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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Confession, 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: Confession
+
+Author: W. Gilmore Simms
+
+
+Release Date: July, 2004  [EBook #6059]
+This file was first posted on October 30, 2002
+Last Updated: March 16, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONFESSION ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Confession]
+
+CONFESSION
+
+or,
+
+THE BLIND HEART
+
+A Domestic Story
+
+By W. Gilmore Simms
+
+
+
+  Wagner. But of the world-the heart, the mind of man,
+          How happy could we know!
+
+  Faust.              What can we know?
+          Who dares bestow the infant his true name?
+          The few who felt and knew, but blindly gave
+          Their knowledge to the multitude--they fell!
+          Incapable to keep their full hearts in,
+          They, from the first of immemorial time,
+          Were crucified or burnt.
+                           Goethe's Faust, MS. Version.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+CONFESSION, OR THE BLIND HEART.
+
+
+  “Who dares bestow the infant his true name?
+  The few who felt and knew, but blindly gave
+  Their knowledge to the multitude--they fell
+  Incapable to keep their full hearts in,
+  They, from the first of immemorial time,
+  Were crucified or burnt.”--Goethe's “Faust.”
+
+
+The pains and penalties of folly are not necessarily death. They were
+in old times, perhaps, according to the text, and he who kept not to
+himself the secrets of his silly heart was surely crucified or burnt.
+Though lacking in penalties extreme like these, the present is not
+without its own. All times, indeed, have their penalties for folly, much
+more certainly than for crime; and this fact furnishes one of the most
+human arguments in favor of the doctrine of rewards and punishments in
+the future state. But these penalties are not always mortifications and
+trials of the flesh. There are punishments of the soul; the spirit; the
+sensibilities; the intellect--which are most usually the consequences of
+one's own folly. There is a perversity of mood which is the worst of
+all such penalties. There are tortures which the foolish heart equally
+inflicts and endures. The passions riot on their own nature; and,
+feeding as they do upon that bosom from which they spring, and in which
+they flourish, may, not inaptly, be likened to that unnatural brood
+which gnaws into the heart of the mother-bird, and sustains its
+existence at the expense of hers. Meetly governed from the beginning,
+they are dutiful agents that bless themselves in their own obedience;
+but, pampered to excess, they are tyrants that never do justice, until
+at last, when they fitly conclude the work of destruction by their own.
+
+The narrative which follows is intended to illustrate these opinions. It
+is the story of a blind heart--nay, of blind hearts--blind through their
+own perversity--blind to their own interests--their own joys, hopes,
+and proper sources of delight. In narrating my own fortunes, I depict
+theirs; and the old leaven of wilfulness, which belongs to our nature,
+has, in greater or less degree, a place in every human bosom.
+
+I was the only one surviving of several sons. My parents died while I
+was yet an infant. I never knew them. I was left to the doubtful charge
+of relatives, who might as well have been strangers; and, from their
+treatment, I learned to doubt and to distrust among the first fatal
+lessons of my youth. I felt myself unloved--nay, as I fancied, disliked
+and despised. I was not merely an orphan. I was poor, and was felt as
+burdensome by those connections whom a dread of public opinion, rather
+than a sense of duty and affection, persuaded to take me to their homes.
+Here, then, when little more than three years old, I found myself--a
+lonely brat, whom servants might flout at pleasure, and whom superiors
+only regarded with a frown. I was just old enough to remember that I had
+once experienced very different treatment. I had felt the caresses of a
+fond mother--I had heard the cheering accents of a generous and a gentle
+father. The one had soothed my griefs and encouraged my hopes--the other
+had stimulated my energies and prompted my desires. Let no one
+fancy that, because I was a child, these lessons were premature. All
+education, to be valuable, must begin with the child's first efforts at
+discrimination. Suddenly, both of these fond parents disappeared, and I
+was just young enough to wonder why.
+
+The change in my fortunes first touched my sensibilities, which it
+finally excited until they became diseased. Neglected if not scorned,
+I habitually looked to encounter nothing but neglect or scorn. The sure
+result of this condition of mind was a look and feeling, on my part, of
+habitual defiance. I grew up with the mood of one who goes forth with a
+moral certainty that he must meet and provide against an enemy. But I am
+now premature.
+
+The uncle and aunt with whom I found shelter were what is called in
+ordinary parlance, very good people. They attended the most
+popular church with most popular punctuality. They prayed with
+unction--subscribed to all the charities which had publicity and a
+fashionable list to recommend them--helped to send missionaries to
+Calcutta, Bombay, Owyhee, and other outlandish regions--paid their
+debts when they became due with commendable readiness--and were, in all
+out-of-door respects, the very sort of people who might congratulate
+themselves, and thank God that they were very far superior to their
+neighbors. My uncle had morning prayers at home, and my aunt thumbed
+Hannah More in the evening; though it must be admitted that the former
+could not always forbear, coming from church on the sabbath, to inquire
+into the last news of the Liverpool cotton market, and my aunt never
+failed, when they reached home, on the same blessed day, to make the
+house ring with another sort of eloquence than that to which she had
+listened with such sanctimonious devotion from the lips of the preacher.
+There were some other little offsets against the perfectly evangelical
+character of their religion. One of these--the first that attracted my
+infant consideration--was naturally one which more directly concerned
+myself. I soon discovered that, while I was sent to an ordinary charity
+school of the country, in threadbare breeches, made of the meanest
+material--their own son--a gentle and good, but puny boy, whom their
+indulgence injured, and, perhaps, finally destroyed--was despatched to
+a fashionable institution which taught all sorts of ologies--dressed in
+such choice broadcloth and costly habiliments, as to make him an object
+of envy and even odium among all his less fortunate school-fellows.
+
+Poor little Edgar! His own good heart and correct natural understanding
+showed him the equal folly of that treatment to which he was subjected,
+and the injustice and unkindness which distinguished mine. He strove to
+make amends, so far as I was concerned, for the error of his parents. He
+was my playmate whenever he was permitted, but even this permission was
+qualified by some remark, some direction or counsel, from one or other
+of his parents, which was intended to let him know, and make me feel,
+that there was a monstrous difference between us.
+
+The servants discovered this difference as quickly as did the objects
+of it; and though we were precisely of one age, and I was rather the
+largest of the two, yet, in addressing us, they paid him the deference
+which should only be shown to superior age, and treated me with the
+contumely only due to inferior merit. It was “Master Edgar,” when he was
+spoken to--and “you,” when I was the object of attention.
+
+I do not speak of these things as of substantial evils affecting my
+condition. Perhaps, in one or more respects, they were benefits.
+They taught me humility in the first place, and made that humility
+independence, by showing me that the lesson was bestowed in wantonness,
+and not with the purpose of improvement. And, in proportion as my
+physical nature suffered their neglect, it acquired strength by the very
+roughening to which that neglect exposed it. In this I possessed a vast
+advantage over my little companion. His frame, naturally feeble, sunk
+under the oppressive tenderness to which the constant care of a vain
+father, a doting mother, and sycophantic friends and servants, subjected
+it. The attrition of boy with boy, in the half-manly sports of schoolboy
+life--its very strifes and scuffles--would have brought his blood into
+adequate circulation, and hardened his bones, and given elasticity to
+his sinews. But from all these influences, he was carefully preserved
+and protected. He was not allowed to run, for fear of being too much
+heated. He could not jump, lest he might break a blood-vessel. In the
+ball play he might get an eye knocked out; and even tops and marbles
+were forbidden, lest he should soil his hands and wear out the knees
+of his green breeches. If he indulged in these sports it was only by
+stealth, and at the fearful cost of a falsehood on every such occasion.
+When will parents learn that entirely to crush and keep down the proper
+nature of the young, is to produce inevitable perversity, and stimulate
+the boyish ingenuity to crime?
+
+With me the case was very different. If cuffing and kicking could have
+killed, I should have died many sudden and severe deaths in the rough
+school to which I was sent. If eyes were likely to be lost in the
+campus, corded balls of India-rubber, or still harder ones of wood,
+impelled by shinny (goff) sticks, would have obliterated all of mine
+though they had been numerous as those of Argus. My limbs and eyes
+escaped all injury; my frame grew tall and vigorous in consequence of
+neglect, even as the forest-tree, left to the conflict of all the winds
+of heaven; while my poor little friend, Edgar, grew daily more and more
+diminutive, just as some plant, which nursing and tendance within doors
+deprive of the wholesome sunshine and generous breezes of the sky.
+The paleness of his cheek increased, the languor of his frame, the
+meagerness of his form, the inability of his nature! He was pining
+rapidly away, in spite of that excessive care, which, perhaps, had been
+in the first instance, the unhappy source of all his feebleness.
+
+He died--and I became an object of greater dislike than ever to
+his parents. They could not but contrast my strength, with his
+feebleness--my improvement with his decline--and when they remembered
+how little had been their regard for me and how much for him--without
+ascribing the difference of result to the true cause--they repined at
+the ways of Providence, and threw upon me the reproach of it. They gave
+me less heed and fewer smiles than ever. If I improved at school, it was
+well, perhaps; but they never inquired, and I could not help fancying
+that it was with a positive expression of vexation, that my aunt heard,
+on one occasion, from my teacher, in the presence of some guests, that I
+was likely to be an honor to the family.
+
+“An honor to the family, indeed!” This was the clear expression in
+that Christian lady's eyes, as I saw them sink immediately after in a
+scornful examination of my rugged frame and coarse garments.
+
+The family had its own sources of honor, was the calm opinion of both
+my patrons, as they turned their eyes upon their only remaining child--a
+little girl about five years old, who was playing around them on the
+carpet. This opinion was also mine, even then: and my eyes followed
+theirs in the same direction. Julia Clifford was one of the sweetest
+little fairies in the world. Tender-hearted, and just, and generous,
+like the dear little brother, whom she had only known to lose, she
+was yet as playful as a kitten. I was twice her age--just ten--at this
+period; and a sort of instinct led me to adopt the little creature, in
+place of poor Edgar, in the friendship of my boyish heart. I drew her
+in her little wagon--carried her over the brooklet--constructed her tiny
+playthings--and in consideration of my usefulness, in most generally
+keeping her in the best of humors, her mother was not unwilling that I
+should be her frequent playmate. Nay, at such times she could spare a
+gentle word even to me, as one throws a bone to the dog, who has jumped
+a pole, or plunged into the water, or worried some other dog, for his
+amusement. At no other period did my worthy aunt vouchsafe me such
+unlooked-for consideration.
+
+But Julia Clifford was not my only friend. I had made another
+shortly before the death of Edgar; though, passingly it may be said,
+friendship-making was no easy business with a nature such as mine had
+now become. The inevitable result of such treatment as that to which my
+early years had been subjected, was fully realized. I was suspicious
+to the last degree of all new faces--jealous of the regards of the
+old; devoting myself where my affections were set and requiring
+devotion--rigid, exclusive devotion--from their object in return. There
+was a terrible earnestness in all my moods which made my very love a
+thing to be feared. I was no trifler--I could not suffer to be trifled
+with--and the ordinary friendships of man or boy can not long endure the
+exactions of such a disposition. The penalties are usually thought to
+be--and are--infinitely beyond the rewards and benefits.
+
+My intimacies with William Edgerton were first formed under
+circumstances which, of all others, are most likely to establish them on
+a firm basis in our days of boyhood. He came to my rescue one evening,
+when, returning from school, I was beset by three other boys, who
+had resolved on drubbing me. My haughty deportment had vexed their
+self-esteem, and, as the same cause had left me with few sympathies, it
+was taken for granted that the unfairness of their assault would provoke
+no censure. They were mistaken. In the moment of my greatest difficulty,
+William Edgerton dashed in among them. My exigency rendered his
+assistance a very singular benefit. My nose was already broken--one of
+my eyes sealed up for a week's holyday; and I was suffering from small
+annoyances, of hip, heart, leg, and thigh, occasioned by the repeated
+cuffs, and the reckless kicks, which I was momently receiving from three
+points of the compass. It is true that my enemies had their hurts to
+complain of also; but the odds were too greatly against me for any
+conduct or strength of mine to neutralize or overcome; and it was only
+by Edgerton's interposition that I was saved from utter defeat and much
+worse usage. The beating I had already suffered. I was sore from head to
+foot for a week after; and my only consolation was that my enemies left
+the ground in a condition, if anything, something worse than my own.
+
+But I had gained a friend, and that was a sweet recompense, sweeter to
+me, by far, than it is found or felt by schoolboys usually. None could
+know or comprehend the force of my attachment--my dependence upon
+the attachment of which I felt assured!--none but those who, with an
+earnest, impetuous nature like my own--doomed to denial from the first,
+and treated with injustice and unkindness--has felt the pang of a worse
+privation from the beginning;--the privation of that sustenance, which
+is the “very be all and end all” of its desire and its life--and
+the denial of which chills and repels its fervor--throws it back in
+despondency upon itself--fills it with suspicion, and racks it with a
+never-ceasing conflict between its apprehension and its hopes.
+
+Edgerton supplied a vacuum which my bosom had long felt. He was,
+however, very unlike, in most respects, to myself. He was rather
+phlegmatic than ardent--slow in his fancies, and shy in his associations
+from very fastidiousness. He was too much governed by nice tastes, to be
+an active or performing youth; and too much restrained by them also, to
+be a popular one. This, perhaps, was the secret influence which
+brought us together. A mutual sense of isolation--no matter from what
+cause--awakened the sympathies between us. Our ties were formed, on my
+part, simply because I was assured that I should have no rival; and on
+his, possibly, because he perceived in my haughty reserve of character,
+a sufficient security that his fastidious sensibilities would not be
+likely to suffer outrage at my hands. In every other respect our moods
+and tempers were utterly unlike. I thought him dull, very frequently,
+when he was only balancing between jealous and sensitive tastes;--and
+ignorant of the actual, when, in fact, his ignorance simply arose from
+the decided preference which he gave to the foreign and abstract. He was
+contemplative--an idealist; I was impetuous and devoted to the real
+and living world around me, in which I was disposed to mingle with an
+eagerness which might have been fatal; but for that restraint to which
+my own distrust of all things and persons habitually subjected me.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+BOY PASSIONS--A PROFESSION CHOSEN.
+
+
+Between William Edgerton and Julia Clifford my young life and best
+affections were divided, entirely, if not equally. I lived for no
+other--I cared to seek, to know, no other--and yet I often shrunk from
+both. Even at that boyish period, while the heavier cares and the more
+painful vexations of life were wanting to our annoyance, I had those
+of that gnawing nature which seemed to be born of the tree whose evil
+growth “brought death into the world and all our wo.” The pang of a
+nameless jealousy--a sleepless distrust--rose unbidden to my heart at
+seasons, when, in truth, there was no obvious cause. When Julia was
+most gentle--when William was most generous--even then, I had learned to
+repulse them with an indifference which I did not feel--a rudeness which
+brought to my heart a pain even greater than that which my wantonness
+inflicted upon theirs. I knew, even then, that I was perverse, unjust;
+and that there was a littleness in the vexatious mood in which I
+indulged, that was unjust to my own feelings, and unbecoming in a manly
+nature. But even though I felt all this, as thoroughly as I could ever
+feel it under any situation, I still could not succeed in overcoming
+tha' insane will which drove me to its indulgence.
+
+Vainly have I striven to account for the blindness of heart--for such
+it is, in all such cases--which possessed me. Was there anything in
+my secret nature, born at my birth and growing with my growth--which
+impelled me to this willfulness. I can scarcely believe so; but, after
+serious reflection, am compelled to think that it was the strict result
+of moods growing out of the particular treatment to which I had been
+subjected. It does not seem unnatural that an ardent temper of mind,
+willing to confide, looking to love and affection for the only aliment
+which it most and chiefly desires, and repelled in this search, frowned
+on by its superiors as if it were something base, will, in time, grow to
+be habitually wilful, even as the treatment which has schooled it. Had I
+been governed and guided by justice, I am sure that I should never have
+been unjust.
+
+My waywardness in childhood did not often amount to rudeness, and never,
+I may safely say, where Julia was concerned. In her case, it was simply
+the exercise of a sullenness that repelled her approaches, even as
+its own approaches had been repelled by others. At such periods I went
+apart, communing, sternly with myself, refusing the sympathy that I most
+yearned after, and resolving not to be comforted. Let me do the dear
+child the justice to say that the only effect which this conduct had
+upon her, was to increase her anxieties to soothe the repulsive spirit
+which should have offended her. Perhaps, to provoke this anxiety in one
+it loves, is the chief desire of such a spirit. It loves to behold the
+persevering devotion, which it yet perversely toils to discourage. It
+smiles within, with a bitter triumph, as it contemplates its own power,
+to impart the same sorrow which a similar perversity has already made it
+feel.
+
+But, without seeking further to analyze and account for such a spirit,
+it is quite sufficient if I have described it. Perhaps, there are other
+hearts equally froward and wayward with my own. I know not if my story
+will amend--perhaps it may not even instruct or inform them--I feel
+that no story, however truthful, could have disarmed the humor of that
+particular mood of mind which shows itself in the blindness of the heart
+under which it was my lot to labor. I did not want knowledge of my own
+perversity. I knew--I felt it--as clearly as if I had seen it written
+in characters of light, on the walls of my chamber. But, until it had
+exhausted itself and passed away by its own processes, no effort of
+mine could have overcome or banished it. I stalked apart, under
+its influence, a gloomy savage--scornful and sad--stern, yet
+suffering--denying myself equally, in the perverse and wanton denial to
+which I condemned all others.
+
+Perhaps something of this temper is derived from the yearnings of the
+mental nature. It may belong somewhat to the natural direction of a
+mind having a decided tendency to imaginative pursuits. There is a dim,
+vague, indefinite struggle, for ever going on in the nature of such a
+person, after an existence and relations very foreign to the world in
+which it lives; and equally far from, and hostile to that condition
+in which it thrives. The vague discontent of such a mind is one of the
+causes of its activity; and how far it may be stimulated into diseased
+intensity by injudicious treatment, is a question of large importance
+for the consideration of philosophers. The imaginative nature is one
+singularly sensitive in its conditions; quick, jealous, watchful,
+earnest, stirring, and perpetually breaking down the ordinary barriers
+of the actual, in its struggles to ascertain the extent of the possible.
+The tyranny which drives it from the ordinary resources and enjoyments
+of the young, by throwing it more completely on its own, impels into
+desperate activity that daring of the imaginative mood, which, at no
+time, is wanting in courage and audacity. My mind was one singularly
+imaginative in its structure; and my ardent temperament contributed
+largely to its activity. Solitude, into which I was forced by the
+repulsive and unkind treatment of my relatives, was also favorable to
+the exercise of this influence; and my heart may be said to have taken,
+in turn, every color and aspect which informed my eyes. It was a blind
+heart for this very reason, in respect to all those things for which it
+should have had a color of its own. Books and the woods--the voice of
+waters and of song--the dim mysteries of poetry, and the whispers of
+lonely forest-walks, which beguiled me into myself, and more remotely
+from my fellows, were all, so far as my social relations were concerned,
+evil influences! Influences which were only in part overcome by the
+communion of such gentle beings as William Edgerton and Julia Clifford.
+
+With these friends, and these only, I grew up. As my years advanced, my
+intimacy with the former increased, and with the latter diminished. But
+this diminution of intimacy did not lessen the kindness of her feelings,
+or the ordinary devotedness of mine. She was still--when the perversity
+of heart made me not blind--the sweet creature to whom the task of
+ministering was a pleasure infinitely beyond any other which I knew.
+But, as she grew up to girlhood, other prospects opened upon her eyes,
+and other purposes upon those of her parents. At twelve she was carried
+by maternal vanity into company--sent to the dancing school--provided
+with teachers in music and painting, and made to understand--so far as
+the actions, looks, and words of all around could teach--that she
+was the cynosure of all eyes, to whom the whole world was bound in
+deference.
+
+Fortunately, in the case of Julia, the usual effects of maternal folly
+and indiscretion did not ensue. Nature interposed to protect her, and
+saved her in spite of them all. She was still the meek, modest
+child, solicitous of the happiness of all around her--unobtrusive,
+unassuming--kind to her inferiors, respectful to superiors, and
+courteous to, and considerate of all other persons. Her advancing years,
+which rendered these new acquisitions and accomplishments desirable, if
+not necessary, at the same time prompted her foolish mother to another
+step which betrayed the humiliating regard which she entertained for me.
+When I was seventeen, Julia was twelve, and when neither she nor myself
+had a solitary thought of love, the over considerate mother began to
+think, on this subject, for us both. The result of her cogitations
+determined her that it was no longer fitting that Julia should be my
+companion. Our rambles in the woods together were forbidden; and Julia
+was gravely informed that I was a poor youth, though her cousin--an
+orphan whom her father's charity supported, and whom the public charity
+schooled. The poor child artlessly told me all this, in a vain effort
+to procure from me an explanation of the mystery (which her mother had
+either failed or neglected to explain) by which such circumstances were
+made to account for the new commands which had been given her. Well
+might she, in her simplicity of heart, wonder why it was, that because I
+was poor, she should be familiar with me no longer.
+
+The circumstance opened my eyes to the fact that Julia was a tall
+girl, growing fast, already in her teens, and likely, under the
+rapidly-maturing influence of our summer sun, to be soon a woman. But
+just then--just when she first tasked me to solve the mystery of her
+mother's strange requisitions, I did not think of this. I was too much
+filled with indignation--the mortified self-esteem was too actively
+working in my bosom to suffer me to think of anything but the indignity
+with which I was treated. A brief portion of the dialogue between the
+child and my self, will give some glimpses of the blind heart by which I
+was afflicted.
+
+“Oh, you do not understand it, Julia. You do not know, then, that you
+are the daughter of a rich merchant--the only daughter--that you have
+servants to wait on you, and a carriage at command--that you can wear
+fine silks, and have all things that money can buy, and a rich man's
+daughter desire. You don't know these things, Julia, eh?”
+
+“Yes, Edward, I hear you say so now, and I hear mamma often say the same
+things; but still I don't see--”
+
+“You don't see why that should make a difference between yourself and
+your poor cousin, eh? Well, but it does; and though you don't see it
+now, yet it will not be very long before you will see, and understand
+it, and act upon it, too, as promptly as the wisest among them. Don't
+you know that I am the object of your father's charity--that his bounty
+feeds me--and that it would not be seemly that the world should behold
+me on a familiar footing of equality or intimacy with the daughter of
+my benefactor--my patron--without whom I should probably starve, or be a
+common beggar upon the highway?”
+
+“But father would not suffer that, Edward.”
+
+“Oh, no! no!--he would not suffer it, Julia, simply because his own
+pride and name would feel the shame and disgrace of such a thing. But
+though he would keep me from beggary and the highway, Julia, neither
+he nor your mother would spend a sixpence or make an effort to save my
+feelings from pain and misery. They protect me from the scorn of others,
+but they use me for their own.”
+
+The girl hung her head in silence.
+
+“And you, too,” I added--“the time will come when you too, Julia,
+will shrink as promptly as themselves from being seen with your poor
+relation. You--”
+
+“No! no! Edward--how can you think of such a thing?” she replied with
+girlish chiding.
+
+“Think it!--I know it! The time will soon be here. But--obey your
+mother, Julia. Go! leave me now. Begin, once the lesson which, before
+many days, you will find it very easy to learn.”
+
+This was all very manly, so I fancied at the time; and then blind with
+the perverse heart which boiled within me, I felt not the wantonness of
+my mood, and heeded not the bitter pain which I occasioned to her gentle
+bosom. Her little hand grasped mine, her warm tears fell upon it; but
+I flung away from her grasp, and left her to those childish meditations
+which I had made sufficiently mournful.
+
+Subsequent reflection, while it showed me the brutality of my conduct to
+Julia, opened my eyes to the true meaning of her mother's interdiction;
+and increased the pang of those bitter feelings, which my conscious
+dependence had awakened in my breast, it was necessary that this
+dependence should be lessened; that, as I was now approaching manhood, I
+should cast about for the future, and adopt wisely and at once the
+means of my support hereafter. It was necessary that I should begin the
+business of life. On this head I had already reflected somewhat, and my
+thoughts had taken their direction from more than one conference which I
+had had with William Edgerton. His father was an eminent lawyer, and the
+law had been adopted for his profession also. I determined to make it
+mine; and to speak on this subject to my uncle. This I did. I chose an
+afternoon, the very week in which my conversation had taken place with
+Julia, and, while the dinner things were undergoing removal, with some
+formality requested a private interview with him. He looked round at me
+with a raised brow of inquiry--nodded his head--and shortly after rose
+from the table. My aunt stared with an air of supercilious wonder; while
+poor Julia, timid and trembling, barely ventured to give me a single
+look, which said--and that was enough for me--“I wish I dared say more.”
+
+My conference with my uncle was not of long duration. I told him it was
+my purpose--my desire--to begin as soon as possible to do something for
+myself. His answer signified that such was his opinion also. So far we
+were agreed; but when I told him that it was my wish to study the law,
+he answered with sufficient, and as I thought, scornful abruptness:--
+
+“The law, indeed! What puts the law into your head? What preparations
+have you made to study the law? You know nothing of languages which
+every lawyer should know--Latin--”
+
+I interrupted him to say that I had some slight knowledge of
+Latin--sufficient, I fancied, for all legal purposes.
+
+“Ah! indeed! where did you get it?”
+
+“A friend lent me a grammar and dictionary, and I studied myself.”
+
+“Oh, you are ambitious; but you deceive yourself. You were never made
+for a lawyer. Besides, how are you to live while prosecuting your
+studies? No, no! I have been thinking of something for you, Edward--and,
+just now, it happens fortunately that old Squire Farmer, the bricklayer,
+wants some apprentices--”
+
+I could scarcely listen thus far.
+
+“I thank you, sir, but I have no disposition to be a bricklayer.”
+
+“You must do something for yourself. You can not expect to eat the bread
+of idleness. I have done, and will do for you what I can--whatever is
+necessary;--but I have my own family to provide for. I can not rob my
+own child---”
+
+“Nor do I expect it, Mr. Clifford,” I replied hastily, and with some
+indignation. “It is my wish, sir, to draw as little as possible from
+your income and resources. I would not rob Julia Clifford of a single
+dollar. Nay, sir, I trust before many years to be able to refund you
+every copper which has been spent upon me from the moment I entered your
+household.”
+
+He said hastily:--
+
+“I wish nothing of that, Edward;--but the law is a study of years, and
+is expensive and unpromising in every respect. Your clothes already call
+for a considerable sum, and such a profession requires, more than almost
+any other, that a student should be well dressed.”
+
+“I promise you, sir, that my dress shall be such as shall not trespass
+upon your income. I shall be governed by as much economy--”
+
+He interrupted me to say, that
+
+“His duty required that his brother's son should be dressed as well as
+his associates.”
+
+I replied, with tolerable composure:--
+
+“I do not think, sir, that bricklaying will admit of very genteel
+clothing, nor do I think that the vocation will suit me. I have
+flattered myself, sir, that my talents--”
+
+“Oh, you have talents, then, have you? Well, it is fortunate that the
+discovery has been made in season.”
+
+I bore with this, though my cheek was burning, and said--with an effort
+to preserve my voice and temper, in which, though the difficulty was
+great, I was tolerably successful--
+
+“You have misunderstood me in some things, Mr. Clifford; and I will try
+now to explain myself clearly in others. Having resolved, sir, that the
+law shall be my profession---”
+
+“Ha! resolved, say you?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Well, go on--go on!”
+
+“Having resolved to pursue the study of law, and seeing that I am
+burdensome and expensive to you--believing, too, that I can relieve you
+of the burden--I have simply requested permission of you to make the
+attempt.”
+
+“Why, how do you propose to do so?--how can you support yourself--that
+is relieve me of the burden of your expenses--and study the law at the
+same time?”
+
+“Such things have been done, sir; and can be done again. I flatter
+myself I can do it. Industry will enable me to do so. I propose to apply
+for a clerkship in a mercantile establishment which I know stands in
+need of assistance, and while there will pursue my studies in such
+intervals of leisure as the business will afford me.”
+
+“You seem to have the matter ready cut and dry. Why do you come to me,
+then? Remember, I can make no advances.”
+
+“I need none, sir. My simple object with you, sir, was to declare my
+intention, and to request that I may be permitted to refer to you the
+merchants to whom I mean to apply, for a knowledge of my character and
+attainments.”
+
+“Oh, certainly, you may--for the character;--but as to the
+attainments”--with a sneering smile--“of them I can say nothing, and,
+perhaps, the less said the better. I've no doubt you'll do well enough
+with the merchants. It does not need much genius or attainment for such
+situations. But, if you'll take my counsel, you'll go to the bricklayer.
+We want bricklayers sadly. To be a tolerable lawyer, parts are
+necessary; and God knows the country is over-stocked with hosts of
+lawyers already, whose only parts lie in their impudence. Better think a
+little while longer. Speak to old Farmer yourself.”
+
+I smiled bitterly--thanked him for his counsel, which was only a studied
+form of insult, and turned away from him without further speech, and
+with a proud swelling of indignation at my heart. Thus our conference
+ended. A week after, I was ensconced behind the counter of a wholesale
+dealer, and my hands at night were already busy in turning over the
+heavy folios of Chitty and Blackstone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+ADMITTED AMONG THE LAWYERS
+
+
+Behold me, then, merchandising by day, and conning by night the
+intricate mysteries of law. Books for the latter purpose were furnished
+by my old friend, William Edgerton, from his father's library. He
+himself was a student, beginning about the same time with myself; though
+with the superior privilege of devoting himself exclusively to this
+study. But if he had more time, I was more indefatigable. My pride was
+roused, and emulation soon enabled me to supply the want of leisure. My
+nights were surrendered, almost wholly, to my new pursuit. I toiled with
+all the earnestness which distinguished my temperament, stimulated to
+a yet higher degree by those feelings of pride and pique, which were
+resolved to convince my skeptical uncle that I was not entirely without
+those talents, the assertion of which had so promptly provoked his
+sneer. Besides, I had already learned that no such scheme as mine could
+be successfully prosecuted, unless by a stern resolution; and this
+implied the constant presence of a close, undeviating method in my
+studies. I tasked myself accordingly to read--understandingly, if
+possible--so many pages every night, making my notes, queries, doubts,
+&c., EN PASSANT. In order to do this, I prescribed to myself a rule,
+to pass directly from the toils of the day and the store to my chamber,
+suffering no stoppage by the way, and studiously denying myself the
+dangerous fascinations of that society which was everywhere at command,
+in the persons of young men about my own age and condition. The
+intensity of my character, and the suspiciousness which it induced,
+helped me in this determination. Perhaps, there is no greater danger to
+a young man's habits of study and business, than a chat at the street
+corner, with a merry and thoughtless group. A single half hour consumed
+in this manner, is almost always fatal to the remaining hours of the
+day. It breaks into the circle, and impairs the method without which
+the passage of the sun becomes a very weary and always an unprofitable
+progress. If you would be a student or anything, you must plunge
+headlong into it at the beginning--bury yourself in your business, and
+work your way out of your toils, by sheer, dogged industry.
+
+My labors were so far successful that I could prosecute my studies with
+independence. I had left the dwelling of my uncle the moment I took
+employment in the mercantile house. My salary, though small, was ample;
+with my habits, it was particularly so. I had few of those vices in
+which young men are apt to indulge, and which, when they become habits,
+cease unhappily to be regarded as vices. I used tobacco in no shape,
+and no ardent spirits. I needed no stimulants, and, by the way,
+true industry never does. It is only indolence that needs drink; and
+indolence does need it; and the sooner drunkenness kills indolence by
+the use of drink, the better for society. The only objection to liquors
+as an agent for ridding the community of a nuisance, is, that it is
+rather too slow, and too offensive in its detailed operations; arsenic
+would be far less offensive, more summary, and is far more certain.
+You would seek vainly to cure drunkenness, unless you first cure the
+idleness which is its root and strength, and, while they last, its
+permanent support. But my object is not homily.
+
+If I was free from vices such as these, however, I had vices of my own,
+which were only less odious as they were less obvious. That vexing,
+self-tormenting spirit of which I have spoken as the evil genius that
+dogged my footsteps--that moral perverseness which I have described as
+the “blind heart”--still afflicted me, though in a far less degree now
+than when I was the inmate of my uncle's dwelling, and exposed to all
+the caprices of himself, his wife and servants. I kept on good terms
+with my employers, for the very natural reason that they saw me attend
+to my business and theirs, with a hearty cheerfulness that went to work
+promptly in whatever was to be done, and executed its tasks with
+steady fortitude, neatness, and rapidity. But, even with them, I had my
+sulks--my humors--my stubborn fits of sullenness, that seemed anxious to
+provoke opposition, and awaken wrath. These, however, they considerately
+forgave in consideration of my real usefulness: and as they perceived
+that whatever might have been the unpleasantness occasioned by these
+specimens of spleen, they were never suffered to interfere with or
+retard the operations of business. “It's an ugly way he's got,” was,
+probably, the utmost extent of what either of the partners said, and of
+what is commonly said on such occasions by most persons, who do not care
+to trouble themselves with a too close inquiry.
+
+Well, at twenty-one, William Edgerton and myself were admitted to the
+practice of the law, and that too with considerable credit to ourselves.
+I had long since been carried by my friend into his family circle; and
+Mr. Edgerton, his father, had been pleased to distinguish me with sundry
+attentions, which were only grateful to me in consequence of the unusual
+deference with which his manner evinced his regard. His gentle inquiries
+and persuasive suggestions beguiled me into more freedom of speech than
+I had ever before been accustomed to; and his judicious management of my
+troubled spirit, for a time, stifled its contradictions, and suppressed
+its habitual tendencies. But it was with some jealousy, and an erectness
+of manner which was surely ungracious, though, perhaps, not offensive,
+that I endured and replied to his inquiries into my personal condition,
+my resources, and the nature of that dependence which I bore to the
+family of my uncle. When he learned--which he did not from me--in what
+manner I had pursued my studies--after what toils of the day, and
+at what late hours of the night--when he found from a close private
+examination, which he had given me, before my admission, that my
+knowledge of the law was quite as good as the greater number of those
+who apply for admission--he was pleased to express his astonishment at
+my perseverance, and delight at my success. When, too, in addition to
+this, he discovered, upon a minute inquiry from my employers and others,
+that I was abstemious, and indulged in no excesses of any kind, his
+interest in me increased, as I thought, who had been accustomed to
+nothing of the sort, beyond all reasonable measure-and I soon had
+occasion to perceive that it was no idle curiosity that prompted his
+consideration and inquiry.
+
+Without my knowledge, he paid a visit to my uncle. This gentleman, I may
+be permitted here to say, had been quite as much surprised as anybody
+else, at my determined prosecution of my studies in spite of the
+difficulties by which I was surrounded. That I was pursuing them, while
+in the mercantile establishment to which I had gone, he did not believe;
+and very frequently when I was at his house--for I visited the family,
+and sometimes, though unfrequently, dined with them on a sabbath--he
+jeered me on my progress--the “wonderful progress,” as he was pleased
+to term it--which he felt sure I was making with my Coke and Blackstone,
+while baling blankets, or bundling up plains and kerseys. This I bore
+patiently, sustained as I was by the proud, indomitable spirit within
+me, which assured me of the ultimate triumph which I felt positive would
+ensue. I enjoyed his surprise--a surprise that looked something like
+consternation--when the very day of my admission to the bar, and after
+that event, I encountered him in the street, and in answer to his usual
+sarcastic inquiry:--
+
+“Well, Edward, how does the law come on? How is Sir William Blackstone,
+Sir Edward Coke, and the rest of the white heads?”
+
+I simply put the parchment into his hands which declared my formal
+introduction to those venerable gentry.
+
+“Why, you don't mean? Is it possible? So you really are admitted--a
+lawyer, eh?”
+
+“You see, sir--and that, too, without any Greek.”
+
+“Well, and what good is it to do you? To have a profession, Edward, is
+one thing; to get business, another!”
+
+“Yes, sir--but I take it, the profession must be had first. One step
+is gained. That much is sure. The other, I trust, will follow in due
+season.”
+
+“True, but I still think that the bricklayer would make the more money.”
+
+“Were money-making, sir, the only object of life, perhaps, then, that
+would be the most desirable business; but--”
+
+“Oh, I forgot--the talents, the talents are to be considered.”
+
+And after the utterance of this sneer, our dialogue as may be supposed,
+did not much longer continue.
+
+I did not know of the contemplated visit of Mr. Edgerton to my worthy
+uncle, nor of its purpose, or I should, most assuredly, have put my veto
+upon the measure with all the tenacity of a resentful spirit; but this
+gentleman, who was a man of nice sensibility as well as strong good
+sense, readily comprehended a portion of my secret history from what
+was known to him. He easily conceived that my uncle was somewhat of
+a niggard from the manner in which I had employed myself during my
+preparation for the bar. He thought, however, that my uncle, though
+unwilling to expend money in the prosecution of a scheme which he did
+not approve--now that the scheme was so far successful as to afford
+every promise of a reasonable harvest, could not do less than come
+forward to the assistance of one who had shown such a determined
+disposition to assist himself.
+
+He was mistaken. He little knew the man. His interview with my uncle was
+a short one. The parties were already acquainted, though not intimately.
+They knew each other as persons of standing in the same community, and
+this made the opening of Mr. Edgerton's business easy. I state the tenor
+of the interview as it came to my knowledge afterward.
+
+“Mr. Clifford,” he said, “you have a nephew--a young gentleman, who has
+been recently admitted to the bar--Mr. Edward Clifford.”
+
+The reply, with a look of wonder was necessarily affirmative.
+
+“I have had much pleasure,” continued the other, “in knowing him for
+some time. He is an intimate of my eldest son, and from what has met my
+eyes, sir, I should say, you are fortunate in having a nephew of so much
+promise.”
+
+“Why, yes, sir, I believe he is a clever youth enough,” was the costive
+answer.
+
+“He is more than that, sir. I regard him, indeed, as a most astonishing
+young man. The very manner in which he has pursued his studies while
+engaged in the harassing labors of a large wholesale business house of
+this city--alone establishes this fact.”
+
+The cheeks of my uncle reddened. The last sentence of Mr. Edgerton
+was unfortunate for his object. It conveyed a tacit reproof, which the
+niggardly conscience of Mr. Clifford readily appropriated and, perhaps,
+anticipated. He dreaded lest Mr. Edgerton knew all.
+
+“You are probably aware, Mr. Edgcrton,” he replied with equal hesitancy
+and haste--“you have heard that Edward Clifford is an orphan--that he
+has nothing, and it was therefore necessary that he should learn to
+employ himself; though it was against my wish, sir, that he went into a
+mercantile house.”
+
+There was something suppressed in this--a mean evasion--for he could
+not easily have told Mr. Edgcrton, without a blush, that, instead of the
+mercantile establishment, he would have made me a bricklayer's hodman.
+But this, it seems, Edgerton had found out for himself. His reply,
+however, was calculated to soothe the jealous apprehensions of Mr.
+Clifford. He had an object in view, which he thought too important to
+risk for the small pleasure of a passing sarcasm.
+
+“Perhaps, it has happened for the best, Mr. Clifford. You were right in
+requiring the young man to do for himself. Were I worth millions, sir, I
+should still prefer that my son should learn that lesson--that he should
+work out his own deliverance with the sweat of his own brow.”
+
+“I agree with you, sir, perfectly,” replied the other, with increased
+complacency. “A boy learns to value his money as he should, only when he
+has earned it for himself.”
+
+“Ah! it is not for this object simply,” replied Mr. Edgerton, “that I
+would have him acquire habits of industry; it is for the moral results
+which such habits produce--the firmness, character, consistency--the
+strength and independence--temperance, justice--all of which arise, and
+almost only, from obedience to this law. But it is clear that one can
+not do everything by himself, and this young man, though he has gone on
+in a manner that might shame the best of us, is still not so thoroughly
+independent as he fancies himself. It will be some time before he will
+be able to realize anything from his profession, and he will need some
+small assistance in the meantime.”
+
+“I can not help him,” exclaimed Mr. Clifford, abruptly--“I have not the
+means to spare. My own family need everything that I can give. He has
+himself only to blame. He chose his profession for himself. I warned him
+against it. He needn't send to me.”
+
+“Do not mistake me, Mr. Clifford,” said Mr. Edgerton, calmly. “Your
+nephew knows nothing of my present visit. I would be loath that he
+should know. It was the singular independence of his mind that led me
+to the conviction, that he would sooner die than ask assistance from
+anybody, that persuaded me to suggest to you in what manner you might
+afford him an almost necessary help, without offending his sensibility.”
+
+“Humph!” exclaimed the other, while a sneer mantled upon his lips. “You
+are very considerate, Mr. Edgerton; but the same sensibilities might
+prompt him to reject the assistance when tendered.”
+
+“No, sir,” replied Edgerton, mildly--“I think I could manage that.”
+
+“I am sorry, sir, that I can not second your wishes in any material
+respect,” was the answer of my uncle;--“but I will see Edward, and let
+him know that my house is open to him as it was from, the time he
+was four years old; and he shall have a seat at my table until he can
+establish himself more to his satisfaction; but money, sir, in truth, I
+have not a cent to spare. My own necessities--”
+
+“Enough, sir,” said Mr. Edgerton, mildly; “I take it for granted, Mr.
+Clifford, that if you could contribute to the success of your brother's
+son, you certainly would neither refuse nor refrain to do so.”
+
+“Oh, surely--certainly not,” replied the other, hastily. “Anything
+that I could do--anything in reason, sir, I should be very happy to do,
+but--”
+
+And then followed the usual rigmarole about “his own family,” and
+“hard times,” and “diminished resources,” and all those stereotype
+commonplaces which are for ever on the lips of stereotype insincere
+people. Mr. Clifford did not perceive the dry and somewhat scornful
+innuendo, which lay at the bottom of Mr. Edgerton's seemingly innocent
+assumption; and the latter took his leave, vexed with himself at
+having made the unsuccessful application--but still more angry with the
+meanness of character which he had encountered in my uncle.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+“She still soothed The mock of others.”
+
+
+It is not improbable that, after a few hours given to calm reflection,
+my uncle perceived how obnoxious he might be made to public censure for
+his narrow treatment of my claims; and the next day he sent for me in
+order to tender me the freedom of his house--a tender which he had made
+the day before to Mr. Edgerton in my behalf. But his offer had been
+already anticipated by that excellent friend that very day. Coming warm
+and fresh from his interview with my uncle, he called upon me, and in a
+very plain, direct, business-like, but yet kind and considerate manner,
+informed me that he stood very much in need of an assistant who would
+prepare his papers--did me the honor to say that he fancied I would suit
+him better than anybody else he knew, and offered me six hundred dollars
+for my labors in that capacity for the first year of my service. My
+engagement to him, he said at the same time, did not imply such entire
+employment as would incapacitate me for the execution of any business
+which might be intrusted to my hands individually. I was permitted the
+use of a desk in his office, and was also permitted to hang out my own
+banner from his window I readily persuaded myself that I could be
+of service to Mr. Edgerton--such service as would, perhaps, leave
+my obligation a light one--and promptly acceded to his offer. He had
+scarcely departed when a servant brought a note from Mr. Clifford. Even
+while meditating what he fancied was a favor, he could not forbear the
+usual sneer. The following was his communication:
+
+“DEAR EDWARD: If you can spare a moment from your numerous clients, and
+are not in a great hurry to make your deposites, you will suffer me to
+see you at the office before two o'clock. Yours affectionately, J. B.
+CLIFFORD.”
+
+“Very affectionately!”! exclaimed. It might be nothing more than a
+pleasantry which he intended by the offensive passages in his note; but
+the whole tenor of his character and conduct forbade this conviction.
+
+“No! no!” I muttered to myself, as the doubt suggested itself to my
+mind; “no! no! it is the old insolence--the insolence of pride, of
+conscious wealth--of power, as he thinks, to crush! But he is mistaken.
+He shall find defiance. Let him but repeat those sarcasms and that sneer
+which are but too frequent on his lips when he speaks to me, and I will
+answer him, for the first time, by a narration which shall sting him to
+the very soul, if he has one!”
+
+This resolution was scarcely made when the image of Julia Clifford--the
+sweet child--a child now no longer-the sweet woman--interposed, and
+my temper was subdued of its resolve, though its bitterness remained
+unqualified.
+
+And what of Julia Clifford? I have said but little of her for some
+time past, but she has not been forgotten. Far from it. She was still
+sufficiently the attraction that drew me to the dwelling of my
+selfish uncle. In the three years that I had been at the mercantile
+establishment, her progress, in mind and person, had been equally
+ravishing and rapid. She was no more the child, but the blooming
+girl--the delicate blossom swelling to the bud--the bud bursting into
+the flower--but the bloom, and the beauty, and the innocence--the rich
+tenderness, and the dewy sweet, still remained the same through all the
+stages of her progress from the infant to the woman. Wealth, and the
+arrogant example of those about her, had failed to change the naturally
+true and pure simplicity of her character. She was not to be beguiled by
+the one, nor misguided by the other, from the exquisite heart which was
+still worthy of Eden. When I was admitted to the bar at twenty-one, she
+was sixteen--the age in our southern country when a maiden looks her
+loveliest. But I had scarcely felt the changes in the last three years
+which had been going on in her. I beheld beauties added to beauties,
+charms to charms; and she seemed every day to be the possessor of fresh
+graces newly dropped from heaven; but there was no change. Increased
+perfection does not imply change, nor does it suffer it.
+
+It was my custom, as the condescending wish of my uncle expressed, that
+I should take my Sunday dinner with his family. I complied with this
+request, and it was no hard matter to do so. But it was a sense of
+delight, not of duty, that made me comply; and, but for Julia, I feel
+certain that I should never have darkened the doors, which opened to
+admit me only through a sense of duty. But the attraction--scarcely
+known to myself--drew me with singular punctuality; and I associated the
+privilege which had been accorded me with another. I escorted the ladies
+to church; sometimes, too, when the business of my employers permitted,
+I spent an evening during the week with the family; and beholding Julia
+I was not over-anxious to perceive the indifference with which I was
+treated by all others.
+
+But let me retrace my steps. I subdued my choler so far as to go, with a
+tolerable appearance of calmness if not humility, to the interview which
+my uncle had been pleased to solicit. I need not repeat in detail what
+passed between us. It amounted simply to a supercilious offer, on his
+part, of lodging and board, until I should be sufficiently independent
+to open the oyster for myself. I thanked him with respect and civility,
+but, to his surprise, declined to accept his offer.
+
+“Why, what do you propose to do?” he demanded.
+
+“Do what I have been doing for the three past years; work for myself,
+and pay my board from the proceeds of my own labor.”
+
+“What, you go back to the merchants, do you? You are wiser than I
+thought. The law would not give you your bread here for twenty years in
+this city.”
+
+“You are mistaken, uncle,” I said, good humoredly--“it is from the law
+that I propose to get my bread.”
+
+“Indeed!--You are even more sanguine than I thought you. But, pray, upon
+what do you base your expectations?--the talents, I suppose.”
+
+I felt the rankling of this well-known and offensive sneer, but replied
+simply to the point:--
+
+“No, sir, upon assurances which you will probably think far more worthy
+of respect. I have already been employed by Mr. Edgerton as an attorney,
+at a salary of six hundred dollars.”
+
+“Ah, indeed! Well, you are a fortunate fellow, I must say, to get such a
+helping hand at the outset. But you may want some small amount to begin
+with--you can not draw upon Mr. Edgerton before services are rendered,
+and if fifty or a hundred dollars, Edward--”
+
+“I thank you, sir;--so far from wanting money, I should be almost able
+to lend some. I have saved some two hundred from my mercantile salary.”
+
+I enjoyed the ghastly grin which rose to his features. It was evident
+that he was not pleased that I should be independent. He had set out
+with the conviction, when my father died, that my support and education
+would devolve upon him, and though they did not, yet it was plain enough
+to me that he was not unwilling that such should be the impression of
+the community. I had disarmed him entirely by the simplest process, and,
+mortified at being disappointed, he was disposed to hate the youth
+who had baffled him. It was the strangest thing in the world that such
+should be the feeling of any man, and that, too, in reference to so near
+a relation; but the case is nevertheless true. I saw it in his looks
+that moment--I felt it in his accents. I KNEW that such was the real
+feeling in his soul. There are motives which grow from vanities, piques,
+rivalries, and the miserable ostentations of a small spirit, which act
+more terribly upon the passions of man, than even the desire of gain or
+the love of woman. The heart of Mr. Clifford, was, after its particular
+fashion, a blind heart, like my own.
+
+“Well, I am glad you are so well off. You will dine with us on Sunday, I
+suppose?”
+
+My affirmative was a matter of course; and, on Sunday, the evident
+gratification of Julia when she saw me, amply atoned for all her
+father's asperities and injustice. She had heard of my success--and
+though in a sneer from the lips of her father it was not the less
+productive of an evident delight to her. She met me with the expression
+of this delight upon all her features.
+
+“I am so glad, so very glad, and so surprised, too, Cousin Edward, at
+your success. And yet you kept it all to yourself. You might have told
+ME, at least, that you were studying law. Why was it that I was never
+allowed to know of your intention?”
+
+“Your father knew it, Julia.”
+
+“Yes, so he says now. He says you told him something about it when you
+first went into a store; but he did not think you in earnest.”
+
+“Not in earnest! He little knew me, Julia.”
+
+“But your telling him, Edward, was not telling me. Why did you not tell
+me?”
+
+“You might not have kept my secret, Julia. You know what naughty things
+are said of your sex, touching your inability to keep a secret.”
+
+“Naughty things, indeed--naughty and untrue! I'm sure, I should have
+kept your secret, if you desired it. But why should it be a secret?”
+
+“Why, indeed!” I muttered, as the shadow of my perverseness passed
+deeply over my heart. “Why, unless to protect myself from the sneers
+which would stifle my ambition, and the sarcasm which would have stung
+my heart.”
+
+“But you have no fear of these from me, Cousin Edward,” she said gently,
+and with dewy eyes, while her fingers slightly pressed upon my wrist.
+
+“I know not that, Cousin Julia, I somehow suspect everything and
+everybody now. I feel very lonely in the world--as if there was a
+destiny at work to make my whole life one long conflict, which I must
+carry on without sympathy or succor.”
+
+“Oh, these are only notions, Edward.”
+
+“Notions!” I exclaimed, giving her a bitter smile as I spoke, while my
+thoughts reverted to the three years of unremitting and almost uncheered
+labor through which I had passed.
+
+“Yes, notions only, Cousin Edward. You are full of such notions. You
+every now and then start up with a new one; and it makes you gloomy and
+discontented--”
+
+“I make no complaints, Julia.”
+
+“No, that is the worst of it. You make no complaints, I think, because
+you do not wish to be cured of them. You prefer nursing your supposed
+cause of grief, with a sort of solitary pleasure--the gratification of a
+haughty spirit, that is too proud to seek for solace, and to find it.”
+
+Julia had in truth touched upon the true nature of my misanthropy--of
+that self vexing and self-torturing spirit which too effectually blinds
+the heart.
+
+“But could I find it, Julia?” I asked, looking into her eyes with an
+expression which I began to feel was something very new to mine.
+
+“Perhaps--I think--you could,” was the half-tremulous answer, as she
+beheld the peculiar expression of my glance. The entrance of Mrs.
+Clifford, was, perhaps, for the first time, rather a relief to us both.
+
+“And so you are a lawyer, Edward? Well, who would have thought of it? It
+must be a very easy thing to be made a lawyer.”
+
+Julia looked at me with eyes that reddened with vexation. I felt my
+gorge rising; but when I reflected upon the ignorance, and the unworthy
+nature of the speaker, I overcame the disposition to retort, and
+smilingly replied:--
+
+“It's not such hard work as bricklaying, certainly.”
+
+“Ah,” she answered, “if it were only half so profitable. But Mr.
+Clifford says that a lawyer now is only another name for a beggar--a
+sort of genteel beggar. The town's overrun with them--half of them live
+upon their friends.”
+
+“I trust I shall not add to the number of this class, Mrs. Clifford.”
+
+“Oh, no! I know YOU never will, Cousin Edward,” exclaimed Julia, with a
+flush upon her cheeks at her own temerity.
+
+“Really, Julia,” said her mother, “you are very confident. How do you
+know anything about it?”
+
+The sharp glances of rebuke which accompanied this speech daunted the
+damsel for a moment, and her eyes were suddenly cast in confusion upon
+the ground; but she raised them with boldness a moment after, as she
+replied:--
+
+“We have every assurance, mother, for what I say, in the fact that
+Cousin Edward has been supporting himself at another business, while
+actually pursuing the study of law for these three years; and that very
+pride about which father spoke today, is another assurance--”
+
+“Bless my stars, child, you have grown very pert on a sudden, to talk
+about guaranties and assurances, just as if you was a lawyer yourself.
+The next thing we hear, I suppose, will be that instead of being busy
+over the 'Seven Champions' and the last fashions, you, too, will be
+turning over the leaves of big law-books, and carrying on such studies
+in secret to surprise a body, as if there was any merit or good in doing
+such things secretly.”
+
+Julia felt that she had only made bad worse, and she hung her head in
+silence. For my part, though I suppressed my choler, the pang was only
+the more keenly felt for the effort to hide it. In my secret soul, I
+asked, “Will the day never come when I, too, will be able to strike and
+sting?” I blushed an instant after, at the small and mean appetite
+for revenge that such an inquiry implied. But I came to the support of
+Julia.
+
+“Let me say, Mrs. Clifford, that I think--nay, I know--that Julia is
+right in her conjecture. The guaranty which I have given to my friends,
+by the pride and industry which I have shown, should be sufficient to
+convince them what my conduct shall be hereafter. I know that I shall
+never trespass upon their feelings or their pockets. They shall neither
+blush for nor lose by their relationship with Edward Clifford.”
+
+“Well said! well spoken! with good emphasis and proper action. Forrest
+himself could scarce have done it better!”
+
+Such was the exclamation of Mr. Clifford, who entered the room at this
+moment. His mock applause was accompanied by a clamorous clapping of his
+hands. I felt my cheeks burn, and my blood boil. The truth is, I was
+not free from the consciousness that I had suffered some of the
+grandiloquent to appear in my manner while speaking the sentence which
+had provoked the ridicule of my uncle. The sarcasm acquired increase of
+sting in consequence of its being partially well-merited. I replied with
+some little show of temper, which the imploring glances of Julia did
+not altogether persuade me to suppress. The “blind heart” was
+growing stronger within me, from the increasing conviction of my own
+independence. In this sort of mimic warfare the day passed off as usual.
+I attended the family to church in the afternoon, took tea, and
+spent the evening with them--content to suffer the “stings and
+arrows”--however outrageous, of my exemplary and Christian aunt and
+uncle, if permitted to enjoy the presence and occasional smiles of the
+true angel, whose influence could still temper my feelings into a humane
+and patient toleration of influences which they yet burned to trample
+under foot.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+DEBUT.
+
+
+A brief interval now passed over, after my connection begun with
+Mr. Edgerton, in which time the world went on with me more smoothly,
+perhaps, than ever. My patron--for so this gentleman deserves to
+be called--was as indulgent as I could wish. He soon discerned
+the weaknesses in my character, and with the judgment of an old
+practitioner, he knew how to subdue and soften, without seeming to
+perceive them. I need not say that I was as diligent and industrious,
+and not less studious, while in his employ, than I had been in that of
+my mercantile acquaintance. The entire toils of the desk soon fell upon
+my shoulders, and I acquired the reputation among my small circle of
+acquaintance, of being a very good attorney for a young beginner. It
+is true, I was greatly helped by the continued perusal of an admirable
+collection of old precedents, which a long period of extensive practice
+had accumulated in the collection of my friend. But to be an attorney,
+simply, was not the bound of my ambition. I fancied that the forum was,
+before all others, my true field of exertion. The ardency of my temper,
+the fluency of my speech, the promptness of my thought, and the warmth
+of my imagination, all conspired in impressing on me the belief that I
+was particularly fitted for the arena of public disputation. This, I may
+add, was the opinion of Mr. Edgerton also; and I soon sought an occasion
+for the display of my powers.
+
+It was the custom at our bar--and a custom full of danger--for young
+beginners to take their cases from the criminal docket. Their “'prentice
+han',” was usually exercised on some wretch from the stews, just as
+the young surgeon is permitted to hack the carcass of a tenant of the
+“Paupers' Field,” the better to prepare him for practice on living and
+more worthy victims. Was there a rascal so notoriously given over to the
+gallows that no hope could possibly be entertained of his extrication
+from the toils of the evidence, and the deliberations of a jury, he was
+considered fair game for the young lawyers, who, on such cases, gathered
+about him with all the ghostly and keen propensities of vultures about
+the body of the horse cast out upon the commons.
+
+The custom was evil, and is now, I believe, abandoned. It led to much
+irreverence among thoughtless young men--to an equal disregard of that
+solemnity which should naturally attach to the court of justice, and to
+the life of the prisoner arraigned before it. A thoughtless levity too
+frequently filled the mind of the young lawyer and his hearers, when it
+was known that the poor wretch on trial was simply regarded as an agent,
+through whose miserable necessity, the beginner was to try his strength
+and show his skill in the art of speech-making. It was my fortune,
+acting rather in compliance with the custom than my own preference, to
+select one of these victims and occasions for my debut. I could have
+done otherwise. Mr. Edgerton freely tendered to me any one of several
+cases of his own, on the civil docket, in which to make my appearance;
+but I was unwilling to try my hand upon a case in which the penalty of
+ill success might be a serious loss to my friend's client, and might
+operate to the injury of his business; and, another reason for my
+preference was to be found--though not expressed by me--in the secret
+belief which I entertained that I was peculiarly gifted with the art of
+appealing to the passions, and the sensibilities of my audience.
+
+Having made my determination, I proceeded to prepare myself by a due
+consideration of the case at large; the history of the transaction,
+which involved the life of my client--(the allegation was for
+murder)--and of the testimony of the witnesses so far as it had been
+suggested in the EXPARTE examination before the grand jury. I reviewed
+the several leading principles on the subject of the crime; its
+character, the sort of evidence essential to conviction, and certainly,
+to do myself all justice, as effectually prepared myself for the duties
+of the trial as probably any young man of the time and community was
+likely to have done. The case, I need not add, was hopelessly against
+me; the testimony conclusive; and I had nothing to do but to weigh its
+character with keen examination, pick out and expose its defects and
+inconsistencies, and suggest as plausible a presumption in favor of
+the accused, as could be reasonably made out from the possibilities
+and doubts by which all human occurrences are necessarily attended.
+Something, too, might be done by judicious appeals to the principle of
+mercy, assuming for the jury a discretion on this subject which, by the
+way, they have no right to exercise.
+
+I was joined in the case by my friend, young Edgerton. So far our boyish
+fortunes had run together, and he was not unwilling, though against his
+father's counsel, to take the same occasion with me for entering the
+world in company. The term began; the case was one of the last on the
+criminal docket, and the five days which preceded that assigned for
+the trial, were days, I am constrained to confess, of a thrilling and
+terrible agitation to my mind. I can scarcely now recall the feelings
+of that week without undergoing a partial return of the same painful
+sensations. My soul was striving as with itself, and seeking an outlet
+for escape. I panted, as if for breath--my tongue was parched--my lips
+clammy--my voice, in the language of the poet, clove to the roof of my
+throat. Altogether, I have never felt such emotions either before or
+since.
+
+I will not undertake to analyze them, or account for those conflicting
+sensations which make us shrink, with something like terror, from
+the very object which we desire. At length the day came, and the man;
+attended by his father, William Edgerton, and myself, took our places,
+and stood prepared for the issue. I looked round me with a dizzy feeling
+of uncertainty. Objects appeared to swim and tremble before my sight. My
+eyes were of as little service to me then as if they had been gazing to
+blindness upon the sun. Everything was confused and imperfect. I could
+see that the courthouse was filled to overflowing, and this increased my
+feebleness. The case was one that had occasioned considerable excitement
+in the community, It was one of no ordinary atrocity. This was a
+sufficient reason why the audience should be large. There was yet
+another. There were two new debutants. In a community where popular
+eloquence is, of all others, perhaps the most desirable talent, this
+circumstance was well calculated to bring many listeners. Besides,
+something was expected from both Edgerton and myself. We had not reached
+our present position without making for ourselves a little circle, in
+which we had friends to approve and exult, and enemies to depreciate,
+and condemn.
+
+The proceedings were at length opened by the attorney-general, the
+witnesses examined, and turned over to us for cross-examination. This
+part of the duty was performed by my associate. The business fairly
+begun, my distraction was lessened. My mind, driven to a point, made a
+decisive stand; and the sound of Edgerton's voice, as he proposed his
+questions, served still more to dissipate my confusion. I furnished
+him with sundry questions, and our examination was admitted to be quite
+searching and acute. My friend went through his part of the labor with
+singular coolness. He was in little or no respect excited. He, perhaps,
+was deficient in enthusiasm. If there was no faltering in what he said,
+there was no fine phrensy. His remarks and utterance were subdued to
+the plainest demands of the subject. They were shrewd and sensible, not
+particularly ingenious, nor yet deficient in the proper analysis of the
+evidence. He acquitted himself creditably.
+
+It was my part to reply to the prosecuting attorney; but when I rose,
+I was completely confounded. Never shall I forget the pang of that
+impotence which seemed to overspread my frame, and to paralyze every
+faculty of thought and speech. I was the victim to my own ardor. A
+terrible reaction of mind had taken place, and I was prostrated. The
+desire to achieve greatness--the belief that it was expected from
+me--the consciousness that hundreds of eyes were then looking into mine
+with hungering expectation, overwhelmed me! I felt that I could freely
+have yielded myself for burial beneath the floor on which I stood.
+My cheeks were burning, yet my hands were cold as ice, and my knees
+tottered as with an ague. I strove to speak, however; the eyes of the
+judge met mine, and they looked the language of encouragement--of pity.
+But this expression only increased my confusion. I stammered out nothing
+but broken syllables and incoherent sentences. What I was saying, I know
+not--how long I presented this melancholy spectacle of imbecility to the
+eyes of my audience, I know not. It may have been a few minutes only.
+To me it seemed an age; and I was just endued with a sufficient power
+of reflection to ask myself whether I had not better sit down at once in
+irreversible despair, when my wandering and hitherto vacant eyes caught
+a glance-a single glance--of a face opposite.
+
+It was that of my uncle! He was perched on one of the loftiest benches,
+conspicuous among the crowd--his eyes keenly fixed upon mine, and
+his features actually brightened by a smile of triumphant malice and
+exultation.
+
+That glance restored me. That single smile brought me strength. I was
+timid, and weak, and impotent no longer. Under the presence of habitual
+scorn, my habitual pride and independence returned to me. The tremors
+left my limbs. The clammy huskiness which had loaded my tongue, and made
+it cleave to the roof of my mouth, instantly departed; and my whole mind
+returned to my control as if beneath the command of some almighty voice.
+I now saw the judge distinctly--I could see the distinct features
+of every juryman; and with the pride of my restored consciousness, I
+retorted the smile upon my uncle's face with one of contempt, which was
+not without its bitterness.
+
+Then I spoke, and spoke with an intenseness, a directness of purpose
+and aim--a stern deliberateness--a fire and a feeling--which certainly
+electrified my hearers with surprise, if with no more elevated emotions.
+That one look of hostility had done more for my mind than could have
+been effected in my behalf by all the kind looks and encouraging voices
+of all the friends in creation.
+
+After a brief exordium, containing some general proposition on the
+subject of human testimony, which meant no more than to suggest the
+propriety of giving to the prisoner the benefit of what was doubtful and
+obscure in the testimony which had been taken against him--I
+proceeded to compare and contrast its several parts. There were some
+inconsistencies in the evidence which enable me to make something of a
+case. The character of the witnesses was something more than doubtful
+and that, too, helped, in a slight degree, my argument. This was rapid,
+direct, closely wound together, and proved--such was the opinion freely
+expressed by others, afterward--that I had the capacity for consecutive
+arrangement of facts and inferences in a very remarkable degree. I
+closed with an appeal in favor of that erring nature, which, even in
+our own cases, led us hourly to the commission of sins and errors; and
+which, where the individual was poor, wretched, and a stranger, under
+the evil influences of destitution, vicious associations, and a lot in
+life, which, of necessity, must be low, might well persuade us to look
+with an eye of qualified rebuke upon his offences.
+
+This was, of course, no argument, and was only to be considered the
+natural close of my labors. Before I was half through I saw my uncle
+rise from his seat, and hastily leave the court-room; and then I knew
+that I was successful--that I had triumphed, through that stimulating
+influence of his hate, over my own fears and feebleness. I felt sure
+that the speech must be grateful to the rest of my hearers, which HE
+could not stay to hear; and in this conviction, the tone of my spirits
+became elevated--the thoughts gushed from me like rain, in a natural
+and unrestrainable torrent of language--my voice was clear and full, far
+more so than I had ever thought it could be made--and my action far more
+animated, perhaps, than either good taste or the occasion justified. The
+criminal was not acquitted; but both William Edgerton and myself were
+judged to have been eminently successful.
+
+The result of my debut, in other respects, was flattering far beyond
+my expectations. Business poured in upon me. My old employers,
+the merchants, were particularly encouraging and friendly. They
+congratulated me warmly on my success, assured me that they had always
+thought I was better calculated for the law than trade; and ended by
+putting into my hands all their accounts that needed a legal agency for
+collection. Mr. Edgerton was loud in his approbation, and that very week
+saw his son and myself united in co-partnership, with the prospect of
+an early withdrawal of the father from business in my favor. Indeed,
+the latter gave us to understand that his only purpose now was to see
+us fairly under way, with a sufficient knowledge of the practice, and
+assured of the confident of his own friends, in order to give his years
+and enfeebled health a respite from the toils of the profession.
+
+My worthy uncle, true to himself, played a very different part from
+these gentlemen. He hung back, forbore all words on the subject of my
+debut, and of the promising auspices under which my career was begun,
+and actually placed certain matters of legal business into the hands
+of another lawyer. Of this, he himself gave me the first information in
+very nearly this language:--
+
+“I have just had to sue Yardle & Fellows, and a few others, Edward, and
+I thought of employing you, but you are young, and there may be some
+legal difficulties in the way:--but when you get older, and arrive at
+some experience, we will see what can be done for you.”
+
+“You are perfectly right, sir,” was my only answer, but the smile upon
+my lips said everything. I saw, then, that HE COULD NOT SMILE. He was
+now exchanging the feeling of scorn which he formerly entertained for
+one of a darker quality. Hate was the necessary feeling which followed
+the conviction of his having done me wilful injustice--not to speak of
+the duties left undone, which were equally his shame.
+
+There were several things to mortify him in my progress. His sagacity as
+a man of the world stood rebuked--his conduct as a gentleman--his blood
+as a relation, who had not striven for the welfare and good report of
+his kin, and who had suffered unworthy prejudices, the result of equal
+avarice and arrogance, to operate against him.
+
+There is nothing which a base spirit remembers with so much malignant
+tenacity as your success in his despite. Even in the small matter just
+referred to, the appropriation of his law business, the observant fates
+gave me my revenge. By a singular coincidence of events, the very firm
+against which he had brought action the day before were clients of
+Mr. Edgerton. That gentleman was taken with a serious illness at the
+approach of the next court, and the business of their defence devolved
+upon his son and myself; and finally, when it was disposed of, which
+did not happen till near the close of that year, it so happened that I
+argued the case; and was successful.
+
+Mr Clifford was baffled, and you may judge the feeling with which he now
+regarded me. He had long since ceased to jest with me and at my expense.
+He was now very respectful, and I could see that his dislike grew
+daily in strict degree with his deference. But the deportment of
+Mr. Clifford--springing as it did from that devil, which each man is
+supposed to carry at times in his bosom, and of whose presence in mine
+at seasons I was far from unaware--gave me less annoyance than that of
+another of his household. Julia, too, had put on an aspect which, if
+not that of coldness, was at least, that of a very marked reserve. I
+ascribed this to the influence of her parents--perhaps, to her own
+sense of what was due to their obvious desires--to her own feeling of
+indifference--to any and every cause but the right one.
+
+There were other circumstances to alarm me, in connection with this
+maiden. She was, as I have said, singularly beautiful; and, as I
+thought, until now, singularly meek and considerate. Her charms, about
+which there could be no two opinions, readily secured her numerous
+admirers, and when these were strengthened by the supposed fortune of
+which she was to be the heiress, the suitors were, some of them, almost
+as pressing, after the fashion of the world in which we lived, as those
+of Penelope. I now no longer secured her exclusive regard at the
+evening fireside or in our way to church. There were gallants on either
+hand--gay, dashing lads, with big whiskers, long locks, and smart
+ratans, upon whom madame, our lady-mother, looked with far more
+complacency than upon me. The course of Julia, herself, was, however,
+unexceptionable. She was singularly cautious in her deportment, and, if
+reserved to me the most jealous scrutiny--after due reflection--never
+enabled me to discover that she was more lavish of her regards to any
+other. But the discovery of her position led me to another discovery
+which the reader will wonder, as I did myself, that I had not made
+before. This was the momentous discovery that my heart was irretrievably
+lost to her--that I loved her with all the intensity of a first passion,
+which, like every other passion in my heart, was absorbing during its
+prevalence. I could name my feelings to myself only when I perceived
+that such feelings were entertained by others;--only when I found that
+the prize, which I desired beyond all others, was likely to be borne
+away by strangers, did I know how much it was desirable to myself.
+
+The discovery of this affection instantly produced its natural effects
+as well upon my deportment as upon my feelings; and that sleepless
+spirit of suspicion and doubt--that true creature and consequence of the
+habitual distrust which my treatment from boyhood had instilled into my
+mind--at once rose to strength and authority within me, and swayed me
+even as the blasts of November sway the bald tops of the slender trees
+which the gusts have already denuded of all foliage. The change in
+Julia's deportment, of which I have already spoken, increased the
+febrile fears and suspicions which filled my soul and overcame my
+judgment. She too--so I fancied--had learned to despise and dislike me,
+under the goading influences of her father's malice and her mother's
+silly prejudices. I jumped to the conclusion instantly, that I was bound
+to my self to assert my superiority, my pride and independence, in such
+a manner, as most effectually to satisfy all parties that their hate or
+love was equally a matter of indifference.
+
+You may judge what my behavior was after this. For a time, at least, it
+was sufficiently unbecoming. The deportment of Julia grew more reserved
+than ever, and her looks more grave. There was a sadness evidently
+mingled with this gravity which, amid all the blindness of my heart,
+I could not help but see. She became sadder and thinner every day; and
+there was a wo-begone listlessness about her looks and movements which
+began to give me pain and apprehension. I discovered, too after a while,
+that some apprehensions had also crept into the minds of her parents in
+respect to her health. Their looks were frequently addressed to her in
+evident anxiety. They restrained her exercises, watched the weather when
+she proposed to go abroad, strode in every way to keep her from fatigue
+and exposure; and, altogether, exhibited a degree of solicitude which at
+length had the effect of arousing mine.
+
+Involuntarily, I approached her with more tenderness than my vexing
+spirit had recently permitted me to show; but I recoiled from the
+effects of my own attentions. I was vexed to perceive that my approaches
+occasioned a start, a flutter--a shrinking inward--as if my advance had
+been obtrusive, and my attempts at familiarity offensive.
+
+I was then little schooled in the intricacies of the female heart. I
+little conjectured the origin of that seemingly paradoxical movement of
+the mind, which, in the case of one, sensitive and exquisitely delicate,
+prompts to flight from the very pursuit which it would yet invite; which
+dreads to be suspected of the secret which it yet most loves to cherish,
+and seeks to protect, by concealment, the feelings which it may not
+defend; even as the bird hides the little fledglings of its care from
+the hunter, whom it dare not attack.
+
+Stupid, and worse than stupid, my blind heart saw nothing of this, and
+perverted what it saw. I construed the conduct of Julia into matter of
+offence, to be taken in high dudgeon and resolutely resented; and I
+drew myself up stiffly when she appeared, and by excess of ceremonious
+politeness only, avoided the reproach of brutality. Yet, even at such
+moments, I could see that there was a dewy reproach in her eyes, which
+should have humbled me, and made me penitent. But the effects of fifteen
+years of injudicious management were not to be dissipated in a few
+days even by the Ithuriel spells of love. My sense of independence
+and self-resource had been stimulated to a diseased excess, until,
+constantly on the QUI VIVE, it became dogged and inflexible. It was a
+work of time to soften me and make me relent; and the labor then was one
+of my own secret thoughts, and unbiased private decision. The attempt to
+persuade or reason me into a conviction was sure to be a failure.
+
+Months passed in this manner without effecting any serious change in
+Julia, or in bringing us a step nearer to one another. Meanwhile, the
+sphere of my observation and importance increased, as the circle of my
+acquaintance became extended. I was regarded as a rising young man,
+and one likely to be successful ultimately in my profession. The social
+privileges of my friends, the Edgertons, necessarily became mine; and it
+soon occurred that I encountered my uncle and his family in circles
+in which it was somewhat a matter of pride with him to be permitted to
+move. This, as it increased my importance in his sight, did not diminish
+his pains. But he treated me now with constant deference, though with
+the same unvarying coldness. When in the presence of others, he warmed a
+little. I was then “his nephew;” and he would affect to speak with great
+familiarity on the subject of my business, my interests, the last
+case in which I was engaged, and so forth--the object of which was to
+persuade third persons that our relations were precisely as they should
+be, and as people would naturally suppose them.
+
+At all these places and periods, when it was my lot to meet with Julia,
+she was most usually the belle of the night. A dozen attendants followed
+in her train, solicitous of all her smiles, and only studious how to
+afford her pleasure. I, only, stood aloof--I, who loved her with a more
+intense fervor than all, simply because I had none, or few besides to
+love. The heart which has been evermore denied, will always burn with
+this intensity. Its passion, once enkindled, will be the all-absorbing
+flame. Devoted itself, it exacts the most religious devotion; and,
+unless it receives it, recoils upon its own resources, and shrouds
+itself in gloom, simply to hide its sufferings from detection.
+
+I affected that indifference to the charms of this maiden, which no one
+of human sensibilities could have felt. Opinions might have differed
+in respect to her beauty; but there could be none on the score of her
+virtues and her amiability, and almost as few on the possessions of her
+mind. Julia Clifford, though singularly unobtrusive in society, very
+soon convinced all around her that she had an excellent understanding,
+which study had improved, and grace had adorned by all the most
+appropriate modes of cultivation. Her steps were always followed by a
+crowd--her seat invariably encircled by a group to itself. I looked on
+at a distance, wrapped up in the impenetrable folds of a pride, whose
+sleeves were momently plucked, as I watched, by the nervous fingers of
+jealousy and suspicion. Sometimes I caught a timid glance of her eye,
+addressed to the spot where I stood, full of inquiry, and, as I could
+not but believe, of apprehension;--and yet, at such moments; I turned
+perversely from the spot, nor suffered myself to steal another look at
+one, all of whose triumphs seemed made at my expense.
+
+On one of these occasions we met--our eyes and hands, accidentally; and,
+though I, myself, could not help starting back with a cold chill at
+my heart, I yet fancied there was something monstrous insulting in the
+evident recoil of her person from the contact with mine, at the
+same moment. I was about to turn hurriedly away with a slight bow of
+acknowledgment, when the touching tenderness of her glance, so full of
+sweetness and sadness, made me shrink with shame from such a rudeness.
+Besides, she was so pale, so thin, and really looked so unwell, that my
+conscience, in spite of that blind heart whose perversity would still
+have kept me to my first intention, rebuked me, and drove me to my duty.
+I approached--I spoke to her--and my words, though few, under the better
+impulses of the moment, were gentle and solicitous, as they should have
+been. My tones, too, were softened:--wilfully as I still felt, I could
+not forbear the exercise of that better ministry of the affections
+which was disposed to make amends for previous misconduct. I do not know
+exactly what I said--I probably did nothing more than utter the ordinary
+phrases of social compliment;--but everything was obliterated from my
+mind in an instant, by the startling directness of what was said by
+her. Looking at me with a degree of intentness by which, alone, she
+was, perhaps, able to preserve her seeming calmness, she replied by an
+inquiry as remote from what my observation called for as possible, yet
+how applicable to me and my conduct!
+
+“Why do you treat me thus, Edward? Why do you neglect me as you do--as
+if I were a stranger, or, at least, not a friend? What have I done to
+merit this usage from one who---”
+
+She did not finish the sentence, but her reproachful eyes, full of a
+dewy suffusion that seemed very much like tears, appeared to conclude it
+thus--
+
+“One who--used to love me!”
+
+So different was this speech from any that I looked for--so different
+from what the usage of our conventional world would have seemed to
+justify--so strange for one so timid, so silent usually on the subject
+of her own griefs, as Julia Clifford--that I was absolutely confounded.
+Where had she got this courage? By what strong feeling had it been
+stimulated? Had I been at that time as well acquainted with the sex as
+I have grown since, I must have seen that nothing but a deep interest in
+my conduct and regard, could possibly have prompted the spirit of one so
+gentle and shrinking, to the utterance of so searching an appeal. And
+in what way could I answer it? How could I excuse myself? What say, to
+justify that cold, rude indifference to a relative, and one who had ever
+been gentle and kind and true to me. I had really nothing to complain
+of. The vexing jealousies of my own suspicious heart had alone
+informed it to its perversion; and there I stood--dumb, confused,
+stupid-speaking, when I did speak, some incoherent, meaningless
+sentences, which could no more have been understood by her than they can
+now be remembered by me. I recovered myself, however, sufficiently soon
+to say, before we were separated by the movements of the crowd:--
+
+“I will come to you to-morrow, Julia. Will you suffer me to see you in
+the morning, say at twelve?”
+
+“Yes, come!” was all her answer; and the next moment the harsh accents
+of her ever-watchful mother warned us to risk no more.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+DENIAL AND DEFEAT.
+
+
+My sleep that night was anything but satisfactory. I had feverish
+dreams, unquiet slumbers, and woke at morning with an excruciating
+headache. I was in no mood for an explanation such as my promise
+necessarily implied, but I prepared my toilet with particular
+care--spent two hours at my office in a vain endeavor to divert myself,
+by a resort to business, from the conflicting and annoying sensations
+which afflicted me, and then proceeded to the dwelling of my uncle.
+
+I was fortunate in seeing Julia without the presence of her mother. That
+good lady had become too fashionable to suffer herself to be seen at so
+early an hour. Her vanity, in this respect, baffled her vigilance, for
+she had her own apprehensions on the score of my influence upon her
+daughter. Julia was scarcely so composed in the morning as she had
+appeared on the preceding night. I was now fully conscious of a flutter
+in her manner, a flush upon her face, an ill-suppressed apprehension in
+her eyes, which betokened strong emotions actively at work. But my own
+agitation did not suffer me to know the full extent of hers. For the
+first time, on her appearance, did I ask myself the question--“For what
+did I seek this interview?” What had I to say--what near? How explain my
+conduct--my coldness? On what imaginary and unsubstantial premises base
+the neglect in my deportment, amounting to rudeness, of which she had
+sufficient reason and a just right to complain? When I came to review
+my causes of vexation, how trivial did they seem. The reserve which had
+irritated me, on her part, now that I analyzed its sources, seemed a
+very natural reserve, such as was only maidenly and becoming. I now
+recollected that she was no longer a child--no longer the lively little
+fairy whom I could dandle on my knee and fling upon my shoulder,
+without a scruple or complaint. I stood like a trembling culprit in
+her presence. I was eloquent only through the force of a stricken
+conscience.
+
+“Julia!” I exclaimed when we met, “I have come to make atonement. I feel
+how rude I have been, but that was only because I was very wretched.”
+
+“Wretched, Edward!” she exclaimed with some surprise. “What should make
+you wretched?”
+
+“You--you have made me wretched.”
+
+“Me!” Her surprise naturally increased
+
+“Yes, you, dear Julia, and you only.”
+
+I took her hand in mine. Mine was burning--hers was colder than the
+icicles. Need I say more to those who comprehend the mysteries of
+the youthful heart. Need I say that the tongue once loosed, and the
+declaration of the soul must follow in a rush from the lips. I told her
+how much I loved her;--how unhappy it made me to think that others
+might bear away the prize; that, in this way, my rudeness arose from my
+wretchedness, and my wretchedness only from my love. I did not speak in
+vain. She confessed an equal feeling, and we were suffered a brief hour
+of unmitigated happiness together.
+
+Surely there is no joy like that which the heart feels in the first
+moment when it gives utterance to its own, and hears the avowed passion
+of the desired object:--a pure flame, the child of sentiment, just
+blushing with the hues of passion, just budding with the breath and
+bloom of life. No sin has touched the sentiment;--no gross smokes have
+risen to involve and obscure the flame; the altar is tended by pure
+hands; white spirits; and there is no reptile beneath the fresh
+blossoming flowers which are laid thereon. The grosser passions sleep,
+like the fumes at the shrine of Apollo, beneath the spell of that
+master passion in whose presence they can only maintain a subordinate
+existence. I loved; I had told my love;--and I was loved in return. I
+trembled with the deep intoxication of that bewildering moment; and how
+I found my way back to my office--whom I saw on the way, or to whom I
+spoke, I know not. I loved;--I was beloved. He only can conceive the
+delirium of this sweet knowledge who has passed a life like mine--who
+has felt the frowns and the scorn, and the contempt of those who should
+have nurtured him with smiles--whose soul, ardent and sensitive, has
+been made to recoil cheerlessly back on itself--denied the sunshine of
+the affections, and almost forbade to hope. Suddenly, when I believed
+myself most destitute, I had awakened to fortune--to the realization
+of desires which were beyond my fondest dreams. I, whom no affection
+hitherto had blessed, had, in a moment, acquired that which seemed to
+me to comprise all others, and for which all others might have been
+profitably thrown away.
+
+I fancied now that henceforth my sky was to be without a cloud. I did
+not--nor did Julia imagine for a moment that any opposition to our love
+could arise from her parents. What reason now could they have to oppose
+it? There was no inequality in our social positions. My blood had taken
+its rise from the same fountains with her own. In the world's estimation
+my rank was quite as respectable as that of any in my uncle's circle,
+and, for my condition, my resources, though small, were improving daily,
+and I had already attained such a place among my professional brethren,
+as to leave it no longer doubtful that it must continue to improve.
+My income, with economy--such economy as two simple, single-minded
+creatures, like Julia and myself, were willing to employ--would already
+yield us a decent support. In short, the idea of my uncle's opposition
+to the match never once entered my head. Yet he did oppose it. I was
+confounded with his blunt, and almost rugged refusal.
+
+“Why, sir, what are your objections?”
+
+He answered with sufficient coolness.
+
+“I am sorry to refuse you, Edward, but I have already formed other
+arrangements for my daughter. I have designed her for another.”
+
+“Indeed, sir--may I ask with whom?”
+
+“Young Roberts--his father and myself have had the matter for some time
+in deliberation. But do not speak of it, Edward--my confidence in you,
+alone, induces me to state this fact.”
+
+“I am very much obliged to you, sir;--but you do not surely mean to
+force young Roberts upon Julia, if she is unwilling?”
+
+“Ah, she will not be unwilling. She's a dutiful child, who will readily
+recognise the desires of her parents as the truest wisdom.”
+
+“But, Mr. Clifford--you forget that Julia has already admitted to me a
+preference--”
+
+“So you tell me, Edward, and it is with regret that I feel myself
+compelled to say that I wholly disapprove of your seeking my daughter's
+consent, before you first thought proper to obtain mine. This seems to
+me very muck like an abuse of confidence.”
+
+“Really, sir, you surprise me more than ever. Now that you force me to
+speak, let me say that, regarding myself as of blood scarcely inferior
+to that of my cousin, I can not see how the privilege of which I availed
+myself in proposing for her hand, can be construed into a breach of
+confidence. I trust, sir, that you have not contemplated your brother's
+son in any degrading or unbecoming attitude.”
