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diff --git a/6012.txt b/6012.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1a72be5 --- /dev/null +++ b/6012.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15285 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Charlemont, by W. Gilmore Simms + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Charlemont + +Author: W. Gilmore Simms + + +Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6012] +This file was first posted on October 16, 2002 +Last Updated: June 20, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHARLEMONT *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + +CHARLEMONT; + +OR, + +THE PRIDE OF THE VILLAGE + +A TALE OF KENTUCKY. + +BY W. GILMORE SIMMS, + + +[Illustration: no caption, but contains the word Charlemont. Two men are +riding a horse and a woman stands nearby.] + + + + + "Nor will I be secure. + In any confidence of mine own strength, + For such security is oft the mother + Of negligence, and that, the occasion + Of unremedy'd ruin." + + Microcosmus--THO. NABBES. + + + + + + +TO THE HON. JAMES HALL, OF CINCINNATI: + +AS ONE OF THE ABLEST OF OUR LITERARY PIONEERS A GENUINE REPRESENTATIVE +OF THE GREAT WEST; + +WHOSE WRITINGS EQUALLY ILLUSTRATE HER HISTORY AND GENIUS: + +this story of "CHARLEMONT," and its Sequel "BEAUCHAMPE" are respectfully +inscribed by + +THEIR AUTHOR + + + + + + +ADVERTISEMENT + + + + + +The domestic legend which follows, is founded upon actual events of +comparatively recent occurrence in the state of Kentucky. However +strange the facts may appear in the sequel--however in conflict with +what are usually supposed to be the sensibilities and characteristics +of woman--they are yet unquestionably true; most of them having been +conclusively established, by the best testimony, before a court +of justice. Very terrible, indeed, was the tragedy to which they +conducted--one that startled the whole country when it took place, and +the mournful interest of which will long be remembered. More on this +subject need not be mentioned here. The narrative, it is hoped, will +satisfy all the curiosity of the reader. It has been very carefully +prepared from and according to the evidence; the art of the romancer +being held in close subjection to the historical authorities. I have +furnished only the necessary details which would fill such blanks in +the story as are of domestic character; taking care that these should +accord, in all cases, with the despotic facts. In respect to these, +I have seldom appealed to invention. It is in the delineation and +development of character, only, that I have made free to furnish scenes, +such as appeared to me calculated to perfect the portraits, and the +better to reconcile the reader to real occurrences, which, in their +original nakedness, however unquestionably true, might incur the risk of +being thought improbabilities. + +The reflections which will be most likely to arise from the perusal of +such a history, lead us to a consideration of the social characteristics +of the time and region, and to a consideration of the facility with +which access to society is afforded by the manners and habits of our +forest population. It is in all newly-settled countries, as among the +rustic population of most nations, that the absence of the compensative +resources of wealth leads to a singular and unreserved freedom among +the people. In this way, society endeavors to find equivalents for those +means of enjoyment which a wealthy people may procure from travel, from +luxury, from the arts, and the thousand comforts of a well-provided +homestead. The population of a frontier country, lacking such resources, +scattered over a large territory, and meeting infrequently, feel the +lack of social intercourse; and this lack tends to break down most +of the barriers which a strict convention usually establishes for +the protection, not only of sex and caste, but of its own tastes and +prejudices. Lacking the resources of superior wealth, population, and +civilization, the frontier people are naturally required to throw the +doors open as widely as possible, in order to obtain that intercourse +with their fellows which is, perhaps, the first great craving of +humanity. As a matter of necessity, there is little discrimination +exercised in the admission of their guests. A specious outside, +agreeable manners, cleverness and good humor, will soon make their way +into confidence, without requiring other guaranties for the moral of the +stranger. The people are naturally frank and hospitable; for the simple +reason that these qualities of character are essential for procuring +them that intercourse which they crave. The habits are accessible, the +restraints few, the sympathies are genial, active, easily aroused, and +very confiding. It follows, naturally, that they are frequently wronged +and outraged, and just as naturally that their resentments are keen, +eager, and vindictive. The self-esteem, if not watchful, is revengeful; +and society sanctions promptly the fierce redress--that wild justice of +revenge--which punishes without appeal to law, with its own right hand, +the treacherous guest who has abused the unsuspecting confidence which +welcomed him to a seat upon the sacred hearth. In this brief portrait +of the morale of society, upon our frontiers, you will find the materiel +from which this story has been drawn, and its justification, as a +correct delineation of border life in one of its more settled phases in +the new states. The social description of Charlemont exhibits, +perhaps, a THIRD advance in our forest civilization, from the original +settlement. + +It is not less the characteristic of these regions to exhibit the +passions and the talents of the people in equal and wonderful saliency. +We are accordingly struck with two classes of social facts, which do not +often arrest the attention in old communities. We see, for example, the +most singular combination of simplicity and sagacity in the same person; +simplicity in conventional respects, and sagacity in all that affects +the absolute and real in life, nature and the human sensibilities. The +rude man, easily imposed upon, in his faith, fierce as an outlaw in +his conflicts with men, will be yet exquisitely alive to the nicest +consciousness of woman; will as delicately appreciate her instincts and +sensibilities, as if love and poetry had been his only tutors from the +first, and had mainly addressed their labors to this one object of the +higher heart, education; and in due degree with the tenderness with +which he will regard the sex, will be the vindictive ferocity with +which--even though no kinsman--he will pursue the offender who has dared +to outrage them in the case of any individual. In due degree as his +faith is easy will his revenges be extreme. In due degree as he is slow +to suspect the wrong-doer, will be the tenacity of his pursuit when +the offender requires punishment. He seems to throw wide his heart and +habitation, but you must beware how you trespass upon the securities of +either. + +The other is a mental characteristic which leads to frequent surprises +among strangers from the distant cities. It consists in the wonderful +inequality between his mental and social development. The same person +who will be regarded as a boor in good society, will yet exhibit +a rapidity and profundity of thought and intelligence--a depth and +soundness of judgment--an acuteness in discrimination--a logical +accuracy, and critical analysis, such as mere good society rarely shows, +and such as books almost as rarely teach. There will be a deficiency +of refinement, taste, art--all that the polished world values so +highly--and which it seems to cherish and encourage to the partial +repudiation of the more essential properties of intellect. However +surprising this characteristic may appear, it may yet be easily +accounted for by the very simplicity of a training which results in +great directness and force of character--a frank heartiness of aim and +object--a truthfulness of object which suffers the thoughts to turn +neither to the right hand nor to the left, but to press forward +decisively to the one object--a determined will, and a restless +instinct--which, conscious of the deficiencies of wealth and position, +is yet perpetually seeking to supply them from the resources within its +reach. These characteristics will be found illustrated in the present +legend, an object which it somewhat contemplates, apart from the mere +story with which they are interwoven. + +A few words more in respect to our heroine, Margaret Cooper. It is our +hope and belief, that she will be found a real character by most of our +readers. She is drawn from the life, and with a severe regard to the +absolute features of the original. In these days of "strong-minded +women," even more certainly than when the portrait was first taken, the +identity of the sketch with its original will be sure of recognition. +Her character and career will illustrate most of the mistakes which are +made by that ambitious class, among the gentler sex, who are now seeking +so earnestly to pass out from that province of humiliation to which the +sex has been circumscribed from the first moment of recorded history. +What she will gain by the motion, if successful, might very well be left +to time, were it not that the proposed change in her condition threatens +fatally some of her own and the best securities of humanity. We may +admit, and cheerfully do so, that she might, with propriety, be allowed +some additional legal privileges of a domestic sort. But the great +object of attainment, which is the more serious need of the sex--her +own more full development as a responsible being--seems mainly to depend +upon herself, and upon self-education. The great first duty of woman +is in her becoming the mother of men; and this duty implies her proper +capacity for the education and training of the young. To fit her +properly for this duty, her education should become more elevated, and +more severe in degree with its elevation. But the argument is one of too +grave, too intricate, and excursive a character, to be attempted here. +It belongs to a very different connection. It is enough, in this place, +to say that Margaret Cooper possesses just the sort of endowment to +make a woman anxious to pass the guardian boundaries which hedge in her +sex--her danger corresponds with her desires. Her securities, with +such endowments, and such a nature, can only be found in a strict and +appropriate education, such as woman seldom receives anywhere, and less, +perhaps, in this country than in any other. To train fully the +feminine mind, without in any degree impairing her susceptibilities and +sensibilities, seems at once the necessity and the difficulty of the +subject. Her very influence over man lies in her sensibilities. It will +be to her a perilous fall from pride of place, and power, when, goaded +by an insane ambition, in the extreme development of her mere intellect, +she shall forfeit a single one of these securities of her sex. + + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE SCENE. + + + + + +The stormy and rugged winds of March were overblown--the first fresh +smiling days of April had come at last--the days of sunshine and shower, +of fitful breezes, the breath of blossoms, and the newly-awakened song +of birds. Spring was there in all the green and glory of her youth, and +the bosom of Kentucky heaved with the prolific burden of the season. She +had come, and her messengers were everywhere, and everywhere busy. The +birds bore her gladsome tidings to + + "Alley green, + Dingle or bushy dell of each wild wood, + And every bosky bourn from side to side--" + +nor were the lately-trodden and seared grasses of the forests left +unnoted; and the humbled flower of the wayside sprang up at her summons. +Like some loyal and devoted people, gathered to hail the approach of a +long-exiled and well-beloved sovereign, they crowded upon the path over +which she came, and yielded themselves with gladness at her feet. The +mingled songs and sounds of their rejoicing might be heard, and far-off +murmurs of gratulation, rising from the distant hollows, or coming +faintly over the hill-tops, in accents not the lees pleasing because +they were the less distinct. That lovely presence which makes every land +blossom, and every living thing rejoice, met, in the happy region in +which we meet her now, a double tribute of honor and rejoicing. + +The "dark and bloody ground," by which mournful epithets Kentucky was +originally known to the Anglo-American, was dark and bloody no longer. +The savage had disappeared from its green forests for ever, and no +longer profaned with slaughter, and his unholy whoop of death, its broad +and beautiful abodes. A newer race had succeeded; and the wilderness, +fulfilling the better destinies of earth, had begun to blossom like the +rose. Conquest had fenced in its sterile borders with a wall of fearless +men, and peace slept everywhere in security among its green recesses. +Stirring industry--the perpetual conqueror--made the woods resound with +the echoes of his biting axe and ringing hammer. Smiling villages rose +in cheerful white, in place of the crumbling and smoky cabins of +the hunter. High and becoming purposes of social life and thoughtful +enterprise superseded that eating and painful decay, which has +terminated in the annihilation of the red man; and which, among every +people, must always result from their refusal to exercise, according +to the decree of experience, no less than Providence, their limbs and +sinews in tasks of well-directed and continual labor. + +A great nation urging on a sleepless war against sloth and feebleness, +is one of the noblest of human spectacles. This warfare was rapidly +and hourly changing the monotony and dreary aspects of rock and forest. +Under the creative hands of art, temples of magnificence rose where the +pines had fallen. Long and lovely vistas were opened through the dark +and hitherto impervious thickets. The city sprang up beside the river, +while hamlets, filled with active hope and cheerful industry, crowded +upon the verdant hill-side, and clustered among innumerable valleys +Grace began to seek out the homes of toil, and taste supplied their +decorations. A purer form of religion hallowed the forest-homes of the +red-man, while expelling for ever the rude divinities of his worship; +and throughout the land, an advent of moral loveliness seemed +approaching, not less grateful to the affections and the mind, than +was the beauty of the infant April, to the eye and the heart of the +wanderer. + +But something was still wanting to complete the harmonies of nature, in +the scene upon which we are about to enter. Though the savage had for +ever departed from its limits, the blessings of a perfect civilization +were not yet secured to the new and flourishing regions of Kentucky. +Its morals were still in that fermenting condition which invariably +distinguishes the settlement of every new country by a various and +foreign people. At the distant period of which we write, the population +of Kentucky had not yet become sufficiently stationary to have made +their domestic gods secure, or to have fixed the proper lines and limits +regulating social intercourse and attaching precise standards to human +conduct. The habits and passions of the first settlers--those fearless +pioneers who had struggled foot to foot with the Indian, and lived in +a kindred state of barbarity with him, had not yet ceased to have +influence over the numerous race which followed them. That moral amalgam +which we call society, and which recognises a mutual and perfectly equal +condition of dependence, and a common necessity, as the great cementing +principles of the human family, had not yet taken place; and it was +still too much the custom, in that otherwise lovely region, for the wild +man to revenge his own wrong, and the strong man to commit a greater +with impunity. The repose of social order was not yet secured to the +great mass, covering with its wing, as with a sky that never knew a +cloud, the sweet homes and secure possessions of the unwarlike. The +fierce robber sometimes smote the peaceful traveler upon the highway, +and the wily assassin of reputation, within the limits of the city +barrier, not unfrequently plucked the sweetest rose that ever adorned +the virgin bosom of innocence, and triumphed, without censure, in the +unhallowed spoliation. + +But sometimes there came an avenger;--and the highway robber fell before +the unexpected patriot; and the virgin was avenged by the yet beardless +hero, for the wrong of her cruel seducer. The story which we have to +tell, is of times and of actions such as these. It is a melancholy +narrative--the more melancholy as it is most certainly true. It will not +be told in vain, if the crime which it describes in proper colors, and +the vengeance by which it was followed, and which it equally records, +shall secure the innocent from harm, and discourage the incipient +wrongdoer from his base designs. + + + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE TRAVELLERS. + + + + + +Let the traveller stand with us on the top of this rugged eminence, and +look down upon the scene below. Around us, the hills gather in groups +on every side, a family cluster, each of which wears the same general +likeness to that on which we stand, yet there is no monotony in their +aspect. The axe has not yet deprived them of a single tree, and they +rise up, covered with the honored growth of a thousand summers. But they +seem not half so venerable. They wear, in this invigorating season, +all the green, fresh features of youth and spring. The leaves cover the +rugged Limbs which sustain them, with so much ease and grace, as if for +the first time they were so green and glossy, and as if the impression +should be made more certain and complete, the gusty wind of March has +scattered abroad and borne afar, all the yellow garments of the +vanished winter. The wild flowers begin to flaunt their blue and crimson +draperies about us, as if conscious that they are borne upon the bosom +of undecaying beauty; and the spot so marked and hallowed by each +charming variety of bud and blossom, would seem to have been a selected +dwelling for the queenly Spring herself. + +Man, mindful of those tastes and sensibilities which in great part +constitute his claim to superiority over the brute, has not been +indifferent to the beauties of the place. In the winding hollows of +these hills, beginning at our feet, you see the first signs of as lovely +a little hamlet as ever promised peace to the weary and the discontent. +This is the village of Charlemont. + +A dozen snug and smiling cottages seem to have been dropped in this +natural cup, as if by a spell of magic. They appear, each of them, to +fill a fitted place--not equally distant from, but equally near each +other. Though distinguished, each by an individual feature, there is +yet no great dissimilarity among them. All are small, and none of +them distinguished by architectural pretension. They are now quite as +flourishing as when first built, and their number has had no increase +since the village was first settled. Speculation has not made it +populous and prosperous, by destroying its repose, stifling its +charities, and abridging the sedate habits and comforts of its people. +The houses, though constructed after the fashion of the country, of +heavy and ill-squared logs, roughly hewn, and hastily thrown together, +perhaps by unpractised hands, are yet made cheerful by that tidy +industry which is always sure to make them comfortable also. Trim hedges +that run beside slender white palings, surround and separate them from +each other. Sometimes, as you see, festoons of graceful flowers, and +waving blossoms, distinguish one dwelling from the rest, declaring its +possession of some fair tenant, whose hand and fancy have kept equal +progress with habitual industry; at the same time, some of them appear +entirely without the little garden of flowers and vegetables, which +glimmers and glitters in the rear or front of the greater number. + +Such was Charlemont, at the date of our narrative. But the traveller +would vainly look, now, to find the place as we describe it. The garden +is no longer green with fruits and flowers--the festoons no longer grace +the lowly portals--the white palings are down and blackening in the +gloomy mould--the roofs have fallen, and silence dwells lonely among +the ruins,--the only inhabitant of the place. It has no longer a human +occupant. + +"Something ails it now--the spot is cursed." + +Why this fate has fallen upon so sweet an abiding place--why the +villagers should have deserted a spot, so quiet and so beautiful--it +does not fall within our present purpose to inquire. It was most +probably abandoned--not because of the unfruitfulness of the soil, or +the unhealthiness of the climate--for but few places on the bosom of +the earth, may be found either more fertile, more beautiful, or +more healthful--but in compliance with that feverish restlessness of +mood--that sleepless discontent of temper, which, perhaps, more than +any other quality, is the moral failing in the character of the +Anglo-American. The roving desires of his ancestor, which brought him +across the waters, have been transmitted without diminution--nay, with +large increase--to the son. The creatures of a new condition of things, +and new necessities, our people will follow out their destiny. The +restless energies which distinguish them, are, perhaps, the contemplated +characteristics which Providence has assigned them, in order that they +may the more effectually and soon, bring into the use and occupation of +a yet mightier people, the wilderness of that new world in which their +fortunes have been cast. Generation is but the pioneer of generation, +and the children of millions, more gigantic and powerful than ourselves, +shall yet smile to behold, how feeble was the stroke made by our axe +upon the towering trees of their inheritance. + +It was probably because of this characteristic of our people, that +Charlemont came in time to be deserted. The inhabitants were one day +surprised with tidings of more attractive regions in yet deeper forests, +and grew dissatisfied with their beautiful and secluded valley. Such +is the ready access to the American mind, in its excitable state, of +novelty and sudden impulse, that there needs but few suggestions to +persuade the forester to draw stakes, and remove his tents, where the +signs seem to be more numerous of sweeter waters and more prolific +fields. For a time, change has the power which nature does not often +exercise; and under its freshness, the waters DO seem sweeter, and the +stores of the wilderness, the wild-honey and the locust, DO seem more +abundant to the lip and eye. + +Where our cottagers went, and under what delusion, are utterly unknown +to us; nor is it important to our narrative that we should inquire. Our +knowledge of them is only desirable, while they were in the flourishing +condition in which they have been seen. It is our trust that the +novelty which seduced them from their homes, did not fail them in its +promises--that they may never have found, in all their wanderings, a +less lovely abiding-place, than that which they abandoned. But change +has its bitter, as well as its sweet, and the fear is strong that the +cottagers of Charlemont, in the weary hours, when life's winter +is approaching, will still and vainly sigh after the once-despised +enjoyments of their deserted hamlet. + +It was toward the close of one of those bright, tearful days in +April, of which we have briefly spoken, when a couple of travellers on +horseback, ascended the last hill looking down upon Charlemont. One of +these travellers had passed the middle period of life; the other was, +perhaps, just about to enter upon its heavy responsibilities, and more +active duties. The first wore the countenance of one who had borne many +sorrows, and borne them with that resignation, which, while it proves +the wisdom of the sufferer, is at the same time, calculated to increase +his benevolence. The expression of his eye, was full of kindness and +benignity, while that of his mouth, with equal force, was indicative +of a melancholy, as constant as it was gentle and unobtrusive. A feeble +smile played over his lips while he spoke, that increased the sadness +which it softened; as the faint glimmer of the evening sunlight, upon +the yellow leaves of autumn, heightens the solemn tones in the rich +coloring of the still decaying forest. + +The face of his companion, in many of its features, was in direct +contrast with his own. It was well formed, and, to the casual glance, +seemed no less handsome than intellectual. There was much in it to win +the regard of the young and superficial. An eye that sparkled with fire, +a mouth that glowed with animation--cheeks warmly colored, and a contour +full of vivacity, seemed to denote properties of mind and heart equally +valuable and attractive. Still, a keen observer would have found +something sinister, in the upward glancing of the eye, at intervals, +from the half-closed lids; and, at such moments, there was a curling +contempt upon the lips, which seemed to denote a cynical and sarcastic +turn of mind. A restless movement of the same features seemed equally +significant of caprice of character, and a flexibility of moral; while +the chin narrowed too suddenly and became too sharp at the extremity, to +persuade a thorough physiognomist, that the owner could be either very +noble in his aims, or very generous in his sentiments. But as these +outward tokens can not well be considered authority in the work of +judgment, let events, which speak for themselves, determine the true +character of our travellers. + +They had reached the table land of the heights which looked down upon +Charlemont, at a moment when the beauty of the scene could scarcely fail +to impress itself upon the most indifferent observer. The elder of the +travellers, who happened to be in advance, was immediately arrested by +it; and, staying the progress of his horse, with hand lifted above +his eye, looked around him with a delight which expressed itself in an +abrupt ejaculation, and brought his companion to his side. The sun had +just reached that point in his descent, which enabled him to level a +shaft of rosy light from the pinnacle of the opposite hill, into the +valley below, where it rested among the roofs of two of the cottages, +which arose directly in its path. The occupants of these two cottages +had come forth, as it were, in answer to the summons; and old and young, +to the number of ten or a dozen persons, had met, in the winding pathway +between, which led through the valley, and in front of every cottage +which it contained. The elder of the cottagers sat upon the huge trunk +of a tree, which had been felled beside the road, for the greater +convenience of the traveller; and with eyes turned in the direction of +the hill on which the sunlight had sunk and appeared to slumber, seemed +to enjoy the vision with no less pleasure than our senior traveller. +Two tall damsels of sixteen, accompanied by a young man something older, +were strolling off in the direction of the woods; while five or six +chubby girls and boys were making the echoes leap and dance along the +hills, in the clamorous delight which they felt in their innocent but +stirring exercises. The whole scene was warmed with the equal brightness +of the natural and the human sun. Beauty was in the sky, and its +semblance, at least, was on the earth. God was in the heavens, and in +his presence could there be other than peace and harmony among men! + +"How beautiful!" exclaimed the elder of our travellers--"could +anything be more so! How pure, how peaceful! See, Warham, how soft, how +spirit-like, that light lies along the hill-side, and how distinct, yet +how delicate, is the train which glides from it down the valley, even +to the white dwellings at its bottom, from which it seems to shrink and +tremble as if half conscious of intrusion. And yet the picture below +is kindred with it. That, now, is a scene that I delight in--it is a +constant picture in my mind. There is peace in that valley, if there +be peace anywhere on earth. The old men sit before the door, and +contemplate with mingled feelings of pride and pleasure, the vigorous +growth of their children. They behold in them their own immortality, +even upon earth. The young will preserve their memories, and transmit +their names to other children yet unborn; and how must such a reflection +reconcile them to their own time of departure, not unfitly shown in the +last smiles of that sunlight, which they are so soon about to lose. Like +him, they look with benevolence and love upon the world from which they +will soon depart." + +"Take my word for it, uncle, they will postpone their departure to the +last possible moment, and, so far from looking with smiles upon what +they are about to leave for ever, they will leave it with very great +reluctance, and in monstrous bad humor. As for regarding their children +with any such notions as those you dwell upon with such poetical +raptures, they will infinitely prefer transmitting for themselves their +names and qualities to the very end of the chapter. Ask any one of them +the question now, and he will tell you that an immortality, each, in his +own wig-wam, and with his weight of years and infirmity upon him, would +satisfy all his expectations. If they look at the vigor of their young, +it is to recollect that they themselves once were so, and to repine at +the recollection. Take my word for it, there is not a dad among them, +that does not envy his own son the excellence of his limbs, and the long +time of exercise and enjoyment which they seemingly assure him." + +"Impossible!" exclaimed the elder of the two travellers. "Impossible! I +should be sorry to think as you do. But you, Warham, can not understand +these things. You are an habitual unbeliever--the most unfortunate of +all mankind." + +"The most fortunate, rather. I have but few burdens of credulity to +carry. The stars be blessed, my articles of faith are neither very many +nor very cumbrous. I should be sorry if my clients were so few." + +"I should be sorry, Warham, if I had so little feeling as yourself." + +"And I should be still more sorry, uncle, if I had half so much. Why, +sir, yours is in such excess, that you continually mistake the joys +and sorrows of other people for your own. You laugh and weep with them +alternately; and, until all's done and over, you never seem to discover +that the business was none of yours;--that you had none of the pleasure +which made you laugh, and might have been spared all the unnecessary +suffering which moved your tears. 'Pon my soul, sir, you pass a most +unprofitable life." + +"You mistake, Warham, I have shared both; and my profits have been +equally great from both sources. My susceptibility has been an exceeding +great gain to me, and has quickened all my senses. There is a joy of +grief, you know, according to Ossian." + +"Nay, if you quote Ossian, uncle. I give you up. I don't believe in +Ossian, and his raving stuff always sickens me." + +"I sometimes think, Warham," said the uncle, good naturedly, "that +Providence has denied you some of the more human faculties. Nay, I fear +that you are partially deficient in some of the senses. Do you see that +sunlight to which I point--there, on the hill-side, a sort of rosy haze, +which seems to me eminently beautiful?" + +"Yes, sir; and, if you will suffer me, I will get out of its reach as +quickly as possible. I have been half blinded by it ever since you found +it so beautiful. Sunlight is, I think, of very little importance to +professional men, unless as a substitute for candles, and then it should +come over the left shoulder, if you would not have it endanger the +sight. Nay, I will go farther, and confess that it is better than +candlelight, and certainly far less expensive. Shall we go forward, +sir?" + +"Warham," said the uncle, with increasing gravity, "I should be sorry to +believe that a habit of speech so irreverential, springs from anything +but an ambition for saying smart things, and strange things, which are +not always smart. It would give me great pain to think that you were +devoid of any of those sensibilities which soften the hearts of other +men, and lead them to generous impulses." + +"Nay, be not harsh, uncle. You should know me better. I trust my +sensibilities, and senses too, may be sufficient for all proper +purposes, when the proper time comes for their employment; but I can't +flame up at every sunbeam, and grow enthusiastic in the contemplation of +Bill Johnson's cottage, and Richard Higgins's hedgerow. A turnip-patch +never yet could waken my enthusiasm, and I do believe, sir--I confess it +with some shame and a slight misgiving, lest my admissions should give +you pain--that my fancy has never been half so greatly enkindled by +Carthula, of the bending spear, or Morven of the winds, as by the sedate +and homely aspect of an ordinary dish of eggs and bacon, hot from the +flaming frying-pan of some worthy housewife." + +The uncle simply looked upon the speaker, but without answering. He was +probably quite too much accustomed to his modes of thought and speech to +be so much surprised as annoyed by what he said. Perhaps, too, his own +benevolence of spirit interfered to save the nephew from that harsher +rebuke which his judgment might yet have very well disposed him to +bestow. + +Following the course of the latter in silence, he descended into the +valley, and soon made his way among the sweet little cottages at +its foot. An interchange of courtsies between the travellers and the +villagers whose presence had given occasion to some portion of the +previous dialogue, in which the manner of the younger traveller was +civil, and that of the elder kind; and the two continued on their +journey, though not without being compelled to refuse sundry +invitations, given with true patriarchal hospitality, to remain among +the quiet abodes through which they passed. + +As cottage after cottage unfolded itself to their eyes, along the +winding avenue, the proprietors appeared at door and window, and, with +the simple freedoms of rural life, welcomed the strangers with a +smile, a nod, and sometimes, when sufficiently nigh, a friendly word +of salutation, but without having the effect of arresting their onward +progress. Yet many a backward glance was sent by the elder of the +travellers, whose eyes, beaming with satisfaction, sufficiently declared +the delight which he received from the contemplation of so many of the +mingled graces of physical and moral nature. His loitering steps drew +from his young companion an occasional remark, which, to ears less +benevolent and unsuspecting than than those of the senior, might have +been deemed a sarcasm; and more than once the lips of the nephew had +curled with contemptuous smiles, as he watched the yearning glances of +his uncle on each side of the avenue, as they wended slowly through it. + +At the end of the village, and at the foot of the opposite hills, they +encountered a group of young people of both sexes, whose bursts of +merriment were suddenly restrained as they emerged unexpectedly into +sight. The girls had been sitting upon the grassy mead, with the young +men before them; but they started to their feet at the sound of strange +steps, and the look of strange faces. Charlemont, it must be remembered, +was not in the thoroughfare of common travel. If visited at all by +strangers, it was most usually by those only who came with a single +purpose. Nothing, therefore could have been more calculated to surprise +a community so insulated, than that they should attract, but not arrest +the traveller. The natural surprise which the young people felt, when +unexpectedly encountered in their rustic sports, was naturally increased +by this unusual circumstance, and they looked after the departing forms +of the wayfarers with a wonder and curiosity that kept them for some +time silent. The elder of the two, meanwhile--one of whose habits of +mind was always to give instantaneous utterance to the feeling which was +upper-most--dilated, without heeding the sneers of his nephew, upon the +apparent happiness which they witnessed. + +"Here, you see, Warham, is a pleasure which the great city never +knows:--the free intercourse of the sexes in all those natural exercises +which give health to the body, grace to the movement, and vivacity to +the manners." + +"The health will do well enough," replied the skeptic, "but save me from +the grace of Hob and Hinney; and as for their manners--did I hear you +correctly, uncle, when you spoke of their manners?" + +"Surely, you did. I have always regarded the natural manners which +belong to the life of the forester, as being infinitely more noble, as +well as more graceful, than those of the citizen. Where did you ever +see a tradesman whose bearing was not mean compared with that of the +hunter?" + +"Ay, but these are no hunters, and scarcely foresters. I see not a +single Nimrod among the lads; and as for the lasses, even your eyes, +indulgent as they usually are, will scarcely venture to insist that I +shall behold one nymph among them worthy to tie the shoe-latchets of +Diana. The manners of the hunter are those of an elastic savage; but +these lads shear sheep, raise hogs for the slaughter-pen, and seldom +perform a nobler feat than felling a bullock. They have none of the +elasticity which, coupled with strength, makes the grace of the man; +and they walk as if perpetually in the faith that their corn-rows and +potatoe-hills were between their legs." + +"Did you note the young woman in the crimson body Warham? Was she not +majestically made?" + +"It struck me she would weigh against any two of the company." + +"She is rather heavy, I grant you, but her carriage, Warham!" + +"Would carry weight--nothing more." + +"There was one little girl, just rising into womanhood:--you must admit +that she had a very lovely face, and her form--" + +"My dear uncle, what is it that you will not desire me to believe? You +are sadly given to proselytism, and take infinite pains to compel me +to see with eyes that never do their owner so much wrong, as when +they reject the aid of spectacles. How much would Charlemont and its +inhabitants differ to your sight, were you only to take your green +spectacles from the shagreen case in which they do no duty. But if you +are resolved, in order to seem youthful, to let your age go unprovided +with the means of seeing as youth would see, at least suffer me to enjoy +the natural privileges of twenty-five. When, like you, my hairs whiten, +and my eyes grow feeble, ten to one, I shall think with you that every +third woodman is an Apollo, and every other peasant-girl is a Venus, +whom--" + +The words of the speaker ceased--cut short by the sudden appearance of a +form and face, the beauty and dignity of which silenced the skeptic, and +made him doubtful, for the moment, whether he had not in reality reached +that period of confused and confounding vision, which, as he alleged to +be the case with his uncle, loses all power of discrimination. A maiden +stood before him--tall, erect, majestic--beautiful after no ordinary +standard of beauty. She was a brunette, with large dark eyes, which, +though bright, seemed dark with excess of bright--and had a depth of +expression which thrilled instantly through the bosom of the spectator. +A single glance did she bestow upon the travellers, while she +acknowledged, by a slight courtesy, the respectful bow which they made +her. They drew up their horses as with mutual instinct, but she passed +them quickly, courtesying a second time as she did so, and, in another +moment a turn of the road concealed her from the eyes of the travellers. + +"What say you to that, Warham?" demanded the senior exultingly. + +"A Diana, in truth; but, uncle, we find her not among the rest. SHE is +none of your cottagers. SHE is of another world and element. She is no +Charlemonter." + +And, as he spoke, the younger traveller looked back with straining eyes +to catch another glance of the vanished object, but in vain. + +"You deserve never to see a lovely woman again, Warham, for your +skepticism." + +"But I will have a second look at her, uncle, though the skies fall," +answered the young man, as, wheeling his horse round, he deliberately +galloped back to the bend in the avenue, by which she had been hidden +from his view. + +He had scarcely reached the desired point, when he suddenly recoiled +to find the object of his pursuit standing motionless just beyond, with +eyes averted to the backward path--her glance consequently encountering +his own, the very moment when he discovered her. A deep crimson, visible +even where he stood, suffused her cheeks when she beheld him; and +without acknowledging the second bow which the traveller made, she +somewhat haughtily averted her head with a suddenness which shook her +long and raven tresses entirely free of the net-work which confined +them. + +"A proud gipsy!" muttered the youth as he rode back to his uncle--"just +such a spirit as I should like to tame." He took especial care, however, +that this sentiment did not reach the ears of his senior. + +"Well?" said the latter, inquiringly, at his approach. + +"I am right after all, uncle:--the wench is no better than the rest. A +heavy bulk that seemed dignified only because she is too fat for levity. +She walks like a blind plough-horse in a broken pasture, up and down, +over and over; with a gait as rigid and deliberate as if she trod +among the hot cinders, and had corns on all her toes. She took us so by +surprise that if we had not thought her beautiful we must have thought +her ugly, and the chances are equal, that, on a second meeting, we shall +both think her so. I shall, I'm certain, and you must, provided you give +your eyes the benefit, and your nose the burden of your green specs." + +"Impossible! I can scarce believe it, Warham," replied the senior. "I +thought her very beautiful." + +"I shall never rely on your judgment again;--nay, uncle, I am almost +inclined to suspect your taste." + +"Well, let them be beautiful or ugly, still I should think the same of +the beauty of this village." + +"While the sun shines it may be tolerable; but, uncle, in wet bad +weather--it must become a mere pond, it lies so completely in the hollow +of the hills." + +"There is reason in that, Warham." + +"And yet, even as a pond, it would have its advantages--it would be +famous for duck-raising." + +"Pshaw! you are worse than a Mahometan." + +"Something of a just comparison, uncle, though scarcely aimed," said +the other; "like Mahomet, you know, I doubt the possession of souls by +women." + +"Yet if these of Charlemont have not souls, they have no small share of +happiness on earth. I never heard more happy laughter from human lips +than from theirs. They must be happy." + +"I doubt that also," was the reply. "See you not, uncle, that to nine or +ten women there are but three lads? Where the disproportion is so great +among the sexes, and where it is so unfavorable to the weaker, women +never can be happy. Their whole lives will be lives of turmoil, +jealousy, and pulling of caps. Nay, eyes shall not be secure under such +circumstances; and Nan's fingers shall be in Doll's hair, and Doll's +claws in Nanny's cheeks, whenever it shall so happen, that Tom Jenkins +shall incline to Nan, or John Dobbins to Doll. Such a disparity between +the sexes is one of the most fruitful causes of domestic war." + +"Warham, where do you think to go when you die?" + +"Where there shall be no great inequality in the population. Believe me, +uncle, though I am sometimes disposed to think with Mahomet, and deny +the possession of souls to the sex, I also incline to believe, with +other more charitable teachers--however difficult it may be to reconcile +the two philosophies--that there will be no lack of them in either +world." + +"Hush, hush, Warham," was the mild rebuke of the senior; "you go too +far--you are irreverent. As for this maiden, I still think her +very beautiful--of a high and noble kind of beauty. My eyes may be +bad;--indeed I am willing to admit they are none of the best; but I feel +certain that they cannot so far deceive me, when we consider how nigh we +were to her." + +"The matter deserves inquiry, uncle, if it were only to satisfy +your faith;--suppose we ride back, both of us, and see for +ourselves--closely, and with the aid of the green spectacles? Not that +I care to see farther--not that I have any doubts--but I wish you to +be convinced in this case, if only to make you sensible of the frequent +injustice to which your indulgence of judgment, subjects the critical +fastidiousness of mine. What say you; shall we wheel about?" + +"Why, you are mad, surely. It is now sunset, and we have a good eight +miles before we get to Holme's Station." + +"But we can sleep in Charlemont to-night. A night in this earthly +Eden--" + +"And run the risk of losing our company? Oh, no, most worthy nephew. +They will start at dawn to-morrow." + +"We can soon come up with 'em." + +"Perhaps not, and the risk is considerable. Travelling to the +Mississippi is no such small matter at any time, and, in these times +it is only with a multitude, that there is safety. The murder of old +Whiteford, is a sufficient warning not to go alone with more gold than +lead in one's pocket. We are two, it is true, but better ten than two. +You are a brave fellow enough, Warham, I doubt not; but a shot will +dispose of you, and after that I should be an easy victim. I could wink +and hold out my iron as well as the best of you, but I prefer to escape +the necessity. Let us mend our pace. We are burning daylight." + +The nephew, with an air of some impatience, which, however, escaped the +eyes of the senior, sent his horse forward by a sharp application of his +spur, though looking back the while, with a glance of reluctance, which +strongly disagreed with the sentiments which he expressed. Indeed, +with both the travellers, the impression made by the little village +of Charlemont was such that the subject seemed nowise displeasing to +either, and furnished the chief staple of conversation between them, +as they rode the remaining eight miles of their journey. The old man's +heart had been subdued and won by the sweet air of peace which seemed to +overspread and hallow the soft landscape, and the smiling cottages which +made it human. The laughing maidens with their bright eyes and cheering +accents, gave vivacity to its milder charms. We have heard from the lips +of the younger traveller, that these attractions had failed to captivate +his fancy. We may believe of this as we please. It is very probable that +he had, in considerable part, spoken nothing but the truth. He was too +much of a mocker;--one of those worldlings who derive their pleasures +from circumstances of higher conventional attraction. He had no feeling +for natural romance. His PENCHANT, was decidedly for the artificial +existence of city life; and the sneers which he had been heard +to express at the humble joys of rustic life, its tastes, and +characteristics, were, in truth, only such as he really felt. But, even +in his case, there was an evident disposition to know something more of +Charlemont. He was really willing to return. He renewed the same subject +of conversation, when it happened to flag, with obvious eagerness; +and, though his language was still studiedly disparaging, a more deeply +penetrating judgment than that of his uncle, would have seen that the +little village, slightly as he professed to esteem it, was yet an object +of thought and interest in his eyes. Of the sources of this new interest +time must inform us. + +"Well, well, Warham," at length exclaimed the uncle, in a tone that +seemed meant to close the discussion of a topic which his nephew now +appeared mischievously bent to thrust upon him, "you will return to +Kentucky in the fall. Take Charlemont in your route. Stop a week there. +It will do you no harm. Possibly you may procure some clients--may, +indeed, include it in your tour of practice--at all events, you will not +be unprofitably employed if you come to see the village and the people +with MY eyes, which, I doubt not, you will in time." + +"In time, perhaps, I may. It is well that you do not insist upon any +hurried convictions. Were I at your years uncle mine," continued the +other irreverently, "I should no doubt see with your eyes, and possibly +feel with your desires. Then, no doubt, I shall acquire a taste for +warmingpans and nightcaps--shall look for landscapes rather than +lands--shall see nothing but innocence among the young, and resignation +and religion among the old; and fancy, in every aged pair of bumpkins +that I see, a Darby and Joan, with perpetual peace at their fireside, +though they may both happen to lie there drunk on apple-brandy. Between +caudle-cups and 'John Anderson, my Jo-John,' it is my hope to pass the +evening of my days with a tolerable grace, and leave behind me some +comely representatives, who shall take up the burden of the ditty where +I leave off. On this head be sure you shall have no cause to complain of +me. I shall be no Malthusian, as you certainly have shown yourself. It +is the strangest thing to me, uncle, that, with all your SPOKEN rapture +for the sex, you should never have thought of securing for yourself at +least one among the crowd which you so indiscriminately admire. Surely, +a gentleman of your personal attractions--attractions which seem +resolute to cling to you to the last--could not have found much +difficulty in procuring the damsel he desired! And when, too, your +enthusiasm for the sex is known, one would think it only necessary that +you should fling your handkerchief, to have it greedily grappled by +the fairest of the herd. How is it, uncle--how have you escaped from +them--from yourself?" + +"Pshaw, Warham, you are a fool!" exclaimed the senior, riding forward +with increasing speed. The words were spoken good naturedly, but the +youth had touched a spot, scarcely yet thoroughly scarred over, in the +old man's bosom; and memories, not less painful because they had been +bidden so long, were instantly wakened into fresh and cruel activity. + +It will not diminish the offence of the nephew in the mind of the +reader, when he is told that the youth was not ignorant of the +particular tenderness of his relative in this respect. The gentle nature +of the latter, alone, rescued him from the well-merited reproach of +suffering his habitual levity of mood to prevail in reference to one +whom even he himself was disposed to honor. But few words passed +between the two, ere they reached the place of appointment. The careless +reference of the youth had made the thoughts of the senior active at +the expense of his observation. His eyes were now turned inward; and the +landscape, and the evening sun, which streamed over and hallowed it with +a tender beauty to the last, was as completely hidden from his vision, +as if a veil had been drawn above his sight. The retrospect, indeed, +is ever the old man's landscape; and perhaps, even had he not been so +unkindly driven back to its survey, our aged traveller would have been +reminded of the past in the momently-deepening shadows which the evening +gathered around his path. Twilight is the cherished season for sad +memories, even as the midnight is supposed to be that of guilty ghosts; +and nothing, surely, can be more fitting than that the shadows of former +hopes should revisit us in those hours when the face of nature itself +seems darkening into gloom. + +It was night before the wayfarers reached the appointed baiting place. +There they found their company--a sort of little caravan, such as is +frequent in the history of western emigration--already assembled, and +the supper awaiting them. Let us leave them to its enjoyment, and return +once more to the village of Charlemont. + + + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE STRONG-MINDED WOMAN. + + + + + +The young maiden last met by our travellers, and whose appearance had +so favorably impressed them, had not been altogether uninfluenced by +the encounter. Her spirit was of a musing and perhaps somewhat moody +character, and the little adventure related in our last chapter, had +awakened in her mind a train of vague and purposeless thought, from +which she did not strive to disengage herself. She ceased to pursue the +direct path back to Charlemont, the moment she had persuaded herself +that the strangers had continued on their way; and turning from the +beaten track, she strolled aside, following the route of a brooklet, the +windings of which, as it led her forward, were completely hidden from +the intrusive glance of any casual wayfarer. The prattle of the little +stream as it wound upon its sleepless journey, contributed still more to +strengthen the musings of those vagrant fancies that filled the maiden's +thoughts. + +She sat down upon the prostrate trunk of a tree, and surrendered herself +for a while to their control. Her thoughts were probably of a kind +which, to a certain extent, are commended to every maiden. Among them, +perpetually rose an image of the bold and handsome stranger, whose +impudence, in turning back in pursuit of her, was somewhat qualified by +the complimentary curiosity which such conduct manifested. Predominant +even over this image, however, was the conviction of isolation which +she felt where she was, and the still more painful conviction, that +the future was without promise. Such thoughts and apprehensions may +be natural enough to all young persons of active, earnest nature, not +permitted to perform; but in the bosom of Margaret Cooper they were +particularly so. Her mind was of a masculine and commanding character, +and was ill-satisfied with her position and prospect in Charlemont. A +quiet, obscure village, such as that we have described, held forth no +promise for a spirit so proud, impatient, and ambitious as hers. She +knew the whole extent of knowledge which it contained, and all its +acquisitions and resources--she had sounded its depths, and traced all +its shallows. The young women kept no pace with her own progress--they +were good, silly girls enough--a chattering, playful set, whom small +sports could easily satisfy, and who seemed to have no care, and scarce +a hope, beyond the hilly limits of their homestead; and as for the young +men--they were only suited to the girls, such as they were, and could +never meet the demand of such an intellect as hers. + +This lofty self-estimate, which was in some sense just, necessarily gave +a tone to her language and a coloring to all her thoughts, such as +good sense and amiability should equally strive to suppress and +conceal--unless, as in the case of Margaret Cooper, the individual +herself was without due consciousness of their presence. It had the +effect of discouraging and driving from her side many a good-natured +damsel, who would have loved to condole with her, and might have been +a pleasant companion. The young women regarded her with some dislike in +consequence of her self-imposed isolation--and the young men with some +apprehension. Her very knowledge of books, which infinitely surpassed +that of all her sex within the limits of Charlemont, was also an object +of some alarm. It had been her fortune, whether well or ill may be a +question, to inherit from her father a collection, not well chosen, +upon which her mind had preyed with an appetite as insatiate as it +was undiscriminating. They had taught her many things, but among these +neither wisdom nor patience was included;--and one of the worst lessons +which she had learned, and which they had contributed in some respects +to teach, was discontent with her condition--a discontent which +saddened, if it did not embitter, her present life, while it left the +aspects of the future painfully doubtful, even to her own eye. + +She was fatherless, and had been already taught some of those rude +lessons which painfully teach dependence; but such lessons, which +to most others would have brought submission, only provoked her to +resistance. Her natural impetuosity of disposition, strengthened by +her mother's idolatrous indulgence, increased the haughtiness of her +character; and when, to these influences, we add that her surviving +parent was poor, and suffered from privations which were unfelt by many +of their neighbors, it may be easily conceived that a temper and mind +such as we have described those of Margaret Cooper--ardent, commanding, +and impatient, hourly found occasion, even in the secluded village where +she dwelt, for the exercise of moods equally adverse to propriety and +happiness. Isolated from the world by circumstances, she doubly exiled +herself from its social indulgences, by the tyrannical sway of a +superior will, strengthened and stimulated by an excitable and ever +feverish blood; and, as we find her now, wandering sad and sternly by +the brookside, afar from the sports and humbler sources of happiness, +which gentler moods left open to the rest, so might she customarily be +found, at all hours, when it was not absolutely due to appearances that +she should be seen among the crowds. + +We will not now seek to pursue her musings and trace them out to their +conclusions, nor will it be necessary that we should do more +than indicate their character. That they were sad and solemn as +usual--perhaps humbling--may be gathered from the fact that a big tear +might have been seen, long gathering in her eye;--the next moment she +brushed off the intruder with an impatience of gesture, that plainly +showed how much her proud spirit resented any such intrusion. The tear +dispersed the images which had filled her contemplative mood, and rising +from her sylvan seat, she prepared to move forward, when a voice calling +at some little distance, drew her attention. Giving a hasty glance +in the direction of the sound, she beheld a young man making his way +through the woods, and approaching her with rapid footsteps. His evident +desire to reach her, did not, however, prompt her to any pause in her +own progress; but, as if satisfied with the single glance which she gave +him, and indifferent utterly to his object, she continued on her way, +nor stopped for an instant, nor again looked back, until his salutation, +immediately behind her, compelled her attention and answer. + +"Margaret--Miss Cooper!" said the speaker, who was a young rustic, +probably twenty or twenty-one years of age, of tall, good person, +a handsome face, which was smooth, though of dark complexion, and +lightened by an eye of more than ordinary size and intelligence. His +tones were those of one whose sensibilities were fine and active, and +it would not have called for much keen observation to have seen that his +manner, in approaching and addressing the maiden, was marked with some +little trepidation. She, on the contrary, seemed too familiar with +his homage, or too well satisfied of his inferiority, to deign much +attention to his advances. She answered his salutation coldly, and was +preparing to move forward, when his words again called for her reluctant +notice. + +"I have looked for you, Margaret, full an hour. Mother sent me after you +to beg that you will come there this evening. Old Jenks has come up from +the river, and brought a store of fine things--there's a fiddle for +Ned, and Jason Lightner has a flute, and I--I have a small lot of books, +Margaret, that I think will please you." + +"I thank you, William Hinkley, and thank your mother, but I can not come +this evening." + +"But why not, Margaret?--your mother's coming--she promised for you too, +but I thought you might not get home soon enough to see her, and so I +came out to seek you." + +"I am very sorry you took so much trouble, William, for I cannot come +this evening." + +"But why not, Margaret? You have no other promise to go elsewhere have +you?" + +"None," was the indifferent reply. + +"Then--but, perhaps, you are not well, Margaret?" + +"I am quite well, I thank you, William Hinkley, but I don't feel like +going out this evening. I am not in the humor." + +Already, in the little village of Charlemont, Margaret Cooper was one +of the few who were permitted to indulge in humors, and William Hinkley +learned the reason assigned for her refusal, with an expression of +regret and disappointment, if not of reproach. An estoppel, which +would have been so conclusive in the case of a city courtier, was not +sufficient, however, to satisfy the more frank and direct rustic, and +he proceeded with some new suggestions, in the hope to change her +determination. + +"But you'll be so lonesome at home, Margaret, when your mother's with +us. She'll be gone before you can get back, and--" + +"I'm never lonesome, William, at least I'm never so well content or so +happy as when I'm alone," was the self-satisfactory reply. + +"But that's so strange, Margaret. It's so strange that you should be +different from everybody else. I often wonder at it, Margaret; for I +know none of the other girls but love to be where there's a fiddle, and +where there's pleasant company. It's so pleasant to be where everybody's +pleased; and then, Margaret, where one can talk so well as you, and of +so many subjects, it's a greater wonder still that you should not like +to be among the rest." + +"I do not, however, William," was the answer in more softened tones. +There was something in this speech of her lover, that found its way +through the only accessible avenues of her nature. It was a truth, which +she often repeated to herself with congratulatory pride, that she had +few feelings or desires in common with the crowd. + +"It is my misfortune," she continued, "to care very little for the +pastimes you speak of; and as for the company, I've no doubt it will +be very pleasant for those who go, but to me it will afford very little +pleasure. Your mother must therefore excuse me, William:--I should be a +very dull person among the rest." + +"She will be so very sorry, Margaret--and Ned, whose new fiddle has just +come, and Jason Lightner, with his flute. They all spoke of you and +look for you above all, to hear them this evening. They will be so +disappointed." + +William Hinkley spoke nothing of his own disappointment, but it was +visible enough in his blank countenance, and sufficiently audible in the +undisguised faltering of his accents. + +"I do not think they will be so much disappointed, William Hinkley. +They have no reason to be, as they have no right to look for me in +particular. I have very little acquaintance with the young men you speak +of." + +"Why, Margaret, they live alongside of you--and I'm sure you've met them +a thousand times in company," was the response of the youth, uttered +in tones more earnest than any he had yet employed in the dialogue, and +with something of surprise in his accents. + +"Perhaps so; but that makes them no intimates of mine, William Hinkley. +They may be very good young men, and, indeed, so far as I know, they +really are; but that makes no difference. We find our acquaintances and +our intimates among those who are congenial, who somewhat resemble us in +spirit, feeling, and understanding." + +"Ah, Margaret!" said her rustic companion with a sigh, which amply +testified to the humility of his own self-estimate, and of the decline +of his hope which came with it--"ah, Margaret, if that be the rule, +where are you going to find friends and intimates in Charlemont?" + +"Where!" was the single word spoken by the haughty maiden, as her eye +wandered off to the cold tops of the distant hills along which the +latest rays of falling sunlight, faint and failing, as they fell, +imparted a hue, which though bright, still as it failed to warm, left an +expression of October sadness to the scene, that fitly harmonized with +the chilling mood under which she had spoken throughout the interview. + +"I don't think, Margaret," continued the lover, finding courage as he +continued, "that such a rule is a good one. I know it can't be a good +one for happiness. There's many a person that never will meet his or her +match in this world, in learning and understanding--and if they won't +look on other persons with kindness, because they are not altogether +equal to them, why there's a chance that they'll always be solitary and +sad. It's a real blessing, I believe, to have great sense, but I don't +see, that because one has great sense, that one should not think well +and kindly of those who have little, provided they be good, and are +willing to be friendly. Now, a good heart seems to be the very best +thing that nature can give us; and I know, Margaret, that there's no +two better hearts in all Charlemont--perhaps in all the world, though I +won't say that--than cousin Ned Hinkley, and Jason Lightner, and--" + +"I don't deny their merits and their virtues, and their goodness of +heart, William Hinkley," was the answer of the maiden--"I only say +that the possession of these qualities gives them no right to claim my +sympathies or affection. These claims are only founded upon congeniality +of character and mind, and without this congeniality, there can be no +proper, no lasting intimacy between persons. They no doubt, will find +friends between whom and themselves, this congeniality exists. I, on the +other hand, must be permitted to find mine, after my own ideas, and as I +best can. But if I do not--the want of them gives me no great concern. I +find company enough, and friends enough, even in these woods, to satisfy +the desires of my heart at present; I am not anxious to extend my +acquaintance or increase the number of my intimates." + +William Hinkley, who had become somewhat warmed by the argument, could +have pursued the discussion somewhat further; but the tones and manner +of his companion, to say nothing of her words, counselled him to +forbear. Still, he was not disposed altogether to give up his attempts +to secure her presence for the evening party. + +"But if you don't come for the company, Margaret, recollect the music. +Even if Ned Hinkley was a perfect fool, which he is not, and Jason +Lightner were no better,--nobody can say that they are not good +musicians. Old Squire Bee says there's not in all Kentucky a better +violinist than Ned, and Jason's flute is the sweetest sound that ear +ever listened to along these hills. If you don't care anything for the +players, Margaret, I'm sure you can't be indifferent to their music; and +I know they are anything but indifferent to what you may think about +it. They will play ten times as well if you are there; and I'm sure, +Margaret, I shall be the last"--here the tone of the speaker's voice +audibly faltered--"I shall be the very last to think it sweet if you are +not there." + +But the words and faltering accents of the lover equally failed in +subduing the inflexible, perverse mood of the haughty maiden. Her cold +denial was repeated; and with looks that did not fail to speak the +disappointment of William Hinkley, he attended her back to the village. +Their progress was marked by coldness on the one hand, and decided +sadness on the other. The conversation was carried on in monosyllables +only, on the part of Margaret, while timidity and a painful hesitancy +marked the language of her attendant. But a single passage may be +remembered of all that was said between the two, ere they separated at +the door of the widow Cooper. + +"Did you see the two strangers, Margaret, that passed through Charlemont +this afternoon?" + +The cheeks of the maiden became instantly flushed, and the rapid +utterance of her reply in the affirmative, denoted an emotion which the +jealous instincts of the lover readily perceived. A cold chill, on the +instant, pervaded the veins of the youth; and that night he did not +hear, any more than Margaret Cooper, the music of his friends. He was +present all the time and he answered their inquiries as usual; but his +thoughts were very far distant, and somehow or other, they perpetually +mingled up the image of the young traveller, whom he too had seen, with +that of the proud woman, whom he was not yet sure that he unprofitably +worshipped. + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +SIMPLICITY AND THE SERPENT. + + + + + +The mirth and music of Charlemont were enjoyed by others, but not by +Margaret Cooper. The resolution not to share in the pleasures of the +young around her, which she showed to her rustic lover, was a resolution +firmly persevered in throughout the long summer which followed. Her +wayward mood shut out from her contemplation the only sunshine of the +place; and her heart, brooding over the remote, if not the impossible, +denied itself those joys which were equally available and nigh. Her +lonesome walks became longer in the forests, and later each evening grew +the hour of her return to the village. Her solitude daily increased, as +the youth, who really loved her with all the ardency of a first passion, +and who regarded her at the same time with no little veneration for +those superior gifts of mind and education which, it was the general +conviction in Charlemont, that she possessed, became, at length, +discouraged in a pursuit which hitherto had found nothing but coldness +and repulse. Not that he ceased to love--nay, he did not cease entirely +to hope. What lover ever did? He fondly ascribed to the object of his +affections a waywardness of humor, which he fancied would pass away +after a season, and leave her mind to the influence of a more sober +and wholesome judgment. Perhaps, too, like many other youth in like +circumstances, he did not always see or feel the caprice of which he was +the victim. But for this fortunate blindness, many a fair damsel would +lose her conquest quite as suddenly as it was made. + +But the summer passed away, and the forest put on the sere and sombre +robes of autumn, and yet no visible change--none at least more favorable +to the wishes of William Hinkley--took place in the character and +conduct of the maiden. Her mind, on the contrary, seemed to take +something of its hue from the cold sad tones of the forest. The serious +depth of expression in her dark eyes seemed to deepen yet more, and +become yet more concentrated--their glance acquired a yet keener +intentness--an inflexibility of direction--which suffered them seldom +to turn aside from those moody contemplations, which had made her, for +a long time, infinitely prefer to gaze upon the rocks, and woods, and +waters, than upon the warm and wooing features of humanity. + +At distance the youth watched and sometimes followed her, and when, with +occasional boldness, he would draw nigh to her secret wanderings, a cold +fear filled his heart, and he shrunk back with all the doubt and dread +of some guilty trespasser. But his doubt, and we may add, his dread +also, was soon to cease entirely, in the complete conviction of his +hopelessness. The day and the fate were approaching, in the person of +one, to whom a natural instinct had already taught him to look with +apprehension, and whose very first appearance had inspired him with +antipathy. + +What a strange prescience, in some respects, has the devoted and +watchful heart that loves! William Hinkley, had seen but for a single +instant, the face of that young traveller, who has already been +introduced to us, and that instant was enough to awaken his +dislike--nay, more, his hostility. Yet no villager in Charlemont but +would have told you, that, of all the village, William Hinkley was +the most gentle, the most generous--the very last to be moved by bad +passions, by jealousy or hate. + +The youth whom we have seen going down with his uncle to the great +valley of the Mississippi, was now upon his return. He was now +unaccompanied by the benignant senior with whom we first made his +acquaintance. He had simply attended the old bachelor, from whom he had +considerable expectations, to his plantation, in requital of the spring +visit which the latter had paid to his relatives in Kentucky; and having +spent the summer in the southwest, was about to resume his residence, +and the profession of the law, in that state. We have seen that, however +he might have succeeded in disguising his true feelings from his uncle, +he was not unmoved by the encounter with Margaret Cooper, on the edge +of the village. He now remembered the casual suggestion of the senior, +which concluded their discussion on the subject of her beauty; and he +resolved to go aside from his direct path, and take Charlemont in the +route of his return. Not that he himself needed a second glance to +convince him of that loveliness which, in his wilfulness, he yet denied. +He was free to acknowledge to himself that Margaret Cooper was one of +the noblest and most impressive beauties he had ever seen. The very +scorn that spoke in all her features, the imperious fires that kindled +in her eyes, were better calculated than any more gentle expressions, to +impose upon one who was apt to be skeptical on the subject of ordinary +beauties. The confidence and consciousness of superiority, which too +plainly spoke out in the features of Margaret, seemed to deny to his +mind the privilege of doubting or discussing her charms--a privilege +upon which no one could have been more apt to insist than himself. This +seeming denial, while it suggested to him ideas of novelty, provoked +his curiosity and kindled his pride. The haughty glance with which she +encountered his second approach, aroused his vanity, and a latent desire +arose in his heart, to overcome one who had shown herself so premature +in her defiance. We will not venture to assert that the young traveller +had formed any very deliberate designs of conquest, but, it may be +said, as well here as elsewhere, that his self-esteem was great; and +accustomed to easy conquests among the sex, in the region where he +dwelt, it was only necessary to inflame his vanity, to stimulate him to +the exercise of all his arts. + +It was about noon, on one of those bright, balmy days, early in October, +when "the bridal of the earth and sky," in the language of the good +old Herbert, is going on--when, the summer heats subdued, there is +yet nothing either cold, or repulsive in the atmosphere; and the soft +breathing from the southwest has just power enough to stir the flowers +and disperse their scents; that our young traveller was joined in +his progress towards Charlemont, by a person mounted like himself and +pursuing a similar direction. + +At the first glance the youth distinguished him as one of the homely +forest preachers of the methodist persuasion, who are the chief agents +and pioneers of religion in most of the western woods. His plain, +unstudied garments all of black, rigid and unfashionable; his pale, +demure features, and the general humility of his air and gesture, left +our young skeptic little reason to doubt of this; and when the other +expressed his satisfaction at meeting with a companion at last, after a +long and weary ride without one, the tone of his expressions, the use of +biblical phraseology, and the monotonous solemnity of his tones, reduced +the doubts of the youth to absolute certainty. At first, with the +habitual levity of the young and skeptical, he congratulated himself +upon an encounter which promised to afford him a good subject for +quizzing; but a moment's reflection counselled him to a more worldly +policy, and he restrained his natural impulse in order that he might +first sound the depths of the preacher, and learn in what respect he +might be made subservient to his own purposes. He had already learned +from the latter that he was on his way to Charlemont, of which place he +seemed to have some knowledge; and the youth, in an instant, conceived +the possibility of making him useful in procuring for himself a +favorable introduction to the place. With this thought, he assumed the +grave aspect and deliberate enunciation of his companion, expressed +himself equally gratified to meet with a person who, if he did not much +mistake, was a divine, and concluded his address by the utterance of one +of those pious commonplaces which are of sufficiently easy acquisition, +and which at once secured him the unscrupulous confidence of his +companion. + +"Truly, it gladdens me, sir," said the holy man in reply, "to meet with +one, as a fellow-traveller in these lonesome ways, who hath a knowledge +of God's grace and the blessings which he daily sheddeth, even as the +falling of the dews, upon a benighted land. It is my lot, and I repine +not that such it is, to be for ever a wayfarer, in the desert where +there are but few fountains to refresh the spirit. When I say desert, +young gentleman, I speak not in the literal language of the world, +for truly it were a most sinful denial of God's bounty were I to say, +looking round upon the mighty forests through which I pass, and upon the +rich soil over which I travel, that my way lies not through a country +covered, thrice covered, with the best worldly bounties of the Lord. But +it is a moral desert which my speech would signify. The soul of man is +here lacking the blessed fountains of the truth--the mind of man here +lacketh the holy and joy-shedding lights of the spirit; and it rejoiceth +me, therefore, when I meet with one, like thyself, in whose language I +find a proof that thou hast neither heard the word with idle ears, nor +treasured it in thy memory with unapplying mind. May I ask of thee, my +young friend, who thou art, and by what name I shall call thee?--not for +the satisfaction of an idle curiosity, to know either thy profession +or thy private concerns, but that I may the better speak to thee in +our conference hereafter, Thou hast rightly conjectured as to my +calling--and my own name, which is one unknown to most even in these +forests, is John Cross--I come of a family in North Carolina, which +still abide in that state, by the waters of the river Haw. Perhaps, if +thou hast ever travelled in those parts, thou hast happened upon some of +my kindred, which are very numerous." + +"I have never, reverend sir, travelled in those parts," said the youth, +with commendable gravity, "but I have heard of the Cross family, which I +believe, as you say, to be very numerous--both male and female." + +"Yea, I have brothers and sisters an equal number; I have aunts and +uncles a store, and it has been the blessing of God so to multiply and +increase every member thereof, that each of my brothers, in turn, hath +a goodly flock, in testimony of his favors. I, alone, of all my kindred, +have neither wife nor child, and I seem as one set apart for other ties, +and other purposes." + +"Ah, sir," returned the other, quickly, and with a slyness of expression +which escaped the direct and unsuspecting mind of the preacher, "but if +you are denied the blessings which are theirs, you have your part in the +great family of the world. If you have neither wife nor child of your +own loins, yet, I trust, you have an abiding interest in the wives and +children of all other men." + +"I were but an unworthy teacher of the blessed word, had I not," was the +simple answer. "Verily, all that I teach are my children; there is not +one crying to me for help, to whom I do not hasten with the speed of a +father flying to bring succor to his young. I trust in God, that I have +not made a difference between them; that I heed not one to the forfeit +or suffering of the other; and for this impartial spirit toward the +flock intrusted to my charge, do I pray, as well as for the needful +strength of body and soul, through which my duties are to be done. But +thou hast not yet spoken thy name, or my ears have failed to receive +it." + +There was some little hesitation on the part of the youth before he +answered this second application; and a less unheeding observer than his +fellow-traveller, might have noticed an increasing warmth of hue upon +his cheek, while he was uttering his reply:-- + +"I am called Alfred Stevens," he replied at length, the color increasing +upon his cheek even after the words were spoken. But they were spoken. +The falsehood was registered against him beyond recall, though, of +course, without startling the doubts or suspicions of his companion. + +"Alfred Stevens; there are many Stevenses: I have known several and +sundry. There is a worthy family of that name by the waters of the Dan." + +"You will find them, I suspect, from Dan to Beersheba," responded the +youth with a resumption of his former levity. + +"Truly, it may be so. The name is of good repute. But what is thy +calling, Alfred Stevens? Methinks at thy age thou shouldst have one." + +"So I have, reverend sir," replied the other; "my calling heretofore has +been that of the law. But it likes me not, and I think soon to give it +up." + +"Thou wilt take to some other then. What other hast thou chosen; or art +thou like those unhappy youths, by far too many in our blessed country, +whom fortune hath hurt by her gifts, and beguiled into idleness and +sloth?" + +"Nay, not so, reverend sir; the gifts of fortune have been somewhat +sparing in my case, and I am even now conferring with my own thoughts +whether or not to take to school-keeping. Nay, perhaps, I should incline +to something better, if I could succeed in persuading myself of my own +worthiness in a vocation which, more than all others, demands a pure +mind with a becoming zeal. The law consorts not with my desires--it +teaches selfishness, rather than self-denial; and I have already found +that some of its duties demand the blindness and the silence of that +best teacher from within, the watchful and unsleeping conscience." + +"Thou hast said rightly, Alfred Stevens; I have long thought that the +profession of the law hardeneth the heart, and blindeth the conscience. +Thou wilt do well to leave it, as a craft that leads to sin, and makes +the exercise of sin a duty; and if, as I rightly understand thee, thou +lookest to the gospel as that higher vocation for which thy spirit +yearneth, then would I say to thee, arise, and gird up thy loins; +advance and falter not;--the field is open, and though the victory +brings thee no worldly profit, and but little worldly honor, yet the +reward is eternal, and the interest thereof, unlike the money which thou +puttest out to usury in the hands of men, never fails to be paid, at the +very hour of its due, from the unfailing treasury of Heaven. Verily, I +rejoice, Alfred Stevens, that I have met with thee to-day. I had feared +that the day had been lost to that goodly labor, to which all my days +have been given for seventeen years, come the first sabbath in the next +November. But what thou hast said, awakens hope in my soul that such +will not be the case. Let not my counsels fail thee, Alfred;--let thy +zeal warm; let thy spirit work within thee, and thy words kindle, in the +service of the Lord. How it will rejoice me to see thee taking up +the scrip and the staff and setting forth for the wildernesses of the +Mississippi, of Arkansas, and Texas, far beyond;--bringing the wild man +of the frontier, and the red savage, into the blessed fold and constant +company of the Lord Jesus, to whom all praise!" + +"It were indeed a glorious service," responded the young stranger--whom +we shall proceed, hereafter, to designate by the name by which he +has called himself. He spoke musingly, and with a gravity that was +singularly inflexible--"it were indeed a glorious service. Let me see, +there were thousands of miles to traverse before one might reach the +lower Arkansas; and I reckon, Mr. Cross, the roads are mighty bad after +you pass the Mississippi--nay, even in the Mississippi, through a part +of which territory I have gone only this last summer, there is a sad +want of causeways, and the bridges are exceedingly out of repair. There +is one section of near a hundred miles, which lies between the bluffs +of Ashibiloxi, and the far creek of Catahoula, that was a shame and +reproach to the country and the people thereof. What, then, must be +the condition of the Texas territory, beyond? and, if I err not, the +Cumanchees are a race rather given to destroy than to build up. The +chance is that the traveller in their country might have to swim his +horse over most of the watercourses, and where he found a bridge, it +were perhaps a perilous risk to cross it. Even then he might ride fifty +miles a day, before he should see the smokes which would be a sign of +supper that night." + +"The greater the glory--the greater the glory, Alfred Stevens. The toil +and the peril, the pain and the privation, in a good cause, increase +the merit of the performance in the eyes of the Lord. What matters the +roads and the bridges, the length of the way, or the sometimes lack of +those comforts of the flesh, which are craved only at the expense of the +spirit, and to the great delay of our day of conquest. These wants are +the infirmities of the human, which dissipate and disappear, the more +few they become, and the less pressing in their complaint. Shake thyself +loose from them, Alfred Stevens, and thy way henceforth is perfect +freedom." + +"Alas! this is my very weakness, Mr. Cross:--it was because of these +very infirmities, that I had doubt of my own worthiness to take up the +better vocation which is yet my desire. I am sadly given to hunger and +thirst toward noon and evening; and the travel of a long day makes me so +weary at night, that I should say but a hurried grace before meal, and +make an even more hurried supper after it. Nay, I have not yet been able +to divest myself of a habit which I acquired in my boyhood; and I need +at times, throughout the day, a mouthful of something stronger than mere +animal food, to sustain the fainting and feeble flesh and keep my frame +from utter exhaustion. I dare not go upon the road, even for the brief +journey of a single day, without providing myself beforehand with a +supply of a certain beverage, such as is even now contained within this +vessel, and which is infallible against sinking of the the spirits, +faintings of the frame, disordered nerves, and even against flatulence +and indigestion. If, at any time, thou shouldst suffer from one or +the other of these infirmities, Mr. Cross, be sure there is no better +medicine for their cure than this." + +The speaker drew from his bosom a little flask, such as is sufficiently +well known to most western travellers, which he held on high, and which, +to the unsuspecting eyes of the preacher, contained a couple of gills or +more of a liquid of very innocent complexion. + +"Verily, Alfred Stevens, I do myself suffer from some of the weaknesses +of which thou hast spoken. The sinking of the spirits, and the faintness +of the frame, are but too often the enemies that keep me back from the +plough when I would thereto set my hand; and that same flatulence--" + +"A most frequent disorder in a region where greens and collards form the +largest dishes on the tables of the people," interrupted Stevens, but +without changing a muscle of his countenance. + +"I do believe as thou say'st, Alfred Stevens, that the disorder comes in +great part from that cause, though, still, I have my doubts if it be not +a sort of wind-melancholy, to which people, who preach aloud are greatly +subject. It is in my case almost always associated with a sort of +hoarseness, and the nerves of my frame twitch grievously at the same +periods. If this medicine of thine be sovereign against so cruel an +affliction, I would crave of thee such knowledge as would enable me to +get a large supply of it, that I may overcome a weakness, which, as I +tell thee, oftentimes impairs my ministry, and sometimes makes me wholly +incapable of fervent preaching. Let me smell of it, I pray thee." + +"Nay, taste of it, sir--it is just about the time when I find it +beneficial to partake of it, as a medicine for my own weakness, and +I doubt not, it will have a powerful effect also upon you. A single +draught has been found to relieve the worst case of flatulence and +colic." + +"From colic too, I am also a great sufferer," said the preacher as he +took the flask in his hand, and proceeded to draw the stopper. + +"That is also the child of collards," said Stevens, as he watched with +a quiet and unmoved countenance the proceedings of his simple companion, +who finding some difficulty in drawing the cork, handed it back to the +youth. The latter, more practised, was more successful, and now returned +the open bottle to the preacher. + +"Take from it first, the dose which relieves thee, Alfred Stevens, +that I may know how much will avail in my own case;" and he watched +curiously, while Stevens, applying the flask to his lips, drew from it +a draught, which, in western experience of benefits, would have been +accounted a very moderate potion. This done, he handed it back to his +companion, who, about to follow his example, asked him:-- + +"And by what name, Alfred Stevens, do they call this medicine, the +goodly effect of which thou holdst to be so great?" + +Stevens did not immediately reply--not until the preacher had applied +the bottle to his mouth, and he could see by the distension of his +throat, that he had imbibed a taste, at least, of the highly-lauded +medicine. The utterance then, of the single word--"Brandy"--was +productive of an effect no less ludicrous in the sight of the youth, +than it was distressing to the mind of his worthy companion. The +descending liquor was ejected with desperate effort from the throat +which it had fairly entered--the flask flung from his hands--and with +choking and gurgling accents, startling eyes, and reddening visage, John +Cross turned full upon his fellow-traveller, vainly trying to repeat, +with the accompanying horror of expression which he felt, the single +spellword, which had produced an effect so powerful. + +"Bran--bran--brandy!--Alfred Stevens!--thou hast given me poison--the +soul's poison--the devil's liquor--liquor distilled in the vessels of +eternal sin. Wherefore hast thou done this? Dost thou not know"-- + +"Know--know what, Mr. Cross?" replied Stevens, with all the astonishment +which he could possibly throw into his air, as he descended from his +horse with all haste to recover his flask, and save its remaining +contents from loss. + +"Call me not mister--call me plain John Cross," replied the preacher--in +the midst of a second fit of choking, the result of his vain effort to +disgorge that portion of the pernicious liquid which had irretrievably +descended into his bowels. With a surprise admirably affected, Stevens +approached him. + +"My dear sir--what troubles you?--what can be the matter? What have I +done? What is it you fear?" + +"That infernal draught--that liquor--I have swallowed of it a mouthful. +I feel it in me. The sin be upon thy head, Alfred Stevens--why did you +not tell me, before I drank, that it was the soul's poison?--the poison +that slays more than the sword or the pestilence;--the liquor of the +devil, distilled in the vessels of sin--and sent among men for the +destruction of the soul! I feel it now within me, and it burns--it burns +like the fires of damnation. Is there no water nigh that I may quench +my thirst?--Show me, Alfred Stevens, show me where the cool waters lie, +that I may put out these raging flames." + +"There is a branch, if I mistake not, just above us on the road--I think +I see it glistening among the leaves. Let us ride toward it, sir, and it +will relieve you." + +"Ah, Alfred Stevens, why have you served me thus? Why did you not tell +me?" + +Repeated groans accompanied this apostrophe, and marked every step in +the progress of the preacher to the little rivulet which trickled across +the road. John Cross, descended with the rapidity of one whose hope +hangs upon a minute, and dreads its loss, as equal to the loss of life. +He straddled the stream and thrust his lips into the water, drawing up +a quantity sufficient, in the estimation of Stevens, to have effectually +neutralized the entire contents of his flask. + +"Blessed water! Blessed water! Holiest beverage! Thou art the creation +of the Lord, and, next to the waters of eternal life, his best gift to +undiscerning man. I drink of thee, and I am faint no longer. I rise up, +strong and refreshed! Ah, my young friend, Alfred Stevens, I trust thou +didst not mean me harm in giving me that poisonous liquor?" + +"Far from it, sir, I rather thought to do you a great benefit." + +"How couldst thou think to do me benefit by proffering such poison to my +lips? nay, wherefore dost thou thyself carry it with thee, and why dost +thou drink of it, as if it were something not hurtful as well to the +body as the soul? Take my counsel, I pray thee, Alfred Stevens, and cast +it behind thee for ever. Look not after it when thou dost so, with an +eye of regret lest thou forfeit the merit of thy self-denial. If thou +wouldst pursue the higher vocation of the brethren, thou must seek for +the needful strength from a better and purer spirit. But what unhappy +teacher could have persuaded thee to an indulgence which the good men of +all the churches agree to regard as so deadly?" + +"Nay, Mr. Cross--" + +"John Cross, I pray thee; do I not call thee Alfred Stevens?--Mr. is a +speech of worldly fashion, and becomes not one who should put the world +and its fashions behind him." + +Stevens found it more difficult to comply with this one requisition of +the preacher, than to pursue a long game of artful and complex scheming. +He evaded the difficulty by dropping the name entirely. + +"You are too severe upon brandy, and upon those who use it. Nay, I am +not sure, but you do injustice to those who make it. So far from its +manufacturers being such as you call them, we have unquestionable proof +that they are very worthy people of a distant but a Christian country; +and surely you will not deny that we should find a medicine for our +hurts, and a remedy for our complaints, in a liquor which, perhaps, it +might be sinful to use as an ordinary beverage. Doctors, who have the +care of human life, and whose business and desire it is to preserve it, +nevertheless do sometimes administer poisons to their patients, which +poisons, though deadly at other times, will, in certain diseases and +certain conditions of disease, prove of only and great good." + +"Impossible! I believe it not! I believe not in the good of brandy. It +is hurtful--it is deadly. It has slain its thousands and its tens of +thousands--it is worse than the sword and the summer pestilence. Many a +man have I known to perish from strong drink. In my own parts, upon the +river Haw, in North Carolina state, I have known many. Nay, wherefore +should I spare the truth, Alfred Stevens?