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diff --git a/old/68610-0.txt b/old/68610-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index df88652..0000000 --- a/old/68610-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12666 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Love's labor won, by Mrs. E. D. E. N. -Southworth - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Love's labor won - -Author: Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth - -Release Date: July 25, 2022 [eBook #68610] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Demian Katz, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Images courtesy - of the Digital Library@Villanova University.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE'S LABOR WON *** - - -Transcriber’s Notes: - -Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - -Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end. - - * * * * * - -_No. 81_ - -_NEW SOUTHWORTH LIBRARY_ - -LOVE’S LABOR WON - -[Illustration] - -_by Mrs. E.D.E.N. Southworth_ - - * * * * * - - - - -Love’s Labor Won - - - BY - MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH - - AUTHOR OF - “Retribution,” “Ishmael,” “Self-Raised,” “India,” “The Missing - Bride,” “The Curse of Clifton,” “Vivia,” “The Discarded - Daughter,” “The Lost Heiress,” “The Mother-in-Law,” - “The Deserted Wife.” - - [Illustration] - - STREET & SMITH CORPORATION - PUBLISHERS - 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York - - * * * * * - -(Printed In the United States of America) - - * * * * * - -LOVE’S LABOR WON. - - - - -CHAPTER I. THE IMPROVVISATRICE. - - - “Hers was the spell o’er hearts - That only genius gives; - The mother of the sister Arts, - Where all their beauty lives.” - --VARIED FROM CAMPBELL. - -“Beautiful.” - -“Glorious.” - -“Celestial!” - -Such were the exclamations murmured through the room, in low but -earnest tones. - -“So fair and dark a creature I have never seen,” said the French -ambassador. - -“The rarest and finest features of the blonde and the brunette -combined; look at her hair and brow! It is as if the purple lustre of -Italia’s vines lay upon the snow of Switzerland’s Alps,” said a young -English gentleman, of some twenty years of age, and from whom the air -of the university had scarcely fallen. - -“You are too enthusiastic, Lord William,” gravely observed an elderly -man, in the dress of a clergyman of the Church of England. - -“Too enthusiastic, sir! Ah, now! do but see for yourself, if it be not -profane to gaze at her. Is she not now--what is she? Queenly? Pshaw! I -was, when a boy, at Versailles with my father; I saw Marie Antoinette -and the beautiful princesses of her train; but never, no, never, have -I seen beauty and dignity and grace like this. You have the honor of -knowing the lady, sir?” he concluded, turning abruptly to a member of -the French legation, standing near him. - -“Oh, yes, monsieur, I have that distinction,” said the affable -Parisian, with a bow and smile. - -“And her name is----” - -“Ah, pardon me, monsieur--Mademoiselle Marguerite De Lancie.” - -“Oh! a countrywoman of your own?” - -“Excuse, monsieur--a Virginie.” - -“Ah, ha! Miss De Lancie, of Virginia,” said the young Englishman, who, -having thus ascertained all that he wished to know for the present, -now, with the characteristic and irresponsible bluntness of his nature, -turned his back upon the small Frenchman, and gave himself up to the -contemplation of the lady seated at the harp. - -This conversation occurred in a scene and upon an occasion long to be -remembered. The scene was the saloon of the old Presidential mansion -at Philadelphia. The occasion was that of Mrs. Washington’s last -reception, previous to the final retirement of General Washington from -office. The beauty, talent, fashion and celebrity of the “Republican -Court” were present--heroes of the Revolutionary struggle--warriors, -whose mighty swords had cleft asunder the yoke of foreign despotism; -sages, whose gigantic minds had framed the Constitution of the young -Republic; men whose names were then, as now, of world-wide glory -and time-enduring fame; foreign ministers and ambassadors, with -their suites, all enthusiastic admirers, or politic flatterers of -the glorious New Power that had arisen among the nations; wealthy, -aristocratic or otherwise distinguished tourists, whom the fame of the -young Commonwealth and the glory of her Father had attracted to her -shores; women, also, whose beauty, grace and genius so dazzled the -perceptions of even these late _habitues_ of European courts that they -avowed themselves unable to decide whether were the sons of Columbia -the braver or her daughters the fairer! - -And through them all, but greater than all, moved the Chief, arrayed -simply, as a private gentleman, but wearing on his noble brow that -royalty no crown could give. - -But who is she, that even in this company of splendid magnificence, -upon this occasion of supreme interest, can for an hour become the -magnet of all eyes and ears! - -Marguerite De Lancie was the only child of a Provençal gentleman and a -Virginia lady, and combined in her person and in her character all the -strongest attributes of the Northern and the Southern races; blending -the passions, genius and enthusiasm of the one with the intellectual -power, pride and independence of the other; and contrasting in her -person the luxuriant purplish-black hair and glorious eyes of the -Romaic nations, with the fair, clear complexion and roseate bloom of -the Saxon. Gifted above most women by nature, she was also favored -beyond most ladies by fortune. Having lost her mother in the tender -age of childhood, she was reared and educated by her father, a -gentleman of the most accomplished cultivation. He imbued the mind of -Marguerite with all the purest and loftiest sentiments of liberty and -humanity, that in his country somewhat redeemed the wickedness of the -French Revolution. Monsieur De Lancie, dying when his daughter was -but eighteen years of age, made her his sole heiress, and also, in -accordance with his own liberal and independent principles, and his -confidence in Marguerite’s character and strength of mind, he left her -the irresponsible mistress of her own property and person. Marguerite -was not free from grave faults. A beautiful, gifted and idolized girl, -left with the unrestrained disposal of her time and her ample fortune, -it was impossible but that she must have become somewhat spoiled. Her -defects exhibited themselves in excessive personal pride and extreme -freedom of thought and speech, and some irradicable prejudices which -she took no trouble to conceal. The worshiped of many suitors, she had -remained, up to the age of twenty-two, with her hand unengaged and her -heart untouched. Several American women had about this time married -foreign noblemen; and those who envied this superb woman averred that -the splendid Marguerite only waited for a coronet. - -When at home, Miss De Lancie resided either at her elegant town house -in the old city of Winchester, or upon one of her two plantations, -situate, the upper among the wildest and most beautiful hills of the -Blue Ridge, and the lower upon the banks of the broad Potomac, where -she reigned mistress of her land and people, “queen o’er herself.” - -Marguerite was at present in Philadelphia, on a visit to her friend, -Miss Compton, whose father occupied a “high official station” in -the Administration. This was Miss De Lancie’s first appearance in -Philadelphia society. And now that she was there, Marguerite, with the -constitutional enthusiasm of her nature, forgot herself in the deep -interest of this assembly, where the father of his country met for the -last time, socially, her sons and daughters. - -In accordance with the elegant ease that characterized Mrs. -Washington’s drawing-rooms, several ladies of distinguished musical -taste and talent had varied the entertainment of the evening by -singing, to the accompaniment of the harp, or piano, the national odes -and popular songs of that day. - -Then ensued a short interval, at the close of which Miss De Lancie -permitted herself to be led to the harp by Colonel Compton. She was -a stranger to most persons in that saloon, and it was simply her -appearance as she passed and took her place at the harp that had -elicited that restrained burst of admiration with which this chapter -opens. - -She was, indeed, a woman of superb beauty, which never shone with -richer lustre than upon this occasion that I present her to the reader. - -Her figure was rather above the medium height, but elegantly -proportioned. The stately head arose from a smoothly-rounded neck, -whose every curve and bend was the very perfection of grace and -dignity; lustrous black hair, with brilliant purple lights like the -sheen on the wing of some Oriental bird, was rolled back from a -queenly forehead, and turned over a jeweled comb in a luxuriant fall -of ringlets at the back of her head; black eyebrows distinctly drawn, -and delicately tapering toward the points, were arched above rich, deep -eyes of purplish black, that languished or glowed, rocked or flashed, -from beneath their long lashes with every change of mood; and all -harmonized beautifully with a pure, rich complexion, where the clear -crimson of the cheeks blended softly into the pearly whiteness of the -blue-veined temples and broad forehead, while the full, curved lips -glowed with the deepest, brightest flush of the ruby. She was arrayed -in a royal purple velvet robe, open over a richly-embroidered white -satin skirt; her neck and arms were veiled with fine point lace; and a -single diamond star lighted up the midnight of her hair. - -Having seated herself at the harp and essayed its strings, she paused, -and seemingly unconscious of the many eyes riveted upon her, she -raised her head, and gazing into the far-off distance, threw her -white arm across the instrument, and swept its chords in a deep, -soul-thrilling prelude--not to a national ode or popular song, but -to a spirit-stirring, glorious improvisation! This prelude seemed a -musical paraphrase of the great national struggle and victory. She -struck a few deep, solitary notes, and then swept the harp in a low, -mournful strain, like the first strokes of tyranny, followed by the -earliest murmurs of discontent; then the music, with intervals of -monotone, arose in fitful gusts like the occasional skirmishes that -heralded the Revolution; then the calm was lost in general storm and -devastation--the report of musketry, the tramp of steeds, the clashing -of swords, the thunder of artillery, the fall of walls, the cries -of the wounded, the groans of the dying, and the shouts of victory, -were not only heard, but seen and felt in that magnificent tempest of -harmony. - -Then the voice of the _improvvisatrice_ arose. Her subject was the -retiring chief. I cannot hope to give any idea of the splendor of that -improvisation--as easily might I catch and fix with pen, or pencil, -the magnificent life of an equinoctial storm, the reverberation of its -thunder, the conflagration of its lightning! Possessed of Apollo, the -light glowed upon her cheeks, irradiated her brow, and streamed, as it -were, in visible, living rays from her glorious eyes! The whole power -of the god was upon the woman, and the whole soul of the woman in her -theme. There was not a word spoken, there was scarcely a breath drawn -in that room. She finished amid a charmed silence that lasted until -Colonel Compton appeared and broke the spell by leading her from the -harp. - -Then arose low murmurs of enthusiastic admiration, restrained only by -the deep respect due to the chief personage in that assembly. - -“_La Marguerite des Marguerites!_” said the gallant French _attaché_. - -“A Corinne! I must know her, sir. Will you do me the honor to present -me?” inquired the English student, turning again to the Frenchman. - -“Lord William!” interrupted the clerical companion, with an air of -caution and admonition. - -“Well, Mr. Murray! well! did not my father desire that I should make -the acquaintance of all distinguished Americans?--and surely this lady -must be one of their number.” - -“Humph,” said the clergyman, stroking his chin, “the marquis did not, -probably, include distinguished actresses, Lord William.” - -“Actresses! have you judgment, Mr. Murray? Do but look with what -majesty she speaks and moves!” - -“So I have heard does Mrs. Siddons. Let us withdraw, Lord William.” - -“Not yet, if you please, sir! I must first pay my respects to this -lady. Will you favor me, monsieur?” - -“Pardon! I will make you known to Colonel Compton, who will present -you to the lady under his charge,” said the Frenchman, bowing, and -leading the way, while the clergyman left behind only vented his -dissatisfaction in a few emphatic grunts. - -“Miss De Lancie, permit me to present to you Lord William Daw, of -England,” said Colonel Compton, leading the youthful foreigner before -the lady. - -Miss De Lancie bowed and half arose. She received the young gentleman -coldly, or rather absently, and to all that he advanced she replied -abstractedly; for she had not yet freed herself from the trance that -had lately bound her. - -Nevertheless, Lord William found “grace and favor” in everything the -enchantress said or did. He lingered near her until at last, with a -_congé_ of dismissal to her boyish admirer, she arose and signified her -wish to retire from the saloon. - -The next day but one was a memorable day in Philadelphia. It was the -occasion of the public and final farewell of George Washington and the -inauguration of his successor. From an early hour the city was thronged -with visitors, who came, not so much to witness the installment of the -new, as to take a tearful last look at the deeply-venerated, retiring -President. - -The profound public interest, however, did not prevent Lord William Daw -from pursuing a quite private one. At an hour as early as the laxest -etiquette would permit, he paid his respects to Miss De Lancie at the -house of Colonel Compton, and procured himself to be invited by his -host to join their party in witnessing the interesting ceremonies at -the Hall of Representation. - -The family, consisting of the colonel and Mrs. Compton and their -daughter Cornelia, went in a handsome landeau, or open carriage. - -Miss De Lancie rode a magnificent black charger, that she managed with -the ease of a cavalry officer, and with a grace that was only her own. - -Lord William, on a horse placed at his service by Colonel Compton, -rode ever at her bridle rein; and if he admired her as a gifted -_improvvisatrice_, he adored her as an accomplished _equestrienne_, an -excellence that of the two his young lordship was the best fitted to -appreciate. - -Afterward, in the Hall of Representation, he was ever at her side; -nor could the august ceremonies and the supreme interest of the scene -passing before them, where the first President of the United States -offered his valedictory, and the second President took his oath of -office, win him for a moment from the contemplation of the queenly form -and resplendent face of Marguerite De Lancie. - -When the rites were all over, and their party had extricated themselves -from the outrushing crowd, who were crushing each other nearly to -death in their eagerness to behold the last of the retiring chief; -when they had seen Washington enter his carriage and drive homeward; -in fine, when at last they reached their own door, Lord William Daw -manifested so little inclination to take leave, and even betrayed so -great a desire to remain, that nothing was left Colonel Compton but -to invite the enamored boy to stay and dine, an invitation that was -unhesitatingly accepted. - -Dinner over, and lights brought into the drawing-room, and Lord William -Daw still lingering. - -“Unquestionably, this young man, though a scion of nobility, is -ignorant or regardless of the usages of good society,” said Colonel -Compton to himself. Then addressing the visitor, he said: “The ladies, -sir, are going, this evening, to the new theatre, to see Fennel and -Mrs. Whitlock in Romeo and Juliet. Will it please you to accompany us?” - -“Most happy to do so,” replied the youth, with an ingenuous blush and -smile at what he must have considered a slight departure from the -formal manners of the day, even while unable to resist the temptation -and tear himself away. - -In a few moments, the carriage was at the door, and the ladies ready. - -Miss Compton and Miss De Lancie, Colonel Compton and Lord William Daw, -filled the carriage, as well as they afterward filled the box at the -theatre. - -The play had already commenced when they entered, and the scene in -progress was that of the ball at old Capulet’s house. It seemed to -confine the attention of the audience, but as for Lord William Daw, the -mimic life upon the stage had no more power than had had the real drama -of the morning to draw his attention from the magnificent Marguerite. -He spoke but little; spellbound, his eyes never left her, except when, -in turning her regal head, her eyes encountered his--when, blushing -like a detected schoolboy, he would avert his face. So, for him; the -play passed like a dream; nor did he know it was over until the general -rising of the company informed him. - -Every one was enthusiastic. Colonel Compton, who had been in London -in an official capacity, and had seen Mrs. Siddons, averred it as his -opinion that her sister, Mrs. Whitlock, was in every respect the equal -of the great _tragedienne_. All seemed delighted with the performance -they had just witnessed, excepting only Lord William Daw, who had -seen nothing of it, and Marguerite De Lancie, who seemed perfectly -indifferent. - -“What is your opinion, Miss De Lancie?” inquired the youth, by way of -relieving the awkwardness of his own silence. - -“About what?” asked Marguerite, abstractedly. - -“Ahem!--about--Shakespeare and--this performance.” - -“Oh! Can I be interested in anything of this kind, after what we have -witnessed in the State House to-day? Least of all in this thing?” - -“This thing?--what, Marguerite, do you not worship Shakespeare and Mrs. -Whitlock, then?” exclaimed Cornelia Compton. - -“Mrs. Whitlock? I do not know yet; let me see her in some other -character. Shakespeare? Yes! but not traditionally, imitatively, -blindly, wholly, as most of you worship, or profess to worship him; I -admire his tragedies of Lear, Richard the Third, Macbeth, and perhaps -one or two others; but this Romeo and Juliet, this lovesick boy and -puling girl--bah! bah! let’s go home.” - -“That’s the way with Marguerite! Now I should not have dared to risk my -reputation for intelligence by uttering that sentiment,” said Cornelia -Compton. - -“Never fear, child; naught is never in danger,” observed Colonel -Compton, with good-humored, though severe raillery. - -While Lord William Daw, with the morbid and sensitive egotism of a -lover, inquired of himself: Does she intend that remark for me? Does -she look upon me only in the light of a lovesick boy? Do I only disgust -her, then? Thus tormenting himself until their party had entered the -carriage, and driven back once more to Colonel Compton’s hospitable -mansion, and where his host, inwardly laughing, pressed him to come in -and take a bed and breakfast. - -But the youth, doubtful of the colonel’s seriousness, piqued at his -inamorata’s scornfulness, and ashamed of his own devotedness, declined -the invitation, bowed his adieus, and was about to retire, when Colonel -Compton placed his carriage and servants at Lord William’s disposal, -and besought him to permit them to set him down at his own hotel, a -service that the young gentleman, with some hesitation, accepted. - -In a few days from this, General Washington left Philadelphia for Mount -Vernon. And Colonel Compton, who went out of office with his chief, -broke up his establishment in Philadelphia, and, with his family, set -out for his home in Virginia. - - - - -CHAPTER II. “THE LOVE CHASE.” - - - “----When shines the sun aslant, - The sun may shine and we be cold; - Oh, listen, loving hearts and bold, - Unto my wild romaunt, - Margaret, Margaret!” - --E. B. BROWNING. - -Colonel Compton and family, traveling at leisure in their private -carriage, reached the Blue Ridge on the fifth, and Winchester on the -seventh day of their journey, and went immediately to the fine old -family mansion on the suburbs of the old town, which was comfortably -prepared for the occupancy of the proprietor. - -Miss De Lancie’s elegant house on Loudoun street, under the charge of -an exemplary matron, was also ready for the reception of its mistress; -but Marguerite yielded to the solicitations of her friend Cornelia, and -remained her guest for the present. - -Compton Lodge was somewhat older than the town; it was a substantial -building of gray sandstone, situated in a fine park, shaded with great -forest trees, and inclosed by a stone wall; it had once been a famous -hunting seat, where Lord Fairfax, General Morgan, Major Helphinstine -and other votaries of St. Hubert, “most did congregate;” and even now -it was rather noted for its superior breed of hounds and horses; and -for the great foxhunts that were there got up. - -Marguerite De Lancie liked the old place upon all these accounts, -and sometimes, when the hunting company was very select, she did not -hesitate to join their sylvan sports; and scarcely a hunter there, -even old Lord Fairfax himself, who still, in his age, pursued with -every youthful enthusiasm the pleasures of the chase--acquitted himself -better than did this Diana. - -But now, in March, the hunting season was over, and if Marguerite De -Lancie preferred Compton Lodge to her own house, it was because, after -a long winter in Philadelphia--with the monotony of straight streets -and red brick walls, and the weariness of crowded rooms--the umbrageous -shade of forest trees, the silence and the solitude of nature, with the -company of her sole bosom friend, was most welcome. - -The second morning after their settlement at home, Colonel Compton’s -family were seated around the breakfast table, discussing their coffee, -buckwheat cakes and broiled venison. - -Marguerite’s attention was divided between the conversation at the -table, and the view from the two open windows before her, where rolling -waves of green hills, dappled over with the white and pink blossoms of -peach and cherry trees, now in full bloom, wooed and refreshed the eye. - -Colonel Compton was sipping his coffee and looking over the Winchester -_Republican_, when suddenly he set down his cup and broke into a loud -laugh. - -All looked up. - -“Well, what is the matter?” inquired the comfortable, motherly Mrs. -Compton, without ceasing to butter her buckwheat. - -“Oh! ha, ha, ha, ha,” laughed the colonel. - -“That is a very satisfactory reply, upon my word,” commented the good -woman, covering her cakes with honey. - -“Don’t--don’t--that fellow will be the death of me!” - -“Pleasant prospect to laugh at--that!” said his wife, twisting a -luscious segment of her now well-sauced buckwheat around the fork, -preparatory to lifting it to her lips. - -“Oh! do let us have the joke, if there is a joke, papa,” pleaded -Cornelia. - -“Hem! well, listen, then!” said Colonel Compton, reading: - -“Distinguished arrival at McGuire’s Hotel. Lord William Daw, the second -son of the most noble, the Marquis of Eaglecliff, arrived at this place -last evening. His lordship, accompanied by his tutor, the Rev. Henry -Murray, is now on a tour of the United States, and visits Winchester -for the purpose of becoming acquainted with the history and antiquities -of the town!” - -“That is exceedingly rich! that will quite do!” commented the colonel, -laying down his newspaper, and turning with a comic expression toward -Marguerite. - -She was looking, by the by, in high beauty, though her morning costume -was more picturesque than elegant, and more careless than either, and -consisted simply of a dark chintz wrapper, over which, drawn closely -around her shoulders, was a scarlet crape shawl, in fine contrast -with the lustrous purple sheen of her black hair, one-half of which -was rolled in a careless mass at the nape of her neck, and the other -dropped in rich ringlets down each side of her glowing, brilliant face. - -“Hem! the antiquities of Winchester. I rather suspect it is the -juvenilities that our young antiquarian is in chase of. Pray, Miss De -Lancie, are you one of the antiquities?” - -Marguerite curled her proud lip, erected her head and deigned no other -reply. - -“Unquestionably you also have conquered a title, Marguerite; when you -are married, will you place me on your visiting list, Lady William -Daw?” asked Cornelia Compton, with an arch glance. - -“Cease,” said Marguerite, peremptorily, “if I were to be married, which -is utterly out of the question, it would not be to a schoolboy, let me -assure you!” - -“If you ‘were to be married, which is utterly out of the -question’--why, you don’t mean to tell us that you have forsworn -matrimony, Marguerite? What do you intend to do? go into a cloister? -Nonsense! in nine month you will marry,” said Colonel Compton. - -“I marry? ha! ha! ha! there must be a great improvement in the stock of -men! Where is the unmarried son of Adam that I would deliberately vow -to love, honor and obey? Why I should forswear myself at the altar! Of -all the single men I meet, the refined ones are weak and effeminate, -and the strong ones are coarse and brutal! I’ll none of them!” said -Marguerite, with a shrug of her shoulders. - -“Thank you for making my husband a sort of presumptive exception,” said -Mrs. Compton. - -“Will you call upon Lord William, this morning, papa?” inquired Miss -Compton. - -“My dear, believe me, the opportunity will scarcely be allowed. His -lordship will not stand upon ceremony, I assure you. I expect to hear -his name announced every moment.” - -And then, as in confirmation of Colonel Compton’s predictions, a -servant entered and handed a card. - -“Humph! where have you shown the gentleman, John?” - -“Into the front drawing-room, sir.” - -“Nonsense--bring him in here.” - -The servant bowed and left the room. - -“Such a free and easy visitor is not to be treated with formality. It -is as I foresaw, ladies! Lord William Daw waits to pay his respects.” - -At that moment the door was once more opened, and the visitor announced. - -Lord William Daw was a pleasing, wholesome, rather than a handsome or -distinguished-looking youth--with a short, stout figure, dark eyes and -dark hair, a round rosy face, and white teeth, and an expression full -of good-humor, frank and easy among his friends, and disembarrassed -among strangers to whom he was indifferent, he was yet timid and -bashful as a girl in presence of those whom he admired and honored; -how much more so in the society of her--the beautiful and regal woman -who had won his young heart’s first and deepest worship. With all this -the youngster possessed an indomitable will and power of perseverance, -which, when aroused, few men, or things, could withstand, and which his -messmates at Oxford denominated (your pardon, super-refined reader) an -“English bull-dogish--hold-on-a-tiveness.” - -Lord William entered the breakfast-room, smiling and blushing between -pleasure and embarrassment. - -Colonel Compton arose and advanced, with a cordial smile and extended -hand, to welcome him. “Heartily glad to see you, sir! And here are Mrs. -Compton, and my daughter Cornelia, and my sweetheart, Marguerite, all -waiting to shake hands with you.” - -The ladies arose, and Lord William, set at ease by this friendly -greeting, paid his respects quite pleasingly. - -“And now here is a chair and plate ready for you, for we hope that you -have not breakfasted?” said the host. - -Lord William had breakfasted; but would do so again. So he sat down at -the table and spoiled a cup of coffee and a couple of buckwheat cakes -without deriving much benefit from either. A lively conversation ensued. - -“The history and antiquities of Winchester, sir,” said Colonel -Compton, with a half-suppressed smile, in reply to a question of the -young tourist. “The history is scarcely a hundred years old, and -the antiquities consist mainly of some vestiges of the Shawanee’s -occupancy, and of Washington’s march in the old French and Indian War; -but the society, sir--the society representing the old respectability -of the State may not be unworthy of your attention.” - -Lord William was sure that the society was most worthy of cultivation, -nevertheless, he would like to see those “vestiges” of which his host -spoke. - -“The ladies will take their usual morning ride within an hour or two, -sir, and if you would like to attend them, they will take pleasure in -showing you these monuments.” - -Lord William was again “most happy.” And Colonel Compton rang and -ordered “Ali,” to be brought out saddled for his lordship’s use. - -Within an hour after rising from the table, the riding party, -consisting of Miss Compton, Miss De Lancie, Lord William Daw, and -a groom in attendance, set forth. The lions of Winchester and its -environs were soon exhausted, and the party returned to Compton Lodge -in time for an early dinner. - -Lord William Daw sojourned at Winchester, and became a daily visitor -at Compton Lodge. Colonel Compton, to break the exclusiveness of -his visits to one house, introduced him at large among the gentry -of the neighborhood. And numerous were the tea, card, and cotillion -parties got up for the sole purpose of entertaining the young scion -of nobility, where it was only necessary to secure Miss De Lancie’s -presence in order to ensure his lordship’s dutiful attendance. Mr. -Murray chafed and fretted at what he called his pupil’s consummate -infatuation, and talked of writing home to his father, “the marquis.” -Marguerite scorned, or seemed to scorn, his lordship’s pretensions, -until one morning at breakfast, Colonel Compton, half seriously, half -jestingly, said: - -“Sweetheart, you do not appear to join in the respect universally shown -to this young stranger.” - -“If,” said Marguerite, “the young man had any distinguished personal -excellence, I should not be backward in recognizing it; but he is at -best--Lord William Daw! Now who is Lord William Daw that I should bow -down and worship him?” - -“Lord William Daw, my dear, is the second son of the most noble, -the Marquis of Eaglecliff, as you have already seen announced with -a flourish of editorial trumpets, by our title-despising and very -consistent democratic newspapers! He is heir presumptive, and as -I learn from Mr. Murray, rather more than heir presumptive to his -father’s titles and estates; for it appears that the marquis has been -twice married, and that his eldest son, by his first marchioness, -derives a very feeble constitution from his mother; and it is not -supposed that he will ever marry, or that he will survive his father; -ergo, the hopes of the marquis for re-union rest with his second -son, Lord William Daw; finis, that young nobleman’s devoirs are not -quite beneath the consideration even of a young lady of ‘one of the -first families of Virginia,’ who is besides a belle, a blue, and a -freeholder.” - -“Marguerite, future marchioness of Eaglecliff, when you are married -will your ladyship please to remember one poor Cornelia Compton, who -lived in an old country house near Winchester, and once enjoyed your -favor?” said Miss Compton. - -Marguerite shrugged her shoulders with an expression to the effect that -the future succession of the Marquisate of Eaglecliff was a matter of -no moment to her. - -But from this time, Marguerite’s friends accused her, with uncertain -justice, of showing somewhat more favor to the boyish lover, who might -one day set the coronet of a marchioness upon her brow. When rallied -upon this point, she would reply: - -“There are certainly qualities which I do like in the young man; he is -frank, simple and intelligent, and above all, is perfectly free from -affectation, or pretension of any sort. Upon individual worth alone he -is entitled to polite consideration.” - -There was, perhaps, a slight discrepancy between this opinion and -one formerly delivered by Miss De Lancie; but let that pass; the -last-uttered judgment was probably the most righteous, as growing out -of a longer acquaintance, and longer experience in the merits of the -subject. - -Thus--while Lord William Daw prolonged his stay, and Mr. Murray fumed -and fretted, the months of April, May, and June went by. The first of -July the family of Compton Lodge prepared to commence their summer tour -among the watering, and other places of resort. They left Winchester -about the seventh of the month. - -Lord William Daw had not been invited to join their party, nor had he -manifested inclination to obtrude himself upon their company, nor did -he immediately follow in their train. - -Nevertheless, a few days after their establishment at Berkeley Springs, -Colonel Compton read in the list of arrivals the names of “Lord William -Daw, Rev. Henry Murray, and two servants.” - -Enough! The intimacy between the young nobleman and the Comptons was -renewed at Berkeley. And soon the devotion of his youthful lordship to -the beautiful and gifted Marguerite De Lancie was the theme of every -tongue. To escape this notice, Marguerite withdrew from her party, and -attended by her maid and footman, proceeded to join some acquaintances -at Saratoga. - -In vain! for unluckily Saratoga was as free to one traveler as -to another, provided he could pay. And within the same week of -Marguerite’s settlement at her lodgings, all the manœuvring mammas -and marriageable daughters at the Springs were thrown into a state of -excitement and speculation by the appearance among them of a young -English nobleman, the heir presumptive of a marquisate. - -But alas! it was soon perceived that Lord William had eyes and ears and -heart for none other than the dazzling Miss De Lancie, “la Marguerite -des Marguerites,” as the French minister had called her. - -Miss De Lancie’s manner to her boyish worshiper was rather restraining -and modifying than repulsing or discouraging. And there were those who -did not hesitate to accuse the proud and queenly Marguerite of finished -coquetry. - -To avoid this, the lady next joined a party of friends who were going -to Niagara. - -And of course it was obvious to all that the young English tourist, -traveling only for improvement, must see the great Falls. Consequently, -upon the day after Miss De Lancie’s arrival at the Niagara Hotel, Lord -William Daw led her in to dinner. And once more the “infatuation,” as -they chose to call it, of that young gentleman, became the favorite -subject of gossip. - -A few weeks spent at the Falls brought the last of September, and -Marguerite had promised, upon the first of October, to join her -friends, the Comptons, in New York. - -When Lord William Daw learned that she was soon to leave, half ashamed, -perhaps, of forever following in the train of this disdainful beauty, -he terminated his visit and preceded her eastward. - -But when the stagecoach containing Miss De Lancie and her party drew up -before the city hotel, Lord William, perhaps “to treat resolution,” was -the first person to step from the piazza and welcome her back. - -Colonel Compton and his family were only waiting for Marguerite’s -arrival to proceed southward. The next day but one was fixed for their -departure. But the intervening morning, while the family were alone -in their private parlor, Lord William Daw entered, looking grave and -troubled. - -Colonel Compton arose in some anxiety to welcome him. When he had -greeted the ladies and taken a seat, he said: - -“I have come only to bid you good-by, friends.” - -“I am sorry to hear that! but--you are not going far, or to remain -long, I hope,” said Colonel Compton. - -“I am going back to England, sir,” replied the young man, with a -sorrowful glance at Miss De Lancie, who seemed not quite unmoved. - -“You astonish us, Lord William! Is this not a sudden resolution?” -inquired Mrs. Compton. - -“It is a sudden misfortune, my dear madam! Only this morning have -I received a letter from my father, announcing the dangerous -illness of my dear mother, and urging my instant return by the -first homeward-bound vessel. The _Venture_, Captain Parke, sails -for Liverpool at twelve to-day. I must be on board within two -hours,” replied the young man, in a mournful voice, turning the same -deeply-appealing glance toward Marguerite, whose color slightly paled. - -“We are very sorry to lose you, Lord William, and still sorrier for the -occasion of your leaving us,” said Cornelia Compton. And so said all -the party except--Miss De Lancie. - -Lord William then arose to shake hands with his friends. - -“I wish you a pleasant voyage and a pleasant arrival,” said the colonel. - -“And that you may find your dear mother quite restored to health,” -added Mrs. Compton. - -“Oh, yes, indeed! I hope you will, and that you will soon visit us -again,” said Cornelia. - -Marguerite said nothing. - -“Have you no parting word for me, Miss De Lancie?” inquired the young -man, approaching her, and speaking in a low tone, and with a beseeching -look. - -Marguerite waved her hand. “A good voyage, my lord,” she said. - -He caught that hand and pressed it to his lips and heart, and after a -long, deep gaze into her eyes, he recollected himself, snatched his -hat, bowed to the party, and left the room. - -Colonel Compton, in the true spirit of kindness, arose and followed -with the purpose of attending him to his ship. - -“There’s a coronet slipped through your fingers! Oh, Marguerite! -Marguerite! if I had been in your place I should have secured that -match! For, once married, they couldn’t unmarry us, or bar the -succession, either, and so, in spite of all the reverend tutors and -most noble papas in existence, I should, in time, have worn the coronet -of a marchioness,” said Miss Compton. - -“And you would have done a very unprincipled thing, Cornelia,” replied -her mother, very gravely. - -The blood rushed to Miss De Lancie’s brow and crimsoned her face, as -she arose in haste and withdrew to her own chamber. - -“But, mamma, what do you suppose to have been the cause of Marguerite’s -rejection of Lord William’s addresses?” - -“I think that she had two reasons, either of which would have been all -sufficient to govern her in declining the alliance. The first was, that -Marguerite could never yield her affections to a man who has no other -personal claims upon her esteem than the possession of a good heart and -a fair share of intelligence; the second was, that Miss De Lancie had -too high a sense of honor to bestow her hand on a young gentleman whose -addresses were unsanctioned by his family.” - -The next day Colonel Compton and his party set out for Philadelphia, -where, upon his arrival, he received from Mr. Adams an official -appointment that required his residence in the city of Richmond. And -thither, in the course of the month, he proceeded with his wife and -daughter. - -Miss De Lancie went down to pass the autumn at her own house in -Winchester, where she remained until the first of December, when, -according to promise, she went to Richmond to spend the winter with her -friend Cornelia. - -The Comptons had taken a very commodious house in a fashionable quarter -of the city, and were in the habit of seeing a great deal of company. -It was altogether a very brilliant winter in the new capital of -Virginia. Quite a constellation of beauties and celebrities were there -assembled, but the star of the ascendant was the splendid Marguerite -De Lancie. She was even more beautiful and dazzling than ever; and -she entered with spirit into all the gayeties of the season. Tea and -card parties, dances and masked balls followed each other in quick -succession. - -It was just before Christmas that the belles of the metropolis were -thrown into a state of delightful excitement by the issue of tickets -from the gubernatorial mansion, to a grand ball to be given on the -ensuing New Year’s Eve. Great was the flutter of preparation, and -great the accession of business that flowed in upon the milliners, -mantua-makers and jewelers. - -Miss De Lancie and Miss Compton went out together to select their -dresses for the occasion. I mention this expedition merely to give -you a clew to what I sometimes suspected to be the true motive that -inspired Cornelia