to be
-paid, and the morrow thought of, on just
-nothing a week! All of which this
-Hugh, with his acumen and quick sympathy,
-had found out. He worshipped
-his mother, in his shy, abstinent Irish
-way; his heart was bursting for her sake,
-though he but half knew it, with a sense
-of the mystery and wrong-headedness of
-human society.</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>That April Tuesday night, when the
-wildflowers were in a big earthen basin
-on the table, like streaks of moonlight
-and moon-shadow, and the girls were in
-bed, Hughey blew out his candle, shut
-up his penny <i>Gulliver</i>, and went over to
-the low chair in their one room, where
-his mother was crooning Dan to sleep on
-her breast. It shocked him to see how
-thin she was. Her age was but three-and-thirty;
-but it might have been fifty.
-She wore a faded black gown, of decent
-aspect once in a village pew; her thick
-eyelashes were burning wet. Outside
-and far below, were the polluted narrow
-cross-streets, full of flaring torches, and
-hucksters' hand-carts, and drunken voices;
-and beyond, loomed the Gothic bulk of
-Saint Patrick's, not a star above it.</p>
-
-<p>"Mother! 'tis not going to school any
-more Oi'll be." His tired, unselfish
-mother swallowed a great sigh, but said
-nothing. "Oi'll worruk for ye, mother;
-Oi'll be your man. Oi can do't."</p>
-
-<p>There was another and a longer pause;
-and then Moira O'Kinsella suddenly bent
-forward and kissed her first-born. Like
-all the unlettered class in Ireland, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>
-adored learning from afar, and coveted it
-for her offspring. That he should give
-up his hope of "talkin' Latin" touched
-her to the quick. "God love ye, Hughey
-darlint! Phwat can a little bhoy do?"
-But she slept a happier woman for her
-knight's vow.</p>
-
-<p>As for Hughey, there was no sleep for
-him. By the first white light he could
-see the two pathetic pinched profiles side
-by side, the woman's and the babe's,
-both set in the same startling flat oval of
-dark locks. The faces on the mattress
-yonder were so round and ruddy! They
-had not begun to think, as Hughey had;
-even scant dinners and no warmth in
-winter had not blighted one rose as yet
-in those country cheeks. Up to yesterday,
-he had somehow found his mother's
-plight bearable, thanks to the natural
-buoyancy of childhood, and the hope,
-springing up every week, that next week
-she would have a little less labor, a few
-more pence. Besides, it was spring;
-and in spring hearts have an irrational
-way of dancing, as if a fairy fiddler had
-struck up <i>Garryowen</i>. But now Hughey
-was sobered and desperate.</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>There was no breakfast but a crust
-apiece. The McCarthy grandmother, on
-the stairs, gave Nora, starting for school,
-some fresh water-cresses. Just then Mrs.
-O'Kinsella happened to open the door.
-Poor Nora had yielded to temptation and
-filled her mouth, and pretended, holding
-her head down, to be much concerned
-about a bruise on her knee. She could
-not look in her mother's honest eyes,
-ignorant as these were of any blame in
-Nora. Mrs. O'Kinsella went wearily to
-her charing, and seven-year-old Winny set
-up housekeeping with Dan, the primroses
-and a teapot-shaped fish-bone for their
-only toys. Hughey had already gone, nor
-was he at his desk in the afternoon, when
-his teacher and Nora looked vainly for
-him; nor did he return to his lodgings
-until after sundown. When he came, he
-brought milk with him, earned by holding
-a gentleman's horse at the Rotunda;
-and with that and some boiled potatoes,
-there was a feast. Hughey's vocation, it
-would appear, had not yet declared itself.
-He had haunted Stephen's Green and its
-sumptuous purlieus in vain. He had
-not been asked to join partners with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>
-Messrs. Pim, nor to accept a Fellowship
-at Trinity. The next day's, the next
-month's history was no more heroic.