--the very father of my own +life, Ezekiel Cross, perished miserably from this burning water of sin. +I will not hear thee speak of it again; and if thou wouldst have me +think of thee with favor, as one hopeful of the service of the brethren, +cast the accursed beverage of Satan from thy hands." + +The youth, without a word, deliberately emptied the contents of his +vessel upon the sands, and the garrulous lips of the preacher poured +forth as great a flood of speech in congratulation, as he had hitherto +bestowed in homily. The good, unsuspecting man, did not perceive that +the liquor thus thrown away, was very small in quantity, and that his +companion, when the flask was emptied, quietly restored it to his bosom. +John Cross had obtained a seeming victory, and did not care to examine +its details. + + + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE SERPENT IN THE GARDEN. + + + + + +The concession made by Stevens, and which had produced an effect so +gratifying upon his companion, was one that involved no sacrifices. +The animal appetite of the young lawyer was, in truth, comparatively +speaking, indifferent to the commodity which he discarded; and even +had it been otherwise, still he was one of those selfish, cool and +calculating persons, who seem by nature to be perfectly able to subdue +the claims of the blood, with great ease, whenever any human or social +policy would appear to render it advisable. The greatest concession +which he made in the transaction, was in his so readily subscribing to +that false logic of the day, which reasons against the use of the gifts +of Providence, because a diseased moral, and a failing education, among +men, sometimes result in their abuse. + +The imperfections of a mode of reasoning so utterly illogical, were +as obvious to the mind of the young lawyer as to anybody else; and +the compliance which he exhibited to a requisition which his own sense +readily assured him was as foolish as it was presumptuous, was as +degrading to his moral character from the hypocrisy which it declared, +as it was happy in reference to the small policy by which he had been +governed. The unsuspecting preacher did not perceive the scornful sneer +which curled his lips and flashed his eyes, by which his own vanity +still asserted itself through the whole proceeding; or he would not have +been so sure that the mantle of grace which he deemed to have surely +fallen upon the shoulders of his companion, was sufficiently large and +sound, to cover the multitude of sins which it yet enabled the wearer, +so far, to conceal. Regarding him with all the favor which one is apt to +feel for the person whom he has plucked as a brand from the burning, the +soul of John Cross warmed to the young sinner; and it required no great +effort of the wily Stevens to win from him the history, not only of all +its own secrets and secret hopes--for these were of but small value in +the eyes of the worldling--but of all those matters which belonged to +the little village to which they were trending, and the unwritten lives +of every dweller in that happy community. + +With all the adroit and circumspect art of the lawyer, sifting the +testimony of the unconscious witness, and worming from his custody those +minor details which seem to the uninitiated so perfectly unimportant to +the great matter immediately in hand--Stevens now propounded his direct +inquiry, and now dropped his seemingly unconsidered insinuation, by +which he drew from the preacher as much as he cared to know of the +rustic lads and lasses of Charlemont. It does not concern our narrative +to render the details thus unfolded to the stranger. And we will content +ourselves, as did the younger of the travellers, who placed himself with +hearty good will at the disposal of the holy man. + +"You shall find for me a place of lodging, Mr. Cross, while it shall +suit me to stay in Charlemont. You have a knowledge of the people, and +of the world, which I possess not; and it will be better that I should +give myself up to your guidance. I know that you will not bring me to +the dwelling of persons not in good repute; and, perhaps, I need not +remind you that my worldly means are small--I must be at little charge +wherever I stop." + +"Ah, Brother Stevens, worldly goods and worldly wealth are no more +needed in Charlemont, than they are necessary to the service of the +blessed Redeemer. With an empty scrip is thy service blest;--God +sees the pure heart through the threadbare garment. I have friends in +Charlemont who will be too happy to receive thee in the name of the +Lord, without money and without price." + +The pride of Stevens, which had not shrunk from hypocrisy and falsehood, +yet recoiled at a suggestion which involved the idea of his pecuniary +dependence upon strangers, and he replied accordingly; though he still +disguised his objections under the precious appearance of a becoming +moral scruple. + +"It will not become me, Mr. Cross, to burden the brethren of the church +for that hospitality which is only due to brethren." + +"But thou art in the way of grace--the light is shining upon thee--the +door is open, and already the voice of the Bridegroom is calling from +within. Thou wilt become a burning and a shining light--and the brethren +of the church will rejoice to hail thee among its chosen. Shall they +hold back their hand when thou art even on the threshold?" + +"But, Mr. Cross--" + +"Call me not Mr., I pray thee. Call me plain John Cross, if it please +thee not yet to apply to me that sweeter term of loving kindness which +the flock of God are happy to use in speech one to another. If thou wilt +call me Brother Cross, my heart shall acknowledge the bonds between us, +and my tongue shall make answer to thine, in like fashion. Oh, Alfred +Stevens, may the light shine soon upon thine eyes, that thou may'st know +for a truth how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in the +peace of of the Lord, and according to his law. I will, with God's +grace, bring thee to this perfect knowledge, for I see the way clear +because of the humility which thou hast already shown, and thy yielding +to the counsels of the teacher. As for what thou sayest about charges to +the brethren, let that give thee no concern. Thou shalt lodge with old +Brother Hinkley, who is the pattern of good things and of, holiness +in Charlemont. His house is more like unto the tent of the patriarch +pitched upon the plain, than the house of the dweller among the cities. +No lock fastens its doors against the stranger; and the heart of the +aged man is even more open than the doorway of his dwelling. He standeth +in the entrance like one looking out for him that cometh, and his first +word to the messenger of God, is 'welcome!' Thou shalt soon see the +truth of what I say to thee, for even now do we look down upon his house +in the very midst of the village." + +If the scruples of Stevens still continued to urge him against +accepting the hospitality of the old patriarch of whom he had received +a description at once just and agreeable, the recollection of the +village-maiden whom he had gone aside from his direct path of travel, +and made some even greater departures from the truth, to see, determined +him at length to waive them; particularly when he ascertained from his +fellow-traveller that he knew of nobody in Charlemont who accommodated +strangers for money. + +Stevens was one of those persons who watch the progress of events, and +he resolved, with a mental reservation--that seems strange enough in the +case of one who had shown so little reluctance to say and do the thing +which he could not maintain or defend--to avail himself of some means +for requiting, to the uttermost farthing, the landlord, to whose +hospitality he might be indebted during his stay in Charlemont. + +Such are the contradictions of character which hourly detect and +describe the mere worldling--the man lacking in all principle, but that +which is subservient to his selfish policy. To accept money or money's +worth from a stranger, seemed mean and humbling to one, who did not +hesitate, in the promotion of a scheme, which, had treachery for its +object, to clothe himself in the garments of deception, and to make +his appearance with a lie festering upon his lips. That evening, Alfred +Stevens became, with his worthier companion, an inmate of the happy +dwelling of William Hinkley, the elder--a venerable, white-headed +father, whose whole life had made him worthy of a far higher eulogium +than that which John Cross had pronounced upon him. + +The delight of the family to see their reverend teacher was heartfelt +and unreserved. A vigorous gripe of the hand, by the elder dragged him +into the house, and a sentence of unusual length, from his better half, +assured him of that welcome which the blunter action of her venerable +husband had already sufficiently declared. Nor was the young adventurer +who accompanied the preacher, suffered to remain long unconsidered. When +John Cross had told them who he was, or rather when he had declared +his spiritual hopes in him--which he did with wonderful unction, in a +breath--the reception of old Hinkley, which had been hospitable enough +before, became warm and benignant; and Brother Stevens already became +the word of salutation, whenever the old people desired to distinguish +their younger guest. + +Brother Stevens, it may be said here, found no difficulty in maintaining +the character he had assumed. He had, in high degree, the great art +of the selfish man, and could, when his game required it, subdue with +little effort, those emotions and impulses, which the frank and ardent +spirit must speak out or die. He went into the house of the hospitable +old man, and into the village of Charlemont, as if he had gone into the +camp of an enemy. He was, indeed, a spy, seeking to discover, not the +poverty, but the richness of the land. His mind, therefore, was like one +who has clothed himself in armor, placed himself in waiting for the foe, +and set all his sentinels on the watch. His caution measured every word +ere it was spoken, every look ere it was shown, every movement ere he +suffered his limbs to make it. The muscles of his face, were each put +under curb and chain--the smiles of the lip and the glances of the eyes, +were all subdued to precision, and permitted to go forth, only under +special guard and restriction. In tone, look, and manner, he strove as +nearly as he might to resemble the worthy but simple-minded man, who had +so readily found a worthy adherent and pupil in him; and his efforts +at deception might be held to be sufficiently successful, if the frank +confiding faith of the aged heads of the Hinkley family be the fitting +test of his experiment. + +With them he was soon perfectly at home--his own carriage seemed to them +wondrously becoming, and the approbation of John Cross was of itself +conclusive. The preacher was the oracle of the family, all of whom were +only too happy of his favor not to make large efforts to be pleased +with those he brought; and in a little while, sitting about the friendly +fireside, the whole party had become as sociable as if they had been +"hail fellow! well met," a thousand years. Two young girls, children +of a relative, and nieces of the venerable elder, had already perched +themselves upon the knee of the stranger, and strove at moments over his +neck and shoulder, without heeding the occasional sugary reproof of +Dame Hinkley, which bade them "let Brother Stevens be;" and, already had +Brother Stevens himself, ventured upon the use of sundry grave saws +from the holy volume, the fruit of early reading and a retentive memory, +which not a little helped to maintain his novel pretensions in the mind +of the brethren, and the worthy teacher, John Cross himself. All things +promised a long duration to a friendship suddenly begun; when William +Hinkley, the younger, a youth already introduced to the reader, made his +appearance within the happy circle. He wore a different aspect from all +the rest as he recognised in the person of Brother Stevens, the handsome +stranger, his antipathy to whom, at a first glance, months before, +seemed almost to have the character of a warning instinct. A nearer +glance did not serve to lessen his hostility. + +Our traveller was to the eye of a lover, one, indeed, who promised +dangerous rivalship, and an intrepid air of confidence which, even his +assumed character could not enable him to disguise from the searching +eyes of jealousy, contributed to strengthen the dislike of the youth +for a person who seemed so perfectly sure of his ground. Still, William +Hinkley behaved as a civil and well-bred youth might be expected +to behave. He did not suffer his antipathy to put on the aspect of +rudeness; he was grave and cold, but respectful; and though he did +not "be-brother" the stranger, he yet studiously subdued his tones to +mildness, when it became necessary, in the course of the evening meal, +that he should address him. Few words, however, were exchanged between +the parties. If Hinkley beheld an enemy to his heart's hopes in Stevens, +the latter was sufficiently well-read in the human heart to discover +quite as soon, that the rustic was prepared to see in himself any +character but that of a friend. The unwillingness with which Hinkley +heard his suggestions--the absence of all freedom and ease in his +deportment, toward himself, so different from the manner of the youth +when speaking or listening to all other persons; the occasional gleam +of jealous inquiry and doubt within his eye, and the utter lack of all +enthusiasm and warmth in his tones while he spoke to him, satisfied +Stevens, that he, of all the household of his hospitable entertainers, +if not actually suspicious of his true character, was the one whose +suspicions were those most easily to be awakened, and who of all others, +needed most to be guarded against. It will not increase our estimate +of the wisdom of the stranger, to learn that, with this conviction, he +should yet arrogate to himself a tone of superiority, while speaking in +hearing of the youth. + +This was shown in a manner that was particularly galling to a +high-spirited youth, and one whose prejudices were already awakened +against the speaker. It was that of a paternal and patronizing senior, +whose very gentleness and benignity of look and accent, seem to arise +from a full conviction of the vast difference which exists between +himself and his hearer. An indignity like this, which can not be +resented, is one which the young mind feels always most anxious to +resent. The very difficulties in the way of doing so, stimulates the +desire. Such was the feeling of William Hinkley. With such a feeling it +may be conjectured that opportunity was not long wanting, or might soon +be made, for giving utterance to the suppressed fires of anger which +were struggling in his heart. Days and weeks may elapse, but the +antipathy will declare itself at last. It would be easier to lock up the +mountain torrent after the breath of the tornado has torn away its rocky +seals, than to stifle in the heart that hates, because of its love, the +fierce fury which these united passions enkindle within it. + +In the first hour of their first interview, William Hinkley and Alfred +Stevens felt that they were mutual foes. In that little space of time, +the former had but one thought, which, though it changed its aspect with +each progressive moment, never for an instant changed its character. He +panted with the hope of redressing himself for wrongs which he could not +name; for injuries and indignities which he knew not how to describe. +Stevens had neither done nor said anything which might be construed into +an offence. And yet, nobody knew better than Stevens that he had been +offensive. The worthy John Cross, in the simplicity of his nature, never +dreamed of this, but, on the contrary, when our adventurer dilated +in the fatherly manner already adverted to, be looked upon himself as +particularly favored of Heaven, in falling upon a youth, as a pupil, of +such unctuous moral delivery. + +"Surely," he mused internally, "this is a becoming instrument which I +have found, for the prosecution of the good work. He will bear the word +like one sent forth to conquer. He will bind and loose with a strong +hand. He will work wondrous things!" + +Not unlike these were the calculations of old Hinkley, as he hearkened +to the reverend reasonings and the solemn commonplaces of the stranger. +Stevens, like most recent converts, was the most uncompromising enemy of +those sins from which he professed to have achieved with difficulty his +own narrow escape; and finding, from the attentive ear of his audience, +that he had made a favorable impression, he proceeded to manufacture for +them his religious experience; an art which his general information, and +knowledge of the world enabled him to perform without much difficulty. + +But the puritan declamation which pleased all the rest, disgusted young +Hinkley, and increased his dislike for the declaimer. There was too much +of the worldling in the looks, dress, air, and manner of Stevens, to +satisfy the rustic of his sincerity. Something of his doubts had their +source, without question, in the antipathy which he had formed against +him; but William Hinkley was not without keen, quick, observing, and +justly discriminating faculties, and much of his conclusions were the +due consequence of a correct estimate of the peculiarities which we have +named. Stevens, he perceived, declared his experiences of religion, +with the air of one who expects the congratulations of his audience. +The humility which thinks only of the acquisition itself, as the very +perfection of human conquest, was wanting equally to his language and +deportment. The very details which he gave, were ostentatious; and the +gracious smiles which covered his lips as he concluded, were those of +the self-complacent person, who feels that he has just been saying +those good things, which, of necessity, must command the applause of his +hearers. + +A decent pause of half an hour after the supper was finished, which was +spent by the jealous youth in utter silence, and he then rose abruptly +and hurried from the apartment, leaving the field entirely to his +opponent. He proceeded to the house of his neighbor and cousin, Ned +Hinkley, but without any hope of receiving comfort from his communion. +Ned was a lively, thoughtless, light-hearted son of the soil, who was +very slow to understand sorrows of any kind; and least of all, those +which lie in the fancy of a dreaming and a doubtful lover. At this +moment, when the possession of a new violin absorbed all his thoughts, +his mind was particularly obtuse on the subject of sentimental +grievances, and the almost voluptuous delight which filled his eyes +when William entered his chamber, entirely prevented him from seeing the +heavy shadow which overhung the brows of the latter. + +"What, back again, William? Why, you're as changeable as the last +suit of a green lizard. When I asked you to stop, and hear me play +'Cross-possum,' and 'Criss-cross,' off you went without giving me a +civil answer. I've a mind now to put up the fiddle and send your ears +to bed supperless. How would you like that, old fellow? but I'll be +good-natured. You shall have it, though you don't deserve it; she's +in prime tune, and the tones--only hear that, Bill--there. Isn't she +delicious?" + +And as the inconsiderate cousin poured out his warmest eulogy of the +favorite instrument, his right hand flourished the bow in air, in a +style that would have cheered the heart of Jean Crapaud himself, and +then brought it over the cat-gut in a grand crash, that sounded as +harshly in the ears of his morbid visitor, as if the two worlds had +suddenly come together with steam-engine velocity. He clapped his hands +upon the invaded organs, and with something like horror in his voice, +cried out his expostulations. + +"For heaven's sake, Ned, don't stun a body with your noise." + +"Noise! Did you say noise, Bill Hinkley--noise?" + +"Yes, noise," answered the other with some peevishness in his accents. +The violinist looked at him incredulously, while he suffered the point +of the fiddle-bow to sink on a line with the floor; then, after a +moment's pause, he approached his companion, wearing in his face the +while, an appearance of the most grave inquiry, and when sufficiently +nigh, he suddenly brought the bow over the strings of the instrument, +immediately in William's ears, with a sharp and emphatic movement, +producing an effect to which the former annoying crash, might well +have been thought a very gentle effusion. This was followed by an +uncontrollable burst of laughter from the merry lips of the musician. + +"There--that's what I call a noise, Bill. Sweet Sall CAN make a noise +when I worry her into it; she's just like other women in that respect; +she'll be sure to squall out if you don't touch her just in the right +quarter. But the first time she did NOT go amiss, and as for stunning +you--but what's the matter? Where's the wind now?" + +"Nothing--only I don't want to be deafened with such a clatter." + +"Something's wrong, Bill, I know it. You look now for all the world like +a bottle of sour son, with the cork out, and ready to boil over. As +for Sall making a noise the first time, that's all a notion, and a very +strange one. She was as sweet-spoken then as she was when you left +me before supper. The last time, I confess, I made her squall out on +purpose. But what of that? you are not the man to get angry with a +little fun!" + +"No, I'm not angry with you, Ned--I am not angry with anybody; but just +now, I would rather not hear the fiddle. Put it up." + +"There!" said the other good-naturedly, as he placed the favorite +instrument in its immemorial case in the corner. "There; and now Bill, +untie the pack, and let's see the sort of wolf-cubs you've got to carry; +for there's no two horns to a wild bull, if something hasn't gored you +to-night." + +"You're mistaken, Ned--quite mistaken--quite!" + +"Deuse a bit! I know you too well, Bill Hinkley, so it's no use to hush +up now. Out with it, and don't be sparing, and if there's any harm to +come, I'm here, just as ready to risk a cracked crown for you, as if the +trouble was my own. I'd rather fiddle than fight, it's true; but when +there's any need for it, you know I can do one just as well as the +other; and can go to it with just as much good humor. So show us the +quarrel." + +"There's no quarrel. Ned," said the other, softened by the frank and +ready feeling which his companion showed; "but I'm very foolish in some +things, and don't know how it is. I'm not apt to take dislikes, but +there's a man come to our house with John Cross, this evening, that I +somehow dislike very much." + +"A man! What's he like? Anything like Joe Richards? That was a fellow +that I hated mightily. I never longed to lick any man but Joe Richards, +and him I longed to lick three times, though you know I never got at him +more than twice. It's a great pity he got drowned, for I owe him a third +licking, and don't feel altogether right, since I know no sort of way to +pay it. But if this man's anything like Joe, it may be just the same if +I give it to HIM. Now--" + +"He's nothing like Richards," said the other. "He's a taller and +better-looking man." + +"If he's nothing like Joe, what do you want to lick him for?" said the +single-minded musician, with a surprise in his manner, which was mingled +with something like rebuke. + +"I have expressed no such wish, Ned; you are too hasty; and if I did +wish to whip him, I don't think I should trouble you or any man to +help me. If I could not do it myself, I should give it up as a bad job, +without calling in assistants." + +"Oh, you're a spunky follow--a real colt for hard riding," retorted the +other with a good-natured mock in his tones and looks; "but if you don't +want to lick the fellow, how comes it you dislike him? It seems to me +if a chap behaved so as to make me dislike him, it wouldn't be an easy +matter to keep my hands off him. I'd teach him how to put me into a bad +humor, or I'd never touch violin again." + +"This man's a parson, I believe." + +"A parson--that's a difficulty. It is not altogether right to lick +parsons, because they're not counted fighting people. But there's a +mighty many on 'em that licking would help. No wonder you dislike the +fellow, though if he comes with John Cross, he shouldn't be altogether +so bad. Now, John Cross IS a good man. He's good, and he's good-humored. +He don't try to set people's teeth on edge against all the pleasant +things of this world, and he can laugh, and talk, and sing, like other +people. Many's the time he's asked me, of his own mouth, to play the +violin; and I've seen his little eyes caper again, when sweet Sall +talked out her funniest. If it was not so late, I'd go over now and give +him a reel or two, and then I could take a look at this strange chap, +that's set your grinders against each other." + +The fiddler looked earnestly at the instrument in the corner, his +features plainly denoting his anxiety to resume the occupation which his +friends coming had so inopportunely interrupted. William Hinkley saw the +looks of his cousin, and divined the cause. + +"You shall play for me, Ned," he remarked; "you shall give me that old +highland-reel that you learned from Scotch Geordie. It will put me out +of my bad humor, I think, and we can go to bed quietly. I've come to +sleep with you to-night." + +"You're a good fellow, Bill; I knew that you couldn't stand it long, if +Sweet Sall kept a still tongue in her head. That reel's the very thing +to drive away bad humors, though there's another that I learnt from John +Blodget, the boat-man, that sounds to me the merriest and comicalest +thing in the world. It goes--," and here the fiddle was put in +requisition to produce the required sounds: and having got carte +blanche, our enthusiastic performer, without weariness, went through +his whole collection, without once perceiving that his comical and +merry tunes had entirely failed to change the grave, and even gloomy +expression which still mantled the face of his companion. It was only +when in his exhaustion he set down the instrument, that he became +conscious of William Hinkley's continued discomposure. + +"Why, Bill, the trouble has given you a bigger bite than I thought for. +What words did you have with the preacher?" + +"None: I don't know that he is a preacher. He speaks only as if he was +trying to become one." + +"What, you hadn't any difference--no quarrel?" + +"None." + +"And it's only to-night that you've seen him for the first time?" + +A flush passed over the grave features of William Hinkley as he heard +this question, and it was with a hesitating manner and faltering +accents, that he contrived to tell his cousin of the brief glimpse which +he had of the same stranger several months before, on that occasion, +when, in the emotion of Margaret Cooper, replying to a similar question, +he first felt the incipient seed of jealousy planted within his bosom. +But this latter incident he forbore to reveal to the inquirer; and Ned +Hinkley, though certainly endowed by nature with sufficient skill +to draw forth the very soul of music from the instrument on which he +played, had no similar power upon the secret soul of the person whom he +partially examined. + +"But 'tis very strange how you should take offence at a man you've seen +so little; though I have heard before this of people taking dislikes +at other people the first moment they set eyes on 'em. Now, I'm not a +person of that sort, unless it was in the case of Joe Richards; and him +I took a sort of grudge at from the first beginning. But even then there +was a sort of reason for it; for, at the beginning, when Joe came down +upon us here in Charlemont, he was for riding over people's necks, +without so much as asking, 'by your leave.' He had a way about him that +vexed me, though we did not change a word." + +"And it's that very way that this person has that I don't like," said +William Hinkley. "He talks as if he made you, and when you talk, he +smiles as if he thought you were the very worst work that ever went out +of his hands. Then, if he has to say anything, be it ever so trifling, +he says it just as if he was telling you that the world was to come to +an end the day after to-morrow." + +"Just the same with Joe Richards. I never could get at him but twice; +though I give him then a mighty smart hammering; and if he hadn't got +under the broadhorn and got drowned;--but this fellow?" + +"You'll see him at church to-morrow. I shouldn't wonder if he preaches; +for John Cross was at him about it before I came away. What's worse, the +old man's been asking him to live with us." + +"What, here in Charlemont?" + +"Yes." + +"I'll be sure to lick him then, if he's anything like Joe Richards. But +what's to make him live in Charlemont? Is he to be a preacher for us?" + +"Perhaps so, but I couldn't understand all, for I came in while they +were at it, and left home before they were done. I'm sure if he stays +there I shall not. I shall leave home, for I really dislike to meet +him." + +"You shall stay with me, Bill, and we'll have Sall at all hours," was +the hearty speech of the cousin, as he threw his arms around the neck +of his morose companion, and dragged him gently toward the adjoining +apartment, which formed his chamber. "To-morrow," he continued, "as you +say, we'll see this chap, and if he's anything like Joe Richards--" The +doubled fist of the speaker, and his threatening visage, completed the +sentence with which this present conference and chapter may very well +conclude. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE TOAD ON THE ALTAR. + + + + + +The next day was the sabbath. John Cross had timed his arrival at +the village with a due reference to his duties, and after a minute +calculation of days and distances, so that his spiritual manna might be +distributed in equal proportions among his hungering flock. His arrival +made itself felt accordingly, not simply in Charlemont, but throughout +the surrounding country for a circuit of ten miles or more. There was a +large and hopeful gathering of all sorts and sexes, white and black, old +and young. Charlemont had a very pretty little church of its own; but +one, and that, with more true Christianity than is found commonly in +this world of pretence and little tolerance, was open to preachers of +all denominations. The word of God, among these simple folks, was quite +too important to make them scruple at receiving it from the lips of +either Geneva, Rome, or Canterbury. The church stood out among the hills +at a little distance from, but in sight of the village; a small, neat +Grecian-like temple, glimmering white and saintlike through solemn +visaged groves, and gaudy green foliage. The old trees about it were all +kept neatly trimmed, the brush pruned away and cleared up, and a smooth +sweet sward, lawn-like, surrounded it, such as children love to skip and +scramble over, and older children rest at length upon, in pairs, talking +over their sweet silly affections. + +Surrounded by an admiring crowd, each of whom had his respectful +salutation, we see our friend John Cross toward noon approaching the +sacred dwelling. Truly he was the most simple, fraternal of all God's +creatures. He had a good word for this, an affectionate inquiry for +that, a benevolent smile, and a kind pressure of the hand for all. +He was a man to do good, for everybody saw that he thought for others +before himself, and sincerity and earnestness constitute, with the +necessary degree of talent, the grand secrets for making successful +teachers in every department. + +Though a simple, unsophisticated, unsuspecting creature, John Cross +was a man of very excellent natural endowments. He chose for his text +a passage of the Scriptures which admitted of a direct practical +application to the concerns of the people, their daily wants, their +pressing interests, moral, human, and social. He was thus enabled to +preach a discourse which sent home many of his congregation much wiser +than they came, if only in reference to their homely duties of farmstead +and family. John Cross was none of those sorry and self-constituted +representatives of our eternal interests, who deluge us with a vain, +worthless declamation, proving that virtue is a very good thing, +religion a very commendable virtue, and a liberal contribution to the +church-box at the close of the sermon one of the most decided proofs +that we have this virtue in perfection. Nay, it is somewhat doubtful, +indeed, if he ever once alluded to the state of his own scrip and the +treasury of the church. His faith, sincere, spontaneous, ardent, left +him in very little doubt that the Lord will provide, for is he not +called "Jehovah-Jireh?"--and his faith was strengthened and confirmed +by the experience of his whole life. But then John Cross had few +wants--few, almost none! In this respect he resembled the first +apostles. The necessities of life once cared for, never was mortal man +more thoroughly independent of the world. He was not one of those fine +preachers who, dealing out counsels of self-denial, in grave saws and +solemn maxims, with wondrous grim visage and a most slow, lugubrious +shaking of the head--are yet always religiously careful to secure the +warmest seat by the fireside, and the best buttered bun on table. +He taught no doctrine which he did not practise; and as for +consideration--that test at once of the religionist and the +gentleman--he was as humbly solicitous of the claims and feelings of +others, as the lovely and lowly child to whom reverence has been well +taught as the true beginning, equally of politeness and religion. + +Before going into church he urged his protege, Stevens, to consent to +share in the ceremonies of the service as a layman; but there was still +some saving virtue in the young man, which made him resolute in refusing +to do so. Perhaps, his refusal was dictated by a policy like that which +had governed him so far already; which made him reluctant to commit +himself to a degree which might increase very much the hazards of +detection. He feared, indeed, the restraints which the unequivocal +adoption of the profession would impose upon him, fettering somewhat +the freedom of his intercourse with the young of both sexes, and, +consequently, opposing an almost insurmountable barrier to the +prevailing object which had brought him to the village. Whatever may +have been the feelings or motives which governed him, they, at least, +saved him from an act which would have grievously aggravated his already +large offence against truth and propriety. He declined, in language of +the old hypocrisy. He did not feel justified in taking up the cross--he +felt that he was not yet worthy; and, among the members of a church, +which takes largely into account the momentary impulses and impressions +of the professor, the plea was considered a sufficiently legitimate one. + +But though Stevens forbore to commit himself openly in the cause which +he professed a desire to espouse, he was yet sufficiently heedful to +maintain all those externals of devotion which a serious believer would +be apt to exhibit. He could be a good actor of a part, and in this lay +his best talent. He had that saving wisdom of the worldling, which is +too often estimated beyond its worth, called cunning; and the frequent +successes of which produces that worst of all the diseases that ever +impaired the value of true greatness--conceit. Alfred Stevens fancied +that he could do everything, and this fancy produced in him the +appearance of a courage which his moral nature never possessed. He had +the audacity which results from presumption, not the wholesome strength +which comes from the conscious possession of a right purpose. But a +truce to our metaphysics. + +Never did saint wear the aspect of such supernatural devotion. He knelt +with the first, groaned audibly at intervals, and when his face became +visible, his eyes were strained in upward glances, so that the spectator +could behold little more in their orbs than a sea of white. + +"Oh! what a blessed young man!" said Mrs. Quackenbosh. + +"How I wish it was he that was to preach for us to-day," responded that +gem from the antique, Miss Polly Entwistle, who had joined every church +in Kentucky in turn, without having been made a spouse in either. + +"How handsome he is!" simpered Miss Julia Evergreen--a damsel of +seventeen, upon whom the bilious eyes of Miss Entwistle were cast with +such an expression as the devil is said to put on when suddenly soused +in holy water. + +"Handsome is that handsome does!" was the commentary of a venerable +cormorant to whom Brother Cross had always appeared the special and +accepted agent of heaven. + +"I wish Brother Cross would get him to pray only. I wonder if he +believes in the new-light doctrine?" purred one of the ancient tabbies +of the conventicle. + +"The new light is but the old darkness, Sister Widgeon," responded an +old farmer of sixty four, who had divided his time so equally between +the plough and the prayer-book, that his body had grown as crooked as +the one, while his mind was bewildered with as many doctrines as ever +worried all sense out of the other. + +We shall not suffer these to divert us, any more than Stevens permitted +their speculations upon his person and religion to affect his devotion. +He looked neither to the right nor to the left while entering the +church, or engaging in the ceremonies. No errant glances were permitted +to betray to the audience a mind wandering from the obvious duties +before it; and yet Alfred Stevens knew just as well that every eye in +the congregation was fixed upon him, as that he was himself there; and +among those eyes, his own keen glance had already discovered those of +that one for whom all these labors of hypocrisy were undertaken. + +Margaret Cooper sat on the opposite side of the church, but the line +of vision was uninterrupted between them, and when--though very +unfrequently--Stevens suffered his gaze to rest upon her form, it was +with a sudden look of pleased abstraction, as if, in spite of himself, +his mind was irresistibly drawn away from all recollection, of its +immediate duties. + +If a word is sufficient for the wise, a look answers an equal purpose +with the vain. Margaret Cooper left the church that morning with a +pleased conviction that the handsome stranger had already paid his +devotion to her charms. There was yet another passion to be gratified. +The restless ambition of her foolish heart whispered to her momently, +that if her person had done so much, what might she not hope to achieve +when the treasures of her mind were known. She had long since made the +comparison of her own intellect with that of every other maiden in the +village, and she flattered herself that before many days, the young +stranger should make it too. Her vain heart was rapidly preparing to +smooth the path of the enemy and make his conquests easy. + +But it was not the women only, by whom the deportment of Alfred Stevens +was so closely watched. The eyes of suspicion and jealousy were upon +him. The two young men whose interview formed the conclusion of our last +chapter, scanned his conduct and carriage with sufficient keenness of +scrutiny. + +"I'll tell you what, Bill Hinkley," said his cousin, "this fellow, to my +thinking, is a very great rascal." + +"What makes you think so?" demanded the former, with slow, dissatisfied +accents; "he seems to pray very earnestly." + +"That's the very reason I think him a rascal. His praying seems to me +very unnatural. Here, he's a perfect stranger in the place, yet he never +shows any curiosity to see the people. He never once looks around him. +He walks to the church with his eye cast upon the ground, and sometimes +he squints to this side and sometimes to that, but he seems to do it +slyly, and seems to take pains that nobody should see him doing, it. +All this might answer for an old man, who--believes that everything is +vanity--as, indeed, everything must seem to old people; but to a young +fellow, full of blood, who eats well, drinks well, sleeps well, and +should naturally have a hankering after a young girl, all this is +against nature. Now, what's against nature is wrong, and there's wrong +at the bottom of it. Youth is the time to laugh, dance, sing, play on +the violin, and always have a sweetheart when it can find one. If you +can't get a beauty take a brown; and if Mary won't smile, Susan will. +But always have a sweetheart; always be ready for fun and frolic; +that's the way for the young, and when they don't take these ways, it's +unnatural--there's something wrong about it, and I'm suspicious of THAT +person. Now, I just have this notion of the young stranger. He's after +no good. I reckon he's like a hundred others; too lazy to go to work, +he goes to preaching, and learns in the first sermon to beg hard for the +missionaries. I'll lick him, Bill, to a certainty, if he gives me the +littlest end of an opportunity." + +"Pshaw, Ned, don't think of such a thing. You are quite too fond of +licking people." + +"Deuse a bit. It does 'em good. Look you, this chap is monstrous like +Joe Richards. I'll have to lick him on that account." + +"You're mad, Ned; talk of whipping a preacher." + +"He's no preacher yet," said the other, "but if I lick him he may become +one." + +"No matter, he's never offended you." + +"Ay, but he will. I see it in the fellow's looks. I never was mistaken +in a fellow's looks in all my life." + +"Wait till he does offend you then." + +"Well, I'm willing to do that, for I know the time will come. I'm always +sure, when I first see a man, to know whether I'll have to flog him or +not. There's a something that tells me so. Isn't that very singular, +Bill?" + +"No! you form a prejudice against a man, fancy that you ought to whip +him, and then never rest till you've done so. You'll find your match +some day." + +"What! you think some other chap will fancy he ought to whip me? +Well--maybe so. But this ain't the fellow to do that." + +"He's a stout man, and I reckon strong. Besides, Ned, he's very +handsome." + +"Handsome! Lord, Bill, what a taste you have? How can a man be called +handsome that never altogether opens his eyes, except when he turns up +the whites until you'd think he'd never be able to get the balls back to +their proper place? Then, what a chin he has--as sharp as a pitchfork, +and who but a girl child would fancy a man with his hair combed sleek +like a woman's on each side of his ears, with big whiskers at the +same time that looks for all the world like the brush of a seven years +running fox, Handsome! If my pup 'Dragon' was only half so much like a +beast, I'd plump him into the horsepond!" + +It is probable that Ned Hinkley did not altogether think of the stranger +as he expressed himself. But he saw how deep a hold his appearance had +taken, in an adverse way, upon the mind and feelings of his relative and +friend, and his rude, but well-meant endeavors were intended to console +his companion, after his own fashion, by the exhibition of a certain +degree of sympathy. + +His efforts, however well intended, did not produce any serious effect. +William Hinkley, though he forbore the subject, and every expression +which might indicate either soreness or apprehension, was still the +victim of that presentiment which had touched him on the very first +appearance of the stranger. He felt more than ever apprehensive on the +score of his misplaced affections. While his cousin had been watching +the stranger, HIS eyes had been fixed upon those of Margaret Cooper, and +his fears were increased and strengthened, as he perceived that she was +quite too much absorbed in other thoughts and objects to behold for an +instant the close espionage which he maintained upon her person. His +heart sunk within him, as he beheld how bold was her look, and how +undisguised the admiration which it expressed for the handsome stranger. + +"You will go home with me, William?" said the cousin, The other +hesitated. + +"I think," said he, after a moment's pause, "I should rather go to my +own home. It is a sort of weakness to let a stranger drive a man off +from his own family, and though I somehow dislike this person's looks, +and am very sorry that John Cross brought him to our house, yet I +shouldn't let a prejudice which seems to have no good foundation take +such possession of my mind. I will go home, Ned, and see--perhaps I may +come to like the stranger more when I know him better." + +"You'll never like him. I see it in the fellow's eye; but just as you +please about going nome. You're right in one thing--never to give up +your own dunghill, so long as you can get room on it for a fair fling +with your enemy. Besides, you can see better, by going home, what the +chap's after. I don't see why he should come here to learn to preach. We +can't support a preacher. We don't want one. He could just as well have +learned his business, where he came from." + +With these words the cousins separated. + +"Now," said Ned Hinkley as he took his own way homeward, in a deeper +fit of abstraction than was altogether usual with him, "now will Bill +Hinkley beat about the bush without bouncing through it, until it's +too late to do anything. He's mealy-mouthed with the woman, and +mealy-mouthed with the man, and mealy-mouthed with everybody.--quite +too soft-hearted and too easy to get on. Here's a stranger nobody +knows, just like some crow from another corn-field, that'll pick up +his provisions from under his very nose, and he doing nothing to hinder +until there's no use in trying. If I don't push in and help him, he'll +not help himself. As for Margaret Cooper, dang it, I'll court her for +him myself. If he's afraid to pop the question, I ain't; though I'll +have to be mighty careful about the words I use, or she'll be thinking +I come on my own hook; and that would be a mighty scary sort of business +all round the house. Then this stranger. If anybody can look through +a stranger here in Charlemont, I reckon I'm that man. I suspect him +already. I think he's after no good with his great religioning; and I'll +tie such a pair of eyes to his heels, that his understanding will never +be entirely out of my sight. I'll find him out if anybody can. But I +won't lick him till I do. That wouldn't be altogether right, considering +he's to be a parson, though I doubt he'll never make one." + +And thus, with a head filled with cares of a fashion altogether new, the +sturdy young Kentuckian moved homeward with a degree of abstraction in +his countenance which was not among the smallest wonders of the day and +place in the estimation of his friends and neighbors. + +Meanwhile, the work of mischief was in full progress. Everybody +knows the degree of familiarity which exists among all classes in a +country-village, particularly when the parties are brought together +under the social and stimulating influences of religion. It was natural +that the pastor, long known and well beloved, should be surrounded by +his flock as he descended from the pulpit. The old ladies always have +a saving interest in his presence, and they pave the way for the young +ones. Alfred Stevens, as the protege of John Cross, naturally attended +his footsteps, and was introduced by him to the little congregation, +which had mostly remained to do honor to the preacher. Of these, not +last, nor least, was the widow Cooper; and, unreluctant by her side, +though in silence, and not without a degree of emotion, which she yet +was able to conceal, stood her fair but proud-hearted daughter. + +Margaret, alas! Margaret stood there with a heart more proud, yet more +humble, than ever. Proud in the consciousness of a new conquest--humble +in the feeling that this conquest had not been made, but at the expense +of some portion of her own independence. Hitherto, her suitors had +awakened no other feeling in her heart but vanity. Now, she felt no +longer able to sail on, "imperial arbitress," smiling at woes which she +could inflict, but never share. That instinct, which, in the heart of +young Hinkley had produced fear, if not antipathy, had been as active in +her case, though with a very different result. The first glimpse which +she had of the handsome stranger, months before, had impressed her with +a singular emotion; and now that he was returned, she could not divest +herself of the thought that his return was a consequence of that one +glimpse. + +With a keener judgment than belonged to her neighbors, she too had some +suspicions that religion was scarcely the prevailing motive which +had brought the youth back to their little village; for how could she +reconcile with his present demure gravity and devout profession, the +daring which he had shown in riding back to behold her a second +time? That such had been his motive she divined by her own feeling of +curiosity, and the instincts of vanity were prompt enough to believe +that this was motive sufficient to bring him back once more, and under +the guise of a character, which would the readiest secure an easy +entrance to society. Pleased with the fancy that she herself was +the object sought, she did not perceive how enormous was the sort of +deception which the stranger had employed to attain the end desired. +With all her intellect she had not the wisdom to suspect that he who +could so readily practise so bold an hypocrisy, was capable of the worst +performances; and when their names were mentioned, and his eyes were +permitted to meet and mingle their glances with hers, she was conscious +of nothing farther than a fluttering sentiment of pleasure, which was +amply declared to the stranger, in the flash of animation which spoke +openly in her countenance; eye speaking to lip and cheek, and these, in +turn, responding with a kindred sentiment to the already tell-tale eye. + +William Hinkley, from a little distance, beheld this meeting. He had +lingered with the curiosity which belongs to the natural apprehension +of the lover. He saw them approach--nay, fancied he beheld the mutual +expression of their sympathizing eyes, and he turned away, and hurried +homeward, with the feeling of a heart already overborne, and defrauded +in all its hopes and expectations. The flowers were threatened with +blight in his Eden: but he did not conjecture, poor fellow, that a +serpent had indeed entered it! + + + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE GOOD YOUNG MAN IN MEDITATION. + + + + + +Perhaps, it may be assumed, with tolerable safety, that no first villany +is ever entirely deliberate. There is something in events to give +it direction--something to egg it on--to point out time, place, and +opportunity. Of course, it is to be understood that the actor is one, +in the first place, wanting in the moral sense. What we simply mean +to affirm is, that the particular, single act, is, in few instances, +deliberately meditated from the beginning. We very much incline to +think that some one event, which we ordinarily refer to the chapter +of accidents, has first set the mind to work upon schemes, which would +otherwise, perhaps, never be thought of at all. Thus, we find persons +who continue very good people, as the world goes, until middle age, or +even seniority; then, suddenly breaking out into some enormous +offence against decency and society, which startles the whole pious +neighborhood. Folks start up, with outstretched hands and staring eyes, +and cry aloud:-- + +"Lord bless us, who would have thought so good a man could be so bad!" + +He, poor devil, never fancied it himself, till he became so, and it was +quite too late to alter his arrangements. Perhaps his neighbors may +have had some share in making him so. Pious persons are very frequently +reduced to these straits by having the temptation forced too much +upon them. Flesh and blood can not always withstand the provocation of +earthly delicacies, even where the spirit is a tolerably stout one; and +of the inadequacy of the mind, always to contend with the inclinations +of the flesh, have we not a caution in that injunction of Holy Book +which warns us to fly from temptation? But lame people can not fly, and +he is most certainly lame who halts upon mere feet of circumstances. +Such people are always in danger. + +Now, Alfred Stevens, properly brought up, from the beginning, at some +theological seminary, would have been--though in moral respects pretty +much the same person--yet in the eye of the world a far less criminal +man. Not that his desires would have been a jot more innocent, but they +would have taken a different direction. Instead of the recklessness of +course, such as seems to have distinguished the conduct of our present +subject--instead of his loose indulgences--his smart, licentious +speeches--the sheep's-eye glances, right and left, which he was but +too prone to bestow, without prudence or precaution, whenever he walked +among the fair sisters--he, the said Alfred, would have taken counsel +of a more worldly policy, which is yet popularly considered a more pious +one. He would have kept his eyes from wandering to and fro; he would +have held his blood in subjection. Patient as a fox on a long scent in +autumn, he would have kept himself lean and circumspect, until, through +the help of lugubrious prayer and lantern visage, he could have beguiled +into matrimony some one feminine member of the flock--not always +fair--whose worldly goods would have sufficed in full atonement for all +those circumspect, self-imposed restraints, which we find usually so +well rewarded. But Alfred Stevens was not a man of this pious temper. +It is evident, from his present course, that he had some inkling of the +MODUS OPERANDI; but all his knowledge fell short of that saving +wisdom which would have defrauded the social world of one of its moral +earthquakes, and possibly deprived the survivors of the present moral +story--for moral it is, though our hero is not exactly so. + +It would be doing our subject and our theory equal injustice if we were +to suppose that he had any fixed purpose, known to himself, when he +borrowed the professional garment, and began to talk with the worthy +John Cross in the language of theology, and with the tongue of a +hypocrite. He designed to visit Charlemont--that was all--as he had +really been impressed by the commanding figure and noble expression of +beauty of that young damsel whom he had encountered by the roadside. +Even this impression, however, would have been suffered to escape from +his mind, had it not been so perfectly convenient to revisit the spot, +on his return to his usual place of residence. During the summer, +Charlemont and its rustic attractions had been the frequent subject of +a conversation, running into discussion, between himself and the amiable +old man, his uncle. The latter repeatedly urged upon his nephew to +make the visit; fondly conceiving that a nearer acquaintance with +the pleasant spot which had so won upon his own affections, would be +productive of a like effect upon his nephew. Alas, how little did he +know the mischief he was doing! + +In the very idleness of mood--with just that degree of curiosity which +prompts one to turn about and look a second time--Alfred Stevens resumed +the route which included Charlemont. But the devil had, by this time, +found his way into the meditations of the youth, and lay lurking, +unknown to himself, perhaps, at the bottom of this same curiosity. The +look of pride and defiance which Margaret Cooper had betrayed, when the +bold youth rode back to steal a second glance at her matchless person, +was equivalent to an equally bold challenge; and his vanity hastily +picked up the gauntlet which hers had thrown down. He wished to see +the damsel again--to see if she WAS so beautiful--if she did, indeed, +possess that intellectual strength and vivacity which flashed out +so suddenly and with so much splendor from beneath her long, dark +eye-lashes! + +In this mood he met with John Cross; and the simplicity of that worthy +creature offered another challenge, not less provoking than the former, +to the levity and love of mischief which also actively predominated in +the bosom of the youth. Fond of a malicious sort of fun, and ever on the +look-out for subjects of quizzing, it was in compliance with a purely +habitual movement of his mind that he conjured up that false, glozing +story of his religious inclinations, which had so easily imposed upon +the unsuspecting preacher. Never was proceeding less premeditated, or +so completely the result of an after-thought, than this; and now that it +had proved so perfectly successful--now that he found himself admitted +into the very heart of the little village, and into the bosoms of the +people--he began, for the first time, to feel the awkwardness of the +situation in which he had placed himself, and the responsibilities, +if not dangers, to which it subjected him. To play the part of a mere +preacher--to talk glibly, and with proper unction, in the stereotype +phraseology of the profession--was no difficult matter to a clever young +lawyer of the West, having a due share of the gift of gab, and almost as +profoundly familiar with scripture quotation as Henry Clay himself. But +there was something awkward in the idea of detection, and he was not +unaware of those summary dangers which are likely to follow, in those +wild frontier regions, from the discovery of so doubtful a personage +as "Bro' Wolf" in the clothing of a more innocent animal. Chief-Justice +Lynch is a sacred authority in those parts; and, in such a case as his, +Alfred Stevens did not doubt that the church itself would feel it only +becoming to provide another sort of garment for the offender, which, +whether pleasant or not, would at least be likely to stick more closely, +and prove less comfortably warm. + +But, once in, there was no help but to play out the game as it had been +begun. Villagers are seldom very sagacious people, and elegant strangers +are quite too much esteemed among them to make them very particular in +knowing the whys and wherefores about them--whence they come, what they +do, and whither they propose to go. Stevens had only to preserve his +countenance and a due degree of caution, and the rest was easy. He had +no reason to suppose himself an object of suspicion to anybody; and +should he become so, nothing was more easy than to take his departure +with sufficient promptness, and without unnecessarily soliciting the +prayers of the church in behalf of the hurried traveller! At all events, +he could lose nothing by the visit: perhaps something might be gained. + +What was that something? Behold him in his chamber, preparing to ask and +to answer this question for himself. The sabbath-day is finally over. He +has been almost the lion of the day. We say almost, for the worthy John +Cross could not easily be deprived, by any rivalry, of the loyal regards +of his old parishioners. But, though the latter had most friends, the +stranger, Alfred Stevens, had had most followers. All were anxious to +know him--the young, in particular, maidens and men; and the grave old +dames would have given their last remaining teeth, bone or waxen, to +have heard him discourse. There was so much sense and solemnity in +his profound, devout looks! he has been made known to them all; he has +shaken hands with many. But he has exchanged the speech of sympathy and +feeling with but one only--and that one!-- + +Of her he thinks in his chamber--his quiet, snug, little chamber--a mere +closet, looking out upon a long garden-slip, in which he sees, without +much heeding them, long lanes of culinary cabbage, and tracts of other +growing and decaying vegetation, in which his interest is quite too +small to make it needful that he should even ask its separate names. His +chin rests upon his hands with an air of meditation; and gradually his +thoughts rise up in soliloquy, which is suffered to invade no ear but +ours:-- + +"Well! who'd have thought it? a parson!--devilish good indeed! How it +will tell at Murkey's! What a metamorphose! if it don't stagger 'em, +nothing will! It's the best thing I've done yet! I shall have to do it +over a hundred times, and must get up a sermon or two beforehand, and +swear that I preached them--and, egad! I may have to do it yet before +I'm done--ha! ha! ha!" + +The laughter was a quiet chuckle, not to be heard by vulgar ears; it +subsided in the gorges of his throat. The idea of really getting up a +sermon tickled him. He muttered over texts, all that he could remember; +and proceeded to turn over the phrases for an introduction, such +as, unctuous with good things in high degree, he fancied would be +particularly commendable to his unsuspecting hearers. Alfred Stevens had +no small talent for imitation, he derived a quiet sort of pleasure, on +the present occasion, from its indulgence. + +"I should have made a famous parson, and, if all trades fail, may yet. +But, now that I am here, what's to come of it? It's not so hard to put +on a long face, and prose in scripture dialect; but, cui bono? Let me +see--hem! The girl is pretty, devilish pretty--with such an eye, and +looks so! There's soul in the wench--life--and a passion that speaks out +in every glance and movement. A very Cressid, with a cross of Corinne! +Should she be like her of Troy? At all events, it can do no harm to see +what she's made of! + +"But I must manage warily. I have something to lose in the business. +Frankfort is but fifty miles from Charlemont--fifty miles--and there's +Ellisland, but fourteen. Fourteen!--an easy afternoon ride. That way it +must be done. Ellisland shall be my post-town. I can gallop there in +an afternoon, drop and receive my letters, and be back by a round-about +which shall effectually baffle inquiry. A week or two will be enough. +I shall see, by that time, what can be done with her; though still, +cautiously, Parson Stevens!--cautiously." + +The farther cogitations of Stevens were subordinate to these, but of the +same family complexion. They were such as to keep him wakeful. The Bible +which had been placed upon his table, by the considerate providence of +his hostess, lay there unopened; though, more than once, he lifted the +cover of the sacred volume, letting it fall again suddenly, as if with a +shrinking consciousness that such thoughts as at that moment filled his +mind were scarcely consistent with the employment, in any degree, of +such a companion. Finally, he undressed and went to bed. The hour had +become very late. + +"Good young man," muttered worthy Mrs. Hinkley to her drowsy spouse, in +the apartment below, as she heard the movements of her guest-"good young +man, he's just now going to bed. He's been studying all this while. I +reckon Brother Cross has been sound this hour." + +The light from Stevens's window glimmered out over the cabbage-garden, +and was seen by many an ancient dame as she prepared for her own +slumbers. + +"Good young man," said they all with one accord. "I reckon he's at the +Bible now. Oh! he'll be a blessed laborer in the vineyard, I promise +you, when Brother Cross is taken." + +"If it were not for the cursed bore of keeping up the farce beyond +the possibility of keeping up the fun, such a rig as this would be +incomparably pleasant; but"--yawning--"that's the devil! I get monstrous +tired of a joke that needs dry nursing!" + +Such were the last muttered words of Parson Stevens before he +yielded himself up to his slumbers. Good young man--charitable old +ladies--gullible enough, if not charitable! But the professions need +such people, and we must not quarrel with them! + + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +PAROCHIAL PERFORMANCES. + + + + + +The poor, conceited blackguards of this ungracious earth have a fancy +that there must be huge confusion and a mighty bobbery in nature, +corresponding with that which is for ever going on in their own little +spheres. If we have a toothache, we look for a change of weather; our +rheumatism is a sure sign that God has made his arrangements to give +us a slapping rain; and, should the white bull or the brown heifer die, +look out for hail, or thunderstorm, at least, as a forerunner of the +event. Nothing less can possibly console or satisfy us for such a most +unaccountable, not to say unnatural and unwarrantable, a dispensation. +The poets have ministered largely to this vanity on the part of mankind. +Shakspere is constantly at it, and Ben Jonson, and all the dramatists. +Not a butcher, in the whole long line of the butchering Caesars, from +Augustus down, but, according to them, died in a sort of gloom glory, +resulting from the explosion of innumerable stars and rockets, and the +apparitions of as many comets! "Gorgons, and hydras, and chimeras dire," +invariably announce the coming stroke of fate; and five or seven moons +of a night have suddenly arisen to warn some miserable sublunarian +that orders had been issued that there should be no moon for him that +quarter, or, in military and more precise phrase, that he should have +no "quarters" during that moon. Even our venerable and stern old puritan +saint, Milton--he who was blessed with the blindness of his earthly +eye, that he should be more perfectly enabled to contemplate the Deity +within--has given way to this superstition when he subjects universal +nature to an earthquake because Adam's wife followed the counsels of the +snake. + +A pretty condition of things it would be, if stars, suns, and systems, +were to shoot madly from their spheres on such occasions! Well might the +devil laugh if such were the case! How he would chuckle to behold globes +and seas, and empires, fall into such irreverend antics because some +poor earthling, be he kingling or common sodling, goes into desuetude, +either by the operation of natural laws, or the sharp application of +steel or shot! Verily, it makes precious little difference to the Great +Reaper, by what process we finally become harvested. He is sure of us, +though no graves gape, no stars fall, no comets rush out, like young +colts from their stables, flinging their tails into the faces of +the more sober and pacific brotherhood of lights. But, denied the +satisfaction of chuckling at such sights as these, his satanic majesty +chuckles not the less at the human vanity which looks for them. Nay, he +himself is very likely to suggest this vanity. It is one of his forms of +temptation--one of his manoeuvres; and we take leave, by way of warning, +to hint to those worthy people, who judge of to-morrow's providence +by the corns of their great toe, or their periodical lumbago, or the +shooting of their warts, or the pricking of their palms, that it is in +truth the devil which is at the bottom of all this, and that the Deity +has nothing to do in the business. It is the devil instilling his +vanities into the human heart, in that form which he thinks least likely +to prove offensive, or rouse suspicion. The devil is most active in +your affairs, Mrs. Thompson, the moment you imagine that there must be +a revolution on your account in the universal laws of nature. At such a +moment your best policy will be to have blood let, take physic, and go +with all diligence to your prayers. + +There was no sort of warning on the part of the natural to the moral +world, on the day when Alfred Stevens set forth with the worthy John +Cross, to visit the flock of the latter. There was not a lovelier +morning in the whole calendar. The sun was alone in heaven, without a +cloud; and on earth, the people in and about Charlemont, having been to +church only the day before, necessarily made their appearance everywhere +with petticoats and pantaloons tolerably clean and unrumpled. Cabbages +had not yet been frost-bitten. Autumn had dressed up her children in the +garments of beauty, preparatory to their funeral. There was a good crop +of grain that year, and hogs were brisk, and cattle lively, and all +"looking-up," in the language of the prices current. This was long +before the time when Mr. M---- made his famous gammon speeches; but the +people had a presentiment of what was coming, and to crown the eventful +anticipations of the season, there was quite a freshet in Salt river. +The signs were all and everywhere favorable. Speculation was beginning +to chink his money-bags; three hundred new banks, as many railways, were +about to be established; old things were about to fleet and disappear; +all things were becoming new; and the serpent entered Charlemont, and +made his way among the people thereof, without any signs of combustion, +or overthrow, or earthquake. + +Everybody has some tolerable idea of what the visitation of a parson is, +to the members of his flock. In the big cities he comes one day, and +the quarterly collector the next. He sits down with the "gude wife" in +a corner to themselves, and he speaks to her in precisely the same +low tones which cunning lovers are apt to use. If he knows any one art +better than another, it is that of finding his way to the affections of +the female part of his flock. A subdued tone of voice betrays a certain +deference for the party addressed. The lady is pleased with such a +preliminary. She is flattered again by the pains he takes in behalf of +her eternal interests; she is pretty sure he takes no such pains with +any of her neighbors. It is a sign that he thinks her soul the most +becoming little soul in the flock, and when he goes away, she looks +after him and sighs, and thinks him the most blessed soul of a parson. +The next week she is the first to get up a subscription which she heads +with her own name in connection with a sum realized by stinting her +son of his gingerbread money, in order to make this excellent parson +a life-member of the "Zion African Bible and Missionary Society, for +disseminating the Word among the Heathen." The same fifty dollars so +appropriated, would have provided fuel for a month to the starving poor +of her own parish. + +But Brother Cross gets no such windfalls. It is probable that he never +heard of such a thing, and that if he did, he would unhesitatingly cry +out, "Humbug," at the first intimation of it. Besides, his voice was +not capable of that modulation which a young lover, or a city parson can +give it. Accustomed to cry aloud and spare not, he usually spoke as if +there were some marrow in his bones, and some vigor in his wind-bags. +When he came to see the good wife of his congregation, he gave her +a hearty shake of the hand, congratulated her as he found her at her +spinning-wheel; spoke with a hearty approbation, if he saw that her +children were civil and cleanly; if otherwise, he blazed out with proper +boldness, by telling her that all her praying and groaning, would +avail nothing for her soul's safety, so long as Jackey's breeches were +unclean; and that the mother of a rude and dirty child, was as sure +of damnation, as if she never prayed at all. He had no scruples about +speaking the truth. He never looked about him for the gentle, easy +phrases, by which to distinguish the conduct which he was compelled to +condemn. He knew not only that the truth must be spoken, and be spoken +by him, if by anybody, but that there is no language too strong--perhaps +none quite strong enough--for the utterance of the truth. But it must +not be supposed, that John Cross was in any respect an intolerant, or +sour man. He was no hypocrite, and did not, therefore, need to clothe +his features in the vinegar costume of that numerous class. His limbs +were put into no such rigid fetters as too often denote the unnatural +restraints which such persons have imposed upon their inner minds. He +could laugh and sing with the merriest, and though he did not absolutely +shake a leg himself, yet none rejoiced more than he, when Ned Hinkley's +fiddle summoned the village to this primitive exercise. + +"Now, Alfred Stevens," said he, the breakfast being over, "what say'st +thou to a visit with me among my people. Some of them know thee already; +they will all be rejoiced to see thee. I will show thee how they live, +and if thou shouldst continue to feel within thee, the growing of that +good seed whose quickening thou hast declared to me, it will be well +that thou shouldst begin early to practise the calling which may so +shortly become thine own. Here mightest thou live a space, toiling in +thy spiritual studies, until the brethren should deem thee ripe for thy +office; meanwhile, thy knowledge of the people with whom thou livest, +and their knowledge of thee, would be matter of equal comfort and +consolation, I trust, to thee as to them." + +Alfred Stevens expressed himself pleased with the arrangement. Indeed, +he desired nothing else. + +"But shall we see all of them?" he demanded. The arch-hypocrite began +to fear that his curiosity would be compelled to pay a heavy penalty to +dullness. + +"The flock is small," said John Cross. "A day will suffice, but I shall +remain three days in Charlemont, and some I will see to-day, and some +to-morrow, and some on the day after, which is Wednesday." + +"Taken in moderate doses," murmured Stevens to himself, "one may stand +it." + +He declared himself in readiness, and the twain set forth. The outward +behavior of Stevens was very exemplary. He had that morning contrived to +alter his costume in some respects to suit the situation of affairs. For +example, he had adopted that slavish affectation which seems to insist +that a preacher of God should always wear a white cravat, so constructed +and worn as to hide the tips of his shirt collar. If they wore none, +they would look infinitely more noble, and we may add, never suffer from +bronchitis. In his deportment, Stevens was quite as sanctified as heart +could wish. He spoke always deliberately, and with great unction. If he +had to say "cheese and mousetrap," he would look very solemn, shake his +head with great gravity and slowness, and then deliberately and equally +emphasizing every syllable, would roll forth the enormous sentence +with all the conscious dignity of an ancient oracle. That "cheese and +mousetrap," so spoken, acquired in the ears of the hearer, a degree of +importance and signification, which it confounded them to think they had +never perceived before in the same felicitous collocation of syllables. +John Cross was not without his vanities. Who is? Vanity is quite as +natural as any other of our endowments. It is a guaranty for amiability. +A vain man is always a conciliatory one. He is kind to others, because +the approbation of others is a strong desire in his mind. Accordingly, +even vanity is not wholly evil. It has its uses. + +John Cross had his share, and Alfred Stevens soon discovered that he +ministered to it in no small degree. The good old preacher took to +himself the credit of having effected his conversion, so far as it had +gone. It was his hand that had plucked the brand from the burning. He +spoke freely of his protege, as well before his face as behind his back. +In his presence he dwelt upon the holy importance of his calling; to +others he dilated upon the importance of securing for the church a young +man of so much talent, yet of so much devotion: qualities not always +united, it would seem, among the churchlings of modern times. + +Alfred Stevens seemed to promise great honor to his teacher. That +cunning which is the wisdom of the worldling, and which he possessed +in a very surprising degree, enabled him to adopt a course of conduct, +look, and remark, which amply satisfied the exactions of the scrupulous, +and secured the unhesitating confidence of those who were of a more +yielding nature. He soon caught the phraseology of his companion, and +avoiding his intensity, was less likely to offend his hearers. His +manner was better subdued to the social tone of ordinary life, his voice +lacked the sharp twang of the backwoods man; and, unlike John Cross, he +was able to modulate it to those undertones, which, as we have +before intimated, are so agreeable from the lips of young lovers and +fashionable preachers. At all events, John Cross himself, was something +more than satisfied with his pupil, and took considerable pains to show +him off. He was a sort of living and speaking monument of the good man's +religious prowess. + +It does not need that we should follow the two into all the abodes which +they were compelled to visit. The reader would scarcely conceal his +yawns though Stevens did. Enough, that a very unctuous business was made +of it that morning. Many an old lady was refreshed with the spiritual +beverage bestowed in sufficient quantity to last for another quarter; +while many a young one rejoiced in the countenance of so promising a +shepherd as appeared under the name of Alfred Stevens. But the latter +thought of the one damsel only. He said many pleasant things to those +whom he did see; but his mind ran only upon one. He began to apprehend +that she might be among the flock who were destined to wait for the +second or last day's visitation; when, to his great relief, John Cross +called his attention to the dwelling of the widow Cooper, to whom they +were fast approaching. + +Stevens remarked that the dwelling had very much the appearance of +poverty--he did not fail to perceive that it lacked the flower-garden +in front which distinguished the greater number of the cottages in +Charlemont; and there was an appearance of coldness and loneliness about +its externals which impressed itself very strongly upon his thoughts, +and seemed to speak unfavorably for the taste of the inmates. One is +apt to associate the love of flowers with sweetness and gentleness of +disposition, and such a passion would seem as natural, as it certainly +would be becoming, to a young lady of taste and sensibility. But the +sign is a very doubtful one. Taste and gentleness may satisfy themselves +with other objects. A passion for books is very apt to exclude a very +active passion for flowers, and it will be found, I suspect, that these +persons who are most remarkable for the cultivation of flowers are least +sensible to the charms of letters. It seems monstrous, indeed, that a +human being should expend hours and days in the nursing and tendance of +such stupid beauties as plants and flowers, when earth is filled with +so many lovelier objects that come to us commended by the superior +sympathies which belong to humanity. Our cities are filled with the +sweetest orphans--flowers destined to be immortal; angels in form, that +might be angels in spirit--that must be, whether for good or evil--whom +we never cultivate--whom we suffer to escape our tendance, and leave to +the most pitiable ignorance, and the most wretched emergencies of want. +The life that is wasted upon dahlias, must, prima facie, be the life +of one heartless and insensible, and most probably, brutish in a high +degree. + +But Alfred Stevens had very little time for further reflection. They +were at the door of the cottage. Never did the widow Cooper receive +her parson in more tidy trim, and with an expression of less qualified +delight. She brought forth the best chair, brushed the deerskin-seat +with her apron, and having adjusted the old man to her own satisfaction +as well as his, she prepared to do a like office for the young one. +Having seated them fairly, and smoothed her apron, and gone through the +usual preliminaries, and placed herself a little aloof, on a third seat, +and rubbed her hands, and struggled into a brief pause in her brisk +action, she allowed her tongue to do the office for which her whole soul +was impatient. + +"Oh, Brother Cross, what a searching sermon you gave us yesterday. You +stirred the hearts of everybody, I warrant you, as you stirred up +mine. We've been a needing it for a precious long time, I tell you; and +there's no knowing what more's a wanting to make us sensible to the evil +that's in us. I know from myself what it is, and I guess from the doings +of others. We're none of us perfect, that's certain; but it's no harm +to say that some's more and some's not so perfect as others. There's a +difference in sin, Brother Cross, I'm a thinking, and I'd like you to +explain why, and what's the difference. One won't have so much, and one +will have more; one will take a longer spell of preaching, and half +the quantity will be a dose to work another out clean, entire. I'm not +boastful for myself, Brother Cross, but I do say, I'd give up in despair +if I thought it took half so much to do me, as it would take for a +person like that Mrs. Thackeray." + +"Sister Cooper," said brother Cross, rebukingly, "beware of the +temptation to vain-glory. Be not like the Pharisee, disdainful of the +publican. To be too well pleased with one's self is to be displeasing to +the Lord." + +"Oh, Brother Cross, don't be thinking that I'm over and above satisfied +with the goodness that's in me. I know I'm not so good. I have a great +deal of evil; but then it seems to me there's a difference in good and +a difference in evil. One has most of one and one has most of another. +None of us have much good, and all of us have a great deal of sin. God +help me, for I need his help--I have my own share; but as for that Mrs. +Thackeray, she's as full of wickedness as an an egg's full of meat." + +"It is not the part of Christianity, Sister Cooper," said John Cross +mildly, "to look into our neighbors' accounts and make comparisons +between their doings and our own. We can only do so at great risk of +making a false reckoning. Besides, Sister Cooper, it is business enough +on our hands, if we see to our own short-comings. As for Mrs. Thackeray, +I have no doubt she's no better than the rest of us, and we are all, as +you said before, children of suffering, and prone to sin as certain as +that the sparks fly upward. We must only watch and pray without ceasing, +particularly that we may not deceive ourselves with the most dangerous +sin of being too sure of our own works. The good deeds that we boast +of so much in our earthly day will shrivel and shrink up at the last +account to so small a size that the best of us, through shame and +confusion, will be only too ready to call upon the rocks and hills to +cover us. We are very weak and foolish all, Sister Cooper. We can't +believe ourselves too weak, or too mean, or too sinful. To believe this +with all our hearts, and to try to be better with all our strength, is +the true labor of religion. God send it to us, in all its sweetness and +perfection, so that we may fight the good fight without ceasing." + +"But if you could only hear of the doings of Mrs. Thackeray, Brother +Cross, you'd see how needful it would be to put forth all your strength +to bring her back to the right path." + +"The Lord will know. None of us can hide our evil from the eyes of the +Lord. I will strive with our sister, when I seek her, which will be +this very noon, but it is of yourself, Sister Cooper, and your daughter +Margaret, that I would speak. Where is she that I see her not?" + +This was the question that made our quasi hierophant look up with a +far greater degree of interest than he had felt in the long and random +twattle to which he had been compelled to listen. Where was she--that +fair daughter? He was impatient for the answer. But he was not long +detained in suspense. Next to her neighbors there was no subject of +whom the mother so loved to speak as the daughter, and the daughter's +excellences. + +"Ah! she is up-stairs, at her books, as usual. She does so love them +books, Brother Cross, I'm afraid it'll do harm to her health. She cares +for nothing half so well. Morning, noon, and night, all the same, you +find her poring over them; and even when she goes out to ramble, she +must have a book, and she wants no other company. For my part I can't +see what she finds in them to love so; for except to put a body to sleep +I never could see the use they were to any person yet." + +"Books are of two kinds," said Brother Cross gravely. "They are useful +or hurtful. The useful kinds are good, the hurtful kinds are bad. The +Holy Bible is the first book, and the only book, as I reckon it will be +the book that'll live longest. The 'Life of Whitefield' is a good book, +and I can recommend the sermons of that good man, Brother Peter Cummins, +that preached when I was a lad, all along through the back parts of +North Carolina, into South Carolina and Georgia. I can't say that +he came as far back into the west as these parts; but he was a most +faithful shepherd. There was a book of his sermons printed for the +benefit of his widow and children. He died, like that blessed man, John +Rogers, that we see in the primer-books, leaving a wife with eleven +children and one at the breast. His sermons are very precious reading. +One of them in particular, on the Grace of God, is a very falling of +manna in the wilderness. It freshens the soul, and throws light upon the +dark places in the wilderness. Ah! if only such books are printed, what +a precious world for poor souls it would be. But they print a great many +bad books now-a-days." + +The natural love of mischief which prevailed in the bosom of Alfred +Stevens now prompted him to take part in the conversation at this happy +moment. The opportunity was a tempting one. + +"The printers," said he, "are generally very bad men. They call +themselves devils, and take young lads and bring them up to their +business under that name!" + +The old lady threw up her hands, and John Cross, to whom this +intelligence was wholly new, inquired with a sort of awe-struck +gravity-- + +"Can this be true, Alfred Stevens? Is this possible?" + +"The fact, sir. They go by no other name among themselves; and you may +suppose, if they are not ashamed of the name, they are not unwilling +to perform the doings of the devil. Indeed, they are busy doing his +business from morning to night--and night to morning. They don't stop +for the sabbath. They work on Sunday the same as any other day, and if +they take any rest at all it is on Saturday, which would show them to be +a kind of Jews." + +"Good Lord deliver us!" ejaculated the widow. + +"Where, O! where?" exclaimed the Brother Cross with similar earnestness. +The game was too pleasant for Alfred Stevens. He pursued it. + +"In such cities," he continued, "as New York and Philadelphia, thousands +of these persons are kept in constant employ sending forth those books +of falsehood and folly which fill the hearts of the young with vain +imaginings, and mislead the footsteps of the unwary. In one of these +establishments, four persons preside, who are considered brothers; but +they are brothers in sin only, and are by some supposed to be no other. +They have called themselves after the names of saints and holy men; even +the names of the thrice blessed apostles, John and James, have been in +this fashion abused; but if it be true that the spirits of evil may even +in our day as of old embody themselves in mortal shape for the better +enthralling and destruction of mankind, then should I prefer to believe +that these persons were no other than the evil demons who ruled in +Ashdod and Assyria. Such is their perseverance in evil--such their busy +industry, which keeps a thousand authors (which is but another name for +priests and prophets) constantly at work to frame cunning falsehoods and +curious devices, and winning fancies, which when printed and made into +books, turn the heads of the young and unwary, and blind the soul to the +wrath which is to come." + +The uplifted hands of the widow Cooper still attested her wonder. + +"Lord save us!" she exclaimed, "I should not think it strange if Sister +Thackeray had some of these very books. Do ask, Brother Cross, when +you go to see her. She speaks much of books, and I see her reading them +whenever I look in at the back window." + +John Cross did not seem to give any heed to the remark of the old woman. +There was a theological point involved in one of the remarks of Alfred +Stevens which he evidently regarded as of the first importance. + +"What you say, Alfred Stevens, is very new and very strange to me, and I +should think from what I already know of the evil which is sometimes put +in printed books, that there was indeed a spirit of malice at work in +this way, to help the progress and the conquests of Satan among our +blind and feeble race. But I am not prepared to believe that God has +left it to Satan to devise so fearful a scheme for prosecuting his evil +designs as that of making the demons of Ashdod and Assyria take the +names of mortal men, while teeming to follow mortal occupations. It +would be fearful tidings for our poor race were this so. But if so, is +it not seen that there is a difference in the shapes of these persons. +If either of these brothers who blasphemously call themselves John and +James, after the manner of the apostles, shall be in very truth and +certainty that Dagon of the Philistines whom Jehovah smote before his +altar, will he not be made fishlike from the waist downward, and will +this not be seen by his followers and some of the thousands whom +he daily perverts to his evil purposes and so leads to eternal +destruction?" + +"It may be that it is permitted to such a demon to put on what shape he +thinks proper," replied Stevens; "but even if it is not, yet this would +not be the subject of any difference--it would scarcely prevent the +prosecution of this evil purpose. You are to remember, Mr. Cross--" + +"John Cross--plain John Cross, Alfred Stevens," was the interruption of +the preacher. + +"You are to remember," Stevens resumed, "that when the heart is full +of sin, the eyes are full of blindness. The people who believe in these +evil beings are incapable of seeing their deformities." + +"That is true--a sad truth." + +"And, again," continued Stevens, "there are devices of mere mortal art, +by which the deformities and defects of an individual may be concealed. +One of these brothers, I am told, is never to be seen except seated in +one position at the same desk, and this desk is so constructed, as +to hide his lower limbs in great part, while still enabling him to +prosecute his nefarious work." + +"It's clear enough, Brother Cross," exclaimed the widow Cooper, now +thoroughly convinced--"it's clear enough that there's something that he +wants to hide. Lord help us! but these things are terrible." + +"To the weak and the wicked, Sister Cooper, they are, as you say, +terrible, and hence the need that we should have our lamps trimmed and +lighted, for the same light which brings us to the sight of the Holy of +Holies, shows us the shape of hatefuless, the black and crouching form +of Satan, with nothing to conceal his deformity. Brother Stevens has +well said that when the heart is full of sin, the eyes are full of +blindness; and so we may say that when the heart is full of godliness, +the eyes are full of seeing. You can not blind them with devilish arts. +You can not delude them as to the true forms of Satan, let him take any +shape The eye of godliness sees clean through the mask of sin, as the +light of the sun pierces the thickest cloud, and brings day after the +darkest night." + +"Oh! what a blessed thing to hear you say so." + +"More blessed to believe, Sister Cooper, and believing, to pray with all +your heart for this same eye of godliness. But we should not only +pray but work. Working for God is the best sort of prayer. We must do +something in his behalf: and this reminds me, Sister Cooper, that if +there is so much evil spread abroad in these books, we should look +heedfully into the character of such as fall into the hands of the young +and the unmindful of our flock." + +"That is very true; that is just what I was thinking of, Brother Cross. +You can not look too close, I'm thinking into such books as you'll find +at the house of Widow Thackeray. I can give a pretty 'cute guess where +she gets all that sort of talk, that seems so natural at the end of her +tongue." + +"Verily, I will speak with Sister Thackeray on this subject," responded +the pastor--"but your own books, Sister Cooper, and those of your +daughter Margaret--if it is convenient, I should prefer to examine them +now while I am here." + +"What! Margaret's books! examine Margaret's books!" + +"Even so, while I am present and while Brother Stevens is here, also, to +give me his helping counsel in the way of judgment." + +"Why, bless us, Brother Cross, you don't suppose that my daughter +Margaret would keep any but the properest books? she's too sensible, I +can tell you, for that. She's no books but the best; none, I'll warrant +you, like them you'll find at Widow Thackeray's. She's not to be put off +with bad books. She goes through 'em with a glance of the eye. Ah! she's +too smart to be caught by the contrivances of those devils, though in +place of four brothers there was four thousand of 'em. No, no! let her +alone for that--she's a match for the best of 'em." + +"But as Brother Stevens said," continued John Cross, "where sin gets +into the heart, the eye is blinded to the truth. Now--" + +"Her eye's not blinded, Brother Cross, I can tell you. They can't cheat +her with their books. She has none but the very best. I'll answer for +them. None of them ever did me any harm; and I reckon none of them'll +ever hurt her. But I'm mistaken, if you don't have a real burning when +you get to Mrs. Thackeray's." + +"But, Sister Cooper--" commenced the preacher. + +"Yes, Brother Cross," replied the dame. + +"Books, as I said before, are of two kinds." + +"Yes, I know--good and bad--I only wonder there's no indifferent ones +among 'em," replied the lady. + +"They should be examined for the benefit of the young and ignorant." + +"Oh, yes, and for more besides, for Mrs. Thackeray's not young, that's +clear enough; and I know there's a good many things that she's not +ignorant of. She's precious knowing about many things that don't do her +much good; and if the books could unlearn her, I'd say for one let her +keep 'em. But as for looking at Margaret's books--why, Brother Cross, +you surely know Margaret?" + +The preacher answered meekly, but negatively. + +"Ain't she about the smartest girl you ever met with?" continued the +mother. + +"God has certainly blessed her with many gifts," was the reply, "but +where the trust is great, the responsibility is great also." + +"Don't she know it?" + +"I trust she does, Sister Cooper." + +"You may trust every bit of it. She's got the smartness, the same as it +is in books--" + +"But the gift of talents, Sister Cooper, is a dangerous gift." + +"I don't see, Brother Cross, how good things that come from God can be +dangerous things." + +"If I could see the books, Sister Cooper;--I say not that they are +evil--" + +John Cross began in tones that denoted something like despair; certainly +dissatisfaction was in them, when Alfred Stevens, who had long since +tired of what was going on, heard a light footfall behind him. He turned +his eyes and beheld the fair maiden, herself, the propriety of whose +reading was under discussion, standing in the doorway. It appeared that +she had gathered from what had reached her ears, some knowledge of what +was going on, for a smile of ineffable scorn curled her classic and +nobly-chiselled mouth, while her brow was the index to a very haughty +volume. In turning, Alfred Stevens betrayed to her the playful smile +upon his own lips--their eyes met, and that single glance established a +certain understanding between them. + +Her coming did not avail to stifle the subject of discussion. John Cross +was too resolute in the prosecution of his supposed duty, to give up the +cause he had once undertaken. He had all the inveteracy of the stout +old puritan. The usual introduction over and he resumed, though he now +addressed himself to the daughter rather than the mother. She scarcely +heard him to the end. + +"The books were my father's, Mr. Cross; they are valuable to me on +that account. They are dear to me on their own. They are almost my only +companions, and though I believe you would find nothing in them which +might be held detrimental, yet I must confess, if there were, I should +be sorry to be made acquainted with the fact. I have not yet discovered +it myself, and should be loath to have it shown by another." + +"But you will let me see them, Margaret?" + +"Yes, sir, whenever you please. I can have no objection to that, but if +by seeing them you only desire an opportunity to say what I shall read +and what not, I can only tell you that your labor will be taken in vain. +Indeed, the evil is already done. I have not a volume which I have not +read repeatedly." + +It is needless to add that Brother Cross was compelled to forego his +book examination at the widow Cooper's, though strongly recommended +there to press it at Widow Thackeray's. Alfred Stevens was a mute +observer during the interview, which did not last very long after the +appearance of Margaret. He was confirmed in all his previous impressions +of her beauty, nor did the brevity of the conference prevent him from +perceiving her intense self-esteem, which under certain influences of +temperament is only another name for vanity. Besides they had +exchanged glances which were volumes, rendering unnecessary much future +explanation. She had seen that he was secretly laughing at the simple +preacher, and that was a source of sympathy between them. She was very +much in the habit of doing the same thing. He, on the other hand, was +very well satisfied that the daughter of such a mother must be perverse +and vain; and he was moralist enough to know that there is no heart so +accessible to the tempter as the proud and wilful heart. But few words +had passed between them, but those were expressive, and they both +parted, with the firm conviction that they must necessarily meet again. + + + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +HOW THE TOAD GRINS UPON THE ALTAR. + + + + + +Shall we go the rounds with our pastor? Shall we look in upon him at +Mrs. Thackeray's, while, obeying the suggestion of the widow Cooper, he +purges her library of twenty volumes, casting out the devils and setting +up the true gods? It is scarcely necessary. Enough to know that, +under his expurgatorial finger, our beloved and bosom friend, William +Shakspere, was the first to suffer. Plays! The one word was enough. +Some lying histories were permitted to escape. The name of history saved +them! Robinson Crusoe was preserved as a true narrative; and Swift's +Tale of a Tub escaped, as it was assumed (there being no time to read +any of the books, and in this respect John Cross showed himself much +more of a professional critic than he conjectured) to be a treatise +on one branch of the cooperage business, and so, important to domestic +mechanics in a new country. The reader will remember the manner in which +the library of the knight of La Mancha was disposed of. He would err, +however, if he supposed that John Cross dismissed the books from the +window, or did anything farther than simply to open the eyes of Mrs. +Thackeray to the bad quality of some of the company she kept. That +sagacious lady did not think it worth while to dispute the ipse dixit of +a teacher so single-minded, if not sagacious. She bowed respectfully +to all his suggestions, promised no longer to bestow her smiles on the +undeserving--a promise of no small importance when it is remembered +that, at thirty-three, Mrs. Thackeray was for the first time a +widow--and that night she might have been seen laughing heartily with +Mesdames Ford and Quickly at the amorous pertinacity of the baffled +knight of Eastcheap. + +Under the paternal wing of John Cross, Alfred Stevens obtained the +desired entree into the bosom of the flock. He was everywhere admitted +with gladness--everywhere welcomed as to a home; and the unsophisticated +old teacher by whose agency this was effected, congratulated his +congregation and himself, on leaving the village, that he had left in it +a person so full of grace, and one who, with the blessing of God, was +so likely to bring about the birth of grace in others. The good old man +bestowed long and repeated counsels upon his neophyte. The course of +study which he prescribed was very simple. The Bible was the Alpha and +the Omega--it was the essential whole. It would be well to read other +books if they could be had--Clarke and Wesley were, of course, spoken +of--but they could be done without. The word of God was in the one +volume, and it needed no help from commentators to win its way and +suffice the hungering and thirsting soul. + +"If you could lay hands upon the book of sermons written by Brother +Peter Cummins, which his wife had printed, I'm thinking it would serve, +next to God's own blessed word, to put you in the right way. It's been +a great helping to me, Alfred Stevens, that same book of sermons; and, +I reckon it's because it's so good a book that it's not printed now. +I don't see it much about. But I'll get you one if I can, and bring +or send it to you, soon enough to help you to the wisdom that you're a +seeking after. If it only wakes the spirit in you as it did in me--if +it only stirs you up with the spirit of divine love--you'll find it easy +enough to understand the teachings of the holy volume. All things become +clear in that blessed light. By its help you read, and by its working +you inwardly digest all the needful learning. The Lord be with you, +Alfred Stevens, and bring to perfect ripening your present undertaking." + +"Amen!" was the solemn response of the hypocrite, but we need not say +what an irreverent and unholy thought lay at the bottom of his mind in +making this ejaculation. + +Before the departure of John Cross, the latter had made terms with +Squire Hinkley for the board and lodging of Brother Stevens and his +horse. Hinkley would have preferred taking nothing, considering the +praiseworthy purpose of the supposed theological student; but Stevens +shrunk from receiving such an obligation with a feeling of pride, which +yet had no scruples at practising so wretched an imposture. He insisted +upon making compensation, or upon leaving the house; and, not to incur +this risk, Hinkley consented to receive a weekly sum in payment; but the +charge was considerably smaller, as we may suppose, than it would +have been had the lodger simply appeared as an inoffensive traveller, +practising no fraud and making no professions of religion. + +Having effected all these arrangements, to his own satisfaction and +seemingly that of all others, John Cross departed once more into the +wilderness on his single-hearted ministry of love. A sturdy and an +honest worker was he in the tabernacle, with a right mind if not a very +wise one; and doing more good in his generation, and after the fashion +of his strength, than is often permitted to the stall-fed doctors of his +vocation. + +The reader will suppose that the old man has been already gone some +seven days. Meanwhile, the young student has fairly made himself at +home in Charlemont. He has a snug room, entirely to himself, at Squire +Hinkley's, and, by the excellent care of the worthy dame, it is provided +with the best bedding and the finest furniture. Her own hands sweep it +clean, morning and night, for the incipient parson; she makes up the +bed, and, in customary phrase, puts it in all respects to rights. His +wants are anticipated, his slightest suggestion met with the most prompt +consideration; and John Cross himself, humble and unexacting as he was, +might have felt some little twinges of mortal envy could he have +known that his protege promised to become a much greater favorite than +himself. + +This, indeed, seemed very likely to be the case. A good young man in the +sight of the ladies is always a more attractive person than a good old +man. Dame Hinkley, though no longer young herself, remembered that she +had been so, and preserved all her sympathies, in consequence, for +young people. She thought Alfred Stevens so handsome, and he smiled so +sweetly, and he spoke so genty, and, in short, so great had been his +progress in the affections of his hostess in the brief space of a single +week, that we are constrained to confess ourselves rejoiced that she +herself was an old woman, as well on her own account as on that of her +worthy spouse. + +Her good man was very well satisfied, whether from confidence or +indifference, that such should be the case. Her attentions to the young +stranger probably diverted them from himself. But not so with William +Hinkley--the son. We have already had some glimpses of the character +of this young man. We may now add that the short week's residence of +Stevens in Charlemont had increased the soreness at his heart. In that +week he had seen fairly established that intimacy between his rival +and the lady of his love which seemed to give the death-blow to any +pretensions of his. He had seen them meet; had seen them go forth +together; beheld their mutual eyes, and, turning his own inward, saw +how deeply his heart was concerned in the probable sympathies of theirs. +Then, to turn to his own habitation, and to behold THAT, mother and all, +devoted to the same absolute stranger; to pass unheeded in the presence +of those whom he best loved--over whom natural ties gave him inalienable +rights; to feel himself put aside for one only known of yesterday; to +look with yearning, and meet eyes only of disregard and indifference! +Such being the suggestions of his jealous and suffering nature, it +is surely no matter of wonder that the youth grew melancholy and +abstracted. + +Our adventurer was snugly seated in the little but select chamber which +had been given him in the house of Squire Hinkley. A table, neatly +spread with a cotton cover, stood before him: a travelling-portfolio +was opened beneath his hand, with a broad sheet of paper, already well +written over, and waiting nothing but his signature, and perhaps the +postscript. He was absorbed unusually in his cogitations, and nibbled +into bits the feathery end of the gray goosequill of which he had been +making such excellent use. While he meditates, unseeing, we will use the +liberty of an old acquaintance to scan the letter--for such it is--which +he has been writing. Perhaps we shall gather from it some matters which +it may concern us yet to know:-- + +"Dear Barnabas: The strangest adventure--positively the very +strangest--that ever happened to a son of Murkey's, will keep me +from the embraces of the brethren a few weeks longer. I am benighted, +bewildered, taken with art-magic, transmuted, TRANSMOGRIFIED, not +myself nor yet another, but, as they say in Mississippi, 'a sort +of betweenity.' Fancy me suddenly become a convert to the bluest +presbyterianism, as our late excellent brother Woodford became, when he +found that he could not get Moll Parkinson on any other terms--and your +guess will not be very far from the true one. I am suddenly touched with +conviction. I have seen a light on my way from Tarsus. The scales have +fallen from my eyes. I have seen the wickedness of my ways, and yours +too, you dog; and, having resolved on my own repentance, I am taking +lessons which shall enable me to effect yours. Precious deal of salt +will it need for that! Salt river will fall, while its value rises. But +the glory of the thing--think of that, my boy! What a triumph it will +be to revolutionize Murkey's!