Compton’s rather selfish nature, with that caressing -affection she displayed for Marguerite De Lancie. As for Marguerite’s -devotion to Cornelia, it was one of those mysteries, or prophecies of -the human heart, that only the future can explain. Upon this occasion, -when Miss De Lancie ordered a rich, white brocade for her own dress, -she selected a superb pink satin for her friend’s; and when from the -jeweler’s Marguerite’s hereditary diamonds came, set in a new form, -they were accompanied by a pretty set of pearls to adorn the arms and -bosom of Cornelia. Colonel Compton knew nothing of his guest’s costly -presents to his daughter. With a gentleman’s inexperience in such -matters, he supposed that the hundred dollars he had given “Nellie” -for her outfit had covered all the expenses. And when Mrs. Compton, -who better knew the cost of pearls and brocade, made any objection, -Marguerite silenced her by delicately intimating the possibility, that, -under some circumstances, for instance, that of her being treated as a -stranger, she might be capable of withdrawing to a boarding-house. - -The eventful evening of the governor’s ball arrived. The entertainment -was by all conceded to be, what it should have been, the most splendid -affair of the kind that had come off that season. A suite of four -spacious rooms, superbly furnished and adorned, and brilliantly -lighted, were thrown open. In the first, or dressing-room, the ladies -left their cloaks and mantles, and rearranged their toilets. In the -second, Governor Wood stood, surrounded by the most distinguished -civil and military officers of the State, and with his unequaled, -dignified courtesy received his guests. In the third, and most spacious -saloon, where the floor was covered with canvas for dancing, the walls -were lined with mirrors, and festooned with flowers that enriched the -atmosphere with odoriferous perfumes, while from a vine-covered balcony -a military band filled all the air with music. Beyond the saloon, the -last, or supper-room, was elegantly set out. The supper table was quite -a marvel of taste in that department; just above it hung an immensely -large chandelier, with quite a forest of pendant brilliants; its light -fell and was flashed back from a sheet mirror laid upon the center of -a table, and surrounded by a wreath of box-vines and violets, like a -fairy lake within its banks of flowers; on the outer edge of this ring -was a circle of grapes with their leaves and tendrils; while filling -up the other space were exotic flowers and tropical fruits, and every -variety of delicate refreshment in the most beautiful designs. - -The rooms were filled before the late arrival of Colonel Compton and -his party. The ladies paused but a few minutes in the dressing-room to -compose their toilets and draw on their gloves, and then they joined -their escort at the inner door, went in, and were presented to Governor -Wood, and then passed onward to the dancing-saloon, where the music was -sounding and the waltz moving with great vivacity. - -The _entrée_ of our young ladies made quite a sensation. Both were -dressed with exquisite taste. - -Miss Compton wore a rich rose-colored satin robe, the short sleeves and -low corsage of which were trimmed with fine lace, and the skirt open in -front and looped away, with lilies of the valley, from a white sarsenet -petticoat; a wreath of lilies crowned her brown hair, and a necklace -and bracelet of pearls adorned her fair bosom and arms. - -And as for Miss De Lancie, if ever her beauty, elegance and fascination -reached a culminating point, it was upon this occasion. Though her -dress was always perfect, it was not so much what she wore as her -manner of wearing, that made her toilets so generally admired. Upon -this evening her costume was as simple as it was elegant--a rich, white -brocade robe open over a skirt of embroidered white satin, delicate -falls of lace from the low bodice and flowing sleeves, and a light -tiara of diamonds spanning like a rainbow the blackness of her hair. - -As soon as the young ladies were seated, they were surrounded. Miss -Compton accepted an invitation to join the waltzers. - -Miss De Lancie, who never waltzed, remained the center of a charmed -circle, formed of the most distinguished men present, until the -waltzing was over, and the quadrilles were called, where she accepted -the hand of Colonel Randolph for the first set, and yielded her seat to -the wearied Cornelia, who was led thither by her partner to rest. - -It chanced that Miss De Lancie was conducted to the head of the set, -then forming, and that she stood at some little distance, immediately -in front of, and facing the spot where Cornelia sat, so that the -latter, while resting, could witness Marguerite. Now Cornelia very -much admired Miss De Lancie, and thought it appeared graceful and -disinterested to laud the excellencies of her friend, at she would not -have done those of her sister, had she possessed one. So now she tapped -her partner’s hand with her fan, and said: - -“Oh, do but look at Miss De Lancie! Is she not the most beautiful woman -in the room?” - -The gentleman followed the direction of her glance, where Marguerite -was moving like a queen through the dance, and said: - -“Miss De Lancie is certainly the most beautiful woman in the -world--except one,” with a glance, that the vanity of Nellie readily -interpreted. - -The eyes of both turned again upon Marguerite, who was now standing -still in her place waiting for the next quadrille to be called. While -they thus contemplated her in all her splendid beauty, set off by a -toilet the most elegant in the room, Marguerite suddenly gave a violent -start, shivered through all her frame and bent anxiously to listen to -something that was passing between two gentlemen, who were conversing -in a low tone, near her. She grew paler and paler as she listened, and -then with a stifled shriek, she fell to the floor, ere any one could -spring to save her. - -Cornelia flew to her friend’s relief. She was already raised in the -arms of Colonel Randolph, and surrounded by ladies anxiously proffering -vinaigrettes and fans, while their partners rushed after glasses of -water. - -“Bring her into the dressing-room, at once, Randolph,” said Colonel -Compton, as he joined the group. - -Accordingly Miss De Lancie was conveyed thither, and laid upon a -lounge, where every restorative at hand was used in succession, and in -vain. More than an hour passed, while she lay in that deathlike swoon; -and when at last the efforts of an experienced physician were crowned -with thus much success, that she opened her dimmed eyes and unclosed -her blanched lips, it was only to utter one word--“Lost”--and to -relapse into insensibility. - -She was put into the carriage and conveyed home, accompanied by her -wondering friends and attended by the perplexed physician. She was -immediately undressed and placed in bed, where she lay all night, -vibrating between stupor and a low muttering delirium, in which some -irreparable misfortune was indicated without being revealed--was it all -delirium? - -Next, a low, nervous fever supervened, and for six weeks Marguerite -De Lancie swayed with a slow, pendulous uncertainty between life and -death. The cause of her sudden indisposition remained a mystery. The -few cautious inquiries made by Colonel Compton resulted in nothing -satisfactory. The two gentlemen whose conversation was supposed by -Miss Compton to have occasioned Miss De Lancie’s swoon could not be -identified--among the crowd then assembled at the governor’s reception, -and now dispersed all over the city--without urging investigation to an -indiscreet extent. - -“This is an inquiry that we cannot with propriety push, Nellie. We must -await the issue of Miss De Lancie’s illness. If she recovers she will -doubtless explain,” said Colonel Compton. - -With the opening of the spring, Marguerite De Lancie’s life-powers -rallied and convalescence declared itself. In the first stages of her -recovery, while yet body and mind were in that feeble state which -sometimes leaves the spiritual vision so clear, she lay one day, -contemplating her friend, who sat by her pillow, when suddenly she -threw her arms around Cornelia’s neck, lifted her eyes in an agony of -supplication to her face, and cried: - -“Oh, Nellie! do you truly love me? Oh, Nellie! love me! love me! lest I -go mad!” - -In reply, Cornelia half smothered the invalid with caresses and kisses, -and assurances of unchanging affection. - -“Oh, Nellie, Nellie! there was one who on the eve of the bitterest -trial, said to his chosen friends, ‘All ye shall be offended because of -me.’ And his chief friend said, ‘Although all should be offended yet -will not I,’ and furthermore declared, ‘if I should die with thee, I -will not deny thee in any wise.’ Oh! failing human strength! Oh! feeble -human love! Nellie! you know how it ended. ‘They all forsook him and -fled.’” - -“But I will be truer to my friend than Peter to his master,” replied -Cornelia. - -Marguerite drew the girl’s face down closer to her own, gazed -wistfully, not into but upon those brilliant, superficial brown eyes, -that because they had no depth repelled her confidence, and then with -a deep groan and a mournful shake of the head, she released Nellie, -and turned her own face to the wall. Did she deem Miss Compton’s -friendship less profound than pretentious? I do not know; but from -that time Miss De Lancie maintained, upon one subject at least, a -stern reserve. And when, at last, directly, though most kindly and -respectfully, questioned as to the origin of her agitation and swoon in -the ball-room, she declared it to have been a symptom of approaching -illness, and discouraged further interrogation. - -Slowly Marguerite De Lancie regained her strength. It was the middle of -March before she left her bed, and the first of April before she went -out of the house. - -One day about this time, as the two friends were sitting together in -Marguerite’s chamber, Cornelia said: - -“There is a circumstance that I think I ought to have told you before -now, Marguerite. But we read of it only a few days after you were taken -ill, and when you were not in a condition to be told of it.” - -“Well, what circumstance was that?” asked Miss De Lancie, indifferently. - -“It was a fatal accident that happened to one of our friends. No, now! -don’t get alarmed--it was to no particular friend,” said Cornelia, -interrupting herself upon seeing Marguerite’s very lips grow white. - -“Well! what was it?” questioned the latter. - -“Why, then, you must know that the _Venture_, in which Lord William Daw -sailed, was wrecked off the coast of Cornwall, and Lord William and Mr. -Murray were among the lost. We read the whole account of it, copied -from an English paper into the Richmond _Standard_. Lord William’s body -was washed ashore, the same night of the wreck.” - -“Poor young man, he deserved a better fate,” said Marguerite. - -Miss De Lancie went no more into society that season; indeed, the -season was well over before she was able to go out. She announced -her intention, as soon as the state of her health should permit her -to travel, to terminate her visit to Richmond, and go down to her -plantation on the banks of the Potomac. Cornelia would gladly have -attended her friend, and only waited permission to do so; but the -waited invitation was not extended, and Marguerite prepared to set out -alone. - -“We shall meet you at Berkeley or at Saratoga, this summer?” said -Cornelia. - -“Perhaps--I do not yet know--my plans for the summer are not arranged,” -said Marguerite. - -“But you will write as soon as you reach home?” - -“Yes--certainly,” pressing her parting kiss upon the lips of her friend. - -The promised letter, announcing Marguerite’s safe arrival at Plover’s -Point, was received; but it was the last that came thence; for though -Cornelia promptly replied to it, she received no second one. And though -Cornelia wrote again and again, her letters remained unanswered. Weeks -passed into months and brought midsummer. Colonel Compton with his -family went to Saratoga, but without meeting Miss De Lancie. About the -middle of August they came to Berkeley; but failed to see, or to hear -any tidings of their friend. - -“Indeed, I am very much afraid that Marguerite may be lying ill at -Plover’s Point, surrounded only by ignorant servants who cannot write -to inform us,” said Cornelia, advancing a probability so striking and -so alarming, that Colonel Compton, immediately after taking his family -back to Richmond, set out for Plover’s Point to ascertain the state of -the case in question. But when he arrived at the plantation, great was -his surprise to learn that Miss De Lancie had left home for New York, -as early as the middle of April, and had not since been heard from. And -this was the last of September. With this information, Colonel Compton -returned to Richmond. Extreme was the astonishment of the family upon -hearing this; and when month after month passed, and no tidings of the -missing one arrived, and no clew to her retreat, or to her fate was -gained, the grief and dismay of her friends could only be equaled by -the wonder and conjecture of society at large, upon the strange subject -of Marguerite De Lancie’s disappearance. - - - - -CHAPTER III. THE FUGITIVE BELLE. - - - “What’s become of ‘Marguerite’ - Since she gave us all the slip-- - Chose land travel, or sea faring, - Box and trunk, or staff and scrip, - Rather than pace up and down - Any longer this old town? - Who’d have guessed it from her lip, - Or her brow’s accustomed bearing, - On the night she thus took ship, - Or started landward, little caring?” - --BROWNING. - -Christmas approached, and the gay belles of Richmond were preparing for -the festivities of that season. - -Colonel Compton with his family and a few chosen friends went down to -Compton Lodge to spend the holidays in country hospitalities, hunting, -etc. - -The party had been there but a few days, when, on Christmas morning, -while the family and their guests were assembled in the old, -oak-paneled, front parlor, before breakfast, and Colonel Compton was -standing at a side table, presiding over an immense old family punch -bowl, from which he ladled out goblets of frothy eggnog to the company, -the door was quietly opened, and without announcement Marguerite De -Lancie entered, saying, “A merry Christmas! friends.” - -“Marguerite! Marguerite!” exclaimed--first Cornelia, and then all the -young ladies that were present, pressing forward to meet her, while the -matrons and the gentlemen of the party, with less vehemence but equal -cordiality, waited to welcome her. - -“My lost sweetheart, by all that’s amazing!” cried Colonel Compton, -who, in his engrossment, was the very last to discover the arrival. - -“Why, where upon the face of the earth did you come from?” inquired -Cornelia, scarcely restrained by the presence of others from seizing -and covering her friend with caresses. - -“From Loudoun street,” answered Miss De Lancie gayly, as she shook -hands right and left. - -“From Loudoun street? that will do! How long have you been in Loudoun -street, sweetheart? You were not there when we passed through the town -in coming hither.” said Colonel Compton. - -“I arrived only the day before yesterday, rested a day, and hearing -that you were at the Lodge, came hither, this morning, to breakfast -with you.” - -“Enchanted to see you, my dear! truly so! But--you arrived the day -before yesterday--whence?” - -“I may be mistaken, yet it seems to me that Colonel Compton’s asking -questions,” said Marguerite, with good-humored sarcasm. - -“Oh! ah! I beg pardon, ten thousand pardons, as the French say,” -replied Colonel Compton, bowing with much deprecation, and then raising -a bumper of eggnog. “To our reconciliation, Miss De Lancie,” he -continued, offering to her the first, and filling for himself a second -goblet. - -“_Paix à vous_,” said Marguerite, pledging him. - -“And now to breakfast--_sortez, sortez_!” exclaimed the Colonel, -leading the way to the dining-room. - -Cornelia was, to use her own expression, “dying” to be alone with -Marguerite, to hear the history of the last seven months absence. Never -before was she more impatient over the progress of a meal, never before -seemed the epicureanism of old folks so tedious, or the appetites of -young people so unbecoming; notwithstanding which the coffee, tea -and chocolate, the waffles, rolls and corn pone, the fresh venison, -ham, and partridges were enjoyed by the company with equal gusto and -deliberation. - -“At last!” exclaimed Cornelia, as rising from the table, she took -Marguerite’s hand and drew her stealthily away through the crowd, and -up the back stairs to her own little bedchamber, where a cheerful fire -was burning. - -“Now, then, tell me all about it, Marguerite,” she said, putting her -friend into her easy-chair of state before the fire, and seating -herself on a stool at her feet. “Where have you been?” - -“Gypsying,” answered Miss De Lancie. - -“Gypsying; oh, nonsense, that is no answer. What have you been about?” - -“Gypsying,” repeated Marguerite. - -“Gypsying!” exclaimed Cornelia, now in wonder. - -“Aye! Did you never--or have you too little life ever to feel like -spreading your wings and flying away, away from all human ken--to feel -the perfect liberty of loneliness, as only an irresponsible stranger in -a strange place can feel it!” - -“No, no! I never did,” said Cornelia, amazed; “but, tell me then where -did you go from Plover’s Point.” - -“To Tierra-del-Fuego, or the Land of Fire,” said Marguerite, with a deep -flush. - -“Fiddlesticks! Where did you come from last to Winchester?” - -“From Iceland,” said Marguerite, with a shiver. - -“Oh, pshaw! you are making fun of me, Marguerite!” - -“My dear, if I felt obliged to give an account of my wanderings, their -wild liberty would not seem half so sweet. Even my property agent shall -not always know where to find me; it is enough that I know where to -find him when he is wanted,” said Miss De Lancie, with such a dash of -hauteur that Cornelia dropped the subject. And then Marguerite, to -compensate for her passing severity, tenderly embraced Nellie. - -The Christmas party at Compton Lodge lasted until after New Year, and -then the family and their friends returned to Richmond. - -Miss De Lancie, yielding to a pressing invitation, accompanied them. -And in town, Marguerite had again to run the gantlet of questions from -her acquaintances, such as: - -“Where have you been so long, Marguerite?” To which she would answer: - -“To Obdorskoi on the sea of Obe,” or some such absurdity, until at last -all inquiry ceased. - -Miss De Lancie resumed her high position in society, and was once -more the bright, particular star of every saloon. Those who envied, -or disliked her, thought the dazzling Marguerite somewhat changed; -that the fine, oval face was thinned and sharpened; the brilliant and -changeful complexion fixed and deepened with a flush that looked like -fever; and the ever-varying graceful, glowing vivacity rather fitful -and eccentric. However, envious criticism did not prevent the most -desirable _partis_ in the city becoming suitors for the hand of the -belle, muse and heiress, as she was still called. But Marguerite, in -her old spirit of sarcasm, laughed all these overtures to scorn, and -remained faithful to her sole attachment, her inexplicable love for -Cornelia. - -“I am twenty-four, I shall never marry, Nellie. I wish I were sure -that you would never do so either, that we might be sisters for life, -and that when your dear parents are gathered to their fathers, you -might come and live with me, and we might be all in all to each other, -forever,” said Marguerite, one day, to her friend. - -“Oh, Marguerite, if that will make you happy, I will promise you -faithfully never, never to marry, but to be your own dear, little -Nellie forever and ever; for indeed why should I not? I love no one in -the world but my parents and you!” - -Will it be credited (even although we know that such compacts are -sometimes made and always broken) that these two girls entered into a -solemn engagement never to marry; but to live for each other only? - -From the day of this singular treaty, Marguerite De Lancie grew fonder -than ever of her friend, lavished endearments upon her, calling -Cornelia her Consolation, her Hope, her Star, and many other pet or -poetic names besides. Nevertheless, when the fashionable season was -over, Miss De Lancie left town without taking her “Consolation” with -her. And again for a few months Marguerite was among the missing. She -was not one to disappear with impunity or without inquiry. Where was -she? Not at either of her own seats, nor at either of the watering -places, not, as far as her most intimate friends and acquaintances -knew, at New York, Philadelphia or Richmond, for her arrival at either -of these places would have been chronicled by some one interested. -Where was she, then? No one could answer; even her bosom friend, -Cornelia Compton, could only reply, “Gone gypsying, I suppose.” - -Again seven months rolled by, while the brightest star of fashion -remained in eclipse. - -Again a Christmas party was assembled at Compton Lodge, when the news -of Miss De Lancie’s arrival at her house on Loudoun street reached them. - -Colonel and Mrs. Compton waited some days for her call, and then not -having received it, they went to visit her at her home. They found -Marguerite, as ever, gay, witty and sarcastic. She told them in answer -to their friendly inquiries that she had been “at Seringapatam,” and -gave them no further satisfaction. She accepted the invitation to -join the Christmas party at Compton Lodge, went thither the same day, -and as always before, distinguished herself as the most brilliant -conversationalist, the most accomplished musician, the most graceful -dancer, and the most fearless rider of the set. At the breaking up of -the company, however, though invited and pressed to return with the -Comptons to Richmond, she steadily declined doing so, alleging the -necessity of visiting her plantation. - -Therefore the Comptons returned to Richmond without their usual guest, -and Cornelia, for the first time in many years, spent the whole winter -in town without Marguerite. But if Miss Compton was bereaved of her -friend, she was also freed from her mistress, and entered with much -more levity into all the gayeties of the season than she ever had done -in the restraining companionship of Marguerite De Lancie. - -Meantime Marguerite, in her wild and lonely home on the wooded banks -of the great Potomac, lived a strange and dreamy life, taking long, -solitary rides through the deep forests, and among the rocky hills -and glens that rolled ruggedly westward of the river; or taking long -walks up and down the lonely beach; wiled away to double some distant -headland, or explore some unfrequented creek--or pausing lazily, -dreamily to watch the flash and dip of the fish in the river, the dusky -flight of the water fowl, or the course of a distant sail; getting -home late in the afternoon to meet a respectful remonstrance from the -elderly gentlewoman who officiated as her housekeeper, and a downright -motherly scolding from her old black nurse, aunt Hapzibah, who never -saw in the world’s magnificent Marguerite any other than the beautiful, -wayward child she had tended from babyhood; or giving audience to the -overseer, who, spreading the farm book before her, would enter into -long details of the purchase or sale of stock, crops, etc., not one -word of which Marguerite heard or understood, yet which she would at -the close of the interview indorse by saying, “All right, Mr. Hayhurst, -you are an admirable manager”--leaving her friends only to hope that he -might be an honest man. - -But one circumstance seemed to have power to arouse Miss De Lancie’s -interest--the arrival of the weekly mail at Seaview, the nearest -village. All day, from the moment the messenger departed in the -morning until he came back at night, Marguerite lingered in the -house, or mounted her horse and rode in the direction from which the -messenger was expected--or returned if it were dark, and waited with -ill-concealed anxiety for his arrival. Upon one occasion, the mail -seemed to have brought her news as terrible as it was mysterious. Upon -opening a certain letter she grew deathly pale, struggled visibly to -sustain herself against an inclination to swoon, read the contents to -the close, threw the letter into the fire, rang and ordered horses and -a servant to attend her, and the same night set out from home, and -never drew rein until she reached Bellevue, when sending her horses -back by her servant, she took a packet for New York. - -She was absent six weeks, at the end of which time she returned home, -looking worn and exhausted, yet relieved and cheerful. She found two -letters from Cornelia awaiting her; the first one, after much preface, -apology and explanation, announced the fact that a suitor, Colonel -Houston, of Northumberland, in all respects very acceptable to her -parents, had presented himself to Cornelia, and that, but for the -mutual pledge existing between herself and Marguerite, she might be -induced to please her parents by listening to his addresses. Marguerite -De Lancie pondered long and gravely over this letter; re-read it, and -looked graver than before. Then she opened the second letter, which -was dated three weeks later, and seemed to have been written under the -impression that the first one, remaining unanswered, had been received, -and had given offense to Marguerite. This last was a long, sentimental -epistle, declaring firstly, that she, Cornelia, would not break her -“rash” promise to Marguerite, but pleading the wishes of her parents, -the approbation of her friends, the merits of her suitor, and in short -everything except the true and governing motive, her own inclinations. - -Miss De Lancie read this second letter with impatience; at the close -threw it into the fire; drew her writing-desk toward her, took pen -and paper, and answered both long epistles in one--a miracle of -brevity--thus, “dear Nellie--tut--Marguerite,” and sealed and sent it -off. - -Apparently, Cornelia did not find this answer as clear as it was brief. -She wrote in reply a long, heroic epistle of eight pages, announcing -her willingness to sacrifice her parents’ wishes, her friends’ -approval, her lover’s happiness, and her own peace of mind, all to -fidelity and Marguerite, if the latter required the offering! - -Marguerite read this letter with more impatience than the others, and -drawing a sheet of paper before her, wrote, “Nellie! Do as you like, -else I’ll make you--Marguerite.” - -In two weeks back came the answer, a pleading, crying letter, of twelve -pages, the pith of which was that Nellie would do only as Marguerite -liked, and that she wanted more explicit directions. - -“Pish! tush! pshaw!” exclaimed Miss De Lancie, tapping her foot -with impatience, as she read page after page of all this twaddle, -and finally casting the whole into the fire, she took her pen and -wrote, “Cornelia! marry Colonel Houston forthwith before I compel -you--Marguerite.” - -A few days from the dispatch of this letter arrived the answer, brought -by an express-mounted messenger in advance of the mail. It was a thick -packet of many closely-written pages, the concentrated essence of which -was that Nellie would follow the advice of Marguerite, whom she loved -and honored more than any one else in the world, yes, more than mother -and father and lover together; that Marguerite must never wrong her -by doubting this, or above all, by being jealous of the colonel, for -indeed, after all, Nellie did not like him inordinately; how could she -when he was a widower past thirty with two children? And finally, that -she would not venture to ask Miss De Lancie to be her bridesmaid, for -that would be like requesting a queen to attend her maid of honor in -such a capacity; but would Marguerite, her dear Lady Marguerite, come -and preside over the marriage of her poor little Nellie? - -Miss De Lancie sat, for a long time, holding this letter open in her -hand, moralizing upon its contents. “The little simpleton--is she only -timid, or is she insincere? which after all means--is she weak or -wicked? foolish or knavish? And above all, why am I fond of her? why -have her brown eyes and her cut of countenance such power to draw and -knit my heart to hers?--for indeed though to superficial eyes, hers may -be a countenance resplendent with feeling, strong in thought, yet it is -a cheat, without depth, without earnestness--let it be said!--without -soul. Ay, truly! seeing all this, why do I love her? Because of the -‘strong necessity of loving’ somebody, or something, I suppose,” -thought Marguerite, sinking deeper into reverie. These sparks of light -elicited by the strokes of Cornelia’s steel-like policy upon the -flint of Marguerite’s sound integrity, thus revealed, by flashes, the -true character of the former to the latter; but the effect was always -transient, passing away with the cause. - -Miss De Lancie took up the letter and re-read it, with comments as--“I -jealous of her lover! truly! I preside over her marriage! Come, I must -answer that!” And drawing writing materials before her, she wrote, -briefly as before. - -“I would see you in Gehenna first, you little imbecile. Marguerite.” - -And sealed and dispatched the letter. - -This brought Nellie down in person to Plover’s Point, where by dint of -caressing, and coaxing, and weeping, she prevailed with Marguerite, who -at last exclaimed: - -“Well, well! go home and prepare for your wedding, Nellie! I’ll come -and assist at the farce.” - - - - -CHAPTER IV. LOVE. - - - “----The soul that moment caught - A something it through life had sought.” - --MOORE. - - “Forbear that dream! My lips are sworn apart - From tender words; mine ears from lover’s vows; - Mine eyes from sights God made so beautiful; - My very heart from feelings which move soft.” - --E. B. BROWNING. - -The bridal of the only daughter of the Comptons was naturally an event -of great importance, and consequently of much parade. The bride-elect -was in favor of being married in the most approved modern style, having -the ceremony performed at ten in the morning, and starting immediately -upon a wedding tour. But Colonel and Mrs. Compton had some strong, -old-fashioned predilections, and decided to have the time-honored, old -style of marriage party in the evening. And accordingly preparations -were made upon the grandest scale to do honor to the nuptials of their -only child. - -Marguerite De Lancie arrived upon the evening previous to the wedding, -and was most cordially welcomed by the family. She was carried off -immediately by Cornelia to her chamber for a _tête-à-tête_. - -“Well, my little incapable!” Marguerite said, as soon as she was -seated, “now tell me about your bridegroom! Long ago, you know, we -divided the present generation of men into two classes--monsters and -imbeciles; to which does your _fiancé_ belong?” - -“You shall see and judge for yourself, Marguerite! To neither, I think!” - -“Oh! of course, you think! Well! who are to be your bridesmaids?” - -“The Misses Davidge and--yourself, dear Marguerite, since you were so -kind as to promise.” - -“So weak, you mean! And who are to be groomsmen?” - -“Steve and Peyton Rutlidge are to lead out the Davidges.” - -“And who is to be my cavalier for the occasion?” - -“There! that’s just what I wanted to talk to you about, Marguerite! -because you have the privilege of rejecting him as your proposed -escort, and I hope you will. I am afraid of him; I always was! I cannot -endure him; I never could! I hate him, and I always did! But the -colonel proposed him, and papa and mamma would not permit me to object.” - -“But you have not yet told me who he is.” - -“Oh, you would not know if I were to tell you! though if you ever see -him, you will never fail to know him thenceforth!” - -“His name? You’ve raised my curiosity.” - -“Philip Helmstedt, my cousin! He is of those fierce and haughty -Helmstedts of the Eastern Shore, whose forefathers, you know, claimed -a prior right to the coast and the Isles of the Bay, from having made -the place a sort of freebooting depot, long before the king’s patent -endowed Lord Baltimore with it, and who headed so many rebellions and -caused so much bloodshed among the early colonists.” - -“Well, nearly two hundred years have rolled by. This fierce, arrogant -nature must have been greatly modified by time and intermarriage.” - -“Must it. Well, now, it is my opinion that no one who knows the -history can look upon Philip Helmstedt’s bird-of-prey profile without -remembering the fierce fights by sea and land of his freebooting -forefathers.” - -“It is doubtless true that a strong and powerful race of men may have -so impressed upon their descendants as to leave their own peculiar -traits unmodified and predominant to the latest generations,” said -Marguerite, musing; and then, suddenly recollecting herself, she -exclaimed: “Philip Helmstedt! surely I have heard that name in -honorable association before, though I have never met the owner. Oh! -by the way, is he not that gallant nephew, of whom I have heard your -father speak, and who, though but thirteen years of age, followed him -in the battle of Yorktown and performed such prodigies of youthful -valor?” - -“Oh, yes! he’s fire-eater enough, and a terror in general, at least to -me.” - -“But where has he been that I have never met him in society?” - -“Oh! he has been for a number of years studying at Heidelburg, and -traveling all over the Eastern Continent. I was sufficiently afraid of -him before he went away, and I am twice as much in awe of him since he -came back; so I want you to veto him, Marguerite; for you may do so, -and then the colonel will get somebody else to stand up in his stead. -Will you?” - -“Certainly not. It would be a very great rudeness to all concerned,” -said Miss De Lancie. - -The preparations for the marriage were, as I said, upon a magnificent -scale. The _élite_ of the city and county were invited to be present. -Upon the important evening the house was illuminated and thrown open. -At a comparatively early hour the company began to assemble. - -At a quarter to eight o’clock precisely, the bride and her maids were -ready to go down. - -Nellie looked, as all brides are expected to look, “never before so -lovely.” A robe of embroidered white crape over white satin, a point -lace veil, and a light wreath of orange blossoms, were the principal -items of her costume. - -The two younger bridesmaids were attired in harmony in white gauze -over white silk, with wreaths of snowdrops around their hair. - -The queenly form of Marguerite De Lancie was arrayed in a robe of the -richest lace over white brocade; her superb black hair was crowned with -a wreath of lilies, deep falls of the finest lace veiled her noble bust -and arms, and the purest Oriental pearls adorned her neck and wrists; -she looked as ever, a royal beauty. - -Scarcely was the last fold of Cornelia’s veil gracefully arranged -by Marguerite, before the little bride, with a mixture of childish -petulance and envy and genuine admiration, raised her eyes to the -beautiful brow of her patroness, and said: - -“Ah! how stately, how radiant you are, Marguerite! But how shall I -look, poor, insignificant, little, fady pigmy! my very bridegroom will -be ashamed of his choice, seen by the side of the magnificent Miss De -Lancie!” - -“Be silent! How dare you humble yourself, or flatter me so shamefully!” -exclaimed Marguerite, flushing with indignation. “As for the -‘magnificent,’ that can be easily transferred; ‘fine feathers make fine -birds,’ and queenly jewels go very far toward making queenly women,” -she continued, proceeding to unclasp the pearls from her own neck and -arms, and to fasten them upon those of Cornelia. - -“No, no, dear Marguerite, desist! I cannot, indeed. I cannot consent to -shine in borrowed jewels,” said Miss Compton, opposing this ornamental -addition to her costume. - -“They are your own; wear them for my sake, sweet Nellie,” replied Miss -De Lancie; clasping the necklace and kissing the bride with renewed -tenderness. - -“But your matchless set of pearls! a dower, a fortune in themselves! I -cannot, Marguerite! Indeed, indeed, I dare not! Such a transfer would -look as if you were not quite sane, nor myself quite honest,” said -Cornelia, with sincere earnestness. - -“Ridiculous! I care not for them, or, I assure you, I should not give -them away. Hush! don’t put me to the trouble of pressing them upon -you, for really I do not consider them worth the expenditure of so -much breath. Stop! don’t thank me, either, for I have no patience to -listen. We are all ready, I believe? What are we waiting for?” - -While she spoke, there came a gentle rap at the connecting door between -Cornelia’s and her parents’ bedchambers. It was Colonel and Mrs. -Compton, who were waiting there to embrace and bless their child before -giving her up to the possession of another. Cornelia went in to them, -and after a stay of five minutes, returned with her eyes suffused with -tears, evanescent tears that quickly evaporated. And in another moment -Colonel Compton came to the passage door and announced to the bevy of -bridesmaids that the bishop had arrived, and that the bridegroom and -his attendants were waiting downstairs. - -“We are ready. But remember, colonel, that I have never met Mr. -Helmstedt.” - -“I shall not fail to present him, Marguerite,” replied the old -gentleman, turning to go downstairs. The bride’s party followed in -due order; the third bridesmaid, leading the way, received the arm of -her appointed escort, and advanced toward the saloon; the second did -likewise; then Marguerite, in her turn, descended. She had never before -seen the distinguished-looking personage, then waiting at the foot -of the stairs to offer his arm and lead her on; but Colonel Compton -stood ready to present him and all was well. Marguerite reached the -last step, paused, and raised her eyes to look at the stranger, whom -Cornelia’s description had invested with a certain interest. - -A tall, thin, muscular form, large, clearly cut aquiline features, -raven-black hair, strongly marked black eyebrows, deep and piercing -dark grey eyes, a stern and somewhat melancholy countenance, a stately, -not to say haughty, carriage, a style of dress careful even to nicety, -_a tout ensemble_ indicating a forcible, fiery, high-toned, somewhat -arrogant character, were the features impressed by first sight upon -Marguerite’s perceptions. She had scarcely made these observations and -withdrawn her glance, when Colonel Compton, taking the stranger’s hand -and turning to her, said: - -“Miss De Lancie, permit me to present to you Mr. Helmstedt, of -Northumberland County.” - -Again Marguerite lifted her eyes. - -A stately bow, a gracious smile, a mellifluous voice in addressing -her, threw a charm, a warm, bright glow, like a sudden sunburst over -those stern, dark features, clothing them with an indescribable beauty -as fascinating as it was unexpected. - -“I esteem myself most happy in meeting Miss De Lancie,” he said. - -Marguerite dropped her eyes, and blushed deeply beneath his fixed, -though deferential gaze, curtseyed in silence, received his offered arm -and followed the others, who were waiting at the door. The bride and -groom brought up the rear. And the party entered the saloon. - -The rooms were superbly adorned, brilliantly illuminated, and densely -crowded by a splendid company. - -The white-gowned bishop stood upon the rug in front of the fireplace, -facing the assembly. A space had been left clear before him, upon which -the bridal party formed. A hushed silence filled the room; the book was -opened; the rites commenced, and in ten minutes after little Nellie -Compton was transmogrified into Mrs. Colonel Houston. - -When the congratulations were all over, and the bridal party seated, -and the little embarrassments attendant upon all these movements -well over, the programme for the remainder of the evening proceeded -according to all the “rules and regulations in such cases made and -provided”--with one memorable exception. - -When the bride’s cake (which was quite a miraculous _chef-d’œuvre_ of -the confectioner’s art, being made in the form of the temple of Hymen, -highly ornate, and containing