+
+“No, no, surely not, Edward; but mere equality of birth does not
+constitute a just claim, by itself, to the affections of a lady.”
+
+“I trust the equality of birth, sir, is not impaired on my part by
+misconduct--by a want of industry, capacity--by inequalities in other
+respects--”
+
+“And talents!”
+
+He finished the sentence with the ancient sneer. But I was now a man--a
+strong one, and, at this moment particularly a stern one.
+
+“Stop, sir,” I retorted; “there must be an end to this. Whether you
+accede to my application or not, sir, there is nothing to justify you
+in an attempt to goad and mortify my feelings. I have proffered to you
+a respectful application for the hand of of your daughter, and though I
+were poorer, and humbler, and less worthy in all respects than I am, I
+should still be entitled to respectful treatment. At another time, with
+my sensibilities less deeply interested than they are, I should probably
+submit, as I have already frequently submitted, to the unkind and
+ungenerous sarcasms in which you have permitted yourself to indulge at
+my expense. But my regard for your daughter alone would prompt me to
+resent and repel them now. The object of my interview with you is quite
+too sacred--too solemnly invested--to suffer me to stand silently under
+the scornful usage even of her father.”
+
+All this may have been deserved by Mr. Clifford, but it was scarcely
+discreet in me. It gave him the opportunity which, I do not doubt, he
+desired--the occasion which he had in view. It afforded him an excuse
+for anger, for a regular outbreak between us, which, in some sort,
+yielded him that justification for his refusal, without which he would
+have found it a very difficult matter to account for or excuse. We
+parted in mutual anger, the effect of which was to close his doors
+against me, and exclude me from all opportunities of interview with
+Julia, unless by stealth. Even then, these opportunities were secured
+by my artifice, without her privity. As dutiful as fond, she urged
+me against them; and, resolute to “honor her father and mother” in
+obedience to those holy laws without a compliance with which there is
+little hope and no happiness, she informed me with many tears that
+she was now forbidden to see me, and would therefore avoid every
+premeditated arrangement for our meeting. I did not do justice to her
+character, but reproached her with coldness--with a want of affection,
+sensibility, and feeling.
+
+“Do not say so, Edward--do not--do not! I cold--I insensible--I wanting
+in affection for you! How, how can you think so?” And she threw herself
+on my bosom and sobbed until I began to fancy that convulsions would
+follow.
+
+We separated, finally, with assurances of mutual fidelity--assurances
+which, I knew, from the exclusiveness of all my feelings, my
+concentrative singleness of character, and entire dependence upon the
+beloved object of those affections which were now the sole solace of
+my heart, would not be difficult for me to keep. But I doubted HER
+strength--HER resolution--against the pressing solicitations of parents
+whom she had never been accustomed to withstand. But she quieted me
+with that singular earnestness of look and manner which had once before
+impressed me previous to our mutual explanation. Like vulgar thinkers
+generally, I was apt to confound weakness of frame and delicacy of
+organization with a want of courage and moral resources of strength and
+consolation.
+
+“Fear nothing for my truth, Edward. Though, in obedience to my parents,
+I shall not marry against their will, be sure I shall never marry
+against my own.”
+
+“Ah, Julia, you think so, but--”
+
+“I know so, Edward. Believe nothing that you hear against me or of
+me, which is unfavorable to my fidelity, until you hear it from my own
+lips.”
+
+“But you will meet me again--soon?”
+
+“No, no, do not ask it, Edward. We must not meet in this manner. It is
+not right. It is criminal.”
+
+I had soon another proof of the decisive manner in which my uncle seemed
+disposed to carry on the war between us. Erring, like the greater
+number of our young men, in their ambitious desire to enter public
+life prematurely, I was easily persuaded to become a candidate for the
+general assembly. I was now just twenty-five--at a time when young
+men are not yet released from the bias of early associations, and the
+unavoidable influence of guides, who are generally blind guides. Until
+thirty, there are few men who think independently; and, until this habit
+is acquired--which, in too many cases, never is acquired--the individual
+is sadly out of place in the halls of legislation. It is this premature
+disposition to enter into public life, which is the sole origin of
+the numberless mistakes and miserable inconsistencies into which our
+statesmen fall; which cling to their progress for ever after, preventing
+their performances, and baffling them in all their hopes to secure the
+confidence of the people. They are broken-down political hacks in the
+prime of life, and just at the time when they should be first entering
+upon the duties of the public man. Seduced, like the rest, as well by my
+own vanity as the suggestions of favoring friends, I permitted my
+name to be announced, and engaged actively in the canvass. Perhaps the
+feverish state of my mind, in consequence of my relations with Julia
+Clifford and her parents, made me more willing to adopt a measure,
+about which, at any other time, I should have been singularly slow and
+cautious. As a man of proud, reserved, and suspicious temper, I had
+little or no confidence in my own strength with the people; and defeat
+would be more mortifying than success grateful to a person of my
+pride. I fancied, however, that popular life would somewhat subdue
+the consuming passions which were rioting within my bosom; and I threw
+myself into the thick of the struggle with all the ardor of a sanguine
+temperament.
+
+To my surprise and increased vexation, I found my worthy uncle striving
+in every possible way, without actually declaring his purpose, in
+opposing my efforts and prospects. It is true he did not utter my name;
+but he had formed a complete ticket, in which my name was not; and
+he was toiling with all the industry of a thoroughgoing partisan in
+promoting its success. The cup which he had commended to my lips was
+overrunning with the gall of bitterness. Hostility to me seemed really
+to have been a sort of monomania with him from the first. How else was
+this canton procedure to be accounted for? how, even with this belief,
+could it be excused? His conduct was certainly one of those mysteries of
+idiosyncracy upon which the moral philosopher may speculate to doomsday
+without being a jot the wiser.
+
+If his desire was to baffle me, he was successful. I was defeated, after
+a close struggle, by a meagre majority of seven votes in some seventeen
+hundred; and the night after the election was declared, he gave a ball
+in honor of the successful candidates, in which his house was filled to
+overflowing. I passed the dwelling about midnight. Music rang from the
+illuminated parlor. The merry dance proceeded. All was life, gayety, and
+rich profusion. And Julia! even then she might have been whirling in
+the capricious movements of the dance with my happy rival--she as
+happy--unconscious of him who glided like some angry spectre beneath her
+windows, and almost within hearing of her thoughtless voice.
+
+Such were my gloomy thoughts--such the dark and dismal subjects of my
+lonely meditations. I did the poor girl wrong. That night she neither
+sung nor danced; and when I saw her again, I was shocked at the visible
+alteration for the worse which her appearance exhibited She was now
+grown thin, almost to meagreness; her cheeks were very wan, her lips
+whitened, and her beauty greatly faded in consequence of her suffering
+health.
+
+Yet, will it be believed that, in that interview, though such was her
+obvious condition, my perverse spirit found the language of complaint
+and suspicion more easy than that of devotion and tenderness. I know
+that it would be easy, and feel that it would be natural, to account for
+and to excuse this brutality, by a reference to those provocations which
+I had received from her father. A warm temper, ardent and glowing, it is
+very safe to imagine, must reasonably become soured and perverse by bad
+treatment and continual injury. But this for me was no excuse. Julia
+was a victim also of the same treatment, and in far greater degree than
+myself, as she was far less able to endure it. Mine, however, was the
+perverseness of impetuous blood--unrestrained, unchecked--having a
+fearful will, an impetuous energy, and, gradually, with success and
+power, swelling to the assertion of its own unqualified dominion--the
+despotism of the blind heart.
+
+Julia bore my reproaches until I was ashamed of them. Her submission
+stung me, and I loved then too ardently not to arrive in time at
+justice, and to make atonement. Would I had made it sooner! When I had
+finished all my reproaches and complainings, she answered all by telling
+me that the affair with young Roberts had been just closed, and she
+hoped finally, by her unqualified rejection of his suit, even though
+backed by all her father's solicitations, complaints, nay, threats and
+anger. How ungenerous and unmanly, after this statement had been made,
+appeared all the bitter eludings in which I had indulged! I need not say
+what efforts I made to atone for my precipitation and injustice; and
+how easily I found forgiveness from one who knew not how to harbor
+unkindness--and if she even had the feeling in her bosom, entertained it
+as one entertains his deadliest foe, and expelled it as soon as its real
+character was discovered.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+TEMPTATION.
+
+
+Thus stood the affair between my fair cousin and myself--a condition of
+things seriously and equally affecting her health and my temper--when
+an explosion took place, of a nature calculated to humble my uncle and
+myself, if not in equal degree, or to the same attitude, at least to a
+most mortifying extent in both cases. I have not stated before--indeed,
+it was not until the affair which I am now about to relate had actually
+exploded, that I was made acquainted with any of the facts which
+produced it--that, prior to my father's death, there had been some large
+business connections between himself and my uncle. In those days secret
+connections in business, however dangerous they might be in social,
+and more than equivocal in moral respects, were considered among the
+legitimate practices of tradesmen. What was the particular sort of
+relations existing between my father and uncle, I am not now prepared to
+state, nor is it absolutely necessary to my narrative. It is enough for
+me to say that an exposure of them took place, in part, in consequence
+of some discovering made by my father's unsatisfied creditors, by which
+the obscure transactions of thirty years were brought to light, or
+required to be brought to light; and in the development of which, the
+fair business fame of my uncle was likely to be involved in a very
+serious degree--not to speak of the inevitable effects upon his
+resources of a discovery and proof of fraudulent concealment. The
+reputation of my father must have suffered seriously, had it not been
+generally known that he left nothing--a fact beyond dispute from the
+history of my own career, in which neither goods nor chattels, lands nor
+money, were suffered to enure to my advantage.
+
+The business was brought to me. The merchant who brought it, and who
+had been busy for some years in tracing out the testimony, so far as it
+could be procured, gave me to understand that he had determined to place
+it in my hands for two reasons: firstly, to enable me to release
+the memory of my father from the imputation--under any circumstances
+discreditable--of bankruptcy, by compelling my uncle to disgorge the
+sums which he had appropriated, and which, as was alleged, would satisfy
+all my father's creditors; and, secondly, to give me an opportunity of
+revenging my own wrongs upon one, of whose course of conduct toward me
+the populace had already seen enough, during the last election, to have
+a tolerably correct idea.
+
+I examined the papers, thanked my client for his friendly intentions,
+but declined taking charge of the case for two other reasons. My
+relations to the dead and to the living were either of them sufficient
+reasons for this determination. I communicated the grounds of action,
+in a respectful letter, to my uncle, and soon discovered, by the alarm
+which he displayed in consequence, that the cause of the complaint was
+in all probability good. The case belonged to the equity jurisdiction,
+and the relator soon filed his bill.
+
+My uncle's tribulation may be conjectured from the fact that he called
+upon me, and seemed anxious enough to bury the hatchet. He wished me to
+take part in the proceedings--insisted, somewhat earnestly, and strove
+very hard to impress me with the conviction that my father's memory
+demanded that I should devote myself to the task of meeting and
+confounding the creditor who thus, as it were, had set to work to rake
+up the ashes of the dead; but I answered all this very briefly and very
+dryly:--
+
+“If my father has participated in this fraud, he has reaped none of its
+pleasant fruits. He lived poor, and died poor. The public know that;
+and it will be difficult to persuade them, with a due knowledge of
+these facts, that he deliberately perpetrated such unprofitable villany.
+Besides, sir, you do not seem to remember that, if the claim of Banks,
+Tressell, & Sons, is good, it relieves my father's memory of the only
+imputation that now lies against it--that of being a bankrupt.”
+
+“Ay!” he cried hoarsely, “but it makes me one--me, your uncle.”
+
+“And what reason, sir, have I to remember or to heed this relationship?”
+ I demanded sternly, with a glance beneath which he quailed.
+
+“True, true, Edward, your reproach is a just one. I have not been
+the friend I should have been; but--let us be friends, now, and
+hereafter--we must be friends. Mrs. Clifford is very anxious that it
+should be so--and--and--Edward,” solemnly, “you must help me out of this
+business. You must, by Heaven, you must--if you would not have me blow
+my brains out!”
+
+The man was giving true utterance to his misery--the fruit of those
+pregnant fears which filled his mind.
+
+“I would do for you, sir, whatever is proper for me to do, but can not
+meddle in this unless you are prepared to make restitution, which I
+should judge to be your best course.”
+
+“How can you advise me to beggar my child? This claim, if recognised,
+will sweep everything. The interest alone is a fortune. I can not think
+of allowing it. I would rather die!”
+
+“This is mere madness, Mr. Clifford; your death would not lessen the
+difficulty. Hear me, sir, and face the matter manfully. You must do
+justice. If what I understand be true, you have most unfortunately
+suffered yourself to be blinded to the dishonor of the act which you
+have committed; you have appropriated wealth which did not belong to
+you, and, in thus doing, you have subjected the memory of my father to
+the reproach of injustice which he did not deserve. I will not add the
+reproach which I might with justice add, that, in thus wronging the
+father's memory, and making it cover your own improper gains, you have
+suffered his son to want those necessaries of education and sustenance,
+which--”
+
+“Say no more, Edward, and it shall all be amended. Listen to me now; but
+stay--close that door for a moment--there!--Now, look you.”
+
+And, having taken these precautionary steps, the infatuated man
+proceeded to admit the dishonest practices of which he had been guilty.
+His object in making the confession, however, was not that he might make
+reparation. Far from it. It was rather to save from the clutch of his
+creditors, from the grasp of justice, his ill-gotten possessions. I have
+no patience in revealing the schemes by which this was to be effected;
+but, as a preliminary, I was to be made the proprietor of one half of
+the sum in question, and the possessor of his daughter's hand; in return
+for which I was simply to share with him in the performance of certain
+secret acts, which, without rendering his virtue any more conspicuous,
+would have most effectually eradicated all of mine.
+
+“I have listened to you, Mr. Clifford, and with great difficulty. I now
+distinctly decline your proposals. Not even the bribe, so precious in my
+sight, as that which you have tendered in the person of your daughter,
+has power to tempt me into hesitation. I will have nothing to do with
+you in this matter. Restore the property to your creditors.”
+
+“But, Edward, you have not heard;--your share alone will be twenty odd
+thousand dollars, without naming the interest!”
+
+“Mr. Clifford, I am sorry for you. Doubly sorry that you persist in
+seeing this thing in an improper light. Even were I disposed to
+second your designs, it is scarcely possible, sir, that you could be
+extricated. The discovery of those papers, and the extreme probability
+that Hansford, the partner of the English firm of Davis, Pierce, &
+Hansford, is surviving, and can be found, makes the probabilities
+strongly against you. My advice to you, is, that you make a merit of
+necessity;--that you endeavor to effect a compromise before the affair
+has gone too far. The creditors will make some concessions sooner than
+trust the uncertainties of a legal investigation, and whether you lose
+or gain, a legal investigation is what you should particularly desire to
+avoid. If you will adopt this counsel, I will act for you with Banks &
+Tressel: and if you will give me carte blanche, I think I can persuade
+them to a private arrangement by which they will receive the principal
+in liquidation of all demands. This may be considered a very fair basis
+for an arrangement, since the results of the speculation could only
+accrue from the business capacities of the speculator, and did not
+belong to a fund which the proprietor had resolved not to appropriate,
+and which must therefore, have been entirely unproductive. I do not
+promise you that they will accept, but it is not improbable. They are
+men of business--they need, at this moment, particularly, an active
+capital; and have had too much knowledge of the doubts and delays
+attending a prolonged suit in equity, not to listen to a proposition
+which yields them the entire principal of their claim.”
+
+I need not repeat the arguments and entreaties by which I succeeded
+in persuading my uncle to accede to the only arrangement which could
+possibly have rescued him from the public exposure which was impending;
+but he did consent, and, armed with his credentials, I proceeded to the
+office of Banks & Tressell, without loss of time.
+
+Though resolved, if I could effect the matter, that my uncle should
+liquidate their claim to the uttermost farthing which they required, it
+was my duty to make the best bargain which I could, in reference to his
+unfortunate family. Accordingly, without suffering them to know that
+I had carte blanche, I simply communicated to them my wish to have the
+matter arranged without public investigation--that I was persuaded
+from a hasty review which I had given to the case, that there were good
+grounds for action;--but, at the same time, I dwelt upon the casualties
+of such a course--the possibility that the chief living witness--if he
+were living--might not be found, or might not survive long enough--as he
+was reputed to be very old--for the purposes of examination before the
+commission;--the long delays which belonged to a litigated suit, in
+which the details of a mixed foreign and domestic business of so many
+years was to be raked up, reviewed and explained; and the further
+chances, in the event of final success, of the property of the debtor
+being so covered, concealed, or made away with, as to baffle at last all
+the industry and labors of the creditor.
+
+The merchants were men of good sense, and estimated the proverb--“a bird
+in hand is worth two in the bush”--at its true value. It did not require
+much argument to persuade them to receive a sum of over forty thousand
+dollars, and give a full discharge to the defendant; and I flattered
+myself that the matter was all satisfactorily arranged, and had just
+taken a seat at my table to write to Mr. Clifford to this effect, when,
+to my horror, I receive a note from that gentleman, informing me of his
+resolve to join issue with the claimants, and “maintain his RIGHTS(?) to
+the last moment.” He thanked me, in very cold consequential style,
+for my “FRIENDLY efforts”--the words italicised, as I have now written
+it;--but conduced with informing me that he had taken the opinion of
+older counsel, which, though it might be less correct than mine, was,
+perhaps, more full of promise for his interests.
+
+This note justified me in calling upon the unfortunate gentleman. It is
+true I had not committed him to Banks & Tressell--the suggestions which
+I had made for the arrangement were all proposed as a something which I
+might be able to bring about in a future conference with him--but I was
+too anxious to save him from his lamentable folly--from that miserable
+love of money, which, overreaching itself in its blindness, as does
+every passion--was not only about to deliver him to shame but to
+destitution also.
+
+I found him in Mrs. Clifford's presence. That simple and silly woman
+had evidently been made privy to the whole transaction, so far as my
+arguments had been connected with it;--for ALL the truth is not often to
+be got out of the man who means or has perpetrated a dishonesty. She
+had been alarmed at the immense loss of money, and consequently of
+importance, with which the family was threatened; and without looking
+into, or being able to comprehend the facts as they stood, she had taken
+around against any measure which should involve such a sacrifice. Her
+influence over the weak man beside her, was never so clear to me as now;
+and in learning to despise his character more than ever, I discovered,
+at the same time, the true source of many of his errors and much of his
+misconduct. She did not often suffer him to reply for himself--yielded
+me the ultimatum from her own lips; and condescended to assure me that
+she could only ascribe the advice which I had given to her husband, to
+the hostile disposition which I had always entertained for herself and
+family. That I was “a wolf in sheep's clothing, SHE had long since been
+able to see, though all others unhappily seemed blind.”
+
+Here she scowled at her husband, who contented himself with walking to
+and fro, playing with his coatskirts, and feeling, no doubt, a portion
+of the shame which his miserable bondage to this silly woman necessarily
+incurred.
+
+“Mr. Clifford has got a lawyer who can do for him what it seems you can
+not,” was her additional observation. “He promises to get him to dry
+land, and save him without so much as wetting his shoes, though his
+own blood relations, who are thought so smart, can not, it appears, do
+anything.”
+
+Of course I could have nothing to say to the worthy lady, but my
+expostulations were freely urged to Mr. Clifford.
+
+“You, at least,” said I, “should know the risks which you incur by this
+obstinacy. Mrs. Clifford can not be expected to know; and I now warn
+you, sir, that the case of Banks & Tressell is a very strong one, very
+well arranged, and so admirably hung together, in its several links of
+testimony, that even the absence of old Hansford (the chief witness),
+should his answers never be obtained, would scarcely impair the
+integrity of the evidence. In a purely moral point of view, nothing can
+be more complete than it is now.”
+
+“Well, and who would it convict, Mr. Edward Clifford?” exclaimed the
+inveterate lady, anticipating her husband's answer with accustomed
+interference; “who would it convict, if not your own father? It was as
+much his business as my husband's; and if there's any shame, I'm sure
+his memory and his son will have to bear their share of it; and this
+makes it so much more wonderful to me that you should take sides against
+Mr. Clifford, instead of standing up in his defence.”
+
+“I would save him, madam, if you and he would let me,” I exclaimed
+with some indignation. “Your reference to my father's share in this
+transaction does not affect me, as it is very evident that you are not
+altogether acquainted with the true part which he had in it. He had all
+the risk, all the loss, all the blame--and your husband all the profit,
+all the importance. He lived poor, and died so; without a knowledge of
+those profitable results to his brother of which the latter has made his
+own avails by leaving my father's memory to aspersion which he did not
+deserve, and his son to destitution and reproach which he merited as
+little. My father's memory is liable to no reproach when every creditor
+knows that he died in a state of poverty, in which his only son has
+ever lived. Neither he nor I ever shared any of the pleasant fruits, for
+which we are yet to be made accountable.”
+
+“And whose fault was it that you didn't get your share I'm sure Mr.
+Clifford made you as handsome an offer yesterday as any man could
+desire. Didn't he offer you half? But I suppose nothing short of the
+whole would satisfy so ambitious a person.”
+
+“Neither the half nor the whole will serve me, madam, in such a
+business. My respect for your husband and his family would, of itself,
+have been sufficient to prevent my acceptance of his offer.”
+
+“But there was Julia, too, Edward!” said Mr. Clifford, approaching me
+with a most insinuating smile.
+
+“It is not yet too late,” said Mrs. Clifford, unbending a little. “Take
+the offer of Mr. Clifford, Edward, and be one of us; and then this ugly
+business--”
+
+“Yes, my dear Edward, even now, though I have spoken with young Perkins
+about the affair, and he tells me there's nothing so much to be afraid
+of, yet, for the look of the thing, I'd rather that you should be seen
+acting in the business. As it's so well known that your father had
+nothing, and you nothing, it'll then be easy for the people to believe
+that nothing was the gain of any of us; and--and--”
+
+“Young Perkins may think and say what he pleases, and you are yourself
+capable of judging how much respect you may pay to his opinion. Mine,
+however, remains unchanged. You will have to pay this money--nay, this
+necessity will not come alone. The development of all the particulars
+connected with the transaction will disgrace you for ever, and drive you
+from the community. Even were I to take part with you, I do not see that
+it would change the aspect of affairs. So far from your sharing with me
+the reputation of being profitless in the affair, the public would more
+naturally suspect that I had shared with you--now, if not before--and
+the whole amount involved would not seduce me to incur this imputation.”
+
+“But my daughter--Julia--”
+
+“Do not speak of her in this connection, I implore you, Mr. Clifford.
+Let her name remain pure, uncontaminated by any considerations, whether
+of mere gain or of the fraud which the gain is supposed to involve.
+Freely would I give the sum in question, were it mine, and all the
+wealth besides that I ever expect to acquire, to make Julia Clifford my
+wife;--but I can not suffer myself, in such a case as this, to accept
+her as a bribe, and to sanction crime. Nay, I am sure that she too would
+be the first to object.”
+
+“And so you really refuse? Well, the world's coming to a pretty pass.
+But I told Mr. Clifford, months ago, that you had quite forgot yourself,
+ever since you had grown so great with the Edgertons, and the Blakes,
+and Fortescues, and all them high-headed people. But I'm sure, Mr.
+Edward Clifford, my daughter needn't go a-begging to any man; and as for
+this business, whatever you may say against young Perkins, I'll take
+his opinion of the law against that of any other young lawyer in the
+country. He's as good as the best, I'm thinking.”
+
+“Your opinion is your own, Mrs. Clifford, but I beg to set you right on
+the subject of mine. I did not say anything against Mr. Perkins.”
+
+“Oh, I beg your pardon; I'm sure you did. You said he was nothing of a
+lawyer, and something more.”
+
+Was there ever a more perverse and evil and silly woman! I contented
+myself with assuring her that she was mistaken and had very much
+misunderstood me--took pains to repeat what I had really said, and then
+cut short an interview that had been painful and humbling to me on many
+grounds. I left the happy pair tête-à-tête, in their princely parlor
+together, little fancying that there was another argument which had been
+prepared to overthrow my feeble virtue. But all this had been arranged
+by the small cunning of this really witless couple. I was left to find
+my way down stairs as I might; and just when I was about to leave the
+dwelling--vexed to the heart at the desperate stolidity of the miserable
+man, whom avarice and weakness were about to expose to a loss which
+might be averted in part, and an exposure to infamy which might wholly
+be avoided--I was encountered by the attenuated form and wan countenance
+of his suffering but still lovely daughter.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+LOVE FINDS NO SMOOTH WATER IN THE SEA OF LAW
+
+
+“Julia!” I exclaimed, with a start which betrayed, I am sure, quite
+as much surprise as pleasure. My mood was singularly inflexible. My
+character was not easily shaken, and, once wrought upon by any leading
+influence, my mind preserved the tone which it acquired beneath it, long
+after the cause of provocation had been withdrawn. This earnestness of
+character--amounting to intensity--gave me an habitual sternness of
+look and expression, and I found it hard to acquire, of a sudden,
+that command of muscle which would permit me to mould the stubborn
+lineaments, at pleasure, to suit the moment. Not even where my heart was
+most deeply interested--thus aroused--could I look the feelings of the
+lover, which, nevertheless, were most truly the predominant ones within
+my bosom.
+
+“Julia,” I exclaimed, “I did not think to see you.”
+
+“Ah, Edward, did you wish it?” she replied in very mournful accents,
+gently reproachful, as she suffered me to take her hand in mine, and
+lead her back to the parlor in the basement story. I seated her upon the
+sofa, and took a place at her side.
+
+“Why should I not wish to see you, Julia? What should lead you to fancy
+now that I could wish otherwise?”
+
+“Alas!” she replied, “I know not what to think--I scarcely know what
+I say. I am very miserable. What is this they tell me? Can it be true,
+Edward, that you are acting against my father--that you are trying to
+bring him to shame and poverty?”
+
+I released her hand. I fixed my eyes keenly upon hers.
+
+“Julia, you have your instructions what to say. You are sent here for
+this. They have set you in waiting to meet me here, and speak things
+which you do not understand, and assert things which I know you can not
+believe.”
+
+“Edward, I believe YOU!” she exclaimed with emphasis, but with downcast
+eyes; “but it does not matter whether I was sent here, or sought you of
+my own free will. They tell me other things--there is more--but I have
+not the heart to say it, and it needs not much.”
+
+“If you believe me, Julia, it certainly does not need that you should
+repeat to me what is said of me by enemies, equally unjust to me, and
+hostile to themselves. Yet I can readily conjecture some things which
+they have told you. Did they not tell you that your hand had been
+proffered me, and that I had refused it?”
+
+She hung her head in silence.
+
+“You do not answer.”
+
+“Spare me; ask me not.”
+
+“Nay, tell me, Julia, that I may see how far you hold me worthy of your
+love, your confidence. Speak to me--have they not told you some such
+story?”
+
+“Something of this; but I did not heed it, Edward.”
+
+“Julia--nay!--did you not?”
+
+“And if I did, Edward--”
+
+“It surely was not to believe it?”
+
+“No! no! no! I had no fears of you--have none, dear Edward! I knew that
+it was not, could not be true.”
+
+“Julia, it was true!”
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“True, indeed! There was more truth in THAT than in any other part of
+the story. Nay, more--had they told you all the truth, dearest Julia,
+that part, strange as it may appear, would have given you less pain than
+pleasure.”
+
+“How! Can it be so?”
+
+“Your hand was proffered me by your father, and I refused it. Nay, look
+not from me, dearest--fear not for my affection--fear nothing. I should
+have no fear that you could suppose me false to you, though the whole
+world should come and tell you so. True love is always secured by a
+just confidence in the beloved object; and, without this confidence,
+the whole life is a series of long doubts, struggles, griefs, and
+apprehensions, which break down the strength, and lay the spirit in the
+dust. I will now tell you, in few words, what is the relation in which
+I stand to your father and his family. He, many years ago, committed an
+error in business, which the laws distinguish by a harsher name. By
+this error he became rich. Until recently, the proofs of this error were
+unknown. They have lately been discovered by certain claimants, who are
+demanding reparation. In the difficulty of your father, he came to me.
+I examined the business, and have given it as my opinion that he should
+stifle the legal process by endeavoring to make a private arrangement
+with the creditors.”
+
+“Could he do this?”
+
+“He could. The creditors were willing, and at first he consented that I
+should arrange it with them. He now rejects the arrangement.”
+
+“But why?”
+
+“Because it involves the surrender of the entire amount of property
+which they claim--a sum of forty thousand dollars.”
+
+“But, dear Edward, is it due?--does my father owe this money? If he
+does, surely he can not refuse. Perhaps he thinks that he owes nothing.”
+
+“Nay, Julia, unhappily he knows it, and the offer of your hand, and half
+of the sum mentioned, was made to me, on the express condition that I
+should exert my influence as a man, and my ingenuity as a lawyer, in
+baffling the creditors and stifling the claim.”
+
+The poor girl was silent and hung her head, her eyes fixed upon the
+carpet, and the big tears slowly gathering, dropping from them, one,
+by one. Meanwhile, I explained, as tenderly as I could, the evil
+consequences which threatened Mr. Clifford in consequence of his
+contumacy.
+
+“Alas” she exclaimed, “it is not his fault. He would be willing--I
+heard him say as much last night--but mother--she will not consent. She
+refused positively the moment father said it would be necessary to sell
+out, and move to a cheaper house. Oh, Edward, is there no way that
+you can save us? Save my father from shame, though he gives up all the
+money.”
+
+“Would I not do this, Julia? Nay, were I owner of the necessary amount
+myself, believe me, it should not be withheld.”
+
+“I do believe you, Edward; but”--and here her voice sunk to a
+whisper--“you must try again, try again and again--for I think that
+father knows the danger, though mother does not; and I think--I hope--he
+will be firm enough, when you press him, and warn him of the danger, to
+do as you wish him.”
+
+“I am afraid not, Julia. Your mother--”
+
+“Do not fear; hope--hope all, dear Edward; for, to confess to you, I
+KNOW that they are anxious to have your support--they said as much. Nay,
+why should I hide anything from you? They sent me here to see--to speak
+with you, and--”
+
+“To see what your charms could do to persuade me to be a villain. Julia!
+Julia! did you think to do this--to have me be the thing which they
+would make me?”
+
+“No! no!--Heaven forbid, dear Edward, that you should fancy that any
+such desire had a place, even for a moment, in my mind. No! I knew not
+that the case involved any but mere money considerations. I knew not
+that--”
+
+“Enough! Say no more, Julia! I do not think that you would counsel me to
+my own shame.”
+
+“No! no! You do me only justice. But, Edward, you will save my father!
+You will try--you will see him again--”
+
+“What! to suffer again the open scorn, the declared doubts of my
+friendship and integrity, which is the constant language of your mother?
+Can it be that you would desire that I should do this--nay, seek it?”
+
+“For my poor father's sake!” she cried, gaspingly.
+
+But I shook my head sternly.
+
+“For mine, then--for mine! for mine!”
+
+She threw herself into my arms, and clung to me until I promised all
+that she required. And as I promised her, so I strove with her father.
+I used every argument, resorted to every mode of persuasion, but all was
+of no avail. Mr. Clifford was under the rigid, the iron government
+of his fate! His wife was one of those miserably silly women--born,
+according to Iago--
+
+     “To suckle fools and chronicle small beer”--
+
+who, raised to the sudden control of unexpected wealth, becomes insane
+upon it, and is blind, deaf, and dumb, to all counsel or reason which
+suggests the possibility of its loss. From the very moment when Mr.
+Clifford spoke of selling out house, horses, and carriage, as the
+inevitable result which must follow his adoption of my recommendation,
+she declared herself against it at all hazards, particularly when
+her husband assured her that “the glorious uncertainties of the law”
+ afforded a possibility of his escape with less loss. The loss of money
+was, with her, the item of most consideration; her mind was totally
+insensible to that of reputation. She was willing to make this
+compromise with me, as a sort of alternative, for, in that case, there
+would be no diminution of attendance and expense--no loss of rank
+and equipage. We should all live together--how harmoniously, one may
+imagine--but the grandeur and the state would still be intact and
+unimpaired. Even for this, however, she was not prepared, when she
+discovered that there was no certainty that my alliance would bring
+immunity to her husband. How this notion got even partially into his
+head, I know not; unless in consequence of a growing imbecility of
+intellect, which in a short time after betrayed itself more strikingly.
+But of this in its own place.
+
+My attempts to convince my unfortunate uncle were all rendered
+unavailing, and shown to be so to Julia herself in a very short time
+afterward. The insolence of Mrs. Clifford, when I did seek an interview
+with her husband, was so offensive and unqualified, that Julia herself,
+with a degree of indignation which she could not entirely suppress,
+begged me to quit the house, and relieve myself from such undeserved
+insult and abuse. I did so, but with no unfriendly wishes for the
+wretched woman who presided over its destinies, and the no less wretched
+husband whom she helped to make so; and my place as consulting friend
+and counsellor was soon supplied by Mr. Perkins--one of those young
+barristers, to be found in every community, who regard the “penny fee”
+ as the sine qua non, and obey implicitly the injunction of the scoundrel
+in the play “Make money--honestly if you can, but--make money!” He was
+one of those creatures who set people at loggerheads, goad foolish and
+petulant clients into lawsuits, stir up commotions in little sets,
+and invariably comfort the suit-bringer with the most satisfactory
+assurances of success. It was the confident assurances of this person
+which had determined Mr. Clifford--his wife rather--to resist to the
+last the suit in question. Through the sheer force of impudence, this
+man had obtained a tolerable share of practice. His clients, as may be
+supposed, lay chiefly among such persons as, having no power or standard
+for judging, necessarily look upon him who is most bold and pushing as
+the most able and trustworthy. The bullies of the law--and, unhappily,
+the profession has quite too many--are very commanding persons among the
+multitude. Mr. Clifford knew this fellow's mental reputation very well,
+and was not deceived by the confidence of his assurances; nay, to the
+last, he showed a hankering desire to give me the entire control of the
+subject; but the hostility of Mrs. Clifford overruled his more prudent
+if not more honorable purposes; and, as he was compelled to seek a
+lawyer, the questionable moral standing of Perkins decided his choice.
+He wished one, in short, to do a certain piece of dirty work: and, as if
+in anticipation of the future, he dreaded to unfold the case to any of
+the veterans, the old-time gentlemen and worthies of the bar. I proposed
+this to him. I offered to make a supposititious relation of the facts
+for the opinion of Mr. Edgerton and others--nay, pledged myself to
+procure a confidential consultation--anything, sooner than that he
+should resort to a mode of extrication which, I assured him, would only
+the more deeply involve him in the meshes of disgrace and loss. But
+there was a fatality about this gentleman--a doom that would not be
+baffled, and could not be stayed. The wilful mind always precipitates
+itself down the abyss; and, whether acting by his own, or under the
+influence of another's judgment, such was, most certainly, the case with
+him. He was not to be saved. Mr. Perkins was regularly installed as
+his defender--his counsellor, private and public--and I was compelled,
+though with humiliating reluctance, to admit to the plaintiffs, Banks &
+Tressell, that there was no longer any hope of compromise. The issue
+on which hung equally his fortune and his reputation was insanely
+challenged by my uncle.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+DUELLO.
+
+
+But my share in the troubles of this affair was not to end, though I was
+no longer my uncle's counsellor. An event now took place which gave
+the proceedings a new and not less unpleasing aspect than they had
+worn before. Mrs. Clifford, it appears, in her communications to her
+husband's lawyer, did not confine herself to the mere business of
+the lawsuit. Her voluminous discourse involved her opinions of her
+neighbors, friends, and relatives; and, one day, a few weeks after, I
+was suddenly surprised by a visit from a gentleman--one of the members
+of the bar--who placed a letter in my hands from Mr. Perkins. I read
+this billet with no small astonishment. It briefly stated that certain
+reports had reached his ears, that I had expressed myself contemptuously
+of his abilities and character, and concluded with an explicit demand,
+not for an explanation, but an apology. My answer was immediate.
+
+“You will do me the favor to say, Mr. Carter, that Mr. Perkins has been
+misinformed. I never uttered anything in my life which could disparage
+either his moral or legal reputation.”
+
+“I am sorry to say, Mr. Clifford,” was the reply, “that denial is
+unnecessary, and can not be received. Mr. Perkins has his information
+from the lips of a lady; and, as a lady is not responsible, she can not
+be allowed to err. I am required, sir to insist on an apology. I have
+already framed it, and it only needs your signature.”
+
+He drew a short, folded letter, from his pocket, and placed it before
+me. There was so much cool impertinence in this proceeding, and in the
+fellow's manner, that I could with difficulty refrain from flinging the
+paper in his face. He was one of the little and vulgar clique of which
+Perkins was a sort of centre. The whole set were conscious enough of the
+low estimate which was put upon them by the gentlemen of the bar. Denied
+caste, they were disposed to force their way to recognition by the
+bully's process, and stung by some recent discouragements, Mr. Perkins
+was, perhaps, rather glad than otherwise, of the silly, and no less
+malicious than silly, tattle of Mrs. Clifford for I did not doubt that
+the gross perversion of the truth which formed the basis of his note,
+had originated with her, which enabled him to single out a victim, who,
+as the times went, had suddenly risen to a comparative elevation which
+is not often accorded to a young beginner. I readily conjectured his
+object from his character and that of the man he sent. My own nature was
+passionate; and the rude school through which my boyhood had gone,
+had made me as tenacious of my position as the grave. That I should be
+chafed by reptiles such as these, stung me to vexation; and though I
+kept from any violence of action, my words did not lack of it.
+
+“Mr. Perkins is, permit me to say, a very impertinent fellow; and, if
+you please, our conference will cease from this moment.”
+
+He was a little astounded--rose, and then recovering himself, proceeded
+to reply with the air of a veteran martinet.
+
+“I am glad, sir, that you give me an opportunity of proceeding with this
+business without delay. My friend, Mr. Perkins, prepared me for some
+such answer. Oblige me, sir, by reading this paper.” He handed me the
+challenge for which his preliminaries had prepared me.
+
+“Accepted, sir; I will send my friend to you in the course of the
+morning.”
+
+As I uttered this reply, I bowed and waved him to the door. He did not
+answer, other than by a bow, and took his departure. The promptness
+which I had shown impressed him with respect. Baffled, in his first
+spring, the bully, like the tiger, is very apt to slink back to his
+jungle. His departure gave me a brief opportunity for reflection, in
+which I slightly turned over in my mind the arguments for and against
+duelling. But these were now too late--even were they to decide me
+against the practice--to affect the present transaction; and I sallied
+out to seek a friend--a friend!
+
+Here was the first difficulty. I had precious little choice among
+friends. My temper was not one calculated to make or keep friends. My
+earnestness of character, and intensity of mood, made me dictatorial;
+and where self-esteem is a large and active development, as it must
+be in an old aristocratic community, such qualities are continually
+provoking popular hostility. My friends, too, were not of the kind to
+whom such scrapes as the present were congenial. I was unwilling to go
+to young Edgerton, as I did not wish to annoy his parents by my novel
+anxieties. But where else could I turn? To him I went. When he heard my
+story, he began by endeavoring to dissuade me from the meeting.
+
+“I am pledged to it, William,” was my only answer.
+
+“But, Edward, I am opposed to duelling myself, and should not promote or
+encourage, in another, a practice which I would not be willing myself to
+adopt.”
+
+“A good and sufficient reason, William. You certainly should not. I will
+go to Frank Kingsley.”
+
+“He will serve you, I know; but, Edward, this duelling is a bad
+business. It does no sort of good. Kill Perkins, and it does not prove
+to him, even if he were then able to hear, that Mrs. Clifford spoke
+a falsehood; and if he kills you, you are even still farther from
+convincing him.
+
+“I have no such desire, William; and your argument, by the way, is
+one of those beggings of the question which the opponents of duelling
+continually fall into when discussing the subject. The object of the
+man, who, in a case like mine, fights a duel, is not to prove his truth,
+but to protect himself from persecution. Perkins seeks to bully and
+drive me out of the community. Public opinion here approves of this mode
+of protecting one's self;--may, if I do not avail myself of its agency,
+the same public opinion would assist my assailant in my expulsion. I
+fight on the same ground that a nation fights when it goes to war. It is
+the most obvious and easy mode to protect myself from injury and insult.
+So long as I submit, Perkins will insult and bully, and the city will
+encourage him, If I resist, I silence this fellow, and perhaps protect
+other young beginners. I have not the most distant idea of convincing
+him of my truth by fighting him--may, the idea of giving him
+satisfaction is an idea that never entered my brain. I simply take a
+popular mode of securing myself from outrage and persecution.”
+
+“But, do you secure yourself? Has duelling this result?”
+
+“Not invariably, perhaps; simply because the condition of humanity does
+not recognise invariable results. If it is shown to be the probable, the
+frequent result, it is all that can be expected of any human agency or
+law.”
+
+“But, is it probable--frequent?”
+
+“Yes, almost certain, almost invariable. Look at the general manners,
+the deportment, the forbearance, of all communities where duelling is
+recognised as an agent of society. See the superior deference paid to
+females, the unfrequency of bullying, the absence of blackguarding, the
+higher tone of this public press, and of society in general, from which
+the public press takes its tone, and which it represents in our country,
+but does not often inform. Even seduction is a rare offence, and a
+matter of general exclamation, where this extra-judicial agent is
+recognised.”
+
+And so forth. It is not necessary to repeat our discussion on this vexed
+question, of its uses and abuses. I did not succeed in convincing him,
+and, under existing circumstances, it is not reasonable to imagine that
+his arguments had any influent over me. To Frank Kingsley I went, and
+found him in better mood to take up the cudgels, and even make my cause
+his own. He was one of those ardent bloods, who liked nothing better
+than the excitement of such an affair; whether as principal or
+assistant, it mattered little. To him I expressed my wish that his
+arrangements should bring the matter to an issue, if possible, within
+the next twenty-four hours.
+
+“Prime!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands. “That's what I like. If you
+shoot as quickly now, and as much to the point, you may count any button
+on Perkins's coat.”
+
+He proceeded to confer with the friend of my opponent, while, with a
+meditative mind, I went to my office, necessarily oppressed with the
+strange feelings belonging to my situation. In less than two hours after
+Kingsley brought me the carte, by which I found that the meeting was
+to take place two miles out of town, by sunrise the day after the one
+ensuing--the weapons, pistols--distance, as customary, ten paces!
+
+“You are a shot, of course?” said Kingsley.
+
+My answer, in the negative, astonished him.
+
+“Why, you will have little or no time for practice.”
+
+“I do not intend it. My object is not to kill this man; but to make him
+and all others see that the dread of what may be done, either by him or
+them, will never reconcile me to submit to injury or insult. I shall
+as effectually secure this object by going out, as I do, without
+preparation, as if I were the best shot in America. He does not know
+that I am not; and a pistol is always a source of danger when in the
+grasp of a determined man.”
+
+“You are a queer fellow in your notions, Clifford, and I can not say
+that I altogether understand you; but you must certainly ride out with
+me this afternoon, and bark a tree. It will do no hurt to a determined
+man to be a skilful one also.”
+
+“I see no use in it.”
+
+“Why--what if you should wish to wing him?”
+
+“I think I can do it without practice. But I have no such desire.”
+
+“Really you are unnecessarily magnanimous. You may be put to it,
+however. Should the first shot be ineffectual and he should demand a
+second, would you throw away that also?”
+
+“No! I should then try to shoot him. As my simple aim is to secure
+myself from persecution, which is usually the most effectual mode of
+destroying a young man in this country, I should resort only to such
+a course as would be likely to yield me this security. That failing,
+I should employ stronger measures; precisely as a nation would do in a
+similar conflict with another nation. One must not suffer himself to be
+destroyed or driven into exile. This is the first law of nature--this
+of self-preservation. In maintaining this law, a man must do any or all
+things which in his deliberate judgment, will be effectual for the end
+proposed. Were I fighting with savages, for example, and knew that they
+regarded their scalps with more reverence than their lives, I should
+certainly scalp as well as slay.”
+
+“They would call that barbarous?”
+
+“Ay, no doubt; particularly in those countries where they paid from five
+to fifty, and even one hundred pounds to one Indian for the scalp of
+his brother, until they rid themselves of both. But see you not that
+the scalping process, as it produces the most terror and annoyance,
+is decidedly the most merciful, as being most likely to discourage
+and deter from war. If the scalp could bo taken from the head of every
+Seminole shot down, be sure the survivors never after would have come
+within range of rifle-shot.”
+
+But these discussions gave way to the business before me. Kingsley left
+me to myself, and though sad and serious with oppressive thoughts, I
+still had enough of the old habits, dominant with me, to go to my daily
+concerns, and arrange my papers with considerable industry and customary
+method. My professional business was set in order, and Edgerton duly
+initiated in the knowledge of all such portions as needed explanation.
+This done, I sat down and wrote a long farewell letter to Julia, and
+one, more brief, but renewing the counsel I had previously given to
+her father, in respect to the suit against him. These letters were so
+disposed as to be sent in the event of my falling in the fight. The
+interval which followed was not so easy to be borne. Conscience and
+reflection were equally busy, and unpleasantly so. I longed for the time
+of action which should silence these unpleasant monitors.
+
+The brief space of twenty-four hours was soon overpassed, and my
+anxieties ceased as the moment for the meeting with my enemy, drew nigh.
+My friend called at my lodgings a good hour before daylight--it was a
+point of credit with him that we should not delay the opposite party
+the sixtieth part of a second. We drove out into the country in a close
+carriage, taking a surgeon--who was a friend of Kingsley--along with
+us. We were on the ground in due season, and some little time before
+our customers. But they did not fail or delay us. They were there with
+sufficient promptitude.
+
+Perkins was a man of coolness and courage. He took his position with
+admirable nonchalance; but I observed, when his eyes met mine, that they
+were darkened with a scowl of anger. His brows were contracted, and
+his face which was ordinarily red, had an increased flush upon it which
+betrayed unusual excitement. He evidently regarded me with feelings of
+bitter animosity. Perhaps this was natural enough, if he believed
+the story of Mrs. Clifford--and my scornful answer to his friend, Mr.
+Carter, was not calculated to lessen the soreness. For my part, I am
+free to declare, I had not the smallest sentiment of unkindness toward
+the fellow. I thought little of him, but did not hate--I could not have
+hated him. I had no wish to do him hurt; and, as already stated, only
+went out to put a stop to the further annoyances of insolents and
+bullies, by the only effectual mode--precisely as I should have used a
+bludgeon over his head, in the event of a personal assault upon me. Of
+course, I had no purpose to do him any injury, unless--with the view
+to my own safety. I resolved secretly to throw away my fire. Kingsley
+suspected me of some such intention, and earnestly protested against it.
+
+“I should not place you at all,” he said, “if I fancied you could do a
+thing so d---d foolish. The fellow intends to shoot you if he can. Help
+him to a share of the same sauce.”
+
+I nodded as he proceeded to his arrangements. Here some conference
+ensued between the seconds:--
+
+“Mr. Carter was very sorry that such a business must proceed. Was it yet
+too late to rectify mistakes? Might not the matter be adjusted?”
+
+Kingsley, on such occasions, the very prince of punctilio, agreed that
+the matter was a very lamentable one--to be regretted, and so forth--but
+of the necessity of the thing, he, Mr. Carter, for his principal, must
+be the only judge.
+
+“Mr. Carter could answer for his friend, Mr. Perkins, that he was always
+accessible to reason.”
+
+“Mr. Kingsley never knew a man more so than HIS principal.”
+
+“May we not reconcile the parties?” demanded Mr. Carter.
+
+“Does Mr. Perkins withdraw his message?” answered Kingsley by another
+question.
+
+“He would do so, readily, were there any prospect of adjusting the
+matter upon an honorable footing.”
+
+“Mr. Carter will be pleased to name the basis for what he esteems an
+honorable adjustment.”
+
+“Mr. Perkins withdraws his challenge.”
+
+“We have no objection to that.”
+
+“He substitutes a courteous requisition upon Mr. Clifford for an
+explanation of certain language, supposed to be offensive, made to a
+lady.”
+
+“Mr. Clifford denies, without qualification, the employment of any such
+language.”
+
+“This throws us back on our old ground,” said Carter--“there is a lady
+in question--”
+
+“Who can not certainly be brought into the controversy,” said
+Kingsley--“I see no other remedy, Mr. Carter, but that we should place
+the parties. We are here to answer to your final summons.”
+
+“Very good, sir; this matter, and what happens, must lie at your door.
+You are peremptory. I trust you have provided a surgeon.”
+
+“His services are at your need, sir,” replied Kingsley with military
+courtesy.
+
+“I thank you, sir--my remark had reference to your own necessity. Shall
+we toss up for the word?”
+
+These preliminaries were soon adjusted. The word fell to Carter, and
+thus gave an advantage to Perkins, as his ear was more familiar than
+mine with the accents of his friend. We were placed, and the pistol put
+into my hands, without my uttering a sentence.
+
+“Coolly now, my dear fellow,” said Kingsley in a whisper, as he withdrew
+from my side;--“wing him at least--but don't burn powder for nothing.”
+
+Scarcely the lapse of a moment followed, when I heard the words “one,”
+ “two,” “three,” in tolerably rapid succession, and, at the utterance of
+the last, I pulled trigger. My antagonist had done so at the first.
+His eye was fixed upon mine with deliberate malignity--THAT I clearly
+saw--but it did not affect my shot. This, I purposely threw away. The
+skill of my enemy did not correspondend (sic) with his evident desires.
+I was hurt, but very slightly. His bullet merely raised the skin upon
+the fleshy part of my right thigh. We kept our places while a conference
+ensued between the two seconds. Mr. Perkins, through his friend,
+declared himself unsatisfied unless I apologized, or--in less unpleasant
+language--explained. This demand was answered by Kingsley with cavalier
+indifference He came to me with a second pistol. His good-humored visage
+was now slightly ruffled.
+
+“Clifford!” said he, as he put the weapon into my hand, “you must trifle
+no longer. This fellow abuses your generosity. He knows, as well as I,
+that you threw away your fire; and he will play the same game with you,
+on the same terms, for a month together, Sundays not excepted. I am
+not willing to stand by and see you risk your life in this manner; and,
+unless you tell me that you will give him as good as he sends, I leave
+you on the spot. Will you take aim this time?”
+
+“I will!”
+
+“You promise me then?”
+
+“I do!”
+
+I was conscious of the increased activity of my organ of destructiveness
+as I said these words. I smiled with a feeling of pleasant
+bitterness--that spicy sort of malice which you may sometimes rouse in
+the bosom of the best-natured man in the world, by an attempt to do him
+injustice. The wound I had received, though very trifling, had no little
+to do with this determination. It was not unlike such a wound as would
+be made by a smart stroke of a whip, and the effect upon my blood was
+pretty much as if it had been inflicted by some such instrument. I was
+stung and irritated by it, and the pertinacity of my enemy, particularly
+as he must have seen that my shot was thrown away, decided me to punish
+him if I could. I did so! I was not conscious that I was hurt myself,
+until I saw him falling!--I then felt a heavy and numbing sensation in
+the same thigh which had been touched before. A faintness relieved me
+from present sensibility, and when I became conscious, I found myself
+in the carriage, supported by Kingsley and the surgeon, on my way to my
+lodgings. My wound was a flesh wound only; the ball was soon extracted,
+and in a few weeks after, I was enabled to move about with scarcely a
+feeling of inconvenience. My opponent suffered a much heavier penalty.
+The bone of his leg was fractured, and it was several months before he
+was considered perfectly safe. The lesson he got made him a sorer and
+shorter--a wiser, if not a better man; but as I do not now, and did
+not then, charge myself with the task of bringing about his moral
+improvement, it is not incumbent upon me to say anything further on this
+subject. We will leave him to get better as he may.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+HEAD WINDS.
+
+
+The hurts of Perkins did not, unhappily, delay the progress of my uncle
+to that destruction to which his silly wife and knavish lawyer
+had destined him. His business was brought before the court by the
+claimants, Messrs. Banks & Tressell; and a brief period only was left
+him for putting in his answer. When I thought of Julia, I resolved, in
+spite of all previous difficulties--the sneers of the father, and the
+more direct, coarse insults of the mother--to make one more effort to
+rescue him from the fate which threatened him. I felt sure that, for the
+reasons already given, the merchants would still be willing to effect a
+compromise which would secure them the principal of their claim, without
+incurring the delay and risk of litigation. Accordingly, I penned a note
+to Mr. Clifford, requesting permission to wait upon him at home, at
+a stated hour. To this I received a cold, brief answer, covering the
+permission which I sought. I went, but might as well have spared myself
+the labor and annoyance of this visit. Mrs. Clifford was still in the
+ascendant--still deaf to reason, and utterly blind to the base position
+into which her meddlesome interference in the business threw her
+husband. She had her answer ready; and did not merely content herself
+with rejecting my overtures, but proceeded to speak in the language of
+one who really regarded me as busily seeking, by covert ways, to effect
+the ruin of her family. Her looks and language equally expressed the
+indignation of a mind perfectly convinced of the fraudulent and evil
+purposes of the person she addressed. Those of my uncle were scarcely
+less offensive. A grin of malicious self-gratulation mantled his lips as
+he thanked me for my counsel, which, he yet remarked, “however wise and
+good, and well-intended, he did not think it advisable to adopt. He had
+every confidence in the judgment of Mr. Perkins, who, though without the
+great legal knowledge of some of his youthful neighbors, had enough
+for his purposes; and had persuaded him to see the matter in a very
+different point of view from that in which I was pleased to regard it.”
+
+There was no doing anything with or for these people. The fiat for
+their overthrow had evidently been issued. The fatuity which leads to
+self-destruction was fixed upon them; and, with a feeling rather
+of commiseration than anger, I prepared to leave the house. In this
+interview, I made a discovery, which tended still more to lessen the
+hostility I might otherwise have felt toward my uncle. I was constrained
+to perceive that he labored under an intellectual feebleness and
+incertitude which disconcerted his expression, left his thoughts
+seemingly without purpose, and altogether convinced me that, if not
+positively imbecile in mind and memory, there were yet some ugly
+symptoms of incapacity growing upon him which might one day result
+in the loss of both. I had always known him to be a weak-minded man,
+disposed to vanity and caprice, but the weakness had expanded very much
+in a brief period, and now presented itself to my view in sundry very
+salient aspects. It was easy now to divert his attention from the
+business which he had in hand--a single casual remark of courtesy or
+observation would have this effect--and then his mind wandered from
+the subject with all the levity and caprice of a thoughtless damsel.
+He seemed to entertain now no sort of apprehension of his legal
+difficulties, and spoke of them as topics already adjusted. Nay, for
+that matter, he seemed to have no serious sense of any subject, whatever
+might be its personal or general interest; but, passing from point to
+point, exhibited that instability of mental vision which may not inaptly
+be compared to that wandering glance which is usually supposed to
+distinguish and denote, in the physical eye, the presence of insanity.
+It was not often now that he indulged, while speaking to me, in that
+manner of hostility--those sneers and sarcastic remarks--which had been
+his common habit. This was another proof of the change which his mental
+man had undergone. It was not that he was more prudent or more tolerant
+than before. He was quite as little disposed to be generous toward me.
+But he now appeared wholly incapable of that degree of intellectual
+concentration which could enable him to examine a subject to its
+close. He would begin to talk with me seriously enough, and with a due
+solemnity, about the suit against him; but, in a tangent, he would dart
+off to the consideration of some trifle, some household matter, or petty
+affair, of which, at any other time, he must have known that his hearers
+had no wish to hear. Poor Julia confirmed the conjectures which I
+entertained, but did not utter, by telling me that her father had
+changed very much in his ways ever since this business had been begun.
+
+“Mother does not see it, but he is no longer the same man. Oh, Edward, I
+sometimes think he's even growing childish.”
+
+The fear was a well-founded one. Before the case was tried, Mr. Clifford
+was generally regarded, among those who knew him intimately, as little
+better than an imbecile; and so rapid was the progress of his infirmity,
+that when the judgment was given, as it was, against him, he was wholly
+unable to understand or fear its import. His own sense of guilt had
+anticipated its effects, and his intense vanity was saved from public
+shame only by the substitution of public pity. The decree of the court
+gave all that was asked; and the handsome competence of the Cliffords
+was exchanged for a miserable pittance, which enabled the family to live
+only in the very humblest manner.
+
+It will readily be conjectured, from what I have stated in respect to
+myself, that mine was not the disposition to seek revenge, or find cause
+for exultation in these deplorable events. I had no hostility against my
+unhappy uncle; I should have scorned myself if I had. If such a feeling
+ever filled my bosom, it would have been most effectually disarmed
+by the sight of the wretched old man, a grinning, gibbering idiot,
+half-dancing and half-shivering from the cold, over the remnants of a
+miserable and scant fire in the severest evening in November. It was
+when the affair was all over; when the property of the family was all in
+the hands of the sheriff; when the mischievous counsel of such a person
+as Jonathan Perkins, Esquire could do no more harm even to so foolish
+a person as my uncle's wife; and when his presence, naturally enough
+withdrawn from a family from which he could derive no further profit,
+and which he had helped to ruin, was no longer likely to offend mine by
+meeting him there--that I proceeded to renew my direct intercourse with
+the unfortunate people whom I was not suffered to save.
+
+The reader is not to suppose that I had kept myself entirely aloof
+from the family until these disasters had happened. I sought Julia when
+occasion offered, and, though she refused it, tendered my services and
+my means whenever they might be bestowed with hope of good. And now,
+when all was over, and I met her at the door, and she sank upon my
+bosom, and wept in my embrace, still less than ever was I disposed to
+show to her mother the natural triumph of a sagacity which had shown
+itself at the expense of hers. I forgot, in the first glance of my
+uncle, all his folly and unkindness. He was now a shadow, and the mental
+wreck was one of the most deplorable, as it was one of the most rapid
+and complete, that could be imagined. In less than seven months,
+a strong man--strong in health--strong, as supposed, in
+intellect--singularly acute in his dealings among tradesmen--regarded by
+them as one of the most shrewd in the fraternity--vain of his parts, of
+his family, and of his fortune--solicitous of display, and constant in
+its indulgence!--that such a man should be stricken down to imbecility
+and idiotism--a meagre skeleton in form--pale, puny, timid--crouching
+by the fireplace--grinning with stealthy looks, momently cast around
+him--and playing--his most constant employment--with the bellows strings
+that hung beside him, or the little kitten, that, delighted with new
+consideration, had learned to take her place constantly at his feet!
+What a wreck!
+
+But the moral man had been wrecked before, or this could not have been.
+It was only because of his guilt--of its exposure rather--that he
+sunk. In striving to shake off the oppressive burden, he shook off the
+intellect which had been compelled chiefly to endure it. The sense of
+shame, the conviction of loss, and, possibly, other causes of conscience
+which lay yet deeper--for the progeny of crime is most frequently a
+litter as numerous as a whelp's puppies--helped to crush the mind which
+was neither strong enough to resist temptation at first, nor to bear
+exposure at last. I turned away with a tear, which I could not suppress,
+from the wretched spectacle. But I could have borne with more patience
+to behold this ruin, than to subdue the rising reproach which I felt as
+I turned to encounter Mrs. Clifford.
+
+This weak woman, still weak, received me coldly, and I could see in her
+looks that she regarded me as one whom it was natural to suppose would
+feel some exultation at beholding their downfall. I saw this, but
+determined to say nothing, in the attempt to undo these impressions. I
+knew that time was the best teacher in all such matters, and resolved
+that my deportment should gradually make her wiser on the subject of
+that nature which she had so frequently abused, and which, I well
+knew, she could never understand. But this hope I soon discovered to be
+unavailing. Her disaster had only soured, not subdued her; and, with
+the natural tendency of the vulgar mind, she seemed to regard me as the
+person to whom she should ascribe all her misfortunes. As, to her narrow
+intellect, it seemed natural that I should exult in the accomplishment
+of my predictions, so it was a process equally natural that she should
+couple me with their occurrence; and, indeed, I was too nearly connected
+with the event, through the medium of my unconscious father, not to feel
+some portion of the affliction on his account also; though neither his
+memory nor my reputation suffered from the development of the affair in
+the community where we lived.
+
+Mrs. Clifford did not openly, or in words, betray the feelings which
+were striving in her soul; but the general restraint which she put upon
+herself in my presence, the acerbity of her tone, manner, and language,
+to poor Julia, and the unvaried querulousness of her remarks, were
+sufficient to apprize me of the spite which she would have willingly
+bestowed upon myself, had she any tolerable occasion for doing so. A few
+weeks served still further to humble the conceit and insolence of the
+unfortunate woman. The affair turned out much more seriously than I
+expected. A sudden fall in the value of real and personal estate, just
+about the time when the sheriff's sale took place, rendered necessary
+a second levy, which swept the miserable remnant of Mr. Clifford's
+fortune, leaving nothing to my uncle but a small estate which had been
+secured by settlement to Mrs. Clifford and her daughter, and which the
+sheriff could not legally lay hands on.
+
+I came forward at this juncture, and, having allowed them to remove into
+the small tenement to which, in their reduced condition they found it
+prudent to retire, I requested a private interview with Mrs. Clifford,
+and readily obtained it.
+
+I was received by the good lady in apparent state. All the little
+furniture which she could save from the former, was transferred very
+inappropriately to the present dwelling-house. The one was quite
+unsuited to the other. The massive damask curtains accorded badly with
+the little windows over which they were now suspended, and the sofa, ten
+feet in length, occupied an unreasonable share of an apartment twelve by
+sixteen. The dais of piled cushions, on which so many fashionable groups
+had lounged in better times, now seemed a mountain, which begot ideas of
+labor, difficulty, and up-hill employment, rather than ease, as the eye
+beheld it cumbering two thirds of the miserable area into which it was
+so untastefully compressed. These, and other articles of splendor and
+luxury, if sold, would have yielded her the means to buy furniture more
+suitable to her circumstances and situation, and left her with some
+additional resources to meet the daily and sometimes pressing exigencies
+of life.
+
+The appearance of this parlor argued little in behalf of the salutary
+effect which such reverses might be expected to produce in a mind even
+tolerably sensible. They argued, I fancied, as unfavorably for my suit
+as for the humility of the lady whom I was about to meet. If the
+parlor of Mrs. Clifford bore such sufficient tokens of her weakness of
+intellect, her own costume betrayed still more. She had made her person
+a sort of frame or rack upon which she hung every particle of that
+ostentatious drapery which she was in the habit of wearing at her
+fashionable evenings. A year's income was paraded upon her back, and the
+trumpery jewels of three generations found a place on every part of her
+person where it is usual for fashionable folly to display such gewgaws.
+She sailed into the room in a style that brought to my mind instantly
+the description which Milton gives of the approach of Delilah to Samson,
+after the first days of his blind captivity:--
+
+
+   “But who is this, what thing of sea or land?--
+    Female of sex it seems--
+    That so bedecked, ornate and gay,
+    Comes this way sailing, like a stately ship
+    Of Tarsus, bound for the isles
+    Of Javan or Gadire,
+    With all her bravery on and tackle trim,
+    Sails filled, and streamers waving,
+    Courted by all the winds that hold their play,
+    An amber scent of odorous perfume
+    Her harbinger!”
+
+
+No description could have been more, just and literal in the case of
+Mrs. Clifford. I could scarce believe my eyes; and when forced to do
+so, I could scarcely suppose that this bravery was intended for my eyes
+only. Nor was it;--but let me not anticipate. This spectacle, I need
+not say, sobered me entirely, if anything was necessary to produce this
+effect, and increased the grave apprehensions which were already at my
+heart. The next consequence was to make the manner of my communication
+serious even to severity. A smile, which was of that doubtful sort which
+is always sinister and offensive, overspread her lips as she motioned
+me to resume the seat from which I had risen at her entrance; while she
+threw herself with an air of studied negligence upon one part of the
+sofa. I felt the awkwardness of my position duly increased, as her
+house, dress, and manner, convinced me that she was not yet subdued to
+hers; but a conscious rectitude of intention carried me forward, and
+lightened the task to my feelings.
+
+“Mrs. Clifford,” I said, without circumlocution, “I have presumed to ask
+your attention this morning to a brief communication which materially
+affects my happiness, and which I trust may not diminish, if it does not
+actually promote, yours. Before I make this communication, however, I
+hope I may persuade myself that the little misunderstandings which
+have occurred between us are no longer to be considered barriers to our
+mutual peace, and happiness--”
+
+“Misunderstandings, Mr. Clifford?--I don't know what misunderstandings
+you mean. I'm sure I've never misunderstood you.”
+
+I could not misunderstand the insolent tenor of this speech, but
+I availed myself of the equivoque which it involved to express my
+gratification that such was the case.
+
+“My path will then be more easy, Mrs. Clifford--my purpose more easily
+explained.”
+
+“I am glad you think so, sir,” she answered coolly, smoothing down
+certain folds of her frock, and crossing her hands upon her lap, while
+she assumed the attitude of a patient listener. There was something
+very repulsive in all this; but I saw that the only way to lessen the
+unpleasantness of the scene, and to get on with her, would be to make
+the interview as short as possible, and come at once to my object. This
+I did.
+
+“It is now more than a year, Mrs. Clifford, since I had the honor to
+say to my uncle, that I entertained for my cousin Julia such a degree
+of affection as to make it no longer doubtful to me that I should best
+consult my own happiness by seeking to make her my wife. I had the
+pleasure at the same time to inform him, which I believed to be true,
+that Julia herself was not unwilling that such should be the nearer tie
+between us--”
+
+“Yes, yes, Mr. Clifford, I know all this; but my husband and myself
+thought better of it, and--” she said with fidgety impatience.
+
+“And my application was refused,” I said calmly; thus finishing the
+sentence where she had paused.
+
+“Well, sir, and what then?”
+
+“At that time, madam, my uncle gave as a reason that he had other
+arrangements in view.”
+
+“Yes, sir, so we had; and this reminds me that those arrangements were
+broken off entirely in consequence of the perversity which you taught
+my daughter. I know it all, sir; there's no more need to tell me of
+it, than there is to deny it. You put my daughter up to refusing young
+Roberts, who would have jumped at her, as his father did--and he one of
+the best families and best fortunes in the city. I'm sure I don't know,
+sir, what object you can have in reminding me of these things.”
+
+Here was ingenious perversity. I bore with it as well as I could, and
+strove to preserve my consideration and calmness.
+
+“You do your daughter injustice, Mrs. Clifford, and me no less, in
+this opinion. But I do not seek to remind you of misunderstandings and
+mistakes, the memory of which can do no good. My purpose now is to renew
+the offer to you which I originally made to Mr. Clifford. My attachment
+to your daughter remains unaltered, and I am happy to say that fortune
+has favored me so far as to enable me to place her in a situation of
+comparative comfort and independence which I could not offer then--”
+
+“Which is as much as to say that she don't enjoy comfort and
+independence where she is; and if she does not, sir, to whom is it all
+owing, sir, but to you and your father? By your means it is that we are
+reduced to poverty; but you shall see, sir, that we are not entirely
+wanting in independence. My answer, sir, is just the same as Mr.
+Clifford's was. I am very much obliged to you for THE HONOR you intend
+my family, but we must decline it. As for the comfort and independence
+which you proffer to my daughter, I am happy to inform you that she
+can receive it at any moment from a source perhaps far more able than
+yourself to afford both, if her perversity does not stand in the way,
+as it did when young Roberts made his offers. Mr. Perkins, sir, the
+excellent young man that you tried to murder, is to be here, sir, this
+very morning, to see my daughter. Here's his letter, sir, which you may
+read, that you may be under no apprehensions that my daughter will ever
+suffer from a want of comfort and independence.”
+
+She flung a letter down on the sofa beside her, but I simply bowed, and
+declined looking at it. I did not, however, yield the contest in this
+manner. I urged all that might properly be urged on the subject, and
+with as much earnestness as could be permitted in an interview with a
+lady--and such a lady!--but, as the reader may suppose, my toils were
+taken in vain: all that I could suggest, either in the shape of reason
+or expostulation, only served to make her more and more dogged, and
+to increase her tone of insolence; and sore, stung with vexation,
+disappointed, and something more than bewildered, I dashed almost
+headlong out of the house, without seeing either Julia or her father,
+precisely at the moment when Mr. Perkins was about to enter.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+CRISIS.
+
+
+The result of this interview of my rival with the mother of Julia, was
+afforded me by the latter. The mother had already given her consent to
+his suit--that of Julia alone was to be obtained; and to this end the
+arts of the suitor and the mother were equally devoted. Her refusal only
+brought with it new forms of persecution. Her steps were haunted by the
+swain, to whom Mrs. Clifford gave secret notice of all her daughter's
+intentions. He was her invariable attendant at church, where I had
+the pain constantly to behold them, in such close proximity, that I at
+length abandoned the customary house of worship, and found my pew in
+another, where I could be enabled to endure the forms of service without
+being oppressed by foreign and distracting thoughts and fancies.
+
+Of the progress of the suit I had occasional intelligence from Julia
+herself, whom I had, very reluctantly on her part, persuaded to meet me
+at the house of a female relative and friend, who favored our desires
+and managed our interviews. Brief were these stolen moments, but oh, how
+blissful! The pleasures they afforded, however, were almost wholly mine.
+The clandestine character of our meetings served to deprive her of the
+joy which they otherwise might have yielded; and the fear that she was
+not doing right, humbled her spirit and made her tremble with frequent
+apprehensions.
+
+At length Mrs. Clifford suspected our interviews, and detected them.
+We had a most stormy scene on one occasion, when the sudden entrance
+of this lady surprised us together, at the house of our friend. The
+consequence of this was, a rupture between the ladies, which resulted in
+Julia's being forbidden to visit the house of her relative again. This
+measure was followed by others of such precaution, that at length I
+could no longer communicate with her, or even seek her, unless when she
+was on her way to church. Her appearance then was such as to awaken
+all my apprehensions. Her form, always slender, was become more so.
+The change was striking in a single week. Her face, usually pale and
+delicate, was now haggard. Her walk was feeble, and without elasticity.
+Her whole appearance was wo-begone and utterly spiritless. Days
+and weeks passed, and my heart was filled with hourly-increasing
+apprehensions. I returned to the familiar church, but here I suffered a
+new alarm. That sabbath the family pew was unoccupied. While I trembled
+lest something serious had befallen her, I was called on by the family
+physician. This gentleman had been always friendly. He had been my
+father's physician, and had been his friend and frequent guest; he knew
+my history, and sympathized with my fortunes. He now know the history
+of Julia's affections. She had made him her confidante so far, and he
+brought me a letter from her. She was sick, as I expected. This letter
+was of startling tenor:--
+
+“Save me, Edward, if you can. I am now willing to do as you proposed.
+I can no longer endure these annoyances--these cruel persecutions! My
+mother tells me that I must submit and marry this man, if we would save
+ourselves from ruin. It seems he has a claim against the estate for
+professional services; and as we have no other means of payment, without
+the sale of all that is left, he is base enough to insist upon my
+hand as the condition of his forbearance. He uses threats now, since
+entreaties have failed him. Oh, Edward, if you can save me, come!--for
+of a certainty, I can not bear this persecution much long and live. I am
+now willing to consent to do what Aunt Sophy recommended. Do not think
+me bold to say so, dear Edward--if I am bold, it is despair which makes
+me so.”
+
+I read this letter with mingled feelings of indignation and
+delight--indignation, because of the cruelties to which the worthless
+mother and the base suitor subjected one so dear and innocent delight,
+since the consent which she now yielded placed the means of saving her
+at my control. The consent was to flight and clandestine marriage, to
+which I had, with the assistance of our mutual friend, endeavored to
+persuade her, in several instances, before.
+
+The question now was, how to effect this object, since we had no
+opportunities for communication; but, before I took any steps in the
+matter, I made it a point of duty to deprive the infamous attorney,
+Perkins, of his means of power over the unhappy family. I determined
+to pay his legal charges; and William Edgerton, at my request, readily
+undertook this part of the business. They were found to be extortionate,
+and far beyond anything either warranted by the practice or the fee
+bill. Edgerton counselled me to resist the claim; but the subject was
+too delicate in all its relations, and my own affair with Perkins would
+have made my active opposition seem somewhat the consequence of malice
+and inveterate hostility. I preferred to pay the excess, which was done
+by Edgerton, rather than have any further dispute or difficulty with
+one whom I so much despised. Complete satisfaction was entered upon
+the records of the court, and a certified discharge, under the hand
+of Perkins himself--which he gave with a reluctance full of
+mortification--was sent in a blank envelope to Mrs. Clifford. She was
+thus deprived of the only excuse--if, indeed, such a woman ever needs an
+excuse for wilfulness--for persecuting her unhappy daughter on the score
+of the attorney.
+
+But the possession of this document effected no sort of change in her
+conduct. She pursued her victim with the same old tenacity. It was not
+to favor Perkins that she strove for this object: it was to baffle ME.
+That blind heart, which misguides all of us in turn, was predominant in
+her, and rendered her totally incapable of seeing the cruel consequences
+to her daughter which her perseverance threatened. Julia was now so
+feeble as scarcely to leave her chamber; the physician was daily in
+attendance; and, though I could not propose to make use of his services
+in promoting a design which would subject him to the reproach of the
+grossest treachery, yet, without counsel, he took it upon him plainly
+to assure the mother that the disorder of her daughter arose solely from
+her mental afflictions. He went farther. Mrs. Clifford, whose garrulity
+was as notorious as her vanity and folly, herself took occasion, when
+this was told her, to ascribe the effect to me; and, with her own
+coloring, she continued, by going into a long history of our “course of
+wooing.” The doctor availed himself of these statements to suggest the
+necessity of a compromise, assuring Mrs. Clifford that I was really
+a more deserving person than she thought me, and, in short, that some
+concessions must be made, if it was her hope to save her daughter's
+life.
+
+“She is naturally feeble of frame, nervous and sensitive, and these
+excitements, pressing upon her, will break down her constitution and her
+spirits together. Let me warn you, Mrs. Clifford, while yet in season.
+Dismiss your prejudices against this young man, whether well or ill
+founded, and permit your daughter to marry him. Suffer me to assure you,
+Mrs. Clifford, that such an event will do more toward her recovery than
+all my medicine.”
+
+“What, and see him the master of my house--he, the poor beggar-boy that
+my husband fed in charity, and who turned from him with ingratitude in
+his moment of difficulty, and left him to be despoiled by his enemies?
+Never! never! Daughter of mine shall never be wife of his! The serpent!
+to sting the hand of his benefactor!”
+
+“My dear Mrs. Clifford, this prejudice of yours, besides being totally
+unfounded, amounts to monomania. Now, I know something of all these
+matters, as you should be aware; and I should be sorry to counsel
+anything to you or to your family which would be either disgraceful or
+injurious. So far from this young man being ungrateful, neglectful, or
+suffering your husband to be preyed on by enemies, I am of opinion that,
+if his counsel had been taken in this late unhappy business, you would
+probably have been spared all of the misery and nearly one half of the
+loss which has been incurred by the refusal to do so.”
+
+“And so you, too, are against us, doctor? You, too, believe everything
+that this young man tells you?”
+
+“No, madam; I assure you, honestly, that I never heard a single word
+from his lips in regard to this subject. It is spoken of by everybody
+but himself.”
+
+“Ay! ay! the whole town knows it, and from who else but him, I wonder?
+But you needn't to talk, doctor, on the subject. My mind's made up.
+Edward Clifford, while I have breath to say 'No,' and a hand to turn the
+lock of the door against him, shall never again darken these doors!”
+
+The physician was a man of too much experience to waste labor upon a
+case so decidedly hopeless. He knew that no art within his compass could
+cure so thorough a case of heart-blindness, and he gave her up; but he
+did not give up Julia. He whispered words of consolation into her ears,
+which, though vague, were yet far more useful than physic.
+
+“Cheer up, my daughter; be of good heart and faith. I AM SURE that there
+will be some remedy provided for you, before long, which will do you
+good. I have given the letter to your aunt, and she promises to do as
+you wish.”
+
+It may be said, en passant, that the billet sent to me had been covered
+in another to my female friend and Julia's relative; and that the
+doctor, though not unconscious of the agency of this lady between us,
+was yet guilty of no violation of the faith which is always implied
+between the family and the physician. He might SUSPECT, but he did not
+KNOW; and whatever might have been his suspicions, he certainly did not
+have the most distant idea of that concession which Julia had made, and
+of the course of conduct for which her mother's persecutions had now
+prepared her mind.
+
+Mr. Perkins, though deprived of his lien upon Mrs. Clifford, by reason
+of his claim, did not in the least forego his intentions. His complaints
+and threatenings necessarily ceased--his tone was something lowered;
+but he possessed a hold upon this silly woman's prejudices which was
+far superior to any which he might before have had upon her fears. His
+hostility to me was grateful to the hate which she also entertained,
+and which seemed to be more thoroughly infixed in her after her
+downfall--which, as it has been seen, she ascribed to me; chiefly
+because of my predictions that such would be the case. In due proportion
+to her hate for me, was her desire to baffle my wishes, even though it
+might be at the expense of her own daughter's life. But a vain mother
+has no affections--none, at least, worthy of the name, and none which
+she is not prepared to discard at the first requisition of her dearer
+self. Her hate of me was so extreme as to render her blind to everything
+besides--her daughter's sickness, the counsel of the physician, the
+otherwise obvious vulgarity and meanness of Perkins, and that gross
+injustice which I had suffered at her hands from the beginning, and
+which, to many minds, might have amply justified in me the hostile
+feelings which she laid to my charge. In this blindness she precipitated
+events, and by her cruelty justified extremities in self-defence. The
+moment that Julia exhibited some slight improvement, she was summoned
+to an interview with Perkins, and in this interview her mother solemnly
+swore that she should marry him. The base-minded suitor stood by in
+silence, beheld the loathing of the maiden, heard her distinct refusal,
+yet clung to his victim, and permitted the violence of the mother,
+without rebuke--that rebuke which the true gentleman might have
+administered in such a case, and which, to forbear, was the foulest
+shame--the rebuke of his own decided refusal to participate in such
+a sacrifice. But he was not capable of this; and Julia, stunned and
+terrified, was shocked to hear Mrs. Clifford appoint the night of the
+following Thursday for the forced nuptials.
+
+“She will consent--she shall consent, Mr. Perkins,” were the vehement
+assurances of the mother, as the craven-spirited suitor prepared to take
+his leave. “I know her better than you do, and she knows me. Do you fear
+nothing, but bring Mr--” (the divine) “along with you. We shall put an
+end to this folly.”
+
+“Oh, do not, do not, mother, if you would not drive me mad!” was the
+exclamation of the destined victim, as she threw herself at the feet of
+her unnatural parent. “You will kill me to wed this man! I can not marry
+him--I can not love him. Why would you force this matter upon me--why!
+why!”
+
+“Why will you resist me, Julia? why will you provoke your mother to this
+degree? You have only to consent willingly, and you know how kind I am.”
+
+“I can not consent!” was the gasping decision of the maiden.
+
+“You shall! you must! you will!”
+
+“Never! never! On my knees I say it, mother. God will witness what you
+refuse to believe. I will die before I consent to marry where I do not
+give my heart.”
+
+“Oh, you talk of dying, as if it was a very easy matter. But you won't
+die. It's more easy to say than do. Do you come, Mr. Perkins. Don't you
+mind--don't you believe in these denials, and oaths, and promises. It's
+the way with all young ladies. They all make a mighty fuss when they're
+going to be married; but they're all mighty willing, if the truth was
+known. I ought to know something about it. I did just the same as she
+when I was going to marry Mr. Clifford; yet nobody was more willing than
+I was to get a husband. Do you come and bring the parson; she'll sing a
+different tune when she stands up before him, I warrant you.”
+
+“That shall never be, Mr. Perkins!” said the maiden solemnly, and
+somewhat approaching the person whom she addressed. “I have already more
+than once declined the honor you propose to do me. I now repeat to you
+that I will sooner marry the grave and the winding-sheet than be your
+wife! My mother mistakes me and all my feelings. For your own sake, if
+not for mine, I beg that YOU will not mistake them; for, if the strength
+is left me for speech, I will declare aloud to the reverend man whom you
+are told to bring, the nature of those persecutions to which you have
+been privy. I will tell him of the cruelty which I have been compelled
+to endure, and which you have beheld and encouraged with your silence.”
+
+Perkins looked aghast, muttered his unwillingness to prosecute his suit
+under such circumstances, and prepared to take his leave. His mutterings
+and apologies were all swallowed up in that furious storm of abuse and
+denunciation which now poured from the lips of the exemplary mother.
+These we need not repeat. Suffice it that the deep feelings of
+Julia--her sense of propriety and good taste--prevailed to keep her
+silent, while her mother, still raving, renewed her assurances to the
+pettifogger that he should certainly receive his wife at her hands on
+the evening of the ensuing Thursday. The unmanly suitor accepted her
+assurances--and took leave of mother and daughter, with the expression
+of a simpering hope, intended chiefly for the latter, that her
+objections would resolve themselves into the usual maidenly scruples
+when the appointed time should arrive. Julia mustered strength enough to
+reply in language which brought down another storm from her mother upon
+her devoted head.
+
+“Do not deceive Perkins--do not let the assurances of my mother deceive
+you. She does not know me. I can not and will not marry you. I will
+sooner marry the grave--the winding-sheet--the worm!”
+
+Her strength failed her the moment he left the apartment. She sank in a
+fainting-fit upon the floor, and was thus saved from hearing the bitter
+abuse which her miserable and misguided parent continued to lavish upon
+her, even while undertaking the task of her restoration. The evident
+exhaustion of her frame, her increasing feebleness, the agony of her
+mind, and the possibly fatal termination of her indisposition, did not
+in the least serve to modify the violent and vexing mood of this most
+unnatural woman!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+“GONE TO BE MARRIED.”
+
+
+These proceedings, the tenor of which was briefly communicated to me
+in a hurried note from Julia, despatched by the hands of the physician,
+under a cover, to the friendly aunt, rendered it imperatively necessary
+that, whatever we proposed to do should be done quickly, if we
+entertained any hope to save.
+
+The tone of her epistle alarmed me exceedingly in one respect, as
+it evidently showed that she could not much longer save herself. Her
+courage was sinking with her spirits, which were yielding rapidly
+beneath the continued presence of that persecution which had so long
+been acting upon her. She began now to distrust her own strength--her
+very powers of utterance to declare her aversion to the proposed
+marriage, if ever the trial was brought to the threatened issue before
+the holy man.
+
+“What am I to do--what say--” demanded her trembling epistle, “should
+they go so far? Am I to declare the truth?--can I tell to strange ears
+that it is my mother who forces this cruel sacrifice upon me? I dread I
+can not. I fear that my soul and voice will equally fail me. I tremble,
+dear Edward, when I think that the awful moment may find me speechless,
+and my consent may be assumed from my silence. Save me from this trial,
+dearest Edward; for I fear everything now--and fear myself--my unhappy
+weakness of nerve and spirit more than all. Do not leave me to this
+trial of my strength--for I have none. Save me if you can!”
+
+It may be readily believed that I needed little soliciting to exertion
+after this. The words of this letter occasioned an alarm in my mind,
+little less--though of a different kind--than that which prevailed
+in hers. I knew the weakness of hers--I knew hers--and felt the
+apprehension that she might fail at the proper moment, even more vividly
+than she expressed it.
+
+This letter did not take me by surprise. Before it was received, and
+soon after the first with which she had favored me, by the hands of the
+friendly physician, I had begun my preparations with the view to our
+clandestine marriage. I was only now required to quicken them. The
+obstacle, on the face of it, was, comparatively, a small one. To get her
+from a dwelling, in which, though her steps were watched, she was not
+exactly a prisoner, was scarcely a difficulty, where the lover and the
+lady are equally willing.