--to turnout the drinkers and smokers, and +money-changers; to say, 'Hem! my brethren, let us pay no more taxes to +sin in this place!' There shall be no more cakes and ale. Ginger shall +have no heat i' the mouth there; and, in place of smoking meats and +tobacco, give you nothing but smoking methodism! Won't that be a sight +and a triumph which shall stir the dry bones in our valley--ay, and +bones not so dry? There shall be a quaking of the flesh in sundry +places. Flam will perish in the first fit of consternation; and if Joe +Burke's sides do not run into sop and jelly, through the mere humor of +the thing, then prophecy is out of its element quite. + +"Seriously, you dog, I have become a theological student! Don't you see +proofs of my progress in my unctuous phraseology. I was taken suddenly +upon the highway--a brand plucked from the burning--and to be stuck up +on high, still lighted, however, as a sort of lantern and lighthouse to +other wayfarers--wandering rogues like yourself, who need some better +lights than your own if it only be to show you how to sin decently. I am +professedly a convert to the true faith, though which that is, I think, +has not well been determined among you at Murkey's, or, indeed, anywhere +else. I believe the vox populi, vox Dei, still comprises the only +wholesome decision which has yet been made on the subject. The popular +vote here declares it to be methodism; with you it is baptism or +presbyterianism--which? I am a flexible student, however, and when I meet +you again at Murkey's, shall be prepared to concur with the majority. + +"But, in sober fact, I am a professor--actually recognised by my +neighbors as one of the elect--set apart to be and do mighty things. +How I came so, will call for a long story, which I defer to another +occasion. Enough to tell you that an accidental rencontre with a silly +old preacher (whose gullet I filled with raw brandy, which I recommended +to him, under another name, as a sovereign remedy against flatulence, +and which nearly strangled him he took such a premeditated swallow), +brought me into one of the loveliest little villages in all this western +country, and there I saw many things--among others--a woman!-- + +"A woman!--that one word, you dog, will explain the mystery--will +show you why I am thus transmuted, TRANSMOGRIFIED, and in 'a state of +betweenity.' Nothing less, I assure you, could make me disguise myself +after the present fashion; wear the sanctimonious and sour phiz which +the common law of modern religion prescribes, and keep me much longer +from the pleasanter communion of such glorious imps, as I suppose, are, +even now, beginning to gather in the dingy smoke-room of our sovereign +Murkey. But this woman, you will ask. Ay, ay, but you shall have no +answer yet. It shall be enough for you that she is a queen of Sheba, +after her own fashion. A proud, imperious, passionate creature--tall, +really beautiful--and so majestic! You should see the flashing of her +eyes to know what sort of a thing is moral lightning. Her face kindles +up in an instant. She is an intensifier, and like most such, cursedly +smart. Young too--scarce eighteen, I think; queer too--almost tyrannical +at times--but full of blood, of unregulated passions, moody, capricious, +and, of course, easy game, if the sportsman knows anything of the habits +of the bird. She is a country-girl, but no hoyden. Her intensity of +character, her pride and great self-esteem, have made her a solitary. +Unsophisticated in some respects, she is yet not to be surprised. In +solitude, and a taste for it, she has acquired a sort of moral composure +which makes her secure against surprise. I am really taken with the +girl, and COULD love her, I tell you--nay, do love her--so long as love +can keep himself--out of a state of bondage! I do not think, at this +moment, that I shall violate any of the laws of the conventicle, like +small-witted Brother Woodford; though, so far as the woman is concerned, +I should leave it without argument to the free vote of all the Lads of +Fancy that ever gather round Murkey's round table, if my justification +for turning traitor, would not prove immeasurably more complete than +his. + +"So! so! There are bones enough for you to crunch, you professional +bandog. I had not meant to tell you half so much. There is some danger +that one may lose his game altogether, if he suffers his nose to point +unnecessarily to the cover where it lies. I know what keen scents are +in the club, some of which would be on my track in no time if they knew +where to find me; but I shall baffle you, you villains. My post-town is +fifty miles from the place where I pursue my theological studies; you +are too wise to attempt a wild-goose chase. You may smack your chaps, +Barney, with envy; bite them too if you please, and it will only whet +my own sense of pleasure to fancy your confusion, and your hopeless +denunciations in the club. I shall be back in time for term--meanwhile +get the papers in readiness. Write to me at the post-town of Ellisland, +and remember to address me as Alfred Stevens--nay, perhaps, you may even +say, 'Rev. Alfred Stevens,' it will grace the externals of the document +with a more unctuous aspect, and secure the recipient a more wholesome +degree of respect. Send all my letters to this town under envelope with +this direction. I wrote you twice from Somerville. Did I tell you that +old Hunks has been deused liberal? I can laugh at the small terms, +yet go to Murkey's and shine through the smoke with the best of you. I +solicit the prayers of the Round Table. + +"Faithfully, yours, &c." + +So far our profligate had written to his brother profligate, when a tap +was heard at the entrance of his chamber. Thrusting the written papers +into his portfolio, he rose, and opening the door discovered his hostess +at the entrance. + +"I came, Brother Stevens," said the old lady, "if you not too busy in +your studies, to have a little talk with you, and to get your counsel +upon a subject that a little distresses me. But you look as if you were +busy now--" + +"Not too busy, Mrs. Hinkley, to oblige you in this or in any other +respect," replied the guest with suitable suavity of expression--"shall +I attend you down stairs." + +"Oh! no! it won't need," said she. "I'll take a seat with you awhile. We +shall be less liable to interruption here." + +Stevens scarcely repressed his smile, but the seniority of the old lady +made her proceedings very innocent, however much they might have +been adverse to the rules. He threw wide the door, and without more +hesitation she followed him at once into the chamber. + + + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE MOTHER'S GRIEFS. + + + + + +The business upon which Mrs. Hinkley sought the chamber of her guest was +a very simple one, and easily expressed. Not that she expressed it in +few words. That is scarcely possible at any time with an ancient lady. +But the long story which she told, when compressed into intelligible +form, related to her son William. She had some maternal fears on his +account. The lad was a decided melancholic. His appetite was bad; his +looks were thin and unhappy; he lacked the usual spirit of youth; he +lacked his own usual spirit. What was the cause of the change which had +come over him so suddenly, she could not divine. Her anxiety was for +the remedy. She had consulted Brother Cross on the subject before he +departed; but that good man, after a brief examination of the patient, +had freely admitted his inability to say what was the matter with him, +and what was proper for his cure. To the object of this solicitude +himself, he had given much good counsel, concluding finally with a +recommendation to read devoutly certain chapters in Job and Isaiah. +It appears that William Hinkley submitted to all this scrutiny with +exemplary fortitude, but gave no satisfactory answers to any of the +questions asked him. He had no complaints, he denied any suffering; +and expressed himself annoyed at the inquisition into his thoughts and +feelings. This annoyance had been expressed, however, with the subdued +tones and language of one habitually gentle and modest. Whenever he was +approached on the subject, as the good old lady assured her guest, he +shook off his questioners with no little haste, and took to the woods +for the rest of the day. "That day," said she, "you needn't look for +William Hinkley to his dinner." + +Stevens had been struck with the deportment of this youth, which had +seemed to him haughty and repulsive; and, as he fancied, characterized +by some sentiment of hostility for himself. He was surprised therefore +to learn from the old lady that the lad was remarkable for his +gentleness. + +"How long has he been in this way, Mrs. Hinkley?" he asked with some +curiosity. + +"Well now, Brother Stevens, I can't tell you. It's been growing on him +for some time. I reckon it's a matter of more than four months since I +first seen it; but it's only been a few weeks that I have spoken to him. +Brother Cross spoke to him only Monday of last week. My old man don't +seem to see so much of it; but I know there's a great change in him now +from what there used to be. A mother's eye sees a great way farther into +the hearts of her children, Brother Stevens, than any other persons; and +I can see plainly that William is no more the same boy--no! nor nothing +like it--that he once was. Why, once, he was all life, and good humor; +could dance and sing with the merriest among them; and was always so +good and kind, and loved to do whatever would please a body; and was +always with somebody, or other, making merry, and planning the prettiest +sports. Now, he don't sing, nor dance, nor play; when you see him, you +'most always see him alone. He goes by himself into the woods, and he'll +be going over the hills all day, nobody with him, and never seeming to +care about his food, and what's more strange, never looking at the books +that he used to be so fond of." + +"He has been fond of books, then--had he many?" + +"Oh, yes, a whole drawer of them, and he used to get them besides from +the schoolmaster, Mr. Calvert, a very good man that lives about half a +mile from the village, and has a world of books. But now he neither gets +books from other people nor reads what he's got. I'm dubious, Brother +Stevens, that he's read too much for his own good. Something's not right +here, I'm a thinking." + +The good old lady touched her head with her finger and in this manner +indicated her conjecture as to the seat of her son's disease. Stevens +answered her encouragingly. + +"I scarcely think, Mrs. Hinkley, that it can be anything so bad. The +young man is at that age when a change naturally takes place in the +mind and habits. He wants to go into the world, I suspect. He's probably +tired of doing nothing. What is to be his business? It's high time that +such a youth should have made a choice." + +"That's true, Brother Stevens, but he's been the apple to our eyes, +and we haven't been willing that he should take up any business that +would--carry him away from us. He's done a little farming about the +country, but that took him away, and latterly he's kept pretty much at +home, going over his books and studying, now one and now another, just +as Mr. Calvert gave them to him." + +"What studies did he pursue?" + +"Well, I can't tell you. He was a good time at Latin, and then he wants +to be a lawyer;--" + +"A lawyer!" + +"Yes, he had a great notion to be a lawyer and was at his books pretty +hard for a good year, constant, day by day, until, as I said before, +about four months ago, when I saw that he was growing thin, and that he +had put down the books altogether, and had the change come over him just +as I told you. You see how thin he is now. You'd scarce believe him to +be the same person if you'd seen him then. Why his cheeks were as full +and as red as roses, and his eye was always shining and laughing, and +he had the liveliest step, and between him and Ned Hinkley, his cousin, +what with flute and fiddle, they kept the house in a constant uproar, +and we were all so happy. Now, it isn't once a month that we hear the +sound of the fiddle in the house. He never sings, and he never dances, +and he never plays, and what little he lets us see of him, is always so +sad and so spiritless that I feel heartsick whenever I look upon him. +Oh! Brother Stevens, if you could only find out what's the matter, and +tell us what to do, it would be the most blessed kindness, and I'd never +forget it, or forget you, to my dying day." + +"Whatever I can do, Mrs. Hinkley, shall surely be done. I will see and +speak with your son." + +"Oh! do--that's a dear good sir. I'm sure if you only talk to him and +advise him it will do him good." + +"Without being so sure, ma'am, I will certainly try to please you. +Though I think you see the matter with too serious eyes. Such changes +are natural enough to young people, and to old ones too. But what may be +your son's age." + +"Nineteen last April." + +"Quite a man for his years, Mrs. Hinkley." + +"Isn't he?" + +"He will do you credit yet." + +"Ah! if I could believe so. But you'll speak to him, Brother Stevens? +You'll try and bring all to rights?" + +"Rely upon me to do what I can;--to do my best." + +"Well, that's as much as any man can do, and I'm sure I'll be so +happy--we shall all be so much indebted to you." + +"Do not speak of it, my dear madam," said Stevens, bowing with profound +deference as the old lady took her departure. She went off with light +heart, having great faith in the powers of the holy man, and an equal +faith in his sincerity. + +"What a bore!" he muttered as he closed the door behind her. "This is +one of the penalties, I suppose, which I must pay for my privileges. I +shall be called upon to reform the morals and manners, and look into the +petty cares of every chuckle-headed boor and boor's brat for ten miles +round. See why boys reject their mush, and why the girls dislike to +listen to the exhortations of a mamma, who requires them to leave undone +what she has done herself--and with sufficient reason too, if her own +experience be not wholly profitless. Well, I must submit. There are +advantages, however; I shall have other pupils to tutor, and it shall +go hard with me if all the grapes prove sour where the vines are so +various." + +The student of divinity, after these conclusions, prepared to make his +toilet. Very few of these students, in their extreme solicitude for the +well being of the inner man, show themselves wholly regardless of their +externals. Even mourning, it appears, requires to be disposed by a +fashionable costumer. Though the garments to which the necessities of +travel limited Brother Stevens were not various, they were yet select. +The good young man had an affection for his person, which was such +certainly as to deserve his care. On this occasion he was more than +usually particular. He did not scruple to discard the white cravat. +For this he substituted a handkerchief which had the prettiest sprig +of lilac, on a ground of the most delicate lemon color. He consulted +complexions, and his mirror determined him in favor of this pattern. +Brother Stevens would not have worn it had he been summoned, in his +new vocation, to preach or pray at the conventicle; nor would he have +dreamed of anything but a black stock had his business been to address +the democracy from the top of a cider-barrel. His habits, under such +necessities, would have been made to correspond with the principles +with which such a situation more distinctly called for. + +But the thoughts of our worthy brother ran upon other objects. He was +thinking of Margaret Cooper. He was about to pay that damsel a visit. +His progress, we may suppose, had not been inconsiderable when we are +told that his present visit was one of previous arrangement. They were +about to go forth on a ramble together--the woods were so wild +and lovely--the rocks surrounding Charlemont were so very +picturesque;--there was the quietest tarn, a sort of basin in the bosom +of the hills at a little distance, which she was to show him; and +there was the sweetest stream in the world, that meandered in the +neighborhood; and Brother Stevens so loved the picturesque--lakes +embosomed in hills, and streams stealing through unbroken forests, and +all so much the more devotedly, when he had such a companion as Margaret +Cooper. + +And Margaret Cooper!--she the wild, the impassioned. A dreamer--a +muse--filled with ambitious thoughts--proud, vain, aspiring after the +vague, the unfathomable! What was her joy, now that she could speak her +whole soul, with all its passionate fullness, to understanding ears! +Stevens and herself had already spoken together. Her books had been his +books. The glowing passages which she loved to repeat, were also the +favorite passages in his memory. Over the burning and thrilling strains +of Byron, the tender and spiritual of Shelley, the graceful and soft of +Campbell, she loved to linger. They filled her thoughts. They made her +thoughts. She felt that her true utterance lay in their language; and +this language, until now, had fallen dead and without fruit upon the +dull ears of her companions in Charlemont. What was their fiddling and +festivity to her! What their tedious recreations by hillside or +stream, when she had to depress her speech to the base levels of their +unimaginative souls! The loveliness of nature itself, unrepresented +by the glowing hues of poetry, grew tame, if not offensive; and when +challenged to its contemplation by those to whom the muse was nothing, +the fancy of the true observer grew chilled and heavy, and the scenes of +beauty seemed prostituted in their glance. + +We have all felt this. Nothing can more annoy the soul of taste or +sensibility than to behold its favorite scene and subject fail in +awakening others to that emotion which it has inspired in ourselves. +We turn away in haste, lest the object of our worship should become +degraded by a longer survey. Enthusiasm recoils at a denial of sympathy; +and all the worth of our companion, in a thousand other respects, fails +to reconcile us to his coldness and indifference. + +That Alfred Stevens had taste and talent--that he was well read in the +volumes which had been her favorite study, Margaret Cooper needed no +long time to discover. She soon ascribed to him qualities and tastes +which were beyond his nature. Deceived by his tact, she believed in his +enthusiasm. He soon discovered HER tastes; and she found equally soon +that HIS were like her own. After this discovery, she gave him credit +for other and more important possessions; and little dreamed that, +while he responded to her glowing sentiments with others equally +glowing--avowed the same love for the same authors, and concurred with +her in the preference of the same passages--his feelings were as little +susceptible of sympathy with hers as would have been those of the cold +demon Mephistopheles! While her eye was flashing, her cheek flushed, her +breast heaving with the burning thoughts and strains of the master to +whom her beautiful lips were giving utterance, he was simply sensible +to HER beauty--to its strange, wild charms--and meditating thoughts +from which the soul of true poetry recoils with the last feelings of +aversion. Even the passion which he felt while he surveyed her, foreign +as it was to those legitimate emotions which her ambition and her genius +would equally have tended to inspire in any justly-minded nature, +might well be considered frigid--regarded as the result of deliberate +artifice--the true offspring of an habitual and base indulgence. + +It was to meet this unsophisticated, impassioned, and confiding girl, +that Alfred Stevens bestowed such particular pains on his costume. He +felt its deficiencies, and, accordingly, the necessity of making the +most of it; for, though he perfectly well knew that such a woman as +Margaret Cooper would have been the very last to regard the mere garment +in which a congenial nature is arrayed, yet he also well knew that the +costume is not less indicative of the tastes than the wealth of the +wearer. You will see thousands of persons, men and women, richly +dressed, and but one will be WELL dressed: that one, most generally, +will be the individual who is perhaps of all others possessed of +the least resources for dress, other than those which dwell in the +well-arranged mind, the well-disposing taste, and the happy, crowning +fancy. + +His tasks of the toilet were at length ended, and he was preparing to +go forth. He was about to leave the chamber, had already placed his hand +upon the latch of the door, when he heard the voice of his hostess, on +the stairway, in seeming expostulation with her son. He was about to +forbear his purpose of departure as the parties had retired, when, +remembering the solicitude of the lady, and thinking it would show that +zest in her service which he really could not entertain, he determined +at once to to join the young man, and begin with him that certain degree +of intimacy without which it could scarcely be supposed that he could +broach the subject of his personal affairs. He felt somewhat the +awkwardness of this assumed duty, but then he recollected his vocation; +he knew the paramount influence of the clergy upon all classes of +persons in the West, and, with the conscious superiority derived +from greater years and better education, he felt himself fortified +in undertaking the paternal office which the fond, foolish mother had +confided to his hands. Accordingly, descending the stairs briskly, he +joined the two at the entrance of the dwelling. The son was already on +the outside; the mother stood in the doorway: and, as Stevens appeared +and drew nigh, William Hinkley bowed, and turned away as if to withdraw. + +"If you have no objections, Mr. Hinkley," said Stevens, "I will join +you. You seem to be about to go my way." + +The young man paused with an air of reluctance, muttered something +which was not altogether intelligible, but which Stevens construed into +assent, and the two set forth together--the good old matron giving a +glance of gratitude to the benevolent young student which her son did +not fail to note, while, at the same time, a sentence which evidently +conveyed some motherly rebuke, was addressed to his already-irritated +ears. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +WRESTLING. + + + + + +Alfred Stevens, as he walked behind his young companion, observed him +with a more deliberate survey than he had yet taken. Hitherto, the young +man had challenged but little of his scrutiny. He had simply noted him +for a tall youth, yet in the green, who appeared of a sulky, retiring +nature, and whose looks had seemed to him on one or more occasions +to manifest something like distaste for himself. The complacency of +Stevens, however, was too well grounded to be much disturbed by such an +exhibition. Perhaps, indeed, he would have derived a malicious sort of +satisfaction in making a presumptuous lad feel his inferiority. He +had just that smallness of spirit which would find its triumph in the +success of such a performance. + +He now observed that the youth was well formed, tall, not +ungraceful--with features of singular intelligence, though subdued to +the verge of sadness. His face was pale and thin, his eyes were a little +sunken, and his air, expression, and general outside, denoted a youth of +keen sensibilities, who had suffered some disappointment. + +In making this examination, Alfred Stevens was not awakened to any +generous purposes. He designed, in reality, nothing more than to +acquit himself of the duty he had undertaken with the smallest possible +exertion. His own mind was one of that mediocre character which the +heart never informs. His scrutiny, therefore, though it enabled him to +perceive that the young man had qualities of worth, was not such as to +prompt any real curiosity to examine further. A really superior mind +would have been moved to look into these resources; and, without other +motive than that of bringing a young, laboring, and ardent soul out of +the meshes of a new and bewildering thought or situation, would have +addressed himself to the task with that degree of solicitous earnestness +which disarms prejudice and invites and wins confidence. But, with his +first impression, that the whole business was a "bore," our benevolent +young teacher determined on getting through with it with the least +possible effort. He saw that the youth carried a book under his arm, the +externals of which, so uniform and discouraging as they appear in every +legal library, could not well be questioned as belonging to some such +venerable receptacle of barbarous phrase and rigid authority. The +circumstance afforded him an occasion to begin a conversation, +the opening of which, with all his coolness, was a subject of some +awkwardness. + +"You seem a student like myself, Mr. Hinkley, and, if I mistake not from +the appearance of your book, you are taking up the profession which I am +about to lay down." + +"This is a law-book, sir," said Hinkley, in accents which were rather +meek than cold; "it is Blackstone." + +"Ah! I thought as much. Have you been long a student?" + +"I may scarcely consider myself one yet. I have read, sir, rather than +studied." + +"A good distinction, not often made. But, do you incline to law +seriously?" + +"Yes, sir--I know no occupation to which I so much incline." + +"The law is a very arduous profession. It requires a rare union of +industry, talent, and knowledge of mankind to be a good lawyer." + +"I should think so, sir." + +"Few succeed where thousands fail. Young men are very apt to mistake +inclination for ability; and to be a poor lawyer--" + +"Is to be worse than poor--is to be despicable!" replied Hinkley with a +half-smile, as he interrupted a speech which might have been construed +into a very contemptuous commentary on his own pretensions. It would +seem that the young man had so understood it. He continued thus:-- + +"It may be so with me, sir. It is not improbable that I deceive myself, +and confound inclination with ability." + +"Oh, pardon me, my dear young friend," said Stevens patronizingly; +"but I do not say so. I utter a mere generality. Of course, I can know +nothing on the subject of your abilities. I should be glad to know. +I should like to converse with you. But the law is very arduous, very +exacting. It requires a good mind, and it requires the whole of it. +There is no such thing as being a good lawyer from merely reading law. +You can't bolt it as we do food in this country. We must chew upon it. +It must be well digested. You seem to have the right notion on this +subject. I should judge so from two things: the distinction which +you made between the reader and the student; and the fact that your +appearance is that of the student. I am afraid, my young friend, that +you overwork yourself. You look thin, and pale, and unhappy. You should +be careful that your passion for study is not indulged in at the peril +of your health." + +The frame of the young man seemed to be suddenly agitated. His face was +flushed, and a keen, quick, flash of anger seemed to lighten in his eyes +as he looked up to the paternal counsellor and replied:-- + +"I thank you, sir, for your interest, but it is premature. I am not +conscious that my health suffers from this or any other cause." + +"Nay, my young friend, do not deceive yourself. You perhaps underrate +your own industry. It is very difficult matter to decide how much we can +do and how much we ought to do, in the way of study. No mere thinking +can determine this matter for us. It can only be decided by being able +to see what others do and can endure. In a little country village like +this, one can not easily determine; and the difficulty may be increased +somewhat by one's own conviction, of the immense deal that one has to +learn. If you were to spend a year in some tolerably large community. +Perhaps you meditate some such plan?". + +"I do not, sir," was the cold reply. + +"Indeed; and have you no desire that way?" + +"None!" + +"Very strange! at your time of life the natural desire is to go into the +great world. Even the student fancies he can learn better there than he +can anywhere else--and so he can." + +"Indeed, sir: if I may be so bold to ask, why, with this opinion, have +you left the great city to bury yourself in a miserable village like +Charlemont?" + +The question was so quickly put, and with so much apparent keenness, +that Stevens found the tables suddenly reversed. But he was in nowise +discomposed. He answered promptly. + +"You forget," he said, "that I was speaking of very young men, of an +ambitious temper, who were seeking to become lawyers. The student of +divinity may very well be supposed to be one who would withdraw himself +from the scene of ambition, strifes, vanities, and tumultuous passions." + +"You speak, sir, as if there were a material difference in our years?" +said Hinkley inquiringly. + +"Perhaps it is less than in our experience, my young friend," was the +answer of the other, betraying that quiet sense of superiority which +would have been felt more gallingly by Hinkley had he been of a less +modest nature. Still, it had the effect of arousing some of the animal +in his blood, and he responded in a sentence which was not entirely +without its sneer, though it probably passed without penetrating such a +buff of self-esteem as guarded the sensibilities of our adventurer. + +"You are fortunate sir, if, at your time of life, you have succeeded +in withdrawing your thoughts and feelings, with your person, from such +scenes of ambition as you speak of. But I fancy the passions dwell with +us in the country as well as with the wiser people in the town; and I am +not sure that there is any pursuit much more free from their intrusion +than that of the law." + +"Your remark exhibits penetration, Mr. Hinkley. I should not be +surprised if you have chosen your profession properly. Still, I should +counsel you not to overwork yourself. Bear with me, sir; I feel an +interest in your behalf, and I must think you do so. Allow me to be +something of a judge in this matter. You are aware, sir, that I too have +been a lawyer." + +The youth bowed stiffly. + +"If I can lend you any assistance in your studies, I will do so. Let me +arrange them for you, and portion out your time. I know something about +that, and will save you from injuring your health. On this point you +evidently need instruction. You are doing yourself hurt. Your appearance +is matter of distress and apprehension to your parents." + +"To my parents, sir?" + +"Your mother, I mean! She spoke to me about you this very morning. She +is distressed at some unaccountable changes which have taken place in +your manners, your health, your personal appearance. Of course I can say +nothing on the subject of the past, or of these changes; but I may be +permitted to say that your present looks do not betoken health, and I +have supposed this to be on account of your studies. I promised your +good mother to confer with you, and counsel you, and if I can be of any +help--"' + +"You are very good, sir!" + +The young man spoke bitterly. His gorge was rising. It was not easy to +suppress his vexation with his mother, and the indignation which he +felt at the supercilious approaches of the agent whom she had employed. +Besides, his mind, not less than his feelings, was rising in vigor in +due degree with the pressure put upon it. + +"You are very good, sir, and I am very much obliged to you. I could have +wished, however, that my mother had not given you this trouble, sir. She +certainly must have been thinking of Mr. John Cross. She could scarcely +have hoped that any good could have resulted to me, from the counsel of +one who is so little older than myself." + +This speech made our adventurer elevate his eyebrows. He absolutely +stopped short to look upon the speaker. William Hinkley stopped short +also. His eye encountered that of Stevens with an expression as full of +defiance as firmness. His cheeks glowed with the generous indignation +which filled his veins. + +"This fellow has something in him after all," was the involuntary +reflection that rose to the other's mind. The effect was, however, +not very beneficial to his own manner. Instead of having the effect of +impressing upon Stevens the necessity of working cautiously, the show +of defiance which he saw tended to provoke and annoy him. The youth had +displayed so much propriety in his anger, had been so moderate as +well as firm, and had uttered his answer with so much dignity and +correctness, that he felt himself rebuked. To be encountered by an +unsophisticated boy, and foiled, though but for an instant--slightly +estimated, though but by a youth, and him too, a mere rustic--was +mortifying to the self-esteem that rather precipitately hurried to +resent it. + +"You take it seriously, Mr. Hinkley. But surely an offer of service +need not be mistaken. As for the trifling difference which may be in +our years, that is perhaps nothing to the difference which may be in our +experience, our knowledge of the world, our opportunities and studies." + +"Surely, sir; all these MAY be, but at all events we are not bound to +assume their existence until it is shown." + +"Oh, you are likely to prove an adept in the law, Mr. Hinkley." + +"I trust, sir, that your progress may be as great in the church." + +"Ha!--do I understand you? There is war between us then?" said Stevens, +watching the animated and speaking countenance of William Hinkley with +increasing curiosity. + +"Ay, sir--there is!" was the spirited reply of the youth. "Let it be +war; I am the better pleased, sir, that you are the first to proclaim +it." + +"Very good," said Stevens, "be it so, if you will. At all events you can +have no objection to say why it should be so." + +"Do you ask, sir?" + +"Surely; for I can not guess." + +"You are less sagacious, then, than I had fancied you. You, scarce +older than myself--a stranger among us--come to me in the language of a +father, or a master, and without asking what I have of feeling, or +what I lack of sense, undertake deliberately to wound the one, while +insolently presuming to inform the other." + +"At the request of your own mother!" + +"Pshaw! what man of sense or honesty would urge such a plea. Years, and +long intimacy, and wisdom admitted to be superior, could alone justify +the presumption." + +The cheeks of Stevens became scalding hot. + +"Young man!" he exclaimed, "there is something more than this!" + +"What! would it need more were our positions reversed?" demanded Hinkley +with a promptness that surprised himself. + +"Perhaps not! would you provoke me to personal violence?" + +"Ha! might I hope for that? surely you forget that you are a churchman?" + +Stevens paused awhile before he answered. His eyes looked vacantly +around him. By this time they had left the more thickly-settled parts of +the village considerably behind them. But a few more dwellings lay along +the path on which they were approaching. On the left, a gorge opened in +the hills by which the valley was dotted, which seemed a pathway, and +did indeed lead to one or more dwellings which were out of sight in the +opposite valley. The region to which this pathway led was very secluded, +and the eye of Stevens surveyed it for a few moments in silence. The +words of Hinkley unquestionably conveyed a challenge. According to the +practice of the country, AS A LAWYER, he would have been bound to have +taken it as such. A moment was required for reflection. His former and +present position caused a conflict in his mind. The last sentence of +Hinkley, and a sudden glimpse which he just then caught of the residence +of Margaret Cooper, determined his answer. + +"I thank you, young man, for reminding me of my duties. You had nearly +provoked the old passions and old practices into revival. I forgive +you--you misunderstand me clearly. I know not how I have offended you, +for my only purpose was to serve your mother and yourself. I may have +done this unwisely. I will not attempt to prove that I have not. At all +events, assured of my own motives, I leave you to yourself. You will +probably ere long feel the injustice you have done me!" + +He continued on his way, leaving William Hinkley almost rooted to the +spot. The poor youth was actually stunned, not by what was said to him, +but by the sudden consciousness of his own vehemence. He had expressed +himself with a boldness and an energy of which neither himself nor his +friend, until now, would have thought him capable. A moment's pause in +the provocation, and the feelings which had goaded him on were taken +with a revulsion quite as sudden. As he knew not well what he had said, +so he fancied he had said everything precisely as the passionate thought +had suggested it in his own mind. Already he began to blame himself--to +feel that he had done wrong--that there had been nothing in the conduct +or manner of Stevens, however unpleasant, to justify his own violence; +and that the true secret of his anger was to be found in that +instinctive hostility which he had felt for his rival from the first. +The more he mused, the more he became humbled by his thoughts; and when +he recollected the avowed profession of Stevens his shame increased. He +felt how shocking it was to intimate to a sworn non-combatant the idea +of a personal conflict. To what point of self-abasement his thoughts +would have carried him, may only be conjectured; he might have hurried +forward to overtake his antagonist with the distinct purpose of making +the most ample apology; nay, more, such was the distinct thought which +was now pressing upon his mind, when he was saved from this humiliation +by perceiving that Stevens had already reached, and was about to enter +the dwelling of Margaret Cooper. With this sight, every thought and +feeling gave place to that of baffled love, and disappointed affection. +With a bitter groan he turned up the gorge, and soon shut himself from +sight of the now hateful habitation. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE MASTER AND HIS PUPILS. + + + + + +The course of the young rustic was pursued for half a mile further till +he came to a little cottage of which the eye could take no cognizance +from any part of the village. It was embowelled in a glen of its own--a +mere cup of the slightly-rising hills, and so encircled by foliage that +it needed a very near approach of the stranger before he became aware of +its existence. The structure was very small, a sort of square box with +a cap upon it, and consisted of two rooms only on a ground floor, with a +little lean-to or shed-room in the rear, intended for a kitchen. As +you drew nigh and passed through the thick fringe of wood by which +its approach was guarded, the space opened before you, and you found +yourself in a sort of amphitheatre, of which the cottage was the centre. +A few trees dotted this area, large and massive trees, and seemingly +preserved for purposes of shade only. It was the quietest spot in the +world, and inspired just that sort of feeling in the contemplative +stranger which would be awakened by a ramble among the roofless ruins of +the ancient abbey. It was a home for contemplation--in which one might +easily forget the busy world without, and deliver himself up, without an +effort, to the sweetly sad musings of the anchorite. + +The place was occupied, however. A human heart beat within the humble +shed, and there was a spirit, sheltered by its quiet, that mused many +high thoughts, and dreamed in equal congratulation and self-reproach, of +that busy world from which it was an exile. The visit of William Hinkley +was not paid to the solitude. A venerable man, of large frame, and +benignant aspect, sat beneath an aged tree, paternal in its appearance +like himself. This person might be between fifty and sixty years of age. +His hair, though very thick and vigorous, was as white as driven snow. +But there were few wrinkles on his face, and his complexion was the +clear red and white of a healthy and sanguine temperament. His brow was +large and lofty. It had many more wrinkles than his face. There were two +large horizontal seams upon it that denoted the exercise of a very +busy thought. But the expression of his eye was that of the most +unembarrassed benevolence and peace. It was subdued and sometimes sad, +but then it had the sweetest, playfullest twinkle in the world. +His mouth, which was small and beautifully formed, wore a similar +expression. In short he was what we would call a handsome old gentleman, +whose appearance did not offend taste, and whose kind looks invited +confidence. Nor would we mistake his character. + +This person was the Mr. Calvert, the schoolmaster of the village, of +whom Mrs. Hinkley spoke to Alfred Stevens in discussing the condition of +her son. His tasks were over for the day. The light-hearted rabble whom +he taught, released from his dominion which was not severe, were, by +this time, scampering over the hills, as far from their usual place +of restraint as the moderate strength of their legs could carry them. +Though let loose, boys are not apt to feel their liberty in its prime +and freshness, immediately in the neighborhood of the schoolhouse. +The old gentleman left to himself, sat out in the open air, beneath +a massive oak, the paternal stretching of whose venerable arms not +unfrequently led to the employment of the shade below for carrying on +the operations of the schoolhouse. There, squat on their haunches, the +sturdy boys--germs of the finest peasantry in the world--surrounded +their teacher in a group quite as pleasing as picturesque. The sway of +the old man was paternal. His rod was rather a figurative than a real +existence; and when driven to the use of the birch, the good man, +consulting more tastes than one, employed the switch from the peach or +some other odorous tree or shrub, in order to reconcile the lad, as +well as he could, to the extraordinary application. He was one of those +considerate persons, who disguise pills in gold-leaf, and if compelled, +as a judge, to hang a gentleman, would decree that a rope of silk should +carry out the painful requisitions of the laws. + +Seated beneath his tree, in nearly the same spot and position in which +he had dismissed his pupils, William Calvert pored over the pages of +a volume as huge of size as it was musty of appearance. It was that +pleasant book--quite as much romance as history--the "Knights of +Malta," by our venerable father, Monsieur L'Abbe Vertot. Its dull, dim, +yellow-looking pages--how yellow, dim, and dull-looking in comparison +with more youthful works--had yet a life and soul which it is not easy +to find in many of these latter. Its high wrought and elaborate pictures +of strife, and toil, and bloodshed, grew vividly before the old man's +eyes; and then, to help the illusion, were there not the portraits--mark +me--the veritable portraits, engraved on copper, with all their titles, +badges, and insignia, done to the life, of all those brave, grand, and +famous masters of the order, by whom the deeds were enacted which +he read, and who stared out upon his eyes, at every epoch, in full +confirmation of the veracious narrative? No wonder that the old man +became heedless of external objects. No wonder he forgot the noise of +the retiring urchins, and the toils of the day, as, for the twentieth +time, he glowed in the brave recital of the famous siege--the baffled +fury of the Turk--the unshaken constancy and unremitted valor of the few +but fearless defenders. The blood in his cheek might be seen hastening +to and fro in accordance with the events of which he read. His eye +was glowing--his pulse beating, and he half started from his seat, as, +hearing a slight footstep, he turned to encounter the respectful homage +of his former pupil, still his friend, our young acquaintance, William +Hinkley. + +The old man laid down his book upon the grass, extended his hand to his +visiter, and leaning back against the tree, surrendered himself to a +quiet chuckle in which there was the hesitancy of a little shame. + +"You surprised me, William," he said; "when I read old Vertot, and +such books, I feel myself a boy again. You must have seen my emotion. +I really had got so warm, that I was about to start up and look for +the weapons of war; and had you but come a moment later, you might +have suffered an assault. As it was, I took you for a Turk--Solyman +himself--and was beginning to ask myself whether I should attack you +tooth and nail, having no other weapons, or propose terms of +peace. Considering the severe losses which you--I mean his Turkish +highness--had sustained, I fancied that you would not be disinclined to +an arrangement just at this moment. But this very notion, at the same +time, led me to the conclusion that I might end the struggle for ever by +another blow. A moment later, my boy, and you might have been compelled +to endure it for the Turk." + +The youth smiled sadly as he replied: "I must borrow that book from +you, sir, some of these days. I have often thought to do so, but I am +afraid." + +"Afraid of what, William?" + +"That it will turn my head, sir, and make me dislike more difficult +studies." + +"It is a reasonable fear, my son; but there is no danger of this sort, +if we will only take heed of one rule, and that is, to take such books +as we take sweetmeats--in very small quantities at a time, and never to +interfere with the main repast. I suspect that light reading--or reading +which we usually call light, but which, as it concerns the fate of man +in his most serious relations, his hopes, his affections, his heart, +nay, his very people and nation--is scarcely less important than any +other. I suspect that this sort of reading would be of great service +to the student, by relieving the solemnity of more tedious and exacting +studies, if taken sparingly and at allotted hours. The student usually +finds a recreation of some kind. I would make books of this description +his recreation. Many a thick-headed and sour parent has forced his son +into a beer-shop, into the tastes for tobacco and consequently brandy, +simply from denying him amusements which equally warm the blood and +elevate the imagination. Studies which merely inform the head are very +apt to endanger the heart. This is the reproach usually urged against +the class of persons whom we call thorough lawyers. Their intense +devotion to that narrow sphere of law which leaves out jury-pleading, is +very apt to endanger the existence of feeling and imagination. The mere +analysis of external principles begets a degree of moral indifference to +all things else, which really impairs the intellect by depriving it +of its highest sources of stimulus. Mathematicians suffer in the same +way--become mere machines, and forfeit, in their concern for figures, +all the social and most of the human characteristics. The mind is always +enfeebled by any pursuit so single and absorbing in its aims as to leave +out of exercise any of the moral faculties. That course of study is the +only one to make a truly great man, which compels the mind to do all +things of which it is capable." + +"But how do you reconcile this, sir, with the opinion, so generally +entertained, that no one man can serve two masters? Law, like the muse, +is a jealous mistress. She is said to suffer no lachesse to escape with +impunity." + +"You mistake me. While I counsel one to go out of his profession for +relief and recreation, I still counsel but the one pursuit. Men fail in +their professions, not because they daily assign an hour to amusement, +but because they halt in a perpetual struggle between some two leading +objects. For example, nothing is more frequent in our country than to +combine law and politics. Nothing is more apt to ruin the lawyer." + +"Very true, sir. I now understand you. But I should think the great +difficulty would be, in resorting to such pleasant books as this of +Vertot for relief and recreation, that you could not cast him off when +you please. The intoxication would continue even after the draught has +been swallowed, and would thus interfere with the hours devoted to other +employments." + +"There is reason in that, William, and that, indeed, is the grand +difficulty. But to show that a good scheme has its difficulties is not +an argument for abandoning it." + +"By no means, sir." + +"The same individual whom Vertot might intoxicate, would most probably +be intoxicated by more dangerous stimulants. Everything, however, +depends upon the habits of self-control which a man has acquired in his +boyhood. The habit of self-control is the only habit which makes mental +power truly effective. The man who can not compel himself to do or to +forbear, can never be much of a student. Students, if you observe, are +generally dogged men--inflexible, plodding, persevering--among lawyers, +those men whom you always find at their offices, and seldom see anywhere +else. They own that mental habit which we call self-control, which +supplies the deficiency in numerous instances of real talent. It is a +power, and a mighty power, particularly in this country, where children +are seldom taught it, and consequently grow up to be a sort of moral +vanes that move with every change of wind, and never fix until they do +so with their own rust. He who learns this power in boyhood will be very +sure to master all his companions." + +The darker expression of sadness passed over the countenance of the +ingenuous youth. + +"I am afraid," said he, "that I shall never acquire this habit." + +"Why so? In your very fear I see a hope." + +"Alas! sir, I feel my own instability of character. I feel myself the +victim of a thousand plans and purposes, which change as soon and as +often as they are made. I am afraid, sir, I shall be nothing!" + +"Do not despond, my son," said the old man sympathizingly. "Your fear is +natural to your age and temperament. Most young men at your time of life +feel numerous yearnings--the struggle of various qualities of mind, +each striving in newly-born activity, and striving adversely. Your +unhappiness arises from the refusal of these qualities to act together. +When they learn to co-operate, all will be easy. Your strifes will be +subdued; there will be a calm like that upon the sea when the storms +subside." + +"Ah! but when will that be? A long time yet. It seems to me that the +storm rather increases than subsides." + +"It may seem so to you now, and yet, when the strife is greatest, the +favorable change is at hand. It needs but one thing to make all the +conflicting qualities of one's mind cooperate." + +"What is that one thing, sir?" + +"An object! As yet, you have none." + +"None, sir!" + +"None--or rather many--which is pretty much the same thing as having +none." + +"I am not sure, sir--but it seems to me, sir, that I have an object." + +"Indeed, William! are you sure?" + +"I think so, sir." + +"Well, name it." + +"I have ambition, sir." + +"Ah! that is a passion, not an object. Does your ambition point in one +direction? Unless it does, it is objectless." + +The youth was silent. The old man proceeded:-- + +"I am disposed to be severe with you, my son. There is no surer sign of +feebleness than in the constant beginnings and the never performings +of a mind. Know thyself, is the first lesson to learn. Is it not very +childish to talk of having ambition, without knowing what to do with it? +If we have ambition, it is given to us to work with. You come to me, +and declare this ambition! We confer together. Your ambition seeks for +utterance. You ask, 'What sort of utterance will suit an ambition such +as mine?' To answer this question, we ask, 'What are your qualities?' +Did you think, William, that I disparaged yours when I recommended the +law to you as a profession?" + +"No, sir! oh, no! Perhaps you overrated them. I am afraid so--I think +so." + +"No, William, unfortunately, you do not think about it. If you would +suffer yourself to think, you would speak a different language." + +"I can not think--I am too miserable to think!" exclaimed the youth in a +burst of passion. The old man looked surprised. He gazed with a serious +anxiety into the youth's face, and then addressed him:-- + +"Where have you been, William, for the last three weeks? In all that +time I have not seen you." + +A warm blush suffused the cheeks of the pupil. He did not immediately +answer. + +"Ask ME!" exclaimed a voice from behind them, which they both instantly +recognised as that of Ned Hinkley, the cousin of William. He had +approached them, in the earnestness of their interview, without having +disturbed them. The bold youth was habited in a rough woodman's dress. +He wore a round jacket of homespun, and in his hand he carried a +couple of fishing-rods, which, with certain other implements, betrayed +sufficiently the object of his present pursuit. + +"Ask me!" said he. "I can tell you what he's been about better than +anybody else." + +"Well, Ned," said the old man, "what has it been? I am afraid it is your +fiddle that keeps him from his Blackstone." + +"My fiddle, indeed! If he would listen to my fiddle when she speaks +out, he'd be wiser and better for it. Look at him, Mr. Calvert, and say +whether it's book or fiddle that's likely to make him as lean as a March +pickerel in the short space of three months. Only look at him, I say." + +"Truly, William, I had not observed it before, but, as Ned says, you do +look thin, and you tell me you are unhappy. Hard study might make you +thin, but can not make you unhappy. What is it?" + +The more volatile and freespoken cousin answered for him. + +"He's been shot, gran'pa, since you saw him last." + +"Shot?" + +"Yes, shot!--He THINKS mortally. I think not. A flesh wound to my +thinking, that a few months more will cure." + +"You have some joke at bottom, Edward," said the old man gravely. + +"Joke, sir! It's a tough joke that cudgels a plump lad into a lean one +in a single season." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean to use your own language, gran'pa. Among the lessons I got from +you when you undertook to fill our heads with wisdom by applications of +smartness to a very different place--among the books we sometimes read +from was one of Master Ovid." + +"Ha! ha! I see what you're after. I understand the shooting. So you +think that the blind boy has hit William, eh?" + +"A flesh wound as I tell you; but he thinks the bolt is in his heart. +I'm sure it can and will be plucked out, and no death will follow." + +"Well! who's the maiden from whose eyes the arrow was barbed?" + +"Margaret Cooper." + +"Ah! indeed!" said the old man gravely. + +"Do not heed him," exclaimed William Hinkley; but the blush upon his +cheeks, still increasing, spoke a different language. + +"I would rather not heed him, William. The passions of persons so young +as yourself are seldom of a permanent character. The attractions which +win the boy seldom compensate the man. There is time enough for this, +ten years hence, and love then will be far more rational." + +"Ah, lud!--wait ten years at twenty. I can believe a great deal in the +doctrine of young men's folly, but I can't go that. I'm in love myself." + +"You!" + +"Yes! I!--I'm hit too--and if you don't like it, why did you teach us +Ovid and the rest? As for rational love, that's a new sort of thing that +we never heard about before. Love was never expected to be rational. +He's known the contrary. I've heard so ever since I was knee-high to +the great picture of your Cupid that you showed us in your famous Dutch +edition of Apuleius. The young unmarried men feel that it's irrational; +the old married people tell us so in a grunt that proves the truth of +what they say. But that don't alter the case. It's a sort of natural +madness that makes one attack in every person's lifetime. I don't +believe in repeated attacks. Some are bit worse than others; and some +think themselves bit, and are mistaken. That's the case with William, +and it's that that keeps him from your law-books and my fiddle. That +makes him thin. He has a notion of Margaret Cooper, and she has none +of him; and love that's all of one side is neither real nor rational. I +don't believe it." + +William Hinkley muttered something angrily in the ears of the speaker. + +"Well, well!" said the impetuous cousin, "I don't want to make you +vexed, and still less do I come here to talk such politics with you. +What do you say to tickling a trout this afternoon? That's what I come +for." + +"It's too cool," said the old man. + +"Not a bit. There's a wind from the south, and a cast of cloud +is constantly growing between us and the sun. I think we shall do +something--something better than talking about love, and law, where +nobody's agreed. You, gran'pa, won't take the love; Bill Hinkley can't +stomach the law, and the trout alone can bring about a reconciliation. +Come, gran'pa, I'm resolved on getting your supper to-night, and you +must go and see me do it." + +"On one condition only, Ned." + +"What's that, gran'pa?" + +"That you both sup with me." + +"Done for myself. What say you, Bill?" + +The youth gave a sad assent, and the rattling youth proceeded:-- + +"The best cure of grief is eating. Love is a sort of pleasant grief. +Many a case of affliction have I seen mended by a beefsteak. Fish is +better. Get a lover to eat, rouse up his appetites, and, to the +same extent, you lessen his affections. Hot suppers keep down the +sensibilities; and, gran'pa, after ours, to-night, you shall have the +fiddle. If I don't make her speak to you to-night, my name's Brag, and +you need never again believe me." + +And the good-humored youth, gathering up his canes, led the way to the +hills, slowly followed by his two less elastic companions. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE HISTORY OF A FAILURE. + + + + + +The route, which conducted them--over a range of gently-ascending hills, +through groves tolerably thick, an uncleared woodland tract comprising +every variety of pleasant foliage, at length brought them to a lonely +tarn or lake, about a mile in circumference, nestled and crouching in +the hollow of the hills, which, in some places sloped gently down to +its margin, at others hung abruptly over its deep and pensive waters. +A thick fringe of shrubs, water-grasses, and wild flowers, girdled its +edges, and gave a dark and mysterious expression to its face. There were +many beaten tracks, narrow paths for individual wayfarers on foot, which +conducted down to favorite fishing-spots. These were found chiefly on +those sides of the lake where the rocks were precipitous. Perched on a +jutting eminence, and half shrouded in the bushes which clothed it, +the silent fisherman took his place, while his fly was made to kiss the +water in capricious evolutions, such as the experienced angler knows how +to employ to beguile the wary victim from close cove, or gloomy hollow, +or from beneath those decaying trunks of overthrown trees which have +given his brood a shelter from immemorial time. + +To one of these selected spots, Ned Hinkley proceeded, leaving his +companions above, where, in shade themselves, and lying at ease upon the +smooth turf, they could watch his successes, and at the same time enjoy +the coup d'oeil, which was singularly beautiful, afforded by the whole +surrounding expanse. The tarn, like the dark mysterious dwelling of an +Undine, was spread out before them with the smoothness of glass, though +untransparent, and shining beneath their eyes like a vast basin of +the richest jet. A thousand pretty changes along the upland slopes, or +abrupt hills which hemmed it in, gave it a singular aspect of variety +which is seldom afforded by any scene very remarkable for its stillness +and seclusion. Opposite to the rock on which Ned Hinkley was already +crouching, the hill-slope to the lake was singularly unbroken, and so +gradual was the ascent from the margin, that one was scarcely conscious +of his upward movement, until looking behind him, he saw how far below +lay the waters which he had lately left. + +The pathway, which had been often trodden, was very distinctly marked +to the eyes of our two friends on the opposite elevation, and they could +also perceive where the same footpath extended on either hand a few +yards from the lake, so as to enable the wanderer to prolong his +rambles, on either side, until reaching the foot of the abrupt masses +of rock which distinguished the opposite margin of the basin. To ascend +these, on that side, was a work of toil, which none but the lover of the +picturesque is often found willing to encounter. Above, even to the +eyes of our friends, though they occupied an eminence, the skies seemed +circumscribed to the circumference of the lake and the hills by which it +was surrounded; and the appearance of the whole region, therefore, was +that of a complete amphitheatre, the lake being the floor, the hills +the mighty pillars, and the roof, the blue, bright, fretted canopy of +heaven. + +"I have missed you, my son, for some time past, and the beauty of the +picture reminds me of what your seeming neglect has made me lose. When +I was a young man I would have preferred to visit such a spot as this +alone. But the sense of desolation presses heavily upon an old man under +any circumstances; and he seeks for the company of the young, as if to +freshen, with sympathy and memory, the cheerlessness and decay which +attends all his own thoughts and fancies. To come alone into the woods, +even though the scene I look on be as fair as this, makes me moody and +awakens gloomy imaginations; and since you have been so long absent, I +have taken to my books again, and given up the woods. Ah! books, alone, +never desert us; never prove unfaithful; never chide us; never mock us, +as even these woods do, with the memory of baffled hopes, and dreams of +youth, gone, never to return again. + +"I trust, my dear sir, you do not think me ungrateful. I have not +wilfully neglected you. More than once I set out to visit you; but my +heart was so full--I was so very unhappy--that I had not the spirit for +it. I felt that I should not be any company for you, and feared that I +would only affect you with some of my own dullness." + +"Nay, that should be no fear with you, my dear boy, for you should know +that the very sorrows of youth, as they awaken the sympathies of age, +provide it with the means of excitement. It is the misfortune of age +that its interest is slow to kindle. Whatever excites the pulse, if not +violently, is beneficial to the heart of the old man. But these sorrows +of yours, my son--do you not call them by too strong a name? I suspect +they are nothing more than the discontents, the vague yearnings of +the young and ardent nature, such as prompt enterprise and lead to +nobleness. If you had them not, you would think of little else than how +to squat with your cousin there, seeking to entrap your dinner; nay, not +so much--you would think only of the modes of cooking and the delight of +eating the fish, and shrink from the toil of taking it. Do not deceive +yourself. This sorrow which distresses you is possibly a beneficial +sorrow. It is the hope which is in you to be something--to DO +something--for this DOING is after all, and before all, the great object +of living. The hope of the heart is always a discontent--most generally +a wholesome discontent--sometimes a noble discontent leading to +nobleness. It is to be satisfied rather than nursed. You must do what it +requires." + +"I know not what it requires." + +"Your DOING then must be confined at present to finding out what that +is." + +"Alas! sir, it seems to me as if I could no more THINK than I can DO" + +"Very likely;--that is the case at present; and there are several +reasons for this feebleness. The energies which have not yet been +tasked, do not know well how to begin. You have been a favored boy. Your +wants have been well provided for. Your parents have loved you only too +much." + +"Too much! Why, even now, I am met with cold looks and reproachful +words, on account of this stranger, of whom nobody knows anything." + +"Even so: suppose that to be the case, my son; still it does not alter +the truth of what I say. You can not imagine that your parents prefer +this stranger to yourself, unless you imagine them to have undergone +a very sudden change of character. They have always treated you +tenderly--too tenderly." + +"Too tenderly, sir?" + +"Yes, William, too tenderly. Their tenderness has enfeebled you, and +that is the reason you know not in what way to begin to dissipate your +doubts, and apply your energies. If they reproach you, that is because +they have some interest in you, and a right in you, which constitutes +their interest. If they treat the stranger civilly, it is because he is +a stranger." + +"Ay, sir, but what if they give this stranger authority to question and +to counsel me? Is not this a cruel indignity?" + +"Softly, William, softly! There is something at the bottom of this which +I do not see, and which perhaps you do not see. If your parents employ a +stranger to counsel you, it proves that something in your conduct leads +them to think that you need counsel." + +"That may be, sir; but why not give it themselves? why employ a person +of whom nobody knows anything?" + +"I infer from your tone, my son, rather than your words, that you have +some dislike to this stranger. + +"No, sir--" was the beginning of the young man's reply, but he stopped +short with a guilty consciousness. A warm blush overspread his cheek, +and he remained silent. The old man, without seeming to perceive the +momentary interruption, or the confusion which followed it, proceeded in +his commentary. + +"There should be nothing, surely, to anger you in good counsel, spoken +even by a stranger, my son; and even where the counsel be not good, if +the motive be so, it requires our gratitude though it may not receive +our adoption." + +"I don't know, sir, but it seems to me very strange, and is very +humiliating, that I should be required to submit to the instructions of +one of whom we know nothing, and who is scarcely older than myself." + +"It may be mortifying to your self-esteem, my son, but self-esteem, +when too active, is compelled constantly to suffer this sort of +mortification. It may be that one man shall not be older in actual years +than another, yet be able to teach that other. Merely living, days and +weeks and months, constitutes no right to wisdom: it is the crowding +events and experience--the indefatigable industry--the living actively +and well--that supply us with the materials for knowing and teaching. In +comparison with millions of your own age, who have lived among men, and +shared in their strifes and troubles, you would find yourself as feeble +a child as ever yet needed the helping hand of counsel and guardianship; +and this brings me back to what I said before. Your parents have treated +you too tenderly. They have done everything for you. You have done +nothing for yourself. They provide for your wants, hearken to your +complaints, nurture you in sickness, with a diseasing fondness, and so +render you incapable. Hence it is, that, in the toils of manhood, you do +not know how to begin. You lack courage and perseverance." + +"Courage and perseverance!" was the surprised exclamation of the youth. + +"Precisely, and lest I should offend you, my son, I must acknowledge to +you beforehand, that this very deficiency was my own." + +"Yours, sir? I can not think it. What! lack courage?" + +"Exactly so!" + +"Why, sir--did I not see you myself, when everybody else looked on +with trembling and with terror, throw yourself in the way of Drummond's +horses and save the poor boy from being dashed to pieces? There was +surely no lack of courage there!" + +"No! in that sense, my son, I labor under no deficiency. But this sort +of courage is of the meanest kind. It is the courage of impulse, not +of steadfastness. Hear me, William. You have more than once allowed the +expression of a wonder to escape you, why a man, having such a passion +for books and study, and with the appearance of mental resources, such +as I am supposed to possess, should be content, retiring from the great +city, to set up his habitation in this remote and obscure region. My +chosen profession was the law; I was no unfaithful student. True, I had +no parents to lament my wanderings and failures; but I did not wander. I +studied closely, with a degree of diligence which seemed to surprise all +my companions. I was ambitious--intensely ambitious. My head ran upon +the strifes of the forum, its exciting contests of mind and soul--its +troubles, its triumphs. This was my leading thought--it was my only +passion. The boy-frenzies for women, which are prompted less by +sentiment or judgment, than by feverish blood, troubled me little. +Law was my mistress--took up all my time--absorbed all my devotion. I +believe that I was a good lawyer--no pettifogger--the merely drilled +creature who toils for his license, and toils for ever after solely for +his petty gains, in the miserably petty arts of making gains for others, +and eluding the snares set for his own feet by kindred spirits. As +far as the teaching of this country could afford me the means and +opportunity, I endeavored to procure a knowledge of universal law--its +sources--its true objects--its just principles--its legitimate dicta. +Mere authorities never satisfied me, unless, passing behind the black +gowns, I could follow up the reasoning to the first fountains--the small +original truths, the nicely discriminated requisitions of immutable +justice--the clearly-defined and inevitable wants of a superior and +prosperous society. Everything that could illustrate law as well as +fortify it; every collateral aid, in the shape of history or moral +truth, I gathered together, even as the dragoon whose chief agent is his +sabre, yet takes care to provide himself with pistols, that may finish +what the other weapon has begun. Nor did I content myself with the mere +acquisition of the necessary knowledge. Knowing how much depends +upon voice, manner and fluency, in obtaining success before a jury, I +addressed myself to these particulars with equal industry. My voice, +even now, has a compass which your unexercised lungs, though quite as +good originally as mine, would fail entirely to contend with. I do not +deceive myself, as I certainly do not seek to deceive you, when I say, +that I acquired the happiest mastery over my person." + +"Ah! sir--we see that now--that must have been the case!" said the youth +interrupting him. The other continued, sadly smiling as he heard the +eulogy which the youth meant to speak, the utterance of which was +obviously from the heart. + +"My voice was taught by various exercises to be slow or rapid, soft +or strong, harsh or musical, by the most sudden, yet unnoticeable +transitions. I practised all the arts, which are recommended by +elocutionists for this purpose, I rumbled my eloquence standing on +the seashore, up to my middle in the breakers. I ran, roaring up steep +hills--I stretched myself at length by the side of meandering brooks, +or in slumberous forests of pine, and sought, by the merest whispers, to +express myself with distinctness and melody. But there was something yet +more requisite than these, and this was language. My labors to obtain +all the arts of utterance did not seem less successful. I could dilate +with singular fluency, with classical propriety, and great natural +vigor of expression. I studied directness of expression by a frequent +intercourse with men of business, and examined, with the nicest urgency, +the particular characteristics of those of my own profession who were +most remarkable for their plain, forcible speaking. I say nothing of my +studies of such great masters in discourse and philosophy, as Milton, +Shakspere, Homer, Lord Bacon, and the great English divines. As a model +of pure English the Bible was a daily study of two hours; and from this +noble well of vernacular eloquence, I gathered--so I fancied--no small +portion of its quaint expressive vigor, its stern emphasis, its golden +and choice phrases of illustration. Never did a young lawyer go into the +forum more thoroughly clad in proof, or with a better armory as well for +defence as attack." + +"You did not fail, sir?" exclaimed the youth with a painful expression +of eager anxiety upon his countenance. + +"I did fail--fail altogether! In the first effort to speak, I fainted, +and was carried lifeless from the court-room." + +The old man covered his face with his hands, for a few moments, to +conceal the expression of pain and mortification which memory continued +to renew in utter despite of time. The young man's hand rested +affectionately on his shoulder. A few moments sufficed to enable the +former to renew his narrative. + +"I was stunned but not crushed by this event. I knew my own resources. +I recollected a similar anecdote of Sheridan; of his first attempt and +wretched failure. I, too, felt that 'I had it in me,' and though I did +not express, I made the same resolution, that 'I would bring it out.' +But Sheridan and myself failed from different causes, though I did not +understand this at that time. He had a degree of hardihood which I had +not; and he utterly lacked my sensibilities. The very intenseness of my +ambition; the extent of my expectation; the elevated estimate which I +had made of my own profession; of its exactions; and, again, of what was +expected from me; were all so many obstacles to my success. I did not +so esteem them, then; and after renewing my studies in private, my +exercises of expression and manner, and going through a harder course of +drilling, I repeated the attempt to suffer a repetition of the failure. +I did not again faint, but I was speechless. I not only lost the power +of utterance, but I lost the corresponding faculty of sight. My eyes +were completely dazed and confounded. The objects of sight around me +were as crowded and confused as the far, dim ranges of figures, tribes +upon tribes, and legions upon legions, which struggle in obscurity and +distance, in any one of the begrimed and blurred pictures of Martin's +Pandemonium. My second failure was a more enfeebling disaster than +the first. The first procured me the sympathy of my audience, the last +exposed me to its ridicule." + +Again the old man paused. By this time, the youth had got one of his +arms about the neck of the speaker, and had taken one of his hands +within his grasp. + +"Yours is a generous nature, William," said Mr. Calvert, "and I have not +said to you, until to-day, how grateful your boyish sympathies have been +to me from the first day when you became my pupil. It is my knowledge of +these sympathies, and a desire to reward them, that prompts me to tell +a story which still brings its pains to memory, and which would be +given to no other ears than your own. I see that you are eager for the +rest--for the wretched sequel." + +"Oh, no! sir--do not tell me any more of it if it brings you pain. I +confess I should like to know all, but--" + +"You shall have it all, my son. My purpose would not be answered unless +I finished the narrative. You will gather from it, very possibly, the +moral which I could not. You will comprehend something better, the +woful distinction between courage of the blood and courage of the brain; +between the mere recklessness of brute impulse, and the steady valor of +the soul--that valor, which, though it trembles, marches forward to the +attack--recovers from its fainting, to retrieve its defeat; and glows +with self-indignation because it has suffered the moment of victory to +pass, without employing itself to secure the boon!-- + +"Shame, and a natural desire to retrieve myself, operated to make +me renew my efforts. I need not go through the processes by which I +endeavored to acquire the necessary degree of hardihood. In vain did +I recall the fact that my competitors were notoriously persons far +inferior to me in knowledge of the topics; far inferior in the capacity +to analyze them; rude and coarse in expression; unfamiliar with the +language--mere delvers and diggers in a science in which I secretly felt +that I should be a master. In vain did I recall to mind the fact that +I knew the community before which I was likely to speak; I knew its +deficiencies; knew the inferiority of its idols, and could and should +have no sort of fear of its criticism. But it was myself that I feared. +I had mistaken the true censor. It was my own standards of judgment that +distressed and made me tremble. It was what I expected of myself--what +I thought should be expected of me--that made my weak soul recoil in +terror from the conviction that I must fail in its endeavor to reach the +point which my ambitious soul strove to attain. The fear, in such cases, +produced the very disaster, from the anticipated dread of which it had +arisen. I again failed--failed egregiously--failed utterly and for +ever! I never again attempted the fearful trial. I gave up the contest, +yielded the field to my inferiors, better-nerved, though inferior, +and, with all my learning, all my eloquence, my voice, my manner; +my resources of study, thought, and utterance, fled from sight--fled +here--to bury myself in the wilderness, and descend to the less +ambitious, but less dangerous vocation of schooling--I trust, to better +uses--the minds of others. I had done nothing with my own." + +"Oh, sir, do not say so. Though you may have failed in one department of +human performance, you have succeeded in others. You have lost none +of the knowledge which you then acquired. You possess all the gifts of +eloquence, of manner, of voice, of education, of thought." + +"But of what use, my son? Remember, we do not toil for these possessions +to lock them up--to content ourselves, as the miserable miser, with +the consciousness that we possess a treasure known to ourselves +only--useless to all others as to ourselves! Learning, like love, like +money, derives its true value from its circulation." + +"And you circulate yours, my dear sir. What do we not owe you in +Charlemont? What do I not owe you, over all?" + +"Love, my son--love only. Pay me that. Do not desert me in my old age. +Do not leave me utterly alone!" + +"I will not, sir--I never thought to do so." + +"But," said the old man, "to resume. Why did I fail is still the +question. Because I had not been taught those lessons of steady +endurance in my youth which would have strengthened me against failure, +and enable me finally to triumph. There is a rich significance in what +we hear of the Spartan boy, who never betrayed his uneasiness or agony +though the fox was tearing out his bowels. There is a sort of moral +roughening which boys should be made to endure from the beginning, if +the hope is ever entertained, to mature their minds to intellectual +manhood. Our American Indians prescribe the same laws, and in their +practice, very much resemble the ancient Spartans. To bear fatigue, and +starvation, and injury--exposure, wet, privation, blows--but never to +complain. Nothing betrays so decidedly the lack of moral courage as the +voice of complaint. It is properly the language of woman. It must not be +your language. Do you understand me, William?" + +"In part, sir, but I do not see how I could have helped being what I +am." + +"Perhaps not, because few have control of their own education. Your +parents have been too tender of you. They have not lessoned you in +that proper hardihood which leads to performance. That task is before +yourself, and you have shrunk from the first lessons." + +"How, sir?" + +"Instead of clinging to your Blackstone, you have allowed yourself to be +seduced from its pages, by such attractions as usually delude boys. +The eye and lip of a pretty woman--a bright eye and a rosy cheek, have +diverted you from your duties." + +"But do our duties deny us the indulgence of proper sensibilities?" + +"Certainly not--PROPER sensibilities, on the contrary, prescribe our +duties." + +"But love, sir--is not love a proper sensibility?" + +"In its place, it is. But you are a boy only. Do you suppose that it +was ever intended that you should entertain this passion before you had +learned the art of providing your own food? Not so; and the proof of +this is to be found in the fact that the loves of boyhood are never of +a permanent character. No such passion can promote happiness if it is +indulged before the character of the parties is formed. I now tell you +that in five years from this time you will probably forget Miss Cooper." + +"Never! never!" + +"Well, well--I go farther in my prophecy. Allow me to suppose you +successful in your suit, which I fancy can never be the case--" + +"Why, sir, why?" + +"Because she is not the girl for you; or rather, she does not think you +the man for her!" + +"But why do you think so, sir?" + +"Because I know you both. There are circumstances of discrepancy between +you which will prevent it, and even were you to be successful in your +suit, which I am very sure will never be the case, you would be the most +miserably-matched couple under the sun." + +"Oh, sir, do not say so--do not. I can not think so, sir." + +"You WILL not think so, I am certain. I am equally certain from what I +know of you both, that you are secure from any such danger. It is not my +object to pursue this reference, but let me ask you, William, looking at +things in the most favorable light, has Margaret Cooper ever given you +any encouragement?" + +"I can not say that she has, sir, but--" + +"Nay, has she not positively discouraged you? Does she not avoid +you--treat you coldly when you meet--say little, and that little of a +kind to denote--I will not say dislike--but pride, rather than love?" + +The young man said nothing. The old one proceeded:-- + +"You are silent, and I am answered. I have long watched your intercourse +with this damsel, and loving you as my own son, I have watched it with +pain. She is not for you, William. She loves you not. I am sure of it. +I can not mistake the signs. She seeks other qualities than such as you +possess. She seeks meretricious qualities, and yours are substantial. +She seeks the pomps of mind, rather than its subdued performances. She +sees not, and can not see, your worth; and whenever you propose to her, +your suit will be rejected. You have not done so yet?" + +"No, sir--but I had hoped--" + +"I am no enemy, believe me, William, when I implore you to discard your +hope in that quarter. It will do you no hurt. Your heart will suffer +no detriment, but be as whole and vigorous a few years hence--perhaps +months--as if it had never suffered any disappointment." + +"I wish I could think so, sir." + +"And you would not wish that you could think so, if you were not already +persuaded that your first wish is hopeless." + +"But I am not hopeless, sir." + +"Your cause is. But, promise me that you will not press your suit at +present." + +The young man was silent. + +"You hesitate." + +"I dare not promise." + +"Ah, you are a foolish boy. Do you not see the rock on which you are +about to split. You have never learned how to submit. This lesson of +submission was that which made the Spartan boy famous. Here, you persist +in your purpose, though your own secret convictions, as well as your +friend's counsel, tell you that you strive against hope. You could +not patiently submit to the counsel of this stranger, though he came +directly from your parents, armed with authority to examine and to +counsel." + +"Submit to him! I would sooner perish!" exclaimed the indignant youth. + +"You will perish unless you learn this one lesson. But where now is your +ambition, and what does it aim at?" + +The youth was silent. + +"The idea of an ambitious youth, at twenty, giving up book and candle, +leaving his studies, and abandoning himself to despair, because his +sweetheart won't be his sweetheart any longer, gives us a very queer +idea of the sort of ambition which works in his breast." + +"Don't, sir, don't, I pray you, speak any more in this manner." + +"Nay, but, William, ask yourself. Is it not a queer idea?" + +"Spare me, sir, if you love me." + +"I do love you, and to show you that I do, I now recommend to you to +propose to Margaret Cooper." + +"What, sir, you do not think it utterly hopeless then?" + +"Yes, I do." + +"And you would have me expose myself to rejection?" + +"Exactly so!" + +"Really, sir, I do not understand you." + +"Well, I will explain. Nothing short of rejection will possibly cure you +of this malady; and it is of the last importance to your future career, +that you should be freed as soon as possible from this sickly condition +of thought and feeling--a condition in which your mind will do nothing, +and in which your best days will be wasted. Blackstone can only hope to +be taken up when you have done with her." + +"Stay, sir--that is she below." + +"Who?" + +"Margaret----" + +"Who is with her?" + +"The stranger--this man, Stevens." + +"Ha! your counsellor, that would be? Ah! William, you did not tell me +all." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE ENTHUSIAST. + + + + + +The cheeks of the youth glowed. He felt how much he had suppressed in +his conference with his venerable counsellor. Mr. Calvert did not press +the topic, and the two remained silent, looking down, from the shaded +spot where they lay, upon the progress of Margaret Cooper and her +present attendant, Stevens. The eminence on which they rested was +sufficiently lofty, as we have seen, to enable them, though themselves +almost concealed from sight, to take in the entire scene, not only below +but around them; and the old man, sharing now in the interest of his +young companion, surveyed the progress of the new-comers with a keen +sense of curiosity which, for a time, kept him silent. The emotions of +William Hinkley were such as to deprive him of all desire for speech; +and each, accordingly, found sufficient employment in brooding over his +own awakened fancies. Even had they spoken in the ordinary tone of their +voices, the sounds could not have reached the persons approaching on the +opposite side. They drew nigh, evidently unconscious that the scene was +occupied by any other than themselves. Ned Hinkley was half-shrouded in +the shrubbery that environed the jutting crag upon which his form +was crouched, and they were not yet sufficiently nigh to the tarn to +perceive his projecting rod, and the gaudy fly which he kept skipping +about upon the surface. The walk which they pursued was an ancient +Indian footpath, which had without doubt conducted the red warriors, +a thousand times before, to a spot of seclusion and refreshment after +their long day's conflict on the "DARK AND BLOODY GROUND." It was narrow +and very winding, and had been made so in order to lessen the fatigue of +an ascent which, though gradual enough, was yet considerable, and +would have produced great weariness, finally, had the pathway been more +direct. + +The circuitousness of this route, which lay clear enough before the +eyes of our two friends upon the eminence--crawling, as it did, up the +woodland slopes with the sinuous course of a serpent--was yet visible to +Ned Hinkley, on his lowlier perch, only at its starting-point, upon +the very margin of the lake. He, accordingly, saw as little of the +approaching persons as they had seen of him. They advanced slowly, and +seemed to be mutually interested in their subject of conversation. The +action of Stevens was animated; The air and attitude of Margaret Cooper +was that of interest and attention. It was with something little short +of agony that William Hinkley beheld them pause upon occasion, and +confront each other as if the topic was of a nature to arrest the feet +and demand the whole fixed attention of the hearer. + +It will be conjectured that Alfred Stevens had pressed his opportunities +with no little industry. Enough has been shown to account for the +readiness of that reception which Margaret Cooper was prepared to give +him. Her intelligence was keen, quick, and penetrating. She discovered +at a glance, not his hypocrisy, but that his religious enthusiasm was +not of a sort to become very tyrannical. The air of mischief which was +expressed upon his face when the venerable John Cross proposed to purge +her library of its obnoxious contents, commended him to her as a sort of +ally; and the sympathy with herself, which such a conjecture promised, +made her forgetful of the disingenuousness of his conduct if her +suspicions were true. But there were some other particulars which, in +her mind, tended to dissipate the distance between them. She recognised +the individual. She remembered the bold, dashing youth, who, a few +months before, had encountered her on the edge of the village, and, +after they had parted, had ridden back to the spot where she still +loitered, for a second look. To that very spot had she conducted him on +their ramble that afternoon. + +"Do you know this place, Mr. Stevens?" she demanded with an arch smile, +sufficiently good-humored to convince the adventurer that, if she had +any suspicions, they were not of a nature to endanger his hopes. + +"Do I not!" he said, with an air of EMPRESSMENT which caused her to look +down. + +"I thought I recollected you," she said, a moment after. + +"Ah! may I hope that I did not then offend you with my impertinence? But +the truth is, I was so struck--pardon me if I say it--with the singular +and striking difference between the group of damsels I had seen and THE +ONE--the surprise was so great--the pleasure so unlooked for--that--" + +The eye of Margaret Cooper brightened, her cheek glowed, and her form +rose somewhat proudly. The arch-hypocrite paused judiciously, and she +spoke:-- + +"Nay, nay, Mr. Stevens, these fine speeches do not pass current. You +would make the same upon occasion to any one of the said group of +damsels, were you to be her escort." + +"But I would scarcely ride back for a second look," he responded, in a +subdued tone of voice, while looking with sad expressiveness into her +eyes. These were cast down upon the instant, and the color upon her +cheeks was heightened. + +"Come," said she, making an effort, "there is nothing here to interest +us." + +"Except memory," he replied; "I shall never forget the spot." + +She hurried forward, and he joined her. She had received the impression +which he intended to convey, without declaring as much--namely, that his +return to Charlemont had been prompted by that one glimpse which he had +then had of her person. Still, that nothing should be left in doubt, he +proceeded to confirm the impression by other suggestions:-- + +"You promise to show me a scene of strange beauty, but your whole +village is beautiful, Miss Cooper. I remember how forcibly it struck me +as I gained the ascent of the opposite hills coming in from the east. +It was late in the day, the sun was almost setting, and his faintest +but loveliest beams fell upon the cottages in the valley, and lay with a +strange, quiet beauty among the grass-plats, and the flower-ranges, and +upon the neat, white palings." + +"It is beautiful," she said with a sigh, "but its beauty does not +content me. It is too much beauty; it is too soft; for, though it has +its rocks and huge trees, yet it lacks wildness and sublimity. The rocks +are not sufficiently abrupt, the steeps not sufficiently great; there +are no chasms, no waterfalls--only purling brooks and quiet walks." + +"I have felt this already," he replied; "but there is yet a deficiency +which you have not expressed, Miss Cooper." + +"What is that?" she demanded. + +"It is the moral want. You have no life here; and that which would least +content me would be this very repose--the absence of provocation--the +strife--the triumph! These, I take it, are the deficiencies which +you really feel when you speak of the want of crag, and chasm, and +waterfall." + +"You, too, are ambitious, then!" she said quickly; "but how do you +reconcile this feeling with your profession?" + +She looked up, and caught his eye tenderly fixed upon her. + +"Ah!" said he, "Miss Cooper, there are some situations in which we find +it easy to reconcile all discrepancies." + +If the language lacked explicitness, the look did not. He proceeded:-- + +"If I mistake not, Miss Cooper, you will be the last one to blame me +for not having stifled my ambition, even at the calls of duty and +profession." + +"Blame you, sir? Far from it. I should think you very unfortunate +indeed, if you could succeed in stifling ambition at any calls, nor do I +exactly see how duty should require it." + +"If I pursue the profession of the divine?" he answered hesitatingly. + +"Yes--perhaps--but that is not certain?" There was some timidity in the +utterance of this inquiry. He evaded it. + +"I know not yet what I shall be," he replied with an air of +self-reproach; "I fear I have too much of this fiery ardor which we call +ambition to settle down into the passive character of the preacher." + +"Oh, do not, do not!" she exclaimed impetuously; then, as if conscious +of the impropriety, she stopped short in the sentence, while increasing +her forward pace. + +"What!" said he, "you think that would effectually stifle it?" + +"Would it not--does it not in most men?" + +"Perhaps; but this depends upon the individual. Churchmen have a great +power--the greatest in any country." + +"Over babes and sucklings!" she said scornfully. + +"And, through these; over the hearts of men and women." + +"But these, too, are babes and sucklings--people to be scared by +shadows--the victims of their own miserable fears and superstitions!" + +"Nevertheless, these confer power. Where there is power, there is room +for ambition. You recollect that churchmen have put their feet upon the +necks of princes." + +"Yes, but that was when there was one church only in Christendom. It was +a monopoly, and consequently a tyranny. Now there are a thousand, always +in conflict, and serving very happily to keep each other from mischief. +They no longer put their feet on princes' necks, though I believe that +the princes are no better off for this forbearance--there are others who +do. But only fancy that this time was again, and think of the comical +figure our worthy brother John Cross would make, mounting from such a +noble horse-block!" + +The idea was sufficiently pleasant to make Stevens laugh. + +"I am afraid I shall have greater trouble in converting you, Miss +Cooper, than any other of the flock in Charlemont. I doubt that your +heart is stubborn--that you are an insensible!" + +"I insensible!" she exclaimed, and with such a look! The expression of +sarcasm had passed, as with the rapidity of a lightning-flash, from her +beautiful lips; and a silent tear rose, tremulous and large, with the +same instantaneous emotion, beneath her long, dark eyelashes. She +said nothing more, but, with eyes cast down, went forward. Stevens +was startled with the suddenness of these transitions. They proved, +at least, how completely her mind was at the control of her blood. +Hitherto, he had never met with a creature so liberally endowed by +nature, who was, at the same time, so perfectly unsophisticated. +The subject was gratifying as a study alone, even if it conferred no +pleasure, and awakened no hopes. + +"Do not mistake me," he exclaimed, hurrying after, "I had no purpose to +impute to you any other insensibility except to that of the holy truths +of religion." + +She looked up and smiled archly. There was another transition from cloud +to sunlight. + +"What! are you so doubtful of your own ministry?" + +"In your case, I am." + +"Why?" + +"You will force me to betake myself to studies more severe than any I +have yet attempted." + +She was flattered but she uttered a natural disclaimer. + +"No, no! I am presumptuous. I trust you will teach me. Begin--do not +hesitate--I will listen." + +"To move you I must not come in the garments of methodism. That faith +will never be yours." + +"What faith shall it be?" + +"That of Catholicism. I must come armed with authority. I must carry +the sword and keys of St. Peter. I must be sustained by all the pomps of +that church of pomps and triumphs. My divine mission must speak through +signs and symbols, through stately stole, pontifical ornaments, the +tiara of religious state on the day of its most solemn ceremonial; and +with these I must bring the word of power, born equally of intellect and +soul, and my utterance must be in the language of divinest poesy!" + +"Ah! you mistake! That last will be enough. Speak to me in poesy--let +me hear that--and you will subdue me, I believe, to any faith that you +teach. For I can not but believe the faith that is endowed with the +faculty of poetic utterance." + +"In truth it is a divine utterance--perhaps the only divine utterance. +Would I had it for your sake." + +"Oh! you must have it. I fancy I see it in some things that you have +said. You read poetry, I am sure--I am sure you love it." + +"I do! I know not anything that I love half so well." + +"Then you write it?" she asked eagerly. + +"No! the gift has been denied me." + +She looked at him with eyes of regret. + +"How unfortunate," she said. + +"Doubly so, as the deficiency seems to disappoint you." + +She did not seem to heed the flattery of this remark, nor did she +appear to note the expression of face with which it was accompanied. Her +feelings took the ascendency. She spoke out her uncommissioned thoughts +and fancies musingly, as if without the knowledge of her will. + +"I fancy that I could kneel down and worship the poet, and feel no +shame, no humility. It is the only voice that enchants me--that leads +me out from myself; that carries me where it pleases and finds for me +companions in the solitude; songs in the storm; affections in the barren +desert! Even here, it brings me friends and fellowships. How voiceless +would be all these woods to me had it no voice speaking to, and in, +my soul. Hoping nothing, and performing nothing here, it is my only +consolation. It reconciles me to this wretched spot. It makes endurance +tolerable. If it were not for this companionship--if I heard not this +voice in my sorrows, soothing my desolation, I could freely die!