besides a costly diamond ring, which it -was supposed, according to the popular superstition, would indicate -the happy finder as the next to be wedded of the party), was cut and -served to all the single ladies present, it was soon discovered that -none of them had drawn the token. Colonel Compton then declared that -the unmarried gentlemen should try their fortune. And when they were -all served, Mr. Helmstedt proved to be the fortunate possessor of the -costly talisman. - -When, with a courtly dignity, he had arrested the storm of badinage -that was ready to burst upon him, he deliberately crossed the room to -the quarter where the bride and her attendants remained seated, and -pausing before Marguerite, said: - -“Miss De Lancie, permit me,” and offered the ring. - -“Yes, yes, Marguerite! relieve him of it! He cannot wear it himself, -you know, and to whom here could he properly offer it but to yourself,” -hastily whispered Cornelia. - -Miss De Lancie hesitated, but unwilling to draw attention by making a -scene out of such an apparent trifle, she smiled, drew off her glove, -and held up her hand, saying, - -“If Mr. Helmstedt will put it on.” - -Philip Helmstedt slipped the ring on her finger, turned and adjusted it -with a slight pressure, when Marguerite, with a half-suppressed cry, -snatched away her hand and applied her handkerchief to it. - -“Have I been so awkward and unhappy as to hurt you, Miss De Lancie?” -inquired Mr. Helmstedt. - -“Oh, no, not at all! it is nothing to speak of; a sharp flaw in the -setting of the stones pierced my finger; I think that is all,” answered -Marguerite, drawing off the ring that was stained with blood. - -Mr. Helmstedt took the jewel, walked up to the fireplace, and threw it -into the glowing coals. - -“Well! if that is not the most wanton piece of destructiveness I ever -saw in my life,” said Cornelia, indignantly; “you know, Marguerite, -when I saw Mr. Helmstedt draw the ring and come and put it on your -finger, I thought it was a happy sign; but now see how it is? -everything that man touches, turns--not to gold, but to blood or tears, -that he thinks only can be dried in the fire!” - -“Don’t use such fearful words here on your bridal evening, dear Nellie, -they are ill-omened. You are, besides, unjust to Mr. Helmstedt, I -think,” said Marguerite, who had now quite recovered her composure. - -“They were false diamonds after all, Miss De Lancie,” said Mr. -Helmstedt, rejoining the ladies. - -The bishop had retired from the room; the musicians had entered and -taken their places, and were now playing a lively prelude to the -quadrilles; partners were engaged, and were only waiting for the bride -and groom to open the ball, as was then the custom. Nellie gave her -hand to her colonel, and suffered herself to be led to the head of the -set. - -“Miss De Lancie, will you honor me?” inquired Mr. Helmstedt, and -receiving a gracious inclination of the head in acquiescence, he -conducted Marguerite to a position _vis-à-vis_ with the bridal pair. -Other couples immediately followed their example, and the dancing -commenced in earnest. The lively quadrille was succeeded by the stately -minuet, and that by the graceful waltz, and the time-honored and social -Virginia reel. Then came an interval of repose, preceding the sumptuous -supper. Then the outpouring of the whole company into the dining-room; -and the eating, drinking, toasting, and jesting; then they adjourned -to the saloon, when again quadrilles, minuets, reels and waltzes -alternated with short-lived rest, refreshment, gossip, and flirtations, -until a late hour, when the discovered disappearance of the bride and -her attendants gave the usual warning for the company to break up. At -the covert invitation of Colonel Compton, some of the gentlemen, who -were without ladies, lingered after the departure of the other guests, -and adjourned with himself and his son-in-law, to the dining-room, -where, after drinking the health of the newly married pair, they took -leave. - -The next day Judge Houston, the uncle of the bridegroom, entertained -the wedding party and a large company at dinner. And this was the -signal for the commencement of a series of dinners, tea and card -parties, and balls, given in honor of the bride, and which kept her and -her coterie in a whirl of social dissipation for several weeks. - -But from this brilliant entanglement let us draw out clearly the sombre -thread of our own narrative. - -Everywhere the resplendent beauty of Marguerite De Lancie was felt and -celebrated. Every one declared that the star of fashion had emerged -from her late eclipse with new and dazzling brilliancy. And ever, -whether in repose or action; whether reclined upon some divan, she -was the inspiration of a circle of conversationalists; or whether she -led the dance, or, seated at the harpsichord, poured forth her soul -in glorious song--she was ever the queen of all hearts and minds, who -recognized in her magnificent personality a sovereignty no crown or -sceptre could confer. All, in proportion to their depth and strength -of capacity for appreciation, felt this. But none so much as one whose -duty brought him ever to her side in zealous service, or deferential -waiting. - -Philip Helmstedt, almost from the first hour of his meeting with this -imperial beauty, had felt her power. He watched her with the most -reserved and respectful vigilance; he saw her ever the magnet of all -hearts and eyes, the life of all social intercourse, the inspiration of -poets, the model of painters, the worship of youth and love; shining -for, warming, lighting, and enlivening all who approached her, yet with -such impartiality that none ventured to aspire to especial notice. -There was one exception, and not a favored one to his equanimity -and that was Mr. Helmstedt himself; her manner toward him, at first -affable, soon grew reserved, then distant, and at length repelling. -Colonel Compton, who had taken it into his head that this haughty pair -were well adapted to each other, watched with interest the progress of -their acquaintance, noticed this, and despaired. - -“It is useless,” he said, “and I warn you, Philip Helmstedt, not to -consume your heart in the blaze of Marguerite De Lancie’s beauty! She -is the invincible Diana of modern times. For seven years has Marguerite -reigned in our saloons, with the absolute dominion of a beauty and -genius that ‘age cannot wither nor custom stale,’ and her power remains -undiminished as her beauty is undimmed. Year after year the most -distinguished men of their time, men celebrated in the battles and in -the councils of their country, men of history, have been suitors in her -train, and have received their _congé_ from her imperial nod. Can you -hope for more than an Armstrong, a Bainbridge, a Cavendish?” - -“I beseech you, sir, spare me the alphabetical list of Miss De Lancie’s -conquests! I can well believe their name is legion,” interrupted Philip -Helmstedt, with an air of scorn and arrogance that seemed to add, “and -if it were so, I should enter the lists with full confidence against -them all.” - -“I assure you it is sheer madness, Philip! A man may as well hope to -monopolize the sun to light his own home as to win Marguerite De Lancie -to his hearth! She belongs to society, I think, also, to history. -She requires a nation for her field of action. I have known her from -childhood and watched with wonder her development. It is the friction -of marvelous and undirected energies that causes her to glow and -radiate in society as you see her. It is sheer frenzy, your pursuit -of her! I tell you, I have seen a love chase worth ten of yours--Lord -William Daw----” - -“Lord--William--Daw!” interrupted Philip Helmstedt, curling his lip -with ineffable scorn. - -“Well, now, I assure you, Philip, the heir presumptive of a marquisate -is not to be sneered at. He was besides a good-looking and well-behaved -young fellow, except that he followed Miss De Lancie up and down -the country like a demented man, in direct opposition, both to the -clucking of an old hen of a tutor, and the coldness of his Diana. He -was drowned, poor youth! but I always suspected that he threw himself -overboard in desperation!” - -“Lord--William--Daw,” said Mr. Helmstedt, with the same deliberate and -scornful intonation, “may not have been personally the equal of the -lady to whom he aspired. Very young men frequently raise their hopes to -women ‘who are, or ought to be, unattainable’ by them. Miss De Lancie -is not one to permit herself to be dazzled by the glitter of mere rank -and title.” - -Yes. Philip Helmstedt hoped, believed, in more success for himself than -had attended any among his predecessors or temporary rivals. True, -indeed, his recommendations, personal as well as circumstantial, to -the favor of this “fourth Grace and tenth Muse,” were of the first -order. The last male representative of an ancient, haughty, and wealthy -family, their vast estates centered in his possession--he chose to -devote many years to study and to travel. An accomplished scholar, -he had read, observed and reflected, and was prepared, at his own -pleasure, to confer the result upon the world. A tried and proved -soldier, he might claim military rank and rapid promotion. Lastly, -a pre-eminently fine looking person, he might aspire to the hand of -almost any beauty in the city, with every probability of success. But -Philip Helmstedt was fastidious and proud to a degree of scornful -arrogance--that was his one great, yes, terrible sin. It was the -bitter upas of his soul that poisoned every one of the many virtues of -his character. But for scorn, truth, justice, prudence, temperance, -generosity, fortitude, would have flourished in his nature. It was this -trenchant arrogance that made him indifferent to accessory honors--that -made him as a profound student, regardless of scholastic fame--as -a brave soldier, careless of military glory--as an accomplished -gentleman, negligent of beauty’s allurements. It was this arrogance in -fine, that entered very largely into his passion for the magnificent -Marguerite. For here at last, in her, he found a princess quite worthy -of his high devotion, and he resolved to win her. - -God have mercy on any soul self-cursed with scorn. - -And Marguerite? Almost from the first moment of their meeting, her -eyes, her soul, had been strangely and irresistibly magnetized. -I do not know that this was caused by the distinguished personal -appearance of Philip Helmstedt. After all, it is not the beauty, but -the peculiarity, individuality, uniqueness, in the beauty that attracts -its destined mate. And Philip Helmstedt’s presence was pre-eminently -characteristic, individual, unique. At first Marguerite’s eyes were -attracted by a certain occult resemblance to his young cousin, her -own beloved friend, Cornelia Compton. It was not only such a family -likeness as might exist between brother and sister. It was something -deeper than a similitude of features, complexion and expression. The -same peculiar conformation of brow and eye, the same proud lines in -the aquiline profile, the same disdainful curves in the expressive -lips, the same distinctly individualized characteristics, that had long -charmed and cheated her in Nellie’s superficial face, was present, only -more strongly marked and deeply toned, and truly representative of -great force of character, in Philip Helmstedt’s imposing countenance. -But there was something more than this--there was identity in the -uniqueness of each--faint and uncertain in the delicate face of Nellie, -intense and ineffaceable in the sculptured features of Philip. As -Marguerite studied this remarkable physiognomy, she felt that her -strange attraction to Nellie had been but a faint prelude, though a -prophecy of this wondrous magnetism. - -Alarmed at the spell that was growing around her heart, she withdrew -her eyes and thoughts, opposed to the attentions of her lover a cold, -repellant manner, and treated his devotion with supreme disdain, which -must have banished any man less strong in confidence than Philip -Helmstedt, but which in his case only warded off the day of fate. -Perseveringly he attended her, earnestly he sought an opportunity -of explaining himself. In vain; for neither at home nor abroad, in -parlor, saloon, thoroughfare or theatre, could he manage to secure a -_tête-à-tête_. Whether sitting or standing, Miss De Lancie was always -the brilliant center of a circle; and if she walked, like any other -queen, she was attended by her suite. Only when he mingled with this -train, could he speak to her. But then--the quick averting of that -regal hand, the swift fall of the sweeping, dark eyelashes, the sudden, -deep flush of the bright cheeks, the suppressed heave of the beautiful -bosom, the subdued tremor of the thrilling voice, betrayed hidden -emotions, that only he had power to arouse, or insight to detect, and -read therein the confirmation of his dearest hopes. The castle walls -might show a forbidding aspect, but the citadel was all his own, hence -his determination, despite her icy coldness of manner, to pass all -false shows, and come to an understanding with his Diana. Still Miss De -Lancie successfully evaded his pursuit and defeated his object. What -was the cause of her course of conduct, he could not satisfactorily -decide. Was pride struggling with love in her bosom? If so, that pride -should succumb. - -Having failed in every delicate endeavor to effect a _tête-à-tête_, and -the day of Marguerite’s departure being near at hand, Mr. Helmstedt -went one morning directly to the house of Colonel Compton, sent up his -card to Miss De Lancie, and requested the favor of an interview. He -received an answer that Miss De Lancie was particularly engaged and -begged to be excused. Again and again he tried the same plan with the -same ill-success. Miss De Lancie was never at leisure to receive Mr. -Helmstedt. At length this determined suitor sent a note, requesting -the lady to name some hour when she should be sufficiently disengaged -to see him. The reply to this was that Miss De Lancie regretted to say -that at no hour of her short remaining time should she be at liberty to -entertain Mr. Helmstedt. This flattering message was delivered in the -parlor, and in the presence of Colonel Compton. As soon as the servant -had retired, the old gentleman raised his eyes to the darkened brow of -Philip Helmstedt, and said: “I see how it is, Philip. Marguerite is a -magnanimous creature. She would spare you the humiliation of a refusal. -But you--you are resolved upon mortification. You will not be content -without a decided rejection. Very well. You shall have an opportunity -of receiving one. Listen. Houston and Nellie are dining with the judge -to-day. Mrs. Compton is superintending the making of calf’s-foot -jelly; don’t huff and sneer, Philip. I cannot help sometimes knowing -the progress of such culinary mysteries; but I am not going to assist -at them or to ask you to do so. I am going to ride. Thus, if you -will remain here to-day, you will have the house to yourself, and -Marguerite, who for some unaccountable reason, fate perhaps, chooses to -stay home. Go into the library and wait. Miss De Lancie, according to -her usual custom, will probably visit that or the adjoining music-room -in the course of the forenoon, and there you have her. Make the best -use of your opportunity, and the Lord speed you; for I, for my part, -heartily wish this lioness fairly mated. Come; let me install you.” - -“There appears to be no other chance, and I must have an interview with -her to-day,” said Mr. Helmstedt, rising to accompany his host who led -the way to the library. It was on the opposite side of the hall. - -“Now be patient,” said the colonel, as he took leave; “you may have to -wait one or more hours, but you can find something here to read.” - -“Read!” ejaculated Philip Helmstedt, with the tone and energy of an -oath; but the old gentleman was already gone, and the younger one threw -himself into a chair to wait. - -“‘Be patient!’ with the prospect of waiting here several hours, and -the possibility of disappointment at the end,” exclaimed Philip, -rising, and walking in measured steps up and down the room, trying to -control the eagerness of expectation that made moments seem like hours, -while he would have compressed hours into moments. - -How long he waited ought scarcely to be computed by the common -measure of time. It might not have been; an hour--to him it seemed -an indefinite duration--a considerable portion of eternity, when at -length, while almost despairing of the presence of Marguerite, he heard -from the adjoining music-room the notes of a harp. - -He paused, for the harpist might be--must be Miss De Lancie. - -He listened. - -Soon the chords of the lyre were swept by a magic hand that belonged -only to one enchantress, and the instrument responded in a low, deep -moan, that presently swelled in a wild and thrilling strain. And then -the voice of the _improvvisatrice_ stole upon the ear--that wondrous -voice, that ever, while it sounded, held captive all ears, silent and -breathless all lips, spellbound all hearts!--it arose, first tremulous, -melodious, liquid, as from a sea of tears, then took wing in a wild, -mournful, despairing wail. It was a song of renunciation, in which -some consecrated maiden bids adieu to her lover, renouncing happiness, -bewailing fate, invoking death. Philip Helmstedt listened, magnetized -by the voice of the sorceress, with its moans of sorrow, its sudden -gushes of passion or tenderness, and its wails of anguish and despair. -And when at last, like the receding waves of the heart’s life tide, the -thrilling notes ebbed away into silence and death, he remained standing -like a statue. Then, with self-reflection and the returning faculty of -combination, came the question: - -“What did this song of renunciation mean?” And the next more practical -inquiry, should he remain in the library, awaiting the doubtful event -of her coming, or should he enter the music-room? A single moment of -reflection decided his course. - -He advanced softly, and opened the listed and silently-turning doors, -and paused an instant to gaze upon a beautiful tableau! - -Directly opposite to him, at the extremity of the thickly carpeted -room, was a deep bay window, richly curtained with purple and gold, -through which the noon-day sun shone with a subdued glory. Within -the glowing shadows of this recess sat Marguerite beside the harp. A -morning robe of amber-hued India silk fell in classic folds around her -form. Her arms were still upon the harp, her inspired face was pale and -half averted. Her rich, purplish tresses pushed off from her temples, -revealed the breadth of brow between them in a new and royal aspect -of beauty. Her eyes were raised and fixed upon the distance, as if -following in spirit the muse that had just died from lips of fire. She -was so completely absorbed, that she did not heed the soft and measured -step of Philip Helmstedt, until he paused before her, bowed and spoke. - -Then she started to her feet with a brow crimsoned by a sudden rush -of emotion, and thrown completely off her guard, for the moment, she -confronted him with a home question. - -“Philip Helmstedt! what has brought you here?” - -“My deep, my unconquerable, consuming love! It has broken down all the -barriers of etiquette, and given me thus to your presence, Marguerite -De Lancie,” he replied, with a profound and deprecating inclination of -the head. - -She had recovered a degree of self-possession; but the tide of blood -receding had left her brow cold and clammy, and her frame tremulous and -faint; she leaned upon her harp for support, pushed the falling tresses -from her pale, damp forehead, and said, in faltering tones: - -“I would have saved you this! Why, in the name of all that is manly, -delicate, honorable!--why have you in defiance of all opposition, -ventured this?” - -“Because I love you, Marguerite. Because I love you for time and for -eternity with a love that must speak or slay.” - -“Ungenerous! unjust!” - -“Be it so, Marguerite. I do not ask you to forgive me, for that must -presuppose repentance, and I do not repent standing here, Miss De -Lancie.” - -“Still I must ask you, sir,” said Marguerite, who was gradually -recovering the full measure of her natural dignity and self-possession, -“what feature in all my conduct that has come under your observation -has given you the courage to obtrude upon me a presence and a suit that -you must know to be unwelcome and repulsive?” - -“Shall I tell you? I will, with the truthfulness of spirit answering -to spirit. I come because, despite all your apparent hauteur, disdain, -coldness, such a love as this which burns within my heart for you, -bears within itself the evidence of reciprocity,” replied Philip -Helmstedt, laying his hand upon his heart, and atoning by a profound -reverence for the presumption of his words. “And I appeal to your own -soul, Marguerite De Lancie, for the indorsement of my avowal.” - -“You are mad!” said Marguerite, trembling. - -“No--not mad, lady, because loving you as never man loved woman yet, I -also feel and know, with the deepest respect be it said, that I do not -love in vain,” he replied, sinking for an instant upon his knee, and -bowing deeply over her hand that he pressed to his lips. - -“In vain! in vain! you do! you do!” she exclaimed, almost distractedly, -while trembling more than ever. - -“Marguerite,” he said, rising, yet retaining his hold upon her hand, -“it may be that I love in vain, but I do not love alone. This hand that -I clasp within my own throbs like a palpitating heart. I read, on your -brow, in your eyes, in your trembling lip and heaving bosom, that my -great love is not lost; that it is returned; that you are mine, as I am -yours. Marguerite De Lancie, by a claim rooted in the deepest nature, -you are my wife for time and for eternity!” - -“Never! never! you know not what you say or seek!” she exclaimed, -snatching her hand away and shuddering through every nerve. - -“Miss De Lancie, your words and manner are inexplicable, are alarming! -Tell me, for the love of Heaven, Marguerite, does any insurmountable -obstacle stand in the way of our union?” - -“Obstacle!” repeated Miss De Lancie, starting violently, and gazing -with wild, dilated eyes upon the questioner, while every vestige of -color fled from her face. - -“Yes, that was the word I used, dearest Marguerite! Oh, if there be----” - -“What obstacle should exist, except my own will? A very sufficient one, -I should say,” interrupted Marguerite, struggling hard for self-control. - -“Say your decision against your will.” - -“What right have you to think so, sir?” - -“Look in your own heart and read my right, Marguerite.” - -“I never look into that abyss!” - -“Marguerite, you fill me with a terrible anxiety. Marguerite, for -seven years you have reigned a queen over society; your hand has been -sought by the most distinguished men of the country; you are as full of -tenderness and enthusiasm as a harp is of music; it seems incredible -that you have never married or betrothed yourself, or even loved, or -fancied that you loved! Tell me, Marguerite, in the name of Heaven, -tell me, have any of these events occurred to you?” He waited for an -answer. - -She remained silent, while a frightful pallor overspread her face. - -“Tell me! Oh! tell me, Marguerite, have you ever before loved? Ah, -pardon the question and answer it.” - -She made a supreme effort, recovered her self-possession and replied: - -“No, not as you understand it.” - -“How?--not as I understand it? Ah! forgive me again, but your words -increase my suffering.” - -“Oh! I have loved Nellie as a sister, her father and mother as parents, -some acquaintances as friends, that is all.” - -She was answering these close questions! she was yielding to the -fascination. Amid all her agony of conflicting emotions she was -yielding. - -“Marguerite! Marguerite! And this is true! You have never loved -before!” - -“It is true--yet what of that? for I know not even why I admit this! -Oh! leave me, I am not myself. Hope nothing from what I have told -you. I can never, never be your wife!” exclaimed Marguerite, with the -half-suppressed and wild affright of one yielding to a terrible spell. - -“But one word more. Is your hand free also, dearest Marguerite?” - -“Yes, it is free; but what then? I have told you----” - -“Then it is free no longer; for by the splendor of the heavens, it is -mine. Marguerite, it is mine!” he exclaimed as he caught and pressed -that white hand in his own. - -Marguerite De Lancie’s previsions had been prophetic. She had foreseen -that an interview would be fatal to her resolution, and it proved -fatal. Philip Helmstedt urged his suit with all the eloquence of -passionate love, seconded by the dangerous advocate in Marguerite’s -heart, and he won it; and in an hour after, the pair that had met so -inauspiciously, parted as betrothed lovers. Mr. Helmstedt went away -in deep joy, and with a sense of triumph only held in check by his -habitual dignity and self-control. And Marguerite remained in that -scene of the betrothal, looking, not like a loving and happy affianced -bride, but rather like a demented woman, with pale face and wild, -affrighted eyes, strained upward as for help, and cold hands wrung -together as in an appeal, and exclaiming under her breath: - -“What have I done! Lord forgive me! Oh, Lord have pity on me!” And yet -Marguerite De Lancie loved her betrothed with all her fiery soul. That -love in a little while brought her some comfort in her strange distress. - -“What’s done is done,” she said, in the tone of one who would nerve her -soul to some endurance, and then she went to her room, smoothed her -hair, dressed for the afternoon, and through all the remainder of the -day moved about, the same brilliant, sparkling Marguerite as before. - -In the evening the accepted suitor presented himself. And though he -only mingled as before, in the train of Miss De Lancie, and acted in -all respects with the greatest discretion, yet those particularly -interested could read the subdued joy of his soul, and draw the proper -inference. - -That night, when Marguerite retired to her chamber, Nellie followed -her, and casting herself at once into an armchair, she broke the -subject by suddenly exclaiming: “Marguerite, I do believe you have been -encouraging Ironsides!” - -“Why do you think so--if I understand what you mean?” - -“Oh, from his looks! He looks as bright as a candle in a dark lantern, -and as happy as if he had just slain his enemy. I do fear you have -given him hopes, Marguerite.” - -“And why fear it?” - -“Oh, because, Marguerite, dear, I don’t want you to have him!” said -Nellie, with a show of great tenderness. - -“Nonsense!” - -“I do not believe you will, you see, but still I fear. Oh, Marguerite, -he may be high-toned, magnanimous, and all that, but he is not tender, -not gentle, not loving!” - -“In a word--not a good nurse.” - -“No.” - -“Good! I do not want a nurse!” - -“Ah! Marguerite, I am afraid of Philip Helmstedt. If you only knew how -he treated his sister.” - -“His sister! I did not even know he had one.” - -“I dare say not; but he has. She is in the madhouse.” - -“In the madhouse!” - -“Yes; I’ll tell you all about it. It was before he went away the last -time. His sister Agnes was then eighteen; they lived together. She was -engaged to poor Hertford, the son of the notorious defaulter, who was -no defaulter when that engagement was made. Agnes and Hertford were -within a few days of their marriage when the father’s embezzlements -were discovered. Now poor young Hertford was not in the least -implicated, yet as soon as his father’s disgrace was made manifest, -Philip Helmstedt, as the guardian of his sister, broke off the -marriage.” - -“He could have done no otherwise,” said Marguerite. - -“In spite of her pledged word? In spite of her prayers and tears, and -distracted grief?” - -“He could have done no otherwise,” repeated Marguerite, though her face -grew very pale. - -“That was not all. The lovers met, arranged a flight, and were about to -escape, when Philip Helmstedt discovered them. He insulted the young -man, struck him with his riding whip across the face, and bore his -fainting sister home. The next day the two men met in a duel.” - -“They could have done no otherwise. It was the bloody code of honor!” -reiterated Marguerite, yet her very lips were white, as she leaned -forward against the top of Nellie’s chair. - -“Hertford lost his right arm, and Agnes lost--her reason!” - -“My God!” - -“Yes; ‘a plague o’ honor,’ I say.” - -“Dear Nellie, leave me now; my head aches, and I am tired.” - -Nellie, accustomed to such abrupt dismissions, kissed her friend and -retired. - -“Honor, honor, honor,” repeated Marguerite, when left alone. “Oh, -Moloch of civilization, when will you be surfeited?” - -The next morning Philip Helmstedt called, sent up his card to Miss De -Lancie, and was not denied her presence. - -“Show the gentleman into the music-room, and say that I will see him -there, John,” was the direction given by Miss De Lancie, who soon -descended thither. - -Mr. Helmstedt arose to meet her, and wondered at her pale, worn look. - -“I hope you are in good health this morning, dear Marguerite,” he said, -offering to salute her. But she waved him off, saying: - -“No! I am ill! And I come to you, this morning, Philip Helmstedt, to -implore you to restore the promise wrenched from me yesterday,” she -said, and sunk, pallid and exhausted, upon the nearest chair. - -A start and an attitude of astounded amazement was his only reply. A -pause of a moment ensued, and Marguerite repeated: - -“Will you be so generous as to give me back my plighted faith, Philip -Helmstedt?” - -“Marguerite! has nature balanced her glorious gift to you with a -measure of insanity?” he inquired, at length, but without abatement of -his astonishment. - -“I sometimes think so. I do mad things occasionally. And the maddest -thing I ever did, save one, was to give you that pledge yesterday.” - -“Thank you, fairest lady.” - -“And I ask you now to give it back to me.” - -“For what reason?” - -“I can give you none!” - -“No reason for your strange request?” - -“None!” - -“Then I assure you, my dearest Marguerite, that I am not mad.” - -“Indeed, you are upon one subject, if you did but know it. Once more, -will you enfranchise my hand?” - -“Do I look as if I would, lady of mine?” - -“No! no! you do not! You never will! very well! be the consequences on -your own head.” - -“Amen. I pray for no better.” - -“Heaven pity me!” - -“My dearest, most capricious love! I do not know the motive of your -strangest conduct; it may be that you only try the strength of my -affection--try it, Marguerite! you will find it bear the test--but I -do know, that if I doubted the truth of yours, I should disengage your -hand at once.” - -There followed words of passionate entreaty on her part, met by earnest -deprecation and unshaken firmness on his; but the spell was over her, -and the scene ended as it had done the day previous; Philip was the -victor, and the engagement was riveted, if possible, more firmly than -before. Again Philip departed rejoicing; Marguerite, almost raving. - -Yet Marguerite loved no less strongly and truly than did Philip. - -Later in that forenoon, before going out, Nellie went into Marguerite’s -chamber, where she found her friend extended on her bed, so still and -pale that she drew near in alarm and laid her hand upon her brow; it -was beaded with a cold sweat. - -“Marguerite! Marguerite! what is the matter? You are really ill.” - -“I am blue,” said Marguerite. - -“Blue! that you are literally--hands and face, too.” - -“Yes, I have got an ague,” said Marguerite, shuddering, “but I will not -be coddled! There.” - -In vain, Nellie, with a great show of solicitude, urged her services. -Marguerite would receive none of them, and ended, as usual, by ordering -Nellie out of the room. - -In a few days the engagement between Mr. Helmstedt and Miss De Lancie -was made known to the intimate friends of the parties. The marriage -was appointed to take place early in the ensuing winter. Then the -Richmond party dispersed--Colonel and Mrs. Houston went down to their -plantation in Northumberland County; Philip Helmstedt proceeded to his -island estates on the coast, to prepare his long-deserted home for the -reception of his bride. And, lastly, Marguerite, after a hurried visit -of inspection to Plover’s Point, went “gypsying,” as she called it, for -the whole summer and autumn. Upon this occasion, her mysterious absence -was longer than usual. And when at last she rejoined her friends, her -beautiful face betrayed the ravages of some strange, deep bitter sorrow. - -Upon the following Christmas, once more, and for the last time, a merry -party was assembled at Compton Hall. Among the guests were Nellie and -her husband, on a visit to their parents. Marguerite De Lancie and -Philip were also present. And there, under the auspices of Colonel and -Mrs. Compton, they were united in marriage. By Marguerite’s expressed -will, the wedding was very quiet, and almost private. And immediately -afterward the Christmas party broke up. - -And Philip Helmstedt, instead of accompanying the Comptons and Houstons -to Richmond, or starting upon a bridal tour, took his idolized wife to -himself alone, and conveyed her to his bleak and lonely sea-girt home, -where the wild waters lashed the shores both day and night, and the -roar of the waves was ever heard. - - - - -CHAPTER V. THE EXCESS OF GLORY OBSCURED. - - - “Muse, Grace, and Woman--in herself - All moods of mind contrasting-- - The tenderest wail of human woe, - The scorn like lightning blasting; - Mirth sparkling like a diamond shower - From lips of lifelong sadness, - Clear picturings of majestic thought - Upon a ground of madness; - And over all romance and song - A magic lustre throwing, - And laureled Celie at her side - Her storied pages showing.” - --VARIED FROM WHITTIER. - -How the wind raves, this bitter night, around that bleak, sea-girt, -snow-covered island! how the waters roar as they break upon the beach! -Not a star is out. Above, black, scudding clouds sail, like ships, -across the dark ocean of ether--below, ships fly, like clouds, before -the wind, across the troubled waters; thus sky and ocean seem to mingle -in the fierce chaos of night and storm. - -But that massive old stone mansion fronting the sea, and looking so -like a fortification on the island, recks little of the storm that -howls around it--a square, black block against the sky--a denser, more -defined shadow in the midst of shadows, it looks, scarcely relieved -by the tall, stately, Lombardy poplars that wave before the blast -around it--a steady light, from a lower window the center of the front, -streams in a line far out across garden, field, and beach, to the sea. -Ay! little recks the strong house, built to brave just such weather, -and little recks the beautiful woman, safely sheltered in the warmest, -most luxurious room, of the wild wind and waves that rage so near its -thick walls. - -Let us leave the storm without and enter that nook. Look! this room had -been furnished with direct regard to Marguerite’s comfort, and though -showing nothing like the splendor of modern parlors, it was comfortable -and luxurious, as comfort and luxury were understood at that time and -place; a costly French historic paper, representing the story of -the Argonaunt sailors, adorned the walls; a rich, deep-wooded, square -Turkey carpet covered the floor to within a foot of the chair-boards; -heavy, dark crimson damask curtains, upheld by a gilded oar, fell in -voluminous folds from the one deep bay window in front of the room; -high-backed, richly-carved and crimson cushioned chairs were ranged -against the walls; a curiously wrought cabinet stood in the recess on -the right of the tall mantelpiece, and a grand piano in that on the -left; oddly shaped and highly polished mahogany or black walnut stands -and tables stood in corners or at side walls under hanging mirrors -and old paintings; a fine sea view hung above the mantelpiece, and a -pair of bronze candelabras, in the shape of anchors, adorned each end; -choice books, vases, statuettes and bijouterie were scattered about; -but the charm of the room was the crimson-curtained bay window, with -its semi-circular sofa, and the beautiful harp and the music-stand that -was a full-sized statue of St. Cecelia holding a scroll, which served -as a rest for the paper. This recess had been fitted up by Philip -Helmstedt in fond memory of the draperied bay window in the music-room -at Colonel Compton’s town house, where he had first breathed his love -to Marguerite’s ear. - -The bridal pair, whose honeymoon in three months had not waned, were -sitting on a short sofa, drawn up on the right of the fire. They were -a very handsome couple and formed a fine picture as they sat--Philip, -with his grandly-proportioned and graceful form, perfect Roman profile, -stately head and short, curled, black hair and beard and high-bred -air--Marguerite, in her superb beauty, which neither negligence nor -overdress could mar--Marguerite sometimes so disdainful of the aid -of ornament, was very simply clothed in a plain robe of fine, soft, -crimson cloth, about the close bodice of which dropped here and there -a stray ringlet from the rich mass of her slightly disheveled, but -most beautiful hair. Her warm, inspiring face was glowing with life, -and her deep, dark eyes were full of light. Some little graceful -trifle of embroidery gave her slender, tapering fingers a fair excuse -to move, while she listened to the voice of Philip reading “Childe -Harold.” But after all there was little sewing and little reading -done. Marguerite’s soul-lit eyes were oftener raised to Philip’s face -than lowered over her work; and Philip better loved the poetry in -Marguerite’s smile than the beauty of the canto before him. They had, -in the very lavish redundance of life and consciousness of mutual -self-sufficiency, left the gay and multitudinous city to retire to -this secluded spot, this outpost of the continent, to be for a while -all in all to each other; and three months of total isolation from -the world had passed, and as yet they had not begun to be weary of -each other’s exclusive society. In truth, with their richly-endowed -natures and boundless mutual resources, they could not soon exhaust the -novelty of their wedded bliss. No lightest, softest cloud had as yet -passed over the face of their honeymoon. If Mr. Helmstedt’s despotic -character occasionally betrayed itself, even toward his queenly bride, -Marguerite, in her profound, self-abnegating, devoted love, with almost -a saintly enthusiasm, quickly availed herself of the opportunity to -prove how much deep joy is felt in silently, quietly, even secretly, -laying our will at the feet of one we most delight to honor. And if -Marguerite’s beautiful face sometimes darkened with a strange gloom -and terror, it was always in the few hours of Mr. Helmstedt’s absence, -and thus might easily be explained; for be it known to the reader that -there was no way of communication between their island and the outside -world except by boats, and the waters this windy season were always -rough. If Mr. Helmstedt sometimes reflected upon the scenes of their -stormy courtship, and wondered at the strange conduct of his beloved, -he was half inclined to ascribe it all to a sort of melodramatic -coquetry or caprice, or perhaps fanaticism in regard to the foolish -pledge of celibacy once made between Miss De Lancie and Miss Compton, -of which he had heard; it is true he thought that Marguerite was not -a woman to act from either of these motives, but he was too happy in -the possession of his bride to consider the matter deeply now, and it -could be laid aside for future reference. Marguerite never reviewed -the subject. Their life was now as profoundly still as it was deeply -satisfied. They had no neighbors and no company whatever. “Buzzard’s -Bluff,” Colonel Houston’s place, was situated about five miles from -them, up the Northumberland coast, but the colonel and his family were -on a visit to the Comptons, in Richmond, and were not expected home for -a month to come. Thus their days were very quiet. - -How did they occupy their time? In reading, in writing, in music, in -walking, riding, sailing, and, most of all, in endless conversations -that permeated all other employments. Their island of three hundred -acres scarcely afforded space enough for the long rides and drives they -liked to take together; but on such few halcyon days as sometimes bless -our winters, they would cross with their horses by the ferryboat to -the Northumberland coast, and spend a day or half a day exploring the -forest; sometimes, while the birding season lasted, a mounted groom; -with fowling pieces and ammunition, would be ordered to attend, and -upon these occasions a gay emulation as to which should bag the most -game would engage their minds; at other times, alone and unattended, -they rode long miles into the interior of the country, or down the -coast to Buzzard’s Bluff, to take a look at Nellie’s home, or up the -coast some twenty miles to spend a night at Marguerite’s maiden home, -Plover’s Point. From the latter place Marguerite had brought her old -nurse, Aunt Hapzibah, whom she promoted to the post of housekeeper at -the island, and the daughter of the latter, Hildreth, who had long been -her confidential maid, and the son, Forrest, whom she retained as her -own especial messenger. And frequently when - - “The air was still and the water still,” - -or nearly so, the wedded pair would enter a rowboat and let it drift -down the current, or guide it in and out among the scattering clusters -of inlets that diversified the coast, where Mr. Helmstedt took a deep -interest in pointing out to Marguerite vestiges of the former occupancy -or visitings of those fierce buccaneers of the bay isles, that made so -hideous the days and nights of the early settlers of Maryland, and from -whom scandal said Philip Helmstedt himself had descended. Returning -from these expeditions, they would pass the long, winter evenings as -they were passing this one when I present them again to the reader, -that is, in reading, work, or its semblance, conversation and music, -when Marguerite would awaken the sleeping spirit of her harp to -accompany her own rich, deep and soul-thrilling voice, in some sacred -aria of Handel, or love song of Mozart, or simple, touching ballad of -our own mother tongue. But Marguerite’s improvisations were over. Upon -this evening in question, Philip Helmstedt threw aside his book, and -after gazing long and earnestly at his bride, as though he would absorb -into his being the whole beautiful creature at his side, he said: - -“Take your guitar, dear Marguerite, and give me some music--invest -yourself in music, it is your natural atmosphere,” and rising, he went -to a table and brought thence the instrument, a rare and priceless one, -imported from Spain, and laid it upon Marguerite’s lap. She received -it smilingly, and after tuning its chords, commenced and sung, in the -original, one of Camoens’ exquisite Portuguese romaunts. He thanked her -with a warm caress when she had finished, and, taking the guitar from -her hand, said: - -“You never improvise now, my Corinne! You never have done so since our -union. Has inspiration fled?” - -“I do not know--my gift of song was always an involuntary power--coming -suddenly, vanishing unexpectedly. No, I never improvise now--the reason -is, I think, that the soul never can set strongly in but one direction -at a time.” - -“And that direction?” - -She turned to him with a glance and a smile that fully answered his -question. - -“I am too happy to improvise, Philip,” she said, dropping her beautiful -head on his bosom, as he passed his arm around her, bent down and -buried his face on the rich and fragrant tresses of her hair. - -I present them to you in their wedded joy this evening, because it was -the very last happy evening of their united lives. Even then a step -was fast approaching, destined to bring discord, doubt, suspicion, -and all the wretched catalogue of misery that follow in their train. -While Marguerite’s head still rested lovingly on Philip’s bosom, and -his fingers still threaded the lustrous black ringlets of her hair, -while gazing down delightedly upon her perfect face, a sound was heard -through the wind, that peculiar, heavy, swashing sound of a ferryboat -striking the beach, followed by a quick, crunching step, breaking into -the crusted snow and through the brushwood toward the house. - -“It is my messenger from the post office--now for news of Nellie!” said -Marguerite. - -Philip looked slightly vexed. - -“‘Nellie!’