+
+Our mode of operations was simple. There was a favorite servant--a
+negro--who had been raised in the family, had been a playmate with my
+poor deceased cousin and myself, and had always been held in particular
+regard by both of us. He was not what is called a house-servant, but
+was employed in the yard in doing various offices, such as cutting wood,
+tending the garden, going of messages, and so forth. This was in the
+better days of the Clifford family. Since its downfall he had been
+instructed to look an owner, and, opportunely, at this moment, when I
+was deliberating upon the process I should adopt for the extrication of
+his young mistress, he came to me to request that I would buy him.
+The presence of this servant suggested to me that he could assist me
+materially in my plans. Without suffering him to know the intention
+which I had formed I listened to his garrulous harangue. A negro is
+usually very copious, where he has an auditor; and though, from his
+situation, he could directly see nothing of the proceedings in the house
+of his owner, yet, from his fellow-servants he had contrived to gather,
+perhaps, a very correct account of the general condition of things. It
+appeared from his story that the attachment of Miss Julia to myself was
+very commonly understood. The effort of the mother to persuade her to
+marry Perkins was also known to him; but of the arrangement that the
+marriage should take place at the early day mentioned in her note, he
+told me nothing, and, in all probability, this part of her proceedings
+was kept a close secret by the wily dame Peter--the name of the
+negro--went on to add, that, loving me, and loving his young mistress,
+and knowing that we loved one another, and believing that we should one
+day be married, he was anxious to have me for his future owner.
+
+“I will buy you, Peter, on one condition.”
+
+“Wha's dat, Mas' Ned?”
+
+“That you serve me faithfully on trial, for five days, without letting
+anybody know who you serve--that you carry my messages without letting
+anybody hear them except that person to whom you are sent--and, if I
+give you a note to carry, that you carry it safely, not only without
+suffering anybody to see the note but the one to whom I send it, but
+without suffering anybody to know or suspect that you've got such a
+thing as a note about you.”
+
+The fellow was all promises; and I penned a billet to Julia which, in
+few words, briefly prepared her to expect my attendance at her house
+at three in the afternoon of the very day when her nuptials were
+contemplated. I then proceeded to a friend--Kingsley--the friend who had
+served me in the meeting with Perkins; a bold, dashing, frank fellow,
+who loved nothing better than a frolic which worried one of the parties;
+and who, I well knew, would relish nothing more than to baffle Perkins
+in a love affair, as we had already done in one of strife. To him
+I unfolded my plan and craved his assistance, which was promised
+instantly. My female friend, the relative of Julia, whose assistance
+had been already given us, and whose quarrel with Mrs. Clifford in
+consequence, had spiced her determination to annoy her still further
+whenever occasion offered, was advised of our plans; and William
+Edgerton readily undertook what seemed to be the most innocent part of
+all, to procure a priest to officiate for us, at the house of the lady
+in question, and at the appointed time.
+
+My new retainer, Peter, brought me due intelligence of the delivery
+of the note, in secret, to Julia, and a verbal answer from her made me
+sanguine of success. The day came, and the hour; and in obedience to
+our plan, my friend, Kingsley, proceeded boldly to the dwelling of Mrs.
+Clifford, just as that lady had taken her seat at the dinner-table,
+requesting to see and speak with her on business of importance. The
+interview was vouchsafed him, though not until the worthy lady
+had instructed the servant to say that she was just then at the
+dinner-table, and would be glad if the gentleman would call again.
+
+But the gentleman regretted that he could not call again. He was from
+Kentucky, desirous of buying slaves, and must leave town the next
+morning for the west. The mention of his, occupation, as Mrs. Clifford
+had slaves to sell, was sufficient to persuade her to lay down the knife
+and fork with promptness; and the servant was bade to show the Kentucky
+gentleman, into the parlor. Our arrangement was, that, with the
+departure of the lady from the table Julia should leave it also--descend
+the stairs, and meet me at the entrance.
+
+Trembling almost to fainting, the poor girl came to me, and I received
+her into my arms, with something of a tremor also. I felt the prize
+would be one that I should be very loath to lose; and joy led to
+anxiety, and my anxiety rendered me nervous to a womanly degree. But
+I did not lose my composure and when I had taken her into my arms, I
+thought it would be only a prudent precaution to turn the key in the
+outer dour, and leave it somewhere along the highway. This I did,
+absolutely forgetting, that, in thus securing myself against any sudden
+pursuit, I had also locked up my friend, the Kentucky trader.
+
+Fortune favored our movements. Our preparations had been properly laid,
+and Edgerton had the divine in waiting. In less than half an hour
+after leaving the house of her parents, Julia and myself stood up to
+be married. Pale, feeble, sad--the poor girl, though she felt no
+reluctance, and suffered not the most momentary remorse for the steps
+she had taken, and was about to take, was yet necessarily and naturally
+impressed with the solemnity and the doubts which hung over the event.
+Young, timid, artless, apprehensive, she was unsupported by those whom
+nature had appointed to watch over and protect her; and though they had
+neglected, and would have betrayed their trust, she yet could not but
+feel that there was an incompleteness about the affair, which, not even
+the solemn accents of the priest, the deep requisitions of those pledges
+which she was called upon to make, and the evident conviction which she
+now entertained, that what had been done was necessary to be done, for
+her happiness, and even her life--could entirely remove. There was an
+awful but sweet earnestness in the sad, intense glance of entreaty, with
+which she regarded me when I made the final response. Her large black
+eye dilated, even under the dewy suffusion of its tears, as it seemed to
+say:--
+
+“It is to you now--to you alone--that I look for that protection, that
+happiness which was denied where I had best right to look for it. Ah!
+let me not look, let me not yield myself to you in vain!”
+
+How imploring, yet how resigned was that glance of tears--love in tears,
+yet love that trusted without fear! It was the embodiment of innocence,
+struggling between hope and doubt, and only strengthened for the future
+by the pure, sweet faith which grew out of their conflict. I look back
+upon that scene, I recall that glance, with a sinking of the heart which
+is full of terror and terrible reproach. Ah! then, then, I had no fear,
+no thought, that I should see that look, and others, more sad, more
+imploring still, and see them without a corresponding faith and love! I
+little knew, in that brief, blessed hour, how rapidly the blindness of
+the heart comes on, even as the scale over the eyes--but such a scale as
+no surgeon's knife can cut away.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+BAFFLED FURY.
+
+
+In the first gush of my happiness--the ceremony being completed, and the
+possession of my treasure certain--I had entirely forgotten my Kentucky
+friend, whom I had locked up, in confidential TETE-A-TETE with madam,
+my exemplary mother-in-law. He was a fellow with a strong dash of humor,
+and could not resist the impulse to amuse himself at the expense of
+the lady, by making an admirable scene of the proceeding. He began the
+business by stating that he had heard she had several negroes whom she
+wished to sell--that he was anxious to buy--he did not care how many,
+and would give the very best prices of any trader in the market. At his
+desire, all were summoned in attendance--some three or four in number,
+that she had to dispose of--all but the worthy Peter, who, under
+existing circumstances, was quite too necessary to my proceedings to be
+dispensed with. These were all carefully examined by the trader. They
+were asked their ages, their names, their qualities; whether they were
+willing to go to Kentucky, the paradise of the western Indian, and so
+forth--all those questions which, in ordinary cases, it is the custom of
+the purchaser to ask. They were, then dismissed, and the Kentuckian next
+discussed with the lady the subject of prices. But let the worthy fellow
+speak for himself:--
+
+“I was so cursed anxious,” he said, “to know whether you had got off and
+in safety, for I was beginning to get monstrous tired of the old cat,
+that I jumped up every now and then to take a peep out of the front
+window. I made an excuse to spit on such occasions--though sometimes
+I forgot to do so--and then I would go back and begin again, with
+something about the bargain and the terms, and whether the negroes were
+honest, and sound, and all that. Well, though I looked out as often as
+I well could with civility, I saw nothing of you, and began to fear that
+something had happened to unsettle the whole plan; but, after a while,
+I saw Peter, with his mouth drawn back and hooked up into his ears, with
+his white teeth glimmering like so many slips of moonshine in a dark
+night, and I then concluded that all was as it should be. But seeing me
+look out so earnestly and often, the good lady at length said:--
+
+“'I suppose, sir, your horses are in waiting. Perhaps you'd like to have
+a servant to mind them.'
+
+“'No, ma'am, I'm obliged to you; but I left the hotel on foot.'
+
+“'Yes, sir,' said she, 'but I thought it might be your horses seeing you
+so often look out.'
+
+“I could scarcely keep in my laughter. It did burst out into a sort of
+chuckle; and, as you were then safe--I knew THAT from Peter's jaws--I
+determined to have my own fun out of the old woman. So I said--pretty
+much in this sort of fashion, for I longed to worry her, and knew just
+how it could be done handsomest--I said:--
+
+“'The truth is, ma'am--pardon me for the slight--but really I was quite
+interested--struck, as I may say, by a very suspicious transaction that
+met my eyes a while ago, when I first got up to spit from the window.'
+
+“'Ah, indeed, sir! and pray, if I may ask, what was it you saw?'
+
+“'Really very curious; but getting up to spit, and looking out before I
+did so--necessary caution, ma'am--some persons might be just under the
+window, you know--'
+
+“'Yes, sir, yes.' The old creature began to look and talk mighty eager.
+
+“'An ugly habit, ma'am--that of spitting. We Kentuckians carry it to
+great excess. Foreigners, I'm told, count it monstrous vulgar--effect
+of tobacco-chewing, ma'am--a deuced bad habit, I grant you, but 'tis a
+habit, and there's no leaving it off, even if we would. I don't think
+Kentuckians, as a people, a bit more vulgar than English, or French, or
+Turks, or any other respectable people of other countries.'
+
+“'No, sir, certainly not; but the transaction--what you saw.'
+
+“Ah yes! beg pardon; but, as I was saying, something really quite
+suspicious! Just as I was about to spit, when I went to the window, some
+ten minutes ago--perhaps you did not observe, but I did not spit. Good
+reason for it, ma'am--might have done mischief.”
+
+“How, sir?”
+
+“Ah that brings me to the question I want to ask: any handsome young
+ladies living about here, ma'am?--here, in your neighborood?”
+
+“Why, yes, sir,” answered the old tabby, with something like surprise;
+“there's several--there's the Masons, just opposite: the Bagbys, next
+door to them below, and Mr. Wilford's daughter: all of them would be
+considered pretty by some persons. On the same side with us, there's
+Mrs. Freeman and her two daughters, but the widow is accounted by many
+the youngest looking and prettiest of the whole, though, to my thinking,
+that's saying precious little for any. Next door to us is a Mr. and Mrs.
+Gibbs, who have a daughter, and she IS rather pretty, but I don't know
+much about them. It might be a mother's vanity, sir, but I think I may
+be proud of having a daughter myself, who is about as pretty as any of
+the best among them; and that's saying a great deal less for her than
+might be said.”
+
+“Ah, indeed--you a daughter, ma'am? But she is not grown-up, of
+course--a mere child?”
+
+“Oh, I beg your pardon, sir, said the old creature, tickled up to the
+eyes, and looking at me with the sweetest smiles; though it may surprise
+you very much, she is not only no child, but a woman grown; and, what's
+more, I think she will be made a wife this very night.”
+
+“Egad, then I suspect she's not the only one that's about to be made a
+wife of. I suspect some one of these young ladies, your neighbors, will
+be very soon in the same condition.”
+
+“Indeed, sir--pray, who?--how do you know? and the old tabby edged
+herself along the sofa until she almost got jam up beside me.”
+
+“Well, said I, I don't KNOW exactly, but I'm deucedly suspicious of it,
+and, more than that, there's some underhand work going on.”
+
+This made her more curious than ever; and her hands and feet, and
+indeed her whole body, got such a fidgeting, that I fancied she began to
+think of getting St. Vitus for a bedfellow. Her eagerness made her ask
+me two or three times what made me think so; and, seeing her anxiety, I
+purposely delayed in order to worry her. I wished to see how far I could
+run her up. When I did begin to explain, I went to work in a round-about
+way enough--something thus, old Kentuck--as I began: “Well, ma'am,
+this tobacco-chewing, as I said before, carried me, as you witnessed,
+constantly to the window. I don't know that I chew more than many
+others, but I know I chew too much for my good, and for decency, too,
+ma'am.”
+
+“Yes, sir, yes; but the young lady, and--”
+
+“Ah, yes, ma'am. Well, then, going to the window once, twice, or thrice,
+I could not help but see a young man standing beneath it, evidently in
+waiting--very earnest, very watchful--seemingly very much interested and
+anxious, as if waiting for somebody.”
+
+“Is it possible?” whispered the tabby, full of expectation.
+
+“Yes, very possible, ma'am--very true.” There he stood; I could even
+hoar his deep-drawn sighs--deep, long, as if from the very bottom of his
+heart.'
+
+“Was he so VERY near, sir?”
+
+“Just under the window--going to and fro--very anxious. I was almost
+afraid I had spit on him, he looked up so hard--so--”
+
+“What, sir, up at you? at--at MY windows, sir?”
+
+“Not exactly, ma'am, that was only my notion, for I thought I might
+have spit upon him, and so wakened his anger; but, indeed, he looked all
+about him, as, indeed, it was natural that he should, you know, if he
+meditated anything that wa'n't exactly right. There was a carriage in
+waiting--a close carriage--not a hundred yards below, and--”
+
+“Ah, sir, do tell me what sort of a looking young gentleman was it--eh?”
+
+“Good-looking fellow enough, ma'am--rather tall, slenderish, but not so
+slender--wore a black frock.” By this time the old creature was up at
+the window--her long, skinny neck stretched out as far as it could go.
+
+“Ah!” said I, “ma'am, you're quite too late, if you expect to see the
+sport. They're off; I saw the last of them when I took my last spit from
+the window. They were then--”
+
+“But, sir, did he--did you say that this person--the person you spit
+on--carried a young lady away with him?”
+
+“You mistake me, ma'am--”
+
+“Ah”--she drew a mighty long breath as if relieved.
+
+“I did NOT spit upon him; I only came near doing it once or twice. If
+I hadn't looked, I should very probably have divided my quid pretty
+equally between both of them.”
+
+“Both! both!” she almost screamed. “Did she go with him, then?--was
+there in truth a young woman?”
+
+“You never saw a creature in such a tearing fidget. Her long nose was
+nearly stuck into my face, and both her hands, all claws extended,
+seemed ready for my cheeks. I felt a little ticklish, I assure you; but
+I kept up my courage, determined to see the game out, and answered very
+deliberately, after I had put a fresh quid into my jaws:--”
+
+“Ay, that she did, ma'am, and seemed deuced glad to go, as was natural
+enough. A mighty pretty girl she was, too; rather thin, but pretty
+enough to tempt a clever fellow to do anything. I reckon they're nigh
+on to being man and wife by this time, let the old people say what they
+will.”
+
+“But the old put didn't wait to hear me say all this. Before the words
+were well out of my mouth, she gave a bounce, to the bell-rope first--I
+thought she'd ha' jerked it to pieces--and then to the head of the
+stairs.”
+
+“Excuse me for a moment, sir, if you please,” she said, in a
+considerable fidget.
+
+“Certainly, ma'am,” says I, with a great Kentucky sort of bow and
+natural civility; and then I could hear her squalling from the head of
+the stairs, and at the top of her voice, “Julia! Julia! Julia!”--but
+there was no answer from Julia. Then came the servants; then came the
+outcry; then she bounced back into the parlor, and blazed out at me for
+not telling her at once that it was her daughter who had been carried
+off, without making so long a story of it, and putting in so much talk
+about tobacco.
+
+“Lord bless you, my dear woman!” says I, “innocent enough, was that
+pretty girl your daughter? That accounts for the fellow looking up at
+the window so often; and I to fancy that it was all because I might have
+given him a quid!”
+
+“You must have seen her THEN!”
+
+“Well, ma'am,” said I, “I must come again about the negroes. I see
+you've got your hands full.”
+
+“And, with that, I pushed down stairs, while she blazed out at her
+husband, whom she called an old fool; and me, whom she called a young
+one; and the negroes, whom she ordered to fly in a hundred ways in the
+same breath; and, to make matters worse, she seized her hat and shawl,
+and bounced down the steps after me. Here we were in a fix again, that
+made her a hundred times more furious. The street-door was locked on the
+outside, and the key gone, and I fastened up with the old mad tabby. I
+tried to stand it while the servants were belaboring to break open, but
+the storm was too heavy, and, raising a sash, I went through: and, in
+good faith, I believe she bounced through after me; for, when I got
+fairly into the street and looked round, there she went, bounce,
+flounce, pell-mell, all in a rage, steam up, puffing like a
+porpoise--though, thank Jupiter! she took another course from myself. I
+was glad to get out of her clutches, I assure you.”
+
+Such was Kingsley's account of his expedition, told in his particular
+manner; and endued with the dramatic vitality which he was well able to
+give it, it was inimitable. It needs but a few words to finish it. Mrs.
+Clifford, with unerring instinct, made her way to the house of that
+friendly lady who had assisted our proceedings. But she came too late
+for anything but abuse. Julia was irrevocably mine. Bitter was the
+clamor which, in our chamber, assailed us from below.
+
+“Oh, Edward, how shall I meet her?” was the convulsive speech of Julia,
+as she heard the fearful sounds of her mother's voice--a voice never
+very musical, and which now, stimulated by unmeasured rage--the rage
+of a baffled and wicked woman--poured forth a torrent of screams rather
+than of human accents. We soon heard the rush of the torrent up stairs,
+and in the direction of our chamber.
+
+“Fear nothing, Julia; her power over you is now at an end. You are now
+mine--mine only--mine irrevocably!”
+
+“Ah, she is still my mother!” gasped the lovely trembler in my arms. A
+moment more, and the old lady was battering at the door. I had locked it
+within. Her voice, husky but subdued, now called to her daughter--
+
+“Julia! Julia! Julia!--come out!”
+
+“Who is there? what do you want?” I demanded. I was disposed to keep her
+out, but Julia implored me to open the door. She had really no strength
+to reply to the summons of the enraged woman; and her entreaty to me was
+expressed in a whisper which scarcely filled my own ears. She was weak
+almost to fainting. I trembled lest her weakness, coupled with her
+fears, and the stormy scene that I felt might be reasonably anticipated,
+would be too much for her powers of endurance. I hesitated. She put her
+hand on my wrist.
+
+“For my sake, Edward, let her in. Let her see me. We will have to
+meet her, and better now--now, when I feel all the solemnity of my new
+position, and while the pledges I have just made are most present to
+my thoughts. Do not fear for me. I am weak and very feeble, but I am
+resolute. I feel that I am not wrong.”
+
+She could scarcely gasp out these brief sentences. I urged her not to
+risk her strength in the interview.
+
+“As you love me, do as I beg you,” she replied, with entreating
+earnestness. “It does not become me to keep my mother, under any
+circumstances, thus waiting at the door, and asking entrance.”
+
+Meanwhile, the clamors of Mrs. Clifford were continued. Julia's aunt was
+there also, and the controversy was hot and heavy between them. Annoyed
+as I was, and apprehensive for Julia. I yet could not forbear laughing
+at the ludicrousness of my position and the whole scene. I began to
+think, from the equal violence of the two ancient dames without, that
+they might finally get to blows. This was also the fear of Julia, and
+another reason why we should throw open the door. I at length did so;
+and soon had the doubtful satisfaction of transferring to myself all
+the wrath of the disappointed mother. She rushed in, the moment the
+door turned upon its hinges, almost upsetting me in the violence of her
+onset. Bounding into the apartment with a fury that was utterly beyond
+her own control, I was led to fear that she might absolutely inflict
+violence upon her daughter, who by this time had sunk, in equal terror
+and exhaustion, upon a sofa in the remotest corner of the room. I
+hastily placed myself between them, and did not scruple, with extended
+hands, to maintain a safe interval of space between the two. I will not
+attempt to describe the tigress rage or the shrieking violence which
+ensued on the part of this veteran termagant. It was only closed
+at length, when, Julia having fainted under the storm, dead to all
+appearance, I picked up the assailant VI ET ARMIS, and, in defiance
+of screams and scratches--for she did not spare the use of her
+talons--resolutely transported her from the chamber.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+ONE DEBT PAID.
+
+
+Staggering forward under this burden--a burden equally active and
+heavy--who should I encounter at the head of the stairs, but the
+liege lord of the lady--my poor imbecile uncle. As soon as she beheld
+him--foaming and almost unintelligible in her rage--she screamed for
+succor--cried “murder” “rape,” “robbery,” and heaven knows what besides.
+A moment before, though she scratched and scuffled to the utmost, she
+had not employed her lungs. A momentary imprecation alone had broken
+from her, as it were, perforce and unavoidably. Now, nothing could
+exceed the stentorian tumult which her tongue maintained. She called
+upon her husband to put me to death--to tear me in pieces--to do
+anything and everything for the punishing of so dreadful an offender
+as myself. In thus commanding him, she did not forbear uttering her own
+unmeasured opinion of the demerits of the man whose performances she
+required.
+
+“If you had the spirit of a man, Clifford--if you were not a poor
+shoat--you'd never have submitted so long as you have to this viper's
+insolence. And there you stand, doing nothing--absolutely still as
+a stock, though you see him beating your wife. Ah! you monster!--you
+coward!--that I should ever have married a man that wasn't able to
+protect me.”
+
+This is a sufficient sample of her style, and not the worst. I am
+constrained to confess that some portions of the good lady's language
+would better have suited the modes of speech common enough among the
+Grecian housekeepers at the celebration of the Eleusinian mysteries. I
+have omitted not a few of the bad words, and forborne the repetition of
+that voluminous eloquence poured out, after the Billingsgate fashion,
+equally upon myself, her daughter, and husband. During the vituperation
+she still kicked and scuffled; my face suffered, and my eyes narrowly
+escaped. But I grasped her firmly; and when her husband, my worthy
+uncle, in obedience to her orders, sprang upon me, with the bludgeon
+which he now habitually carried, I confronted him with the lusty person
+of his spouse, and regret to say, that the first thwack intended for
+my shoulders, descended with some considerable emphasis upon hers. This
+increased her fury, and redoubled her screams. But it did not lessen
+my determination, or make me change my mode of proceeding. I resolutely
+pushed her before me. The husband stood at the head of the stairs and my
+object was to carry her down to the lower story. The stairs were narrow,
+and by keeping up a good watch, I contrived to force him to give ground,
+using his spouse as a sort of battering-RAM--not to perpetrate a pun at
+the expense of the genders--which, I happened to know, had always been
+successful in making him give ground on all previous occasions. His
+habitual deference for the dame, assisted me in my purpose. Step by
+step, however, he disputed my advance; but I was finally successful;
+without any injury beyond that which had been inflicted by the talons of
+the fair lady, and perhaps a single and slight stroke upon the shoulder
+from the club of her husband, I succeeded in landing her upon the lower
+flat in safety. Beyond a squeeze or two, which the exigency of the case
+made something more affectionate than any I should have been otherwise
+pleased to bestow upon her, she suffered no hurt at my hands.
+
+But, though willing to release her, she was not so willing herself to be
+released. When I set her free, she flew at me with cat-like intrepidity;
+and I found her a much more difficult customer than her husband. Him I
+soon baffled. A moment sufficed to grapple with him and wrench the
+stick from his hands, and then, with a moderate exercise of agility, I
+contrived to spring up the stairway which I had just descended, regain
+the chamber, and secure the door, before they could overtake or annoy me
+with their further movements. My wife's aunt, meanwhile, had been busy
+with her restoratives. Julia was now recovering from the fainting fit;
+and I had the satisfaction of hearing from one of the servants that the
+baffled enemy had gone off in a fury that made their departure seem a
+flight rather than a mere retreat.
+
+I should have treated the whole event with indifference--their rage and
+their regard equally--but for my suffering and sensitive wife. Wronged
+as she had been, and so persecuted as to render all her subsequent
+conduct justifiable, she yet forgot none of her filial obligations; and,
+in compliance with her earnest entreaties, I had already, the very day
+after this conflict, prepared an elaborate and respectful epistle to
+both father and mother, when an event took place of startling solemnity,
+which was calculated to subdue my anger, and make the feelings of my
+wife, if possible, more accessible than ever to the influences of fear
+and sorrow. Only three days from our marriage had elapsed, when her
+father was stricken speechless in the street. He was carried home for
+dead. I have already hinted that, months before, and just after the
+threatened discovery of those fraudulent measures by which he lost his
+fortune, his mind had become singularly enfeebled; his memory
+failing, and all his faculties of judgment--never very strong--growing
+capricious, or else obtuse and unobserving. These were the symptoms of a
+rapid physical change, the catastrophe of which was at hand. How far the
+excitement growing out of his daughter's flight and marriage may have
+precipitated this result, is problematical. It may be said, in this
+place, that my wife's mother charged it all to my account. I was
+pronounced the murderer of her husband. On this head I did not reproach
+myself. It was necessary, however, that a reconciliation should take
+place between the father and his child. To this I had, of course, no
+sort of objection. But it will scarce be believed that the miserable
+woman, her mother, opposed herself to their meeting with the utmost
+violence of her character. Nothing but the outcry of the family and all
+its friends--including the excellent physician whose secret services
+had contributed so much toward my happiness--compelled her to give way,
+though still ungraciously, to the earnest entreaty of her daughter
+for permission to see her father before he died! and even then, by the
+death-bed of the unhappy and almost unconscious man, she recommenced the
+scene of abuse and bitter reproach, which, however ample the reader and
+hearer may have already found it, it appears she had left unfinished. It
+was in the midst of a furious tirade, directed against myself, chiefly,
+and Julia, in part, that the spasms of death, unperceived by the mother,
+passed over the contracted muscles of the father's face. The bitter
+speech of the blind woman--blind of heart--was actually finished
+after death had given the final blow to the victim. Of this she had no
+suspicion, until instructed by the piercing shrieks of her daughter, who
+fell swooning upon the corse before her.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+HONEYMOON PERIOD.
+
+
+It was supposed by Julia and certain of her friends that an event so
+solemn, so impressive, and so unexpected, as the death of Mr. Clifford,
+would reasonably affect the mind of his widow; and the concessions which
+I had meditated to address to herself and her late husband were now
+so varied as to apply solely to herself. I took considerable pains
+in preparing my letter, with the view to soften her prejudices and
+asperities, as well as to convince her reason. There was one suggestion
+which Julia was disposed to insist on, to which, however, I was
+singularly averse. In the destitution of Mrs. Clifford, her diminished
+and still diminishing resources, not to speak of her loneliness, she
+thought that I ought to tender her a home with us. Had she been any
+other than the captious, cross-grained creature that she was--bad her
+misfortunes produced only in part their legitimate and desirable effects
+of subduing her perversity--I should have had no sort of objection. But
+I knew her imperious and unreasonable nature; and I may here add,
+that, by this time, I knew something of my own: I was a man of despotic
+character. The constant conflicts which I had had from boyhood,
+resulting as they had done in my frequent successes and final triumph,
+had, naturally enough, made me dictatorial. Sanguine in temperament,
+earnest in character, resolute in impulse, I was necessarily arbitrary
+in mood. It was not likely that Mrs. Clifford would forget her
+waywardnesses, and it was just as unreasonable that I should submit to
+her insolences. Besides, one's home ought to be a very sacred place. It
+is necessary that the peace there should compensate and console for the
+strifes without. To hope for this in any household where there is more
+than one master, would bo worse than idle. Nay, even if there were
+peace, the chances are still great that there would be some lack of
+propriety. Domestic regulations would become inutile. Children and
+servants would equally fail of duty and improvement under conflicting
+authorities; and all the sweet social harmonies of family would be
+jarred away by misunderstandings if not bickerings, leading to coldness,
+suspicion, and irremediable jealousies. These things seemed to threaten
+me from the first moment when Julia submitted to me her desire that her
+mother should be invited to take up her abode with us. I reasoned with
+her against it; suggested all the grounds of objection which I really
+felt; and reviewed at length the long history of our connection from my
+childhood up, which had been distinguished by her constant hostility and
+hate. “How,” I asked, “can it be hoped that there will be any change
+for the better now? She is the same woman, I the same man! It is not
+reasonable to think that the result of our reunion will be other than it
+has been.” But Julia implored.
+
+“I know what you say is reasonable--is just; but, dear Edward, she is my
+mother, and she is alone.”
+
+I yielded to her wishes. Could I else? My letter to her mother concluded
+with a respectful entreaty that she would take apartments in our
+dwelling, and a chair at our table, and lessen, to this extent, the
+expenses of her own establishment.
+
+“What!” exclaimed the frenzied woman to Julia's aunt, to whom the charge
+of presenting the communication was committed--“what! eat the bread of
+that insolent and ungrateful wretch? Never! never!”
+
+She flung the epistle from her with disdain; and, to confess a truth,
+though, on Julia's account, I should have wished a reconciliation, I was
+by no means sorry, on my own, that such was her ultimatum. I gave myself
+little further concern about this foolish person, and was happy to see
+that in a short time my wife appeared to recover from the sadness and
+stupor which the death of her father and the temper of her mother
+had naturally induced. The truth is, she had, for so long a period
+previously to her marriage, suffered from the persecutions of the
+latter, and moaned over the shame and imbecility of the former, that
+her present situation was one of great relief, and, for a while, of
+comparative happiness.
+
+We lived in a pleasant cottage in the suburbs. A broad and placid lake
+spread out before our dwelling; and its tiny billows, under the pressure
+of the sweet southwestern breezes, beat almost against our very doors.
+Green and shady groves environed us on three sides, and sheltered
+us from the intrusive gaze of the highway; and never was a brighter
+collection of flowers and blossoms clustered around any habitation of
+hope and happiness before. I rented the cottage on moderate terms, and
+furnished it neatly, but simply, as became my resources. All things
+considered, the prospect was fair and promising before us. Julia had few
+toils, and ample leisure for painting and music, for both of which she
+had considerable taste; for the former art, in particular, she possessed
+no small talent.
+
+Our city, indeed, seemed one peculiarly calculated for these arts. Our
+sky was blue--deeply, beautifully blue; our climate mild and delightful.
+Our people were singularly endowed with the genius for graceful and
+felicitous performances. Music was an ordinary attribute of the great
+mass; and in no community under the sun was there such an overflow of
+talent in painting and sculpture. It was the grand error of our wise
+heads to fancy that our city could be made one of great trade; and, in
+a vain struggle to give it some commercial superiority over its neighbor
+communities, the wealth of the people was thrown away upon projects
+that yielded nothing; and the arts were left neglected in a region which
+might have been made--and might still be made--if not exclusively,
+at least pre-eminently their own. The ordinary look of the women was
+beauty, the ordinary accent was sweetness. The soft moonlight evenings
+were rendered doubly harmonious by the tender tinkling of the wandering
+guitar, or the tones of the plaintive flute; while, from every third
+dwelling, rose the more stately but scarcely sweeter melodies stricken
+by pliant fingers from the yielding soul of the divine piano. The tastes
+even of the mechanic were refined by this language, the purest In which
+passion ever speaks; and an ambition--the result of the highest tone of
+aristocratic influence upon society--prompted his desires to purposes
+and a position to which in other regions he is not often permitted to
+aspire. These influences were assisted by the peculiar location of
+our city--by its suburban freedom from all closeness; its innumerable
+gardens, the appanage of every household; its piazzas, verandahs,
+porches; its broad and minstrel-wooing rivers; and the majestic and
+evergreen forests, which grew and gathered around us on every hand. If
+ever there was a city intended by nature more particularly than another
+for the abodes and the offices of art, it was ours. It will become so
+yet: the mean, money-loving soul of trade can not always keep it from
+its destinies. We may never see it in our day; but so surely as we live,
+and as it shall live, will it become an Athens in our land--a city of
+empire by the sea, renowned for genius and taste--and the chosen retreat
+of muses, younger and more vigorous, and not less lovely, than the old!
+
+Julia was in a very high degree impregnated with the taste and desire
+for art which seemed so generally the characteristic of our people. I
+speak not now of the degree of skill which she possessed. Her teacher
+was a foreigner, and a mere mechanic; but, while he taught her only the
+ordinary laws of painting, her natural endowment wrought more actively
+in favor of her performances. She soon discovered how much she could
+learn from the little which her teacher knew; and when she made this
+discovery, she ceased to have any use for his assistance. Books, the
+study of the old masters, and such of the new as were available to her,
+served her infinitely more in the prosecution of her efforts; and
+these I stimulated by all means in my power: for I esteemed her natural
+endowments to be very high, and very well knew how usual it is for young
+ladies, after marriage, to give up those tastes and accomplishments
+which had distinguished and heightened their previous charms. It was
+quite enough that I admired the art, and tasked her to its pursuit, to
+make her cling to it with alacrity and love. We wandered together early
+in the morning and at the coming on of evening, over all the sweet,
+enticing scenes which were frequent in our suburbs. Environed by two
+rivers, wide and clear, with deep forests beyond--a broad bay opening
+upon the sea in front--lovely islands of gleaming sand, strewn at
+pleasant intervals, seeming, beneath the transparent moonlight, the
+chosen places of retreat for naiads from the deep and fairies from
+the grove--there was no lack of objects to delight the eye and woo
+the pencil to its performances. Besides, never was blue sky, and
+gold-and-purple sunset, more frequent, more rich, more shifting in its
+shapes and colors, from beauty to superior beauty, than in our latitude.
+The eye naturally turned up to it with a sense of hunger; the mind
+naturally felt the wish to record such hues and aspects for the use of
+venerating love; and the eager spirit, beginning to fancy the vision
+wrought according to its own involuntary wish, seemed spontaneously to
+cry aloud, in the language of the artist, on whom the consciousness of
+genius was breaking with a sun-burst for the first time, “I, too, am a
+painter!”
+
+Julia's studio was soon full of beginnings. Fragmentary landscapes were
+all about her. Like most southrons, she did not like to finish. There is
+an impatience of toil--of its duration at least--in the southern
+mind, which leaves it too frequently unperforming. This is a natural
+characteristic of an excitable people. People easily moved are always
+easily diverted from their objects. People of very vivid fancy are also
+very capricious. There is yet another cause for the non-performance
+of the southern mind--its fastidiousness. In a high state of social
+refinement, the standards of taste become so very exacting, that
+the mind prefers not to attempt, rather than to offend that critical
+judgment which it feels to be equally active in its analysis and rigid
+in its requisitions. Genius and ambition must be independent of
+such restraints. “Be bold, be bold, be bold!” is the language of
+encouragement in Spenser; and when he says, at the end, “Be not too
+bold,” we are to consider the qualification as simply a quiet caution
+not to allow proper courage to rush into rashness and insane license.
+The GENIUS that suffers itself to be fettered by the PRECISE, will
+perhaps learn how to polish marble, but will never make it live, and
+will certainly never live very long itself!
+
+With books and music, painting and flowers, we passed the happy moments
+of the honeymoon. I yielded as little of myself and my mind to my office
+and clients, in that period, as I possibly could. My cottage was
+my paradise. My habits, as might be inferred from my history, were
+singularly domestic. Doomed, as I had been, from my earliest years,
+to know neither friends nor parents; isolated, in my infancy, from
+all those tender ties which impress upon the heart, for all succeeding
+years, tokens of the most endearing affection; denied the smiles of
+those who yet filled my constant sight--my life was a long yearning for
+things of love--for things to love! While the struggle continued between
+Julia's parents and myself, though confiding in her love, I had yet no
+confidence in my own hope to realize and to secure it. Now that it was
+mine--mine, at last--I grew uxorious in its contemplation. Like the
+miser, I had my treasure at home, and I hastened home to survey it with
+precisely the same doubts, and hopes, and fears, which the disease of
+avarice prompts in the unhappy heart of its victim To this disease, in
+chief, I have to attribute all my future sorrows; but the time is not
+yet for that. It is my joys now that I have to contemplate and describe.
+How I dwelt, and how I dreamed! how I seemed to tread on air, in the
+unaccustomed fullness of my spirit! how my whole soul, given up to the
+one pursuit, I fondly fancied had secured its object! I fancied--nay,
+for the time, I was happy! Surely, I was happy!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+THE HAPPY SEASON.
+
+
+Surely, I then was happy! I can not deceive myself as to the character
+of those brief Eden moments of security and peace. Even now, lone as
+I appear in the sight of others--degraded as I feel myself--even now
+I look back on our low white cottage, by the shores of that placid
+lake--its little palings gleaming sweetly through its dense green
+foliage--recall those happy, halcyon days, and feel that we both, for
+the time, had attained the secret--the secret worth all the rest--of an
+enjoyment actually felt, and quite as full, flush, and satisfactory, as
+it had seemed in the perspective. Possession had taken nothing of the
+gusto from hope. Truth had not impaired a single beauty of the ideal.
+I looked in Julia's face at morning when I awakened, and her loveliness
+did not fade. My lips, that drank sweetness from hers, did not cease
+to believe the sweetness to be there--as pure, as warm, as full of
+richness, as when I had only dreamed of their perfections. Our days
+and nights were pure, and gentle, and fond. One twenty-four hours shall
+speak for all.
+
+When we rose at morning, we prepared for a ramble, either into the
+woods, or along the banks of the lovely river that lay west of, and at
+a short distance only from, our dwelling. There, wandering, as the sun
+rose, we imparted to each other's eyes the several objects of beauty
+which his rising glance betrayed. Sometimes we sat beneath a tree, while
+she hurriedly sketched a clump of woods, the winding turn of the shore,
+its occasional crescent form or abrupt headland, as they severally
+appeared in a new light, and at a happy moment of time, beneath our
+vision. The songs of pleasant birds allured us on; the sweet scent of
+pines and myrtle refreshed us; and a gay, wholesome, hearty spirit was
+awakened in our mutual bosoms, as thus, day after day, while, like the
+d&y, our hearts were in their first youth, we resorted to the ever-fresh
+mansions of the sovereign Nature. This habit produces purity of feeling,
+and continues the habit in its earliest simplicity. The childlike laws
+which it encourages and strengthens are those which virtue most loves,
+and which strained forms of society are the first to overthrow. The pure
+tastes of youth are those which are always most dear to humanity; and
+love is easy of access, and peace not often a stranger to the mind,
+where these tastes preserve their ascendency.
+
+My profession was something at variance with these tastes and feelings.
+The very idea of law, which presupposes the frequent occurrence of
+injustice, engenders, by its practice, a habit of suspicion. To throw
+doubt upon the fact, and defeat and prevent convictions of the probable,
+are habits which lawyers soon acquire. This is natural from the daily
+encounter with bad and striving men--men who employ the law as an
+instrument by which to evade right, or inflict wrong; and, this apart,
+the acute mind loves, for its own sake, the very exercise of doubt, by
+which ingenuity is put in practice, and an adroit discrimination kept
+constantly at work.
+
+I was saved, however, from something of this danger. The injustice
+which I had been subjected to, in my own boyhood, had filled me with the
+keenest love for the right. The idea of injustice aroused my sternest
+feelings of resistance. I had adopted the law as a profession with
+something of a patriotic feeling. I felt that I could make it an
+instrument for putting down the oppressor, the wrong-doer--for asserting
+right, and maintaining innocence! I had my admiration, too, at that
+period, of that logical astuteness, that wonderful tenacity of hold and
+pursuit, and discrimination of attribute and subject, which distinguish
+this profession beyond all others, and seem to confirm the assumption
+made in its behalf, by which it has been declared the perfection of
+human reason. It will not be subtracting anything from this estimate,
+if I express my conviction, founded upon my own experience, that, though
+such may be the character of the law as an abstract science, it deserves
+no such encomium as it is ordinarily practised. Lawyers are too commonly
+profound only in the technicalities of the profession; and a very keen
+study and acquaintance with these--certainly a too great reliance upon
+them, and upon the dicta of other lawyers--leads to a dreadful departure
+from elementary principles, and a most woful (sic) disregard, if not
+ignorance, of those profounder sources of knowledge without which laws
+multiply at the expense of reason, and not in support of it; and lawyers
+may be compared to those ignorant captains to whom good ships are
+intrusted, who rely upon continual sounding to grope their way along the
+accustomed shores. Let them once leave the shores, and get beyond
+the reach of their plummets, and the good ship must owe its safety to
+fortune and the favor of the winds, for further skill is none.
+
+I did not find the practice of the law affect my taste for domestic
+pleasures; on the contrary, it stimulated and preserved them. After
+toiling a whole morning in the courts, it was a sweet reprieve to be
+allowed to hurry off to my quiet cottage, and hear the one dear voice
+of my household, and examine the quiet pictures. These never stunned me
+with clamors; I was never pestered by them to determine the meum et tuum
+between noisy disputants, neither of whom is exactly right. There,
+my eye could repose on the sweetest scenes--scenes of beauty and
+freshness-the shady verdure of the woods, the rich variety of flowers,
+and pure, calm, transparent waters, hallowed by the meek glances of the
+matron moon. No creature could have been more gentle than my wife. She
+met me with a composed smile, equally bright and meek. I never heard
+a complaint from her lips. The evils of which other men complain--the
+complaints about servants, scoldings about delay or dinner--never
+reached my ears. The kindest solicitude that, in my fatigue, or amid the
+toils of a business of which wives can know little, and for which they
+make too little allowance, there should be nothing at home to make me
+irritable or give me disquiet, distinguished equally her sense and
+her affection. If it became her duty to communicate any unpleasant
+intelligence--any tidings which might awaken anger or impatience--she
+carefully waited foi the proper time, when the excitement of my blood
+was overcome, and repose of blood and brain had naturally brought about
+a kindred composure of mind.
+
+Our afternoons were usually spent in the shade of the garden or piazza.
+Sometimes, I sat by her while she was sketching. At others, she helped
+me to dress and train my garden-vines. Now and then we renewed our
+rambles of the morning, heedfully observing the different aspects of the
+same scenes and object, which had then delighted us, under the mellowing
+smiles of the sun at its decline. With books, music, and chess, our
+evenings passed away without our consciousness; and day melted into
+night, and night departed and gave place to the new-born day, as quietly
+as if life had, in truth, become to us a great instrument of harmony,
+which bore us over the smooth seas of Time, to the gentle beating of
+fairy and unseen minstrelsy. Truly, then, we were two happy children.
+The older children of this world, stimulated by stronger tastes and
+more lofty indulgences, may smile at the infantile simplicity of such
+resources and modes of enjoyment. They were childish, but perhaps not
+the less wise for that. Infancy lies very near to heaven. Childhood is
+a not unfit study for angels; and happy were it for us could we maintain
+the hearts and the hopes of that innocent period for a longer day within
+our bosoms. In our world we grow too fast, too presumptuously. We live
+on too rich food, moral and intellectual. The artifices of our tastes
+prove most fatally the decline of our reason. But, for us--we two linked
+hearts, so segregated from all beside--we certainly lived the lives
+of children for a while. But we were not to live thus always. In some
+worldly respects, _I_ was still a child: I cared little for its pomps,
+its small honors, its puny efforts, its tinselly displays. But I had
+vices of mind--vices of my own--sufficient to embitter the social world
+where all seems now so sweet--where all, in truth, WAS sweet, and pure,
+and worthy--and which might, under other circumstances, have been kept
+so to the last. I am now to describe a change!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+THE EVIL PRINCIPLE.
+
+
+Heretofore, I have spoken of the blind hearts of others--of Mr. Clifford
+and his wilful wife--I have yet said little to show the blindness of
+my own. This task is now before me, and, with whatever reluctance, the
+exhibition shall resolutely be made. I have described a couple newly
+wed--eminently happy--blessed with tolerable independence--resources
+from without and within--dwelling in the smiles of Heaven, and not
+uncheered by the friendly countenance of man. I am to display the cloud,
+which hangs small at first, a mere speck, but which is to grow to a
+gloomy tempest that is to swallow up the loveliness of the sky, and
+blacken with gloom and sorrow the fairest aspects of the earth. I am to
+show the worm in the bud which is to bring blight--the serpent in the
+garden which is to spoil the Eden. Wo, beyond all other woes, that
+this serpent should be engendered in one's own heart, producing its
+blindness, and finally working its bane! Yet, so it is! The story is a
+painful one to tell; the task is one of self-humiliation. But the truth
+may inform others--may warn, may strengthen, may save--before their
+hearts shall be utterly given up to that blindness which must end in
+utter desperation and irretrievable overthrow.
+
+If the reader has not been utterly unmindful of certain moral
+suggestions which have been thrown out passingly in my previous
+narrative, he will have seen that, constitutionally, I am of an
+ardent, impetuous temper--an active mind, ready, earnest, impatient of
+control--seeking the difficult for its own sake, and delighting in the
+conquest which is unexpected by others.
+
+Such a nature is usually frank and generous. It believes in the
+affections--it depends upon them. It freely gives its own, but
+challenges the equally free and spontaneous gift of yours in return.
+It has little faith in the things which fill the hearts of the mere
+worldlings. Worldly honors may delight it, but not worldly toys. It
+has no veneration for gewgaws. The shows of furniture and of dress it
+despises. The gorgeous equipage is an encumbrance to it; the imposing
+jewel it would not wear, lest it might subtract something from that
+homage which it prefers should be paid to the wearer. It is all
+selfish--thoroughly selfish--but not after the world's fashion of
+selfishness. It hoards nothing, and gives quite as much as it asks. What
+does it ask? What? It asks for love--devoted attachment; the homage of
+the loved one and the friends; the implicit confidence of all around it!
+Ah! can anything be more exacting? Cruelly exacting, if it be not worthy
+of that it asks!
+
+Imagine such a nature, denied from the beginning! The parents of its
+youth are gone!--the brother and the sister--the father and the friend!
+It is destitute, utterly, of these! It is also destitute of those
+resources of fortune which are supposed to be sufficient to command
+them. It is thrown upon the protection, the charge of strangers. Not
+strangers--no! From strangers, perhaps, but little could be expected. It
+is thrown upon the care of relatives--a father's brother! Could the tie
+be nearer? Not well! But it had been better if strangers had been its
+guardians. Then it might have learned to endure more patiently. At
+least, it would have felt less keenly the pangs inflicted by neglect,
+contumely, injustice. In this situation it grows up, like some sapling
+torn from its parent forest, its branches hacked off, its limbs
+lacerated! It grows up in a stranger soil. The sharp winds assail it
+from every quarter. But still it lives--it grows. It grows wildly,
+rudely, ungracefully; but it is strong and tough, in consequence of its
+exposure and its trials. Its vitality increases with every collision
+which shakes and rends it; until, in the pathetic language of relatives
+unhappily burdened with such encumbrances, “it seems impossible to kill
+it!”
+
+I will not say that mine tried to kill me, but I do say that they took
+precious little care that I was not killed. The effect upon my body was
+good, however--the effect of their indifference. This roughening process
+is a part of physical training which very few parents understand. It is
+essential--should be insisted on--but it must not be accompanied with a
+moral roughening, which forces upon the mind of the pupil the conviction
+that the ordeal is meant for his destruction rather than for his
+good. There will be a recoil of the heart--a cruel recoil from the
+humanities--if such a conviction once fills the mind. It was this recoil
+which I felt! With warm affections seeking for objects of love--with
+feelings of hope and veneration, imploring for altars to which to attach
+themselves--I was commanded to go alone. The wilderness alone was open
+to me: what wonder if my heart grew wild and capricious even as that of
+the savage who dwells only amid their cheerless recesses? With a smile
+judiciously bestowed--with a kind word, a gentle tone, an occasional
+voice of earnest encouragement--my uncle and aunt might have fashioned
+my heart at their pleasure. I should have been as clay in the hands
+of the potter--a pliant willow in the grasp of the careful trainer. A
+nature constituted like mine is, of all others, the most flexible; but
+it is also, of all others, the most resisting and incorrigible. Approach
+it with a judicious regard to its affections, and you do with it what
+you please. Let it but fancy that it is the victim of your injustice,
+however slight, and the war is an interminable one between you!
+
+Thus did I learn the first lessons of suspiciousness. They attended
+me to the schoolhouse; they governed and made me watchful there. The
+schoolhouse, the play-places--the very regions of earnest faith and
+unlimited confidence--produced no such effects in me. They might have
+done so, had I ceased, on going to school, to see my relatives any
+longer. But the daily presence of my uncle and aunt, with their system
+of continued injustice, at length rendered my suspicious moods habitual.
+I became shy. I approached nobody, or approached them with doubt and
+watchfulness. I learned, at the earliest period, to look into character,
+to analyze conduct, to pry into the mysterious involutions of the
+working minds around me. I traced, or fancied that I traced, the
+performance to the unexpressed and secret motive in which it had its
+origin. I discovered, or believed that I discovered, that the world
+was divided into banditti and hypocrites. At that day I made little
+allowance for the existence of that larger class than all, who happen
+to be the victims. Unless this were the larger class, the other two must
+very much and very rapidly diminish. My infant philosophy did not carry
+me very deeply into the recesses of my own heart. It was enough that
+I felt some of its dearest rights to be outraged--I did not care to
+inquire whether it was altogether right itself.
+
+At length, there was a glimpse of dawn amid all this darkness. The world
+was not altogether evil. All hearts were not shut against me; and in
+the sweet smiles of Julia Clifford, in her kind attentions, soothing
+assurances, and fond entreaties, there was opportunity, at last, for
+my feelings to overflow. Like a mountain-stream long pent up, which at
+length breaks through its confinements, my affections rushed into the
+grateful channel which her pliant heart afforded me. They were wild, and
+strong, and, devoted, in proportion to their long denial and
+restraint. Was it not natural enough that I should love with no
+ordinary attachment--that my love should be an impetuous
+torrent--all-devoted--struggling, striving--rushing only in the one
+direction--believing, in truth, that there was none other in the world
+in which to run?
+
+This was a natural consequence of the long sophistication of my
+feelings. I knew nothing of the world--of society. I had shared in none
+of its trusts; I had only felt its exactions. Like some country-boy,
+or country-girl, for the first time brought into the great world, I
+surrendered myself wholly to the first gratified impulse. I made no
+conditions, no qualifications. I set all my hopes of heart upon a single
+cast of the die, and did not ask what might be the consequences if the
+throw was unfortunate.
+
+One of the good effects of a free communication of the young with
+society is, to lessen the exacting nature of the affections. People
+who live too much to themselves--in their own centre, and for their own
+single objects--become fastidious to disease. They ask too much from
+their neighbors. Willing to surrender their OWN affections at a glance,
+they fancy the world wanting in sensibility when they find that their
+readiness in this respect fails to produce a corresponding readiness in
+others. This is the natural history of that enthusiasm which is thrown
+back upon itself and is chilled by denial. The complaint of coldness and
+selfishness against the world is very common among very young or very
+inexperienced men. The world gets a bad character, simply because it
+refuses to lavish its affections along the highways--simply because
+it is cautious in giving its trusts, and expects proofs of service and
+actual sympathy rather than professions. Men like myself, of a warm,
+impetuous nature, complain of the heartlessness of mankind. They fancy
+themselves peculiarly the victims of an unkind destiny in this respect;
+and finally cut their throats in a moment of frenzy, or degenerate
+into a cynicism that delights in contradictions, in sarcasms, in
+self-torture, and the bitterest hostility to their neighbors.
+
+Society itself is the only and best corrective of this unhappy
+disposition. The first gift to the young, therefore, should be the
+gift of society. By this word society, however, I do not mean a set,
+a clique, a pitiable little circle. Let the sphere of movement
+be sufficiently extended--as large as possible--that the means of
+observation and thought may be sufficiently comprehensive, and no
+influences from one man or one family shall be suffered to give the bias
+to the immature mind and inexperienced judgment. In society like this,
+the errors, prejudices, weaknesses, of one man, are corrected by a
+totally opposite form of character in another. The mind of the youth
+hesitates. Hesitation brings circumspection, watchfulness; watchfulness,
+discrimination; discrimination, choice; and a capacity to choose implies
+the attainment of a certain degree of deliberateness and judgment with
+which the youth may be permitted to go upon his way, supposed to be
+provided for in the difficult respect of being able henceforward to take
+care of himself.
+
+I had no society--knew nothing of society--saw it at a distance, under
+suspicious circumstances, and was myself an object of its suspicion. Its
+attractions were desirable to me, but seemed unattainable. It required
+some sacrifices to obtain its entrée, and these sacrifices were the very
+ones which my independence would not allow me to make. My independence
+was my treasure, duly valued in proportion to the constant strife by
+which it was assailed. I had that! THAT could not be taken from me. THAT
+kept me from sinking into the slave the tool, the sycophant, perhaps
+the brute; THAT prompted me to hard study in secret places; THAT
+strengthened my heart, when, desolate and striving against necessity, I
+saw nothing of the smiles of society, and felt nothing of the bounties
+of life. Then came my final emancipation--my success--my triumph! My
+independence was assailed no longer. My talents were no longer doubted
+or denied. My reluctant neighbors sent in their adhesion. My uncle
+forbore his sneers. Lastly, and now--Julia was mine! My heart's desires
+were all gratified as completely as my mind's ambition!
+
+Was I happy? The inconsiderate mind will suppose this very
+probable--will say, I should be. But evil seeds that are planted in
+the young heart grow up with years--not so rapidly or openly as to
+offend--and grow to be poisonous weeds with maturity. My feelings were
+too devoted, too concentrative, too all-absorbing, to leave me happy,
+even when they seemed gratified. The man who has but a single jewel in
+the world, is very apt to labor under a constant apprehension of its
+loss. He who knows but one object of attachment--whose heart's devotion
+turns evermore but to one star of all the countless thousands in the
+heavens--wo is he, if that star be shrouded from his gaze in the sudden
+overflow of storms!--still more wo is he, when that star withdraws, or
+seems to withdraw, its corresponding gaze, or turns it elsewhere upon
+another worshipper! See you not the danger which threatened me? See you
+not that, never having been beloved before--never having loved but the
+one--I loved that one with all my heart, with all my soul, with all
+my strength; and required from that one the equal love of heart,
+soul, strength? See you not that my love--linked with impatient mind,
+imperious blood, impetuous enthusiasm, and suspicious fear--was a
+devotion exacting as the grave--searching as fever--as jealous of the
+thing whose worship it demands as God is said to be of ours?
+
+Mine was eminently a jealous heart! On this subject of jealousy, men
+rarely judge correctly. They speak of Othello as jealous--Othello, one
+of the least jealous of all human natures! Jealousy is a quality that
+needs no cause. It makes its own cause. It will find or make occasion
+for its exercise, in the most innocent circumstances. The PROOFS that
+made Othello wretched and revengeful, were sufficient to have deceived
+any jury under the sun. He had proofs. He had a strong case to go upon.
+It would have influenced any judgment. He did not seek or find these
+proofs for himself. He did not wish to find them. He was slow to see
+them. His was not jealousy. His error was that of pride and self-esteem.
+He was outraged in both. His mistake was in being too prompt of action
+in a case which admitted of deliberation. This was the error of a
+proud man, a soldier, prompt to decide, prompt to act, and to punish if
+necessary. But never was human character less marked by a jealous mood
+than that of Othello. His great self-esteem was, of itself, a sufficient
+security against jealousy. Mine might have been, had it not been so
+terribly diseased by ill-training.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+PRESENTIMENTS.
+
+
+Without apprehending the extent of my own weakness, the forms that it
+would take, or the tyrannies that it would inflict, I was still not
+totally uninformed on the subject of my peculiar character; and,
+fearing then rather that I might pain my wife by some of its wanton
+demonstrations, than that she would ever furnish me with, an occasion
+for them, I took an opportunity, a few evenings after our marriage, to
+suggest to her the necessity of regarding my outbreaks with an indulgent
+eye.
+
+My heart had been singularly softened by the most touching associations.
+We sat together in our piazza, beneath a flood of the richest and
+balmiest moonlight, screened only from its silvery blaze by interposing
+masses of the woodbine, mingled with shoots of oleander, arbor-vitae,
+and other shrub-trees. The mild breath of evening sufficed only to lift
+quiveringly their green leaves and glowing blossoms, to stir the hair
+upon our cheeks, and give to the atmosphere that wooing freshness which
+seems so necessary a concomitant of the moonlight. The hand of Julia
+was in mine. There were few words spoken between us; love has its own
+sufficing language, and is content with that consciousness that all is
+right which implores no other assurances. Julia had just risen from
+the piano: we had both been touched with a deeper sense of the thousand
+harmonies in nature, by listening to those of Rossini; and now, gazing
+upon some transparent, fleecy, white clouds that were slowly pressing
+forward in the path of the moonlight, as if in duteous attendance upon
+some maiden queen, our mutual minds were busied in framing pictures from
+the fine yet fantastic forms that glowed, gathering on our gaze. I felt
+the hand of Julia trembling in my own. Her head sank upon my shoulder; I
+felt a warm drop fall from her eyes upon my hand, and exclaimed--
+
+“Julia, you weep! wherefore do you weep, dear wife?”
+
+“With joy, my husband! My heart is full of joy. I am so happy, I can
+only weep. Ah! tears alone speak for the true happiness.”
+
+“Ah! would it last, Julia--would it last!”
+
+“Oh, doubt not that it will last. Why should it not t What have we to
+fear?”
+
+Mine was a serious nature. I answered sadly, if not gloomily:--
+
+“Because it is a joy of life that we feel, and it must share the
+vicissitudes of life.”
+
+“True, true, but love is a joy of eternal life as well as of this.”
+
+There was a beautiful and consoling truth in this one little sentence,
+which my self-absorption was too great, at the time, to suffer me to
+see. Perhaps even she herself was not fully conscious of the glorious
+and pregnant truth which lay at the bottom of what she said. Love is,
+indeed, not merely a joy of eternal life: it is THE joy of eternal
+life!--its particular joy--a dim shadow of which we sometimes feel in
+this--pure, lasting, comparatively perfect, the more it approaches, in
+its performances and its desires, the divine essence, of which it is so
+poor a likeness. We should so live, so love, as to make the one run into
+the other, even as a small river runs down, through a customary channel,
+into the great deeps of the sea. Death should be to the affections
+a mere channel through which they pass into a natural, a necessary
+condition, where their streams flow with more freedom, and over which,
+harmoniously controlling, as powerful, the spirit of love broods ever
+with “dovelike wings outspread.” I answered, still gloomily, in the
+customary world commonplaces:--
+
+“We must expect the storm. It will not be moonlight always. We must look
+for the cloud. Age, sickness, death!--ah! do these not follow on our
+footsteps, ever unerring, certain always, but so often rapid? Soon,
+how soon, they haunt us in the happiest moments--they meet us at every
+corner! They never altogether leave us.”
+
+“Enough, dear husband. Dwell not upon these gloomy thoughts. Ah! why
+should you--NOW?'
+
+“I will not; but there are others, Julia.”
+
+“What others? Evils?”
+
+“Sadder evils yet than these.”
+
+“Oh, no!--I hope not.”
+
+“Coldness of the once warm heart. The chill of affection in the loved
+one. Estrangement--indifference!--ah, Julia!”
+
+“Impossible, Edward! This can not, MUST not be, with us You do not think
+that I could be cold to you; and you--ah! surely YOU will never cease to
+love me?”
+
+“Never, I trust, never!”
+
+“No! you must not--SHALL not. Oh, Edward, let me die first before such
+a fear should fill my breast. You I love, as none was loved before.
+Without your love, I am nothing. If I can not hang upon you, where can I
+hang?”
+
+And she clung to me with a grasp as if life and death depended on it,
+while her sobs, as from a full heart, were insuppressible in spite of
+all her efforts.
+
+“Fear nothing, dearest Julia: do you not believe that I love you?”
+
+“Ah! if I did not, Edward--”
+
+“It is with you always to make me love you. You are as completely the
+mistress of my whole heart as if it had acknowledged no laws but yours
+from the beginning.”
+
+“What am I to do, dear Edward?”
+
+“Forbear--be indulgent--pity me and spare me!”
+
+“What mean you, Edward?”
+
+“That heart which is all and only yours, Julia, is yet, I am assured,
+a wilful and an erring heart! I feel that it is strange, wayward,
+sometimes unjust to others, frequently to itself. It is a cross-grained,
+capricious heart; you will find its exactions irksome.”
+
+“Oh, I know it better. You wrong yourself.”
+
+“No! In the solemn sweetness of this hour, dear Julia--now, while all
+things are sweet to our eyes, all things dear to our affections--I
+feel a chill of doubt and apprehension come over me. I am so happy--so
+unusually happy--that I can not feel sure that I am so--that my
+happiness will continue long. I will try, on my own part, to do nothing
+by which to risk its loss. But I feel that I am too wilful, at times,
+to be strong in keeping a resolution which is so very necessary to our
+mutual happiness. You must help--you must strengthen me, Julia.”
+
+“Oh, yes! but how? I will do anything--be anything.”
+
+“I am capricious, wayward; at times, full of injustice. Love me not
+less that I am so--that I sometimes show this waywardness to you--that
+I sometimes do injustice to your love. Bear with me till the dark mood
+passes from my heart. I have these moods, or have had them, frequently.
+It may be--I trust it will be--that, blessed with your love, and secure
+in its possession, there will be no room in my heart for such ugly
+feelings. But I know not. They sometimes take supreme possession of me.
+They seize upon me in all places. They wrap my spirit as in a cloud.
+I sit apart. I scowl upon those around me. I feel moved to say bitter
+things--to shoot darts in defiance at every glance--to envenom every
+sentence which I speak. These are cruel moods. I have striven vainly
+to shake them off. They have grown up with my growth--have shared in
+whatever strength I have; and, while they embitter my own thoughts and
+happiness, I dread that they will fling their shadow upon yours!”
+
+She replied with gayety, with playfulness, but there was an effort in
+it.
+
+“Oh, you make the matter worse than it is. I suppose all that troubles
+you is the blues. But you will never have them again. When I see them
+coming on I will sit by you and sing to you. We will come out here and
+watch the evening; or you shall read to me, or we will ramble in the
+garden--or--a thousand things which shall make you forget that there was
+ever such a thing in the world as sorrow.”
+
+“Dear Julia--will you do this?”
+
+“More--everything to make you happy.” And she drew me closer in her
+embrace, and her lips with a tremulous, almost convulsive sweetness,
+were pressed upon my forehead; and clinging there, oh! how sweetly did
+she weep!
+
+“You will tire of my waywardness--of my exactions. Ah! I shall force you
+from my side by my caprice.”
+
+“You can not, Edward, if you would,” she replied, in mournful accents
+like my own, “I have no remedy against you! I have nobody now to whom to
+turn. Have _I_ not driven all from my side--all but you?”
+
+It was my task to soothe her now.
+
+“Nay, Julia, be not you sorrowful. You must continue glad and blest,
+that you may conquer my sullen moods, my dark presentiments. When I tell
+you of the evils of my temper, I tell you of occasional clouds only.
+Heaven forbid that they should give an enduring aspect to our heavens!”
+
+She responded fervently to my ejaculation. I continued:--
+
+“I have only sought to prepare you for the management of my arbitrary
+nature, to keep you from suffering too much, and sinking beneath its
+exactions. You will bear with me patiently. Forgive me for my evil
+hours. Wait till the storm has overblown; and find me your own, then,
+as much as before; and let me feel that you are still mine--that the
+tempest has not separated our little vessels.”
+
+“Will I not? Ah! do not fear for me, Edward. It is a happiness for me to
+weep here--here, in your arms. When you are sad and moody, I will come
+as now.”
+
+“What if I repulse you?”
+
+“You will not--no, no!--you will not.”
+
+“But if I do I Suppose---”
+
+“Ah! it is hard to suppose that. But I will not heed it. I will come
+again.”
+
+“And again?”
+
+“And again!”
+
+“Then you will conquer, Julia. I feel that you will conquer! You will
+drive out the devils. Surely, then, I shall be incorrigible no longer.”
+
+Such was my conviction then. I little knew myself.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+DISTRUST.
+
+
+I little knew myself! This knowledge of one's self is the most important
+knowledge, which very few of us acquire. We seldom look into our own
+hearts for other objects than those which will administer to their petty
+vanities and passing triumphs. Could we only look there sometimes for
+the truth! But we are blind--blind all! In some respects I was one of
+the blindest!
+
+I have given a brief glimpse of our honeymoon. Perhaps, as the world
+goes, the picture is by no means an attractive one. Quiet felicity forms
+but a small item in the sources of happiness, now-a-days, among young
+couples. Mine was sufficiently quiet and sufficiently humble. One would
+suppose that he who builds so lowly should have no reason to apprehend
+the hurricane. Social ambition was clearly no object with either of us.
+We sighed neither for the glitter nor the regards of fashionable life.
+Neither upon fine houses, jewels, or equipages, did we set our hearts.
+For the pleasures of the table I had no passion, and never was young
+woman so thoroughly regardless of display as Julia Clifford. To be let
+alone--to be suffered to escape in our own way, unharming, unharmed,
+through the dim avenues of life--was assuredly all that we asked from
+man. Perhaps--I say it without cant--this, perhaps, was all that we
+possibly asked from heaven. This was all that I asked, at least,
+and this was much. It was asking what had never yet been accorded to
+humanity. In the vain assumption of my heart I thought that my demands
+were moderate.
+
+Let no man console himself with the idea that his chances of success are
+multiplied in degree with the insignificance, or seeming insignificance,
+of his aims. Perhaps the very reverse of this is the truth. He who
+seeks for many objects of enjoyment--whose tastes are diversified--has
+probably the very best prospect that some of them may be gratified. He
+is like the merchant whose ventures on the sea are divided among many
+vessels. He may lose one or more, yet preserve the main bulk of
+his fortune from the wreck. But he who has only a single bark--one
+freightage, however costly--whose whole estate is invested in the one
+venture--let him lose that, and all is lost. It does not matter that
+his loss, speaking relatively, is but little. Suppose his shipment, in
+general estimation, to be of small value. The loss to him is so much
+the greater. It was the dearer to him because of its insignificance, and
+being all that he had; is quite as conclusive of his ruin, as would be
+the foundering of every vessel which the rich merchant sent to sea.
+
+I was one of these petty traders. I invested my whole capital of the
+affections in one precious jewel. Did I lose it, or simply fear its
+loss? Time must show. But, of a truth, I felt as the miser feels with
+his hoarded treasure. While I watched its richness and beauty, doubts
+and dread beset me. Was it safe? Everything depended upon its security.
+Thieves might break in and steal. Enough, for the present, to say, that
+much of my security, and of the security of all who, like me, possess
+a dear treasure, depends upon our convictions of security. He who
+apprehends loss, is already robbed. The reality is scarcely worse than
+the hourly anticipation of it.
+
+My friends naturally became the visitors of my family. Certain of the
+late Mrs. Clifford's friends were also ours. Our circle was sufficiently
+large for those who already knew how to distinguish between the safe
+pleasures of a small set, and the horse-play and heartless enjoyments
+of fashionable jams. Were we permitted in this world to live only for
+ourselves, we should have been perfectly gratified had this been even
+less. We should have been very well content to have gone on from day to
+day without ever beholding the shadow of a stranger upon our threshold.
+
+This was not permitted, however. We had a round of congratulatory
+visits. Among those who came, the first were the old, long-tried friends
+to whom I owed so much--the Edgertons. No family could have been more
+truly amiable than this; and William Edgerton was the most amiable of
+the family. I have already said enough to persuade the reader that he
+was a very worthy man. He was more. He was a principled one. Not very
+highly endowed, perhaps, he was yet an intelligent gentleman. None could
+be more modest in expression--none less obtrusive in deportment--none
+more generous in service. The defects in his character were organic--not
+moral. He had no vices--no vulgarities. But his temperament was an
+inactive one. He was apt to be sluggish, and when excited was nervous.
+He was not irritable, but easily discomposed. His tastes were active at
+the expense of his genius. With ability, he was yet unperforming. His
+standards were morbidly fastidious. Fearing to fall below them, he
+desisted until the moment of action was passed for ever; and the feeling
+of his own weakness, in this respect, made him often sad, but to do him
+justice, never querulous.
+
+With a person so constituted, the delicate tastes and sensibilities are
+like to be indulged in a very high degree. William Edgerton loved music
+and all the quiet arts. Painting was his particular delight. He himself
+sketched with great spirit. He had the happy eye for the tout ensemble
+in a fine landscape. He knew exactly how much to take in and what to
+leave out, in the delineation of a lovely scene. This is a happy talent
+for discrimination which the ordinary artist does not possess. It is the
+capacity which, in the case of orators and poets, informs them of
+the precise moment when they should stop. It is the happiest sort of
+judgment, since, though the artist may be neither very excellent in
+drawing, nor very felicitous in color, it enables him always to bestow a
+certain propriety on his picture which compensates, to a certain degree,
+for inferiority in other respects. To know how to grasp objects with
+spirit, and bestow them with a due regard to mutual dependence, is one
+of the most exquisite faculties of the landscape-painter.
+
+William Edgerton, had he been forced by necessity to have made the art
+of painting his profession would have made for himself a reputation
+of no inferior kind. But amateur art, like amateur literature, rarely
+produces any admirable fruits. Complete success only attends the devotee
+to the muse. The worship must be exclusive at her altar; the attendance
+constant and unremitting. There must be no partial, no divided homage.
+She is a jealous mistress, like all the rest. The lover of her charms,
+if he would secure her smiles, must be a professor at her shrine. He can
+not come and go at pleasure. She resents such impertinence by neglect.
+In plain terms, the fine arts must be made a business by those who
+desire their favor. Like law, divinity, physic, they constitute a
+profession of their own; require the same diligent endeavor, close
+study, fond pursuit! William Edgerton loved painting, but his business
+was the law. He loved painting too much to love his profession. He gave
+too much of his time to the law to be a successful painter--too much
+time to painting to be a lawyer. He was nothing! At the bar he never
+rose a step after the first day, when, together, we appeared in our
+mutual maiden case; and contenting himself with the occasional execution
+of a landscape, sketchy and bold, but without finish, he remained
+in that nether-land of public consideration, unable to grasp the
+certainties of either pursuit at which he nevertheless was constantly
+striving; striving, however, with that qualified degree of effort,
+which, if it never could secure the prize, never could fatigue him much
+with the endeavor to do so.
+
+He was perfectly delighted when he first saw some of the sketches of my
+wife. He had none of that little jealousy which so frequently impairs
+the temper and the worth of amateurs. He could admire without prejudice,
+and praise without reserve. He praised them. He evidently admired them.
+He sought every occasion to see them, and omitted none in which to
+declare his opinion of their merits. This, in the first pleasant season
+of my marriage--when the leaves were yet green and fresh upon the tree
+of love--was grateful to my feelings. I felt happy to discover that my
+judgment had not erred in the selection of my wife. I stimulated her
+industry that I might listen to my friend's eulogy. I suggested subjects
+for her pencil. I fitted up an apartment especially as a studio for her
+use. I bought her some fine studies, lay figures, heads in marble and
+plaster; and lavished, in this way, the small surplus fund which had
+heretofore accrued from my professional industry, and that personal
+frugality with which it was accompanied.
+
+William Edgerton was now for ever at our house. He brought his own
+pictures for the inspection of my wife. He sometimes painted in her
+studio. He devised rural and aquatic parties with sole reference to
+landscape scenery and delineation; and indifferent to the law always,
+he now abandoned himself almost entirely to those tastes which seemed to
+have acquired of a sudden, the strangest and the strongest impulse.
+
+In this--at least for a considerable space of time--I saw nothing very
+remarkable. I knew his tastes previously. I had seen how little disposed
+he was to grapple earnestly with the duties of his profession; and did
+not conceive it surprising, that, with family resources sufficient to
+yield him pecuniary independence, he should surrender himself up to the
+luxurious influence of tastes which were equally lovely in themselves,
+and natural to the first desires of his mind. But when for days he was
+missed from his office--when the very hours of morning which are most
+religiously devoted by the profession to its ostensible if not earnest
+pursuit, were yielded up to the easel--and when, overlooking the
+boundaries which, according to the conventional usage, made such a
+course improper, he passed many of these mornings at my house, during my
+absence, I began to entertain feelings of disquietude.
+
+For these I had then no name. The feelings were vague and indefinable,
+but not the less unpleasant. I did not fancy for a moment that I was
+wronged, or likely to be wronged, but I felt that he was doing wrong.
+Then, too, I had my misgivings of what the world would think! I did not
+fancy that he had any design to wrong me; but there seemed to me a cruel
+want of consideration in his conduct. But what annoyed me most was,
+that Julia should receive him at such periods He was thoughtless,
+enthusiastic in art, and thoughtless, perhaps, in consequence of his
+enthusiasm. But I expected that she should think for both of us in such
+a case. Women, alone, can be the true guardians of appearances where
+they themselves are concerned; and it was matter of painful surprise to
+me that she should not have asked herself the question: “What will the
+neighbors think, during my husband's absence, to see a stranger, a
+young man, coming to visit me with periodical regularity, morning after
+morning?”
+
+That she did not ask herself this question should have been a very
+strong argument to show me that her thoughts were all innocent. But
+there is a terrible truth in what Caesar said of his wife's reputation:
+“She must be free from suspicion.” She must not only do nothing wrong,
+but she must not suffer or do anything which might incur the suspicion
+of wrong doing. There is nothing half so sensible to the breath
+of calumny, as female reputation, particularly in regions of high
+civilization, where women are raised to an artificial rank of respect,
+which obviates, in most part, the obligations of their dependence upon
+man, but increases, in due proportion, some of their responsibilities
+to him. Poor Julia had no circumspection, because she had no feeling of
+evil. I believe she was purity itself; I equally believe that William
+Edgerton was quite incapable of evil design. But when I came from my
+office, the first morning that he had thus passed at my house in my
+absence, and she told me that he had been there, and how the time had
+been spent, I felt a pang, like a sharp arrow, suddenly rush into my
+brain. Julia had no reserve in telling me this fact. It was a subject
+she seemed pleased to dwell upon. She narrated with the earnest,
+unseeing spirit of a self-satisfied child, the sort of conversation
+which had taken place between them--praised Edgerton's taste, his
+delicacy, his subdued, persuasive manners, and showed herself as utterly
+unsophisticated as any Swiss mountain-girl who voluntarily yields the
+traveller a kiss, and tells her mother of it afterward. I listened with
+chilled manners and a troubled mind.
+
+“You are unwell, Edward,” she remarked tenderly, approaching and
+throwing her arms around my neck, as she perceived the gradual gathering
+of that cloud upon my brows.
+
+“Why do you think so, Julia?”
+
+“Oh, you look so sad--almost severe, Edward, and your words are so few
+and cold. Have I offended you, dear Edward?”
+
+I was confused at this direct question. I felt annoyed, ashamed. I
+pleaded headache in justification of my manner--it did ache, and my
+heart, too, but not with the ordinary pang; and I felt a warm blush
+suffuse my cheek, as I yielded to the first suggestion which prompted me
+to deceive my wife.
+
+A large leading step was thus taken, and progress was easy afterward.
+
+Oh! sweet spirit of confidence, thou only true saint, more needful than
+all, to bind the ties of kindred and affection! why art thou so prompt
+to fly at the approach of thy cold, dark enemy, distrust? Why dost thou
+yield the field with so little struggle? Why, when the things, dearest
+to thee of all in the world's gift--its most valued treasure, its
+purest, sweetest, and proudest trophies--why, when these are the stake
+which is to reward thy courage, thy adherence, to compensate thee for
+trial, to console thee for loss and outrage--why is it that thou art so
+ready to despond of the cause so dear to thee, and forfeit the conquest
+by which alone thy whole existence is made sweet. This is the very
+suicide of self. Fearful of loss, we forsake the prize, which we have
+won; and hearkening to the counsel of a natural enemy, eat of that
+bitter fruit which banishes for ever from our lips the sweet savor which
+we knew before, and without which, no savor that is left is sweet.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+PROGRESS OF THE EVIL SPIRIT.
+
+
+If I felt so deeply annoyed at the first morning visit which William
+Edgerton paid to my wife, what was my annoyance when these visits became
+habitual. I was miserable but could not complain. I was ashamed of
+the language of complaint on such a subject. There is something very
+ridiculous in the idea of a jealous husband--it has always provoked
+the laughter of the world; and I was one of those men who shrunk from
+ridicule with a more than mortal dread. Besides, I really felt no alarm.
+I had the utmost confidence in my wife's virtue. I had not the less
+confidence in that of Edgerton. But I was jealous of her deference--of
+her regard--for another. She was, in my eyes, as something sacred, set
+apart--a treasure exclusively my own! Should it be that another should
+come to divide her veneration with me? I was vexed that she should
+derive satisfaction from another source than myself. This satisfaction
+she derived from the visits of Edgerton. She freely avowed it.
+
+“How amiable--how pleasant he is,” she would say, in the perfect
+innocence of her heart; “and really, Edward, he has so much talent!”
+
+These praises annoyed me. They were as so much wormwood to my spirit. It
+must be remembered that I was not myself what the world calls an amiable
+man. I doubt if any, even of my best friends, would describe me as a
+pleasant one. I was a man of too direct and earnest a temperament
+to establish a claim, in reasonable degree, to either of these
+characteristics. I was, accordingly, something blunt in my address--the
+tones of my voice were loud--my manner was all empressement, except when
+I was actually angry, and then it was cold hard, dry, inflexible. I was
+the last person in the world to pass for an amiable. Now, Julia, on the
+other hand, was quiet, subdued, timorous--the tones of a strong, decided
+voice startled her--she shrunk from controversy--yielded always with
+a happy grace in anticipation of the conflict, and showed, in all
+respects, that nice, almost nervous organization which attaches the
+value of principles and morals to mere manners, and would be as much
+shocked, perhaps, at the expression of a rudeness, as at the commission
+of a sin. Not that such persons would hold a sin to be less criminal or
+innocuous than would we ourselves; but that they regard mere conduct as
+of so much more importance.
+
+When, therefore, she praised William Edgerton for those qualities which
+I well knew I did not possess, I could not resist the annoyance. My
+self-esteem--continually active--stimulated as it had been by the
+constant moral strife, to which it had been subjected from boyhood--was
+continually apprehending disparagement. Of the purity of Julia's heart,
+and the chastity of her conduct, the very freedom of her utterance was
+conclusive. Had she felt one single improper emotion toward William
+Edgerton, her lips would never have voluntarily uttered his name, and
+never in the language of applause. On this head I had not then the
+slightest apprehension. It was not jealousy so much as EGOISME that was
+preying upon me. Whatever it was, however, it could not be repressed as
+I listened to the eulogistic language of my wife. I strove, but
+could not subdue, altogether, the evil spirit which was fast becoming
+predominant within me. Yet, though speaking under its immediate
+influence, I was very far from betraying its true nature. My egoisme
+had not yet made such advances as to become reckless and incautious. I
+surprised her by my answer to her eulogies.
+
+“I have no doubt he is amiable--he is amiable--but that is not enough
+for a man. He must be something more than amiable, if he would escape
+the imputation of being feeble--something more if he would be anything!”
+
+Julia looked at me with eyes of profound and dilating astonishment.
+Having got thus far, it was easy to advance. The first step is half the
+journey in all such cases.
+
+“William Edgerton is a little too amiable, perhaps, for his own good.
+It makes him listless and worthless. He will do nothing at pictures,
+wasting his time only when he should be at his business.”
+
+“But did I not understand you, Edward, that he was a man of fortune, and
+independent of his profession?” she answered timidly.
+
+“Even that will not justify a man in becoming a trifler. No man should
+waste his time in painting, unless he makes a trade of it.”
+
+“But his leisure, Edward,” suggested Julia, with a look of increasing
+timidity.
+
+“His leisure, indeed, Julia;--but he has been here all day--day after
+day. If painting is such a passion with him, let him abandon law and
+take to it. But he should not pursue one art while processing another.
+It is as if a man hankered after that which he yet lacked the courage to
+challenge and pursue openly.'
+
+“I don't think you love pictures as you used to, Edward,” she remarked
+to me, after a little interval passed in unusual silence.
+
+“Perhaps it is because I have matters of more consequence to attend to.
+YOU seem sufficiently devoted to them now to excuse my indifference.”
+
+“Surely, dear Edward, something I have done vexes you. Tell me, husband.
+Do not spare me. Say, in what have I offended?”
+
+I had not the courage to be ingenuous. Ah! if I had!
+
+“Nay, you have not offended,” I answered hastily--“I am only worried
+with some unmanageable thoughts. The law, you know, is full of
+provoking, exciting, irritating necessities.”
+
+She looked at ne with a kind but searching glance. My soul seemed to
+shrink from that scrutiny. My eyes sunk beneath her gaze.
+
+“I wish I knew how to console you, Edward: to make you entirely happy.
+I pray for it, Edward. I thought we were always to be so happy. Did
+you not promise me that you would always leave your cares at your
+office--that our cottage should be sacred to love and peace only?”
+
+She put her arms about my neck, and looked into my face with such a
+sweet, strange, persuasive smile--half mirth, half sadness--that
+the evil spirit was subdued within me. I clasped her fervently in my
+embrace, with all my old feelings of confidence and joy renewed. At
+this moment the servant announced Mr. Edgerton, and with a start--a
+movement--scarcely as gentle as it should have been, I put the fond and
+still beloved woman from my embrace!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+CHANGES OF HOME.
+
+
+From this time my intercourse with William Edgerton was, on my part, one
+of the most painful and difficult constraint. I had nothing to reproach
+him with; no grounds whatever for quarrel; and could not, in his
+case--regarding the long intimacy which I had maintained with himself
+and father, and the obligations which were due from me to both--adopt
+such a manner of reserve and distance as to produce the result of
+indifference and estrangement which I now anxiously desired. I was
+still compelled to meet him--meet him, too, with an affectation of good
+feeling and good humor, which I soon found it, of all things in the
+world, the most difficult even to pretend. How much would I have given
+could he only have provoked me to anger on any ground--could he
+have given me an occasion for difference of any sort or to any
+degree--anything which could have justified a mutual falling off from
+the old intimacy! But William Edgerton was meekness and kindness
+itself. His confidence in me was of the most unobservant, suspicionless
+character; either that, or I succeeded better than I thought in the
+effort to maintain the external aspects of old friendship. He saw
+nothing of change in my deportment. He seemed not to see it, at least;
+and came as usual, or more frequently than usual, to my house, until, at
+length, the studio of my wife was quite as much his as hers--nay, more;
+for, after a brief space, whether it was that Julia saw what troubled
+me, or felt herself the imprudence of Edgerton's conduct, she almost
+entirely surrendered it to him. She was not now so often to be seen in
+it.
+
+This proceeding alarmed me. I dreaded lest my secret should be
+discovered. I was shocked lest my wife should suppose me jealous. The
+feeling is one which carries with it a sufficiently severe commentary,
+in the fact that most men are heartily ashamed to be thought to suffer
+from it. But, if it vexed me to think that she should know or suspect
+the truth, how much more was I troubled lest it should be seen or
+suspected by others! This fear led to new circumspection. I now affected
+levities of demeanor and remark; studiously absented myself from home
+of an evening, leaving my wife with Edgerton, or any other friend who
+happened to be present; and, though I began no practices of profligacy,
+such as are common to young scapegraces in all times, I yet, to some
+moderate extent, affected them.
+
+A tone of sadness now marked the features of my wife. There was an
+expression of anxiety in her countenance, which, amid all her previous
+sufferings, I had never seen there before. She did not complain; but
+sometimes, when we sat alone together, I reading, perhaps, and she
+sewing, she would drop her work in her lap, and sigh suddenly and
+deeply, as if the first shadows of the upgathering gloom were beginning
+to cloud her young and innocent spirit, and force her apprehensions
+into utterance. This did not escape me, but I read its signification, as
+witches are said to read the Bible, backward. A gloomier fancy filled my
+brain as I heard her unconscious sigh.
+
+“It is the language of regret. She laments our marriage. She could have
+found another, surely, who could have made her happier. Perhaps, had
+Edgerton and herself known each other intimately before!--”
+
+Dark, perverse imagining! It crushed me. I felt, I can not tell,
+what bitterness. Let no one suppose that I endured less misery than I
+inflicted. The miseries of the damned could not have exceeded mine in
+some of the moments when these cruel conjectures filled my mind. Then
+followed some such proofs as these of the presence of the Evil One:--
+
+“You sigh, Julia. You are unhappy.”