--die +here, beside this rock, without making a struggle to go forward, even to +reach the stream that flows quietly beyond!" + +She had stopped in her progress while this stream of enthusiasm poured +from her lips. Her action was suited to her utterance. Unaccustomed +to restraint--nay, accustomed only to pour herself forth to woods, and +trees, and waters, she was scarcely conscious of the presence of any +other companion, yet she looked even while she spoke, in the eyes of +Stevens. He gazed on her with glances of unconcealed admiration. The +unsophisticated nature which led her to express that enthusiasm which +a state of conventional existence prompts us, through fear of ridicule, +industriously to conceal, struck him with the sense of a new pleasure. +The novelty alone had its charm; but there were other sources of +delight. The natural grace and dignity of the enthusiastic girl, +adapting to such words the appropriate action, gave to her beauty, +which was now in its first bloom, all the glow which is derived from +intellectual inspiration. Her whole person spoke. All was vital, +spiritual, expressive, animated; and when the last word lingered on her +lips, Stevens could scarcely repress the impulse which prompted him to +clasp her in his embrace. + +"Margaret!" he exclaimed--"Miss Cooper!--you are yourself a poet!" + +"No, no!" she murmured, rather than spoke;--"would I were!--a dreamer +only--a self-deluded dreamer." + +"You can not deceive me!" he continued, "I see it in your eyes, your +action; I hear it in your words. I can not be deceived. You are a +poet--you will, and must be one!" + +"And if I were!" she said mournfully, "of what avail would it be here? +What heart in this wilderness would be touched by song of mine? Whose +ear could I soothe in this cold and sterile hamlet? Where would be the +temple--who the worshippers--even were the priestess all that her vanity +would believe, or her prayers and toils might make her? No, no! I am +no poet; and if I were, better that the flame should go out--vanish +altogether in the smoke of its own delusions--than burn with a feeble +light, unseen, untrimmed, unhonored--perhaps, beheld with the scornful +eye of vulgar and unappreciating ignorance!" + +"Such is not your destiny, Margaret Cooper," replied Stevens, using +the freedom of address, perhaps unconsciously, which the familiarity of +country life is sometimes found to tolerate. "Such is not your destiny, +Margaret. The flame will not go out--it will be loved and worshipped!" + +"Ah! never! what is here to justify such a hope--such a dream?" + +"Nothing HERE; but it was not of Charlemont I spoke. The destiny which +has endowed you with genius will not leave it to be extinguished here. +There will come a worshipper, Margaret. There will come one, equally +capable to honor the priestess and to conduct her to befitting altars. +This is not your home, though it may have been your place of trial +and novitiate. Here, without the restraint of cold, oppressive, social +forms, your genius has ripened--your enthusiasm has been kindled into +proper glow--your heart, and mind, and imagination, have kept equal pace +to an equal maturity! Perhaps this was fortunate. Had you grown up in +more polished and worldly circles, you would have been compelled to +subdue the feelings and fancies which now make your ordinary language +the language of a muse." + +"Oh! speak not so, I implore you. I am afraid you mock me." + +"No! on my soul, I do not. I think all that I say. More than that, I +feel it, Margaret. Trust to me--confide in me--make me your friend! +Believe me, I am not altogether what I seem." + +An arch smile once more possessed her eyes. + +"Ah! I could guess that! But sit you here. Here is a flower--a +beautiful, small flower, with a dark blue eye. See it--how humbly it +hides amid the grass. It is the last flower if the season. I know not +its name. I am no botanist; but it is beautiful without a name, and it +is the last flower of the season. Sit down on this rock, and I will sing +you Moore's beautiful song, ''Tis the last of its kindred.'" + +"Nay, sing me something of your own, Margaret." + +"No, no! Don't speak of me, and mine, in the same breath with Moore. +You will make me repent of having seen you. Sit down and be content with +Moore, or go without your song altogether." + +He obeyed her, and the romantic and enthusiastic girl, seating herself +upon a fragment of rock beside the path, sang the delicate and sweet +verses of the Irish poet, with a natural felicity of execution, which +amply compensated for the absence of those Italian arts, which so +frequently elevate the music at the expense of the sentiment. Stevens +looked and listened, and half forgot himself in the breathlessness of +his attention--his eye fastened with a gaze of absolute devotion on her +features, until, having finished her song, she detected the expression +of his face, and started, with blushing cheeks, to her feet. + +"Oh! sweet!" he murmured as he offered to take her hand, but she darted +forward, and following her, he found himself a few moments after, +standing by her side, and looking down upon one of the loveliest lakes +that ever slept in the embrace of jealous hills. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +A CATASTROPHE. + + + + + +"You disparage these scenes," said Stevens, after several moments had +been given to the survey of that before him, "and yet you have drawn +your inspiration from them--the fresh food which stimulates poetry and +strengthens enthusiasm. Here you learned to be contemplative; and here, +in solitude, was your genius nursed. Do not be ungrateful, Margaret--you +owe to these very scenes all that you are, and all that you may become." + +"Stay! before I answer. Do you see yon bird?" + +"Where?" + +"In the west--there!" she pointed with her fingers, catching his +wrist unconsciously, at the same time, with the other hand, as if more +certainly to direct his gaze. + +"I see it--what bird is it?" + +"An eagle! See how it soars and swings; effortless, as if supported by +some external power!" + +"Indeed--it seems small for an eagle." + +"It is one nevertheless! There are thousands of them that roost among +the hills in that quarter. I know the place thoroughly. The heights are +the greatest that we have in the surrounding country. The distance from +this spot is about five miles. He, no doubt, has some fish, or bird now +within his talons, with which to feed his young. He will feed them, and +they will grow strong, and will finally use their own wings. Shall he +continue to feed them after that? Must they never seek their own food?" + +"Surely they must." + +"If these solitudes have nursed me, must they continue to nurse me +always? Must I never use the wings to which they have given vigor? Must +I never employ the sight to which they have imparted vigilance? Must I +never go forth, and strive and soar, and make air, and earth, and sea, +tributary to my wing and eye? Alas! I am a woman!--and her name is +weakness! You tell me of what I am, and of what I may become. But what +am I? I mock myself too often with this question to believe all your +fine speeches. And what may I become? Alas! who can tell me that? I know +my strength, but I also know my weakness. I feel the burning thoughts +of my brain; I feel the yearning impulses in my heart; but they bring +nothing--they promise nothing--I feel the pang of constant denial. I +feel that I can be nothing!" + +"Say not so, Margaret--think not so, I beseech you. With your genius, +your enthusiasm--your powers of expression--there is nothing, becoming +in your sex, and worthy of it, which you may not be." + +"You can not deceive me! It might be so, if this were Italy; there, +where the very peasant burns with passion, and breathes his feeblest +and meanest thoughts and desires in song. But here, they already call +me mad! They look on me as one doomed to Bedlam. They avoid me with +sentiments and looks of distrust, if not of fear; and when I am looking +into the cloud, striving to pierce, with dilating eye its wild yellow +flashing centres, they draw their flaxen-headed infants to their +breasts, and mutter their thanks to God, that he has not, in a fit of +wrath, made them to resemble me! If, forgetful of earth, and trees, +and the human stocks around me, I pour forth the language of the great +song-masters, they grin at my insanity--they hold me incapable of +reason, and declare their ideas of what that is, by asking who +knows most of the dairy, the cabbage-patch, the spinning-wheel, the +darning-needle--who can best wash Polly's or Patty's face and comb its +head--can chop up sausage-meat the finest--make the lightest paste, and +more economically dispense the sugar in serving up the tea! and these +are what is expected of woman! These duties of the meanest slave! From +her mind nothing is expected. Her enthusiasm terrifies, her energy +offends, and if her taste is ever challenged, it is to the figures upon +a quilt or in a flower-garden, where the passion seems to be to make +flowers grow in stars, and hearts, and crescents. What has woman to +expect where such are the laws; where such are the expectations from +her? What am I to hope? I, who seem to be set apart--to feel nothing +like the rest--to live in a different world--to dream of foreign +things--to burn with a hope which to them is frenzy, and speak a +language which they neither understand nor like! What can I be, in such +a world? Nothing, nothing! I do not deceive myself. I can never hope to +be anything." + +Her enthusiasm hurried her forward. In spite of himself, Stevens was +impressed. He ceased to think of his evil purposes in the superior +thoughts which her wild, unregulated energy inspired. He scarcely +wondered, indeed--if it were true--that her neighbors fancied +her insane. The indignation of a powerful mind denied--denied +justice--baffled in its aims--conscious of the importance of all +its struggles against binding and blinding circumstances--is akin to +insanity!--is apt to express itself in the defiant tones of a fierce and +feverish frenzy. + +"Margaret," said he, as she paused and waited for him, "you are not +right in everything. You forget that your lonely little village of +Charlemont, is not only not the world, but that it is not even an +American world. America is not Italy, I grant you, nor likely soon to +become so; but if you fancy there are not cities even in our country, +where genius such as yours would be felt and worshipped, you are +mistaken." + +"Do you believe there are such?" she demanded incredulously. + +"I KNOW there are!" + +"No! no! I know better. You can not deceive me. It can not be so. I know +the sort of genius which is popular in those cities. It is the gentleman +and lady genius. Look at their verses for example. I can show you +thousands of such things that come to us here, from all quarters of the +Union--verses written by nice people--people of small tastes and petty +invention, who would not venture upon the utterance of a noble +feeling, or a bold sentiment of originality, for fear of startling the +fashionable nerves with the strong words which such a novelty would +require. Consider, in the first place, how conclusive it is of the +feeblest sort of genius that these people should employ themselves, +from morning to night, in spinning their small strains, scraps of verse, +song, and sonnet, and invariably on such subjects of commonplace, as can +not admit of originality, and do not therefore task reflection. Not +an infant dies or is born, but is made the subject of verse; nay, its +smiles and tears are put on record; its hobby-horse, and its infant +ideas as they begin to bud and breathe aloud. Then comes the eternal +strain about summer blooms and spring flowers; autumn's melancholy and +winter's storms, until one sickens of the intolerable monotony. Such +are the things that your great cities demand. Such things content +them. Speak the fearless and always strange language of originality and +strength, and you confound and terrify them." + +"But, Margaret, these things are held at precisely the same value in the +big cities as they are held by you here in Charlemont. The intelligent +people smile--they do not applaud. If they encourage at all it is by +silence." + +"No! no! that you might say, if, unhappily, public opinion did not +express itself. The same magazines which bring us the verses bring us +the criticism." + +"That is to say, the editor puffs his contributors, and disparages those +who are not. Look at the rival journal and you will find these denounced +and another set praised and beplastered." + +"Ah! and what would be my hope, my safety, in communities which tolerate +these things; in which the number of just and sensible people is so +small that they dare not speak, or can not influence those who have +better courage? Where would be my triumphs? I, who would no more +subscribe to the petty tyranny of conventional law, than to that baser +despotism which is wielded by a mercenary editor, in the absence of a +stern justice in the popular mind. Here I may pine to death--there, my +heart would burst with its own convulsions." + +"No! Margaret, no! It is because they have not the genius, that such +small birds are let to sing. Let them but hear the true minstrel--let +them but know that there is a muse, and how soon would the senseless +twitter which they now tolerate be hushed in undisturbing silence. +In the absence of better birds they bear with what they have. In the +absence of the true muse they build no temple--they throng not to hear. +Nay, even now, already, they look to the west for the minstrel and the +muse--to these very woods. There is a tacit and universal feeling in the +Atlantic country, that leads them to look with expectation to the Great +West, for the genius whose song is to give us fame. 'When?' is the +difficult--the only question. Ah! might I but say to them--'now'--the +muse is already here!" + +He took her hand--she did not withhold it; but her look was subdued--the +fires had left her eyes--her whole frame trembled with the recoil of +those feelings--the relaxation of those nerves--the tension of which we +have endeavored feebly to display. Her cheek was no longer flushed but +pale; her lips trembled--her voice was low and faint--only a broken and +imperfect murmur; and her glance was cast upon the ground. + +"You!" she exclaimed. + +"Yes, I! Have I not said I am not altogether what I seem? Ah! I may not +yet say more. But I am not without power, Margaret, in other and more +powerful regions. I too have had my triumphs; I too can boast that the +minds of other men hang for judgment upon the utterance of mine." + +She looked upward to his glance with a stranger expression of timidity +than her features had before exhibited. The form of Stevens had +insensibly risen in seeming elevation as he spoke, and the expression of +his face was that of a more human pride. He continued:-- + +"My voice is one of authority in circles where yours would be one of +equal attraction and command. I can not promise you an Italian devotion, +Margaret; our people, though sufficiently enthusiastic, are too sensible +to ridicule to let the heart and blood speak out with such freedom as +they use in the warmer regions of the South: but the homage will be more +intellectual, more steady, and the fame more enduring. You must let your +song be heard--you must give me the sweet privilege of making it known +to ears whose very listening is fame." + +"Ah!" she said, "what you say makes me feel how foolishly I have spoken. +What is my song? what have I done? what am I? what have I to hope? +I have done nothing--I am nothing! I have suffered, like a child, a +miserable vanity to delude me, and I have poured into the ears of a +stranger those ravings which I have hitherto uttered to the hills and +forests. You laugh at me now--you must." + +The paleness on her cheek was succeeded by the deepest flush of crimson. +She withdrew her hand from his grasp. + +"Laugh at you, Margaret! You have awakened my wonder. Struck with you +when we first met--" + +"Nay, no more of that, but let us follow these windings; they lead us to +the tarn. It is the prettiest Indian path, and my favorite spot. Here +I ramble morning and eve, and try to forget those vain imaginings and +foolish strivings of thought which I have just inflicted upon you. The +habit proved too much for my prudence, and I spoke as if you were not +present. Possibly, had you not spoken in reply, I should have continued +until now." + +"Why did I speak?" + +"Ah! it is better. I wish you had spoken sooner. But follow me quickly. +The sunlight is now falling in a particular line which gives us the +loveliest effect, shooting its rays through certain fissures of the +rock, and making a perfect arrow-path along the water. You would fancy +that Apollo had just dismissed a golden shaft from his quiver, so direct +is the levelled light along the surface of the lake." + +Speaking thus, they came in sight of the party on the opposite hills, +as we have already shown--without, however, perceiving them in turn. It +will be conjectured without difficulty that, with a nature so full of +impulse, so excitable, as that of Margaret Cooper--particularly in the +company of an adroit man like Stevens, whose purpose was to encourage +her in that language and feeling of egotism which, while it was the most +grateful exercise to herself, was that which most effectually served to +blind her to his designs--her action was always animated, expressively +adapting itself, not only to the words she uttered, but, even when she +did not speak, to the feelings by which she was governed. It was the art +of Stevens to say little except by suggestives. A single word, or +brief sentence, from his lips, judiciously applied to her sentiments or +situation, readily excited her to speech; and this utterance necessarily +brought with it the secret of her soul, the desire of her heart, nay, +the very shape of the delusion which possessed it. The wily libertine, +deliberate as the demon to which we have likened him, could provoke the +warmth which he did not share--could stimulate the eloquence which +he would not feel--could coldly, like some Mephistopheles of science, +subject the golden-winged bird or butterfly to the torturous process of +examination, with a pin thrust through its vitals, and gravely dilate +on its properties, its rich plumage, and elaborate finish of detail, +without giving heed to those writhings which declared its agonies. It is +not meant to be understood that Stevens found no pleasure himself in the +display of that wild, unschooled imagination which was the prevailing +quality in the mind of Margaret Cooper. He was a man of education and +taste. He could be pleased as an amateur; but he wanted the moral to be +touched, and to sympathize with a being so gifted and so feeble--so high +aiming, yet so liable to fall. + +The ardor of Margaret Cooper, and the profound devotion which it was +the policy of Stevens to display, necessarily established their +acquaintance, in a very short time, on the closest footing of +familiarity. With a nature such as hers, all that is wanted is +sympathy--all that she craves is sympathy--and, to win this, no toil is +too great, no sufferance too severe; alas, how frequently do we see that +no penalty is too discouraging! But the confiding spirit never looks for +penalties, and seldom dreams of deceit. + +What, then, were the emotions of William Hinkley as he beheld the +cordiality which distinguished the manner of Margaret Cooper as she +approached the edge of the lake with her companion? In the space of a +single week, this stranger had made greater progress in her acquaintance +than HE had been able to make in a period of years. The problem which +distressed him was beyond his power to solve. His heart was very full; +the moisture was already in his eyes; and when he beheld the animated +gestures of the maid--when he saw her turn to her companion, and +meet his gaze without shrinking, while her own was fixed in gratified +contemplation--he scarcely restrained himself from jumping to his feet. +The old man saw his emotion. + +"William," he said, "did I understand you that this young stranger was a +preacher?" + +"No, sir, but he seeks to be one. He is studying for the ministry, under +Brother Cross." + +"Brother Cross is a good man, and is scarcely likely to have anything to +do with any other than good men. I suppose he knows everything about the +stranger?" + +William Hinkley narrated all that was known on the subject in the +village. In the innocence of his heart, Brother Cross had described +Alfred Stevens as a monument of his own powers of conversion. Under +God, he had been a blessed instrument for plucking this brand from +the burning. A modified account of the brandy-flask accompanied the +narrative. Whether it was that Mr. Calvert, who had been a man of the +world, saw something in the story itself, and in the ludicrousness of +the event, which awakened his suspicions, or whether the carriage of +Alfred Stevens, as he walked with Margaret Cooper, was rather that of a +young gallant than a young student in theology, may admit of question; +but it was very certain that the suspicions of the old gentleman were +somewhat awakened. + +Believing himself to be alone with his fair companion, Alfred Stevens +was not as scrupulous of the rigidity of manner which, if not actually +prescribed to persons occupying his professional position, is certainly +expected from them; and, by a thousand little acts of gallantry, he +proved himself much more at home as a courtier and a ladies' man than as +one filled with the overflow of divine grace, and thoughtful of nothing +less than the serious earnest of his own soul. His hand was promptly +extended to assist the progress of his fair companion--a service which +was singularly unnecessary in the case of one to whom daily rambles, +over hill and through forest, had imparted a most unfeminine degree +of vigor. Now he broke the branch away from before her path; and now, +stooping suddenly, he gathered for her the pale flower of autumn. + +These little acts of courtesy, so natural to the gentleman, were +anything but natural to one suddenly impressed with the ascetical temper +of methodism. Highly becoming in both instances, they were yet strangely +at variance with the straight-laced practices of the thoroughgoing +Wesleyan, who sometimes fancies that the condition of souls is so +desperate as to leave no time for good manners. Mr. Calvert had no +fault to find with Stevens's civility, but there was certainly an +inconsistency between his deportment now, and those characteristics +which were to be predicated of the manner and mode of his very recent +conversion. Besides, there was the story of the brandy-flask, in which +Calvert saw much less of honor either to John Cross or his neophyte. But +the old man did not express his doubts to his young friend, and they +sat together, watching, in a silence only occasionally broken by a +monosyllable, the progress of the unconscious couple below. + +Meanwhile, our fisherman, occupying his lonely perch just above the +stream, had been plying his vocation with all the silent diligence of +one to the manner born. Once busy with his angle, and his world equally +of thought and observation became confined to the stream before his +eyes, and the victim before his imagination. Scarcely seen by his +companions on the heights above, he had succeeded in taking several very +fine fish; and had his liberality been limited to the supper-table of +his venerable friend Calvert, he would long before have given himself +respite, and temporary immunity to the rest of the finny tribe remaining +in the tarn. But Ned Hinkley thought of all his neighbors, not omitting +the two rival widows, Mesdames Cooper and Thackeray. + +Something too, there was in the sport, which, on the present occasion, +beguiled him rather longer than his wont. More than once had his eye +detected, from the advantageous and jutting rock where he lay concealed, +just above the water, the dark outlines of a fish, one of the largest he +had ever seen in the lake, whose brown sides, and occasionally flashing +fins, excited his imagination and offered a challenge to his skill, +which provoked him into something like a feeling of personal hostility. + +The fish moved slowly to and fro, not often in sight, but at such +regularly-recurring periods as to keep up the exciting desire which his +very first appearance had awakened in the mind of his enemy. + +To Ned Hinkley he was the beau-ideal of the trout genius. He was +certainly the hermit-trout of the tarn. Such coolness, such strength, +such size, such an outline, and then such sagacity. That trout was +a triton among his brethren. A sort of Dr. Johnson among fishes. Ned +Hinkley could imagine--for on such subjects his imagination kindled--how +like an oracle must be the words of such a trout, to his brethren, +gathering in council in their deep-down hole--or driven by a shower +under the cypress log--or in any other situation in which an oracle +would be apt to say, looking around him with fierceness mingled +with contempt, "Let no dog bark." Ned Hinkley could also fancy the +contemplations of such a trout as he witnessed the efforts made to +beguile him out of the water. + +"Not to be caught by a fly like that, my lad!" and precisely as if +the trout had spoken what was certainly whispered in his own mind, the +fisherman silently changed his gilded, glittering figure on his hook for +one of browner plumage--one of the autumn tribe of flies which stoop to +the water from the overhanging trees, and glide off for twenty paces in +the stream, to dart up again to the trees, in as many seconds, if not +swallowed by some watchful fisher-trout, like the one then before the +eyes of our companion. + +Though his fancy had become excited, Ned Hinkley was not impatient. +With a cautious hand he conducted the fly down the stream with the +flickering, fidgety motion which the real insect would have employed. +The keen-nosed trout turned with the movements of the fly, but +philosophically kept aloof. Now he might be seen to sink, now to rise, +now he glided close under the rock where the angler reclined, and, even +in the very deep waters which were there, which were consequently very +dark, so great was the size of the animal, that its brown outline was +yet to be seen, with its slightly-waving tail, and at moments the flash +of its glittering eye, as, inclining on its side, it glanced cunningly +upward through the water. + +Again did Ned Hinkley consult his resources. Fly after fly was taken +from his box, and suffered to glide upon the stream. The wary fish did +not fail to bestow some degree of attention upon each, but his regards +were too deliberate for the success of the angler, and he had almost +began to despair, when he observed a slight quivering movement in the +object of pursuit which usually prepares the good sportsman to expect +his prey. The fins were laid aback. The motion of the fish became +steady; a slight vibration of the tail only was visible; and in another +moment he darted, and was hooked. + +Then came the struggle. Ned Hinkley had never met with a more formidable +prey. The reel was freely given, but the strain was great upon shaft and +line. There was no such thing as contending. The trout had his way, and +went down and off, though it might have been observed that the fisherman +took good care to baffle his efforts to retreat in the direction of the +old log which had harbored him, and the tangling alders, which might +have been his safest places of retreat. The fish carried a long stretch +of line, but the hook was still in his jaws, and this little annoyance +soon led him upon other courses. The line became relaxed, and with this +sign, Ned Hinkley began to amuse himself in tiring his victim. + +This required skill and promptness rather than strength. The +hermit-trout was led to and fro by a judicious turn of wrist or elbow. +His efforts had subsided to a few spasmodic struggles--an occasional +struggle ending with a shiver, and then he was brought to the surface. +This was followed by a last great convulsive effort, when his tail +churned the water into a little circle of foam, which disappeared the +moment his struggles were over. But a few seconds more were necessary to +lift the prey into sight of all the parties near to the lake. They had +seen some of the struggle, and had imagined the rest. Neither Margaret +Cooper nor Stevens had suspected the presence of the fisherman until +drawn to the spot by this trial of strength. + +"What a prodigious fish!" exclaimed Stevens; "can we go to the spot?" + +"Oh! easily--up the rocks on the left there is a path. I know it well. +I have traversed it often. Will you go? The view is very fine from that +quarter." + +"Surely: but who is the fisherman?" + +"Ned Hinkley, the nephew of the gentleman with whom you stay. He is +a hunter, fisherman, musician--everything. A lively, simple, but +well-meaning young person. It is something strange that his cousin +William Hinkley is not with him. They are usually inseparable." + +And with these words she led the way for her companion following the +edge of the lake until reaching the point where the rocks seemed to form +barriers to their further progress, but which her agility and energy had +long since enabled her to overcome. + +"A bold damsel!" said Calvert, as he viewed her progress. "She certainly +does not intend to clamber over that range of precipices. She will peril +her life." + +"No!" said William Hinkley; "she has done it often to my great terror. I +have been with her more than once over the spot myself. She seems to me +to have no fear, and to delight in the most dangerous places." + +"But her companion! If he's not a more active man than he seems he will +hardly succeed so well." + +William was silent, his eye watching with the keenest interest the +progress of the two. In a few moments he started to his feet with some +appearance of surprise. + +"What's the matter?" demanded Calvert. + +"She does not seem as if she wished to ascend the rocks, but she's +aiming to keep along the ledges that overhang the stream, so as to get +where Ned is. That can hardly be done by the surest-footed, and most +active. Many of the rocks are loose. The ledge is very narrow, and even +where there is room for the feet there are such projections above as +leave no room for the body. I will halloo to her, and tell her of the +danger." + +"If you halloo, you will increase the danger--you will alarm her," said +the old man. + +"It will be best to stop her now, in season, when she can go back. Stay +for me, sir, I can run along on the heights so as to overlook them, and +can then warn without alarming." + +"Do so, my son, and hasten, for she seems bent on going forward. The +preacher follows but slowly, and she stops for him. Away!" + +The youth darted along the hill, pursuing something of a table-line +which belonged to the equal elevation of the range of rock on which he +stood. The rock was formed of successive and shelving ledges, at such +intervals, however, as to make it no easy task--certainly no safe +one--to drop from one to the other. The perch of Ned Hinkley, was a +projection from the lowest of these ledges, running brokenly along the +margin of the basin until lost in the forest slope over which Margaret +Cooper had led her companion. + +If it was a task to try the best vigor and agility--to say nothing of +courage--of the ablest mountaineer, to ascend the abrupt ledges from +below, aiming at the highest point of elevation. The attempt was still +more startling to follow the lower ledges, some of which hung, loosened +and tottering, just above the deepest parts of the lake. Yet, with that +intrepidity which marked her character, this was the very task which +Margaret Cooper had proposed to herself. William Hinkley had justly said +that she did not seem to know fear; and when Stevens with the natural +sense of caution which belongs to one to whom such performances are +unusual, suggested to her that such a pathway seemed very dangerous-- + +"Dangerous!" she exclaimed, standing upon the merest pinnacle of a +loosened fragment which rested on the very margin of the stream. + +"Did you never perceive that there was a loveliness in danger which you +scarcely felt to be half so great in any other object or situation. I +love the dangerous. It seems to lift my soul, to make my heart bound +with joy and the wildest delight. I know nothing so delightful as storm +and thunder. I look, and see the tall trees shivering and going down +with a roar, and feel that I could sing--sing aloud--and believe that +there are voices, like mine, then singing through all the tempest. But +there is no danger here. I have clambered up these ledges repeatedly--up +to the very top. Here, you see, we have an even pathway along the edge. +We have nothing to do but to set the foot down firmly." + +But Stevens was not so sure, and his opinion on the beauties of the +dangerous did not chime exactly with hers. Still, he did not lack for +courage, and his pride did not suffer him to yield in a contest with a +female. He gazed on her with increasing wonder. If he saw no loveliness +in danger--he saw no little loveliness just then in her; and she might +be said to personify danger to his eyes. Her tall, symmetrical, and +commanding figure, perched on the trembling pinnacle of rock which +sustained her, was as firm and erect as if she stood on the securest +spot of land. + +Nor was her position that of simple security and firmness. The grace of +her attitude, her extended and gently waving arm as she spoke, denoted +a confidence which could only have arisen from a perfect unconsciousness +of danger. Her swan-like neck, with the face slightly turned back to +him; the bright flashing eyes, and the smile of equal pride and dignity +on her exquisitely-chiselled mouth;--all formed a picture for the +artist's study, which almost served to divert the thoughts of Stevens +from the feeling of danger which he expressed. + +While he gazed, he heard a voice calling in tones of warning from above; +and, at the sound, he perceived a change in the expression of Margaret +Cooper's face, from confidence and pride, to scorn and contempt. At the +same time she darted forward from rock to rock, with a sort of defying +haste, which made him tremble for her safety, and left him incapable to +follow. The call was repeated; and Stevens looked up, and recognised the +person of the youth whom he had counselled that morning with such bad +success. + +If the progress of Margaret Cooper appeared dangerous in his sight, that +of the young man was evidently more so. He was leaping, with the cool +indifference of one who valued his life not a pin's fee, from ledge to +ledge, down the long steppes which separated the several reaches of the +rock formation. The space between was very considerable, the descent +abrupt; the youth had no steadying pole to assist him, but flying +rather than leaping, was now beheld in air, and in the next moment stood +balancing himself with difficulty, but with success, and without seeming +apprehension, on the pinnacle of rock below him. In this way he was +approaching the lower ledge along which Margaret Cooper was hurrying as +rapidly as fearlessly, and calling to her as he came, implored her to +forbear a progress which was so full of danger. + +Stevens fancied he had no reason to love the youth, but he could not +help admiring and envying his equal boldness and agility; the +muscular ease with which he flung himself from point to point, and his +sure-footed descent upon the crags and fragments which trembled and +tottered beneath the sudden and unaccustomed burden. Charitably wishing +that, amid all his agility he might yet make a false step, and find an +unexpected and rather cold bath in the lake below, Stevens now turned +his eyes upon Margaret Cooper. + +She did not answer the counsels of William Hinkley--certainly did not +heed them: and, but for the increased impatience of her manner might be +supposed not to have heard them. The space between herself and Stevens +had increased meanwhile, and looking back, she waited for his approach. +She stood on a heavy mass which jutted above the lake, and not six feet +from the water. Her right foot was upon the stone, sustaining the +whole weight of her person. Her left was advanced and lifted to another +fragment which lay beyond. As she looked back she met the eyes of +Stevens. Just then he saw the large fragment yield beneath her feet. She +seemed suddenly conscious of it in the same moment, and sprung rapidly +on that to which her left foot was already advanced. The impetus of +this movement, sent the rock over which she had left. This disturbed +the balance of that to which she had risen, and while the breath of the +stranger hung suspended in the utterance of the meditated warning, the +catastrophe had taken place. The stone shrank from beneath her, and, +sinking with it, in another moment, she was hidden from sight in the +still, deep waters of the lake. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +SOUSING A GURNET. + + + + + +The disappearance of Margaret Cooper was succeeded by a shriek from +above--a single shriek--a cry of terror and despair; and in the same +instant the form of William Hinkley might have been seen cleaving +the air, with the boldness of a bird, secure always of his wing, and +descending into the lake as nearly as it was possible for him to come, +to the spot where she had sunk. Our cooler fisherman looked up to the +abrupt eminence, just above his own head, from which his devoted cousin +had sprung. + +"By gemini!" he exclaimed with an air of serious apprehension, "if +William Hinkley hasn't knocked his life out by that plunge he's more +lucky than I think him. It's well the lake's deep enough in this quarter +else he'd have tried the strength of hard head against harder rock +below. But there's no time for such nice calculations! We can all +swim--that's a comfort." + +Thus speaking, he followed the example of his cousin, though more +quietly, plunging off from his lowlier perch, and cleaving the water, +headforemost, with as little commotion as a sullen stone would make +sent directly downward to the deep. By this time, however, our former +companion, Stevens, had done the same thing. Stevens was no coward, but +he had no enthusiasm. He obeyed few impulses. His proceedings were all +the result of calculation. He could swim as well as his neighbors. He +had no apprehensions on that score; but he disliked cold water; and +there was an involuntary shrug of the shoulder and shiver of the limbs +before he committed himself to the water, which he did with all the +deliberation of the cat, who, longing for fish, is yet unwilling to +wet her own feet. His deliberation, and the nearness of his position to +Margaret Cooper, were so far favorable to his design that he succeeded +in finding her first. It must be understood that the events, which +we have taken so much time to tell, occupied but a few seconds in the +performance. Stevens was in the water quite as quickly as Ned Hinkley, +and only not so soon as his more devoted and desperate cousin. If it was +an advantage to him to come first in contact with the form of Margaret +Cooper, it had nearly proved fatal to him also. In the moment when he +encountered her, her outstretched and grasping arms, encircled his neck. +They rose together, but he was nearly strangled, and but for the timely +interposition of the two cousins, they must probably have both perished. + +It was the fortune of our fisherman to relieve the maiden, whom he bore +to the opposite shore with a coolness, a skill and spirit, which enabled +him to save himself from her desperate but unconscious struggles, +while supporting her with a degree of ease and strength which had +been acquired while teaching some dozen of the village urchins how to +practise an art in which he himself was reckoned a great proficient. + +It was fortunate for Stevens that the charities of William Hinkley were +more active and indulgent than his own, since, without the timely succor +and aid which he afforded, that devout young gentleman would have been +made to discontinue his studies very suddenly and have furnished a +summary conclusion to this veracious narrative--a consummation which, if +it be as devoutly wished by the reader as by the writer, will be a much +greater source of annoyance to our publisher than it has proved already. +Never had poor mortal been compelled to drink, at one time, a greater +quantity of that celestial beverage, which the Reverend Mr. Pierpont +insists is the only liquor drunk at the hotels of heaven. We should be +sorry to misrepresent that very gentle gentleman, but we believe that +this is substantially his idea. It was unfortunate for Stevens that, +previously to this, he had never been accustomed to drink much of this +beverage in its original strength anywhere. He had been too much in the +habit of diluting it; and being very temperate always in his enjoyment +of the creature comforts, he had never taken it, even when thus diluted, +except in very moderate quantities. + +In consequence of his former abstemiousness, the quantity which he now +swallowed nearly strangled him. He was about to take his last draught +with many wry faces, when the timely arms of the two cousins, by no very +sparing application of force withdrew him from the grasp of the damsel; +and without very well understanding the process, or any particulars of +his extrication, he found himself stretched upon the banks over which he +had lately wandered, never dreaming of any such catastrophe; discharging +from his stomach by no effort of his own, a large quantity of foreign +ingredients--the ordinary effect, we are given to understand, of every +inordinate indulgence in strong waters. + +Our excellent old friend, Mr. Calvert, was soon upon the spot, and +while Ned Hinkley was despatched to the village for assistance, he took +himself the charge of recovering the unconscious maiden. Half-forgetting +his hostility, William Hinkley undertook the same good service to +Stevens, who really seemed to need succor much more than his fair +companion. While William Hinkley busied himself by rolling, friction, +fanning, and other practices, employed in such cases, to bring his +patient back to life, he could not forbear an occasional glance to the +spot where, at a little distance, lay the object of his affections. + +Her face was toward him, as she lay upon her side. Her head was +supported on the lap of the old man. Her long hair hung dishevelled, of +a more glossy black now when filled with water. Her eyes were shut, and +the dark fringes of their lids lay like a pencil-streak across the pale, +prominent orbs which they served to bind together. The glow of indignant +pride with which she was wont to receive his approaches had all +disappeared in the mortal struggle for life through which she had lately +gone; and pure, as seemingly free from every passion, her pale beauties +appeared to his doating eye the very perfection of human loveliness. Her +breast now heaved convulsively--deep sighs poured their way through +her parted lips. Her eyes alternately opened upon but shut against the +light, and, finally, the exertions of the old man were rewarded as +the golden gleam of expression began to relight and re-illumine those +features which seemed never to be without it. + +She recovered her consciousness, started up, made an effort to rise, +but, reeling with inability, sunk down again into the paternal grasp of +the old man. + +"Mr. Calvert!" she murmured. + +"You are safe, my daughter," said the old man. + +"But how did it happen?--where am I?" + +"By the lake." + +"Ah! I remember. I was drowning. I felt it all--the choking--the +struggle--the water in my ears and eyes! It was a dreadful feeling. How +did I come here? Who saved me?" + +"Ned Hinkley brought you to land, but he was helped by his cousin +William, who assisted the stranger." + +"The stranger? ah! yes, I remember: but where is he?" + +She looked around wildly and anxiously, and beholding William Hinkley +at a little distance, busy with the still unconscious form of Stevens, +a quick, fearful shudder passed over her frame. She almost crouched into +the old man's arms as she asked, in husky accents-- + +"He is not dead--he lives?" + +"I hope so. He breathes." + +She waited for no more, but, starting to her feet, she staggered to the +spot where Stevens lay. The old man would have prevented her. + +"You are feeble; you will do yourself harm. Better, if you are able to +walk, hurry homeward with me, when you can change your clothes." + +"Would you have me ungrateful?" she exclaimed; "shall I neglect him when +he risked his life for me?" + +There was a consciousness in her mind that it was not all gratitude +which moved her, for the deathly paleness of her cheek was now succeeded +by a warm blush which denoted a yet stronger and warmer emotion. The +keen eyes of William Hinkley understood the meaning of this significant +but unsyllabling mode of utterance, and his eyes spoke the reproach to +hers which his lips left unsaid:-- + +"Ah! did I not risk my life too, to prevent--to save? When would she +feel such an interest in me? when would she look thus were my life at +stake?" + +"He will not be neglected," said the old man, gently endeavoring +to restrain her. Perhaps she would not have given much heed to the +interruption, for hers was the strength of an unfettered will, one +accustomed to have way, but that, at this moment, the eyes of Stevens +unclosed and met her own. His consciousness had returned, and, under the +increasing expression in his looks, she sunk back, and permitted the old +man to lead her along the homeward path. More than once she looked back, +but, with the assurance of Mr. Calvert that there was no more danger to +be apprehended, she continued to advance; the worthy old man, as they +went, seeking to divert her mind, by pleasant and choice anecdotes of +which his memory had abundant stores, from dwelling upon the unpleasant +and exciting event which had just taken place. + +Margaret Cooper, whose habits previously had kept her from much intimacy +with the village sage, was insensibly taken by his gentleness, the +purity of his taste, the choiceness of his expression, the extent of his +resources. She wondered how a mind so full should have remained unknown +to her so long--committing the error, very common to persons of strong +will and determined self-esteem, of assuming that she should, as a +matter of inevitable necessity, have known everything and everybody of +which the knowledge is at all desirable. + +In pleasant discourse he beguiled her progress, until Ned Hinkley was +met returning with horses--the pathway did not admit of a vehicle, and +the village had none less cumbrous than cart and wagon--on one of which +she mounted, refusing all support or assistance; and when, Mr. Calvert +insisted upon walking beside her, she grasped the bough of a tree, broke +off a switch, and, giving an arch but good-natured smile and nod to the +old man, laid it smartly over the horse's flank, and in a few moments +was out of sight. + +"The girl is smart," said Calvert, as he followed her retreating form +with his eye--"too smart! She speaks well--has evidently read. No +wonder that William loves her; but she will never do for him. She has +no humility. Pride is the demon in her heart. Pride will overthrow her. +These woods spoil her. Solitude is the natural nurse of self-esteem, +particularly where it is strong at first, and is coupled with anything +like talent. Better for such a one if sickness, and strife, and +suffering, had taken her at the cradle, and nursed her with the milk +of self-denial, which is the only humility worth having. And yet, why +should I speak of her, when the sting remains in my own soul--when I yet +feel the pang of my feebleness and self-reproach? Alas! I should school +none. The voice speaks to me ever, 'Old man, to thy prayers! Thy own +knees are yet stubborn as thy neck!'" + +Leaving him to the becoming abasement of that delusive self-comfort +which ministers to our vain-glory, and which this good old man had so +happily succeeded in rebuking, we will return to the spot where we left +our other parties. Ned Hinkley had already joined them. With his horse +he had providently brought a suit of his own clothes for the stranger, +which, though made of homespun, and not of the most modern fashion, +were yet warm and comfortable, and as Stevens was compelled to think, +infinitely preferable to the chilly and dripping garments which he wore. +A few moments, in the cover of the woods, sufficed the neophyte to +make the alteration; while the two cousins, to whom the exigencies of +forester and fisherman life were more familiar prepared to walk the +water out of their own habits, by giving rapid circulation to their +blood and limbs. While their preparations were in progress, however, Ned +Hinkley could not deny himself the pleasure of discoursing at length on +the subject of the late disaster. + +"Stranger," he said, "I must tell you that you've had a souse in as fine +a fishing-pond as you'll meet with from here to Salt river. I reckon, +now, that while you were in, you never thought for a moment of the noble +trout that inhabit it." + +"I certainly did not," said the other. + +"There, now! I could have sworn it. That a man should go with his eyes +open into a country without ever asking what sort of folks lived there! +Isn't it monstrous?" + +"It certainly seems like a neglect of the first duty of a traveller," +said Stevens good-humoredly; "let me not show myself heedless of +another. Let me thank you, gentlemen, for saving my life. I believe I +owe it to one or both of you." + +"To him, not to me," said Ned Hinkley, pointing to his cousin. William +was at a little distance, looking sullenly upon the two with eyes which, +if dark and moody, seemed to denote a thought which was anywhere else +but in the scene around him. + +"He saved you, and I saved the woman. I wouldn't have a woman drowned in +this lake for all the houses in Charlemont." + +"Ah! why?" + +"'Twould spoil it for fishing for ever." + +"Why would a woman do this more than a man?" + +"For a very good reason, my friend. Because the ghost of a woman talks, +and a man's don't, they say. The ghost of a man says what it wants to +say with its eyes; a woman's with her tongue. You know there's nothing +scares fish so much as one's talking." + +"I have heard so. But is it so clear that there is such a difference +between ghosts? How is it known that the female does all the talking?" + +"Oh, that's beyond dispute. There's a case that we all know about--all +here in Charlemont--the case of Joe Barney's millpond. Barney lost +one of his children and one of his negroes in the pond--drowned as +a judgment, they say, for fishing a Sunday. That didn't make any +difference with the fish: you could catch them there just the same as +before. But when old Mrs. Prey fell in, crossing the dam, the case was +altered. You might sit there for hours and days, night and day, and bob +till you were weary; devil a bite after that! Now, what could make the +difference but the tongue? Mother Frey had a tongue of her own, I tell +you. 'Twas going when she fell in, and I reckon's been going ever +since. She was a sulphury, spiteful body, to be sure, and some said she +poisoned the fish if she didn't scare them. To my thinking, 'twas the +tongue." + +Stevens had been something seduced from his gravity by the blunt humor +and unexpected manner of Ned Hinkley; besides, having been served, if +not saved, by his hands, something, perhaps, of attention was due to +what he had to say; but he recollected the assumed character which he +had to maintain--something doubtful, too, if he had not already impaired +it in the sight and hearing of those who had come so opportunely but +so unexpectedly to his relief, He recovered his composure and dignity; +forbore to smile at the story which might otherwise have provoked not +only smile but corresponding answer; and, by the sudden coolness of +his manner, tended to confirm in Ned Hinkley's bosom the half-formed +hostility which the cause of his cousin had originally taught him to +feel. + +"I'll lick the conceit out of him yet!" he muttered, as Stevens, turning +away, ascended to the spot where William Hinkley stood. + +"I owe you thanks, Mr. Hinkley," he began. + +The young man interrupted him. + +"You owe me nothing, sir," he answered hastily, and prepared to turn +away. + +"You have saved my life, sir." + +"I should have saved your dog's life, sir, in the same situation. I have +done but an act of duty." + +"But, Mr. Hinkley--" + +"Your horse is ready for you, sir," said the young man, turning off +abruptly, and darting up the sides of the hill, remote from the pathway, +and burying himself in the contiguous forests. + +"Strange!" exclaimed the neophyte--"this is very strange!" + +"Not so strange, stranger, as that I should stand your groom, without +being brought up to such a business for any man. Here's your nag, sir." + +"I thank you--I would not willingly trespass," he replied, as he +relieved our angler from his grasp upon the bridle. + +"You're welcome without the thanks, stranger. I reckon you know the +route you come. Up hill, follow the track to the top, take the left turn +to the valley, then you'll see the houses, and can follow your own nose +or your nag's. Either's straight enough to carry you to his rack. You'll +find your clothes at your boarding-house about the time that you'll get +there." + +"Nay, sir, I already owe you much. Let them not trouble you. I will take +them myself." + +"No, no, stranger!" was the reply of our fisherman, as he stooped down +and busied himself in making the garments into a compact bundle; "I'm +not the man to leave off without doing the thing I begin to do. I +sometimes do more than I bargain for--sometimes lick a man soundly when +I set out only to tweak his nose; but I make it a sort of Christian law +never to do less. You may reckon to find your clothes home by the time +you get there. There's your road." + +"A regular pair of cubs!" muttered the horseman, as he ascended the +hill. + +"To purse up his mouth as if I was giving him root-drink, when I was +telling him about Mother Frey's spoiling the fish! Let him take care--he +may get the vinegar next time, and not the fish!" + +And, with these characteristic commentaries, the parties separated for +the time. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +PHILOSOPHY OP FIGHTING. + + + + + +"You're not a fighter, Bill Hinkley, and that's about the worst fault +that I can find against you." + +Such was the beginning of a dialogue between the cousins some three days +after the affair which was narrated in our last chapter. The two young +men were at the house of the speaker, or rather at his mother's house; +where, a favorite and only son, he had almost supreme dominion. He was +putting his violin in tune, and the sentences were spoken at intervals +with the discordant scraps of sound which were necessarily elicited by +this unavoidable musical operation. These sounds might be said to form a +running accompaniment for the dialogue, and, considering the sombre mood +of the person addressed, they were, perhaps, far more congenial than any +more euphonious strains would have been. + +"Not a fighter!" said the other; "why, what do you mean?" + +"Why, just what I say--you are not a fighter. You love reading, and +fiddling, and fishing sometimes, and sometimes dancing, and hunting, and +swimming; but I'm pretty certain you don't love fighting. You needn't +contradict, Bill--I've been thinking the matter over; and I'm sure of +it. I recollect every battle or scrape you ever were in, from the time +we went to old Chandler's, and I tell you, you're not a fighter--you +don't love fighting!" + +This was concluded with a tremendous scrape over the strings, which +seemed to say as well as scrape could speak--"There can be no mistake on +the subject--I've said it." + +"If I knew exactly what you were driving at," said the other, "perhaps +I might answer you. I never pretended to be a fighter; and as for loving +it, as I love eating, drinking, books, fiddling, and dancing, why that +needs no answer. Of course I do not, and I don't know who does." + +"There it is. I told you. I knew it. You'd sooner do almost anything +than fight." + +"If you mean that I would submit to insult," said the more peaceable +cousin, with some displeasure in his tones and countenance, "sooner than +resent it, you are very much mistaken. It wouldn't be advisable even for +you to try the experiment." + +"Poh, poh, Bill, you know for that matter that it wouldn't take much +trying. I'd lick you as easily now as I did when we were boys together." + +"We are boys no longer," said the other gravely. + +"I'm as much a boy as ever, so far as the licking capacity calls for +boyhood. I've pretty much the same spirit now that I had then, and ten +times the same strength and activity. But don't look so blue. I'm not +going to try my strength and spirit and activity on you. And don't +suppose, Bill Hinkley, that I mean to say you're anything of a coward, +or that you'd submit to any open insult; but still I do say, you're not +only not fond of fighting, but you're just not as much inclined that way +as you should be." + +"Indeed! what more would you have? Do you not say that I would not +submit to insult?--that I show the proper degree of courage in such +cases?" + +"Not the PROPER degree. That's the very question. You're not quick +enough. You wait for the first blow. You don't step out to meet the +enemy. You look for him to come to you." + +"Surely! I look upon fighting as brutal--to be waited for, not +sought--to be resorted to only in compliance with necessity--to be +avoided to the last!" + +"No such thing--all a mistake. Fighting and the desire to get on the +shoulders of our neighbors is a natural passion. We see that every day. +The biggest boy licks the one just below him, he whips the next, and +so down, and there's not one that don't lick somebody and don't stand +licked himself--for the master licks the biggest. The desire to fight +and flog is natural, and this being the case, it stands to reason that +we must lick our neighbor or he'll be sure to lick us." + +"Pshaw! you speak like a boy yet. This is schoolhouse philosophy." + +"And very good philosophy too. I'm thinking the schoolhouse and the +play-ground is pretty much a sort of world to itself. It's no bad show +of what the world without is; and one of its first lessons and that +which I think the truest, is the necessity of having a trial of strength +with every new-comer; until we learn where he's to stand in the ranks, +number one or number nothing. You see there just the same passions, +though, perhaps, on a small scale, that we afterward find to act upon +the big world of manhood. There, we fight for gingerbread, for marbles, +top and ball; not unfrequently because we venture to look at our +neighbor's sweetheart; and sometimes, quite as often, for the love of +the thing and to know where the spirit and the sinew are. Well, isn't +that just what the big world does after us? As men, we fight for bigger +playthings, for pounds, where before we fought for pence--for gold where +before we fought for coppers--for command of a country instead of a +schoolyard; for our wives instead of sweethearts, and through sheer +deviltry and the love of the thing, when there's nothing else to fight +about, just the same as we did in boyhood." + +"But even were you to prove, and I to admit, that it is so, just as you +say, that would not prove the practice to be a jot more proper, or a jot +less brutal." + +"Begging your pardon, Bill, it proves it to be right and proper, and +accordingly, if brutal, a becoming brutality. If this is the natural +disposition of boys and men, don't you see that this schoolboy licking +and fighting is a necessary part of one's moral education? It learns one +to use his strength, his limbs and sinews, as he may be compelled to use +them, in self-defence, in every future day of his life. You know very +well what follows a boy at school who doesn't show himself ready to bung +up his neighbor's eye the moment he sees it at a cross-twinkle. He gets +his own bunged up. Well, it's just the same thing when he gets to be +a man. If you have a dispute with your enemy, I don't say that you +shouldn't reason with him, but I do say that your reasoning will have +very little effect upon him unless he sees that you are able and willing +to write it in black and blue upon his sheepskin. And what better way +could you find to show him THAT, unless by giving him word and blow, the +blow first, as being the most impressive argument?" + +"You must have been dreaming of these subjects last night." said the +grave cousin--"you seem to have them unusually well cut and dried." + +"I haven't been dreaming about it, Bill, but I confess I've been +thinking about it very seriously all night, and considering all the +arguments that I thought you would make use of against it. I haven't +quite done with my discussion, which I took up entirely for your +benefit." + +"Indeed! you are quite philanthropic before breakfast; but let us hear +you?" + +"You talk of the brutality of fighting--now in what does that brutality +consist? Is it not in breaking noses, kicking shins, bunging up eyes, +and making one's neighbor feel uncomfortable in thigh, and back, and +arms, and face, and skin, and indeed, everywhere, where a big fist or a +cowhide shoe may plant a buffet or a bruise?" + +"Quite a definition, Ned." + +"I'm glad you think so: for if it's brutal in the boy to do so to his +schoolmate, is it less so for the schoolmaster to do the same thing to +the boy that's under his charge? He bruises my skin, makes my thighs, +and arms, and back, and legs, and face, and hands, ache, and if my +definition be a correct one, he is quite as brutal as the boys who do +the same thing to one another." + +"He does it because the boys deserve it, and in order to make them +obedient and active." + +"And when did a boy not deserve a flogging when he gets licked by his +companion?" demanded the other triumphantly--"and don't the licking make +him obedient, and don't the kicking make him active? By gemini, I've +seen more activity from one chap's legs under the quick application of +another's feet, than I think anything else could produce, unless it were +feet made expressly for such a purpose and worked by a steam-engine. +That might make them move something faster, but I reckon there would be +no need in such a case of any such improvement." + +"What are you driving at, Ned Hinkley? This is by far the longest +argument, I think, that you've ever undertaken. You must be moved by +some very serious considerations." + +"I am, and you'll see what I'm driving at after a little while. I'm not +fond of arguing, you know, but I look upon the fighting principle as a +matter to be known and believed in, and I wish to make clear to you my +reasons for believing in it myself. You don't suppose I'd put down the +fiddle for a talk at any time if the subject was not a serious one?" + +"Give way--you have the line." + +"About the brutality of fighting then, there's another thing to be +said. Fighting produces good feeling--that is to say supposing one party +fairly to have licked another." + +"Indeed--that's new." + +"And true too, Bill Hinkley. It cures the sulks. It lets off steam. +It's like a thunderstorm that comes once in a while, and drives away the +clouds, and clears the skies until all's blue again." + +"Black and blue." + +"No! what was black becomes blue. Chaps that have been growling at each +other for weeks and months lose their bad blood--" + +"From the nostrils!" + +"Yes, from the nostrils. It's a sort of natural channel, and runs freely +from that quarter. The one crows and the other runs and there's an end +of the scrape and the sulks. The weaker chap, feeling his weakness, +ceases to be impudent; the stronger, having his power acknowledged, +becomes the protector of the weak. Each party falls into his place, and +so far from the licking producing bad feeling it produces good feeling +and good humor; and I conclude that one half of the trouble in the +world, the squabbles between man and man, woman and woman, boy and +boy--nay, between rival nations--is simply because your false and +foolish notions of brutality and philanthropy keep them from coming +to the scratch as soon as they should. They hang off, growling and +grumbling, and blackguarding, and blaspheming, when, if they would only +take hold, and come to an earnest grapple, the odds would soon show +themselves--broken heads and noses would follow--the bad blood would +run, and as soon as each party found his level, the one being finally +on his back, peace would ensue, and there would be good humor for ever +after, or at least until the blood thickened again. I think there's +reason in my notion. I was thinking it over half the night. I've thought +of it oftentimes before. I've never yet seen the argument that's strong +enough to tumble it." + +"Your views are certainly novel, Ned, if not sound. You will excuse +me if I do not undertake to dispute them this morning. I give in, +therefore, and you may congratulate yourself upon having gained a +triumph if not a convert?" + +"Stop, stop, William Hinkley: you don't suppose I've done all this +talking only to make a convert or to gain a triumph?" + +"Why, that's your object in fighting, why not in arguing?" + +"Well, that's the object of most persons when they dispute, I know; but +it is not mine. I wish to make a practical application of my doctrine." + +"Indeed! who do you mean to fight now?" + +"It's not for me to fight, it's for you." + +"Me!" + +"Yes; you have the preference by rights, though if you don't--and I'm +rather sorry to think, as I told you at the start, that the only fault +I had to find with you is that you're not a fighter--I must take your +place and settle the difference." + +William Hinkley turned upon the speaker. The latter had laid down the +violin, having, in the course of the argument, broken all its strings; +and he stood now, unjacketed, and still in the chamber, where the two +young men had been sleeping, almost in the attitude of one about to +grapple with an antagonist. The serious face of him whose voice had been +for war--his startling position--the unwonted eagerness of his eye, +and the ludicrous importance which he attached to the strange principle +which he had been asserting--conquered for a moment the graver mood +of his love-sick companion, and he laughed outright at his pugnacious +cousin. The latter seemed a little offended. + +"It's well you can laugh at such things, Bill Hinkley, but I can't. +There was a time when every mother's son in Kentucky was a man, and +could stand up to his rack with the best. If he couldn't keep the top +place, he went a peg lower; but he made out to keep the place for which +he was intended. Then, if a man disliked his neighbor he crossed over to +him and said so, and they went at it like men, and as soon as the pout +was over they shook hands, and stood side by side, and shoulder to +shoulder, like true friends, in every danger, and never did fellows +fight better against Indians and British than the same two men, that had +lapped muscles, and rolled in the grain together till you couldn't say +whose was whose, and which was which, till the best man jumped up, and +shook himself, and gave the word to crow. After that it was all peace +and good humor, and they drank and danced together, and it didn't lessen +a man in his sweetheart's eyes, though he was licked, if he could say +he had stood up like a man, and was downed after a good hug, because he +couldn't help it. Now, there's precious little of that. The chap that +dislikes his fellow, hasn't the soul to say it out, but he goes aside +and sneers and snickers, and he whispers things that breed slanders, +and scandals, and bad blood, until there's no trusting anybody; and +everything is full of hate and enmity--but then it's so peaceful! +Peaceful, indeed! as if there was any peace where there is no +confidence, and no love, and no good feeling either for one thing or +another." + +"Really, Ned, it seems to me you're indignant without any occasion. I am +tempted to laugh at you again." + +"No, don't. You'd better not." + +"Ha! ha! ha! I can not help it, Ned; so don't buffet me. You forced me +into many a fight when I was a boy, for which I had no stomach; I trust +you will not pummel me yourself because the world has grown so hatefully +pacific. Tell me, in plain terms, who I am to fight now." + +"Who! who but Stevens?--this fellow Stevens. He's your enemy, you +say--comes between you and your sweetheart--between you and your own +mother--seems to look down upon you--speaks to you as if he was wiser, +and better, and superior in every way--makes you sad and sulky to your +best friends--you growl and grumble at him--you hate him--you fear +him--" + +"Fear him!" + +"Yes, yes, I say fear him, for it's a sort of fear to skulk off from +your mother's house to avoid seeing him--" + +"What, Ned, do you tell me that--do you begrudge me a place with you +here, my bed, my breakfast?" + +"Begrudge! dang it, William Hinkley, don't tell me that, unless you want +me to lay heavy hand on your shoulder!"--and the tears gushed into +the rough fellow's eyes as he spoke these words, and he turned off to +conceal them. + +"I don't mean to vex you, Ned, but why tell me that I skulk--that I fear +this man?" + +"Begrudge!" muttered the other. + +"Nay, forgive me; I didn't mean it. I was hasty when I said so; but +you also said things to provoke me. Do you suppose that I fear this man +Stevens?" + +"Why don't you lick him then, or let him lick you, and bring the +matter to an ending? Find out who's the best man, and put an end to +the growling and the groaning. As it now stands you're not the same +person--you're not fit company for any man. You scarcely talk, you +listen to nobody. You won't fish, you won't hunt: you're sulky yourself +and you make other people so!" + +"I'm afraid, Ned, it wouldn't much help the matter even if I were to +chastise the stranger." + +"It would cure him of his impudence. It would make him know how to +treat you; and if the rest of your grievance comes from Margaret Cooper, +there's a way to end that too." + +"How! you wouldn't have me fight her?" said William Hinkley, with an +effort to smile. + +"Why, we may call it fighting," said the advocate for such wholesale +pugnacity, "since it calls for quite as much courage sometimes to face +one woman as it does to face three men. But what I mean that you should +do with her is to up and at her. Put the downright question like a man +'will you?' or 'won't you?' and no more beating about the bush. If she +says 'no!' there's no more to be said, and if I was you after that, I'd +let Stevens have her or the d--l himself, since I'm of the notion that +no woman is fit for me if she thinks me not fit for her. Such a woman +can't be worth having, and after that I wouldn't take her as a gracious +gift were she to be made twice as beautiful. The track's before you, +William Hinkley. Bring the stranger to the hug, and Margaret Cooper too, +if she'll let you. But, at all events, get over the grunting and the +growling, the sulky looks, and the sour moods. They don't become a man +who's got a man's heart, and the sinews of a man." + +William Hinkley leaned against the fireplace with his head resting upon +his hand. The other approached him. + +"I don't mean to say anything, Bill, or even to look anything, that'll +do you hurt. I'm for bringing your trouble to a short cut. I've told +you what I think right and reasonable, and for no other man in Kentucky +would I have taken the pains to think out this matter as I have done. +But you or I must lick Stevens." + +"You forget, Ned. Your eagerness carries you astray. Would you beat a +man who offers no resistance?" + +"Surely not." + +"Stevens is a non-combatant. If you were to slap John Cross on one cheek +he'd turn you the other. He'd never strike you back." + +"John Cross and Stevens are two persons. I tell you the stranger WILL +fight. I'm sure of it. I've seen it in his looks and actions." + +"Do you think so?" + +"I do; I'm sure of it. But you must recollect besides, that John +Cross is a preacher, already sworn in, as I may say. Stevens is only a +beginner. Besides, John Cross is an old man; Stevens, a young one. John +Cross don't care a straw about all the pretty girls in the country. He +works in the business of souls, not beauties, and it's very clear that +Stevens not only loves a pretty girl, but that he's over head and heels +in love with your Margaret--" + +"Say no more. If he will fight, Ned Hinkley, he shall fight!" + +"Bravo, Bill--that's all that I was arguing for--that's all that I want. +But you must make at Margaret Cooper also." + +"Ah! Ned, there I confess my fears." + +"Why, what are you afraid of?" + +"Rejection!" + +"Is that worse than this suspense--this anxiety--this looking out from +morning till night for the sunshine, and this constant apprehension +of the clouds--this knowing not what to be about--this sulking--this +sadding--this growling--this grunting--this muling--this moping--this +eternal vinegar-face and ditchwater-spirit?" + +"I don't know, Ned, but I confess my weakness--my want of courage in +this respect!" + +"Psho! the bark's worse always than the bite. The fear worse than the +danger! Suspense is the very d--l! Did you ever hear of the Scotch +parson's charity? He prayed that God might suspend Napoleon over the +very jaws of hell--but 'Oh, Lord!' said he, 'dinna let him fa' in!' To +my mind, mortal lips never uttered a more malignant prayer!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +TRAILING THE FOX. + + + + + +This dialogue was broken by a summons to the breakfast-table. We have +already intimated that while the hateful person of Stevens was an inmate +of his own house, William Hinkley remained, the better portion of his +time, at that of his cousin. It was not merely that Stevens was hateful +to his sight, but such was the devotion of his father and mother to that +adventurer, that the young man passed with little notice from either, +or if he incurred their attention at all, it was only to receive their +rebuke. He had not been able to disguise from them his dislike to +Stevens. This dislike showed itself in many ways--in coldness, distance, +silence--a reluctance to accord the necessary civilities, and in very +unequivocal glances of hostility from the eyes of the jealous young +villager. + +Such offences against good-breeding were considered by them as so many +offences against God himself, shown to one who was about to profess +his ministry; and being prepared to see in Brother Stevens an object of +worth and veneration only, they lacked necessarily all that keenness +of discrimination which might have helped somewhat to qualify the +improprieties of which they believed their son to be guilty. Of his +causes of jealousy they had no suspicion, and they shared none of his +antipathies. He was subject to the daily lecture from the old man, and +the nightly exhortation and expostulation of the old woman. The latter +did her spiriting gently. The former roared and thundered. The mother +implored and kissed--the father denounced and threatened. The one, +amidst the faults of her you which she reproved, could see his virtues; +she could also see that he was suffering--she knew not why--as well as +sinning; the other could only see an insolent, disobedient boy who was +taking airs upon himself, flying in the face of his parents, and doomed +to perish like the sons of Eli, unless by proving himself a better +manager than Eli, he addressed himself in time to the breaking in of +the unruly spirit whose offences promised to be so heinous. It was +not merely from the hateful sight of his rival, or the monotonous +expostulation of his mother, that the poor youth fled; it was sometimes +to escape the heavily chastening hand of his bigoted father. + +These things worked keenly and constantly in the mind of William +Hinkley. They acquired additional powers of ferment from the coldness of +Margaret Cooper, and from the goadings of his cousin. Naturally one of +the gentlest of creatures, the young man was not deficient in spirit. +What seemed to his more rude and elastic relative a token of imbecility, +was nothing more than the softening influence of his reflective and +mental over his physical powers. These, under the excitement of his +blood were necessarily made subject to his animal impulses, and when he +left the house that morning, with his Blackstone under his arm, on +his way to the peaceful cottage of old Calvert, where he pursued his +studies, his mind was in a perfect state of chaos. Of the chapter which +he had striven to compass the previous night, in which the rights of +persons are discussed with the usual clearness of style, but the usual +one-sidedness of judgment of that smooth old monarchist, William Hinkley +scarcely remembered a solitary syllable. He had read only with his eyes. +His mind had kept no pace with his proceedings, and though he strove as +he went along to recall the heads of topics, the points and principles +of what he had been reading, his efforts at reflection, by insensible +but sudden transitions, invariably concluded with some image of strife +and commotion, in which he was one of the parties and Alfred Stevens +another; the beautiful, proud face of Margaret Cooper being always +unaccountably present, and seeming to countenance, with its scornful +smiles, the spirit of strife which operated upon the combatants. + +This mood had the most decided effect upon his appearance; and the +good old man, Calvert, whose attention had been already drawn to the +condition of distress and suffering which he manifested, was now more +than ever struck with the seemingly sudden increase of this expression +upon his face. It was Saturday--the saturnalia of schoolboys--and a day +of rest to the venerable teacher. He was seated before his door, under +the shadows of his paternal oak, once more forgetting the baffled aims +and profitless toils of his own youthful ambition, in the fascinating +pages of that historical romancer the stout Abbe Vertot. But a glance at +the youth soon withdrew his mind from this contemplation, and the sombre +pages of the present opened upon his eye, and the doubtful ones of the +future became, on the instant, those which he most desired to peruse. + +The study of the young is always a study of the past with the old. They +seem, in such a contemplation, to live over the records of memory. They +feel as one just returning from a long and weary journey, who encounters +another, freshly starting to traverse the same weary but inviting track. +Something in the character of William Hinkley, which seemed to resemble +his own, made this feeling yet more active in the mind of Mr. Calvert; +and his earnest desire was to help the youth forward on the path which, +he soon perceived, it was destined that the other should finally take. +He was not satisfied with the indecision of character which the youth +displayed. But how could he blame it harshly? It was in this very +respect that his own character had failed, and though he felt that all +his counsels were to be addressed to this point, yet he knew not where; +or in what manner, to begin. The volume of Blackstone which the youth +carried suggested to him a course, however. He bade the young man bring +out a chair, and taking the book in his hand, he proceeded to examine +him upon parts of the volume which he professed to have been reading. + +This examination, as it had the effect of compelling the mind of the +student to contract itself to a single subject of thought, necessarily +had the further effect of clearing it somewhat from the chaos of clouds +which had been brooding over it, obscuring the light, and defeating +the warmth of the intellectual sun behind them; and if the examination +proved the youth to have been very little of a student, or one who had +been reading with a vacant mind, it also proved that the original powers +of his intellect were vigorous and various--that he had an analytical +capacity of considerable compass; was bold in opinion, ingenious in +solution, and with a tendency to metaphysical speculation, which, +modified by the active wants and duties of a large city-practice, would +have made him a subtle lawyer, and a very logical debater. But the blush +kept heightening on the youth's cheeks as the examination proceeded. He +had answered, but he felt all the while how much his answer had sprung +from his own conjectures and how little from his authorities. The +examination convinced him that the book had been so much waste-paper +under his thumb. When it was ended the old man closed the volume, laid +it on the sward beside him, and looked, with a mingled expression of +interest and commiseration, on his face. William Hinkley noted this +expression, and spoke, with a degree of mortification in look and +accent, which he did not attempt to hide:-- + +"I am afraid, sir, you will make nothing of me. I can make nothing of +myself. I am almost inclined to give up in despair. I will be nothing--I +can be nothing. I feared as much from the beginning, sir. You only waste +your time on me." + +"You speak too fast, William--you let your blood mingle too much with +your thoughts. Let me ask you one question. How long will you be content +to live as you do now--seeking nothing--performing nothing--being +nothing?" + +The youth was silent. + +"I, you see, am nothing," continued the old man--"nay, do not interrupt +me. You will tell me, as you have already told me, that I am much, and +have done much, here in Charlemont. But, for all that I am, and have +done here, I need not have gone beyond my accidence. My time has been +wasted; my labors, considered as means to ends, were unnecessary; I have +toiled without the expected profits of toil; I have drawn water in a +sieve. It is not pleasant for me to recall these things, much less to +speak of them; but it is for your good that I told you my story. You +have, as I had, certain defects of character--not the same exactly, but +of the same family complexion. To be something, you must be resolved. +You must devote yourself, heart and mind, with all your soul and with +all your strength, to the business you have undertaken. Shut your +windows against the sunshine, your ears to the song of birds, your heart +against the fascinations of beauty; and if you never think of the last +until you are thirty, you will be then a better judge of beauty, a truer +lover, a better husband, a more certain candidate for happiness. Let +me assure you that, of the hundred men that take wives before they are +thirty, there is scarcely one who, in his secret soul, does not repent +it--scarcely one who does not look back with yearning to the days when +he was free." + +There was a pause. The young man became very much agitated. He rose from +his chair, walked apart for a few moments, and then, returning, resumed +his seat by the old man. + +"I believe you are right, sir--nay, I know you are; but I can not be +at once--I can not promise--to be all that you wish. If Margaret Cooper +would consent, I would marry her to-morrow." + +The old man shook his head, but remained silent. The young one +proceeded:-- + +"One thing I will say, however: I will take to my studies after this +week, whatever befalls, with the hearty resolution which you recommend. +I will try to shut out the sunshine and the song. I will endeavor to +devote soul and strength, and heart and mind, to the task before me. I +KNOW that I can master these studies--I think I can"--he continued, +more modestly, modifying the positive assertion--"and I know that it is +equally my interest and duty to do so. I thank you sir, very much for +what you have told me. Believe me, it has not fallen upon heedless or +disrespectful ears." + +The old man pressed his hand. + +"I know THAT, my son, and I rejoice to think that, having given me these +assurances, you will strive hard to make them good." + +"I will, sir!" replied William, taking up his cap to depart. + +"But whither are you going now?" + +The youth blushed as he replied frankly:-- + +"To the widow Cooper's. I'm going to see Margaret." + +"Well, well!" said the old man, as the youth disappeared, "if it must be +done, the sooner it's over the better. But there's another moth to the +flame. Fortunately, he will be singed only; but she!--what is left +for her--so proud, yet so confiding--so confident of strength, yet so +artless? But it is useless to look beyond, and very dismal." + +And the speaker once more took up Vertot, and was soon lost amid the +glories of the knights of St. John. His studies were interrupted by the +sudden and boisterous salutation of Ned Hinkley:-- + +"Well, gran'pa, hard at the big book as usual? No end to the fun of +fighting, eh? I confess, if ever I get to love reading, it'll be in some +such book as that. But reading's not natural to me, though you made me +do enough of it while you had me. Bill was the boy for the books, and +I for the hooks. By-the-way, talking of hooks, how did those trout eat? +Fine, eh? I haven't seen you since the day of our ducking." + +"No, Ned, and I've been looking for you. Where have you been?" + +"Working, working! Everything's been going wrong. Lines snapped, +fiddle-strings cracked, hooks missing, gun rusty, and Bill Hinkley so +sulky, that his frown made a shadow on the wall as large and ugly as a +buffalo's. But where is he? I came to find him here." + +While he was speaking, the lively youth squatted down, and deliberately +took his seat on the favorite volume which Mr. Calvert had laid upon the +sward at his approach. + +"Take the chair, Ned," said the old man, with a smaller degree of +kindness in his tone than was habitual with him. "Take the chair. +Books are sacred things--to be worshipped and studied, not employed as +footstools." + +"Why, what's the hurt, gran'pa?" demanded the young man, though he rose +and did as he was bidden. "If 'twas a fiddle, now, there would be some +danger of a crash, but a big book like that seems naturally made to sit +upon." + +The old man answered him mildly:-- + +"I have learned to venerate books, Ned, and can no more bear to see +them abused than I could bear to be abused myself. It seems to me like +treating their writers and their subjects with scorn. If you were to +contemplate the venerable heads of the old knights with my eyes and +feelings, you would see why I wish to guard them from everything like +disrespect." + +"Well, I beg their pardon--a thousand pardons! I meant no offence, +gran'pa--and can't help thinking that it's all a notion of yours, your +reverencing such old Turks and Spaniards that have been dead a thousand +years. They were very good people, no doubt, but I'm thinking they've +served their turn; and I see no more harm in squatting upon their +histories than in walking over their graves, which, if I were in their +country of Jericho--that was where they lived, gran'pa, wa'n't it?--I +should be very apt to do without asking leave, I tell you." + +Ned Hinkley purposely perverted his geography and history. There was a +spice of mischief in his composition, and he grinned good-naturedly as +he watched the increasing gravity upon the old man's face. + +"Come, come, gran'pa, don't be angry. You know my fun is a sort of +fizz--there's nothing but a flash--nothing to hurt--no shotting. But +where's Bill Hinkley, gran'pa?" + +"Gone to the widow Cooper's, to see Margaret." + +"Ah! well, I'm glad he's made a beginning. But I'd much rather he'd have +seen the other first." + +"What other do you mean?" demanded the old man; but the speaker, though +sufficiently random and reckless in what he said, saw the impolicy +of allowing the purpose of his cousin in regard to Stevens to be +understood. He contrived to throw the inquirer off. + +"Gran'pa, do you know there's something in this fellow Stevens that +don't altogether please me? I'm not satisfied with him." + +"Ah, indeed! what do you see to find fault with?" + +"Well, you see, he comes here pretending to study. Now, in the first +place, why should he come here to study? why didn't he stay at home with +his friends and parents?" + +"Perhaps he had neither. Perhaps he had no home. You might as well ask +me why I came here, and settled down, where I was not born--where I had +neither friends nor parents." + +"Oh, no, but you told us why," said the other. "You gave us a reason for +what you did." + +"And why may not the stranger give a reason too?" + +"He don't, though." + +"Perhaps he will when you get intimate with him. I see nothing in +this to be dissatisfied with. I had not thought you so suspicious, Ned +Hinkley--so little charitable." + +"Charity begins at home, gran'pa. But there's more in this matter. +This man comes here to study to be a parson. How does he study? Can you +guess?" + +"I really can not." + +"By dressing spruce as a buck--curling his hair backward over his ears +something like a girl's, and going out, morning, noon, and night, to see +Margaret Cooper." + +"As there is no good reason to suppose that a student of divinity +is entirely without the affections of humanity, I still see nothing +inconsistent with his profession in this conduct." + +"But how can he study?" + +"Ah! it may be inconsistent with his studies though not with his +profession. It is human without being altogether proper. You see that +your cousin neglects his studies in the same manner. I presume that the +stranger also loves Miss Cooper." + +"But he has no such right as Bill Hinkley." + +"Why not?" + +"Why not? Why, Bill is a native here, has been loving her for the last +year or more. His right certainly ought to be much greater than that of +a man whom nobody knows--who may be the man in the moon for anything we +know to the contrary--just dropped in upon us, nobody knows how, to do +nobody knows what." + +"All that may be very true, Ned, and yet his right to seek Miss Cooper +may be just as good as that of yourself or mine. You forget that it all +depends upon the young lady herself whether either of them is to have a +right at all in her concerns." + +"Well, that's a subject we needn't dispute about, gran'pa, when there's +other things. Now, isn't it strange that this stranger should ride off +once a week with his valise on his saddle, just as if he was starting on +a journey--should be gone half a day--then come back with his nag all +in a foam, and after that you should see him in some new cravat, or +waistcoat, or pantaloons, just as if he had gone home and got a change?" + +"And does he do that?" inquired Mr. Calvert, with some show of +curiosity. + +"That he does, and he always takes the same direction; and it seems--so +Aunt Sarah herself says, though she thinks him a small sort of divinity +on earth--that the day before, he's busy writing letters, and, according +to her account, pretty long letters too. Well, nobody sees that he ever +gets any letters in return. He never asks at the post-office, so Jacob +Zandts himself tells me, and that's strange enough, too, if so be he has +any friends or relations anywhere else." + +Mr. Calvert listened with interest to these and other particulars which +his young companion had gathered respecting the habits of the stranger; +and he concurred with his informant in the opinion that there was +something in his proceedings which was curious and perhaps mysterious. +Still, he did not think it advisable to encourage the prying and +suspicious disposition of the youth, and spoke to this effect in the +reply which finally dismissed the subject. Ned Hinkley was silenced not +satisfied. + +"There's something wrong about it," he muttered to himself on leaving +the old man, "and, by dickens! I'll get to the bottom of it, or there's +no taste in Salt-river. The fellow's a rascal; I feel it if I don't know +it, and if Bill Hinkley don't pay him off, I must. One or t'other must +do it, that's certain." + +With these reflections, which seemed to him to be no less moral than +social, the young man took his way back to the village, laboring with +all the incoherence of unaccustomed thought, to strike out some process +by which to find a solution for those mysteries which were supposed to +characterize the conduct of the stranger. He had just turned out of +the gorge leading from Calvert's house into the settlement, when he +encountered the person to whom his meditations were given, on horseback; +and going at a moderate gallop along the high-road to the country. +Stevens bowed to him and drew up for speech as he drew nigh. At first +Ned Hinkley appeared disposed to avoid him, but moved by a sudden +notion, he stopped and suffered himself to speak with something more of +civility than he had hitherto shown to the same suspected personage. + +"Why, you're not going to travel, Parson Stevens," said he--"you're not +going to leave us, are you?" + +"No, sir--I only wish to give myself and horse a stretch of a few miles +for the sake of health. Too much stable, they say, makes a saucy nag." + +"So it does, and I may say, a saucy man too. But seeing you with your +valise, I thought you were off for good." + +Stevens said something about his being so accustomed to ride with the +valise that he carried it without thinking. + +"I scarcely knew I had it on!" + +"That's a lie all round," said Ned Hinkley to himself as the other rode +off. "Now, if I was mounted, I'd ride after him and see where he goes +and what he's after. What's to hinder? It's but a step to the stable, +and but five minutes to the saddle. Dang it, but I'll take trail this +time if I never did before." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE DOOM. + + + + + +With this determination our suspicious youth made rapid progress in +getting out his horse. A few minutes saw him mounted, and putting +some of his resolution into his heels, he sent the animal forward at a +killing start, under the keen infliction of the spur. He had marked with +his eye the general course which Stevens had taken up the hills, and +having a nag of equal speed and bottom, did not scruple, in the great +desire which he felt, to ascertain the secret of the stranger, to make +him display the qualities of both from the very jump. Stevens had been +riding with a free rein, but in consequence of these energetic measures +on the part of Hinkley, the latter soon succeeded in overhauling him. +Still he had already gone a space of five miles, and this, too, in +one direction. He looked back when he found himself pursued, and his +countenance very clearly expressed the chagrin which he felt. This +he strove, but with very indifferent success, to hide from the keen +searching eyes of his pursuer. He drew up to wait his coming, and there +was a dash of bitterness in his tones as he expressed his "gratification +at finding a companion where he least expected one." + +"And perhaps, parson, when you didn't altogether wish for one," was the +reply of the reckless fellow. "The truth is, I know I'm not the sort of +company that a wise, sensible, learned, and pious young gentleman would +like to keep, out the truth is what you said about taking a stretch, man +and beast, seemed to me to be just about as wise a thing for me and +my beast also. We've been lying by so long that I was getting a little +stiff in my joints, and Flipflap, my nag here, was getting stiff in his +neck, as they say was the case with the Jews in old times, so I took +your idea and put after you, thinking that you'd agree with me that bad +company's far better than none." + +There was a mixture of simplicity and archness in the manner of the +speaker that put Stevens somewhat at fault; but he saw that it wouldn't +do to show the dudgeon which he really felt; and smoothing his quills +with as little obvious effort as possible, he expressed his pleasure at +the coming of his companion. While doing so, he wheeled his horse about, +and signified a determination to return. + +"What! so soon? Why, Lord bless you, Flipflap has scarcely got in motion +yet. If such a stir will do for your nag 'twont do for him." + +But Stevens doggedly kept his horse's head along the back track, though +the animal himself exhibited no small restlessness and a disposition to +go forward. + +"Well, really, Parson Stevens, I take it as unkind that you turn back +almost the very moment I join you. I seem to have scared ride out of you +if not out of your creature; but do as you please. I'll ride on, now I'm +out. I don't want to force myself on any man for company." + +Stevens disclaimed any feeling of this sort, but declared he had ridden +quite as far as he intended; and while he hesitated, Hinkley cut the +matter short by putting spurs to his steed, and going out of sight in a +moment. + +"What can the cur mean?" demanded Stevens of himself, the moment after +they had separated. "Can he have any suspicions? Ha! I must be watchful! +At all events, there's no going forward to-day. I must put it off for +next week; and meanwhile have all my eyes about me. The fellow seems to +have as much cunning as simplicity. He is disposed too, to be insolent +I marked his manner at the lake, as well as that of his bull-headed +cousin; but that sousing put anger out of me, and then, again, 'twill +scarcely do in these good days for such holy men as myself to take up +cudgels. I must bear it for awhile as quietly as possible. It will not +be long. She at least is suspicionless. Never did creature so +happily delude herself. Yet what a judgment in some things! What keen +discrimination! What a wild, governless imagination! She would be a +prize, if it were only to exhibit. How she would startle the dull, +insipid, tea-table simperers on our Helicon--nay, with what scorn she +would traverse the Helicon itself. The devil is that she would have a +will in spite of her keeper. Such an animal is never tamed. There could +be no prescribing to her the time when she should roar--no teaching her +to fawn and fondle, and not to rend. Soul, and eye, and tongue, would +speak under the one impulse, in the exciting moment; and when Mrs. +Singalongohnay was squeaking out her eternal requiems--her new versions +of the Psalms and Scriptures--her blank verse elegiacs--oh! how +blank!