-There were so many of those bright, delicate-featured,
-ragged-shirted boys in Dublin,
-coming about on foggy mornings
-with propositions! The stout shop-keepers
-were sated with the spectacle
-of the unable and willing.</p>
-
-<p>The days dragged. An affable policeman
-who had known Hughey's mother
-at home in New Ross, seeing him once
-gazing in a junk-shop door, finally presented
-him to the proprietor: "Toby,
-allow me t' inthroduce a good lad wants
-a dhrive at glory. Can ye tache um the
-Black Art, now? He can turrun his
-hand to most anythin', and his pomes,
-Oi hear, do be grand, for his age."</p>
-
-<p>The junk-man, good-naturedly scanning
-Hughey, saw him burst into tears,
-and beat the air, though the giant of the
-law had passed on. That his chief and
-most secret sin should be mentioned aloud,
-to prejudice the world of commerce against
-him, was horrible. His mother had told
-on him! She must have found some lines
-on Winny's slate last Sunday, entitled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
-<i>Drumalough: a Lament for the Fall of the
-Three Kings, Written at Midnight.</i> Worra,
-worra! Hughey was descended, on the
-paternal side, through a succession of
-ever-falling fortunes, from a good many
-more than three kings, and used to wonder
-where their crowns and sceptres were,
-not that he might pawn them, either.
-The O'Kinsellas were a powerful aboriginal
-sept in the old days, and lived in
-fortress castles, and playfully carried off
-cattle and ladies from their neighbors of
-the Pale. Malachi O'Kinsella's mother,
-a heroine of romance who ran away with
-a jockey lover, and never throve after,
-was of pure Norman blood, and most
-beautiful, with gray eyes, water-clear, like
-Hughey's own, and the same bronze-colored
-hair; and it was said she could
-play the harp that soft it would draw
-the hearing out of your head with ecstasy!
-Now the junk-man was fatherly,
-and presented Hughey, in default of a
-situation, with a consolatory coin; but
-foregoing events had been too trying for
-the boy's nerves: he dropped it, and
-fled, sobbing. He simply couldn't live
-where his po'try was going to rise up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>
-against him, and wail like a Banshee in
-the public ear. He charged, in his
-wrath and grief, across the crowded
-bridge, and down the line of quays east
-of it, straight into a fat, gray-headed,
-leather-aproned person directing a group
-of sailors unloading a boat.</p>
-
-<p>This person, sent of Heaven, with miraculous
-suddenness, and with musical
-distinctness, exclaimed: "'Aven't I been
-a-wishin' of 'im, and directly 'e runs into
-me harms! Crawl into that barrel, sonny,
-and if you 'old it steady, I'll 'eave you
-tuppence." Hughey, foreordained likewise,
-crawled in. When he came out, Mr.
-J. Everard Hoggett looked him over, from
-his moribund hat to his slight patrician
-ankle. "I likes a boy wot's 'andy, and
-'as little to sy, like you." He resumed
-critically, "'E don't appear to be from
-any of 'Er Marjesty's carstles, 'e don't.
-Perhaps 'e might like to 'ang about 'ere,
-and earn three bob a week?" Hughey
-hugged his twopenny piece, blushed,
-trembled, twisted his legs in the brown
-trousers too big for him, and replied in
-gulps: "O sir! Yes, sir." Whereby
-his annals begin.</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>This perfectly amazing luck befell towards
-the end of May. Mr. Hoggett,
-going home, beckoned him, took him
-into a little eating-house, sat him down,
-paid for a huge order, and departed.
-"There's a couple o' lion cubs hinside
-wot ought to be your westcot, needs 'am
-and heggs. Fill 'em full; and mind you
-come to-morrow at a quarter to ight.
-I'll 'ave no lyzy lubbers alongside o' me."
-With which fierce farewell, and disdaining
-thanks, Mr. Hoggett faded wholly
-away.</p>
-
-<p>Hughey, half-dazed, sat at a table
-alone, sniffing celestial fragrances from
-the rear, with the joy in his breast jumping
-like a live creature in a box. To
-quiet it, while he waited, he took up a
-torn journal which was lying on the nearest
-chair. At first, what he read seemed
-to have no meaning, but when some
-moments had passed, still odorous only,
-and non-flavorous, Hughey's collected
-and intelligent eye had taken in the dramatic
-political crisis, the stocks, the African
-news, the prospects of Irish literature,
-and the latest London wife-beating. On
-the advertisement page, one especial paragraph<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>
-in sensational print rooted his attention.