+
+“Unhappy? no, dear Edward, not unhappy! What makes you think so?”
+
+“What makes you sigh, then?”
+
+“I do not know. I am certainly not unhappy. Did I sigh, Edward?”
+
+“Yes, and seemingly from the very bottom of your heart. I fear, Julia,
+that you are not happy; nay, I am sure you are not! I feel that I am not
+the man to make you happy. I am a perverse--”
+
+“'Nay, Edward, now you speak so strangely, and your brow is stern,
+and your tones tremble! What can it be afflicts you? You are angry at
+something, dear Edward. Surely, it can not be with me.”
+
+“And if it were, Julia, I am afraid it would give you little concern.”
+
+“Now, Edward, you are cruel. You do me wrong. You do yourself wrong.
+Why should you suppose that it would give me little concern to see you
+angry? So far from this, I should regard it as the greatest misery which
+I had to suffer. Do not speak so, dearest Edward--do not fancy such
+things. Believe me, my husband, when I tell you that I know nothing half
+so dear to me as your love--nothing that I would not sacrifice with a
+pleasure, to secure, to preserve THAT!”
+
+“Ah! would you give up painting?”
+
+“Painting! that were a small sacrifice! I worked at it only because you
+used to like it.”
+
+“What, you think I do not like it now?”
+
+“I KNOW you do not.”
+
+“But you paint still?”
+
+“No! I have not handled brush or pencil for a week. Mr. Edgerton was
+reproaching me only yesterday for my neglect.”
+
+“Ah, indeed! Well, you promised him to resume, did you not? He is a rare
+persuader! He is so amiable, so mild--you could not well resist.”
+
+It was from her face that I formed a rational conjecture of the
+expression that must have appeared in mine. Her eyes dilated with a look
+of timid wonder, not unmixed with apprehension. She actually shrunk
+back a space; then, approaching, laid her hand upon my wrist, as she
+exclaimed:--
+
+“God of heaven, Edward, what strange thought is in your bosom? what is
+the meaning of that look? Look not so again, if you would not kill me!”
+
+I averted my face from hers, but without speaking. She threw her arms
+around my neck.
+
+“Do not turn away from me, Edward. Do not, do not, I entreat you! You
+must not--no! not till you tell me what is troubling you--not till I
+soothe you, and make you love me again as much as you did at first.”
+
+When I turned to her again, the tears--hot, scalding tears--were already
+streaming down my cheeks.
+
+“Julia, God knows I love you! Never woman yet was more devotedly loved
+by man! I love you too much--too deeply--too entirely! Alas, I love
+nothing else!”
+
+“Say not that you love me too much--that can not be! Do I not love
+you--you only, you altogether? Should I not have your whole love in
+return?”
+
+“Ah, Julia! but my love is a convulsive eagerness of soul--a passion
+that knows no limit! It is not that my heart is entirely yours: it is
+that it is yours with a frenzied desperation. There is a fanaticism
+in love as in religion. My love is that fanaticism. It burns--it
+commands--where yours would but soothe and solicit.”
+
+“But is mine the less true--the less valuable for this, dear Edward?”
+
+“No, perhaps not! It may be even more true, more valuable; it may be
+only less intense. But fanaticism, you know, is exacting--nothing
+more so. It permits no half-passion, no moderate zeal. It insists upon
+devotion like its own. Ah, Julia, could you but love as I do!”
+
+“I love you all, Edward, all that I can, and as it belongs in my nature
+to love. But I am a woman, and a timid one, you know. I am not capable
+of that wild passion which you feel. Were I to indulge it, it would most
+certainly destroy me. Even as it sometimes appears in you, it terrifies
+and unnerves me. You are so impetuous!”
+
+“Ah, you would have only the meek, the amiable!”
+
+And thus, with an implied sarcasm, our conversation ended. Julia turned
+on me a look of imploring, which was naturally one of reproach. It did
+not have its proper influence upon me. I seized my hat, and hurried
+from the house. I rushed, rather than walked, through the streets; and,
+before I knew where I was, I found myself on the banks of the river,
+under the shade of trees, with the soft evening breeze blowing upon me,
+and the placid moon sailing quietly above. I threw myself down upon the
+grass, and delivered myself up to gloomy thoughts. Here was I, then,
+scarcely twenty-five years old; young, vigorous; with a probable chance
+of fortune before me; a young and lovely wife, the very creature of
+my first and only choice, one whom I tenderly loved, whom, if to
+seek again, I should again, and again, and only, seek! Yet I was
+miserable--miserable in the very possession of my first hopes, my best
+joys--the very treasure that had always seemed the dearest in my sight.
+Miserable blind heart! miserable indeed! For what was there to make
+me miserable? Absolutely nothing--nothing that the outer world could
+give--nothing that it could ever take away. But what fool is it that
+fancies there must be a reason for one's wretchedness? The reason is in
+our own hearts; in the perverseness which can make of its own heaven a
+hell! not often fashion a heaven out of hell!
+
+Brooding, I lay upon the sward, meditating unutterable things, and
+as far as ever from any conclusion. Of one thing alone I was
+satisfied--that I was unutterably miserable; that my destiny was written
+in sable; that I was a man foredoomed to wo! Were my speculations
+strange or unnatural! Unnatural indeed! There is a class of
+surface-skimming persons, who pronounce all things unnatural which, to a
+cool, unprovoked, and perhaps unprovokable mind, appear unreasonable: as
+if a vexed nature and exacting passions were not the most unreasonable
+yet most natural of all moral agents. My woes may have been groundless,
+but it was surely not unnatural that I felt and entertained them.
+
+Thus, with bitter mood, growing more bitter with every moment of its
+unrestrained indulgence, I gloomed in loneliness beside the banks of
+that silvery and smooth-flowing river. Certainly the natural world
+around me lent no color to my fancies. While all was dark within, all
+was bright without. A fiend was tugging at my heart; while from a little
+white cottage, a few hundred yards below, which grew flush with the
+margin of the stream, there stole forth the tender, tinkling strains of
+a guitar, probably touched by fair fingers of a fair maiden, with some
+enamored boy, blind and doting, hovering beside her. I, too, had stood
+thus and hearkened thus, and where am I--what am I!
+
+I started to my feet. I found something offensive in the music. It came
+linked with a song which I had heard Julia sing a hundred times; and
+when I thought of those hours of confidence, and felt myself where I
+was, alone--and how lone!--bitterer than ever were the wayward pangs
+which were preying upon the tenderest fibres of my heart.
+
+In the next moment I ceased to be alone. I was met and jostled by
+another person as I bounded forward, much too rapidly, in an effort to
+bury myself in the deeper shadow of some neighboring trees. The
+stranger was nearly overthrown in the collision, which extorted a hasty
+exclamation from his lips, not unmingled with a famous oath or two.
+In the voice. I recognised that of my friend Kingsley--the well-known
+pseudo-Kentucky gentleman, who had acted a part so important in
+extricating my wife from her mother's custody. I made myself known to
+him in apologizing for my rudeness.
+
+“You here!” said he; “I did not expect to meet you. I have just been
+to your house, where I found your wife, and where I intended to stop a
+while and wait for you. But Bill Edgerton, in the meanwhile, popped
+in, and after that I could hear nothing but pictures and paintings,
+Madonnas, Ecce Homos, and the like; till I began to fancy that I smelt
+nothing but paint and varnish. So I popped out, with a pretty blunt
+excuse, leaving the two amateurs to talk in oil and water-colors, and
+settle the principles of art as they please. Like you, I fancy a real
+landscape, here, by the water, and under the green trees, in preference
+to a thousand of their painted pictures.”
+
+It may be supposed that my mood underwent precious little improvement
+after this communication. Dark conceits, darker than ever, came across
+my mind. I longed to get away, and return to that home from which I had
+banished confidence!--ah, only too happy if there still lingered hope!
+But my friend, blunt, good-humored, and thoughtless creature as he was,
+took for granted that I had come to look at the landscape, to admire
+water-views by moonlight, and drink fresh draughts of sea-breeze from
+the southwest; and, thrusting his arm through mine, he dragged me on,
+down, almost to the threshold of the cottage, whence still issued the
+tinkle, tinkle, of the guitar which had first driven me away.
+
+“That girl sings well. Do you know her--Miss Davison? She's soon to
+be married, THEY say (d--n 'they say,' however--the greatest
+scandal-monger, if not mischief-maker and liar, in the world!)--she is
+soon to be married to young Trescott--a clover lad who sniffles, plays
+on the flute, wears whisker and imperial on the most cream-colored and
+effeminate face you ever saw! A good fellow, nevertheless, but a silly!
+She is a good fellow, too, rather the cleverest of the twain, and
+perhaps the oldest. The match, if match it really is to be, none of the
+wisest for that very reason. The damsel, now-a-days, who marries a lad
+younger than herself, is laying up a large stock of pother, which is
+to bother her when she becomes thirty--for even young ladies, you know,
+after forty, may become thirty. A sort of dispensation of nature. She
+sings well, nevertheless.”
+
+I said something--it matters not what. Dark images of home were in my
+eyes. I heard no song--saw no landscape The voice of Kingsley was a sort
+of buzzing in my ears.
+
+“You are dull to-night, but that song ought to soothe you. What a
+cheery, light-hearted wench it is! Her voice does seem so to rise in
+air, shaking its wings, and crying tira-la! tira-la! with an enthusiasm
+which is catching! I almost feel prompted to kick up my heels, throw a
+summerset, and, while turning on my axis, give her an echo of tira-la!
+tira-la! tira-la! after her own fashion.”
+
+“You are certainly a happy, mad fellow, Kingsley!” was my faint,
+cheerless commentary upon a gayety of heart which I could not share, and
+the unreserved expression of which, at that moment, only vexed me.
+
+“And you no glad one, Clifford. That song, which almost prompts me to
+dance, makes no impression on you! By-the-way, your wife used to sing so
+well, and now I never hear her. That d---d painting, if you don't mind,
+will make her give up everything else! As for Bill Edgerton, he cares
+for nothing else out his varnish, trees, and umber-hills, and
+streaky water. You shouldn't let him fill your wife's mind with this
+oil-and-varnish spirit--giving up the piano, the guitar, and that
+sweeter instrument than all, her own voice. D--n the paintings!--his
+long talk on the subject almost makes me sick of everything like a
+picture. I now look upon a beautiful landscape like this as a thing
+that is shortly to be desecrated--taken in vain--scratched out of shape
+and proportion upon a deal-board, and colored after such a fashion as
+never before was seen in the natural world, upon, or under, or about
+this solid earth. D--n the pictures, I say again!--but, for God's sake,
+Clifford, don't let your wife give up the music! Make her play, even if
+she don't like it. She likes the painting best, but I wouldn't allow it!
+A wife is a sort of person that we set to do those things that we wish
+done and can't do for ourselves. That's my definition of a wife. Now,
+if I were in your place, with my present love for music and dislike of
+pictures, I'd put her at the piano, and put the paint-saucers, and the
+oil, and the smutted canvass, out of the window; and then--unless he
+came to his senses like other people--I'd thrust Bill Edgerton out after
+them! I'd never let the best friend in the world spoil my wife.”
+
+The effect of this random chatter of my good-natured friend upon my
+mind may well be imagined. It was fortunate that he was quite too much
+occupied in what he was saying to note my annoyance. In vain, anxious
+to be let off, was I restrained in utterance--cold, unpliable. The
+good fellow took for granted that it was an act of friendship to try to
+amuse; and thus, yearning with a nameless discontent and apprehension to
+get home I was marched to and fro along the river-bank, from one scene
+to another--he, meanwhile, utterly heedless of time, and as actively
+bent on perpetual motion as if his sinews were of steel and his flesh
+iron. Meanwhile, the guitar ceased, and the song in the cottage of Miss
+Davison; the lights went out in that and all the other dwellings in
+sight; the moon waned; and it was not till the clock from a distant
+steeple tolled out the hour of eleven with startling solemnity, that
+Kingsley exclaimed:--
+
+“Well, mon ami, we have had a ramble, and I trust I have somewhat
+dissipated your gloomy fit. And now to bed--what say you?--with what
+appetite we may!”
+
+With what appetite, indeed! We separated. I rushed homeward, the moment
+he was out of sight--once more stood before my own dwelling. There the
+lights remained unextinguished and William Edgerton was still a tenant
+of my parlor!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+SELF-HUMILIATION.
+
+
+I had not the courage to enter my own dwelling! My heart sank within me.
+It was as if the whole hope of a long life, an intense desire, a keen
+unremitting pursuit, had suddenly been for ever baffled. Let no one who
+has not been in my situation; who has not been governed by like
+moral and social influences from the beginning; who knows not my
+sensibilities, and the organization--singular and strange it may be--of
+my mind and body; let no such person jump to the conclusion that there
+was any thing unnatural, however unreasonable and unreasoning, in the
+wild passion which possessed me. I look back upon it with some surprise
+myself. The fears which I felt, the sufferings I endured, however
+unreasonable, were yet true to my training. That training made me
+selfish; how selfish let my blindness show! In the blindness of self
+I could see nothing but the thing I feared, the one phantom--phantom
+though it were--which was sufficient to quell and crush all the better
+part of man within me, banish all the real blessings which were at
+command around me. I gave but a single second glance through the windows
+of my habitation, and then darted desperately away from the entrance!
+I bounded, without a consciousness, through the now still and dreary
+streets, and found myself, without intending it, once more beside the
+river, whose constant melancholy chidings, seemed the echoes-though in
+the faintest possible degree--of the deep waters of some apprehensive
+sorrow then rolling through all the channels of my soul.
+
+What was it that I feared? What was it that I sought? Was it love?
+Can it be that the strange passion which we call by this name, was the
+source of that sad frenzy which filled and afflicted my heart? And was
+I not successful in my love? Had I not found the sought?--won the
+withheld? What was denied to me that I desired? I asked of myself these
+questions. I asked them in vain. I could not answer them. I believe that
+I can answer now. It was sincerity, earnestness, devotion from her, all
+speaking through an intensity like that which I felt within my own soul.
+
+Now, Julia lacked this earnestness, this intensity. Accustomed to
+submission, her manner was habitually subdued. Her strongest utterance
+was a tear, and that was most frequently hidden. She did not respond to
+me in the language in which my affections were wont to speak. Sincerity
+she did not lack--far from it--she was truth itself! It is the keener
+pang to my conscience now, that I am compelled to admit this conviction.
+Her modes of utterance were not less true than mine. They were not less
+significant of truth; but they were after a different fashion. In a
+moment of calm and reason, I might have believed this truth; nay, I knew
+it, even at those moments when I was most unjust. It was not the truth
+that I required so much as the presence of an attachment which could
+equal mine in its degree and strength. This was not in her nature. She
+was one taught to subdue her nature, to repress the tendencies of her
+heart, to submit in silence and in meekness. She had invariably done so
+until the insane urgency of her mother made her desperate. But for this
+desperation she had still submitted, perhaps, had never been my wife.
+In the fervent intensity of my own love, I fancied, from the beginning,
+that there was something too temperate in the tone of hers. Were I to
+be examined now, on this point, I should say that her deportment was one
+which declared the nicest union of sensibility and maidenly propriety.
+But, compared with mine, her passions were feeble, frigid. Mine were
+equally intense and exacting. Perhaps, had she even responded to my
+impetuosity with a like fervor, I should have recoiled from her with a
+feeling of disgust much more rapid and much more legitimate, than was
+that of my present frenzy.
+
+Frenzy it was! and it led me to the performance of those things of which
+I shame to speak. But the truth, and its honest utterance now, must be
+one of those forms of atonement with which I may hope, perhaps vainly,
+to lessen, in the sight of Heaven, some of my human offences. I had
+scarcely reached the water-side before a new impulse drove me back. You
+will scarcely believe me when I tell you that I descended to the base
+character of the spy upon my household. The blush is red on my cheek
+while I record the shameful error. I entered the garden, stole like
+a felon to the lattice of the apartment in which my wife sat with her
+guest, and looked in with a greedy fear, upon the features of the two!
+
+What were my own features then? What the expression of my eyes? It was
+well that I could not see them; I felt that they must be frightful. But
+what did I expect to see in this espionage? As I live, honestly now, and
+with what degree of honesty I then possessed, I may truly declare that
+when I THOUGHT upon the subject at all, I had no more suspicion that my
+wife would be guilty of any gross crime, than I had of the guilt of the
+Deity himself. Far from it. Such a fancy never troubled me. But, what
+was it to me, loving as I did, exclusive, and selfish, and exacting as
+I was--what was it to me if, forbearing all crime of conduct, she yet
+regarded another with eyes of idolatry--if her mind was yielded up to
+him in deference and regard; and thoughts, disparaging to me, filled her
+brain with his superior worth, manners, merits? He had tastes, perhaps
+talents, which I had not. In the forum, in all the more energetic, more
+imposing performances of life, William Edgerton, I knew, could take no
+rank in competition with myself. But I was no ladies' man. I had no arts
+of society. My manners were even rude. My address was direct almost to
+bluntness. I had no discriminating graces, and could make no sacrifice,
+in that school of polish, where the delicacy is too apt to become false,
+and the performances trifling. It is idle to dwell on this; still more
+idle to speculate upon probable causes. It may be that there are persons
+in the world of both sexes, and governed by like influences, who have
+been guilty of like follies; to them my revelations may be of service.
+My discoveries, if I have made any, were quite too late to be of much
+help to me.
+
+To resume, I prowled like a guilty phantom around my own habitation. I
+scanned closely, with the keenest eyes of jealousy, every feature, every
+movement of the two within. In the eyes of Edgerton, I beheld--I did not
+deceive myself in this--I beheld the speaking soul, devoted, rapt,
+full of love for the object of his survey. That he loved her was to me
+sufficiently clear. His words were few, faintly spoken, timid. His eyes
+did not encounter hers; but when hers were averted, they riveted their
+fixed glances upon her face with the adherence of the yearning steel for
+the magnet! Bitterly did I gnash my teeth--bitterly did my spirit rise
+in rebellion, as I noted these characteristics. But, vainly, with all my
+perversity of feeling and judgment, did I examine the air, the look, the
+action, the expression, the tones, the words of my wife, to make a like
+discovery. All was passionless, all seeming pure, in her whole conduct.
+She was gentle in her manner, kind in her words, considerate in her
+attentions; but so entirely at ease, so evidently unconscious, as well
+of improper thoughts in herself as of an improper tendency in him, that,
+though still resolute to be wilful and unhappy, I yet could see nothing
+of which I could reasonably complain. Nay, I fancied that there was a
+touch of listlessness, amounting to indifference, in her air, as if she
+really wished him to be gone; and, for a moment, my heart beat with a
+returning flood of tenderness, that almost prompted me to rush suddenly
+into the apartment and clasp her to my arms.
+
+At length, Edgerton departed. When he rose to do so, I felt the
+awkwardness of my situation--the meanness of which I had been
+guilty--the disgrace which would follow detection. The shame I already
+felt; but, though sickening beneath it, the passion which drove me into
+the commission of so slavish an act, was still superior to all others,
+and could not then be overcome. I hurried from the window and from the
+premises while he was taking his leave. My mind was still in a frenzy.
+I rambled off, unconsciously, to the most secluded places along the
+suburbs, endeavoring to lose the thoughts that troubled me. I had now a
+new cause for vexation. I was haunted by a conviction of my own shame.
+How could I look Julia in the face--how meet and speak to her, and hear
+the accents of her voice and my own after the unworthy espionage which
+I had instituted upon her? Would not my eyes betray me--my faltering
+accents, my abashed looks, my flushed and burning cheeks? I felt that it
+was impossible for me to escape detection. I was sure that every look,
+every tone, would sufficiently betray my secret. Perhaps I should not
+have felt this fear, had I possessed the courage to resolve against the
+repetition of my error. Could I have declared this resolution to myself,
+to forego the miserable proceeding which I had that night begun, I feel
+that I should then have taken one large step toward my own deliverance
+from that formidable fiend which was then raging unmastered in my soul.
+But I lacked the courage for this. Fatal deficiency! I felt impressed
+with the necessity of keeping a strict watch upon Edgerton. I had
+seen, with eyes that could not be deceived, the feeling which had
+been expressed in his. I saw that he loved her, perhaps, without a
+consciousness himself of the unhappy truth. I hurried to the conclusion,
+accordingly, that he must be looked after. I did not so immediately
+perceive that in looking after him, I was, in truth, looking after
+Julia; for what was my watch upon Edgerton but a watch upon her? I had
+not the confidence in her to leave her to herself. That was my error.
+The true reasoning by which a man in my situation should be governed, is
+comprised in a nutshell. Either the wife is virtuous or she is not. If
+she is virtuous, she is safe without my espionage. If she is not, all
+the watching in the world will not suffice to make her so. As for the
+discovery of her falsehood, he will make that fast enough. The security
+of the husband lies in his wife's purity, not in his own eyes. It must
+be added to this argument that the most virtuous among us, man or woman,
+is still very weak; and neither wife, nor daughter, nor son, should be
+exposed to unnecessary temptation. Do we not daily implore in our own
+prayers, to be saved from temptation?
+
+I need not strive to declare what were my thoughts and feelings as I
+wandered off from my dwelling and place of espionage that night. No
+language of which I am possessed could embody to the idea of the reader
+the thousandth part of what I suffered. An insane and morbid resentment
+filled my heart. A close, heavy, hot stupor, pressed upon my brain. My
+limbs seemed feeble as those of a child. I tottered in the streets. The
+stars, bright mysterious watchers, seemed peering down into my face with
+looks of smiling inquiry. The sudden bark of a watch-dog startled and
+unnerved me. I felt with the consciousness of a mean action, all the
+humiliating weakness which belongs to it.
+
+It took me a goodly hour before I could muster up courage to return
+home, and it was then midnight. Julia had retired to her chamber, but
+not yet to her couch. She flew to me on my entrance--to my arms. I
+shrunk from her embraces; but she grasped me with greater firmness. I
+had never witnessed so much warmth in her before. It surprised me, but
+the solution of it was easy. My long stay had made her apprehensive. It
+was so unusual. My coldness, when she embraced me, was as startling
+to her, as her sudden warmth was surprising to me. She pushed me from
+her--still, however, holding me in her grasp, while she surveyed me.
+Then she started, and with newer apprehensions.
+
+Well she might. My looks alarmed her. My hair was dishevelled and
+moist with the night-dews. My cheeks were very pale. There was a quick,
+agitated, and dilating fullness of my eyes, which rolled hastily about
+the apartment, never even resting upon her. They dared not. I caught a
+hasty glance of myself in the mirror, and scarcely knew my own features.
+It was natural enough that she should be alarmed. She clung to me with
+increased fervency. She spoke hurriedly, but clearly, with an increased
+and novel power of utterance, the due result of her excitement. Could
+that excitement be occasioned by love for me--by a suspicion of the
+truth, namely, that I had been watching her? I shuddered as this
+last conjecture passed into my mind. That, indeed, would be a
+humiliation--worse, more degrading, by far, than all.
+
+“Oh, why have you left me--so long, so very long? where have you been?
+what has happened?”
+
+“Nothing--nothing.”
+
+“Ah, but there is something, Edward. Speak! what is it, dear husband?
+I see it in your eyes, your looks! Why do you turn from me? Look on me!
+tell me! You are very pale, and your eyes are so wild, so strange! You
+are sick, dear Edward; you are surely sick: tell me, what has happened?”
+
+Wild and hurried as they were, never did tones of more touching
+sweetness fall from any lips. They unmanned--nay, I use the wrong
+word--they MANNED me for the time. They brought me back to my senses, to
+a conviction of her truth, to a momentary conviction of my own folly.
+My words fell from me without effort--few, hurried, husky--but it was a
+sudden heartgush, which was unrestrainable.
+
+“Ask me not, Julia-ask me nothing; but love me, only love me, and all
+will be well--all is well.”
+
+“Do I not--ah! do I not love you, Edward?”
+
+“I believe you--God be praised, I DO believe you!”
+
+“Oh, surely, Edward, you never doubted this.”
+
+“No, no!--never!”
+
+Such was the fervent ejaculation of my lips; such, in spite of its
+seeming inconsistency, was the real belief within my soul. What was it,
+then, that I did doubt? wherefore, then, the misery, the suspense, the
+suspicion, which grew and gathered, corroding in my heart, the parent of
+a thousand unnamed anxieties? It will be difficult to answer. The heart
+of man is one of those strange creations, so various in its moods, so
+infinite in its ramifications, so subtle and sudden in its transitions,
+as to defy investigation as certainly as it refuses remedy and
+relief. It is enough to say that, with one schooled as mine had been,
+injuriously, and with injustice, there is little certainty in any of
+its movements. It becomes habitually capricious, feeds upon passions
+intensely, without seeming detriment; and, after a season, prefers the
+unwholesome nutriment which it has made vital, to those purer natural
+sources of strength and succor, without which, though it may still enjoy
+life, it can never know happiness.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+PROGRESS OF PASSION.
+
+
+“But, do not leave me another time--not so long, Edward Do not leave me
+alone. Your business is one thing. THAT you must, of course, attend to;
+but hours--not of business--hours in which you do no business--hours of
+leisure--your evenings, Edward--these you must share with me--you must
+give to me entirely. Ah! will you not? will you not promise me?”
+
+These were among the last words which she spoke to me ere we slept
+that night. The next morning, almost at awaking, she resumed the same
+language. I could not help perceiving that she spoke in tones of greater
+earnestness than usual--an earnestness expressive of anxiety for which I
+felt at some loss to account. Still, the tenor of what she said, at the
+time, gave me pleasure--a satisfaction which I did not seek to conceal,
+and which, while it lasted, was the sweetest of all pleasures to my
+soul. But the busy devil in my heart made his suggestions also, which
+were of a kind to produce any other but satisfying emotions. While I
+stood in my wife's presence--in the hearing of her angel-voice, and
+beholding the pure spirit speaking out from her eyes--he lay dormant,
+rebuked, within his prison-house, crouching in quiet, waiting a more
+auspicious moment for activity. Nor was he long in waiting; and then his
+cold, insinuating doubts--his inquiries--begot and startled mine!
+
+“Very good--all very good!” Such was the tone of his suggestions. “She
+may well compound for the evenings with you, since she gives her whole
+mornings to your rival.”
+
+Archimedes asked but little for the propulsion of the world. The jealous
+spirit--a spirit jealous like mine--asks still for the moving of that
+little but densely-populous world, the human heart. I forgot the sweet
+tones of my wife's words--the pure-souled words themselves--tones and
+words which, while their sounds yet lingered in my ears, I could not
+have questioned--I did not dare to question. The tempter grew in the
+ascendant the moment I had passed out of her sight; and when I met
+William Edgerton the next day, he acquired greatly-increased power over
+my understanding.
+
+William Edgerton had evidently undergone a change. He no longer met my
+glances boldly with his own. Perhaps, had he done so, my eyes would have
+been the first to shrink from the encounter. He looked down, or looked
+aside, when he spoke to me; his words were few, timorous, hesitating,
+but studiously conciliatory; and he lingered no longer in my presence
+than was absolutely unavoidable. Was there not a consciousness in this?
+and what consciousness? The devil at my heart answered, and answered
+with truth, “He loves your wife.” It would have been well, perhaps, had
+the cruel fiend said nothing farther. Alas! I would have pardoned, nay,
+pitied William Edgerton, had the same chuckling spirit not assured me
+that she also was not insensible to him. I was continually reminded of
+the words, “Your business must, of course, be attended to!”--“What a
+considerate wife!” said the tempter; “how very unusual with young wives,
+with whom business is commonly the very last consideration!”
+
+That very day, I found, on reaching home, that William Edgerton had
+been there--had gone there almost the moment after he had left me at the
+office; and that he had remained there, obviously at work in the studio,
+until the time drew nigh for my return to dinner. My feelings forbade
+any inquiries. These, facts were all related by my wife herself. I did
+not ask to hear them. I asked for nothing more than she told. The dread
+that my jealousy should be suspected made me put on a sturdy aspect of
+indifference; and that exquisite sense of delicacy, which governed every
+movement of my wife's heart and conduct, forbade her to say--what yet
+she certainly desired I should know--that, in all that time, she had not
+seen him, nor he her. She had studiously kept aloof in her chamber so
+long as he remained. Meanwhile, I brooded over their supposed long
+and secret interviews. These I took for granted. The happiness they
+felt--the mutual smile they witnessed--the unconscious sighs they
+uttered! Such a picture of their supposed felicity as my morbid
+imagination conjured up would have roused a doubly damned and damning
+fiend in the heart of any mortal.
+
+What a task was mine, struggling with these images, these
+convictions!--my pride struggling to conceal, my feelings struggling to
+endure. Then, there were other conflicts. What friends had the Edgertons
+been to me--father, mother--nay, that son himself, once so fondly
+esteemed, once so fondly esteeming! Of course, no ties such as these
+could have made me patient under wrong. But they were such as to render
+it necessary that the wrong should be real, unquestionable, beyond
+doubt, beyond excuse. This I felt, this I resolved.
+
+“I will wait! I will be patient! I will endure, though the vulture gnaws
+incessant at my heart! I will do nothing precipitate. No, no: I must
+beware of that! But let me prove them treacherous--let them once falter,
+and go aside from the straight path, and then--oh, then!”
+
+Such, as in spoken words, was the unspoken resolution of my soul; and
+this resolution required, first of all, that I should carry out the base
+purpose which, without a purpose, I had already begun. I must be a spy
+upon their interviews. They must be followed, watched--eyes, looks,
+hands! Miserable necessity! but, under my present feelings and
+determination, not the less a necessity. And I, alone, must do it; I,
+alone, must peer busily into these mysteries, the revelation of
+which can result only in my own ruin--seeking still, with an earnest
+diligence, to discover that which I should rather have prayed for
+eternal and unmitigated blindness, that I might not see! Mine was,
+indeed, the philosophy of the madman.
+
+I persevered in it like one. I yielded all opportunities for the meeting
+of the parties--all opportunities which, in yielding, did not expose
+me to the suspicion of having any sinister object. If, for example, I
+found, or could conjecture, that William Edgerton was likely to be at
+my house this or that evening, I studiously intimated, beforehand,
+some necessity for being myself absent. This carried me frequently from
+home--lone, wandering, vexing myself with the most hideous conjectures,
+the most self-torturing apprehensions. I sped away, obviously, into the
+city-to alleged meetings with friends or clients--or on some pretence
+or other which seemed ordinary and natural But my course was to return,
+and, under cover of night, to prowl, around my own premises, like some
+guilty ghost, doomed to haunt the scene of former happiness, in its
+wantonness rendered a scene of ever-during misery. Certainly, no guilty
+ghost ever suffered in his penal tortures a torture worse than mine
+at these humiliating moments. It was torture enough to me that I was
+sensible of all the unhappy meanness of my conduct. On this head, though
+I strove to excuse myself on the score of a supposed necessity, I could
+not deceive myself--not--not for the smallest moment.
+
+Weeks passed in this manner--weeks to me of misery--of annoyance and
+secret suffering to my wife. In this time, my espionage resulted
+in nothing but what has been already shown--in what was already
+sufficiently obvious to me. William Edgerton continued his insane
+attentions: he sought my dwelling with studious perseverance--sought it
+particularly at those periods when he fancied I was absent--when he knew
+it--though such were not his exclusive periods of visitation. He came
+at times when I was at home. His passion for my wife was sufficiently
+evident to me, though her deportment was such as to persuade mo that
+she did not see it. All that I beheld of her conduct was irreproachable.
+There was a singular and sweet dignity in her air and manner, when they
+were together, that seemed one of the most insuperable barriers to any
+rash or presumptuous approach. While there was no constraint about
+her carriage, there was no familiarity--nothing to encourage or invite
+familiarity. While she answered freely, responding to all the needs of
+a suggested subject, she herself never seemed to broach one; and, after
+hours of nightly watch, which ran through a period of weeks, in which
+I strove at the shameful occupation of the espial, I was compelled
+to admit that all her part was as purely unexceptionable as the most
+jealous husband could have wished it.
+
+But not so with the conduct of William Edgerton. His attentions were
+increasing. His passion was assuming some of the forms of that delirium
+to which, under encouragement, it is usually driven in the end. He now
+passionately watched my wife's countenance, and no longer averted his
+glance when it suddenly encountered hers. His eyes, naturally tender in
+expression, now assumed a look of irrepressible ardency, from which, I
+now fancied--pleased to fancy--that hers recoiled! He would linger long
+in silence, silently watching her, and seemingly unconscious, the while,
+equally of his scrutiny and his silence. At such times, I could perceive
+that Julia would turn aside, or her own eyes would be marked by an
+expression of the coldest vacancy, which, but for other circumstances,
+or in any other condition of my mind, would have seemed to me conclusive
+of her indignation or dislike. But, when such became my thought, it
+was soon expelled by some suggestion from the busy devil of my
+imagination:--
+
+“They may well put on this appearance now; but are such their looks when
+they meet, sometimes for a whole morning, in the painting-room?” Even
+here, the fiend was silenced by a fact which was revealed to me in one
+of my nocturnal watches.
+
+“Clifford not at home?” said Edgerton one evening as he entered,
+addressing my wife, and looking indifferently around the room. “I
+wished to tell him about some pictures which are to be seen at ----'s
+room--really a lovely Guido--an infant Savior--and something, said to be
+by Carlo Dolce, though I doubt. You must see them. Shall I call for you
+tomorrow morning?”
+
+“I thank you, but have an engagement for the morning.”
+
+“Well, the next day. They will remain but a few days longer in the
+city.”
+
+“I am sorry, but I shall not be able to go even the next day, I am so
+busy.”
+
+“Busy? ah! that reminds me to ask if you have given up the pencil
+altogether? Have you wholly abandoned the studio? I never see you now
+at work in the morning. I had no thought that you had so much of the
+fashionable taste for morning calls, shopping, and the like.”
+
+“Nor have I,” was the quiet answer. “I seldom leave home in the
+morning.”
+
+“Indeed!” with some doubtfulness of countenance, almost amounting to
+chagrin--“indeed! how is it that I so seldom see you, then?”
+
+“The cares of a household, I suppose, might be my sufficient excuse.
+While my liege lord works abroad, I find my duties sufficiently urgent
+to task all my time at home.”
+
+“Really--but you do not propose to abandon the atelier entirely?
+Clifford himself, with his great fondness for the art, will scarcely be
+satisfied that you should, even on a pretence of work.”
+
+“I do not know. I do not think that MY HUSBAND”--the last two words
+certainly emphasized--“cares much about it. I suspect that music and
+painting, however much they delighted and employed our girlhood, form
+but a very insignificant part of our duties and enjoyments when we get
+married.”
+
+“But you do not mean to say that a fine landscape, or an exquisite head,
+gives you less satisfaction than before your marriage?”
+
+“I confess they do. Life is a very different thing before and after
+marriage. It seems far more serious--it appears to me a possession now,
+and time a sort of property which has to be economized and doled
+out almost as cautiously as money. I have not touched a brush this
+fortnight. I doubt if I have been in the painting-room more than once in
+all this time.”
+
+This conversation, which evidently discomfited William Elgerton, was
+productive to me of no small satisfaction. After a brief interval,
+consumed in silence, he resumed it:--
+
+“But I must certainly get you to see these pictures. Nay, I must
+also--since you keep at home--persuade you to look into the studio
+tomorrow, if it be only to flatter my vanity by looking at a sketch
+which I have amused myself upon the last three mornings. By-the-way, why
+may we not look at it tonight?”
+
+“We shall not be able to examine it carefully by night,” was the answer,
+as I fancied, spoken with unwonted coldness and deliberation.
+
+“So much the better for me,” he replied, with an ineffectual attempt to
+laugh; “you will be less able to discern its defects.”
+
+“The same difficulty will endanger its beauties,” Julia answered,
+without offering to rise.
+
+“Well, at least, you must arrange for seeing the pictures at ----'s.
+They are to remain but a few days, and I would not have you miss seeing
+them for the world. Suppose you say Saturday morning?”
+
+“If nothing happens to prevent,” she said; “and I will endeavor to
+persuade Mr. Clifford to look at them with us.”
+
+“Oh, he is so full of his law and clients, that you will hardly
+succeed.”
+
+This was spoken with evident dissatisfaction. The arrangement, which
+included me, seemed unnecessary. I need not say that I was better
+pleased with my wife than I had been for some time previous; but here
+the juggling fiend interposed again, to suggest the painful suspicion
+that she knew of my whereabouts, of my jealousy, of my espionage; that
+her words were rather meant for my ears than for those of Edgerton; or,
+if this were not the case, her manner to Edgerton was simply adopted,
+as she had now become conscious of her own feelings--feelings of
+peril--feelings which would not permit her to trust herself. Ah! she
+feared herself: she had discovered the passion of William Edgerton, and
+it had taught her the character and tendency of her own. Was there ever
+more self-destroying malice than was mine? I settled down upon this last
+conviction. My wife's coldness was only assumed to prevent Edgerton from
+seeing her weakness; and, for Edgerton himself, I now trembled with the
+conviction that I should have to shed his blood.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+A GROUP.
+
+
+This conviction now began to haunt my mind with all the punctuality of
+a shadow. It came to me unconsciously, uncalled for; mingled with other
+thoughts and disturbed them all. Whether at my desk, or in the courts;
+among men in the crowded mart, or in places simply where the idle and
+the thoughtless congregate, it was still my companion. It was, however,
+still a shadow only; a dull, intangible, half-formed image of the mind;
+the crude creature of a fear rather than a desire; for, of a truth,
+nothing could be more really terrible to me than the apparent necessity
+of taking the life of one so dear to me once, and still so dear to the
+only friends I had ever known. I need not say how silently I strove
+to banish this conviction. My struggles on this subject were precisely
+those which are felt by nervous men suddenly approaching a precipice,
+and, though secure, flinging themselves off, in the extremity of their
+apprehensions of that danger which has assumed in their imaginations an
+aspect so absorbing. With such persons, the extreme anxiety to avoid
+the deed, whether of evil or of mere danger, frequently provokes its
+commission. I felt that this risk encountered me. I well knew that an
+act often contemplated may be already considered half-performed; and
+though I could not rid myself of the impression that I was destined to
+do the deed the very idea of which made me shudder, I yet determined,
+with all the remaining resolution of my virtue, to dismiss it from my
+thought, as I resolved to escape from its performance if I could.
+
+It would have been easy enough for me to have kept this resolution as it
+was enough for me to make it, had it not clashed with a superior passion
+in my mind; but that blindness of heart under which I labored, impaired
+my judgment, enfeebled my resolution, baffled my prudence, defeated all
+my faculties of self-preservation. I was, in fact, a monomaniac. On
+one subject, I was incapable of thought, of sane reasoning, of fixed
+purpose. I am unwilling to distinguish this madness by the word
+“jealousy.” In the ordinary sense of the term it was not jealousy.
+Phrenologists would call it an undue development of self-esteem,
+diseased by frequent provocation into an irritable suspiciousness, which
+influenced all the offices of thought. It was certain, to myself, that
+in instituting the watch which I did over the conduct of my wife and
+William Edgerton, I did not expect to discover the commission of any
+gross act which, in the vulgar acceptation of the world, constitutes
+the crime of infidelity. The pang would not have been less to my mind,
+though every such act was forborne, if I perceived that her eyes yearned
+for his coming, and her looks of despondency took note of his absence.
+If I could see that she hearkened to his words with the ears of one who
+deferred even to devotedness, and found that pleasure in his accents
+which should only have been accorded to mine. It is the low nature,
+alone, which seeks for developments beyond these, to constitute the sin
+of faithlessness. Of looks, words, consideration, habitual deference,
+and eager attention, I was quite as uxorious as I should have been of
+the warm kiss, or the yielding, fond embrace. They were the same in my
+eyes. It was for the momentary glance, the passing word, the forgetful
+sigh, that I looked and listened, while I pursued the unhappy espionage
+upon my wife and her lover. That he was her lover, was sufficiently
+evident--how far she was pleased with his devotion was the question to
+be asked and--answered!
+
+The self-esteem which produced these developments of jealousy, in my
+own home, was not unexercised abroad. The same exacting nature was busy
+among my friends and mere acquaintance. Of these I had but few; to these
+I could be devoted; for these I could toil; for these I could freely
+have perished! But I demanded nothing less from them. Of their
+consideration and regard I was equally uxorious as I was of the
+affections of my wife. I was an INTENSIFIER in all my relations, and was
+not willing to divide or share my sympathies. I became suspicious when
+I found any of my acquaintance forming new intimacies, and sunk into
+reserves which necessarily produced a severance of the old ties between
+us. It naturally followed that my few friends became fewer, and I
+finally stood alone. But enough of self-analysis, which, in truth,
+owes its origin to the very same mental quality which I have been
+discussing--the presence and prevalence of EGOISME. Let us hurry our
+progress.
+
+My wife advised me of the visit which William Edgerton had proposed to
+the picture collection.
+
+“I will go,” she said, “if you will.”
+
+“You must go without me.”
+
+“Ah, why? Surely, you can go one morning?”
+
+“Impossible. The morning is the time for business. THAT must be attended
+to, you know.”
+
+“But you needn't slave yourself at it because it is business, Edward.
+But that I know that you are not a money-loving man, I should suppose,
+sometimes, from the continual plea of business, that you were a miser,
+and delighted in filling old stockings to hide away in holes and chinks
+of the wall. Come, now, Saturday is not usually a busy day with you
+lawyers; steal it this once and go with us. I lose half the pleasure of
+the sight always, when you are not with me, and when I know that you are
+engaged in working for me elsewhere.”
+
+“Ah, you mistake, Julia. You shall not flatter me into such a faith. You
+lose precious little by my absence.”
+
+“But, Edward, I do; believe me--it is true.”
+
+“Impossible! No, no, Julia, when you look on the Carlo Dolce and the
+Guido, you will forget not only the toils of the husband, but that you
+have one at all. You will forget my harsh features in the contemplation
+of softer ones.”
+
+“Your features are not harsh ones, Edward.”
+
+“Nay, you shall not persuade me that I am not an Orson--a very wild man
+of the woods. I know I am. I know that I have harsh features; nay, I
+fancy you know it too, by this time, Julia.”
+
+“I admit the sternness at times, Edward, but I deny the harshness.
+Besides, sternness, you know, is perfectly compatible with the
+possession of the highest human beauty. I am not sure that a certain
+portion of sternness is not absolutely necessary to manly beauty. It
+seems to me that I have never yet seen what I call a handsome man, whose
+features had not a certain sweet gravity, a sort of melancholy defiance,
+in them which neutralized the effect of any effeminacy which mere
+beauty must have had; and imparted to them a degree of character which
+compelled you to turn again and look, and made you remember them, even
+when they had disappeared from sight. Now, it may be the vanity of a
+wife, Edward, but it seems to me that this is the very sort of face
+which you possess.”
+
+“Ah! you are very vain of me, I know--very!”
+
+“Proud, fond--not vain!”
+
+“You deceive yourself still, I suspect, even with your distinctions. But
+you must forego the pleasure of displaying my 'stern beauties,' as your
+particular possession, at the gallery. You must content yourself with
+others not so stern, though perhaps not less beautiful, and certainly
+more amiable. Edgerton will be your sufficient chaperon.”
+
+“Yes, but I do not wish to be troubling Mr. Edgerton so frequently;
+and, indeed, I would rather forego the pleasure of seeing the pictures
+altogether, than trespass in this way upon his attention and leisure.”
+
+“Indeed, but I am very sure you do not trespass upon either. He is an
+idle, good fellow, relishes anything better than business, and you know
+has such a passion for painting and pictures that its indulgence seems
+to justify anything to his mind. He will forget everything in their
+pursuit.”
+
+All this was said with a studious indifference of manner. I was
+singularly successful in concealing the expression of that agony which
+was gnawing all the while upon my heart. I could smile, too, while I was
+speaking--while I was suffering! Look calmly into her face and smile,
+with a composure, a strength, the very consciousness of which was a
+source of terrible overthrow to me at last. I was surprised to perceive
+an air of chagrin upon Julia's countenance, which was certainly
+unstudied. She was one of those who do not well conceal or cloak their
+real sentiments. The faculty of doing so is usually much more strongly
+possessed by women than by men--much more easily commanded--but SHE
+had little of it. Why should she wear this expression of
+disappointment--chagrin! Was she really anxious that I should attend
+her? I began to think so--began to relent, and think of promising that I
+would go with her, when she somewhat abruptly laid her hand upon my arm.
+
+“Edward, you leave me too frequently. You stay from me too long,
+particularly at evening. Do not forget, dear husband, how few female
+friends I have; how few friends of any sort--how small is my social
+circle. Besides, it is expected of all young people, newly married,
+that they will be frequently together; and when it is seen that they are
+often separate--that the wife goes abroad alone, or goes in the company
+of persons not of the family, it begets a suspicion that all is not
+well--that there is no peace, no love, in the family so divided. Do
+not think, Edward, that I mean this reproachfully--that I mean
+complaint--that I apprehend the loss of your love: oh no! I dread too
+greatly any such loss to venture upon its suspicion lightly, but I would
+guard against the conjectures of others--”
+
+“So, then, it is not that you really wish my company. It is be-cause you
+would simply maintain appearances.”
+
+“I would do both, Edward. God knows I care as little for mere
+appearances, so long as the substances, are good, as you do; but I
+confess I would not have the neighbors speak of me as the neglected
+wife; I would not have you the subject of vulgar reproach.”
+
+“To what does all this tend?” I demanded impatiently.
+
+“To nothing, Edward, if by speaking it I make you angry.”
+
+“Do not speak it, then!” was my stern reply.
+
+“I will not; do not turn away--do not be angry:” here she sobbed once,
+convulsively; but with an effort of which I had not thought her capable,
+she stifled the painful utterance, and continued grasping my wrist as
+she spoke with both her hands, and speaking in a whisper--
+
+“You are not going to leave me in anger. Oh, no! Do not! Kiss me, dear
+husband, and forgive me. If I have vexed you, it was only because I was
+so selfishly anxious to keep you more with me--to be more certain that
+you are all my own!”
+
+I escaped from this scene with some difficulty. I should be doing my own
+heart, blind and wilful as it was, a very gross injustice, if I did not
+confess that the sincere and natural deportment of Julia had rendered me
+largely doubtful of the good sense or the good feeling of the course
+I was pursuing. But the effects of it were temporary only. The very
+feeling, thus forced upon me, that I was, and had been, doing wrong, was
+a humiliating one; and calculated rather to sustain my self-esteem, even
+though it lessened the amount of justification which my jealousy may
+have supposed itself possessed of. The disease had been growing too long
+within my bosom. It had taken too deep root--had spread its fibres into
+a region too rank and stimulating not to baffle any ordinary diligence
+on the part of the extirpator, even if he had been industrious and
+sincere. It had been growing with my growth, had shared my strength from
+the beginning, was a part of my very existence! Still, though not
+with that hearty fondness which her feeling demanded, I returned her
+caresses, folded her to my bosom, kissed the tears from her cheek, and
+half promised myself, though I said nothing of this to her, that I would
+attend her to the picture exhibition.
+
+But I did not. Half an hour before the appointed time I resolved to
+do so; but the evil spirit grew uppermost in that brief interval, and
+suggested to me a course more in unison with its previous counsellings.
+Under this mean prompting I prepared to go to the gallery, but not till
+my wife had already gone there under Edgerton's escort. The object of
+this afterthought was to surprise them there--to enter at the unguarded
+moment, and read the language of their mutual eyes, when they least
+apprehended such scrutiny.
+
+Pitiful as was this design, I yet pursued it. I entered the picture room
+at a moment which was sufficiently auspicious for my objects. They
+were the only occupants of the apartment. I learned this fact before I
+ascended the stairs from the keeper of the gallery, who sat in a lower
+room. The stairs were carpeted. I wore light thin pumps, which were
+noiseless. I may add, as a singular moral contradiction, that I not
+only did not move stealthily, but that I set down my feet with greater
+emphasis than was usual with me, as if I sought, in this way to lessen
+somewhat the meanness of my proceeding. My approach, however, was
+entirely unheard; and I stood for a few seconds in the doorway, gazing
+upon the parties without making them conscious of my intrusion.
+
+Julia was sitting, gazing, with hand lifted above her eyes, at a
+Murillo--a ragged Spanish boy, true equally to the life and to the
+peculiar characteristics of that artist--dark ground-work, keen, arch
+expression, great vivacity, with an air of pregnant humor which speaks
+of more than is shown, and makes you fancy that other pictures are to
+follow in which the same boy must appear in different phases of feeling
+and of fortune.
+
+I need not say that the pictures, however, called for a momentary glance
+only from me. My glances were following my thoughts, and they were
+piercing through the only possible avenues, the cheeks, the lips, the
+tell-tale eyes, deep down into the very hearts of the suspected parties.
+They were so placed that, standing at the door, and half hidden from
+sight by a screen, I could see with tolerable distinctness the true
+expresion in each countenance, though I saw but half the face. Julia was
+gazing upon the pictures, but Edgerton was gazing upon her! He had no
+eyes for any other object; and I fancied, from the abstracted and almost
+vacant expression of his looks, that I without startling him from his
+dream. In his features, speaking, even in their obliviousness of all
+without, was one sole, absorbing sentiment of devotion. His eyes were
+riveted with a strenuous sort of gaze upon her, and her only. He stood
+partly on one side, but still behind her, so that, without changing her
+position, she could scarcely have beheld his countenance. I looked in
+vain, in the brief space of time which I employed in surveying them, but
+she never once turned her head; nor did he once withdraw his glance from
+her neck and cheek, a part only of which could have been visible to him
+where he stood. Her features, meanwhile, were subdued and placid. There
+was nothing which could make me dissatisfied with her, had I not been
+predisposed to this dissatisfaction; and when the tones of my voice were
+heard, she started up to meet me with a sudden flash of pleasure in her
+eyes which illuminated her whole countenance.
+
+“Ah I you are come, then. I am so glad!”
+
+She little knew why I had come. I blushed involuntarily with the
+conviction of the base motive which had brought me. She immediately
+grasped my arm, drew me to the contemplation of those pictures which
+had more particularly pleased herself, absolutely seeming to forget that
+there was a third person in the room. William Edgerton turned away and
+busied himself, for the first time no doubt, in the examination of a
+landscape on the opposite wall. I followed his movement with my glance
+for a single instant, but his face was studiously averted.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+THE OLD GOOSE FINDS A YOUNG GANDER.
+
+
+We will suppose some months to have elapsed in this manner--months,
+to me, of prolonged torture and suspicion. Circumstances, like petty
+billows of the sea, kept chafing upon the low places of my heart,
+keeping alive the feverish irritation which had already done so much
+toward destroying my peace, and overthrowing the guardian outposts of
+my pride and honor. How long the strife was to bo continued before the
+ocean-torrents should be let in--before the wild passions should quite
+overwhelm my reason--was a subject of doubt, but not the less a subject
+of present and of exceeding fear. In these matters, I need not say that
+there was substantially very little change in the character of events
+that marked the progress of my domestic life. William Edgerton still
+continued the course which he had so unwittingly begun. He still sought
+every opportunity to see my wife, and, if possible, to see her alone.
+He avoided me as much as possible; seldom came to the office; absolutely
+gave up his business altogether; and, when we met, though his words
+and manner were solicitously kind, there was a close restraint upon the
+latter, a hesitancy about the former, a timid apprehensiveness in his
+eye, and a generally-shown reluctance to approach me, which I could
+not but see, and could not but perceive, at the same time, that
+he endeavored with ineffectual effort to conceal. He was evidently
+conscious that he was doing wrong. It was equally clear to me that he
+lacked the manly courage to do right. What was all this to end in?
+The question became momently more and more serious. Suppose that he
+possessed no sort of influence over my wife! Even suppose his advances
+to stop where they were at present--his course already, so far, was a
+humiliating indignity, allowing that it became perceptible to the eyes
+of others. That revelation once made, there could be no more proper
+forbearance on the part of the husband. The customs of our society, the
+tone of public opinion--nay, outraged humanity itself--demanded then the
+interposition of the avenger. And that revelation was at hand.
+
+Meanwhile, the keenest eyes of suspicion could behold nothing in the
+conduct of Julia which was not entirely unexceptionable. If William
+Edgerton was still persevering in his pursuit, Julia seemed insensible
+to his endeavors. Of course, they met frequently when it was not in
+my power to see them. It was my error to suppose that they met more
+frequently still--that he saw her invariably in his morning visits to
+the studio, which was not often the case--and, when they did meet, that
+she derived quite as much satisfaction from the interview as himself.
+Of their meetings, except at night, when I was engaged in my miserable
+watch upon them, I could say nothing. Failing to note anything evil at
+such periods, my jealous imagination jumped to the conclusion that this
+was because my espionage was suspected, and that their interviews at
+other periods were distinguished by less prudence and reserve. And yet,
+could I have reasoned rightly at this period, I must have seen that, if
+such were the case, there would have been no such display of EMPRESSMENT
+as William Edgerton made at these evening visits. Did he expend his
+ardor in the day, did he apprehend my scrutiny at night, he would
+surely have suppressed the eagerness of his glance--the profound,
+all-forgetting adoration which marked his whole air, gaze, and manner.
+Nor should I have been so wretchedly blind to what was the obvious
+feeling of discontent and disquiet in her bosom. Never did evenings seem
+to pass with more downright dullness to any one party in the world.
+If Edgerton spoke to her, which he did not frequently, his address
+was marked by a trepidation and hesitancy akin to fear--a manner which
+certainly indicated anything but a foregone conclusion between them;
+while her answers, on the other hand, were singularly cold, merely
+replying, and calculated invariably to discourage everything like a
+protracted conversation. What was said by Edgerton was sufficiently
+harmless--nor harmless merely. It was most commonly mere ordinary
+commonplace, the feeble effort of one who feels the necessity of speech,
+yet dares not speak the voluminous passions which alone could furnish
+him with energetic and manly utterance. Had the scales not been
+abundantly thick and callous above my eyes, how easily might these
+clandestine scrutinies have brought me back equally to happiness and my
+senses! But though I thus beheld the parties, and saw the truth as I now
+relate it, there was always then some little trifling circumstance that
+would rise up, congenial to suspicion, and cloud my conclusions, and
+throw me back upon old doubts and cruel jealousies. Edgerton's tone may,
+at moments, have been more faltering and more tender than usual; Julia's
+glance might sometimes encounter his, and then they both might seem to
+fall, in mutual confusion, to the ground. Perhaps she sung some little
+ditty at his instance--some ditty that she had often sung for me. Nay,
+at his departure, she might have attended him to the entrance, and he
+may have taken her hand and retained his grasp upon it rather longer
+than was absolutely necessary for his farewell. How was I to know the
+degree of pressure which he gave to the hand within his own? That single
+grasp, not unfrequently, undid all the better impressions of a whole
+evening consumed in these unworthy scrutinies. I will not seek further
+to account for or to defend this unhappy weakness. Has not the great
+poet of humanity said--
+
+
+                        “Trifles, light as air,
+       Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong
+       As proofs Of Holy Writ”?
+
+
+Medical men tell us of a predisposing condition of the system for
+the inception of epidemic. It needs, after this, but the smallest
+atmospheric changes, and the contagion spreads, and blackens, and taints
+the entire body of society, even unto death. The history of the moral
+constitution is not unanalogous to this. The disease, the damning doubt,
+once in the mind, and the rest is easy. It may sleep and be silent for a
+season, for years, unprovoked by stimulating circumstances; but let the
+moral atmosphere once receive its color from the suddenly-passing cloud,
+and the dark spot dilates within the heart, grows active, and rapidly
+sends its poisonous and poisoning tendrils through all the avenues of
+mind. Its bitter secretions in my soul affected all the objects of
+my sight, even as the jaundiced man lives only in a saffron element.
+Perhaps no course of conduct on the part of my wife could have seemed
+to me entirely innocent. Certainly none could have been entirely
+satisfactory, or have seemed entirely proper. Even her words, when she
+spoke to me alone, were of a kind to feed my prevailing passion. Yet,
+regarded under just moods, they should have been the most conclusive,
+not simply of her innocence, but of the devotedness of her heart to
+the requisitions of her duty. Her love and her sense of right seemed
+harmoniously to keep together. Gentlest reproaches eluded me for
+leaving her, when she sought for none but myself. Sweetest endearments
+encountered my return, and fondest entreaties would have delayed the
+hour of my departure. Her earnestness, when she implored me not to leave
+her so frequently at night, almost reached intensity, and had a meaning,
+equally expressive of her delicacy and apprehensions, which I was
+unhappily too slow to understand.
+
+Six months had probably elapsed from the time of Mr. Clifford's death,
+when, returning from my office one day, who should I encounter in my
+wife's company but her mother? Of this good lady I had been permitted to
+see but precious little since my marriage. Not that she had kept aloof
+from our dwelling entirely. Julia had always conceived it a duty to seek
+her mother at frequent periods without regarding the ill treatment which
+she received; and the latter, becoming gradually reconciled to what she
+could no longer prevent, had at length so far put on the garments of
+Christian charity as to make a visit to her daughter in return. Of
+course, though I did not encourage it, I objected nothing to this
+renewed intercourse; which continued to increase until, as in the
+present instance, I sometimes encountered this good lady on my return
+from my office. On these occasions I treated her with becoming respect,
+though without familiarity. I inquired after her health, expressed
+myself pleased to see her, and joined my wife in requesting her to stay
+to dinner. Until now, she usually declined to do so; and her manner to
+myself hitherto was that of a spoiled child indulging in his sulks. But,
+this day, to my great consternation, she was all smiles and good humor.
+
+A change so sudden portended danger. I looked to my wife, whose grave
+countenance afforded me no explanation. I looked to the lady herself, my
+own countenance no doubt sufficiently expressive of the wonder which I
+felt, but there was little to be read in that quarter which could
+give me any clue to the mystery. Yet she chattered like a magpie; her
+conversation running on certain styles of dress, various purchases of
+silks, and satins, and other stuffs, which she had been buying--a budget
+of which, I afterward discovered, she had brought with her, in order to
+display to her daughter. Then she spoke of her teeth, newly filed and
+plugged, and grinned with frequent effort, that their improved condition
+might be made apparent. Her chatter was peculiarly that of a flippant
+and conceited girl-child of sixteen, whose head has been turned by
+premature bringing out, and the tuition of some vain, silly, wriggling
+mother. I could see, by my wife's looks, that there was a cause for all
+this, and waited, with considerable apprehension, for the moment when we
+should be alone, in order to receive from her an explanation. But little
+of Mrs. Clifford's conversation was addressed to me, though that little
+was evidently meant to be particularly civil. But, a little before she
+took her departure, which was soon after dinner, she asked me with some
+abruptness, though with a considerable smirk of meaning in her face, if
+I “knew a Mr. Patrick Delaney.” I frankly admitted that I had not this
+pleasure; and with a still more significant smirk, ending in a very
+affected simper, meant to be very pleasant, she informed me, as she took
+her leave, that Julia would make me wiser. I looked to Julia when she
+was gone, and, with some chagrin, and with few words, she unravelled the
+difficulty. Her mother--the old fool--was about to be married, and to
+a Mr. Patrick Delaney, an Irish gentleman, fresh from the green island,
+who had only been some eighteen months in America.
+
+“You seem annoyed by this affair, Julia; but how does it affect you?”
+
+“Oh, such a match can not turn out well. This Mr. Delaney is a young
+man, only twenty-five, and what can he see in mother to induce him to
+marry her? It can only be for the little pittance of property which she
+possesses.”
+
+I shrugged my shoulders while replying:--
+
+“There must be some consideration in every marriage-contract.”
+
+“Ah! but, Edward, what sort of a man can it be to whom money is the
+consideration for marrying a woman old enough to be his mother?”
+
+“And so little money, too. But, Julia, perhaps he marries her as a
+mother. He is a modest youth, who knows his juvenility, and seeks
+becoming guardianship. But the thing does not concern us at all.”
+
+“She is my mother, Edward.”
+
+“True; but still I do not see that the matter should concern us. You
+do not apprehend that Mr. Patrick Delaney will seek to exercise the
+authority of a father over either of us?”
+
+“No! but I fear she will repent.”
+
+“Why should that be a subject of fear which should be a subject of
+gratulation? For my part, I hope she may repent. We are told she can not
+be saved else.”
+
+Julia was silent. I continued:--
+
+“But what brings her here, and makes her so suddenly affable with me?
+That is certainly a matter which looks threatening. Does she explain
+this to you, Julia?”
+
+“Not otherwise than by declaring she is sorry for former differences.”
+
+“Ah, indeed! but her sorrow comes too late, and I very much suspect has
+some motive. What more? the shaft is not yet shot.”
+
+“You guess rightly; she invites us to the wedding, and insists that we
+must come, as a proof that we harbor no malice.”
+
+“Is that all?”
+
+“All, I believe.”
+
+“She is more considerate than I expected. Well, you promised her?”
+
+“No; I told her I could say nothing without consulting you.”
+
+“And would you wish to go, Julia?”
+
+“Oh, surely, dear husband.”
+
+“We will both go, then.”
+
+A week afterward the affair took place, and we were among the
+spectators.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+THE HEART-FIEND FINDS AN ECHO FROM THE FIEND WITHOUT.
+
+
+And a spectacle it was! Mrs. Clifford, about to become Mrs. Delaney, was
+determined that the change in her situation should be distinguished by
+becoming eclat. Always a silly woman, fond of extravagance and show, she
+prepared to celebrate an occasion of the greatest folly in a style of
+greater extravagance than ever. She accordingly collected as many of her
+former numerous acquaintances as were still willing to appear within a
+circle in which wealth was no longer to be found. Her house was small,
+but, as has been elsewhere stated in this narrative, she had made it
+smaller by stuffing it with the massive and costly furniture which had
+been less out of place in her former splendid mansion, and had there
+much better accorded with her fortunes. She now still further stuffed
+it with her guests. Of course, many of those present, came only to make
+merry at her expense. Her husband was almost entirely unknown to any of
+them; and it was enough to settle his pretensions in every mind, that,
+in the vigor of his youth, a really fine-looking, well-made person
+of twenty-five, he was about to connect himself, in marriage, with a
+haggard old woman of fifty, whose personal charms, never very great,
+were nearly all gone; and whose mind and manners, the grace of youth
+being no more, were so very deficient in all those qualities which might
+commend one to a husband. So far as externals went, Mr. Delaney was
+a very proper man. He behaved with sufficient decorum, and unexpected
+modesty; and went through the ordeal as composedly as if the occurrence
+had been frequently before familiar; as indeed we shall discover in the
+sequel, was certainly the case. But this does not concern us now.
+
+Three rooms were thrown open to the company. We had refreshments in
+abundance and great variety, and at a certain hour, we were astounded
+by the clamor of tamborine and fiddle giving due notice to the dancers.
+Among my few social accomplishments, this of dancing had never been
+included. Naturally, I should, perhaps, be considered an awkward man.
+I was conscious of this awkwardness at all times when not excited
+by action or some earnest motive. I was incapable of that graceful
+loitering, that flexibleness of mind and body, which excludes the idea
+of intensity, of every sort, and which constitutes one of the great
+essentials for success in a ball-room. It was in this very respect that
+my FRIEND, William Edgerton, may be said to have excelled most young
+men of our acquaintance. He was what, in common speech, is called an
+accomplished man. Of very graceful person, without much earnestness
+of character, he had acquired a certain fastidiousness of taste on the
+subjects of costume and manners, which, without Brummellizing, he yet
+carried to an extent which betrayed a considerable degree of mental
+feebleness. This somewhat assimilated him to the fashionable dandy. He
+walked with an air equally graceful, noble, and unaffected. He was never
+on stilts, yet he was always EN REGLE. He had as little maurias, honte
+as maurais ton. In short, whatever might have been his deficiencies, he
+was confessedly a very neat specimen of the fine gentleman in its most
+commendable social sense.
+
+William Edgerton was among the guests of Mrs. Clifford. There had been
+no previous intimacy between the Edgerton and Clifford families, yet he
+had been specially invited. Mrs. C. could have had but a single motive
+for inviting him--so I thought--that of making her evening a jam. She
+had just that ambition of the lady of small fashion, who regards the
+number rather than the quality of her guests, and would prefer a saloon
+full of Esquimaux or Kanzas, and would partake of their sea-blubber,
+rather than lose the triumph of making more noise than her rival
+neighbors, the Sprigginses or Wigginses.
+
+William Edgerton did not seek me; but, when I left the side of my wife
+to pay my respects to some ladies at the opposite end of the room, he
+approached her. A keen pang that rendered me unconscious of everything
+I was saying--nay, even of the persons to whom I was addressing
+myself--shot through my heart, as I beheld him crossing the floor to the
+place that I had left. Involuntarily, the gracefulness of his person and
+carriage provoked in my mind a contrast most unfavorable to me, between
+him and myself. It was no satisfaction to me at that time to reflect
+that I was less graceful only because I was more earnest, more sincere.
+This is usually the case, and is reasonably accounted for. Intensity
+and great earnestness of character, are wholly inconsistent with a nice
+attention to forms, carriage, demeanor. But what does a lady care for
+such distinction? Does she even suspect it? Not often. If she could only
+fancy for a moment that the well-made but awkward man who traverses the
+room before her, carried in his breast a soul of such ardency and volume
+that it subjected his very motion arbitrarily to its own excitements,
+its own convulsions; that the very awkwardness which offended her was
+the result of the most deep and passionate feelings--feelings which,
+like the buried flame in the mountain, are continually boiling up for
+utterance--convulsing the prison-house which retained them--shaking the
+solid earth with their pent throes, that will not always be pent! Ah!
+these things do not move ladies' fancies. There are very few endowed
+with that thoughtful pride which disdains surfaces. Julia Clifford was
+one of these few! But I little knew it then.
+
+The approach of William Edgerton to my wife was a signal for my torture
+all that evening. From that moment my mind was wandering. I knew little
+what I said, or looked, or did. My chat with those around me became, on
+a sudden, bald and disjointed; and when I beheld the pair, both nobly
+formed--he tall, graceful, manly--she, beautiful and bending as a
+lily--a purity beaming, amid all their brightness, from her eyes--a
+purity which, I had taught myself to believe, was no longer in her
+heart--when I beheld them advance into the floor, conspicuous over
+all the rest, in most eyes, as they certainly were in mine--I can not
+describe--you may conjecture--the cold, fainting sickness which overcame
+my soul. I could have lain myself down upon the lone, midnight rocks,
+and surrendered myself to solitude and storm for ever.
+
+They entered the stately measures of the Spanish dance But the grace
+of movement which won the murmuring applause of all around me, only
+increased the agony of my afflictions. I saw their linked arms--the
+compliant, willing movements of their mutual forms--and dark were the
+images of guilt and hateful suspicion which entered my brain and grew
+to vivid forms, in action before me. I fancied the fierce, passionate
+yearnings in the heart of Edgerton; I trembled when I conjectured what
+fancies filled the heart of Julia. I can not linger over the torturing
+influence of those moments--moments which seemed ages! Enough that I was
+maddened with the delirium, now almost as its height, which had been for
+months preying upon my brain like some corroding serpent.
+
+The dance closed. Edgerton conducted her to a seat and placed himself
+beside her. I kept aloof. I watched them from a distance; and in
+sustaining this watch, I was compelled to recall my senses with a stern
+degree of resolution which should save my feelings from the detection of
+those inquisitive glances which I fancied were all around me. If I was
+weakest among men, in the disease which destroyed my peace, Heaven knows
+I was among the strongest of men in concealing its expression at the
+very moment when every pulsation of my heart was an especial agony. I
+affected indifference, threw myself into the midst of a group of such
+people as talk of their neighbor's bonnets or breeches, the rise
+of stocks, or the fall of rain; and how Mrs. Jenkins has set up her
+carriage, and Mr. Higgins has been compelled to set down, and to sell
+out his. Interesting details, perhaps, without which the nine in ten
+might as well be tongueless or tongue-tied for ever. This stuff I had to
+hear, and requite in like currency, while my brain was boiling, and
+dim, but terrible images of strife, and storm, and agony, were rushing
+through it with howling and hisses. There I sat, thus seemingly engaged,
+but with an eye ever glancing covertly to the two, who, at that moment,
+absorbed every thought of my mind, every feeling of my heart, and filled
+them both with the bitterest commotion. The glances of their mutual
+eyes, the expression of lip and check, I watched with the keenest
+analysis of suspicion. In Julia, I saw sweetness mixed with a delicate
+reserve. She seemed to speak but little. Her eyes wandered from her
+companion--frequently to where I sat---but I gave myself due credit, at
+such moments, for the ability with which I conducted my own espionage.
+My inference--equally unjust and unnatural--that her timid glances to
+my-self denoted in her bosom a consciousness of wrong--seemed to me the
+most natural and inevitable inference. And when I noted the ardency
+of Edgerton's gaze, his close, unrelaxing attentions, the seeming
+forgetfulness of all around which he manifested, I hurried to the
+conclusion that his words were of a character to suit his looks, and
+betray in more emphatic utterance, the passion which they also betrayed.
+
+The signal, after a short respite, devoted to fruits, ices, &c., was
+made for the dancers, and William Edgerton rose. I noted his bow to
+my wife, saw that he spoke, and necessarily concluded, that he again
+solicited her to dance. Her lips moved--she bowed slightly--and he again
+took his seat beside her. I inferred from this that she declined to
+dance a second time. She was certainly more prudent than himself. I
+assigned to prudence--to policy--on her part, what might well have been
+placed to a nobler motive. I went further.
+
+“She will not dance with him,” said the busy fiend at my shoulder, “for
+the very reason that she prefers a quiet seat beside him. In the dance
+they mingle with others; they can not speak with so much ease and
+safety. Now she has him all to herself.”
+
+I dashed away, forgetful, gloomily, from the knot by which I had been
+encompassed. I passed into the adjoining room, which was connected by
+folding doors, with that I left. The crowd necessarily grouped itself
+around the dancers, and (sic) a window-jamb, I stood absolutely
+forgetting where I was alone among the many--with my eye stretching over
+the heads of the flying masses, to the remote spot where my wife still
+sat with Edgerton. I was aroused from my hateful dream by a slight touch
+upon my arm. I started with a painful sense of my own weakness--with a
+natural dread that the secret misery under which I labored was no longer
+a secret. I writhed under the conviction that the cold, the sneering,
+and the worthless, were making merry with my afflictions. I met the gaze
+of the bride--the mistress of ceremonies--my wife's mother Mrs. Delaney,
+late Clifford. I shuddered as I beheld her glance. I could not mistake
+the volume of meaning in her smile--that wretched smile of her thin,
+withered lips, brimful of malignant cunning, which said emphatically as
+such smile could say:--
+
+“I see you on the rack; I know that you are writhing; and I enjoy your
+tortures.”
+
+I started, as if to leave her, with a look of fell defiance, roused,
+ready to burst forth into utterance, upon my own face. But she gently
+detained my arm.
+
+“You are troubled.”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Ah! but you are. Stop awhile. You will feel better.”
+
+“Thank you; but I feel very well.”
+
+“No, no, you do not. You can not deceive me. I know where the shoe
+pinches; but what did you expect? Were you simple enough to imagine that
+a woman would be true to her husband, who was false to her own mother?”
+
+“Fiend!” I muttered in her ear.
+
+“Ha! ha! ha!” was the unmeasured response of the bel dame, loud enough
+for the whole house to hear. I darted from her grasp, which would have
+detained me still, made my way--how I know not--out of the house, and
+found myself almost gasping for breath, in the open air of the street.
+
+She, at least, had been sagacious enough to find out my secret
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+KINGSLEY.
+
+THE fiendish suggestion of the mother, against the purity of her own
+child, almost divested me, for the moment, of my own rancor--almost
+deprived me of my suspicions! Could anything have been more thoroughly
+horrible and atrocious! It certainly betrayed how deep was the malignant
+hatred which she had ever borne to myself, and of which her daughter
+was now required to bear a portion. What a volume of human depravity was
+opened on my sight, by that single utterance of this wretched mother.
+Guilt and sin! ye are, indeed, the masters everywhere! How universal
+is your dominion! How ye rage--how ye riot among souls, and minds,
+and fancies--never utterly overthrown anywhere--busy
+always--everywhere--sovereign in how many hapless regions of the heart!
+Who is pure among men? Who can be sure of himself for a day--an hour?
+Precious few! None, certainly, who do not distrust their own strength
+with a humility only to be won from prayer--prayer coupled with moderate
+desires, and the presence of a constant thought, which teaches that time
+is a mere agent of eternity, and he who works for the one only, will not
+even be secure of peace during the period for which he works. Truly, he
+who lives not for the future is the very last who may reasonably hope to
+enjoy the blessings of the present.
+
+But this was not the season, nor was mine the mood, for moral
+reflections of any sort. My secret was known! That was everything. When
+the conduct of William Edgerton had become such, as to awaken the
+notice of third persons, I was justified in exacting from him the heavy
+responsibility he had incurred. The vague, indistinct conviction had
+long floated before my mind, that I would be required to take his life.
+The period which was to render this task necessary, was that which
+had now arrived--when it had been seen by others--not interested like
+myself--that he had passed the bounds of propriety. Of course, I was
+arguing in a circle, from which I should have found it impossible to
+extricate myself. Thousands might have seen that I was jealous, without
+being able to see any just cause for my jealousy. It was, however, quite
+enough for a proud spirit like my own, that its secret fear should be
+revealed. It did not much matter, after this, whether my suspicions
+were, or were not causeless. It was enough that they were known--that
+busy, meddling women, and men about town, should distinguish me with a
+finger--should say: “His wife is very pretty and--very charitable!”
+
+“Ha! ha! ha!”
+
+I, too, could laugh, under such musings, and in the spirit of Mrs.
+Delaney--late Clifford.
+
+“Ha! ha! ha!” The street echoed, beneath the windows of that reputable
+lady, with my involuntary, fiendish laughter. I stood there--and the
+music rang through my senses like the cries of exulting demons. She
+was there--of my wife the thoughts ran thus, she was there, whirling,
+perchance, in the mazes of that voluptuous dance, then recently become
+fashionable among us; his arm about her waist--her form inclining to
+his, as if seeking support and succor--and both of them forgetting all
+things but the mutual intoxication which swallowed up all things and
+thoughts in the absorbing sensuality of one! Or, perhaps, still
+apart, they sat to themselves--her ear fastened upon his lips--her
+consciousness given wholly to his discourse; and that discourse!--“Ha!
+ha! ha!”--I laughed again, as I hurried away from the spot, with
+gigantic strides, taking the direction which led to my own lonely
+dwelling.
+
+All was stillness there, but there was no peace. I entered the piazza,
+threw myself into a chair, and gazed out upon the leaves and waters,
+trying to collect my scattered thoughts--trying to subdue my blood,
+that my thoughts might meet in deliberation upon the desolating prospect
+which was then spread before me. But I struggled for this in vain. But
+one thought was mine at that hour. But one fearful image gathered in
+completeness and strength before my mind; and that was one calculated to
+banish all others and baffle all their deliberations.
+
+“The blood of William Edgerton must be shed, and by these hands! My
+disgrace is known! There is no help for it!”
+
+I had repeatedly resolved this gloomy conviction in my mind. It was now
+to receive shape and substance. It was a thing no longer to be thought
+upon. It was a thing to be done! This necessity staggered me. The
+kindness of the father, the kindness and long true friendship of the son
+himself, how could I requite this after such a fashion? How penetrate
+the peaceful home of that fond family with an arm of such violence, as
+to tend their proudest offspring from the parental tree, and, perhaps,
+in destroying it, blight for ever the venerable trunk upon which it was
+borne? Let it not be fancied that these feelings were without effect.
+Let it not be supposed that I weakly, willingly, yielded to the
+conviction of this cruel necessity--that I determined, without a
+struggle, upon this seemingly necessary measure! Verily, I then, in
+that dreary house and hour, wrestled like a strong man with the unbidden
+prompter, who counselled me to the deed of blood. I wrestled with him
+as the desperate man, knowing the supernatural strength of his enemy,
+wrestles with a demon. The strife was a fearful one. I could not
+suppress my groans of agony; and the cold sweat gathered and stood upon
+my forehead in thick, clammy drops.
+
+But the struggle was vain to effect my resolution. It had been too long
+present as a distinct image before my imagination. I had already become
+too familiar with its aspects. It had the look of a fate to my mind. I
+fancied myself--as probably most men will do, whose self-esteem is
+very active--the victim of a fate. My whole life tended to confirm
+this notion. I was chosen out from the beginning for a certain work, in
+which, my-self a victim, I was to carry out the designs of destiny in
+the ease of other victims. I had struggled long not to believe
+this--not to do this work. But the struggle was at last at an end. I was
+convinced, finally. I was ready for the work. I was resigned to my fate.
+But oh! how grateful once had one of these victims seemed in my eyes!
+How beautiful, and still how dear was the other!
+
+I rose from my seat and struggle, with the air of one strengthened by
+thoughtful resolution for any act. Prayer could not have strengthened me
+more. I felt a singular degree of strength. I can well understand that
+of fanaticism from my own feelings. Nothing, in the shape of danger,
+could have deterred me from the deed. I positively had no remaining
+fear. But, how was it to be done? With this inquiry in my mind, still
+unanswered, I took a light, went into my study, and drew from my
+escritoir the few small weapons which I had in possession. These are
+soon named. One was a neat little dirk--broad in blade, double-edged,
+short--sufficient for all my purposes. I examined my pistols and loaded
+them--a small, neat pair, the present of Edgerton himself. This fact
+determined me not to use them. I restored them to the escritoir; put the
+dagger between the folds of my vest, and prepared to leave the house.
+
+At this moment a heavy knocking was heard at the gate I resumed my
+seat in the piazza until the servant should report the nature of the
+interruption. He was followed in by my friend Kingsley.
+
+“I am glad to find you home,” said he abruptly, grasping my hand; “home,
+and not a-bed. The hour is late, I know, but the devil never keeps
+ordinary hours, and men, driven by his satanic majesty, have some excuse
+for following his example.”
+
+This exordium promised something unusual. The manner of Kingsley
+betrayed excitement. Nay, it was soon evident he had been taking
+a superfluous quantity of wine. His voice was thick, and he spoke
+excessively loud in order to be intelligible. There was something like
+a defying desperation in his tones, in the dare-devil swagger of his
+movement, and the almost iron pressure of his grasp upon my fingers. I
+subdued my own passions--nay, they were subdued--singularly so, by the
+resolution I had made before his entrance, and was able, therefore, to
+appear calm and smooth as summer water in his eyes.
+
+“What's the matter?” I asked. “You seem excited. No evil, I trust?”
+
+“Evil, indeed! Not much; but even if it were, I tell you Ned Clifford, I
+am just now in the mood to say, 'Evil be thou my good!' I have reason to
+say it; and, by the powers, it will not be said only. I will make evil
+my good after a fashion of my own; but how much good or now little evil,
+will be yet another question.”
+
+I was interested, in spite of myself, by the vehemence and unusual
+seriousness of my companion's manner. It somewhat harmonized with my own
+temper, and in a measure beguiled me into a momentary heedlessness of my
+particular griefs. I urged him to a more frank statement of the things
+that troubled him.
+
+“Can I serve you in anything?” was the inquiry which concluded my
+assurance that I was sufficiently his friend to sympathize with him in
+his afflictions.
+
+“You can serve me, and I need your service. You can serve me in two
+respects; nay, if you do not, I know not which side to turn for service.
+In the first place, then, I wish a hundred dollars, and I wish it
+to-night. In the next place, I wish a companion--a man not easily
+scared, who will follow where I lead him, and take part in a 'knock down
+and drag out,' if it should become necessary, without asking the why and
+the wherefore.”
+
+“You shall have the money, Kingsley.”
+
+“Stay! Perhaps I may never pay it you again.”
+
+“I shall regret that, for I can ill afford to lose any such sum; but,
+even to know that would not prevent me from lending you in your need. It
+is enough that you are in want. You tell me you are.”
+
+“I am; but my wants are not such as a pure moralist, however strong
+might be his friendship, would be disposed to gratify. I shall stake
+that money on the roll of the dice.”
+
+“Impossible! You do not game!”
+
+“True as a gospel! Hark you, Clifford, and save us the homily. I am a
+ruined man--ruined by the d---d dice and the deceptive cards. I shall
+pay you back the hundred dollars, but I shall have precious little after
+that.”
+
+“But, surely, I was not misinformed. You were rich a few years ago.”
+
+“A few months! But the case is the same. I am poor now. My riches had
+wings. I am reduced to my tail-feathers; but I will flourish with
+these to the last. I have fallen among thieves. They have clipped my
+plumage--close! close! They have stripped me of everything, but some
+small matters which, when sold, will just suffice to get me horse or
+halter. Some dirty acres in Alabama, are all I absolutely have remaining
+of any real value. But there is one thing that I may have, if I stake
+boldly for it.”
+
+“You will only lose again. The hope of a gamester rises, in due degree,
+with the increasing lightness of his pockets.”
+
+“Do not mistake me. I hope nothing from your hundred dollars; indeed,
+fifty will answer. I propose to employ it only as a pretext. I expect to
+lose it, and lose it this very night. But it will give me an opportunity
+to ascertain what I have suspected--too late, indeed, to save
+myself--that I have been the victim of false dice and figured cards. You
+say you will let me have the money--will you go with me--Will you see me
+through?”
+
+He extended his hand as he spoke, I grasped it. He shook it with a
+hearty feeling, while a bright smile almost, dissipated the cloud from
+his face.
+
+“You are a man, Clifford; and now, would you believe it, our excellent,
+immaculate young friend, Mr. William Edgerton, refused me this money.”
+
+“Strange! Edgerton is not selfish--he is not mean! From THAT vice he is
+certainly free.”
+
+“By G-d, I don't know that! He refused me the money; refused to go with
+me. I saw him at eight o'clock, at his own room, where he was rigging
+himself out for some d---d tea-drinking; told him my straits, my losses,
+my object and all; and what was his plea, think you? Why, he disapproved
+of gambling; couldn't think of lending me a sixpence for any such
+purpose; and, as for going into such a suspected quarter as a
+gambling-house--wouldn't do it for the world! Was there ever such a
+puritan--such a humbug!”
+
+I did William Edgerton only justice in my reply;--
+
+“I've no doubt, Kingsley, that such are his real principles. He would
+have lent you thrice the money, freely, had not your object been
+avowed.”
+
+“But what a devil sort of despotism is that! Can't a friend get drunk,
+or game, or swagger? may he not depart from the highway, and sidle into
+an alley, without souring his friend's temper and making him stingy?
+I don't understand it at all. I'm glad, at least, to find you are of
+another sort of stuff.”
+
+“Nay, Kingsley, I will lend you the money--go with you, as you desire;
+but, understand me, I do not, no more than Edgerton, approve of this
+gambling.”
+
+“Tut, tut! I don't want you to preach, though I could hear you with a
+devilish sight better temper than him. There's a hundred things that
+one's friend don't approve of, but shall he desert him for all that?
+Leave him to be plucked, and kicked, and abandoned; and, moralizing,
+with a grin over his fain, say, 'I told you so!' No! no! Give me the
+fellow that'll stand by me--keep me out of evil, if he can, but stand by
+me, nevertheless, at all events; and not suffer me to be swallowed up at
+the last moment, when an outstretched finger might save!”
+
+“But, am I to think, Kingsley, that my help can do this?”
+
+“No! not exactly--it may--but if it does not, what then? I shall lose
+the money, but you shan't. But, truth to speak, Clifford, I do not
+propose to myself the recovery of what is lost. I know I have been the
+prey of sharpers. That is to say, I have every reason to believe so,
+and I have had a hint to that effect. I have a spice of the devil in me,
+accordingly--a mocking, mortifying devil, that jeers me with my d---d
+simplicity; and I propose to go and let the swindlers know, in a way as
+little circuitous as possible, that I am not blind to the fact that they
+have made an ass of me. There will be some satisfaction, in that. I
+will write myself down an ass, for their benefit, only to enjoy the
+satisfaction of kicking a little like one. I invite you on a kicking
+expedition.”