--beginning, 'Night was upon the hills,'--or 'The evening veil +hung low,' or, 'It slept,'--or after some other equally threatening form +and fashion--I can fancy how the bright eye of Margaret would gleam with +scorn; and while the Pollies and Dollies, the Patties and Jennies, the +Corydons and Jemmy Jesamies, all round were throwing up hands and eyes +in a sort of rapture, how she would look, with what equal surprise and +contempt, doubting her own ears, and sickening at the stuff and the +strange sycophancy which induced it. And should good old Singalongohnay, +with a natural and patronizing visage, approach, and venture to talk to +her about poetry, with that assured smile of self-excellence which such +a venerable authority naturally employs, how she would turn upon the +dame and exclaim--'What! do you call that poetry?' What a concussion +would follow. How the simperers would sheer off; the tea that night +might as well be made of aqua-fortis. Ha! ha! I can fancy the scene +before me. Nothing could be more rich. I must give her a glimpse of such +a scene. It will be a very good mode of operation. Her pride and vanity +will do the rest. I have only to intimate the future sway--the exclusive +sovereignty which would follow--the overthrow of the ancient idols, and +the setting up of a true divinity in herself. But shall it be so, Master +Stevens? Verily, that will be seen hereafter. Enough, if the delusion +takes. If I can delude the woman through the muse, I am satisfied. The +muse after that may dispose of the woman as she pleases." + +Such was a portion of the soliloquy of the libertine as he rode slowly +back to Charlemont. His further musings we need not pursue at present. +It is enough to say that they were of the same family character. He +returned to his room as soon as he reached his lodging-house, and +drawing from his pocket a bundle of letters which he had intended +putting in the postoffice at Ellisland, he carefully locked them up in +his portable writing-desk which he kept at the bottom of his valise. +When the devout Mrs. Hinkley tapped at his door to summon him to dinner, +the meritorious young man was to be seen, seated at his table, with the +massive Bible of the family conspicuously open before him. Good young +man! never did he invoke a blessing on the meats with more holy unction +than on that very day. + +Meanwhile, let us resume our progress with William Hinkley, and inquire +in what manner his wooing sped with the woman whom he so unwisely loved. +We have seen him leaving the cottage of Mr. Calvert with the avowed +purpose of seeking a final answer. A purpose from which the old man did +not seek to dissuade him, though he readily conceived its fruitlessness. +It was with no composed spirit that the young rustic felt himself +approaching the house of Mrs. Cooper. More than once he hesitated +and even halted. But a feeling of shame, and the efforts of returning +manliness re-resolved him, and he hurried with an unwonted rapidity of +movement toward the dwelling, as if he distrusted his own power, unless +he did so, to conclude the labor he had begun. + +He gathered some courage when he found that Margaret was from home. She +had gone on her usual rambles. Mrs. Cooper pointed out the course which +she had taken, and the young man set off in pursuit. The walks of the +maiden were of course well known to a lover so devoted. He had sought +and followed her a thousand times, and the general direction which she +had gone, once known, his progress was as direct as his discoveries were +certain. The heart of the youth, dilated with better hopes as he felt +himself traversing the old familiar paths. It seemed to him that the +fates could scarcely be adverse in a region which had always been so +friendly. Often had he escorted her along this very route, when their +spirits better harmonized--when, more of the girl struggling into +womanhood, the mind of Margaret Cooper, ignorant of its own resources +and unconscious of its maturer desires, was more gentle, and could +rejoice in that companionship for which she now betrayed so little +desire. The sheltered paths and well-known trees, even the little +clumps of shrubbery that filled up the intervals, were too pleasant and +familiar to his eye not to seem favorable to his progress, and with a +hope that had no foundation, save in the warm and descriptive colors of +a young heart's fancy, William Hinkley pursued the route which led him +to one of the most lovely and love-haunted glades in all Kentucky. + +So sweet a hush never hallowed the sabbath rest of any forest. The very +murmur of a drowsy zephyr among the leaves was of slumberous tendency; +and silence prevailed, with the least possible exertion of her +authority, over the long narrow dell through which the maiden had gone +wandering. At the foot of a long slope, to which his eye was conducted +by a natural and lovely vista, the youth beheld the object of his +search, sitting, motionless, with her back toward him. The reach of +light was bounded by her figure which was seated on the decaying trunk +of a fallen tree. She was deeply wrapped in thought, for she did not +observe his approach, and when his voice reached her ears, and she +started and looked round, her eyes were full of tears. These she hastily +brushed away, and met the young man with a degree of composure which +well might have put the blush upon his cheek, for the want of it. + +"In tears!--weeping, Margaret?" was the first address of the lover who +necessarily felt shocked at what he saw. + +"They were secret tears, sir--not meant for other eyes," was the +reproachful reply. + +"Ah, Margaret! but why should you have secret tears, when you might have +sympathy--why should you have tears at all? You have no sorrows." + +"Sympathy!" was the exclamation of the maiden, while a scornful smile +gleamed from her eyes; "whose sympathy, I pray?" + +The young man hesitated to answer. The expression of her eye discouraged +him. He dreaded lest, in offering his sympathies, he should extort from +her lips a more direct intimation of that scorn which he feared. He +chose a middle course. + +"But that you should have sorrows, Margaret, seems very strange to me. +You are young and hearty; endowed beyond most of your sex, and with +a beauty which can not be too much admired. Your mother is hearty and +happy, and for years you have had no loss of relations to deplore. I see +not why you should have sorrows." + +"It is very likely, William Hinkley, that you do not see. The ordinary +sorrows of mankind arise from the loss of wives and cattle, children and +property. There are sorrows of another kind; sorrows of the soul; the +consciousness of denial; of strife--strife to be continued--strife +without victory--baffled hopes--defeated aims and energies. These are +sorrows which are not often computed in the general account. It is +highly probable that none of them afflict you. You have your parents, +and very good people they are. You yourself are no doubt a very good +young man--so everybody says--and you have health and strength. +Besides, you have property, much more, I am told, than falls to the lot +ordinarily of young people in this country. These are reasons why you +should not feel any sorrow; but were all these mine and a great deal +more, I'm afraid it would not make me any more contented. You, perhaps, +will not understand this, William Hinkley, but I assure you that such, +nevertheless is my perfect conviction." + +"Yes, I can, and do understand it, Margaret," said the young man, with +flushed cheek and a very tremulous voice, as he listened to language +which, though not intended to be contemptuous, was yet distinctly +colored by that scornful estimate which the maiden had long since made +of the young man's abilities. In this respect she had done injustice to +his mind, which had been kept in subjection and deprived of its ordinary +strength and courage, by the enfeebling fondness of his heart. + +"Yes, Margaret," he continued, "I can and do understand it, and I too +have my sorrows of this very sort. Do not smile, Margaret, but hear me +patiently, and believe, that, whatever may be the error which I commit, +I have no purpose to offend you in what I say or do. Perhaps, we are +both of us quite too young to speak of the sorrows which arise from +defeated hopes, or baffled energies, or denial of our rights and claims. +The yearnings and apprehensions which we are apt to feel of this sort +are not to be counted as sorrows, or confounded with them. I had a +conversation on this very subject only a few days ago, with old Mr. +Calvert, and this was his very opinion." + +The frankness with which William Hinkley declared the source of his +opinions, though creditable to his sincerity, was scarcely politic--it +served to confirm Margaret Cooper in the humble estimate which she had +formed of the speaker. + +"Mr. Calvert," said she, "is a very sensible old man, but neither he +nor you can enter into the heart of another and say what shall, or what +shall not be its source of trouble. It is enough, William Hinkley, that +I have my cares--at least I fancy that I have them--and though I am +very grateful for your sympathies, I do not know that they can do me any +good, and, though I thank you, I must yet decline them." + +"Oh, do not say so, Margaret--dear Margaret--it is to proffer them that +I seek you now. You know how long I have sought you, and loved you: you +can not know how dear you are to my eyes, how necessary to my happiness! +Do not repulse me--do not speak quickly. What I am, and what I have, is +yours. We have grown up together; I have known no other hope, no other +love, but that for you. Look not upon me with that scornful glance--hear +me--I implore you--on my knee, dear Margaret. I implore you as for +life--for something more dear than life--that which will make life +precious--which may make it valuable. Be mine, dear Margaret--" + +"Rise, William Hinkley, and do not forget yourself!" was the stern, +almost deliberate answer of the maiden. + +"Do not, I pray you, do not speak in those tones, dear Margaret--do not +look on me with those eyes. Remember before you speak, that the dearest +hope of a devoted heart hangs upon your lips." + +"And what have you seen in me, or what does your vain conceit behold in +yourself, William Hinkley, to make you entertain a hope?" + +"The meanest creature has it." + +"Aye, but only of creatures like itself." + +"Margaret!" exclaimed the lover starting to his feet. + +"Ay, sir, I say it. If the meanest creature has its hope, it relates to +a creature like itself--endowed with its own nature and fed with like +sympathies. But you--what should make you hope of me? Have I not long +avoided you, discouraged you? I would have spared you the pain of this +moment by escaping it myself. You haunt my steps--you pursue me--you +annoy me with attentions which I dare not receive for fear of +encouraging you, and in spite of all this, which everybody in the +village must have seen but yourself, you still press yourself upon me." + +"Margaret Cooper, be not so proud!" + +"I am what I am! I know that I am proud--vain, perhaps, and having +little to justify either pride or vanity; but to you, William Hinkley, +as an act of justice, I must speak what I feel--what is the truth. I am +sorry, from my very soul, that you love me, for I can have no feeling +for you in return. I do not dislike you, but you have so oppressed me +that I would prefer not to see you. We have no feelings in common. You +can give me no sympathies. My soul, my heart, my hope--every desire of +my mind, every impulse of my heart, leads me away from you--from +all that you can give--from all that you can relish. To you it would +suffice, if all your life could be spent here in Charlemont--to me it +would be death to think that any such doom hung over me. From this one +sentiment judge of the rest, and know, for good and all, that I can +never feel for you other than I feel now. I can not love you, nor can +the knowledge that you love me, give me any but a feeling of pain and +mortification." + +William Hinkley had risen to his feet. His form had put on an unusual +erectness. His eye had gradually become composed; and now it wore an +expression of firmness almost amounting to defiance. He heard her with +only an occasional quiver of the muscles about his mouth. The flush of +shame and pride was still red upon his cheek When she had finished, +he spoke to her in tones of more dignity than had hitherto marked his +speech. + +"Margaret Cooper, you have at least chosen the plainest language to +declare a cruel truth." + +The cheek of the girl became suddenly flushed. + +"Do you suppose," she said, "that I found pleasure in giving you pain? +No! William Hinkley, I am sorry for you! But this truth, which you call +cruel, was shown to you repeatedly before. Any man but yourself would +have seen it, and saved me the pain of its frequent repetition. You +alone refused to understand, until it was rendered cruel. It was only by +the plainest language that you could be made to believe a truth that you +either would not or could not otherwise be persuaded to hear. If cold +looks, reserved answers, and a determined rejection of all familiarity +could have availed, you would never have heard from my lips a solitary +word which could have brought you mortification. You would have seen my +feelings in my conduct, and would have spared your own that pain, which +I religiously strove to save them." + +"I have, indeed, been blind and deaf," said the young man; "but you have +opened my eyes and ears, Margaret, so that I am fully cured of these +infirmities. If your purpose, in this plain mode of speech, be such as +you have declared it, then I must thank you; though it is very much as +one would thank the dagger that puts him out of his pain by putting him +out of life." + +There was so much of subdued feeling in this address--the more intense +in its effect, from the obvious restraint put upon it, that the heart of +the maiden was touched. The dignified bearing of the young man, also--so +different from that which marked his deportment hitherto--was not +without its effect. + +"I assure you, William Hinkley, that such alone was my motive for what +else would seem a most wanton harshness. I would not be harsh to you or +to anybody; and with my firm rejection of your proffer, I give you my +regrets that you ever made it. It gives me no pleasure that you should +make it. If I am vain, my vanity is not flattered or quickened by a +tribute which I can not accept; and if you never had my sympathy before, +William Hinkley, I freely give it now. Once more I tell you, I am sorry, +from the bottom of my heart, that you ever felt for me a passion which I +can not requite, and that you did not stifle it from the beginning; as, +Heaven knows, my bearing toward you, for a whole year, seemed to me to +convey sufficient warning." + +"It should have done so! I can now very easily understand it, Margaret. +Indeed, Mr. Calvert and others told me the same thing. But as I have +said, I was blind and deaf. Once more, I thank you, Margaret--it is a +bitter medicine which you have given me, but I trust a wholesome one." + +He caught her hand and pressed it in his own. She did not resist or +withdraw it, and, after the retention of an instant only, he released +it, and was about to turn away. A big tear was gathering in his eye, +and he strove to conceal it. Margaret averted her head, and was about to +move forward in an opposite direction, when the voice of the young man +arrested her:-- + +"Stay, but a few moments more, Margaret. Perhaps we shall never meet +again--certainly not in a conference like this. I may have no other +opportunity to say that which, in justice to you, should be spoken. Will +you listen to me, patiently?" + +"Speak boldly, William Hinkley. It was the subject of which you spoke +heretofore which I shrunk from rather than the speaker." + +"I know not," said he, "whether the subject of which I propose to speak +now will be any more agreeable than that of which we have spoken. At +all events, my purpose is your good, and I shall speak unreservedly. You +have refused the prayer of one heart, Margaret, which, if unworthy of +yours, was yet honestly and fervently devoted to it. Let me warn you to +look well when you do choose, lest you fall into the snares of one, +who with more talent may be less devoted, and with more claims to +admiration, may be far less honest in his purpose." + +"What mean you, sir?" she demanded hurriedly, with an increasing glow +upon her face. + +"This stranger--this man, Stevens!" + +"What of him? What do you know of the stranger that you should give me +this warning?" + +"What does anybody know of him? Whence does he come--whither would he +go? What brings him here to this lonely village?--" + +A proud smile which curled the lips of Margaret Cooper arrested the +speech of the youth. It seemed to say, very distinctly, that she, at +least, could very well conjecture what brought the stranger so far from +the travelled haunts. + +"Ha! do you then know, Margaret?" + +"And if I did not, William Hinkley, these base insinuations against +the man, of whom, knowing nothing, you would still convey the worst +imputations, would never move my mind a hair's breadth from its proper +balance. Go, sir--you have your answer. I need not your counsel. I +should be sorry to receive it from such a source. Failing in your own +attempt, you would seek to fill my mind with calumnious impressions +in order to prejudice the prospects of another. For shame! for shame, +William Hinkley. I had not thought this of you. But go! go! go, at once, +lest I learn to loathe as well as despise you. I thought you simple and +foolish, but honorable and generous. I was mistaken even in this. Go, +sir, your slanderous insinuations have no effect upon me, and as +for Alfred Stevens, you are as far below him in nobleness and honest +purpose, as you are in every quality of taste and intellect." + +Her face was the very breathing image of idealized scorn and beauty as +she uttered these stinging words. Her nostrils were dilated, her eyes +flashing fire, her lips slightly protruded and parted, her hand waving +him off. The young man gazed upon her with wild looks equally expressive +of anger and agony. His form fairly writhed beneath his emotions; but he +found strength enough gaspingly to exclaim:-- + +"And even this I forgive you, Margaret." + +"Go! go!" she answered; "you know not what you say, or what you are. Go! +go!" + +And turning away, she moved slowly up the long avenue before her, till, +by a sudden turn of the path she was hidden from the sight. Then, when +his eye could no longer follow her form, the agony of his soul burst +forth in a single groan, and staggering, he fell forward upon the sward, +hopeless, reckless, in a wretched condition of self-abandonment and +despair. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +BLOWS--A CRISIS. + + + + + +But this mood lasted not long. Youth, pride, anger, asserted themselves +before the lapse of many minutes. Darker feelings got possession of his +mind. He rose to his feet. If love was baffled, was there not revenge? +Then came the recollection of his cousin's counsel. Should this artful +stranger triumph in everything? Margaret Cooper had scarcely disguised +the interest which she felt in him. Nay, had not that exulting glance +of the eye declared that she, at least, knew what was the purpose +of Stevens in seeking the secluded village? His own wrongs were +also present to his mind. This usurper had possessed himself of the +affections of all he loved--of all of whose love he had till then +felt himself secure--all but the good old schoolmaster, and the sturdy +schoolmate and cousin. And how soon might he deprive him even of these? +That was a new fear! So rapid had been the stranger's progress--so +adroitly had he insinuated himself into this Eden of the +wilderness--bringing discontent and suffering in his train--that the +now thoroughly-miserable youth began to fancy that nothing could be safe +from his influence. In a short time his garden would all be overrun, and +his loveliest plants would wither. + +Was there no remedy for this? There was! and traversing the solemn +recesses of that wood, he meditated the various modes by which the +redress of wrong, and slight and indignity, were to be sought. He +brooded over images of strife, and dark and savage ideas of power +rioting over its victim, with entirely new feelings--feelings new at +least to him. We have not succeeded in doing him justice, nor in our own +design, if we have failed to show that he was naturally gentle of +heart, rigidly conscientious, a lover of justice for its own sake, and +solicitously sensitive on the subject of another's feelings. But the +sense of suffering will blind the best judgment, and the feeling of +injury will arouse and irritate the gentlest nature. Besides, William +Hinkley, though meek and conscientious, had not passed through his +youth, in the beautiful but wild border country in which he lived, +without having been informed, and somewhat influenced, by those +characteristic ideas of the modes and manner in which personal wrongs +were to be redressed. + +Perhaps, had his cousin said nothing to him on this subject, his +feelings would have had very much the same tendency and general +direction which they were taking now. A dark and somewhat pleasurable +anxiety to be in conflict with his rival--a deadly conflict--a close, +hard death-struggle--was now the predominant feeling in his mind;--but +the feeling was not ALTOGETHER a pleasurable one. It had its pains and +humiliations, also. Not that he had any fears--any dread of the issue. +Of the issue he never thought. But it disturbed the long and peaceful +order of his life. It conflicted with the subdued tastes of the student. +It was at war with that gentle calm of atmosphere, which letters diffuse +around the bower of the muse. + +In the conflict of his thoughts and feelings, the judgment of the youth +was impaired. He forgot his prudence. In fact, he knew not what he did. +He entered the dwelling of his father, and passed into the dining-room, +at that solemn moment when the grace before meat was yet in course of +utterance by our worthy Brother Stevens. Hitherto, old Mr. Hinkley had +religiously exacted that, whenever any of the household failed to be +present in season, this ceremony should never be disturbed. They were +required, hat in hand, to remain at the entrance, until the benediction +had been implored; and, only after the audible utterance of the word +"Amen," to approach the cloth. + +We have shown little of old Hinkley. It has not been necessary. The +reader has seen enough, however, to understand that, in religious +matters--at least in the forms and externals of religion--he was a rigid +disciplinarian. Upon grace before and after meat he always insisted. His +own prayers of this sort might have been unctuous, but they were never +short; and the meats were very apt to grow cold, while the impatience +of his hearers grew warm, before he finished. But through respect to the +profession, he waived his own peculiar privilege in behalf of Brother +Stevens; and this holy brother was in the middle of his entreaty, when +William Hinkley appeared at the door. He paused for an instant without +taking off his hat. Perhaps had his father been engaged in his office, +William would have forborne, as usual, however long the grace, and have +patiently waited without, hat off, until it had reached the legitimate +conclusion. But he had no such veneration for Stevens; and without +scruple he dashed, rather hastily, into the apartment, and flinging his +hat upon a chair, strode at once to the table. + +The old man did not once raise his eyes until the prayer was over. He +would not have done so had the house been on fire. But at the close, he +looked up at his son with a brow of thunder. The cloud was of serious +and very unusual blackness. He had for some time been dissatisfied with +his son. He had seen that the youth entertained some aversion for his +guest. Besides, he had learned from his worthy consort, that, in an +endeavor of Brother Stevens to bestow good counsel upon the youth, he +had been repulsed with as little respect as ceremony. There was one +thing that the stern old man had not seen, and could not see; and that +was the altered appearance of the lad. As he knew of no reason why he +should be unhappy, so he failed to perceive in his appearance any of the +signs of unhappiness. He saw nothing but the violation of his laws, and +that sort of self-esteem which produces fanaticism, is always the most +rigid in the enforcement of its own ordinances. Already he regarded the +youth as in a state of rebellion and for such an offence his feeling was +very much that of the ancient puritan. No one more insists upon duty, +than he who has attained authority by flinging off the fetters of +obedience. Your toughest sinner usually makes the sourest saint. + +"And is this the way, William Hinkley, that you show respect to God? Do +you despise the blessing which Brother Stevens asks upon the food which +sustains us?" + +"I presume, sir, that God has already blessed all the food which he +bestows upon man. I do not think that any prayer of Brother Stevens can +render it more blessed." + +"Ha! you do not, do you? Please to rise from this table." + +"Nay, sir--" began Stevens. + +"Rise, sir," continued the old man, laying down knife and fork, and +confronting the offender with that dogged look of determination which in +a coarse nature is the sure sign of moral inflexibility. + +"Forgive him, sir, this time," said Stevens; "I entreat you to forgive +him. The young man knows not what he does." + +"I will make him know," continued the other. + +"Plead not for me, sir," said William Hinkley, glaring upon Stevens +with something of that expression which in western parlance is called +wolfish, "I scorn and spurn your interference." + +"William, William, my dear son, do not speak so--do not make your father +angry." + +"Will you leave the table, sir, or not?" demanded the father, his words +being spoken very slowly, through his teeth, and with the effort of one +who seeks to conceal the growing agitation. The eyes of the mother fell +upon the youth full of tears and entreaty. His fine countenance betrayed +the conflicting emotions of his soul. There was grief, and anger, +despair and defiance; the consciousness of being wrong, and the more +painful consciousness of suffering wrong. He half started from his +chair, again resumed it, and gazing upon Stevens with the hate and agony +which he felt, seemed to be entirely forgetful of the words and presence +of the father. The old man deliberately rose from the table and left the +room. The mother now started up in an agony of fear. + +"Run, my son--leave the room before your father comes back. Speak to +him, Brother Stevens, and tell him of the danger." + +"Do not call upon him, mother, if you would not have me defy you also. +If YOUR words will not avail with me, be sure that his can not." + +"What mean you, my son? You surely have no cause to be angry with +Brother Stevens." + +"No cause! no cause!--but it matters not! BROTHER Stevens knows that I +have cause. He has heard my defiance--he knows my scorn and hate, and he +shall feel them!" + +"William, my son, how--" + +The steps of the father, approaching through the passageway, diverted +her mind to a new terror. She knew the vindictive and harsh nature of +the old man; and apprehensions for her son superseded the feeling of +anger which his language had provoked. + +"Oh, my son, be submissive, or fly. Jump out of the window, and leave +Brother Stevens and me to pacify him. We will do all we can." + +The unlucky allusion to Brother Stevens only increased the young man's +obstinacy. + +"I ask you not, mother. I wish you to do nothing, and to say nothing. +Here I will remain. I will not fly. It will be for my father and mother +to say whether they will expel their only son from their home, to make +room for a stranger." + +"It shall not be said that I have been the cause of this," said Stevens, +rising with dignity from his chair; "I will leave your house, Mrs. +Hinkley, only regretting that I should be the innocent cause of any +misunderstanding or discontent among its members. I know not exactly +what can be the meaning of your son's conduct. I have never offended +him; but, as my presence does offend him, I will withdraw myself--" + +"You shall not!" exclaimed old Hinkley, who re-entered the room at this +moment, and had heard the last words of the speaker. "You shall not +leave the house. Had I fifty sons, and they were all to behave in the +manner of this viper, they should all leave it before you should stir +from the threshold." + +The old man brought with him a cowskin; and the maternal apprehensions +of his wife, who knew his severe and determined disposition, were now +awakened to such a degree as to overcome the feeling of deference, if +not fear, with which the authority of her liege lord had always inspired +her. + +"Mr. Hinkley, you won't strike William with that whip--you must not--you +shall not!" and, speaking thus, she started up and threw herself in the +old man's way. He put her aside with no measured movement of his arm, +and approached the side of the table where the young man sat. + +"Run, William, run, if you love me!" cried the terrified mother. + +"I will not run!" was the answer of the youth, who rose from his seat, +however, at the same moment and confronted his father. + +"Do not strike me, father! I warn you--do not strike me. I may be wrong, +but I have suffered wrong. I did not mean, and do not mean, to offend +you. Let that content you, but do not strike me." + +The answer was a blow. The whip descended once, and but once, upon the +shoulders of the young man. His whole frame was in a convulsion. +His eyes dilated with the anguish of his soul; his features worked +spasmodically. There was a moment's hesitation. The arm that smote him +was again uplifted--the cruel and degrading instrument of punishment a +second time about to descend; when, with the strength of youth, and the +determination of manhood, the son grasped the arm of the father, and +without any more than the degree of violence necessary to effect his +object, he tore the weapon from the uplifted hand. + +"I can not strike YOU.'" he exclaimed, addressing the old man. "That +blow has lost you your son--for ever! The shame and the dishonor shall +rest on other shoulders. They are better deserved here, and here I place +them!" + +With these words, he smote Stevens over the shoulders, once, twice, +thrice, before the latter could close with him, or the father interfere +to arrest the attempt. Stevens sprang upon him, but the more athletic +countryman flung him off, and still maintained his weapon. The father +added his efforts to those of Stevens; but he shook himself free from +both, and, by this time, the mother had contrived to place herself +between the parties. William Hinkley then flung the whip from the +window, and moved toward the door. In passing Stevens, he muttered a few +words:-- + +"If there is any skin beneath the cloak of the parson, I trust I have +reached it." + +"Enough!" said the other, in the same low tone. "You shall have your +wish." + +The youth looked back once, with tearful eyes, upon his mother; and +making no other answer but a glance more full of sorrow than anger to +the furious flood of denunciation which the old man continued to pour +forth, he proceeded slowly from the apartment and the dwelling. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +CHALLENGE. + + + + + +The whole scene passed in very few minutes. No time was given for +reflection, and each of the parties obeyed his natural or habitual +impulses. Old Hinkley, except when at prayers, was a man of few words. +He was much more prompt at deeds than words--a proof of which has +already been shown; but the good mother was not so patient, and made a +freer use of the feminine weapon than we have been willing to inflict +upon our readers. Though she heartily disapproved of her son's conduct +toward Stevens, and regarded it as one of the most unaccountable +wonders, the offender was still her son. She never once forgot, or +could forget, that. But the rage of the old man was unappeasable. The +indignity to his guest, and that guest of a calling so sacred, was past +all forgiveness, as it was past all his powers of language fitly to +describe. He swore to pursue the offender with his wrath to the end of +the world, to cut him off equally from his fortune and forgiveness; and +when Brother Stevens, endeavoring to maintain the pacific and forgiving +character which his profession required, uttered some commonplace +pleading in the youth's behalf, he silenced him by saying that, "were he +on the bed of death, and were the offender then to present himself, +the last prayer that he should make to Heaven would be for sufficient +strength to rise up and complete the punishment which he had then +begun." + +As for Stevens, though he professed a more charitable spirit, his +feelings were quite as hostile, and much more deadly. He was not without +that conventional courage which makes one, in certain states of society, +prompt enough to place himself in the fields of the duello. To this +condition of preparedness it has hitherto been the training of the West +that every man, at all solicitous of public life, must eventually come. +As a student of divinity, it was not a necessity with Alfred Stevens. +Nay, it was essential to the character which he professed that he should +eschew such a mode of arbitrament. But he reasoned on this subject, as +well with reference to past habits as to future responsibilities. His +present profession being simply a ruse d'amour (and, as he already began +to perceive, a harmless one in the eyes of the beauty whom he sought, +and whose intense feelings and unregulated mind did not suffer her to +perceive the serious defects of a character which should attempt so +impious a fraud), he was beginning to be somewhat indifferent to its +preservation; and, with the decline of his caution in this respect, +arose the natural inquiry as to what would be expected of him in his +former relations to society. Should it ever be known hereafter, at +a time when he stood before the people as a candidate for some high +political trust, that he had tamely submitted to the infliction of a +cowskin, the revelation would be fatal to all his hopes of ambition, +and conclusive against all his social pretensions. In short, so far as +society was concerned, it would be his social death. + +These considerations were felt in their fullest force. Indeed, their +force can not well be conceived by the citizen of any community where +the sense of individual responsibility is less rigid and exacting. They +naturally outweighed all others in the mind of Alfred Stevens; and, +though no fire-eater, he not only resolved on fighting with Hinkley, +but, smarting under the strokes of the cowskin--heavily laid on as they +had been--his resolution was equally firm that, in the conflict, they +should not separate until blood was drawn. Of course, there were some +difficulties to be overcome in bringing about the meeting, but, where +the parties are willing, most difficulties are surmounted with tolerable +ease. This being the case at present, it followed that both minds were +busy at the same moment in devising the when, the how, and the where, of +the encounter. + +William Hinkley went from the house of his father to that of his cousin; +but the latter had not yet returned from that ride which he had taken +in order to discover the course usually pursued by Stevens. Here he +sat down to dinner, but the sister of Ned Hinkley observed that he ate +little, and fancied he was sick. That he should come to dine with his +cousin was too frequent a matter to occasion question or surprise. This +lady was older than her brother by some seven years. She was a widow, +with an only child, a girl. The child was a prattling, smiling, +good-natured thing, about seven years old, who was never so happy +as when on Cousin William's knee. Poor William, indeed, was quite a +favorite at every house in the village except that of Margaret Cooper, +and, as he sometimes used bitterly to add, his own. On this occasion, +however, the child was rendered unhappy by the seeming indifference of +Cousin William. The heart of the young man was too full of grief, and +his mind of anxiety, to suffer him to bestow the usual caresses upon +her; and when, putting her down, he passed into the chamber of Ned +Hinkley, the little thing went off to her mother, to complain of the +neglect she had undergone. + +"Cousin William don't love Susan any more, mamma," was the burden of her +complaint. + +"Why do you say so, Susan?" + +"He don't kiss me, mamma; he don't keep me in his lap. He don't say +good things to me, and call me his little sweetheart. I'm afraid Cousin +William's got some other sweetheart. He don't love Susan." + +It was while the little prattler was pouring forth her infantile sorrows +in her mother's ear, that the voice of William Hinkley was heard, +calling her name from the chamber. + +"There, he's calling you now, Susan. Run to him and kiss him, and see +what he wants. I'm sure he loves you just as much as ever. He's got no +other sweetheart." + +"I'll run, mamma--that I will. I'm so glad! I hope he loves me!" and the +little innocent scampered away to the chamber. Her artless tongue, as +she approached, enabled him to perceive what had been her grievances. + +"Do you call me to love me, and to kiss me, Cousin William, and to make +me your sweetheart again?" + +"Yes, Susan, you shall be my only sweetheart. I will kiss nobody but +you." + +"You'll forget--you will--you'll put me out of your lap, and go away +shaking your head, and looking so!--" and here the observant little +creature attempted a childish imitation of the sad action and the +strange, moody gestures with which he had put her down when he was +retiring from the room--gestures and looks which the less quick eyes of +her mother had failed utterly to perceive. + +"No, no!" said he, with a sad smile; "no, Susan. I'll keep you in my lap +for an hour whenever I come, and you shall be my sweetheart always." + +"Your LITTLE sweetheart, your LITTLE Susan, Cousin William." + +"Yes, my dear little Susan, my dearest little sweetheart Susan." + +And he kissed the child fondly while he spoke, and patted her rosy +cheeks with a degree of tenderness which his sad and wandering thoughts +did not materially diminish. + +"But now, Susan," said he, "if I am to be your sweetheart, and to love +you always, you must do all that I bid you. You must go where I send +you." + +"Don't I, Cousin William? When you send me to Gran'pa Calvert, don't I +go and bring you books, and didn't I always run, and come back soon, and +never play by the way?" + +"You're a dear Susan," said he; "and I want you to carry a paper for me +now. Do you see this little paper? What is it?" + +"A note--don't I know?" + +"Well, you must carry this note for me to uncle's, but you mustn't give +it to uncle, nor to aunty, nor to anybody but the young man that lives +there--young Mr. Stevens." + +"Parson Stevens," said the little thing, correcting him. + +"Ay, ay, Parson Stevens, if you please. You must give it to him, and him +only; and he will give you a paper to bring back to me. Will you go now, +Susan?" + +"Yes, I'll go: but, Cousin William, are you going to shoot the little +guns? Don't shoot them till I come back, will you?" + +The child pointed to a pair of pistols which lay upon the table where +William Hinkley had penned the billet. A flush of consciousness passed +over the young man's cheek. It seemed to him as if the little innocent's +inquiry had taken the aspect of an accusation. He promised and dismissed +her, and, when she had disappeared, proceeded to put the pistols in some +condition for use. In that time and region, duels were not often fought +with those costly and powerful weapons, the pistols of rifle bore +and sight. The rifle, or the ordinary horseman's pistol, answered the +purposes of hate. The former instrument, in the hands of the Kentuckian, +was a deadly weapon always; and, in the grasp of a firm hand, and under +the direction of a practised eye, the latter, at ten paces, was scarcely +less so. This being the case, but few refinements were necessary to +bring about the most fatal issues of enmity; and the instruments which +William Hinkley was preparing for the field were such as would produce +a smile on the lips of more civilized combatants. They were of the +coarsest kind of holster-pistols, and had probably seen service in the +Revolution. The stocks were rickety, the barrels thin, the bore almost +large enough for grape, and really such as would receive and disgorge +a three-ounce bullet with little straining or reluctance. They had been +the property of his own grandfather, and their value for use was perhaps +rather heightened than diminished by the degree of veneration which, in +the family, was attached to their history. + +William Hinkley soon put them in the most efficient order. He was not +a practised hand, but an American forester is a good shot almost by +instinct; he naturally cleaves to a gun, and without instruction learns +its use. William, however, did not think much of what he could hit, at +what distance, and under what circumstances. Nothing, perhaps, could +better show the confidence in himself and weapon than the inattention +which the native-born woodman usually exhibits to these points. Let his +weapon be such as he can rely upon, and his cause of quarrel such as +can justify his anger, and the rest seems easy, and gives him little +annoyance. This was now the case with our rustic. He never, for a +moment, thought of practising. He had shot repeatedly, and knew what he +could do. His simple object was to bring his enemy to the field, and to +meet him there. Accordingly, when he had loaded both pistols, which he +did with equal care, and with a liberal allowance of lead and powder, he +carefully put them away without offering to test his own skill or their +capacities. On this subject, his indifference would have appeared, to a +regular duellist, the very extreme of obtuseness. + +His little courier conveyed his billet to Stevens in due season. As she +had been instructed, she gave it into the hands of Stevens only; but, +when she delivered it, old Hinkley was present, and she named the person +by whom it was sent. + +"My son! what does he say?" demanded the old man, half-suspecting the +purport of the billet. + +"Ah!" exclaimed Stevens, with the readiness of a practised actor, "there +is some hope, I am glad to tell you, Mr. Hinkley, of his coming to his +senses. He declares his wish to atone, and invites me to see him. I have +no doubt that he wishes me to mediate for him." + +"I will never forgive him while I have breath!" cried the old man, +leaving the room. "Tell him that!" + +"Wait a moment, my pretty one," said Stevens, as he was about retiring +to his chamber, "till I can write an answer." + +The billet of Hinkley he again read. We may do so likewise. It was to +the following effect:-- + +"Sir: If I understood your last assurance on leaving you this day, I am +to believe that the stroke of my whip has made its proper impression on +your soul--that you are willing to use the ordinary means of ordinary +persons, to avenge an indignity which was not CONFINED TO YOUR CLOTH. +If so, meet me at the lake with whatever weapons you choose to bring. I +will be there, provided with pistols for both, at any hour from three to +six. I shall proceed to the spot as soon as I receive your answer. + +"W. H." + +"Short and sharp!" exclaimed Stevens as he read the billet. "'Who would +have thought that the YOUNG man had so much blood in him!' Well, we +will not balk your desire, Master Hinkley. We will meet you, in verity, +though it may compel me to throw up my present hand and call for other +cards. N'importe: there is no other course." + +While soliloquizing, he penned his answer, which was brief and to the +purpose:-- + +"I will meet you as soon as I can steal off without provoking suspicion. +I have pistols which I will bring with me. + +"A. S." + +"There, my little damsel," said he, re-entering the dining-room, and +putting the sealed paper into the hands of the child, "carry that to Mr. +Hinkley, and tell him I will come and speak with him as he begs me. But +the note will tell him." + +"Yes, sir." + +"So----" + +Mrs. Hinkley entered the room at this moment. Her husband had apprized +her of the communication which her son had made, and the disposition +to atonement and repentance which he had expressed. She was anxious to +confirm this good disposition, to have her son brought back within the +fold, restored to her own affections and the favor of his father. The +latter, it is true, had signified his determined hostility, even while +conveying his intelligence; but the mother was sanguine--when was a +mother otherwise?--that all things would come right which related to her +only child. She now came to implore the efforts of Stevens; to entreat, +that, like a good Christian, he would not suffer the shocking stripes +which her son, in his madness, had inflicted upon him to outweigh his +charity, to get the better of his blessed principles, and make him war +upon the atoning spirit which had so lately, and so suddenly wakened +up in the bosom of the unruly boy. She did not endeavor to qualify the +offence of which her son had been guilty. She was far from underrating +the indignity to which Stevens had been subjected; but the offender +was her son--her only son--in spite of all his faults, follies, and +imperfections, the apple of her eye--the only being for whom she cared +to live! + +Ah! the love of a mother!--what a holy thing! sadly wanting in +judgment--frequently misleading, perverting, nay, dooming the object +which it loves; but, nevertheless, most pure; least selfish; truest; +most devoted! + +And the tears gushed from the old woman's eyes as she caught the hand +of Stevens in her own, and kissed it--kissed HIS hand--could William +Hinkley have seen THAT, how it would have rankled, how he would have +writhed! She kissed the hands of that wily hypocrite, bedewing them with +her tears, as if he were some benign and blessing saint; and not because +he had shown any merits or practised any virtues, but simply because +of certain professions which he had made, and in which she had perfect +faith because of the professions, and not because of any previous +knowledge which she had of the professor. Truly, it behooves a rogue +monstrous much to know what garment it is best to wear; the question is +equally important to rogue and dandy. + +Stevens made a thousand assurances in the most Christian spirit--we can +not say that he gave her tear for tear--promised to do his best to bring +back the prodigal son to her embrace, and the better to effect this +object, put his pistols under his belt! Within the hour he was on his +way to the place of meeting. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +FOOT TO FOOT. + + + + + +William Hinkley was all impatience until, his little messenger returned, +which she did with a speed which might deserve commendation in the +case of our professional Mercuries--stage-drivers and mail contractors, +hight! He did not withhold it from the little maid, but taking her in +his arms, and kissing her fondly, he despatched her to her mother, while +he wrapped up his pistols and concealing them in the folds of his coat, +hurried from the house with the anxious haste of one who is going to +seek his prey. He felt somewhat like that broad-winged eagle which +broods on the projecting pinnacle of yonder rocky peak in waiting for +the sea-hawk who is stooping far below him, watching when the sun's rays +shall glisten from the uprising fins of his favorite fish. But it was +not a selfish desire to secure the prey which the terror of the other +might cause him to drop. It was simply to punish the prowler. Poor +William could not exactly tell indeed why he wished to shoot Alfred +Stevens; but his cause of hostility was not less cogent because it had +no name. The thousand little details which induce our prejudices in +regard to persons, are, singly, worth no one's thought, and would +possibly provoke the contempt of all; but like the myriad threads which +secured the huge frame of Gulliver in his descent upon Lilliput, they +are, when united, able to bind the biggest giant of us all. + +The prejudices of William Hinkley, though very natural in such a case +as his, seemed to him very much like instincts. It seemed to him, if +he once reasoned on the matter, that, as he had good cause to hate the +intruder, so there must be justification for shooting him. Were this +not so, the policy of hating would be very questionable, and surely very +unprofitable. It would be a great waste of a very laudable quantity +of feeling--something like omitting one's bullet in discharging one's +piece--a profligacy only justifiable in a feu de joie after victory, +where the bullets have already done all necessary mischief, and will +warrant a small subsequent waste of the more harmless material. + +Without designing any such child's play, our rustic hero, properly +equipped with his antique pistols, well charged, close rammed, +three-ounce bullets, or nearabouts, in each, stood, breathing fire but +without cooling, on the edge of the lake, perched on an eminence and +looking out for the coming enemy. He was playing an unwonted character, +but he felt as if it were quite familiar to him. He had none of that +nice feeling which, without impugning courage, is natural enough to +inexperience in such cases. The muzzles of the pistols did not appear +to him particularly large. He never once thought of his own ribs being +traversed by his three-ounce messengers. He had no misgivings on the +subject of his future digestion. He only thought of that blow from his +father's hand--that keen shaft from the lips of Margaret Cooper--that +desolation which had fallen upon his soul from the scorn of both; and +the vengeance which it was in his power to inflict upon the fortunate +interloper to whose arts he ascribed all his misfortunes! and with these +thoughts his fury and impatience increased, and he ascended the highest +hill to look out for his foe; descended, in the next moment, to the edge +of the lake, the better to prepare for the meeting. + +In this state of excitement the meekness had departed from his +countenance; an entire change of expression had taken place: he stood +up, erect, bold, eagle-eyed, with the look of one newly made a man by +the form of indomitable will, and feeling, for the first time, man's +terrible commission to destroy. In a moment, with the acquisition of +new moods, he had acquired a new aspect. Hitherto, he had been tame, +seemingly devoid of spirit--you have not forgotten the reproaches of +his cousin, which actually conveyed an imputation against his +manliness?--shrinking, with a feeling of shyness akin to mauvaise honte, +and almost submitting to injustice, to avoid the charge of ill-nature. +The change that we have described in his soul, had made itself +singularly apparent in his looks. They were full of a grim +determination. Had he gazed upon his features, in the glassy surface of +the lake beside him, he had probably recoiled from their expression. + +We have seen Mrs. Hinkley sending Stevens forth for the purpose of +recalling her son to his senses, receiving his repentance, and bringing +him once more home into the bosom of his flock. We have not forgotten +the brace of arguments with which he provided himself in order to bring +about this charitable determination. Stevens was a shot. He could snuff +his candle at ten paces, sever his bamboo, divide the fingers of the +hand with separate bullets without grazing the skin--nay, more, as +was said in the euphuistic phraseology of his admirers, send his ball +between soul and body without impairing the integrity of either. + +But men may do much shooting at candle or bamboo, who would do precious +little while another is about to shoot at them. There is a world of +difference between looking in a bull's-eye, and looking in the eye of +man. A pistol, too, looks far less innocent, regarded through the medium +of a yawning muzzle, than the rounded and neatly-polished butt. The huge +mouth seems to dilate as you look upon it. You already begin to fancy +you behold the leaden mass--the three-ounce bullet--issuing from its +stronghold, like a relentless baron of the middle ages, going forth +under his grim archway, seeking only whom he may devour. The sight is +apt to diminish the influence of skill. Nerves are necessary to such +sportsmen, and nerves become singularly untrue when frowned upon through +such a medium. + +Under this view of the case, we are not so sure that the excellence +of aim for which Alfred Stevens has been so much lauded, will make the +difference very material between the parties; and now that he is fairly +roused, there is a look of the human devil about William Hinkley, that +makes him promise to be dangerous. Nay, the very pistols that he wields, +those clumsy, rusty, big-mouthed ante-revolutionary machines, which +his stout grandsire carried at Camden and Eutaw, have a look of service +about them--a grim, veteran-like aspect, that makes them quite as +perilous to face as to handle. If they burst they will blow on all +sides. There will be fragments enough for friend and foe; and even +though Stevens may not apprehend so much from the aim of his antagonist, +something of deference is due to the possibility of such a concussion, +as will make up all his deficiencies of skill. + +But they have not yet met, though Stevens, with praiseworthy +Christianity, is on his way to keep his engagements, as well to mother +as to son. He has his own pistols--not made for this purpose--but a +substantial pair of traveller's babes--big of mouth, long of throat, +thick of jaw, keen of sight, quick of speech, strong of wind, and +weighty of argument. They are rifled bores also, and, in the hands of +the owner, have done clever things at bottle and sapling. Stevens would +prefer to have the legitimate things, but these babes are trustworthy; +and he has no reason to suppose that the young rustic whom he goes +to meet can produce anything more efficient. He had no idea of those +ancient bull-pups, those solemn ante-revolutionary barkers, which our +grandsire used upon harder heads than his, at Camden and the Eutaws. He +is scarcely so confident in his own weapons when his eye rests on the +rusty tools of his enemy. + +But it was not destined that this fight should take place without +witnesses. In spite of all the precautions of the parties, and they were +honest in taking them, our little village had its inklings of what was +going on. There were certain signs of commotion and explosion which made +themselves understood. Our little maid, Susan Hinkley, was the first, +very innocently, to furnish a clue to the mystery. She had complained +to her mother that Cousin William had not shot the little guns for her +according to his promise. + +"But, perhaps, he didn't want to shoot them, Susan." + +"Yes, mamma, he put them in his pockets. He's carried them to shoot; and +he promised to shoot them for me as soon as I carried the note." + +"And to whom did you carry the note, Susan?" asked the mother. + +"To the young parson, at Uncle William's." + +The mother had not been unobservant of the degree of hostility which her +brother, as well as cousin, entertained for Stevens. They had both +very freely expressed their dislike in her presence. Some of their +conferences had been overheard and were now recalled, in which +this expression of dislike had taken the form of threats, vague and +purposeless, seemingly, at the time; but which now, taken in connection +with what she gathered from the lips of the child, seemed of portentous +interest. Then, when she understood that Stevens had sent a note +in reply--and that both notes were sealed, the quick, feminine mind +instantly jumped to the right conclusion. + +"They are surely going to fight. Get my bonnet, Susan, I must run to +Uncle William's, and tell him while there's time. Which way did Cousin +William go?" + +The child could tell her nothing but that he had taken to the hills. + +"That brother Ned shouldn't be here now! Though I don't see the good of +his being here. He'd only make matters worse. Run, Susan--run over to +Gran'pa Calvert, and tell him to come and stop them from fighting, +while I hurry to Uncle William's. Lord save us!--and let me get there in +time." + +The widow had a great deal more to say, but this was quite enough to +bewilder the little girl. Nevertheless, she get forth to convey the +mysterious message to Grand'pa Calvert, though the good mother never +once reflected that this message was of the sort which assumes the party +addressed to be already in possession of the principal facts. While she +took one route the mother pursued another, and the two arrived at their +respective places at about the same time. Stevens had already left +old Hinkley's when the widow got there, and the consternation of Mrs. +Hinkley was complete. The old man was sent for to the fields, and came +in only to declare that some such persuasion had filled his own mind +when first the billet of his son had been received. But the suspicion of +the father was of a much harsher sort than that of the widow Hinkley. +In her sight it was a duel only--bad enough as a duel--but still only a +duel, where the parties incurring equal risks, had equal rights. But +the conception of the affair, as it occurred to old Hinkley, was very +different. + +"Base serpent!" he exclaimed--"he has sent for the good young man only +to murder him. He implores him to come to him, in an artful writing, +pretending to be sorely sorrowful and full of repentance; and he +prepares the weapon of murder to slay him when he comes. Was there ever +creature so base!--but I will hunt him out. God give me strength, and +grant that I may find him in season." + +Thus saying, the old man seized his crab-stick, a knotty club, that had +been seasoned in a thousand smokes, and toughened by the use of twenty +years. His wife caught up her bonnet and hurried with the widow Hinkley +in his train. Meanwhile, by cross-examining the child, Mr. Calvert +formed some plausible conjectures of what was on foot, and by the time +that the formidable procession had reached his neighborhood he was +prepared to join it. Events thickened with the increasing numbers. New +facts came in to the aid of old ones partially understood. The widow +Thackeray, looking from her window, as young and handsome widows are +very much in the habit of doing, had seen William Hinkley going by +toward the hill, with a very rapid stride and a countenance very much +agitated; and an hour afterward she had seen Brother Stevens following +on the same route--good young man!--with the most heavenly and benignant +smile upon his countenance--the very personification of the cherub and +the seraph, commissioned to subdue the fiend. + +"Here is some of your treachery, Mr. Calvert. You have spoiled this +boy of mine; turning his head with law studies; and making him +disobedient--giving him counsel and encouragement against his +father--and filling his mind with evil things. It is all your doing, +and your books. And now he's turned out a bloody murderer, a papist +murderer, with your Roman catholic doctrines." + +"I am no Roman catholic, Mr. Hinkley," was the mild reply--"and as for +William becoming a murderer, I think that improbable. I have a better +opinion of your son than you have." + +"He's an ungrateful cub--a varmint of the wilderness--to strike the good +young man in my own presence--to strike him with a cowskin--what do you +think of that, sir? answer me that, if you please." + +"Did William Hinkley do this?" demanded the old teacher earnestly. + +"Ay, that he did, did he!" + +"I can hardly understand it. There must have been some grievous +provocation?" + +"Yes; it was a grievous provocation, indeed, to have to wait for grace +before meat." + +"Was that all? can it be possible!" + +The mother of the offender supplied the hiatus in the story--and Calvert +was somewhat relieved. Though he did not pretend to justify the assault +of the youth, he readily saw how he had been maddened by the treatment +of his father. He saw that the latter was in a high pitch of religious +fury--his prodigious self-esteem taking part with it, naturally enough, +against a son, who, until this instance, had never risen in defiance +against either. Expostulation and argument were equally vain with him; +and ceasing the attempt at persuasion, Calvert hurried on with the rest, +being equally anxious to arrest the meditated violence, whether that +contemplated the murderous assassination which the father declared, or +the less heinous proceeding of the duel which he suspected. + +There was one thing which made him tremble for his own confidence in +William Hinkley's propriety of course. It was the difficulty which he +had with the rest, in believing that the young student of divinity would +fight a duel. This doubt, he felt, must be that, of his pupil also: +whether the latter had any reason to suppose that Stevens would depart +from the principles of his profession, and waive the securities which +it afforded, he had of course, no means for conjecturing; but his +confidence in William induced him to believe that some such impression +upon his mind had led him to the measure of sending a challenge, which, +otherwise, addressed to a theologian, would have been a shameless +mockery. + +There was a long running fire, by way of conversation and commentary, +which was of course maintained by these toiling pedestrians, cheering +the way as they went; but though it made old Hinkley peccant and wrathy, +and exercised the vernacular of the rest to very liberal extent, we do +not care to distress the reader with it. It may have been very fine or +not. It is enough to say that the general tenor of opinion run heavily +against our unhappy rustic, and in favor of the good young man, Stevens. +Mrs. Thackeray, the widow, to whom Stevens had paid two visits or +more since he had been in the village, and who had her own reasons for +doubting that Margaret Cooper had really obtained any advantages in +the general struggle to find favor in the sight of this handsome man of +God--was loud in her eulogy upon the latter, and equally unsparing in +her denunciations of the village lad who meditated so foul a crime +as the extinguishing so blessed a light. Her denunciations at length +aroused all the mother in Mrs. Hinkley's breast, and the two dames +had it, hot and heavy, until, as the parties approached the lake, old +Hinkley, with a manner all his own, enjoined the most profound silence, +and hushed, without settling the dispute. + +Meanwhile, the combatants had met. William Hinkley, having ascended the +tallest perch among the hills, beheld his enemy approaching at a natural +pace and at a short distance. He descended rapidly to meet him and the +parties joined at the foot of the woodland path leading down to the +lake, where, but a few days before, we beheld Stevens and Margaret +Cooper. Stevens was somewhat surprised to note the singular and imposing +change which a day, almost an hour, had wrought in the looks and bearing +of the young rustic. His good, and rather elevated command of language, +had struck him previously as very remarkable, but this had been +explained by his introduction to Mr. Calvert, who, as his teacher, he +soon found was very well able to make him what he was. It was the high +bearing, the courteous defiance, the superior consciousness of strength +and character, which now spoke in the tone and manner of the youth. A +choice military school, for years, could scarcely have brought about +a more decided expression of that subdued heroism, which makes mere +manliness a matter of chivalry, and dignifies brute anger and blind +hostility into something like a sentiment. Under the prompting of a +good head, a generous temper, and the goodness of a highly-roused, but +legitimate state of feeling, William Hinkley wore the very appearance +of that nobleness, pride, ease, firmness, and courtesy, which, in the +conventional world, it is so difficult, yet held to be so important, +to impress upon the champion when ready for the field. A genuine son of +thunder would have rejoiced in his deportment, and though a sneering, +jealous and disparaging temper, Alfred Stevens could not conceal from +himself the conviction that there was stuff in the young man which it +needed nothing but trial and rough attrition to bring out. + +William Hinkley bowed at his approach, and pointed to a close footpath +leading to the rocks on the opposite shore. + +"There, sir, we shall be more secret. There is a narrow grove above, +just suited to our purpose. Will it please you to proceed thither?" + +"As YOU please, Mr. Hinkley," was the reply; "I have no disposition to +balk your particular desires. But the sight of this lake reminds me that +I owe you my life?" + +"I had thought, sir, that the indignity which I put upon you, would +cancel all such memories," was the stern reply. + +The cheek of Stevens became crimson--his eye flashed--he felt the +sarcasm--but something was due to his position, and he was cool enough +to make a concession to circumstances. He answered with tolerable +calmness, though not without considerable effort. + +"It has cancelled the OBLIGATION, sir, if not the memory! I certainly +can owe you nothing for a life which you have attempted to disgrace--" + +"Which I have disgraced!" said the other, interrupting him. + +"You are right, sir. How far, however, you have shown your manhood +in putting an indignity upon one whose profession implies peace, and +denounces war, you are as well prepared to answer as myself." + +"The cloth seems to be of precious thickness!" was the answer of +Hinkley, with a smile of bitter and scornful sarcasm. + +"If you mean to convoy the idea that I do not feel the shame of the +blow, and am not determined on avenging it, young man, you are in error. +You will find that I am not less determined because I am most cool. I +have come out deliberately for the purpose of meeting you. My purpose in +reminding you of my profession was simply to undeceive you. It appears +to me not impossible that the knowledge of it has made you somewhat +bolder than you otherwise might have been." + +"What mean you?" was the stern demand of Hinkley, uttered in very +startling accents. + +"To tell you that I have not always been a non-combatant, that I am +scarcely one now, and that, in the other schools, in which I have been +taught, the use of the pistol was an early lesson. You have probably +fancied that such was not the case, and that my profession--" + +"Come, sir--will you follow this path?" said Hinkley, interrupting him +impatiently. + +"All in good time, sir, when you have heard me out," was the cool reply. +"Now, sir," he continued, "were you to have known that it would be no +hard task for me to mark any button on your vest, at any distance--that +I have often notched a smaller mark, and that I am prepared to do +so again, it might be that your prudence would have tempered your +courage--" + +"I regret for your sake," said Hinkley, again interrupting him with a +sarcasm, "that I have not brought with me the weapon with which MY marks +are made. You seem to have forgotten that I too have some skill in +my poor way. One would think, sir, that the memory would not fail of +retaining what I suspect will be impressed upon the skin for some time +longer." + +"You are evidently bent on fighting, Mr. Hinkley, and I must gratify +you!" + +"If you please, sir." + +"But, before doing so, I should like to know in what way I have provoked +such a feeling of hostility in your mind? I have not sought to do so. +I have on the contrary, striven to show you my friendship, in part +requital of the kindness shown me by your parents." + +"Do not speak of them, if you please." + +"Ay, but I must. It was at the instance of your worthy mother that I +sought you and strove to confer with you on, the cause of your evident +unhappiness." + +"You were the cause." + +"I?" + +"Yes--you! Did I not tell you then that I hated you; and did you not +accept my defiance?" + +"Yes; but when you saved my life!--" + +"It was to spurn you--to put stripes upon you. I tell you, Alfred +Stevens, I loathe you with the loathing one feels for a reptile, whose +cunning is as detestable as his sting is deadly. I loathe you from +instinct. I felt this dislike and distrust for you from the first moment +that I saw you. I know not how, or why, or in what manner, you are a +villain, but I feel you to be one! I am convinced of it as thoroughly as +if I knew it. You have wormed yourself into the bosom of my family. You +have expelled me from the affections of my parents; and not content +with this, you have stolen to the heart of the woman to whom my life was +devoted, to have me driven thence also. Can I do less than hate you? Can +I desire less than your destruction? Say, having heard so much, whether +you will make it necessary that I should again lay my whip over your +shoulders." + +The face of Stevens became livid as he listened to this fierce and +bitter speech. His eye watched that of the speaker with the glare of +the tiger, as if noteful only of the moment when to spring. His frame +trembled. His lip quivered with the struggling rage. All his feeling of +self-superiority vanished when he listened to language of so unequivocal +a character--language which so truly denounced, without defining, his +villany. He felt, that if the instinct of the other was indeed so keen +and quick, then was the combat necessary, and the death of the rustic +essential, perhaps, to his own safety. William Hinkley met his glance +with a like fire. There was no shrinking of his heart or muscles. Nay, +unlike his enemy, he felt a strange thrill of pleasure in his veins as +he saw the effect which his language had produced on the other. + +"Lead the way!" said Stevens; "the sooner you are satisfied the better." + +"You are very courteous, and I thank you," replied Hinkley, with a +subdued but sarcastic smile, "you will pardon me for the seeming slight, +in taking precedence of one so superior; but the case requires it. You +will please to follow. I will show you my back no longer than it seems +necessary." + +"Lead on, sir--lead on." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +UNEXPECTED ISSUES. + + + + + +William Hinkley ascended the narrow path leading to the hills with an +alacrity of heart which somewhat surprised himself. The apprehensions of +danger, if he felt any, were not of a kind to distress or annoy him, and +were more than balanced by the conviction that he had brought his enemy +within his level. That feeling of power is indeed a very consolatory +one. It satisfies the ambitious heart, though death preys upon his +household, one by one; though suffering fevers his sleep; though the +hopes of his affection wither; though the loves and ties of his youth +decay and vanish. It makes him careless of the sunshine, and heedless of +the storm. It deadens his ear to the song of birds, it blinds his eye to +the seduction of flowers. It makes him fly from friendship and rush on +hate. It compensates for all sorts of loneliness, and it produces them. +It is a princely despotism; which, while it robs its slave of freedom, +covers him with other gifts which he learns to value more; which, +binding him in fetters, makes him believe that they are sceptres and +symbols before which all things become what he desires them. His speech +is changed, his very nature perverted, but he acquires an "open sesame" +by their loss, and the loss seems to his imagination an exceeding gain. +We will not say that William Hinkley was altogether satisfied with HIS +bargain, but in the moment when he stood confronting his enemy on the +bald rock, with a deadly weapon in each hand--when he felt that he stood +foot to foot in equal conflict with his foe, one whom he had dragged +down from his pride of place, and had compelled to the fearful issue +which made his arrogance quail--in that moment, if he did not forget, he +did not so much feel, that he had lost family and friends, parents +and love; and if he felt, it was only to induce that keener feeling of +revenge in which even the affections are apt to be swallowed up. + +Stevens looked in the eye of the young man and saw that he was +dangerous. He looked upon the ante-revolutionary pistols, and saw that +they were dangerous too, in a double sense. + +"Here are pistols," he said, "better suited to our purpose. You can +sound them and take your choice." + +"These," said Hinkley, doggedly, "are as well suited as any. If you +will, you can take your choice of mine; but if you think yours superior, +use them. These are good enough for me." + +"But this is out of all usage," said Stevens. + +"What matters it, Mr. Stevens? If you are satisfied that yours are the +best, the advantage is with you. If you doubt that mine can kill, try +them. I have a faith in these pistols which will content me; but we will +take one of each, if that will please you better, and use which we think +proper." + +Stevens expressed himself better pleased to keep his own. + +"Suit yourself as to distance," said Hinkley, with all the coolness of +an unmixed salamander. His opponent stepped off ten paces with great +deliberation, and William Hinkley, moving toward a fragment of the rock +upon which he had placed his "revolutions" for the better inspection of +his opponent, possessed himself of the veterans and prepared to take the +station which had been assigned him. + +"Who shall give the word?" demanded Stevens. + +"You may!" was the cool rejoinder. + +"If I do, I kill you," said the other. + +"I have no fear, Mr. Stevens," answered William Hinkley with a degree of +phlegm which almost led Stevens to fancy he had to deal with a regular +Trojan--"I have no fear," he continued, "and if you fancy you can +frighten me by this sort of bragging you have very much mistaken your +man. Shoot when you please, word or no word." + +William Hinkley stood with his back to the woods, his face toward the +lake which spread itself, smooth and calm at a little distance. He +did not perceive that his position was a disadvantageous one. The tree +behind, and that beside him, rendered his body a most conspicuous mark; +while his opponent, standing with his back to the uncovered rocks ranged +with no other objects of any prominence. Had he even been sufficiently +practised in the arts of the duello, he would most probably have been +utterly regardless of these things. They would not have influenced +his firmness in the slightest degree. His course was quite as much the +result of desperation as philosophy. He felt himself an outcast as +well from home as from love, and it mattered to him very little, in the +morbid excitement of his present mind, whether he fell by the hand +of his rival, or lived to pine out a wearisome existence, lonely and +uninspired, a gloomy exile in the bitter world. He waited, it may be +said, with some impatience for the fire of his antagonist. Once he saw +the pistol of Stevens uplifted. He had one in each hand. His own hung +beside him. He waited for the shot of the enemy as a signal when to lift +and use his own weapon. But instead of this he was surprised to see +him drop the muzzle of his weapon, and with some celerity and no small +degree of slight of hand, thrust the two pistols under his coat-skirts. +A buz reached his ears a moment after--the hum of voices--some rustling +in the bushes, which signified confusion in the approach of strangers. +He did not wish to look round as he preferred keeping his eye on his +antagonist. + +"Shoot!" he exclaimed--"quickly, before we are interrupted." + +Before he could receive any answer there was a rush behind him--he heard +his father's voice, sudden, and in a high degree of fury, mingled with +that of his mother and Mr. Calvert, as if in expostulation. From the +latter the words distinctly reached his ears, warning him to beware. +Such, also, was the purport of his mother's cry. Before he could turn +and guard against the unseen danger, he received a blow upon his head, +the only thing of which he was conscious for some time. He staggered and +fell forward. He felt himself stunned, fancied he was shot, and sunk to +the ground in an utter state of insensibility. + +The blow came from his father's crab-stick. It was so utterly unexpected +by the parties who had attended old Hinkley to the place of meeting, +that no efforts were made to prevent it. But the mother of the victim +rushed in in time to defeat the second blow, which the father prepared +to inflict, in the moment when his son was falling from the effects of +the first. Grasping the coat skirts of her spouse, she pulled him back +with no scrupulous hand, and effectually baffled his designs by bringing +him down, though in an opposite direction, to the same level with the +youth. Old Hinkley did not bite the dust, but the latter part of his +skull most effectually butted it; and had not his head been quite as +tough as his crab-stick, the hurt might have been quite as severe as +that which the latter had inflicted on the son. + +The latter lay as perfectly quiet as if all had been over with him. So +much so, that the impression became very general that such was the +case. Under this impression the heart of the mother spoke out in mingled +screams of lamentation and reproach. She threw herself down by the side +of the youth and vainly attempted to stop the blood which was streaming +from a deep gash on his skull. While engaged in this work, her apron and +handkerchief being both employed for this purpose, she poured forth a +torrent of wrath and denunciation against her spouse. She now forgot all +the offences of the boy, and even Alfred Stevens came in for his share +of the anger with which she visited the offence and the offender. + +"Shame! shame! you bloody-minded man," she cried, "to slaughter your own +son--your only son--to come behind him and knock him down with a club as +if he had been an inhuman ox! You are no husband of mine. He sha'n't own +you for a father. If I had the pick, I'd choose a thousand fathers for +him, from here to Massassippi, sooner than you. He's only too good and +too handsome to be son of yours. And for what should you strike him? For +a stranger--a man we never saw before. Shame on you! You are a brute, a +monster, William Hinkley, and I'm done with you for ever. + +"My poor, poor boy! Look up, my son. Look up, William. Open your eyes. +It's your own dear mother that speaks to you. O my God! you've killed +him--he will not open his eyes. He's dead, he's dead, he's dead!" + +And truly it seemed so, for the youth gave no sign of consciousness. She +threw herself in a screaming agony upon his body, and gave herself up to +the unmeasured despair, which, if a weakness, is at least a sacred +one in the case of a mother mourning her only son. Old Hinkley was not +without his alarms--nay, not altogether without his compunctions. But +he was one of that round head genus whose self-esteem is too much at all +times for fear, or shame, or sensibility. Without seeking to assist +the lad, and ascertain what was his real condition, he sought only to +justify himself for what he had done by repeating the real and supposed +offences of the youth. He addressed himself in this labor chiefly to Mr. +Calvert, who, with quite as much suffering as any of the rest, had more +consideration, and was now busied in the endeavor to stanch the blood +and cleanse the wound of the victim. + +"He's only got what he deserved," exclaimed the sullen, stubborn father. + +"Do not speak so, Mr. Hinkley," replied Calvert, with a sternness which +was unusual with him; "your son may have got his death." + +"And he deserves it!" responded the other doggedly. + +"And if he has," continued Calvert, "you are a murderer--a cold-blooded +murderer--and as such will merit and will meet the halter." + +The face of the old man grew livid--his lips whitened with rage; and he +approached Calvert, his whole frame quivering with fury, and, shaking +his hand threateningly, exclaimed:-- + +"Do you dare to speak to me in this manner, you miserable, white-headed +pedagogue--do you dare?" + +"Dare!" retorted Calvert, rising to his feet with a look of majesty +which, in an instant, awed the insolence of the offender. Never had he +been faced by such defiance, so fearlessly and nobly expressed. + +"Dare!--Look on me, and ask yourself whether I dare or not. Approach me +but a step nigher, and even my love for your unfortunate and much-abused +but well-minded son will not protect you. I would chastise you, with all +my years upon me, in spite of my white head. Yours, if this boy should +die, will never become white, or will become so suddenly, as your +soul will wither, with its own self-torture, within you. Begone!--keep +back--do not approach me, and, above all, do not approach me with +uplifted hand, or, by Heaven, I will fell you to the earth as surely +as you felled this boy! You have roused a feeling within me, William +Hinkley, which has slept for years. Do not provoke it too far. Beware in +season. You have acted the brute and the coward to your son--you could +do so with impunity to him--to me you can not." + +There was something in this speech, from one whom old Hinkley was +accustomed to look upon as a dreaming bookworm, which goaded the +tyrannical father into irrepressible fury; and, grinding his teeth, +without a moment's hesitation he advanced, and was actually about to lay +the crab-stick over the shoulders of the speaker: but the latter was as +prompt as he was fearless. Before Hinkley could conceive his intention, +he had leaped over the still unconscious person of William, and, +flinging the old man round with a sudden jerk, had grasped and wrested +the stick from his hands with a degree of activity and strength which +confounded all the bystanders, and the subject of his sudden exercise of +manhood no less than the rest. + +"Were you treated justly," said Calvert, regarding him with a look of +the loftiest indignation, "you should yourself receive a taste of the +cudgel you are so free to use on others. Let your feebleness, old man, +be a warning to your arrogance." + +With these words, he flung the crab-stick into the lake, old Hinkley +regarding him with looks in which it was difficult to say whether +mortification or fury had preponderance. + +"Go," he continued--"your son lives; but it is God's mercy, and none of +yours, which has spared his life. You will live, I hope, to repent +of your cruelty and injustice to him; to repent of having shown a +preference to a stranger, so blind as that which has moved you to +attempt the life of one of the most gentle lads in the whole country." + +"And did he not come here to murder the stranger? did we not find him +even now with pistol ready to murder Brother Stevens? See the pistols +now in his hands--my father's pistols. We came not a minute too soon. +But for my blow, he had been a murderer." + +Such was the justification which old Hinkley now offered for what he had +done. + +"I am no advocate for duelling," said Calvert, "but I believe that your +son came with the stranger for this purpose, and not to murder him." + +"No, no! do you not see that Brother Stevens has no pistols? Did we not +see him trying to escape--walking off--walking almost over the rocks to +get out of the way?" + +Calvert comprehended the matter much more clearly. + +"Speak, sir!" he said to Stevens, "did you not come prepared to defend +yourself?" + +"You see me as I am," said Stevens, showing his empty hands. + +Calvert looked at him with searching eye. + +"I understand you, sir," he said, with an expression not to be mistaken; +"I understand you now. THIS LAD I KNOW. HE COULD NOT BE A MURDERER. HE +COULD NOT TAKE ANY MAN AT ADVANTAGE. If you do not know the fact, Mr. +Stevens, I can assure you that your life was perfectly secure from his +weapon, so long as his remained equally unendangered. The sight of that +lake, from which he rescued you but a few days ago, should sufficiently +have persuaded you of this." + +Stevens muttered something, the purport of which was, that "he did not +believe the young man intended to murder him." + +"Did he not send you a challenge?" + +"No!" said old Hinkley; "he sent him a begging note, promising atonement +and repentance." + +"Will you let me see that note?" said Calvert, addressing Stevens. + +"I have it not--I destroyed it," said Stevens with some haste. Calvert +said no more, but he looked plainly enough his suspicions. He now gave +his attention to William Hinkley, whose mother, while this scene was +in progress, had been occupied, as Calvert had begun, in stanching the +blood, and trimming with her scissors, which were fortunately at her +girdle, the hair from the wound. The son, meanwhile, had wakened to +consciousness. He had been stunned but not severely injured by the blow, +and, with the promptitude of a border-dame, Mrs. Hinkley, hurrying to +a pine-tree, had gathered enough of its resin, which, spread upon a +fragment of her cotton apron, and applied to the hurt, proved a very +fair substitute for adhesive plaster. The youth rose to his feet, still +retaining the pistols in his grasp. His looks were heavy from the stupor +which still continued, but kindled into instant intelligence when he +caught sight of Stevens and his father. + +"Go home, sir!" said the latter, waving his hand in the prescribed +direction. + +"Never!" was the reply of the young man, firmly expressed; "never, sir, +if I never have a home!" + +"You shall always have a home, William, while I have one," said Mr. +Calvert. + +"What! you encourage my son in rebellion? you teach him to fly in the +face of his father?" shouted the old man. + +"No, sir; I only offer him a shelter from tyranny, a place of refuge +from persecution. When you learn the duties and the feelings of a +father, it will be time enough to assert the rights of one. I do not +think him safe in your house against your vindictiveness and brutality. +He is, however, of full age, and can determine for himself." + +"He is not of age, and will not be till July." + +"It matters not. He is more near the years of discretion than his +father; and, judging him to be in some danger in your house, as a man +and as a magistrate I offer him the protection of mine. Come home with +me, William." + +"Let him go, if he pleases--go to the d--l! He who honors not +his father, says the Scriptures--what says the passage, Brother +Stevens--does it not say that he who honors not his father is in danger +of hell-fire?" + +"Not exactly, I believe," said the other. + +"Matters not, matters not!--the meaning is very much the same." + +"Oh, my son," said the mother, clinging to his neck, "will you, indeed, +desert me? can you leave me in my old age? I have none, none but you! +You know how I have loved--you know I will always love you." + +"And I love you, mother--and love him too, though he treats me as an +outcast--I will always love you, but I will never more enter my father's +dwelling. He has degraded me with his whip--he has attempted my life +with his bludgeon. I forgive him, but will never expose myself again +to his cruelties or indignities. You will always find me a son, and a +dutiful one, in all other respects." + +He turned away with Mr. Calvert, and slowly proceeded down the pathway +by which he had approached the eminence. He gave Stevens a significant +look as he passed him, and lifted one of the pistols which he still +carried in his hands, in a manner to make evident his meaning. The other +smiled and turned off with the group, who proceeded by the route along +the hills, but the last words of the mother, subdued by sobs, still came +to the ears of the youth:-- + +"Oh, my son, come home! come home!" + +"No! no! I have no home--no home, mother!" muttered the young man, as +if he thought the half-stifled response could reach the ears of the +complaining woman. + +"No home! no hope!" he continued--"I am desolate." + +"Not so, my son. God is our home; God is our companion; our strength, +our preserver! Living and loving, manfully striving and working out our +toils for deliverance, we are neither homeless, nor hopeless; neither +strengthless, nor fatherless; wanting neither in substance nor +companion. This is a sharp lesson, perhaps, but a necessary one. It will +give you that courage, of the great value of which I spoke to you but a +few days ago. Come with me to my home; it shall be yours until you can +find a better." + +"I thank you--oh! how much I thank you. It may be all as you pay, but I +feel very, very miserable." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +EXILE. + + + + + +The artist in the moral world must be very careful not to suffer his +nice sense of retributive justice, to get so much the better of his +judgment, as an artist, as to make him forgetful of human probabilities, +and the superior duty of preparing the mind of the young reader by +sterling examples of patience and protracted reward, to bear up manfully +against injustice, and not to despond because his rewards are slow. It +would be very easy for an author to make everybody good, or, if any were +bad, to dismiss them, out of hand, to purgatory and places even worse. +But it would be a thankless toil to read the writings of such an author. +His characters would fail in vraisemblance, and his incidents would lack +in interest. The world is a sort of vast moral lazar-house, in which +most have sores, either of greater or less degree of virulence. Some are +nurses, and doctors, and guardians; and these are necessarily free from +the diseases to which they minister. Some, though not many, are entirely +incurable; many labor for years in pain, and when dismissed, still +hobble along feebly, bearing the proofs of their trials in ugly seams +and blotches, contracted limbs, and pale, haggard features. Others get +off with a shorter and less severe probation. None are free from taint, +and those who are the most free, are not always the greatest favorites +with fortune. + +We are speaking of the moral world, good reader. We simply borrow an +illustration from the physical. Our interest in one another is very much +derived from our knowledge of each other's infirmities; and it may be +remarked, passingly, that this interest is productive of very excellent +philosophical temper, since it enables us to bear the worst misfortunes +of our best friends with the most amazing fortitude. It is a frequent +error with the reader of a book--losing sight of these facts--to expect +that justice will always be done on the instant. He will suffer no delay +in the book, though he sees that this delay of justice is one of the +most decided of all the moral certainties whether in life or law. He +does not wish to see the person in whom the author makes him interested, +perish in youth--die of broken heart or more rapid disaster; and if he +could be permitted to interfere, the bullet or the knife of the assassin +would be arrested at the proper moment and always turned against the +bosom of the wrong-doer. + +This is a very commendable state of feeling, and whenever it occurs, it +clearly shows that the author is going right in his vocation. It proves +him to be a HUMAN author, which is something better than being a mere, +dry, moral one. But he would neither be a human nor a moral author were +he to comply with the desires of such gentle readers, and, to satisfy +their sympathies, arrest the progress of events. The fates must have +their way, in the book as in the lazar-house; and the persons of his +drama must endure their sores and sufferings with what philosophy they +may, until, under the hands of that great physician, fortune, they +receive an honorable discharge or otherwise. + +Were it with him, our young friend, William Hinkley, who is really a +clever fellow, should not only be received to favor with all parties, +but such should never have fallen from favor in the minds of any. His +father should become soon repentant, and having convicted Stevens of +his falsehood and hypocrisy, he should be rewarded with the hand of the +woman to whom his young heart is so devoted. Such, perhaps, would be the +universal wish with our readers; but would this be fortunate for William +Hinkley? Our venerable friend and his, Mr. Calvert, has a very different +opinion. He says:-- + +"This young man is not only a worthy young man, but he is one, naturally +of very vigorous intellect. He is of earnest, impassioned temperament, +full of enthusiasm and imagination; fitted for work--great work--public +work--head work--the noblest kind of work. He will be a great +lawyer--perhaps a great statesman--if he addresses himself at once, +manfully, to his tasks; but he will not address himself to these tasks +while he pursues the rusting and mind-destroying life of a country +village. Give him the object of his present desire and you deprive him +of all motive for exertion. Give him the woman he seeks and you probably +deprive him even of the degree of quiet which the country village +affords. He would forfeit happiness without finding strength. Force him +to the use of his tools and he builds himself fame and fortune." + +Calvert was really not sorry that William Hinkley's treatment had been +so harsh. He sympathized, it is true, in his sufferings, but he was not +blind to their probable advantages; and he positively rejoiced in his +rejection by Margaret Cooper. + +It was some four or five days after the events with which our last +chapter was closed, that the old man and his young friend were to be +seen sitting together, under the shade of the venerable tree where we +have met them before. They had conferred together seriously, and finally +with agreeing minds, on the several topics which have been adverted to +in the preceding paragraph. William Hinkley had become convinced that it +was equally the policy of his mind and heart to leave Charlemont. He was +not so well satisfied, however, as was the case with Mr. Calvert, that +the loss of Margaret Cooper was his exceeding gain. When did young lover +come to such a conclusion? Not, certainly, while he was young. But when +was young lover wise? Though a discontent, William Hinkley was not, +however, soured nor despairing from the denial of his hopes. He had +resources of thought and spirit never tested before, of the possession +of which he, himself, knew nothing. They were to be brought into use and +made valuable only by these very denials; by the baffling of his hope; +by the provocation of his strength. + +His resolution grew rapidly in consequence of his disappointments. +He was now prepared to meet the wishes of his venerable and wise +preceptor--to grapple stoutly with the masters of the law; and, keeping +his heart in restraint, if not absolute abeyance, to do that justice +to his head, which, according to the opinion of Mr. Calvert, it +well-deserved if hitherto it had not demanded it. But to pursue his +studies as well as his practice, he was to leave Charlemont. How was +this to be done--where was he to go--by what means? A horse, saddle, and +bridle--a few books and the ante-revolutionary pistols of his grandsire, +which recent circumstances seemed to have endeared to him, were all his +available property. His poverty was an estoppel, at the outset, to his +own reflections; and thinking of this difficulty he turned with a blank +visage to his friend. + +The old man seemed to enter into and imagine his thoughts. He did not +wait to be reminded, by the halting speech of the youth, of the one +subject from which the latter shrunk to speak. + +"The next thing, my son," said he, "is the necessary means. Happily, in +the case of one so prudent and temperate as yourself, you will not need +much. Food and clothing, and a small sum, annually, for contingencies, +will be your chief expense; and this, I am fortunately able to provide. +I am not a rich man, my son; but economy and temperance, with industry, +have given me enough, and to spare. It is long since I had resolved that +all I have should be yours; and I had laid aside small sums from time to +time, intending them for an occasion like the present, which I felt +sure would at length arrive. I am rejoiced that my foresight should have +begun in time, since it enables me to meet the necessity promptly, +and to interpose myself at the moment when you most need counsel and +assistance." + +"Oh, my friend, my kind generous friend, how it shames me for my own +father to hear you speak thus!" + +The youth caught the hands of his benefactor, and the hot tears fell +from his eyes upon them, while he fervently bent to kiss them. + +"Your father is a good but rough man, William, who will come to his +senses in good time. Men of his education--governed as he is by the +mistake which so commonly confounds God with his self-constituted +representative, religion with its professor--will err, and can not be +reasoned out of their errors. It is the unceasing operation of time +which can alone teach them a knowledge of the truth. You must not think +too hardly of your father, who does not love you the less because he +fancies you are his particular property, with whom he may do what he +pleases. As for what I have done, and am disposed to do for you, let +that not become burdensome to your gratitude. In some respects you have +been a son to me, and I send you from me with the same reluctance +which a father would feel in the like circumstances. You have been my +companion, you have helped to cheer my solitude; and I have learned to +look on the progress of your mind with the interest of the philosopher +who pursues a favorite experiment. In educating you, I have attempted an +experiment which I should be sorry to see fail. I do not think now that +it will fail. I think you will do yourself and me ample justice. If I +have had my doubts, they were of your courage, not your talent. If +you have a weakness, it is because of a deficiency of self-esteem--a +tendency to self-disparagement. A little more actual struggle with the +world, and an utter withdrawal from those helps and hands which in a +youth's own home are very apt to be constantly employed to keep him from +falling, and to save him from the consequences of his fall, and I do not +despair of seeing you acquire that necessary moral hardihood which will +enable you to think freely, and to make your mind give a fair utterance +to the properties which are in it. When this is done, I have every hope +of you. You will rise to eminence in your profession. I know, my son, +that you will do me honor." + +"Ah, sir, I am afraid you overrate my abilities. I have no consciousness +of any such resources as you suppose me to possess." + +"It is here that your deficiency speaks out. Be bold, my son--be bold, +bolder, boldest. I would not have you presumptuous, but there is a +courage, short of presumption, which is only a just confidence in one's +energies and moral determination. This you will soon form, if, looking +around you and into the performances of others, you see how easy they +are, and how far inferior they are to your own ideas of what excellence +should be. Do not look into yourself for your standards. I have perhaps +erred in making these too high. Look out from yourself--look into +others--analyze the properties of others; and, in attempting, seek only +to meet the exigencies of the occasion, without asking what a great mind +might effect beyond it. Your heart will fail you always if your beau +ideal is for ever present to your mind." + +"I will try, sir. My tasks are before me, and I know it is full time +that I should discard my boyhood. I will go to work with industry, and +will endeavor not to disappoint your confidence; but I must confess, +sir, I have very little in myself." + +"If you will work seriously, William, my faith is in this very humility. +A man knowing his own weakness, and working to be strong, can not fail. +He must achieve something more than he strives for." + +"You make me strong as I hear you, sir. But I have one request to make, +sir. I have a favor to ask, sir, which will make me almost happy if you +grant it--which will at least reconcile me to receive your favors, and +to feel them less oppressively." + +"What is that, William? You know, my son, there are few things which I +could refuse you." + +"It is that _I_ MAY BE YOUR SON; that I may call you father, and bear +henceforward your name. If you adopt me, rear me, teach me, provide me +with the means of education and life, and do for me what a father should +have done, you are substantially more than my father to me. Let me bear, +your name. I shall be proud of it, sir. I will not disgrace it--nay, +more, it will strengthen me in my desire to do it and myself honor. When +I hear it spoken, it will remind me of my equal obligations to you and +to myself." + +"But this, my son, is a wrong done to your own father." + +"Alas! he will not feel it such." + +The old man shook his head. + +"You speak now with a feeling of anger, William. The treatment of your +father rankles in your mind." + +"No, sir, no! I freely forgive him. I have no reference to him in the +prayer I make. My purpose is simply what I declare. Your name will +remind me of your counsels, will increase my obligation to pursue them, +will strengthen me in my determination, will be to me a fond monitor in +your place. Oh, sir, do not deny me! You have shown me the affections of +a father--let me, I entreat you, bear the name of your son!" + +The youth flung his arms about the old man's neck, and wept with a gush +of fondness which the venerable sire could not withstand. He was deeply +touched: his lips quivered; his eyes thrilled and throbbed. In vain did +he strive to resist the impulse. He gave him tear for tear. + +"My son, you have unmanned me." + +"Ah, my father, I can not regret, since, in doing so, I have +strengthened my own manhood." + +"If it have this effect, William, I shall not regret my own weakness. +There is a bird, you are aware, of which it is fabled that it nourishes +its young by the blood of its own bosom, which it wounds for this +purpose. Believe me, my dear boy, I am not unwilling to be this bird for +your sake. If to feel for you as the fondest of fathers can give me the +rights of one, then are you most certainly my son--my son!" + +Long, and fond, and sweet, was their embrace. For a full hour, but few +words, and those of a mournful tenderness, were exchanged between the +parties. But the scene and the struggle were drawing nigh their close. +This was the day when they were to separate. It had been arranged that +William Hinkley, or as he now calls himself, William Calvert, was to +go into the world. The old man had recalled for his sake, many of the +memories and associations of his youth. He had revived that period--in +his case one of equal bitterness and pleasure--when, a youth like him he +was about to send forth, he had been the ardent student in a profession +whose honors he had so sadly failed to reap. In this profession he was +then fortunate in having many sterling friends. Some of these were still +so. In withdrawing from society, he had not withdrawn from all commerce +with a select and sacred few; and to the friendly counsel and protection +of these he now deputed the paternal trusts which had been just so +solemnly surrendered to himself. There were long and earnest appeals +written to many noble associates--men who had won great names by dint of +honorable struggle in those fields into which the feebler temper of Mr. +Calvert did not permit him to penetrate. Some of these letters bore for +their superscriptions such names as the Clays, the Crittendens, and the +Metcalfs--the strong men, not merely of Kentucky, but of the Union. +The good old man sighed as he read them over, separately, to his young +companion. + +"Once I stood with them, and like them--not the meanest among them--nay, +beloved by them as an associate, and recognised as a competitor. But +they are here--strong, high, glorious, in the eye of the nation--and I +am nothing--a poor white-headed pedagogue in the obscurest regions +of Kentucky. Oh, my son, remember this, and be strong! Beware of that +weakness, the offspring of a miserable vanity, which, claiming too much +for itself, can bestow nothing upon others. Strive only to meet the +exigency, and you will do more--you will pass beyond it. Ask not what +your fame requires--the poor fame of a solitary man struggling like an +atom in the bosom of the great struggling world--ask only what is due +to the task which you have assumed, and labor to do that. This is +the simple, small secret, but be sure it is the one which is of more +importance than all beside." + +The departure of William Hinkley from his native village was kept a +profound secret from all persons except his adopted father and his bosom +friend and cousin, Fisherman Ned. We have lost sight of this young man +for several pages, and, in justice equally to the reader and himself, it +is necessary that we should hurriedly retrace our progress, at least so +far as concerns his. We left him, if we remember, having driven Alfred +Stevens from his purpose, riding on alone, really with no other aim than +to give circulation to his limbs and fancies. His ride, if we are to +believe his random but significant words, and his very knowing looks, +was not without its results. He had certainly made some discoveries--at +least he thought and said so; but, in truth, we believe these amounted +to nothing more than some plausible conjectures as to the route which +Alfred Stevens was in the habit of pursuing, on those excursions, in +which the neighbors were disposed to think that there was something +very mysterious. He certainly had jumped to the conclusion that, on such +occasions, the journey of Stevens was prolonged to Ellisland; and, as +such a ride was too long for one of mere pleasure and exercise, the next +conclusion was, that such a journey had always some business in it. + +Now, a business that calls for so much secrecy, in a young student of +theology, was certainly one that could have very little relation to the +church. So far as Ned Hinkley knew anything of the Decalogue it could +not well relate to that. There was nothing in St. Paul that required +him to travel post to Ellisland; though a voyage to Tarsus might be +justified by the authority of that apostle; and the whole proceeding, +therefore, appeared to be a mystery in which gospelling had very little +to do. Very naturally, having arrived at this conclusion, Ned Hinkley +jumped to another. If the saints have nothing to do with this journey +of Alfred Stevens, the sinners must have. It meant mischief--it was a +device of Satan; and the matter seemed so clearly made out to his own +mind, that he returned home with the further conviction, which was +equally natural and far more easily arrived at, that he was now bound +by religion, as he had previously been impelled by instinct, to give +Stevens "a regular licking the very first chance that offered." Still, +though determined on this measure, he was not unmindful of the necessity +of making other discoveries; and he returned to Charlemont with a +countenance big with importance and almost black with mystery. + +But the events which had taken place in his absence, and which we have +already related, almost put his own peculiar purposes out of his mind. +That William Hinkley should have cowskinned Stevens would have been much +more gratifying to him could he have been present; and he was almost +disposed to join with the rest in their outcry against this sacrilegious +proceeding, for the simple reason, that it somewhat anticipated his own +rigorous intentions to the same effect. He was not less dissatisfied +with the next attempt for two reasons. + +"You might have known, Bill, that a parson won't fight with pistols. You +might have persuaded him to fist or cudgel, to a fair up and down, hand +over, fight! That's not so criminal, they think. I heard once of Brother +John Cross, himself trying a cudgel bout with another parson down +in Mississippi, because he took the same text out of his mouth, and +preached it over the very same day, with contrary reason. Everybody said +that John Cross served him right, and nobody blamed either. But they +would have done so if pistols had been used. You can't expect parsons +or students of religion to fight with firearms. Swords, now, they think +justifiable, for St. Peter used them; but we read nowhere in Old or New +Testament of their using guns, pistols, or rifles." + +"But he consented to fight, and brought his own pistols, Ned?" + +"Why, then, didn't you fight? That's the next thing I blame you +for--that, when you were both ready, and had the puppies in your hands, +you should have stood looking at each other without taking a crack. By +jingo, had there been fifty fathers and mothers in the bush, I'd have +had a crack at him. No, I blame you, William--I can't help it. You +didn't do right. Oh! if you had only waited for me, and let me have +fixed it, how finely we would have managed. What then, if your father +had burst in, it was only shifting the barkers from your hands to mine. +I'd have banged at him, though John Cross himself, and all his flock, +stood by and kneed it to prevent me. They might have prayed to all +eternity without stopping me, I tell you." + +William Hinkley muttered something about the more impressive sort of +procedure which his father had resorted to, and a little soreness about +the parietal bones just at that moment giving a quick impatient air to +his manner, had the effect of putting an end to all further discussion +of this topic. Fisherman Ned concluded with a brief assurance, meant +as consolation, that, when he took up the cudgels, his cousin need make +himself perfectly easy with the conviction that he would balance both +accounts very effectually. He had previously exhorted William to renew +the attempt, though with different weapons, to bring his enemy into the +field; but against this attempt Mr. Calvert had already impressively +enjoined him; exacting from him a promise that he would not seek +Stevens, and would simply abide any call for satisfaction which the +latter might make. The worthy old man was well assured that in Stevens's +situation there was very little likelihood of a summons to the field +from him. + +Still, William Hinkley did not deem it becoming in him to leave the +ground for several days, even after his preparations for departure were +complete. He loitered in the neighborhood, showed himself frequently +to his enemy, and, on some of these occasions, was subjected to the +mortification of beholding the latter on his way to the house of +Margaret Cooper, with whom, a few moments after, he might be seen in +lonely rambles by the lake-side and in the wood. William had conquered +his hopes from this quarter, but he vainly endeavored to suppress his +pangs. + +At length the morning came for his departure. He had seen his mother for +the last time the night before. They had met at the house of the widow +Hinkley, between which and that of Calvert, his time had been chiefly +spent, since the day of his affair with Stevens. His determination to +depart was carefully concealed from his mother. He dreaded to hear +her entreaties, and he doubted his own strength to endure them. His +deportment, however, was sufficiently fond and tender, full of pain and +passion, to have convinced her, had she been at all suspicious of the +truth, of the design he meditated. But, as it was, it simply satisfied +her affections; and the fond "good night" with which he addressed her +ears at parting, was followed by a gush of tears which shocked the more +sturdy courage of his cousin, and aroused the suspicions of the widow. + +"William Hinkley," she said after the mother had gone home--"you must be +thinking to leave Charlemont. I'm sure of it--I know it." + +"If you do, say nothing, dear cousin; it will do no good--it can not +prevent me now, and will only make our parting more painful." + +"Oh, don't fear me," said the widow--"I shan't speak of it, till it's +known to everybody, for I think you right to go and do just as Gran'pa +Calvert tells you; but you needn't have made it such a secret with me. +I've always been too much of your friend to say a word." + +"Alas!" said the youth mournfully, "until lately, dear cousin, I fancied +that I had no friends--do not blame me, therefore, if I still sometimes +act as if I had none." + +"You have many friends, William, already--I'm sure you will find many +more wherever you go; abler friends if not fonder ones, than you leave +behind you." + +The youth threw his arms round the widow's neck and kissed her tenderly. +Her words sounded in his ears like some melodious prophecy. + +"Say no more, cousin," he exclaimed with sudden enthusiasm; "I am so +well pleased to believe what you promise me of the future, that I am +willing to believe all. God bless you. I will never forget you." + +The parting with Calvert was more touching in reality, but with fewer of +the external signs of feeling. A few words, a single embrace and squeeze +of the hand, and they separated; the old man hiding himself and his +feelings in the dimness of his secluded abode, while his adopted son, +with whom Ned Hinkley rode a brief distance on his way, struck spurs +into his steed, as if to lose, in the rapid motion of the animal, the +slow, sad feelings which were pressing heavily upon his heart. He had +left Charlemont for ever. He had left it under circumstances of doubt, +and despondency--stung by injustice, and baffled in the first ardent +hopes of his youthful mind. "The world was all before him, where to +choose." Let us not doubt that the benignant Providence is still his +guide. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +CONQUEST. + + + + + +The progress of events and our story necessarily brings as back to +Charlemont. We shall lose sight of William Hinkley, henceforth Calvert, +for some time; and here, par parenthese, let us say to our readers +that this story being drawn from veritable life, will lack some of that +compactness and close fitness of parts which make our novels too +much resemble the course of a common law case. Instead of having our +characters always at hand, at the proper moment, to do the business of +the artist, like so many puppets, each working on a convenient wire, and +waiting to be whistled in upon the scene, we shall find them sometimes +absent, as we do in real life when their presence is most seriously +desired, and when the reader would perhaps prefer that they should come +in, to meet or make emergencies. Some are gone whom we should rather +see; some present, whose absence, in the language of the Irishman, would +be the best company they could give us; and some, not forthcoming, like +the spirits of Owen Glendower, even when most stoutly called for. The +vast deeps of human progress do not release their tenants at the beck +and call of ordinary magicians, and we, who endeavor to describe events +as we find them, must be content to take them and persons, too, only +when they are willing. Were we writing the dramatic romance, we should +be required to keep William Hinkley always at hand, as a convenient foil +to Alfred Stevens. He should watch his progress; pursue his sinuosities +of course; trace him out in all his ill-favored purposes, and be +ready, at the first act--having, like the falcon, by frequent and +constantly-ascending gyrations, reached the point of command--to pounce +down upon the fated quarry, and end the story and the strife together. +But ours is a social narrative, where people come and go without much +regard to the unities, and without asking leave of the manager. William +Hinkley, too, is a mere man and no hero. He has no time to spare, and he +is conscious that he has already wasted too much. He has work to do and +is gone to do it. Let it console the reader, in his absence, to know +that he WILL do it--that his promise is a good one--and that we have +already been shown, in the dim perspective of the future, glimpses of +his course which compensate him for his mishaps, and gladden the heart +of his adopted father, by confirming its prophecies and hopes. + +The same fates which deny that he should realize the first fancies of +his boyhood, are, in the end, perhaps, not a jot kinder to others whom +they now rather seem to favor. His absence did not stop the social +machine of Charlemont from travelling on very much as before. There was +a shadow over his mother's heart, and his disappearance rather aroused +some misgiving and self-reproachful sensations in that of his father. +Mr. Calvert, too, had his touch of hypochondria in consequence of his +increased loneliness, and Ned Hinkley's fighting monomania underwent +startling increase; but, with the rest, the wheel went on without much +sensible difference. The truth is, that, however mortifying the truth +may be, the best of us makes but a very small sensation in his absence. +Death is a longer absence, in which our friends either forget us, or +recollect our vices. Our virtues are best acknowledged when we are +standing nigh and ready to enforce them. Like the argumentative +eloquence of the Eighth Harry, they are never effectual until the +halberdiers clinch their rivets forcibly. + +It does not necessarily impugn the benevolence or wisdom of Providence +to show that crime is successful for a season in its purposes. Vice may +prevail, and victims perish, without necessarily disparaging the career, +or impeding the progress of virtue. To show that innocence may fall, +is sometimes to strengthen innocence, so that it may stand against +all assailants. To show vice, even in its moments of success, is not +necessarily to show that such success is desirable. Far from it! As none +of us can look very deeply into the future, so it happens that the boon +for which we pray sometimes turns out to be our bane; while the hardship +and suffering, whose approach we deprecate in sackcloth and ashes, may +come with healing on their wings, and afford us a dearer blessing +than any ever yet depicted in the loom of a sanguine and brilliant +imagination. + +We are, after all, humbling as this fact may be to our clamorous vanity, +only so many agents and instruments, blind, and scuffling vainly in our +blindness, in the perpetual law of progress. As a soul never dies, so it +is never useless or unemployed. The Deity is no more profligate in the +matter of souls than he is in that of seeds. They pass, by periodical +transitions, from body to body; perhaps from sphere to sphere; and as +the performance of their trusts have been praiseworthy or censurable, +so will be the character of their trusts in future. He who has shown +himself worthy of confidence in one state, will probably acquire a +corresponding increase of responsibility in another. He who has betrayed +his trusts or impaired them, will share less of the privileges of the +great moral credit system. + +In all these transitions, however, work is to be done. The fact that +there is a trust, implies duty and performance; and the practice of +virtue is nothing more than the performance of this work to the best of +our abilities. Well, we do not do our work. We fail in our trusts. We +abuse tuem. Such a man as Alfred Stevens abuses them. Such a woman as +Margaret Cooper fails in them. What then? Do we destroy the slave who +fails in his duty, or chasten him, and give him inferior trusts? Do you +suppose that the Deity is more profligate in souls than in seeds--that +he creates and sends forth millions of new souls, annually, in place of +those which have gone astray? Hardly so! He is too good an economist for +that. We learn this from all the analogies. As a soul can not perish, +so it never remains unemployed. It still works, though its labors may be +confined to a treadmill. + +The mere novel-reader may regard all this as so much unnecessary +digression. But let him not deceive himself. It would be the most +humiliating and painful thought, indeed, could we believe that the +genius which informs and delights us--which guides the bark of state +through a thousand storms and dangers to its port of safety--which +conquers and commands--which sings in melodies that make melodies +in human hearts for thousands of succeeding years--is suddenly to be +suspended--to have no more employment--to do no more work--guide no more +states--make no more melodies! Nay, the pang would be scarcely less to +believe that a fair intellect like that of Alfred Stevens, or a wild, +irregular genius, like that of Margaret Cooper--because of its erring, +either through perversity or blindness, is wholly to become defunct, +so far as employment is concerned--that they are to be deprived of all +privilege of working up to the lost places--regaining the squandered +talents--atoning, by industry and humble desire, the errors and +deficiencies of the past! We rather believe that heaven is a world where +the labors are more elevated, the necessities less degrading; that it +is no more permanent than what we esteem present life; nay, that it is +destined to other transitions; that we may still ascend, on and on, +and that each heaven has its higher heaven yet. We believe that our +immortality is from the beginning; that time is only a periodical step +in eternity----that transition is the true meaning of life--and death +nothing more than a sign of progress. It may be an upward or a downward +progress, but it is not a toilsome march to a mere sleep. Lavish as is +the bounty of God, and boundless as are his resources, there is +nothing of him that we do know which can justify the idea of such utter +profligacy of material. + +We transgress. Our business is with the present doings of our dramatis +persons and not with the future employment of their souls. Still, we +believe, the doctrine which we teach not only to be more rational, but +absolutely more moral than the conjectures on this subject which are +in ordinary use. More rational as relates to the characteristics of the +Deity, and more moral as it affects the conduct and the purposes of +man himself. There is something grand beyond all things else, in the +conception of this eternal progress of the individual nature; its +passage from condition to condition; sphere to sphere; life to life; +always busy, working for the mighty Master; falling and sinking to mere +menial toils, or achieving and rising to more noble trusts; but, at all +events, still working in some way in the great world-plantation, and +under the direct eye of the sovereign World-Planter. The torture of +souls on the one hand, and the singing of psalms on the other, may +be doctrines infinitely more orthodox; but, to our mind, they seem +immeasurably inferior in grandeur, in propriety, in noble conception of +the appointments of the creature, and the wondrous and lovely designs of +the benignant Father. + +The defeat of such a soul as that of Margaret Cooper can surely be a +temporary defeat only. It will regain strength, it must rise in the +future, it must recover the lost ground, and reassert the empire whose +sway it has unwillingly abandoned; for it is not through will, +wholly, by which we lose the moral eminence. Something is due to human +weaknesses; to the blindness in which a noble spirit is sometimes +suffered to grow into stature; disproportioned stature--that, reaching +to heaven, is yet shaken down and overthrown by the merest breath of +storm that sweeps suddenly beneath its skies. The very hopelessness of +Margaret Cooper's ambition, which led her to misanthropy, was the source +of an ever-fertile and upspringing confidence. Thus it was that the +favoring opinions which Alfred Stevens expressed--a favoring opinion +expressed by one whom she soon discovered was well able to form +one--accompanied by an assurance that the dream of fame which her wild +imagination had formed should certainly be realized, gave him a large +power over her confidence. Her passion was sway--the sway of mind over +mind--of genius over sympathy--of the syren Genius over the subject +Love. It was this passion which had made her proud, which had filled +her mind with visions, and yielded to her a world by itself, and like +no other, filled with all forms of worship and attraction; chivalrous +faith, unflagging zeal, generous confidence, pure spirits, and the most +unquestioning loyalty! Ignorant of the world which she had not seen, and +of those movements of human passion which she had really never felt, she +naturally regarded Alfred Stevens as one of the noble representatives +of that imaginary empire which her genius continually brought before her +eyes. She saw in him the embodiment of that faith in her intellect which +it was the first and last hope of her intellect to inspire; and seeing +thus, it will be easy to believe that her full heart, which, hitherto, +had poured itself forth on rocks, and trees, and solitary places, +forgetful of all prudence--a lesson which she had never learned--and +rejoicing in the sympathy of a being like herself, now gushed forth +with all the volume of its impatient fullness. The adroit art of her +companion led her for ever into herself; she was continually summoned to +pour forth the treasures of her mind and soul; and, toiling in the same +sort of egoisme in which her life heretofore had been consumed, she +was necessarily diverted from all doubts or apprehensions of the occult +purposes of him who had thus beguiled her over the long frequented +paths. As the great secret of success with the mere worldling, is to pry +into the secret of his neighbor while carefully concealing his own, so +it is the great misfortune of enthusiasm to be soon blinded to a purpose +which its own ardent nature neither allows it to suspect nor penetrate. +Enthusiasm is a thing of utter confidence; it has no suspicion; it sets +no watch on other hearts; it is too constantly employed in pouring forth +the treasures of its own. It is easy, therefore, to deceive and betray +it, to beguile it into confidence, and turn all its revelations against +itself. How far the frequency of this usage in the world makes it +honorable, is a question which we need not discuss on this occasion. + +Alfred Stevens had now been for some weeks in the village of Charlemont, +where, in the meantime, he had become an object of constantly-increasing +interest. The men shrank from him with a feeling of inferiority; the +women--the young ones being understood--shrank from him also, but +with that natural art of the sex which invites pursuit, and strives +to conquer even in flight. But it was soon evident enough that Stevens +bestowed his best regards solely upon Margaret Cooper. If he sought +the rest, it was simply in compliance with those seeming duties of his +ostensible profession which were necessary to maintain appearances. +Whether he loved Margaret Cooper or not, he soon found a pleasure in +her society which he sought for in no other quarter of the village. The +days, in spite of the strife with William Hinkley, flew by with equal +pleasantness and rapidity to both. The unsophisticated mind of +Margaret Cooper left her sensible to few restraints upon their ordinary +intercourse; and, indeed, if she did know or regard them for an instant, +it was only to consider them as necessary restraints for the protection +of the ignorant and feeble of her sex--a class in which she never once +thought to include herself. Her attachment to Alfred Stevens, though +it first arose from the pleasure which her mind derived from its +intercourse with his, and not from any of those nice and curious +sympathies of temperament and taste which are supposed to constitute the +essence and comprise the secret of love, was yet sufficient to blind her +judgment to the risks of feeling, if nothing more, which were likely to +arise from their hourly-increasing intimacy; and she wandered with +him into the devious woods, and they walked by moonlight among +the solemn-shaded hills, and the unconscious girl had no sort of +apprehension that the spells of an enslaving passion were rapidly +passing over her soul. + +How should she apprehend such spells? how break them? For the first time +in her life had she found intellectual sympathy--the only moral response +which her heart longed to hear. For the first time had she encountered +a mind which could do justice to, and correspond on anything like equal +terms with, her own. How could she think that evil would ensue from +an acquisition which yielded her the only communion which she had ever +craved Her confidence in herself, in her own strength, and her ignorance +of her own passions, were sufficient to render her feelings secure; and +then she was too well satisfied of the superiority and nobleness of his. +But, in truth, she never thought upon the subject. Her mind dwelt +only on the divine forms and images of poetry. The ideal world had +superseded, not only the dangers, but the very aspect, of the real. +Under the magic action of her fancy, she had come to dwell + + "With those gay creatures of the element + That in the colors of the rainbow live, + And play i' the plighted clouds"-- + +she had come to speak only in the one language, and of the one topic; +and, believing now that she had an auditor equally able to comprehend +and willing to sympathize with her cravings, she gave free scope to +the utterance of her fancies, and to the headlong impulse of that +imagination which had never felt the curb. + +The young heart, not yet chilled by the world's denials, will readily +comprehend the beguiling influence of the dreaming and enthusiastic +nature of some dear spirit, in whose faith it has full confidence, and +whose tastes are kindred with its own. How sweet the luxury of moonlight +in commerce with such a congenial spirit! how heavenly the occasional +breath of the sweet southwest! how gentle and soothing fond the whispers +of night--the twirling progress of sad-shining stars--the gentle sway of +winds among the tree-tops--the plaintive moan of billows, as they gather +and disperse themselves along the shores! To speak of these delights; +to walk hand-in-hand along the gray sands by the seaside, and whisper in +murmuring tones, that seem to gather sympathies from those of ocean; +to guide the eye of the beloved associate to the sudden object; to +challenge the kindred fancy which comments upon our own; to remember +together, and repeat, the happy verse of inspired poets, speaking of +the scene, and to the awakened heart which feels it; and, more, to pour +forth one's own inspirations in the language of tenderness and song, and +awaken in the heart of our companion the rapture to which our own +has given speech--these, which are subjects of mock and scorn to the +worldling, are substantial though not enduring joys to the young and +ardent nature. + +In this communion, with all her pride, strength, and confidence, +Margaret Cooper was the merest child. Without a feeling of guile, she +was dreaming of the greatness which her ambition craved, and telling her +dreams, with all the artless freedom of the child who has some golden +fancy of the future, which it seeks to have confirmed by the lips +of experience. The wily Stevens led her on, gave stimulus to her +enthusiasm, made her dreams become reasonable in her eyes, and laughed +at them in his secret heart. She sung at his suggestion, and sang her +own verses with all that natural tremor which even the most self-assured +poet feels on such an occasion. + +"Beautiful!" the arch-hypocrite would exclaim, as if unconscious +of utterance; "beautiful!" and his hand would possess itself of the +trembling fingers of hers. "But beautiful as it is, Margaret, I am +sure that it is nothing to what you could do under more auspicious +circumstances." + +"Ah! if there were ears to hear, if there were hearts to feel, and eyes +to weep, I feel, I know, what might be done. No, no! this is nothing. +This is the work of a child." + +"Nay, Margaret, if the work of a child, it is that of a child of +genius." + +"Ah! do not flatter me, Alfred Stevens, do not deceive me. I am too +willing to believe you, for it is so dear a feeling to think that I +too am a poet. Yet, at the first, I had not the smallest notion of this +kind: I neither knew what poetry was, nor felt the desire to be a poet. +Yet I yearned with strange feelings, which uttered themselves in that +form ere I had seen books or read the verses of others. It was an +instinct that led me as it would. I sometimes fear that I have been +foolish in obeying it; for oh, what has it brought me? What am I? what +are my joys? I am lonely even with my companions. I share not the sports +and feel not the things which delight my sex. Their dances and frolics +give me no pleasure. I have no sympathy with them or their cares. I +go apart--I am here on the hills, or deep in the forests--sad, lonely, +scarcely knowing what I am, and what I desire." + +"You are not alone, nor are your pleasures less acute than theirs. If +they laugh, their laughter ends in sleep. If you are sad, you lose not +the slightest faculty of perception or sensibility, but rather gain them +in consequence. Laughter and tears are signs neither of happiness nor +grief, and as frequently result from absolute indifference as from any +active emotion. If you are absent from them, you have better company. +You can summon spirits to your communion, Margaret; noble thoughts +attend you; eyes that cheer, lips that assure you, and whispers, from +unknown attendants, that bid you be of good heart, for the good time is +coming. Ah! Margaret, believe me when I tell you that time is at hand. +Such a genius as yours, such a spirit, can not always be buried in these +woods." + +It was in such artful language as this that the arch-hypocrite flattered +and beguiled her. They were wandering along the edge of the streamlet to +which we have more than once conducted the footsteps of the reader. The +sun was about setting. The autumn air was mild with a gentle breathing +from the south. The woods were still and meek as the slumbers of an +infant. The quiet of the scene harmonized with the temper of their +thoughts and feelings. They sat upon a fragment of the rock. Margaret +was silent, but her eyes were glistening bright--not with hope only, +but with that first glimmering consciousness of a warmer feeling, which +gives a purple light to hope, and makes the heart tremble, for the first +time, with its own expectations. It did not escape Alfred Stevens that, +for the first time, her eye sank beneath his glance; for the first time +there was a slight flush upon her cheek. He was careful not to startle +and alarm the consciousness which these signs indicated. The first +feeling which the young heart has of its dependence upon another is one +little short of terror; it is a feeling which wakens up suspicion, and +puts all the senses upon the watch. To appear to perceive this emotion +is to make it circumspect; to disarm it, one must wear the aspect of +unconsciousness. The wily Stevens, practised in the game, and master of +the nature of the unsuspecting girl, betrayed in his looks none of the +intelligence which he felt. If he uttered himself in the language of +admiration, it was that admiration which would be natural to a profound +adorer of literature and all its professors. His words were those of the +amateur:-- + +"I can not understand, Margaret, how you have studied--how you have +learned so much--your books are few--you have had no masters. I never +met in my life with so remarkable an instance of unassisted endeavor." + +"My books were hero in the woods--among these old rocks. My teacher was +solitude. Ah! there is no teacher like one's own heart. My instinct made +me feel my deficiencies--my deficiencies taught me contemplation--and +from contemplation came thoughts and cravings, and you know, when the +consciousness of our lack is greatest, then, even the dumb man finds a +voice. I found my voice in consequence of my wants. My language you see +is that of complaint only." + +"And a sweet and noble language it is, Margaret; but it is not in poetry +alone that your utterance is so distinct and beautiful--you sing too +with a taste as well as power which would prove that contemplation was +as happy in bringing about perfection in the one as in the other art. +Do sing me, Margaret, that little ditty which you sang here the other +night?" + +His hand gently detained and pressed hers as he urged the request. + +"I would rather not sing to-night," she replied, "I do not feel as if I +could, and I trust altogether to feeling. I will sing for you some other +time when you do not ask, and, perhaps would prefer not to hear me." + +"To hear you at all, Margaret, is music to my ears." + +She was silent, and her fingers made a slight movement to detach +themselves from his. + +"No, Margaret, do not withdraw them! Let me detain them +thus--longer--for ever! My admiration of you has been too deeply felt +not to have been too clearly shown, Your genius is too dear to me now to +suffer me to lose it. Margaret--dear Margaret!" + +She spoke not--her breathing became quick and hard. + +"You do not speak, let me hope that you are not angry with me?" + +"No, no!" she whispered faintly. He continued with more boldness, and +while he spoke, his arm encircled her waist. + +"A blessed chance brought me to your village. I saw you and returned. +I chose a disguise in which I might study you, and see how far the +treasures of your mind confirmed the noble promise of your face. They +have done more. Like him who finds the precious ore among the mountains, +I can not part with you so found. I must tear you from the soil. I must +bear you with me. You must be mine, Margaret--you must go with me where +the world will see, and envy me my prize." + +He pressed her to his bosom. She struggled slightly. + +"Do not, do not, Alfred Stevens, do not press me--do not keep me. You +think too much of me. I am no treasure--alas! this is all deception. You +can not--can not desire it?" + +"Do I not! Ah! Margaret, what else do I desire now? Do you think me only +what I appear in Charlemont?" + +"No! no!" + +"I have the power of a name, Margaret, in my profession--among a +numerous people--and that power is growing into wealth and sway. I am +feared and honored, loved by some, almost worshipped by others; and what +has led me from this sway, to linger among these hills--to waste hours +so precious to ambition--to risk the influence which I had already +secured--what, but a higher impulse--a dearer prospect--a treasure, +Margaret, of equal beauty and genius." + +Her face was hidden upon his bosom. He felt the beating of her heart +against his hand. + +"If you have a genius for song, Margaret Cooper, I, too, am not without +my boast. In my profession, men speak of my eloquence as that of a +genius which has few equals, and no superior." + +"I know it--it must be so!" + +"Move me not to boast, dear Margaret; it is in your ears only that I +do so--and only to assure you that, in listening to my love, you do not +yield to one utterly obscure, and wanting in claims, which, as yours +must be finally, are already held to be established and worthy of the +best admiration of the intelligent and wise. Do you hear me, Margaret?" + +"I do, I do! It must be as you say. But of love I have thought nothing. +No, no! I know not, Alfred Stevens, if I love or not--if I can love." + +"You mistake, Margaret. It is in the heart that the head finds its +inspiration. Mere intellect makes not genius. All the intellect in the +world would fail of this divine consummation. It is from the fountains +of feeling that poetry drinks her inspiration. It is at the altars of +love that the genius of song first bends in adoration. You have loved, +Margaret, from the first moment when you sung. It did not alter the case +that there was no object of sight. The image was in your mind--in your +hope. One sometimes goes through life without ever meeting the human +counterpart of this ideal; and the language of such a heart will be that +of chagrin--distaste of life--misanthropy, and a general scorn of his +own nature. Such, I trust, is not your destiny. No, Margaret, that is +impossible. I take your doubt as my answer, and unless your own lips +undeceive me, dearest Margaret, I will believe that your love is willing +to requite my own." + +She was actually sobbing on his breast. With an effort she struggled +into utterance. + +"My heart is so full, my feelings are so strange--oh! Alfred Stevens, I +never fancied I could be so weak." + +"So weak--to love! surely, Margaret, you mistake the word. It is in +loving only that the heart finds its strength. Love is the heart's +sole business; and not to exercise it in its duties is to impair its +faculties, and deprive it equally of its pleasures and its tasks. Oh, +I will teach you of the uses of this little heart of yours, dear +Margaret--ay, till it grow big with its own capacity to teach. We will +inform each other, every hour, of some new impulses and objects. Our +dreams, our hopes, our fears, and our desires, ah! Margaret--what a +study of love will these afford us. Nor to love only. Ah! dearest, when +your muse shall have its audience, its numerous watching eyes and eager +ears, then shall you discover how much richer will be the strain from +your lips once informed by the gushing fullness of this throbbing +heart." + +She murmured fondly in his embrace, "Ah! I ask no other eyes and ears +than yours." + +In the glow of a new and overpowering emotion, such indeed was her +feeling. He gathered her up closer in his arms. He pressed his lips upon +the rich ripe beauties of hers, as some hungering bee, darting upon the +yet unrifled flower which it first finds in the shadows of the forest, +clings to, and riots on, the luscious loveliness, as if appetite could +only be sated in its exhaustion. She struggled and freed herself from +his embrace: but, returning home that evening her eye was cast upon the +ground; her step was set down hesitatingly; there was a tremor in her +heart; a timid expression in her face and manner! These were proofs of +the discovery which she then seems to have made for the first time, that +there is a power stronger than mere human will--a power that controls +genius; that mocks at fame; feels not the lack of fortune, and is +independent of the loss of friends! She now first knew her weakness. She +had felt the strength of love! Ah! the best of us may quail, whatever +his hardihood, in the day when love asserts HIS strength and goes forth +to victory. + +Margaret Cooper sought her chamber, threw herself on the bed, and turned +her face in the pillow to hide the burning blushes which, with every +movement of thought and memory, seemed to increase upon her cheek. Yet, +while she blushed and even wept, her heart throbbed and trembled with +the birth of a new emotion of joy. Ah! how sweet is our first +secret pleasure--shared by one other only--sweet to that other as to +ourself--so precious to him also. To be carried into our chamber--to be +set up ostentatiously--there, where none but ourselves may see--to be +an object of our constant tendance, careful idolatry, keen suspicion, +delighted worship! + +Ah! but if the other makes it no idol--his toy only--what shall +follow this desecration of the sacred thing! What but shame, remorse, +humiliation, perhaps death!--alas! for Margaret Cooper, the love which +had so suddenly grown into a precious divinity with her, was no divinity +with him. He is no believer. He has no faith in such things, but like +the trader in religion, he can preach deftly the good doctrines which he +can not feel and is slow to practise. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +FALL. + + + + + +We should speak unprofitably and with little prospect of being +understood, did our readers require to be told, that there is a certain +impatient and gnawing restlessness in the heart of love, which keeps it +for ever feverish and anxious. Where this passion is associated with a +warm, enthusiastic genius, owning the poetic temperament, the anxiety +is proportionatly greater. The ideal of the mind is a sort of classical +image of perfect loveliness, chaste, sweet, commanding, but, how cold! +But love gives life to this image, even as the warm rays of the sun +falling upon the sullen lips of the Memnon, compel its utterance in +music. It not only looks beauty--it breathes it. It is not only the +aspect of the Apollo, it is the god himself; his full lyre strung, his +golden bow quivering at his back with the majesty of his motion; and his +lips parting with the song which shall make the ravished spheres stoop, +and gather round to listen. + +Hitherto Margaret Cooper had been a girl of strong will; will nursed +in solitude, and by the wrong-headed indulgence of a vain and foolish +mother. She was conscious of that bounding, bursting soul of genius +which possessed her bosom; that strange, moody, and capricious god; +pent-up, denied, crying evermore for utterance, with a breath more +painful to endure, because of the suppression. This consciousness, with +the feeling of denial which attended it, had cast a gloomy intensity +over her features not less than her mind. The belief that she was +possessed of treasures which were unvalued--that she had powers which +were never to be exercised--that with a song such as might startle an +empire, she was yet doomed to a silent and senseless auditory of rocks +and trees; this belief had brought with it a moody arrogance of temper +which had made itself felt by all around her. In one hour this mood had +departed. Ambition and love became united for a common purpose; for the +object of the latter, was also the profound admirer of the former. + +The anxious restlessness which her newly-acquired sensations occasioned +in her bosom, was not diminished by a renewal of those tender interviews +with her lover, which we have endeavored, though so faultily, already to +describe. Evening after evening found them together; the wily hypocrite +still stimulating, by his glozing artifices, the ruling passion for +fame, which, in her bosom, was only temporarily subservient to +love, while he drank his precious reward from her warm, lovely, and +still-blushing lips and cheeks. The very isolation in which she had +previously dwelt in Charlemont, rendered the society of Stevens still +more dear to her heart. She was no longer alone--no longer unknown--not +now unappreciated in that respect in which hitherto she felt her great +denial. "Here is one--himself a genius--who can do justice to mine." + +The young poet who finds an auditor, where he has never had one before, +may be likened to a blind man suddenly put in possession of his sight. +He sees sun and moon and stars, the forms of beauty, the images of +grace; and his soul grows intoxicated with the wonders of its new +empire. What does he owe to him who puts him in possession of these +treasures? who has given him his sight? Love, devotion, all that his +full heart has to pay of homage and affection. + +Such was very much the relation which Margaret Cooper bore to Alfred +Stevens; and when, by his professions of love, he left the shows of his +admiration no longer doubtful, she was at once and entirely his. She was +no longer the self-willed, imperious damsel, full of defiance, dreaming +of admiration only, scornful of the inferior, and challenging the +regards of equals. She was now a timid, trembling girl--a dependant, +such as the devoted heart must ever be, waiting for the sign to speak, +looking eagerly for the smile to reward her sweetest utterance. If now +she walked with Stevens, she no longer led the way; she hung a little +backward, though she grasped his arm--nay, even when her hand was +covered with a gentle pressure in the folds of his. If she sung, she did +not venture to meet his eyes, which she FELT must be upon hers, and now +it was no longer her desire that the village damsels should behold them +as they went forth together on their rambles. She no longer met their +cunning and significant smiles with confidence and pride, but with +faltering looks, and with cheeks covered with blushes. Great, indeed, +was the change which had come over that once proud spirit--change +surprising to all, but as natural as any other of the thousand changes +which are produced in the progress of moments by the arch-magician, +Love. Heretofore, her song had disdained the ordinary topics of the +youthful ballad-monger. She had uttered her apostrophes to the eagle, +soaring through the black, billowy masses of the coming thunder-storm; +to the lonely but lofty rock, lonely in its loftiness, which no foot +travelled but her own; to the silent glooms of the forest--to the +majesty of white-bearded and majestic trees. The dove and the zephyr +now shared her song, and a deep sigh commonly closed it. She was changed +from what she was. The affections had suddenly bounded into being, +trampling the petty vanities underfoot; and those first lessons of +humility which are taught by love, had subdued a spirit which, hitherto, +had never known control. + +Alfred Stevens soon perceived how complete was his victory. He soon +saw the extent of that sudden change which had come over her character. +Hitherto, she had been the orator. When they stood together by the +lake-side, or upon the rock, it was her finger which had pointed out the +objects for contemplation; it was her voice whose eloquence had charmed +the ear, dilating upon the beauties or the wonders which they surveyed. +She was now no longer eloquent in words. But she looked a deeper +eloquence by far than any words could embody. He was now the speaker; +and regarding him through the favoring media of kindled affections, it +seemed to her ear, that there was no eloquence so sweet as his. He spoke +briefly of the natural beauties by which they were surrounded. + +"Trees, rocks, the valley and the hill, all realms of solitude and +shade, inspire enthusiasm and ardor in the imaginative spirit. They are +beneficial for this purpose. For the training of a great poet they are +necessary. They have the effect of lifting the mind to the contemplation +of vastness, depth, height, profundity. This produces an intensity of +mood--the natural result of any association between our own feelings and +such objects as are lofty and noble in the external world. The feelings +and passions as they are influenced by the petty play of society, +which diffuses their power and breaks their lights into little, become +concentrated on the noble and the grand. Serious earnestness of nature +becomes habitual--the heart flings itself into all the subjects of its +interest--it trifles with none--all its labors become sacred in its +eyes, and the latest object of study and analysis is that which is +always most important. The effect of this training in youth on the +poetic mind, is to the last degree beneficial; since, without a degree +of seriousness amounting to intensity--without a hearty faith in the +importance of what is to be done--without a passionate fullness of +soul which drives one to his task--there will be no truthfulness, no +eloquence, no concentrated thought and permanent achievement. With, you, +dear Margaret, such has already been the effect. You shrink from the +ordinary enjoyments of society. Their bald chat distresses you, as the +chatter of so many jays. You prefer the solitude which feeds the serious +mood which you love, and enables your imagination, unrepressed by +the presence of shallow witlings, to evoke its agents from storm and +shadow--from deep forest and lonesome lake--to minister to the cravings +of an excited heart, and a soaring and ambitious fancy." + +"Oh, how truly, Alfred, do you speak it," she murmured as he closed. + +"So far, so good; but, dear Margaret--there are other subjects of study +which are equally necessary for the great poet. The wild aspects of +nature are such as are of use in the first years of his probation. To +grow up in the woods and among the rocks, so that a hearty simplicity, +an earnest directness, with a constant habit of contemplation should be +permanently formed, is a first and necessary object. But it is in this +training as in every other. There are successive steps. There is a law +of progressive advance. You must not stop there. The greatest moral +study for the poet must follow. This is the study of man in society--in +the great world--where he puts on a thousand various aspects--far other +than those which are seen in the country--in correspondence with the +thousand shapes of fortune, necessity, or caprice, which attend him +there. Indeed, it may safely be said, that he never knows one half of +the responsibility of his tasks who toils without the presence of those +for whom he toils. It is in the neighborhood of man that we feel his and +our importance. It is while we are watching his strifes and struggles +that we see the awful importance of his destiny; and the great trusts of +self, and truth, and the future, which have been delivered to his hands. +Here you do not see man. You see certain shapes, which are employed in +raising hay, turnips, and potatoes; which eat and drink very much as man +does; but which, as they suffer to sleep and rest most of those latent +faculties, the exercise of which can alone establish the superiority of +the intellectual over the animal nature, so they have no more right +to the name of man than any other of those animals who eat as +industriously, and sleep as profoundly, as themselves. The contemplation +of the superior being, engaged in superior toils, awakens superior +faculties in the observer. He who sees nothing but the gathering of +turnips will think of nothing but turnips. As we enlarge the sphere +of our observation, the faculty of thought becomes expanded. You will +discover this wonderful change when you go into the world. Hitherto, +your inspirers have been these groves, these rocks, lakes, trees, +and silent places. But, when you sit amid crowds of bright-eyed, +full-minded, and admiring people; when you see the eyes of thousands +looking for the light to shine from yours; hanging, with a delight that +still hungers, on the words of truth and beauty which fall from your +lips--then, then only, dearest Margaret, will you discover the true +sources of inspiration and of fame." + +"Ah!" she murmured despondingly--"you daunt me when you speak of these +crowds--crowds of the intellectual and the wise. What should I be--how +would I appear among them?" + +"As you appear to me, Margaret--their queen, their idol, their divinity, +not less a beauty than a muse?" + +The raptures which Stevens expressed seemed to justify the embrace which +followed it; and it was some moments before she again spoke. When she +did the same subject was running in her mind. + +"Ah! Alfred, still I fear!" + +"Fear nothing, Margaret. It will be as I tell you--as I promise! If I +deceive you, I deceive myself. Is it not for the wife of my bosom that I +expect this homage?" + +Her murmurs were unheard. They strolled on--still deeper into the +mazes of the forest, and the broad disk of the moon, suddenly gleaming, +yellow, through the tops of the trees, surprised them in their +wanderings. + +"How beautiful!" he exclaimed. "Let us sit here, dearest Margaret. +The rock here is smooth and covered with the softest lichen. A perfect +carpet of it is at our feet, and the brooklet makes the sweetest +murmuring as it glides onward through the grove, telling all the while, +like some silly schoolgirl, where you may look for it. See the little +drops of moonlight falling here--and there in the small openings of the +forest, and lying upon the greensward like so many scattered bits of +silver. One might take it for fairy coin. And, do you note the soft +breeze that seems to rise with the moon as from some Cytherean isle, +breathing of love, love only--love never perishing!" + +"Ah! were it so, Alfred!" + +"Is it not, Margaret? If I could fancy that you would cease to love me +or I you--could I think that these dear joys were to end--but no! no! +let us not think of it. It is too sweet to believe, and the distrust +seems as unholy as it is unwholesome. That bright soft planet seems to +persuade to confidence as it inspires love. Do you not feel your heart +soften in the moonlight, Margaret? your eye glistens, dearest--and +your heart, I know, must be touched. It is--I feel its beating! What a +tumult, dear Margaret, is here!" + +"Do not, do not!" she murmured, gently striving to disengage herself +from his grasp. + +"No! no!--move not, dearest," he replied in a subdued tone--a murmur +most like hers. "Are we not happy? Is there anything, dear Margaret, +which we could wish for?" + +"Nothing! nothing!" + +"Ah! what a blessed chance it was that brought me to these hills. I +never lived till now. I had my joys, Margaret--my triumphs! I freely +yield them to the past! I care for them no more! They are no longer joys +or triumphs! Yes, Margaret you have changed my heart within me. Even +fame which I so much worshipped is forgotten." + +"Say not that; oh, say not that!" she exclaimed, but still in subdued +accents. + +"I must--it is too far true. I could give up the shout of applause--the +honor of popular favor--the voice of a people's approbation--the shining +display and the golden honor--all, dear Margaret, sooner than part with +you." + +"But you need not give them up, Alfred." + +"Ah, dearest, but I have no soul for them now. You are alone my soul, my +saint--the one dear object, desire, and pride, and conquest." + +"Alas! and have you not conquered, Alfred?" + +"Sweet! do I not say that I am content to forfeit all honors, triumphs, +applauses--all that was so dear to me before--and only in the fond +faith that I had conquered? You are mine--you tell me so with your dear +lips--I have you in my fond embrace--ah! do not talk to me again of +fame." + +"I were untrue to you as to myself, dear Alfred, did I not. No! with +your talents, to forego their uses--to deliver yourself up to love +wholly, were as criminal as it would be unwise." + +"You shall be my inspiration then, dear Margaret. These lips shall send +me to the forum--these eyes shall reward me with smiles when I return. +Your applause shall be to me a dearer triumph than all the clamors of +the populace." + +"Let us return home--it is late." + +"Not so!--and why should we go? What is sleep to us but loss? What the +dull hours, spent after the ordinary fashion, among ordinary people. +Could any scene be more beautiful than this--ah! can any feeling be more +sweet? Is it not so to you, dearest? tell me--nay, do not tell me--if +you love as I do, you can not leave me--not now--not thus--while such is +the beauty of earth and heaven--while such are the rich joys clustering +in our hearts. Nay, while, in that hallowing moonlight, I gaze upon thy +dark eyes, and streaming hair, thy fair, beautiful cheeks, and those +dear rosy lips!" + +"Oh! Alfred, do not speak so--do not clasp me thus. Let us go. It is +late--very late, and what will they say?" + +"Let them say! Are we not blessed? Can all their words take from us +these blessings--these sacred, sweet, moments--such joys, such delights? +Let them dream of such, with their dull souls if they can. No! no! +Margaret--we are one! and thus one, our world is as free from their +control as it is superior to their dreams and hopes. Here is our heaven, +Margaret--ah! how long shall it be ours! at what moment may we lose it, +by death, by storm, by what various mischance! What profligacy to fly +before the time! No! no! but a little while longer--but a little while!" + +And there they lingered! He, fond, artful, persuasive; she, trembling +with the dangerous sweetness of wild, unbidden emotions. Ah! why did she +not go? Why was the strength withheld which would have carried out her +safer purpose? The moon rose until she hung in the zenith, seeming to +linger there in a sad, sweet watch, like themselves--the rivulet ran +along, still prattling through the groves; the breeze, which had been a +soft murmur among the trees at the first rising of the moon, now blew +a shrill whistle among the craggy hills; but they no longer heard the +prattle of the rivulet--even the louder strains of the breeze were +unnoticed, and it was only when they were about to depart, that poor +Margaret discovered that the moon had all the while been looking down +upon them. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +THE BIRTH OF THE AGONY. + + + + + +It was now generally understood in Charlemont that Margaret Cooper had +made a conquest of the handsome stranger. We have omitted--as a matter +not congenial to our taste--the small by-play which had been carried on +by the other damsels of the village to effect the same object. There had +been setting of caps, without number, ay, and pulling them too, an the +truth were known among the fair Stellas and Clarissas, the Daphnes and +Dorises, of Charlemont, but, though Stevens was sufficiently considerate +of the claims of each, so far as politeness demanded it, and contrived +to say pleasant things, pour passer le temps, with all of them, it was +very soon apparent to the most sanguine, that the imperial beauties and +imperious mind of Margaret Cooper had secured the conquest for herself. + +As a matter of course, the personal and intellectual attractions of +Stevens underwent no little disparagement as soon as this fact was +known. It was now universally understood that he was no such great +things, after all; and our fair friend the widow Thackeray, who was not +without her pretensions to wit and beauty, was bold enough to say that +Mr. Stevens was certainly too fat in the face, and she rather thought +him stupid. Such an opinion gave courage to the rest, and pert Miss +Bella Tompkins, a romp of first-rate excellence, had the audacity to say +that he squinted!--and this opinion was very natural, since neither of +his eyes had ever rested with satisfaction on her pouting charms. + +It may be supposed that the discontent of the fair bevy, and its +unfavorable judgment of himself, did not reach the ears of Alfred +Stevens, and would scarcely have disturbed them if it did. Margaret +Cooper was more fortunate than himself in this respect. She could not +altogether be insensible to the random remarks which sour envy and +dark-eyed jealousy continued to let fall in her hearing; but her scorn +for the speakers, and her satisfaction with herself, secured her from +all annoyance from this cause. Such, at least, had been the case in the +first days of her conquest. Such was not exactly the case now. She had +no more scorn of others. She was no longer proud, no longer strong. Her +eyes no longer flashed with haughty defiance on the train which, though +envious, were yet compelled to follow. She could no longer speak in +those superior tones, the language equally of a proud intellect, and +a spirit whose sensibilities had neither been touched by love nor +enfeebled by anxiety and apprehension. A sad change had come over her +heart and all her features in the progress of a few days. Her courage +had departed. Her step was no longer firm; her eye no longer uplifted +like that of the mountain-eagle, to which, in the first darings of her +youthful muse, she had boldly likened herself. Her look was downcast, +her voice subdued; she was now not less timid than the feeblest damsel +of the village in that doubtful period of life when, passing from +childhood to girlhood, the virgin falters, as it were, with bashful +thoughts, upon the threshold of a new and perilous condition. The +intercourse of Margaret Cooper with her lover had had the most serious +effect upon her manners and her looks. But the change upon her spirit +was no less striking to all. + +"I'm sure if I did love any man," was the opinion of one of the damsels, +"I'd die sooner than show it to him, as she shows it to Alfred Stevens. +It's a guess what he must think of it." + +"And no hard guess neither," said another; "I reckon there's no reason +why he should pick out Margaret Cooper except that he saw that it was no +such easy matter any where else." + +"Well! there can be no mistake about it with them; for now they're +always together--and Betty, her own maid, thinks--but it's better not to +say!" + +And the prudent antique pursed up her mouth in a language that said +everything. + +"What!--what does she say?" demanded a dozen voices. + +"Well! I won't tell you that. I won't tell you all; but she does say, +among other things, that the sooner John Cross marries them, the better +for all parties." + +"Is it possible!" + +"Can it be!" + +"Bless me! but I always thought something wrong." + +"And Betty, her own maid, told you? Well, who should know, if she +don't?" + +"And this, too, after all her airs!" + +"Her great smartness, her learning, and verse-making! I never knew any +good come from books yet." + +"And never will, Jane," said another, with an equivocal expression, +with which Jane was made content; and, after a full half-hour's +confabulation, in the primitive style, the parties separated--each, +in her way, to give as much circulation to Betty's inuendoes as the +importance of the affair deserved. + +Scandal travels along the highways, seen by all but the victim. Days and +nights passed; and in the solitude of lonely paths, by the hillside or +the rivulet, Margaret Cooper still wandered with her lover. She heard +not the poisonous breath which was already busy with her virgin fame. +She had no doubts, whatever might be the event, that the heart of Alfred +Stevens could leave her without that aliment which, in these blissful +moments, seemed to be her very breath of life. But she felt many fears, +many misgivings, she knew not why. A doubt, a cloud of anxiety, hung +brooding on the atmosphere. In a heart which is unsophisticated, the +consciousness, however vague, that all is not right, is enough to +produce this cloud; but, with the gradual progress of that heart to the +indulgence of the more active passions, this consciousness necessarily +increases and the conflict then begins between the invading passion and +the guardian principle. We have seen enough to know what must be +the result of such a conflict with a nature such as hers, under the +education which she had received. It did not end in the expulsion of her +lover. It did not end in the discontinuance of those long and frequent +rambles amid silence, and solitude, and shadow. She had not courage +for this; and the poor, vain mother, flattered with the idea that her +son-in-law would be a preacher, beheld nothing wrong in their nightly +wanderings, and suffered her daughter, in such saintly society, to go +forth without restraint or rebuke. + +There was one person in the village who was not satisfied that Margaret +Cooper should fall a victim, either to the cunning of another, or to her +own passionate vanity. This was our old friend Calvert. He was rather, +inclined to be interested in the damsel, in spite of the ill treatment +of his protege, if it were only in consequence of the feelings with +which she had inspired him. It has been seen that, in the affair of the +duel, he was led to regard the stranger with an eye of suspicion. This +feeling had been further heightened by the statements of Ned Hinkley, +which, however loose and inconclusive, were yet of a kind to show that +there was some mystery about Stevens--that he desired concealment in +some respects--a fact very strongly inferred from his non-employment +of the village postoffice, and the supposition--taken for true--that he +employed that of some distant town. Ned Hinkley had almost arrived at +certainty in this respect; and some small particulars which seemed +to bear on this conviction, which he had recently gathered, taken +in connection with the village scandal in reference to the parties, +determined the old man to take some steps in the matter to forewarn +the maiden, or at least her mother, of the danger of yielding too much +confidence to one of whom so little was or could be known. + +It was a pleasant afternoon, and Calvert was sitting beneath his +roof-tree, musing over this very matter, when he caught a glimpse of +the persons of whom he thought, ascending one of the distant hills, +apparently on their way to the lake. He rose up instantly, and, seizing +his staff, hurried off to see the mother of the damsel. The matter was +one of the nicest delicacy--not to be undertaken lightly--not to be +urged incautiously. Nothing, indeed, but a strong sense of duty could +have determined him upon a proceeding likely to appear invidious, +and which might be so readily construed, by a foolish woman, into an +impertinence. Though a man naturally of quick, warm feelings, +Calvert had been early taught to think cautiously--indeed, the modern +phrenologist would have said that, in the excess of this prudent organ +lay the grand weakness of his moral nature. This delayed him in the +contemplated performance much longer than his sense of its necessity +seemed to justify. Having now resolved, however, and secure in the +propriety of his object, he did not scruple any longer. + +A few minutes sufficed to bring him to the cottage of the old lady, and +her voice in very friendly tenor commanded him to enter. Without useless +circumlocution, yet without bluntness, the old man broached the subject; +and, without urging any of the isolated facts of which he was possessed, +and by which his suspicions were awakened, he dwelt simply upon the +dangers which might result from such a degree of confidence as was given +to the stranger. The long, lonely rambles in the woods, by night as well +as day, were commented on, justly, but in an indulgent spirit; and the +risks of a young and unsuspecting maiden, under such circumstances, were +shown with sufficient distinctness for the comprehension of the mother, +had she been disposed to hear. But never was good old man, engaged in +the thankless office of bestowing good advice, so completely confounded +as he was by the sort of acknowledgments which his interference +obtained. A keen observer might have seen the gathering storm while +he was speaking; and, at every sentence, there was a low, running +commentary, bubbling up from the throat of the opinionated dame, +somewhat like rumbling thunder, which amply denoted the rising tempest. +It was a sort of religious effort which kept the old lady quiet till +Calvert had fairly reached a conclusion. Then, rising from her seat, +she approached him, smoothed back her apron, perked out her chin, and, +fixing her keen gray eyes firmly upon his own, with her nose elongated +to such a degree as almost to suggest the possibility of a pointed +collision between that member and the corresponding one of his own face, +she demanded-- + +"Have you done--have you got through?" + +"Yes, Mrs. Cooper, this is all I came to say. It is the suggestion of +prudence--the caution of a friend--your daughter is young, very young, +and--" + +"I thank you! I thank you! My daughter is young, very young; but she is +no fool, Mr. Calvert--let me tell you that! Margaret Cooper is no fool. +If you don't know that, I do. I know her. She's able to take care of +herself as well as the best of us." + +"I am glad you think so, Mrs. Cooper, but the best of us find it a +difficult matter to steer clear of danger, and error and misfortune; +and the wisest, my dear madam, are only too apt to fall when they place +their chief reliance on their wisdom." + +"Indeed! that's a new doctrine to me, and I reckon to everybody else. If +it's true, what's the use of all your schooling, I want to know?" + +"Precious little, Mrs. Cooper, if--" + +"Ah! precious little; and let me tell you, Mr. Calvert, I think it's +mighty strange that you should think Margaret Cooper in more need of +your advice, than Jane Colter, or Betsy Barnes, or Susan Mason, or +Rebecca Forbes, or even the widow Thackeray." + +"I should give the same advice to them under the same circumstances, +Mrs. Cooper." + +"Should you, indeed! Then I beg you will go and give it to them, for if +they are not in the same circumstances now, they'd give each of them an +eye to be so. Ay, wouldn't they! Yes! don't I know, Mr. Calvert, +that it's all owing to envy that you come here talking about Brother +Stevens." + +"But I do not speak of Mr. Stevens, Mrs. Cooper; were it any other young +man with whom your daughter had such intimacy I should speak in the same +manner." + +"Would you, indeed? Tell that to the potatoes. Don't I know better. +Don't I know that if your favorite, that you made so much of--your +adopted son, Bill Hinkley--if he could have got her to look at him, they +might have walked all night and you'd never have said the first word. +He'd have given one eye for her, and so would every girl in the village +give an eye for Brother Stevens. I'm not so old but I know something. +But it won't do. You can go to the widow Thackeray, Mr. Calvert. It'll +do her good to tell her that it's very dangerous for her to be thinking +about young men from morning to night. It's true you can't say anything +about the danger, for precious little danger she's in; but, lord, +wouldn't she jump to it if she had a chance. Let her alone for that. +You'd soon have cause enough to give her your good advice about the +danger, and much good would come of it. She'd wish, after all was said, +that the danger was only twice as big and twice as dangerous." + +Such was the conclusion of Mr. Calvert's attempt to give good counsel. +It resulted as unprofitably in this as in most cases; but it had +not utterly fallen, like the wasted seed, in stony places. There was +something in it to impress itself upon the memory of Mrs. Cooper; and +she resolved that when her daughter came in, it should be the occasion +of an examination into her feelings and her relation to the worthy +brother, such as she had more than once before meditated to make. + +But Margaret Cooper did not return till a comparatively late hour; and +the necessity of sitting up after her usual time of retiring, by making +the old lady irritable, had the effect of giving some additional force +to the suggestions of Mr. Calvert. When Margaret did return, she came +alone. Stevens had attended her only to the wicket. She did not expect +to find her mother still sitting up; and started, with an appearance of +disquiet, when she met her glance. The young girl was pale and haggard. +Her eye had a dilated, wild expression. Her step faltered; her voice was +scarcely distinct as she remarked timidly-- + +"Not yet abed, mother?" + +"No! it's a pretty time for you to keep me up." + +"But why did you sit up, mother? It's not usual with you to do so." + +"No! but it's high time for me to sit up, and be on the watch too, when +here's the neighbors coming to warn me to do so--and telling me all +about your danger." + +"Ha! my danger--speak--what danger, mother?" + +"Don't you know what danger? Don't you know?" + +"Know!" The monosyllable subsided in a gasp. At that moment Margaret +Cooper could say no more. + +"Well, I suppose you don't know, and so I'll tell you. Here's been that +conceited, stupid old man, Calvert, to tell me how wrong it is for you +to go out by night walking with Brother Stevens; and hinting to me that +you don't know how to take care of yourself with all your learning; and +how nobody knows anything about Brother Stevens; as if nobody was wise +for anything but himself. But I gave him as good as he brought, I'll +warrant you. I sent him off with a flea in his ear!" + +It was fortunate for the poor girl that the light, which was that of a +dipped candle, was burning in the corner of the chimney, and was too dim +to make her features visible. The ghastly tale which they told could not +have been utterly unread even by the obtuse and opinionated mind of the +vain mother. The hands of Margaret were involuntarily clasped in her +agony, and she felt very much like falling upon the floor; but, with +a strong effort, her nerves were braced to the right tension, and she +continued to endure, in a speechless terror, which was little short +of frenzy, the outpourings of her mother's folly which was a frenzy of +another sort. + +"I sent him off," she repeated, "with a flea in his ear. I could see +what the old fool was driving after, and I as good as told him so. If it +had been his favorite, his adopted son, Bill Hinkley, it would have been +another guess-story--I reckon. Then you might have walked out where you +pleased together, at all hours, and no harm done, no danger; old Calvert +would have thought it the properest thing in the world. But no Bill +Hinkley for me. I'm for Brother Stevens, Margaret; only make sure of +him, my child--make sure of him." + +"No more of this, dear mother, I entreat you. Let us go to bed, and +think no more of it." + +"And why should we not think of it? I tell you, Margaret, YOU MUST THINK +OF IT! Brother Stevens soon will be a preacher, and a fine speck he will +be. There'll be no parson like him in all west Kentucky. As for John +Cross, I reckon he won't be able to hold a candle to him. Brother +Stevens is something to try for. You must play your cards nicely, +Margaret. Don't let him see too soon that you like him. Beware of that! +But don't draw off too suddenly as if you didn't like him--that's worse +still; for very few men like to see that they ain't altogether pleasing +even at first sight to the lady that they like. There's a medium in all +things, and you must just manage it, as if you wa'n't thinking at all +about him, or love, or a husband, or anything; only take care always to +turn a quick ear to what he says, and seem to consider it always as if +'twas worth your considering. And look round when he speaks, and smile +softly sometimes; and don't be too full of learning and wisdom in what +you say, for I've found that men of sense love women best when they seem +to talk most like very young children--maybe because they think it's a +sign of innocence. But I reckon, Margaret, you don't want much teaching. +Only be sure and fix him; and don't stop to think when he asks. Be +sure to have your answer ready, and you can't say 'yes' too quickly +now-a-days, when the chances are so very few." + +The mother paused to take breath. Her very moral and maternal counsel +had fallen upon unheeding ears. But Margaret was sensible of the pause, +and was desirous of taking advantage of it. She rose from her chair, +with the view of retiring; but the good old dame, whose imagination had +been terribly excited by the delightful idea of having a preacher for +her son-in-law who was to take such precedence over all the leaders of +the other tribes, was not willing to abridge her eloquence. + +"Why, you're in a great hurry now, Margaret. Where was your hurry when +you were with Brother Stevens? Ah! you jade, can't I guess--don't I +know? There you were, you two, under the trees, looking at the moon, and +talking such sweet, foolish nonsense. I reckon, Margaret, 'twould puzzle +you to tell what HE said, or what YOU said, I can guess he didn't talk +much religion to you, heh? Ah! I know it all. It's the old story. It's +been so with all young people, and will be so till the end. Love is the +strangest thing, and it does listen to the strangest nonsense. Ain't it +so, Margaret? I know nothing but love would ever dumbfounder you in this +way; why, child, have you lost your tongue? What's the matter with you?" + +"Oh, mother, let me retire now, I have such a headache." + +"Heartache, you mean." + +"Heartache it is," replied the other desperately, with an air of +complete abandonment. + +"Ah! well, it's clear that he's got the heartache quite as much as you, +for he almost lives with you now. But make him speak out, Margaret--get +him to say the word, and don't let him be too free until he does. No +squeezing of hands, no kissing, no--" + +"No more, no more, I entreat you, mother, if you would not--drive me +mad! Why do you speak to me thus--why counsel me in this manner? Leave +me alone, I pray you, let me retire--I must--I must sleep now!" + +The mother was not unaccustomed to such passionate bursts of speech from +her daughter, and she ascribed the startling energy of her utterance +now, to an excited spirit in part, and partly to the headache of which +she complained. + +"What! do you feel so bad, my child? Well, I won't keep you up any +longer. I wouldn't have kept you up so long, if I hadn't been vexed by +that old fool, Calvert." + +"Mr. Calvert is a good man, mother." + +"Well, he may be--I don't say a word against that," replied the mother, +somewhat surprised at the mildly reproachful nature of that response +which her daughter had made, so different from her usual custom:--"he +may be very good, but I think he's very meddlesome to come here talking +about Brother Stevens." + +"He meant well, mother." + +"Well or ill, it don't matter. Do you be ready when Brother Stevens +says the word. He'll say it before long. He's mighty keen after you, +Margaret. I've seen it in his eyes; only you keep a little off, till he +begins to press and be anxious; and after that he can't help himself. +He'll be ready for any terms; and look you, when a man's ready none +of your long bargains. Settle up at once. As for waiting till he gets +permission to preach, I wouldn't think of it. A man can be made a +preacher or anything, at any time, but 'tain't so easy in these times, +for a young woman to be made a wife. It's not every day that one can get +a husband, and such a husband! Look at Jane Colter, and Betsy Barnes, +and Rebecca Forbes, and Susan Mason; they'll be green again, I reckon, +before the chance comes to them; ay, and the widow Thackeray--though +she's had her day already. If 'twas a short one she's got no reason to +complain. She'll learn how to value it before it begins again. But, go +to bed, my child, you oughtn't to have a headache. No! no! you should +leave it to them that's not so fortunate. They'll have headaches and +heartaches enough, I warrant you, before they get such a man as Brother +Stevens." + +At last, Margaret Cooper found herself alone and in her chamber. With +unusual vigilance she locked and doublelocked the door. She then flung +herself upon the bed. Her face was buried in the clothes. A convulsion +of feeling shook her frame. But her eyes remained dry, and her cheeks +were burning. She rose at length and began to undress, but for this she +found herself unequal. She entered the couch and sat up in it--her +hands crossed upon her lap--her face wan, wild, the very picture of +hopelessness if not desperation! The words of her weak mother had +tortured her; but what was this agony to that which was occasioned by +her own thoughts. + +"Oh God!" she exclaimed at length, "can it be real? Can it be true? Do +I wake? Is it no dream? Am I, am I what I dare not name to myself--and +dread to hear from any other? Alas! it is true--too true. That shade, +that wood!--oh, Alfred Stevens! Alfred Stevens! What have you done! To +what have you beguiled me!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +STRENGTH AFTER FALL. + + + + + +That weary night no sleep came to the eyelids of the hapless Margaret +Cooper. The garrulous language of the mother had awakened far other +emotions in her bosom than those which she labored to inspire; and the +warning of Mr. Calvert, for the first time impressed upon herself +the terrible conviction that she was lost. In the wild intoxicating +pleasures of that new strange dream, she had been wofully unconscious +of the truth. So gradual had been the progress of passion, that it +had never alarmed or startled her. Besides, it had come to her under a +disguise afforded by the customary cravings of her soul. Her vanity +had been the medium by which her affections had been won, by which her +confidence had been beguiled, by which the guardian watchers of her +virtue had been laid to sleep. + +What a long and dreadful night was that when Margaret Cooper was first +brought to feel the awful truth in its true impressiveness of wo. Alas! +how terribly do the pleasures of sin torture us. The worst human foe is +guilt. The severest censure the consciousness of wrong doing. Poverty +may be endured--nay is--and virtue still be secure; since the mind may +be made strong to endure the heaviest toil, yet cherish few desires; +the loss of kin may call for few regrets, if we feel that we have +religiously performed our duties toward them, and requited all their +proper claims upon us. Sickness and pain may even prove benefits and +blessings, if it shall so happen that we resign ourselves without +complaint, to the scourge of the chastener, and grow patient beneath his +stripes. But that self-rebuke of one's own spirit from which we may +not fly--that remorseful and ever-vexing presence which haunts us, +and pursues with a wing even more fleet than that of fear--which tells +clamorously of what we had, and scornfully of what we have lost--lost +for ever! that is the demon from whom there is no escape, and beyond +whom there is no torture. Vainly would we strive with this relentless +enemy. Every blow aimed at its shadowy bosom recoils upon our own. In +the crowd, it takes the place of other forms and dogs us with suspicious +glances; in the solitude, it stalks boldly to our side, confronts us +with its audacious truths and terrible denunciations--leaves no moment +secure, waking or sleeping! It is the ghost of murdered virtue, brooding +over its grave in that most dark and dismal of all sepulchres, the human +heart. And if we cry aloud, as did Margaret Cooper, with vain prayer +for the recall of a single day, with what a yell of derisive mockery it +answers to our prayer. + +The night was passed in the delusive effort of the mind to argue +itself into a state of fancied security. She endeavored to recall those +characteristics in Alfred Stevens, by which her confidence had been +beguiled. This task was not a difficult one in that early day of her +distress; before experience had yet come to confirm the apprehensions of +doubt--before the intoxicating dream of a first passion had yet begun +to stale upon her imagination. Her own elastic mind helped her in this +endeavor. Surely, she thought, where the mind is so noble and expansive, +where the feelings are so tender and devoted, the features so lofty and +impressive, the look so sweet, the language so delicate and refined, +there can be no falsehood. + +"The devotion of such a man," she erringly thought, "might well sanction +the weakness of a woman's heart--might well persuade to the momentary +error which none will seek more readily to repair than himself. If he be +true to me, what indeed should I care for the scorn of others." + +Alas! for the credulous victim. This was the soul of her error. This +scorn of others--of the opinions of the world around her, is the saddest +error of which woman, who is the most dependant of all beings in the +moral world, can ever be guilty. But such philosophy did not now deceive +even the poor girl by whom it was uttered. It is a melancholy truth, +that, where there is no principle, the passions can not be relied on; +and the love of Alfred Stevens had hitherto shown itself in selfishness. +Margaret Cooper felt this, but she did not dare to believe it. + +"No! no!" she muttered--"I will not doubt--I will not fear! He is too +noble, too generous, too fond! I could not be deceived." + +Her reliance was upon her previous judgment, not upon his principles. +Her self-esteem assisted to make this reference sufficient for the +purposes of consolation, and this was all that she desired in this first +moment of her doubt and apprehension. + +"And if he be true--if he keep for ever the faith that his lips and +looks declare--then will I heed nothing of the shame and the sin. The +love of such a man is sufficient recompense for the loss of all +besides. What to me is the loss of society? what should I care for the +association and opinions of these in Charlemont? And elsewhere--he will +bear me hence where none can know. Ah! I fear not: he will be true." + +Her self-esteem was recovering considerably from its first overthrow. +Her mind was already preparing to do battle with those, the scorn +of whom she anticipated, and whose judgments she had always hitherto +despised. This was an easy task. She was yet to find that it was not the +only task. Her thoughts are those of many, in like situations, and it +is for this reason that we dwell upon them. Our purpose is, to show the +usual processes of self-deception. + +Margaret Cooper, like a large class of persons of strong natural mind +and sanguine temper, was only too apt to confound the cause of virtue +with its sometimes uncouth, harsh and self-appointed professors. She +overlooked the fact that public opinion, though a moral object +against which woman dares not often offend, is yet no standard for +her government; that principles are determinable elsewhere; and that, +whatever the world may think of them, and whatever may be their seeming +unimportance under existing circumstances, are the only real moral +securities of earth. She might fly from Charlemont, either into a +greater world, or into a more complete solitude, but she would fly to +no greater certainties than she now possessed. Her securities were +still based upon the principles of Alfred Stevens, and of these she knew +nothing. She knew that he was a man of talent--of eloquence; alas +for her! she had felt it; of skill--she had been its victim; of rare +sweetness of utterance, of grace and beauty; and as she enumerated to +herself these his mental powers and personal charms, she felt, however +numerous the catalogue, that none of these afforded her the guaranty she +sought. + +She arose the next day somewhat more composed, and with a face which +betrayed sleeplessness, but nothing worse. This she ascribed to the +headache with which she had retired. She had not slept an instant, and +she arose entirely unrefreshed. But the stimulating thoughts which had +kept her wakeful, furnished her with sufficient strength to appear as +usual in the household, and to go through her accustomed duties. But +it was with an impatience scarcely restrainable that she waited for the +approach of evening which would bring her lover. Him she felt it now +absolutely of the last necessity that she should see; that she should +once more go with him to those secret places, the very thought of which +inspired her with terror, and, laying bare her soul to his eyes, demand +of him the only restitution which he could make. + +He came. Once more she descended the steps to meet him--Her mother +arrested her on the stairway. A cunning leer was in her eye, as she +looked into the woful, impassive eyes of her daughter. She grinned with +a sort of delight expressive of the conviction that the advice she had +given the night before was to be put in execution soon. + +"Fix him, Margaret; he's mighty eager for you. You've cut your +eye-tooth--be quick, and you'll have a famous parson for a husband yet." + +The girl shrunk from the counsellor as if she had been a serpent. The +very counsel was enough to show her the humiliating attitude in which +she stood to all parties. + +"Remember," said the old woman, detaining her--"don't be too willing at +first. Let him speak fairly out. A young maiden can't be too backward, +until the man offers to make her a young wife!" + +The last words went to her soul like an arrow. + +"A young maiden!" she almost murmured aloud, as she descended the +steps--"O God! how lovely now, to my eyes, appears the loveliness of a +young maiden!" + +She joined Stevens in silence, the mother watching them with the eyes +of a maternal hawk as they went forth together. They pursued a customary +route, and, passing through one of the gorges of the surrounding +hills, they soon lost sight of the village. When the forest-shadows had +gathered thickly around them, and the silence of the woods became felt, +Stevens approached more nearly, and, renewing a former liberty, put his +arm about her waist. She gently but firmly removed it, but neither of +them spoke a word. A dense copse appeared before them. Toward it he +would have led the way. But she resolutely turned aside, and, while a +shudder passed over her frame, exclaimed-- + +"Not there--not there!" + +Breathlessly she spoke. He well enough understood her. They pursued an +opposite direction, and, in the shade of a wood which before they had +never traversed, they at length paused. Stevens, conducting her to the +trunk of a fallen tree, seated her, and placed himself beside her. Still +they were silent. There was a visible constraint upon both. The thoughts +and feelings of both were alike active--but very unlike in character. +With him, passion, reckless passion, was uppermost; selfish in all its +phases, and resolute on its own indulgence at every hazard. In her bosom +was regret if not remorse, mingled with doubts and hopes in pretty equal +proportion. Yet had she, even then, but little doubt of him. She accused +him of no practice. She fancied, foolish girl, that his error, like +her own, had been that of blind impulse, availing itself of a moment +of unguarded reason to take temporary possession of the citadel of +prudence. That he was calculating, cunning--that his snares had been +laid beforehand--she had not the least idea. But she was to grow wiser +in this and other respects in due season. How little did she then +conjecture the coldness and hardness of that base and selfish heart +which had so fanned the consuming flame in hers! + +Her reserve and coolness were unusual. She had been the creature, +heretofore, of the most uncalculating impulse. The feeling was spoken, +the thought uttered, as soon as conceived. Now she was silent. He +expected her to speak--nay, he expected reproaches, and was prepared to +meet them. He had his answer for any reproaches which she might make. +But for that stony silence of her lips he was not prepared. The passive +grief which her countenance betrayed--so like despair--repelled and +annoyed him. Yet, wherefore had she come, if not to complain bitterly, +and, after exhaustion, be soothed at last? Such had been his usual +experience in all such cases. But the unsophisticated woman before +him had no language for such a situation as was hers. Her pride, her +ambition--the very intensity of all her moods--rendered the effort at +speech a mockery, and left her dumb. + +"You are sad, Margaret--silent and very cold to me," he said, at last +breaking the silence. His tones were subdued to a whisper, and how full +of entreating tenderness! She slowly raised her eyes from the ground, +and fixed them upon him. What a speech was in that one look! There was +no trace of excitement, scarcely of expression, in her face. There was +no flush upon her cheeks. She was pale as death. She was still silent. +Her eye alone had spoken; and from its searching but stony glance his +own fell in some confusion to the ground. There was a dreary pause, +which he at length broke:-- + +"You are still silent, Margaret--why do you not speak to me?" + +"It is for you to speak, Alfred," was her reply. It was full of +significance, understood but not FELT by her companion. What, indeed, +had she to say--what could she say--while he said nothing? She was +the victim. With him lay the means of rescue and preservation. She but +waited the decision of one whom, in her momentary madness, she had +made the arbiter of her destiny. Her reply confused him. He would have +preferred to listen to the ordinary language of reproach. Had she burst +forth into tears and lamentations--had she cried, "You have wronged +me--you must do me justice!"--he would have been better pleased than +with the stern, unsuggestive character that she assumed. To all this, +his old experience would have given him an easy answer. But to be driven +to condemn himself--to define his own doings with the name due to his +deserts--to declare his crime, and proffer the sufficient atonement--was +an unlooked-for necessity. + +"You are displeased with me, Margaret." + +He dared not meet her glance while uttering this feeble and purposeless +remark. It was so short of all that he should have said--of all that +she expected--that her eyes glistened with a sudden expression of +indignation which was new to them in looking upon him. There was a +glittering sarcasm in her glance, which showed the intensity of her +feelings in the comment which they involuntarily made on the baldness +and poverty of his. Displeasure, indeed! That such an epithet should be +employed to describe the withering pang, the vulturous, gnawing torture +in her bosom--and that fiery fang which thought, like some winged +serpent, was momentarily darting into her brain! + +"Displeased!" she exclaimed, in low, bitter tones, which she seemed +rather desirous to suppress--"no, no! sir--not displeased. I am +miserable, most miserable--anything but displeased. I am too wretched to +feel displeasure!" + +"And to me you owe this wretchedness, dear Margaret--THAT--THAT is what +you would say. Is it not, Margaret? I have wronged--I have ruined you! +From me comes this misery! You hate, you would denounce me." + +He put his arm about her waist--he sank upon his knee beside her--his +eye, now that he had found words, could once more look courageously into +hers. + +"Wronged--ruined!" she murmured, using a part of his words, and +repeating them as if she did not altogether realize their perfect sense. + +"Ay, you would accuse me, Margaret," he continued--"you would reproach +and denounce me--you hate me--I deserve it--I deserve it." + +She answered with some surprise:-- + +"No, Alfred Stevens, I do not accuse--I do not denounce you. I am +wretched--I am miserable. It is for you to say if I am wronged and +ruined. I am not what I was--I know THAT!