--how you love Mrs. Houston, Marguerite! I do not understand -such intimate female friendships.” - -“Doubtless you don’t! It is owing to the slight circumstance of your -being a man,” said Marguerite, gayly, compensating for her light words -by the passionate kiss she left on his brow as she went from his side -to meet the messenger--ah! the ill-omened messenger that had entered -the house and was hastening toward the parlor. - -“Any letters, Forrest?” she eagerly inquired, as the boy came in. - -“Only one, madam, for you,” replied the man, delivering the missive. - -“From Nellie, I judge!” she exclaimed, confidently, as she took it; -but on seeing the postmark and superscription, she suddenly caught her -breath, suppressing a sharp cry, and sank upon a chair. - -Mr. Helmstedt, who had just turned and walked to the window to look out -upon the wild weather, did not see this agitation. - -Marguerite broke the seal and read; fear, grief and cruel remorse -storming in her darkened and convulsed countenance. - -Philip Helmstedt, having satisfied himself that the wind was increasing -in force, and that vessels would be lost before morning, now turned and -walked toward his wife. - -She heard his step, oh! what a supreme effort of the soul was that--an -effort in which years of life are lost--with which she commanded her -grief and terror to retire, her heart to be still, her face to be -calm, her tones to be steady, and her whole aspect to be cheerful and -disengaged as her husband joined her. - -“Your letter was not from Mrs. Houston, love? I am almost sorry--that -is, I am sorry for your disappointment as a man half jealous of -‘Nellie’s’ share in your heart can be,” he said. - -Marguerite smiled archly at this badinage, but did not otherwise reply. - -“Well, then, if not from Nellie, I hope you heard good news from some -other dear friend.” - -“As if I had scores of other dear friends!--but be at ease, thou -jealous Spaniard, for Nellie is almost your only rival.” - -“I would not have even one,” replied Mr. Helmstedt; but his eyes were -fixed while he spoke upon the letter, held lightly, carelessly in -Marguerite’s hand, and that interested him as everything connected with -her always did; and yet concerning which, that chivalrous regard to -courtesy that ever distinguished him, except in moments of ungovernable -passion, restrained him from inquiring. - -Marguerite saw this, and, lightly wringing the paper in her fingers, -said: - -“It is from an acquaintance--I have so many--perhaps it would amuse you -to look it over.” - -“Thank you, dear Marguerite,” replied Mr. Helmstedt, extending his hand -to take it. - -She had not expected this--she had offered believing he would decline -it, as he certainly would have done had he been less deeply interested -in all that concerned her. - -“By the way, no! I fear I ought not to let you see it, Philip! -It is from an acquaintance who has made me the depository of her -confidence--I must not abuse it even to you. You would not ask it, -Philip?” - -“Assuredly not, except, inasmuch as I wish to share every thought and -feeling of yours, my beloved! Do you know that this desire makes me -jealous even of your silence and your reveries? And I would enter even -into them! Nothing less would content me.” - -“Then be contented, Philip, for you are the soul of all my reveries; -you fill my heart, as I am sure I do yours.” Then casting the letter -into the fire, lightly, as a thing of no account, she went and took -up her guitar and began strumming its strings and humming another -Portuguese song; then, laying that aside again, she rang the bell and -ordered tea. - -“We will have it served here, Philip,” she said; “it is so bleak in the -dining-room.” - -Forrest, who had meanwhile doffed his overcoat and warmed himself, -answered the summons and received the necessary directions. He drew out -a table, then went and presently returned with Hildreth, bringing the -service of delicate white china, thin and transparent as the finest -shells, and richly-chased silver, more costly from its rare workmanship -than for its precious metal; and then the light bread and tea cakes, -_chef-d’œuvres_ of Aunt Hapsy’s culinary skill; and the rich, West -India sweetmeats with which Philip, for want of a housekeeper to -prepare domestic ones before Marguerite’s arrival, had stocked the -closets. When the “hissing urn” was placed upon the table, Forrest -and Hildreth retired, leaving their mistress and master alone; for -Mr. Helmstedt loved with Marguerite to linger over his elegant and -luxurious little tea table, toasting, idling, and conversing at ease -with her, free from the presence of others. And seldom had Marguerite -been more beautiful, brilliant, witty, and fascinating than upon this -evening, when she had but him to please; and his occasional ringing -laughter testified her happy power to move to healthful mirth even that -grave, saturnine nature. - -An hour of trifling with the delicate viands on the table, amid jest -and low-toned silvery laughter, and then the bell was rung and the -service removed. - -“And now--the spirit comes, and I will give you a song--an -improvisation! Quick, give me the guitar--for I must seize the fancy -as it flies--for it is fading even now like a vanishing sail on the -horizon.” - -“The guitar? The harp is your instrument of improvisation.” - -“No! the guitar; I know what I am saying,” and, receiving it from the -hands of her husband, she sat down, and while an arch smile hovered -under the black fringes of her half-closed eyelids, and about the -corners of her slightly parted lips, she began strumming a queer -prelude, and then, like a demented minstrel, struck up one of the -oddest inventions in the shape of a ballad that was ever sung out of -Bedlam. - -Philip listened with undisguised astonishment and irrepressible mirth, -which presently broke bounds in a ringing peal of laughter. Marguerite -paused and waited until his cachinnations should be over, with a -gravity that almost provoked him to a fresh peal, but he restrained -himself, as he wished the ballad to go on, and Marguerite recommenced -and continued uninterrupted through about twenty stanzas, each more -extravagant than the other, until the last one set Philip off again in -a convulsion of laughter. - -“Thalia,” he said; “Thalia as well as Melpomene.” - -“This is the very first comic piece I have ever attempted--the first -time that the laughing muse has visited me,” said Marguerite, laying -down her guitar, and approaching the side of her husband. - -“And I alone have heard it! So I would have it, Marguerite. I almost -detest that any other should enjoy your gifts and accomplishments.” - -“Egotist!” she exclaimed, but with the fond, worshiping tone and -manner, wherewith she might have said, “Idol!” - -“So you like my music, Philip?” - -“How can you ask, my love? Your music delights me, as all you ever say -and do always must.” - -“I have heard that ever when the lute and voice of an _improvvisatrice_ -has chained her master, she has the dear privilege of asking a boon -that he may not deny her,” said Marguerite, in the same light, jesting -tone, under which it was impossible to detect a substratum of deep, -terrible earnestness. - -“How? What do you say, my love?” - -“My voice and stringed instrument have pleased my master, and I would -crave of him a boon.” - -“Dearest love! do not use such a phrase, even in the wantonness of your -sport.” - -“What is, then, Mr. Helmstedt but Marguerite’s master?” - -“Her own faithful lover, husband, servant, all in one; and my lady -knows she has but to speak and her will is law,” said Philip, gallantly. - -“Away with such tinsel flattery. In ‘grand gravity,’ as my dear father -used to say, I am no longer my own, but yours--I cannot come or go, -change my residence, sell or purchase property, make a contract or -prosecute an offender, or do anything else that a free woman would do, -without your sanction. You are my master--my owner.” - -Was this possible? her master? the master of this proud and gifted -woman, who ever before had looked and stepped, and spoken like a -sovereign queen? Yes, it is true; he knew it before, but now from her -own glowing lips it came, bringing a new, strong, thrilling, and most -delicious sense of possession and realization, and his eye traveled -delightedly over the enchanting face and form of his beautiful wife, as -his heart repeated, “She speaks but truth--she, with all her wondrous -dower of beauty and genius and learning is solely mine--my own, own! I -wish the prerogative were even greater. I would have the power of life -and death over this glorious creature, that were I about myself to die, -I could slay her lest another should ever possess her;” but his lips -spoke otherwise. - -“Dear love,” he said, drawing her up to him, “we all know that the -one-sided statute, a barbarous remnant of the dark ages, invests a -husband with certain very harsh powers; but it is almost a dead letter. -Who in this enlightened age thinks of acting upon it? Never reproach me -with a bad law I had no hand in making, sweet love.” - -“‘Reproach’ you, Philip!” she whispered, yielding herself to his -caress; “no! if the law were a hundredfold stricter, investing you -with power over your Marguerite a hundredfold greater, she would not -complain of it; for it cannot give so much as her heart gives you ever -and ever! Should it clothe you with the power of life and death over -her, it would be no more than your power now, for the sword could not -kill more surely, Philip, than your possible unkindness would. No! were -the statutes a thousand times more arbitrary, and your own nature more -despotic, they nor you could exact never so much as my heart pours -freely out to you, ever and ever.” - -He answered only by folding her closer to his bosom, and then said: - -“But the boon, Marguerite; or rather the command, my lady, what is it?” - -“Philip,” she said, raising her head from his bosom, and fixing her -eyes on his face, “Philip, I want--heavens! how the storm raves!--do -you hear it, Philip?” - -“Yes, love, do not mind it; it cannot enter.” - -“But the ships, the ships at sea.” - -“Do not think of them, love; we cannot help them; what is beyond remedy -is beyond regret.” - -“True, that is very true! what is beyond remedy is beyond regret,” said -Marguerite, meditatively. - -“But the ‘boon,’ as you call it, the command, as I regard it--what is -it, Marguerite?” - -“Philip, I am about to ask from you a great proof of your confidence in -me,” she said, fixing her eyes earnestly, pleadingly upon his face. - -“A proof of my confidence in you, Marguerite?” he repeated, slowly, and -then, after a thoughtful pause, he added, “Does it need proof then? -Marguerite, I know not how much the humbling sense of dishonor would -crush me, could I cease for one single hour to confide in you--in you, -the sacred depository of my family honor, and all my best and purest -interests--you, whom it were desecration, in any respect, to doubt. -Lady, for the love of heaven, consult your own dignity and mine before -demanding a proof of that which should be above proof and immeasurably -beyond the possibility of question.” - -“You take this matter very seriously, Philip,” said Marguerite, with a -troubled brow. - -“Because it is a very serious matter, love--but the boon; what is it, -lady? I am almost ready to promise beforehand that it is granted, -though I might suffer the fate of Ninus for my rashness. Come, -the boon, name it! only for heaven’s sake ask it not as proof of -confidence.” - -“And yet it must necessarily be such, nor can you help it, my lord,” -said Marguerite, smiling with assumed gayety. - -“Well, well! let’s hear and judge of that.” - -Marguerite still hesitated, then she spoke to the point. - -“I beg you will permit me to leave you for a month.” - -“To leave me for a month!” exclaimed Philip Helmstedt, astonishment, -vexation, and wonder struggling in his face, “that is asking a boon -with a bitter vengeance. In the name of heaven where do you wish to -go? To your friend Nellie, perchance?” - -“I wish to go away unquestioned, unattended and unfollowed.” - -“But, Marguerite,” he stammered, “but this is the maddest proposition.” - -“For one month--only for one month, Philip, of unfettered action and -unquestioned motives. I wish the door of my delightsome cage opened, -that I may fly abroad and feel myself once more a free agent in God’s -boundless creation. One month of irresponsible liberty, and then I -render myself back to my sweet bondage and my dear master. I love both -too well, too well, to remain away long,” said Marguerite, caressing -him with a fascinating blending of passion with playfulness, that at -another time must have wiled the will from his heart, and the heart -from his bosom. Now, to this proposition, he was adamant. - -“And when do you propose to start?” he asked. - -“To-morrow, if you will permit me.” - -“Had you not better defer it a week, or ten days--until the first of -April, for instance: all-fools’-day would be a ‘marvellous proper’ one -for you to go, and me to speed you on such an expedition.” - -Marguerite laughed strangely. - -“Will you allow me to ask you one question, my love? Where do you wish -to go?” - -“Gipsying.” - -“Gipsying?” - -“‘Aye, my good lord.’” - -“Oh, yes; I remember! Marguerite, let me tell you seriously that I -cannot consent to your wish.” - -“You do not mean to say that you refuse to let me go?” exclaimed -Marguerite, all her assumed lightness vanishing in fear. - -“Let us understand each other. You desire my consent that you shall -leave home for one month, without explaining whither or wherefore you -go?” - -“Yes.” - -“Then most assuredly I cannot sanction any thing of the sort.” - -“Philip, I implore you.” - -“Marguerite, you reduce me to the alternative of doubting your -sincerity or your sanity!” - -“Philip, I am sane, and I am deeply in earnest! Ah! Philip, by our -love, I do entreat you grant me this boon--to leave your house for a -month’s absence, unquestioned by you! Extend the aegis of your sanction -over my absence that none other may dare to question it.” - -“Assuredly none shall dare to question the conduct of Mrs. Helmstedt, -because I shall take care that her acts are above criticism. As to my -sanction of your absence, Marguerite, you have had my answer,” said Mr. -Helmstedt, walking away in severe displeasure and throwing himself into -a chair. - -There was silence in the room for a few minutes, during which -the howling of the storm without rose fearfully on the ear. Then -Marguerite, the proud and beautiful, went and sank down at his feet, -clasped his knees and bowed her stately head upon them, crying: - -“Philip, I pray you, look at me here!” - -“Mrs. Helmstedt, for your own dignity, leave this attitude,” he said, -taking her hands and trying to force her to rise. - -“No, no, no, not until you listen to me, Philip! Oh, Philip, look down -and see who it is that kneels here! petitioning for a span of freedom. -One who three short months ago was mistress of much land and many -slaves, ‘queen o’er herself,’ could go unchecked and come unquestioned, -was accustomed to granting, not to asking boons, until her marriage.” - -“Do you regret the sacrifice?” - -“Regret it! How can you ask the question? If my possessions and -privileges had been multiplied a thousand fold, they should have been, -as I am now, all your own, to do your will with! No! I only referred to -it to move you to generosity!” - -“Marguerite! I cannot tolerate to see you in that attitude one instant -longer,” said Mr. Helmstedt, taking her hands and forcing her to rise -and sit by his side, “Now let us talk reasonably about this matter. -Tell me, your husband, who has the right to know, why and where you -wish to go, and I promise you that you shall go unquestioned and -unblamed of all.” - -“Oh, God, if I might!” escaped the lips of Marguerite, but she speedily -controlled herself and said, “Philip, if you had secret business that -concerned others, and that peremptorily called you from home to attend -to it, would you not feel justified in leaving without even satisfying -your wife’s curiosity as to why and where you went, if you could not do -it without disclosing to her the affairs of others!” - -“No--decidedly no! from my wife I have no secrets. I, who trusted her -with my peace and honor, trust her also with all lesser matters; and -to leave home for a month’s absence without informing her whither and -wherefore I should go--Why, Marguerite, I hope you never really deemed -me capable of offering you such an offence.” - -“Oh, God!--and yet you could do so, unquestioned and unblamed, as many -men do!” - -“I could, but would not.” - -“While I--would but cannot. Well, that is the difference between us.” - -“Certainly, Marguerite, there is a difference between what would be -fitting to--a profane man to a sacred woman--there is a ‘divinity that -hedges’ the latter, through which she cannot break but to lose her -glory.” - -“But in my girlhood I had unmeasured, irresponsible liberty. None dared -to cavil at my actions.” - -“Perhaps so, for maidens are all Dianas. Besides, she who went -‘gypsying,’ year after year, could compromise only herself; now her -eccentricities, charming as they are, might involve the honor of a most -honorable family.” - -“Descendants of a pirate at best,” said Marguerite’s memory; but -her heart rejected the change of her mind, and replied instead, “My -husband, my dear, dear husband, my lord, idolized even now in his -implacability;” her lips spoke nothing. - -“Much was permissible and even graceful in Miss De Lancie, that could -not be tolerated in Mrs. Helmstedt,” continued Philip. - -“A great accession of dignity and importance certainly,” sneered -Marguerite’s sarcastic intellect. “Away! I am his wife! his loving -wife,” replied her worshiping heart; but her lips spoke not. - -“You do not answer me, Marguerite.” - -“I was listening, beloved.” - -“And you see this subject as I do?” - -“Certainly, certainly, and the way you put it leaves me no hope but in -your generosity. Ah, Philip, be more generous than ever man was before. -Ask me no questions, but let me go forth upon my errand, and cover my -absence with the shield of your authority that none may venture to -cavil.” - -“Confide in me and I will do it. I promise you, in advance, not knowing -of what nature that confidence may be.” - -“Oh, Heaven, if--I cannot. Alas! Philip, I cannot!” - -“Why?” - -“The affair concerns others.” - -“There are no others whose interest and claims can conflict with those -of your husband.” - -“I--have a--friend--in deadly peril--I would go to--the assistance of -my friend.” - -“How confused--nay, great Heaven, how guilty you look! Marguerite, who -is that friend? Where is he, or she? What is the nature of the peril? -What connection have you with her or him? Why must you go secretly? -Answer these questions before asking my consent.” - -“Ah, if I dared! if I dared!” she exclaimed, thrown partly off her -guard by agitation, and looking, gazing intently in his face; “but -no, I cannot--oh! I cannot!--that sarcastic incredulity, that fierce, -blazing scorn--I cannot dare it! Guilty? You even now said I looked, -Philip! I am not guilty! The Lord knoweth it well--not guilty, but most -unfortunate--most wretched! Philip, your unhappy wife is an honorable -woman!” - -“She thinks it necessary, however, to assure me of that which should -be above question. Unhappy? Why are you unhappy? Marguerite, how you -torture me.” - -“Philip, for the last time I pray you, I beseech you, grant my wish. Do -not deny me, Philip; do not! Life, more than life, sanity hangs upon -your answer! Philip, will you sanction my going?” - -“Most assuredly not, Marguerite.” - -“Oh, Heaven! how can you be so inflexible, Philip? I asked for a -month--a fortnight might do--Philip; let me go for a fortnight!” - -“No.” - -“For a week then, Philip; for a week! Oh, I do implore you--I, who -never asked a favor before! Let me go but for a week!” - -“Not for a week--not for a day! under the circumstances in which you -wish to go,” said Mr. Helmstedt, with stern inflexibility. - -Again Marguerite threw herself at her husband’s feet, clasping his -knees, and lifting a deathly brow bedewed with the sweat of a great -agony, and eyes strained outward in mortal prayer, she pleaded as a -mother might plead for a child’s life. In vain, for Mr. Helmstedt -grew obdurate in proportion to the earnestness of her prayers, and at -last arose and strode away, and stood with folded arms at the window, -looking out upon the stormy weather, while she remained writhing on the -spot where late she had kneeled. - -So passed half an hour, during which no sound was heard but the fierce -moaning, wailing, and howling of the wind, and the detonating roar -and thunder of the waves as they broke upon the beach; during which -Marguerite remained upon the carpet, with her face buried in the -cushions of the sofa, writhing silently, or occasionally uttering a -low moan like one in great pain; and Philip Helmstedt stood reflecting -bitterly upon what had just passed. To have seen that proud, beautiful -and gifted creature, that regal woman, one of nature’s and society’s -queens, “le Marguerite des Marguerites!” His wife, so bowed down, -crushed, humiliated, was a bitter experience to a man of his haughty, -scornful, sarcastic nature; passionately as he had loved her, proud as -he had been to possess her, now that she was discrowned and fallen, -her value was greatly lessened in his estimation. For not her glorious -beauty had fascinated his senses, or her wonderful genius had charmed -his mind, or her high social position tempted his ambition, so much -as her native queenliness had flattered the inordinate pride of his -character. He did not care to possess a woman who was only beautiful, -amiable or intellectual, or even all these combined; but to conquer -and possess this grand creature with the signet of royalty impressed -upon brow and breast--this was a triumph of which Lucifer himself might -have been proud. But now this queen was discrowned, fallen, fallen -into a miserable, weeping, pleading woman, no longer worthy of his -rule, for it could bring no delight to his arrogant temper to subjugate -weakness and humility, but only strength and pride equal to his own. -And what was it that had suddenly stricken Marguerite down from her -pride of place and cast her quivering at his feet? What was it that she -concealed from him? While vexing himself with these thoughts, he heard -through all the roar of the storm a low, shuddering sigh, a muffled -rustling of drapery and a soft step, and turned to see that his wife -had risen to leave the room. - -“One moment, if you please, Marguerite,” he said, approaching her. She -looked around, still so beautiful, but oh! how changed within a few -hours. Was this Richmond’s magnificent Marguerite, queen of beauty and -of song, whom he had proudly carried off from all competitors? She, -looking so subdued, so pale, with a pallor heightened by the contrast -of the crimson dress she wore, and the lustrous purplish hair that -fell, uncurled and waving in disheveled locks, down each side her white -cheeks and over her bosom. - -“I wish to talk with you, if you please, Marguerite.” - -She bent her head and silently gave him her hand, and suffered him to -lead her back toward the fire, where he placed her on the sofa, and -then, standing at the opposite corner of the hearth, and resting his -elbow on the mantelpiece, he spoke. - -“Marguerite, there is much that must be cleared up before there can -ever more be peace between us.” - -“Question me; it is your right, Philip,” she said, in a subdued tone, -steadying her trembling frame in a sitting posture on the sofa. - -“Recline, Marguerite; repose yourself while we converse,” he said, for -deeply displeased as he was, it moved his heart to see her sitting -there so white and gaunt. - -She took him at his word and sank down with her elbow on the piled-up -cushions, and her fingers run up through her lustrous tresses -supporting her head, and repeated. - -“Question me, Philip, it is your right!” - -“I must go far back. The scene of this evening has awakened other -recollections, not important by themselves, but foreboding, -threatening, in connection with what has occurred to-night. I allude -in the first place to those yearly migrations of yours that so puzzled -your friends; will you now explain them to me?” - -“Philip, ask to take the living, beating heart from my bosom and you -shall do it--but I cannot give you the explanation you desire,” she -answered, in a mournful tone. - -“You cannot!” he repeated, growing white and speaking through his -closed teeth. - -“I cannot, alas! Philip, it concerns another.” - -“Another! Man or woman?” - -“Neith--oh, Heaven, Philip, I cannot tell you!” - -“Very well,” he said, but there was that in his tone and manner that -made his simple exclamation more alarming than the bitterest reproaches -and threats could have been. - -“Philip! Philip! these things occurred before our engagement, and -you heard of them. Forgive me for reminding you that you might have -requested an explanation of them, and if refused, you might have -withdrawn.” - -“No, Marguerite! I am amazed to hear you say so. I had no right then -to question your course of conduct; it would have been an unpardonable -insult to you to have done so; moreover, I thoroughly confided in -the honor of a woman whom I found at the head of the best society, -respected, flattered, followed, courted, as you were. I never could -have foreseen that such a woman would bring into our married life an -embarrassing mystery, which I beg her now to elucidate.” - -“Yet it is a pity, oh! what a pity that you had not asked this -elucidation a year since!” exclaimed Marguerite, in a voice of anguish. - -“Why? Would you then have given it to me?” - -“Alas! no, for my power to do so was no greater then than now. But -then, at least, on my refusal to confide this affair (that concerns -others, Philip) to you, you might have withdrawn from me--now, alas! it -is too late.” - -“Perhaps not,” remarked Mr. Helmstedt, in a calm, but significant tone. - -“My God! what mean you, Philip?” exclaimed his wife, starting up from -her recumbent position. - -“To question you farther--that is all for the present.” - -She sank down again and covered her face with her hands. He continued. - -“Recall, Marguerite, the day of our betrothal. There was a fierce -anguish, a terrible conflict in your mind before you consented to -become my wife; that scene has recurred to me again and again. Taken as -a link in this chain of inexplicable circumstances connected with you, -it becomes of serious importance. Will you explain the cause of your -distress upon the occasion referred to?” - -A groan was her only answer, while her head remained buried in the -cushions of the sofa. - -“So! you will not even clear up that matter?” - -“Not ‘will not,’ but cannot, Philip, cannot!” - -“Very well,” he said, again, in a tone that entered her heart like a -sword, and made her start up once more and gaze upon him, exclaiming: - -“Oh, Philip, be merciful! I mean be just! Remember, on the day to -which you allude, I warned you, warned you faithfully of much misery -that might result from our union; and even before that--oh! remember, -Philip, how sedulously I avoided you--how I persevered in trying to -keep off the--I had nearly said--catastrophe of our engagement.” - -“Say it then! nay, you have said it! add that I followed and persecuted -you with my suit until I wrested from you a reluctant consent, and that -I must now bear the consequences!” - -“No, no, no, I say not that, nor anything like it. No, Philip, my -beloved, my idolized, I am not charging you; Heaven forbid! I am put -upon my defense, you know, and earnestly desire to be clear before -my judge. Listen then, Philip, to this much of a confession. When -I first met you I felt your influence over me. Take this to your -heart, Philip, as a shield against doubt of me--you are the first -and last and only man I ever loved, if love be the word for that -all-pervading power that gives me over body, soul and spirit to your -possession. As I said when I first met you, I felt your influence. -Day by day this spell increased, and I knew that you were my fate! -Yet I tried to battle it off, but even at the great distance I kept I -still felt your power growing, Philip, and I knew, I knew that that -power would be irresistible! I had resolved never to marry, because, -yes! I confess I had a secret (concerning others, you know, Philip), -that I could not confide to any other, even to you; therefore I fled -your presence--therefore when you overtook and confronted me I warned -you faithfully, you know with how little effect! heart and soul I was -yours, Philip! you knew it and took possession. And now we are united, -Philip, God be thanked, for with all the misery it may bring me, -Philip, I am still less wretched than I should be apart from you. And -such, I believe, is the case with you. You are happier now, even with -the cloud between us, than you would be if severed from me! Ah, Philip, -is there any misfortune so great as separation to those whose lives are -bound up in each other? Is not the cloudiest union more endurable than -dreary severance?” - -“That depends, Marguerite!--there is another link in this dark chain -that I would have explained--the letter you received this evening.” - -“The letter--oh, God! have mercy on me,” she cried, in a half smothered -voice. - -“Yes, the letter!” repeated Mr. Helmstedt, coolly, with his eyes still -fixed steadily upon her pallid countenance that could scarcely bear his -gaze. - -“Oh! I told you--that it--was from an acquaintance--who--confided to me -some of her troubles--which--was intended for no other eye but mine. -Yes! that was what I told you, Philip,” said Marguerite, confused, yet -struggling almost successfully for self-control. - -“Yes, I know you did, and doubtless told me truly so far as you spoke; -but your manner was not truthful, Marguerite. You affected to treat -that letter lightly, yet you took care to destroy it; you talked, -jested, laughed with unprecedented gayety; your manner completely -deceived me, though as I look at it from my present view it was a -little overdone. You sang and played, and became Thalia, Allegra, ‘for -this night only,’ and when the point toward which all this acting -tended, came, and you made your desire known to me, you affected to -put it as a playful test of my confidence, a caprice; but when you -found your bagatelle treated seriously, and your desire steadily and -gravely refused, Marguerite, your acting all was over. And now I demand -an explanation of your conduct, for, Marguerite, deception will be -henceforth fruitless forever!” - -“Deception!” - -“Yes, madam, that was the word I used, purposely and with a full -appreciation of the meaning,” said Mr. Helmstedt, sternly. - -“Deception! Heaven and earth! deception charged by you upon me!” she -exclaimed, and then sank down, covering her face with her hands and -whispering to her own heart, “I am right--I am right, he must never be -told--he would never be just.” - -“I know that the charge I have made is a dishonoring one, madam, but -its dishonor consists in its truth. I requested you to explain that -letter; and I await your reply.” - -“Thus far, Philip, I will explain: that--yes!