+
+I felt for my dagger in my bosom, as I answered: “Very good! Have you
+weapons?”
+
+“Hickory! You see! a moderate axe-handle, that'll make its sentiments
+understood You are warned; you see what you are to expect. I will not
+take you in. Are you ready for a scratch?”
+
+“Allons!” I replied indifferently. The truth is, my bosom was full of a
+recklessness of a far more sweeping character than his own. I was in the
+mood for strife. It promised only the more thoroughly to prepare me
+for the darker trial which was before me, and which my secret soul was
+meditating all the while with an intense and gloomy tenacity of purpose.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+MORALS OF ENTERPRISE.
+
+
+I got him the money he required; and we were about to set forth, when he
+exclaimed abruptly:--
+
+“Put money in thy own purse, Clifford. It may be necessary to practise a
+little ruse de guerre. In playing my game, it may be important that you
+should deem to play one also. You have no scruples to fling the dice or
+flirt the cards for the nonce.”
+
+“None! But I should like to know your plans. Tell me, in the first
+place, your precise object.”
+
+“Simply to detect certain knaves, and save certain fools. The knaves
+have ruined me, and I make no lamentations; but there are others in
+their clutches still, quite as ignorant as myself, who may be saved
+before they are stripped entirely. The object is not a bad one; for the
+rest, trust to me. I mean no harm; a little mischief only; and, at most,
+a tweak of one proboscis or more. There's risk, of a certainty, as there
+is in sucking an egg; but you are a man! Not like that d--d milksop, who
+gives up his friend as soon as he gets poor, and proffers him a sermon
+by way of telling him--precious information, truly--that he's in a fair
+way to the devil. The toss of a copper for such friendship.”
+
+The humor of Kingsley tallied somewhat with my own. It had in it a spice
+of recklessness which pleased me. Perhaps, too, it tended somewhat to
+relieve and qualify the intenseness of that excitement in my brain,
+which sometimes rose to such a pitch as led me to apprehend madness.
+That I was a monomaniac has been admitted, perhaps not a moment too soon
+for the author's candor. The sagacity of the reader made him independent
+of the admission.
+
+“Your beggar,” said he, somewhat abruptly, “has the only true feeling
+of independence. Absolutely, I never knew till now what it was to be
+thoroughly indifferent to what might come to-morrow. I positively care
+for nothing. I am the first prince Sans Souci. That shall be my
+title when I get among the Cumanches. I will have a code of laws and
+constitution to suit my particular humor, and my chief penalties shall
+be inflicted upon your fellows who grunt. A sigh shall incur a week's
+solitary confinement; a sour look, pillory; and for a groan, the
+hypochondriac shall lose his head! My prime minister shall be the fellow
+who can longest use his tongue without losing his temper; and the
+man who can laugh and jest shall always have his plate at my table.
+Good-humored people shall have peculiar privileges. It shall be a
+certificate in one's favor, entitling him to so many acres, that he
+takes the world kindly. Such a man shall have two wives, provided he can
+keep them peacefully in the same house. His daughters shall have dowries
+from government. The prince of Sans Souci will himself provide for
+them.”
+
+I made some answer, half jest, half earnest, in a mood of mocking
+bitterness, which, perhaps, more truly accorded with the temper of both
+of us. He did not perceive the bitterness, however.
+
+“You jest, but mine is not altogether jest. Half-serious glimpses of
+what I tell you float certainly before my eyes. Such things may happen
+yet, and the southwest is the world in which you are yet to see many
+wondrous things. The time must come when Texas shall stretch to Mexico.
+These miserable slaves and reptiles--mongrel Spaniards and mongrel
+Indians--can not very long bedevil that great country. It must fall into
+other hands. It must be ours; and who, when that time comes, will carry
+into the field more thorough claims than mine. Master of myself, fearing
+nothing, caring for nothing; with a gallant steed that knows my voice,
+and answers with whinny and pricked ears to my encouragement; with a
+rifle that can clip a Mexican--dollar or man--at a hundred yards, and a
+heart that can defy the devil over his own dish, and with but one spoon
+between us--and who so likely to win his principality as myself? Look
+to see it, Clifford, I shall be a prince in Mexico; and when you hear of
+the prince Sans Souci be assured you know the man. Seek me then, and ask
+what you will. You have CARTE BLANCHE from this moment.”
+
+“I shall certainly keep it in mind, prince.”
+
+“Do so: laugh as you please; it is only becoming that you should laugh
+in the presence of Sans Souci; but do not laugh in token of irreverence.
+You must not be too skeptical. It does not follow because I am a
+dare-devil that I am a thoughtless one. I have been so, perhaps, but
+from this moment I go to work! I shall be fettered by fortune no
+longer. Thank Heaven, that is now done--gone--lost; I am free from its
+incumbrance! I feel myself a prince, indeed; a man, every inch of me.
+This night I devote as a fitting finish to my old lifeless existence.
+
+“Hear me!” he continued; “you laugh again, Clifford--very good! Laugh
+on, but hear me. You shall hear more of me in time to come. I fancy I
+shall be a fellow of considerable importance, not in Texas simply, or
+in Mexico, but here--here in your own self-opinionated United States.
+Suppose a few things, and go along with me while I speak them. That
+Texas must stretch to Mexico I hold to be certain. A very few years will
+do that. It needs only thirty thousand more men from our southern and
+southwestern States, and the brave old English tongue shall arouse the
+best echoes in the city of Montezuma! That done, and floods of people
+pour in from all quarters. It needs nothing but a feeling of security
+and peace--a conviction that property will be tolerably safe, under
+a tolerably stable government--in other words, an Anglo-Saxon
+government--to tempt millions of discontented emigrants from all
+quarters of the world. Will this result have no results of its own,
+think you? Will the immense resources of Mexico and Texas, represented,
+as they then will be, by a stern, pressing, performing people, have no
+effect upon these states of yours? They will have the greatest; nay,
+they will become essential to balance your own federal weight, and keep
+you all in equilibrio. For look you, the first hubbub with Great Britain
+gives you Canada, at the expense of some of your coast-towns, a few
+millions of treasure, and the loss of fifty thousand men. A bad exchange
+for the south; for Canada will make six ponderous states, the policy
+and character of which will be New England all over. To balance this you
+will have your Florida territory, [Footnote: Florida, since admitted,
+but unhappily, as a single state.] of which two feeble states may be
+made. Not enough for your purposes. But the same war with England will
+render it necessary that your fleet should take possession of Cuba;
+which, after a civil apology to Spain for taking such a liberty with her
+possessions, and, perhaps, a few million by way of hush money, you
+carve into two more states, and, in this manner, try to bolster up your
+federal relations. How many of her West India islands Great Britain will
+be able to keep after such a war, is another problem, the solution of
+which will depend upon the relative strength of fleets and success of
+seamanship. These islands, which should of right be ours, and without
+which we can never be sure against any maritime power so great and so
+arrogant as England, once conquered by our arms, find their natural,
+moral, and social affinities in the southern states entirely; and, so
+far, contribute to strengthen you in your congressional conflicts.
+But these are not enough, for the simple reason that the population of
+states, purely agricultural, never makes that progress which is made in
+this respect by a commercial and manufacturing people. With the command
+of the gulf, the possession of an independent fleet by the Texans, the
+political characteristics of the states of Carolina, Georgia, Florida,
+Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Arkansas, must undergo certain
+marked changes, which can only be neutralized by the adoption, on the
+part of these states, of a new policy corresponding with their change of
+interests. How far the cultivation of cotton by Texas will lead to its
+abandonment in Carolina and Georgia, is a question which the next
+ten years must solve. That they will be compelled to abandon it is
+inevitable, unless they can succeed in raising the article at six cents;
+a probability which no cotton-planter in either of these states will be
+willing to contemplate now for an instant. Meanwhile, Texas is spreading
+herself right and left. She conquers the Cumanches, subdues the native
+mongrel Mexicans. Her Hoestons and Lamars are succeeded by other and
+abler men, under whose control the evils of government, which followed
+the sway of such small animals as the Guerreros, and the Bolivars, the
+Bustamentes, and Sant' Annas, are very soon eradicated; and the country,
+the noblest that God ever gave to man in the hands of men, becomes a
+country!--a great and glorious country--stretching from the gulf to the
+Pacific, and providing the natural balance, which, in a few years, the
+southern state of this Union will inevitably need, by which alone your
+great confederacy will be kept together. You see, therefore, why I speed
+to Texas. Should I not, with my philosophy, my horse and my rifle--not
+to speak of stout heart and hand--reasonably aspire to the principality
+of Sans Souci? Laugh, if you please, but be not irreverent. You shall
+have carte blanche then if you will have a becoming faith now, on the
+word of a prince. I say it, It is written--Sans Souci.” [Footnote: All
+these speculations were written in 1840-'41. I need not remark upon
+those which have since been verified.]
+
+“Altissimo, excellentissimo, serenissimo!”
+
+“Bravissimo, you improve; you will make a courtier--but mum now about my
+projects. We must suppress our dignities here. We are at the entrance of
+our hell!”
+
+We had reached the door of a low habitation in a secluded street.
+The house was of wood--an ordinary hovel of two stories. A cluster
+of similar fabrics surrounded it, most of which I afterward
+discovered--though this fact could not be conjectured by an observer
+from the street--were connected by blind alleys, inner courts, and
+chambers and passages running along the ground floors. We stopped an
+instant, Kingsley having his hand upon the little iron knocker, a single
+black ring, that worked against an ordinary iron knob.
+
+“Before I knock,” said he, in a whisper, “before I knock, Clifford, let
+me say that if you have any reluctance--”
+
+“None! none! knock!”
+
+“You will meet with some dirty rascals, and you must not only meet them
+with seeming civility, but as if you shared in their tastes--sought the
+same objects only--the getting of money--the only object which alone is
+clearly comprehensible by their understanding.”
+
+“Go ahead! I will see you through.”
+
+“A word more! Get yourself in play at a different table from me. You
+will find rogues enough around, ready to relieve you of your Mexicans.
+Leave me to my particular enemy; you will soon see whose shield I
+touch--but keep an occasional eye upon us; and all that I ask farther at
+your hands, should you see us by the ears, is to keep other fingers from
+taking hold of mine.”
+
+A heavy stroke of the knocker, followed by three light ones and a second
+heavy stroke, produced us an answer from within. The door unclosed, and
+by the light of a dim lamp, I discovered before me, as a sort of warden,
+a little yellow, weather-beaten, skin-dried Frenchman, whom I had
+frequently before seen at a fruit-shop in another part of the city. He
+looked at me, however, without any sign of recognition--with a blank,
+dull, indifferent countenance; motioned us forward in silence, and
+reclosing the door, sunk into a chair immediately behind it. I followed
+my companion through a passage which was unfathomably dark, up a flight
+of stairs, which led us into a sort of refreshment room. Tables were
+spread, with decanters, glasses, and tumblers upon them, that appeared
+to be in continual use. In a recess, stood that evil convenience of
+most American establishments, whether on land or sea, a liquor bar; its
+shelves crowded with bottles, all of which seemed amply full, and ready
+to complete the overthrow of the victim, which the other appliances of
+such a dwelling must already have actively begun.
+
+“Here you may take in the Dutch courage, Clifford, should you lack the
+native. This, I know, is not the case with you, and yet the novelty of
+one's situation frequently overcomes a sensitive mind like fear. Perhaps
+a julep may be of use.”
+
+“None for me. I need no farther stimulant than the mere sense of
+movement. I take fire, like a wheel, by my own progress.”
+
+“Pretty much the same case with myself. But I have been in the habit
+of drinking here, of late, and too deeply. To-night, however, as I said
+before, ends all these habits. If there is honey in the carcass, and
+strength from the sleep, there is wisdom from the folly, and virtue
+from the vice. There is a moral as well as a physical recoil, that most
+certainly follows the overcharge; and really, speaking according to my
+sincere conviction I never felt myself to be a better man, than just at
+this moment when I am about to do that which my own sense of morality
+fails altogether to justify. I do not know that I make you understand my
+feelings; I scarcely understand them myself; but of this sort they are,
+and I am really persuaded that I never felt in a better disposition to
+be a good man and a working man than just at the close of a career which
+has been equally profligate and idle.”
+
+I think my companion can be understood. There seems, in fact very little
+mystery in his moral progress. I understood him, but did not answer. I
+was not anxious to keep up the ball of conversation which he had begun
+with a spirit so mixed up of contradictions--so earnest yet so playful.
+A deep sense of shame unquestionably lurked beneath his levity; and yet
+I make no question that he felt in truth, and for the first time, that
+degree of mental hardihood of which he boasted.
+
+He advanced through the refreshment-room, to a door which led to an
+apartment in an adjoining tenement. It was closed, but unfastened. The
+sound of voices, an occasional buzz, or a slight murmur, came to our
+ears from within; that of rattling dice and rolling balls was more
+regular and more intelligible. Kingsley laid his hand upon the latch,
+and looked round to me. His eye was kindled with a playful sort of
+malicious light. A smile of pleasant bitterness was on his lips. He said
+to me in a whisper:--
+
+“Stake your money slowly. A Mexican is the lowest stake. Keep to that,
+and lose as little as possible. You will soon see me sufficiently
+busy, and I will endeavor to urge my labors forward, so as to make your
+purgatory a short one. I shall only wait till I feel myself cheated in
+the game, to begin that which I came for. See that I have fair play in
+THAT, MON AMI, and I care very little about the other.”
+
+He lifted the latch as he concluded, and I followed him into the
+apartment.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+THE HELL.
+
+
+The scene that opened upon us was, to me, a painfully interesting one.
+It was a mere hell, without any of those attractive adjuncts which, in a
+diseased state of popular refinement, such as exists in the fashionable
+atmospheres of London and Paris, provides it with decorations, and
+conceals its more discouraging and offensive externals. The charms of
+music, lovely women, gay lights, and superb drapery and furniture,
+were here entirely wanting. No other arts beyond the single passion
+for hazard, which exists, I am inclined to think, in a greater or less
+degree in every human breast, were here employed to beguile the young
+and unsuspecting mind into indulgence. The establishment into which I
+had fallen, seemed to presuppose an acquaintance, already formed, of the
+gamester with his fascinating vice. It was evidently no place to
+seduce the uninitiate. The passion must have been already awakened--the
+guardianship of the good angel lulled into indifference or
+slumber--before the young mind could be soon reconciled to the moral
+atmosphere of such a scene.
+
+The apartment was low and dimly lighted. Groups of small tables intended
+for two persons were all around. In the centre of the floor were
+tables of larger size, which were surrounded by the followers of Pharo.
+Unoccupied tables, here and there, were sprinkled with cards and domino;
+while, as if to render the characteristics of the place complete, a
+vapor of smoke and a smell of beer assailed our senses as we entered.
+
+There were not many persons present--I conjectured, at a glance, that
+there might be fifteen; but we heard occasional voices from an inner
+room, and a small door opening in the rear discovered a retreat like
+that we occupied, in the dim light of which I perceived moving faces
+and shadows, and Kingsley informed me that there were several rooms all
+similarly occupied with ours.
+
+An examination of the persons around me, increased the unpleasant
+feelings which the place had inspired. With the exception of a few, the
+greater number were evidently superior to their employments. Several of
+them were young men like my companion--men not yet lost to sensibility,
+who looked up with some annoyance as they beheld Kingsley accompanied
+by a stranger. Two or three of the inmates were veteran gamesters.
+You could see THAT in their business-like nonchalance--their rigid
+muscles--the manner at once demure and familiar. They were evidently
+“habitues del l'enfer”--men to whom cards and dice were as absolutely
+necessary now, as brandy and tobacco to the drunkard. These men were
+always at play. Even the smallest interval found them still shuffling
+the cards, and looking up at every opening of the door, as if in
+hungering anticipation of the prey. At such periods alone might you
+behold any expression of anxiety in their faces. This disappeared
+entirely the moment that they were in possession of the victim.
+That imperturbable composure which distinguished them was singularly
+contrasted with the fidgety eagerness and nervous rapidity by which you
+could discover the latter; and I glanced over the operations of the two
+parties, as they were fairly shown in several sets about the room, with
+a renewed feeling of wonder how a man so truly clever and strong, in
+some things, as Kingsley, should allow himself to be drawn so deeply
+into such low snares; the tricks of which seemed so apparent, and
+the attractions of which, in the present instance, were obviously so
+inferior and low. I little knew by what inoffensive and gradual changes
+the human mind, having once commenced its downward progress, can hurry
+to the base; nor did I sufficiently allow for that love of hazard
+itself, in games of chance, which I have already expressed the opinion,
+is natural to the proper heart of man, belongs to a rational curiosity,
+and arises, most probably, from that highest property of his intellect,
+namely, the love of art and intellectual ingenuity. It would be very
+important to know this fact, since then, instead of the blind hostility
+which is entertained for sports of this description, by certain classes
+of moralists among us, we might so employ their ministry as to deprive
+them of their hurtfulness and make them permanently beneficial in the
+cause of good education.
+
+Kingsley seemed to conjecture my thoughts. A smile of lofty significance
+expressing a feeling of mixed scorn and humility, rose upon his
+countenance--as if admitting his own feebleness, while insisting upon
+his recovered strength, A sentence which he uttered to me in a whisper,
+at this moment, was intended to convey some such meaning.
+
+“It was only when thrown to the earth, Clifford, that the wrestler
+recovered his strength.”
+
+“That fable,” I replied, “proves that he was no god, at least. Of the
+earth, earthy, he found strength only in his sphere. The moment he
+aspired above it the god crushed him. I doubt if Hercules could have
+derived any benefit from the same source.”
+
+“Ah! I am no Hercules, but you will also find that I am no Antaeus. I
+fall, but I rise again, and I am not crushed. This is peculiarly the
+source of HUMAN strength.”
+
+“Better not to fall.”
+
+“Ah! you are too late from Utopia. But--”
+
+We were interrupted; a voice at my elbow--a soft, clear, insinuating
+voice addressed my companion:--
+
+“Ah, Monsieur Kingsley, I rejoice to see you.”
+
+Kingsley gave me a single look, which said everything, as he turned to
+meet the new-comer. The latter continued:--
+
+“Though worsted in that last encounter, you do not despair, I see.”
+
+“No! why should I?”
+
+“True, why? Fortune baffles skill, but what of that? She is capricious.
+Her despotism is feminine; and in her empire, more certainly than any
+other, it may be said boldly, that, with change of day there is change
+of doom. It is not always rain.”
+
+“Perhaps not, but we may have such a long spell of it that everything is
+drowned. 'It's a long lane,' says the proverb, 'that has no turn;' but a
+man be done up long before he gets to the turning place.”
+
+The other replied by some of the usual commonplaces by which, in
+condescending language, the gamester provoked and stimulates his
+unconscious victim. Kingsley, however, had reached a period of
+experience which enabled him to estimate these phrases at their proper
+worth.
+
+“You would encourage me,” he said quietly, and in tones which, to the
+unnoteful ear, would have seemed natural enough, but which, knowing him
+as I did, were slightly sarcastic, and containing a deeper signification
+than they gave out: “but you are the better player. I am now convinced
+of that. Something there is in fortune, doubtless; my self-esteem makes
+me willing to admit that; and yet I do not deceive myself. You have been
+too much for me--you are!”
+
+“The difference is trifling, very trifling, I suspect. A little more
+practice will soon reconcile that.”
+
+“Ha! ha! you forget the practice is to be paid for.”
+
+“True, but it is the base spirit only that scruples at the cost of its
+accomplishments.”
+
+“Surely, surely!”
+
+“You are fresh for the encounter to-night?”
+
+“Pleasantly put! Is the query meant for the player or his purse?”
+
+“Good, very good! Why, truly, there is no necessary affinity between
+them.”
+
+“And yet the one without the other would scarcely be able to commend
+himself to so excellent an artist as Mr. Latour Cleveland. Clifford, let
+me introduce you to my ENEMY; Mr. Cleveland, my FRIEND.”
+
+In this manner was I introduced. Thus was I made acquainted with the
+particular individual whom it was the meditated purpose of Kingsley to
+expose. But, though thus marked in the language of his introduction,
+there was nothing in the tone or manner of my companion, at all
+calculated to alarm the suspicions of the other. On the contrary, there
+was a sort of reckless joviality in the air of ABANDON, with which
+he presented me and spoke. A natural curiosity moved me to examine
+Cleveland more closely. He was what we should call, in common speech, a
+very elegant young man. He was probably thirty or thirty-five years of
+age, tall, graceful, rather slenderish, and of particular nicety in his
+dress. All his clothes were disposed with the happiest precision. White
+kid-gloves covered his taper fingers. Withdrawn, a rich diamond
+blazed upon one hand, while a seal-ring, of official dimensions, with
+characters cut in lava, decorated the other. His movements betrayed the
+same nice method which distinguished the arrangement of his dress. His
+evolutions might all have been performed by trumpet signal, and to the
+sound of measured music. He was evidently one of those persons whose
+feelings are too little earnest, ever to affect their policy; too little
+warm ever to disparage the rigor of their customary play; one of those
+cold, nice men, who, without having a single passion at work to produce
+one condition of feeling higher than another, are yet the very ideals of
+the most narrow and concentrated selfishness. His face was thin, pale,
+and intelligent. His lips were thick, however--the eyes bright, like
+those of a snake, but side-looking, never direct, never upward, and
+always with a smiling shyness in their glance, in which a suspicious
+mind like my own would always find sufficient occasion for distrust.
+
+Mr. Cleveland bestowed a single keen glance upon me while going
+through the ordeal of introduction. But his scrutiny labored under one
+disadvantage. His eyes did not encounter mine! One loses a great deal,
+if his object be the study of human nature, if he fails in this respect.
+
+“Much pleasure in making your acquaintance, Mr. Clifford; I trust,
+however, you will find me no worse enemy than your friend has done.”
+
+“If he find YOU no worse, he will find himself no better. He will pay
+for his enmity, whatever its degree, as I have done, and be wiser, by
+reason of his losses.”
+
+“Ah! you think too much of your ill fortunes. That is bad. It takes from
+your confidence and so enfeebles your skill. You should think of it
+less seriously. Another cast, and the tables change. You will have your
+revenge.”
+
+“I WILL!” said Kingsley with some emphasis, and a gravity which the
+other did not see. He evidently heard the words only as he had
+been accustomed to hear them--from the lips of young gamesters who
+perpetually delude themselves with hopes based upon insane expectations.
+A benignant smile mantled the cheeks of the gamester.
+
+“Ah, well! I am ready; but if you think me too much for you--”
+
+He paused. The taunt was deliberately intended. It was the customary
+taunt of the gamester. On the minds of half the number of young men, it
+would have had the desired effect--of goading vanity, and provoking the
+self-esteem of the conceited boy into a sort of desperation, when the
+powers of sense and caution become mostly suspended, and no unnecessary
+suspicion or watchfulness then interferes to increase the difficulty of
+plucking the pigeon. I read the smile on Kingsley's lip. It was brief,
+momentary, pleasantly contemptuous. Then, suddenly, as if he had newly
+recollected his policy, his countenance assumed a new expression--one
+more natural to the youth who has been depressed by losses, vexed at
+defeat, but flatters himself that the atonement is at hand. Perhaps,
+something of the latent purpose of his mind increased the intense
+bitterness in the manner and tones of my companion.
+
+“Too much for me, Mr. Cleveland! No, no! You are willing, I see, to rob
+good fortune of some of her dues. You crow too soon. I have a shrewd
+presentiment that I shall be quite too much FOR YOU to-night.”
+
+A pleasant and well-satisfied smile of Cleveland answered the speaker.
+
+“I like that,” said he; “it proves two things, both of which please me.
+Your trifling losses have not hurt your fortunes nor the adverse run of
+luck made you despond of better success hereafter. It is something of
+a guaranty in favor of one's performance that he is sure of himself. In
+such case he is equally sure of his opponent.”
+
+“Look to it, then, for I have just that sort of self-guaranty which
+makes me sure of mine. I shall play deeply, that I may make the most
+of my presentiments. Nay, to show you how confident I am, this night
+restores me all that I have lost, or leaves me nothing more to lose.”
+
+The eyes of the other brightened.
+
+“That is said like a man. I thank you for your warning. Shall we begin?”
+
+“Ready, ay, ready!” was the response of Kingsley, as he turned to one of
+the tables. Quietly laying down upon it the short, heavy stick which
+he carried, he threw off his gloves, and rubbed his hands earnestly
+together, laughing the while without restraint, as if possessed suddenly
+of some very pleasant and ludicrous fancy.
+
+“They laugh who win,” remarked Cleveland, with something of coldness in
+his manner.
+
+“Ha! ha! ha!” was the only answer of Kingsley to this remark. The
+other continued--and I now clearly perceived that his purpose was
+provocation:--
+
+“It is certainly a pleasure to win your money, Kingsley--you bear it
+with so much philosophy. Nay, it seems to give you pleasure, and thus
+lessens the pain I should otherwise feel in receiving the fruits of my
+superiority.”
+
+“Ha! ha! ha!” again repeated Kingsley. “Excuse me, Mr. Cleveland. I
+am reminded of your remark, 'They laugh who win.' I am laughing, as
+it were, anticipatively. I am so certain that I shall have my revenge
+to-night.”
+
+Cleveland looked at him for a moment with some curiosity, then called:--
+
+“Philip!”
+
+He was answered by a young mulatto--a tall, good-looking fellow, who
+approached with a mixed air of equal deference and self-esteem, plaited
+frills to a most immaculately white shirt-collar, a huge bulbous
+breastpin in his bosom, chains and seals, and all the usual equipments
+of Broadway dandyism. The fellow approached us with a smile; his eyes
+looking alternately to Cleveland and Kingsley, and, as I fancied, with
+no unequivocal sneer in their expression, as they settled on the latter.
+A significance of another kind appeared in the look of Cleveland as he
+addressed him.
+
+“Get us the pictures, Philip--the latest cuts--and bring--ay, you may
+bring the ivories.”
+
+In a few moments, the preliminaries being despatched, the two were
+seated at a table, and a couple of packs of cards were laid beside them.
+Kingsley drew my attention to the cards. They were of a kind that my
+experience had never permitted me to see before. In place of ordinary
+kings and queens and knaves, these figures were represented in attitudes
+and costumes the most indecent--such as the prolific genius of Parisian
+bawdry alone could conceive and delineate. It seems to be a general
+opinion among rogues that knavery is never wholly triumphant unless the
+mind is thoroughly degraded; and for this reason it is, perhaps, that
+establishments devoted to purposes like the present, have, in most
+countries, for their invariable adjuncts, the brothel and the bar-room.
+If they are not in the immediate tenement, they are sufficiently nigh
+to make the work of moral prostitution comparatively easy, in all its
+ramifications, with the young and inconsiderate mind. Kingsley turned
+over the cards, and I could see that while affecting to show me the
+pictures he was himself subjecting the cards to a close inspection of
+another kind. This object was scarcely perceptible to myself, who knew
+his suspicions, and could naturally conjecture his policy. It did not
+excite the alarm of his antagonist.
+
+The parties sat confronting each other. Kingsley drew forth a wallet,
+somewhat ostentatiously, which he laid down beside him. The sight of
+his wallet staggered me. By its bulk I should judge it to have held
+thousands; yet he had assured me that he had nothing beside, the one
+hundred dollars which he had procured from me. My surprise increased
+as I saw him open the wallet, and draw from one of its pockets
+the identical roll which I had put into his hands. The bulk of the
+pocket-book seeemed (sic) scarcely to be diminished. My suspicions
+were beginning to be roused. I began to think that he had told me a
+falsehood; but he looked up at this instant, and a bright manly smile
+on his deep purposeful countenance, reassured me. I felt that there was
+some policy in the business which was not for me then to fathom. The
+cards were cut. A box of dice was also in the hands of Cleveland.
+
+“Spots or pictures?” said Cleveland.
+
+“Pictures first, I suppose,” said Kingsley, “till the blood gets up.
+The ivories then as the most rapid. But these pictures are really so
+tempting. A new supply, Philip!”
+
+“Just received, sir,” said the other.
+
+“And how shall we begin?” demanded Cleveland, drawing a handful of
+bills, gold, and silver, from his pocket; “yellow, white, or brown?”
+
+It was thus, I perceived, that gold, silver, and paper money, were
+described.
+
+“Shall it be child's play, or--”
+
+“Man's, man's!” replied Kingsley, with some impatience “I am for
+beginning with a cool hundred,” and, to my consternation, he unfolded
+the roll he had of me, counted out the bills, refolded them and placed
+them in a saucer, where they were soon covered with a like sum by
+his antagonist. I was absolutely sickened, and stared aghast upon my
+reckless companion. He looked at me with a smile.
+
+“To your own game, Clifford. You will find men enough for your money in
+either of the rooms. Should you run short, come to me.”
+
+Thus confidently did he speak; yet he had actually but the single
+hundred which he had so boldly staked on the first issue. I thought him
+lost; but he better knew his game than I. He also knew his man. The
+eyes of Cleveland were on the huge wallet in reserve, of which the “cool
+hundred” might naturally be considered a mere sample. I had not courage
+to wait for the result, but wandered off, with a feeling not unallied to
+terror, into an adjoining apartment.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+FALSE LUCK.
+
+
+Though confounded with what I had seen of the proceedings of Kingsley, I
+was yet willing to promote, so far as I could, the purpose for which we
+came. I felt too, that, unless I played, that purpose, or my own, might
+reasonably incur suspicion. To rove through the several rooms of a
+gambling-house, surveying closely the proceedings of others, without
+partaking, in however slight a degree, in the common business of the
+establishment, was neither good policy nor good manners. Unless there to
+play, what business had I there? Accordingly I resolved to play. But of
+these games I knew nothing. It was necessary to choose among them,
+and, without a choice I turned to one of the tables where the genius of
+Roulette presided. A motley group, none of whom I knew, surrounded it. I
+placed my dollar upon one of the spots, red or black, I know not which,
+and saw it, in a moment after, spooned up with twenty others by the
+banker. I preferred this form of play to any other, for the simple
+reason that it did not task my own faculties, and left me free to bestow
+my glances on the proceedings of my friend. But I soon discovered that
+the contagion of play is irresistible; and so far from putting my stake
+down at intervals, and with philosophic indifference, I found myself,
+after a little while, breathlessly eager in the results. These, after
+the first few turns of the machine, had ceased to be unfavorable. I was
+confounded to discover myself winning. Instead of one I put down two
+Mexicans.
+
+“Put down ten,” said one of the bystanders, a dark, sulky-looking little
+yellow man, who seemed a veteran at these places. “You are in luck--make
+the most of it.”
+
+The master of the ceremonies scowled upon the speaker; and this
+determined me to obey his suggestions. I did so, and doubled the money;
+left my original stake and the winnings on the same spot, and doubled
+that also; and it was not long before, under this stimulus of success,
+and the novelty of my situation, I found myself as thoroughly anxious
+and intensely interested, as if I had gone to the place in compliance
+with a natural passion. I know not how long I had continued in this way,
+but I was still fortunate. I had doubled my stakes repeatedly, and my
+pockets were crammed with money.
+
+“Stop now, if you are wise,” whispered the same sulky-looking little man
+who had before urged me to go on more boldly, as he sidled along by me
+for this object; “never ride a good horse to death. There's a time to
+stop just as there's a time to push. You had better stop now. Stake
+another dollar and you lose all your winnings.”
+
+“Let the gentleman play his own game, Brinckoff. I don't see why you
+come here to spoil sport.”
+
+Such was the remark of the keeper of the table. He had overheard my
+counsellor. He felt his losses, and was angry. I saw that, and it
+determined me. I took the counsel of the stranger. I was the more
+willing to do so, as I reproached myself for my inattention to my
+friend. It was time to see what had been his progress, and I prepared
+to leave the theatre of my own success. Before doing so, I turned to
+my counsellor, and thus addressed him: “Your advice has made me win;
+I trust I will not offend a gentleman who has been so courteous, by
+requesting him to take my place upon a small capital.”
+
+I put twenty pieces into his hand.
+
+“I am but a young beginner,” I continued, “and I owe you for my first
+lesson.”
+
+“You are too good,” he said, but his hand closed over the dollars. The
+keeper of the table renewed his murmurs of discontent as he saw me turn
+away.
+
+“Ah! bah! Petit, what's the use to grumble?” demanded my representative.
+“Do you suppose I will give up my sport for yours? When would I get a
+sixpence to stake, if it were not that I was kind to young fellows just
+beginning? There; growl no more; the twenty Mexicans upon the red!”
+
+The next minute my gratuity was swallowed up in the great spoon of
+the banker. I was near enough, to see the result. I placed another ten
+pieces in the hand of the unsuccessful gambler.
+
+“Very good,” said he; “very much obliged to you; but if you please, I
+will do no more to-night. It's not my lucky night. I've lost every set.”
+
+“As you please--when you please.”
+
+“You are a gentleman,” he said; “the sooner you go home the better. A
+young beginner seldom wins in the small hours.”
+
+This was said in another whisper. I thanked him for his further
+suggestion, and turned away, leaving him to a side squabble with the
+banker, who finally concluded by telling him that he never wished to see
+him at his table.
+
+“The more fool you, Petit,” said Brinckoff; “for the youngster that wins
+comes back, and he does not always win. You finish him in the end as you
+finished me, and what more would you have?”
+
+The rest, and there was much more, was inaudible to me. I hurried from
+the place somewhat ashamed of my success. I doubt whether I should have
+had the like feelings had I lost. As it was, never did possession seem
+more cumbrous than the mixed gold, paper, and silver, with which my
+pockets were burdened. I gladly thought of Kingsley, to avoid thinking
+of myself. It was certain, I fancied, that he had not lost, else how
+could he have continued to play? My anxiety hurried me into the room
+where I had left him.
+
+They sat together, he and Cleveland, as before. I observed that there
+was now an expression of anxiety--not intense, but obvious enough--upon
+the countenance of the latter. Philip, too, the mulatto, stood on one
+side, contemplating the proceedings with an air of grave doubt and
+uncertainty in his countenance. No such expression distinguished the
+face of Kingsley. Never did a light-hearted, indifferent, almost mocking
+spirit, shine out more clearly from any human visage. At times he
+chuckled as with inward satisfaction. Not unfrequently he laughed aloud,
+and his reckless “Ha! ha! ha!” had more than once reached and startled
+me in the midst of my own play, in the adjoining room. The opponents had
+discarded their “pictures,” They were absolutely rolling dice for their
+stakes. I saw that the wallet of Kingsley lay untouched, and quite as
+full as ever, in the spot where he had first laid it down. A pile of
+money lay open beside him; the gold and silver pieces keeping down the
+paper. When he saw me approach, he laughed aloud, as he cried out:--
+
+“Have they disburdened you, Clifford? Help yourself. I am punishing my
+enemy famously. I can spare it.”
+
+A green, sickly smile mantled the lips of Cleveland. He replied in low,
+soft tones, such as I could only partly hear; and, a moment after, he
+swept the stake before the two, to his own side of the table. The amount
+was large, but the features of Kingsley remained unaltered, while his
+laugh was renewed as heartily as if he really found pleasure in the
+loss.
+
+“Ha! ha! ha! that is encouraging; but the end is not yet. The tug is yet
+to come!”
+
+I now perceived that Kingsley took up his wallet with one hand while he
+spread his handkerchief on his lap with the other. Into this he drew the
+pile of money which he had loose before on his side of the table, and
+appeared to busy himself in counting into it the contents of the wallet.
+This he did with such adroitness, that, though I felt assured he had
+restored the wallet to his bosom with its bulk undiminished, yet I am
+equally certain that no such conclusion could have been reached by any
+other person. This done, he lifted the handkerchief, full as it was, and
+dashed it down upon the table.
+
+“There! cover that, if you be a man!” was his speech of defiance.
+
+“How much?” huskily demanded Cleveland.
+
+“All!”
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“Yes, all. I know not the number of dollars, cents, or sixpences, but
+face it with your winnings: there need be no counting. It is loss of
+time. Stir the stuff with your fingers, and you will find it as good,
+and as much, as you have here to put against it. On that hangs my fate
+or yours. Mine for certain! I tell you, Mr. Cleveland, it is all!”
+
+Cleveland lifted the ends of the handkerchief, as if weighing its
+contents; and then, without more scruple, flung into it a pile not
+unlike it in bulk and quality: a handful of mixed gold paper, and
+silver. Kingsley grasped the dice before him, and with a single shake
+dashed them out upon the table.
+
+“Six, four, two,” cried Philip with a degree of excitement which did not
+appear in either of the active opponents. Meanwhile my heart was in my
+mouth. I looked on Kingsley with a sentiment of wonder. Every muscle
+of his face was composed into the most quiet indifference. He saw my
+glance, and smilingly exclaimed:--
+
+“I trust to my star, Clifford. Sans Souci--remember!”
+
+No time was allowed for more. The moment was a breathless one. Cleveland
+had taken up the dice. His manner was that of the most singular
+deliberation. His eyes were cast down upon the table. His lips strongly
+closed together; and now it was that I could see the keen, piercing look
+which Kingsley addressed to every movement of the gambler. I watched him
+also. He did not immediately throw the dice, and I was conscious of some
+motion which he made with his hands before he did so. What that motion
+was, however, I could neither have said nor conceived. But I saw a grim
+smile, full of intelligence, suddenly pass over Kingsley's lips. The
+dice descended upon the table with a sound that absolutely made me
+tremble.
+
+“Five, four, six!” cried Philip, loudly, with tones of evident
+exultation. I felt a sense like that of suffocation, which was
+unrelieved even by the seemingly unnatural laughter of my companion. He
+did laugh, but in a manner to render less strange and unnatural that in
+which he had before indulged. Even as he laughed he rose and possessed
+himself of the dice which the other had thrown down.
+
+“The stakes are mine,” cried Cleveland, extending his hand toward the
+handkerchief.
+
+“No!” said Kingsley, with a voice of thunder, and as he spoke, he handed
+me the kerchief of money, which I grasped instantly, and thrust with
+some difficulty into my bosom. This was done instinctively; I really
+had no thoughts of what I was doing. Had I thought at all I should most
+probably have refused to receive it.
+
+“How!” exclaimed Cleveland, his face becoming suddenly pale. “The cast
+is mine--fifteen to twelve!”
+
+“Ay, scoundrel, but the game I played for is mine! As for the cast, you
+shall try another which you shall relish less. Do you see these?”
+
+He showed the dice which he had gathered from the table. The gambler
+made an effort to snatch them from his hands.
+
+“Try that again,” said Kingsley, “and I lay this hickory over your pate,
+in a way that shall be a warning to it for ever.”
+
+By this time several persons from the neighboring tables and the
+adjoining rooms, hearing the language of strife, came rushing in.
+Kingsley beheld their approach without concern. There were several old
+gamblers among them, but the greater number were young ones.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said Kingsley, “I am very glad to see you. You come at a
+good time. I am about to expose a scoundrel to you.”
+
+“You shall answer for this, sir,” stammered Cleveland, in equal rage and
+confusion.
+
+“Answer, shall I? By Jupiter! but you shall answer too! And you shall
+have the privilege of a first answer, shall you?”
+
+“Mr. Kingsley, what is the meaning of this?” was the demand of a tall,
+dark-featured man, who now made his appearance from an inner room, and
+whom I now learned, was, in fact, the proprietor of the establishment.
+
+“Ah! Radcliffe--but before another word is wasted put your fingers into
+the left breeches pocket of that scoundrel there, and see what you will
+find.”
+
+Cleveland would have resisted. Kingsley spoke again to Radcliffe, and
+this time in stern language, which was evidently felt by the person to
+whom it was addressed.
+
+“Radcliffe, your own credit--nay, safety--will depend upon your showing
+that you have no share in this rogue's practice. Search him, if you
+would not share his punishment.”
+
+The fellow was awed, and obeyed instantly. Himself, with three others,
+grappled with the culprit. He resisted strenuously, but in vain. He was
+searched, and from the pocket in question three dice were produced.
+
+“Very good,” said Kingsley; “now examine those dice, gentlemen, and see
+if you can detect one of my initials, the letter 'K,' which I scratched
+with a pin upon each of them.”
+
+The examination was made, and the letter was found, very small and very
+faint, it is true, but still legible, upon the ace square of each of the
+dice.
+
+“Very good,” continued Kingsley; “and now, gentlemen, with your leave--”
+
+He opened his hand and displayed the three dice with which Cleveland had
+last thrown.
+
+“Here you see the dice with which this worthy gentleman hoped to empty
+my pockets. These are they which he last threw upon the table. He
+counted handsomely by them! I threw, just before him, with those which
+you have in your hand. I had contrived to mark them previously, this
+very evening, in order that I might know them again. Why should he put
+them in his pocket, and throw with these? As this question is something
+important, I propose to answer it to your satisfaction as well as my
+own; and, for this reason, I came here, as you see, prepared to make
+discoveries.”
+
+He drew from his pocket, while he spoke, a small saddler's hammer and
+steel-awl. Fixing with the sharp point of the awl in the ace spot of the
+dice, he struck it a single but sudden blow with the hammer, split
+each of the dice in turn, and disclosed to the wondering, or seemingly
+wondering, eyes of all around, a little globe of lead in each, inclining
+to the lowest numeral, and necessarily determining the roll of the dice
+so as to leave the lightest section uppermost.
+
+“Here, gentlemen,” continued Kingsley, “you see by what process I have
+lost my money. But it is not in the dice alone. Look at these cards.
+Do you note this trace of the finger-nail, here, and there, and
+there--scarcely to be seen unless it is shown to you, but clear enough
+to the person that made it, and is prepared to look for it. Radcliffe,
+your fellow, Philip, has been concerned in this business. You must
+dismiss him, or your visitors will dismiss you. Neither myself nor my
+friends will visit you again--nay, more, I denounce you to the police.
+Am I understood?”
+
+Radcliffe assented without scruple, evidently not so anxious for justice
+as for the safety of his establishment. But it appeared that there were
+others in the room not so well pleased with the result. A hubbub
+now took place, in which three or four fellows made a rush upon
+Kingsley--Cleveland urging and clamoring from the rear, though without
+betraying much real desire to get into the conflict.
+
+But the assailants had miscalculated their forces. The youngsters in the
+establishment, regarding Kingsley's development as serving the common
+cause, were as soon at his side as myself. The scuffle was over in an
+instant. One burly ruffian was prostrated by a blow from Kingsley's
+club; I had my share in the prostration of a second, and some two others
+took to their heels, assisted in their progress by a smart application
+from every foot and fist that happened to be convenient enough for such
+a service.
+
+But Cleveland alone remained. Why he had not shared the summary fate of
+the rest it would be difficult to say, unless it was because he had kept
+aloof from the active struggle to which he had egged them on. Perhaps,
+too, a better reason--he was reserved for some more distinguishing
+punishment. Why he had shown no disposition for flight himself, was
+answered as soon as Kingsley laid down his club, which he did with a
+laugh of exemplary good-nature the moment he had felled with it his
+first assailant. The flight of his allies left the path open between
+himself and Cleveland, and, suddenly darting upon him, the desperate
+gambler aimed a blow at his breast with a dirk which he had drawn that
+instant from his own. He exclaimed as he struck:--
+
+“Here is something that escaped your search. Take this! this!”
+
+Kingsley was just lifting up the cap, which he had worn that night, from
+the table to his brows. Instinctively he dashed it into the face of
+his assassin, and his simple evolution saved him. The next moment the
+fearless fellow had grappled with his enemy, torn the weapon from his
+grasp, and, seizing him around the body as if he had been an infant,
+moved with him to an open window looking out upon a neighboring court.
+The victim struggled, yelled for succor, but before any of us could
+interpose, the resolute and powerful man in whose hold he writhed and
+struggled vainly, with the gripe of a master, had thrust him through the
+opening, his heels, in their upward evolutions, shattering a dozen of
+the panes as he disappeared from sight below. We all concluded that he
+was killed. We were in an upper chamber, which I estimated to be twenty
+or thirty feet from the ground. I was too much shocked for speech, and
+rushed to the window, expecting to behold the mangled and bloody corpse
+of the miserable criminal beneath. The laughter of Radclifle half
+reassured me.
+
+“He will not suffer much hurt,” said he; “there is something to break
+his fall.”
+
+I looked down, and there the unhappy wretch was seen squatting and
+clinging to the slippery shingles of an old stable, unhurt, some twelve
+feet below us, unable to reascend, and very unwilling to adopt the only
+alternative which the case presented---that of descending softly upon
+the rank bed of stable-ordure which the provident care of the gardener
+had raised up on every hand, the reeking fumes of which were potent
+enough to expel us very soon from our place of watch at the window.
+Of the further course of the elegant culprit we took no heed. The
+ludicrousness of his predicament had the effect of turning the whole
+adventure into merriment among those who remained in the establishment;
+and availing ourselves of the clamorous mirth of the parties, we made
+our escape from the place with a feeling, on my part, of indescribable
+relief.
+
+Chapter XXXI
+
+How the Game was Played
+
+“WELL, we may breathe awhile,” said Kingsley, as we found ourselves once
+more in the pure air, and under the blue sky of midnight. “We have got
+through an ugly task with tolerable success. You stood by me like a man,
+Clifford. I need not tell you how much I thank you.”
+
+“I heartily rejoice that you are through with it, Kingsley; but I am not
+so sure that we can deliberately approve of everything that we may have
+been required by the circumstances of the case to do.”
+
+“What! you did not relish the playing? I respect your scruples, but
+it does not follow that it must become a habit. You played to enable a
+friend to get back from a knave what he lost as a fool, and to punish
+the knavery that he could not well hope to reform. I do not see,
+considering the amount of possible good which we have done, that the
+evil is wholly inexcusable.”
+
+“Perhaps not; but this heap of money which I have in my bosom--should
+you have taken it?”
+
+“And why not? Whose should it be, if not mine?”
+
+“You took with you but one hundred dollars. I should say you have more
+than a thousand here.”
+
+“I trust I have,” said he coolly. “What of that? I won it fairly, and he
+played fairly, until the last moment when everything was at stake.
+His false dice were then called in--and would you have me yield to his
+roguery what had been the fruits of a fair conflict? No! no! friend of
+mine! no! no! all these things did I consider well before I took you
+with me to-night. I have been meditating this business for a week, from
+the moment when a friendly fellow hinted to me that I was the victim of
+knavery.”
+
+“But that wallet of money, Kingsley? You assured me that you were
+pennyless.”
+
+“All! that wallet bedevilled Mr. Latour Cleveland, as it seems to have
+bedevilled you. There, by the starlight, look at the contents of this
+precious wallet, and see how much further your eyes can pierce into the
+mystery of my proceedings.'”
+
+He handed me the wallet, which I opened. To my great surprise, I found
+it stuffed with old shreds of newspaper, bits of rag, even cotton, but
+not a cent of money.
+
+“There! ara you satisfied? You shall have that wallet, with all its
+precious contents, as a keepsake from me. It will remind you of a
+strange scene. It will have a history for you when you are old, which
+you will tell with a chuckle to your children.”
+
+“Children!” I involuntarily murmured, while my voice trembled, and a
+tear started to my eye. That one word recalled me back, at once, to
+home, to my particular woes--to all that I could have wished banished
+for ever, even in the unwholesome stews and steams of a gaming-house.
+But Kingsley did not suffer me to muse over my own afflictions. He did
+not seem to hear the murmuring exclamation of my lips. He continued:--
+
+“I have no mysteries from you, and you need, as well as deserve, an
+explanation. All shall be made clear to you. The reason of this wallet,
+and another matter which staggered you quite as much--my audacious bet
+of a cool hundred--your own disconsolate hundred--as a first stake! I
+have no doubt you thought me mad when you heard me.”
+
+I confessed as much. He laughed.
+
+“As I tell you, I had studied my game beforehand, even in its smallest
+details. By this time, I knew something of the play of most gamblers,
+and of Mr. Latour Cleveland, in particular. These people do not risk
+themselves for trifles. They play fairly enough when the temptation is
+small. They cheat only when the issues are great. I am speaking now
+of gamesters on the big figure, not of the petty chapmen who rule over
+their pennies and watch the exit of a Mexican, with the feelings of one
+who sees the last wave of a friend's handkerchief going upon the high
+seas. My big wallet and my hundred dollar bet, were parts of the same
+system. The heavy stake at the beginning led to the inference that I
+had corresponding resources. My big wallet lying by me, conveniently
+and ostentatiously, confirmed this impression. The cunning gambler was
+willing that I should win awhile. His policy was to encourage me; to
+persuade me on and on, by gradual stimulants, till all was at stake.
+Well! I knew this. All was at stake finally, and I had then to call into
+requisition all the moral strength of which I was capable, so that eye
+and lip and temper should not fail me at those moments when I would need
+the address and agency of all.
+
+“The task has been an irksome one; the trial absolutely painful. But I
+should have been ashamed, once commencing the undertaking, not to have
+succeeded. He, too, was not impregnable. I found out his particular
+weakness. He was a vain man; vain of his bearing, which he deemed
+aristocratic; his person, which he considered very fine. I played with
+these vanities. Failing to excite him on the subject of the game, I made
+HIMSELF my subject. I chattered with him freely; so as to prompt him
+to fancy that I was praising his style, air, appearance; anon, by some
+queer jibe, making him half suspicious that I was quizzing him. My
+frequent laughter, judiciously disposed, helped this effect; and, to a
+certain extent, I succeeded. He became nervous, and was excited, though
+you may not have seen it. I saw it in the change of his complexion,
+which became suddenly quite bilious. I found, too, that he could only
+speak with some effort, when, if you remember, before we began to play,
+his tongue, though deliberate, worked pat enough. I felt my power over
+him momently increase; and I sometimes won where he did not wish it. I
+do verily believe that he ceased to see the very marks which he himself
+had made upon the cards. Nervous agitation, on most persons, produces a
+degree of blindness quite as certainly as it affects the speech.
+Well, you saw the condition of our funds when you re-appeared. I had
+determined to bring the business to a close. I had marked the dice,
+actually before his face, while we took a spell of rest over a bottle
+of porter. I had scratched them quietly with a pin which I carried in
+my sleeve for that purpose, while he busied himself with a fidgety
+shuffling of the cards. My leg, thrown over one angle of the table,
+partly covered my operations, and I worked upon the dice in my lap. You
+may suppose the etching was bad enough, doing precious little credit to
+the art of engraving in our country. But the thing was thoroughly done,
+for I had worked myself into a rigorous sort of philosophic desperation
+which made me as cool as a cucumber. To seem to empty the contents of
+the wallet into my lap was my next object, and this I succeeded in,
+without his suspecting that my movement was a sham only. The purse thus
+made up, I emphatically told him was all I had--this was the truth--and
+then came the crisis. His trick was to be employed now or never. It
+was employed, but he had become so nervous, that I caught a sufficient
+glimpse of his proceedings. I saw the slight o'hand movement which
+he attempted, and--you know the rest. I regard the money as honestly
+mine--so far as good morals may recognise the honesty of getting money
+by gambling;--and thinking so, my dear Clifford, I have no scruple in
+begging you to share it with me. It is only fit that you, who furnished
+all the capital--you see I say nothing of the wallet which should,
+however, be priceless in our eyes--should derive at least a moiety of
+the profit. It is quite as much yours as mine. I beg you so to consider
+it.”
+
+I need not say, however, that I positively refused to accept this offer.
+I would take nothing but the hundred which I had lent him, and placed
+the handkerchief with all its contents into his hands.
+
+“And now, Clifford, I must leave you. You have yet to learn another of
+my secrets. I take the rail-car at daylight in the morning. I am off
+for Alabama; and considering my Texan and Mexican projects, I leave you,
+perhaps, for ever.”
+
+“So soon?”
+
+“Yes, everything is ready. There need be no delay. I have no wife nor
+children to cumber me. My trunks are already packed; my resolve made;
+my last business transacted I have some lands in Alabama which I mean to
+sell. This done, I am off for the great field of performance, south and
+southwest. You shall hear of me, perhaps may wish to hear FROM me. Here
+is my address, meanwhile, in Alabama. I shall advise you of my further
+progress, and shall esteem highly a friendly scrawl from you. If you
+write, do not fail to tell me what you may hear of Mr. Latour Cleveland,
+and how he got down from the muck-heap. Write me all about it, Clifford,
+and whatever else you can about our fools and knaves, for though I leave
+them without a tear, yet, d--n 'em, I keep 'em in my memory, if it's
+only for the sake of the old city whom they bedevil.”
+
+Enough of our dialogue that night. Kingsley was a fellow of every
+excellent and some very noble qualities. We did not sympathize in sundry
+respects, but I parted from him with regret; not altogether satisfied,
+however, that there were not some defects in that reasoning by which he
+justified our proceedings with the gamblers. I turned from him with a
+sad, sick heart. In his absence the whole feeling of my domestic doubts
+and difficulties rushed back upon me freshly and with redoubled force.
+
+“Children!” I murmured mournfully, as I recalled one of his remarks;
+“children! children! these, indeed, were blessings; but if we only had
+love, truth, peace. If that damning doubt were not there!--that wild
+fear, that fatal, soul-petrifying suspicion!”
+
+I groaned audibly as I traversed the streets, and it seemed as if the
+pavements groaned hollowly in answer beneath my hurrying footsteps. In
+a moment more I had absolutely forgotten the recent strife, the strange
+scene, the accents of my friend; for but that one.
+
+“Children! children! These might bind her to me; might secure her erring
+affections; might win her to love the father, when he himself might
+possess no other power to tempt her to love. Ah! why has Providence
+denied me the blessing of a child?”
+
+Alas! it was not probable that Julia should ever have children. This was
+the conviction of our physician. Her health and constitution seemed
+to forbid the hope; and the gloomy despair under which I suffered was
+increased by this reflection. Yet, even at that moment, while thus I
+mused and murmured, my poor wife had been unexpectedly and prematurely
+delivered of an infant son--a tiny creature, in whom life was but a
+passing gleam, as of the imperfect moonlight, and of whom death took
+possession in the very instant of its birth.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+SUDDEN LESSON AND NEW SUSPICIONS.
+
+
+While I had been wasting the precious hours of midnight in a
+gaming-house, my poor Julia had undergone the peculiar pangs of a
+mother! While I had been reproaching her in my secret soul for a want
+of ardency and attachment, she had been giving me the highest proof that
+she possessed the warmest. These revelations, however, were to reach
+me slowly; and then, like those of Cassandra, they were destined to
+encounter disbelief.
+
+Leaving Kingsley, I turned into the street where my wife's mother lived.
+But the house was shut up--the company gone. I had not been heedful of
+the progress of the hours. I looked up at the tall, white, and graceful
+steeple of our ancient church, which towered in serene majesty above
+us; but, in the imperfect light I failed to read the letters upon the
+dial-plate. At that moment its solemn chimes pealed forth the hour, as
+if especially in answer to my quest. How such sounds speak to the very
+soul at midnight! They seem the voice from Time himself, informing, not
+man alone, but Eternity, of his progress to that lone night, in which
+his minutes, hours, days, and years, are equally to be swallowed up and
+forgotten.
+
+Sweet had been those bells to me in boyhood. Sad were they to me now. I
+had heard them ring forth merry peals on the holydays of the nation; and
+peals on the day of national mourning; startling and terrifying peals
+in the hour of midnight danger and alarm; but never till then had they
+spoken with such deep and searching earnestness to the most hidden
+places of my soul. That 'one, two, three, four,' which they then struck,
+as they severally pronounced the thrilling monotones, seemed to convey
+the burden of four impressive acts in a yet unfinished tragedy. My heart
+beat with a feeling of anxiety, such as overcomes us, when we look for
+the curtain to rise which is to unfold the mysterious progress of the
+catastrophe.
+
+That fifth act of mine! what was it to be? Involuntarily my lips uttered
+the name of William Edgerton! I started as if I had trodden upon a
+viper. The denouement of the drama at once grew up before my eyes. I
+felt the dagger in my grasp; I actually drew it from my bosom. I saw the
+victim before me--a smile upon his lips--a fire in his glance--an ardor,
+an intelligence, that looked like exulting passion; and my own eyes
+grew dim. I was blinded; but, even in the darkness, I struck with fatal
+precision. I felt the resistance, I heard the groan and the falling
+body; and my hair rose, with a cold, moist life of its own, upon my
+clammy and shrinking temples.
+
+I recovered from the delusion. My dagger had been piercing the empty
+air; but the feeling and the horror in my soul were not less real
+because the deed had been one of fancy only. The foregone conclusion was
+in my mind, and I well knew that fate would yet bring the victim to the
+altar.
+
+I know not how I reached my dwelling, but when there I was soon brought
+to a sober condition of the senses. I found everything in commotion.
+Mrs. Delaney, late Clifford, was there, busy in my wife's chamber, while
+her husband, surly with such an interruption to his domestic felicity,
+even at the threshold, was below, kicking his heels in solemn
+disquietude in the parlor. The servants had been despatched to bring
+her and to seek me, in the first moments of my wife's danger. She
+had consciousness enough for that, and Mrs. Delaney had summoned the
+physician. He too--the excellent old man, who had assisted us in our
+clandestine marriage--he too was there; sad, troubled, and regarding
+me with looks of apprehension and rebuke which seemed to ask why I was
+abroad at that late hour, leaving my wife under such circumstances. I
+could not meet his glance with a manly eye. They brought me the dead
+infant--poor atom of mortality--no longer mortal; but I turned away from
+the spectacle. I dared not look upon it. It was the form of a perished
+hope, ended in a dream! And such a dream! The physician gave me a brief
+explanation of the condition of things.
+
+“Your wife is very ill. It is difficult to say what will happen. Make
+up your mind for the worst. She has fever--has been delirious. But she
+sleeps now under the effect of some medicine I have given her. She will
+not sleep long; and everything will depend upon her wakening. She must
+be kept very quiet.”
+
+I asked if he could conjecture what should bring about such an event.
+“Though delicate, Julia was not out of health. She had been well during
+the evening when I left her.”
+
+“You have left her long. This is a late hour, Mr. Clifford, for a young
+husband to be out. Nothing but matter of necessity could excuse--”
+
+I interrupted him with some gravity:--
+
+“Suppose then it was a matter of necessity--of seeming necessity, at
+least.”
+
+He observed my emotion.
+
+“Do not be angry with me. I assisted your dear wife into the world,
+Clifford. I would not see her hurried out of it. She is like a child of
+my own; I feel for her as such.”
+
+I said something apologetic, I know not what, and renewed my question.
+
+“She has been alarmed or excited, perhaps; possibly has fallen while
+ascending the stair. A very slight accident will sometimes suffice to
+produce such a result with a constitution such as hers. She needs great
+watchfulness, Clifford; close attention, much solicitude. She needs and
+deserves it, Clifford.”
+
+I saw that the old man suspected me of indifference and neglect. Alas!
+whatever might be my faults in reference to my wife, indifference was
+not among them. What he had said, however, smote me to the heart. I felt
+like a culprit. I dared not meet his eye when, at daylight, he took his
+departure, promising to return in a few hours.
+
+My excellent mother-in-law was more capable and copious in her details.
+From her I learned that Julia, though anxious to depart for some time
+before, had waited for my return until the last of her guests were about
+to retire. Among these happened to be Mr. William Edgerton!
+
+“He offered his carriage, but Julia put off accepting for a long time,
+saying you would soon return. But at last he pressed her so, and seeing
+everybody else gone, she concluded to go, and Mr. Delaney helped her
+into the carriage, and Mr. Edgerton got in too, to see her home; and off
+they drove, and it was not an hour after, when Becky (the servant-girl)
+came to rout us up, saying that her mistress was dying. I hurried on my
+clothes, and Delaney--dear good man--he was just as quick; and off we
+came, and sure enough, we found her in a bad way, and nobody with her
+but the servants; and I sent off after you, and after the doctor; and
+he just came in time to help her; but she went on wofully; was very
+lightheaded; talked a great deal about you; and about Mr. Edgerton; I
+suppose because he had just been seeing her home; but didn't seem to
+know and doesn't know to this moment what has happened to her.”
+
+I have shortened very considerably the long story which Mrs. Delaney
+made of it. Rambling as it was--full of nonsense--with constant
+references to her “dear good man,” and her party, the company, herself,
+her fashion, and frivolities--there was yet something to sting and
+trouble me at the core of her narration. Edgerton and my wife linger
+to the last--Edgerton rides home with her--he and she in the carriage,
+alone, at midnight;--and then this catastrophe, which the doctor thought
+was a natural consequence of some excitement or alarm.
+
+These facts wrought like madness in my brain. Then, too, in her delirium
+she raves of HIM! Is not that significant? True, it comes from the lips
+of that malicious old woman! she, who had already hinted to me that my
+wife--her daughter--was likely to be as faithless to me as she had been
+to herself. Still, it is significant, even if it be only the invention
+of this old woman. It showed what she conjectured--what she thought to
+be a natural result of these practices which had prompted her suspicions
+as well as my own.
+
+How hot was the iron-pressure upon my brain--how keen and scorching was
+that fiery arrow in my soul, when I took my place of watch beside the
+unconscious form of my wife, God alone can know. If I am criminal--if
+I have erred with wildest error--surely I have struggled with deepest
+misery. I have been misled by wo, not temptation! Sore has been my
+struggle, sore my suffering, even in the moment of my greatest fault and
+folly. Sore!---how sore!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+STILL THE CLOUD.
+
+
+For three days and nights did I watch beside the sick bed of my wife.
+In all this time her fate continued doubtful. I doubt if any anxiety or
+attention could have exceeded mine; as it was clear to myself that,
+in spite of jealousy and suspicion, my love for her remained without
+diminution. Yet this watch was not maintained without some trials far
+more severe and searching than those which it produced upon the body.
+Her mind, wandering and purposeless, yet spoke to mine, and renewed all
+its racking doubts, and exaggerated all its nameless fears. Her veins
+burned with fever. She was fitfully delirious. Words fell from her at
+spasmodic moments--strange, incoherent words, but all full of meaning in
+my ears. I sat beside the bed on one hand, while, on one occasion, her
+mother occupied a seat upon that opposite. The eyes of my wife opened
+upon both of us--turned from me, convulsively, with an expression, as
+I thought, of disgust, then closed--while her lips, taking up their
+language, poured forth a torrent of threats and reproaches.
+
+I can not repeat her words. They rang in my ears, understood, indeed,
+but so wildly and thrillingly, that I should find it a vain task to
+endeavor to remember them. She spoke of persecution, annoyance, beyond
+propriety, beyond her powers of endurance. She threatened me--for I
+assumed myself to be the object of her denunciation--with the wrath of
+some one capable to punish--nay, to rescue her, if need be, by violence,
+from the clutches of her tyrant. Then followed another change in her
+course of speech. She no longer threatened or denounced. She derided.
+Words of bitter scorn and loathing contempt issued from those bright,
+red, burning, and always beautiful lips, which I had never supposed
+could have given forth such utterance, even if her spirit could have
+been supposed capable of conceiving it. Keen was the irony which she
+expressed--irony, which so well applied to my demerits in one great
+respect, that I could not help making the personal application.
+
+“How manly and generous,” she proceeded, “was this sort of persecution
+of one so unprotected, so dependent, so placed, that she must even be
+silent, and endure without speech or complaint, in the dread of dangers
+which, however, would not light upon her head. Oh, brave as generous!”
+ she exclaimed, with a burst of tremendous delirium, terminating in a
+shriek; “oh, brave as generous!--scarcely lion-like, however, for the
+noble beast rushes upon his victim. He does not prowl, and skulk, and
+sneak, watching, cat-like; crouching and base, in stealth and darkness.
+Very noble, but mousing spirit! Beware! Do I not know you now! Fear you
+not that I will show your baseness, and declare the truth, and guide
+other eyes to your stealthy practice? Beware! Do not drive me into
+madness!”
+
+Thus she raved. My conscience applied these stinging words of scorn,
+which seemed particularly fitted to the mean suspicious watch which I
+had kept upon her. I could have no thought that they were meant for any
+other ears than my own, and the crimson flush upon my cheeks was the
+involuntary acknowledgment which my soul made of the demerits of my
+unmanly conduct. I fancied that Julia had detected my espionage, and
+that her language had this object in reference only. But there were
+other words; and, passing with unexpected transition from the language
+of dislike and scorn, she now indulged in that of love--language timidly
+suggestive of love, as if its utterance were restrained by bashfulness,
+as if it dreaded to be heard. Then a deep sigh followed, as if from the
+bottom of her heart, succeeded by convulsive sobs, at last ending in a
+gushing flood of tears.
+
+For the space of half an hour I had been an attentive but suffering
+listener to this wild raving. My pangs followed every sentence from her
+lips, believing, as I did, that they were reproachful of myself, and
+associated with a now unrestrained expression of passion for another.
+Gradually I had ceased, in the deep interest which I felt, to be
+conscious that Mrs. Delaney was present. I leaned across the couch; I
+bent my ear down toward the lips of the speaker, eager to drink up every
+feeble sound which might help to elucidate my doubts, and subdue or
+confirm my suspicions. Then, as the accumulating conviction formed
+itself, embodied and sharp, like a knife, into my soul, I groaned aloud,
+and my teeth were gnashed together in the bitterness of my emotion! In
+that moment I caught the keen gray eyes of my mother-in-law fixed upon
+me, with a jibing expression, which spoke volumes of mockery. They
+seemed to say, “Ah! you have it now! The truth is forced upon you at
+last! You can parry it no longer. I see the iron in your soul. I behold
+and enjoy your contortions!”
+
+Fiend language! She was something of a fiend! I started from the
+bedside, and just then a flood of tears came to the relief of my wife,
+and lessened the excitement of her brain. The tears relieved her. The
+paroxysm passed away. She turned her eyes upon me, and closed them
+involuntarily, while a deep crimson tint passed over her cheek, a blush,
+which seemed to me to confirm substantially the tenor of that language
+in which, while delirious, she had so constantly indulged. It did not
+lessen the seeming shame and dislike which her countenance appeared at
+once to embody, that a soft sweet smile was upon her lips at the same
+moment, and she extended to me her hand with an air of confidence which
+staggered and surprised me.
+
+“What is the matter, dear husband? And you here, mother? Have I been
+sick? Can it be?”
+
+“Hush!” said the mother. “You have been sick ever since the night of my
+marriage.”
+
+“Ah!” she exclaimed with an air of anxiety and pain, while pressing her
+hand upon her eyes, “Ah! that night!”
+
+A shudder shook her frame as she uttered this simple and short
+sentence. Simple and short as it was, it seemed to possess a
+strange signification. That it was associated in her mind with some
+circumstances of peculiar import, was sufficiently obvious. What were
+these circumstances? Ah! that question! I ran over in my thought, in
+a single instant, all that array of events, on that fatal night, which
+could by any possibility distress me, and confirm my suspicions. That
+waltz with Edgerton--that long conference between them--that lonely ride
+together from the home of Mrs. Delaney, in a close carriage--and the
+subsequent disaster--her unconscious ravings, and the strong, strange
+language which she employed, clearly full of meaning as it was, but in
+which I could discover one meaning only! all these topics of doubt
+and agitation passed through my brain in consecutive order, and with
+a compact arrangement which seemed as conclusive as any final issue. I
+said nothing; but what I might have said, was written in my face. Julia
+regarded me with a gaze of painful anxiety. What she read in my looks
+must have been troublously impressive. Her cheeks grew paler as she
+looked. Her eyes wandered from me vacantly, and I could see her thin
+soft lips quivering faintly like rose-leaves which an envious breeze has
+half separated from the parent-flower. Mrs. Delaney watched our mutual
+faces, and I left the room to avoid her scrutiny. I only re-entered it
+with the physician. He administered medicine to my wife.
+
+“She will do very well now, I think,” he said to me when leaving the
+house; “but she requires to be treated very tenderly. All causes of
+excitement must be kept from her. She needs soothing, great care,
+watchful anxiety. Clifford, above all, you should leave her as little
+as possible. This old woman, her mother, is no fit companion for
+her--scarcely a pleasant one. I do not mean to reproach you; ascribe
+what I say to a real desire to serve and make you happy; but let me tell
+you that Mrs. Delaney has intimated to me that you neglect your wife,
+that you leave her very much at night; and she further intimates, what
+I feel assured can not well be the case, that you have fallen into other
+and much more evil habits.”
+
+“The hag!”
+
+“She is all that, and loves you no better now than before. Still, it is
+well to deprive such people of their scandal-mongering, of the meat for
+it at least. I trust, Clifford, for your own sake, that you were absent
+of necessity on Wednesday night.”
+
+“It will be enough for me to think so, sir,” was my reply.
+
+“Surely, if you DO think so; but I am too old a man, and too old a
+friend of your own and wife's family, to justify you in taking exception
+to what I say. I hope you do not neglect this dear child, for she is one
+too sweet, too good, too gentle, Clifford, to be subjected to hard usage
+and neglect. I think her one of earth's angels--a meek creature, who
+would never think or do wrong, but would rather suffer than complain.
+I sincerely hope, for your own sake, as well as hers, that you truly
+estimate her worth.”
+
+I could not answer the good old man, though I was angry with him. My
+conscience deprived me of the just power to give utterance to my anger.
+I was silent, and he forbore any further reference to the subject.
+Shortly after he took his leave, and I re-ascended the stairs. Wearing
+slippers, I made little noise, and at the door of my wife's chamber I
+caught a sentence from the lips of Mrs. Delaney, which made me forget
+everything that the doctor had been saying.
+
+“But Julia, there must have been some accident--something must have
+happened. Did your foot slip? perhaps, in getting out of the carriage,
+or in going up stairs, or--. There must have been something to frighten
+you, or hurt you. What was it?”
+
+I paused; my heart rose like a swelling, struggling mass in the gorge
+of my throat. I listened for the reply. A deep sigh followed; and then I
+heard a reluctant, faint utterance of the single word, “Nothing!”
+
+“Nothing?” repeated the old lady. “Surely, Julia, there was something.
+Recollect yourself. You know you rode home with Mr. Edgerton. It was
+past one o'clock--”
+
+“No more--no more, mother. There was nothing--nothing that I recollect.
+I know nothing of what happened. Hardly know where I am now.”
+
+I felt a momentary pang that I had lingered at the entrance. Besides,
+there was no possibility that she would have revealed anything to the
+inquisitive old woman. Perhaps, had this been probable, I should not
+have felt the scruple and the pang. The very questions of Mrs. Delaney
+were as fully productive of evil in my mind, as if Julia had answered
+decisively on every topic. I entered the room, and Mrs. Delaney, after
+some little lingering, took her departure, with a promise to return
+again soon. I paced the chamber with eyes bent upon the floor.
+
+“Come to me, Edward-come sit beside me.” Such were the gentle words of
+entreaty which my wife addressed to me. Gentle words, and so spoken--so
+sweetly, so frankly, as if from the very sacredest chamber of her heart.
+Could it be that guilt also harbored in that very heart--that it was the
+language of cunning on her lips--the cunning of the serpent? Ah! how
+can we think that with serpent-like cunning, there should be dove-like
+guilelessness? My soul revolted at the idea. The sounds of the poor
+girl's voice sounded like hissing in my ears. I sat beside her as she
+requested, and almost started, as I felt her fingers playing with the
+hair upon my temples.
+
+“You are cold to me, dear husband; ah! be not cold. I have narrowly
+escaped from death. So they tell me--so I feel! Be not cold to me. Let
+me not think that I am burdensome to you.”
+
+“Why should you think so, Julia?”
+
+“Ah! your words answer your question, and speak for me. They are so
+few--they have no warmth in them; and then, you leave me so much, dear
+husband--why, why do you leave me?”
+
+“You do not miss me much, Julia.”
+
+“Do I not! ah! you do me wrong. I miss nothing else but you. I have all
+that I had when we were first married--all but my husband!”
+
+“Do not deceive yourself, Julia; these fine speeches do not deceive
+me. I am afraid that the love of woman is a very light thing. It yields
+readily to the wind. It does not keep in one direction long, any more
+than the vane on the house-top.”
+
+“You do NOT think so, Edward. Such is not MY love. Alas! I know not how
+to make it known to you, husband, if it be not already known; and yet it
+seems to me that you do not know it, or, if you do, that you do not care
+much about it. You seem to care very little whether I love you or not.”
+
+I exclaimed bitterly, and with the energy of deep feeling.
+
+“Care little! _I_ care little whether you love me or no! Psha! Julia,
+you must think me a fool!”
+
+It did seem to me a sort of mockery, knowing my feelings as _I_
+did--knowing that all my folly and suffering came from the very
+intensity of my passion--that I should be reproached, by its object,
+with indifference! I forgot, that, as a cover for my suspicion, I had
+been striving with all the industry of art to put on the appearance of
+indifference. I did not give myself sufficient credit for the degree of
+success with which I had labored, or I might have suddenly arrived at
+the gratifying conclusion, that, while I was impressed and suffering
+with the pangs of jealousy, my wife was trembling with fear that she had
+for ever lost my affections. My language, the natural utterance of my
+real feelings, was not true to the character I had assumed. It filled
+the countenance of the suffering woman with consternation. She
+shrunk from me in terror. Her hand was withdrawn from my neck, as she
+tremulously replied:--
+
+“Oh, do not speak to me in such tones. Do not look so harshly upon me.
+What have I done?”
+
+“Ay! ay!” I muttered, turning away.
+
+She caught my hand.
+
+“Do not go--do not leave me, and with such a look! Oh! husband, I may
+not live long. I feel that I have had a very narrow escape within these
+few days past. Do not kill me with cruel looks; with words, that, if
+cruel from you, would sooner kill than the knife in savage hands. Oh!
+tell me in what have I offended? What is it you think? For what am I to
+blame? What do you doubt--suspect?”
+
+These questions were asked hurriedly, apprehensively, with a look of
+vague terror, her cheeks whitening as she spoke, her eyes darting wildly
+into mine, and her lips remaining parted after she had spoken.
+
+“Ah!” I exclaimed, keenly watching her. Her glance sank beneath my gaze.
+I put my hand upon her own.
+
+“What do I suspect I What should I suspect? Ha!”--Here I arrested
+myself. My ardent anxiety to know the truth led me to forget my caution;
+to exhibit a degree of eagerness, which might have proved that I did
+suspect and seriously. To exhibit the possession of jealousy was to
+place her upon her guard--such was the suggestion of that miserable
+policy by which I had been governed--and defeat the impression of that
+feeling of perfect security and indifference, which I had been so long
+striving to awaken. I recovered myself, with this thought, in season to
+re-assume this appearance.
+
+“Your mind still wanders, Julia. What should I suspect? and whom? You do
+not suppose me to be of a suspicious nature, do you?”
+
+“Not altogether--not always--no! But, of course, there is nothing to
+suspect. I do not know what I say. I believe I do wander.”
+
+This reply was also spoken hurriedly, but with an obvious effort at
+composure. The eagerness with which she seized upon my words, insisting
+upon the absence of any cause of suspicion, and ascribing to her late
+delirium, the tacit admissions which her look and language had made, I
+need not say, contributed to strengthen my suspicions, and to confirm
+all the previous conjectures of my jealous spirit.
+
+“Be quiet,” I said with an air of sang froid. “Do not worry yourself in
+this manner. You need sleep. Try for it, while I leave you.”
+
+“Do not leave me; sit beside me, dear Edward. I will sleep so much
+better when you are beside me.”
+
+“Indeed!”
+
+“Yes, believe me. Ah! that I could always keep you beside me!”
+
+“What! you are for a new honeymoon?” I said this in a TONE of merriment,
+which Heaven knows, I little felt.
+
+“Do not speak of it so lightly, Edward. It is too serious a matter. Ah!
+that you would always remain with me; that you would never leave me.”
+
+“Pshaw! What sickly tenderness is this! Why, how could I earn my bread
+or yours?”
+
+“I do not mean that you should neglect your business, but that when
+business is over, you should give me all your time as you used to.
+Remember, how pleasantly we passed the evenings after our marriage. Ah!
+how could you forget?”
+
+“I do not, Julia.”
+
+“But you do not care for them. We spend no such evenings now!”
+
+“No! but it is no fault of mine!” I said gloomily; then, interrupting
+her answer, as if dreading that she might utter some simple but true
+remark, which might refute the interpretation which my words conveyed,
+that the fault was hers, I enjoined silence upon her.
+
+“You scarcely speak in your right mind yet, Julia. Be quiet, therefore,
+and try to sleep.”
+
+“Well, if you will sit beside me.”
+
+“I will do so, since you wish for it; but where's the need?”
+
+“Ah! do not ask the need, if you still love me,” was all she said,
+and looked at me with such eyes--so tearful, bright, so sad,
+soliciting--that, though I did not less doubt, I could no longer deny.
+I resumed the seat beside her. She again placed her fingers in my hair,
+and in a little while sunk into a profound slumber, only broken by an
+occasional sob, which subsided into a sigh.
+
+Were she guilty--such was the momentary suggestion of the good
+angel--could she sleep thus?--thus quietly, confidingly, beside the man
+she had wronged--her fingers still paddling in his hair--her sleeping
+eyes still turning in the direction of his face?
+
+To the clear, open mind, the suggestion would have had the force of a
+conclusive argument; but mine was no longer a clear, open mind. I had
+the disease of the blind heart upon me, and all things came out upon my
+vision as through a glass, darkly. The evil one at my elbow jeered when
+the good angel spoke.
+
+“Fool! does she not see that she can blind you still!” Then, in the
+vanity and vexation of my spirit, I mused upon it further, and said to
+myself:--“Ay, but she will find, ere many days, that I am no longer to
+be blinded!” The scales were never thicker upon my sight than when I
+boasted in this foolish wise.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+A FATHER'S GRIEFS.
+
+
+She continued to improve, but slowly. Her organization was always very
+delicate. Her frame was becoming thin, almost to meagreness; and this
+last disaster, whatever might be its cause, had contributed still more
+to weaken a constitution which education and nature had never
+prepared for much hard encounter. But, though I saw these proofs of
+feebleness--of a feebleness that might have occasioned reasonable
+apprehensions of premature decay, and possibly very rapid decline--there
+were little circumstances constantly occurring--looks shown, words
+spoken--which kept up the irritation of my soul, and prevented me from
+doing justice to her enfeebled condition. My sympathies were absorbed
+in my suspicions. My heart was the debateable land of self. The blind
+passion which enslaved it, I need scarce say, was of a nature so potent,
+that it could easily impregnate, with its own color, all the objects of
+its survey. Seen through the eyes of suspicion, there is no truth, no
+virtue; the smile is that of the snake; the tear, that of the crocodile;
+the assurance, that of the traitor. There is no act, look, word, of
+the suspected object, however innocent, which, to the diseased mind of
+jealousy, does not suggest conjectures and arguments, all conclusive or
+confirmatory of its doubts and fears. It is not necessary to say that I
+shrunk from Julia's endearment, requited her smiles with indifference;
+and, though I did not avoid her presence--I could not, in the few days
+when her case was doubtful--yet exhibited, in all respects, the conduct
+of one who was in a sort of Coventry.
+
+But one fact may be stated--one of many--which seemed to give a sanction
+to my suspicions, will help to justify my course, and which, at the
+time, was terribly conclusive, to my reason, of the things which I
+feared. She spoke audibly the name of Edgerton, twice, thrice, while
+she slept beside me, in tones very faint, it is true, but still distinct
+enough. The faintness of her utterance, gave the tones an emphasis of
+tenderness which perhaps was unintended. Twice, thrice, that fatal name;
+and then, what a sigh from the full volume of a surcharged heart.
+Let any one conceive my situation--with my feelings, intense on all
+subjects--my suspicions already so thoroughly awakened; and then fancy
+what they must have been on hearing that utterance; from the unguarded
+lips of slumber; from the wife lying beside him; and of the name of him
+on whom suspicion already rested. I hung over the sleeper, breathless,
+almost gasping, finally, in the effort to contain my breath--in the
+hope to hear something, however slight, which was to confirm finally,
+or finally end my doubts. I heard no more; but did more seem to
+be necessary? What jealous heart had not found this sufficiently
+conclusive? And that deep-drawn sigh, sobbing, as of a heart breaking
+with the deferred hope, and the dream of youth baffled at one sweeping,
+severing blow.
+
+I rose. I could no longer subdue my emotions to the necessary degree of
+watchfulness. I trod the chamber till daylight. Then, I dressed
+myself and went out into the street. I had no distinct object. A vague
+persuasion only, that I must do something--that something must be
+done--that, in short, it was necessary to force this exhausting drama
+to its fit conclusion. Of course William Edgerton was my object. As
+yet, how to bring about the issue, was a problem which my mind was not
+prepared to solve. Whether I was to stab or shoot him; whether we were
+to go through the tedious processes of the duel; to undergo the fatigue
+of preliminaries, or to shorten them by sudden reencounter; these were
+topics which filled my thoughts confusedly; upon which I had no clear
+conviction; not because I did not attempt to fix upon a course, but from
+a sheer inability to think at all. My whole brain was on fire; a chaotic
+mass, such as rushes up from the unstopped vents of the volcano--fire,
+stones, and lava--but dense smoke enveloping the whole.
+
+In this frame of mind I hurried through the streets. The shops were yet
+unopened. The sun was just about to rise. There was a humming sound,
+like that of distant waters murmuring along the shore, which filled my
+ears; but otherwise everything was silent. Sleep had not withdrawn with
+night from his stealthy watch upon the household. It seemed to me that
+I alone could not sleep. Even guilt--if my wife were really guilty--even
+guilt could sleep. I left her sleeping, and how sweetly! as if the dream
+which had made her sob and sigh, had been succeeded by others, that
+made all smiles again. I could not sleep, and yet, who, but a few
+months before, had been possessed of such fair prospects of peace and
+prosperity? Fortune held forth sufficient promise; fame--so far as fame
+can be accorded by a small community--had done something toward giving
+me an honorable repute; and love--had not love been seemingly as liberal
+and prompt as ever young passions could have desired? I was making
+money; I was getting reputation; the only woman whom I had ever loved
+or sought, was mine; and mine, too, in spite of opposition and
+discouragements which would have chilled the ardor of half the lovers
+in the world. And yet I was not happy. It takes so small an amount of
+annoyance to produce misery in the heart of selfesteem, when united with
+suspicion, that it was scarcely possible that I should be happy. Such
+a man has a taste for self-torture; as one troubled with an irritating
+humor, is never at rest, unless he is tearing the flesh into a sore; he
+may then rest as he may.
+
+I took the way to my office. It was not often that I went thither before
+breakfast. But William Edgerton had been in the habit of doing so. He
+lived in the neighborhood, and his father had taught him this habit
+during the period when he was employed in studying the profession. It
+might be that I should find him there on the present occasion. Such was
+my notion. What farther thought I had I know not; but a vague suggestion
+that, in that quiet hour--there--without eye to see, or hand to
+interpose, I might drag from his heart the fearful secret--I might
+compel confession, take my vengeance, and rid myself finally of that
+cruel agony which was making me its miserable puppet. Crude, wild
+notions these, but very natural.
+
+I turned the corner of the street. The window of my office was open. “He
+is then there,” I muttered to myself; and my teeth clutched each other
+closely. I buttoned my coat. My heart was swelling. I looked around me,
+and up to the windows. The street was very silent--the grave not more
+so. I strode rapidly across, threw open the door of the office which
+stood ajar, and beheld, not the person whom I sought, but his venerable
+father.
+
+The sight of that white-headed old man filled me with a sense of shame
+and degradation. What had he not done for me? How great his assistance,
+how kind his regards, how liberal his offices. He had rescued me from
+the bondage of poverty. He had put forth the hand of help, with a manly
+grasp of succor at the very moment when it was most needed; had helped
+to make me what I was; and, for all these, I had come to put to death
+his only son. A revulsion of feeling took place within my bosom. These
+thoughts were instantaneous--a sort of lightning-flash from the moral
+world of thought. I stood abashed; brought to my senses in an instant,
+and was scarcely able to conceal my discomfiture and confusion. I stood
+before him with the feeling, and must have worn the look, of a culprit.