--What I am--what I will be!--" + +She paused! Her hands were clasped suddenly and violently--she looked to +heaven, and, for the first time, the tears, streamed from her eyes like +rain--a sudden, heavy shower, which was soon over. + +"Ah, Margaret, you would have me accuse myself--and I do. The crime is +mine! I have done you this wrong---" + +She interrupted him. + +"No, Alfred Stevens, _I_ have done wrong! I FEEL that I have done wrong. +That I have been feeble and criminal, _I_ KNOW. I will not be so base as +to deny what I can not but feel. As for your crime, you know best what +it is. I know mine. I know that my passions are evil and presumptuous; +and though I blush to confess their force, it is yet due to the truth +that I should do so, though I sink into the earth with my shame. But +neither your self-reproaches nor my confession will acquit us. Is there +nothing, Alfred Stevens, that can be done? Must I fall before you, here, +amidst the woods which have witnessed my shame, and implore you to save +me? I do! Behold me! I am at your feet--my face is in the dust. Oh! +Alfred Stevens--when I called your eyes to watch, in the day of my +pride, the strong-winged eagle of our hills, did I look as now? Save +me from this shame! save me! For, though I have no reproaches, yet God +knows, when we looked on that eagle's flight together, my soul had no +such taint as fills it now. Whatever were my faults, my follies, my +weaknesses, Heaven knows, I felt not, feared not this! a thought--a +dream of such a passion, then--never came to my bosom. From you it came! +You put it there! You woke up the slumbering emotion--you--but no!--I +will not accuse you! I will only implore you to save me! Can it be done? +can you do it--will you--will you not?" + +"Rise, dearest Margaret--let me lift you!" She had thrown herself upon +the earth, and she clung to it. + +"No, no! your words may lift me, Alfred Stevens, when your hands can +not. If you speak a hope, a promise of safety, it will need no other +help to make me rise! If you do not!--I would not wish to rise again. +Speak! let me hear, even as I am, what my doom shall be? The pride which +has made me fall shall be reconciled to my abasement." + +"Margaret, this despair is idle. There is no need for it. Do I not tell +you that there is no danger?" + +"Why did you speak of ruin?" she demanded. + +"I know not--the word escaped me. There is no ruin. I will save you. I +am yours--yours only. Believe me, I will do you right. I regard you as +sacredly my wife as if the rites of the church had so decreed it." + +"I dare not disbelieve you, Alfred! I have no hope else. Your words lift +me! Oh! Alfred Stevens, you did not mean the word, but how true it was; +what a wreck, what a ruin do I feel myself now--what a wreck have I +become!" + +"A wreck, a ruin! no, Margaret, no! never were you more beautiful than +at this very moment. These large, sad eyes--these long, dark lashes seem +intended to bear the weight of tears. These cheeks are something paler +than their wont, but not less beautiful, and these lips--" + +He would have pressed them with his own--he would have taken her into +his arms, but she repulsed him. + +"No, no! Alfred--this must not be. I am yours. Let me prove to you that +I am firm enough to protect your rights from invasion." + +"But why so coy, dearest? Do you doubt me?" + +"Heaven forbid!" + +"Ah! but you do. Why do you shrink from me--why this coldness? If you +are mine, if these charms are mine, why not yield them to me? I fear, +Margaret, that you doubt me still?" + +"I do not--dare not doubt you, Alfred Stevens. My life hangs upon this +faith." + +"Why so cold, then?" + +"I am not cold. I love you--I will be your wife; and never was wife +more faithful, more devoted, than I will be to you; but, if you knew the +dreadful agony which I have felt, since that sad moment of my weakness, +you would forbear and pity me." + +"Hear me, Margaret; to-morrow is Saturday. John Cross is to be here in +the evening. He shall marry us on Sunday. Are you willing?" + +"Oh, yes! thankful, happy! Ah! Alfred, why did I distrust you for an +instant?" + +"Why, indeed! But you distrust me no longer--you have no more +misgivings?" + +"No, none!" + +"You will be no longer cold, no longer coy, dear Margaret--here in the +sweet evening, among these pleasant shades, love, alone, has supremacy. +Here, in the words of one of your favorites:-- + + "'Where transport and security entwine, + Here is the empire of thy perfect bliss, + And here thou art a god--'" + +concluding this quotation, he would have taken her in his embrace--he +would have renewed those dangerous endearments which had already proved +so fatal; but she repulsed the offered tenderness, firmly, but with +gentleness. + +"Margaret, you still doubt me," he exclaimed reproachfully. + +"No, Alfred, I doubt you not. I believe you. I have only been too ready +and willing to believe you. Ah! have you not had sufficient proof of +this? Leave me the consciousness of virtue--the feeling of strength +still to assert it, now that my eyes are open to my previous weakness." + +"But there is no reason to be so cold. Remember you are mine by every +tie of the heart--another day will make you wholly mine. Surely, there +is no need for this frigid bearing. No, no! you doubt--you do not +believe me, Margaret!" + +"If I did not believe you, Alfred Stevens," she answered gravely, "my +prayer would be for death, and I should find it. These woods which have +witnessed my fault should have witnessed my expiation. The homes which +have known me should know me no more." + +The solemnity of her manner rather impressed him, but having no real +regard for her, he was unwilling to be baffled in his true desires. + +"If you doubt me not--if you have faith in me, Margaret, why this +solemnity, this reserve? Prove to me, by your looks, by your actions, +by the dear glances, the sweet murmurs, and the fond embrace, what these +cold assurances do not say." + +His hand rested on her neck. She gently raised and removed it. + +"I have already proved to you my weakness. I will now prove my strength. +It is better so, Alfred. If I have won your love, let me now command +your esteem, or maintain what is left me of my own. Do not be angry with +me if I insist upon it. I am resolute now to be worthy of you and of +myself." + +"Ah! you call this love?" said he bitterly. "If you ever loved, indeed, +Margaret--" + +"If I ever loved--and have I given you no proofs?" she exclaimed in a +burst of passion; "all the proofs that a woman can give, short of her +blood; and that, Alfred Stevens--that too, I was prepared to give, had +you not promptly assured me of your faith." + +She drew a small dagger from her sleeve, and bared it beneath his +glance. + +"Think you I brought this without an object? No! Alfred Stevens--know me +better! I came here prepared to die, as well as a frail and erring +woman could be prepared. You disarmed the dagger. You subdued the +determination when you bid me live for you. In your faith, I am willing +to live. I believe you, and am resolved to make myself worthy of your +belief also. I have promised to be your wife, and here before Heaven, I +swear to be your faithful wife; but, until then, you shall presume in no +respect. Your lip shall not touch mine; your arms shall not embrace me; +you shall see, dear Alfred, that, with my eyes once opened fully upon my +own weakness, I have acquired the most certain strength." + +"Give me the dagger," he said. + +She hesitated. + +"You doubt me still?" + +"No, no!" she exclaimed, handing him the weapon--"no, no! I do not doubt +you--I dare not. Doubt you, Alfred?--that were death, even without the +dagger!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +BULL-PUPS IN TRAINING. + + + + + +Alfred Stevens was sufficiently familiar with the sex to perceive that +Margaret Cooper was resolved. There was that in her look and manner +which convinced him that she was not now to be overcome. There was no +effort or constraint in either her looks or language. The composure of +assured strength was there. The discovery of her weakness, which he +had so unexpectedly made, had rendered her vigilant. Suspecting +herself--which women are not apt to do--she became watchful, not only of +the approach of her lover, but of every emotion of her own soul; and +it was with a degree of chagrin which he could scarcely refrain from +showing, that he was compelled to forego, at least for the present, all +his usual arts of seduction. + +Yet he knew not how to refrain. Never had Margaret Cooper seemed so +lovely in his eyes, so commanding, so eloquent with beauty, as now, +when remorse had touched her eyes with an unwonted shadow, and tears and +nightwatching had subdued the richer bloom upon her cheek. Proud still, +but pensive in her pride, she walked silently beside him, still brooding +over thoughts which she would not willingly admit were doubts, and +grasping every word of assurance that fell from his lips as if it had +been some additional security. + +These assurances he still suffered to escape him, with sufficient +frequency and solemnity, to confirm that feeling of confidence which +his promise of marriage had inspired in her mind. There was a subdued +fondness in his voice, and an EMPRESSMENT in his manner, which was not +all practice. The character which Margaret Cooper had displayed in this +last interview--her equal firmness and fear--the noble elevation of +soul which, admitting her own errors, disdained to remind him of his--a +course which would have been the most ready of adoption among the weaker +and less generous of the sex--had touched him with a degree of respect +akin to admiration; and so strong was the impression made upon him of +her great natural superiority of mind to almost all the women he had +ever met, that, but for her one unhappy lapse, he had sought no other +wife. Had she been strong at first as she proved herself at last, this +had been inevitable. + +When in his own chamber that night, he could not help recalling to his +memory the proud elevation of her character as it had appeared in that +interview. The recollection really gave him pain, since along with it +arose the memory also of that unfortunate frailty, which became more +prominent as a crime in connection with that intellectual merit which, +it is erroneously assumed, should have made it sure. + +"But for that, Margaret Cooper, and this marriage were no vain promise. +But that forbids. No, no--no spousals for me: let John Cross and the +bride be ready or not, there shall be a party wanting to that contract! +And yet, what a woman to lose! what a woman to win! No tragedy queen +ever bore herself like that. Talk of Siddons, indeed! SHE would have +brought down the house in that sudden prostration--that passionate +appeal. She made even me tremble. I could have loved her for that, if +for that only. To make ME tremble! and with such a look, such an eye, +such a stern, sweet, fierce beauty! By Heavens! I know not how to +give her up. What a sensation she would make in Frankfort! Were she my +wife--but no, no! bait for gudgeons! I am not so great a fool as that. +She who is mine on my terms, is yours, sir, or yours--is anybody's, when +the humor suits and the opportunity. I can not think of that. Yet, to +lose her is as little to be thought of. I must manage it. I must get +her off from this place. It need not be to Frankfort! Let me +see--there is--hum!--hum!--yes, a ride of a few miles--an afternoon +excursion--quite convenient, yet not too near. It must be managed; +but, at all events, I must evade this marriage--put it off for the +present--get some decent excuse. That's easy enough, and for the rest, +why, time that softens all things, except man and woman, time will make +that easy too. To-morrow for Ellisland, and the rest after." + +Thus, resolving not to keep his vows to his unhappy victim, the criminal +was yet devising plans by which to continue his power over her. These +plans, yet immature in his own mind, at least unexpressed, need not be +analyzed here, and may be conjectured by the reader. + +That night, Stevens busied himself in preparing letters. Of these he +wrote several. It will not further our progress to look over him as he +writes; and we prefer rather, in this place, to hurry on events which, +it may be the complaint of all parties, reader not omitted, have been +too long suffered to stagnate. But we trust not. Let us hurry Stevens +through Friday night--the night of that last interview. + +Saturday morning, we observe that his appetite is unimpaired. He +discusses the breakfast at Hinkley's as if he had never heard of +suffering. He has said an unctuous grace. Biscuits hot, of best Ohio +flour, are smoking on his plate. A golden-looking mass of best fresh +butter is made to assimilate its luscious qualities with those of the +drier and hotter substance. A copious bowl of milk, new from the dugs of +old Brindle, stands beside him, patiently waiting to be honored by his +unscrupulous but not unfastidious taste. The grace is said, and the +gravy follows. He has a religious regard for the goods and gifts of this +life. He eats heartily, and the thanks which follow, if not from the +bottom of the soul, were sufficiently earnest to have emanated from the +bottom of his stomach. + +This over, he has a chat with his hosts. He discusses with old Hinkley +the merits of the new lights. What these new lights were, at that +period, we do not pretend to remember. Among sectarians, there are +periodical new lights which singularly tend to increase the moral +darkness. From these, after a while, they passed to the love festivals +or feasts--a pleasant practice of the methodist church, which is +supposed to be very promotive of many other good things besides love; +though we are constrained to say that Brother Stevens and Brother +Hinkley--who, it may be remarked, had very long and stubborn arguments, +frequently without discovering, till they reached the close, that they +were thoroughly agreed in every respect except in words--concurred in +the opinion that there was no portion of the church practice so highly +conducive to the amalgamation of soul with soul, and all souls with God, +as this very practice of love-feasts! + +Being agreed on this and other subjects, Mr. Hinkley invited Brother +Stevens out to look at his turnips and potatoes; and when this delicate +inquiry was over, toward ten o'clock in the day, Brother Stevens +concluded that he must take a gallop; he was dyspeptic, felt queerish, +his studies were too close, his mind too busy with the great concerns +of salvation. These are enough to give one dyspepsia. Of course, the +hot rolls and mountains of volcanic butter--steam-ejecting--could have +produced no such evil effects upon a laborer in the vineyard. At all +events, a gallop was necessary, and the horse was brought. Brother +Hinkley and our matronly sister of the same name watched the progress of +the pious youth, as, spurring up the hills, he pursued the usual route, +taking at first the broad highway leading to the eastern country. + +There were other eyes that watched the departure of Brother Stevens +with no less interest, but of another kind, than those of the venerable +couple. Our excellent friend Calvert started up on hearing the tread +of the horse, and, looking out from his porch, ascertained with some +eagerness of glance that the rider was Alfred Stevens. + +Now, why was the interest of Calvert so much greater on this than on any +other previous occasion? We will tell you, gentle reader. He had been +roused at an early hour that morning by a visit from Ned Hinkley. + +"Gran'pa," was the reverent formula of our fisherman at beginning, +"to-day's the day. I'm pretty certain that Stevens will be riding out +to-day, for he missed the last Saturday. I'll take my chance for it, +therefore, and brush out ahead of him. I think I've got it pretty +straight now, the place that he goes to, and I'll see if I can't get +there soon enough to put myself in a comfortable fix, so as to see +what's a-going on and what he goes after. Now, gran'pa, I'll tell +you what I want from you--them pocket-pistols of your'n. Bill Hinkley +carried off grandad's, and there's none besides that I can lay hold on." + +"But, Ned, I'm afraid to lend them to you." + +"What 'fraid of?" + +"That you'll use them." + +"To be sure I will, if there's any need, gran'pa. What do I get them +for?" + +"Ah, yes! but I fear you'll find a necessity where there is none. You'll +be thrusting your head into some fray in which you may lose your ears." + +"By Jupiter, no! No, gran'pa, I'll wait for the necessity. I won't look +for it. I'm going straight ahead this time, and to one object only. I +think Stevens is a rascal, and I'm bent to find him out. I've had no +disposition to lick anybody but him, ever since he drove Bill Hinkley +off--you and him together." + +"You'll promise me, Ned?" + +"Sure as a snag in the forehead of a Mississippi steamer. Depend upon +me." + +"But there must be no quarrelling with Stevens either, Ned." + +"Look you, gran'pa, if I'm to quarrel with Stevens or anybody else, +'twouldn't be your pistols in my pocket that would make me set on, and +'twouldn't be the want of 'em that would make me stop. When it's my cue +to fight, look you, I won't need any prompter, in the shape of friend +or pistol. Now THAT speech is from one of your poets, pretty near, and +ought to convince you that you may as well lend the puppies and say no +more about it. If you don't you'll only compel me to carry my rifle, and +that'll be something worse to an enemy, and something heavier for me. +Come, come, gran'pa, don't be too scrupulous in your old age. YOUR +HAVING them is a sufficient excuse for MY HAVING them too. It shows that +they ought to be had." + +"You're logic-chopping this morning, Ned--see that you don't get to +man-chopping in the afternoon. You shall have the pistols, but do not +use them rashly. I have kept them simply for defence against invasion; +not for the purpose of quarrel, or revenge." + +"And you've kept them mighty well, gran'pa," replied the young man, as +he contemplated with an eye of anxious admiration, the polish of the +steel barrels, the nice carving of the handles, and the fantastic but +graceful inlay of the silver-mounting and setting. The old man regarded +him with a smile. + +"Yes, Ned, I've kept them well. They have never taken life, though they +have been repeatedly tried upon bull's eye and tree-bark. If you will +promise me not to use them to-day, Ned, you shall have them." + +"Take 'em back, gran'pa." + +"Why?" + +"Why, I'd feel the meanest in the world to have a weapon, and not use it +when there's a need to do so; and I'm half afraid that the temptation +of having such beautiful puppies for myself--twin-puppies, I may +say--having just the same look out of the eyes, and just the same spots +and marks, and, I reckon, just the same way of giving tongue--I'm half +afraid, I say, that to get to be the owner of them, might tempt me to +stand quiet and let a chap wink at me--maybe laugh outright--may be suck +in his breath, and give a phew-phew-whistle just while I'm passing! No! +no! gran'pa, take back your words, or take back your puppies. Won't risk +to carry both. I'd sooner take Patsy Rifle, with all her weight, and no +terms at all." + +"Pshaw, Ned, you're a fool." + +"That's no news, gran'pa, to you or me. But it don't alter the case. Put +up your puppies." + +"No, Ned; you shall have them on your own terms. Take 'em as they are. I +give them to you." + +"And I may shoot anybody I please this afternoon, gran'pa?" + +"Ay, ay, Ned--; anybody--" + +Thus far the old man, when he stopped himself, changed his manner, which +was that of playful good-humor, to that of gravity, while his tones +underwent a corresponding change-- + +"But, Ned, my son, while I leave it to your discretion, I yet beg you +to proceed cautiously--seek no strife, avoid it--go not into the +crowd--keep from them where you see them drinking, and do not use +these or any weapons for any trifling provocation. Nothing but the last +necessity of self-preservation justifies the taking of life." + +"Gran'pa--thank you--you've touched me in the very midst of my +tender-place, by this handsome present. One of these puppies I'll name +after you, and I'll notch it on the butt. The other I'll call Bill +Hinkley, and I won't notch that. Yours, I'll call my pacific puppy, +and I'll use it only for peace-making purposes. The other I'll call my +bull-pup, and him I'll use for baiting and butting, and goring. But, as +you beg, I promise you I'll keep 'em both out of mischief as long as I +can. Be certain sure that it won't be my having the pups that'll make +me get into a skrimmage a bit the sooner; for I never was the man to ask +whether my dogs were at hand before I could say the word, 'set-on!' It's +a sort of nature in a man that don't stop to look after his weapons, but +naturally expects to find 'em any how, when his blood's up, and there's +a necessity to do." + +This long speech and strong assurance of his pacific nature and +purposes, did not prevent the speaker from making, while he spoke, +certain dextrous uses of the instrument's which were given into his +hands. Right and left were equally busy; one muzzle was addressed to the +candle upon the mantelpiece, the other pursued the ambulatory movements +of a great black spider upon the wall. The old man surveyed him with +an irrepressible smile. Suddenly interrupting himself the youth +exclaimed:-- + +"Are they loaded, gran'pa?" + +He was answered in the negative. + +"Because, if they were," said he, "and that great black spider was +Brother Stevens, I'd show you in the twinkle of a musquito, how I'd put +a finish to his morning's work. But I'd use the bull-pup, gran'pa--see, +this one--the pacific one I'd empty upon him with powder only, as a sort +of feu de joie--and then I'd set up the song--what's it? ah! Te Deum. A +black spider always puts me in mind of a rascal." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +THE FOX IN THE TRAP. + + + + + +The youth barely stopped to swallow his breakfast, when he set off from +the village. He managed his movements with considerable caution; and, +fetching a circuit from an opposite quarter, after having ridden some +five miles out of his way, passed into the road which he suspected that +Stevens would pursue. We do not care to show the detailed processes by +which he arrived at this conclusion. The reader may take for granted +that he had heard from some way-side farmer, that a stranger rode by his +cottage once a week, wearing such and such breeches, and mounted upon a +nag of a certain color and with certain qualities. Enough to say, that +Ned Hinkley was tolerably certain of his route and man. + +He sped on accordingly--did not once hesitate at turns, right or left, +forks and crossroads, but keeping an inflexible course, he placed +himself at such a point on the road as to leave it no longer doubtful, +should Stevens pass, of the place which usually brought him up. Here he +dismounted, hurried his horse, out of sight and hearing, into the +woods, and choosing a position for himself, with some nicety, along the +road-side, put himself in close cover, where, stretching his frame at +length, he commenced the difficult labor of cooling his impatience with +his cogitations. + +But cogitating, with a fellow of his blood, rather whets impatience. +He was monstrous restiff. At his fishing pond, with a trout to hook, +he would have lain for hours, as patient as philosophy itself, and as +inflexible as the solid rock over which he brooded. But without an angle +at his hand, how could he keep quiet? Not by thinking, surely; and, +least of all, by thinking about that person for whom his hostility was +so active. Thinking of Stevens, by a natural association, reminded +him of the pistols which Calvert had given him. Nothing could be more +natural than to draw them from his bosom. Again and again he examined +them in fascinated contemplation. He had already charged them, and he +amused himself by thinking of the mischief he could do, by a single +touch upon the trigger, to a poor little wood-rat, that once or twice +ran along a decaying log some five steps from his feet. But his object +being secrecy, the rat brushed his whiskers in safety. Still he amused +himself by aiming at this and other objects, until suddenly reminded +of the very important difference which he had promised Calvert to make +between the pistols in his future use of them. With this recollection he +drew out his knife, and laid the weapons before him. + +"This," said he, after a careful examination, in which he fancied +he discovered some slight difference between them in the hang of the +trigger--"this shall be my bull-pup--this my peace-maker!" + +The latter was marked accordingly with a "P," carved rudely enough by +one whose hand was much more practised in slitting the weasand of a +buck, than in cutting out, with crayon, or Italian crow-quill, the +ungainly forms of the Roman alphabet. Ned Hinkley shook his head with +some misgiving when the work was done; as he could not but see that +he had somewhat impaired the beauty of the peacemaker's butt by the +hang-dog looking initial which he had grafted upon it. But when he +recollected the subordinate uses to which this "puppy" was to be put, +and considered how unlikely, in his case, it would be exposed to +sight in comparison with its more masculine brother, he grew partially +reconciled to an evil which was now, indeed, irreparable. + +It does not require that we should bother the reader with the numberless +thoughts and fancies which bothered our spy, in the three mortal +hours in which he kept his watch. Nothing but the hope that he should +ultimately be compensated to the utmost by a full discovery of all that +he sought to know, could possibly have sustained him during the trying +ordeal. At every new spasm of impatience which he felt, he drew up his +legs, shifted from one side to the other and growled out some small +thunder in the shape of a threat that "it would be only so much the +worse for him when the time came!" HIM--meaning Stevens. + +At last Stevens came. He watched the progress of his enemy with keen +eyes; and, with his "bull-pup" in his hand, which a sort of instinct +made him keep in the direction of the highway, he followed his form upon +the road. When he was out of sight and hearing, the spy jumped to his +feet. The game, he felt, was secure now--in one respect at least. + +"He's for Ellisland. That was no bad guess then. He might have been for +Fergus, or Jonesboro', or Debarre, but there's no turn now in the clear +track to Ellisland. He's there for certain." + +Ned Hinkley carefully restored his pistols to his bosom and buttoned up. +He was mounted in a few moments, and pressing slowly forward in pursuit. +He had his own plans which we will not attempt to fathom; but we fear we +shall be compelled to admit that he was not sufficiently a gentleman to +scruple at turning scout in a time of peace (though, with him, by +the way, and thus he justified, he is in pursuit of an enemy, and +consequently is at war), and dodging about, under cover, spying out +the secrets of the land, and not very fastidious in listening to +conversation that does not exactly concern him. We fear that there is +some such flaw in the character of Ned Hinkley, though, otherwise, a +good, hardy fellow--with a rough and tumble sort of good nature, which, +having bloodied your nose, would put a knife-handle down your back, and +apply a handful of cobwebs to the nasal extremity in order to arrest the +haemorrhage. We are sorry that there is such a defect in his character; +but we did not put it there. We should prefer that he should be +perfect--the reader will believe us--but there are grave lamentations +enough over the failures of humanity to render our homilies unnecessary. +Ned Hinkley was not a gentleman, and the only thing to be said in +his behalf, is, that he was modest enough to make pretensions to the +character. As he once said in a row the company muster:-- + +"I'm blackguard enough, on this occasion, to whip e'er a gentleman among +you!" + +Without any dream of such a spectre at his heels to disturb his +imagination, Alfred Stevens was pursuing his way toward Ellisland, at +that easy travelling gait, which is the best for man and beast, vulgarly +called a "dog-trot." Some very fine and fanciful people insist upon +calling it a "jog-trot." We beg leave, in this place, to set them +right. Every trot is a jog, and so, for that matter, is every canter. A +dog-trot takes its name from the even motion of the smaller quadruped, +when it is seized with no particular mania, and is yet disposed to go +stubbornly forward. It is in more classical dialect, the festina lente +motion. It is regularly forward, and therefore fast--it never puts +the animal out of breath, and is therefore slow. Nobody ever saw a dog +practice this gait, with a tin canister at his tail, and a huddle of +schoolboys at his heels. No! it is THE travelling motion, considering +equally the health of all parties, and the necessity of getting on. + +In this desire, Ned Hinkley pressed too closely on the heels of Stevens. +He once nearly overhauled him; and falling back, he subdued his +speed, to what, in the same semi-figurative language, he styled "the +puppy-trot." Observing these respective gaits, Brother Stevens rode into +Ellisland at a moderately late dinner-hour, and the pursuer followed +at an unspeakable, but not great, distance behind him. We will, +henceforward, after a brief glance at Ellisland, confine ourselves more +particularly to the progress of Brother Stevens. + +Ellisland was one of those little villages to which geographers scarcely +accord a place upon the maps. It is not honored with a dot in any map +that we have ever seen of Kentucky. But, for all this, it is a place! +Some day the name will be changed into Acarnania or Etolia, Epirus or +Scandinavia, and then be sure you shall hear of it. Already, the village +lawyers--there are two of them--have been discussing the propriety of +a change to something classical; and we do not doubt that, before +long, their stupidity will become infectious. Under these circumstances +Ellisland will catch a name that will stick. At present you would +probably never hear of the place, were it not necessary to our purposes +and those of Brother Stevens. + +It has its tavern and blacksmith shop--its church--the meanest fabric in +the village--its postoffice and public well and trough. There is also a +rack pro bono publico, but as it is in front of the tavern, the owner +of that establishment has not wholly succeeded in convincing the people +that it was put there with simple reference to the public convenience. +The tavern-keeper is, politically, a quadrupled personage. He combines +the four offices of post-master, justice of the peace, town council, and +publican; and is considered a monstrous small person with all. The truth +is, reader--this aside--he has been democrat and whig, alternately, +every second year of his political life. His present politics, being +loco-foco, are in Ellisland considered contra bonos mores. It is hoped +that he will be dismissed from office, and a memorial to that effect is +in preparation; but the days of Harrison--"and Tyler too"--have not yet +come round, and Jerry Sunderland, who knows what his enemies are driving +at, whirls his coat-skirts, and snaps his fingers, in scorn of all their +machinations. He has a friend at Washington, who spoons in the +back parlor of the white-house--in other words, is a member o f the +kitchen-cabinet, of which, be it said, en passant, there never was a +president of the United States yet entirely without one--and--there +never will be! So much for politics and Ellisland. + +There was some crowd in the village on the day of Brother Stevens's +arrival. Saturday is a well known day in the western and southern +country for making a village gathering; and when Brother Stevens, having +hitched his horse at the public rack, pushed his way to the postoffice, +he had no small crowd to set aside. He had just deposited his letters, +received others in return, answered some ten or fifteen questions which +Jerry Sunderland, P. M., Q. U., N. P., M. C., publican and sinner--such +were all deservedly his titles--had thought it necessary to address to +him, when he was suddenly startled by a familiar tap upon the shoulder; +such a tap as leads the recipient to imagine that he is about to be +honored with the affectionate salutation of some John Doe or Richard +Roe of the law. Stevens turned with some feeling of annoyance, if not +misgiving, and met the arch, smiling, and very complacent visage of a +tall, slender young gentleman in black bushy whiskers and a green coat, +who seized him by the hand and shook it heartily, while a chuckling +half-suppressed laughter gurgling in his throat, for a moment, forbade +the attempt to speak. Stevens seemed disquieted and looked around him +suspiciously. + +"What! you here, Ben?" + +"Ay, you see me! You didn't expect to see me, Warham---" + +"Hush!" was the whispered word of Stevens, again looking round him in +trepidation. + +"Oh! ay!" said the other with a sly chuckle, and also in a whisper, "Mr. +Stevens--Brother Stevens--hem! I did not think. How is your holiness +to-day?" + +"Come aside," muttered Stevens; and, taking the arm of the incautious +speaker, he led him away from the crowd and took the way out of the +village. Their meeting and departure did not occasion much, if any, +sensation. The visitors in the village were all too busy in discussing +the drink and doctrines, pretty equally distributed, of Jerry the +publican. But there was one eye that noted the meeting of the friends; +that beheld the concern and confusion of Stevens: that saw their +movements, and followed their departing steps. + +"Take your horse--where is he?" demanded Stevens. + +"Here, at hand; but what do you mean to do?" + +"Nothing, but get out of hearing and sight; for your long tongue, Ben, +and significant face, would blab any secret, however deep." + +"Ah! did I not say that I would find you out? Did you get my last +letter?" + +"Ay, I did: but I'm devilish sorry, Ben, that you've come. You'll do +mischief. You have always been a mar-plot." + +"Never, never! You don't know me." + +"Don't I?--but get your horse, and let's go into the woods, while we +talk over matters." + +"Why not leave the nags here?" + +"For a very good reason. My course lies in that direction, so that I am +in my way; while yours, if your purpose be to go back to Frankfort, will +lie on the upper side. Neither of us need come back to the village." + +"And you think to shuffle me off so soon, do you?" + +"What would you have me do?" + +"Why, give us a peep at this beauty--this Altamira of yours--at least." + +"Impossible! Do not think of it, Ben; you'd spoil all. But, get the +horse. These billet-heads will suspect mischief if they see us talking +together, particularly when they behold your conceited action. This +political landlord will surmise that you are a second Aaron Burr, about +to beat up recruits to conquer California. Your big whiskers--what +an atrocious pair!--with your standing collar, will confirm the +impression." + +The two were soon mounted, and rode into the adjoining woods. They were +only a stone's-throw from the village, when Stevens alighted, followed +by his companion. They hitched their horses to some swinging branches +of a sheltering tree, and, going aside a few paces beyond, seated +themselves upon the grass, as they fancied, in a place of perfect +security. + +"And now, Ben, what in truth brings you here?" demanded Stevens, in +tones of voice and with a look which betrayed anything but satisfaction +with the visit. + +"Curiosity, I tell you, and the legs of my horse." + +"Pshaw! you have some other motive." + +"No, 'pon honor. I resolved to find you out--to see what you were +driving at, and where. I could only guess a part from your letter to +Barnabas, and that costive scrawl with which you honored me. Perhaps, +too--and give my friendship credit for the attempt--I came with some +hope to save you." + +"Save me--from what?" + +"Why, wedlock--the accursed thing! The club is in terror lest you should +forget your vows. So glowing were your descriptions of your Cleopatra, +that we knew not what to make. We feared everything." + +"Why, Barnabas might have opened your eyes: he knew better." + +"You're not married, then?" + +"Pshaw! no." + +"Nor engaged?" + +The other laughed as he replied:-- + +"Why, on that head, the least said the better. The roving commission +permits you to run up any flag that the occasion requires." + +"Ah, you sly dog!--and what success?" + +"Come, come, Ben, you must not be so inquisitive. The game's my own, you +know; and the rules of the club give me immunity from a fellow-member." + +"By Gad, I'll resign! I must see this forest beauty." + +"Impossible!" + +"Where's she? How will you prevent?" + +"By a very easy process. Do you know the bird that shrieks farthest from +her young ones when the fowler is at hand? I'll follow her example." + +"I'll follow you to the uttermost ends of the earth, Warham!" + +"Hush! you forget! Am I not Brother Stevens? Ha! ha! ha! You are not +sufficiently reverent, brother. See you no divinity in my look and +bearing? Hark you, Ben, I've been a sort of small divinity in the eyes +of a whole flock for a month past!" + +"You pray?" + +"And preach!" + +"Ha! ha! ha!--devilish good; but I must see you in order to believe. I +must, indeed, Brother Stevens. Why, man, think of it--success in this +enterprise will make you head of the fraternity--you will be declared +pope: but you must have witnesses!" + +"So I think; and hark ye, Ben"--laying a finger on the arm of the +other--"I am successful!" + +"What! you don't say so! This queen, this princess of Egypt, Cleopatra, +Altamira--eh?" + +"Is mine--soul and body--she is mine!" + +"And is what you say? Come, come, you don't mean that such a splendid +woman as you describe--such a genius, poet, painter, musician--beauty +too!--you don't mean to say that--" + +"I do, every bit of it." + +"'Gad! what a fellow!--what a lucky dog! But you must let me see her, +Warham!" + +"What! to spoil all--to blurt out the truth?--for, with every +disposition to fib, you lack the ability. No, no, Ben: when the game's +up--when I'm tired of the sport, and feel the necessity of looking out +fresh viands--you shall then know all; I'll give the clue into your own +hands, and you may follow it to your heart's content. But not now!" + +"But how will you get rid of me, mon ami, if my curiosity is stubborn?" + +"Do as the kill-deer does--travel from the nest--go home with you, +rather than you should succeed in your impertinence, and have you +expelled from the club for thrusting your spoon into the dish of a +brother-member." + +"You're a Turk, with no bowels of compassion. But, at all events, +you promise me the dish when you're done with it? you give me the +preference?" + +"I do!" + +"Swear by Beelzebub and Mohammed; by Jupiter Ammon and Johannes +Secundus; by the ghost of Cardinal Bembo, and the gridiron of the +fraternity!" + +"Ay, and by the virginity of Queen Elizabeth!" + +"Simulacrum! no! no! no such oath for me! That's swearing by the thing +that is not, was not--could not be! You shall swear by the oaths of +the club--you must be bound on the gridiron of the fraternity, before I +believe you. Swear!" + +"You are as tenacious as the ghost of buried Denmark But you shall be +satisfied. I swear by the mystic gridiron of the fraternity, and by +the legs thereof, of which the images are Beelzebub, Mohammed, Johannes +Secundus, and so forth--nay, by that memorable volume, so revered in the +eyes of the club, the new edition of 'The Basiad,' of which who among us +has been the true exponent?--that profound mystery of sweets, fathomed +hourly, yet unfathomable still--for which the commentators, already +legions, are hourly becoming legions more;--by these, and by the +mysteries of the mirror that reflects not our own, but the image we +desire;--by these things--by all things that among the brotherhood are +held potent--I swear to--" + +"Give me the preference in the favor of this princess; the clue to +find her when you have left her; and the assurance that you will get a +surfeit as soon as possible: swear!" + +"Nay, nay! I swear not to that last! I shall hold on while appetite +holds, and make all efforts not to grow dyspeptic in a hurry. I'll keep +my stomach for a dainty, be sure, as long as I can. I were no brother, +worthy of our order, if I did not." + +"Well, well--to the rest! Swear to the rest, and I am satisfied." + +"You go back, then, instanter?" + +"What! this very day?" + +"This hour!" + +"The d---l! you don't mean THAT, Warham?" returned the other in some +consternation. + +"Ay, this very hour! You must swear to that. Your oath must precede +mine." + +"Ah! man, remember I only got here last night--long ride--hard-trotting +horse. We have not seen each other for months. I have a cursed sight to +tell you about the boys--girls too--love, law, logic, politics. Do you +know they talk of running you for the house?" + +"All in good season, Ben; not now. No, no! you shall see me when you +least look for me, and there will be time enough for all these matters +then. They'll keep. For the present, let me say to you that we must +part now within the hour. You must swear not to dog my steps, and I +will swear to give you carte blanche, and the first privileges at my +princess, when I leave her. This is my bargain. I make no other." + +"I've a great mind not to leave you," said the other doggedly. + +"And what will that resolution bring you, do you fancy? Do you suppose +I am to be tracked in such a manner? No, Ben! The effect will be to make +me set off for the east instantly, whether you go with me or not; and an +equally certain effect will be to make us cut loose for ever." + +"You're a d---d hard colt to manage," said the other moodily. + +"I sha'n't let myself be straddled by every horse-boy, I assure you." + +"Come, come, old fellow, that's too much like horse-play. Don't be angry +with me. I'll accept your conditions." + +"Very good," said Stevens; "if you did not, Ben, it would be no better +for you; for, otherwise, you should never even see my beauty!" + +"Is she so very beautiful, old boy?" + +"A queen, I tell you! a proud, high-spirited, wild beauty of the +mountains--a thing of fire and majesty--a glorious woman, full of song +and sentiment and ambition--a genius, I tell you--who can improvise +like Corinne, and, by the way, continually reminds one of that glorious +creature. In Italy, she would have been greater than Corinne." + +"And you've won her--and she loves you?" + +"Ay--to doting! I found her a sort of eagle--soaring, striving--always +with an eye upon the hills, and fighting with the sunbeams. I have +subdued her. She is now like a timid fawn that trembles at the very +falling of a leaf in the forests. She pants with hope to see me, and +pants with tremulous delight when I come. Still, she shows every now +and then, a glimmering of that eagle spirit which she had at first. She +flashes up suddenly, but soon sinks again. Fancy a creature, an idolater +of fame before, suddenly made captive by love, and you have a vain, +partial image of my forest-princess." + +"What a lucky dog! You'll marry her yet, old boy, in spite of all!" + +"Pshaw! You are green to talk so." + +"You'll be devilish loath to give her up; I'm afraid I'll have to wait a +cursed long time." + +"No, not long! Do not despair. Easy won, easy valued." + +"And was she easily won?" + +"Very! the game was a short one. She is a mere country-girl, you know, +but eighteen or thereabouts--suspecting nobody, and never dreaming that +she had a heart or passions at all. She thought only of her poetry and +her books. It was only necessary to work upon heart and passions while +talking of poetry and books, and they carried her out of her depth +before she could recover. She's wiser now, Ben, I can assure you, and +will require more dexterity to keep than to conquer." + +"And she has no brother to worry a body--no d---d ugly Hobnail, who has +a fancy for her, and may make a window between the ribs of a gallant, +such as nature never intended, with the ounce-bullet of some d---d +old-fashioned seven-foot rifle--eh?" + +"There was a silly chap, one Hinkley, who tried it on me--actually +challenged me, though I was playing parson, and there might have been +work for me but for his own bull-headed father, who came to my rescue, +beat the boy and drove him from the place. There is nobody else to give +me any annoyance, unless it be a sort of half-witted chap, a cousin of +the former--a sleepy dog that is never, I believe, entirely awake unless +when he's trout-fishing. He has squinted at me, as if he could quarrel +if he dared, but the lad is dull--too dull to be very troublesome. You +might kiss his grandmother under his nose, and he would probably regard +it only as a compliment to her superior virtues, and would thank you +accordingly--" + +A voice a little to the left interrupted the speaker. + +"So he does, my brave parson, for his grandmother's sake and his own," +were the words of the speaker. They turned in sudden amaze to the spot +whence the sounds issued. The bushes opening in this quarter, presented +to the astonished eyes of Brother Stevens, the perfect image of the +dull lad of whom he had been speaking. There was Ned Hinkley in proper +person--perfectly awake, yet not trout-fishing! A sarcastic grin was +upon his visage, and rolling his eyes with a malicious leer, he repeated +the words which had first interrupted the progress of the dialogue +between the friends. + +"I thank you, Brother Stevens, for the compliment to my grandmother's +virtues. I thank you, on her account as well as my own. I'm very +grateful, I assure you, very grateful, very!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +"ABSQUATULATING." + + + + + +Had a bolt suddenly flashed and thundered at the feet of the two +friends, falling from a clear sky in April, they could not have been +more astounded. They started, as with one impulse, in the same moment to +their feet. + +"Keep quiet," said the intruder; "don't let me interrupt you in so +pleasant a conversation. I'd like to hear you out. I'm refreshed by it. +What you say is so very holy and sermon-like, that I'm like a new man +when I hear it. Sit down, Brother Stevens, and begin again; sit down, +Ben, my good fellow, and don't look so scary! You look as if you had a +window in your ribs already!" + +The intruder had not moved, though he had startled the conspirators. He +did not seem to share in their excitement. He was very coolly seated, +with his legs deliberately crossed, while his two hands parted the +bushes before him in order to display his visage--perhaps with the +modest design of showing to the stranger that his friend had grievously +misrepresented its expression. Certainly, no one could say that, at this +moment, it lacked anything of spirit or intelligence. Never were eyes +more keen--never were lips more emphatically made to denote sarcasm +and hostility. The whole face was alive with scorn, and hate, and +bitterness; and there was defiance enough in the glance to have put +wings to fifty bullets. + +His coolness, the composure which his position and words manifested, +awakened the anger of Brother Stevens as soon as the first feeling of +surprise had passed away. He felt, in a moment, that the game was up +with him--that he could no longer play the hypocrite in Charlemont. +He must either keep his pledges to Margaret Cooper, without delay or +excuse, or he must abandon all other designs which his profligate heart +may have suggested in its cruel purposes against her peace. + +"Scoundrel!" he exclaimed; "how came you here? What have you heard?" + +"Good words, Brother Stevens. You forget, you are a parson." + +"Brain the rascal!" exclaimed the whiskered stranger, looking more +fierce than ever. The same idea seemed to prompt the actions of Stevens. +Both of them, at the same moment, advanced upon the intruder, with their +whips uplifted; but still Ned Hinkley did not rise. With his legs still +crossed, he kept his position, simply lifting from the sward beside him, +where they had been placed conveniently, his two "puppies." One of these +he grasped in his right hand and presented as his enemies approached. + +"This, gentlemen," said he, "is my peace-maker. It says, 'Keep your +distance.' This is my bull-pup, or peace-breaker; it says, 'Come on.' +Listen to which you please. It's all the same to me. Both are ready to +answer you, and I can hardly keep 'em from giving tongue. The bull-pup +longs to say something to you, Brother Stevens--the pacificator is +disposed to trim your whiskers, Brother Ben; and I say, for 'em both, +come on, you black-hearted rascals, if you want to know whether a girl +of Charlemont can find a man of Charlemont to fight her battles. I'm man +enough, by the Eternal, for both of you!" + +The effect of Hinkley's speech was equally great upon himself and the +enemy. He sprang to his feet, ere the last sentence was concluded, +and they recoiled in something like indecent haste. The language of +determination was even more strongly expressed by the looks of the +rustic than by his language and action. They backed hurriedly at his +approach. + +"What! won't you stand?--won't you answer to your villanies?--won't you +fight? Pull out your barkers and blaze away, you small-souled scamps; +I long to have a crack at you--here and there--both at a time! Aint you +willing? I'm the sleepy trout-fisherman! Don't you know me? You've waked +me up, my lads, and I sha'n't sleep again in a hurry! As for you, Alfred +Stevens--you were ready to fight Bill Hinkley--here's another of the +breed--won't you fight him?" + +"Yes--give me one of your pistols, if you dare, and take your stand," +said Stevens boldly. + +"You're a cunning chap--give you one of my puppies--a stick for my own +head--while this bush-whiskered chap cudgels me over from behind. No! +no! none of that! Besides, these pistols were a gift from a good man, +they sha'n't be disgraced by the handling of a bad one. Get your own +weapons, Brother Stevens, and every man to his tree." + +"They are in Charlemont!" + +"Well!--you'll meet me there then?" + +"Yes!" was the somewhat eager answer of Stevens, "I will meet you +there--to-morrow morning--" + +"Sunday--no! no!" + +"Monday, then; this evening, if we get home in season." + +"It's a bargain then," replied Hinkley, "though I can hardly keep from +giving you the teeth of the bull! As for big-whiskered Ben, there, I'd +like to let him taste my pacificator. I'd just like to brush up his +whiskers with gun-powder--they look to have been done up with bear's +grease before, and have a mighty fine curl; but if I wouldn't frizzle +them better than ever a speckled hen had her feathers frizzled, then +I don't know the virtues of gun-powder. On Monday morning, Brother +Stevens!" + +"Ay, ay! on Monday morning!" + +Had Ned Hinkley been more a man of the world--had he not been a simple +backwoodsman, he would have seen, in the eagerness of Stevens to make +this arrangement, something, which would have rendered him suspicious +of his truth. The instantaneous thought of the arch-hypocrite, convinced +him that he could never return to Charlemont if this discovery was once +made there. His first impulse was to put it out of the power of +Ned Hinkley to convey the tidings. We do not say that he would have +deliberately murdered him; but, under such an impulse of rage and +disappointment as governed him in the first moments of detection, murder +has been often done. He would probably have beaten him into incapacity +with his whip--which had a heavy handle--had not the rustic been +sufficiently prepared. The pistols of Stevens were in his valise, but +he had no purpose of fighting, on equal terms, with a man who spoke with +the confidence of one who knew how to use his tools; and when the simple +fellow, assuming that he would return to Charlemont for his chattels, +offered him the meeting there, he eagerly caught at the suggestion as +affording himself and friend the means of final escape. + +It was not merely the pistols of Hinkley of which he had a fear. But +he well knew how extreme would be the danger, should the rustic gather +together the people of Ellisland, with the story of his fraud, and the +cruel consequences to the beauty of Charlemont, by which the deception +had been followed. But the simple youth, ignorant of the language of +libertinism, had never once suspected the fatal lapse from virtue of +which Margaret Cooper had been guilty. He was too unfamiliar with the +annals and practices of such criminals, to gather this fact from +the equivocal words, and half-spoken sentences, and sly looks of the +confederates. Had he dreamed this--had it, for a moment, entered into +his conjecturings--that such had been the case, he would probably have +shot down the seducer without a word of warning. But that the crime was +other than prospective, he had not the smallest fancy; and this may +have been another reason why he took the chances of Stevens's return to +Charlemont, and let him off at the moment. + +"Even should he not return," such may have been his reflection--"I have +prevented mischief at least. He will be able to do no harm. Margaret +Cooper shall be warned of her escape, and become humbler at least, if +not wiser in consequence. At all events, the eyes of Uncle Hinkley will +be opened, and poor Bill be restored to us again!" + +"And now mount, you scamps," said Hinkley, pressing upon the two with +presented pistols. "I'm eager to send big-whiskered Ben home to his +mother; and to see you, Brother Stevens, on your way back to Charlemont. +I can hardly keep hands off you till then; and it's only to do so, that +I hurry you. If you stay, looking black, mouthing together, I can't +stand it. I will have a crack at you. My peace-maker longs to brush up +them whiskers. My bull-pup is eager to take you, Brother Stevens, by the +muzzle! Mount you, as quick as you can, before I do mischief." + +Backing toward their horses, they yielded to the advancing muzzles, +which the instinct of fear made them loath to turn their backs upon. +Never were two hopeful projectors so suddenly abased--so completely +baffled. Hinkley, advancing with moderate pace, now thrust forward +one, and now the other pistol, accompanying the action with a specific +sentence corresponding to each, in manner and form as follows:-- + +"Back, parson--back, whiskers! Better turn, and look out for the roots, +as you go forward. There's no seeing your way along the road by looking +down the throats of my puppies. If you want to be sure that they'll +follow till you're mounted, you have my word for it. No mistake, I tell +you. They're too eager on scent, to lose sight of you in a hurry, and +they're ready to give tongue at a moment's warning. Take care not to +stumble, whiskers, or the pacificator 'll be into your brush." + +"I'll pay you for this!" exclaimed Stevens, with a rage which was not +less really felt than judiciously expressed. "Wait till we meet!" + +"Ay, ay! I'll wait; but be in a hurry. Turn now, your nags are at your +backs. Turn and mount!" + +In this way they reached the tree where their steeds were fastened. +Thus, with the muzzle of a pistol bearing close upon the body of +each--the click of the cock they had heard--the finger close to the +trigger they saw--they were made to mount--in momentary apprehension +that the backwoodsman, whose determined character was sufficiently seen +in his face, might yet change his resolve, and with wanton hand, riddle +their bodies with his bullets. It was only when they were mounted, that +they drew a breath of partial confidence. + +"Now," said Hinkley, "my lads, let there be few last words between you. +The sooner you're off the better. As for you, Alfred Stevens, the sooner +you're back in Charlemont the more daylight we'll have to go upon. I'll +be waiting you, I reckon, when you come." + +"Ay, and you may wait," said Stevens, as the speaker turned off and +proceeded to the spot where his own horse was fastened. + +"You won't return, of course?" said his companion. + +"No! I must now return with you, thanks to your interference. By +Heavens, Ben, I knew, at your coming, that you would do mischief; you +have been a marplot ever; and after this, I am half-resolved to forswear +your society for ever." + +"Nay, nay! do not say so, Warham. It was unfortunate, I grant you; but +how the devil should either of us guess that such a Turk as that was in +the bush?" + +"Enough for the present," said the other. "It is not now whether I +wish to ride with you or not. There is no choice. There is no return to +Charlemont." + +"And that's the name of the place, is it?" + +"Yes! yes! Much good may the knowledge of it do you." + +"How fortunate that this silly fellow concluded to let you off on such a +promise. What an ass!" + +"Yes! but he may grow wiser! Put spurs to your jade, and let us see +what her heels are good for, for the next three hours. I do not yet feel +secure. The simpleton may grow wiser and change his mind." + +"He can scarcely do us harm now, if he does." + +"Indeed!" said Stevens--"you know nothing. There's such a thing as hue +and cry, and its not unfrequently practised in these regions, when the +sheriff is not at hand and constables are scarce. Every man is then a +sheriff." + +"Well--but there's no law-process against us!" + +"You are a born simpleton, I think," said Stevens, with little scruple. +He was too much mortified to be very heedful of the feelings of his +companion. "There needs no law in such a case, at least for the CAPTURE +of a supposed criminal; and, for that matter, they do not find it +necessary for his punishment either. Hark ye, Ben--there's a farmhouse?" + +"Yes, I see it!" + +"Don't you smell tar?--They're running it now!" + +"I think I do smell something like it. What of it?" + +"Do you see that bed hanging from yon window?" + +"Yes! of course I see it!" + +"It is a feather-bed!" + +"Well--what of that? Why tell me this stuff? Of course I can guess as +well as you that it's a feather-bed, since I see a flock of geese in the +yard with their necks all bare." + +"Hark ye, then! There's something more than this, which you may yet see! +Touch up your mare. If this fellow brings the mob at Ellisland upon us, +that tar will be run, and that feather-bed gutted, for our benefit. What +they took from the geese will be bestowed on us. Do you understand me? +Did you ever hear of a man whose coat was made of tar and feathers, and +furnished at the expense of the county?" + +"Hush, for God's sake, Warham! you make my blood run cold with your +hideous notions!" + +"That fellow offered to frizzle your whiskers. These would anoint them +with tar, in which your bear's oil would be of little use." + +"Ha! don't you hear a noise?" demanded the whiskered companion, looking +behind him. + +"I think I do," replied the other musingly. + +"A great noise!" continued Don Whiskerandos. + +"Yes, it seems to me that it is a great noise." + +"Like people shouting?" + +"Somewhat--yes, by my soul, that DOES sound something like a shout!" + +"And there! Don't stop to look and listen, Warham," cried his companion; +"it's no time for meditation. They're coming! hark!--" and with a single +glance behind him--with eyes dilating with the novel apprehensions +of receiving a garment, unsolicited, bestowed by the bounty of the +county--he drove his spurs into the flanks of his mare, and went ahead +like an arrow. Stevens smiled in spite of his vexation. + +"D--n him!" he muttered as he rode forward, "it's some satisfaction, at +least, to scare the soul out of him!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +THE REVELATION. + + + + + +Having seen his enemy fairly mounted, and under way, as he thought, for +Charlemont, Ned Hinkley returned to Ellisland for his own horse. Here +he did not suffer himself to linger, though, before he could succeed +in taking his departure, he was subjected to a very keen and searching +examination by the village publican and politician. Having undergone +this scrutiny with tolerable patience, if not to the entire satisfaction +of the examiner, he set forward at a free canter, determined that his +adversary should not be compelled to wait. + +It was only while he rode that he began to fancy the possibility of the +other having taken a different course; but as, upon reflection, he saw +no other plan which he might have adopted--for lynching for suspected +offences was not yet a popular practice in and about Charlemont--he +contented himself with the reflection that he had done all that could +have been done; and if Alfred Stevens failed to keep his appointment, +he, at least, was one of the losers. He would necessarily lose the +chance of revenging an indignity, not to speak of the equally serious +loss of that enjoyment which a manly fight usually gave to Ned +Hinkley himself, and which, he accordingly assumed, must be an equal +gratification to all other persons. When he arrived at Charlemont, he +did not make his arrival known, but, repairing directly to the lake +among the hills, he hitched his horse, and prepared, with what patience +he could command, to await the coming of the enemy. + +The reader is already prepared to believe that the worthy rustic waited +in vain. It was only with the coming on of night that he began to +consider himself outwitted. He scratched his head impatiently, not +without bringing away some shreds of the hair, jumped on his horse, and, +without making many allowances for the rough and hilly character of the +road, went off at a driving pace for the house of Uncle Hinkley. Here he +drew up only to ask if Brother Stevens had returned. + +"No!" + +"Then, dang it! he never will return. He's a skunk, uncle--as great a +skunk as ever was in all Kentucky!" + +"How! what!--what of Brother Stevens?" demanded the uncle, seconded by +John Cross, who had only some two hours arrived at the village, and now +appeared at the door. But Ned Hinkley was already off. + +"He's a skunk!--that's all!" + +His last words threw very little light over the mystery, and certainly +gave very little satisfaction to his hearers. The absence of Alfred +Stevens, at a time when John Cross was expected, had necessarily +occasioned some surprise; but, of course, no apprehensions were +entertained by either the worthy parson or the bigoted host that he +could be detained by any cause whatsoever which he could not fully +justify. + +The next course of Ned Hinkley was for the cottage of Mr. Calvert. To +the old man he gave a copious detail of all his discoveries--not only +the heads of what he heard from the conspirators in the wood, but +something of the terms of the dialogue. The gravity of Calvert increased +as the other proceeded. He saw more deeply into the signification of +certain portions of this dialogue than did the narrator; and when the +latter, after having expressed his disappointment at the non-appearance +of Stevens on the field of combat, at least congratulated himself at +having driven him fairly from the ground, the other shook his head +mournfully. + +"I am afraid it's too late, my son." + +"Too late, gran'pa! How? Is it ever too late to send such a rascal +a-packing?" + +"It may be for the safety of some, my son." + +"What! Margaret you mean? You think the poor fool of a girl's too far +gone in love of him, do you?" + +"If that were all, Ned--" + +"Why, what more, eh? You don't mean!--" + +The apprehensions of the simple, unsuspecting fellow, for the first time +began to be awakened to the truth. + +"I am afraid, my son, that this wretch has been in Charlemont too long. +From certain words that you have dropped, as coming from Stevens, in +speaking to his comrade, I should regard him as speaking the language of +triumph for successes already gained." + +"Oh, hardly! I didn't think so. If I had only guessed that he meant such +a thing--though I can't believe it--I'd ha' dropped him without a word. +I'd have given him the pacificator as well as the peace-breaker. Oh, no! +I can't think it--I can't--I won't! Margaret Cooper is not a girl to my +liking, but, Lord help us! she's too beautiful and too smart to suffer +such a skunk, in so short a time, to get the whip-hand of her. No, +gran'pa, I can't and won't believe it!" + +"Yet, Ned, these words which you have repeated convey some such fear to +my mind. It may be that the villain was only boasting to his companion. +There are scoundrels in this world who conceive of no higher subject +of boast than the successful deception and ruin of the artless and +confiding. I sincerely hope that this may be the case now--that it was +the mere brag of a profligate, to excite the admiration of his comrade. +But when you speak of the beauty and the smartness of this poor girl, as +of securities for virtue, you make a great mistake. Beauty is more apt +to be a betrayer than a protector; and as for her talent, that is seldom +a protection unless it be associated with humility. Hers was not. She +was most ignorant where she was most assured. She knew just enough to +congratulate herself that she was unlike her neighbors, and this is the +very temper of mind which is likely to cast down its possessor in shame. +I trust that she had a better guardian angel than either her beauty or +her talents. I sincerely hope that she is safe. At all events, let me +caution you not to hint the possibility of its being otherwise. We will +take for granted that Stevens is a baffled villain." + +"I only wish I had dropped him!" + +"Better as it is." + +"What! even if the poor girl is--" + +"Ay, even then!" + +"Why, gran'pa, can it be possible YOU say so?" + +"Yes, my son; I say so here, in moments of comparative calmness, and +in the absence of the villain. Perhaps, were he present, I should say +otherwise." + +"And DO otherwise! You'd shoot him, gran'pa, as soon as I." + +"Perhaps! I think it likely. But, put up your pistols, Ned. You have +nobody now to shoot. Put them up, and let us walk over to your +uncle's at once. It is proper that he and John Cross should know these +particulars." + +Ned agreed to go, but not to put up his pistols. + +"For, you see, gran'pa, this rascal may return. His friend may have kept +him in long talk. We may meet him coming into the village." + +"It is not likely; but come along. Give me that staff, my son, and your +arm on the other side. I feel that my eyes are no longer young." + +"You could shoot still, gran'pa?" + +"Not well." + +"What, couldn't you hit a chap like Stevens between the eyes at ten +paces? I'm sure I could do it, blindfolded, by a sort of instinct." + +And the youth, shutting his eyes, as if to try the experiment, drew +forth one of his pistols from his bosom, and began to direct its muzzle +around the room. + +"There was a black spider THERE, gran'pa! I'm sure, taking him for +Stevens, I could cut his web for him." + +"You have cut that of Stevens himself, and his comb too, Ned." + +"Yes, yes--but what a fool I was not to make it his gills!" + +By this time the old man had got on his spencer, and, with staff in +hand, declared himself in readiness. Ned Hinkley lowered his pistol with +reluctance. He was very anxious to try the weapon and his own aim, on +somebody or something. That black spider which lived so securely in the +domicil of Mr. Calvert would have stood no chance in any apartment of +the widow Hinkley. Even the "pacificator" would have been employed +for its extermination, if, for no other reason, because of the fancied +resemblance which it had always worn to Brother Stevens--a resemblance +which occurred to him, perhaps, in consequence of the supposed +similarity between the arts of the libertine and those for the +entrapping of his victims which distinguish the labors of the spider. + +The two were soon arrived at old Hinkley's, and the tale of Ned was +told; but, such was the bigotry of the hearers, without securing belief. + +"So blessed a young man!" said the old lady. + +"A brand from the burning!" exclaimed Brother Cross. + +"It's all an invention of Satan!" cried old Hinkley, "to prevent the +consummation of a goodly work." + +"We should not give our faith too readily to such devices of the enemy, +Friend Calvert," said John Cross, paternally. + +"I never saw anything in him that wasn't perfectly saint-like," said +Mrs. Hinkley. "He made the most heartfelt prayer, and the loveliest +blessing before meat! I think I hear him now--'Lord, make us +thankful'--with his eyes shut up so sweetly, and with such a voice." + +"There are always some people, Brother Cross, to hate the saints of the +Lord and to slander them! They lie in wait like thieves of the night, +and roaring lions of the wilderness, seeking what they may devour." + +"Ah," exclaimed Brother Cross, "how little do such know that they +devour themselves; for whoso destroyeth his best friend is a devourer of +himself." + +"The blindness of Satan is upon them, and they do his work." + +And thus--purr, purr, purr--they went on, to the end of the chapter. +Poor Ned Hinkley found the whole kennel was upon him. Not only did they +deny everything that could by possibility affect the fair fame of the +absent brother, but, from defending him, they passed, with an easy +transition, to the denunciation of those who were supposed to be his +defamers. In this the worthy old man Calvert came in for his share. + +"All this comes of your supporting that worthless boy of mine in +defiance of my will," said old Hinkley. "You hate Brother Stevens +because that boy hated him, and because I love him." + +"You are mistaken, Mr. Hinkley," said Calvert, mildly. "I hate nobody; +at the same time I suffer no mere prejudices to delude me against sight +and reason." + +"Ah!" said Brother Cross, gently, "it's that very reason, Brother +Calvert, that ruins you worldlings. You must not rely on human reason. +Build on faith, and you build on the Rock of Ages." + +"I propose to use reason only in worldly matters, Mr. Cross," said the +other; "for which use, only, I believe it was given us. I employ it in +reference to a case of ordinary evidence, and I beg your regards now, +while I draw your attention to the use I make of it in the present +instance. Will you hear me without interruption?" + +"Surely, Brother Calvert, but call me not Mr. Cross. I am not a Mister. +I am plain John Cross; by virtue of my business, a brother, if it so +please you to esteem me. Call me Brother Cross, or Brother John Cross, +or plain John Cross, either of these will be acceptable unto me." + +"We are all brothers, or should be," said Calvert; "and it will not +need that there should be any misunderstanding between us on so small a +matter." + +"The matter is not small in the eye of the Lord," said the preacher. +"Titles of vanity become not us, and offend in his hearing." + +The old teacher smiled, but proceeded. + +"Now, Brother Cross, if you will hear me, I will proceed, according to +my reason, to dwell upon the proofs which are here presented to you, of +the worthlessness of this man, Alfred Stevens; and when you consider how +much the feelings and the safety of the daughters of your flock depend +upon the character of those moral and religious teachers to whom the +care of them is intrusted, you will see, I think, the necessity of +listening patiently, and determining without religious prejudice, +according to the truth and reason of the case." + +"I am prepared to listen patiently, Brother Calvert," said John Cross, +clasping his hands together, setting his elbows down upon the table, +shutting his eyes, and turning his face fervently up to heaven. Old +Hinkley imitated this posture quite as nearly as he was able; while +Mrs. Hinkley, sitting between the two, maintained a constant to-and-fro +motion, first on one side, then on the other, as they severally spoke to +the occasion, with her head deferentially bowing, like a pendulum, and +with a motion almost as regular and methodical. The movements of her +nephew, Ned Hinkley, were also a somewhat pleasant study, after a +fashion of his own. Sitting in a corner, he amused himself by drawing +forth his "puppies," and taking occasional aim at a candle or flowerpot; +and sometimes, with some irreverence, at the curved and rather +extravagant proboscis of his worthy uncle, which, cocked up in air, was +indeed something of a tempting object of sight to a person so satisfied +of his skill in shooting as the young rustic. The parties being thus +arranged in a fit attitude for listening, Mr. Calvert began somewhat +after the following fashion:-- + +"Our first knowledge of Alfred Stevens was obtained through Brother John +Cross." + +"And what better introduction would you have?" demanded old Hinkley. + +"None," said the other, "if Brother Cross knew anything about the +party he introduced. But it so happens, as we learn from Brother Cross +himself, that the first acquaintance he had with Stevens was made upon +the road, where Stevens played a trick upon him by giving him brandy to +drink." + +"No trick, Brother Calvert; the young man gave it me as a medicine, took +it as a medicine himself, and, when I bade him, threw away the accursed +beverage." + +"Ordinary men, governed by ordinary reason, Brother Cross, would say +that Stevens knew very well what he was giving you, and that it was a +trick." + +"But only think, Mr. Calvert," said Mrs. Hinkley, lifting her hands +and eyes at the same moment, "the blessed young man threw away the evil +liquor the moment he was told to do so. What a sign of meekness was +that!" + +"I will not dwell on this point," was the reply of Calvert. "He comes +into our village and declares his purpose to adopt the profession of +the preacher, and proceeds to his studies under the direction of Brother +Cross." + +"And didn't he study them?" demanded Mrs. Hinkley. "Wasn't he, late and +early, at the blessed volume? I heard him at all hours above stairs. +Oh! how often was he on his bended knees in behalf of our sinful race, +ungrateful and misbelieving that we are!" + +"I am afraid, madam," said Calvert, "that his studies were scarcely so +profound as you think them. Indeed. I am at a loss to conceive how you +should blind your eyes to the fact that the greater part of his time was +spent among the young girls of the village." + +"And where is it denied," exclaimed old Hinkley, "that the lambs of God +should sport together?" + +"Do not speak in that language, I pray you, Mr. Hinkley," said Calvert, +with something of pious horror in his look; "this young man was no lamb +of God, but, I fear, as you will find, a wolf in the fold. It is, I say, +very well known that he was constantly wandering, even till a late hour +of the night, with one of the village maidens." + +"Who was that one, Brother Calvert?" demanded John Cross. + +"Margaret Cooper." + +"Hem!" said the preacher. + +"Well, he quarrels with my young friend, the worthy son of Brother +Hinkley--" + +"Do not speak of that ungrateful cub. Brother Stevens did not quarrel +with him. He quarrelled with Brother Stevens, and would have murdered +him, but that I put in in time to save." + +"Say not so, Mr. Hinkley. I have good reason to believe that Stevens +went forth especially to fight with William." + +"I would not believe it, if a prophet were to tell me it." + +"Nevertheless, I believe it. We found both of them placed at the usual +fighting-distance." + +"Ah! but where were Brother Stevens's pistols?" + +"In his pocket, I suppose." + +"He had none. He was at a distance from my ungrateful son, and flying +that he should not be murdered. The lamb under the hands of the butcher. +And would you believe it, Brother Cross, he had gone forth only to +counsel the unworthy boy--only to bring him back into the fold--gone +forth at his own prayer, as Brother Stevens declared to Betsy, just +before he went out." + +"I am of opinion that he deceived her and yourself." + +"Where were his pistols then?" + +"He must have concealed them. He told Ned Hinkley, this very day, that +he had pistols, but that they were here." + +"Run up, Betsy, to Brother Stevens's room and see." + +The old lady disappeared. Calvert proceeded. + +"I can only repeat my opinion, founded upon the known pacific and +honorable character of William Hinkley, and certain circumstances in +the conduct of Stevens, that the two did go forth, under a previous +arrangement, to fight a duel. That they were prevented, and that Stevens +had no visible weapon, is unquestionably true. But I do not confine +myself to these circumstances. This young man writes a great many +letters, it is supposed to his friends, but never puts them in the +post here, but every Saturday rides off, as we afterward learn, to the +village of Ellisland, where he deposites them and receive others. This +is a curious circumstance, which alone should justify suspicion. + +"The ways of God are intricate, Brother Calvert," said John Cross, "and +we are not to suspect the truth which we can not understand." + +"But these are the ways of man, Brother Cross." + +"And the man of God is governed by the God which is in him. He obeys a +law which, perhaps, is ordered to be hidden from thy sight." + +"This doctrine certainly confers very extraordinary privileges upon the +man of God," said Calvert, quietly, "and, perhaps, this is one reason +why the profession is so prolific of professors now-a-days; but +the point does not need discussion. Enough has been shown to awaken +suspicion and doubt in the case of any ordinary person; and I now come +to that portion of the affair which is sustained by the testimony of +Ned Hinkley, our young friend here, who, whatever his faults may be, +has been always regarded in Charlemont, as a lover and speaker of the +truth." + +"Ay, ay, so far as he knows what the truth is," said old Hinkley, +scornfully. + +"And I'm just as likely to know what the truth is as you, uncle!',' +retorted the young man, rising and coming forward from his corner. + +"Come, come," he continued, "you're not going to ride rough shod over +me as you did over Cousin Bill. I don't care a snap of the finger, I can +tell you, for all your puffed cheeks and big bellied speeches. I don't, +I tell you!" and suiting the action to the word, the sturdy fellow +snapped his fingers almost under the nose of his uncle, which was now +erected heavenward, with a more scornful pre-eminence than ever. +The sudden entrance of Mrs. Hinkley, from her search after Stevens's +pistols, prevented any rough issue between these new parties, as it +seemed to tell in favor of Stevens. There were no pistols to be found. +The old lady did not add, indeed, that there was nothing of any kind to +be found belonging to the same worthy. + +"There! That's enough!" said old Hinkley. + +"Did you find anything of Stevens's, Mrs. Hinkley?" inquired Mr. +Calvert. + +"Nothing, whatever." + +"Well, madam," said Calvert, "your search, if it proves anything, proves +the story of Ned Hinkley conclusively. This man has carried off all his +chattels." + +John Cross looked down from heaven, and stared inquiringly at Mrs. +Hinkley. + +"Is this true? Have you found nothing, Sister Betsy?" + +"Nothing." + +"And Brother Stevens has not come back?" + +"No!" + +"And reason for it, enough," said old Hinkley. "Didn't you hear that Ned +Hinkley threatened to shoot him if he came back?" + +"Look you, uncle," said the person thus accused, "if you was anybody +else, and a little younger, I'd thrash you for that speech the same as +if it was a lie! I would." + +"Peace!" said Calvert, looking sternly at the youth. Having obtained +temporary silence, he was permitted at length to struggle through his +narrative, and to place, in their proper lights, all the particulars +which Ned Hinkley had obtained at Ellisland. When this was done the +discussion was renewed, and raged, with no little violence, for a full +hour. At length it ceased through the sheer exhaustion of the parties. +Calvert was the first to withdraw from it, as he soon discovered that +such was the bigotry of old Hinkley and his wife, and even of John Cross +himself, that nothing short of divine revelation could persuade them of +the guilt of one who had once made a religious profession. + +Brother Cross, though struck with some of the details which Calvert +had given, was afterward prepared to regard them as rather trivial than +otherwise, and poor Ned was doomed to perceive that the conviction +was general in this holy family, that he had, by his violence, and the +terror which his pistols had inspired, driven away, in desperation, +the most meek and saintly of all possible young apostles. The youth was +nearly furious ere the evening and the discussion were over. It was very +evident to Calvert that nothing was needed, should Stevens come back, +but a bold front and a lying tongue, to maintain his position in the +estimation of the flock, until such time as the truth WOULD make itself +known--a thing which, eventually, always happens. That night Ned Hinkley +dreamed of nothing but of shooting Stevens and his comrade and of +thrashing his uncle. What did Margaret Cooper dream of? + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +STORM AND CONVULSION. + + + + + +What did Margaret Cooper dream of? Disappointment, misery, death. There +was a stern presentiment in her waking thoughts, sufficiently keen and +agonizing to inspire such dreadful apprehensions in her dreams. The +temperament which is sanguine, and which, in a lively mood, inspires +hope, is, at the same time, the source of those dark images of thought +and feeling, which appal it with the most terrifying forms of fear; and +when Saturday and Saturday night came and passed, and Alfred Stevens +did not appear, a lurking dread that would not be chidden or kept down, +continued to rise within her soul, which, without assuming any real form +or decisive speech, was yet suggestive of complete overthrow and ruin. + +Her dreams were of this complexion. She felt herself abandoned. Nor +merely abandoned. She was a victim. In her desolation she had even lost +her pride. She could no longer meet the sneer with scorn. She could +no longer carry a lofty brow among the little circle, who, once having +envied, were now about to despise her. To the impatient spirit, once so +strong--so insolent in its strength--what a pang--what a humiliation +was here! In her dreams she saw the young maidens of the village stand +aloof, as she had once stood aloof from them:--she heard the +senseless titter of their laugh; and she had no courage to resent +the impertinence. Her courage was buried in her shame. No heart is so +cowardly as that which is conscious of guilt. Picture after picture of +this sort did her fancy present to her that night; and when she awoke +the next morning, the sadness of her soul had taken the color of a deep +and brooding misanthropy. Such had been the effect of her dreams. Her +resolution came only from despair; and resolution from such a source, we +well know, is usually only powerful against itself. + +It is one proof of a religious instinct, and of a universal belief in a +controlling and benevolent Deity, that all men however abased, scornful +of divine and human law, invariably, in their moments of desperation, +call upon God. Their first appeal is, involuntarily, to him. The +outlaw, as the fatal bullet pierces his breast--the infidel, sinking +and struggling in the water--the cold stony heart of the murderer, the +miser, the assassin of reputation as of life--all cry out upon God in +the unexpected paroxysms of death. Let us hope that the instinct which +prompts this involuntary appeal for mercy, somewhat helps to secure its +blessings. It is thus also with one who, in the hey-day of the youthful +heart, has lived without thought or prayer--a tumultuous life of uproar +and riot--a long carnival of the passions--the warm blood suppressing +the cool thought, and making the reckless heart impatient of +consideration. Let the sudden emergency arise, with such a heart--let +the blood become stagnant with disease--and the involuntary appeal is +to that God, of whom before there was no thought. We turn to him as to a +father who is equally strong to help and glad to preserve us. + +Margaret Cooper, in the ordinary phrase, had lived without God. Her +God was in her own heart, beheld by the lurid fires of an intense, +unmethodized ambition. Her own strength--or rather the persuasion of her +own strength--had been so great, that hitherto she had seen no necessity +for appealing to any other source of power. She might now well begin to +distrust that strength. She did so. Her desperation was not of that sort +utterly to shut out hope; and, while there is hope, there is yet a moral +assurance that the worst is not yet--perhaps not to be. But she was +humbled--not enough, perhaps--but enough to feel the necessity of +calling in her allies. She dropped by her bedside, in prayer, when +she arose that morning. We do not say that she prayed for forgiveness, +without reference to her future earthly desires. Few of us know how to +simplify our demands upon the Deity to this one. We pray that he may +assist us in this or that grand speculation: the planter for a great +crop; the banker for investments that give him fifty per cent.; the +lawyer for more copious fees; the parson for an increase of salary. How +few pray for mercy--forgiveness for the past--strength to sustain the +struggling conscience in the future! Poor Margaret was no wiser, no +better, than the rest of us. She prayed--silly woman!--that Alfred +Stevens might keep his engagement! + +He did not! That day she was to be married! She had some reference to +this in making her toilet that morning. The garments which she put on +were all of white. A white rose gleamed palely from amid the raven hair +upon her brow. Beautiful was she, exceedingly. How beautiful! but alas! +the garb she wore--the pale, sweet flower on her forehead--they were +mockeries--the emblems of that purity of soul, that innocence of heart, +which were gone--gone for ever! She shuddered as she beheld the flower, +and meditated this thought. Silently she took the flower from her +forehead, and, as if it were precious as that lost jewel of which it +reminded her, she carefully placed it away in her toilet-case. + +Yet her beauty was heightened rather than diminished. Margaret Cooper +was beautiful after no ordinary mould. Tall in stature, with a frame +rounded by the most natural proportions into symmetry, and so formed for +grace; with a power of muscle more than common among women, which, by +inducing activity, made her movements as easy as they were graceful; +with an eye bright like the morning-star, and with a depth of expression +darkly clear, like that of the same golden orb at night; with a face +exquisitely oval; a mouth of great sweetness; cheeks on which the +slightest dash of hue from the red, red rose in June, might be seen to +come and go under the slightest promptings of the active heart within; +a brow of great height and corresponding expansion; with a bust that +impressed you with a sense of the maternal strength which might +be harbored there, even as the swollen bud gives promises of the +full-bosomed luxuriance of the flower when it opens: add to these a +lofty carriage, a look where the quickened spirit seems ever ready for +utterance; a something of eager solemnity in her speech; and a play of +expression on her lips which, if the brow were less lofty and the eye +less keenly bright, might be a smile--and you have some idea of that +noble and lovely temple on which fires of lava had been raised by an +unholy hand; in which a secret worship is carried on which dreads the +light, shrinks from exposure, and trembles to be seen by the very Deity +whose favor it yet seeks in prayer and apprehension. + +These beauties of person as we have essayed, though most feebly, to +describe them, were enhanced rather than lessened by that air of anxiety +by which they were now overcast. Her step was no longer free. It was +marked by an unwonted timidity. Her glance was no longer confident; and +when she looked round upon the faces of the young village-maidens, it +was seen that her lip trembled and moved, but no longer with scorn. If +the truth were told, she now envied the meanest of those maidens that +security which her lack of beauty had guarantied. She, the scorner of +all around her, now envied the innocence of the very meanest of her +companions. + +Such was the natural effect of her unhappy experience upon her heart. +What would she not have given to be like one of them? She dared not take +her place, in the church, among them. It was a dread that kept her back. +Strange, wondrous power of innocence! The guilty girl felt that she +might be repulsed; that her frailty might make itself known--MUST make +itself known; and she would be driven with shame from that communion +with the pure to which she had no longer any claim! She sunk into one of +the humblest seats in the church, drawing her reluctant mother into the +lowly place beside her. + +John Cross did not that day address himself to her case: but sin has +a family similitude among all its members. There is an unmistakeable +likeness, which runs through the connection. If the preacher speaks +fervently to one sin, he is very apt to goad, in some degree, all the +rest: and though Brother Cross had not the most distant idea of singling +out Margaret Cooper for his censure, yet there was a whispering devil at +her elbow that kept up a continual commentary upon what he said, filling +her ears with a direct application of every syllable to her own peculiar +instance. + +"See you not," said the demon, "that every eye is turned upon you? He +sees into your soul; he knows your secret. He declares it, as you hear, +aloud, with a voice of thunder, to all the congregation. Do you not +perceive that you sit alone; that everybody shrinks from your side; that +your miserable old mother alone sits with you; that the eyes of some +watch you with pity, but more with indignation? Look at the young +damsels--late your companions--they are your companions no longer! They +triumph in your shame. Their titter is only suppressed because of the +place in which they are. They ask: 'Is this the maiden who was so wise, +so strong--who scorned us--scorned US, indeed!--and was not able to +baffle the serpent in his very first approaches?' Ha! ha! How they +laugh! Well, indeed, they may. It is very laughable, Margaret--not less +laughable and amusing than strange!--that YOU should have fallen!--so +easily, so blindly--and not even to suspect what every one else was sure +of! O Margaret! Margaret! can it be true? Who will believe in your +wit now, your genius, your beauty? Smutched and smutted! Poor, weak, +degraded! If there is pity for you, Margaret, it is full of mockery too; +it is a pity that is full of bitterness. You should now cast yourself +down, and cover yourself with ashes, and cry, 'Wo is me!' and call upon +the rocks and the hills to cover you!" + +Such was the voice in her soul, which to HER senses seemed like that of +some jibing demon at her elbow. Margaret tried to pray--to expel him by +prayer; but the object of his mockery had not been attained. She could +not surrender herself entirely to the chastener. She was scourged, +but not humbled; and the language of the demon provoked defiance, not +humility. Her proud spirit rose once more against the pressure put upon +it. Her bright, dazzling eye flashed in scorn upon the damsels whom she +now fancied to be actually tittering--scarcely able to suppress their +laughter--at her obvious disgrace. On John Cross she fixed her fearless +eye, like that of some fallen angel, still braving the chastener, +whom he can not contend with. A strange strength--for even sin has its +strength for a season--came to her relief in that moment of fiendish +mockery. The strength of an evil spirit was accorded her. Her heart once +more swelled with pride. Her soul once more insisted on its ascendency. +She felt, though she did not say:-- + +"Even as I am, overthrown, robbed of my treasure, I feel that I am +superior to these. I feel that I have strength against the future. If +they are pure and innocent, it is not because of their greater strength, +but their greater obscurity. If I am overthrown by the tempter, it was +because I was the more worthy object of overthrow. In their littleness +they live: if I am doomed to the shaft, at least it will be as the +eagle is doomed; it will be while soaring aloft--while aiming for the +sun--while grasping at the very bolt by which I am destroyed!" + +Such was the consolation offered by the twin-demons of pride and vanity. +The latter finds its aliment in the heart which it too completely +occupies, even from those circumstances which, in other eyes, make its +disgrace and weakness. The sermon which had touched her sin had not +subdued it. Perhaps no sermon, no appeal, however powerful and touching, +could at that moment have had power over her. The paroxysm of her first +consciousness of ruin had not yet passed off. The condition of mind was +not yet reached in which an appeal could be felt. + +As in the case of physical disease, so with that of the mind and heart, +there is a period when it is neither useful nor prudent to administer +the medicines which are yet most necessary to safety. The judicious +physician will wait for the moment when the frame is prepared--when the +pulse is somewhat subdued--before he tries the most powerful remedy. The +excitement of the wrong which she had suffered was still great in her +bosom. It was necessary that she should have repose. That excitement +was maintained by the expectation that Stevens would yet make his +appearance. Her eye, at intervals, wandered over the assembly in search +of him. The demon at her elbow understood her quest. + +"He will not come," it said; "you look in vain. The girls follow your +eyes; they behold your disappointment; they laugh at your credulity. +If he leads any to the altar, think you it will be one whom he could +command at pleasure without any such conditions--one who, in her wild +passions and disordered vanity, could so readily yield to his desires, +without demanding any corresponding sacrifices? Margaret, they laugh +now at those weaknesses of a mind which they once feared if not honored. +They wonder, now, that they could have been so deceived. If they do +not laugh aloud, Margaret, it is because they would spare your shame. +Indeed, indeed, they pity you!" + +The head of the desperate, but still haughty woman, was now more proudly +uplifted, and her eyes shot forth yet fiercer fires of indignation. +What a conflict was going on in her bosom. Her cheeks glowed with the +strife--her breast heaved; with difficulty she maintained her seat +inflexibly, and continued, without other signs of discomposure, until +the service was concluded. Her step was more stately than ever as she +walked from church; and while her mother lingered behind to talk with +Brother Cross, and to exchange the sweetest speeches with the +widow Thackeray and others, she went on alone--seeing none, heeding +none--dreading to meet any face lest it should wear a smile and look the +language in which the demon at her side still dealt. HE still clung to +her, with the tenacity of a fiendish purpose. He mocked her with her +shame, goading her, with dart upon dart, of every sort of mockery. Truly +did he mutter in her ears:-- + +"Stevens has abandoned you. Never was child, before yourself, so silly +as to believe such a promise as he made you. Do you doubt?