-This was it:&mdash;</p>
-
-<blockquote>
-
-<p>"SERVANTS AND APPRENTICES,
-ATTENTION! Here is the best Chance of
-your lives. It will Never come again. <i>Trade
-with us, and you lay the</i> FOUNDATION <i>of
-your</i> FORTUNE! With every sixpenny worth
-of goods bought of us on any Saturday night,
-we give a COUPON on the Ninth anti-Sassenach
-Bank of Belfast. <i>Fifty of these</i> entitle
-the Bearer at the end of the year to a gift of
-TEN POUNDS IN GOLD!! Honesty
-the best Policy our motto. Best Material at
-Lowest Prices; come and see. <i>Do not Neglect
-your own</i> <span class="smcap">Good</span>. McClutch &amp; Gullim, Linen-drapers,
-No. 19&mdash; &mdash;&mdash; St."</p></blockquote>
-
-<p>Hughey, the innocent prospective capitalist,
-took a stubby pencil from the only
-sound pocket in his habiliments, and began
-to figure on the margin of the paper;
-for he had an inspiration. "Mother
-would be thundherin' rich!" was what
-flashed into his mind. Before he had
-done with his emergency arithmetic, ham
-and eggs, with all their shining train,
-were set before him. With them, he
-gallantly swallowed his conscience, for
-Hughey, like a nobler Roman before him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>
-was resolving to be gloriously false, and,
-for piety's sake, to trade his soul. He
-foresaw vaguely that he would not be allowed,
-out of his royal wages of three
-shillings, to spend full half every Saturday
-night, at McClutch and Gullim's;
-yet to do it was the imperative thing now,
-and that he felt impelled to do it was his
-own super-private business, and his warrant.
-Therefore would he keep his
-secret close, and make what excuse he
-might. He could not even think of asking
-advice; how should any one else be
-able to realize how he must act towards
-his mother? The angels had given her
-into his hands; and he knew at last
-what was to be done for her. She should
-be rich and gay, and have a coach, perhaps,
-like a real lady; and Danny should
-have a goat, and a sash with stripes in it,
-like the little twin Finnegans; and the
-Misses Honora and Winifrid O'Kinsella
-should walk abroad with parasols!
-Proper man&oelig;uvring now would fetch
-twenty-five pounds sterling next summer.
-But he would hide away what he
-bought, and never tell until the beatific
-hour when his mother should have the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>
-money, and the linen, and the truth about
-them, all together!</p>
-
-<p>Hughey went home in a series of
-hops and whirls, like a kitten's. He
-brought a flood of riotous sunshine in
-with him. It was supper-time; the
-children had each a ha'penny bun, and
-some tea. Mrs. O'Kinsella was lying
-down, with an ache between her lungs
-and her spine, after a long day's lifting
-and scrubbing. She felt the good news,
-before the child spoke. "O mother!
-'tis the most illigant thing's happened:
-ye niver heard the loike." Hughey's
-pale comely little face was radiant.</p>
-
-<p>"Phwhere is ut, and phwhat d'ye get,
-dear?" Then Hughey screwed up his
-courage, and told his only, his masterly
-lie: "North Wall, mother; and a shillin'
-and six every week." "A shillin' and
-six!" shrieked Nora. "O Hughey!"
-But the critic for whose opinion he cared
-was not quite so enraptured. She smiled,
-and praised him, but took it too tamely,
-her son thought. However, he reflected
-that she little knew the felicities in store.</p>
-
-<p>In the morning, his career began, and
-it maintained itself with vigor, inasmuch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>
-as by the autumn he was of real value to
-his employers. He had many duties
-and some trusts. His orders all came
-directly from the benevolent bluff Mr.
-Hoggett, or from his mild reflection and
-under-study, a small, bald, capable head-clerk
-from the north, who was known
-as Jibtopsails; for what reason, Hughey
-could never divine, unless it was that his
-ears were uncommonly large and flapping.