+Fortunately, he did not perceive my confusion. Poor old man! Cares of
+his own--cares of a father, too completely occupied his mind, to suffer
+his senses to discharge their duties with freedom.
+
+“I am glad to see you, Clifford, though I did not expect it. Young men
+of the present day are not apt to rise so early.”
+
+“I must confess, sir, it is not my habit.”
+
+“Better if it were. The present generation, it seems to me, may be
+considered more fortunate, in some respects, than the past, though they
+are scarcely wiser. They seem to me exempt from such necessities
+as encountered their fathers. Their tasks are fewer--their labor is
+lighter--”
+
+“Are their cares the lighter in consequence?” I demanded.
+
+“That is the question,” he replied. “For myself, I think not. They grow
+gray the sooner. They have fewer tasks, but heavier troubles. They live
+better in some respects. They have luxuries which, in my day, youth were
+scarcely permitted to enjoy; and which, indeed, were not often enjoyed
+by age. But they have little peace:-and, look at the bankruptcies of
+our city. They are without number--they produce no shame--do not seem to
+affect the credit of the parties; and, certainly, in no respect diminish
+their expenditures. They live as if the present day were the last
+they had to live; and living thus, they must live dishonestly. It is
+inevitable. The moral sense is certainly in a much lower condition in
+our country, than I have ever known it. What can be the reason?”
+
+“The facility of procuring money, perhaps. Money is the most dangerous
+of human possessions.”
+
+“There can be none other. Clifford!”
+
+“Sir.”
+
+“I change the subject abruptly. Have you seen my son lately, Clifford?”
+
+The question was solemnly, suddenly spoken. It staggered me. What
+could it mean? That there was a meaning in it--a deep meaning--was
+unquestionable. But of what nature? Did the venerable man suspect my
+secret--could he by any chance conjecture my purpose? It is one quality
+of a mind not exactly satisfied of the propriety of its proceedings, to
+be suspicious of all things and persons--to fancy that the consciousness
+which distresses itself, is also the consciousness of its neighbors.
+Hence the blush upon the cheek--the faltering accents--the tremulousness
+of limb, and feebleness of movement. For a moment after the old man
+spoke--troubled with this consciousness, I could not answer. But my
+self-esteem came to my relief--nay, it had sufficed to conceal my
+disquiet. My looks were subdued to a seeming calm--my voice was
+un-broken, while I answered:--
+
+“I have seen him within a few days, sir--a few nights ago we were at
+Mrs. Delaney's party. But why the question, sir?--what troubles you?”
+
+“Strange that you have not seen! Did you not remark the alteration in
+his appearance?”
+
+“I must confess, sir, I did not; but, perhaps, I did not remark him
+closely among the crowd.”
+
+“He is altered--terribly altered, Clifford. It is very strange that you
+have not seen it. It is visible to myself--his mother--all the
+family, and some of its friends We tremble for his life. He is a mere
+skeleton--moves without life or animation, feebly--his cheeks are pale
+and thin, his lips white, and his eyes have an appearance which, beyond
+anything besides, distresses me--either lifelessly dull, or suddenly
+flushed up with an expression of wildness, which occurs so suddenly as
+to distress us with the worst apprehensions of his sanity.”
+
+“Indeed, sir!” I exclaimed with natural surprise.
+
+“So it appears to us, his mother and myself, though, as it has escaped
+your eyes, I trust that we have exaggerated it. That we have not
+imagined all of it, however, we have other proofs to show. His manner is
+changed of late, and most of his habits. The change is only within
+the last six months; so suddenly made that it has been forced upon
+our sight. Once so frank, he is now reserved and shrinking to the last
+degree; speaks little; is reluctant to converse; and, I am compelled to
+believe, not only avoids my glance, but fears it.”
+
+“It is very strange that he should do so, sir. I can think of no reason
+why he should avoid YOUR glance. Can you sir? Have you any suspicions?”
+
+“I have.”
+
+“Ha! have you indeed?”
+
+The old man drew his chair closer to me, and, putting his hand on
+mine, with eyes in which the tears, big, slow-gathering, began to
+fill--trickling at length, one by one, through the venerable furrows of
+his cheeks--he replied in faltering accents:--
+
+“A terrible suspicion, Clifford. I am afraid he drinks; that he
+frequents gambling-houses; that, in short, he is about to be lost to us,
+body and soul, for ever.”
+
+Deep and touching was the groan that followed from that old man's bosom.
+I hastened to relieve him.
+
+“I am sure, sir, that you do your son great injustice. I cannot conceive
+it possible that he should have fallen into these habits.”
+
+“He is out nightly--late--till near daylight. But two hours ago he
+returned home. Let me confess to you, Clifford, what I should be loath
+to confess to anybody else. I followed him last night. He took the path
+to the suburbs, and I kept him in sight almost till he reached your
+dwelling. Then I lost him. He moved too rapidly then for my old limbs,
+and disappeared among those groves of wild orange that fill your
+neighborhood. I searched them as closely as I could in the imperfect
+starlight, but could see nothing of him. I am told that there are
+gambling-houses, notorious enough, in the suburbs just beyond you.
+I fear that he found shelter in these--that he finds shelter in them
+nightly.”
+
+I scarcely breathed while listening to the unhappy father's, narrative.
+There was one portion of it to which I need not refer the reader, as
+calculated to confirm my own previous convictions. I struggled with my
+feelings, however, in respect for his. I kept them down and spoke.
+
+“In this one fact, Mr. Edgerton, I see nothing to alarm you. Your
+son may have been engaged far more innocently than you imagine. He is
+young--you know too well the practices of young men. As for the drinking
+he is perhaps the very last person whom I should suspect of excess. I
+have always thought his temperance unquestionable.”
+
+“Until recently, I should have had no fears myself. But connecting one
+fact with another--his absence all night, nightly--the stealthiness
+with which he departs from home after the family has retired--the
+stealthiness with which he returns just before day--his visible
+agitation when addressed--and, oh Clifford! worst of all signs, the
+shrinking of his eye beneath mine and his mother's--the fear to meet,
+and the effort to avoid us--these are the signs which most pain me,
+and excite my apprehensions But look at his face and figure also. The
+haggard misery of the one, sign of sleeplessness and late watching--the
+attenuated feebleness of the other, showing the effects of some
+practices, no matter of what particular sort, which are undermining his
+constitution, and rapidly tending to destroy him. If you but look in his
+eye as I have done, marking its wildness, its wandering, its sensible
+expression of shame--you can hardly fail to think with me that something
+is morally wrong. He is guilty--”
+
+“He is guilty!”
+
+I echoed the words of the father, involuntarily. They struck the
+chord of conviction in my own soul, and seemed to me the language of a
+judgment.
+
+“Ha! You know it, then?” cried the old man. “Speak! Tell me,
+Clifford--what is his folly? What is the particular guilt and shame into
+which he has fallen?”
+
+I knew not that I had spoken until I heard these words. The agitation
+of the father was greatly increased. Truly, his sorrows were sad to look
+upon. I answered him:--
+
+“I simply echoed your words, sir--I am ignorant, as I said before; and,
+indeed, I may venture, I think, with perfect safety, to assure you that
+gaming and drink have nothing to do with his appearance and deportment.
+I should rather suspect him of some improper--SOME GUILTY CONNECTION--”
+
+I felt that, in the utterance of these words, I too had become excited.
+My voice did not rise, but I knew that it had acquired an intenseness
+which I as quickly endeavored to suppress. But the father had already
+beheld the expression in my face, and perhaps the sudden change in my
+tones grated harshly upon his ear. I could see that his looks became
+more eager and inquiring. I could note a greater degree of apprehension
+and anxiety in his eyes. I subdued myself, though not without some
+effort.
+
+“William Edgerton may be erring, sir--that I do not deny, for I have
+seen too little of him of late to say anything of his proceedings; but I
+am very confident when I say that excess in liquor can not be a vice of
+his; and as for gaming, I should fancy that he was the last person in
+the world likely to be tempted to the indulgence of such a practice.”
+
+The father shook his head mournfully.
+
+“Why this shame?--this fear? Besides, Clifford, what we know of our son
+makes us equally sure that women have nothing to do with his excesses.
+But these conjectures help us nothing. Clifford, I must look to you.”
+
+“What can I do for you, sir?”
+
+“He is my son, my only son--the care of many sad, sleepless hours. It
+was his mother's hope that he would be our solace in the weary and the
+sad ones. You can not understand yet how much the parent lives in
+the child--how many of his hopes settle there. William has already
+disappointed us in our ambition. He will be nothing that we hoped him
+to be; but of this I complain not. But that he should become base,
+Clifford; a night-prowler in the streets; a hanger-on of stews and
+gaming-houses; a brawler at an alehouse bar; a man to skulk through life
+and society; down-looking in his father's sight; despised in that of the
+community--oh! these are the cruel, the dreadful apprehensions!”
+
+“But you know not that he is any of these.”
+
+“True; but there is something grievously wrong when the son dares not
+meet the eye of a parent with manly fearlessness; when he looks without
+joyance at the face of a mother, and shrinks from her endearments as if
+he felt that he deserved them not. William Edgerton is miserable; that
+is evident enough. Now, misery does not always imply guilt; but, in
+his case, what else should it imply! He has had no misfortunes. He is
+independent; he is beloved by his parents, and by his friends; he has
+had no denial of the affections; in short, there is no way of accounting
+for his conduct or appearance, but by the supposition that he has fallen
+into vicious habits. Whatever these habits are, they are killing him.
+He is a mere skeleton; his whole appearance is that of a man running
+a rapid course of dissipation which can only advance in shame, and
+terminate in death. Clifford, if I have ever served you in the hour of
+your need, serve me in this of mine. Save my son for me. Bring him back
+from his folly; restore him, if you can, to peace and purity. See him,
+will you not? Seek him out; see him; probe his secret; and tell me what
+can be done to rescue him before it be too late.”
+
+“Really, Mr. Edgerton, you confound me. What can I do?”
+
+“I know not. Every thing, perhaps! I confess I can not counsel you. I
+can not even suggest how you should begin. You must judge for yourself.
+You must think and make your approaches according to your own judgment.
+Remember, that it is not in his behalf only. Think of the father, the
+mother! our hope, our all is at stake. I speak to you in the language of
+a child, Clifford. I am a child in this. This boy has been the apple of
+our eyes. It is our sight for which I seek your help. I know your good
+sense and sagacity. I know that you can trace out his secret when I
+should fail. My feelings would blind me to the truth. They might lead me
+to use language which would drive him from me. I leave it all to you. I
+know not who else can do for me half so well in a matter of this sort.
+Will you undertake it?”
+
+Could I refuse? This question was discussed in all its bearings, in
+a few lightning-like progresses of thought. I felt all its
+difficulties--anticipated the annoyances to which it would subject me,
+and the degree of self-forbearance which it would necessarily require;
+yet, when I looked on the noble old gentleman who sat beside me--his
+gray hairs, his pleading looks, the recollection of the deep debt of
+gratitude which I owed him--I put my hand in his; I could resist no
+longer.
+
+“I will try!” was the brief answer which I made him.
+
+“God bless, God speed you!” he exclaimed, squeezing my hand with a
+pressure that said everything, and we separated; he for his family,
+and I for that new task which I had undertaken. How different from my
+previous purpose! I was now to seek to save the person whom I had set
+forth that morning with the purpose (if I had any purpose) to destroy.
+What a volume made up of contradictions and inconsistencies, strangely
+bound together, is the moral world of man!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+APPLICATION OF “THE QUESTION.”
+
+
+But how to save him? How to approach him? How to keep down my own sense
+of wrong, my own feeling of misery, while representing the wishes and
+the feelings of that good old man--that venerable father? These were
+questions to afflict, to confound me! Still, I was committed; I must do
+what I had promised; undertake it at least; and the conviction that such
+a task was to be the severest trial of my manliness, was a conviction
+that necessarily helped to strengthen me to go through with it like a
+man.
+
+What I had heard from Mr. Edgerton in relation to his son, though new,
+and somewhat surprising to myself, had not altered, in any respect,
+my impressions on the subject of his conduct toward, or with, my wife.
+Indeed, it rather served to confirm them. I could have told the old man,
+that, in losing all traces of his son in the neighborhood of my dwelling
+the night when he pursued him, he had the most conclusive proofs that he
+had gone to no gaming-houses. But where did he go? That was a question
+for myself. Had he entered my premises, and hidden himself amidst the
+foliage where I had myself so often harbored, while my object had been
+the secret inspection of my household? Could it be that he had loitered
+there during the last few nights of my wife's illness, in the vain hope
+of seeing me take my departure? This was the conclusion which I reached,
+and with it came the next thought that he would revisit the spot again
+that night. Ha! that thought! “Let him come!” I muttered to myself. “I
+will endeavor to be in readiness!”
+
+But, surely, the father was grievously in error; his parental fear,
+alone, had certainly drawn the picture of his son's reduced and
+miserable condition. I had seen nothing of this. I had observed that he
+was shy, incommunicative--seeking to avoid me, as, according to their
+showing, he had striven to avoid his parents. So far our experience
+had been the same. But I had totally failed to perceive the marks of
+suffering or of sin which the vivid feelings of the father on this
+subject had insisted were so apparent. I had seen in Edgerton only
+the false friend, the traitor, stealing like a serpent to my bower, to
+beguile from my side the only object which made it dear to me. I could
+see in him only the exulting seducer, confident in his ability, artful
+in his endeavors, winning in his accomplishments, and striving with
+practised industry of libertinism, in the prosecution of his cruel
+schemes. I could see the grace of his bearing, the ease of his manner,
+the symmetry of his person, the neatness of his costume, the superiority
+of his dancing, the insinuation of his address. I could see these only!
+That he looked miserable--that he was thin to meagreness, I had not
+seen.
+
+Yet, even were it so, what could this prove, as the father had
+conclusively shown, but guilt. Poverty could not trouble him--he had
+never been an unrequited lover. He had gone along the stream of society,
+indifferent to the lures of beauty, and with a bark that had always
+appeared studiously to keep aloof from the shores or shoals of
+matrimony. If he was miserable, his misery could only come from
+misconduct, not from misfortune. It was a misery engendered by guilt,
+and what was that guilt? I KNEW that he did not drink; and was not his
+course in regard to Kingsley, as narrated by that person on the night
+when we went to the gaming-house together--was not that sufficient to
+show that he was no gamester, unless he happened to be one of the most
+bare faced of all canting hypocrites, which I could not believe him to
+be. What remained, but that my calculations were right? It was guilt
+that was sinking him, body and soul, so that his eye no longer dared
+to look upward--so that his ear shrunk from the sounds of those voices
+which, even in the language of kindness, were still speaking to him in
+the severest language of rebuke. And whom did that guilt concern more
+completely than myself? Say that the father was to lose his son, his
+only son--what was my loss, what was my shame! and upon whom should the
+curse most fully and finally fall, if not upon the wrong-doer, though it
+so happened that the ruin of the guilty brought with it overthrow to the
+innocent scarcely less complete!
+
+The extent of that guilt of Edgerton?
+
+On this point all was a wilderness, vague, inconclusive, confused and
+crowded within my understanding. I believed that he had approached my
+wife with evil designs--I believed, without a doubt, that he had passed
+the boundaries of propriety in his intercourse with her; but I believed
+not that she had fallen! No! I had an instinctive confidence in her
+purity, that rendered it apparently impossible that she should lapse
+into the grossness of illicit love. What, then, was my fear? That she
+did love him, though, struggling with the tendency of her heart, she
+had not yielded in the struggle. I believed that his grace, beauty,
+and accomplishments--his persevering attention--his similar tastes--had
+succeeded in making an impression upon her soul which had effectually
+eradicated mine. I believed that his attentions were sweet to her--that
+she had not the strength to reject them; and, though she may have proved
+herself too virtuous to yield, she had not been sufficiently strong to
+repulse him with virtuous resentment.
+
+That Edgerton had not succeeded, did not lessen HIS offence. The attempt
+was an indignity that demanded atonement--that justified punishment
+equally severe with that which should have followed a successful
+prosecution of his purpose. Women are by nature weak. They are not to
+be tempted. He who, knowing their weakness, attempts their overthrow by
+that medium, is equally cowardly and criminal. I could not doubt that he
+had made this attempt; but now it seemed necessary that I should suspend
+my indignation, in obedience with what appeared to be a paramount duty.
+A selfish reasoning now suggested compliance with this duty as a mean
+for procuring better intelligence than I already possessed. I need not
+say that the doubt was the pain in my bosom. I felt, in the words of the
+cold devil Iago, those “damned minutes” of him “who dotes, yet doubts,
+suspects, yet strongly loves.”
+
+The shapeless character of my fears and suspicions did not by any means
+lessen their force and volume. On the contrary it caused them to loom
+out through the hazy atmosphere of the imagination, assuming aspects
+more huge and terrible, in consequence of their very indistinctness;
+as the phantom shapes along the mountains of the Brocken, gathering and
+scowling in the morning or the evening twilight. To obtain more precise
+knowledge--to be able to subject to grasp and measure the uncertain
+phantoms which I feared--was, if not to reduce their proportions, at
+least to rid me of that excruciating suspense, in determining what to
+do, which was the natural result of my present ignorance.
+
+With some painstaking, I was enabled to find and force an interview with
+Edgerton that very day. He made an effort to elude me--such an effort as
+he could make without allowing his object to be seen. But I was not to
+be baffled. Having once determined upon my course, I was a puritan in
+the inveteracy with which I persevered in it. But it required no small
+struggle to approach the criminal, and so utterly to subdue my own sense
+of wrong, my suspicions and my hostility, as to keep in sight no more
+than the wishes and fears of the father. I have already boasted of my
+strength in some respects, even while exposing my weaknesses in others.
+That I could persuade Edgerton and my wife, equally, of my indifference,
+even at the moment when I was most agonized by my doubts of their
+purity, is a sufficient proof that I possessed a certain sort of
+strength. It was a moral strength, too, which could conceal the pangs
+inflicted by the vulture, even when it was preying upon the vitals of
+the best affections and the dearest hopes of the heart. It was necessary
+that I should put all this strength in requisition, as well to do what
+was required by the father, as to pierce, with keen eye, and considerate
+question, to the secret soul of the witness. I must assume the blandest
+manner of our youthful friendship; I must say kind things, and say them
+with a certain frank unconsciousness. I must use the language of a good
+fellow--a sworn companion--who is anxious to do justice to my friend's
+father, and yet had no notion that my friend himself was doing the
+smallest thing to justify the unmeasured fears of the fond old man. Such
+was my cue at first. I am not so sure that I pursued it to the end; but
+of this hereafter.
+
+My attention having been specially drawn to the personal appearance of
+William Edgerton, I was surprised, if not absolutely shocked, to see
+that the father had scarcely exaggerated the misery of his condition. He
+was the mere shadow of his former self. His limbs, only a year before,
+had been rounded even to plumpness. They were now sharp and angular. His
+skin was pale, his looks haggard; and that apprehensive shrinking of
+the eye, which had called forth the most keen expressions of fear and
+suspicion from the father's lips, was the prominent characteristic which
+commanded my attention during our brief interview. His eye, after the
+first encounter, no longer rose to mine. Keenly did I watch his face,
+though for an instant only. A sudden hectic flush mantled its paleness.
+I could perceive a nervous muscular movement about his mouth, and he
+slightly started when I spoke.
+
+“Edgerton,” I said, with tones of good-humored reproach, “there's no
+finding you now-a-days. You have the invisible cap. What do you do with
+yourself? As for law, that seems destined to be a mourner so far as you
+are concerned. She sits like a widow in her weeds. You have abandoned
+her: do you mean to abandon your friends also?”
+
+He answered, with a faint attempt to smile:--
+
+“No; I have been to see you often, but you are never at home.”
+
+“Ah! I did not hear of it. But if you really wished to see a husband who
+has survived the honeymoon, I suspect that home is about the last place
+where you should seek for him. Julia did the honors, I trust?”
+
+His eye stole upward, met mine, and sunk once more upon the floor. He
+answered faintly:--
+
+“Yes, but I have not seen her for some days.”
+
+“Not since Mother Delaney's party, I believe?”
+
+The color came again into his cheeks, but instantly after was succeeded
+by a deadly paleness.
+
+“What a bore these parties are! and such parties as those of Mrs.
+Delaney are particularly annoying to me. Why the d--l couldn't the old
+tabby halter her hobby without calling in her neighbors to witness the
+painful spectacle? You were there, I think?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“I left early. I got heartily sick. You know I never like such places;
+and, as soon as they began dancing, I took advantage of the fuss and
+fiddle to steal off. It was unfortunate I did so, for Julia was taken
+sick, and has had a narrow chance for it. I thought I should have lost
+her.”
+
+All this was spoken in tones of the coolest imaginable indifference.
+Edgerton was evidently surprised. He looked up with some curiosity
+in his glance, and more confidence; and, with accents that slightly
+faltered, he asked:--
+
+“Is she well again? I trust she is better now.”
+
+“Yes!” I answered, with the same sang-froid. “But I've had a serious
+business of watching through the last three nights. Her peril was
+extreme. She lost her little one.”
+
+A visible shudder went through his frame.
+
+“Tired to death of the walls of the house, which seems a dungeon to
+me, I dashed out this morning, at daylight, as soon as I found I could
+safely leave her; and, strolling down to the office, who should I find
+there but your father, perched at the desk, and seemingly inclined to
+resume all his former practice?”
+
+“Indeed! my father--so early? What could be the matter? Did he tell you?
+
+“Yes, i'faith, he is in tribulation about you. He fancies you are in a
+fair way to destruction. You can't conceive what he fancies. It seems,
+according to his account, that you are a night-stalker. He dwells
+at large upon your nightly absences from home, and then about your
+appearance, which, to say truth, is very wretched. You scarcely look
+like the same man. Edgerton. Have you been sick? What's the matter with
+you?”
+
+“I am NOT altogether well,” he said, evasively.
+
+“Yes, but mere indisposition would never produce such a change, in so
+short a period, in any man! Your father is disposed to ascribe it to
+other causes.”
+
+“Ah! what does he think?”
+
+I fancied there was mingled curiosity and trepidation in this inquiry.
+
+“He suspects you of gaming and drinking; but I assured him, very
+confidently, that such was not the case. On one of these heads I could
+speak confidently, for I met Kingsley the other night--the night of
+Mother Delaney's party--who was hot and heavy against you because you
+refused to lend him money for such purposes. I was more indulgent, lent
+him the money, went with him to the house, and returned home with a
+pocket full of specie, sufficient to set up a small banking-operation of
+my own.”
+
+“You! can it be possible!”
+
+“True; and no such dull way of spending an evening either. I got home in
+the small hours, and found Julia delirious. I haven't had such a fright
+for a stolen pleasure, Heaven knows when. There was the doctor, and
+there my eternal mother-in-law, and my poor little wife as near the
+grave as could be! But the circumstance of refusing the money to
+Kingsley, knowing his object, made me confident that gaming was not the
+cause of your night-stalking, and so I told the old gentleman.”
+
+“And what did he say?”
+
+“Shook his head mournfully, and reasoned in this manner: 'He has no
+pecuniary necessities, has no oppressive toils, and has never had any
+disappointment of heart. There is nothing to make him behave so, and
+look so, but guilt--GUILT!'”
+
+I repeated the last word with an entire change in the tone of my voice.
+Light, lively, and playful before, I spoke that single word with a stern
+solemnity, and, bending toward him, my eye keenly traversed the mazes of
+his countenance.
+
+“HE HAS IT!” I thought to myself, as his head drooped forward, and his
+whole frame shuddered momentarily.
+
+“But”--here my tones again became lively and playful--I even laughed--“I
+told the old man that I fancied I could hit the nail more certainly on
+the head. In short, I said I could pretty positively say what was the
+cause of your conduct and condition.”
+
+“Ah!” and, as he uttered this monosyllable, he made a feeble effort
+to rise from his seat, but sunk back, and again fixed his eye upon the
+floor in visible emotion.
+
+“Yes! I told him--was I not right?--that a woman was at the bottom of it
+all!”
+
+He started to his feet. His face was averted from me.
+
+“Ha! was I not right? I knew it! I saw through it from the first; and,
+though I did not tell the old man THAT, I was pretty sure that you were
+trespassing upon your neighbor's grounds. Ha! what say you? Was I not
+right? Were you not stealing to forbidden places--playing the snake, on
+a small scale, in some blind man's Eden? Ha! ha! what say you to that? I
+am right, am I not? eh?”
+
+I clapped him on the shoulder as I spoke. His face had been half averted
+from me while I was speaking; but now it turned upon me, and his glance
+met mine, teeming with inquisitive horror.
+
+“No! no! you are not right!” he faltered out; “it is not so. Nothing is
+the matter with me! I am quite well--quite! I will see my father, and
+set him right.”
+
+“Do so,” I said, coolly and indifferently--“do so; tell him what you
+please: but you can't change my conviction that you're after some pretty
+woman, and probably poaching on some neighbor's territory. Come, make me
+your confidante, Edgerton. Let us know the history of your misfortune.
+Is the lady pliant? I should judge so, since you continue to spend so
+many nights away from home. Come, make a clean breast of it. Out with
+your secret! I have always been your friend. WE COULD NOT BETRAY EACH
+OTHER, I THINK!”
+
+“You are quite mistaken,” he said, with the effort of one who is half
+strangled. “There is nothing in it; I assure you, you were never more
+mistaken.”
+
+“Pshaw, Edgerton! you may blind papa, but you can not blind me. Keep
+your secret, if you please, but, if you provoke me, I will trace it out;
+I will unkennel you. If I do not show the sitting hare in a fortnight,
+by the course of the hunter, tell me I am none myself.”
+
+His consternation increased, but I did not allow it to disarm me.
+I probed him keenly, and in such a manner as to make him wince with
+apprehension at every word which I uttered. Morally, William Edgerton
+was a brave man. Guilt alone made him a coward. It actually gave me
+pain, after a while, to behold his wretched imbecility. He hung upon
+my utterance with the trembling suspense of one whose eye has become
+enchained with the fascinating gaze of the serpent. I put my questions
+and comments home to him, on the assumption that he was playing the
+traitor with another's wife; though taking care, all the while, that my
+manner should be that of one who has no sort of apprehensions on his
+own score. My deportment and tone tallied well with the practised
+indifference which had distinguished my previous overt conduct. It
+deceived him on that head; but the truth, like a sharp knife, was no
+less keen in penetrating to his soul; and, preserving my coolness
+and directness, with that singular tenacity of purpose which I
+could maintain in spite of my own sufferings--and keep them still
+unsuspected--I did not scruple to impel the sharp iron into every
+sensitive place within his bosom.
+
+He writhed visibly before me. His struggles did not please me, but
+I sought to produce them simply because they seemed so many proofs
+confirming the truth of my conjectures. The fiend in my own soul kept
+whispering, “He has it!”--and a fatal spell, not unlike that which
+riveted his attention to the language which tore and vexed him, urged
+me to continue it until at length the sting became too keen for his
+endurance. In very desperation, he broke away from the fetters of that
+fascination of terror which had held him for one mortal hour to the
+spot.
+
+“No more! no more!” he exclaimed, with an uncontrollable burst of
+emotion. “You torture me! I can stand it no longer! There is nothing in
+your conjecture! There is no reason for your suspicions! She is--”
+
+“She? Ah!”
+
+I could not suppress the involuntary exclamation. The truth seemed to
+be at hand. I was premature. My utterance brought him to his senses. He
+stopped, looked at me wildly for an instant, his eyes dilated almost
+to bursting. He seemed suddenly to be conscious that the secrets of his
+soul--its dark, uncommissioned secrets--were about to force themselves
+into sight and speech; and unable, perhaps, to arrest them in any other
+way he darted headlong from my presence.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+MEDITATED EXILE.
+
+
+With his departure sunk the spirit which had sustained me. I had not
+gone through that scene willingly; I had suffered quite as many pangs as
+himself. I had made my own misery, though disguised under the supposed
+condition of another, the subject of my own mockery; and if I succeeded
+in driving the iron into HIS soul, the other end of the shaft was all
+the while working in mine! His flight was an equal relief to both of
+us. The stern spirit left me from that moment. My agony found relief,
+momentary though it was, in a sudden gush of tears. My hot, heavy
+head sank upon my palms, and I groaned in unreserved homage to
+the never-slumbering genius of pain--that genius which alone is
+universal--which adopts us from the cradle--which distinguishes our
+birth by our tears, hallows the sentiment of grief to us from the
+beginning, and maintains the fountains which supply its sorrows to the
+end. The lamb skips, the calf leaps, the fawn bounds, the bird chirps,
+the young colt frisks; all things but man enjoy life from its very dawn.
+He alone is feeble, suffering. His superior pangs and sorrows are the
+first proofs of his singular and superior destiny.
+
+Bitter was the gush of tears that rolled from the surcharged fountains
+of my heart; bitter, but free-flowing to my relief, at the moment when
+my head seemed likely to burst with a volcanic volume within it, and
+when a blistering arrow seemed slowly to traverse, to and fro, the most
+sore and shining passages of my soul. Had not Edgerton fled, I could
+not have sustained it much longer. My passions would have hurled aside
+my judgment, and mocked that small policy under which I acted. I
+felt that they were about to speak, and rejoiced that he fled. Had he
+remained, I should most probably have poured forth all my suspicion, all
+my hate; dragged by violence from his lips the confession of his wrong,
+and from his heart the last atonement for it.
+
+At first I reproached myself that I had not done so. I accused myself of
+tameness--the dishonorable tameness of submitting to indignity--the last
+of all indignities--and of conferring calmly, even good-humoredly,
+with the wrong-doer. But cooler moments came. A brief interval
+sufficed--helped by the flood of tears which rushed, hot and scalding,
+from my eyes--to subdue the angry spirit. I remembered my pledges to the
+father; my unspeakable obligations to him; and when I again recollected
+that my convictions had not assailed the purity of my wife, and,
+at most, had questioned her affections only, my forbearance seemed
+justified.
+
+But could the matter rest where it was? Impossible! What was to be done?
+It was clear enough that the only thing that could be done, for the
+relief of all parties, was to be done by myself. Edgerton was
+suffering from a guilty pursuit. That pursuit, if still urged, might be
+successful, if not so at present. The constant drip of the water will
+wear away the stone; and if my wife could submit to impertinent advances
+without declaring them to her husband, the work of seduction was already
+half done. To listen is, in half the number of cases, to fall. I must
+save her; I had not the courage to put her from me. Believing that she
+was still safe, I resolved, through the excess of that love which
+was yet the predominant passion in my soul, in spite of all its
+contradictions, to keep her so, if human wit could avail, and human
+energy carry its desires into successful completion.
+
+To do this, there was but one process. That was flight. I must leave
+this city--this country. By doing so, I remove my wife from temptation,
+remove the temptation from the unhappy young man whom it is destroying;
+and thus, though by a sacrifice of my own comforts and interests, repay
+the debt of gratitude to my benefactor in the only effective manner. It
+called for no small exercise of moral courage and forbearance--no small
+benevolence--to come to this conclusion. It must be understood that my
+professional business was becoming particularly profitable. I was rising
+in my profession. My clients daily increased in number; my
+acquaintance daily increased in value. Besides, I loved my
+birthplace--thrice-hallowed--the only region in my eyes--
+
+“The spot most worthy loving Of all beneath the sky.”
+
+But the sacrifice was to be made; and my imagination immediately grew
+active for my compensation, by describing a woodland home--a spot,
+remote from the crowd, where I should carry my household gods, and set
+them up for my exclusive and uninvaded worship. The whole world-wide
+West was open to me. A virgin land, rich in natural wealth and splendor,
+it held forth the prospect of a fair field and no favor to every
+newcomer. There it is not possible to keep in thraldom the fear less
+heart and the active intellect. There, no petty circle of society
+can fetter the energies or enfeeble the endeavors. No mocking, stale
+conventionalities can usurp the place of natural laws, and put genius
+and talent into the accursed strait-jacket of routine! Thither will I
+go. I remembered the late conference with my friend Kingsley, and the
+whole course of my reasoning on the subject of my removal was despatched
+in half an hour. “I will go to Alabama.”
+
+Such was my resolution. I was the man to make sudden resolutions. This,
+however, reasoned upon with the utmost circumspection, seemed the very
+best that I could make. My wife, yet pure, was rescued from the danger
+that threatened her; I was saved the necessity of taking a life so dear
+to my benefactor; and the unhappy young man himself--the victim to a
+blind passion--having no longer in his sight the temptation which misled
+him, would be left free to return to better thoughts, and the accustomed
+habits of business and society. I had concluded upon my course in the
+brief interval which followed my interview with William Edgerton and my
+return home.
+
+The next day I saw his father. I communicated the assurance of the son,
+and renewed my own, that neither drunkenness nor gaming was a vice. What
+it was that afflicted him I did not pretend to know, but I ascribed it
+to want of employment; a morbid, unenergetic temperament; the fact that
+he was independent, and had no rough necessities to make him estimate
+the true nature and the objects of life; and, at the close, quietly
+suggested that possibly there was some affair of the heart which
+contributed also to his suffering. I did not deny that his looks were
+wretched, but I stoutly assured the old man that his parental fears
+exaggerated their wretchedness. We had much other talk on the
+subject. When we were about to separate for the day, I declared my own
+determination in this manner:--
+
+“I have just decided on a step, Mr. Edgerton, which perhaps will
+somewhat contribute to the improvement of your son, by imposing some
+additional tasks upon him. I am about to emigrate for the southwest.”
+
+“You, Clifford? Impossible! What puts that into your head?”
+
+It was something difficult to furnish any good reason for such a
+movement. The only obvious reason spoke loudly for iny remaining where I
+was.
+
+“This is unaccountable,” said he. “You are doing here as few young men
+have done before you. Your business increasing--your income already
+good--surely, Clifford, you have not thought upon the matter--you are
+not resolved.”
+
+I could plead little other than a truant disposition for my proceeding,
+but I soon convinced him that I was resolved. He seemed very much
+troubled; betrayed the most flattering concern in my interests; and,
+renewing his argument for my stay, renewed also his warmest professions
+of service.
+
+“I had hoped,” he said, “to have seen you and William, closely united,
+pursuing the one path equally and successfully together. I shall have no
+hopes of him if you leave us.”
+
+“The probability is, sir, that he will do better with the whole
+responsibility of the office thrown upon him.”
+
+“No! no!” said the old man, mournfully. “I have no hope of him. There
+seems to me a curse upon wealth always--that follows and clings to it,
+and never leaves it, till it works out the ruin of all the proprietors.
+See the number of our young men, springing from nothing, that make
+everything out of it--rise to eminence and power--get fortune as if it
+were a mere sport to command and to secure it; while, on the other
+Sand, look at the heirs of our proud families. Profligate, reckless,
+abandoned: as if, reasoning from the supposed wealth of their parents,
+they fancied that there were no responsibilities of their own. I saw
+this danger from the beginning. I have striven to train up my son in the
+paths of duty and constant employment; and yet--but complaint is idle.
+The consciousness of having tried my best to have and make it otherwise
+is, nevertheless, a consolation. When do you think to go?”
+
+“In a week or two at farthest. I have but to rid myself of my
+impediments.”
+
+“Always prompt; but it is best. Once resolved, action is the moral law.
+Still, I wish I could delay you. I still think you are committing a
+great error. I can not understand it. You have established yourself.
+This is not easy anywhere. You will find it difficult in a new country,
+and among strangers.”
+
+“Nay, sir, more easy there than anywhere else. If a man has anything in
+him, strangers and a new country are the proper influences to bring it
+out. Friends and an old community keep it down, suppress, strangle it.
+This is the misfortune of your son. He has family, friends--resources
+which defeat all the operations of moral courage, and prevent
+independence. Necessity is the moral lever. Do you forget the saying of
+one of the wise men? 'If you wish your son to become a man, strip him
+naked and send him among strangers'--in other words, throw him upon his
+own resources, and let him take care of himself. The not doing this is
+the source of that misfortune which only now you deplored as so commonly
+following the condition of the select and wealthy. I do not fear the
+struggle in a new country. It will end in my gaining my level, be that
+high or low. Nothing, in such a region, can keep a man from that.”
+
+“Ay, but the roughness of those new countries--the absence of
+refinement--the absolute want of polish and delicacy.”
+
+“The roughness will not offend me, if it is manly. The world is full
+of it. To be anything, a man must not have too nice a stomach. Such a
+stomach will make him recoil from sights of misery and misfortune; and
+he who recoils from such sights, will be the last to relieve, to repair
+them. But while I admit the roughness and the want of polish among these
+frontier men, I deny the want of delicacy. Their habits are rude and
+simple, perhaps, but their tastes are pure and unaffected, and their
+hearts in the right place. They have strong affections; and strong
+affections, properly balanced, are the true sources of the better sort
+of delicacy. All other is merely conventional, and consists of forms and
+phrases, which are very apt to keep us from the thing itself which they
+are intended to represent. Give me these frank men and women of the
+frontier, while my own feelings are yet strong and earnest. Here, I am
+perpetually annoyed by the struggle to subdue within the social limits
+the expression of that nature which is for ever boiling up within me,
+and the utterance of which is neither more nor less than the heart's
+utterance of the faith and hope which are in it. We are told of those
+nice preachers who 'never mention hell to ears polite.' They are the
+preachers of your highly-refined, sentimental society. Whatever hell
+may be, they are the very teachers that, by their mincing forbearance,
+conduct the poor soul that relies on them into its jaws. It is a sort
+of lie not to use the properest language to express our thoughts,
+but rather so to falsify our thoughts by a sort of lack-a-daisaical
+phraseology which deprives them of all their virility. A nation or
+community is in a bad way for truth, when there is a tacit understanding
+among their members to deal in the diminutives of a language, and
+forbear the calling of things by their right names. An Englishman,
+wishing to designate something which is graceful, pleasing, delicate,
+or fine, uses the word 'nice'--more fitly applied to bon-bons or
+beefsteaks, according to the stomach of the speaker. An energetic form
+of speech is rated, in fashionable society, as particularly vulgar. In
+our larger American cities, where they have much pretension but little
+character, a leg must not be spoken of as such. You may say 'limb,' but
+not 'leg.' The word 'woman'--one of the sweetest in the language--is
+supposed to disparage the female to whom it is applied. She must be
+called a 'lady,' forsooth; and this word, originally intended to pacify
+an aristocratic vanity, has become the ordinary appellative of every
+member of that gross family which, in the language of Shakspere, is only
+fit to 'suckle fools and chronicle small beer.' I shall be more free,
+and feel more honest in that rough world of the west; a region in which
+the dilettantism, such as it is, of our Atlantic cities, is always very
+prompt to sneer at and disparage; but I look to see the day, even in
+our time, when that west shall be, not merely an empire herself, but the
+nursing mother of great empires. There shall be a genius born in that
+vast, wide world--a rough, unlicked genius it may be, but one whose
+words shall fall upon the hills like thunder, and descend into the
+valleys like a settled, heavy rain, which shall irrigate them all with a
+new life. Perhaps--”
+
+I need not pursue this. I throw it upon paper with no deliberation. It
+streams from me like the rest. Its tone was somewhat derived from those
+peculiar, sad feelings, and that pang-provoking course of thought, which
+it has been the purpose of this narrative to embody. In the expression
+of digressive but earnest notions like these, I could momentarily divert
+myself from deeper and more painful emotions. I had really gone through
+a great trial: I say a great trial--always assuming human indulgence for
+that disease of the blind heart which led me where I found myself, which
+makes me what I am. I did not feel lightly the pang of parting with my
+birthplace. I did not esteem lightly the sacrifice of business, comfort,
+and distinction which I was making; and of that greater cause of
+suffering, supposed or real, of the falling off in my wife's affection,
+the agony is already in part recorded. It may be permitted to me,
+perhaps, under these circumstances--with the additional knowledge,
+which I yet suppressed, that these sacrifices were to be made, and these
+sufferings endured, partly that the son might be saved--to speak with
+some unreserved warmth of tone to the venerable and worthy sire. He
+little knew how much of my determination to remove from my country was
+due to my regard for him. I felt assured that, if I remained, two things
+must happen. William Edgerton would persevere in his madness, and I
+should murder him in his perseverance! I banished myself in regard for
+that old man, and in some measure to requite his benefactions, that I
+might be spared this necessity.
+
+When, the next day, I sought William Edgerton himself, and declared my
+novel determination, he turned pale as death. I could see that his lips
+quivered. I watched him closely. He was evidently racked by an emotion
+which was more obvious from the necessity he was under of suppressing
+it. With considerable difficulty he ventured to ask my reasons for this
+strange step, and with averted countenance repeated those which his
+father had proffered against my doing so. I could see that he fain
+would have urged his suggestions more vehemently if he dared. But
+the conviction that his wishes were the fathers to his arguments was
+conclusive to render him careful that his expostulations should not put
+on a show of earnestness. I must do William Edgerton the justice to
+say that guilt was not his familiar. He could not play the part of the
+practised hypocrite. He had no powers of artifice. He could not wear the
+flowers upon his breast, having the volcano within it. Professionally,
+he could be no roué. He could seem no other than he was. Conscious of
+guilt, which he had not the moral strength to counteract and overthrow,
+he had not, at the same time, the art necessary for its concealment. He
+could use no smooth, subtle blandishments. His cheek and eye would tell
+the story of his mind, though it strove to make a false presentment. I
+do him the further justice to believe that a great part of his misery
+arose from this consciousness of his doing wrong, rather than from the
+difficulties in the way of his success. I believe that, even were he
+successful in the prosecution of his illicit purposes, he would not
+have looked or felt a jot less miserable. I felt, while we conferred
+together, that my departure was perhaps the best measure for his relief.
+While I mused upon his character and condition, my anger yielded in part
+to commiseration. I remembered the morning-time of our boyhood--when we
+stood up for conflict with our young enemies, side by side--obeyed the
+same rallying-cry, recognised the same objects, and were a sort of David
+and Jonathan to one another. Those days!--they soothed and softened
+me while I recalled them. My tone became less keen, my language less
+tinctured with sarcasm, when I thought of these things; and I thought of
+our separation without thinking of its cause.
+
+“I leave you, Edgerton, with one regret--not that we part, for life is
+full of partings, and the strong mind must be reconciled with them, or
+it is nothing--but that I leave you so unlike your former self. I wish I
+could do something for you.”
+
+I gave him my hand as as I spoke. He did not grasp--he rather shrunk
+from it. An uncontrollable burst of feeling seemed suddenly to gush from
+him as he spoke:--
+
+“Take no heed of me, Clifford--I am not worthy of YOUR thought.”
+
+“Ha! What do you mean?”
+
+He spoke hastily, in manifest discomfiture:--
+
+“I am worthy of no man's thought.”
+
+“Pshaw! you are a hypochondriac.”
+
+“Would it were that!--But you go!--when?”
+
+“In a week, perhaps.”
+
+“So soon? So very soon? Do you--do you carry your family with you at
+once?”
+
+There was great effort to speak this significant inquiry. I perceived
+that. I perceived that his eyes were on the ground while it was
+made. The question was offensive to me. It had a strange and painful
+significance. It recalled the whole cause, the bitter cause of my
+resolve for exile; and I could not control the altered tones of my
+voice in answering, which I did with some causticity of feeling, which
+necessarily entered into my utterance.
+
+“Family, surely! My wife only! No great charge, I'm thinking, and her
+health needs an early change. Would you have me leave HER? I have no
+other family, you know!”
+
+The dialogue, carried on with restraint before, was shortened by this;
+and, after a few business remarks, which were necessary to our office
+concerns, he pleaded an engagement to get away. He left me with some
+soreness upon my mind, which formed its expression in a brief soliloquy.
+
+“You would have the path made even freer than before, would you? It does
+not content you, these long morning meditations--these pretended labors
+of the painting-room, the suspicious husband withdrawn, and the wife,
+neither scorning nor consenting, willing to believe in that devotion
+to the art which is properly a devotion to herself? These are not
+sufficient opportunities, eh? There were--more room for landscape,
+appoint you, Mr. Edgerton!--Ah! could I but know all. Could I be sure
+that she did love him! Could I be sure that she did not! That is the
+curse--that doubt!--Will it remain so? No! no! Once removed--once in
+those forest regions, it can not be that she will repine for anything.
+She MUST love me then--she will feel anew the first fond passion. She
+will forget these passing fancies. They WILL pass! She is young. The
+image will haunt her no longer--at least, it will no longer haunt me!”
+
+So I spoke, but I was not so sure of that last. The doubt did not
+trouble me, however. Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. But I
+had another test yet to try. I wished to see how Julia would receive the
+communication of my purpose. As yet she knew nothing of my contemplated
+departure. “It will surprise her,” I thought to myself. “In that
+surprise she will show how much our removal will distress her!”
+
+But when I made known to her my intention, the surprise was all my own.
+The communication did not seemed to distress her at all. Surprise her
+it did, but the surprise seemed a pleasant one. It spoke out in a sudden
+flashing of the eye, a gentle smiling of the mouth, which was equally
+unexpected and grate ful to my heart.
+
+“I am delighted with the idea!” she exclaimed, putting her arms about my
+neck. “I think we shall be so happy there. I long to get away from this
+place.”
+
+“Indeed! But are you serious?”
+
+“To be sure.”
+
+“I was apprehensive it might distress you.”
+
+“Oh! no! no! I have been dull and tired here, for a long while; and I
+thought, when you told me that Mr. Kingsley had gone to Alabama, how
+delightful it would be if we could go too.”
+
+“But you never told me that.”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Nor even looked it, Julia.”
+
+“Surely not--I should have been loath to have you think, while your
+business was so prosperous, and you seemed so well satisfied here, that
+I had any discontent.”
+
+“I satisfied!” I said this rather to myself than her.
+
+“Yes, were you not? I had no reason to think otherwise. Nay, I feared
+you were too well satisfied, for I have seen so little of you of late.
+I'm sure I wished we were anywhere, so that you could find your home
+more to your liking.”
+
+“And have such notions really filled your brain Julia?”
+
+“Really.”
+
+“And you have found me a stranger--you have missed me?”
+
+“Ah! do you not know it, Edward?”
+
+“You shall have no need to reproach me hereafter. We will go to Alabama,
+and live wholly for one another. I shall leave you in business time
+only, and hurry back as soon as I can.”
+
+“Ah, promise me that?”
+
+“I do!”
+
+“We shall be so happy then. Then we shall take our old rambles, Edward,
+though in new regions, and will resume the pencil, if you wish it.”
+
+This was said timidly.
+
+“To be sure I wish it. But why do you say, 'resume'? Have you not been
+painting all along?”
+
+“No! I have scarcely smeared canvass the last two months”
+
+“But you have been sketching?”
+
+“No!”
+
+“What employed you then in the studio? How have you passed your
+mornings?”
+
+This inquiry was made abruptly, but it did not disturb her. Her answer
+was strangely satisfactory.
+
+“I have scarcely looked in upon the studio in all that time.”
+
+I longed to ask what Edgerton had done with himself, and whether he had
+been suffered to employ himself alone, in his morning visits, but my
+tongue faltered--I somehow dared not. Still, it was something to have
+her assurance that she had not found her attractions in that apartment
+in which my jealous fancy had assumed that she took particular delight.
+She had spoken with the calmness of innocence, and I was too happy to
+believe her. I put my arms about her waist.
+
+“Yes, we will renew the old habits, for I suppose that business there
+will be less pressing, less exacting, than I have found it here. We will
+take our long walks, Julia, and make up for lost time in new sketches.
+You have thought me a truant, Julia--neglectful hitherto! Have you not?”
+
+“Ah, Edward!”--Her eyes filled with tears, but a smile, like rainbow,
+made them bright.
+
+“Say, did you not?”
+
+“Do not be angry with me if I confess I thought you very much altered in
+some respects. I was fearful I had vexed you.”
+
+“You shall have no more reason to fear. We shall be the babes in the
+wood together. I am sure we shall be quite happy, left to ourselves. No
+doubts, no fears--nothing but love. And you are really willing to go?”
+
+“Willing! I wish it! I can get ready in a day.”
+
+“You have but a week. But, have you no reluctance? Is there nothing
+that you regret to leave? Speak freely, Julia. Your mother, your
+friends--would you not prefer to remain with them?”
+
+She placed her hands on my shoulders, laid her head close to my bosom
+and murmured--how softly, how sweetly--in the touching language of the
+Scripture damsel.
+
+“Entreat me not to leave thee, or to refrain from following after thee;
+for whither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge.
+Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God!”
+
+I folded her with tremulous but deep joy in my embrace; and in that
+sweet moment of peace, I wondered that I ever should have questioned the
+faith of such a woman.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+“AND STILL THE BITTER IN THE CUP OF JOY.”
+
+
+Once more I had sunshine. The clouds seemed to depart as suddenly
+as they had risen, and that same rejoicing and rosy light which had
+encircled the brow of manhood at its dawn long shrouded, seemingly lost
+for ever, and swallowed up in darkness--came out as softly and quietly
+in the maturer day, as if its sweet serene had never known even
+momentary obscuration.
+
+Love, verily, is the purple light of youth. If it abides, blessing and
+blessed, with the unsophisticated heart, youth never leaves us. Gray
+brows make not age--the feeble step, the wrinkled visage, these indicate
+the progress of time, but not the passage of youth. Happy hearts keep us
+in perpetual spring, and the glow of childhood without its weaknesses is
+ours to the final limit of seventy. The sense of desolation, the pang of
+denial, the baffled hope, and the defrauded love, these constitute the
+only age that should ever give the heart a pang. I can fancy a good man
+advancing through all the mortal stages from seventeen to seventy-five,
+and crowned by the sympathies of corresponsive affections, simply going
+on from youth to youth, ending at last in youth's perfect immortality!
+
+The hope of this--not so much a hope as an instinct--is the faith of our
+boyhood. The boy, as the father of the man, transmits this hope to riper
+years; but if the experience of the day correspond not with the promise
+of the dawn, how rapidly old age comes upon us! White hairs, lean
+cheeks, withered muscles, feeble steps, and that dull, dead feeling
+about the heart--that utter abandonment of cheer--which would be
+despair were it not for a certain blunted sensibility--a sort of drowsy
+indifference to all things that the day brings forth, which, as it takes
+from life the excitement of every passion, leaves it free from the sting
+of any. Yet, were not the tempest better than the calm? Who would not
+prefer to be driven before the treacherous hurricane of the blue gulf,
+than to linger midway on its shoreless waters, and behold their growing
+stagnation from day to day? The apathy of the passions is the most
+terrible form in which age makes its approaches.
+
+With an earnest, sanguine temperament, such as mine, there is little
+danger of such apathy, The danger is not from lethargy but madness. I
+had escaped this danger. It was surprising, even to myself, how suddenly
+my spirits had arisen from the pressure that had kept them down. In
+a moment, as it were, that mocking troop of fears and sorrows which
+environed me, took their departure. It seemed that it was only necessary
+for me to know that I was about to lose the presence of William Edgerton
+to find this relief.
+
+And yet, how idle! With an intense egoisme, such as mine, I should
+conjure up an Edgerton in the deepest valleys of our country. We have
+our gods and devils in our own hearts. The nature of the deities we
+worship depends upon our own. In a savage state, the Deity is savage,
+and expects bloody sacrifices; with the progress of civilization his
+attributes incline to mercy. The advent of Jesus Christ indicated the
+advance of the Hebrews to a higher sense of the human nature. It was the
+advent of the popular principle, which has been advancing steadily ever
+since and keeping due pace with the progress of Christian education. The
+people were rising at the expense of the despotism which had kept them
+down. It does not affect the truth of this to show that the polish of
+the Jewish nation was lessened at this period. Nay, rather proves
+it, since the diffusion of a truth or a power must always lessen its
+intensity In teaching, for the first time, the doctrine of the soul's
+immortality, the Savior laid the foundation of popular rights, in
+the elevation of the common humanity--since he thus showed the equal
+importance, in the sight of God, of every soul that had ever taken shape
+beneath his hands.
+
+The demon which had vexed and tortured me was a demon of my own
+soliciting--of my own creation. But, I knew not this. I congratulated
+myself on escaping from him. Blind fancy!--I little knew the insidious
+pertinacity of this demon--this demon of the blind heart. I little knew
+the nature of his existence, and how much he drew his nutriment from the
+recesses of my own nature. He could spare, or seem to spare, the
+victim of whom he was so sure; and by a sort of levity, in no ways
+unaccountable, since we see it in the play of cat with mouse, could
+indulge with temporary liberty, the poor captive of whom he was at any
+moment certain. I congratulated myself on my escape; but I was not so
+well pleased with the congratulations of others. I was doomed to endure
+those of my exemplary mother-in-law, Mrs. Delaney. That woman had her
+devil--a worse devil, though not more troublesome, I think, than mine.
+She said to me, when she heard of my purpose of removal: “You are right
+to remove. It is only prudent. Pity you had not gone some months ago.”
+
+I read her meaning, where her language was ambiguous, in her sharp,
+leering eyes--full of significance--an expression of mysterious
+intelligence, which, mingled with a slight, sinister smile upon her
+lips, for a moment, brought a renewal of all my tortures and suspicions.
+She saw the annoyance which I felt, and strove to increase it. I know
+not--I will not repeat--the occasional innuendos which she allowed
+herself to utter in the brief space of a twenty minutes' interview. It
+is enough to say that nothing could be more evident than her desire
+to vex me with the worst pangs which a man can know, even though
+her success in the attempt was to be attained at the expense of her
+daughter's peace of mind and reputation. I do not believe that she ever
+hinted to another, what she clearly enough insinuated as a cause of fear
+to me. Her purpose was to goad me to madness, and in her witless malice,
+I do believe she was utterly unconscious of the evil that might accrue
+to the child of her own womb from her base and cruel suggestions. I
+wished to get from her these suggestions in a more distinct form. I
+wished at the same time, to deprive her of the pleasure of seeing that I
+understood her. I restrained myself accordingly, though the vulture was
+then again at my vitals.
+
+“What do you mean. Mrs. Delaney? Why is it a pity that I hadn't gone
+months ago?”
+
+“Oh! that's enough for me to know. I have my reasons.”
+
+“But, will you not suffer me to know them? I am conscious of no evil
+that has arisen from my not going sooner.”
+
+“Indeed! Well, if you are not, I can only say you're not so keen-sighted
+a lawyer as I thought you were. That's all.”
+
+“If you think I would have made out better, got more practice, and made
+more money in Alabama, that, I must tell you, has been long since my own
+opinion.”
+
+“No! I don't mean that--it has no regard to business and
+money-making--what I mean.”
+
+“Ah! what can it have regard to? You make me curious, Mrs. Delaney.”
+
+“Well, that may be; but I'm not going to satisfy your curiosity. I
+thought you had seen enough for yourself. I'm sure you're the only one
+that has not seen.”
+
+“Upon my soul, Mrs. Delaney, you are quite a mystery.”
+
+“Oh! am I?”
+
+“I can't dive into such depths. I'm ignorant.”
+
+“Tell those that know you no better. But you can't blind me. I know
+that you know--and more than that, I can guess what's carrying you to
+Alabama. It's not law business, I know that.”
+
+I was vexed enough, as may be supposed, at this malicious pertinacity,
+but I kept down my struggling gorge with a resolution which I had
+been compelled often enough to exercise before; and quietly ended the
+interview by taking my hat and departure, as I said:--
+
+“You are certainly a very sagacious lady, Mrs. Delaney; but I must leave
+you, and wait your own time to make these mysterious revelations. My
+respects to Mr. Delaney. Good morning.”
+
+“Oh, good morning; but let me tell you, Mr. Clifford, if you don't see,
+it's not because you can't. Other people can see without trying.”
+
+The Jezabel!
+
+My preparations were soon completed. I worked with the spirit of
+enthusiasm--I had so many motives to be active; and, subordinate among
+these, but still important, I should get out of the reach of this very
+woman. I could not beat her myself but I wished her husband might do it,
+and not to anticipate my own story, he did so in less than three months
+after. He was the man too, to perform such a labor with unction and
+emphasis. A vigorous man with muscles like bolt-ropes, and limbs that
+would have been respectable in the days of Goliah. I met him on leaving
+the steps of Mrs. Delaney's lodgings, and--thinking of the marital
+office I wished him to perform--I was rejoiced to discover that he was
+generously drunk--in the proper spirit for such deeds in the flesh.
+
+He seized my hand with quite a burst of enthusiasm, swore I was a likely
+fellow, and somehow he had a liking for me.
+
+“Though, to be sure, my dear fellow, it's not Mrs. Delaney that
+loves any bone in your skin. She's a lady that, like most of the dear
+creatures, has a way of her own for thinking. She does her own thinking,
+and what can a woman know about such a business. It's to please her that
+I sit by and say nothing; and a wife must be permitted some indulgence
+while the moon lasts, which the poets tell us, is made out of honey: but
+it's never a long moon in these days, and a small cloud soon puts an end
+to it. Wait till that time, Mr. Clifford, and I'll put her into a way of
+thinking, that'll please you and myself much better.”
+
+I thanked him for his good opinion, and civilly wished him--as it was
+a matter which seemed to promise him so much satisfaction--that the
+duration of the honeymoon should be as short as possible. He thanked me
+affectionately--grasped my hand with the squeeze of a blacksmith, and
+entreated that I should go back and take a drink of punch with him. As
+an earnest of what he could give me, he pulled a handful of lemons from
+his pocket which he had bought from a shop by the way. I need not say
+I expressed my gratitude, though I declined his invitation. I then told
+him I was about to remove to Alabama, and he immediately proposed to go
+along with me. I reminded him that he was just married, and it would be
+expected of him that he would see the honeymoon out.
+
+“Ah, faith!” he replied, “and there's sense in what you say; it must be
+done, I suppose; but devil a bit, to my thinking, does any moon last a
+month in this climate; and the first cloudy weather, d'ye see, and I'm
+after you.”
+
+It was difficult to escape from the generous embraces of my ardent
+father-in-law; and the whole street witnessed them.
+
+That afternoon I spent in part with the Edgertons. I went soon after my
+own dinner and found the family at theirs. William Edgerton was present.
+The old man insisted that I should take a seat at the table and
+join them in a bottle of wine, which I did. It was a family, bearing
+apparently all the elements within itself of a happiness the most
+perfect and profound. Particularly an amiable family. Yet there was no
+insipidity. The father has already been made known; the son should be
+by this time; the mother was one of those strong-minded, simple
+women, whose mind may be expressed by its most striking
+characteristic--independence. She had that most obvious trait of
+aristocratic breeding, a quiet, indefinable, easy dignity--a seemingly
+natural quality, easy itself, that puts everybody at ease, and yet
+neither in itself nor in others suffered the slightest approach to
+be made to unbecoming familiarity. A sensible, gentlewoman--literally
+gentle--yet so calm, so firm, you would have supposed she had never
+known one emotion calculated to stir the sweet, glass-like placidity of
+her deportment.
+
+And yet, amidst all this calm placidity, with an eye looking
+benevolence, and a considerateness that took note of your smallest want,
+she sustained the pangs of one yearning for her firstborn; dissatisfied
+and disappointed in his career, and apprehensive for his fate. The
+family was no longer happy. The worm was busy in all their hearts.
+They treated me kindly, but it was obvious that they were suffering. A
+visible constraint chilled and baffled conversation; and I could see the
+deepening anxieties which clouded the face of the mother, whenever her
+eye wandered in the direction of her son. This it did, in spite, I am
+convinced, of her endeavors to prevent it.
+
+I, too, could now look in the same quarter. My feelings were less bitter
+than they were, and William Edgerton shared in the change. I did not the
+less believe him to have done wrong, but, in the renewed conviction
+of my wife's purity, I could forgive him, and almost think he was
+sufficiently punished in entertaining affections which were without
+hope. Punished he was, whether by hopelessness or guilt, and punished
+terribly. I could see a difference for the worse in his appearance since
+I had last conferred with him. He was haggard and spiritless to the last
+degree. He had few words while we sat at table, and these were spoken
+only after great effort; and, regarding him now with less temper
+than before, it seemed to me that his parents had not exaggerated the
+estimate which they had formed of his miserable appearance. He looked
+very much like one, who had abandoned himself to nightly dissipation,
+and those excesses of mind and body, which sap from both the saving
+and elevating substance. I did not wonder that the old man ascribed his
+condition to the bottle and the gaming-table. But that I knew better,
+such would most probably have been my own conclusion.
+
+The conversation was not general--confined chiefly to Mr. Edgerton the
+elder and myself. Mrs. Edgerton remained awhile after the cloth had been
+withdrawn, joining occasionally in what was said, and finally left us,
+though with still a lingering, and a last look toward her son, which
+clearly told where her heart was. William Edgerton followed her, after
+a brief interval, and I saw no more of him, though I remained for more
+than an hour. He had said but little. It was with some evident effort,
+that he had succeeded in uttering some general observation on the
+subject of the Alabama prairies--those beautiful “gardens of the
+desert,”
+
+
+     “For which the speech of England has no name.”
+
+
+My removal had been the leading topic of our discourse, and when I
+declared my intention to start on the very next day, and that the
+present was a farewell visit, the emotion of the son visibly increased.
+Soon after he left the room. When I was alone with the father, he took
+occasion to renew his offer of service, and, in such a manner, as to
+take from the offer its tone of service. He seemed rather to ask a favor
+than to suggest one. Money he could spare--the repayment should be at my
+own leisure--and my bond would be preferable, he was pleased to say, to
+that of any one he knew. I thanked him with becoming feelings, though,
+for the present, I declined his assistance. I pledged myself, however,
+should circumstances make it necessary for me to seek a loan, to turn,
+in the first instance, to him. He had been emphatically my friend--THE
+friend, sole, singular--never fluctuating in his regards, and never
+stopping to calculate the exact measure of my deserts. I felt that I
+could not too much forbear in reference to the son, having in view the
+generous friendship of the father.
+
+That day, and the night which followed it, was a long period with me. I
+had to see many acquaintances, and attend to a thousand small matters.
+I was on my feet the whole day, and even when the night came I had no
+rest. I was in the city till near eleven o'clock. When I got home I
+found that my wife had done her share of the tasks. She had completed
+her preparations. Our luggage was all ready for removal. To her I
+had assigned the labor of packing up her pictures, her materials for
+painting, her clothes, and such other matters as she desired to carry
+with us, to our new place of abode. The rest was to be sold by a friend
+after our departure, and the proceeds remitted. I knew I should need
+them all. Most of our baggage was to be sent by water. We travelled in
+a private carriage, and consequently, could take little. Julia, unlike
+most women, was willing to believe with me that impediments are the
+true name for much luggage; and, with a most unfeminine habit, she could
+limit herself without reluctance to the merest necessities. We had no
+bandboxes, baskets, or extra bundles, to be stuffed here and there,
+filling holes and corners, and crowding every space, which should be
+yielded entirely to the limbs of the traveller. Though sensitive and
+delicate in a great degree, she had yet that masculine sense which
+teaches that, in the fewness of our wants lies our truest source of
+independence; and she could make herself ready for taking stage or
+steamboat in quite as short a time as myself.
+
+Her day's work had exhausted her. She retired, and when I went up to the
+chamber, she already seemed to sleep. I could not. Fatigue, which had
+produced exhaustion, had baffled sleep. Extreme weariness becomes too
+much like a pain to yield readily to repose. The moment that exercise
+benumbs the frame, makes the limbs ache, the difficulty increases of
+securing slumber. I felt weary, but I was restless also. I felt that it
+would be vain for me to go to bed. Accordingly, I placed myself beside
+the window, and looked out meditatingly upon the broad lake which lay
+before our dwelling.
+
+The night was very calm and beautiful. The waters from the lake were
+falling. Tide was going out, and the murmuring clack of a distant
+sawmill added a strange sweetness to the hour, and mingled harmoniously
+with the mysterious goings on of midnight. The starlight, not brilliant,
+was yet very soft and touching. Isolated and small clouds, like
+dismembered ravens' wings, flitted lightly along the edge of the
+western horizon, shooting out at intervals brief, brilliant flashes of
+lightning. There was a flickering breeze that played with the shrubbery
+beneath my window, making a slight stir that did not break the quiet
+of the scene, and gave a graceful movement to the slender stems as they
+waved to and fro beneath its pressure. A noble pride of India [Footnote:
+China tree: the melia azedaracha of botanists. A tree peculiar to the
+south, of singular beauty, and held in high esteem as a shade-tree.]
+rose directly before my eyes to the south--its branches stretching
+almost from within touch of the dwelling, over the fence of a neighbor.
+The whole scene was fairy-like. I should find it indescribable. It
+soothed my feelings. I had been the victim of a long and painful moral
+conflict. At length I had a glimmering of repose. Events, in the last
+few days--small events which, in themselves denoted nothing--had yet
+spoken peace to my feelings. My heart was in that dreamy state of
+languor, such as the body enjoys under the gradually growing power of
+the anodyne, in which the breath of the summer wind brings a language of
+luxury, and the most emperiest sights and sounds in nature minister to
+a capacity of enjoyment, which is not the less intoxicating and sweet
+because it is subdued. I mused upon my own heart, upon the heart which
+I so much loved and had so much distrusted--upon life, its strange
+visions, delusive hopes, and the sweet efficacy of mere shadows in
+promoting one's happiness et last. Then came, by natural degrees, the
+thought of that strange mysterious union of light and darkness--life and
+death--the shadows that we are; the substances that we are yet to be.
+The future!--still it rose before me--but the darkness upon it alone
+showed me it was there. It did not offend me, however, for my heart was
+glowing in a present starlight. It was the hour of hopes rather than of
+fears; and in the mere prospect of transition to the new--such is the
+elastic nature of youth--I had agreed to forget every pang whether of
+idea or fact, which had vexed and tortured me in the perished past. My
+musings were all tender yet joyful--they partook of that “joy of grief”
+ of which the bard of Fingal tells us. I felt a big tear gathering in my
+eye, I knew not wherefore. I felt my heart growing feeble, with the same
+delight which one would feel at suddenly recovering a great treasure
+which had been supposed for ever lost. I fancied that I had recovered my
+treasure, and I rose quietly, went to the bed where Julia lay sleeping
+peacefully, and kissed her pale but lovely cheeks. She started, but did
+not waken--a gentle sigh escaped her lips, and they murmured with some
+indistinct syllables which I failed to distinguish. At that moment the
+notes of a flute rose softly from the grove without.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+RENEWED AGONIES.
+
+
+In that same moment my pangs were all renewed; my repose of mind
+departed; once more my heart was on fire, my spirit filled with vague
+doubts, grief, and commotion. The soft, sweet, preluding note of the
+player had touched a chord in my soul as utterly different from that
+which it expressed, as could by any possibility be conceived. Heart and
+hope were instantly paralyzed. Fear and its train, its haunting spectres
+of suspicion, took possession of the undefended citadel, and established
+guard upon its deserted outposts. I tottered to the window which I had
+left--I shrouded myself in the folds of the curtain, and as the strains
+rose, renewed and regular, I struggled to keep in my breath, listening
+eagerly, as if the complaining instrument could actually give utterance
+to the cruel mystery which I equally dreaded and desired to hear.
+
+The air which was played was such as I had never heard before. Indeed,
+it could scarcely be called an air. It was the most capricious burden of
+mournfulness that had ever had its utterance from wo. Fancy a
+mute--one bereft of the divine faculty of speech, by human, not divine
+ministration. Fancy such a being endowed with the loftiest desires,
+moved by the acutest sensibilities, having already felt the pleasures
+of life, yet doomed to a denial of utterance, denied the language of
+complaint, and striving, struggling through the imperfect organs of his
+voice to give a name to the agony which works within him. That flute
+seemed to me to moan, and sob, and shiver, with some such painful mode
+of expression as would be permitted to the “half made-up” mortal of whom
+I have spoken. Its broken tones, striving and struggling, almost rising
+at times into a shriek, seemed of all things to complain of its own
+voicelessness.
+
+And yet it had its melody--melody, to me, of the most vexing power. I
+should have called the strain a soliloquizing one. It certainly did not
+seem addressed to any ears. It wanted the continuance of apostrophe. It
+was capricious. Sometimes the burden fell off suddenly--broken--wholly
+interrupted--as if the vents had been all simultaneously and suddenly
+stopped. Anon, it rose again--soul-piercing if not loud--so abruptly,
+and with an utterance so utterly gone with wo, that you felt sure the
+poor heart must break with the next breath that came from the laboring
+and inefficient lungs. A “dying fall” succeeding, seemed to afford
+temporary relief. It seemed as if tears must have fallen upon the
+instrument, Its language grew more methodical, more subdued, but not
+less touching. I fancied, I felt, that, entering into the soul of
+the musician, I could give the very words to the sentiment which his
+instrument vainly strove to speak. What else but despair and
+utter self-abandonment was in that broken language? The full heart
+over-burdened, breaking, to find a vent for the feelings which it had
+no longer power to contain. And yet; content to break, breaking with a
+melancholy sort of triumph which seemed to say--
+
+“Such a death has its own sweetness; love sanctifies the pang to its
+victim. It is a sort of martyrdom. He who loves truly, though he loves
+hopelessly, has not utterly loved in vain. The devoted heart finds a
+joy in the offering, though the Deity withholds his acceptance--though
+a sudden gust from heaven scatters abroad the rich fruits which the
+devotee has placed upon the despised and dishonored altar.”
+
+Such, I fancied, was the proud language of that melancholy music. Had
+I been other than I was--nay, had I listened to the burden under other
+circumstances and in another place--I should most probably have felt
+nothing but sympathy for the musician. As it was, I can not describe
+my feelings. All my racking doubts and miseries returned. The tone of
+triumph which the strain conveyed wrought upon me like an indignity. It
+seemed to denote that “foregone conclusion” which had been my cause of
+apprehension so long. Could it be then that Julia was really guilty?
+Could she have given William Edgerton so much encouragement that triumph
+and exultation should still mingle with his farewell accents of despair?
+Ah! what fantasies preyed upon my soul; haunted the smallest movements
+of my mind; conjured up its spectres, and gave bitterness to its every
+beverage! When I thought thus of Julia, I rose cautiously from my seat,
+approached the bed where she was lying, and gazed steadily, though with
+the wildest thrill of emotion, into her face. I verily believe had she
+not been sleeping at that moment--sleeping beyond question--she would
+have shared the fate of
+
+     “The gentle lady wedded to the Moor.”
+
+I was in the mood for desperate things.
+
+But she slept--her cheek upon her arm--pale, but oh! how beautiful! and
+looking, oh! how pure! Her breathing was as tranquil and regular as that
+of an infant. I felt, while I gazed, that hers must be the purity of an
+infant also. I turned from beholding her, as the renewed notes of the
+musician once more ascended to the chamber. I again took my seat at
+the window and concealed myself behind the curtain. Here I had been
+concealed but a few moments, when I heard a rustling in the branches of
+the tree. Meanwhile, the music again ceased. I peered cautiously from
+behind the drapery, and fancied I beheld a dark object in the tree. It
+might be one of its branches, but I had not been struck by it before. I
+waited in breathless watchfulness. I saw it move. Its shape was that
+of a man. An exulting feeling of violence filled my breast. I rose
+stealthily, went into the dressing-room, and took up one of my pistols
+which lay on the toilet, and which I had that afternoon prepared with a
+travelling charge.
+
+“A brace of bullets,” I muttered to myself, “will bring out another sort
+of music from this rare bird.”
+
+With this murderous purpose I concealed myself once more behind the
+curtain. The figure was sufficiently distinct for aim. The window was
+not more than twelve or fourteen paces from the tree. My nerves were now
+as steady as if I had been about to perform the most ordinary action.
+What then prevented me? What stayed my arm? A single thought--a
+momentary recollection of an event which had taken place in my boyhood.
+What a providence that it should have occurred to me at that particular
+moment. The circumstance was this.
+
+When first sent to school I had been frequently taken at advantage by
+a bigger boy. He had twice my strength--he took a strong dislike for
+me--perhaps, because I was unwilling to pay him that deference, which,
+as school-bully, he extorted from all others;--and he drubbed me
+accordingly, whenever an opportunity occurred. My resistance was vain,
+and only stimulated him to increased brutality. One day he was lying
+upon the grass, beneath an oak which stood in the centre of a common on
+which we usually played. It happened that I drew near him unperceived.
+In approaching him I had no purpose of assault or violence. But the
+circumstance of my nearing him without being seen, suggested to my
+mind a sudden thought of revenging all my previous injuries. I felt
+bitterness and hate enough, had I possessed the strength, to have slain
+a dozen. I do not know that I had any design to slay him--to revenge
+myself was certainly my wish. Of death probably I had no idea. I looked
+about me for the agent of my vengeance. A pile of old brick which had
+formed the foundations of a dwelling which had stood on the spot,
+and which had been burned, conveniently presented itself to my eye. I
+possessed myself of as large a fragment as my little hand could grasp;
+I secured a second as a dernier resort. Slowly and slily--I may add,
+basely--I approached him from behind, levelled the brick at his head,
+and saw the blood fly an instant after the contact. He was stunned by
+the blow, staggered up, however, with his eyes blinded by blood,
+and moved after me like a drunken man. I receded slowly, lifting the
+remaining fragment which I held, intending, if he approached me, to
+repeat the blow.
+
+On a sudden he fell forward sprawling. Then I thought him dead, and
+for the first time the dreadful consciousness of my crime in its true
+character, came to my mind. I can not describe the agony of fear and
+horror which filled my soul. He did not die, but he was severely hurt.
+
+The recollection of that event--of what I then suffered--came to me
+involuntarily, as I was about to perform a second similar crime. I
+shuddered with the recollection of the past, and shrunk, under the equal
+force of shame and conscience, from the performance of a deed which,
+otherwise, I should probably have committed in the brief time which
+I employed for reflection. With a feeling of nervous horror I put the
+weapon aside, and sinking once more into the chair beside the window
+I bore with what fortitude I might, the renewal of the accursed but
+touching strains that vexed me.
+
+William Edgerton was a master of the flute. Often before, when we were
+the best friends, had I listened with delight, while he compelled it
+into discourse of music wild and somewhat incoherent still: his present
+performance had now attained more continuousness and character. It was
+still mournful, but its sorrows rose and fell naturally, in compliance
+with the laws of art. I listened till I could listen no longer. Human
+patience must have its limits. My wife still slept. I descended the
+stairs, opened the door with as much cautiousness as possible, and
+prepared to grapple the musician and haul him into the light.
+
+It might be Edgerton or not. I was morally sure it was. By grappling
+with him, in such a situation, I should bring the affair to a final
+issue, though it might not be a murderous one. But of that I did not
+think; I went forward to do something; what that something was to be,
+it was left for time and chance to determine. But, suddenly, as I opened
+the door, the music ceased. Stepping into the yard, I heard the sound as
+of a falling body. I naturally concluded that he had heard the opening
+of the door, and had suffered himself to drop down to the ground. I took
+for granted that he had descended on the opposite side of the yard and
+within the enclosure of a neighbor. I leaped the fence, hurried to the
+tree, traversed the grounds, and found nobody. I returned, reached my
+own premises, and found the gate open which opened upon the street. He
+had gone then in that direction. I turned into this street, posted
+with all speed to the corner of the square and met only the watchman.
+I asked, but he had seen nobody. The street was perfectly quiet, I
+returned, reascended to my chamber, found Julia now awake, and evidently
+much agitated. She had arisen in my absence, and was only about to
+re-enter the bed when I rushed up stairs.
+
+What was I to think? What fear? I was too conscious of the suspicious
+nature of my thoughts and fears to suffer myself to ask any
+questions--and she, unhappily for both of us--she said nothing. Had she
+but spoken--had she but uttered the natural inquiry--“Did you hear that
+strange music, husband?”--how much easier had been her extrication. But
+she was silent, and I was again let loose upon a wide sea of fears and
+doubts and damnable apprehensions. Once more, and now with a feeling
+which would not have made me forbear the use of any weapon, however
+deadly, I re-examined my own enclosure, but in vain. The horrible
+thought which possessed me was that he had even penetrated the dwelling
+while I was seeking him in the street; that they had met; and how was
+I to know the degree of tenderness which had marked their meeting and
+sweetness to their adieus!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+THE NEW HOME.
+
+
+With these revived suspicions, half stifled, but still struggling in
+my bosom, did I commence my journey for the West. My arrangements were
+comprehensive, but simple. I had procured a second-hand travelling
+carriage and fine pair of horses from an acquaintance, at a very
+moderate price--a price which, I well knew, I should easily get for them
+again on reaching my place of destination. I was my own driver. I had
+no money to spare in purchasing what might be dispensed with. A single
+trunk contained all the necessary luggage of my wife and self. What was
+not absolutely needed by the wayside was sent on by water. This included
+my books, desks, Julia's painting materials, and such other articles
+of the household, as were of cost and not bulky. I had previously
+written--as I may have stated already--to my friend Kingsley. He was to
+procure me temporary lodgings in the town of M---. I left much to his
+judgment and experience. He had once before been in Alabama and having
+interests there, had made himself familiar with everything in that
+region, necessary to be known. I put myself very much in his hands.
+I was too anxious to get away to urge any difficulties or make any
+troublesome requisitions. He was simply to procure me an abiding-place
+in some private family--if possible in the suburbs--until I should be
+able to look about me. Economy was insisted upon. I had precious little
+money to spare, and even the spoils of my one night's visit to the
+gaming-house, were of no small help in sustaining me in my determination
+to remove. I had not applied them previously. I confess to a feeling of
+shame when I was compelled by necessity at last to use them. I had saved
+something already from my professional income, and I procured an advance
+on my furniture which was left for sale. I had calculated my expenses in
+removing and for one year's residence in M--, and was prepared, so far
+as poor human foresight may prepare itself, to keep want from our doors
+at least for that period. I trusted to good fortune, my own resources,
+and the notorious fact that, at that day, there were few able lawyers
+in M--, to secure me an early and valuable practice. I carried with me
+letters from the best men in the community I had left. But I carried
+with me what was of more value than any letters, even though they be
+written in gold. I carried with me methodical habits and an energy of
+character which would maintain my resolution, and bear me through, to
+a safe conclusion, in any plan which I should contemplate. Industry and
+perseverance are the giants that cast down forests, drain swamps, level
+mountains, and create empires. I flattered myself that with these I had
+other and crowning qualities of intellect and culture. Perhaps it may
+be admitted that I had. But of what avail were all when coupled with the
+blind heart? Enough--I must not anticipate.
+
+Filled with the exciting fancies engendered by the affair of the last
+night, I commenced my journey. The day was a fine one; the sun cheery
+and bright without being oppressive; and soon, gliding through the broad
+avenues, lined with noblest trees, which conducted us from the city to
+the forests, we had the pleasant carol of birds, and the lively chirp of
+hopping insects.
+
+I was always a lover of the woods; green shady dells, and winding walks
+amidst crowding foliage. I cared little for mere flowers. A garden was
+never a desire in my mind. I could be pleased to see and to smell, but I
+had no passion for its objects. But the trees--the big, venerable oaks,
+like patriarchs and priests; the lofty and swaggering pines in their
+green helmets, like warriors of the feudal ages--these were forms that
+I could worship. I may say, I loved trees with a real passion. Flowers,
+and the taste for flowers seemed to me always petty; but my instincts
+led me to behold a sneaking and most impressive grandeur, in these old
+lords of the forest, that had been the first, rising from the mighty
+mother to attest the wondrous strength of her resources, and the teeming
+glories of her womb.
+
+Now, however, they did not fill my soul with earnest reachings, as had
+ever been the case before. They soothed me somewhat, but the eyes of
+my mind were turned within. They looked only at the prostration of
+that miserable heart which was torturing itself with vague, wild
+doubts--guessing and conjecturing with an agonizing pain, and without
+the least hope of profit. I could not drive from my thoughts, the vexing
+circumstances of the last night in the city; and, for the first day of
+our journey, the hours moved with oppressive slowness. Objects which I
+had formerly loved to contemplate and always found sweet and refreshing,
+now gave me little pleasure and exacted little of my attention; and I
+reached our stopping-place for the night with a sense of weariness
+and stupor which no mere fatigue of body, I well knew, could ever have
+occasioned.
+
+But this could not last. The elasticity of my nature, joined with the
+absence of that one person whom I had now learned to regard as my evil
+genius, soon enabled me to shake off the oppressive doubts and sadness
+which fettered and enfeebled me. Once more I began to behold the forests
+with all the eyes of former delight and affection, and I was conscious,
+after the progress of a day or two, of periods in which I entirely lost
+sight of William Edgerton and all my suspicions in the sweet warmth of a
+fresh and pleasing contemplation.
+
+Something of this--nay, perhaps, the most of it, was due to my wife
+herself. There was a change in her air and manner which sensibly
+affected my heart. I had treated her coldly at first, but she had not
+perceived it; at least she had not suffered it to influence her conduct;
+and I was equally pleased and surprised to behold in her language,
+looks, and deportment, a degree of life and buoyant animation, which
+reminded me of the very champagne exuberance and spirit of her youth.
+Her eyes flashed with a sense of freedom. Her voice sounded with the
+silvery clearness of one, who, long pent up in the limits of a dungeon,
+uses the first moment of escape into the forests to delight himself with
+song. She seemed to have just thrown off a miserable burden;--and, as
+for any grief--any sign of regret at leaving home and tics from which
+she would not willingly part--there was not the slightest appearance of
+any such feeling in her mind, look, or manner. Kindly, considerately,
+and sweetly, and with a cheery smile in her eyes, and a springing vigor
+in the accents of her voice, she strove to enliven the way and to expel
+the gloom which she soon perceived had fastened itself upon my soul. Her
+own cares, if she had any, seemed to be very slight, and were utterly
+lost in mine. She spoke of our new abiding-place with a hearty
+confidence; that it would be at once a home of prosperity and peace;
+and, altogether convinced me for the time that the sacrifice must be
+comparatively very small, which she had made on leaving her birth-place.
+I very soon wondered that I should have fancied that William Edgerton
+was ever more to her than the friend of her husband.
+
+Our journey was slow but not tedious. Had our progress been only half
+so rapid, I should have been satisfied. It was love alone that my heart
+wanted. I craved for nothing but the just requital of my own passion. I
+had no complaint, no affliction, when I could persuade myself that I
+had not thrown away my affections upon the ungrateful and undeserving.
+Assured now of the love of the beloved one, all the intense devotion of
+my soul was re-awakened; and the deepest shadows of the forest, gloomy
+and desolate as they were, along the waste tracts of Georgia and
+Alabama--in that earlier day--enlivened by the satisfied spirit within,
+seemed no more than so many places of retreat, where security and peace,
+combining in behalf of Love, had given him an exclusive sovereignty.
+
+The rude countryman encountered us, and his face beamed with
+cheerfulness and good humor. The song of the black softened the toils of
+labor, in the unfinished clearings; and even the wild red man, shooting
+suddenly from out the sylvan covert, wore in his visage of habitual
+gravity, an air of resignation which took all harshness from his uncouth
+features.
+
+Such, under the tuition of well-satisfied hearts, was our mutual
+experience of the long journey which we had taken when we reached the
+end of it. This we did in perfect safety. We found our friend, Kingsley,
+prepared for and awaiting us. He had procured us pleasant apartments in
+a neat cottage in the suburbs, where we were almost to ourselves. Our
+landlady was an ancient widow, without a family. She occupied but a
+single apartment in her house, and left the use of the rest to
+her lodgers. This was an arrangement with which I was particularly
+gratified. Her cottage lay half way up on the side of a hill which was
+crowned with thick clumps of the noblest trees. Long, winding, narrow
+foot-paths, carried us picturesquely to the summit, where we had a
+bird's-eye view of the town below, the river beyond--now darting out
+from the woods and now hiding securely beneath their umbrage--and fair,
+smooth, lawn-looking fields, which glowed at the proper season with the
+myriad green and white pinnies of corn and cotton. At the foot of the
+cottage lay a delightful shrubbery, which almost covered it up from
+sight. It was altogether such a retreat as a hermit would desire. It
+reminded me somewhat of the lovely spot which we had left. A pleasant
+walk of a mile lay between it and the town where I proposed to practice,
+and this furnished a necessity for a certain degree of exercise, which,
+being unavoidable, was of the most valuable kind. Altogether, Kingsley
+had executed his commission with a taste and diligence which left me
+nothing to complain of.