--do you still +hope? It is madness? Why came he not yesterday--last night--to-day? He +is gone. He has abandoned you. You are not only alone--you are lost! +lost for ever!" + +The tidings of this unsolicited attendant were confirmed the next day, +by the unsuspecting John Cross. He came to visit Mrs. Cooper and her +daughter among the first of his parishioners. He had gathered from the +villagers already that Stevens had certainly favored Miss Cooper beyond +all the rest of the village damsels. Indeed, it was now generally +bruited that he was engaged to her in marriage. Though the worthy +preacher had very stoutly resisted the suggestions of Mr. Calvert, and +the story of Ned Hinkley, he was yet a little annoyed by them; and he +fancied that, if Stevens were, indeed, engaged to Margaret, she, or +perhaps the old lady, might relieve his anxiety by accounting for the +absence of his protege. The notion of Brother John was, that, having +resolved to marry the maiden, he had naturally gone home to apprize his +parents and to make the necessary preparations. + +But this conjecture brought with it a new anxiety. It, now, for the +first time, seemed something strange that Stevens had never declared to +himself, or to anybody else who his parents were--what they were--where +they were--what business they pursued; or anything about them. Of his +friends, they knew as little. The simple old man had never thought of +these things, until the propriety of such inquiries was forced upon him +by the conviction that they would now be made in vain. The inability to +answer them, when it was necessary that an answer should be found, was +a commentary upon his imprudence which startled the good old man not +a little. But, in the confident hope that a solution of the difficulty +could be afforded by the sweetheart or the mother, he proceeded to her +cottage. Of course, Calvert, in his communication to him, had forborne +those darker conjectures which he could not help but entertain; and his +simple auditor, unconscious himself of any thought of evil, had never +himself formed any such suspicions. + +Margaret Cooper was in her chamber when Brother Cross arrived. She had +lost that elasticity of temper which would have carried her out at +that period among the hills in long rambles, led by those wild, wooing +companions, which gambol along the paths of poetic contemplation. The +old man opened his stores of scandal to Mrs. Cooper with little or no +hesitation. He told her all that Calvert had said, all that Ned Hinkley +had fancied himself to have heard, and all the village tattle touching +the engagement supposed to exist between Stevens and her daughter. + +"Of course, Sister Cooper," said he, "I believe nothing of this sort +against the youth. I should be sorry to think it of one whom I plucked +as a brand from the burning. I hold Brother Stevens to be a wise young +man and a pious; and truly I fear, as indeed I learn, that there is in +the mind of Ned Hinkley a bitter dislike to the youth, because of some +quarrel which Brother Stevens is said to have had with William Hinkley. +This dislike hath made him conceive evil things of Brother Stevens +and to misunderstand and to pervert some conversation which he hath +overheard which Stevens hath had with his companion. Truly, indeed, I +think that Alfred Stevens is a worthy youth of whom we shall hear a good +account." + +"And I think so too, Brother Cross. Brother Stevens will be yet a +burning and a shining light in the church. There is a malice against +him; and I think I know the cause, Brother Cross." + +"Ah! this will be a light unto our footsteps, Sister Cooper." + +"Thou knowest, Brother Cross," resumed the old lady in a subdued tone +but with a loftier elevation of eyebrows and head--"thou knowest the +great beauty of my daughter Margaret?" + +"The maiden is comely, sister, comely among the maidens; but beauty is +grass. It is a flower which blooms at morning and is cut down in the +evening. It withereth on the stalk where it bloomed, until men turn from +it with sickening and with sorrow, remembering what it hath been. Be not +boastful of thy daughter's beauty, Sister Cooper, it is the beauty of +goodness alone which dieth not." + +"But said I not, Brother Cross, of her wisdom, and her wit, as well +as her beauty?" replied the old lady with some little pique. "I was +forgetful of much, if I spoke only of the beauty of person which +Margaret Cooper surely possesseth, and which the eyes of blindness +itself might see." + +"Dross, dross all, Sister Cooper. The wit of man is a flash which +blindeth and maketh dark; and the wisdom of man is a vain thing. The one +crackleth like thorns beneath the pot--the other stifleth the heart and +keepeth down the soul from her true flight. I count the wit and wisdom +of thy daughter even as I count her beauty. She hath all, I think--as +they are known to and regarded by men. But all is nothing. Beauty hath a +day's life like the butterfly; wit shineth like the sudden flash of the +lightning, leaving only the cloud behind it; and oh! for the vain wisdom +of man which makes him vain and unsteady--likely to falter--liable +to fall--rash in his judgment--erring in his aims--blind to his +duty--wilful in his weakness--insolent to his fellow--presumptuous in +the sight of God. Talk not to me of worldly wisdom. It is the foe to +prayer and meekness. The very fruit of the tree which brought sin and +death into the world. Thy daughter is fair to behold--very fair among +the maidens of our flock--none fairer, none so fair: God hath otherwise +blessed her with a bright mind and a quick intelligence; but I think not +that she is wise to salvation. No, no! she hath not yearned to the holy +places of the tabernacle, unless it be that Brother Stevens hath been +more blessed in his ministry than I!" + +"And he hath!" exclaimed the mother. "I tell you, Brother John, the +heart of Margaret Cooper is no longer what it was. It is softened. The +toils of Brother Stevens have not been in vain. Blessed young man, +no wonder they hate and defame him. He hath had a power over Margaret +Cooper such as man never had before; and it is for this reason that Bill +Hinkley and Ned conspired against him, first to take his life, and then +to speak evil of his deeds. They beheld the beauty of my daughter, and +they looked on her with famishing eyes. She sent them a-packing, I tell +you. But this youth, Brother Stevens, found favor in her heart. They +beheld the two as they went forth together. Ah! Brother John, it is +the sweetest sight to behold two young, loving people walk forth in +amity--born, as it would seem, for each other; both so tall, and young, +and handsome; walking together with such smiles, as if there was no +sorrow in the world; as if there was nothing but flowers and sweetness +on the path; as if they could see nothing but one another; and as if +there were no enemies looking on. It did my heart good to see them, +Brother Cross; they always looked so happy with one another." + +"And you think, Sister Cooper, that Brother Stevens hath agreed to take +Margaret to wife?" + +"She hath not told me this yet, but in truth, I think it hath very nigh +come to that." + +"Where is she?" + +"In her chamber." + +"Call her hither, Sister Cooper; let us ask of her the truth." + +Margaret Cooper was summoned, and descended with slow steps and an +unwilling spirit to meet their visiter. + +"Daughter," said the good old man, taking her hand, and leading her to a +seat, "thou art, even as thy mother sayest, one of exceeding beauty. Few +damsels have ever met mine eyes with a beauty like to thine. No wonder +the young men look on thee with eyes of love; but let not the love of +youth betray thee. The love of God is the only love that is precious to +the heart of wisdom." + +Thus saying, the old man gazed on her with as much admiration as was +consistent with the natural coldness of his temperament, his years, and +his profession. His address, so different from usual, had a soothing +effect upon her. A sigh escaped her, but she said nothing. He then +proceeded to renew the history which had been given to him and which +he had already detailed to her mother. She heard him with patience, in +spite of all his interpolations from Scripture, his ejaculations, his +running commentary upon the narrative, and the numerous suggestive +topics which took him from episode to episode, until the story seemed +interminably mixed up in the digression. + +But when he came to that portion which related to the adventure of +Ned Hinkley, to his espionage, the conference of Stevens with his +companion--then she started--then her breathing became suspended, then +quickened--then again suspended--and then, so rapid in its rush, that +her emotion became almost too much for her powers of suppression. + +But she did suppress it, with a power, a resolution, not often +paralleled among men--still more seldom among women. After the first +spasmodic acknowledgment given by her surprise, she listened with +comparative calmness. She, alone, had the key to that conversation. She, +alone, knew its terrible signification. She knew that Ned Hinkley was +honest--was to be believed--that he was too simple, and too sincere, for +any such invention; and, sitting with hands clasped upon that chair--the +only attitude which expressed the intense emotion which she felt--she +gazed with unembarrassed eye upon the face of the speaker, while every +word which he spoke went like some keen, death-giving instrument into +her heart. + +The whole dreadful history of the villany of Stevens, her irreparable +ruin--was now clearly intelligible. The mocking devil at her elbow had +spoken nothing but the truth. She was indeed the poor victim of a crafty +villain. In the day of her strength and glory she had fallen--fallen, +fallen, fallen! + +"Why am I called to hear this?" she demanded with singular composure. + +The old man and the mother explained in the same breath--that she might +reveal the degree of intercourse which had taken place between them, +and, if possible, account for the absence of her lover. That, in short, +she might refute the malice of enemies and establish the falsehood of +their suggestions. + +"You wish to know if I believe this story of Ned Hinkley?" + +"Even so, my daughter." + +"Then, I do!" + +"Ha! what is it you say, Margaret?" + +"The truth." + +"What?" demanded the preacher, "you can not surely mean that Brother +Stevens hath been a wolf in sheep's clothing--that he hath been a +hypocrite." + +"Alas!" thought Margaret Cooper--"have I not been my own worst +enemy--did I not know him to be this from the first?" + +Her secret reflection remained, however, unspoken. She answered the +demand of John Cross without a moment's hesitation. + +"I believe that Alfred Stevens is all that he is charged to be--a +hypocrite--a wolf in sheep's clothing!--I see no reason to doubt the +story of Ned Hinkley. He is an honest youth." + +The old lady was in consternation. The preacher aghast and confounded. + +"Tell me, Margaret," said the former, "hath he not engaged himself to +you? Did he not promise--is he not sworn to be your husband?" + +"I have already given you my belief. I see no reason to say anything +more. What more do you need? Is he not gone--fled--has he not failed--" + +She paused abruptly, while a purple flush went over her face. She rose +to retire. + +"Margaret!" exclaimed the mother. + +"My daughter!" said John Cross. + +"Speak out what you know--tell us all--" + +"No! I will say no more. You know enough already. I tell you, I believe +Alfred Stevens to be a hypocrite and a villain. Is not that enough? What +is it to you whether he is so or not? What is it to me, at least? You +do not suppose that it is anything to me? Why should you? What should he +be? I tell you he is nothing to me--nothing--nothing--nothing! Villain +or hypocrite, or what not--he is no more to me than the earth on which +I tread. Let me hear no more about him, I pray you. I would not hear his +name! Are there not villains enough in the world, that you should think +and speak of one only?" + +With these vehement words she left the room, and hurried to her chamber. +She stopped suddenly before the mirror. + +"And is it thus!" she exclaimed--"and I am--" + +The mother by this time had followed her into the room. + +"What is the meaning of this, Margaret?--tell me!" cried the old woman +in the wildest agitation. + +"What should it be, mother? Look at me!--in my eyes--do they not tell +you? Can you not read?" + +"I see nothing--I do not understand you, Margaret." + +"Indeed! but you shall understand me! I thought my face would tell you +without my words. _I_ see it there, legible enough, to myself. Look +again!--spare me if you can--spare your own ears the necessity of +hearing me speak!" + +"You terrify me, Margaret--I fear you are out of your mind. + +"No! no! that need not be your fear; nor, were it true, would it be a +fear of mine. It might be something to hope--to pray for. It might +bring relief. Hear me, since you will not see. You ask me why I believe +Stevens to be a villain. I KNOW it." + +"Ha! how know it!" + +"How! How should I know it? Well, I see that I must speak. Listen then. +You bade me seek and make a conquest of him, did you not? Do not deny +it, mother--you did." + +"Well, if I did?" + +"I succeeded! Without trying, I succeeded! He declared to me his +love--he did!--he promised to marry me. He was to have married me +yesterday--to have met me in church and married me. John Cross was +to have performed the ceremony. Well! you saw me there--you saw me in +white--the dress of a bride!--Did he come? Did you see him there? Did +you see the ceremony performed?" + +"No, surely not--you know without asking." + +"I know without asking!--surely I do!--but look you, mother--do you +think that conquests are to be made, hearts won, loves confessed, +pledges given, marriage-day fixed--do these things take place, as +matters of pure form? Is there no sensation--no agitation--no beating +and violence about the heart--in the blood--in the brain! I tell you +there is--a blinding violence, a wild, stormy, sensation--fondness, +forgetfulness, madness! I say, madness! madness! madness!" + +"Oh, my daughter, what can all this mean? Speak calmly, be deliberate!" + +"Calm! deliberate! What a monster if I could be! But I am not mad now. +I will tell you what it means. It means that, in taking captive Alfred +Stevens--in winning a lover--securing that pious young man--there was +some difficulty, some peril. Would you believe it?--there were some +privileges which he claimed. He took me in his arms. Ha! ha! He held me +panting to his breast. His mouth filled mine with kisses--" + +"No more, do not say more, my child!" + +"Ay, more! more! much more! I tell you--then came blindness and madness, +and I was dishonored--made a woman before I was made a wife! Ruined, +lost, abused, despised, abandoned! Ha! ha! ha! no marriage ceremony. +Though I went to the church. No bridegroom there, though he promised to +come. Preacher, church, bride, all present, yet no wedding. Ha! ha! ha! +How do I know!--Good reason for it, good reason--Ha! ha!--ah!" + +The paroxysm, terminated in a convulsion. The unhappy girl fell to the +floor as if stricken in the forehead. The blood gushed from her mouth +and nostrils, and she lay insensible in the presence of the terrified +and miserable mother. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +THE FATES FIND THE DAGGER AND THE BOWL. + + + + + +For a long time she lay without showing any signs of life. Her passions +rebelled against the restraint which her mind had endeavored to put upon +them. Their concentrated force breaking all bonds, so suddenly, was like +the terrific outburst of the boiling lava from the gorges of the frozen +mountain. Believing her dead, the mother rushed headlong into the +highway, rending the village with her screams. She was for the time +a perfect madwoman. The neighbors gathered to her assistance. That +much-abused woman, the widow Thackeray, was the first to come. Never was +woman's tenderness more remarkable than hers--never was woman's watch by +the bed of sickness and suffering--that watch which woman alone knows +so well how to keep--more rigidly maintained than by her! From the first +hour of that agony under which Margaret Cooper fell to earth insensible, +to the last moment in which her recovery was doubtful, that widow +Thackeray--whose passion for a husband had been described by Mrs. Cooper +as so very decided and evident--maintained her place by the sick bed of +the stricken girl with all the affection of a mother. Widow Thackeray +was a woman who could laugh merrily, but she could shed tears with +equal readiness. These were equally the signs of prompt feeling and nice +susceptibility; and the proud Margaret, and her invidious mother, were +both humbled by that spontaneous kindness for which, hitherto, they had +given the possessor so very little credit, and to which they were now +equally so greatly indebted. + +Medical attendance was promptly secured. Charlemont had a very clever +physician of the old school. He combined as was requisite in the +forest region of our country, the distinct offices of the surgeon and +mediciner. He was tolerably skilful in both departments. He found +his patient in a condition of considerable peril. She had broken a +blood-vessel; and the nicest care and closest attendance were necessary +to her preservation. It will not need that we should go through the long +and weary details which followed to her final cure. Enough, that she did +recover. But for weeks her chance was doubtful. She lay for that space +of time, equally in the arms of life and death. For a long period, she +herself was unconscious of her situation. + +When she came to know, the skill of her attendants derived very little +aid from her consciousness. Her mind was unfavorable to her cure; and +this, by the way, is a very important particular in the fortunes of the +sick. To despond, to have a weariness of life, to forbear hope as well +as exertion, is, a hundred to one, to determine against the skill of +the physician. Margaret Cooper felt a willingness to die. She felt her +overthrow in the keenest pangs of its shame; and, unhappily, the mother, +in her madness, had declared it. + +The story of her fall--of the triumph of the serpent--was now the +village property, and of course put an end to all further doubts on the +score of the piety of Brother Stevens; though, by way of qualification +of his offence, old Hinkley insisted that it was the fault of the poor +damsel. + +"She," he said, "had tempted him--had thrown herself in his way--had +been brazen," and all that, of which so much is commonly said in all +similar cases. We, who know the character of the parties, and have +traced events from the beginning, very well know how little of this +is true. Poor Margaret was a victim before she was well aware of those +passions which made her so. She was the victim not of lust but of +ambition. Never was woman more unsophisticated--less moved by unworthy +and sinister design. She had her weaknesses--her pride, her vanity; and +her passions, which were tremendous, worked upon through these, very +soon effected her undoing. But, for deliberate purpose of evil--of any +evil of which her own intellect was conscious--the angels were not more +innocent. + +But mere innocence of evil design, in any one particular condition, +is not enough for security. We are not only to forbear evil; virtue +requires that we should be exercised for the purposes of good. She +lacked the moral strength which such exercises, constantly pursued, +would have assured her. She was a creature of impulse only, not of +reflection. Besides, she was ignorant of her particular weaknesses. She +was weak where she thought herself strong. This is always the error of +a person having a very decided will. The will is constantly mistaken +for the power. She could not humble herself, and in her own personal +capacities--capacities which had never before been subjected to any +ordeal-trial--she relied for the force which was to sustain her in every +situation. Fancy a confident country-girl--supreme in her own district +over the Hobs and Hinnies thereabouts--in conflict with the adroit man +of the world, and you have the whole history of Margaret Cooper, and +the secret of her misfortune. Let the girl have what natural talent you +please, and the case is by no means altered. She must fall if she +seeks or permits the conflict. She can only escape by flight. It is in +consideration of this human weakness, that we pray God, nightly, not to +suffer us to be exposed to temptation. + +When the personal resources of her own experience and mind failed +Margaret Cooper, as at some time or other they must fail all who trust +only in them, she had no further reliance. She had never learned to draw +equal strength and consolation from the sweet counsels of the sacred +volume. Regarding the wild raving and the senseless insanity, which +are but too frequently the language of the vulgar preacher, as gross +ignorance and debasing folly, she committed the unhappy error of +confounding the preacher with his cause. She had never been taught to +make an habitual reference to religion; and her own experience of life, +had never forced upon her those sage reflections which would have shown +her that TRUE religion is the very all of life, and without it life has +nothing. The humility of the psalmist, which was the real source of all +the strength allotted to the monarch minstrel, was an unread lesson with +her; and never having been tutored to refer to God, and relying upon +her own proud mind and daring imagination, what wonder that these frail +reeds should pierce her side while giving way beneath her. + +It was this very confidence in her own strength--this fearlessness +of danger (and we repeat the lesson here, emphatically, by way of +warning)--a confidence which the possession of a quick and powerful mind +naturally enough inspires--that effected her undoing. It was not by the +force of her affections that she fell. THE AFFECTIONS ARE NOT APT TO BE +STRONG IN A WOMAN WHOSE MIND LEADS HER OUT FROM HER SEX! + +The seducer triumphed through the medium of her vanity. Her feeling of +self-assurance had been thus active from childhood, and conspicuous in +all her sports and employments. SHE HAD NEVER BEEN A CHILD HERSELF. SHE +LED ALWAYS IN THE PASTIMES OF HER PLAYMATES, MANY OF WHOM WERE OLDER +THAN HERSELF. + +She had no fears when others trembled; and, if she did not, at any time, +so far transcend the bounds of filial duty as to defy the counsels of +her parents, it was certainly no less true that she never sought for, +and seldom seemed to need them. IT IS DANGEROUS WHEN THE WOMAN, THROUGH +SHEER CONFIDENCE IN HER OWN STRENGTH, VENTURES UPON THE VERGE OF +THE MORAL PRECIPICE. THEY VERY EXPERIMENTAL, WHERE THE PASSIONS ARE +CONCERNED, PROVES HER TO BE LOST. + +Margaret Cooper, confident in her own footsteps, soon learned to despise +every sort of guardianship. The vanity of her mother had not only +counselled and stimulated her own, but was of that gross and silly +order, as to make itself offensive to the judgment of the girl herself. +This had the effect of losing her all the authority of a parent; and we +have already seen, in the few instances where this authority took the +shape of counsel, that its tendency was to evil rather than to good. + +The arts of Alfred Stevens had, in reality, been very few. It was only +necessary that he should read the character of his victim. This, as an +experienced worldling--experienced in such a volume--he was soon very +able to do. He saw enough to discover, that, while Margaret Cooper was +endowed by nature with an extraordinary measure of intellect, she was +really weak because of its possession. In due proportion to the degree +of exercise to which she subjected her mere mind--making that busy and +restless--was the neglect of her sensibilities--those nice ANTENNAE OF +THE HEART. + +"Whose instant touches, slightest pause," + +teach the approach of the smallest forms of danger, however inoffensive +their shapes, however unobtrusive their advance. When the sensibilities +are neglected and suffered to fall into disrepute, they grow idle first, +and finally obtuse! even as the limb which you forbear to exercise loses +its muscle, and withers into worthlessness. + +When Alfred Stevens discovered this condition, his plan was simple +enough. He had only to stimulate her mind into bolder exercise--to +conduct it to topics of the utmost hardihood--to inspire that sort of +moral recklessness which some people call courage--which delights to +sport along the edge of the precipice, and to summon audacious spirits +from the great yawning gulfs which lie below. This practice is always +pursued at the expense of those guardian feelings which keep watch over +the virtues of the tender heart. + +The analysis of subjects commonly forbidden to the sex, necessarily +tends to make dull those habitual sentinels over the female conduct. +These sentinels are instincts rather than principles. Education can take +them away, but does not often confer them. When, through the arts of +Alfred Stevens, Margaret Cooper was led to discuss, perhaps to despise, +those nice and seemingly purposeless barriers which society--having +the experience of ages for its authority--has wisely set up between the +sexes--she had already taken a large stride toward passing them. But of +this, which a judicious education would have taught her, she was wholly +ignorant. Her mind was too bold to be scrupulous; too adventurous to be +watchful; and if, at any moment, a pause in her progress permitted her +to think of the probable danger to her sex of such adventurous freedom, +she certainly never apprehended it in her own case. Such restraints she +conceived to be essential only for the protection of THE WEAK among +her sex. Her vanity led her to believe that she was strong; and the +approaches of the sapper were conducted with too much caution, with a +progress too stealthy and insensible, to startle the ear or attract the +eye of the unobservant, yet keen-eyed guardian of her citadel. An eagle +perched upon a rock, with wing outspread for flight, and an eye fixed +upon the rolling clouds through which it means to dart, is thus heedless +of the coiled serpent which lies beneath its feet. + +The bold eye of Margaret Cooper was thus heedless. Gazing upon the sun, +she saw not the serpent at her feet. It was not because she slept: never +was eye brighter, more far-stretching; never was mind more busy, more +active, than that of the victim at the very moment when she fell. It was +because she watched the remote, not the near--the region in which there +was no enemy, nothing but glory--and neglected that post which is always +in danger. Her error is that of the general who expends his army upon +some distant province, leaving his chief city to the assault and sack of +the invader. + +We have dwelt somewhat longer upon the moral causes which, in our story, +have produced such cruel results, than the mere story itself demands; +but no story is perfectly moral unless the author, with a wholesome +commentary, directs the attention of the reader to the true weaknesses +of his hero, to the point where his character fails; to the causes of +this failure, and the modes in which it may be repaired or prevented. +In this way alone may the details of life and society be properly welded +together into consistent doctrine, so that instruction may keep pace +with delight, and the heart and mind be informed without being conscious +of any of those tasks which accompany the lessons of experience. + +To return now to our narrative. + +Margaret Cooper lived! She might as well have died. This was HER +thought, at least. She prayed for death. Was it in mercy that her prayer +was denied? We shall see! Youth and a vigorous constitution successfully +resisted the attacks of the assailant. They finally obtained the +victory. After a weary spell of bondage and suffering, she recovered. +But she recovered only to the consciousness of a new affliction. All the +consequences of her fatal lapse from virtue have not yet been told. She +bore within her an indelible witness of her shame. She was destined to +be a mother without having been a wife! + +This, to her mother at least, was a more terrible discovery than the +former. She literally cowered and crouched beneath it. It was the +WRITTEN shame, rather than the actual, which the old woman dreaded. She +had been so vain, so criminally vain, of her daughter--she had made +her so constantly the subject of her brag--that, unwitting of having +declared the whole melancholy truth, in the first moment of her madness, +she shrank, with an unspeakable horror, from the idea that the little +world in which she lived should become familiar with the whole cruel +history of her overthrow. She could scarcely believe it herself though +the daughter, with an anguish in her eyes that left little to be told, +had herself revealed the truth. Her pride as well as her life, was +linked with the pride and the beauty of her child. She had shared in +her constant triumphs over all around her; and overlooking, as a fond, +foolish mother is apt to do, all her faults of temper or of judgment, +she had learned to behold nothing but her superiority. And now to see +her fallen! a thing of scorn, which was lately a thing of beauty!--the +despised, which was lately the worshipped and the wondered at! No wonder +that her weak, vain heart was crushed and humbled, and her head bowed in +sorrow to the earth. She threw herself upon the floor, and wept bitter +and scalding tears. + +The daughter had none. Without sob or sigh, she stooped down and +tenderly assisted the old woman to rise. Why had she no tears? She asked +herself this question, but in vain. Her external emotions promised +none. Indeed, she seemed to be without emotions. A weariness and general +indifference to all things was now the expression of her features. +But this was the deceitful aspect of the mountain, on whose breast +contemplation sits with silence, unconscious of the tossing flame which +within is secretly fusing the stubborn metal and the rock. Anger was in +her breast--feelings of hate mingled up with shame--scorn of herself, +scorn of all--feelings of defiance and terror, striving at mastery; and, +in one corner, a brooding image of despair, kept from the brink of the +precipice only by the entreaties of some fiercer principle of hate. She +felt life to be insupportable. Why did she live? This question came to +her repeatedly. The demon was again at work beside her. + +"Die!" said he. "It is but a blow--a moment's pang--the driving a needle +into an artery--the prick of a pin upon the heart. Die! it will save you +from exposure--the shame of bringing into the world an heir of shame! +What would you live for? The doors of love, and fame, even of society, +are shut against you for ever. What is life to you now? a long denial--a +protracted draught of bitterness--the feeling of a death-spasm +carried on through sleepless years; perhaps, under a curse of peculiar +bitterness, carried on even into age! Die! you can not be so base as to +wish for longer life!" + +The arguments of the demon were imposing. His suggestions seemed to +promise the relief she sought. Hers seemed the particular case where the +prayer is justified which invokes the mountains and the rocks upon the +head of the guilty. But the rock refused to fall, the mountain to cover +her shame, and its exposure became daily more and more certain. Death +was the only mode of escape from the mountain of pain which seemed to +rest upon her heart. The means of self-destruction were easy. With +a spirit so impetuous as hers, to imagine was to determine. She did +determine. Yet, even while making so terrible a resolve, a singular calm +seemed to overspread her soul. She complained of nothing--wished for +nothing--sought for nothing--trembled at nothing. A dreadful lethargy, +which made the old mother declaim as against a singular proof of +hardihood, possessed her spirit. Little did the still-idolizing mother +conjecture how much that lethargy concealed! + +The moment that Margaret Cooper conceived the idea of suicide, it +possessed all her mind. It became the one only thought. There were few +arguments against it, and these she rapidly dismissed or overcame. To +leave her mother in her old age was the first which offered itself; but +this became a small consideration when she reflected that the latter +could not, under any circumstances, require her assistance very long; +and to spare her the shame of public exposure was another consideration. +The evils of the act to herself were reduced with equal readiness to the +transition from one state to another by a small process, which, whether +by the name of stab or shot, was productive only of a momentary spasm; +for, though as fully persuaded of the soul's immortality as the best +of us, the unhappy girl, like all young free-thinkers, had persuaded +herself that, in dying by her own hands, she was simply exercising a +discretionary power under the conviction that her act in doing so was +rendered by circumstances a judicious one. The arguments by which +she deceived herself are sufficiently commonplace, and too easy of +refutation, to render necessary any discussion of them here. Enough to +state the fact. She deliberately resolved upon the fatal deed which +was to end her life and agony together, and save her from that more +notorious exposure which must follow the birth of that child of sin whom +she deemed it no more than a charity to destroy. + +There was an old pair of pistols in the house, which had been the +property of her father. She had often, with a boldness not common to the +sex, examined these pistols. They were of brass, well made, of English +manufacture, with common muzzles, and a groove for a sight instead of +the usual drop. They were not large, but, in a practised hand, were +good travelling-pistols, being capable of bringing down a man at twelve +paces, provided there was anything like deliberation in the holder. +Often and again had she handled these weapons, poising them and +addressing them at objects as she had seen her father do. On +one occasion she had been made to discharge them, under his own +instructions; she had done so without terror. She recalled these events. +She had seen the pistols loaded. She did not exactly know what quantity +of powder was necessary for a charge, but she was in no mood to +calculate the value of a thimbleful. + +Availing herself of the temporary absence of her mother, she possessed +herself of these weapons. Along with them, in the same drawer, she found +a horn which still contained a certain quantity of powder. There were +bullets in the bag with the pistols which precisely fitted them. There, +too, was the mould--there were flints--the stock was sufficiently ample +for all her desires; and she surveyed the prize, in her own room, with +the look of one who congratulates himself in the conviction that he +holds in his hand the great medicine which is to cure his disease. +In her chamber she loaded the weapons, and, with such resignation as +belonged to her philosophy, she waited for the propitious moment when +she might complete the deed. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +FOLDING THE ROBES ABOUT HER. + + + + + +It was the sabbath and a very lovely day. The sun never shone more +brightly in the heavens; and as Margaret Cooper surveyed its mellow +orange light, lying, like some blessed spirit, at sleep upon the hills +around her, and reflected that she was about to behold it for the last +time, her sense of its exceeding beauty became more strong than ever. +Now that she was about to lose it for ever, it seemed more beautiful +than it had ever been before. + +This is a natural effect, which the affections confer upon the objects +which delight and employ them. Even a temporary privation increases the +loveliness of the external nature. How we linger and look. That shade +seems so inviting; that old oak so venerable! That rock--how often have +we sat upon it, evening and morning, and mused strange, wild, sweet +fancies! It is an effort to tear one's self away--it is almost like +tearing away from life itself; so many living affections feel the +rending and the straining--so many fibres that have their roots in the +heart, are torn and lacerated by the separation. + +Poor Margaret! she looked from her window upon the bright and beautiful +world around her. Strange that sorrow should dwell in a world so bright +and beautiful! Stranger still, that, dwelling in such a world, it should +not dwell there by sufferance only and constraint! that it should have +such sway--such privilege. That it should invade every sanctuary and +leave no home secure. Ah! but the difference between mere sorrow and +guilt! Poor Margaret could not well understand that! If she could--but +no! She was yet to learn that the sorrows of the innocent have a healing +effect. That they produce a holy and ennobling strength, and a juster +appreciation of those evening shades of life which render the lights +valuable and make their uses pure. It is only guilt which finds life +loathsome. It is only guilt that sorrow weakens and enslaves. Virtue +grows strong beneath the pressure of her enemies, and with such a power +as was fabled of the king of Pontus, turns the most poisonous fruits of +earth into the most wholesome food. + +But, even in the heart of Margaret Cooper, where the sense of the +beautiful was strong, the loveliness of the scene was felt. She drank +in, with strange satisfaction--a satisfaction to which she had long +been a stranger--its soft and inviting beauties. They did not lessen her +sense of suffering, perhaps, but they were not without their effect in +producing other moods, which, once taken in company with the darker ones +of the soul, may, in time, succeed in alleviating them. Never, indeed, +had the prospect been more calm and wooing. Silence, bending from the +hills, seemed to brood above the valley even as some mighty spirit, +at whose bidding strife was hushed, and peace became the acknowledged +divinity of all. The humming voices of trade and merriment were all +hushed in homage to the holy day; and if the fitful song of a truant +bird, that presumed beside the window of Margaret Cooper, did break the +silence of the scene, it certainly did not disturb its calm. The forest +minstrel sung in a neighboring tree, and she half listened to his lay. +The strain seemed to sympathize with her sadness. She thought upon her +own songs, which had been of such a proud spirit; and how strange and +startling seemed the idea that with her, song would soon cease for ever. +The song of the bird would be silent in her ears, and her own song! What +song would be hers? What strain would she take up? In what abode--before +what altars? + +This train of thought, which was not entirely lost, however, was broken, +for the time, by a very natural circumstance. A troop of the village +damsels came in sight, on their way to church. She forgot the song of +birds, as her morbid spirit suggested to her the probable subject of +their meditations. + +"They have seen me," she muttered to herself as she hastily darted from +the window. "Ay, they exult. They point to me--me, the abandoned--the +desolate--soon to be the disgraced! But, no! no! that shall never +be. They shall never have that triumph, which is always so grateful a +subject of regale to the mean and envious!" + +The voice of her mother from below disturbed these unhappy meditations. +The old lady was prepared for church, and was surprised to find that +Margaret had not made her toilet. + +"What! don't you mean to go, Margaret?" + +"Not to-day, mother." + +"What, and the new preacher too, that takes the place of John Cross! +They say he makes a most heavenly prayer." + +But the inducement of the heavenly prayer of the new preacher was not +enough for Margaret. The very suggestion of a new preacher would have +been conclusive against her compliance. The good old lady was too eager +herself to get under way to waste much time in exhortation, and hurrying +off, she scarcely gave herself time to answer the inquiry of the widow +Thackeray, at her own door, after the daughter's health. + +"I will go in and see her," said the lighthearted but truehearted woman. + +"Do, do, ma'am---if you please! She'll be glad to see you. I'll hurry +on, as I see Mrs. Hinkley just ahead." + +The widow Thackeray looked after her with a smile, which was exchanged +for another of different character when she found herself in the chamber +of Margaret. She put her arms about the waist of the sufferer; kissed +her cheeks, and with the tenderest solicitude spoke of her health and +comfort. To her, alone, with the exception of her mother--according to +the belief of Margaret--her true situation had been made known. + +"Alas!" said she, "how should I feel--how should I be! You should know. +I am as one cursed--doomed, hopeless of anything but death." + +"Ah! do not speak of death, Margaret," said the other kindly. "We must +all die, I know, but that does not reconcile me any more to the thought. +It brings always a creeping horror through my veins. Think of life--talk +of life only." + +"They say that death is life." + +"So it is, I believe, Margaret; and now I think of it, dress yourself +and go to church where we may hear something on this subject to make us +wiser and better. Come, my dear--let us go to God." + +"I can not--not to-day, dear Mrs. Thackeray." + +"Ah, Margaret, why not? It is to the church, of all places, you should +now go." + +"What! to be stared at? To see the finger of scorn pointing at me +wherever I turn? To hear the whispered insinuation? To be conscious only +of sneer and sarcasm on every hand? No, no, dear Mrs. Thackeray, I can +not go for this. Feeling this, I should neither pray for myself, nor +find benefit from the prayers of others. Nay, THEY would not pray. They +would only mock." + +"Margaret, these thoughts are very sinful." + +"So they are, but I can not think of any better. They can not but be +sinful since they are mine." + +"But you are not wedded to sin, dearest. Such thoughts can give you no +pleasure. Come with me to church! Come and pray! Prayer will do you +good." + +"I would rather pray here. Let me remain. I will try to go out among the +hills when you are all engaged in church, and will pray there. Indeed I +must. I must pray then and pray there, if prayer is ever to do me good." + +"The church is the better place, Margaret. One prays better where one +sees that all are praying." + +"But when I KNOW that they are not praying! When I know that envy is in +their hearts, and malice, and jealousy and suspicion--that God is not in +their hearts, but their fellow; and not him with friendly and fond, but +with spiteful and deceitful thoughts!" + +"Ah! Margaret, how can you know this? Judge not lest ye be judged." + +"It matters not, dear Mrs. Thackeray. God is here, or there. He will be +among the hills if anywhere. I will seek him there. If I can command my +thoughts anywhere, it will be in the woods alone. In the church I can +not. Those who hate me are there--and their looks of hate would only +move my scorn and defiance." + +"Margaret, you do our people wrong. You do yourself wrong. None hate +you--none will point to you, or think of your misfortune; and if they +did, it is only what you might expect, and what you must learn patiently +to bear, as a part of the punishment which God inflicts on sin. You must +submit, Margaret, to the shame as you have submitted to the sin. It is +by submission only that you can be made strong. The burden which you are +prepared to bear meekly, becomes light to the willing spirit. Come, dear +Margaret, I will keep with you, sit by you--show you, and all, that I +forget your sin and remember only your suffering." + +The good widow spoke with the kindest tones. She threw her arms around +the neck of the desolate one, and kissed her with the affection of a +sister. But the demon of pride was uppermost. She withstood entreaty and +embrace. + +"I can not go with you. I thank you, truly thank you, dear Mrs. +Thackeray, but I can not go. I have neither the courage nor the +strength." + +"They will come--the courage and the strength--only try. God is watchful +to give us help the moment he sees that we really seek his assistance. +By prayer, Margaret--" + +"I will pray, but I must pray alone. Among the hills I will pray. My +prayer will not be less acceptable offered among his hills. My voice +will not remain unheard, though no chorus swells its appeal." + +"Margaret, this is pride." + +"Perhaps!" + +"Ah! go with me, and pray for humility." + +"My prayer would rather be for death." + +"Say not so, Margaret--this is impiety." + +"Ay, death!--the peace, the quiet of the grave--of a long sleep--an +endless sleep--where the vulture may no longer gnaw the heart, nor the +fire burn within the brain! For these I must pray." + +And, thus speaking, the unhappy woman smote her throbbing head with +violent hand. + +"Shocking thought! But you do not believe in such a sleep? Surely, +Margaret, you believe in life eternal?" + +"Would I did not!" + +"O Margaret!--but you are sick; you are very feverish. Your eyeballs +glare like coals of fire; your face seems charged with blood. I am +afraid you are going to have another attack, like the last." + +"Be not afraid. I have no such fear." + +"I will sit with you, at least," said the kind-hearted woman. + +"Nay, that I must positively forbid, Mrs. Thackeray; I will not suffer +it. I will not sit with YOU. Go you to church. You will be late. Do not +waste your time on me. I mean to ramble among the hills this morning. +THAT, I think, will do me more good than anything else. There, I am +sure--there only--I will find peace." + +The worthy widow shook her head doubtfully. + +"But I am sure of it," said Margaret. "You will see. Peace, peace--the +repose of the heart--the slumber of the brain!--I shall find all there!" + +Mrs. Thackeray, finding her inflexible, rose to depart, but with some +irresoluteness. + +"If you would let me walk with you, Margaret--" + +"No! no!--dear Mrs. Thackeray--I thank you very much; but, with a mood +such as mine, I shall be much better alone." + +"Well, if you are resolved--" + +"I am resolved! never more so." + +These words were spoken in tones which might have startled a suspicious +mind. But the widow was none. + +"God bless you!" she said, kissing her at parting. "I will see you when +I come from church." + +"Will you?" said Margaret, with a significant but sad smile. Then, +suddenly rising, she exclaimed:-- + +"Let me kiss you, dear Mrs. Thackeray, and thank you again, before you +go. You have been very kind to me, very kind, and you have my thanks and +gratitude." + +Mrs. Thackeray was touched by her manner. This was the first time +that the proud spirit of Margaret Cooper had ever offered such an +acknowledgment. It was one that the gentle and unremitting kindnesses +of the widow amply deserved. After renewing her promise to call on her +return from church, Mrs. Thackeray took her departure. + +Margaret Cooper was once more alone. When she heard the outer door shut, +she then threw herself upon the bed, and gave way to the utterance of +those emotions which, long restrained, had rendered her mind a terrible +anarchy. A few tears, but very few, were wrung from her eyes; but she +groaned audibly, and a rapid succession of shivering-fits passed through +her frame, racking the whole nervous system, until she scarcely found +herself able to rise from the couch where she had thrown herself. A +strong, determined will alone moved her, and she rose, after a lapse of +half an hour, to the further prosecution of her purpose. Her temporary +weakness and suffering of frame had no effect upon her resolves. She +rather seemed to be strengthened in them. This strength enabled her to +sit down and dictate a letter to her mother, declaring her intention, +and justifying it by such arguments as were presented by the ingenious +demon who assists always in the councils of the erring heart. + +She placed this letter in her bosom, that it might be found upon her +person. It was curious to observe, next, that she proceeded to tasks +which were scarcely in unison with the dreadful deed she meditated. She +put her chamber in nice order. Her books, of which she had a tolerably +handsome collection for a private library in our forest-country, she +arranged and properly classed upon their shelves. Then she made her +toilet with unusual care. It was for the last time. She gazed upon the +mirror, and beheld her own beauties with a shudder. + +"Ah!" she thought, though she gave no expression to the thought, "to be +so beautiful, yet fail!" + +It was a reflection to touch any heart with sorrow. Her dress was of +plain white; she wore no ornament--not even a riband. Her hair, which +was beautifully long and thick, was disposed in a clubbed mass upon her +head, very simply but with particular neatness; and, when all was done, +concealing the weapon of death beneath a shawl which she wrapped around +her, she left the house, and stole away unobserved along the hills, in +the seclusion and sacred silence of which she sought to avoid the evil +consequences of one crime by the commission of another far more heinous. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +SUSPENSE AND AGONY. + + + + + +At the risk of seeming monotonous, we must repeat the reflection made +in our last chapter, that the things we are about to lose for ever seem +always more valuable in the moment of their loss. They acquire a newer +interest in our eyes at such a time, possibly under the direction of +some governing instinct which is intended to render us tenacious of +life to the very last. Privation teaches us much more effectually than +possession the value of all human enjoyments; and the moralist has more +than once drawn his sweetest portraits of liberty from the gloom and the +denials of a dungeon. How eloquent of freedom is he who yearns for it in +vain! How glowing is that passion which laments the lost! + +To one dying, as we suppose few die, in the perfect possession of +their senses, how beautiful must seem the fading hues of the sunlight, +flickering along the walls of a chamber! how heavenly the brief glimpses +of the blue sky through the half-opened window! how charming the green +bit of foliage that swings against the pane! how cheering and unwontedly +sweet and balmy the soft, sudden gust of the sweet south, breathing up +from the flowers, and stirring the loose drapery around the couch! How +can we part with these without tears? how reflect, without horror, upon +the close coffin, the damp clod, the deep hollows of the earth in which +we are to be cabined? Oh, with what earnestness, at such a moment, must +the wholly conscious spirit pray for life! now greedily will he drink +the nauseous draught in the hope to secure its boon! how fondly will he +seize upon every chimera, whether of his own or of another's fancy, in +order to gain a little respite--in order still to keep within the grasp +of mind and sight, these lovely agents of earth and its Master, which, +in our day of strength and exultation, we do not value at one half +their worth! And how full of dread and horror must be that first awful +conviction which assures him that the struggle is in vain--that the last +remedy is tried--that nothing is left him now but despair--despair and +death! Then it is that Christianity comes to his relief. If he believes, +he gains by his loss. Its godlike promise assures him then that the +things which his desires make dear, his faith has rendered immortal. + +The truth of many of these reflections made their way into the mind of +Margaret Cooper, as she pursued the well-known path along the hills. She +observed the objects along the route more narrowly than ever. She was +taking that path for the last time. Her eyes would behold these objects +no more. How often had she pursued the same route with Alfred Stevens! +But then she had not seen these things; she had not observed these +thousand graces and beauties of form and shadow which now seemed to +crowd around, challenging her regard and demanding her sympathies. +Then she had seen nothing but him. The bitterness which this reflection +occasioned made her hurry her footsteps; but there was an involuntary +shudder that passed through her frame, when, in noting the strange +beauty of the path, she reflected that it would be trodden by her for +the last time. Her breathing became quickened by the reflection. She +pressed forward up the hills. The forests grew thick around her--deep, +dim, solemn, and inviting. The skies above looked down in little blessed +blue tufts, through the crowding tree-tops. The long vista of the woods +led her onward in wandering thoughts. + +To fix these thoughts--to keep them from wandering! This was a +difficulty. Margaret Cooper strove to do so, but she could not. +Never did her mind seem such a perfect chaos--so full of confused and +confusing objects and images. Her whole life seemed to pass in review +before her. All her dreams of ambition, all the struggles of her genius! +Were these to be thrown away? Were these all to be wasted? Was her song +to be unheard? Was her passionate and proud soul to have no voice? +If death is terrible to man, it is terrible, not as a pang, but as an +oblivion; and to the soul of genius, oblivion is a soul-death, and its +thought is a source of tenfold terror. + +"But of what avail were life to me now? Even should I live," said the +wretched woman, "would it matter more to the ambition which I have had, +and to the soul which flames and fevers within me? Who would hearken to +the song of the degraded? Who, that heard the story of my shame, would +listen to the strains of my genius? Say that its utterance is even as +proud as my own vanity of heart would esteem it--say that no plaint like +mine had ever touched the ear or lifted the heart of humanity! Alas! of +what avail! The finger of scorn would be uplifted long before the voice +of applause. The sneer and sarcasm of the worldling would anticipate the +favoring judgment of the indulgent and the wise. Who would do justice to +my cause? Who listen? Alas! the voice of genius would be of little avail +speaking from the lips of the dishonored. + +"To the talent which I have, and the ambition which still burns within +me, life then can bring nothing--no exercise--no fruition. Suppose, +then, that the talent is left to slumber--the ambition stifled till it +has no further longings! Will life yield anything to the mere creature +of society--to my youth--to my beauty--to my sense of delight--if still +there be any such sense left to me? Shall I be less the creature +of social scorn, because I have yielded my ambition--because I have +forborne the employment of those glorious gifts which Heaven in its +bounty has allotted me? + +"Alas! no! am I not a woman, one of that frail, feeble sex, whose name +is weakness?--of whom, having no strength, man yet expects the proofs of +the most unyielding--of a firmness which he himself can not exercise--of +a power of self-denial and endurance of which he exhibits no example. If +I weep, he smiles at my weakness. If I stifle my tears, he denounces +my unnatural hardihood. If I am cold and unyielding, I am masculine and +neglected--if I am gentle and pliant, my confidence is abused and my +person dishonored. What can society, which is thus exacting, accord +to me, then, as a mere woman? What shame will it not thrust upon me--a +woman--and as I am? + +"Life then promises me nothing. The talent which I have, lies within me +idle and without hope of use. The pure name of the woman is lost to me +for ever. Shame dogs my footsteps. Scorn points its finger. Life, and +all that it brings to others--love, friends, fame, fortune--which are +the soul of life--these are lost to me for ever. The moral death is here +already. The mere act of dying, is simply the end of a strife, and a +breathing and an agony. That is all!" + +The day became overcast. A cloud obscured the sunlight. The blue tufts +of sky no longer looked downward through the openings of the trees. +The scene, dim and silent before, became unusually dark. The aspect +of nature seemed congenial with the meditated deed. She had reasoned +herself into its commission, and she reproached herself mentally with +her delay. Any self-suggestion of an infirmity of purpose, with a nature +such as hers, would have produced precipitation. She turned down a +slight gorge among the hills where the forest was more close. She knelt +beneath a tree and laid down her pistol at its foot. + +She knelt--strange contradiction!--she knelt for the purposes of prayer. +But she could not pray. It would seem that she attributed this effort to +the sight of the pistols, and she put them behind her without changing +her position. The prayer, if she made any, was internal; and, at all +events it did not seem to be satisfactory. Yet, before it was ended, she +started with an expression of painful thought upon her face. The voice +of her reason had ceased its utterance. The voice of her conscience, +perhaps, had been unheard; but there was yet another voice to be heard +which was more potent than all. + +It was the mother's voice! + +She placed her hand upon her side with a spasmodic effort. The +quickening of a new life within her, made that new voice effectual. She +threw herself on the ground and wept freely. For the first time she wept +freely. The tears were those of the mother. The true fountain of tears +had been touched. That first throb of the innocent pledge of guilty +passion subdued the fiend. She could have taken her own life, but dared +not lift the deadly weapon against that. The arm of the suicide--was +arrested. She groaned, she wept, bitterly and freely. She was at once +feebler and more strong. Feebler, as regarded her late resolution; +stronger as regarded the force of her affections, the sweet humanities, +not altogether subdued within her heart. The slight pulsation of that +infant in her womb had been more effectual than the voice of reason, +or conscience, or feminine dread. The maternal feeling is, perhaps, the +most imperious of all those which gather in the heart of woman. + +Margaret Cooper, however, had not altogether resolved against the deed. +She only could not do it there and then. Her wretched determination +was not wholly surrendered, but it was touched, enfeebled; and with +the increasing powers of reflection, the impetuosity of the will became +naturally lessened. Those few glimpses along the roadside which had made +her sensible to the beauties she was about to lose, had prepared her +mind to act in counteraction of her impulse; and the event which had +brought into play the maternal instinct, naturally helped the cause of +reason in her soul. + +Still, with the erring pride of youth she reproached herself with her +infirmity of purpose. She resolved to change her ground, as if the +instinct which had been awakened in one spot would not everywhere pursue +her. Time was gained, and in such cases, to gain time is everything. +Perhaps no suicide would ever take place if the individual would wait +ten minutes. The soul takes its color from the cloud, and changes its +moods as often. It is one of the best lessons to the young, to wait! +wait! wait! One of the surest signs of strength is where the individual +waits patiently and makes no complaint. + +Margaret Cooper changed her ground. The spot was a wild one. A broken +ledge of rock was at her feet, and just below it ran a dark, narrow +winding footpath half-obscured by the undergrowth. Here she once more +proceeded to nerve her mind for the commission of the deed, but she had +not been there an instant when she was surprised to hear the sound of +voices. + +This was unusual. Who could they be? The villagers were not apt to stray +from church-service whenever a preacher was to be found, and there was a +new one, and consequently a new attraction, that day, for the spiritual +hungry of Charlemont. The path below was seldom trodden except by +herself and an occasional sportsman. The idea that entered her mind was, +that her purpose had been suspected, and that she was pursued. + +With this idea, she placed the pistol to her breast. She had already +cocked the weapon. Her finger was on the trigger. But the tones +of another voice reached her ears from below. They were those of a +woman--sweet, musical, and tender. + +A new light broke in upon her mind. This was the language of love. And +who were these new lovers in Charlemont? Could it be that the voice of +the male speaker was that of Stevens? Something in the tone sounded like +it, Involuntarily, with this impression, the weapon was turned from her +own bosom, and addressed in the direction in which the persons below +were approaching. A sudden, joyous feeling touched her soul. The thought +to destroy the criminal by whom she had been destroyed was a source +of exultation. She felt that she could do it. Both pistols were in +her hand. The pathway was not more than twenty paces distant; and her +nerves, for the first time, braced to an unusual tension, trembled with +the new excitement in her soul. + +The intruders continued to approach. Their voices became more distinct, +and Margaret Cooper was soon undeceived as to one of them being that +of Alfred Stevens. She was compelled to lie close, that she might not +betray her position and purpose. The male speaker was very urgent; the +voice seemed that of a stranger. That of the female was not so clearly +distinguishable, yet it seemed more familiar to the unintentional +listener. + +Something of feminine curiosity now entered the bosom of Margaret +Cooper. Crouching where she was, she deposited the pistols at her +feet. She remained breathlessly, for the slightest movement would have +revealed her to the persons who were now just below. They passed close +beneath the place of her concealment, and she soon discovered that they +were lovers; and what their language was, even if she had not heard it, +might have been conjectured. + +The girl was a very pretty brunette of Charlemont--a sweet, retiring +damsel of her own age, named Rivers--whom she knew only slightly. She +was a shy, gentle, unpresuming girl, whom, for this reason, perhaps, +Margaret had learned to look upon without dislike or scorn. Her +companion was a youth whom Margaret had known when a lad, but who had +been absent on the Mississippi for two years. His tall and masculine +but well-made and graceful person sufficiently accounted for, while it +justified, the taste of the maiden. He was a youth of fine, frank, manly +countenance. His garb was picturesque, that of a bold border-hunter, +with hunting-frock of yellow buckskin, and Indian leggings. + +The girl looked up to him with an expression at once of eagerness and +timidity. Confidence and maiden bashfulness spoke equally in the delight +which glowed upon her features. The bright eyes and sun-burned features +of the youth were flushed with the feeling of happy triumph and assuring +love. The relation of the two was sufficiently evident from their looks, +even had they no other language. + +What were the emotions of Margaret Cooper as she looked down upon this +pair? At first she thought, as will most persons: "Surely there is +nothing in nature so lovely as the union of two--fond, devoted hearts. +The picture is one equally of moral and physical beauty. The slight, +fragile, depending damsel, hanging in perfect confidence on the arm of +the manly, lofty, and exulting youth--looking up into his eyes in hope, +while he returns the gaze with pride and fondness! Unconscious of all +things but the love which to them is life and all things besides, they +move along the forest way and know not its solitude; they linger and +loiter along its protracted paths, and see not their length; they cling +together through the lengthened hours, and fancy they have lost no time; +they hear each other's voices, and believe that life is all music and +delight." + +While Margaret Cooper looked down and heard the pleadings and promises +of the youth, and beheld the sweet emotions of his companion, engaged +in a pleasant struggle between her hopes and misgivings, she scarcely +restrained herself from rising where she was and crying aloud--like +another Cassandra, not to be believed: "Beware! beware!" + +But the warning of Margaret Cooper would have been unnecessary. The girl +was not only free from danger, but she was superior to it. She had +the wholesome fear of doing wrong too strongly impressed upon her +by education--she had too little confidence in herself--was too well +assured of her own weakness--to suffer herself, even for a moment, +to depart, in either thought or deed, from those quiet but stern +proprieties of conduct which are among the best securities of the young. +While she looked in her lover's face with confidence, and held his arm +with the grasp of one who is sure of a right to do so, there was an air +of childish simplicity in her manner which was wholly at variance with +wild passions and improper fancies. While the hunter maintained her on +his arm, and looked down into her eyes with love, his glance was yet as +respectful, as unexpressive of presumption, as her own. Had the eyes of +all Charlemont been looking on, they would have beheld nothing in the +conduct of either which could have incurred the censure of the most +becoming delicacy. + +Keen was the emotion and bitter was the thought which worked in the mind +of Margaret Cooper. She looked on the deportment of that young maiden, +whose intellect at another day she would have despised, with envy and +regret. Truer thoughts and feelings came to her as she listened to the +innocent but fond dialogue between the unconscious pair. The hunter was +pursuing an erratic life of enterprise and industry, then very common +among the western youth. He had been down upon the Mississippi, seeking +his fortune in such adventures as make border-life in our country +something like the more civilized life of the middle ages. He had +returned after a long absence, to claim the bride whose affections he +had won long before he had departed. + +Never had knight-errant been more true to his mistress. Her image had +been his talisman as well against danger from without, as against the +demon within. It had never left his mind, and he now returned for his +reward. He had returned to Charlemont just before the church service had +begun, and, being unprepared to go thither, had found no difficulty +in persuading his sweetheart to give the hour of morning service to +himself. + +Mixed up with his professions of love was the story of his wanderings. +Never were adventures more interesting to any auditor. Never was auditor +more easily moved by the transitions of the tale from tears to smiles, +and from smiles again to tears. His risks and rewards; his defeats +and successes; his wild adventures by fell and flood--not perhaps so +perilous as those of Othello, but such as proved he had the soul to +encounter the worst in Othello's experience, and maintain himself as +well--drew largely on the maiden's wonder and delight, increased her +tenderness and tremors, and made her quite as devoted to her hero as +ever was Desdemona to her dusky chief. As they went from hearing below, +the manner in which the hunter concluded his narrative provided a +sufficient test for the faith of his companion. + +"And now, Selina, you see all the risks and the dangers. There's +work and perhaps trouble for you to go down with me along the Choctaw +borders. But if there's work, I am the man to do my own share, and help +you out in yours; and, if there's trouble, here's the breast to stand it +first, and here's the arm to drive it back, so that it'll never trouble +yours. No danger shall come to you, so long as I can stand up between it +and you. If so be that you love me as you say, there's one way to show +it: you'll soon make up your mind to go with me. If you don't, why--" + +"But you know I do love you, John--" murmured the girl. + +"Don't I believe it? Well, if what you say means what it should, you're +ready. Here's my hand, and all that it's good for. It can work for you +and fight for you, Selina, and it's yours etarnally, with all that I +have." + +The hand of the girl was silently put into that of the speaker. The +tears were in her eyes; but, if she made any other answer, it was +unheard by Margaret Cooper. The rustic pair moved from sight even as +they spoke, and the desolate woman once more remained alone! + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +SHAME AND DEATH--THE OATH. + + + + + +Margaret Cooper was at length permitted to emerge from the place of her +concealment. The voices of the lovers were lost, as well as their forms, +in the wooded distance. Dreaming, like children as they were, of life +and happiness, they had wandered off, too happy to fancy for a moment +that the world contained, in its wide, vast bosom, one creature half so +wretched as she who hung above them, brooding, like some wild bird of +the cliff, over the storm which had robbed her of her richest plumage. + +She sank back into the woods. She no longer had the heart to commit the +meditated crime. This purpose had left her mind. It had given place to +another, however, scarcely less criminal. We have seen her, under the +first impression that the stranger whose voice she heard was Alfred +Stevens, turning the muzzle of the pistol from her breast to the path on +which he was approaching. Though she discovered her error, and laid the +weapon down, the sudden suggestion of her mind, at that moment, gave a +new direction to her mood. + +Why should she not seek to avenge her wrong? Was he to escape without +penalty? was she to be a quiescent victim? True, she was a woman, +destined it would seem to suffer--perhaps with a more than ordinary +share of that suffering which falls to her sex. But she had also a +peculiar strength--the strength of a man in some respects; and in her +bosom she now felt the sudden glow of one of his fiercest passions. +Revenge might be in her power. She might redress her wrong by her own +hand. It was a weapon of death which she grasped. In her grasp it might +be made a weapon of power. The suggestion seemed to be that of justice +only. It was one that filled her whole soul with a triumphant and a wild +enthusiasm. + +"I shall not be stricken down without danger to mine enemy. For +THIS--this, at least--strength is allotted me. Let him tremble! In his +place of seeming security let him tremble! I shall pursue his steps. I +will find him out. There shall be a day of retribution! Alfred Stevens, +there is a power within me which tells me you are no longer safe! + +"And why may I not secure this justice--this vengeance? Why? Because I +am a woman. Ha! We shall see. If I am a woman, I can be an enemy--and +such an enemy! An enemy not to be appeased, not to be overcome. War +always with my foe--war to the knife--war to the last!" + +Such a nature as that of Margaret Cooper needed some such object to give +it the passionate employment without which it must recoil upon itself +and end either in suicide or madness. She brooded upon this new thought. +She found in it a grateful exercise. From the moment when she conceived +the idea of being the avenger of her own wrong, her spirit became more +elastic--she became less sensible to the possible opinions upon her +condition which might be entertained by others. She found consolation, +in retreating to this one thought, from all the rest. Of the +difficulties in the way of her design, it was not in her impetuous +character to think. She never once suspected that the name of Alfred +Stevens had been an assumed one. She never once asked how she was to +pursue and hunt him up. She thought of a male disguise for herself, it +is true; but of the means and modes of travel--in what direction to go, +and after what plan to conduct her pursuit, she had not the most distant +idea. + +She addressed herself to her new design, however, in one respect, with +amazing perseverance. It diverted her from other and more oppressive +thoughts. Her pistols she carried secretly to a very distant wood, where +she concealed them in the hollow of a tree. To this wood she repaired +secretly and daily. Here she selected a tree as a mark. A small section +of the bark, which she tore away, at a given height, she learned to +regard as the breast of her seducer. This was the object of her aim. +Without any woman fears, she began her practice and continued it, day by +day, until, as we are told by one of the chroniclers of her melancholy +story, "she could place a ball with an accuracy, which, were it +universally equalled by modern duellists, would render duelling much +more fatal than it commonly is." + +In secret she procured gunpowder and lead, by arts so ingenious as to +baffle detection. At midnight when her mother slept she moulded her +bullets. Well might the thoughts and feelings which possessed her mind, +while engaged in this gloomy labor, have endowed every bullet with a +wizard spell to make it do its bidding truly. Bitter, indeed, were +the hours so appropriated; but they had their consolations. Dark and +terrible were the excited moods in which she retired from her toils to +that slumber which she could not always secure. And when it did come, +what were its images! The tree, the mark, the weapon, the deep, dim +forest, all the scenes and trials of the day, were renewed in her sleep. +A gloomy wood filled her eyes--a victim dabbled in blood lay before her; +and, more than once, her own fearful cry of vengeance and exultation +awakened her from those dreams of sleep, which strengthened her in the +terrible pursuit of the object which occasioned them. + +Such thoughts and practices, continued with religious pertinacity, from +day to day, necessarily had their effect upon her appearance as well as +her character. Her beauty assumed a wilder aspect. Her eye shot forth a +supernatural fire. She never smiled. Her mouth was rigid and compressed +as if her heart was busy in an endless conflict. Her gloom, thus +nurtured by solitude and the continual presence of a brooding +imagination of revenge, darkened into something like ferocity. Her +utterance became brief and quick--her tones sharp, sudden, and piercing. +She had but one thought which never seemed to desert her, yet of this +thought no ear ever had cognizance. It was of the time when she should +exercise the skill which she had now acquired upon that destroyer of +herself, whom she now felt herself destined to destroy. + +Of course we are describing a madness--one of those peculiar forms of +the disease which seems to have its origin in natural and justifiable +suggestions of reason. Not the less a madness for all that. + +Succeeding in her practice at one distance, Margaret Cooper changed it. +From one point to another she constantly varied her practice, until her +aim grew certain at almost any distance within the ordinary influence of +the weapon. To strike her mark at thirty feet became, in a little while, +quite as easy as to do so at five; and, secure now of her weapon, her +next object--though there was no cessation of her practice--was how to +seek and where to find the victim. + +In this new object she meditated to disguise herself in the apparel of +a man. She actually commenced the making up of the several garments +of one. This was also the secret labor of the midnight hour, when her +feeble-minded mother slept. She began to feel some of the difficulties +lying in the way of this pursuit, and her mind grew troubled to consider +them, without however, relaxing in its determination. That seemed a +settled matter. + +While she brooded over this new feature of her purpose--as if +fortunately to arrest the mad design--her mother fell seriously sick, +and was for some time in danger. The duty of attending upon her, put a +temporary stop to her thoughts and exercises; though without having the +effect of expelling them from her mind. + +But another event, upon her mother's recovery, tended to produce a +considerable alteration in her thoughts. A new care filled her heart +and rendered her a different being, in several respects. She was soon +to become a mother. The sickness of soul which oppressed her under +this conviction, gave a new direction to her mood without lessening its +bitterness; and, in proportion as she found her vengeance delayed, so +was the gratification which it promised, a heightened desire in her +mind. + +For the humiliating and trying event which was at hand, Margaret +Cooper prepared with a degree of silent firmness which denoted quite as +strongly the resignation of despair as any other feeling. + +The child is born. + +Margaret Cooper has at length become a mother. She has suffered the +agony, without being able to feel the compensating pride and pleasure +of one. It was the witness of her shame--could she receive it with any +assurances of love? It is doubtful if she did. + +For some time after its birth, the hapless woman seemed to be +unconscious, or half-conscious only, of her charge. A stupor weighed +upon her senses. When she did awaken, and her eyes fell upon the +face and form of the infant with looks of recognition, one long, long +piercing shriek burst from her lips. She closed her eyes--she turned +away from the little unoffending, yet offensive object with a feeling of +horror. + +Its features were those of Alfred Stevens. The likeness was indelible; +and this identity drew upon the child a share of that loathing hatred +with which she now remembered the guilty father. + +It may very well be supposed that the innocent babe suffered under these +circumstances. The milk which it drew from the mother's breast, was the +milk of bitterness, and it did not thrive. It imbibed gall instead of +nutriment. Day after day it pined in hopeless misery; and though +the wretched mother strove to supply its wants and soothe its little +sorrows, with a gradually increasing interest which overcame her first +loathing, there was yet that want of sweetest sympathy which nothing +merely physical could well supply. + +Debility was succeeded by disease--fever preyed upon its little frame, +which was now reduced to a skeleton. One short month only had elapsed +from its birth, and it lay, in the silence of exhaustion upon the arm +of its mother. Its eyes, whence the flickering light was escaping fast, +looked up into hers, as she fancied, with an expression of reproach. She +felt, on the instant, the pang of the maternal conscience. She forgot +the unworthy father, as she thought of the neglectful mother. She bent +down, and, for the first time, imprinted on its little lips the maternal +kiss. + +A smile seemed to glimmer on its tiny features; and, from that moment, +Margaret Cooper resolved to forget her injuries, for the time, at least, +in the consideration of her proper duties. But her resolution came too +late. Even while her nipple was within its boneless gums, a change +came over the innocent. She did not heed it. Her eyes and thoughts were +elsewhere; and thus she mused, gazing vacantly upon the wall of her +chamber until her mother entered the room. Mrs. Cooper gave but a single +glance at the infant when she saw that its little cares were over. + +"Oh, Margaret!" she exclaimed, "the child is dead." + +The mother looked down with a start and shudder. A big tear fell from +her eyes upon the cold cheek of the innocent. She released it to her +mother, turned her face upon the couch, and uttered her thanks to Heaven +that had secured it--that had left her again free for that darker +purpose which had so long filled her mind. + +"Better so," she murmured to her mother. "It is at peace. It will +neither know its own nor its mother's griefs. It is free from that shame +for which I must live!" + +"Come now, Margaret, no more of that," said the mother sharply. "There's +no need of shame. There are other things to live for besides shame." + +"There are--there are!" exclaimed the daughter, with spasmodic energy. +"Were there not, I should, indeed, be desperate." + +"To be sure you would, my child. You have a great deal to live for yet; +and let a little time blow over, and when everything's forgotten, you +will get as good a husband as any girl in the country." + +"For Heaven's sake, mother, none of this?" + +"But why not! Though you are looking a little bad just now--quite pale +and broken--yet it's only because you have been so ill; and this nursing +of babies, and having 'em too, is a sort of business to make any young +woman look bad; but in spite of all, there's not a girl in the village, +no matter how fresh she may be looking, that can hold a candle to you." + +"For mercy, mother!--" + +"Let me speak, I tell you! Don't I know? You're young, and you'll get +over it. You will get all your beauty and good looks back, now that the +baby's out of the way, and there's no more nursing to be done. And what +with your beauty and your talents, Margaret--" + +"Peace! mother! Peace--peace! You will drive me to madness if you +continue to speak thus." + +"Well, I'm sure there's no knowing what to say to please you. I'm sure, +I only want to cheer you up, and to convince you that things are not so +bad as you think them now. The cloud will blow over soon, and everything +will be forgotten, and then, you see--" + +The girl waved her hand impatiently. + +"Death--death!" she exclaimed. "Oh! child of shame, and bitterness, and +wrath!" she murmured, kneeling down beside the infant, "thou art +the witness that I have no future but storm, and cloud, and wrath, +and--Vengeance!" + +The last word was inaudible to her mother's ears. + +"It is an oath!" she cried; "an oath!" And her hands were uplifted in +solemn adjuration. + +"Come--come, Margaret! none of this swearing. You frighten me with your +swearing. There's nothing that you need to swear about! What's done +can't be helped now, by taking it so seriously. You must only be +patient, and give yourself time. Time's the word for us now; after a +little while you'll see the sky become brighter. It's a bad business, +it's true; but it needn't break a body's heart. How many young girls +I've known in my time, that's been in the same fix. There was Janet +Bonner, and Emma Loring, and Mary Peters--I knew 'em all, very well. +Well, they all made a slip once in their lives, and they never broke +their hearts about it, and didn't look very pale and sad in the face +either; but they just kept quiet and behaved decent for awhile, and +every one of 'em got good husbands. Janet Bonner, she married Dick +Pyatt, who came from Massachusetts, and kept the school down by +Clayton's Meadow; Emma Loring married a baptist-preacher from Virginia, +named Stokes. I never saw him to know him; and as for Mary Peters, there +never was a girl that had a slip that was ever so fortunate, for she's +been married no less than three times since, and as she's a widow +again, there's no telling what may happen to her yet. So don't you be so +downcast. You're chance is pretty nigh as good as ever, if you will only +hold up your head, and put the best face on it." + +"Oh! torture--torture! Mother, will you not be silent? Let the dead +speak to me only. I would hear but the voice of this one witness--" + +And she communed only with the dead infant, sitting or kneeling beside +it. But the communion was not one of contrition or tears--not of +humility and repentance--not of self-reproach and a broken spirit. Pride +and other passions had summoned up deities and angels of terror and of +crime, before the eyes and thoughts of the wretched mourner, and the +demon who had watched with her and waited on her, and had haunted her +with taunt and bitter mockeries, night and day, was again busy with +terrible suggestions, which gradually grew to be divine laws to her +diseased imagination. + +"Yes!" she exclaimed unconsciously. + +"I hear! I obey! Yet speak again. Repeat the lesson. I must learn it +every syllable, so that I shall not mistake--so that I can not fail!" + +"Who are you talking to, Margaret?" asked the mother anxiously. + +"Do you not see them, where they go? There--through the doors; the open +windows--wrapped in shadows, with great wings at their shoulders, each +carrying a dart in his bony grasp." + +"Lord, have mercy! She's losing her senses again!" and the mother +was about to rush from the apartment to seek assistance; but with +the action, the daughter suddenly arose, wearing a look of singular +calmness, and motioning to the child, she said:-- + +"Will you not dress it for the grave?" + +"I'm going about it now. The poor lovely little creature. The innocent +little blossom. We must put it in white, Margaret--virgin white--and put +white flowers in its little hands and on its breast, and under its head. +Oh! it will look so sweet in its little coffin!" + +"God! I should go mad with all this!" exclaimed the daughter, "were it +not for that work which is before me! I must be calm for that-calm +and stern! I must not hear--I must not think--not feel--lest I forget +myself, and the deed which I have to do. That oath--that oath! It is +sworn! It is registered in heaven, by the fatal angel of remorse, and +wrath, and vengeance!" + +And again, a whisper at her ears repeated:-- + +"For this, Margaret, and for this only, must thou live". + +"I must! I will!" she muttered, as it were in reply, and her eye glared +upon the opened door, as she heard a voice and footsteps without; and +the thought smote her:-- + +"Should it be now! Come for the sacrifice! Ha!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +THE PALL UPON THE COFFIN. + + + + + +The noise which arrested the attention of Margaret Cooper, and kindled +her features into an expression of wild and fiery ferocity, was of +innocent origin. The widow Thackeray was the intruder. Her kindness, +sympathy, and unwearied attentions, so utterly in conflict with the +estimates hitherto made of her heart and character, by Mrs Cooper, had, +in some degree, disarmed the censures of that excellent mother, if they +had not wholly changed her sentiments. She professed to be very grateful +to Thackeray's attentions, and, without making any profession, Margaret +certainly showed her that she felt them. She now only pointed the widow +to the corpse of the child, in that one action telling to the other all +that was yet unknown. Then she seated herself composedly, folded her +hands, and, beside the corpse, forgot its presence, forgot the presence +of all--heard no voice, save that of the assiduous demon whom nothing +could expel from her companionship. + +"Poor little thing!" murmured the widow Thackeray, as she proceeded to +assist Mrs. Cooper in decking it for the grave. + +The duty was finally done. Its burial was appointed for the morrow. + +A village funeral is necessarily an event of some importance. The lack +of excitements in small communities, in vests even sorrow and grief and +death with a peculiar interest in the eyes of curiosity. On the present +occasion, all the villagers attended. The funeral itself might have +sufficed to collect them with few exceptions; but now there was a +more eager influence still, working upon the gossippy moods of the +population. To see Margaret Cooper in her affliction--to see that +haughty spirit humbled and made ashamed--was, we fear, a motive, in the +minds of many, much stronger than the ostensible occasion might have +awakened. Had Margaret been a fashionable woman, in a great city, she +might have disappointed the vulgar desire, by keeping to her chamber. +Nay, even according to the free-and-easy standards prevailing at +Charlemont, she might have done the same thing, and incurred no +additional scandal. + +It was, indeed, to the surprise of a great many, that she made her +appearance. It was still more a matter of surprise--nay, pious and +virgin horror--that she seemed to betray neither grief nor shame, +surrounded as she was by all whom she knew, and all, in particular, +whom, in the day of her pride, she had kept at a distance. + +"What a brazen creature!" whispered Miss Jemima Parkinson, an +interesting spinster of thirty-six, to Miss Ellen Broadhurst, who was +only thirty-four; and Miss Ellen whispered back, in reply:-- + +"She hasn't the slightest bit of shame!" + +Interesting virgins! they had come to gloat over the spectacle of shame. +To behold the agonizing sense of degradation declare itself under the +finger-pointing scorn of those who, perhaps, were only innocent from +necessity, and virtuous because of the lack of the necessary attractions +in the eyes of lust. + +But Margaret Cooper seemed quite as insensible to their presence as +to their scorn and her own shame. She, in truth, saw none of them. +She heard not their voices. She conjectured non (sic) nts. She had +anticipated all of them; and having, in consequence, reached a point +of intensity in her agony which could bear no addition, she had been +relieved only by a still more intense passion, by which the enfeebling +one, of mere society, stood rebuked and almost forgotten. + +They little dreamed the terrible thoughts which were working, beneath +that stolid face, in that always eager-working brain. They never fancied +what a terrible demon now occupied that fiery heart which they supposed +was wholly surrendered to the consciousness of shame. Could they +have heard that voice of the fiend whispering in her ears, while they +whispered to one another--heard his terrible exhortations--heard her no +less terrible replies--they would have shrunk away in horror, and felt +fear rather than exultation. + +Margaret Cooper was insensible to all that they could say or do. She +knew them well--knew what they would say, and feel, and do; but the very +extremity of her suffering had placed it out of their power any longer +to mortify or shame. + +Some few of the villagers remained away. Ned Hinkley and his widowed +sister were absent from the house, though they occupied obscure places +in the church when the funeral-procession took place. An honorable +pity kept them from meeting the eyes of the poor shame-stricken but not +shame-showing woman. + +And Margaret followed the little corpse to its quiet nook in the village +graveyard. In that simple region the procession was wholly on foot; and +she walked behind the coffin as firmly as if she knew not what it held. +There was a single shiver that passed over her frame, as the heavy clods +fell upon the coffin-lid--but that was all; and when her mother and the +widow Thackeray took each of them one of her arms, and led her away from +the grave, and home, she went quietly, calmly, it would seem, and with +as firm a step as ever! + +"She has not a bit of feeling!" said Miss Jemima to Miss Ellen. + +"That's always the case with your very smart women," was the reply. +"It's all head with 'em; there's no heart. They can talk fine things +about death, and sorrow, and affliction, but it's talk only. They don't +feel what they say." + +Ned Hinkley had a juster notion of the state of the poor victim--of her +failings and her sensibilities, her equal strength and weakness. + +"Now," said he to his sister, "there's a burning volcano in that woman's +heart, that will tear her some day to pieces. For all that coldness, and +calmness, and stateliness, her brain is on fire, and her heart ready for +a convulsion. Her thoughts now, if she thinks at all, are all desperate. +She's going through a very hell upon earth! When you think of her +pride--and she's just as proud now as the devil himself--her misfortune +hasn't let her down--only made her more fierce--you wonder that she lets +herself be seen; you wonder that she lives at all. I only wonder that +she hasn't thrown herself from the rocks and into the lake. She'll do it +yet, I'm a-thinking. + +"And just so she always was. I knew her long ago. She once told me she +was afraid of nothing--would do as she pleased--she could dare anything! +From that moment I saw she wasn't the girl for Bill Hinkley. I told +him so, but he was so crazy after her, he'd hear to nothing. A woman--a +young woman--a mere girl of fifteen--boasting that she can dare and do +things that would set any woman in a shiver! I tell you what, sis, the +woman that's bolder than her sex is always in danger of falling from +the rocks. She gets such a conceit of her mind, that the devil is always +welcome. Her heart, after that, stands no sort of chance! + +"Protect me, say I, from all that class of women that pride themselves +on their strongmindedness! They get insolent upon it. They think that +mind can do everything. They're so vain, that they never can see the +danger, even when it's yawning at their feet. A woman's never safe +unless she's scary of herself, and mistrusts herself, and never lets her +thoughts and fancies get from under a tight rein of prudence. For, after +all, the passions will have their way some day, and then what's the +use of the mind? I tell you, sis, that the passions are born deaf--they +never listen to any argument. + +"But I'm sorry for her--God knows I'm sorry for her! I'd give all +I'm worth to have a fair shot or clip at that rascal Stevens. Brother +Stevens! Ain't it monstrous, now, that a sheep's cover should be all +that's sufficient to give the wolf freedom in the flock?--that you've +only to say, 'This is a brother--a man of God'--and no proof is asked! +nobody questions! The blind, beastly, bigoted, blathering blockheads! +I feel very much like setting off straight, and licking John Hinkley, +though he's my own uncle, within an inch of his life! He and John +Cross--the old fools who are so eager to impose their notions of +religion upon everybody, that anybody may impose upon them--they two +have destroyed this poor young creature. It's at their door, in part, +this crime, and this ruin! I feel it in my heart to lick 'em both out of +their breeches! + +"Yet, as I'm a living sinner, they'll stand up in the congregation, and +exhort about this poor girl's misfortune, just as if they were not to +blame at all who brought the wolf into the farmyard! They'll talk about +her sins, and not a word, to themselves or anybody else, about their own +stupidities! I feel it in my heart to lather both of them right away!" + +The sister said little, and sorrowfully walked on in silence homeward, +listening to the fierce denunciations of Ned Hinkley. Ned was affected, +or, rather, he showed his sympathies, in a manner entirely his own. He +was so much for fight, that he totally forgot his fiddle that night, and +amused himself by putting his two "barking-pups" in order--getting +them ready, as he said, "in case he ever should get a crack at Brother +Stevens!" + +The cares of the child's burial over, and the crowd dispersed, the +cottage of the widow Cooper was once more abandoned to the cheerlessness +and wo (sic) within. Very dismal was the night of that day to the two, +the foolish mother and wretched daughter, as they sat brooding together, +in deep silence, by the light of a feeble candle. The mother rocked a +while in her easy-chair. The daughter, hands clasped in her lap, sat +watching the candlelight in almost idiotic vacancy of gaze. At length +she stood up and spoke--slowly, deliberately, and apparently in as calm +a mood as she had ever felt in all her life:-- + +"We must leave this place, mother. We must go hence--to-morrow if we +can." + +"Go?--leave this place? I want to know why! I'm sure we're very +comfortable here. I can't be going just when you please, and leaving all +my company and friends." + +"Friends!" + +"Yes, friends! There's the widow Thackeray--and there's--" + +"And how long is it since Mrs. Thackeray was such a dear friend, +mother?" asked the daughter, with ill-suppressed scorn. + +"No matter how long: she's a good friend now. She's not so foolish +as she used to be. She's grown good; she's got religion; and I don't +consider what she was. No!--I'm willing--" + +"Pshaw, mother! tell me nothing of your friendships. You'll find, +wherever you go, as many friends as you please, valued quite as much as +Mrs. Thackeray." + +"Well, I do say, Margaret, it's very ungrateful of you to speak +so disrespectfully of Mrs. Thackeray, after all her kindness and +attention." + +"I do not speak disrespectfully of Mrs. Thackeray. I NEVER did speak ill +of her, even when it was your favorite practice to do so. I only speak +of your newly-acquired appreciation of her. But this is nothing to +the purpose. I repeat, mother, we can not remain here. I will depart, +whether you resolve to go or not. I can not, I will not, exist another +week in Charlemont." + +"And where would you go?" + +"Back--back to that old farm, from which you brought me in evil hour! +It is poor, obscure, profitless, unsought, unseen: it will give me a +shelter--it may bring me peace. I must have solitude for a season; I +must sleep for months." + +"Sleep for months! La me, child, what a notion's that!" + +"No matter--thither let us go. I seem to see it, stretching out its +hands, and imploring us to come." + +"Bless me, Margaret! a farm stretching out its hands! Why, you're in a +dream!" + +"Don't wake me, then! Better I should so dream! Thither I go. It is +fortunate that you have not been able to sell it. It is a mercy that it +still remains to us. It was my childhood's home. Would it could again +receive me as a child! It will cover my head for a while, at least, and +that is something. We must leave this place. Here every thing offends +me--every spot, every face, every look, every gesture." + +"It's impossible, Margaret!--" + +"What! you suppose it an honorable distinction, do you, when the folks +here point to your daughter, and say--ha! ha!--listen what they say! It +is the language of compliment! They are doing me honor, with tongue and +finger! Repeat, mother; tell me what they say--for it evidently gives +you great pleasure." + +"O Margaret! Margaret!--" + +"You understand, do you? Well, then, we go. We can not depart too soon. +If I stay here, I madden! And I must not madden. I have something which +needs be done--which must be done. It is an oath! an oath in heaven! The +child was a witness. She heard all--every syllable!" + +"What all? what did you hear?" + +"No matter! I'm sworn to be secret. But you shall hear in time. We have +no time for it now. It is a very long story. And we must now be packing. +Yes, we must go. _I_ must go, at least. Shall I go alone?" + +"But you will not leave your mother, Margaret!" + +"Father and mother--all will I leave, in obedience to that oath. Believe +me or not, mother--go with me or not--still I go. Perhaps it is better +that I should go alone." + +The strong will naturally swayed the feebler, as it had ever done +before. The mother submitted to an arrangement which she had not the +resolution to oppose. A few days were devoted to necessary arrangements, +and then they left Charlemont for ever. Margaret Cooper looked not once +behind them as they traversed the lonely hills looking down upon the +village--those very hills from which, at the opening of this story, the +treacherous Alfred Stevens and his simple uncle beheld the lovely little +settlement. She recognised the very spot, as they drove over it, +where Stevens first encountered her, and the busy demon, at her ears +whispered:-- + +"It was here! You remember!" + +And she clinched her teeth firmly together, even though she shuddered +at her memories; and she renewed her oath to the demon, who, thereupon, +kept her company the rest of the journey, till she reached the ancient +and obscure farmstead in which she was born. + +"She retired," says the rude chronicle from which we have borrowed many +of the materials for this sombre history, "to a romantic little farm +in---, there to spend in seclusion, with her aged mother and a few +servants, the remainder of her days." + +Our simple chronicler takes too much for granted. Margaret Cooper +retired with no such purpose. She had purposes entirely at conflict with +any idea of repose or quiet. She thought nothing of the remainder of +her days. Her mother was not so aged but that she could still think, six +months afterward, of the reported marriage of the widow Thackeray with +repining, and with the feeling of one who thinks that she has suffered +neglect and injustice at the hands of the world. Touching the romance +of the ancient farmstead, we are more modestly content to describe it +as sterile, lonely, and unattractive; its obscurity offering, for the +present, its chief attractions to our desolate heroine, and the true +occasion for that deep disgust with which her amiable mother beheld it. + +Our chronicle of Charlemont is ended. We have no further object or +interest within its precincts. William Hinkley is gone, no one knows +whither, followed by his adopted father, the retired lawyer, whose +sensibilities were fatal to his success. It was not long before Ned +Hinkley and his widowed sister found it their policy to depart +also, seeking superior objects in another county; and at this moment +Charlemont is an abandoned and deserted region. It seemed to decline +from the moment when the cruel catastrophe occurred which precipitated +Margaret Cooper from her pride of place. Beautiful as the village +appeared at the opening of our legend, it was doomed to as rapid a decay +as growth. "Something ails it now--the spot is cursed!" + +But OUR history does not finally conclude with the fate of Charlemont. +That chronicle is required now to give place to another, in which we +propose to take up the sundered clues, and reunite them in a fresh +progress. We shall meet some of the old parties once more, in new +situations. We shall again meet with Margaret Cooper, in a new guise, +under other aspects, but still accompanied by her demon--still inspired +by her secret oath--still glowing with all the terrible memories of the +past--still laboring with unhallowed pride; and still destined for a +lark catastrophe. Our scene, however, lies in another region, to which +the reader, who has thus far kept pace with our progress, is entreated +still to accompany us. The chronicle of "CHARLEMONT" will find its +fitting sequel in that of "BEAUCHAMPE"--known proverbially as "THE +KENTUCKY TRAGEDY." + +END OF CHARLEMONT. + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Charlemont, by W. 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