-Jibtopsails sent him here and there with
-parcels and messages, and he had been
-faithful; he had made no grave mistake
-yet, nor had he been unpunctual. But
-every Saturday of his life saw him posing
-as a purchaser at 19&mdash; &mdash;&mdash; Street, where
-a hard-featured old woman, supposed
-mother of the supposed junior partner,
-served him always with the same ironically
-deferent, "Good day, sir; and what
-can I show you?" Jibtopsails inquired
-occasionally after the health of Hughey's
-family, particularly after Hughey had
-told him that Mrs. O'Kinsella was not so
-well as she used to be. For the rest, the
-sympathy of that gentle cynic made the
-child's blood run cold: he had such a
-paralyzing fear that Jibtopsails might call<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>
-there at the house, and talk to his mother,
-and say something about three shillings
-a week! Kind people in the parish, if
-they knew, would bring her in wood, and
-coal, and wine; but again, in the hallucination
-of his jealous determined heart, the
-boy prayed passionately that they might
-not know, and that he alone should be the
-deliverer. The dread of his secret being
-found out, little by little made his life intolerable.
-He had grown older since he
-had that to cherish in his bosom, and it
-seemed less delicious than while as yet it
-was nothing but a dream.</p>
-
-<p>His mother broke down, and could
-toil no longer. Mrs. Drogan, who lived
-downstairs, began to come up with her
-mending, and sit between the bed and
-the window. Nora was clever, for so
-young a girl; but she stumbled a great
-deal in her roomy charity boots, and had
-to be scolded for awkwardness by Mrs.
-Drogan, who had brought up sixteen
-rebels, and was disposed to command.
-As for Winny and Dan, they made a
-noise, and therefore had to be exiled to
-the street, foul and dangerous as it was,
-almost all day, while the invalid slept the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>
-sleep of utter exhaustion. It occurred
-often to Hughey, and with increasing
-force, that to secure a future good, he
-was doing a very vicious wrong; that it
-would be far better for his mother to
-have the money now, to provide comforts
-and make her well, than for her to
-do without it now, and be too feeble in
-consequence to enjoy it when it would
-come, all in a lump. Heavy and sharp
-was this dilemma to the little fellow, as he
-labelled the great bales, or set Mr. Hoggett's
-dusted ledgers back on their shelves.
-"Phwhat ought I be doin'?" he would
-groan aloud, when he was alone. If he
-confessed to his mother, and handed over
-hereafter the total of his wages, there was
-an end to the big income sprouting and
-budding wondrously at Belfast, the income
-which would be hers yet, with ever
-so little patience. But if he should not
-confess, and, meanwhile, if she should not
-recover,&mdash;what would all the world's
-wealth be then to poor Hughey?</p>
-
-<p>October was damp and dispiriting;
-Mrs. O'Kinsella coughed more, but apparently
-suffered little. Hughey still
-brought her, week by week, his pittance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>
-of a shilling and sixpence. Ill as she was,
-her alert instinct divined that something
-ailed him; she pitied him, and worried
-about him, and kissed his tears away with a
-blessing, very often. Doctor Nugent was
-called in for the first time, one rainy
-noon. He told Mrs. Drogan, laconically,
-that his patient was going to die,
-and stopped her gesture of remonstrance.
-"Say nothing to those children of hers,"
-he added, aside, on the threshold; "there
-is no immediate need of it, and the eldest
-looks melancholy enough without it."</p>
-
-<p>But the eldest was at his elbow. With a
-still ardor painful to see, he raised himself
-close to the tall doctor, and whispered into
-his ear. "Phwhat wud save me mother?
-Wudn't money do it, MONEY?"
-The boy looked so thrillingly, impressively
-earnest that the doctor rose to the
-occasion. "Perhaps! That is, a winter
-in France or Italy might delay the
-end. But dear me! how on earth&mdash;"
-His voice wavered, and he hurried down.</p>
-
-<p>On the way back to the office, Hughey
-crossed Augier Street, and stalked into
-McClutch and Gullim's. He had business
-with the old woman, imminent business.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>
-Would the Ninth anti-Sassenach
-Bank of Belfast advance half of an
-annual interest? that is, would they allow
-him, Hugh O'Kinsella of Dublin,
-merchant's errand-boy, what was due on
-his receipts of purchases up to date?