+
+He was delighted at my coming.
+
+“You are nearer to me now,” he said; “will be nearer at least when I get
+to Texas; and I do not despair to see you making tracks after me when I
+go there.”
+
+“But when go you?”
+
+“Not soon. I am in some trouble here. I am pleading and being impleaded.
+You are just come in season to take up the cudgels for me. My landrights
+are disputed--my titles. You will have something of a lawsuit to begin
+upon at your earliest leisure.”
+
+“Indeed! but what's the business?”
+
+He gave me a statement of his affairs, placed his papers in my hands,
+and I found myself, on inspecting them, engaged in a controversy which
+was likely to give me the opportunity which I desired, of appearing soon
+in cases of equal intricacy and interest. Kingsley had some ten thousand
+dollars in land, the greater part of which was involved in questions of
+title and pre-emption, presenting some complex features, and likely to
+occasion bad blood among certain trespassers whom it became our first
+duty to oust if possible. I was associated with a spirited young lawyer
+of the place; a youth of great natural talent, keen, quick intellect,
+much readiness of resource, yet little experience and less reading. Like
+the great mass of our western men, however, he was a man to improve. He
+had no self-conceit--did not delude himself with the idea that he
+knew as much as his neighbor; and, consequently, was pretty certain to
+increase in wisdom with increase of years. He had few prejudices to get
+over, and though he knew his strength, he also knew his weakness. He
+felt the instinct of natural talent, but he did not deceive himself on
+the subject of his deficient knowledge. He was willing to learn whenever
+he could find a teacher. His name was Wharton. I took to him at once. He
+was an ardent, manly fellow--frank as a boy--could laugh and weep in the
+same hour, and yet was as firm in his principles, as if he could neither
+laugh nor weep. As an acquaintance he was an acquisition.
+
+Kingsley was delighted to see me, though somewhat wondering that I
+should give up the practice at home, where I was doing so well, to
+break ground in a region where I was utterly unknown. He gave me little
+trouble, however, in accounting to him for this movement. It was
+not difficult to persuade him--nay, he soon persuaded himself--that
+something of my present course was due to his own counsel and
+suggestion. To a man, like himself, to whom mere transition was
+pleasure, it needed no argument to show that my resolve was right.
+
+“Who the d--l,” he exclaimed, “would like always to be in the same
+place? Such a person is a mere cipher. We establish an intellectual
+superiority when we show ourselves superior to place. A genuine man is
+always a citizen of the world. It is your vegetable man that can not
+go far without grumbling, finding fault with all he sees, talking of
+comforts and such small matters, and longing to get home again. Such a
+man puts me in mind of every member of the cow family that I ever knew.
+He is never at peace with himself or the world, but always groaning and
+thrusting out his horns, until he can get back to his old range, and
+revel in his native marsh, joint-grass, and cane-tops. Englishmen are
+very much of this breed. They go abroad, grumble as they go, and if they
+can not carry their cane-tops with them, afflict the whole world with
+their lamentations. I take it for granted, Clifford, that this step
+to Alabama, is simply a step toward Texas. Your next will be to New
+Orleans, and then, presto, we shall see you on the Sabine.”
+
+“I hope not,” said my wife. “You have got us into such comfortable
+quarters here, Mr. Kingsley, that I hope you will do nothing to tempt
+my husband farther. Go farther and fare worse, you know. Let well enough
+alone.”
+
+“Oh. I beseech you!--two proverbs at a time will be fatal to one or
+other of us. Perhaps both. But he can not fare worse by going to Texas.”
+
+“He will do well enough here.”
+
+“Perhaps.”
+
+“Recover your lands, for example, as a beginning.”
+
+“Ah! now you would bribe me. That is certainly a suggestion to make me
+keep my tongue, at least until the verdict is rendered. 'Till then, you
+know, I shall make no permanent remove myself.”
+
+“But do you mean to go before the trial?” I asked.
+
+“Yes, for a couple of months or so. I should only get into some squabble
+with my opponents by remaining here; and I may be preparing for all of
+us by going in season. I will look out for a township, Mrs. Clifford, on
+the edge of some beautiful prairie, and near some beautiful river. Your
+husband has a passion for water prospects, I can tell you, and would
+become a misanthrope without them. I am doubtful if he will be happy,
+indeed, if not within telescope distance from the sea itself. I don't
+think that a river will altogether satisfy him.”
+
+“Oh yes, THIS must;” and as she spoke she pointed to the fair glassy
+surface of the Alabama, as it stretched away, at intervals, in broad
+glimpses before our eyes.
+
+“Well, we shall see; but I will make my preparations, nevertheless,
+precisely as if he were not likely to be content. I have formed to
+myself a plan for all of you. I must make a dear little colony of our
+own in Texas. We shall have a nest of the sweetest little cottages, each
+with its neat little garden. In the centre we shall have a neat little
+playground for our neat little children; on the hill a neat little
+church; in the grove a neat little library; on the river a neat little
+barge; and over this neat little empire, you, Lady Clifford, shall be
+the neat little empress.”
+
+“Dear me! what a neat little establishment!”
+
+“It shall be all that, I assure you; and it shall have other advantages.
+You shall have a kingdom free from taxes and wars. There shall be no
+law-givers but yourself. We shall have no elections except when we elect
+our wives, and the women shall be the only voters then. We shall have
+no custom houses--everything shall be free of duty;--we shall have no
+banks--everything shall be free of charge;--we shall have no parson, for
+shall we not be sinless?”
+
+“But what will you do with the neat little church?”
+
+“Oh! that we shall keep merely to remind us of what is necessary in less
+fortunate communities.”
+
+“Very good; but how, if you have no parsons, will you perform the
+marriage ceremony?”
+
+“That shall be a natural operation of government. The voters having
+given their suffrages, you shall determine and declare with whom the
+majority lies, and give a certificate to that effect. The first choice
+will lie with the damsel having the highest number of votes; the second
+with the next; and so on to the end of the chapter; and then elections
+are to take place annually among the unmarried--the ladies being the
+privileged class as I said before. You will keep a record of these
+events, the names of parties, and so forth; and this record shall be
+proof, conclusive to conviction, against any party falling off from his
+or her duties.”
+
+“Quite a system. I do not deny that our sex will have some new
+privileges by this arrangement.”
+
+“Unquestionably. But you have not heard all. We shall have no doctors,
+for we shall have no diseases in the beautiful world to which I shall
+carry you. We shall have no lawyers, for we shall have no wrangling.”
+
+“Indeed; but what is my husband to do then?”
+
+“Why, he is your husband. What should he do? He takes rank from you. You
+are queen, you know. He will have no need of law.”
+
+“There's reason in that; but how will you prevent wrangling where there
+are men and women?”
+
+“Oh, by giving the women their own way. The government is a
+despotism--you are queen--surely you will make no further objection to
+so admirable a system?”
+
+In good-humored chat like this, in which our landlady, Mrs.
+Porterfield--a lady who, though fully sixty-five years of age, was yet
+of a cheery and chatty disposition--took considerable part, our first
+evening passed away. Though fatigued, we sat up until a tolerably
+late hour, enlivened by the frank spirit of our friend, Kingsley,
+and inspired by the natural feeling of curiosity which our change of
+situation inspired It was midnight before we solicited the aid of sleep.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+THE BLACK DOG ONCE MORE UPON THE SCENE.
+
+
+The next day was devoted to an examination of our premises and the
+neighborhood. The result of this examination was such as to render us
+better satisfied with the change that we had made. We were still young
+enough to be sensible to the loveliness of novelty. Everything wore that
+purple light which the eye of youth confers upon the object. And then
+there was repose. That harassing strife of the “blind heart” was at
+rest. I had no more suspicions; and my wife looked and spoke as if
+she had never had either doubts of me, or fears of herself, within her
+bosom. I was happiness itself, when, by the unreserved ease and gayety
+of her deportment she persuaded me that she suffered no regrets. I
+little fancied how much the change in my wife's manner had arisen from
+the involuntary change which had been going on in mine. I now looked
+the love which I felt; and she felt, in the improvement of my looks, the
+renewal of that fond passion which I had never ceased to feel, but
+which I had only too much ceased to show while suffering from the “blind
+heart.” She resumed her old amusements with new industry. Our little
+parlor received constant accessions of new pictures. All our leisure was
+employed in exploring the scenery of the neighborhood; and not a bit of
+forest, or patch of hill, or streak of rivulet or stream, to which the
+genius of art could lend loveliness, but she picked up, in these happy
+rambles, and worked into fitting places upon our cottage walls.
+
+Our good old hostess became attached to us. She virtually surrendered
+the management of the household to my wife. She was old and quite
+infirm; and was frequently confined for days to her chamber; which must
+have been a solitary place enough before our coming. My wife became
+a companion to her in these periods of painful seclusion, and thus
+provided her with a luxury which had been long denied her. Under
+these circumstances we had very much our own way. The old lady had
+few associates, and these were generally very worthy people. They soon
+became our associates also, and under the influence of better feelings
+than had governed me for a long time past, I now found myself in a
+condition of comfort, cheerfulness, and peace, which I fancied I had
+forfeited for ever.
+
+Two weeks after our arrival, Kingsley took his departure for Texas, on
+a visit. He proposed to be absent two months. His object, as he had
+described it before, in some pleasant exaggerations, was to select some
+favorable spots for purchase, which should combine as nearly as possible
+the three prime requisites of salubrity, fertility, and beauty. His
+object was to speculate; “and this was to be done,” he said, “at an
+early hour of the day.” “The Spanish proverb,” he was wont to say,
+“which regulates the eating of oranges, is not a bad rule to govern
+a man in making his speculations. Speculations (oranges) are gold at
+morning, silver at noon, and lead at night. It is your wise man,” he
+added, “who buys and sells early; your merely sensible man who does
+so at midday; while your dunce, waiting for an increased appetite at
+evening, swallows nothing but lead.”
+
+I was in some respects a very fortunate man. If I had been a wise one!
+It has been seen that I was singularly successful in business at my
+first beginning in my native city. I had not been long in the town
+of M--, before I began to congratulate myself on the prospect of like
+fortune attending me there. The affairs of Kingsley brought me into
+contact with several men of business. My letters of introduction made
+me acquainted with many more; not simply of the town, but of the
+neighboring country. My ardency of temper was particularly suited to a
+frank, confiding people, such as are most of the southwestern men; and
+one or two accidental circumstances yielded me professional occupation
+long before I expected to find it. I had occasion to appear in court
+at an early day, and succeeded in making a favorable impression upon
+my hearers. To be a good speaker, in the south and southwest, is to be
+everything. Eloquence implies wisdom--at least all the wisdom which is
+supposed to be necessary in making lawyers and law-makers--a precious
+small modicum of a material by no means precious. I was supposed to
+have the gift of the gab in moderate perfection, and my hearers were
+indulgent. My name obtained circulation, and, in a short time, I
+discovered that, in a professional as well as personal point of view,
+I had no reason to regret the change of residence which I had made.
+Business began to flow in upon me. Applications reached me from
+adjoining counties, and though my fees, like the cases which I was
+employed in, were of moderate amount, they promised to be frequent,
+while my clients generally were very substantial persons.
+
+It will not need that I should dwell farther on these topics. It will be
+sufficient to show that, in worldly respects, I was as likely to prosper
+in my new as in my past abode. In social respects I had still more
+reason to be gratified. The days went by with me as smoothly as with
+Thalaba. My wife was all that I could wish. She was the very Julia whom
+I had married. Nay, she was something more--something better. Her health
+improved, and with it her spirits. She evidently had no regrets. A sigh
+never escaped her. Her content and cheerfulness were wonderful. She
+had none of that vague, vain yearning which the feeble feel, called
+“home-sickness.” She convinced me that I was her home--the only home
+that she desired. It was evident that she thought less of our ancient
+city than I did myself. I am sure that if either of us, at any moment,
+felt a desire to look upon it again, the person was myself. I maintained
+a correspondence with the place--received the newspapers, groped over
+them with persevering industry--nay--missed not the advertisements, and
+was disappointed and a discontent on those days when the mail failed.
+My wife had no such appetite. She sometimes read the papers, but she
+appeared to have no curiosity; and, with the exception of an occasional
+letter which she received from her mother, she had no intercourse
+whatever with her former home.
+
+All this was calculated to satisfy me. But this was not all. If
+gentleness, sweetness, cheerfulness, and a sleepless consideration
+of one's wants and feelings, could convince any mortal of the love of
+another--I must have been satisfied. We resumed most of the habits which
+began with our marriage, but which had been so long discontinued. We
+rose with the sun, and went abroad after his example. Like him we rose
+to the hill-tops, and then descended into the valleys. We grew familiar
+with the deepest shades of wood and forest while the dewdrops were yet
+beading the bosoms of the wild flowers; and we followed the meandering
+course of the Alabama, long before the smoking steamer vexed it with
+her flashing paddles. My professional toils from breakfast to
+dinner-time--for this interval I studiously gave to my office, even if I
+had little to do there--occasioned the only interregnum which I knew in
+the positive pleasures which I enjoyed. In the afternoon our enjoyments
+were renewed. Our cottage was so sweetly secluded, that we did not need
+to go far in order to find the Elysian grove which we desired. At
+the top of our hill we were surrounded by a natural temple of proud
+pines--guarding the spot from any but that sort of devine and religious
+light which streams through the painted windows of the ancient
+cathedral. The gay glances of the sun came gliding through the foliage
+in drops, and lay upon the grass in little pale, fanciful gleams, most
+like eyes of fairies peeping upward from its velvety tufts. Here we read
+together from the poets--sometimes Julia sung, even while sketching.
+Not unfrequently, Mrs. Porterfield came with us, and, at such times, our
+business was to detect distant glimpses of barge, or steamboat, as they
+successively darted into sight, along such of the glittering patches of
+the Alabama as were revealed to us in its downward progress through the
+woods.
+
+Our evenings were such as hallow and make the luxury of cottage
+life--evenings yielded up to cheerfulness, to content and harmony.
+Between music, and poetry, and painting, my heart was subdued to the
+sweetest refinements of love. Without the immorality, we had the very
+atmosphere of a Sybarite indulgence. I was enfeebled by the excess of
+sweets; and the happiness which I felt expressed itself in signs. These
+denoted my presentiments. My apprehensions were my sole cause of doubt
+and sorrow. How could such enjoyments last? Was it possible, with any,
+that they should last? Was it possible that they should last with me? I
+should have been mad to think it.
+
+But, in the sweet delirium which their possession inspired, I almost
+forgot the past. The soul of man is the most elastic thing in nature.
+Those harassing tortures of the heart which I had been suffering for
+months--those weary days of exhausting doubt--those long nights of
+torturing suspicion--the shame and the fear, the sting of jealousy, and
+the suffering--I had almost forgotten in the absorbing pleasures of my
+new existence. If I remembered them it was only to smile; if I thought
+of William Edgerton it was only to pity;--and, as for Julia, deep
+was the crimson shadow upon my cheek, whenever the reproachful memory
+reminded me of the tortures which I had inflicted upon her gentle heart
+while laboring under the tortures of my own--when I thought of the
+unmanly espionage which I had maintained over conduct which I now felt
+to be irreproachable.
+
+But, just at the moment when I thus thought and felt--when I no longer
+suffered and no longer inflicted pain--when my wife was not only virtue
+in my sight, but love, and beauty, and grace, and meekness--all that was
+good and all that was dear besides;--when my sky was without a cloud,
+and the evening star shone through the blue sky upon the green tops of
+our cottage trees, with the serene lustre of a May-divinity--just then a
+thunderbolt fell upon my dwelling, and blackened the scene for ever.
+
+I had now been three months a resident in M----, and never had I been
+more happy--never less apprehensive on the score of my happiness--when
+I received a letter from my venerable friend and patron, the father of
+William Edgerton.
+
+“My son,” he wrote, “is no better than when you left us. We have every
+reason to believe him worse. He has a cough, he is very thin, and there
+is a flushed spot upon his cheek which seems to his mother and myself
+the indubitable sign of vital decay. His frame is very feeble, and our
+physician advises travel. Under this counsel he set off with a favorite
+servant on Wednesday of last week. He will make easy stages through
+Tennessee to the Ohio, will descend into Mississippi, and return home
+by way of Alabama. He contemplates paying you a brief visit. I need not
+say, dear Clifford, how grateful I shall be for any kindness which you
+can show to my poor boy. His mother particularly invokes it. I should
+not have deemed it necessary to say so much, but would have preferred
+leaving it to William to make his own communication, were it not that
+she so particularly desires it. It may be well to add, that on one
+subject we are both very much relieved. We now have reason to believe
+that our apprehensions on the score of his morals were without
+foundation. It is our present belief that he neither gamed nor drank.
+This is a consolation, dear Clifford, though it brings us no nigher to
+our wish. It is something to believe that the object of our love is not
+worthless; though it adds to the pang that we should feel in the event
+of losing him. Our parting would be less easy. For my own part, I have
+little hope that his journey will do him any material benefit. It may
+prolong his days, but can not, I fear, have any more decided influence
+upon his disease. His mother, however, is more sanguine, and it is
+perhaps well that she should be so. I know that when William reaches
+your neighborhood, you will make it as cheerful and pleasant to him as
+possible. The talent of your young and sweet wife--her endowments in
+painting and music--have always been a great solace to him. His tastes
+you know are very much like hers. I trust she will exercise them, and
+be happy in ministering to the comfort of one, who will not, I fear,
+trespass very long upon any earthly ministry. My dear Clifford, I know
+that you will do your utmost in behalf of your earliest friend, and I
+will waste no more words in unnecessary solicitation.”
+
+Such was the important portion of the letter. In an instant, as I read
+it, I saw, with the instinct of jealousy, the annihilation of all my
+hopes of happiness. All my dreams were in the dust--all my fancies
+scattered--my schemes and temples overthrown. Bitter was the pang I felt
+on reading this letter. It said more--much more--in the very language of
+solicitation which the good old father professed to believe unnecessary.
+He poured forth the language of a father's grief and entreaty. I felt
+for the venerable man--the true friend--in spite of my own miserable
+apprehensions. I felt for him, but what could I do? What would he have
+me do? I had no house in which to receive his son. He would lodge,
+perhaps, for a time, in the community. It could not be supposed that he
+would remain long. The letter of the father spoke only of a brief visit.
+Our neighborhood had no repute, as a place of resort, for consumptive
+patients. I consoled myself with the reflection that William Edgerton
+could, on no pretence, linger more than a week or two among us. I will
+treat him kindly--give him the freedom of the house while he remains. A
+dying man, if so he be, must have reached a due sense of his situation,
+and will not be likely to trespass upon the rights of another. His
+passions must be subdued by this time. Ah! but will not his condition be
+more likely to inspire sympathy?
+
+The fiend of the blind heart prompted that last suggestion. It was the
+only one that I remembered. When I returned home that day to dinner, I
+mentioned, as if casually, the letter I had received, and the contents.
+My eye narrowly watched that of my wife while I spoke. Hers sunk beneath
+my glance Her cheeks were suddenly flushed--then, as suddenly, grew
+pale, and I observed, that, though she appeared to eat, but few morsels
+of food were carried into her mouth that day. She soon left the table,
+and, pleading headache declined joining me in our usual evening rambles.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+TRIAL--THE WOMAN GROWS STRONG.
+
+
+Thus, then, I was once more at sea, rudderless--not yet
+companionless--perhaps, soon to be so. My relapse was as sudden as my
+thought. It seemed as if every past misery of doubt and suspicion were
+at once revived within me. All my day-dreams vanished in an instant.
+William Edgerton would again behold--would again seek--my wife. They
+must meet; I owed that to the father; and, whatever the condition of the
+son might be, it was evident that his feelings toward her must be
+the same as ever; else, why should he seek her out?--why pursue our
+footsteps and haunt my peace? I must receive him and treat him kindly
+for the father's sake; but that one bitter thought, that he was pursuing
+us, the deadly enemy to my peace--and now, evidently, a wilful one--gave
+venom to the bitter feeling with which I had so long regarded his
+attentions.
+
+It was evident, too, whatever may have been its occasion, that the
+knowledge of his coming awakened strange emotions in the bosom of my
+wife. That blush--that sudden paleness of the cheek--what was their
+language? I fain would have struggled against the conviction, that it
+denoted a guilty consciousness of the past--a guilty feeling of the
+future. But the mocking demon of the blind heart forced the assurance
+upon me. What was to be done? Ah! what? This was the question, and there
+was no variation in the reply which my jealous spirit made. There was
+but one refuge. I must pursue the same insidious policy as before. I
+must resort to the same subterfuge, meet them with the same smiles,
+disguise once more the true features of my soul; seem to shut my eyes,
+and afford them the same opportunities as before, in the torturing hope
+(fear?) that I should finally detect them in some guilty folly which
+would be sufficient to justify the final punishment. I must put on the
+aspect of indifference, the better to pursue the vocation of the spy.
+
+Base necessity, but still, as I then fancied, a necessity not the less.
+Ah I was I not a thing to be pitied? Was ever any case more pitiable
+than mine? I ask not this question with any hope that an answer may be
+found to justify my conduct. It is not the less pitiable--nay, it is
+more--that no such answer can be found. My folly is not the less a thing
+of pity, because it is also a thing of scorn. That was the pity--and
+yet, I was most severely tried. Deep were my sufferings! Strong was that
+demon within me--I care not how engendered, whether by the fault
+and folly of others, or by my own--still it was strong. If I was
+guilty--base, blind--was I not also suffering? Never did I inflict on
+the bosom of Julia Clifford, so deep a pang as I daily--nay, hourly,
+inflicted upon my own. She was a victim, true--but was I less so! But
+she was innocently a victim, therefore, less a sufferer, whatever her
+sufferings, than me! Let none condemn or curse me, till they have asked
+what curse I have already undergone. I live!--they will say. Ah! me!
+They must ask what is the value of life, not to themselves, but to a
+crushed, a blasted heart, like mine! But I hurry forward with my pangs
+rather than my story.
+
+Instantly, a barrier seemed to rise up between Julia Clifford ind
+myself. She had her consciousness, evidently, no less than I. What was
+THAT consciousness? Ah! could I have guessed THAT, there would have been
+no barrier--all might have been peace again. But a destiny was at work
+which forbade it all; and we strove ignorantly with one another and
+against ourselves. There was a barrier between us, which our mutual
+blindness of heart made daily thicker, and higher, and less liable to
+overthrow. A coldness overspread my manner. I made it a sort of shelter.
+The guise of indifference is one of the most convenient for hiding other
+and darker feelings. Already we ceased to ramble by river and through
+wood. Already the pencil was discarded. We could no longer enjoy the
+things which so lately made us happy, because we no longer entertained
+the same confidence in one another. Without this confidence there is no
+communion sweet. And all this had been the work of that letter. The name
+of William Edgarton had done it all--his name and threatened visit!
+
+But--and I read, the letter again and again--it would be some time
+before he might be expected. The route, as laid down for him by his
+father, was a protracted one. “Through Georgia, Tennessee, Mississippi,
+then homeward, by way of Alabama.” “He can not be here in less than six
+weeks. He must travel slowly. He must make frequent rests.”
+
+And there was a further thought--a hope--which, though it filled my
+mind, I did not venture to express in words. “He may perish on his
+route: if he be so feeble, it is by no means improbable!”
+
+At all events, I had six weeks' respite--perhaps more. Such was my small
+consolation then. But even this was false. In less than a week from that
+time, William Edgerton stood at the door of our cottage!
+
+Instead of going into Tennessee, he had shot straight forward, through
+Georgia, into Alabama.
+
+Though surprised, I was not confounded by his presence. Under the policy
+which I had resolved upon, I received him with the usual professions
+of kindness, and a manner as nearly warm and natural as the exercise of
+habitual art could make it. He certainly did look very miserable. His
+features wore an expression of uniform despair. They brightened up,
+when he beheld my wife, as the cloud brightens suddenly beneath the
+moonlight. His eyes were riveted upon her. He was almost speechless, but
+he advanced and took her hand, which I observed was scarcely extended to
+him. He sat the evening with us, and a chilly, dull evening it was. He
+himself spoke little--my wife less; and the conversation, such as it
+was, was carried on chiefly between old Mrs. Porterfield and myself.
+But I could see that Edgerton employed his eyes in a manner which fully
+compensated for the silence of his tongue. They were seldom withdrawn
+from the quarter of the apartment in which my wife sat. When withdrawn,
+it was but for an instant, and they soon again reverted to the spot. He
+had certainly acquired a degree of boldness, which, in this respect, he
+had not before possessed. I keenly analyzed his looks without provoking
+his attention. It was not possible for me to mistake the unreserved
+admiration that his glance expressed. There was a strange spiritual
+expression in his eyes, which was painful to the spectator. It was that
+fearful sign which the soul invariably makes when it begins to exert
+itself at the expense of the shell which contains it. It was the sign of
+death already written. But he might linger for months. His cough did
+not seem to me oppressive. The flush was not so obvious upon his
+cheek. Perhaps, looking through the medium of my peculiar feelings, his
+condition was not half so apparent as his designs. At least, I felt my
+sympathies in his behalf--small as they were before--become feebler with
+every moment of his stay that night.
+
+“Edgerton does not appear to me to look so badly,” I said to Julia,
+after his departure for the evening.
+
+“I don't know,” she answered; “he looks very pale and miserable.”
+
+“Quite interesting!” I added, with a smile which might have been a
+sneer.
+
+“Painfully so. He can not last very long--his cough is very
+troublesome.”
+
+“Indeed! I scarcely heard it. He is certainly a very fine-looking fellow
+still, consumption or no consumption.”
+
+She was silent.
+
+“A very graceful fellow: very generous and with accomplishments such
+as are possessed by few. I have often envied him his person and
+accomplishments.”
+
+“You!” she exclaimed, with something like an expression of incredulity.
+
+“Yes!--that is to say, when I was a youth, and when I thought more of
+commending myself to your eyes, than of anything besides.”
+
+“Ah!” she replied with an assuring smile, “you never needed qualities
+other than your own to commend yourself to me.”
+
+“Pleasant hypocrite! And yet, Julia, would you not be better pleased if
+I could draw and color, and talk landscape with you by the hour?”
+
+“No! I have never thought of your doing anything of the kind.”
+
+“Like begets liking.”
+
+“It may be, but I do not think so. I do not think we love people so much
+for what they can do, as for what they are.”
+
+“Ah, Julia, that is a great mistake. It is a law in morals, that the
+qualities of men should depend upon their performances. What a man is,
+results from what he does, and so we judge of persons. Edgerton is a
+noble fellow; his tastes are very fine. I suspect he can form as correct
+an opinion of a fine picture as any one--perhaps, paint it as finely.”
+
+She was silent.
+
+“Do you not think so, Julia?”
+
+“I think he paints very well for an amateur.”
+
+“He is certainly a man of exquisite taste in most matters of taste
+and elegance. I have always thought his manners particularly easy
+and dignified. His carriage is at once manly and graceful; and his
+dancing--do you not think he dances with admirable flexibility?”
+
+“Really, Edward, I can scarcely regard dancing as a manly
+accomplishment. It is necessary that a gentleman should dance,
+perhaps, but it appears to me that he should do so simply because it
+is necessary; and to pass through the measure without ostentation or
+offence should be his simple object.”
+
+“These are not usually the opinions of ladies, Julia.”
+
+“They are mine, however.”
+
+“You are not sure. You will think otherwise to-morrow. At all events, I
+think there can be little doubt that Edgerton is one of the best dancers
+in the circle we have left; he has the happiest taste in painting
+and poetry; and a more noble gentleman and true friend does not exist
+anywhere. I know not to whom I could more freely confide life, wealth,
+and honor, than to him.”
+
+She was silent. I fancied there was something like distress apparent in
+her countenance. I continued:--
+
+“There is one thing, Julia, about which I am not altogether satisfied.”
+
+“Ah!” with much anxiety; “what is that?”
+
+“I owe so much to his father, that, in his present condition, I fancy
+we ought to receive him in our house. We should not let him go among
+strangers, exposed to the noise and neglect of a hotel.”
+
+There was some abruptness in her answer:--
+
+“I do not see how you can bring him here. You forget that we are mere
+lodgers ourselves; indebted for our accommodation to the kindness of a
+lady upon whom we should have no right to press other lodgers. Such an
+arrangement would crowd the house, and make all parties uncomfortable.
+Besides, I suppose Mr. Edgerton will scarcely remain long enough in
+M---to make it of much importance where he lodges, and when he finds the
+tavern uncomfortable he will take his departure.”
+
+“But should he get sick at the tavern?”
+
+“Such a chance would follow him wherever he went. That is the risk which
+every man incurs when he goes abroad. He has a servant with him--no
+doubt a favorite servant.”
+
+“Should he get sick, Julia, even a favorite servant will not be enough.
+It will be our duty to make other provision for him. I owe his father
+much; the old man evidently expects much from me by his last letter. I
+owe the son much. He has been a true friend to me. I must do for him
+as if he were a brother, and should he get sick, Julia, you must be his
+nurse.”
+
+“Impossible, Mr. Clifford!” she replied, with unwonted energy, while a
+deep, dark flush settled over her otherwise placid features, which were
+now not merely discomposed but ruffled. “It is impossible that I should
+be what you require. Suffer me, in this case, to determine my duties
+for myself. Do for YOUR FRIEND what you think proper. You can provide
+a nurse, and secure by money, the best attendance in the town. I do not
+think that I can do better service than a hundred others whom you may
+procure; and you will permit me to say, without seeking to displease
+you, that I will not attempt it.”
+
+I was not displeased at what she said, but it was not my policy to admit
+this. With an air almost of indignation, I replied:
+
+“And you would leave my friend to perish?”
+
+“I trust he will not perish--I sincerely trust he will continue in
+health while he remains here. I implore you, dear husband, to make no
+requisition such as this. I can not serve your friend in this capacity.
+I pray that he may not need it.”
+
+“But should he?”
+
+“I can not serve him.”
+
+“Julia, you are a cold-hearted woman--you do not love me.”
+
+“Cold-hearted, Edward, cold-hearted? Not love you, Edward?--Oh, surely,
+you can not mean it. No! no! you can not!”
+
+She threw herself into my arms, clasped me fondly in hers, and the warm
+tears from her eyes gushed into my bosom.
+
+“Love me, love my dog--at least my friend!” I exclaimed, in austere
+accents, but without repulsing her. I could not repulse her. I had not
+strength to put her from me. The embrace was too dear; and the energy
+with which she rejected a suggestion in which I proposed only to try and
+test her, made her doubly dear at that moment to my bosom. Alas! how, in
+the attempt to torture others, do we torture ourselves! If I afflicted
+Julia in this scene, I am very sure that my own sufferings were more
+intense. One thing alone would have made them so. The ONE quality of
+evil, of the bad spirit which mingled in with MY feelings, and did not
+trouble HERS. But, just then I did not think her innocent altogether. I
+still had my doubts that her resistance to my wishes was simply meant
+to conceal that tendency in her own, the exposure of which she had
+naturally every reason to dread. The demon of the blind heart, though
+baffled for awhile, was still busy. Alas! he was not always to be
+baffled.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+CROSS PURPOSES.
+
+
+Weeks passed and still William Edgerton was a resident of M---, and a
+constant guest at our little cottage. He had, in this time, effectually
+broken up the harmony and banished the peace which had previously
+prevailed there. The unhappy young man pursued the same insane course of
+conduct which had been productive of so much bitterness and trouble to
+us all before; and, under the influence of my evil demon, I adopted the
+same blind policy which had already been so fruitful of misery to
+myself and wife. I gave them constant opportunities together. I found
+my associates, and pursued my pastimes--pastimes indeed--away from home.
+Poetry and song were given up--we no longer wandered by the river-side,
+and upon the green heights of our sacred hill. My evenings were consumed
+in dreary rambles, alone with my own evil thoughts, and miserable
+fancies, or consumed with yellow-eyed watching, from porch or tree, upon
+those privacies of the suspected lovers, in which I had so shamefully
+indulged before. I felt the baseness of this vocation, but I had not the
+strength to give it up. I know there is no extenuation for it. I know
+that it was base! base! base! It is a point of conscience with me, not
+only to declare the truth, but to call things by the truest and most
+characteristic names. Let me do my understanding the justice to say
+that, even when I practised the meanness, I was not ignorant--not
+insensible of its character. It was the strength only--the courage to
+do right, and to forbear the wrong--in which I was deficient. It was the
+blind heart, not the unknowing head to which the shame was attributable,
+though the pang fell not unequally upon heart and head.
+
+Meanwhile, Kingsley returned from Texas. He became my principal
+companion. We strolled together in my leisure hours by day. We sat
+and smoked together in his chamber by night. My blind fortitude may be
+estimated, when the reader is told that Kingsley professed to find me a
+very agreeable companion. He complimented me on my liveliness, my
+wit, my humor, and what not--and this, too, when I was all the while
+meditating, with the acutest feeling of apprehension, upon the very
+last wrong which the spirit of man is found willing to endure;--when I
+believed that the ruin of my house was at hand; when I believed that the
+ruin of my heart and hope had already taken place;--and when, hungering
+only for the necessary degree of proof which justice required before
+conviction, I was laying my gins and snares with the view to detecting
+the offenders, and consummating the last terrible but necessary work
+of vengeance! But Kingsley did not confine himself altogether to the
+language of compliment.
+
+“Good fellow and good companion as you are, Clifford--and loath as I
+should be to give up these pleasant evenings, still I think you very
+wrong in one respect. You neglect your wife.”
+
+“Ha! ha! what an idea! You are not serious?”
+
+“As a judge.”
+
+“Psha! She does not miss me.”
+
+“Perhaps not,” he answered gravely--“but for your own sake if not for
+hers, it seems to me you should pursue a more domestic course.”
+
+“What mean you?”
+
+“You leave your wife too much to herself!--nay--let me be frank--not too
+much to herself, for there would be little danger in that, but too much
+with that fellow Edgerton.”
+
+“What? You would not have me jealous, Kingsley?”
+
+“No! Only prudent.”
+
+“You dislike Edgerton, Kingsley.”
+
+“I do! I frankly confess it. I think he wants manliness of character,
+and such a man always lacks sincerity. But I do not speak of him. I
+should utter the same opinion with respect to any other man, in similar
+circumstances. A wife is a dependent creature--apt to be weak!--If
+young, she is susceptible--equally susceptible to the attentions of
+another and to the neglect of her husband. I do not say that such is
+the case--with your wife. Far from it. I esteem her very much as a
+remarkable woman. But women were intended to be dependents. Most of them
+are governed by sensibilities rather than by principles. Impulse leads
+them and misleads. The wife finds herself neglected by the very man who,
+in particular, owes her duty. She finds herself entertained, served,
+watched, tended with sleepless solicitude, by another; one, not wanting
+either in personal charms and accomplishments, and having similar tastes
+and talents. What should be the result of this? Will she not become
+indifferent where she finds indifference--devoted where she
+finds devotion? A cunning fellow, like Edgerton, may, under these
+circumstances, rob a man of his wife's affections. Mark me, I do not
+say that he will do anything positively dishonorable, at least in
+the world's acceptation of the term. I do not intimate--I would not
+willingly believe--that she would submit to anything of the sort. I
+speak of the affections, not of the virtues. There is shame to the man
+in his wife's dishonor; but the misfortune of losing her affections is
+neither more nor less than the suffering without the shame. Look to it.
+I do not wish to prejudice your mind against Edgerton. Far from it.
+I have forborne to speak hitherto because I knew that my own mind was
+prejudiced against him. Even now I say nothing against HIM. What I say
+has reference to your conduct only.--I do not think Edgerton a bad man.
+I think him a weak one. Weak as a woman--governed, like her, by impulse
+rather than by principle--easily led away--incapable of resisting where
+his affections are concerned--repenting soon, and sinning, in the same
+way, as fast as he repents. He is weak, very weak--washy-weak--he wants
+stamina, and, wanting that, wants principle!”
+
+“Strange enough, if you should be right! How do you reconcile this
+opinion with his refusal to lend you money to game upon? He was governed
+in that by principle.”
+
+“Not a bit of it! He was governed by habit. He knew nothing of
+gambling--had heard his father always preaching against it--it was not
+a temptation with him. His tastes were of another sort. He could not be
+tried in that way. The very fact that he was susceptible, in particular,
+to the charms of female society, saved him from the passion for gaming,
+as it would save him from the passion for drink. But the very tastes
+that saved him from one passion make him particularly susceptible to
+another. He can stand the temptation of play, but not that of women.
+Let him be tried THERE, and he falls! his principle would not save
+him--would not be worth a straw to a drowning man.”
+
+“You underrate--undervalue Edgerton. He has always been a true, generous
+friend of mine.”
+
+“Be it so! with that I have nothing to do. But friendship has its limits
+which it can not pass. Were Edgerton truly your friend, he would advise
+you as I have done. Nay, a proper sense of friendship and of delicacy
+would have kept him from paying that degree of attention to the wife
+which must be an hourly commentary on the neglect of her husband. I
+confess to you it was this very fact that made me resolve to speak to
+you.”
+
+“I thank you, my dear fellow, but I have nothing to fear. Poor Edgerton
+is dying--music and painting are his solace--they minister to his most
+active tastes. As for Julia, she is immaculate.”
+
+“I distrust neither; but you should not throw away your pearl, because
+you think it can not suffer stain.”
+
+“I do not throw it away.”
+
+“You do not sufficiently cherish it.”
+
+“What would you have me do--wear it constantly in my bosom?”
+
+“No! not exactly that; but at least wear nothing else there so
+frequently or so closely as that.”
+
+“I do not. I fancy I am a very good husband. You shall not put me out
+of humor, Kingsley, either with my wife or myself. You shall not make me
+jealous. I am no Othello--I have no visitations of the moon.”
+
+And I laughed--laughed while speaking thus--though the keen pang was
+writhing at that moment like a burning arrow through my brain.
+
+“I have no wish to make you jealous, Clifford, and I very much admire
+your superiority and strength. I congratulate you on your singular
+freedom from this unhappy passion. But you may become too confident. You
+may lose your wife's affections by your neglect, when you might not lose
+them by treachery.”
+
+“You are grown a croaker, Kingsley, and I will leave you. I will go
+home. I will show you what a good husband I am, or can become.”
+
+“That's right; but smoke another cigar before you go.”
+
+“There it is!” I exclaimed, laughingly. “You blow hot and cold. You
+would have me go and stay.”
+
+“Take the cigar, at least, and smoke it as you go. My advice is good,
+and that it is honest you may infer from my reluctance to part with
+you. I will see you at the office at nine in the morning. There is some
+prospect of a compromise with Jeffords about the tract in Dallas, and
+he is to meet Wharton and myself at your law-shop to-morrow. It is
+important to make an arrangement with Jeffords--his example will be felt
+by Brownsell and Gibbon. We may escape a long-winded lawsuit, after all,
+to your great discomfiture and my gain. But you do not hear me!”
+
+“Yes, yes, every word--you spoke of Jeffords, and Wharton, and
+Gibbon--yes, I heard you.”
+
+“Now I know that you did not hear me--not understandingly, at least. I
+should not be surprised if I have made you jealous. You look wild, mon
+ami!”
+
+“Jealous, indeed! what nonsense!” and I prepared to depart when I had
+thus spoken.
+
+“Well, at nine you must meet us at the office. My business must not
+suffer because you are jealous.”
+
+“Come, no more of that, Kingsley!”
+
+“By heavens, you are touched.”
+
+He laughed merrily. I laughed also, but with a choking effort which
+almost cost me a convulsion as I left the tavern. The sport of Kingsley
+was my death. What he had said previously sunk deep into my soul. Not
+rightly--not as it should have sunk--showing me the folly of my own
+course without assuming, as I did, the inevitable wilfulness of the
+course of others; but actually confirming me in my fears--nay, making
+them grow hideous as THINGS and substantive convictions. It seemed to
+me, from what Kingsley said that I was already dishonored--that the
+world already knew my shame; and that he, as my friend, had only
+employed an ambiguous language to soften the sting and the shock which
+his revelations must necessarily occasion. With this new notion, which
+occurred to me after leaving the house, I instantly returned to it. It
+required a strong effort to seem deliberate in what I spoke.
+
+“Kingsley,” I said, “perhaps I did not pay sufficient heed to your
+observations. Do you mean to convey to my mind the idea that people
+think Edgerton too familiar with my wife? Do you mean to say that such a
+notion is abroad? That there is anything wrong?”
+
+“By no means.”
+
+“Ah! then there is nothing in it. I see no reason for suspicion. I am
+not a jealous man; but it becomes necessary when one's neighbors find
+occasion to look into one's business, to look a little into it one's
+self.”
+
+“One must not wait for that,” said Kingsley; “but where is your cigar?”
+
+The question confused me. I had dropped it in the agitation of my
+feelings, without being conscious of its loss.
+
+“Take another,” said he, with a smile, “and let your cares end in smoke
+as you wend homeward. My most profound thoughts come from my cigar.
+To that I look for my philosophy, my friendship, my love--almost my
+religion. A cigar is a brain-comforter, verily. You should smoke more,
+Clifford. You will grow better, wiser--COOLER.”
+
+“I take your cigar and counsel together,” was my reply. “The one shall
+reconcile me to the other. Bon repos!” And so I left him.
+
+I was not likely to have bon repos myself. I was troubled. Kingsley
+suspects me of being jealous. Such an idea was very mortifying. This is
+another weakness of the suspicious nature. It loathes above all things
+to be suspected of jealousy. I hurried home, vexed with my want of
+coolness--doubly vexed at the belief that other eyes than my own were
+witnesses of the attentions of Edgerton to my wife.
+
+I stopped at the entrance of our cottage. HE was there as usual. Mrs.
+Porterfield was not present. The candle was burning dimly. He sat upon
+the sofa. Julia was seated upon chair at a little distance. Her features
+wore an expression of exceeding gravity. His were pale and sad, but his
+eyes burnt with an eager intensity that betrayed the passionate feeling
+in his heart. Thus they sat--she looking partly upon the floor--he
+looking at her. I observed them for more than ten minutes; and in all
+that time I do not believe they exchanged two sentences.
+
+“Surely,” I thought, “this must be a singularly sufficing passion which
+can enjoy itself in this manner without the help of language.”
+
+Of course, this reflection increased the strength of my suspicions. I
+became impatient, and entered the cottage. The eyes of Julia seemed to
+brighten at my appearance, but they were also full of sadness. Edgerton
+soon after rose and took his departure. I believe, if I had stayed
+away till midnight, he would have lingered until that time; but I also
+believe that if I had returned two hours before, he would have gone as
+soon. His passion for the wife seemed to produce an antipathy to the
+husband, quite as naturally as that which grew up in my bosom in regard
+to him. When he was gone, my wife approached me, almost vehemently
+exclaiming--
+
+“Why, why do you leave me thus, Clifford? Surely you can not love me.”
+
+“Indeed I do; but I was with Kingsley. I had business, and did not
+suppose you would miss me.”
+
+“Why suppose otherwise, Edward? I do miss you. I beg that you will not
+leave me thus again.”
+
+“What do you mean? You are singularly earnest, Julia. What has happened?
+What has offended you? Was not Edgerton with you all the evening?”
+
+My questions, coupled with my manner, which has been somewhat excited,
+seemed to alarm her. She replied hurriedly:--
+
+“Nothing has happened! nothing has offended me! But I feel that you
+should not leave me thus. It does not look well. It looks as if you did
+not love me.”
+
+“Ah! but when you KNOW that I do!”
+
+“I do not know it. Oh, show me that you do, Edward. Stay with me as you
+did at first--when we first came here--when we were first married. Then
+we were so--so happy!”
+
+“You would not say that you are not happy now?”
+
+“I am not! I do not see you as I wish--when I wish! You leave me so
+often--leave me to strangers, and seem so indifferent. Oh! Edward, do
+not let me think that you care for me no longer.”
+
+“Strangers! Why, how you talk!--Good old Mrs. Porterfield seems to me
+like my own grandmother, and Edgerton has been my friend---”
+
+Did I really hear her say the single word, “Friend!” and with such
+an accent! The sound was a very slight one--it may have been my fancy
+only;--and she turned away a moment after. What could it mean? I was
+bewildered. I followed her to the chamber. I endeavored to renew the
+subject in such a manner as not to offend her suspicions, but she seemed
+to have taken the alarm. She answered me in monosyllables only, and
+without satisfying the curiosity which that single word, doubtfully
+uttered, had so singularly awakened.
+
+“Only love me--love me, Edward, and keep with me, and I will not
+complain. But if you leave me--if you neglect me--I am desolate!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII.
+
+ACCIDENT AND MORE AGONIES.
+
+
+There was something very unaccountable in all this. I say unaccountable,
+with the distinct understanding that it was unaccountable only to that
+obtuse condition of mind which is produced by the demon of the blind
+heart. My difficulties of judging were only temporary, however. The
+sinister spirit made his whisper conclusive in the end.
+
+“This vehemence,” it suggested, “which is so unwonted with her, is
+evidently unnatural, It--is affected for an object. What is that object?
+It is the ordinary one with persons in the wrong, who always affect one
+extreme of feeling when they would conceal another. She fears that
+you will suspect that she is very well satisfied in your absence;
+accordingly she strives to convince you that she was never so
+dissatisfied. Of course you can not believe that a man so well endowed
+as Edgerton, so graceful, having such fine tastes and accomplishments,
+can prove other than an agreeable companion! What then should be your
+belief?”
+
+There was a devilish ingenuity in this sort of perversion. It had its
+effect. I believed it; and believing it, revolted, with a feeling
+of hate and horror, at the supposed loathsome hypocrisy of that fond
+embrace, and those earnest pleadings, which, in the moment of their
+first display, had seemed so precious to my soul. In the morning, when I
+was setting forth from home, she put her arm on my shoulder:--
+
+“Come home soon. Edward, and let us go together on the hill. Let nobody
+know. Surely we shall be company enough for each other. I will sketch
+you a view of the river while you read Wordsworth to me.”
+
+“Now,” whispered my demon in my ears, “that is ingenious. Let nobody
+know; as if, having a friend in the neighborhood--on a visit--be sick
+and in bad spirits--you should propose to yourself a pleasure trip of
+any kind without inviting him to partake of it? She knows THAT to be
+out of the question, and that you must ask Edgerton if you resolve to go
+yourself.”
+
+Such was the artful suggestion of my familiar. My resolve--still
+recognising the cruel policy by which I had been so long governed--was
+instantly taken. This was to invite Edgerton and Kingsley both.
+
+“I will give them every opportunity. While Kingsley and myself ramble
+together, well leave this devoted pair to their own cogitations, taking
+care, however, to see what comes of them.”
+
+I promised Julia to be home in season, but said nothing of my intention
+to ask the gentlemen. She thanked me with a look and smile, which, had I
+not seen all things through eyes of the most jaundiced green, would have
+seemed to me that of an angel, expressive only of the truest love.
+
+“Ah! could I but believe!” was the bitter self-murmur of my soul, as I
+left the threshold.
+
+On my way through the town I stopped at the postoffice to get letters,
+and received one from Mrs. Delaney--late Clifford--my wife's exemplary
+mother, addressed to Julia. I then proceeded to Edgerton's lodgings.
+He was not yet up, and I saw him in his chamber. His flute lay upon the
+toilet. Seeing it, I recalled, with all its original vexing bitterness,
+the scene which took place the night previous to my departure from my
+late home. And when I looked on Edgerton--saw with what effort he spoke,
+and how timidly he expressed himself--how reluctant were his eyes to
+meet the gaze of mine--his guilt seemed equally fresh and unequivocal. I
+marked him out, involuntarily, as my victim. I felt assured, even while
+conveying to him the complimentary invitation which I bore, that my hand
+was commissioned to do the work of death upon his limbs. Strange and
+fascinating conviction! But I did not contemplate this necessity with
+any pleasure. No! I would have prayed--I did pray--that the task might
+be spared me. If I thought of it at all, it was as the agent of a
+necessity which I could not countervail. The fates had me in their
+keeping. I was the blind instrument obeying the inflexible will, against
+which
+
+     “Reluctant nature strives in vain.”
+
+I felt then, most truly, though I deceived myself, that I had no power,
+though every disposition, to save and to spare. I conveyed my invitation
+as a message from my wife.
+
+“Edgerton, my wife has planned a little ramble for this afternoon. She
+wishes to show you some of the beauties of landscape in our new abode.
+She commissions me to ask you to join us.”
+
+“Ah! did SHE?” he demanded eagerly, with a slight emphasis on the last
+word.
+
+“Ay, did she! Will you come?”
+
+“Certainly--with pleasure!”
+
+He need not have said so much. The pleasure spoke in his bright eyes--in
+the tremulous hurry of his utterance. I turned away from him, lest I
+should betray the angry feeling which disturbed me. He did not seek to
+arrest my departure. He had few words. It was sufficiently evident that
+he shrunk from my glance and trembled in my presence. How far otherwise,
+in the days of our mutual innocence--in our days of boyhood--when his
+face seemed clear like that of a pure, perfect star, shining out in the
+blue serene of night, unconscious of a cloud.
+
+Kingsley was already at my office when I reached it, and soon after came
+Mr. Wharton, followed by two of our opponents. We were engaged with them
+the better part of the morning. When the business hours were consumed,
+our transactions remained unfinished, and another meeting was appointed
+for the ensuing day. I invited Wharton as well as Kingsley to join us
+in our afternoon rambles, which they both promised to do. I went home
+something sooner to make preparations, and only recollected, on seeing
+Julia, that I had thrown the letter from her mother, with other papers,
+into my desk. When I told her of the letter, her countenance changed to
+a death-like paleness which instantly attracted my notice.
+
+“What is the matter--are you sick, Julia!”
+
+“No! nothing. But the letter--where is it?”
+
+“I threw it on my table, or in my desk, with other papers, to have them
+out of the way; and hurrying home sooner than usual, forgot to bring it
+with me. I suppose there's nothing in it of any importance?”
+
+“No, nothing, I suppose,” she answered faintly.
+
+I told her what I had done with respect to our guests.
+
+“I am very sorry,” she answered, “that you have done so. I do not feel
+like company, and wished to have you all to myself.”
+
+“Oh, selfish; but of this I will believe moderately! As for company,
+with the exception of Wharton, they are old friends; and it would not do
+to take a pleasure ramble, with poor Edgerton here, and not make him a
+party.”
+
+There was an earnest intensity of gaze, almost amounting to a painful
+stare, in Julia's eyes, as I said these words. She really seemed
+distressed.
+
+“But really, Edward, our pleasure ramble is not such a one as would
+make it a duty to invite your friends. How difficult it seems for you
+to understand me. Could not we two stroll a piece into the woods without
+having witnesses?”
+
+“Why, is that all? Why then should you have made a formal appointment
+for such a purpose? Could we not have gone as before--without
+premeditation?”
+
+The question puzzled her. She looked anxious. Had she answered with
+sincerity--with truth--and could I have believed her to have been
+sincere, how easy would it have been to have settled our difficulties.
+Had she said--“I really wish to avoid Mr. Edgerton, whose presence
+annoys me--who will be sure to come--when you are sure to be gone--and
+whom I have particular reasons to wish not to meet--not to see.”
+
+This, which might be the truth, she did not dare to speak. She had her
+reasons for her apprehension. This, which was reasonable enough, I
+could not conjecture; for the demon of the blind heart was too busy in
+suggesting other conjectures. It was evident enough that she had secret
+motives for her course, which she did not venture to reveal to me; and
+nothing could be more natural, in the diseased state of my mind,
+than that I should give the worst colorings to these motives in
+the conjectures which I made upon them. We were destined to play at
+cross-purposes much longer, and with more serious issues.
+
+Our friends came, and we set forth in the pleasant part of the
+afternoon. We ascended our hill, and resting awhile upon the summit,
+surveyed the prospect from that position. Then I conducted the party
+through some of our woodland walks, which Julia and myself had explored
+together. But I soon gave up the part of cicerone to Wharton, who was to
+the “MANOR BORN.” He was a native of the neighborhood, boasted that he
+knew every “bosky dell of this wild wood” and certainly conducted us
+to glimpses of prettiest heights, and groves, and far vistas, where the
+light seemed to glide before us in an embodied gray form, that stole
+away, and peeped backward upon us from long allies of the darkest and
+most solemn-sighted pines.
+
+“But there is a finer spot just below us,” he said--“a creek that is
+like no other that I have ever met with in the neighborhood. It is
+formed by the Alabama--is as deep in some places, and so narrow, at
+times, that a spry lad can easily leap across it.”
+
+“Is it far?”
+
+“No--a mile only.”
+
+“But your wife may be fatigued, Clifford?” was the suggestion of
+Kingsley. She certainly looked so; but I answered for her, and
+insisted otherwise. I met her glance as I spoke, but, though she looked
+dissatisfaction, her lips expressed none. I could easily conjecture that
+she felt none. She was walking with Edgerton--and while all eyes watched
+the scenery, he watched her alone. I hurried forward with Kingsley, but
+he immediately fell behind, loitered on very slowly, and left Wharton
+and myself to proceed together. I could comprehend the meaning of this.
+My demon made his suggestion.
+
+“Kingsley suspects them--he sees what you are unwilling to see--he is
+not so willing to leave them together.”
+
+We reached the stream, and wandered along its banks. It had some unusual
+characteristics. It was sometimes a creek, deep and narrow, but clear;
+a few steps farther and it became what, in the speech of the country, is
+called a branch; shallow, purling soft over a sand-bed, limpid yellow,
+and with a playful prattle that put one in mind of the songs of
+thoughtless children, humming idly as they go. The shrubbery along its
+(sic) seemed to follow its changes. Where the bluffs were high, the
+foliage was dense and the trees large. The places where its waters
+shallowed, were only dotted with shrub trees and wild vines, which
+sometimes clambered across the stream and wedded the opposing branches,
+in bonds as hard to break as those of matrimony. The waters were
+sinuous, and therefore slow. They seemed only to glide along, like some
+glittering serpent, who trails at leisure his silvery garments through
+the woods quietly and slow, as if he had no sort of apprehension.
+
+When we had reached a higher spot of bluff than the rest, Wharton, who
+was an active rather than an athletic man, challenged me to follow him.
+He made the leap having little space to spare. I had not done such a
+thing for some years. But my boyhood had been one of daring. The school
+in which I had grown up had given me bodily hardihood and elasticity;
+at all events I could not brook defiance in such a matter, and, with
+moderate effort, succeeded in making a longer stride. I looked back
+at this moment and saw Julia, still closely attended by Edgerton, just
+about emerging into view from a thick copse that skirted the foot of a
+small hill over which our course had brought us. I could not distinguish
+their features. They were, however, close together. Kingsley was on
+their right, a little in advance of them, but still walking slowly. I
+pointed my finger toward a shallow and narrow part of the stream as that
+which they would find it most easy to cross. A tree had been felled
+at the designated point, and just below it, in consequence of the
+obstructions which its limbs presented to the easy passage of the water,
+several sand bars had been made, by which, stepping from one to the
+other, one might cross dryshod even without the aid of the tree.
+Kingsley repeated my signal to those behind him, and led the way. I went
+on with Wharton, without again looking behind me.
+
+But few minutes had elapsed after this, when I heard Julia scream in
+sudden terror. I looked round, but the foliage had thickened behind
+me, and I could no longer see the parties. I bounded backward, with
+no enviable feelings. My apprehensions for my wife's safety made me
+forgetful of my suspicions. I reached the spot in time to discover the
+cause of her alarm.
+
+She was in the midst of the stream, standing upon one of the sandflats,
+steadying herself with difficulty, while she supported the whole form of
+William Edgerton, who lay, seemingly lifeless, and half buried in one of
+the sluices of water which ran between the sandrifts. I had just time
+to see this, and to feel all the pangs of my jealousy renewed, when
+Kingsley rushed into the water to his rescue. He lifted him out to the
+banks as if he had been an infant, and laid him on the shore. I went to
+the relief of Julia, who, trembling like a leaf, fainted in my arms the
+moment she felt herself in safety.
+
+The whole affair was at that time unaccountable to me. It necessarily
+served to increase my pangs. Had I not seen her with my own eyes
+tenderly supporting the fainting frame of the man whom I believed to
+be my rival--whom I believed she loved? Had I not heard her scream of
+terror announcing her interest in his fate--her apprehensions for his
+safety? His danger had made her forgetful of her caution--such was the
+assurance of my demon--and in the fullness of her heart her voice
+found utterance. Besides, how was I to know what endearments--what fond
+pressure of palms--had been passing between them, making them heedless
+of their course, and consequently, making them liable to the accident
+which had occurred. For, it must be remembered, that the general
+impression was that Edgerton's foot had slipped, and, falling into the
+stream while endeavoring to assist Julia, he had nearly pulled her
+in after him. His fainting afterward we ascribed to the same nervous
+weakness which had induced that of Julia. On this head, however,
+Kingsley was better informed. He told me, in a subsequent conversation,
+that he had narrowly observed the parties--that, until the moment before
+he fell, the hands of the two had not met--that then, Edgerton offered
+his to assist my wife over the stream, and scarcely had their fingers
+touched, when Edgerton sank down, like a stone, seemingly lifeless, and
+falling into the water only after he had become insensible.
+
+All was confusion. Mine, however, was not confusion. It was
+commotion--commotion which I yet suppressed--a volcano smothered, but
+smothered only for a time, and ready to break forth with superior fury
+in consequence of the restraint put upon it. This one event, with the
+impressive spectacle of the parties in such close juxtaposition, seemed
+almost to render every previous suspicion conclusive.
+
+Julia was soon recovered; but the swoon of Edgerton was of much longer
+duration. We sprinkled him with water, subjected him to fanning and
+friction, and at length aroused him. His mind seemed to wander at
+his first consciousness--he murmured incoherently. One or two broken
+sentences, however, which he spoke, were not without significance in my
+ears.
+
+“Closer! closer! leave me not now--not yet.”
+
+I bent over him to catch the words. Kingsley, as if he feared the
+utterance of anything more, pushed me away, and addressing Edgerton
+sternly, asked him if he felt pain.
+
+“What hurts you, Mr. Edgerton? Where is your pain?”
+
+The harsh and very loud tones which he employed, had the effect which I
+have no doubt he intended. The other came to complete consciousness in a
+moment.
+
+“Pain!” said he--“no! I feel no pain. I feel feeble only.”
+
+And he strove to rise from the ground as he spoke.
+
+“Do not attempt it,” said Kingsley--“you are not able. Wharton, my good
+fellow, will you run back to town, and bring a carriage?”
+
+“It will not need,” said Edgerton, striving again to rise, and
+staggering up with difficulty.
+
+“It will need. You must not overtask yourself. The walk is a long one
+before us.”
+
+Meantime, Wharton was already on his way. It was a tedious interval
+which followed before his return with the carriage, which found
+considerable difficulty in picking a track through the woods. Julia,
+after recovery, had wandered off about a hundred yards from the
+party. She betrayed no concern--no uneasiness--made no inquiries after
+Edgerton, of whose condition she knew nothing--and, by this very course,
+convinced me that she was conscious of too deep an interest in his fate
+to trust her lips in referring to it. All that she said to me was, that
+“she had been so terrified on seeing him fall, that she did not even
+know that she had screamed.”
+
+“Natural enough!” said my demon. “Had she been able to have controlled
+her utterance, she would have taken precious good care to have
+maintained the silence of the grave. But her feelings were too strong
+for her policy.”
+
+And I took this reasoning for gospel.
+
+The carriage came. Edgerton was put into it, but Julia positively
+refused to ride. She insisted that she was perfectly equal to the walk
+and walk she would. I was pleased with this determination, but not
+willing to appear pleased. I expostulated with her even angrily, but
+found her incorrigible. Chagrin and disappointment were obvious enough
+on the face of William Edgerton.
+
+I took my seat beside him, and left Kingsley and Wharton to escort my
+wife home. We had scarcely got in motion before a rash determination
+seized my mind.
+
+“You must go home with me, Edgerton. It will not do, while you are in
+this feeble state, to remain at a public tavern.”
+
+He said something very faintly about crowding and inconveniencing us.
+
+“Pshaw--room enough--and Julia can be your nurse.”
+
+His eyes closed, he sunk back in the carriage, and a deep sigh escaped
+him. I fancied that he had a second time fainted; but I soon discovered
+that his faintness was simply the sudden sense of an overcoming
+pleasure. I knit my teeth spasmodically together; I cursed him in
+the bitterness of my heart, but said nothing. It was a feeling of
+desperation that had prompted the rash resolution which I had taken.
+
+“At least,” I muttered to myself, “it will bring these damning doubts
+to a final trial. If they have been fools heretofore, opportunity will
+serve to madden them. We shall see--we shall know all very soon;--and
+then!--”
+
+Ay, then!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+THE DAMNING LETTER.
+
+
+Mrs Porterfield, good old lady, half blind, half deaf, infirm and gouty,
+but very good natured, easily complied with my request to accommodate
+my friend. My friend!--She soon put one of her bed-rooms in order, and
+Edgerton was in quiet possession of it sometime before the pedestrians
+came home. When my wife was told of what I had done, she was perfectly
+aghast. Her air of chagrin was well put on and excellently worn. But she
+said nothing. Kingsley wore a face of unusual gravity.
+
+“You are either the most wilful or the most indifferent husband in
+the world,” was his whispered remark to me as he bade me good night,
+refusing to remain for supper.
+
+I said something to my wife about tending Edgerton--seeing to his
+wants--nursing him if he remained unwell, and so forth She looked at me
+with a face of intense sadness, but made no reply.
+
+“She is too happy for speech,” said my demon; “and such faces are easily
+made for such an occasion.”
+
+I went in to Edgerton after a brief space; I found him feeble,
+complaining of chill. His hands felt feverish. I advised quiet and sent
+off for a physician. I sat with him until the physician came, but I
+observed that my presence seemed irksome to him. He answered me in
+monosyllables only; his eyes, meanwhile, being averted, his countenance
+that of one excessively weary and impatient for release. The physician
+prescribed and left him, as I did myself. I thought he needed repose and
+desired to be alone. To my great surprise he followed me in less than
+half an hour into the supper-room, where he stubbornly sat out the
+evening. He refused to take the physic prescribed for him and really
+did not now appear to need it. His eyes were lighted up with unusual
+animation, his cheeks had an improved color, and without engaging very
+actively in the conversation, what he said was said with a degree of
+spirit quite uncommon with him during the latter days of our intimacy.
+
+Mr. Wharton spent the evening with us, and the ball of talk was chiefly
+sustained by him and myself. My wife said little, nothing save when
+spoken to, and wore a countenance of greater gravity than ever. It
+seemed that Edgerton made some effort to avoid any particularity in
+his manner, yet seldom did I turn my eyes without detecting his in keen
+examination of my wife's countenance. At such times, his glance usually
+fell to the ground, but toward the close of evening, he almost seemed to
+despise observation, or--which was more probable--was not conscious of
+it--for his gaze became fixed with a religious earnestness, which no
+look of mine could possibly divert or unfix. He solicited my wife
+to play on the guitar, but she declined, until requested by Mrs.
+Porterfield, when she took up the instrument passively, and sung to it
+one of those ordinary negro-songs which are now so shockingly popular.
+I was surprised at this, for I well knew that she heartily detested the
+taste and spirit in which such things were conceived. Under the tuition
+of my demon, I immediately assumed this to be another proof of the
+decline of her delicacy. And yet, though I did not think of this at the
+time, she might have employed the coarse effusion simply as an antidote
+against the predominance of a morbid sentimentalism. There is a moment
+in the history of the heart's suffering, when the smallest utterance of
+the lips, or movement of the form, or expression of the eye, is prompted
+by some prevailing policy--some motive which the excited sensibilities
+deem of importance to their desires.
+
+She retired soon. Her departure was followed by that of Edgerton first,
+and next of Wharton. Mrs. Porterfield had already gone. I was alone at
+the entrance of our cottage. Not alone! My demon was with me--suggestive
+of his pangs as ever--full of subtlety, and filling me with the darkest
+imaginings. The destroyer of my peace was in my dwelling. My wife may or
+may not be innocent. Happy for her if she is, but how can that be known?
+It mattered little to me in the excited mood which possessed me. Let any
+man fancy, as I did, that one, partaking of his hospitality, lying in
+the chamber which adjoined his own, yet meditated the last injury in the
+power of man to inflict against the peace and honor of his protector.
+Let him fancy this, and then ask what would be his own feelings--what
+his course?
+
+Still, there is a sentiment of justice which is natural to every bosom
+with whom education has not been utter perversion. I believed much
+against Edgerton; I suspected my wife; I had seen much to offend
+my affections; much to alarm my fears; yet I KNEW nothing which was
+conclusive. That last event, the occurrence of the afternoon, seemed to
+prove not that the two were guilty, but that my wife loved the man who
+meditated guilt. This belief, doubtful so long, and against which I had
+really striven, seemed now to be concluded. I had heard her scream;
+I had seen her tenderly sustaining his form; I had felt her emotions,
+when, the danger being over, her feminine nature gained the ascendancy
+and she fainted in my arms. I could no longer doubt, that if she was
+still pure in mind, she was no longer insensible to a passion which must
+lessen that purity with every added moment of its permitted exercise.
+Still, even with this conviction, something more was necessary to
+justify me in what I designed. There must be no doubt. I must see. I
+must have sufficient proof, for, as my vengeance shall be unsparing, my
+provocation must be complete. That it might be so I had brought Edgerton
+into the house. Something more was necessary. Time and opportunity must
+be allowed him. This I insisted on, though, more than once, as I walked
+under the dark whispering groves which girdled our cottage, and caught
+a glimpse of the light in Edgerton's chamber, my demon urged me to go
+in and strangle him. I had strength to resist this suggestion, but the
+struggle was a long one.
+
+I did not soon retire to rest. When I did, I still remained sleepless.
+But Julia slept. In her sleep she threw herself on my bosom, and seemed
+to cling about and clasp me as if with some fear of separation. Had I
+not fancied that this close embrace was meant for another than myself,
+I had been more indulgent to the occasional moanings of distress that
+escaped her lips. But, thinking as I did, I forced her from me, and in
+doing so she wakened.
+
+“Edward,” she exclaimed on wakening, “is it you?”
+
+“Who should it be?” I demanded--all my suspicions renewed by her
+question.
+
+“I am so glad. I have had such a dream. Oh! Edward, I dreamed that you
+were killing me!”
+
+“Ha! what could have occasioned such a dream?”
+
+My demon suggested, at this moment, that her dream had been occasioned
+by a consciousness of what her guilty fancies deserved. But she replied
+promptly:--
+
+“Nay, I know not. It was the strangest fancy. I thought that you pursued
+me along the river--that my foot slipped and I fell among the bushes,
+where you caught me, and it was just when you were strangling me that I
+wakened.”
+
+“Your dream was occasioned by the affair of the afternoon. Was nobody
+present but ourselves?”
+
+“Yes--there was a man at a little distance beyond us, and he seemed to
+be running from you also.”
+
+“A man! who was he?”
+
+“I don't know exactly--his back was turned, but it seemed as if it was
+Mr. Edgerton.”
+
+“Ha! Mr. Edgerton!”
+
+A deep silence followed. She had spoken her reply firmly, but so slowly
+as to convince me of the mental reluctance which she felt in uttering
+this part of the dream. When the imagination is excited, how small are
+the events that confirm its ascendency, and stimulate its progress. This
+dream seemed to me as significant as any of the signs that informed the
+ancient augurs. It bore me irresistibly forward in the direction of
+my previous thoughts. I began to see the path--dark, dismal--perhaps
+bloody--which lay before me. I began to feel the deed, already in my
+soul, which destiny was about to require me to perform. A crime, half
+meditated, is already half committed. This is the danger of brooding
+upon the precipice of evil thoughts. A moment's dizziness--a single
+plunge--and all is over!
+
+I doubt whether Julia slept much the remainder of the night. I know that
+I did not. She had her consciousness as well as mine. THAT I now know.
+The question--“was her consciousness a guilty one?” That was the only
+question which remained for me!
+
+The next morning I saw Edgerton. He looked quite as well as on the
+previous night, but professed to feel otherwise--declined coming forth
+to breakfast and begged me to send the physician to him on my way to the
+office. I immediately conjectured that this was mere practice, for he
+had not taken the medicine which had been prescribed.
+
+“He must keep sick to keep HERE,” said my demon. “He can have no
+pretext, otherwise, to stay!”
+
+When I was about to leave the house Julia followed me to the door.
+
+“Don't forget to bring mother's letter with you,” was her parting
+direction. I had not been half an hour at the office before a little
+servant-girl, who tended in the house, came to me with a message from
+her, requesting that the letter might be sent by her.
+
+This earnestness struck me with surprise. I remembered the expression
+in my wife's face the day before when I told her the letter had been
+received, I now recalled to mind the fact, that, on no occasion, had she
+ever shown me any of her mother's letters; though nothing surely would
+have seemed more natural, as she knew how keen was my anxiety to hear at
+all times from the old maternal city.
+
+My suspicions began to warm, and I resolved upon another act of baseness
+in obedience to the counsel of my evil spirit. I pretended to look
+awhile for the letter, but finally dismissed the girl, saying that I had
+mislaid it, but would bring it home with me when I came to dinner. The
+moment she had gone I examined this precious document. It was sealed
+with one of those gum wafers which are stuck on the outside of the
+envelope. In turning it over, as if everything was prepared to gratify
+my wish, I discovered that one section of the wafer had nearly parted
+from the paper. To the upper section of the fold it adhered closely. To
+the lower it was scarcely attached at all, and seemed never to have been
+as well fastened as the upper.
+
+The temptation was irresistible. A very slight effort enabled me to
+complete the separation without soiling the paper or fracturing the
+seal. This was all done within my desk, the leaf of the desk being
+raised and resting upon my head. In this position I could easily close
+the desk, in the event of any intrusion, without suffering the intruder
+to see in what I had been engaged. Thus guarded I proceeded to read the
+precious epistle, which I found very much what I should have expected
+from such a woman. It said a great deal about her neighbors and
+her neighbors' dresses; and how her dear Delaney was sometimes
+“obstropolous,” though in the end a mighty good man; and much more over
+which I hurried with all the rapidity of disgust. But there was matter
+that made me linger. One or two sentences thrown into the postscript
+contained a volume. I read, with lifted hair and a convulsed bosom, the
+following passage:--
+
+“Delaney tells me that Bill Edgerton has gone to travel. He says to
+Tennessee. But I know better. I know he can't keep from you, let him try
+his best. But be on your guard, Julia. Don't let him get too free. Your
+husband's a jealous man, and if he was once to dream of the truth, he'd
+just as leave shoot him as look at him. I thought at one time he'd have
+guessed the truth before. So far you've played your cards nicely, but
+that was when I was by you, to tell you how. I feel quite ticklish when
+I think of you, and remember you've got nobody now to consult with.
+All I can say is, keep close. It would be the most terrible thing if
+Clifford should find out or even suspect. He wouldn't spare either of
+you. It's better for a woman in this country to drag on and be wretched,
+than to expose herself to shame, for no one cares for her after that. Be
+sure and burn this the moment you've read it. I would not have it seen
+for the world. I only write it as a matter of duty, for I can't forget
+that I'm your mother, though I must say, Julia, there were times when
+you have not acted the part of a daughter.”
+
+Precious, voluminous postscript! Considerate mother! “Be on your guard,
+Julia. Don't let him get too free!” Prudent, motherly counsel! “You've
+played your cards nicely.” Nice lady! “I feel quite ticklish!” Elegant
+sensibilities!
+
+Enough! The evil was done. Here was another piece of damning testimony,
+indirect but conclusive, to show that I was bedevilled. I refolded the
+letter, but I could not place my lips to the wafer. The very letter
+seemed to breathe of poison. Faugh! I put it from me, went to the basin,
+and wetting the end of my finger, sufficiently softened the gum to make
+it more effectually fasten the letter than when I had received it. This
+done, I proceeded to the business of the day with what appetite was left
+me.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV.
+
+VERGE OF THE PRECIPICE.
+
+
+I do not know how I got through with the business of that day. Even
+in my weakness I was possessed of a singular degree of strength. I saw
+Kingsley, Wharton, and all of the parties whom we met the day before.
+We came to a final decision on the subject of Kingsley's claims; I took
+down the heads of several papers which were to be drawn up; the terms
+of sale and transfer, bounds and characteristics of the land to be
+conveyed; and engaged in the discussion of the various topics which
+were involved in these transactions, with as keen a sense of business, I
+suspect, as any among them. The habit of suppressing my feelings availed
+me sufficiently under the present circumstances. Kingsley said nothing
+on the subject of yesterday's adventure, nor was I in the mood to refer
+to it. With some effort I was cheerful; spoke freely of indifferent
+topics, and pleased myself with the idea of my own firmness, while
+persuading my hearers of my good humor and my legal ability. I do not
+deny that I paid for these proofs of stoicism. Who does not? There is
+no such thing as suppressing passions which are already in action--at
+least, there is no such thing as suppressing them long. If the summer
+tempest keeps off to-day it will come to-morrow, and its force and
+volume is always in due proportion to the delay in its utterance.
+The solitudes of the forest heard my groans and agonies when man did
+not--and the venom which I kept from my lips, overflowed and poisoned
+the very sources of life and happiness within my heart.
+
+I gave the letter to Julia without a word. She did not look at me while
+extending the hand to receive it, and hurried to her chamber without
+breaking the seal. I watched her departing form with a vague, painful
+emotion of inquiry, such as would possess the bosom of one, looking on
+a dear object, with whom he felt that a disruption was hourly threatened
+of every earthly tie. That day she ate no dinner. Her brow was clouded
+throughout the meal. Edgerton was present, seemingly as well as at his
+first arrival. I had learned casually from Mrs. Porterfield that he had
+been in our little parlor all the morning; while another remark from the
+good old lady gave me a new idea of the employment of my wife.
+
+“This writing,” said she, addressing the latter, “does your eyes no
+good. Indeed they look as if you had been crying over your task.”
+
+“What writing?” I asked, looking at Julia, She blushed, but said
+nothing, and the blush passed off, leaving the sadness more distinct
+than ever.
+
+“Oh, she has been writing whole sheets for the last two mornings. I
+went in this morning to bring her out to assist me in entertaining
+Mr. Edgerton, who looked so lonesome; and I do assure you I thought at
+first, from the quantity of writing, that you had given her some of your
+law-papers to do. The table was covered with it.”
+
+“Indeed!” said I--“this must be looked into. It will not do for the
+wife to take the husband's business from him. It looks mischievous, Mrs.
+Porterfield--there's something wrong about it.”
+
+“Indeed there must be, Mr. Clifford, for only see how very sad it makes
+her. I declare, she looks this last few weeks like a very different
+woman. She does nothing now but mope. When she first came here she
+seemed to me so cheerful and happy.”
+
+All this was so much additional wormwood to my bitter. The change in
+Julia, which had even struck this blind old lady, corresponded exactly
+with the date of Edgerton's arrival. When I saw the earnest tenderness
+in his countenance as he watched her, while Mrs. Porterfield was
+speaking, I ceased to feel any sympathy for the intense sadness which I
+yet could not but see in hers. I turned away, and leaving the table soon
+after, went to our chamber, but the traces of writing were no longer to
+be seen. The voluminous manuscripts had all been carefully removed. I
+was about to leave the chamber when Julia met me at the door.
+
+“Come back; sit with me,” she said. “Why do you go off in such a hurry
+always? Once it was not so, Edward.”
+
+“What! are you for the honeymoon again?”
+
+“Do not smile so, and speak so irreverently!” she said, with a
+reproachful earnestness that certainly seemed to me very strange,
+thinking of her as I did. My evil spirit was silent. He lacked readiness
+to account for it. But he was not unadroit, and moved me to change the
+ground.
+
+“But what long writing is this, Julia?”
+
+“Ah! you are curious?”
+
+“Scarcely.”
+
+“TELL me that you are?”
+
+“What! at the expense of truth?”
+
+“No! but to gratify my desire. I hoped you were; but, curious or not, it
+is for you.”
+
+“Let me see it, then.”
+
+“Not yet; it is not ready.”
+
+“What! shall there be more of it?”
+
+“Yes, a good deal.”
+
+“Indeed! but why take this labor? Why not tell me what you have to say?”
+
+“I wish I could, but I can not. You do not encourage me.”
+
+“What encouragement do you wish to speak to your husband?”
+
+“Oh, much! Stay with me, dear husband.”
+
+“That will keep you from your writing.”
+
+“Ah! perhaps it will render it unnecessary.”
+
+“At all events it will keep me from mine;” and I prepared to go. She
+put her hand upon my shoulder--looked into my eyes pleadingly--hers were
+dewy wet--and spoke:--
+
+“Do not go-stay with me dear husband, do stay. Stay only for half an
+hour.”
+
+Why did I not stay? I should ask that question of myself in vain. When
+the heart grows perverse, it acquires a taste for wilfulness. I, myself,
+longed to stay; could I have been persuaded that she certainly desired
+it, I should have found my sweetest pleasure in remaining. But there was
+the rub--that doubt! all that she said, looked, did, seemed, through the
+medium of the blind heart, to be fraudulent.
+
+“She would disguise her anxiety, that you should be gone. Leave her, and
+in twenty minutes she and Edgerton will be together.”
+
+Such was the whisper of my demon. I did leave her. I went forth for an
+hour into the woods--returned suddenly and found them together! They
+were playing chess, Mrs. Porterfield, with all her spectacles, watching
+the game. I did not ask, and did not know, till afterward, that the
+express solicitation of the old lady had drawn her from her chamber, and
+placed her at the table. The conjecture of the evil spirit proved so
+far correct, and this increased my confidence in his whispers. Alas! how
+readily do we yield our faith to the spirit of hate! how slow to believe
+the pure and gentle assurances of love!
+
+Three days passed after this fashion. Edgerton no longer expressed
+indisposition, yet he made no offer to depart. I took care that neither
+word nor action should remind him of his trespass. I gave the parties
+every opportunity, and exhibited the manner of an indifference which was
+free from all disquiet--all suspicion. The sadness, meanwhile, increased
+upon the countenance of Julia. She gazed at me in particular with a look
+of earnestness amounting to distress. This I ascribed to the strength
+of her passions. There was even at moments a harshness in her tones when
+addressing me now, which was unusual to her. I found some reason for
+this, equally unfavorable to her fidelity. After dinner I said to
+Edgerton:--
+
+“You are scarcely strong enough for a bout at the bottle. I take wine
+with Kingsley this afternoon. He has commissioned me to ask you.”
+
+“I dare not venture, but that should not keep you away.”
+
+“It will not,” I said indifferently.
+
+“Thank him for me, if you please, but tell him it will not do for one so
+much an invalid as myself.”
+
+“Very good!” and I left him, and joined Kingsley. The business of this
+friend being now in a fair train for final adjustment, he was preparing
+for his return to Texas. He had not been at my lodgings since Edgerton's
+arrival in M--, but we had seen each other, nevertheless, almost
+every day at his or at my office. Our afternoon was rather merry than
+cheerful. Heaven knows I was in no mood to be a bon compagnon, but I
+took sufficient pains that Kingsley should not suspect I had any reasons
+for being otherwise. I had my jest--I emptied my bottle--I said my good
+things, and seemed to say them without effort. Kingsley, always cheerful
+and strong-minded, was in his best vein, and mingling wit and reflection
+happily together, maintained the ball of conversation with equal ease
+and felicity. He had the happy knack of saying happy things quietly--of
+waiting for, and returning the ball, without running after it. At
+another time, I should have been content simply to have provoked him.
+Now, I was quite too miserable not to seek employment; and to disguise
+feelings, which I should have been ashamed to expose, I contrived to
+take the lead and almost grew voluble in the frequency of my utterance.
+Perhaps, if Kingsley failed in any respect as a philosopher, it was
+in forbearing to look with sufficient keenness of observation into
+the heart of his neighbor. He evidently did not see into mine. He was
+deceived by my manner. He credited all my fun to good faith, and gravely
+pronounced me to be a fortunate fellow.
+
+“How?” I demanded with a momentary cessation of the jest. His gravity
+and--to me--the strange error in such an observation--excited my
+curiosity.
+
+“In your freedom from jealousy.”
+
+“Oh! that, eh? But why should I be jealous?'
+
+“It is not exactly why a man should be jealous--but why, knowing what
+men are, usually, that you are not. Nine men in ten would be so under
+your circumstances?”
+
+“How, what circumstances?”
+
+“With Edgerton in your house--evidently fond of your wife, you leave
+them utterly to themselves. You bring him into your house unnecessarily,
+and give him every opportunity. I still think you risk everything
+imprudently. You may pay for it.”
+
+I felt a strange sickness at my heart. I felt that the flame was
+beginning to boil up within me. The perilous turning-point of
+passion--the crisis of strength and endurance--was at hand My eyes
+settled gloomily upon the table. I was silent longer than usual. I felt
+THAT, and looked up. The keen glance of Kingsley was upon me. It
+would not do to suffer him to read my feelings. I replied with some
+precipitation:--
+
+“I see, Kingsley, you are not cared of your prejudices against
+Edgerton.”
+
+“I am not--I have seen nothing to cure me. But my prejudice against him,
+has nothing to do with my opinion of your prudence. Were it any other
+man, the case would be the same.”
+
+“Well, but I do not think it so clear that Edgerton loves my wife more
+than is natural and proper.”
+
+“Of the naturalness of his love I say nothing--perhaps, nothing could
+be more natural. But that he does love her, and loves her as no married
+woman should be loved, by another than her husband, is clear enough.”
+
+“Suppose, then, it be as you say! So long as he does nothing improperly,
+there is nothing to be said. There is no evil.”
+
+“Ah, but there is evil. There is danger.”
+
+“How? I do not see.”
+
+“Suppose your wife makes the same discovery which other persons have
+made? Suppose she finds out that Edgerton loves her?”
+
+“Well--what then?”
+
+“She can not remain uninfluenced by it. It will affect her feelings
+sensibly in some way. No creature in the world can remain insensible to
+the attachment of another.”
+
+“Indeed! Why, agreeable to that doctrine, there could be no security
+from principle. There could be no virtue certain--nay, not even love.”
+
+“Do not mistake me. When I say SHE would be influenced--I do not mean to
+say that she would be so influenced as to requite the illicit sentiment.
+Far from it. But she must pity or she must scorn. She may despise or she
+may deplore. In either case her feelings would be aroused, and in either
+case would produce uneasiness if not unhappiness. I KNOW, Clifford, that
+your wife perceives the passion of Edgerton--I am confident, also, that
+it has influenced her feelings. What may be the sentiment produced by
+this influence I do not pretend to say. I would not insinuate that it is
+more than would be natural to the breast of any virtuous woman. She may
+pity or she may scorn--she may despise or she may deplore. I know not.
+But, in either case, I regard your bringing Edgerton into the house and
+conferring upon him so many opportunities, as being calculated either
+to make yourself or your wife miserable. In either event you have done
+wrong. Look to it--remedy it as soon as you can.”
+
+My face burned like fire. My eyes were fixed upon the table. I dared not
+look upon my companion. When I spoke, I felt a choking difficulty in my
+utterance which compelled me to speak loud to be understood, and which
+yet left my speech thick, husky, and unnatural.
+
+“Say no more, Kingsley. What you have said disturbs me Nay, I
+acknowledge, I have been disturbed before. Perhaps, indeed, I know more
+than yourself. Time will show. At all events, be sure of one thing.