--that letter was--a -connecting link in the chain of circumstances you spoke of--it brought -me news of--that one’s peril of which I told you, and made me, still -leaves me, how anxious to go to--that one’s help. Could you but trust -me?” - -“Which I cannot now do, which I can never again entirely do. The woman -who could practice upon me as you have done this evening, can never -more be fully trusted! Still, if you can satisfactorily account for -your strange conduct, we may yet go on together with some measure -of mutual regard and comfort; which is, I suppose, all that, after -the novelty of the honeymoon is past, ordinarily falls to the lot -of married people. The glamour, dotage, infatuation, that deceived -us into believing that our wedded love was something richer, rarer, -diviner than that of other mortals like us, is forever gone! And the -utmost that I venture to hope now, Mrs. Helmstedt, is that your speedy -explanation may prove that, with this mystery, you have not brought -dishonor on the family you have entered.” - -“Dishonor!” cried Marguerite, dropping her hands, that until now had -covered her face, and gazing wildly at her husband. - -“Aye, madam, dishonor!” - -“Great Heaven! had another but yourself made that charge!” she -exclaimed, in a voice deep and smothered with intense emotion. - -“The deception of which you stand convicted is in itself dishonor, and -no very great way from deeper dishonor! You need not look so shocked, -madam, (though that may be acting also.) Come, exculpate yourself!” he -said, fiercely, giving vent to the storm of jealous fury that had been -gathering for hours in his breast. - -But his wife gazed upon him with the look of one thunder-stricken, as -she replied: - -“Oh, doubtless, Mr. Helmstedt, you have the right to do what you will -with your own, even to the extremity of thus degrading her.” - -“No sarcasms, if you please, madam; they ill become your present -ambiguous position. Rather clear yourself. Come, do it; for if I find -that you have brought shame----” - -“Philip!” - -Without regarding her indignant interruption, he went on: - -“Upon the honorable name you bear--by the living Lord that hears me! I -will take justice in my own hands and--kill you!” - -She had continued to gaze upon him with her great, dark eyes, standing -forth like burning stars until the last terrible words fell from his -lips--when, dropping her eyelids, her face relaxed into a most dubious -and mournful smile, as she said: - -“That were an easier feat than you imagine, Philip. The heart burns too -fiercely in this breast to burn long. Your words add fuel to the flame. -But in this implied charge upon your wife, the injustice that you do -her, is nothing compared to the great wrong you inflict upon your own -honor.” - -“Once more--will you clear yourself before me?” - -“No.” - -“What! ‘No?’” - -“No! Alas! why multiply words, when all is contained in that -monosyllable?” - -“What is the meaning of this, madam?” - -“That your three-months wife, even while acknowledging your right to -command her, disobeys you, because she must, Philip! she must! but even -in so doing, she submits herself to you to meet uncomplainingly all -consequences--yes, to say short, they are natural and just! Philip, you -have my final answer. Do your will! I am yours!” - -And saying this, she arose, and with a manner full of loving -submission, went to his side, laid her hand lightly upon his arm and -looked up into his face. - -But he shook that hand off as if it had been a viper; and when she -replaced it, and again looked pleadingly up into his face, he took her -by the arm and whirled her off toward the sofa, where she dropped amid -the cushions, and then with a fierce, half-arrested oath, he flung -himself out of the room. - -“I cannot blame him: no one could. Oh, God,” she cried, sinking down -and burying her head amid the cushions. Quickly with sudden energy she -arose, and went to the window and looked out; the sky was still darker -with clouds than with night; but the wind had ceased and the sea was -quiet. She returned toward the fireplace and rang the bell, which was -speedily answered by Forrest. - -Forrest, the son of her old nurse, Aunt Hapsy, was a tall, stalwart, -jet-black negro of some fifty years of age, faithfully and devotedly -attached to his mistress, and whose favorite vanity it was to boast -that--Laws! niggers! he had toted Miss Marget about in his arms, of’en -an’ of’en when she was no more’n so high, holding his broad black palm -about two feet from the ground. - -“How is the weather, Forrest?” inquired Mrs. Helmstedt, who was now at -the cabinet, that I have mentioned as standing to the right of the -fireplace, and writing rapidly. - -“Bad ’nough, Miss Marget, ma’am, I ’sures you.” - -“The wind has stopped.” - -“O’ny to catch his breaf, Miss Marget, ma’am. He’ll ’mence ’gain -strong’n ever--you’ll hear--’cause ef he didn’t stop at de tide comin’ -in, dis ebenen, he ain’t gwine stop till it do go out to-morrow morn’n.” - -Mrs. Helmstedt had finished writing, folded, closed and directed a -letter, which she now brought to her messenger. - -“Forrest, I don’t wish you to endanger your life by venturing to cross -to the shore in a gale, but I wish this letter posted in time to go -out in the mail at six o’clock to-morrow morning, and so you may take -charge of it now; and if the wind should go down at any time to-night, -you can carry it to the post office.” - -“Miss Marget, ma’am, it goes. I ain’t gwine to ask no win’ no leave to -take your letter to de pos’--when you wants it go it goes,” said the -faithful creature, putting the letter carefully into his breast pocket. - -“Any oder orders, Miss Marget, ma’am?” - -“No, only take care of yourself.” - -Forrest bowed reverently and went out, softly closing the door behind -him. - -Marguerite went and sat down on the sofa, and drew a little workstand -toward her, on which she rested both elbows, while she dropped her -forehead upon the palms of her hands. She had scarcely sat down, when -Philip Helmstedt, as from second thought, re-entered the room, from -which, indeed, he had scarcely been absent ten minutes. Marguerite -dropped her hands and looked up with an expression of welcome in -her face; Mr. Helmstedt did not glance toward her, but went to the -cabinet--the upper portion of which was a bookcase--selected a volume, -and came and drew a chair to the corner of the fireplace opposite to -Marguerite’s sofa, sat down and seemed to read, but really studied -Marguerite’s countenance; and she felt that influence, though now, -while her head rested upon one arm leaned on the stand, her eyes were -never lifted from the floor. So passed some twenty minutes. - -Eleven o’clock struck. They were in the habit of taking some light -refreshments at this hour, before retiring for the night. And now the -door opened and Hildreth entered, bringing a waiter, upon which stood -two silver baskets, containing oranges and Malaga grapes, which she -brought and placed upon the stand before her mistress, and then retired. - -Mr. Helmstedt threw down his book, drew his chair to the stand, and -took up and peeled an orange, which he placed upon a plate with a bunch -of grapes, and offered to Marguerite. - -She looked up to see what promise there might be in this act, ready, -anxious to meet any advance half-way; but she saw in his stern brow -and averted eyes, no hope of present reconciliation, and understood -that this form of courtesy sprang only from the habitual good breeding, -that ever, save when passion threw him off his guard, governed all his -actions. She received the plate with a faint smile and a “thank you,” -and made a pretense of eating by shredding the orange and picking to -pieces the bunch of grapes; while Mr. Helmstedt, on his part, made -no pretense whatever, but having served Marguerite, retired to his -chair and book. She looked after him, her heart full to breaking, and -presently rising she rang for her maid, and retired. - -Hildreth, the confidential maid of Mrs. Helmstedt, was a good-looking, -comfortable, matronly woman, over forty years of age, very much -like her brother Forrest in the largeness of her form, and the -shining darkness of her skin, as well as in her devoted attachment -to her mistress. She was a widow, and the mother of four stalwart -boys, who were engaged upon the fisheries belonging to the island. -For the rest, Hildreth was an uncharitable moralist, and a strict -disciplinarian, visiting the sins of the fathers upon the children in -her bitter intolerance of mulattoes. Hildreth affected grave Quaker -colors for her gowns, and snow-white, cotton cloth for her turbans, -neck-handkerchiefs, and aprons. Can you see her now? her large form -clad in gray linsey, a white handkerchief folded across her bosom and -tied down under the white apron, and her jet-black, self-satisfied -face surmounted by the white turban? Hildreth was not the most refined -and delicate of natures, and consequently her faithful affection for -her mistress was sometimes troublesome from its intrusiveness. This -evening, in attending Mrs. Helmstedt to her room, she saw at once the -signs of misery on her face, and became exacting in her sympathy. - -Was her mistress sick? had she a headache? would she bathe her feet? -would she have a cup of tea? what could she do for her? And when Mrs. -Helmstedt gave her to understand that silence and darkness, solitude -and rest were all she required, Hildreth so conscientiously interpreted -her wishes that she closed every shutter, drew down every blind, and -lowered every curtain of the windows, to keep out the sound of the wind -and sea; turned the damper to keep the stove from “roaring,” stopped -the clock to keep it from “ticking,” ejected a pet kitten to keep it -from “purring,” closed the curtains around her lady’s bed, and having -thus, as far as human power could, secured profound silence and deep -darkness, she quietly withdrew, without even moving the air with a -“good-night.” - -There is no fanaticism like the fanaticism of love, whether it exists -in the bosom of a cloistered nun, wrapped in visions of her Divine -Bridegroom, or in that of a devoted wife, a faithful slave, or a poor -dog who stretches himself across the grave of his master and dies. That -love, that self-abnegating love, that even in this busy, struggling, -proud, sensual world, where a cool heart, with a clear head and elastic -conscience, are the elements of success, still lives in obscure places -and humble bosoms; that love that, often misunderstood, neglected, -scorned, martyred, still burns till death, burns beyond--to what does -it tend? To that spirit world where all good affections, all beautiful -dreams, and divine aspirations shall be proved to have been prophecies, -shall be abundantly realized. - -Such thoughts as these did not pass through the simple mind of -Hildreth, any more than they would have passed through the brain of -poor Tray, looking wistfully in his master’s thoughtful face, as -she went down to the parlor, and, curtseying respectfully, told her -master that she feared Mrs. Helmstedt was very ill. That gentleman -gave Hildreth to understand that she might release herself of -responsibility, as he should attend to the matter. - -No sleep visited the eyes of Marguerite that night. It was after -midnight when Philip entered her chamber, and went to rest without -speaking to her. - -And from this evening, for many days, this pair, occupying the same -chamber, meeting at the same table, scarcely exchanged a glance or -word. Yet in every possible manner, Marguerite studied the comfort and -anticipated the wishes of her husband, who, on his part, now that the -first frenzy of his anger was over, did not fail in courtesy toward -her, cold, freezing, as that courtesy might be. Often Marguerite’s -heart yearned to break through this cold reserve; but it was impossible -to do so. Not the black armor of the Black Prince was blacker, harder, -colder, more impassable and repellent, than the atmosphere of frozen -self-retention in which Mr. Helmstedt encased himself. - -By her conduct, on that fatal evening, his love and pride had been -deeply, almost mortally wounded. A storm of contending astonishment, -indignation, wonder, and conjecture had been raised in his bosom. The -East, West, North and South, as it were, of opposite passions and -emotions had been brought together in fierce conflict. His glory in -Marguerite’s queenly nature had been met by humiliating doubt of her, -and his passionate love by anger that might settle into hate. And now -that the first chaotic violence of this tempest of warring thoughts -and feelings had subsided, he resumed his habitual self-control and -dignified courtesy, and determined to seek light upon the dark subject -that had occasioned the first estrangement between himself and his -beloved wife. He felt fully justified, even by his own nice code of -honor, in watching Marguerite closely. Alas! all he discovered in her -was a deeply-seated sorrow, not to be consoled, an intense anxiety -difficult to conceal, an extreme restlessness impossible to govern; -and through all a tender solicitude and affectionate deference toward -himself, that was perhaps the greatest trial to his dignity and -firmness. For, notwithstanding her fault, and his just anger, even he, -with his stern, uncompromising temper, found it difficult to live side -by side with that beautiful, impassioned, and fascinating woman, whom -he ardently loved, without becoming unconditionally reconciled to her. - -She, with the fine instinct of her nature, saw this, and knew that but -for the pride and scorn that forbade him to make the first advance, -they might become reconciled. She, proud as Juno toward all else, had -no pride toward those she loved, least of all toward him. Therefore, -one morning, when they had breakfasted as usual, without exchanging a -word, and Mr. Helmstedt had risen and taken his hat to leave the room, -Marguerite got up and slowly, hesitatingly, even bashfully, followed -him into the passageway, and, stealing to his side, softly and meekly -laid her hand and dropped her face upon his arm, and murmured: - -“Philip! I cannot bear this longer, dearest! my heart feels cold, and -lone, and houseless; take me back to my home in your heart, Philip.” - -There could have been nothing more alluring to him than this submission -of that proud, beautiful woman, and her whole action was so full of -grace, tenderness, and passion that his firmness gave way before it. -His arms glided around her waist, and his lips sought hers silently, -ere they murmured: - -“Come, then to your home in this bosom, beloved, where there is an -aching void, until you fill it.” - -And so a sweet, but superficial peace was sealed between the husband -and wife--so sweet that it was like a new bridal, so superficial that -the slightest friction might break it. No more for them on earth would -life be what it had been. A secret lay between them that Marguerite was -determined to conceal, and Philip had resolved to discover; and though -he would not again compromise his position toward her by demanding -an explanation sure to be refused, he did not for an hour relax his -vigilance and his endeavors to find a clew to her mystery. He attended -the post office, and left orders that letters for his family should -be delivered into no other hands but his own. He watched Marguerite’s -deportment, noting her fits of deep and mournful abstraction, her -sudden starts, her sleepless nights and cheerless days, and failing -health, and more than all, her distracting, maddening manner toward -himself, alternating like sunshine and darkness, passionate love, and -deep and fearful remorse as inexplicable as it was irradicable. - -Not another week of quiet domestic happiness, such as other people -have, was it henceforth their fate to know. Yet why should this have -been? Mutually loving and loved as devotedly as ever was a wedded pair, -blessed with the full possession of every good that nature and fortune -can combine to bestow, with youth, health, beauty, genius, riches, -honor--why should their wedded life be thus clouded? Why should she be -moody, silent, fitful often, all but wretched and despairing? Often -even emitting the wild gleam, like heat-lightning from her dark and -splendid eyes, of what might be incipient insanity? - -One evening, like the night described in the beginning of this chapter -(for stormy nights were now frequent), when the wind howled around the -island and the waves lashed its shores, Marguerite reclined upon the -semi-circular sofa within the recess of the bay window, and looked -out upon the night as she had often looked before. No light gleamed -from the window where the lady sat alone, gazing out upon the dark -and angry waste of waters; that stormy scene without was in unison -with the fierce, tempestuous emotions within her own heart--that -friendly veil of darkness was a rest to her, who, weary of her ill-worn -mask of smiles, would lay it aside for a while. Twice had Forrest -entered to bring lights, and twice had been directed to withdraw, -the last dismissal being accompanied with an injunction not to come -again until he should hear the bell. And so Marguerite sat alone in -darkness, her eyes and her soul roving out into the wild night over -the troubled bosom of the ever-complaining sea. She sat until the -sound of a boat pushed up upon the sand, accompanied by the hearty -tones and outspringing steps of the oarsmen, and followed by one -resonant, commanding voice, and firm, authoritative tread, caused her -heart to leap, her cheek to flush, her eye to glow and her whole dark -countenance to light up as she recognized the approach of her husband. -She sprang up and rang. - -“Lamps and wood, Forrest,” she said. But before the servant could obey -the order, Philip Helmstedt’s eager step crossed the threshold, and the -next instant his arms were around her and her head on his bosom. They -had been separated only for a day, and yet, notwithstanding all that -had passed and all that yet remained unexplained between them, theirs -was a lover’s meeting. Is any one surprised at this, or inclined to -take it as a sign of returning confidence and harmony, and a prognostic -of future happiness to this pair? Let them not be deceived! It was but -the warmth of a passion more uncertain than the sunshine of an April -day. - -“Sitting in darkness again, my own Marguerite? Why do you do so?” said -Philip, with tender reproach. - -“Why should I not?” returned Marguerite, smilingly. - -“Because it will make you melancholy, this bleak and dreary scene.” - -“No, indeed, it will not. It is a grand scene. Come, look out and see.” - -“Thank you, love; I have had enough of it for one evening; and I rather -wonder at your taste for it.” - -“Ah! it suits me--it suits me, this savage coast and weather! Rave on, -winds! thunder on, sea! my heart beats time to the fierce music of your -voices. ‘Deep calleth unto deep’--deep soul to deep sea!” - -“Marguerite!” - -“Well?” - -“What is the matter with you?” - -“Nothing: only I like this howling chaos of wind and water!” - -“You are in one of your dark moods.” - -“Could I be bright and you away?” - -“Flatterer! I am here now. And here are the lights. And now I have a -letter for you.” - -“A letter! Oh! give it quickly,” cried Marguerite, thrown off her guard. - -“Why, how hasty you are.” - -“True; I am daily expecting a letter from Nellie, and I do begin to -think that I have nerves. And now, to discipline these excitable -nerves, I will not look at the letter until after tea.” - -“Pooh, my love, I should much rather you would read it now and get it -off your mind,” said Philip Helmstedt, placing her in a chair beside -the little stand, and setting a lamp upon it, before he put the letter -in her hand. - -He watched her narrowly, and saw her lips grow white as she read the -postmark and superscription, saw the trembling of her fingers as she -broke the seal, and heard the half-smothered exclamation of joy as she -glanced at the contents; and then she quickly folded the letter, and -was about to put it into her pocket when he spoke. - -“Stay!” - -“Well!” - -“That letter was not from Mrs. Houston.” - -“No; you were aware of that; you saw the postmark.” - -“Yes, Marguerite; and I could have seen the contents had I chosen it, -and would, under all the circumstances, have been justified in so -doing; but I would not break your seal, Marguerite. Now, however, that -I have delivered the letter, and you have read it, I claim the right to -know its contents.” - -Marguerite held the letter close against her bosom, while she gazed -upon him in astonishment and expectation, not to say dread. - -“With your leave, my lady,” he said, approaching her; and, throwing -one arm around her shoulders, held her fast, while he drew the letter -from her relaxing fingers. She watched him while he looked again at the -postmark “New York,” which told next to nothing, and then opened and -read the contents--three words, without either date or signature, “All -is well!” that was all. - -He looked up at her. And her low, deep, melodious laughter--that -delicious laughter that charmed like music all who heard it, but that -now sounded wild and strange, answered his look. - -“Your correspondent has been well tutored, madam.” - -“Why, of course,” she said, still laughing; but presently growing -serious, she added: “Philip, would to God I could confide to you this -matter. It is the one pain of my life that I cannot. The time may come, -Philip, when I may be able to do so--but not now.” - -“Marguerite, it is but fair to tell you that I shall take every -possible means to discover your secret; and if I find that it reflects -discredit on you, by Heaven----” - -“Hush! for the sake of mercy, no rash vows. Why should it reflect -discredit upon any? Why should mystery be always in thought linked -with guilt? Philip, I am free from reproach!” - -“But, great Heavens! that it should be necessary to assure me of this! -I wonder that your brow is not crimsoned with the thought that it is -so.” - -“Ah, Philip Helmstedt, it is your own suspicious nature, your want of -charity and faith that makes it so,” said Marguerite. - -“Life has--the world has--deprived me of charity and faith, and taught -me suspicion--a lesson that I have not unlearned in your company, Mrs. -Helmstedt.” - -“Philip, dear Philip, still hope and trust in me; it may be that I -shall not wholly disappoint you,” she replied. - -But Mr. Helmstedt answered only by a scornful smile; and, having too -much pride to continue a controversy, that for the present, at least, -must only end in defeat, fell into silent and resentful gloom and -sullenness. - -The harmony and happiness of their island home was broken up; the -seclusion once so delightful was now insufferable; his presence on -the estate was not essentially necessary; and, therefore, after some -reflection, Philip Helmstedt determined to go to Richmond for a month -or six weeks. - -When he announced this intention to his wife, requesting her to be -ready to accompany him in a week, Marguerite received the news with -indifference and promised to comply. - -It was near the first of April when they reached Richmond. They had -secured apartments at the ---- House, where they were quickly sought -by Colonel Compton and Mrs. Houston, who came to press upon them, for -the term of their stay in Richmond, the hospitalities of the colonel’s -mansion. - -Marguerite would willingly have left the hotel for the more genial -atmosphere of her friend’s house; but she waited the will of Mr. -Helmstedt, who had an especial aversion to become the recipient of -private entertainment for any length of time, and, therefore, on -the part of himself and wife, courteously declined that friendly -invitation, promising at the same time to dine with them at an early -day. - -The colonel and his daughter finished their call and returned home -disappointed; Nellie with her instinctive dislike to Mr. Helmstedt much -augmented. - -The fashionable season was over, or so nearly so, that, to electrify -society into new life, it required just such an event as the -reappearance of its late idol as a bride, and Mrs. De Lancie Helmstedt -(for by the will of her father, his sole child and heiress was obliged -to retain her patronymic with her married name). - -Numerous calls were made upon the newly-wedded pair, and many parties -were given in their honor. - -Marguerite was still the reigning queen of beauty, song, and fashion, -with a difference--there was a deeper glow upon her cheeks and lips, -a wilder fire in her eyes, and in her songs a dashing recklessness -alternating with a depth of pathos that “from rival eyes unwilling -tears could summon.” Those who envied her wondrous charms did not -hesitate to apply to her such terms as “eccentric,” and even “partially -deranged.” While her very best friends, including Nellie Houston, -thought that, during her three months’ retirement on Helmstedts Island, -Marguerite had - - “Suffered a sea change - Into something wild and strange.” - -No more of those mysterious letters had come to her, at least among -those forwarded from their home post office, and nothing had transpired -to revive the memory of the exciting events on the island. But Mr. -Helmstedt, although he disdained to renew the topic, had not in -the least degree relaxed his vigilant watchfulness and persevering -endeavors to gain knowledge of Marguerite’s secret; vainly, for not -the slightest event occurred to throw light upon that dark subject. -Marguerite was not less tender and devoted in private than brilliant -and fascinating in public; and, despite his bounded confidence, he -could not choose but passionately love the beautiful and alluring -woman, who, with one reservation, so amply satisfied his love and pride. - -Their month’s visit drew to a close, when Mr. Helmstedt accepted an -invitation to a dinner given to Thomas Jefferson, in honor of his -arrival at the capital. Upon the day of the entertainment, he left -Marguerite at four o’clock. And as the wine-drinking, toasting, and -speech-making continued long after the cloth was removed, it was very -late in the evening before the company broke up and he was permitted to -return to his hotel. - -On entering first his private parlor, which was lighted up, he missed -Marguerite, who, with her sleepless temperament, usually kept very late -hours, and whom, upon the rare occasions of his absence from her in the -evening, he usually, when he returned, found still sitting up reading -while she awaited him. Upon glancing round the empty room, a vague -anxiety seized him and he hurried into the adjoining chamber, which he -found dark, and called in a low, distinct tone: - -“Marguerite! Marguerite!” - -But instead of her sweet voice in answer, came a silent, dreary sense -of vacancy and solitude. He hurried back into the parlor, snatched -up one of the two lighted lamps that stood upon the mantelpiece, and -hastened into the chamber, to find it indeed void of the presence -he sought. An impulse to ring and inquire when Mrs. Helmstedt had -gone out was instantly arrested by his habitual caution. A terrible -presentiment, that he thought scarcely justified by the circumstances, -disturbed him. He remembered that she could not have gone to any place -of amusement, for she never entered such scenes unaccompanied by -himself; besides, she had distinctly informed him that preparations -for departure would keep her busy in her room all the evening. He -looked narrowly around the chamber; the bed had not been disturbed, -the clothes closets and bureaus were empty, and the trunks packed and -strapped; but one, a small trunk belonging to Marguerite, was gone. The -same moment that he discovered this fact, his eyes fell upon a note -lying on the dressing-bureau. He snatched it up: it was directed in -Marguerite’s hand to himself. He tore it open, and with a deadly pale -cheek and darkly-lowering brow, read as follows: - - OUR PRIVATE PARLOR, ---- HOUSE, 6 P.M. - - MY BELOVED HUSBAND: A holy duty calls me from you for a few days, but - it is with a bleeding heart and foreboding mind that I go. Well do I - know, Philip, all that I dare in thus leaving without your sanction. - But equally well am I aware, from what has already passed, that that - sanction never could have been obtained. I pray you to forgive the - manner of my going, an extremity to which your former inflexibility - has driven me; and I even venture further to pray that, even now, you - will extend the shield of your authority over my absence, as your own - excellent judgment must convince you will be best. Philip, dearest, - you will make no stir, cause no talk--you will not even pursue me, - for, though you might follow me to New York, yet in that great - thoroughfare you would lose trace of me. But you will, as I earnestly - pray you to do, await, at home, the coming of your most unhappy but - devoted - - MARGUERITE. - -It would be impossible to describe the storm of outraged love and -pride, of rage, grief, and jealousy that warred in Philip Helmstedt’s -bosom. - -“Yes! by the eternal that hears me, I will wait her coming--and then! -then!” he muttered within himself as he cast the letter into the fire. -All night long, like a chafed lion in his cell, he paced the narrow -limits of his lonely apartments, giving ill vent to the fierceness -of his passions in half-muttered threats and curses, the deeper for -suppression. But when morning broke, and the world was astir, he -realized that he had to meet it, and his course was taken. His emotions -were repressed and his brow was cleared; he rang for his servant, made -a careful toilet, and at his usual hour, and with his usual appearance -and manner, descended to the breakfast table. - -“I hope Mrs. Helmstedt is not indisposed this morning,” said a lady -opposite, when she observed the vacant chair at his side. - -“Thank you, madam; Mrs. Helmstedt is perfectly well. She left for New -York last evening,” replied Mr. Helmstedt, with his habitual, dignified -courtesy. And this story went the rounds of the table, then of the -hotel, and then of the city, and though it excited surprise, proved in -the end satisfactory. - -Later in the day he took leave of his friends. And by the next -morning’s packet he sailed for the island, which he reached at the end -of the week. And once in his own little, isolated kingdom, he said: - -“Yes, I will await you here, and then, Marguerite! then!” - - - - -CHAPTER VI. THE WIFE’S RETURN. - - - “She had moved to the echoing sounds of fame-- - Silently, silently died her name; - Silently melted her life away - As ye have seen a rich flower decay, - Or a lamp that hath swiftly burned expire, - Or a bright stream shrink from a summer fire.” - -Nearly maddened between the deeply suppressed, conflicting passions -of wounded love, outraged pride, gloomy jealousy, fierce anger, -and burning desire of revenge, Philip Helmstedt’s impetuous spirit -would have devoured the time between his arrival at the island and -Marguerite’s expected return. Now feeling, through the magic power of -memory and imagination, the wondrous magnetism of her personality, and -praying for her arrival only that all else might be forgotten in the -rapture of their meeting--then, with all the force of his excessive -pride and scorn, sternly spurning that desire as most unworthy. Now -torturing himself with sinister speculations as to where she might be? -what doing? with whom tarrying? Then feeling intensely, as resentfully, -his indubitable right to know, and longing for her return that he -might make her feel the power of the man whose affection and whose -authority had been equally slighted and despised. And through all -these moods of love and jealousy still invoking, ever invoking, with a -breathless, burning impatience that would have consumed and shriveled -up the intervening days--the hour of her return; for still he doted on -her with a fatuity that neither possession nor time had power to sate, -nor pride nor anger force to destroy--nay, that these agencies only -goaded into frenzy. Strong man that he was, she possessed him like a -fever, a madness, a shrouding fire! he could not deliver himself from -the fascination of her individuality. Was she a modern Lamia, a serpent -woman who held him, another Lexius, in her fatal toils? So it sometimes -seemed to him as he walked moodily up and down the long piazza before -the house, looking out upon the sea. At all events she held him! very -well, let it be so, since he held her so surely, and she should feel -it! Oh! for the hour of her return! All day he paced the long piazza or -walked down to the beach, spyglass in hand, to look out for the packet -that should bear her to the isle. But packet after packet sailed by, -and day succeeded day until a month had passed, and still Marguerite -came not. And day by day Philip Helmstedt grew darker, thinner, and -gloomier. Sleep forsook his bed, and appetite his board; it often -happened that by night his pillow was not pressed, and by day his meals -were left untasted. - -Speculation was rife among the servants of the household. All -understood that something was wrong in the family. The Helmstedt -servants took the part of their master, while the De Lancie negroes -advocated the cause of their mistress. It was a very great trial to -poor old Aunt Hapzibah, the housekeeper, to find her best efforts -unavailing to make her master comfortable in the absence of her -mistress. Every one likes to be appreciated; and no one more than an -old family cook whose glory lies in her art; and so it proved too -much for the philosophy of the old woman, who had taken much pride in -letting “Marse Fillup see that eberyting went on as riglar as dough -Miss Marget was home hersef”--to see her best endeavors unnoticed -and her most _recherché_ dishes untasted. And so--partly for her -own relief, and partly for the edification of her underlings in the -kitchen, she frequently held forth upon the state of affairs in -something like the following style: - -“De Lord bress de day an’ hour as ever I toted mysef inter dis here -house! De Lord men’ it I pray! Wonner what Marse Fillup Hempseed mean -a-scornin’ my bes’ cook dishes? Better not keep on a-’spisin’ de Lord’s -good wittles--’deed hadn’ he if he is Marse Fillup Hempseed! Come to -want bread if he does--’deed will he! Set him up! What he ’spect? Sen’ -him young ducks an’ green peas? down dey comes ontotch! Try him wid -lily white weal an’ spinnidge? down it come ontaste! Sen’ up spring -chicken an’ sparrowgrass? all de same! I gwine stop of it now, I tell -you good! ’deed is I. I ain’t gwine be fool long o’ Marse Fillup -Hemps’d’s funnelly nonsense no longer! I gwine sen’ him up middlin’ -and greens, or mutton an’ turnups--you hear me good, don’t you?” - -“I wonder what does ail master?” remarked Hildreth. - -“I know what ail him well ’nough! I know de reason why he won’t eat his -wittles!” - -“What is it, den?” - -“He can’t eat anyt’ing else case he’s--eatin’ his own heart! An’ it -makes men mad--that sort o’ eatin’ does!” - -“My Lors!” ejaculated Hildreth, in real or affected horror. - -“Eatin’ his own heart,” continued old Hapzibah--“eatin’ his own -heart, wid his black eagle head an’ hook nose poke down in his buzzum -a-chawin’ an’ a-chawin’! Always a-chawin’ an’ a-chawin’! Walkin’ up an’ -down de peeazzy a-chawin’ an’ a-chawin’. Stan’in’ up to his screwtaw, -’tendin’ to write, but only a-chawin’ an’ a-chawin’. Settin’ down at de -table, a-chawin’ an’ a-chawin’--not my good wittles, mine you, but his -own heart--always his own heart. He better stop of it, too. It won’t -’gest, nor likewise ’gree wid him, nor udderwise fetch Miss Marget home -one minit ’fore she thinks proper for to come.” - -“Well, den, ennyways, t’ink it ’pears mon’ous strange your Miss Marget -don’t come home ef our Marse Fillup wants her to come,” here put in old -Neptune, one of the Helmstedt negroes. - -“Set him up wid it,” indignantly broke in Aunt Hapzibah--“set you an’ -your marse bofe up wid it. Who de sarpent! he? or you either? I reckon -my Miss Marget allers went an’ come when ebber she thought proper, -’fore ebber she saw de hook nose o’ Marse Fillup Hempseed, of any -his low-life saut water niggers either. Not as I tends for to hurt -your feelin’s, Nep; you can’t help bein’ of an’ antibberous creetur -like a lan’ tarrapin or a water dog, as ’longs to nyther to’ther nor -which, nor likewise to hit you in de teef wid your marster, who is a -right ’spectable, ’sponsible, ’greeable gemplemun, ef he’d leave off -a-hookin’ of his crook nose inter his buzzum an’ a-chawin’ his own -heart; which he’d better, too, or it’ll run him rampin’ mad!--you see, -chillun, you see!” - -One afternoon, during the last week in May, Philip Helmstedt, as usual, -walked up and down the beach in front of his mansion house. With -his arms folded and his head bowed upon his chest, in deep thought, -he paced with measured steps up and down the sands. Occasionally he -stopped, drew a small spyglass from his pocket, placed it at his eye, -and swept the sea to the horizon. - -Before him, miles away to the westward, lay the western shore of -Maryland and Virginia, cloven and divided by the broad and bay-like -mouth of the Potomac--with Point Lookout on the north and Point Rodgers -on the south. Beyond this cleft coast the western horizon was black -with storm clouds. A freshening gale was rising and rushing over the -surface of the water, rippling its waves, and making a deep, low, -thrilling murmur, as if Nature, the _improvvisatrice_, swept the -chords of her grand harp in a prelude to some sublime performance. -Occasionally flocks of sea fowl, sailing slowly, lighted upon the -island or the shores. All signs indicated an approaching storm. Philip -Helmstedt stood, telescope in hand, traversing the now dark and angry -waste of waters. Far, far away up the distant Potomac, like a white -speck upon the black waters, came a vessel driven before the wind, -reeling against the tide, yet gallantly holding her course and hugging -the Maryland coast. Marguerite might be in that packet (as, indeed, she -might have been in any passing packet for the last month), and Philip -Helmstedt watched its course with great interest. Nearing the mouth of -the river, the packet veered away to avoid the strong current around -Point Lookout, and, still struggling between wind and tide, steered for -the middle of the channel. Soon she was clear of the eddies and out -into the open bay, with her head turned southward. Then it was that -Philip observed a boat put out from her side. A convincing presentiment -assured him that Marguerite had arrived. The gale was now high and -the sea rough; and that little boat, in which he felt sure that she -was seated, would have but a doubtful chance between winds and waves. -Dread for Marguerite’s safety, with the eagle instinct to swoop upon -and seize his coveted prey, combined to instigate Philip Helmstedt to -speedy action. He threw down the spyglass and hastened along the beach -until he came to the boathouse, where he unfastened a skiff, threw -himself into it and pushed off from the shore. A more skillful sailor -than Philip Helmstedt never handled an oar--a gift inherited from all -his seafaring forefathers and perfected by years of practice. He pushed -the boat on amid heaving waves and flashing brine, heedless of the -blinding spray dashed into his face, until he drew sufficiently near -the other boat to see that it was manned by two oarsmen, and then to -recognize Marguerite as its passenger. And in another moment the boats -were side by side. Philip Helmstedt was standing resting on his oar, -and Marguerite had risen with one low-toned exclamation of joy. - -“Oh! Mr. Helmstedt, this is very kind; thank you--thank you.” - -He did not reply by word or look. - -The wind was so high, the water so rough, and the skiffs so light that -they were every instant striking together, rebounding off, and in -imminent danger of being whirled in the waves and lost. - -“Quick, men; shift Mrs. Helmstedt’s baggage into this boat,” commanded -Mr. Helmstedt, as with averted eyes he coldly took Marguerite’s hand -and assisted her to enter his skiff. The two men hastily transferred -the little traveling trunk that comprised Marguerite’s whole -baggage--and then, with a respectful leave-taking, laid to their oars -and pulled rapidly to overtake the vessel. - -Philip and Marguerite were left alone. Without addressing her, he -turned the head of the skiff and rowed for the island. The first -flush of pleasure had died from Marguerite’s face, leaving her very -pale--with a pallor that was heightened by the nunlike character of -her costume, which consisted simply of a gown, mantle and hood, all of -black silk. For some moments Marguerite fixed her large, mournful eyes -upon the face of her husband, vainly trying to catch his eyes, that -remained smoldering under their heavy lids. Then she suddenly spoke to -him. - -“Philip! will you not forgive me?” - -The thrilling, passionate, tearful voice, for once, seemed not to -affect him. He made no answer. She gazed imploringly upon his face--and -saw, and shuddered to see that an ashen paleness had overspread his -cheek, while his eyes remained rooted to the bottom of the boat. - -“Philip! oh! Heaven--speak to me, Philip!” she cried, in a voice of -anguish, laying her hand and dropping her sobbing face upon his knee. - -The effect was terrible. Spurning her from him, he sprang to his feet, -nearly capsizing the skiff, that rocked fearfully under them, and -exclaimed: - -“I do not know where you find courage to lift your eyes to my face, -madam, or address me! Where have you been? Come, trifling is over -between us! Explain, exculpate yourself from suspicion! or these waters -shall engulf at once your sin and my dishonor!” - -“Philip! Philip!” she cried, in a voice of thrilling misery. - -“Explain! explain! or in another moment God have mercy on your soul!” -he exclaimed, drawing in the oar, planting its end heavily on the prow -of the skiff, in such a manner that by leaning his weight upon it he -could capsize the boat--standing there, glaring upon her. - -“Philip! Philip! for the Saviour’s sake, sit down,” she cried, wringing -her pale fingers in an ecstasy of terror. - -“Coward! coward! coward! you fear death, and do not fear me nor shame!” -said Philip Helmstedt, his eyes burning upon her with a consuming scorn -that seemed to dry up her very heart’s blood. “Once more, and for the -last time, madam, will you explain?” - -“Philip! mercy!” - -“Commend yourself to the mercy of Heaven! I have none!” cried Philip -Helmstedt, about to throw his whole weight upon the oar to upset the -boat, when Marguerite, with a shriek, sprung up and clasped his knees, -exclaiming: - -“Mercy! Philip! it is not my life I beg at your hands; it were not -worth the prayer! but another innocent life, Philip, spare your child,” -and fainted at his feet. - -The boat, shaken by this violent scene, was rocking fearfully, and -he had much ado to steady it, while Marguerite lay in a dead heap at -his feet. The frenzy of his anger was passing for the present. The -announcement that she had just made to him, her swoon and her perfect -helplessness, as well as that majestic beauty, against the influence of -which he had been struggling through all this scene, combined to sway -his frantic purpose. He stood like a man awakened from a nightmare, -recovered from a fever, come to himself. After cautiously trimming -the boat, and letting it drift until it had spent the violence of the -impetus, he took up the oar, turned its head, and rowed swiftly toward -the island. Pushing the skiff up upon the sand, he got out and fastened -it, and then went to lift Marguerite, who, on being raised, sighed and -opened her eyes, and said, a little wildly and incoherently: - -“You will never be troubled by any more letters, Philip.” - -“Ah?” - -“No! and I will never leave you again, Philip.” - -“I intend that you never shall have the opportunity, my--Marguerite.” - -She had, with his assistance, risen to her feet, and, leaning on his -arm, she suffered herself to be led up the slope toward the house. -The whole sky was now overcast and blackened. The wind so buffeted -them that Marguerite could scarcely stand, much less walk against it. -Philip had to keep his arm around her shoulders, and busy himself with -her veil and mantle, that were continually blown and flapped into her -face and around her head. By the time they had reached the house, and -dispatched Forrest to put the boat away and bring the trunk home, the -storm had burst. - -All night the tempest raged. Marguerite, in the midst of all her -private trouble, was sleepless with anxiety for the fate of the little -vessel she had left. But for Philip, a navy might have been engulfed, -and he remained unconcerned by anything aside from his own domestic -wrong. The next morning the terrible devastation of the storm was -revealed in the torn forests, prostrate fences and ruined crops. Early -Marguerite, with her spyglass, was on the lookout at the balcony of her -chamber window, that was immediately over the bay window of the parlor, -and commanded a magnificent sea view. And soon she had the relief of -seeing the poor little bark safely sheltered in Wicomia inlet. With a -sigh of gratitude, Marguerite turned from that instance of salvation to -face her own doubtful, if not dangerous, prospect. Philip Helmstedt, -since bringing her safely to the house, had not noticed her by word -or look. He remained silent, reserved, and gloomy--in a mood that -she dreaded to interrupt, lest she should again rouse him to some -repetition of his fury on the boat; but in every gentle and submissive -way she sought to soothe, accepting all his scornful repulses with the -patience of one offending where she loved, yet unable to do otherwise, -and solicitous to atone. It was difficult to resist the pleading eyes -and voice of this magnetic woman, yet they were resisted. - -In this constrained and painful manner a week passed, and brought the -first of June, when Colonel Houston and his family came down to their -seat at Buzzard’s Bluff. Mr. and Mrs. Helmstedt were seated at their -cold, _tête-à-tête_ breakfast table when Nellie’s messenger, Lemuel, -came in with a note announcing her arrival at home, and begging her -dearest Marguerite, as the sky was so beautiful and the water so calm, -to come at once and spend the day with her. - -The mournful face of Marguerite lighted up with a transient smile; -passing the note across the table to Mr. Helmstedt, she said: - -“I will go,” and then rang the bell and directed Forrest, who answered -it, to conduct the messenger into the kitchen, give him breakfast, and -then get the boat _Nereide_ ready to take her to Buzzard’s Bluff. The -man bowed and was about to leave the room, when Mr. Helmstedt looked up -from his note and said, “Stop!” - -Forrest paused, hat in hand, waiting in respectful silence for his -master’s speech. After a moment, Mr. Helmstedt said: - -“No matter, another time will do; hasten to obey your mistress now.” - -The two men then withdrew, and Mr. Helmstedt turned to his wife, and -said: - -“Upon second thoughts, I would not countermand your order, madam, or -humble you in the presence of your servants. But you cannot leave this -island, Mrs. Helmstedt.” - -“Dear Philip--Mr. Helmstedt! what mean you?” - -“That you are a prisoner! That you have been such since your last -landing! and that you shall remain such--if it be for fifty years--do -you hear?