-He found that circumstances over which
-he had no control prevented his waiting
-until May: please might he draw out the
-eleven odd pounds now? The old woman
-had recently had other queries of that
-nature, which proved that the victims
-were getting restless; that it would soon
-be advisable, in short, to strike camp,
-and betake herself and her nefarious concerns
-to Leeds or Manchester. Her sourness
-vented itself promptly on Hughey.
-Decidedly, the Ninth anti-Sassenach Bank
-would do nothing of the sort; it was
-against the rules; it never advanced cash
-except in case of death, when coupons
-from McClutch and Gullim's would hold
-good for a life-insurance policy to the
-corpse's relatives. "And now g'long to
-the divil wid ye, ye limb!" concluded
-Mrs. Gullim, in a burst of vernacular
-indignation.</p>
-
-<p>Hughey fairly reeled out to the pavement,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>
-with wheels humming in his brain,
-and a large triangular rock, sharper than
-knives and smeared with poison (a not
-unfamiliar rock, of late), lodged in the
-middle of his throat. As he turned
-down the windy North Wall, among
-the sleek cattle waiting for exportation,
-and pushed open the warehouse door
-by the Liffey, Jibtopsails took his pen
-from behind his capacious ear, and peered
-over his spectacles.</p>
-
-<p>"<i>Cead mille failthe, Brian Boruihme!</i>
-and how is the royal fam&mdash;&mdash;." He got
-no further; the young face opposite was
-so awry with the spirit's mortal anguish
-that Jibtopsails was truly sorry he had
-tried to be jocose. It was almost a first
-offence.</p>
-
-<p>And now, with much introspection,
-and heart-searching, and resolve, Hughey's
-tragedy gathered itself together. On
-Sunday, after church, he had occasion
-to go out of town. As he wished to
-deal with Nora, he offered to give her a
-ride on the tram: a species of entertainment
-which she accepted with enthusiasm.
-When they were at the end of
-their route, they set forth on foot, up-hill,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>
-over two miles of exquisite moorland, to
-the house of the retired first mate of the
-Grace Greeley, who was summoned by
-the firm of Hoggett as witness in a lawsuit.
-Nora was in her usual spirits, and
-her brother tried to wait until they should
-show signs of flagging. O the heavenly
-freedom of the country! the pleasant
-smell of damp leaves! But Hughey's
-heart would not rise. As they passed
-the sheep-folds, the pretty huddled creatures
-made Nora laugh, standing still,
-agape, in her blue faded frock; and he
-grabbed her roughly by the arm, albeit
-his sad forbearing tone was not rough.
-"D'ye love me at all, Nora?"</p>
-
-<p>"That Oi do, Hughey O'Kinsella;
-and ye needn't be scrunchin' of me to
-foind ut out."</p>
-
-<p>"Nora!"</p>
-
-<p>"Phwhat is ut?"</p>
-
-<p>"There's somethin' Oi do be bound
-to say to ye." A pause.</p>
-
-<p>"Can ye keep a secret?"</p>
-
-<p>"Shure, Oi can."</p>
-
-<p>"'Tis turrible."</p>
-
-<p>"Niver ye moind, Oi'll keep ut!"
-said the loyal other.</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>Hughey lifted his face to the sweet
-blowy autumn afternoon, took breath,
-and increased his pace. "Mother is
-loike to be doyin' soon. Maybe ye
-didn't hear o' that. But she cud live
-a hunderd year if ut wasn't so cruel
-poor we are. Oi've been a-thinkin'
-wan reason of ut is she has too many
-childher. 'Tis good little Rosy is with
-the saints. Childher all eats and wears
-clothes, and isn't much use. If mother
-wasn't ill, there'd be nothin' the matther
-wid me; we cud go on along, and
-Oi'd have power to do the beautiful
-things, Nora dear. Ye'd all be proud as
-paycocks o' me whin next the cuckoo'll
-be in the green bush down be the Barrow;
-only mother wud be undher the
-ground. So 'tis long before that Oi
-must be doin' phwhat Oi'm meanin' to
-do. Now's the toime for her to be
-cured, and the toime for me to behave
-the usefullest to her is to-morrow, just
-afther Oi'm dead."</p>
-
-<p>The younger child was bewildered,
-over-awed. "May the Lorrud have
-mercy upon your sowl, Hughey!" she
-murmured with vague solemnity, taking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>
-in the legendary word "dead" and nothing
-else. Her light feet ran unevenly
-beside his, up the slope and down the
-hollow, and over stiles and pasture-walls,
-bright with their withering vines. She
-was all ear when her brother began again,
-irrelevantly and more softly, on his tremendous
-theme, so old now to his
-thoughts that he was conscious of no
-solecism in the abrupt utterance of it.