+These opportunities, if what you say be true, afford an ordeal through
+which it is necessary that the parties should now go--if it be only to
+afford the necessary degree of relief to my mind. Enough has been seen
+to excite suspicion--enough has been done, you yourself think, to awaken
+the feelings of my wife. Those feelings must now be tried. Opportunity
+will do this. She must go through the trial. I am not blind as you
+suppose. Nay, I am watchful, and I tell you, Kingsley, that the time
+approaches when all my doubts must cease one way or the other.”
+
+“But I still think, Clifford--” he began.
+
+“No more, Kingsley. I tell you, matters must go on. Edgerton can now
+only be driven from my house by my wife. If she expels him, I shall be
+too happy not to forgive him. But if she makes it necessary that the
+expulsion shall be effected by my hands, and with violence--God have
+mercy upon both of them for I shall not. Good night!”
+
+“But why will you go? Stay awhile longer. Be not rash--do nothing
+precipitately, Clifford.”
+
+I smiled bitterly in replying:--
+
+“You need not fear me. Have I not proved myself patient--patient until
+you pronounced me cold and indifferent? Why should you suppose that,
+having waited and forborne so long I should be guilty of rashness now?
+No, Kingsley! My wife is very dear to me--how dear I will not say;
+I will be deliberate for her sake--for my own. I will be sure, very
+sure--quite sure;--but, once sure!--Good night.”
+
+Kingsley followed me to the door. His last injunctions exhorted me
+to forbearance and deliberation. I silenced them by a significant
+repetition of the single words, “Good night--good night!” and hurried,
+with every feeling of anxiety and jealousy awakened, in the direction of
+my cottage.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI.
+
+THE UNBRIDLED MADNESS.
+
+
+The night did not promise to be a good one. The clouds were scudding
+wildly from east to west. The air was moist and chill. There was no
+light from moon or stars, and I strode with difficulty, though still
+rapidly, through the unpaved streets. I was singularly and painfully
+excited by the conversation with Kingsley. My own experience before,
+had prepared me to become so, with the slightest additional provocation.
+Facts were rapidly accumulating to confirm my fears, and lessen my
+doubts. That dark, meaning letter of Mrs. Delaney! The adventure in the
+streamlet.--The scream--the look--the secrecy! What a history seemed to
+be compressed in these few topics.
+
+I hurried forward--I was now among the trees. I had almost to grope my
+way, it was so dark. I was helped forward by some governing instincts.
+My fiend was busy all the while. I fancied, now, that there was
+something exulting in his tone. But he drove me forward without
+forbearance. I felt that these clouds in the sky--this gloom and
+excitement in my heart--were not for nothing. Every gust of wind brought
+to me some whisper of fear; and there seemed a constant murmur among the
+trees--one burden--whose incessant utterance was only shame and wo. How
+completely the agony of one's spirit sheds its tone of horror upon the
+surrounding world. How the flowers wither as our hearts wither--how
+sickly grows sunlight and moonlight, in our despair--how lonely and
+utter sad is the breath of winds, when our bosoms are about to be laid
+bare of hope and sustenance by the brooding tempest of our sorrows.
+
+I had a terrible prescience of some dreadful experience which awaited me
+as I drove forward. Obstructions of tree and shrub, and tangled vines,
+encountered me, but did not long arrest, and I really felt them not. I
+put them aside without a consciousness.
+
+At length a glimmering light informed me I was near the cottage. I could
+see the heavy dark masses of foliage that crowded before the entrance.
+The light was in the parlor. There was also one in the room of Mrs.
+Porterfield. Ours, which was on the same floor with hers, was in
+darkness. I never experienced sensations more like those of a drunken
+man than when, working my way cautiously among the trees, I approached
+the window. The glasses were down, possibly in consequence of the
+violence of the gust. But there was one thing unusual. The curtains were
+also down at both windows. These curtains were half-curtains only. They
+fell from the upper edge of the lower sash, and were simply meant to
+protect the inmates from the casual glance of persons in front. The
+house was on an elevation of two or three feet from the ground. It was
+impossible to see into the apartment unless I could raise myself at
+least that much above my own stature. I looked around me for a stump,
+bench, block--anything; but there was nothing, or in the darkness I
+failed to find it. To clamber up against the side of the house would
+have disturbed the inmates. I ascended a tree, and buried within its
+leaves, looked directly into the apartment.
+
+They were together! alone!--at the eternal chess! Julia sat upon the
+sofa. Edgerton in front of her. A small table stood between them. I had
+arrived at an opportune moment. Julia's hand was extended to the board.
+I saw the very piece it rested upon. It was the white queen; but, just
+at that moment--nothing could be more clearly visible--the hand of
+Edgerton was laid upon hers. She instantly withdrew it, and looked
+upward. Her face was the color of carnation--flushed--so said my demon,
+with the overwhelming passions in her breast. The next moment the table
+was thrust aside--the chess-men tumbled upon the floor, and Edgerton
+kneeling before my wife had grasped her about the waist, and was
+dragging her to his knee.
+
+I saw no more. A sudden darkness passed over my eyes. A keen, quick,
+thrilling pang went through my whole frame, and I fell from the tree,
+upon the earth below, in utter unconsciousness.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII.
+
+FATAL SILENCE.
+
+
+Strange and cruel destiny! When everything depended upon my firmness, I
+was overwhelmed by feebleness. It seemed as if I had not before believed
+that this terrible moment of confirmation would come. And yet, if
+anybody could have been prepared for such a discovery, I should
+have been. I had brooded over it for months. A thousand times had my
+imagination pictured it to me in the most vivid and fearful aspect.
+I fancied that I should have been steeled by conviction against every
+other feeling but that of vengeance. But in reality, my hope was so
+sanguine, my love for Julia so fervent, I did not, amidst all my fears,
+really believe that such a thing could ever prove true. All my boasted
+planning and preparation, and espionage, had only deceived myself.
+I believed, at worst, that Julia might be brought to love William
+Edgerton,--but that he would presume to give utterance to his love, and
+that she would submit to listen, was not truly within my belief. I had
+not been prepared for this, however much, in my last interview with
+Kingsley, I had professed myself to be.
+
+But had she submitted? That was still a question. I had seen nothing
+beyond what I have stated. His audacious hand had rested upon hers--his
+impious arm had encircled her waist, and then my blindness and darkness
+followed. I was struck as completely senseless, and fell from the tree
+with as little seeming life, as if a sudden bullet had traversed my
+heart.
+
+In this state I lay. How long I know not--it must have been for
+several hours. I was brought to consciousness by a sense of cold. I
+was benumbed--a steady rain was falling, and from the condition of my
+clothes, which were completely saturated, must have been falling for
+some time previous. I rose with pain and difficulty to my feet. I
+was still as one stunned and stupified, by one of those extremes of
+suffering for which the overcharged heart can find no sufficient or
+sufficiently rapid method of relief. When I rose, the light was no
+longer in the parlor. The parties were withdrawn.
+
+Horrible thought! That I should have failed at that trying moment. I
+knew everything--I knew nothing. It was still possible that Julia had
+repulsed him. I had seen HIS audacity only--was it followed by HER
+guilt? How shall that be known? I could answer this question as Kingsley
+would have answered it.
+
+“If your wife be honest, she must now reveal the truth. She can no
+longer forbear. The proceeding of Edgerton has been too decided, and she
+shares his guilt if she longer keeps it secret. The wife who submits to
+this form of insult, without seeking protection where alone it may be
+found, clearly shows that the offence is grateful to her--that she deems
+it no insult.”
+
+That, then, shall be the test! So I determined. Edgerton must be
+punished. There is no escape. But for her--if she does not seek
+the earliest occasion to reveal the truth, she is guilty beyond
+doubt--doomed beyond redemption.
+
+I entered the house with difficulty. I was as feeble as if I had been
+under the hands of the physician for weeks. A light was burning on
+the staircase. I took it and went into the parlor, which I narrowly
+examined. There were no remaining proofs of the late disorder. The table
+was set against the wall. The chess-men were all gathered up, and neatly
+put away in the box, which stood upon the mantel.
+
+“There is proof of coolness and deliberation here!” I muttered to
+myself, as I took my way up-stairs. When I entered my chamber, I felt a
+pang, the fore-runner of a spasm. I had been for several years afflicted
+with these spasms, in great or small degree. They marked every singular
+mental excitement under which I labored. It was no doubt one of these
+spasms which had seized and overpowered me while I sat within the tree.
+Never before had I suffered from one so severe; but the violence of
+this was naturally due to the extreme of agony--as sudden as it was
+terrible--which seized upon my soul. My physician had provided me with a
+remedy against these attacks to which I was accustomed to resort. This,
+though a potent remedy, was also a potent poison. It was a medicine
+called the hydrocyanic or prussic acid. Five minims was a dose, but two
+drops were death. I went to the medicine-case which stood beneath the
+head of the bed, with the view to getting out the vial; but my wife
+started up eagerly as I approached, and with trembling accents, demanded
+what was the matter. She saw me covered with mud and soaking with water.
+I told her that I had got wet coming homeward and had slipped down the
+hill.
+
+“Why did you stay so late--why not come home sooner, dear husband?”
+
+“Hypocrite!” I muttered while stooping down for the chest.
+
+“You are sick--you have your spasms!” she now said, rising from the
+bed and offering to measure the medicine. This she had repeatedly done
+before; but I was not now willing to trust her. Doubts of her fidelity
+led to other doubts.
+
+“If she is prepared to dishonor, she is prepared to destroy you!” said
+my familiar.
+
+This suggestion seized upon my brain, and while I measured out the
+minims, the busy fiend reminded me that I grasped the bane as well
+as the antidote in my hand. A stern, a terrible image of retributive
+justice presented itself before my thoughts. The feeling of an awful
+necessity grew strong within me. “Shall the adulterer alone perish?
+Shall the adultress escape?” The fiend answered with tremulous but stern
+passion--“She shall surely die!”
+
+“If she reveals not the truth in season,” I said in my secret soul; “if
+she claims not protection at my hands against the adulterer, she shall
+share his fate!” and with this resolve, even at the moment when I was
+measuring the antidote for myself, I resolved that the same vial should
+furnish the bane for her!
+
+The medicine relieved me, though not with the same promptness as usual.
+I looked at the watch and found it two o'clock. My wife begged me to
+come to bed, but that was impossible. I proceeded to change my garments.
+By the time that I had finished, the rain ceased, the stars came out,
+the morning promised to be clear. I determined to set forth from
+my office. I had no particular purpose; but I felt that I could not
+meditate where she was. She continually spoke to me--always tenderly and
+with great earnestness. I pleaded my spasms as a reason for not lying
+down. But I lingered. I was as unwilling to go as to stay. I longed to
+hear her narrative; and, once or twice, I fancied that she wished to
+tell me something. But she did not. I waited till near daylight, in
+order that she should have every opportunity, but she said little beyond
+making professions of love, and imploring me to come to bed.
+
+In sheer despair, at last, I went out, taking my pistol-case,
+unperceived by her, under my arm. I went to my office where I locked
+it up. There I seated myself, brooding in a very whirlwind of thought,
+until after daylight.
+
+When the sun had risen, I went to a man in the neighborhood who hired
+out vehicles. I ordered a close carriage to be at my door by a certain
+hour, immediately after breakfast. I then despatched a note to Kingsley,
+saying briefly that Edgerton and myself would call for him at nine. I
+then returned home. My wife had arisen, but had not left the chamber.
+She pleaded headache and indisposition, and declined coming out
+to breakfast. She seemed very sad and unhappy, not to say greatly
+disquieted--appearances which I naturally attributed to guilt.
+For--still she said nothing. I lingered near her on various small
+pretences in the hope to hear her speak. I even made several approaches
+which, I fancied, might tend to provoke the wished-for revelation.
+Indeed, it was wished for as ardently as ever soul wished for the
+permission to live--prayed for as sincerely as the dying man prays for
+respite, and the temporary remission of his doom.
+
+In vain! My wife said little, and nothing to the purpose. The moments
+became seriously short. Could she have anything to say? Was it possible
+that, being innocent, she should still lock up the guilty secret in
+her bosom? She could not be innocent to do so! This conclusion seemed
+inevitable. In order that she should have no plea of discouragement,
+I spoke to her with great tenderness of manner, with a more than usual
+display of feeling. It was no mere show. I felt all that I said and
+looked. I knew that a trying and terrible event was at hand--an event
+painful to us both--and all my love for her revived with tenfold
+earnestness. Oh! how I longed to take her into my arms, and warn her
+tenderly of the consequences of her error; but this, of course, was
+impossible. But, short of this, I did everything that I thought likely
+to induce her confidence. I talked familiarly to her, and fondly, with
+an effort at childlike simplicity and earnestness, in the hope that, by
+thus renewing the dearest relations of ease and happiness between us,
+she should be beguiled into her former trusting readiness of speech. She
+met my fondnesses with equal fondness. It seemed to give her particular
+pleasure that I should be thus fond. In her embrace, requiting mine,
+she clung to me; and her tears dropping warm upon my hands, were yet
+attended by smiles of the most hearty delight. A thousand times she
+renewed the assurances of her love and attachment--nay, she even went
+so far as tenderly to upbraid me that our moments of endearment were so
+few;--yet, in spite of all this, she still forbore the one only subject.
+She still said nothing; and as I knew how much she COULD say and ought
+to say, which she did not say, I could not resist the conviction that
+her tears were those of the crocodile, and her assurances of love the
+glozing commonplaces of the harlot.
+
+In silence she suffered me to leave her for the breakfast-table. She
+looked, it is true--but what had I to do with looks, however earnest
+and devoted? I went from her slowly. When on the stairs, fancying I had
+heard her voice, I returned, but she had not called me. She was still
+silent. Full of sadness I left her, counting slowly and sadly every step
+which I took from her presence.
+
+Edgerton was already at table. He looked very wretched I observed him
+closely. His eye shrunk from the encounter of mine. His looks answered
+sufficiently for his guilt. I said to him:--
+
+“I have to ride out a little ways in the country this morning, and count
+upon your company. I trust you feel well enough to go with me? Indeed,
+it will do you good.”
+
+Of course, my language and manner were stripped of everything that might
+alarm his fears. He hesitated, but complied. The carriage was at the
+door before we had finished breakfast; and with no other object than
+simply to afford her another opportunity for the desired revelation,
+I once more went up to my wife's chamber. Here I lingered fully ten
+minutes, affecting to search for a paper in trunks where I knew it could
+not be found. While thus engaged I spoke to her frequently and fondly.
+She did not need the impulse to make her revelation, except in her own
+heart. The occasion was unemployed. She suffered me once more to depart
+in silence; and this time I felt as if the word of utter and inevitable
+wo had been spoken. The hour had gone by for ever. I could no longer
+resist the conviction of her shameless guilt. All her sighs and tears,
+professions of love and devotion, the fond tenacity of her embrace,
+the deep-seated earnestness and significance in her looks--all went
+for nothing in her failure to utter the one only, and all-important
+communication.
+
+Let no woman, on any pretext, however specious, deceive herself with the
+fatal error, that she can safely harbor, unspoken to her husband, the
+secret of any insult, or base approach, of another to herself!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII.
+
+TOO LATE!
+
+
+Edgerton announced himself to be in readiness, and, at the same time,
+declared his intention to withdraw at once from our hospitality and
+return to his old lodging-house. He had already given instructions to
+his servant for the removal of his things.
+
+“What!” I said with a feeling of irony, which did not make itself
+apparent in my speech--“you are tired of our hospitality, Edgerton? We
+have not treated you well, I am afraid.”
+
+“Yes,” he muttered faintly, “too well. I have every reason to be
+gratified and grateful. No reason to complain.”
+
+He forced himself to say something more by way of acknowledgment; but to
+this I gave little heed. We drove first to Kingsley's, and took him up;
+then, to my office, where I got out, and, entering the office, wrapped
+up my pistol-case carefully in a newspaper, so that the contents might
+not be conjectured, and bringing it forth, thrust it into the boot of
+the carriage.
+
+“What have you got there?” demanded Kingsley. “Something for digestion,”
+ was my reply. “We may be kept late.”
+
+“You are wise enough to be a traveller,” said Kingsley; and without
+further words we drove on. I fancied that when I put the case into the
+vehicle, Edgerton looked somewhat suspicious. That he was uneasy was
+evident enough. He could not well be otherwise. The consciousness of
+guilt was enough to make him so; and then there was but little present
+sympathy between himself and Kingsley.
+
+I had already given the driver instructions. He carried us into the
+loneliest spot of woods some four miles from M----, and in a direction
+very far from the beaten track.
+
+“What brings you into this quarter?” demanded Kingsley. “What business
+have you here?”
+
+“We stop here,” I said as the carriage drove up. “I have some land to
+choose and measure here. Shall we alight, gentlemen?”
+
+I took the pistol-case in my hands and led the way. They followed me.
+The carriage remained. We went on together several hundred yards until
+I fancied we should be quite safe from interruption. We were in a dense
+forest. At a little distance was a small stretch of tolerably open
+pine land, which seemed to answer the usual purposes. Here I paused and
+confronted them.
+
+“Mr. Kingsley,” I said without further preliminaries, “I have taken the
+liberty of bringing you here, as the most honorable man I know, in order
+that you should witness the adjustment of an affair of honor between Mr.
+Edgerton and myself.”
+
+As I spoke I unrolled the pistol-case. Edgerton grew pale as death, but
+remained silent. Kingsley was evidently astonished, but not so much so
+as to forbear the obvious answer.
+
+“How! an affair of honor? Is this inevitable--necessary, Clifford?”
+
+“Absolutely!”
+
+“In no way to be adjusted?”
+
+“In but one! This man has dishonored me in the dearest relations of my
+household.”
+
+“Ha! can it be?”
+
+“Too true! There is no help for it now. I am dealing with him still as
+a man of honor. I should have been justified in shooting him down like
+a dog--as one shoots down the reptile that crawls to the cradle of his
+children. I give him an equal chance for life.”
+
+“It is only what I feared!” said Kingsley, looking at Edgerton as he
+spoke.
+
+The latter had staggered back against a tree. Big drops of sweat stood
+upon his brows. His head hung down. Still he was silent. I gave the
+weapons to Kingsley, who proceeded to charge them.
+
+“I will not fight you, Clifford!” exclaimed the criminal with husky
+accents.
+
+“You must!”
+
+“I can not--I dare not--I will not! You may shoot me down where I stand.
+I have wronged you. I dare not lift weapon at your breast.”
+
+“Wretch! say not this!” I answered. “You must make the atonement.”
+
+“Be it so! Shoot me! You are right! I am ready to die.”
+
+“No, William Edgerton, no! You must not refuse me the only atonement you
+can make. You must not couple that atonement with a sting. Hear me!
+You have violated the rites of hospitality, the laws of honor and of
+manhood, and grossly abused all the obligations of friendship. These
+offences would amply justify me in taking your life without scruple, and
+without exposing my own to any hazard. But my soul revolts at this. I
+remember the past--our boyhood together--and the parental kindness of
+your venerated parent. These deprive me of a portion of that bitterness
+which would otherwise have moved me to destroy you. Take the pistol.
+If life is nothing to you, it is as little to me now. Use the privilege
+which I give you, and I shall be satisfied with the event.”
+
+He shook his head while he repeated:--
+
+“No! I can not. Say no more, Clifford. I deserve death!”
+
+I clapped the pistol to his head. He folded his arms, lifted his eyes,
+and regarded me more steadily than he had done for months before.
+Kingsley struck up nay arm, as I was cocking the weapon.
+
+“He must die!” I exclaimed fiercely.
+
+“Yes, that is certain!” replied the other. “But I am not willing that I
+should be brought here as the witness to a murder. If he will fight you,
+I will see you through. If he will not fight you, there needs no witness
+to your shooting him. You have no right, Clifford, to require this of
+me.”
+
+“You are not a coward, William Edgerton?”
+
+“Coward!” he exclaimed, and his form rose to its fullest height, and his
+eye flashed out the fires of a manhood, which of late he had not often
+shown.
+
+“Coward! No! Do I not tell you shoot? I do not fear death. Nay, let me
+say to you, Clifford, I long for it. Life has been a long torture to
+me--is still a torture. It can not now be otherwise. Take it--you will
+see me smile in the death agony.”
+
+“Hear me William Edgerton, and submit to my will. You know not half your
+wrong. You drove me from my home--my birthplace. When I was about to
+sacrifice you for your previous invasion of my peace in C--, I looked
+on your old father, I heard the story of his disappointment--his
+sorrows--and you were the cause. I determined to spare you--to banish
+myself rather, in order to avoid the necessity of taking your life. You
+were not satisfied with having wrought this result. You have pursued
+me to the woods, where my cottage once more began to blossom with the
+fruits of peace and love. You trample upon its peace--you renew your
+indignities and perfidies here. You drive me to desperation and fill
+my habitation with disgrace. Will you deny me then what I ask? Will you
+refuse me the atonement--any atonement--which I may demand?”
+
+“No, Clifford!” he replied, after a pause in which he seemed subdued
+with shame and remorse. “You shall have it as you wish. I will fight
+you. I am all that you declare. I am guilty of the wrong you urge
+against me. I knew not, till now, that I had been the cause of your
+flight from C--. Had I known that!”
+
+Kingsley offered him the pistol.
+
+“No!” he said, putting it aside. “Not now! I will give you this
+atonement this afternoon. At this moment I can not. I must write. I
+must make another atonement. Your claim for justice, Clifford, must not
+preclude my settlement of the claims of others.”
+
+“Mine must have preference!”
+
+“It shall! The atonement which I propose to make shall be, one of
+repentance. You would not deny me the melancholy privilege of saying a
+few last words to my wretched parents?”
+
+“No! no! no!”
+
+“I thank you, Clifford. Come for me at four to my lodgings--bring Mr.
+Kingsley with you. You will find me ready to atone, and to save you
+every unnecessary pang in doing so.”
+
+This ended our conference. Kingsley rode home with him, while, throwing
+myself upon the ground, I surrendered myself to such meditations as
+were natural to the moods which governed me. They were dark and dismal
+enough. Edgerton had avowed his guilt. Could there be any doubt on the
+subject of my wife's? He had made no sort of qualification in his avowal
+of guilt, which might acquit her. He had evidently made his confession
+with the belief that I was already in possession of the whole truth. One
+hope alone remained--that my wife's voluntary declaration would still be
+forthcoming. To that I clung as the drowning man to his last plank. When
+Kingsley and Edgerton first left me, I had resolved to waste the hours
+in the woods and not to return home until after my final meeting in the
+afternoon with the latter. It might be that I should not return home
+then, and in such an event I was not unwilling that my wife should still
+live, the miserable thing which she had made herself. But, with the
+still fond hope that she might speak, and speak in season, I now
+resolved to return at the usual dinner hour; and, timing myself
+accordingly, I prolonged my wanderings through the woods until noon.
+I then set forward, and reached the cottage a little sooner than I had
+expected.
+
+I found Julia in bed. She complained of headache and fever. She
+had already taken medicine--I sat beside her. I spoke to her in the
+tenderest language. I felt, at the moment when I feared to lose her for
+ever, that I could love nothing half so well. I spoke to her with
+as much freedom as fondness; and, momently expecting her to make the
+necessary revelation, I hung upon her slightest words, and hung upon
+them only to be disappointed.
+
+The dinner hour came. The meal was finished. I returned to the chamber,
+and once more resumed my place beside her on the couch. I strove to
+inspire her with confidence--to awaken her sensibilities--to beguile her
+to the desired utterance, but in vain. Of course I could give no hint
+whatsoever of the knowledge which I had obtained. After that, her
+confession would have been no longer voluntary, and could no longer have
+been credited.
+
+Time sped--too rapidly as I thought. Though anxious for vengeance, I
+loved her too fondly not to desire to delay the minutes in the earnest
+expectation that she would speak at last. She did not. The hour
+approached of my meeting with Edgerton; and then I felt that Edgerton
+was not the only criminal.
+
+Mrs. Porterfield just then brought in some warm tea and placed it on
+the table at the bed head. After a few moments delay, she left us alone
+together. The eyes of my wife were averted. The vial of prussic acid
+stood on the same table with the tea. I rose from the couch, interposed
+my person between it and the table--and, taking up the poison,
+deliberately poured three drops into the beverage. I never did anything
+more firmly. Yet I was not the less miserable, because I was most firm.
+My nerve was that of the executioner who carries out a just judgment.
+This done, I put the vial into my pocket. Julia then spoke to me. I
+turned to her with eagerness. I was prepared to cast the vessel of tea
+from the window. It was my hope that she was about to speak, though
+late, the necessary truths. But she only called to me to know if I had
+been to my office during the morning.
+
+“Not since nine o'clock,” was my answer. “Why?”
+
+“Nothing. But are you going to your office now, dear husband?”
+
+“Not directly. I shall possibly be there in the course of the afternoon.
+What do you wish? Why do you ask?”
+
+“Oh, nothing,” she replied; “but I will tell you to-morrow why I ask.”
+
+“To-morrow!--tell me now, if it be anything of moment. Now! now is the
+appointed time!” The serious language of Scripture, became natural to me
+in the agonizing situation in which I stood.
+
+“No! no! to-morrow will do. I will not gratify your curiosity. You are
+too curious, husband” and she turned from me, smiling, upon the couch.
+
+I felt that what she might tell me to-morrow could have nothing to do
+with the affair between herself and Edgerton. THAT could be no object
+for jest and merriment. I turned from her slowly, with a feeling at
+my heart which was not exactly madness--for I knew then what I was
+doing--but it was just the feeling to make me doubtful how long I
+should be secure from madness.
+
+“To-morrow will not do” I muttered to myself as I descended the stairs.
+“Too late!--too late!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX.
+
+SUICIDE.
+
+
+From the cottage I proceeded to Kingsley's. He was in readiness, and
+waiting me. We drove directly to Edgerton's lodging-house, the appointed
+hour of four being at hand. Kingsley only alighted from the carriage,
+and entered the dwelling. He was absent several minutes. When he
+returned, he returned alone.
+
+“Edgerton is either asleep or has gone out. His room-door is locked. The
+landlord called and knocked, but received no answer. He lacks manliness,
+and I suspect has fled. The steamboat went at two.”
+
+“Impossible!” I exclaimed, leaping from the carriage. “I know Edgerton
+better. I can not think he would fly, after the solemn pledge he gave
+me.”
+
+“You have only thought too well of him always,” said the other, as we
+entered the house.
+
+“Let us go to the room together,” I said to the landlord. “I fear
+something wrong.”
+
+“Well, so do I,” responded the publican. “The poor gentleman has been
+looking very badly, and sometimes gets into a strange wild taking, and
+then he goes along seeing nobody. Only last Saturday I said to my old
+woman, as how I thought everything warn't altogether right HERE,”--and
+the licensed sinner touched his head with his fore-finger, himself
+looking the very picture of well-satisfied sagacity. We said nothing,
+but leaving the eloquence to him, followed him up to Edgerton's chamber.
+I struck the door thrice with the butt end of my whip, then called his
+name, but without receiving any answer. Endeavoring to look through the
+key-hole, I discovered the key on the inside, and within the lock. I
+then immediately conjectured the truth. William Edgerton had committed
+suicide.
+
+And so it was. We burst the door, and found him suspended by a silk
+handkerchief to a beam that traversed the apartment. He had raised
+himself upon a chair, which he had kicked over after the knot had been
+adjusted. Such a proceeding evinced the most determined resolution.
+
+We took him down with all despatch, but life had already been long
+extinct. He must have been hanging two hours. His face was perfectly
+livid--his eyeballs dilated--his mouth distorted--but the neck
+remained unbroken. He had died by suffocation. I pass over the ordinary
+proceedings--the consternation, the clamor, the attendance of the
+grave-looking gentlemen with lancet and lotion. They did a great deal,
+of course, in doing nothing. Nothing could be done. Then followed the
+“crowner's” inquest. A paper, addressed to the landlord, was submitted
+to them, and formed the burden of their report.
+
+“I die by my own hands,” said this document, “that I may lose the sense
+of pain, bodily and mental. I die at peace with the world. It has never
+wronged me. I am the source of my own sorrows, as I am the cause of my
+own death. I will not say that I die sane. I am doubtful on that head. I
+am sure that I have been the victim of a sort of madness for a very long
+time. This has led me to do wrong, and to meditate wrong--has made me
+guilty of many things, which, in my better moments of mind and body,
+I should have shrunk from in horror. I write this that nobody may be
+suspected of sharing in a deed the blame of which must rest on my head
+only.”
+
+Then followed certain apologies to the landlord for having made his
+house the scene of an event so shocking. The same paper also conveyed
+certain presents of personal stuff to the same person, with thanks for
+his courtesy and attention. An adequate sum of money, paying his bill,
+and the expenses of his funeral, was left in his purse, upon the paper.
+
+Kingsley assumed the final direction of these affairs; and having seen
+everything in a fair way for the funeral, which was appointed to take
+place the next morning, he hurried me away to his lodging-house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L.
+
+CONFESSION OF EDGERTON.
+
+
+When within his chamber, he carefully fastened the door and placed a
+packet in my hands.
+
+“This is addressed to you,” he said. “I found it on the table with other
+papers, and seeing the address, and fearing that if the jury laid eyes
+on it, they might insist on knowing its contents, I thrust it into my
+pocket and said nothing about it there. Read it at your leisure, while I
+smoke a cigar below.”
+
+He left me, and I opened the seal with a sense of misgiving and
+apprehension for which I could not easily account. The outer packet was
+addressed to myself. But the envelope contained several other papers,
+one of which was addressed to his father; another--a small billet,
+unsealed--bore the name of my wife upon it.
+
+“That,” I inly (sic) muttered, “she shall never read!”
+
+An instant after, I trembled with a convulsive horror, as the demon who
+had whispered in my ears so long, seemed to say, in mocking accents:--
+
+“Shall not! Ha! ha! She can not! can not!” and then the fiend seemed
+to chuckle, and I remembered the insuppressible anguish of Othello's
+apostrophe, to make all its eloquence my own. I murmured audibly:--
+
+
+       “My wife! my wife! What wife?--I have no wife!
+       Oh, insupportable--oh, heavy hour!”
+
+
+My eyes were blinded. My face sunk down upon the table, and a cold
+shiver shook my frame as if I had an ague. But I recovered myself when
+I remembered the wrongs I had endured--her guilt and the guilt of
+Edgerton. I clutched the papers--brushed the big drops from my forehead,
+and read.
+
+“Clifford, I save you guiltless of my death. You would be less happy
+were my blood upon your hands, for, though I deserve to die by them, I
+know your nature too well--to believe that you would enjoy any malignant
+satisfaction at the performance of so sad a duty. Still, I know that
+this is no atonement. I have simply ceased from persecuting you and the
+angelic woman, your wife. But how shall I atone for the tortures and
+annoyances of the past, inflicted upon you both? Never! never! I perish
+without hope of forgiveness, though, here, alone with God, in the
+extreme of mortal humility, I pray for it!
+
+“Perhaps, you know all. From what escaped you this morning, it would
+seem so. You knew of my madness when in C----; you know that it pursued
+you here. Nothing then remains for me to tell. I might simply say all is
+true; but that, in the confession of my guilt and folly, each particular
+act of sin demands its own avowal, as it must be followed by its own
+bitter agony and groan.
+
+“My passion for your wife began soon after your marriage. Until then I
+had never known her. You will acquit me of any deliberate design to win
+her affections. I strove, as well as I could, to suppress my own. But
+my education did not fit me for such a struggle. The indulgence of
+fond parents had gratified all my wishes, and taught me to expect
+their gratification. I could not subdue my passions even when they
+were unaccompanied by any hopes. Without knowing my own feelings, I
+approached your wife. Our tastes were similar, and these furnished the
+legitimate excuse for frequently bringing us together. The friendly
+liberality of your disposition enlarged the privileges of the
+acquaintance, and, without meaning it at first, I abused them. I sought
+your dwelling at unsuitable periods. Unconsciously, I did so, just at
+those periods when you were most likely to be absent. I first knew that
+my course was wrong, by discovering the unwillingness which I felt to
+encounter you. This taught me to know the true nature of my sentiments,
+but without enforcing the necessity of subduing them. I did not seek
+to subdue them long. I yielded myself up, with the recklessness of
+insanity, to a passion whose very sweetness had the effect to madden.
+
+“My fondness for your wife was increased by pity. You neglected her. I
+was at first indignant and hated you accordingly. But I became glad of
+your neglect for two reasons. It gave me the opportunities for seeing
+her which I desired, and I felt persuaded with a vain folly, that
+nothing could be more natural than that she would make a comparison,
+favorable of course to myself, between my constant solicitude and
+attention and your ungenerous abandonment. But I was mistaken. The
+steady virtue of the wife revenged the wrong which, without deliberately
+intending it, I practised against the husband. When my attentions became
+apparent, she received me with marked coolness and reserve; and finally
+ceased to frequent the atelier, which, while art alone was my object,
+yielded, I think, an equal and legitimate pleasure to us both.
+
+“I saw and felt the change, but had not the courage to discontinue my
+persecutions. My passion, and the tenacity with which it enforced
+its claims, seemed to increase with every difficulty and denial. The
+strangeness of your habits facilitated mine. Almost nightly I visited
+your house, and though I could not but see that the reserve of your wife
+now rose into something like hauteur, yet my infatuation was so great
+that I began to fancy this appearance to be merely such a disguise as
+Prudence assumes in order to conceal its weaknesses, and discourage the
+invader whom it can no longer baffle. With this impression, I hurried on
+to the commission of an offence, the results of which, though they did
+not quell my desires, had the effect of terrifying them, for some, time
+at least, into partial submission.” Would to God, for all our sakes,
+that their submission had been final!
+
+“You remember the ball at Mrs. Delaney's marriage? I waltzed once
+with your wife that evening. She refused to waltz a second time. The
+privileges of this intoxicating dance are such as could be afforded by
+no other practice in social communion--the lady still preserving the
+reputation of virtue. I need not say with what delight I employed these
+privileges. The pressure of her arm and waist maddened me; and when the
+hour grew late, and you did not appear, Mrs. Delaney counselled me to
+tender my carriage for the purpose of conveying her home. I did so;--it
+was refused: but, through the urgent suggestions of her mother, it was
+finally accepted. I assisted her to the carriage, immediately followed,
+and took my place beside her. She was evidently annoyed, and drew
+herself up with a degree of lofty reserve, which, under other
+circumstances, and had I been less excited than I was, by the events
+of the evening, would have discouraged my presumption. It did not. I
+proceeded to renew those liberties which I had taken during the dance.
+I passed my arm about her waist. She repulsed me with indignation, and
+insisted upon my setting her down where we were, in the unfrequented
+street, at midnight. This I refused. She threatened me with your anger;
+and when, still deceiving myself on the subject of her real feelings, I
+proceeded to other liberties, she dashed her hand through the windows of
+the coach, and cried aloud for succor. This alarmed me. I promised
+her forbearance, and finally set her down, very much agitated, at the
+entrance of your dwelling. She refused my assistance to the house,
+but fell to the ground before reaching it. That night her miscarriage
+ensued, and my passions for a season were awed into inactivity, if not
+silence.
+
+“Still I could not account for her forbearance to reveal everything to
+you. You were still kind and affectionate to me as ever. I very well
+knew that had she disclosed the secret, you were not the man to submit
+to such an indignity as that of which I had been guilty. It seems--so I
+infer from what you said this morning--that you knew it all. If you did,
+your forbearance was equally unexpected and merciful. Believing that
+she had kept my secret, my next conclusion was inevitable. 'She is not
+altogether insensible to the passion she inspires. Her strength is in
+her virtues alone. Her sympathies are clearly mine!' These conclusions
+emboldened me. I haunted your house nightly with music. Sheltered
+beneath your trees, I poured forth the most plaintive strains which
+I could extort from my flute. Passion increased the effect of art. I
+strove at no regular tunes; I played as the mood prompted; and felt
+myself, not unfrequently, weeping over my own strange irregular
+melodies.
+
+“Your sudden determination to remove prevented the renewal of my
+persecutions. I need not say how miserable I was made, and how much
+I was confounded by such a determination. Explained by yourself
+this morning, it is now easily understood; but, ignorant then of the
+discoveries you had made--ignorant of your merciful forbearance toward
+my unhappy parents--for I can regard your forbearance with respect
+to myself as arising only from your consideration of them--it was
+unaccountable that you should give up the prospect of fortune and
+honors, which success, in every department of your business, seemed
+certainly to secure you.
+
+“The last night--the eve of your departure from C---, I resumed my place
+among the trees before your dwelling. Here I played and wandered with an
+eye ever fixed upon your windows. While I gazed, I caught the glimpse of
+a figure that buried itself hurriedly behind the folds of a curtain. I
+could suppose it to be one person only. I never thought of you. Urged
+by a feeling of desperation, which took little heed of consequences,
+I clambered up into the branches of a pride of India, which brought
+me within twenty feet of the window. I distinctly beheld the curtain
+ruffled by the sudden motion of some one behind it. I was about to
+speak--to say--no matter what. The act would have been madness, and
+such, doubtless, would have been the language. I fortunately did not
+speak. A few moments only had elapsed after this, when I heard a few
+brief words, spoken in HER voice, from the same window. The words
+were few, and spoken in tones which denoted the great agitation of the
+speaker. These apprized me of my danger.
+
+“'Fly, madman, for your life! My husband is on the stairs.'
+
+“Her person was apparent. Her words could not be mistaken though spoken
+in faint, feeble accents. At the same moment I heard the lower door
+of the dwelling unclose, and without knowing what I did or designed,
+I dropped from the tree to the ground. To my great relief, you did not
+perceive me. I was fortunately close to the fence, and in the deepest
+shadow of the tree. You hurried by, within five steps of me, and
+jumped the fence, evidently thinking to find me in the next enclosure.
+Breathing freely and thankfully after this escape, I fled immediately to
+the little boat in which I usually made my approaches to your habitation
+on such occasions; and was in the middle of the lake, and out of sight,
+long before you had given over your fruitless pursuit. The next day you
+left the city and I remained, the wasted and wasting monument of pas
+sions which had been as profitlessly as they were criminally exercised.
+
+“You were gone;--you had borne with you the object of my devotion; but
+the passion remained and burnt with no less frenzy than before. You were
+not blind to the effect of this frenzy upon my health and constitution.
+You saw that I was consuming with a nameless disease. Perhaps you knew
+the cause and the name, and your departure may have been prompted by a
+sentiment of pity for myself, in addition to that which you felt for my
+unhappy parents. If this be so--and it seems probable--it adds something
+to the agony of life--it will assist me in the work of atonement--it
+will better reconcile me to the momentary struggle of death.
+
+“My ill health increased with the absence of the only object for whom
+health was now desirable. To see her again--to the last--for I now knew
+that that last could not be very remote--was the great desire of my
+mind. Besides, strange to say, a latent hope was continually rising
+and trembling in my soul. I still fancied that I had a place in the
+affections of your wife. You will naturally ask on what this hope was
+founded. I answer, on the supposition that she had concealed from you
+the truth on the subject of my presumptuous assault upon her; and on
+those words of warning by which she had counselled me to fly from your
+pursuit on that last night before you left the city. These may not be
+very good reasons for such a hope, but the faith of the devotee needs
+but slight supply of aliment; and the fanaticism of a flame like mine
+needs even less. A whisper, a look, a smile--nay, even a frown--has
+many a time prompted stronger convictions than this, in wiser heads, and
+firmer hearts than mine.
+
+“My father counselled me to travel, and I was only too glad to obey his
+suggestions. He prescribed the route, but I deceived him. Once on the
+road, I knew but one route that could do me good, or at least afford me
+pleasure. I pursued the object of my long devotion. Here your conduct
+again led me astray. I found you still neglectful of your wife. Still,
+you received me as if I had been a brother, and thus convinced me that
+Julia had kept my secret. In keeping it thus long I now fancied it
+had become hers. I renewed my devotions, but with as little profit as
+before. She maintained the most rigid distance, and I grew nervous and
+feeble in consequence of the protracted homage which I paid, and the
+excitement which followed from this homage. You had a proof of this
+nervousness and excitement in the incident which occurred while crossing
+the stream let. I extended her my hand to assist her over, and scarcely
+had her fingers touched mine, when I felt a convulsion, and sunk,
+fainting and hopelessly into the stream. [Footnote: An incident somewhat
+similar to this occurs in the Life of Petrarch, as given by Mrs. Dobson,
+but the precise facts are not remembered, and I have not the volume by
+me] Conscious of nothing besides, I was yet conscious of her screams.
+This tender interest in my fate increased my madness. It led to a
+subsequent exhibition of it which at length fully opened my eyes to the
+enormity of my offence.
+
+“You blindly as I then thought, took me to your dwelling as if I had
+been a brother. Ah! why? If I was mad, Clifford, your madness was
+not less than mine. It was the blindest madness if not the worst. The
+progress of my insanity was now more rapid than ever. I fancied that
+I perceived signs of something more than coldness between yourself
+and wife. I fancied that you frowned upon her; and in the grave, sad,
+speaking looks which she addressed to you, I thought I read the language
+of dislike and defiance. My own attentions to her were redoubled
+whenever an opportunity was afforded me; but this was not often. I saw
+as little of her while living in your cottage as I had seen before, and,
+but for the good old lady, Mrs. Porterfield, I should probably have been
+even less blessed by her presence. She perceived my dullness, and feeble
+health, and dreaming no ill, insisted that your wife should assist in
+beguiling me of my weariness. She set us down frequently at chess, and
+loved to look on and watch the progress of the game.
+
+“She did not always watch, and last night, while we played together, in
+a paroxysm of madness, I proceeded to those liberties which I suppose
+provoked her to make the revelation which she had so long forborne. My
+impious hands put aside the board, my arms encircled her waist; while,
+kneeling beside her, I endeavored to drag her into my embrace. She
+repulsed me; smote me to her feet with her open palm; and spurning
+me where I lay grovelling, retired to her chamber. I know not what I
+said--I know not what she answered--yet the tones of her voice, sharp
+with Horror and indignation, are even now ringing in my ears!
+
+“Clifford, I have finished this painful narration. I have cursed your
+home with bitterness, yet I pray you not to curse me! Let me implore
+you to ask for merciful forbearance from her, to whom I feel I have been
+such a sore annoyance--too happy if I have not been also a curse to her.
+What I have written is the truth--sadly felt--solemnly spoken--God alone
+being present while I write, while death lingers upon the threshold
+impatient till I shall end. I leave a brief sentence, which you may or
+may not, deliver to your wife. You will send the letter to my father.
+You will see me buried in some holy inclosure; and if you can, you will
+bury with my unconscious form, the long strifes of feeling which I have
+made you endure, and the just anger which I have awakened in your bosom.
+Farewell!--and may the presiding spirit of your home hereafter, be peace
+and love!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LI.
+
+DOUBTS--SUMMONS.
+
+
+The billet which was addressed to my wife was in the following
+language:--“Lady, on the verge of the grave, having sincerely repented
+of the offense I have given you, I implore you to pity and to pardon.
+A sense of guilt and shame weighs me down to earth. You can not apply a
+harsher judgment to my conduct than I feel it deserves; but I am crushed
+already. You will not trample the prostrate. In a few hours my body will
+be buried in the dust. My soul is already there. But, though writhing,
+I do not curse; and still loving, I yet repent. In my last moments I
+implore you to forgive! forgive! forgive!”
+
+This was all, and I considered the two documents with keen and
+conflicting feelings. There was an earnestness--a sincerity about them,
+which I could not altogether discredit. He had freely avowed his own
+errors; but he had not spoken for hers. I did not dare to admit the
+impression which he evidently wished to convey of her entire innocence,
+not only from the practices, but the very thoughts of guilt. It is
+in compliance with a point of honor that the professed libertine yet
+endeavors to excuse and save the partner of his wantonness. In this
+light I regarded all those parts of his narrative which went to
+extenuate her conduct. There was one part of her conduct, indeed, which,
+as it exceeded his ability to account for, was beyond his ability to
+excuse--namely, her strange concealment of his insolence. This was the
+grand fault which, it appeared to me, was conclusive of all the rest. It
+was now my policy to believe in this fault wholly. If I did not, where
+was I? what was my condition?--my misery?
+
+I sat brooding, with these documents open before me on the table, when
+Kingsley tapped at the door. I bade him enter, and put the papers in
+his hands. He read them in silence, laid them down without a word, and
+looked me with a grave composure in the face.
+
+“What do you think of it?” I demanded.
+
+“That he speaks the truth,” he replied.
+
+“Yes, no doubt--so far as he himself is concerned.”
+
+“I should think it all true.”
+
+“Indeed! I think not.”
+
+“Why do you doubt, and what?”
+
+“I doubt those portions in which he insists upon my wife's integrity.”
+
+“Wherefore?”
+
+“There are many reasons; the principal of which is her singular
+concealment of the truth. She suffers a strange man to offend her virtue
+with the most atrocious familiarities, and says nothing to her
+husband, who, alone, could have redressed the wrong and remedied the
+impertinence.”
+
+“That certainly is a staggering fact.”
+
+“According to his own admission, she warns him to fly from the wrath of
+her husband, to which his audacity had exposed him--warns him, in her
+night-dress, and from the window of her chamber.”
+
+“True, true! I had forgotten that.”
+
+“Look at all the circumstances. He haunts the house--according to his
+own showing, persecutes her with attentions, which are so marked,
+that, when he finds her husband ignorant of them, leads him to the
+conclusion--which is natural--that they are not displeasing to the wife.
+He avails himself of the privileges of the waltz, at the marriage of
+Mrs. Delaney, to gratify his lustful anticipations. He presses her arm
+and waist with his d----d fingers. Rides home with her, and, according
+to his story, takes other liberties, which she baffles and sets aside.
+But, mark the truth. Though she requires him to set her down in the
+street--though she makes terms for his forbearance--a wife making terms
+with a libertine--yet he evidently sees her into the house, and when she
+is taken sick, hurries for the mother and the physician. He tells just
+enough of the story to convict himself, but suppresses everything which
+may convict her. How know I that this resistance in the carriage was
+more than a sham? How know I that he did not attend her in the house?
+That they did not dabble together on their way through the dark
+piazza--along the stairs?--Nay, what proof is there that he did not find
+his way, with polluting purpose, into the very chamber?--that chamber,
+from which, not three weeks after, she bade him fly to avoid my wrath!
+What makes her so precious of his life--the life of one who pursues her
+with lust and dishonor--if she does not burn with like passions? But
+there is more.”
+
+Here I told him of the letter of Mrs. Delaney, in which that permanent
+beldame counsels her daughter, less against the passion itself, than
+against the imprudent exhibition of it. It was clear that the mother
+had seen what had escaped my eyes. It was clear that the mother was
+convinced of the attachment of the daughter for this man. Now, the
+attachment being shown, what followed from the concealment of the
+indignities to which Edgerton had subjected her, but that she was
+pleased with them, and did not feel them to be such. These indignities
+are persevered in--are frequently repeated. Our footsteps are followed
+from one country to another. The husband's hours of absence are noted.
+His departure is the invariable signal for them to meet. They meet. His
+hands paddle with hers; his arms grasp her waist. True, we are told
+by him, that she resists; but it is natural that he should make this
+declaration. Its truth is combated by the fact that, of these insults,
+SHE says nothing. That fact is everything. That one fact involves all
+the rest. The woman who conceals such a history, shares in the guilt.
+
+Kingsley assented to these conclusions.
+
+“Yet,” he said, “there is an air of truthfulness about these
+papers--this narrative--that I should be pleased to believe, even if
+I could not;--that I should believe for your sake, Clifford, if for no
+other reason. Honestly, after all you have said and shown--with all the
+unexplained and perhaps unexplainable particulars before me, making the
+appearances so much against her--I can not think your wife guilty. I
+should be sorry to think so.”
+
+“I should now be sorry to think otherwise,” I said huskily. I thought
+of that poisonous draught. I thought with many misgivings, and trembled
+where I sat.
+
+“You surprise me to hear you speak so. Surely, Clifford, you love your
+wife!”
+
+“Love her!” I exclaimed; I could say no more. My sobs choked my
+utterance.
+
+“Nay, do not give up,” he said tenderly. “Be a man. All will go well
+yet. The facts are anything but conclusive. These papers have a realness
+about them, which have their weight against any suspicions, however
+strong. Remember, these are the declarations of a dying man! Surely, all
+minor considerations of policy would give way at such a moment to the
+all-important necessity of speaking the truth. Besides, there is one
+consideration alone, to which we have made no reference, which yet
+seems to me full of weight and value. Edgerton could scarcely have been
+successful in his designs upon your wife. He was in fact dying of the
+disappointment of his passions. They could not have been gratified.
+Success takes an exulting aspect. He was always miserable and
+wo-begone--always desponding, sad, unhappy, from the first moment when
+this passion began, to the last.”
+
+“Guilt, guilt, nothing but guilt!”
+
+“No, Clifford, no!--The guilt that works so terribly upon conscience as
+to produce such effects upon the frame, inevitably leads to repentance.
+Now, we find that Edgerton pursued his object until he was detected.”
+
+I shook my head.
+
+“Do not steel yourself against probabilities, my dear fellow,” said
+Kingsley.
+
+“Proofs against probabilities always!”
+
+“No! none of these are proofs except the papers you have in your hands,
+and the imperfect events which you witnessed. I am so much an admirer of
+your wife myself, that I am ready to believe this statement against the
+rest; and to believe that, however strange may have been her conduct in
+some respects, it will yet be explained in a manner which shall acquit
+her of misconduct. Believe me, Clifford, think with me--”
+
+“No! no! I can not--dare not! She is a--”
+
+“Do not! Do not! No harsh words, even were it so! She has been your
+wife. She should still be sacred in your eyes, as one who has slept upon
+your bosom.”
+
+“A traitress all the while, dreaming of the embraces of another.”
+
+“Clifford, what can this mean? You are singularly inveterate.”
+
+“Should I not be so? Am I not lost--abandoned--wrecked on the high seas
+of my hope--my fortunes scattered to the winds--my wealth, the jewel
+which I prized beyond all beside, which was worth the whole, gone down,
+swallowed up, and the black abyss closed over it for ever?”
+
+“We are not sure of this”
+
+“I am!”
+
+“No! no!”
+
+“I am! Though she be innocent, who shall rid me of the doubt, the fear,
+the ineradicable suspicion! THAT blackens all my sunlight; THAT poisons
+all my peace. I can never know delight. Nay, though you proved her
+innocent, it is now too late. Kingsley, by this time I have no wife!”
+
+“Ha! Surely, Clifford, you have not--”
+
+“Hark! Some one knocks! Again!--again!--I understand it. I know what it
+means. They are looking for me. She is dead or dying. I tell you it is
+quite in vain that you should argue. Above all, do not seek to prove her
+innocent.”
+
+The knocking without increased. He seized my arm as I was going forward,
+and prevented me.
+
+“Compose yourself,” he said, thrusting me into a chair. “Remain here
+till I return. I will see what is wanted.”
+
+But I followed him, and reached the door almost as soon as himself. It
+was as I expected. I had been sent for. My wife was dangerously ill.
+Such was the tenor of the message. More I could not learn. The servant
+had been an hour in search of me. Had sought me at the office and in
+other places which I had been accustomed to frequent; and I felt that
+after so long a delay, there was no longer need for haste. Still, I was
+about to depart with hasty footsteps. The servant was already dismissed.
+Kingsley grasped my arm.
+
+“I will go along with you.” he said; and as we went, he spoke, in low
+accents, to the following effect:--
+
+“I know not what you have done, Clifford; and there is no need that I
+should know. Keep your secret. I do not think the worse of you that you
+have been maddened to crime. Let the same desperation nerve you now to
+sufficient composure. Beware of what you say, lest these people suspect
+you.”
+
+“And what if they do? Think you, Kingsley, that I fear? No! no! Life has
+nothing now. I lost fear, and hope, and everything in her.”
+
+“But may she not live?”
+
+“No, I think not; the poison is most deadly. Though, even if she lives,
+my loss would not be less. She ceased to live for me the moment that she
+began to live for another!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LII.
+
+DEATH.
+
+
+Nothing more was said until we reached the cottage. Mrs. Porterfield and
+the physician met us at the entrance. We had come too late!
+
+She was dead. They had found her so when they despatched the servant in
+quest of me; but they were not certain of the fact, and the servant was
+instructed to say she was only very ill. The physician was called in as
+soon as possible; but had declared himself, as soon as he came, unable
+to do anything for her. He had bled her; and, before our arrival, had
+already pronounced upon her disease. It was apoplexy!
+
+“Apoplexy!” I exclaimed, involuntarily. Kingsley gave me a look.
+
+“Yes, sir, apoplexy,” continued the learned gentleman. “She must have
+had several fits. It is evident that she was conscious after the first,
+for she appears to have endeavored to reach the door. She was found at
+the entrance, lying upon the floor. When I saw her, she must have been
+lifeless a good hour.” [The reader will be reminded of the melancholy
+details in the ease of Miss Liuulon-L. E. L.-whose fate is still a
+mystery.]
+
+
+He added sundry reasons, derived from her appearance, which he assured
+us were conclusive on this subject; but to these I gave little heed. I
+did not stop to listen. I hurried to the chamber, closed the door, and
+was alone with my victim, with my wife!
+
+My victim!--my wife!
+
+I stood above her inanimate form. How lovely in death--but, oh! how
+cold! I looked upon her pale, transparent cheeks and forehead, through
+which the blue lines of veins, that were pulseless now, gleamed out,
+showing the former avenues of the sweet and blessed life. I was disarmed
+of my anger while I gazed. I bent down beside her, took the rigid
+fingers of her hand in mine, and pressed my lips upon the bloodless but
+still beautiful forms of hers.
+
+I remembered her youth and her beauty--the glowing promise of her mind,
+and the gentle temper of her heart. I remembered the dear hours of our
+first communion--how pure were our delights--how perfect my felicity.
+How we moved together as with one being only--beside the broad streams
+of our birthplace--under the shelter of shady pines--morning, and noon,
+and in the star-lighted night--never once dreaming that an hour like
+this would come!
+
+And she seemed so perfect pure, as she was so perfect lovely! Never
+did I hear from her lips sentiment that was not--not only virtuous, but
+delicate and soft--not only innocent but true--not only true but fond!
+Alas! so to fall--so too yield herself at last! To feel the growth of
+rank passion--to surrender her pure soul and perfect form to the base
+uses of lust--to be no better than the silly harlot, that, beguiled by
+her eager vanity, surrenders the precious jewel in her trust, to the
+first cunning sharper that assails her with a smiling lie!
+
+Oh God! how these convictions shook my frame! I had no longer strength
+for thought or action. I was feebler than the child, who, lost in the
+woods, struggles and sinks at last, through sheer exhaustion, into
+sobbing slumber at the foot of the unfeeling tree. I did not sob. I had
+no tears. But at intervals, the powers of breathing becoming choked,
+and my struggles for relief were expressed in a groan which I vainly
+endeavored to keep down. The sense of desolation was upon me much more
+strongly than that of either crime or death. I did not so much feel that
+she was guilty, as that I was alone! That, henceforth, I must for ever
+be alone. This was the terrible conviction;--and oh! how lone! To lessen
+its pangs, I strove to recall the fault for which she perished--to renew
+the recollection of those thousand small events, which, thrown together,
+had seemed to me mountains of rank and reeking evidence against her. But
+even my memory failed me in this effort. All this was a blank. The few
+imperfect and shadowy facts which I could recall seemed to me wholly
+unimportant in establishing the truth of what I sought to believe; and
+I shuddered with the horrible doubt that she might be innocent! If she
+were indeed innocent, what am I?
+
+With the desperate earnestness of the cast-away, who strives, in
+mid-ocean, for the only plank which can possibly retard his doom, did I
+toil to re-establish in my mind that conviction of her guilt which the
+demon in my soul had made so certain by his assurances before. Alas! I
+had not only lost the wife of my bosom, but its fiend also. Vainly now
+did I seek to summon him back. Vainly did I call upon him to renew his
+arguments and proofs! He had fled--fled for ever; and I could fancy
+that I heard him afar off, chuckling with hellish laughter, over the
+triumphant results of his malice.
+
+I know not how long I hung over that silent speaker. Her pale, placid
+countenance--her bloodless lips, that still seemed to smile upon me as
+they had ever done before;--and that eye of speaking beauty--only half
+closed--oh! what conclusive assurances did they seem to give of that
+innocence which it now seemed the worst impiety to doubt! I would have
+given worlds--alas! how impotent is such a speech! Death sets his seal
+upon hope, and love, and endeavor; and the regrets of that childish
+precipitation which has obeyed the laws of passion only, are only so
+many mocking memorials of the blind heart, that jaundiced the face of
+truth, and distorted all the aspects of the beautiful.
+
+Once more I laughed--a vain hysterical laugh--the expression of my
+conviction that I was self-doomed and desperate; and, writhing beside
+the inanimate angel whom I then would have recalled though with all her
+guilt--assuming all of it to have been true--to the arms that wantonly
+cast her off for ever--I grasped the cold senseless limbs in my embrace,
+and placed the drooping head once more upon the bosom where it could not
+long remain! What a weight! The pulsation in my own heart ceased, and,
+with a shudder, I released the chilling form from my grasp, and found
+strength barely to compose the limbs once more in the bed beside me.
+
+I pass over the usual and unnecessary details. There was a show of
+inquiry of course; but the one word of the learned young gentleman in
+black silenced any further examination. It was shown to the inquest by
+Mrs. Porterfield that my wife had been sick--that she was suddenly
+found dead. The physician furnished the next necessary fact. I was not
+examined at all, I stood by in silence. I heard the verdict--“Death by
+apoplexy”---with a smile. I was not unwilling to state the truth. Had I
+been called upon I should have done so. At first I was about to proffer
+my testimony, but a single sentence from the lips of Kingsley, when I
+declared to him my purpose, silenced me:--
+
+“If you are not afraid to declare your own act, you should at least
+scruple to denounce her shame! She died your wife. Let that seal your
+tongue. The shame would be shared between you! You could only justify
+your crime by exposing hers!”
+
+With the stern strength of desperation I stood above the grave, and
+heard the heavy clod ring hollowly upon the coffin. And there closed
+two lives in one. My hopes were buried there as effectually as her
+unconscious form.
+
+Life is not breath simply. Not the capacity to move, and breathe, to
+act, eat, drink, sleep, and say, “Thank God! we have ate, drank, and
+slept!” The life of humanity consists in hope, love, and labor. In the
+capacity to desire, to affect, ant to struggle. I had now nothing for
+which I could hope, nothing to love, nothing to struggle for!
+
+Yes! life has something more:--endurance! This is a part of the
+allotment. The conviction of this renewed my strength But it was the
+strength of desolation I I had taken courage from despair!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIII.
+
+REVELATION--THE LETTER OF JULIA.
+
+
+It must be remembered, that, in all this time--amidst all my agonies--my
+feelings of destitution and despair--I had few or no doubts of the
+guilt of Julia Clifford. My sufferings arose from the love which I
+had felt--the defeat of my hopes and fortune--the long struggle of
+conflicting feelings, mortified pride, and disappointed enjoyment.
+Excited by the melancholy spectacle before me--beholding the form of
+her, once so beautiful--still so beautiful--whom I had loved with such
+an absorbing passion--whom I could not cease to love--suddenly cut
+off from life--her voice, which was so musical, suddenly hushed for
+ever--the tides of her heart suddenly stopped--and all the sweet waters
+of hope dried up in her bosom, and turned into bitterness and blight in
+mine--the force of my feelings got the better of my reason, and cruel
+and oppressive doubts of the justness of her doom overpowered my soul.
+But, with the subsiding of my emotions, under the stern feeling of
+resolve which came to my relief, and which my course of education
+enabled me to maintain, my persuasions of her guilt were resumed, and I
+naturally recurred to the conclusions which had originally justified me
+to myself, in inflicting the awful punishment of death upon her. But I
+was soon to be deprived of this justification--to be subjected to
+the terrible recoil of all my feelings of justice, love, honor and
+manliness, in the new and overwhelming conviction, not only that I had
+been premature, but that she was innocent!--innocent, equally of thought
+and deed, which could incur tire reproach of impurity, or the punishment
+of guilt.
+
+Three days had elapsed after her burial, when I re-opened and
+re-appeared in my office. I did not re-open it with any intention to
+resume my business. That was impossible in a place, where, at every
+movement, the grave of my victim rose, always green, in my sight. My
+purpose was to put my papers in order transfer them to other parties,
+dispose of my effects, and depart with Kingsley to the new countries, of
+which he had succeeded in impressing upon me some of his own opinions.
+Not that these furnished for me any attractions. I was not persuaded by
+any customary arguments held out to the ambitious and the enterprising.
+It was a matter of small moment to me where I went, so that I left the
+present scene of my misery and over-throw. In determining to accompany
+him to Texas, no part of my resolve was influenced by the richness of
+its soil, or the greatness of its probable destinies. These, though
+important in the eyes of my friend, were as nothing in mine. In taking
+that route my object was simply, TO GO WITH HIM. He had sympathized with
+me, after a rough fashion of his own, the sincerity of which was
+more dear to me than the roughness was repulsive. He had witnessed my
+cares--he knew my guilt and my griefs--this knowledge endeared him to
+me more strongly than ever, and made him now more necessary to my
+affections than any other living object.
+
+I re-opened my office and resumed my customary seat at the table. But I
+sat only to ruminate upon things and thoughts which, following the
+track of memory, diverted my sight as well as my mind, from all present
+objects. I saw nothing before me, except vaguely, and in a sort of
+shadow. I had a hazy outline of books against the wall; and a glimmering
+show of papers and bundles upon the table. I sat thus for some time,
+lost in painful and humiliating revery. Suddenly I caught a glimpse of
+a packet on the table, which I did not recollect to have seen before. It
+bore my name. I shuddered to behold it, for it was in the handwriting
+of my wife. This, then, was the writing upon which she had been secretly
+engaged, for so many days, and of which Mrs. Porterfield had given me
+the first intimation. I remembered the words of Julia when she assured
+me that it was intended for me--when she playfully challenged my
+curiosity, and implored me to acknowledge an anxiety to knew the
+contents. The pleading tenderness of her speech and manner now rose
+vividly to my recollection. It touched me more now--now that the
+irrevocable step had been taken--far more than it ever could have
+affected me then. Then, indeed, I remained unaffected save by the
+caprice of my evil genius. The demon of the blind heart was then
+uppermost. In vain now did I summon him to my relief. Where was he? Why
+did he not come?
+
+I took up the packet with trembling fingers. My nerves almost failed
+me. My heart shrank and sank with painful presentiments. What could this
+writing mean? Of what had Julia Clifford to write? Her whole world's
+experience was contained, and acquired, in my household. The only
+portion of this experience which she might suppose unknown to me was her
+intercourse with Edgerton. The conclusion, then, was natural that
+this writing related to this matter; but, if natural, why had I not
+conjectured it before? Why, when I first heard of it, had the conclusion
+not forced itself upon me as directly as it did now? Alas! it was clear
+to me now that I was then blind; and, with this clearness of sight, my
+doubts increased; but they were doubts of myself, rather than doubts of
+her.
+
+It required an effort before I could recover myself sufficiently to
+break the seal of the packet. First, however, I rose and reclosed the
+office. Whatever might be the contents of the paper, to me it was the
+language of a voice from the grave. It contained the last words of one
+I never more should hear. The words of one whom I had loved as I could
+never love again. It was due to her, and to my own heart, that she
+should be heard in secret;--that her words--whether in reproach or
+repentance--whether in love or scorn--should fall upon mine ear without
+witness, in a silence as solemn as was that desolate feeling which now
+sat, like a spectre, brooding among the ruins of my heart.
+
+My pulses almost ceased to beat--my respiration was impeded--my eyes
+swam--my senses reeled in dismay and confusion--as I read the following
+epistle. Too late! too late! Blind, blind heart! And still I was not
+mad!--No! no!--that would have been a mercy which I did not merit!--that
+would have been forgetfulness--utter oblivion of the woe which I can
+never cease to feel.
+
+The Last Letter of Julia.
+
+“Husband, Dear Husband!
+
+“I write to you in fear and trembling. I have striven to speak to you,
+more than once, but my tongue and strength have failed me. What I
+have to tell you is so strange and offensive, and will be to you so
+startling, that you will find it hard to believe me; and yet, dear
+husband, there is not a syllable of it which is not true! If I knew that
+I were to die to-morrow I could with perfect safety and confidence make
+the same confession which I make now. But I do not wish you to take what
+I say on trust; look into the matter yourself--not precipitately--above
+all, not angrily--and you will see that I say nothing here which the
+circumstances will not prove. Indeed, my wonder is that so much of it
+has remained unknown to you already.
+
+“Husband, Mr. Egerton deceives you--he has all along deceived you--he is
+neither your friend nor mine. I would call him rather the most dangerous
+enemy; for he comes by stealth, and abuses confidence, and, like the
+snake in the fable, seeks to sting the very hand that has warmed him.
+I know how much this will startle you, for I know how much you think of
+him, and love him, and how many are the obligations which you owe to
+his father. But hear me to the end, and you will be convinced, as I
+have been, that, so far from your seeking his society and permitting
+his intimacy in our household, you would be justified in the adoption
+of very harsh measures for his expulsion--at least, it would become your
+duty to inform him that you can no longer suffer his visits.
+
+“To begin, then, dear husband. Mr. Egerton has been bold enough to speak
+to me in such language, as was insulting in him to utter, and equally
+painful and humiliating for me to hear. He has done this, not once, nor
+twice, nor thrice, but many times. You will ask why I have not informed
+you of this before; but I had several reasons for forbearing to do
+so, which I will relate in the proper places. I fancied that I could
+effectually repel insult of this sort without making you a party to
+it, for I feared the violence of your temper, and dreaded that the
+consequences might be bloodshed. I am only prompted to take a different
+course now, as I find that I was mistaken in this impression--and
+perceive that there is no hope of a remedy against the impertinence but
+by appealing to you for protection.
+
+“It was not long after our marriage before the attentions of Mr.
+Edgerton became so particular as to annoy me; and I consulted my mother
+on the subject, but she assured me that such were customary, and so long
+as you were satisfied I had no reason to be otherwise. I was not quite
+content with this assurance, but did not know what other course to take,
+and there was nothing in the conduct of Mr. Edgerton so very marked
+and offensive as to justify me in making any communication to you. What
+offended me in his bearing was his fixed and continued watchfulness--the
+great earnestness of his looks--the subdued tones of his voice when he
+spoke to me, almost falling to a whisper, and the unusual style of his
+language, which seemed to address itself to such feelings only as do not
+belong to the common topics of discourse. The frequency of his visits to
+the studio afforded him opportunities for indulging in these practices;
+and your strange indifference to his approaches, and your equally
+strange and most unkind abandonment of my society for that of others,
+increased these opportunities, of which he scrupled not to take constant
+advantage. I soon perceived that he sought the house only at the periods
+when you were absent. He seemed always to know when this was the case;
+and I noted the fact, particularly, that, if, on such occasions, you
+happened to arrive unexpectedly he never remained long afterward, but
+took his departure with an abruptness that, it seemed wonderful to me
+you should not have perceived. Conduct so strange as this annoyed
+rather than alarmed me; and it made me feel wretched, perhaps beyond any
+necessity for it, when I found myself delivered up, as it were, to such
+persecution, by the very person whose duty it was to preserve me, and
+whose own presence, which would have been an effectual protection,
+was so dear to me always. Do not suppose, dear Edward, that I mean to
+reproach you. I do not know what may have been your duties abroad, and
+the trials which drew you so much from home, and from the eyes of a
+wife who knows no dearer object of contemplation than the form of her
+husband. Men in business, I know, have a thousand troubles out of doors,
+which a generous sensibility makes them studious never to bring home
+with them; and, knowing this, I determined to think lovingly of you
+always--to believe anything rather than that you would willingly neglect
+me;--and, by the careful exercise of my thoughts and affections, as
+they should properly be exercised, so to protect my own dignity and your
+honor, as to spare you any trouble or risk in asserting them, and, at
+the same time, to save both from reproach.
+
+“But, though I think I maintained the most rigid reserve, as well of
+looks as of language, this unhappy young man continued his persecutions.
+In order to avoid him, I abandoned my usual labors in the studio. From
+the moment when I saw that he was disposed to abuse the privileges of
+friendship, I yielded that apartment entirely to him, and invariably
+declined seeing him when he visited the house in the mornings. But I
+could not do this at evening; and this became finally a most severe
+trial, for it so happened, that you now adopted a habit which left him
+entirely unrestrained, unless in the manner of his reception by myself.
+You now seldom remained at home of an evening, and thus deprived me of
+that natural protector whose presence would have spared me much pain
+with which I will not distress you. Ah! dearest husband, why did you
+leave me on such occasions? Why did you abandon me to the two-fold
+affliction of combating the approaches of impertinence, at the very
+moment when I was suffering from the dreadful apprehension that I no
+longer possessed those charms which had won me the affections of a
+husband. Forgive me! My purpose is not to reproach, but to entreat you.
+
+“I need not pass over the long period through which this persecution
+continued. Your indifference seemed to me to give stimulus to the
+perseverance of this young man. Numberless little circumstances combined
+to make me think that, from this cause, indeed, he drew something like
+encouragement for his audacious hopes. The strength of your friendship
+for him blinded you to attentions which, it seemed to me, every eye must
+have seen but yours. I grew more and more alarmed; and a second time
+consulted with my mother. Her written answer you will find, marked No.
+1, with the rest of the enclosures in this envelope. She laughed at
+my apprehensions, insisted that Mr. Edgerton had not transcended the
+customary privileges, and intimated, very plainly as you will see,
+that a wife can suffer nothing from the admiration of a person, not
+her husband, however undisguised this admiration may be--provided she
+herself shows none in return;--an opinion with which I could not concur,
+for the conclusive reason that, whatever the world may think on such a
+subject, the object of admiration, if she has any true sensibilities,
+must herself suffer annoyance, as I did, from the special designation
+which attends such peculiar and marked attention as that to which I was
+subjected. My mother took much pains, verbally and in writing, as the
+within letters will show you, to relieve me from the feeling of disquiet
+under which I suffered, but without effect; and I was further painfully
+afflicted by the impression which her general tone of thought forced
+upon me, that her sense of propriety was so loose and uncertain that I
+could place no future reliance upon her councils in relation to this or
+any other kindred subject. Ah, Edward! little can you guess how lonely
+and desolate I felt, when, unable any longer to refer to her, I still
+did not dare to look to you.
+
+“One opinion of hers, however, had very much alarmed me. You will find
+it expressed in the letter marked No. 8, in this collection. When I
+complained to her of the approaches of Mr. Edgerton, and declared my
+purpose of appealing to you if they were continued, she earnestly and
+expressly exhorted me against any such proceeding. She assured me that
+such a step would only lend to violence and bloodshed--reminded me of
+your sudden anger--your previous duel--and insisted that nothing
+more was necessary to check the impertinence than my own firmness and
+dignity. Perhaps this would have been enough, were it always practicable
+to maintain the reserve and coldness which was proper to effect this
+object, and, indeed, I could not but perceive that the effect was
+produced in considerable degree by this course. Mr. Edgerton visited the
+house less frequently; grew less impressive in his manner, and much
+more humble, until that painful and humiliating night of my mother's
+marriage. That night he asked me to dance with him. I declined; but
+afterward he came to me accompanied by my mother. She whispered in my
+ears that I was harsh in my refusal, and called my attention to his
+wretched appearance. Had I reflected upon it then, as I did afterward,
+this very allusion would have been sufficient to have determined me not
+to consent;--but I was led away by her suggestions of pity, and stood
+up with him for a cotillion. But the music changed, the set was altered,
+and the Spanish dance was substituted in its place. In the course of
+this dance, I could not deceive myself as to the degree of presumption
+which my partner displayed; and, but for the appearance of the thing,
+and because I did not wish to throw the room into disorder, I would have
+stopped and taken my seat long before it was over. When I did take my
+seat, I found myself still attended by him, and it was with difficulty
+that I succeeded finally in defeating his perseverance, by throwing
+myself into the midst of a set of elderly ladies, where he could no
+longer distinguish me with his attentions. In the meantime you had left
+the room. You had deserted me. Ah! Clifford, to what annoyance did your
+absence expose me that night! To that absence, do we owe that I lost the
+only dear pledge of love that God had ever vouchsafed us--and you know
+how greatly my own life was perilled. Think not, dearest, that I speak
+this to reproach you; and yet--could you have remained!--could you have
+loved, and longed to be and remain with me, as most surely did I long
+for your presence only and always--ah! how much sweeter had been our
+joys--how more pure our happiness--our faith--with now--perhaps, even
+now--the dear angel whom we then lost, living and smiling beneath our
+eyes, and linking our mutual hearts more and more firmly together than
+before!
+
+“That night, when it became impossible to remain longer without
+trespassing--when all the other guests had gone--I consented to be taken
+home in Mr. Edgerton's carriage. Had I dreamed that Mr. Edgerton was to
+have been my companion, I should have remained all night before I would
+have gone with him, knowing what I knew, and feeling the mortification
+which I felt. But my mother assured me that I was to have the carriage
+to myself--it was she who had procured it;--and it was not until I was
+seated, and beheld him enter, that I had the least apprehension of such
+an intrusion. Edward! it is with a feeling almost amounting to horror,
+that I am constrained to think that my mother not only knew of his
+intention to accompany me, but that she herself suggested it. This, I
+say to YOU! You will find the reasons for my suspicions in the letters
+which I enclose. It is a dreadful suspicion--at the expense of one's
+own mother! I dare not believe in the dark malice which it implies.--I
+strive to think that she meant and fancied only some pleasant mischief.
+
+“I shudder to declare the rest! This man, your friend--he whom you
+sheltered in your bosom, and trusted beyond all others--whom you have
+now taken into your house with a blindness that looks more like a
+delusion of witchcraft than of friendship--this impious man, I say,
+dared to wrap me in his embrace--dared to press his lips upon mine!
+
+“My cheek even now burns as I write, and I must lay down the pen because
+of my trembling. I struggled from his grasp--I broke the window by my
+side, and cried for help from the wayfarers. I cried for you! But, you
+did not answer! Oh, husband! where were you? Why, why did you expose me
+to such indignities?
+
+“He was alarmed. He promised me forbearance; and, convulsed with fright
+and fear, I found myself within our enclosure, I knew not how; but
+before I reached the cottage I became insensible, and knew nothing more
+until the pangs of labor subdued the more lasting pains of thought and
+recollection.
+
+“You resolved to leave our home--to go abroad among strangers, and Oh!
+how I rejoiced at your resolution. It seemed to promise me happiness; at
+least it promised me rescue and relief. I should at all events be free
+from the persecution of this man. I dreaded the consequences, either to
+you or to him-self, of the exposure of his insolence. I had resolved on
+making it; and only hesitated, day by day, as my mother dwelt upon
+the dangers which would follow. And when you determined on removal, it
+seemed to me the most fortunate providence, it promised to spare me the
+necessity of making this painful revelation at all. Surely, I
+thought, and my mother said, as this will put an effectual stop to his
+presumption, there will be no need to narrate what is already past. The
+only motive in telling it at all would be to prevent, not to punish:
+if the previous one is effected by other means, it is charity only to
+forbear the relation of matters which would breed hatred, and probably
+provoke strife. This made me silent; and, full of new hope--the hope
+that having discarded all your old associates and removed from all your
+old haunts, you would become mine entirely--I felt a new strength in my
+frame, a new life in my breast, and a glow upon my cheeks as within my
+soul, which seemed a guaranty for a long and happy term of that love
+which had begun in my bosom with the first moments of its childish
+consciousness and confidence.
+
+“But one painful scene and hour I was yet compelled to endure the night
+before our departure. Mr. Edgerton came to play his flute under our
+window. I say Mr. Edgerton, but it was only by a sort of instinct that
+I fixed upon him as the musician. Perhaps it was because I knew not what
+other person to suspect. Frequently, before this night, had I heard this
+music; but on this occasion he seemed to have approached more nearly
+to the dwelling; and, indeed, I finally discovered that he was actually
+beneath the China-tree that stood on the south front of the cottage. I
+was asleep when the music began. He must have been playing for some
+time before I awakened. How I was awakened I know not; but something
+disturbed me, and I then saw you about to leave the room stealthily. I
+heard your feet upon the stairs, and in the next moment I discovered one
+of your pistols lying upon the window-sill, just beneath my eyes. This
+alarmed me; a thousand apprehensions rushed into my brain; all the
+suggestions of strife and bloodshed which my mother had ever told me,
+filled my mind; and without knowing exactly what I did or said, I called
+out to the musician to fly with all possible speed. He did so; and after
+a delay which was to me one of the most cruel apprehension, you returned
+in safety. Whether you suspected, and what, I could not conjecture; but
+if you had any suspicions of me, you did not seem to entertain any
+of him, for you spoke of him afterward with the same warm tone of
+friendship as before.
+
+“That something in my conduct had not pleased you, I could see from
+your deportment as we travelled the next morning. You were sad, and very
+silent and abstracted. This disappeared, however, and, day by day, my
+happiness, my hope, my confidence in you, in myself, in all things,
+increased--and I felt assured of realizing that perfect idea of felicity
+which I proposed to myself from the moment when you declared your
+purpose to emigrate. Were we not happy, husband--so happy at M----,
+for weeks, for months--always, morning, noon, and night--until the
+reappearance of this false friend of yours? Then, it seemed to me as
+if everything changed. Then, that other friend of yours--who, though
+he never treated me with aught but respect, I yet can call no friend of
+mine--Mr. Kingsley, drew you away again from your home--carried you with
+him to his haunts--detained you late and long, by night and day--and I
+was left once more exposed to the free and frequent familiarity of Mr.
+Edgerton. He renewed his former habits; his looks were more presuming,
+and his attentions more direct and loathsome than ever. More than once
+I strove to speak with you on this hateful subject; but it was so
+shocking, and you were so fond of him, and I still had my fears! At
+length, moved by compassion, you brought him to our house. Blind and
+devoted to him--with a blindness and devotion beyond that which the
+noblest friendship would deserve, but which renders tenfold more hateful
+the dishonest and treacherous person upon whom it is thrown away--you
+command me to meet him with kindness--to tend his bed of sickness--to
+soothe his moments of sadness and despondency--to expose myself to his
+insolence!
+
+“Husband, my soul revolts at this charge! I have disobeyed it and you;
+and I must justify myself in this my disobedience. I must at length
+declare the truth. I have striven to do so in the preceding narrative.
+This narrative I began when you brought this false friend into our
+dwelling. He must leave it. You must command his departure. Do not
+think me moved by any unhappy or unbecoming prejudices against him. My
+antipathies have arisen solely from his presumption and misconduct. I
+esteemed him--nay, I even liked him--before. I liked his taste for the
+arts, his amiable manners, his love of music and poetry, and all those
+graces of the superior mind and education, which dignify humanity, and
+indicate its probable destinies. But when he showed me how false he was
+to a friendship so free and confiding as was yours--when he abused my
+eyes and ears with expressions unbecoming in him, and insulting and
+ungenerous to me--I loathed and spurned him. While he is in your house
+I will strive and treat him civilly, but do not tax me further. For your
+sake I have borne much; for the sake of peace, and to avoid strife
+and crime, I have been silent--perhaps too long. The strange, improper
+letters of my mother, which I enclose, almost make me tremble to think
+that I have paid but too much deference to her opinion. But, in the
+expulsion of this miserable man from your dwelling, there needs no
+violence, there needs no crime! A word will overwhelm him with shame.
+Remember, dear husband, that he is feeble and sick; it is probable he
+has not long to live. Perform your painful duty privily, and with all
+the forbearance which is consistent with a proper firmness. In truth, he
+has done us no real harm. Let us remember THAT! If anything, he has only
+made me love you the more, by showing so strongly how generous is the
+nature which he has so infamously abused. Once more, dear husband, do no
+violence. Let not our future days be embittered by any recollections
+of the present. Command, compel his departure, and come home to me, and
+keep with me always.
+
+“Your own true wife,
+
+“Julia Clifford.”
+
+“Postscript.--I had closed this letter yesterday, thinking to send it
+to your office in the afternoon. I had hoped that there would be nothing
+more;--but last night, this madman--for such I must believe him to
+be--committed another outrage upon my person! He has a second time
+seized me in his arms and endeavored to grasp me in his embrace. O
+husband!--why, why do you thus expose me? Do you indeed love me? I
+sometimes tremble with a fear lest you do not. But I dare not think so.
+Yet, if you do, why am I thus exposed--thus deserted--thus left to a
+companionship which is equally loathsome to me and dishonoring to you?
+I implore you to open your eyes--to believe me, and discard this false
+friend from your dwelling and your confidence. But, oh, be merciful,
+dear husband! Strike no sudden blow! Send him forth with scorn but
+remember his feebleness, his family, and spare his life. I send this by
+Emma. Let no one see the letters of my mother but burn them instantly.
+
+“Your own Julia.”
+
+And this was the writing which had employed her time for days before the
+sad catastrophe! And it was for this reason that she asked, with so much
+earnestness, if I had been to my office on the day when I drove Edgerton
+out into the woods for the adjustment of our issue? No wonder that
+she was anxious at that moment. How much depended upon that simple
+and ordinary proceeding. Had I but gone that day to my office as
+usual!......
+
+There were no longer doubts. There could be none. There was now no
+mystery. It was all clear. The most ambiguous portions of her conduct
+had been as easily and simply explained as the rest. But it availed
+nothing! The blow had fallen. I was an accursed man--truly accursed, and
+miserably desolate.
+
+I still sat, stolid, seemingly, as the insensible chair which sustained
+me, when Kingsley came in. He took the papers from my unresisting hands.
+He read them in silence. I heard but one sentence from his lips, and it
+came from them unconsciously:--
+
+“Poor, poor girl!”
+
+I looked round and started to my feet. The tears were on on manly
+checks. I hatched none. My eyes were dry! The fountains of tears seemed
+shut up, arid and dusty.
+
+“I must make atonement!” I exclaimed. “I must deliver myself up to
+justice!”
+
+“This is madness,” said he, seizing my arm as I was about to leave the
+room.
+
+“No: retribution only! I have destroyed her. I must make the only
+atonement which is in my power. I must die!”
+
+“What you design is none,” he said solemnly. “Your death will atone
+nothing. It is by living only that you can atone!”
+
+“How?”
+
+“By repentance! This is the grand--the only sovereign atonement which
+the spirit of man can ever make. There is no other mode provided in
+nature. The laws, which would take your life, would deprive you of the
+means of atonement. This is due to God; it can be performed only by
+living and suffering. Life is a duty because it is an ordeal. You must
+preserve life, as a sacred trust, for this reason. Even if you were a
+felon--one wilfully resolving and coldly executing crime--you were yet
+bound to preserve life! Throw it away, and though you comply with the
+demand of social laws, you forfeit the only chance of making atonement
+to those which are far superior. Rather pray that life may be spared
+you. It was with this merciful purpose that God not only permitted Cain
+to live, but commanded that none should slay him. You must live for
+this!”
+
+“Yet I slew HER!”
+
+He did with me as he pleased. Three days after beheld us on our way
+to the rich empire of Texas--its plains, rich but barren--unstocked,
+wild-running to waste with its tangled weeds--needing, imploring the
+vigorous hand of cultivation. Even such, at that moment, was my heart!
+Rich in fertile affections, yet gone to waste; waiting, craving, praying
+for the hand of the cultivator!--Yet who now was that cultivator?
+
+To this question the words of Kingsley, which were those of truth and
+wisdom, were a sufficient answer; and evermore an echo arose as from the
+bottom of my soul; and my lips repeated it to my own ears only; and but
+one word was spoken; and that word was--“ATONEMENT!”
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Confession, by W. Gilmore Simms
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