--until you choose to clear up the doubt that rests upon your -conduct!” - -“Mr. Helmstedt, you do not mean this!” exclaimed the lady, rising -excitedly from her seat. - -“Not?--look, Marguerite!” he replied, rising, and following her to -the window, where she stood with her large, mournful eyes now wildly -glancing from the bright, glad waters without to the darkened room and -the stern visaged man within. “Look, Marguerite! This island is a mile -long, by a quarter of a mile wide--with many thousand acres, with deep, -shady woods and pleasant springs and streams and breezy beaches--almost -room, variety and pleasure enough for a home. Your house is, besides, -comfortable, and your servants capable and attentive. I say your house -and servants, for here you shall be a queen if you like----” - -“A captive queen--less happy than a free scullion!” - -“A captive by your own contumacy, lady. And, mark me, I have shown -you the limit of your range--this island--attempt to pass it and your -freedom of motion, now bounded only by the sea, shall be contracted -within the walls of this house, and so the space shall narrow around -you, Marguerite, until----” - -“Six feet by two will suffice me!” - -“Aye! until then, if need be!” - -“Mr. Helmstedt, you cannot mean this--you are a gentleman!” - -“Or was; but never a fool, or a tool, lady! God knows--Satan knows how -strongly and exclusively I have loved--still love! but you have placed -me in a false and humiliating position, where I must take care of your -honor and mine as best I may. You cannot imagine that I can permit -you to fly off, year after year, whither, with whom, to whom, for -what purpose I know not, and you refuse to tell! You left me no other -alternative, Marguerite but to repudiate----” - -“Oh! no, no! sweet Heaven, not that! You love me, Philip Helmstedt! I -know you do. You could kill, but could not banish me! I could die, but -could not leave you, Philip!” interrupted his wife, with an outbreak of -agony that started cold drops of dew from her forehead. - -“Compose yourself. I know that we are tied together (not so much by -church and state as by something inherent in the souls of both) for -weal or woe, blessing or cursing, heaven or hell--who can say? But -assuredly tied together for time and for eternity!” - -“God be thanked for that, at worst!” exclaimed Marguerite, fervently. -“Anything--anything but the death to live, of absence from you, Philip! -Oh, why did you use that murderous word?” - -“You left me no other alternative than to repudiate----” - -“Ah!” cried Marguerite, as if again the word had pierced her heart. - -“Or--I was about to say--restrain you. I cannot repudiate--I must -restrain you. You, yourself, must see the propriety of the measure.” - -“But, Philip, my husband, do you mean to say that I may not even visit -Mrs. Houston?” - -“I mean to say that until you satisfactorily explain your late -escapade, you shall not leave the island for any purpose whatever.” - -“Not even to visit Nellie?” - -“Not even to visit Mrs. Houston.” - -“Philip, she will expect me; she will come and invite me to her house; -what shall I say to my bosom friend in explanation? or, keeping -silence, what shall I leave her to think?” - -“Say what you please to Mrs. Houston; tell her the truth, or decline to -explain the motives of your seclusion to her--even as you have refused -to exhibit the purpose of your journeys to me. You can do these things, -Mrs. Helmstedt.” - -“Oh, Heaven! but the retort is natural. What will Colonel Compton think -or say?” - -“Refer Colonel Compton to me for an elucidation. I am always ready, -Marguerite, to answer for my course of conduct, though I may seldom -recognize the right of any man to question it.” - -“I could even plead for an exception in favor of my little Nellie but -that I know your inflexible will, Philip.” - -“It is scarcely more so than your own; but now, do you forget that -there is an answer to be written to Mrs. Houston?” - -“Ah, yes,” said Marguerite, going to the escritoire that we have -already named, and hastily writing a few words. - - “DEAREST NELLIE:--I am not well and cannot go to you; waive ceremony, - beloved, and come to your Marguerite.” - -Meanwhile Mr. Helmstedt rang for Mrs. Houston’s messenger, who, he was -informed, had gone down to the beach to assist Forrest in rigging the -_Nereide_. - -“We will walk down to the beach and send him home,” said Mr. Helmstedt, -taking his straw hat and turning toward Marguerite. She arose to -join him, and they walked out together across the front piazza, down -the steps, and down the terraced garden, through the orchard and the -timothy field, and, finally, to the sanded beach, where they found the -two negroes rigging the boat. - -“Mrs. Helmstedt will not go, Forrest, so that you may leave the bark. -Lemuel, you will take this note to your mistress, and say that we shall -be glad to see the family here.” - -Marguerite had not been down on the sands since the stormy evening of -her arrival, and now she noticed, with astonishment, that of all the -little fleet of some half-dozen boats of all sizes that were usually -moored within the boathouse but a single one, the little _Nereide_, -remained; and she saw that drawn into the house, the door of which was -chained and locked and the key delivered up to Mr. Helmstedt. When this -was done and the men had gone, Marguerite turned to her husband for an -explanation. - -“Why, where are all the boats, Mr. Helmstedt?” - -“Sold, given away, broken up, dispersed--all except this one, which -will serve the necessities of myself and men.” - -“But why, Philip?” - -“Can you not surmise? You are a prisoner--it is no jest, Marguerite--a -prisoner! and we do not leave the means of escape near such. I am not -playing with you, Marguerite! You fled me once, and maddened me almost -to the verge of murder and suicide.” - -“I know it. Oh, Heaven forgive me!” - -“And you must have no opportunity for repeating that experiment. Your -restraint is a real one, as you will find.” - -She turned upon him a look so full of love, resignation and devotion, -as she held out both her hands and said: - -“Well, I accept the restraint, Philip. I accept it. Oh, my dear -husband, how much more merciful than that other alternative of -separation! for your Marguerite tells you, Philip, that, would it -come without sin, she would rather take death from your hands than -banishment. The one great terror of her life, Philip, is of losing you -by death or separation; she could not survive the loss, Philip, for her -very life lives in your bosom. How can a widow live? Your Marguerite -could not breathe without you; while with you, from you she could -accept anything--anything. Since you do not banish her, do your will -with her; you have the right; she is your own.” - -A few more words sighed out upon his bosom, to which he at last had -drawn her, and then, lifting her head, she murmured: - -“And listen, dearest husband; give yourself no care or anxiety for the -safe custody of your prisoner, for she will not try to escape. It is -your command, dearest Philip, that binds me to the narrow limits of -this island, as no other earthly power could do. You know me, Philip; -you know that, were I in duress against my will, I would free myself; I -would escape, were it only to heaven or to hades! Your bond, Philip, is -not on this mortal frame, but on my heart, soul, spirit, and I should -feel its restricting power were all nature else beckoning me over the -limits you have prescribed, and all opportunities favorable to the -transgression.” - -“You love me so; you say your life lives within mine, and I believe -it does, for you inhabit me, you possess me, nor can I unhouse -you, incendiary as you are--and yet you will not give me your -confidence--will not justify yourself before me--while I, on my part, -may not abate one jot or tittle of your restraint until you do.” - -“I do not arraign you even in my thoughts, love; so far from that, I -accept you for my judge; I submit to your sentence. There is this dark -cloud settled on my bowed head, love (would it rested only on my own), -and some day it may be lifted. In the meantime, since you do not exile -me, do your royal will unquestioned with your own, my king. Ah, Philip! -we are not angels, you and I; and we may never find heaven in this -world or the next; but, such as we are, even with this cloud between -us, we love each other; on this earth we cannot part; and even in the -next we must be saved or lost--together.” - -“Marguerite, tell me, is there a hope that, one day, this mystery may -be cleared up?” - -“Philip, dearest, yes; a faint hope that I scarcely dare to entertain.” - -During all this time she had been standing within his circling arm, -with her face upon his shoulder, and her soft, fragrant ringlets -flowing past his cheek. Now, as she lifted her head, her wild, mournful -eyes fell upon a distant sail skimming rapidly over the surface of the -sparkling water, from the direction of Buzzard’s Bluff. - -“Nellie is coming, dear husband,” she said, “but she shall know that it -is my own pleasure to stay home, as it truly is since you will it.” - -“No concealment for my sake, Marguerite. I tell you, I will answer for -what I do. Kiss me now, thou cleaving madness, before that boat comes.” - -On bounded the little sailboat over the flashing water, and presently -drew so near that Nellie, in her green hood, could be recognized. And -in a few more minutes the little boat touched the beach, and Nellie, -with her two boys, as she called her stepsons, jumped ashore and ran to -greet Marguerite and Mr. Helmstedt. - -“And here are my boys, whom you have never seen before, Marguerite. -Ralph, speak to Mrs. Helmstedt. Franky, that’s not the way to make a -bow, sir, pulling a lock of your hair; you must have learned that from -Black Lem. Ralph does not do so; he’s a gentleman,” said the young -stepmother. - -Marguerite, who had embraced Nellie with great affection, received her -stepsons with kindness. And Mr. Helmstedt, who had welcomed the party -with much cordiality, now led the way up to the house. - -This was Mrs. Houston’s first visit to Mrs. De Lancie Helmstedt’s new -home, and she was full of curiosity and observation. - -“How rich the land is, Marguerite! I declare the isle is green down -to the very water’s edge in most places--and so well timbered. And -the house, too; how substantial and comfortable its strong, gray -walls look. I like that bay window with the round balcony over it, to -the right of the entrance; such an unusual thing in this part of the -country.” - -“Yes, my husband had it built just before he brought me home; the -bay window abuts from my own parlor, and is arranged in memory of -that ‘celebrated’ bay window of your father’s library and music-room. -The round balcony above it opens from my chamber, which is just over -the parlor; both the window below and the balcony above command a -magnificent western view of the bay and the opposite shore of Maryland -and Virginia, divided by the mouth of the Potomac; you shall see for -yourself to-day.” - -“And yet it must be lonesome here for you, Marguerite. I do not -understand how one like you, who have led so brilliant a life in the -midst of the world, can bear to live here. Why, I can scarcely endure -Buzzard’s Bluff, although it is a fine old place, on the mainland, with -neighbors all around.” - - “‘My mind to me a kingdom is: - Such perfect joy I find therein,’” - -murmured Marguerite, with an ambiguous smile. - -The day passed agreeably to all. Mrs. Houston had a budget of city news -and gossip to open and deliver; and, by the time this was done, dinner -was announced; and, when that meal was over, Mrs. Houston reminded her -hostess of her promise to show her through the house. - -Nellie was unhesitating in her commendations of Marguerite’s chamber. - -“Rose-colored window curtains and bed hangings and lounge covers, -by all that’s delightful. Why, Marguerite, you have everything in -civilized style in this savage part of the world!” Then they passed out -of the chamber upon the balcony, and stood admiring the wide expanse -of blue water, dotted here and there with islets, and the far distant -coast, split just opposite by the river, and varied up and down by -frequent headlands and inlets. Marguerite placed a spyglass in her -friend’s hand. - -“I declare, Marguerite, this island lies along due east of the mouth -of the Potomac. Why, I can see the pines on Point Lookout and Point -Rogers with the naked eye--and, with the aid of the glass, I do think I -can see so far up the river as your place, Plover’s Point.” - -“That is fancy, my dear; Plover’s Point is fifteen miles up the river.” - -As the air was calm and the water smooth, with the promise of -continuing so for the night at least, and as there was a full moon, -Mrs. Houston felt safe in remaining to tea. - -When she was ready to go home, and before she left the chamber, where -she had put on her outer garments, she tried to persuade Marguerite not -only to come very soon to Buzzard’s Bluff, but to fix the day when she -might expect her. - -“You will excuse me for some time yet, dearest Nellie. The truth is -that I arrived at home the day of the last storm; in crossing in a boat -from the schooner to the island, the wind was high and the water very -rough, and I received a terrible fright--was within an inch of being -lost, in fact; I have not entered a boat since--have not the least idea -that I shall be able to do so for a long time,” said Mrs. Helmstedt, -evasively. - -“Why, not even when the sea is as calm as it is this beautiful night?” - -“I fear not--the sea is proverbially treacherous.” - -“Why, you do not mean to say that, rather than venture on the water, -you will confine yourself to this island all your life?” - -“I know not, indeed; life is uncertain--mine may be very short.” - -“Why, Marguerite, how unlike yourself you are at this moment. What! -Marguerite--my heroic Marguerite--she who ‘held the blast in scorn,’ -growing nervous, fearing storms, doubting still water even, thinking -of death? Whew! there must be some noteworthy reason for this -metamorphosis! Say, is it so, my dearest Mrs. Helmstedt?” inquired -Nellie, with a smile, half archness, half love. - -For an answer Marguerite kissed her tenderly, when Nellie said: - -“Well, well! I shall visit you frequently, Marguerite, whether you -come to see me or not, for no change has come over your little Nellie, -whom you know you can treat as you please--slight her, flout her, -affront her, and she is still your little Nellie. Now, please to lend -me a shawl, for the air on the bay is too cool at night to make my -black silk scarf comfortable, and I’ll go.” - -Mr. and Mrs. Helmstedt walked down to the beach with Nellie and her -boys, saw them enter the boat, which quickly left the beach, and, -with the dipping oars raising sparkles of light in its course, glided -buoyantly over the moonlit water toward the distant point of Buzzard’s -Bluff. - -Philip Helmstedt and Marguerite were left alone on the beach. - -Philip stood with folded arms and moody brow, gloomily watching the -vanishing boat. - -But Marguerite was watching him. - -He turned and looked at her, saying, in a troubled voice: - -“Marguerite, you are the warden of your own liberty. You can speak, -if you choose, the words that will free you from restraint. Why will -you not do it? You punish me even more than yourself by the obstinate -silence that makes you a prisoner.” - -“Philip, it is not as you think. I cannot speak those words to which -you allude; but, Philip, beloved, I can and do accept your fiat. Let it -rest so, dearest, until, perhaps, a day may come when I may be clear -before you.” - -“The air is too chill for you; come to the house,” said Mr. Helmstedt, -and, without making any comment upon her words, he gave Marguerite his -arm and led her home. - -From that day forward, by tacit consent, they never alluded to the -subject that gave both so much uneasiness. And life passed calmly and -monotonously at the island. - -Mrs. Houston made herself merry in talking to her mother, who was on a -visit to Buzzard’s Bluff, of Marguerite’s nervousness and its probable -cause. And both mother and daughter waived ceremony and often visited -the island, where they were always received with warm welcome both -by Mr. and Mrs. Helmstedt. And not the faintest suspicion that there -was any cause of disagreement between their friends ever approached -the minds of either the Houstons or the Comptons. They saw the deep -attachment that existed between Philip and Marguerite, and believed -them to be very happy. It is true that Mrs. Helmstedt’s palpable -ill-health was a subject of frequent comment on the part of Mrs. -Houston, as well as of serious anxiety to Mrs. Compton. - -“I fear that Marguerite will not live; I fear that she will die as her -mother died,” said the elder lady. - -“I can scarcely believe that such a glorious creature should die; nor -do I believe it. But she does remind me of that rich, bright, tropical -flower that I bought at the conservatory in Richmond and brought down -to Buzzard’s Bluff. It did not fade or bleach in our bleak air but -dropped its head, wilted and died, as brilliant in death as in life. -Marguerite lived out her glorious life in Richmond among worshiping -friends--but now! And yet Philip Helmstedt loves her devotedly, loves -her almost to death, as my little stepson, Franky, vows he loves me,” -said Nellie. - -“‘To death!’ there is some love like the blessed vivifying sunshine, -such as the colonel’s affection for you, Nellie; and some love like the -destroying fire, such as Philip Helmstedt’s passion for Marguerite. -And I do not know that she is one whit behind him in the infatuation,” -replied her mother. - -One morning Mrs. Houston brought a new visitor to see the beautiful -recluse of Helmstedt’s Island, the Rev. Mr. Wellworth, the pastor -of Rockbridge parish, on the Northumberland shore, a gentleman who, -from his elevated moral and intellectual character, was an invaluable -acquisition to their limited circle. - -Mr. Wellworth expressed a hope that Mrs. Helmstedt would come to -church, and also that she would call on Mrs. Wellworth, who would be -very happy to see her. - -But Marguerite excused herself by saying that her health and spirits -were fluctuating and uncertain, and that she never left home, although -she would, at all times, be very much pleased to receive Mr. and -Mrs. Wellworth, who, she hoped, would do her the signal favor to -waive etiquette and come as often as they could make it convenient or -agreeable. - -Readily admitting the validity of these excuses, the pastor took the -lady at her word, and soon brought his wife to visit her. - -And, excepting the family at Buzzard’s Bluff, this amiable pair were -the only acquaintances Mrs. Helmstedt possessed in the neighborhood. - -Thus calmly and monotonously passed life on and around the island; its -passage marked that year by only two important events. - -The first was the retirement of Colonel Compton from political life -(dismissed the public service by the new President, Thomas Jefferson), -followed by the breaking up of his establishment at Richmond and the -removal to Northumberland County, where the colonel and his wife took -up their abode with their daughter and son-in-law at Buzzard’s Bluff. -This event broke off the intimate connection between them and the -bustling world they had left, though for a few weeks of every winter -Nellie went to visit her friends in the city, and for a month or two, -every summer, received and entertained them at Buzzard’s Bluff. Nellie -declared that without this variety she should go melancholy mad; and -at the same time wondered how Marguerite--the beautiful and brilliant -Marguerite--would endure the isolation and monotony of her life on the -island. - -The other important occurrence was the accouchement of Mrs. Helmstedt, -that took place early in October, when she became the mother of a -lovely little girl. The sex of this child was a serious disappointment -to Mr. Helmstedt, who had quite set his heart upon a son and heir, -and who could scarcely conceal his vexation from the penetrating, -beseeching eyes of his unhappy wife. - -Mrs. Compton came and passed six weeks with the invalid, nursing her -with the same maternal care that, in like circumstances, she would have -bestowed upon her own daughter Nellie, and often repeating, cheerfully: - -“When Marguerite gets well we shall have her out among us again,” or -other hopeful words to the same effect. - -But Marguerite was never again quite well. Brighter and brighter, month -after month, burned in her sunken cheeks and mournful eyes the secret -fire that was consuming her frame. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. THE VISITOR. - - - “Speak, speak, thou fearful guest!” - --LONGFELLOW. - - “I could a tale unfold whose lightest word - Would harrow up thy blood!” - --SHAKESPEARE. - -Spiritually speaking, there is no such thing as time or space, -as measured by numbers. For often moments in our experience drag -themselves painfully on into indefinitely protracted duration, and -sometimes years pass in a dream, “as a tale that is told.” - -Life passed monotonously to all on Helmstedt’s Island; but most -monotonously to her who might not leave its shores. Every one else -among its inhabitants often varied the scene by going upon the mainland -on either side of the bay. Mr. Helmstedt went off almost every morning, -not infrequently remaining out all day to dine at Colonel Houston’s, -Mr. Wellworth’s, or some other friend’s house. The domestic and -out-servants relieved each other in turn, that they might go to church -on Sundays or visit their friends on the shore. Only Marguerite never -upon any account left the island. The Houstons and the Comptons would -expostulate with her, and talk to Mr. Helmstedt, alike in vain. - -“Indeed I cannot leave the island, dear friends,” would Marguerite say, -without assigning any reason why she would not. - -“Mrs. Helmstedt does not choose to leave home; it is her will to -confine herself to the island, and her will is a very dominant one, as -you know,” would be Mr. Helmstedt’s explanation. - -“I declare it is a monomania! Marguerite is a riddle. Here some years -ago she used to run away from us all, and be absent six or seven -months, without deigning to inform us either where or why she went; -now she chooses to confine herself within the limits of her island -home, without giving us any reason for the eccentricity. But I suppose, -indeed, that it is all occasioned by the state of her nerves,” would be -Nellie’s comment upon all this. - -Meanwhile Mrs. Helmstedt passed her time in superintending her house -and servants, all of which was faultlessly managed; in rearing her -child; and in attending, as only a devoted wife can attend, to the -personal comforts of her husband during the day, and in entertaining -him and any chance visitor with her harp or voice or varied -conversation in the evening. Those days upon which Mr. Helmstedt was -absent were the longest and heaviest of all to the recluse--but her -greatest comforts were her child, her occupations and the contemplation -of the glorious scenery around her. - -She could never weary of the “infinite variety” of the sea. Some -days, in fine, weather, when the sky was clear, the air calm and the -water smooth, the bay spread out a vast level mirror, framed far -away by green shores and reflecting the firmament from a bosom pure -and peaceable as heaven. Other days, when the winds were rising and -the waves heaving, the whole sky lowered down upon the sea, the wild -waters leaped to meet it, and clouds and waves were mingled together -in dreadful chaos, like two opposing armies in mortal conflict. Some -nights the whole grand expanse of the bay was changed into an ocean of -fluid silver, with shores of diamond light, by the shining of the full -moon down upon the clear water and glittering, white sandy beach. Other -nights, when there was no moon, the dark, transparent waters reflected -clearly the deep blue firmament, brilliantly studded with stars. And -between these extreme phases, under foul or fair days, or dark or -bright nights, there was every variety and shade of change. - -When the weather and her engagements permitted, Mrs. Helmstedt, -attended only by her faithful Newfoundlander, Fidelle, passed much time -in walking up and down the sandy beach, looking far out upon the free -waters, or using her spyglass to observe some distant passing ship and -its crew. She made the most of the space allotted to her. The isle, a -mile long by a quarter broad, was about two miles and a half round. -Often, to afford herself the longest walk, she started from some given -spot, and, following the beach, made the circuit of the island--a -long and varied walk for a stranger, but monotonous to her who had no -other, and who from her earliest infancy had been a natural rambler. -She who through childhood and youth had delighted to wander out among -the wild scenes of nature, and lose herself amid the pathless woods, -or to spring upon her favorite steed and fly over hill and vale, miles -and miles away; or jump into a boat propelled by her own single hand, -and explore the coast, with its frequent points and headlands, creeks -and inlets, felt most severely and bitterly this constraint upon her -motions. She never complained, in word, or even in look; she accepted -the suffering and hid it deep in her heart with her secret sorrow. Both -preyed upon her health of mind and body. Daily her form grew thinner -and the fire in her cheeks and eye brighter and fiercer. - -Philip Helmstedt observed all this with pain and dread. Yet his pride -and firmness would not permit him to yield one tittle. - -“This is a conflict between our wills, Marguerite,” he said, “and one -in which you should at once, as you must sooner or later, yield.” - -“I will when I can, Philip.” - -“You must, for you are very weary of this island.” - -“I have not said so.” - -“You are very obstinate, Mrs. Helmstedt.” - -“I am very unhappy in offending you--that is a greater sorrow to me -than my restraint.” - -“They are the same in fact. Remember, Marguerite, that you are your own -custodian, and know how to get your liberty. Speak and you are free!” - -“Would, indeed, that I might utter the words you wish to hear, Philip -Helmstedt. Alas, I cannot!” - -“Will not, you mean. Very well, Marguerite, then remember that you -choose this confinement to the island.” - -She bowed her head in proud though sad acquiescence, saying: - -“Be it so! I accept your version of the affair, Philip. I choose this -confinement on the island.” - -Mrs. Helmstedt’s immense wealth was for the present not only of no use, -but of vexation to her; it was troublesome to manage, on account of her -various estates being in places distant, or of difficult access, and -some four or five times in the course of each year it became necessary -for Mr. Helmstedt to make a journey of three or four weeks for the -settlement of accounts. - -These absences were so trying to the secluded woman, who had no -companion but her husband, and could scarcely bear to lose him for -a day, that she suggested to Mr. Helmstedt that they should avail -themselves of the first favorable opportunity to dispose of Eagle -Flight, her mountain farm, and of her house on Loudoun street, in -Winchester. Whereupon Mr. Helmstedt, who desired nothing better, -immediately advertised the property for sale, and soon found -purchasers. When the transfer was made and price paid, Mr. Helmstedt -consulted his wife in regard to the disposition of the purchase money. - -“Invest it in your own name, and in any way you see fit, dear Philip,” -she said. - -And he probably took her at her word, for the subject was never renewed -between them. - -Plover’s Point, her most valuable estate, being but fifteen miles up -the river, on the Virginia side, was so readily accessible that it -had been permitted to remain under cultivation, in the hands of an -overseer, subject to the occasional supervision of the master. But -at last an opportunity was presented of selling the place for a very -liberal price, and Mr. Helmstedt made known the fact to his wife. -But Marguerite declined to dispose of Plover’s Point upon any terms -whatever. - -“It was my mother’s ancestral home, and my own birthplace, dearest -Philip. As my mother left it to me, I wish to leave it to my daughter.” - -“As you please,” said her husband, and dropped the subject. - -A few days after that he came to her with an inquiry whether she would -be willing to give a lease of the property for a term of years, and, -glad to be able to meet his wishes at any point, Mrs. Helmstedt at once -agreed to the proposition. - -The new tenant of Plover’s Point was Dr. Hartley, with his wife, -son and daughter. They were a great accession to the neighborhood, -for, though fifteen miles up the river, they were, in that spacious -district, considered neighbors. The Houstons, Comptons and Wellworths -called upon them, as also did Mr. Helmstedt, who apologized for the -non-appearance of his wife, saying that Mrs. Helmstedt suffered in -health and spirits and never left her home, and expressed a hope that -they would dispense with form and visit her there. And this, at last, -Dr. and Mrs. Hartley decided to do, and, after having once made the -acquaintance of Marguerite, they felt powerfully attracted to pursue it. - -About this time, five years from the birth of her daughter, Marguerite -became the mother of an infant son, who merely opened his eyes upon -this world to close them immediately in death. - -The loss of the babe was a severe disappointment to Mr. Helmstedt, and, -for that reason, a heavier sorrow to Marguerite. Her health was now so -enfeebled that her physician, Dr. Hartley, earnestly advised a change -of air and scene, and his advice was warmly seconded by her friends at -Buzzard’s Bluff. - -This consultation took place in the presence of Marguerite, who smiled -proudly and mournfully. - -Her husband answered: - -“It shall be just as Mrs. Helmstedt decides; but as she has confined -herself exclusively to her home, against the wishes and advice of all -her friends, for more than five years, I greatly fear that she will not -be induced, by anybody, to leave it.” - -Mrs. Houston replied: - -“Think of it, Dr. Hartley. Mrs. Helmstedt has not set foot off this -island for nearly six years! Enough in itself to ruin her health and -spirits.” - -“Quite enough, indeed,” said the kind-hearted physician, adding, “I -hope, Mr. Helmstedt, that you will be able to persuade your wife to -leave here for a time.” - -“I shall endeavor to do so,” gravely answered that gentleman. - -And when the visitors had all departed, and Mr. Helmstedt was alone -with his wife, he took her white, transparent hand, and gazing -mournfully into her emaciated, but still brilliantly beautiful face, -said: - -“Marguerite, will you have mercy on yourself? Will you save your -life? Will you, in a word, make the revelation I require as your only -possible ransom, so that I may take you where you may recover your -health? Will you, Marguerite?” - -She shook her head in sorrowful pride. - -“Have you so mistaken me after all these years, Philip? And do you -think that the revelation I could not make for your dear sake six years -ago I can make now for my own? No, Philip, no.” - -And again, for a time, the harassing subject was dropped. - -Mrs. Helmstedt had one dear consolation; a lone angel was ever at -her side, her little daughter “Margaret,” as her Anglo-Saxon father -preferred to write the name. As the lady’s health temporarily rallied, -her sweetest employment was that of educating this child. - -Margaret had inherited little of her mother’s transcendent beauty -and genius; but the shadow of that mother’s woe lay lingering in her -eyes--those large, soft, dark eyes, so full of earnest tenderness. -Through the dreariest seasons in all the long and dreary years of her -confinement--those desolate seasons when Mr. Helmstedt was varying the -scene of his life at Baltimore, Annapolis, or some other point to which -business or inclination called him; and Nellie was enjoying the society -of her friends in Richmond, and Marguerite was left for weary weeks and -months, companionless on the island, this loving child was her sweetest -comforter. And little Margaret, with her premature and thoughtful -sympathy, better liked to linger near her sad-browed mother, than even -to leave the isle; but sweet as was this companionship, Mrs. Helmstedt, -with a mother’s unselfish affection, was solicitous that Margaret -should enjoy the company of friends of her own age, and frequently sent -her, under the charge of Ralph or Franky Houston, to pass a day at -Rockbridge parsonage with Grace Wellworth, the clergyman’s child, or a -week at Plover’s Point with Clare Hartley, the doctor’s daughter; and -still more frequently she invited one or both of those little girls to -spend a few days on the island. - -But at length there came a time, when Margaret was about twelve years -of age, that she lost the society of her young friends. Grace Wellworth -and Clare Hartley were sent up together to Richmond, under the charge -of Colonel and Mrs. Houston, who were going thither on a visit, -to enter a first-class boarding school, and thus Margaret was left -companionless; and for a little while suffered a depression of spirits, -strange and sad in one so young. - -Mrs. Helmstedt saw this with alarm, and dreaded the farther effect of -isolation and solitude upon her loving and sensitive child. - -“She must not suffer through my fate. Dear as she is, she must leave -me. The sins of her parents shall not be visited upon her innocent -head,” said Marguerite to herself. (Alas! Mrs. Helmstedt, how could you -prevent the action of that natural and certain consequence?) And that -same day, being in her own special parlor, of the bay window, with Mr. -Helmstedt, she said: - -“Do you not think, Philip, that it would be best to send our daughter -to Richmond, to be educated with her friends, Grace and Clare?” - -“By no means, Marguerite; the plan is not to be thought of for a -moment,” answered Mr. Helmstedt, who did not love his child with one -tithe of the affection he bestowed upon his wife--notwithstanding that -through pride and obstinacy he still kept the latter a sort of prisoner -of honor--and who, knowing how dear to her was the society of her -little girl, would not let the interest of Margaret conflict for an -instant with the happiness of her mother. - -“But our child has attained an age now when she needs the companionship -of her equals, as much as she wants teachers.” - -“Marguerite! there is not in this wide world a teacher, man or woman, -so, in all respects, and for all reasons, competent to educate -your daughter as yourself. You delight, also, in the occupation of -instructing her; therefore, she shall not leave you.” - -“But her isolation--her loneliness? Her evident depression of spirits?” - -“She feels the loss of her companions, as she must feel it for some -days, after which she will get over it. For the rest, a child abroad -with nature as she is, cannot suffer from loneliness; and even if she -did, her sufferings would be less than nothing compared with what you -would feel in losing her for years.” - -“I pray you do not consider me in this affair.” - -“Cease, dear Marguerite; the child is better with you, and shall not -leave you,” said Mr. Helmstedt. - -And as little Margaret entered at the same moment to take her music -lesson, the subject was dropped, and Mr. Helmstedt left the room. - -But Marguerite did not yield the point. After giving her young daughter -her lesson on the harp, and while sitting exhausted on her sofa, she -suddenly said: - -“My dear, you miss Grace and Clare very much, don’t you?” - -“Yes, dear mother.” - -“Wouldn’t you like to go to Richmond and enter the same school they are -in?” she inquired, pushing aside the dark clustering curls from the -child’s fair forehead, and looking wistfully into her face, which was -suddenly shadowed by a cloud of grief or fear. “Say, would you not, my -Margaret?” - -The little red lip quivered, and the dark eyes melted into tears; but -she answered by asking, softly: - -“Do you want me to go, mamma?” - -“I think, perhaps, it might be best that you should do so, my love.” - -“Well, then, I will go,” she said, meekly, struggling to govern her -feelings, and then, losing all self-control, she burst into a fit of -irrepressible weeping; in the midst of which her father re-entered the -room, and learning the cause of her emotion, said: - -“Cease crying this moment, Madge. You shall not leave your mother.” - -“But--sir, mamma prefers that I should go,” said the little girl, -quickly swallowing her sobs and wiping her eyes, for she feared even -more than she loved her father, though she loved him very much. - -“Your mother prefers that you should go, only because she sees you look -sad, and fears that you feel lonesome here without companions of your -own age.” - -“Oh, but--I should be more lonesome at Richmond, away from my dear -mamma,” said the little maiden, with a look of amazement, that her -mother should, for a moment, think otherwise. - -“Of course you would; so then let the matter rest. Mrs. Helmstedt, are -you at length satisfied?” - -Marguerite bowed and smiled to her husband, and then turned upon her -daughter a look of ineffable tenderness, while forming the secret -resolution that her own devoted love and care should compensate to the -maiden for the absence alike of teachers and companions. - -And well she kept her silent promise. No princess ever had an -instructress at once so accomplished, so competent and zealous as this -little island rustic possessed in her gifted and devoted mother. And -from this day also, whether for her beloved mother’s sake, she shook -off her sadness, or whether a happy reaction had taken place, Margaret -did not appear to suffer in the least degree from the loneliness so -dreaded for her. As other more favored children learn to walk by -nature, so this lonely island maiden learned to ride on horseback, -to row a skiff, and to work a little sailboat. And daily, after her -lessons were over, she would, in her free, unquestioned way, run down -to the beach, get into her little boat and row around the isle, or if -the wind was fresh and not too high plant her slender mast and hoist -her sail. - -Ralph Houston was at this time at Harvard University, but Franky was -at home, preparing for college, under the direction of the Rev. Mr. -Wellworth, whom he attended in his library three times a week. And -Franky came often to the island to see his young neighbor, Margaret, -and in his affectionate zeal would have been Grace, Clare, the city of -Richmond and himself, all in one, for her sweet sake. While at home in -the evenings, he carved “cornelian” rings and bodkins out of broken -tortoiseshell combs, and “ivory” needle-cases and paper-folders out -of boiled mutton bones for her; and she wore and used them because -they were Franky’s work. And if he had pocket money, as he generally -had, for he was a great favorite with his stepmother, who liberally -supplied him, he was sure to send it by the first opportunity to the -city to buy the newest book, picture or music for Margaret, who, -whether the present were good, bad or indifferent of its kind, read -the book, framed the picture or learned the music, because it was the -gift of Franky. As time passed Mr. Houston observed this growing -friendship with delight, and prophesied the future union of the youth -and maiden--a provision at which Franky would blush scarlet between -boyish shame and joy. Other interested parties took cognizance of -this state of affairs. Mr. Helmstedt, whenever he gave himself the -trouble to think of his daughter’s future, viewed this prospect without -dissatisfaction, which was, perhaps, the highest degree of approbation -of which his sombre nature was now capable. And Mrs. Helmstedt also, -conscious of the precarious hold of her feverish spirit upon her frail -body, found great comfort in the contemplation of Franky’s clear -mind and affectionate heart, cheerful temper and strong attachment -to her child. But if Margaret loved Franky it was “at second best,” -and as much for the sake of one far away as for his own. There is no -accounting for the waywardness of the passions and affections, and -if the truth must here be told, Margaret in her secret heart better -liked the dark, earnest, thoughtful man, Ralph, who was twelve years -her senior, and whom she never saw more than twice a year, than this -fair, gay, gentle youth who was her almost daily companion. And no -one suspected this secret, which was but dimly revealed to the young -maiden’s self. - -But at length the passage of time brought the day when Margaret was -to lose Franky also. Ralph Houston had graduated at Harvard, and -was coming home for a visit previous to going out to make the grand -tour. And Franky, now fully prepared to enter college, was to take -his brother’s vacated rooms at the university. Nellie Houston had -appropriated all her available funds in fitting out Franky for his new -life, purchasing delicacies and luxuries in the way of fine and costly -wearing apparel and elegant toilet apparatus, such as his father’s -prudence or economy would have denied him; for never did a mother -dote upon an only son with a fonder affection than did Nellie on her -fair stepson, her “pretty boy,” as she called him, even after he was -twenty years of age. Many of the presents she had purchased for her -“boy,” such as a rich watch and chain, a costly seal ring, a heavily -chased gold pencil case with a ruby setting, richly embroidered velvet -fatigue cap and slippers, a handsome dressing gown, Paris kid gloves, -linen cambric handkerchiefs, perfumery, scented soaps, etc.