-"Whin ye dhrown, ye niver look bad at
-a wake. A man kilt in the battle looks
-bad, but not a dhrowned man. 'Tis
-grand to be a marthyr to your counthry;
-howsomiver, the guns isn't convanient,
-and Oi must hould to the wather. The
-rest Oi can't tell, becaze ye're a woman,
-and wudn't undhersthand; but there's
-pounds and pince in ut, and 'tis the
-foine thing intoirely for mother." He
-turned upon her his most searching gaze.
-"Ye'll be constant and koind to her,
-now? Ye'll be runnin' and bringin' her
-a chair, and takin' the beef out o' your
-mouth for her as long as ye live?
-(Shure Oi forgot there's goin' to be tons
-o' beef for yez all.) Promus me, Nora."
-She looked at him, and her wide blue<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>
-eyes filled; and presently she sank down
-all in a heap, her face in the grass, her
-heels in the air. It looked like revolt;
-but it was regret, or rather the utter
-helplessness of either. The boy never
-flinched. "Promus me, Nora." "Oh,
-Oi do, brother Hughey, Oi do!" she
-sobbed. He stood by her a moment,
-then with firmness followed the path out
-of sight, his slender withdrawing figure
-significant against the sky.</p>
-
-<p>When he came back, the anxious
-Nora was on the road, whence she
-could see far and wide. Little was said
-as they returned home, through ways
-thickening with cabs and passers-by.
-But skirting Dean Swift's dark Cathedral,
-they heard the treble voices at evensong
-in the choir, and the grave sweetness
-of Tallis' old music seemed to thaw
-Hughey's blood. He drew his sister
-closer as they walked, and bent his curls
-over her. He had received a fresh illumination
-since he spoke last.</p>
-
-<p>"You're what mother needs," he whispered,
-"and so's Dan, seein' he's no
-bigger than a fairy. But Oi'd be betther
-away, and so'd Winny, for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>
-sake o' leavin' plenthy to eat and plenthy
-o' room. Ye'll give me Winny in
-her little coat whin Oi ax ye to-noight,
-will ye, Nora?" The child glanced up
-mournfully at her ruling genius, without
-a word, but with a look of supernatural
-submission. They went up the rickety
-stairs, arm in arm.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. O'Kinsella, who had had a trying
-day, had just said to Mrs. Drogan, rising
-with a view to supper for her husband:
-"Oi'm of that moind meself. Johanna
-Carr'd be a widdy contint in her ould
-age, if she'd had childher, if she'd had a
-son loike Hughey. Me blessid darlint!
-he's gould an' dimonds. By the grace
-o' God Almighty, Oi cud bow me head
-if He tuk the rest away from me, but
-He cudn't part me and the bhoy, me
-and the bhoy." She began to cough
-again.</p>
-
-<p>Her son asked to sit up late. "Oi'd
-be writin', mother," he pleaded. Her
-pride in him came to her poor thin
-cheeks. "'Tis a Bard ye'll be yet,
-loike the wans your father read about in
-the histhory!" Hughey knew he had
-been misunderstood; but trifles were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>
-trifles, and must be ignored, now that
-the hour of action had struck.</p>
-
-<p>Having taken off his shoes, he sat down
-in the broken chair by the table, with his
-pencil, and the paper which Jibtopsails
-had given him. The inmates of the room
-were all unconscious in half an hour, except
-himself and Nora. She, in a fever
-of excitement, kept vigil, lying as usual
-since consumption had come openly under
-their roof, between Winny and the baby.
-Winny, dirty, hungry, and tired out
-with dancing to a hurdy-gurdy, had
-fallen asleep in her clothes. Nora did
-not require her to undress. These were
-the three letters which Hughey wrote.</p>
-
-<blockquote>
-<p>
-<i>Mr. Everard Hoggett, Limited.</i></p>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>: Thank you for being kind to
-me. I was fond of you. I hope you won't be
-out of a boy long. There do be a very honest
-boy named Mickey McGooley goes to my
-school I used to go to. He has a iron foot,
-but he is good-looking in the rest of him. I
-think he would come if you asked him. Please
-tell the other gentilmen I won't forget him
-either.</p>
-
-
-<p class="right">
-<span class="indent">Your respeckful friend,</span><br />
-<span class="smcap">Hugh</span>.</p>
-</blockquote>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p>
-
-<blockquote>
-<p><i>Ninth Anti-Sassenach Bank, Belfast, Ireland.</i></p>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>: My mother she is named Mrs. M.
-O'Kinsella, will send you the papers from
-McClutch and Gullim. As I will be dead you
-pay my money please to her. I let you know
-now so that it will be all rite. It began last
-May 28th and stops Saturday, October 21st.
-Yours truly, hoping you will send it soon,</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<span class="indent">Yours,</span><br />
-<span class="smcap">H. O'Kinsella</span>.</p></blockquote>
-
-<blockquote>
-<p class="right"><span class="indent1">11 &mdash;&mdash; <span class="smcap">St., Dublin</span>.</span><br />
-October 22nd, 1893.</p>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Dear Mother</span>: You must cheer up and not
-cough. You can go to France or somewhere.
-You will find a heap of lengths of linen stuff in
-a box under the steps of old Tom's shop. He
-doesn't know about it. It is mine and the
-nicest they is, and if you don't be wanting it,
-you can sell it. Then you look in the lining
-of Danny's cap, and find some bank papers,
-and you send them to the Ninth anti-Sassenach
-Bank in Belfast and it will send you nigh twelve
-pound gold. You will find Winny and me by
-Richmond Bridge, and it will not be so expencive
-without us. I hope you won't be low for
-me, for Nora says she will be good. Dear
-mother, I dident know any other way to make
-you happy and well at this present. Goodbye
-from your loving son,</p>
-
-<p class="right">
-<span class="smcap">Hugh Cormac Fitzeustace Le Poer O'Kinsella</span>.</p></blockquote>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>After that laborious signature, he folded
-and addressed the first two sheets, and
-after a plunge into the recesses of his
-pocket, stamped them. The last one he
-slipped beneath his mother's pillow. He
-looked at her wistfully, lying there on the
-brink of all compensation, at last! She
-turned over, and sighed feebly: "Go to
-bed, Hughey dear." He did not dare
-to kiss her, for fear she should become
-wide awake. Back into the shadow he
-shrank, and so remained a long time. A
-dim sense of defeat stole over him, like
-a draught through a crack, from a wind
-which pushes vainly without. But he had
-never in his life hugged any thought
-whose interest centred in himself; and
-immediately his whole being warmed
-again with the remembrance that his defeat
-meant victory for a life dearer to him
-than his own. When the great bell outside
-had struck two, he crept across the
-room.</p>
-
-<p>"Is she ready, Nora?"</p>
-
-<p>"She is, Hughey."</p>
-
-<p>He stooped to the floor, and gathered
-the drowsy body in his arms. On the
-landing, one floor below, the little sister<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>
-cried aloud. "No, no, no, no!" he
-crooned, in a passion of apprehension:
-"Brother will show Winny the bright
-moon."</p>
-
-<p>They came safely to the street; the
-moon indeed was there, flooding the
-world with splendor. When Nora had
-buttoned Winny's coat, and the boy had
-posted his letters, they took her by either
-hand, and started.</p>
-
-<p>Hughey had planned out his difficult
-campaign to the end, and his brain was
-quiet and clear. Passing through Church
-Street, he raised his hat with reverence,
-as he had always done since he came to
-Dublin, to a blank stone on the south
-side in the ancient yard of Saint Michan's;
-for under that stone, according to a tradition,
-Robert Emmett's sentinel dust reposes.
-There on the old Danish ground,
-at the crisis, Winny's fiery Gaelic temper
-came again to the fore. Struck with the
-solitude and the dark, the dread faces of
-unusual things, and jostled by the wind
-which pounced at her from its corner lair
-on the north bank of the river, she hung
-back and rebelled. "Let me go, let me&mdash;go!
-Hughey! Oh!..." The little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>
-silver lisp arose in very real, in irresistible
-alarm.</p>
-
-<p>Never once, in all his mistaken planning,
-had Hughey paused to consider
-that she had a voice in the matter. If
-she were unwilling to die for his dearest,
-why, what right had he, Hughey,
-though scornful and disappointed because
-of it, to compel her? After all,
-she was only seven, and silly! He
-looked at Nora over the capped head
-between them. Then he fetched a deep,
-deep sigh, and the tears came to his eyelids,
-burned, and dried.</p>
-
-<p>They went on, ever slower; and at
-Richmond Bridge Hughey spoke to
-Winny, as he felt that he could do at
-last, tenderly, and even with humorous
-understanding. "Now 'tis the end o'
-your walk, an' ye'll trot home wid Nora,
-and niver moind me at all, dear. Some
-day she'll be tellin' ye phwhat ye missed."
-But to Nora herself he said softly:</p>
-
-<p>"Take care o' mother, mavourneen."</p>
-
-<p>"Oi will, Hughey."</p>
-
-<p>She kissed him twice; her smooth
-cheek against his was cold as a shell. He
-made a gesture of dismissal, which she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>
-did not disobey; and he watched them go,
-without further sign. The two childish
-figures were swallowed by the blue-black
-shadows, and the pavement under their
-naked feet gave forth no receding sounds.
-Yet Hughey, bereft of them so quickly
-and utterly, listened, listened, tiptoeing to
-the central arch of the bridge.</p>
-
-<p>The autumnal Sabbath breath of the
-slumbering capital floated in a faint white
-mist against the brick and stone. Every
-high point was alive with light: the masts
-in port, the roof of the King's Inns, the
-Park, the top of the Nelson monument,
-the Castle standard, the nigh summits
-of the gracious Wicklow hills. Below
-were the dim line of Liffey bridges, processional
-to the sea, and the sad friendly
-wash of the chilly water. Clear of any
-regret or self-pity, he would have his farewell
-grave and calm, and he would set out
-with the sign of faith. So he knelt down,
-in prayer, for a moment, and with his eyes
-still closed, dropped forward.</p>
-
-<p>In another eternal instant, he came
-into the air. He had a confused sense of
-being glad for Winny, and otherwise quite
-satisfied and thankful. There, next the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>
-wall, was a rotten abandoned raft, a chance
-of life within clutch; he saw it, and
-smiled. Then Hughey sank, and the
-black ebb-tide took him.</p>
-
-<p>Nora's knowledge, meanwhile, was too
-torturing to be borne. No sooner had
-she left her brother than she caught the
-heavy little one into her slight arms, and
-ran. Breathless, and choked with sorrow,
-she told her mother all she knew,
-and roused the Drogans, who in turn
-called up the Smiths, the Fays, the Holahans,
-the McCarthys. From right and
-left the neighbors swarmed forth on a
-vain and too familiar trail: the Spirit of
-Poverty flying unmercifully ever to the
-rescue of her own, she</p>
-
-<blockquote>
-<p>
-&mdash;&mdash;"that would upon the rack of this rough world<br />
-Stretch them out longer."
-</p></blockquote>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Two of Hughey's letters had to go undelivered:
-one belonging to a corporation
-which never existed, and one to a heartbroken
-woman who set sail for the Isles
-of Healing, before the dawn.</p>
-
-
-<p class="center">THE END.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>THIS BOOK HAS BEEN PRINTED DURING<br />
-DECEMBER 1895 BY JOHN WILSON AND<br />
-SON OF CAMBRIDGE MASSACHUSETTS</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p class="center"><strong>FOOTNOTES:</strong></p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Katharine Tynan Hinkson.</p></div></div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="transnote">
-<p class="center"><strong>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:</strong></p>
-
-<p>Obvious spelling and punctuation errors have been standardized.<br />
-<br />
-This eBook is dedicated to the memory of Emmy Miller.</p></div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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