--articles, -some of them, only fit for a lady’s toilet, she had smuggled into his -trunks, unknown to his father; but some things accidentally fell under -the observation of the colonel, who stared in astonishment. - -“Why, what upon the face of the earth, Nellie, do you think Frank wants -with this gimcrack?” he said, raising the lid of an elegant inlaid -dressing case. - -“He will want it at his morning exercises,” said Nellie. - -“Ah, it is you who are making a dandy of that boy! I shall, by and by, -expect to hear, as the highest praise that can be bestowed upon him, -that he is ‘ladylike.’” - -“Well, sir, your gallantry will not deny that is very high praise.” - -“Humph! yes! about as high as it would be to call a lady ‘manly.’” - -“Well, why shouldn’t that be high praise also? Why should not a man, -with all his manliness, possess the delicate tastes of a woman? And why -should not a woman, with all her womanliness, possess the courage and -fortitude of a man? My Franky shall have lace shirt frills and collars -and cuffs, if he likes; and I, if there’s to be a war with England, as -they say, will go and ‘’list for a sojer,’ if I like,” said Nellie, -petulantly. - -“Ha, ha, ha! You will certainly have an opportunity, my dear,” said the -colonel; then, growing serious, “for a war can no longer be staved off.” - -In addition to her other efforts to please her “boy,” Nellie determined -upon giving him a farewell party, the first party ever given in the -neighborhood. It was difficult in that sparse district to “drum up” -enough young people to form a single quadrille. Grace Wellworth and -Clare Hartley were at home for the Easter holidays. Grace had brought -a schoolmate with her, and Clare had an elder brother, John; and these -four were invited. Mr. and Mrs. Helmstedt and their daughter were, of -course, bidden; Nellie herself carried the invitation, with the view of -teazing Marguerite into accepting it. - -“Now, Marguerite, you must be sure to come, it will do you good. You -can come over early in the afternoon, so as to get a good rest before -it is time to dress, and when all is over you can stay all night, you -know. Marguerite, do come. Mr. Helmstedt, lay your commands on her, -make her come, bring her,” said Nellie, playfully appealing to the -master of the house. - -“If Mrs. Helmstedt had placed the slightest value upon her husband’s -wishes, not to use so obnoxious a word as commands, madam, she would -not have confined herself to the island thus long,” said that gentleman. - -“You will please to excuse me, dear Nellie. Mr. Helmstedt and Margaret -will go with pleasure, but for myself, I cannot leave home.” - -“You only think so, Marguerite. I declare it is a monomania that your -friends ought not to put up with,” said Nellie, impatiently. But her -words were as vain then as they had been for many years past. - -She went home to make arrangements for her _fête_, and Marguerite -busied herself in preparing her daughter’s costume for the occasion. -Margaret was delighted at the prospect of going to a party, a thing -that she had heard of and read of, but never witnessed. At length the -all-important day arrived. Mr. Helmstedt said that he should attend his -daughter to Buzzard’s Bluff, but that afterward he should have to leave -her there and go to a political meeting at Heathville, so that she must -prepare herself to stay all night with her friends, as he should not be -able to return for her until morning. - -“But then mamma will be alone all night,” said Margaret, uneasily. - -“Never think of me, sweet girl; I shall sleep,” replied her mother. - -Early in the afternoon Forrest received orders to get the _Nereide_ -ready to take his master and young mistress across to the Bluff. And -Mrs. Helmstedt, with affectionate care, dressed her daughter. Never had -Margaret been in full dress before. Her attire was rather delicate than -rich, and consisted of a lace robe over a rose-colored silk skirt, and -a wreath of white and red rosebuds in her hair. Her white kid gloves -and white satin shoes were wrapped up to be put on when she should -reach the Bluff. - -When all was ready Marguerite walked down with her husband and daughter -to the beach to see them off. As they reached the sands a pleasant -object met their view. It was a fairylike boat, of elegant form, -artistically painted, of a shaded gray on the outside and white, -flushed with rose-color, on the inside; and bore upon its prow, in -silver characters, _The Pearl Shell_. - -“And here is the pearl,” said Franky Houston, who had just leaped on -shore, going to Margaret and taking her hand, “will you allow me to put -her in it, Mr. Helmstedt?” - -“Certainly, Franky, since you were so kind as to come. Your dainty -‘shell’ is also somewhat cleaner and more suitable to her dress than -our working-day boat.” - -“How do you do, Mrs. Helmstedt? Come, Margaret,” said the youth. - -“Stop, Franky, I must bid mamma good-by first,” replied the maiden, -going up to her mother. “Sweet mamma! you will not be lonesome?” - -“No--no, my love, I shall go to sleep--good-evening,” said Mrs. -Helmstedt, throwing over her daughter’s head and shoulders a fleecy -white shawl, to protect her from the sea breeze. - -“Come, Margaret,” pleaded her companion. - -“Yes, yes, I am coming, Franky. Mamma, dearest mamma! I do so dislike -to leave you alone to-night--it seems so cruel. We are all going but -you. Everybody on the island, black and white, can go abroad but you. -Mamma, why is it? Why do you never leave the island, dearest mamma?” -inquired Margaret, fixing her earnest, tender eyes wistfully upon her -mother’s face. - -“Because I do not will to do so, my dear; there, go and enjoy yourself, -love. See, your father and Forrest are already in the other boat, and -Franky is waiting to put my pearl in his shell. Good-night, sweet!” -said Mrs. Helmstedt, kissing her daughter, with a smile so bright that -it cheered the maiden, and sent her tripping to join her companion. - -The _Nereide_, containing Mr. Helmstedt and his man, had already left -the shore. Franky handed Margaret into the dainty boat, that was so -perfectly clean as not to endanger the spotless purity of her gala -dress. When she was seated, and Franky had taken his place at the oars -and pushed a little way from the shore, he said: - -“This boat is yours, you know, dear Margaret; my parting gift; I had -it built on purpose, and painted it myself, and named it for you. -‘Margaret,’ you know, means ‘pearl,’ and this boat that carries you -is a pearl shell; I colored it as near like one as I could. I should -like to have the pleasure of rowing you about in it, but”--with a deep -sigh--“I can’t! However, you will not want attention, Margaret, for my -brother Ralph will be home, where I am sure he will stay; for they say -that we are on the eve of war with England, in which case it will not -be expedient for him to go to Europe--so, of course, he will stay home, -and equally, of course, if he is a great Don, he will supply my place -to you, Margaret! You have not answered one word that I have said to -you--why, what is the matter?” - -Margaret, with her thoughts and affections still lingering with her -mother left behind, had turned to give her a last look, and in doing so -had started and grown pale to see her still standing there, her black -dress strongly marked against the drear, white beach, alone, desolate, -in an attitude and with an expression of utter despair. Margaret had -never before surprised that look of heartbroken hopelessness upon her -mother’s well-guarded countenance, and now having seen it, she never -afterward in life forgot it. - -“You do not speak, Margaret; you do not like my boat?” - -“Oh, indeed I do, Franky! And you are very kind; but I am thinking of -mamma; I am afraid she will be lonesome to-night, and, indeed, I wish -to return to her.” - -“Nonsense, my dear Margaret. She would send you off again; besides, -what would your father say?” - -“But do, then, look at her, Franky, where she stands alone.” - -The youth turned around; but Mrs. Helmstedt saw them watching her, -smiled her bright, delusive smile, waved them adieu, and turned away. - -Margaret sighed. - -And Franky pulled rapidly for the Bluff, which they reached just after -sunset. - -“Is not that a fine sight, Margaret?” asked her companion, as they left -the boat and climbed the bluff, pointing to the illuminated front of -the mansion that cast a long stream of red light across the darkening -water. - -“Yes,” said Margaret, absently; for she saw in her “mind’s eye,” not -the twenty festive lights before her, but her mother’s solitary figure -left behind on the beach. - -They soon arrived at the house, where the young girl was met by Mrs. -Houston, who conducted her to the dressing-room, where Grace Wellworth, -Clare Hartley, and half a dozen other young ladies were arranging their -toilets. Very enthusiastic was the greeting between Margaret and her -young friends, whom she had not met since their return. - -“Why, what exquisite taste is displayed in your toilet, Madge, you -little rustic; one would think a city milliner had arranged it--who -dressed you?” inquired Clare Hartley. - -“A more delicate hand--my dearest mamma,” said Margaret, her thoughts -again reverting to the mournful figure left standing alone on the beach. - -When they were all ready, they descended to the dancing-room--two large -parlors thrown into one, brilliantly lighted, and half filled with a -company of young, middle-aged and elderly persons, for there was not -youth enough in that neighborhood to make a considerable assembly of -themselves. A temporary platform at one end of the room accommodated -four sable musicians, with a large and small violin, a tambourine and -banjo, which they were tuning up with great zeal. - -Franky “opened the ball” by leading Margaret out; other couples -instantly followed, and the dancing commenced, but through the -liveliest strains of the music Margaret heard only her lonely mother’s -fond “good-night,” and with flying feet and beaming smiles around her, -saw only her mother’s solitary figure and mournful brow. - -Ah! Marguerite Helmstedt! How could you presume to say: “The sins of -her parents shall not be visited upon this child.” - -About nine o’clock the supper was served, and, while the company were -crowding in to the supper table, Margaret called Franky aside and said: - -“Franky, the moonlight is bright upon the water; if you love me, dear -Franky, take me home to mamma.” - -“Why, you do astound me, dear Margaret! What would the company say? -Mother would never let you go.” - -“I must steal away unobserved, for, Franky, I am sick to return to -mamma. Something draws me so strongly that I must and will go, even, if -need be, alone--do you understand?” - -“I understand, dear Madge, that you inherit firmness from both sides -of your house, and that it is of very little use to oppose your will; -therefore, Margaret, I am at your orders.” - -“Thank you, dear Franky--now go and see that the boat is ready, while -I run and put on my other shoes and shawl. We can go away quite -unobserved, and when you return you can make my apologies and adieus to -Mrs. Houston.” - -Franky obeyed her. - -And ten minutes after the youth and maiden were in _The Pearl Shell_, -skimming over the moonlit waters toward the isle. - -Meanwhile Mrs. Helmstedt, when she had waved adieu to the young people -on their way to the party and turned from them, did not go immediately -home, but rambled up toward the north end of the island, and here -she walked up and down the sands, watching absently the monotonous -in-coming of the tide, or the leap and dip of the fish, or the slow -sailing of some laggard water fowl through the evening air. As far -as her eye could reach not a sail was visible in any direction; land -and water was a scene of unbroken solitude for hours while she walked -there. The sunset threw into deep shadow the long line of the opposite -western shore, the sky grew dark, and still the sad recluse pursued her -lonely monotonous walk. After awhile the full moon rose and changed the -darkened bay into a sea of fluid silver, and shining full against the -blackened western shore, changed it into a line of diamond light. Then -Marguerite was aware of a sail making down the bay and bearing full -upon the island. There was no reason for the feeling, but the approach -of this packet filled the lady’s mind with a strange anxiety, alike -impossible to explain or expel. The vessel anchored near the isle and -sent out a boat, manned by two sailors, and containing a third person, -apparently a passenger. - -The boat rowed rapidly toward the very spot upon which the lady stood -watching. In five minutes it touched the sands, and the passenger, a -gentleman of about fifty years of age, stepped ashore, and, walking up -to Marguerite, bowed respectfully and inquired: - -“Will you be so good as to inform me, madam, whether Mrs. Helmstedt is -at present at home.” - -But as the stranger approached, Marguerite had grown pale, and now, -leaning against a pine tree for support, exclaimed in a faint tone: - -“My God, has it come at last?” - -“I fear, madam, that I have alarmed you by my sudden approach; reassure -yourself, dear lady!” said the visitor, politely. - -But Marguerite, dropping her hands from before her agonized -countenance, exclaimed: - -“Braunton! am I so changed, then, that you do not know me? I am -Marguerite Helmstedt, whom you seek. But in the name of Heaven, then, -what fatality has brought you here?” - -“A fatality indeed, madam,” answered the stranger, in a sad tone. - -“Come up to the house! by a merciful chance I am alone this evening,” -said the lady, struggling to sustain herself against the agony of mind -that was written in characters of iron on her corrugated brow. The -stranger gave her his arm as an indispensable support, and the two -proceeded toward the mansion. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. LOVE, WAR AND BETROTHAL. - - - “Her mother smiled upon her bed, - As at its side we knelt to wed, - And the bride rose from her knee; - And she kissed the lips of her mother dead - Or ever she kissed me.” - --E. B. BROWNING. - -None ever knew what passed between Mrs. Helmstedt and the gray-haired -stranger who was closeted with her, in her favorite parlor, for -several hours, that evening. No one was in the house, in fact, at the -time, except the lady, her venerable guest, and her two confidential -servants, Hildreth and Forrest, who had, of late years, grown into -the habit of silence in regard to everything concerning their unhappy -mistress. Once in the wane of that evening, Forrest rapped at the door -for orders, and had caught a glimpse of his mistress’s blanched and -haggard face, as she directed him to retire and wait until he should -hear her bell. And after waiting in the dining-room opposite, for some -hours, Forrest heard the departure of the visitor, but listened in vain -for Mrs. Helmstedt’s bell. - -Meanwhile, _The Pearl Shell_, containing Margaret and Franky, glided -swiftly over the moonlit waters. As they neared the island, they saw -another boat, containing a pair of oarsmen and a single passenger, -push off from the beach and row rapidly toward a schooner, anchored -some quarter of a mile off. But as it was not an unusual occurrence -for passing vessels to send out boats to the isle for water, wood or -provisions, purchased from the negroes, the sight of this one leaving -its shores occasioned no remark. - -“Now row swiftly home, dear Franky, or they will wonder what has become -of us,” said Margaret, as soon as she had sprung upon the shore. But -Franky refused to leave her until at least he had seen her safely -housed. So he took her hand, and they ran on up the sandy barren, -through the long timothy field, through the orchard, and through the -garden, until they reached the front piazza, where Margaret insisted -upon dismissing her boy lover, who reluctantly left her. - -And Margaret ran into the hall door, and thence into her mother’s -favorite parlor, on the threshold of which she stood appalled! - -The two wax candles upon the mantelpiece were burning dimly, and their -pale light fell ominously upon the figure of Mrs. Helmstedt, sitting on -the short sofa, with her hands clasped rigidly together on her lap, her -eyes fixed and strained outward, and her face blanched and frozen as if -the hand of death had just passed over it. - -One instant Margaret stood panic-stricken, and the next she was at her -mother’s side, speaking to her, kissing her, stroking her forehead, and -trying to unclasp and rub her rigidly-locked hands. For some minutes -these efforts were all in vain; and then a deep shuddering sigh, that -shook her whole form like the passage of an inward storm, dissolved the -spell that had bound her, and she grew conscious of the presence of her -child. - -“Mamma, what shall I bring you? I had better call Hildreth,” said -Margaret, softly stealing away. But the hand that she had been rubbing -now closed on hers with a tight, restraining clasp, and a deep, hollow, -cavernous voice, that she scarcely recognized as her mother’s answered: - -“No--no--call no one, my child--stay with me.” - -Margaret dropped upon the sofa, beside her mother, with a look of mute -wonder and devoted love, and seemed to await her further commands. - -“My child,” spoke the same hollow, cavernous, awful voice, “speak to no -living soul of what you have seen to-night.” - -“I will not, dear mamma; but tell me what I can do for you.” - -“Nothing, nothing, Margaret.” - -“Can I not help you somehow?” - -“I am beyond help, Margaret.” - -“Mother, mother, trust in your loving child, the child of your heart, -who would give you back her life if she could give you happiness -with it, mother,” murmured Margaret, most tenderly, as she caressed -and fondled the rigid form of that dark, sorrowful woman--“trust in -your loving child, mother, your child that heard your heart calling -her to-night over the moonlit waters, and through all the music and -laughter came hurrying to your side.” - -“Ah! so you did, my love, so you did; and I, so absorbed in my own -thoughts, did not even ask you whence you came, or how, or why.” - -“Franky brought me at my earnest request. Now trust in me, dear mother, -trust in your faithful child.” - -“If ever I be driven to lay the burden of my grief upon any human -heart, Margaret, it must be on yours--only on yours! for little -Margaret, in my life, I have loved many and worshiped one, but I fully -trust only you.” - -“Trust me ever, mother! trust me fully, trust me even unto death; for I -would be faithful unto death,” said the maiden, earnestly, fervently, -solemnly. - -“I know it, and I do trust you perfectly. Yet not now, not just now, -need I shift this weight from my heart to yours--’tis enough that one -living heart should bear that burthen at a time. I may leave it to you -as a legacy, my Margaret.” - -“A legacy--a legacy--oh! mother, what mean you?” inquired the maiden, -as the sudden paleness of a deadly terror overspread her sweet face. - -“Nothing, nothing, my dove, that should alarm you. It is the order of -nature, is it not, that parents should die before their children? But -who talks of dying now? Your soft touches, my child, have given me new -life and strength. Lend me your arm; I will retire.” - -“Let me sleep with you to-night, dear mother,” pleaded the maiden, from -whose earnest face the paleness of fear had not yet vanished. - -An affectionate pressure of the hand was her only answer. And Margaret -assisted Mrs. Helmstedt to gain her chamber. That night, in her -prayers, Margaret earnestly thanked God that she had been led to come -home so opportunely to her lonely mother’s help. - -And from that night the close union between the mother and daughter -seemed even more firmly cemented. - -The next day Mr. Helmstedt returned. He had spent the night at -Heathville, and called in the morning at Buzzard’s Bluff for Margaret, -and hearing that she had grown anxious upon account of her mother left -alone on the island, and had returned, he simply approved the step and -dropped the subject. - -Later in the same week, Franky Houston, boy as he was, took a tearful -leave of Margaret, turning back many times to assure her that Ralph, -when he came, would not leave her to mope in loneliness, but would -certainly, to the best of his ability, supply his (Franky’s) place. And -so the candid, open-hearted boy left. - -And Margaret, who had grown to understand how dear she was to Franky, -felt her heart stricken with compunction to know how glad she was that -his place would soon be supplied by Ralph. - -Grace Wellworth and Clare Hartley had also returned to their city -school. And “Island Mag” was left again companionless. - -Not for a long time. - -With the warm days of early summer came Ralph Houston, as he said, for -a short visit home, before he should sail for Europe to make the grand -tour. - -But this month of June, 1812, was a month big with the fate of nations -as well as of individuals. The bitter disputes between the young -Republic and the “Mother Country,” like all family quarrels, did not -tend toward reconciliation, but on the contrary, month by month, and -year by year, had grown more acrid and exasperating, until at length -a war could no longer be warded off, and thus, without the least -preparation, either military or naval, Congress on the eighteenth -of June, 1812, declared war against Great Britain. Never had Young -America before, and never since, taken so rash and impetuous a step. -Never had an unfortunate country plunged headlong into an unequal and -perilous war under more forbidding circumstances; with two formidable -antagonists, and without either army or navy in readiness to meet -them. Yet no sooner had the tocsin sounded through the land, than “the -spirit of ’76” was aroused, and an army arose. Simultaneously, all over -the country, volunteer companies were formed and marched toward the -principal points of gathering. - -Among the first who started into action at the country’s call, was -Philip Helmstedt, who set about raising a company of volunteers in his -own neighborhood, and at his own expense. This enterprise took him -frequently from home, and kept him absent for many days at a time. At -last, about the middle of July, he had formed and equipped his troop -of one hundred men, and was prepared to march them to obtain his -commission from Mr. Madison. - -Mrs. Helmstedt had watched his preparations for departure with the -mournful resignation of one whom sorrow had accustomed to submission. -He was to join his men at Belleview, and take one of the larger -packets bound up the Potomac River to the capital. - -On the morning of his departure, Mrs. Helmstedt had risen early -to superintend the final arrangements for his comfort. And they -breakfasted alone at an early hour. Their child had not left her -chamber, her father having taken leave of her on the evening previous. -When breakfast was over, and the servants had withdrawn from the room -by their master’s order, Mr. Helmstedt approached his wife, and seating -himself beside her on the sofa, said: - -“Marguerite! we are about to part. God knows for how long. It may be -years before we meet, if, indeed, we ever meet again, Marguerite!” - -“I know how long it will be--until we meet in the spirit world!” -thought Mrs. Helmstedt; but she spoke not, only looked lovingly, -mournfully in the face of her departing husband. - -“Marguerite, shall not this painful feud of years come to an end -between us?” - -“There is not, there never has been, there never can be a feud between -us, dearest Philip. It was my bitter misfortune not to be able to -comply with your just requirements. In view of that, you fixed my fate -and I accepted it. There is no feud, dearest husband.” - -“Marguerite, I cannot endure the thought of leaving you for so long -a time, restricted to the narrow confines of this island, and yet I -cannot do otherwise unless----” - -“Dearest Philip, I have grown accustomed to confinement on this island, -and do not----” She paused abruptly. - -“Marguerite, you were about to say that you do not care about it; but -you never uttered an untruth in your life, and could not be betrayed -into doing so now. Marguerite, you do care; you care bitterly about the -restraint that is placed upon your motions. Dear Marguerite, you know -the conditions of peace and freedom. Will you not, even at this late -day, accept them?” - -“Oh, Mr. Helmstedt, had it been possible for me to have accepted these -conditions, I should have done so, not for my own advantage, but for -your satisfaction, thirteen years ago! Since that time nothing has -happened to render the impossible possible.” - -“Then I am to understand, Marguerite, that you still hold out in your -resistance?” said Mr. Helmstedt, more gloomily than angrily. - -She did not reply at first, except by a steady, mute, appealing look -from her dark, mournful eyes. But as Mr. Helmstedt still looked for a -reply, she said: - -“Dear Philip, as you remarked, we are just about to part, and Heaven -only knows if ever we shall meet again on earth. Let us not have hard -feelings toward each other.” - -“Good-by Marguerite,” he said, suddenly rising and taking his hat and -gloves. - -“Good-by--not yet. Philip turn: let me look at you!” She clung tightly -to the hand he had given her, and held him fast while she fixed a -long, deep gaze upon his face--a gaze so strange, so wistful, so -embarrassing, that Mr. Helmstedt cut it short by saying, gently: - -“Farewell, dearest! let me be gone.” - -“Not yet! oh, not yet! a moment more!” her bosom swelled and heaved, -her lips quivered, but no tear dimmed her brilliant, feverish eyes, -that were still fixed in a riveting gaze upon his face. - -Mr. Helmstedt felt himself strongly moved. - -“Marguerite, why Marguerite, dearest, this is not like you! You are in -soul a Spartan woman! You will receive my parting kiss now and bid me -go,” he said, and opened his arms and pressed her to his heart a moment -and then with another whispered, “Farewell,” released her. - -“God bless you, Philip Helmstedt,” she said. - -The next instant he was gone. She watched him from the door, where -he was joined by his groom and valet, down to the beach and into the -boat; and then she went upstairs to the balcony over the bay window and -watched the boat out of sight. - -“There! That is the last! I shall never see his face again,” she -murmured, in heartbroken tones, and might have cast herself upon the -ground in her desolation, but that two gentle arms were wound about -her, and a loving voice said, - -“Dearest mother.” - -No more than just that--so little, yet so much. - -“He is gone, Margaret, your father is gone,” said Mrs. Helmstedt, -passing her arm over the head of the maiden and drawing it down to her -bosom--“he is gone--gone!” - -“I know it, dear mother, I know it; but so also is every good and true -American gone, on the same path.” - -“True, my dove, true,” said Mrs. Helmstedt; but she did not say, what -farther she felt to be true, namely, that from her he had gone forever. - -That afternoon following the departure, Ralph Houston, with -affectionate thoughtfulness, came over to cheer the lonely ladies. - -He had accompanied Mr. Helmstedt from the Bluff to Belleview, and -witnessed the embarkation of himself and his company, on board the -schooner _Kingfisher_, bound for Alexandria and Washington, and after -thus seeing them off, he had ridden back as fast as possible, and -crossed to the isle. Mr. Houston spent the evening, planned some -amusement for the next afternoon, and took leave. - -Ten days of weary waiting passed, and then Mrs. Helmstedt received a -letter from her husband, announcing that they had reached Washington; -that he had received a captain’s commission; had reported himself and -his company ready for service; and that they were then waiting orders. - -“Has my father any idea where he will be sent, mamma?” inquired -Margaret, after this letter had been read aloud. - -“No, my dear; at least he has hinted so; we must wait to hear.” - -Ten, fifteen, twenty more anxious days passed, heavily, and then came -a second letter from Mr., now Captain, Helmstedt, postmarked New -York, and bringing the intelligence that upon the next day succeeding -the writing of the first letter, he had received orders to depart -immediately with his troops to join General Van Rennselaer on the -Canadian frontier; that the suddenness of the departure and the -rapidity of the journey had prevented him, until now, from writing a -line home; but that they were now delayed in New York, for a day or -two, waiting for a reinforcement from the State militia. - -This was the last letter that Mrs. Helmstedt received for many months; -but she sent on and ordered the principal Northern papers, that she -might be kept advised of the progress of the campaign. - -Alas! little but continuous disaster signalized this opening of the -war; repeated rebuffs, varied by small successes, and climaxing -in the defeat of Hull, and the loss of Detroit, with all Michigan -territory. These calamities, while they shocked, aroused the temperate -blood of all those laggards at home, who, until now, had looked on -philosophically, while others went forth to fight. - -Colonel Houston applied for orders, and old Colonel Compton sat in his -leathern armchair, and swore at the gouty limb that unfitted him for -service. At length the news of the disastrous defeat of Van Rennselaer, -on the fourth of October, followed by his resignation of the command -reached them. And when General Smythe, of Virginia, was appointed to -fill his post, Colonel Houston received orders to join the latter, and -proceed with him to the Northern frontier. - -Ralph Houston was most anxious to enter upon the service; but at the -earnest entreaty of his father, reluctantly consented to remain, for -awhile, at the Bluff, for the protection of the family left behind. - -Mrs. Houston accompanied her husband as far as Buffalo, where she -remained to be in easy reach of him. - -At the Bluff were left old Colonel and Mrs. Compton (“a comfortable -couple,” who were always, and especially now, in their quiet old age, -company enough for each other), and Ralph Houston as a caretaker. - -At the lonely isle were left Mrs. Helmstedt and her daughter. And -very desolate would the lady have been, only for the presence of her -“dove.” Very monotonously passed the winter days on the sea-girt isle. -No visitors came, and the mail, bringing newspapers and an occasional -letter from Captain Helmstedt, Mrs. Houston, or Franky, arrived only -once a week; and not always then. But for the frequent society of Ralph -Houston, who was almost an inmate of the family, the dreary life would -have been almost insupportable to the mother and child. While they -sat at needlework in Mrs. Helmstedt’s private room, he read to them -through all the forenoon; or, if the sun was warm and the air balmy, as -often happens in our Southern winters, he invited them out to walk over -the isle; or when, in addition to warm sun and balmy air, there was -still water, he prepared the little _Pearl Shell_, the gift of Franky -to Margaret, and took the maiden across to the Bluff to visit the old -people there. But as no persuasion would ever induce Mrs. Helmstedt to -join them in these water trips, they were at last relinquished, or at -least very seldom indulged in. - -“Dear Margaret, I think your mother has a natural antipathy to water, -has she not?” asked Ralph Houston, one day, of the girl. - -“No, it is to leaving the isle; if my dear mamma was a Catholic, I -should think she had taken a vow never to leave Helmstedt’s Isle. As it -is, I am at a loss to know why she ever remains here, Mr. Houston.” - -“I never remember to have seen her off the isle, since she came here. -There must be a cause for her seclusion greater than any that appears,” -thought Ralph Houston, as he handed Margaret into the little skiff, and -threw his glance up to the house, where from the balcony of her chamber -window Mrs. Helmstedt watched their departure from the shore. For this -was upon one of those very rare occasions when they took a little water -trip, leaving the lady alone on the isle. As he glanced up, Ralph -thought Mrs. Helmstedt’s thin face more sunken, and her eyes more -brilliant, than he had ever noticed them before; and for the first time -the thought that death, speedy death, was awaiting that once glorious -woman, smote him to the heart. They were not out long; even Mr. Houston -now no longer pleaded with Margaret to remain out upon the water to see -the wintry sunset; but followed her first hint to return. The winter -evenings at the isle were pleasant with Ralph Houston for a guest. He -read to the mother and daughter, while they sewed or sketched; and -sometimes the three formed a little concert among themselves, Mrs. -Helmstedt playing on the harp, Margaret on the piano, and Ralph Houston -on the flute; and sometimes, that is to say, once a week, or seldomer, -the mail came in, bringing its keen excitement; it always reached the -isle on the evening of Saturday, when Ralph Houston was sure to remain -to hear the latest news of the absent. Always there were newspapers, -bringing fresh and startling news from the Canadian frontier, the -Indian settlements, or from the ocean, where our infant navy, like -young Hercules in his cradle, was strangling the serpents of wrong and -oppression, and winning more glorious laurels than were lost upon the -land. Sometimes, there came intelligence of a disastrous loss on the -Northern frontier--sometimes, of a glorious victory at sea; but whether -were the news of triumph or defeat, it ever roused Ralph Houston’s -blood almost beyond the power of his control. He chafed and fretted -like Marmion in Tantallon Hold. - -“A most unworthy task, dear Margaret, to be left at home to take care -of two old people, who do not need either my company or protection, -while the struggling country cries aloud for every man capable of -bearing arms to come to her help! A most unworthy post is mine!” - -They were standing alone within the bay window of the parlor, on Sunday -morning, after having read in the papers, that had come the evening -before, of the repulse of Smythe at Niagara. - -Ralph spoke as bitterly as he felt, the enforced inaction of his life. - -“A most unmanly part to play!” - -“‘They also serve who only stand and wait,’” said Margaret, gently. - -His stern face softened instantly, and he looked on her with a smile, -full of deep tenderness and beauty, as he answered: - -“True, sweet Margaret, yet, nevertheless, the only circumstance that -renders this standing and waiting endurable is--do you know what, dear -maiden? Your sweet society, and the thought that I may be useful in -making the days pass less heavily to you and to her who is dearer to -you.” - -A swift, burning blush crimsoned the neck and face of the young girl. -And just at this juncture Mrs. Helmstedt entered the room. Always -her first glance was directed in search of her daughter; and now, -she started and pressed her hand to her heart, at the tableau that -was presented to her. Within the crimson-draped recess of the bay -window the pair were standing. Ralph stood, resting one elbow upon -the frame of the harp, and clasping Margaret’s hand, and bending over -her half-averted and deeply-blushing face. Both were too absorbed in -their own emotions to perceive her gentle entrance, and she stood -for a minute, unobserved, gazing upon them. To Mrs. Helmstedt, her -young daughter, had, up to this hour, seemed an unconscious child, -and now she stood revealed to her a young maiden, awakening to the -consciousness of loving and being loved. Yet though this revelation -was unexpected, it was not quite unacceptable. More than in any other -man, Mrs. Helmstedt confided in Ralph Houston for the wisdom, goodness -and power, inherent in his soul, and including in themselves every -other virtue. And, after a few years, should she live to pass them, and -should he have the patience and constancy to wait--with less reluctance -than to any other man, would she entrust the life-happiness of her -only and cherished daughter, to the charge of Ralph Houston. All this -passed, in an instant, through the mind of the mother, as she crossed -the room and bade them “Good-morning.” - -Margaret started; the blush deepened on her face. But Mr. Houston, -still holding her hand, and leading her from the recess, greeted Mrs. -Helmstedt affectionately, and said, frankly, as one who would not -conceal his disposition: - -“I was just telling Margaret that nothing but her sweet society, and -the hope of being useful to herself and her mother, could reconcile me, -at this time, to the unworthy inactivity of my life.” - -“We should indeed be very badly off without you, Mr. Houston; but I do -not see what compensation for a dull life you can find in the company -of a little island rustic.” - -“‘A little island rustic,’ my dear lady. I have lived in the great -world where there are more false jewels than real ones, and I know how -to prize a real pearl that I find amid the sea!” - -“Do not waste poetry on my little girl, Ralph Houston.” - -“Again! ‘little girl!’ Well, I suppose she is a little girl, scarce -fourteen years of age, just in her dawn of existence! Yet the dawn is -very beautiful! and we, who are up early enough, love to watch it warm -and brighten to the perfect day,” he said, bending a grave, sweet look -upon the downcast face of Margaret. - -To break up this conversation and relieve her little daughter’s -embarrassment, Mrs. Helmstedt touched the bell and ordered breakfast to -be served directly in that parlor; and it was speedily brought thither. - -Spring at length opened, and the recluse family of the island were once -more in communication with the outside world. - -Old Colonel and Mrs. Compton paid a visit of a day and night to Mrs. -Helmstedt, and again, although they knew it to be a mere form, renewed -their oft-repeated entreaties that their hostess would return their -visit. - -The Wellworths came and spent a couple of days, and carried off -Margaret to pass a week at the parsonage. And during the absence of -the young girl, it should be observed, that Ralph Houston did not -slacken in the least degree his visits to the island, and his friendly -attentions to the solitary lady there. - -Soon after Margaret returned home, the doctor and Mrs. Hartley came to -the isle to spend a day, and when they departed took the maiden with -them to Plover’s Point to spend a fortnight. Truth to tell, the young -girl did not like to leave her mother; but Mrs. Helmstedt, ever fearful -of the effect of too much isolation and solitude upon the sensitive -nature of her daughter, firmly insisted upon her going. - -Ralph Houston was ubiquitous. He did not fail in daily visits to the -island, and yet two or three times a week he contrived to be twenty -miles up the river at Plover’s Point. There are no secrets in a country -neighborhood. The attachment of Ralph Houston, the heir of Buzzard’s -Bluff, to the little island maiden was no secret, though a great -mystery to all. - -“What can a man of twenty-five see in a child of fourteen?” asked one -gossip. - -“Money,” quoth the other--“money; Miss Helmstedt is the richest -heiress in the whole South, as she will inherit both her mother’s and -her father’s large property.” - -“Humph! I guess Mr. Houston will have to wait a long time for that -property; Mr. and Mrs. Helmstedt look as if they might be the elder -brother and sister, rather than the parents of Miss Helmstedt.” - -“It is true they are a very youthful-looking and handsome pair; but -at last their daughter will inherit their property, if she lives; -and meantime, when she marries, no doubt her parents will dower her -handsomely; and that is what Mr. Houston knows. Ah! he sees what’s -what, and takes time by the forelock, and wins her heart before any one -else dreams of laying siege to it.” - -“But her parents will never permit her to marry so young.” - -“Of course not; but what matter to Mr. Houston, if he can secure her -heart and her promise. He understands perfectly well what he is doing.” - -Thus, with their usual perspicacity and charity, the _quidnuncs_ of the -county settled the matter. - -Meantime the news from the Canadian frontier was of the most -disheartening character. The defeat and capture of General Winchester, -at Frenchtown, was followed speedily by that of Generals Greene and -Clay at Fort Meigs, and Generals Winder and Chandler at Burlington -Heights. - -Colonel Houston had been dangerously wounded, and after lying ill two -months in camp, was sent home to recuperate. He arrived at the Bluff, -in charge of Nellie, who had grown to be quite a campaigner, and -attended by his faithful servant, Lemuel. Nellie could not leave her -wounded soldier, but she dispatched a note announcing her arrival, and -explaining her position to Mrs. Helmstedt, and praying that lady to -come to her at once without ceremony. - -This was perhaps the severest trial to which Mrs. Helmstedt’s fidelity -had been put. She did not hesitate a moment, however; but wrote a -reply, pleading to be excused, upon the score of her shattered health. -This answer of course displeased little Mrs. Houston, who, in a few -days, just as soon as she could leave her invalid, went over to the -island with the intention of relieving her heart by upbraiding her -cold friend. But as soon as she met Mrs. Helmstedt and saw her changed -face, Nellie burst into tears, and cast her arms about Marguerite’s -neck, and had no word of reproach for the suffering woman. - -As Colonel Houston recovered from the fatigue of his journey, and -convalesced under the genial influences of his quiet home and native -air, Nellie often left him to spend a day with Mrs. Helmstedt. And as -often as otherwise she found Ralph Houston there before her. - -“That is right, Ralph,” she one day said, approvingly, “I shall be -sure to tell Franky, when I write, what care you take of his little -sweetheart.” - -“Sweetheart?” repeated Ralph, with a grave, displeased look. - -“Yes, sweetheart, or ladylove, if you like it better. Didn’t you know -that my Franky and little Margaret were cut out for each other?” - -“Really, no, nor do I know it now.” - -“Well, I inform you; so don’t go too far, my fine fellow.” - -Ralph was silent. These remarks affected him despite his reason, and -raised into importance many trifling incidents until now unnoticed, -such as the raillery of Margaret upon the subject of Franky by Dr. -Hartley; the favorite keepsakes of Margaret, all gifts of Franky; and -finally, the frequent correspondence between the young collegian and -the island maiden. Then Frank was handsome, gay, near the age of the -young girl, and had been her intimate companion for years. All this -looked very illy ominous to the hopes of Ralph, but he generously -resolved to investigate the case, and if he found an incipient -attachment existing between the youth and maiden, to withdraw at -once from the rivalship, at whatever cost to his own feelings. This -conversation with Mrs. Houston had occurred one Saturday afternoon, -as he was taking that lady from Helmstedt’s Island to the Bluff. So -anxious became Ralph Houston upon this subject, that after seeing his -stepmother safe home, he turned about and rowed swiftly to the island, -and entered the parlor just as Mrs. Helmstedt had received the weekly -mail. - -“I felt sure you would return and join us in discussing the news -brought by this post; and it is glorious, at last. This paper contains -an account of the repulse of Proctor from before Fort Stevenson, by the -gallant Croghan! Do read it,” said Mrs. Helmstedt, passing the paper to -Mr. Houston. - -“And here I am yet!” impatiently exclaimed Ralph, as he took the paper -and sat down to assure himself of the contents. But frequently, in -the course of his perusal, he glanced over the edge of the sheet at -Margaret, who sat absorbed in the letter she was reading--now smiling, -now looking grave, and anon with eyes swimming in tears. - -“Yes, it was a brilliant action, and Lieutenant Croghan is a true -hero,” he said, as he finished the perusal and laid the paper aside. -But his eyes were fixed on the maiden. Mrs. Helmstedt noticed this and -said: - -“Margaret has a pleasant letter from Franky.” Ralph visibly changed -color. - -“Read it, my child.” - -“You read it, Mr. Houston; dear Franky!” exclaimed the girl, half -smiling, half weeping, as she gave the letter to Ralph. Mr. Houston -felt that he must peruse it. It was a frank, gay, affectionate letter, -written as freely as a boy might write to his sister, yet much more -warmly than any boy would be apt so to write. Mr. Houston could gather -nothing definite from its contents. It certainly was not the letter -of a young, diffident, uncertain lover, but it might mean either an -intimate, youthful friendship or an understood betrothal. Upon the -whole, Ralph felt disheartened; but resolved to see farther before -resigning his hopes. He arose to take leave, and declining the friendly -invitation of Mrs. Helmstedt, that he should spend the night on the -isle, departed. - -The next morning Ralph had some conversation with his father, the -result of which was the consent of Colonel Houston that he should -depart, as a volunteer, to serve under General Browne. - -The same day Mr. Houston went over to the island to apprise his friends -there of his intended departure. Mrs. Helmstedt was not surprised or -displeased, but on the contrary, cordially approved his resolution. -But Margaret, no adept at concealment, betrayed so much deep and keen -distress, that Mr. Houston’s lately entertained ideas of an attachment -between herself and Frank were all shaken. And he determined, ere the -day should be over, to satisfy himself upon that point. In the course -of his visit he contrived to say, aside to Mrs. Helmstedt: - -“Pray, grant me a confidential interview of a few moments.” - -“Margaret, my child, go down to the quarters and see if Uncle Ben is -any better to-day, and if he wants anything from the house; and if he -does, have it got and sent to him. One of our gardeners is ill, Mr. -Houston. Now then, how can I serve you?” she asked, when her daughter -had left the room. - -“Mrs. Helmstedt, what I have to say relates to the fair creature who -has just left us. You will place confidence in me when I assure you -that, with the exception of those few impulsive words uttered the other -morning, and afterward repeated to you, I have never said anything to -your young daughter of the subject that lies nearest my heart; because, -in fact, it is an affair belonging to the future, and I did not wish to -be premature.” - -“You were quite right, Ralph. It is time enough three or four years -hence for any one to think of addressing Margaret.” - -“Assuredly. But yet, as I deeply appreciate and devotedly love this -young maiden, it behooves me to have some security that I am not -freighting with my whole life’s happiness some untenable bark in which -it may go to the bottom.” - -“And what precisely do you mean by that, Mr. Houston?” - -“In a word, I have gathered from the conversation of my fair -stepmother, and from other corroborating circumstances, that there -exists a sort of Paul and Virginia affection between my younger brother -Frank and Margaret Helmstedt.” - -“Permit me to assure you that testimony and circumstances have deceived -you. It is not so. Of Frank I cannot speak advisedly; but, as far as -her sentiments toward him are concerned, Margaret is heart whole.” - -“Are you sure of this?” asked Ralph, with a deep joy lighting up his -dark and earnest countenance. - -“Absolutely certain of it.” - -“Then, Mrs. Helmstedt, since this is so, and as I am about to depart -for a long and dangerous service, will you permit me to speak to your -daughter upon this subject?” - -The lady hesitated. - -“Understand me, if you please Mrs. Helmstedt. I know that, even under -the most auspicious circumstances, the marriage must be delayed for -years, and under any circumstances shall wait your fullest concurrence; -for my pearl once secured to my affections I can wait. Nor do I wish -now to bind her by any pledge to me, but leaving her entirely free, I -desire only to pledge myself to her, that I may write to her as freely -and confidentially as to my betrothed. You can trust me to that extent, -Mrs. Helmstedt?” - -“I can trust you fully to any extent, Ralph Houston. It is not lack of -confidence in you. But you understand that I must not sanction your -addresses to my daughter without consulting her father. Taking for -granted that your inclinations are approved by your family, I advise -you to get Colonel Houston to write to Captain Helmstedt upon this -subject. That is the proper course to pursue, and in the meantime I beg -you to delay speaking of this matter to Margaret until you have heard -from her father.” - -“I will obey you, certainly, Mrs. Helmstedt, although----” - -“The formality is a bore, you mean. Well, I know you think so, and yet -it must be borne.” - -Mr. Houston arose to leave. - -“Will you not wait to see Margaret?” - -“I think not now, Mrs. Helmstedt, for if she should wear the sweet, -pale face she wore just now, I should have some trouble to keep my -promise. Good-morning, madam.” - -The “inclinations” of Ralph Houston were highly approved by his father, -who sat down the same day and wrote to Captain Helmstedt, asking the -hand of Margaret in betrothal to his son, and stating that a mere -betrothal was all that was necessary to satisfy the young people for -some years. - -A weary fortnight passed before there could arrive any answer to this -letter. At last, however, it came. Captain Helmstedt, with the stately -politeness of his nature, acknowledged the compliment paid to his -daughter; expressed the highest consideration for the suitor and his -family; did not as a general thing approve of early betrothals or long -engagements; thought this, however, to be an exceptional case; and -concluded by referring the matter exclusively to the maiden’s mother, -in whose excellent judgment and maternal affection he expressed the -highest confidence. - -“There, you may look upon this as the sanction of your addresses; -for, of course, I suppose there will be no difficulty raised by Mrs. -Helmstedt,” said Colonel Houston, as he placed the letter in the hands -of son. - -“Oh, no, sir! in fact, Mrs. Helmstedt has given me to understand as -much.” - -“What is all that about?” inquired Nellie, who did not happen to be _au -fait_ to these transactions. - -Colonel Houston explained. - -“And Margaret will engage herself to you, Ralph, who are ten or -twelve years older than she is? And Mrs. Helmstedt will sanction that -engagement? Well, well, well.” - -“Why, what is the matter?” asked Colonel Houston. - -“This world! this world! I did not think that Margaret was so light and -fickle, or that her mother was so--governed by worldly motives.” - -“Pray tell me what you mean?” asked Ralph Houston, uneasily. - -“Why, the whole county knew Margaret and my Franky were like a pair -of young turtle doves. Everybody remarked it, and said they were born -for each other! Shame on you, Ralph Houston, to offer to supplant your -younger brother in his absence; and shame on that wanton girl and her -worldly mother to allow you to do it!” - -“Nellie, come, come, this will not do,” said Colonel Houston. - -“But I know what it means,” Nellie continued impetuously, “they know -you are the eldest son and heir according to our barbarous law of -primogeniture, which, I thank Heaven, Mr. Jefferson is about to get -repealed, and they think that you will have nearly all your father’s -estate, while poor Franky will have little or nothing; but I’ll see! -All that I have any control over shall go to swell the portion of my -Franky, until we shall see if he shall not be a little richer than his -fortunate elder brother. Oh, the unprincipled creatures.” - -“Cornelia!” exclaimed Colonel Houston, severely. - -Ralph’s face flushed for an instant, and then, controlling himself, he -answered, with his usual moderation: - -“You are in error, fair little mother; I neither could, nor would -supplant any man, least of all my brother; no such attachment as that -to which you allude exists, or has existed; I have ascertained that -fact.” - -But Nellie angrily averted her head without deigning to reply. And -Ralph, although he had so positively repudiated all belief in the -groundless assertions of his stepmother, nevertheless felt a deep -uneasiness impossible to dislodge. A single seed of distrust had -been sown in his heart, where it was destined to germinate and to be -fostered into strong and bitter growth. - -In the midst of this conversation the family were interrupted by the -entrance of Jessie Bell--as she was familiarly and jocosely called, -Jezebel--Mrs. Houston’s maid, who reported a messenger from the island -waiting without. - -“Let him come in here,” said Colonel Houston; and the next moment Uncle -Ben entered with a face so gray and corrugated that Mrs. Houston and -Ralph became alarmed, and simultaneously exclaimed: - -“Why, old man! what is the matter?” - -“Marster in heaven knows, ma’am! but I think my mistess is dying!” - -“Dying!” - -Every member of the family were now upon their feet, exclaiming and -questioning in a chaos of surprise, grief, and dismay. - -“Yes, ma’am, very suddint! No, sir, dere was no good come of it, as we -dem knew. Yes, Marse Ralph, sir, Miss Marget is with her ma, an’ very -much ’stress,” said the old man, answering right and left to the storm -of questions that was hailed upon him. - -“I’ll tell you all I know ’bout it, Marse Colonel Houston, sir, if -de ladies’ll hush an’ listen a minute. See, las’ night I fotch de -mail home ’s usual. Der was a letter from our marster as pleased our -mistress very much. I never seen her in sitch sperrits--she, nor Miss -Marget! We sarvints, we all noticed it, and said how something was -gwine happen. Same way dis mornin’, Miss Marget and her mother both in -sitch sperrits at the breakfas’ table. After breakfas’ dey went out -long o’ me in de garden, to ’rect me ’bout transplantin’ some late -flowers, and we were all busy, when all of a suddint mistess give a -short, low scream, and when we all looked up, there stood mistress as -white as a lily, pressing her hand to her heart and staring straight -before her. We glanced roun’ to see what scared she; and it was a -little, old, leaky boat with one oar, and a young man in a shabby -uniform, like a runaway sojer, just stepping from it onto the beach. He -came up while mistess stood there pale as death and pressing her hand -on her heart; and he tetched his cap sort o’ half impident and half -sorrowful. Mistess raised her hand for a minit as if to check him, and -then she beckoned him to follow her, and went on to the house. Miss -Marget looked oneasy, an’ I didn’t know what to make of it. More’n two -hours passed, and then the young man came out, walking fast, with his -head down, and passed right by without seeing us, and got into his -leaky boat, and pushed off as if the old inemy was arter him. - -“Miss Marget ran in the house to her mother. But in two minutes we -heard her screaming like she was mad, and we all about the place rushed -into the house, and up the stairs, into mistess’ chamber. And there -we saw our mistess, lying on the floor, like one stone dead, and Miss -Marget wringing her hands and crying, and trying to raise her. We were -all scared almost to death, for there, besides, was the cabinet, where -the plate and jewelry is kept, all open; and we made sure that that -’serter had robbed and frightened mistess into this swoon. Forrest went -arter the doctor; and Hildreth and Aunt Hapzibah put her to bed, and -tried every way to fetch her round. But when she come to herself, she -fell into convulsions; and when that was over, she sunk into the same -swoon. Then Aunt Hapsy sent me, pos’ haste, arter Miss Nellie an’ Mr. -Ralph. An’ here I is, an’ dat’s all.” - -Nellie, who looked very pale and anxious, now touched the bell, and -summoned Jezebel to bring her scarf, bonnet and gloves, while Mr. -Houston went out to order the boat got ready to take them to the island. - -And in less than a quarter of an hour Mrs. Houston and Ralph, forgetful -of their late feud in their common cause of anxiety, were seated side -by side in the boat, that, propelled by six stalwart negro oarsmen, -glided with directness and rapidity toward the island. As soon as -the boat touched the beach Nellie sprang out, and without waiting an -instant for Ralph, hurried to the house. - -“In her own bedroom, Mrs. Houston,” was the mournful reply of Hildreth -to that lady’s hasty question. - -Nellie hastened upstairs and entered the chamber of sickness and death. -Coming out of the brilliant light into the half-darkened room, Nellie -at first saw only Dr. Hartley standing at the foot of the bed; as she -advanced she found Margaret, pale, but still and self-collected, at the -head. Nellie’s haste and anxiety sunk into awe as she saw, extended on -the bed, the ruin of the once beautiful Marguerite De Lancie. All her -late displeasure was forgotten or repented as she gazed upon that form -and face so magnificent even in wreck. The pillows had been withdrawn -to give her easier breathing, and her superb head lay low; the lace -nightcap had been removed to give coolness to her throbbing temples, -and her rich, purplish-black tresses, unbound, rolled in mournful -splendor down each side of her pallid, sunken face, and flowed along -upon the white counterpane; her eyes were half closed in that fearful -state that is not sleep or waking, and that Nellie at first sight -believed to be death. - -Mrs. Houston turned an appealing glance to the physician, who bent -forward and murmured in an almost inaudible tone: - -“She is easier than she has been since her attack, madam. She has -been resting thus for” (the doctor took out and consulted his watch) -“twenty-five minutes.” - -“But what, then, is the nature of her illness?” - -“An acute attack of her old disease, brought on apparently by some -great shock.” - -“Is she in imminent danger?” - -“Hush--sh!” said the physician, glancing toward his patient. Nellie -followed that glance, and saw that Mrs. Helmstedt’s eyes were open, and -that she was attending to their conversation. - -“Oh, Marguerite! dear Marguerite! what is this?” cried Mrs. Houston, -bending over her friend and dropping tears and kisses on her deathlike -brow. - -“Nothing unusual, Nellie; only the ‘one event’ that ‘happeneth to -all;’ only death. Though in truth, it is inconvenient to die just now, -Nellie; this morning I had no reason to expect the messenger; and to -say truth, I was in no respect ready.” - -“Marguerite! dear Marguerite! let me send for the minister,” said -Nellie, wringing her hands and dropping fast tears. - -“No; what good can the minister do me, think you? No, Nellie; that is -not what I meant. If I have lived all my days for the pride of life and -the affections of the flesh, at least I will not mock God now with the -offer of a heart that these idols have ground to dust. As I have lived, -will I die, without adding fear and self-deception to the catalogue of -my follies.” Mrs. Helmstedt spoke faintly and at intervals, and now she -paused longer than usual, and, gathering breath, resumed: - -“But since this summons has found me unready, in other respects which -may be remedied, I must use the hours left for action. Nellie, Nellie; -this is no time for useless tears,” she added, seeing Mrs. Houston -weeping vehemently; “you must aid me. Dr. Hartley, will you grant me a -few moments alone with my friend?” - -“Not unless you both promise that your interview is not to be exciting -or exhausting.” - -“We promise, doctor, that on the contrary, it shall be soothing. -Margaret, my child, attend the doctor down into the parlor, and see -that refreshments are placed before him.” - -Pale and still and self-governed, the young maiden followed the -physician from the chamber. And the friends were left alone. - -“Colonel Houston got a letter from my husband yesterday?” inquired Mrs. -Helmstedt. - -“He got it this morning, dear Marguerite.” - -“I received one from my husband last night; he spoke of one mailed -at the same time to Colonel Houston; he consents to the betrothal of -Margaret to Ralph, or rather, he refers the matter to me, which amounts -to the same thing. Nellie, I have but a few hours to live; before I -die I wish to place the hand of my child in that of Ralph in solemn -betrothal; and, when I rest in the grave, you will take my orphan child -as your daughter home, and comfort her until her father, to whom Dr. -Hartley has written, arrives. Oh, Nellie, be kind to my dove!” - -“Indeed I will! Oh, indeed I will, though I was disappointed for -Franky! I will love her as tenderly as if she were my own. Don’t doubt -me. You know I have always been a good stepmother?” - -“An excellent one, dear Nellie.” - -“And don’t you know, then, how tenderly I should cherish your orphan -child? I have two sons; but no daughter; I should take Margaret to my -heart as a much-desired daughter,” said Nellie, earnestly, and at that -moment, in that mood, she sincerely meant all she said. - -“Thank you, dear Nellie. Margaret will, at the age of eighteen, -inherit the greater portion of my patrimony, including Plover’s Point, -which has been secured to her. This will make her independent. Upon -the demise of her father--long and happily may he yet live--she will -come into the possession of one of the largest fortunes in the South. -Ralph’s expectations, I know, are nearly equal; therefore, deny her no -indulgence, no wish of her heart that wealth can satisfy; for Margaret -is not selfish or exacting, and will make no unreasonable demands. But -how I twaddle. Have the soul of kindness toward my orphan girl, and -that will teach you what to do.” - -“Don’t doubt me, Marguerite. I will swear to you if you require it,” -said Nellie, who believed herself to be as constant as she was fervent. - -“It is enough! Is Ralph here?” - -“Yes, dearest Marguerite.” - -“Let him be called at once.” - -Nellie flew to do her friend’s bidding, and swiftly returned with Mr. -Houston. - -“Draw near, dearest Ralph; look in my face; but do not look so shocked; -you read what is before me, and what I wish you to do; you have seen my -husband’s letter to your father; there is another, which came yesterday -to me; Margaret will show it to you; go to her, dearest Ralph; she has -read her father’s letter, and is prepared to hear what you have to -say; go to her now, for I would join your hands before sunset; do not -leave her again until I leave her; and then take her with you to your -parents’ home to await her father’s coming. And oh! Ralph! as you hope -for the blessing of God at your greatest need, comfort your orphan -bride, as only you can comfort her.” - -“As God hears me!” said Ralph Houston, reverently, dropping upon -one knee, and bending his noble head over the wan hand the lady had -extended to him. - -“Go to her now, Ralph, for I would join your hands before sunset.” - -Ralph pressed the wasted fingers to his lips, arose and went out, in -search of Margaret. - -He found the maiden alone in her mother’s favorite parlor. Dr. Hartley -had gone out to send messengers for Mr. Wellworth and Colonel Houston -to come immediately to the island, if they wished to see Mrs. Helmstedt -once more in life. And Margaret had thrown herself down upon the sofa -in solitude, to give way to the torrent of grief that she had so -heroically suppressed in the sickroom of her mother. - -Ralph Houston entered the sacred precincts of her filial grief as -reverently as he had left the death-chamber of her mother. He closed -the door softly, advanced and knelt an instant to press a pure kiss -upon her tearful face; then rising, he lifted her tenderly, from the -sofa, and gathered her to his bosom. - -“Permit me, dearest,” he said, “for henceforth your sorrows are also -mine.” - -What farther he said is sacred between those two hearts. - -The day waned--the shadows of evening gathered over the earth, and the -shadows of death over the chamber. - -Mr. Wellworth and Colonel Houston arrived about the same time. - -The clergyman was immediately shown up into the chamber of Mrs. -Helmstedt. She was sinking rapidly. He went gravely to her side, -expressing sorrow for her illness, and anxiety to hear how she felt. -And finding from her answers that she still retained full possession of -her brilliant intellect, he drew a chair, sat down, and entered upon -religious topics. - -But Mrs. Helmstedt smiled mournfully, and stopped him, saying: - -“Too late, good friend, too late; I would that I had had your Christian -faith imprinted upon my heart while it was soft enough to receive the -impression--it might have made me happier at this hour; but it is too -late, and it does not matter!” - -“Not matter! that you have no faith! Oh! Mrs. Helmstedt, my child, is -it possible that with all your splendor of intellectual endowments you -lack faith!” - -Marguerite smiled more mournfully than before. “I believe in God, -because I see Him in His glorious works; I believe in Christ as a -wonder that once existed on this earth; but--as for a future state of -rewards and punishments--as for our immortality, I tell you, despite -all the gifts of intellect with which you credit me, and my extensive -reading, observation and experience, at this hour I know not where -in the next I shall be; or whether with the stopping of this beating -brain, and the cooling of this burning heart, thought and affection -will cease to exist; or if they will be transferred to another form and -sphere. I know nothing.” - -“God have mercy on you!” prayed the good minister, who would then and -there have sought to inspire the “saving faith,” but that the dying -woman silenced him. - -“Too late, dear friend, too late; the short time left me must be given, -not to selfish thoughts on my own uncertain future, but to the welfare -of those I am about to leave. Will you please to ring the bell?” - -The minister complied. - -Mrs. Houston forestalled every servant by hastening to answer the -summons. - -“Dear Nellie, bring Ralph and Margaret to me, and ask your husband and -the doctor to attend. And let lights be brought, Nellie; it is growing -dusky here, or else my sight is failing, and I would see the face of my -child plainly.” - -Nellie stopped an instant to press a kiss upon the clammy brow of her -friend, and then hastened to do her bidding. - -A few minutes after, the door opened, and Ralph Houston entered, -reverently supporting the pale but self-controlled maiden on his arm, -and accompanied by his father, stepmother, and the doctor. - -They approached the bed, and grouped themselves around it. On the right -side stood Ralph, Margaret, and Mr. Wellworth; on the left, Colonel and -Mrs. Houston and Dr. Hartley. - -The dying woman turned her dark eyes from one group to the other, and -then spoke. - -“We sent for you, Mr. Wellworth, to join the hands of this young -pair--not in marriage, for which one of them is much too youthful; but -in a solemn betrothal, that shall possess all the sanctity, if not the -legal force of marriage. Will you do this?” - -“I will do everything in my power to serve Mrs. Helmstedt or her -family,” said the clergyman. - -“Margaret, my love, draw this ring from my finger, and hand it to Mr. -Wellworth, who will give it to Ralph,” said Mrs. Helmstedt, holding out -her thin, transparent hand, from the fourth finger of which Margaret -drew the plain gold circlet, her mother’s wedding ring, and passed it -to the minister, who put it in the hand of Ralph Houston. Then the -dying woman turned her solemn eyes upon Mr. Houston, and in a voice -thrilling with the depth and strength of a mother’s deathless love, -said: - -“Ralph Houston, you promise here, in the awful presence of God--of the -living, and of the dying--to love and respect this maiden, as your -destined wife, and to wed her when she shall have attained a suitable -age?” - -Ralph passed his arm protectingly around the half-sinking form of -Margaret, and answered, slowly and solemnly: - -“In the presence of God, and of her mother, I promise to love, and -honor and serve, my affianced bride, Margaret, until such time as she -shall bestow her hand in full marriage on me, and thenceforth forever. -So help me God and all good angels.” - -“Amen. Now place the ring upon her finger.” - -Ralph Houston obeyed; and then Mrs. Helmstedt beckoned them to draw -nearer, and taking the hand of Margaret, she placed it in that of -Ralph, saying, solemnly: - -“Ralph Houston, I bestow upon you my heart’s precious child--my dove, -as you have heard me call her. Oh, be tender with her! And may God so -love and bless you, as you shall love and bless the dove that is to -nestle in your home.” - -“Amen!” in turn said Ralph. - -And still holding their hands together, Mrs. Helmstedt--skeptic for -herself, believer for her child--called on Mr. Wellworth to seal and -bless this betrothal with prayer and benediction. - -At the signal of the minister, all knelt. And while Mrs. Helmstedt -still held together the hands of the young couple, Mr. Wellworth -reverently lifted his voice and prayed God’s blessing upon the living -and the dying. - -They all arose from their knees, and Mrs. Helmstedt pressed those -joined hands to her lips before she released them. She was very much -exhausted, and turning to the doctor, whispered, in a voice nearly -extinct through faintness: - -“Doctor, I must live an hour longer--one hour longer, doctor--is there -no potential drug that will keep life in this frame for an hour?” - -“You may live many hours, or even days--nay, you may even recover, -dear lady--for while there is life there is hope. Now, you are only -exhausted, and this will restore you,” said the physician, pouring out -a cordial, and placing it to her lips. - -“Thank you; yes, this is reviving!” answered Mrs. Helmstedt, drawing -one deep, free breath. - -“And now you must lie still and rest.” - -“I will--soon. Dear friends,” she continued, addressing the group -around the bed, “you will please withdraw now and leave me alone with -my child. Go you also, dear Ralph, and leave Margaret with me. You will -have her all to yourself soon. Well, then, kiss me before you go,” -she added, seeing Ralph Houston hesitated. He bent down and pressed -a reverential kiss upon her cold forehead, and a loving one upon her -fading lips, and then arose and silently followed the others from the -room. - -And the mother and child were left alone. - -The room seemed changed and darkened. The shadow of some “coming event” -other than death hung over them. - -Mrs. Helmstedt lay with her hands folded in what seemed prayer; but was -only deep thought. - -Margaret stood affectionately waiting her wishes. - -Neither spoke for a few minutes. - -Then Mrs. Helmstedt said, in a changed and solemn voice, whose sound -caused Margaret’s heart to thrill with strange dread: - -“Come hither, my dove.” - -“I am here, sweet, dear mother,” replied the girl, striving to repress -her grief. - -The lady opened her eyes. - -“Come sit upon the bed beside me--sit so that I can see your face--give -me your hand.” - -Margaret obeyed, silently praying to God to give her strength to -repress the flood of tears that were ready to gush forth. - -“Little Margaret, for, though you are an affianced bride, you are still -my little Margaret,” said the lady, closing her fingers upon the soft -hand and gazing fondly into the dark, true, tender eyes of the maiden, -“little Margaret, some time ago, when your loving heart led you to -leave a festive scene to rejoin your lonely mother, and you surprised -me prostrated with grief and dismay, you implored me to confide my -sorrows to your faithful heart; and I told you that if ever I was -driven to trust the terrible secret of my life to mortal man or woman, -it should be to my loving, loyal child--only to her. You remember?” - -“Oh, yes--yes, mamma!” - -“That time has come, my dove! I have a precious trust to bequeath as a -legacy to some one; it is a secret that has been the grief and bane and -terror of my life; a secret that lies as yet between my soul and God; -yet must I not go hence and leave no clew to its discovery. - -“Little daughter--as I said once before--I love many; I worship one; -I trust only you; for of all the people I have known, loved, and -respected, you are the most true-hearted, I think also the wisest. Dear -child, I will not bind you by any promise to keep the secret about to -be entrusted to your charge, for I feel sure that for my sake you will -keep it.” - -“Through life and unto death, mamma; the rack should not wring it from -me; may God so keep my soul as I shall keep your secret, mother.” - -“Nay, nay, there is a contingency, my child, under which you might -reveal it; and it is to provide for this possible contingency that I -feel constrained to leave this secret with you.” - -“I will be faithful, dearest mother.” - -“I know it, my dove!--sit closer now and listen. But stop--first go and -see if the door is closed.” - -“It is closed, dear mother.” - -“Ah, but go and lock it, my child.” - -Margaret complied. - -“It is fast now, dear mother.” - -“Come then and sit upon the bed where you were before, so that I can -see your sweet face; give me your dear hand again--there!--now listen.” - - - - -CHAPTER IX. FALLING ASLEEP. - - - “Oh, Mother Earth, upon thy lap - Thy weary ones receiving, - And o’er them, silent as a dream, - Thy grassy mantle weaving, - Fold softly in thy long embrace, - That heart so worn and broken, - And cool its pulse of fire beneath - Thy shadows old and oaken!” - --WHITTIER. - -Meanwhile, the friends assembled downstairs, in Mrs. Helmstedt’s -parlor, waited anxiously for her summons. - -Presently, the bell rang, and Nellie Houston sprang up quickly to -answer it. And soon after she left, Margaret appeared, but with a face -so changed, so aghast, that all who beheld it were stricken with fear -and wonder. It wore no expression of grief, or terror, or anxiety--it -looked as if all these emotions were impossible to it, henceforth--it -looked awed and appalled, as though some tremendous revelation of sin -or suffering, or both, had fallen like a thunderbolt upon that young -brow, and stricken childhood from it at once and forever. - -Ralph Houston, who was waiting for her appearance, sprang up to meet -her, and, alarmed at her expression of countenance, hastened toward -her, exclaiming: - -“Margaret, Margaret! what is it?” - -But, with a gesture of almost awful solemnity, she waved him away, and, -silent as a visitant from the grave, passed through and left the room. - -Ralph gazed after her in consternation, and then turned upon his father -a look of mute inquiry. - -The colonel gravely shook his head, and remained silent. - -Margaret did not return. - -Some hours subsequent to this, near midnight, were assembled, in the -chamber of death, old Colonel and Mrs. Compton, the Houstons, Dr. -Hartley and Mr. Wellworth--all the family and friends, in fact, except -Margaret. She had not made her appearance since. With that look of -annihilated youth, she had passed through the parlor, and gone out. All -wondered at her absence from the dying bed of her idolized mother; but -none expressed an opinion upon the subject. - -The chamber was dimly lighted by a shaded lamp that stood upon the -hearth, and, reversing the natural course of light, threw the shadows, -in strange, fantastic shapes, to the ceiling. It projected the shadow -of Mr. Wellworth, who stood at Mrs. Helmstedt’s feet, up over the bed, -until it looked like the form of some dark spirit, swooping down to -snatch the soul of the dying. - -Mrs. Helmstedt lay on her back, with her head quite low, and her -hands wandering gently over the white quilt, as if in search of some -other clasping hands--sometimes murmuring softly to herself in calm -delirium, and occasionally opening her eyes and looking around -cognizantly, as though recognizing all who were present, and missing -one who was not. - -Nellie stood at her right hand, often bending anxiously over her. - -Another hour passed; and still Marguerite Helmstedt lay in a state of -gentle, whispering delirium, varied with brief lucid intervals. Was it -in the former or the latter of these conditions that she breathed the -name of her mother, then of her father, then of Nellie? - -At the sound of her own name, Mrs. Houston bent to listen to her words. - -“Nellie, dearest,” she murmured, very softly, “when prisoners die, -their bodies are given up to their friends, are they not?” - -“Yes, surely, dearest Marguerite, when they have friends to claim their -bodies,” answered the lady, greatly wondering at the strange direction -the dying woman’s delirium had now taken. - -“And if they have not friends, then they are buried in the prison -grounds, are they not?” continued Mrs. Helmstedt. - -“Of course, I suppose so, dear Marguerite.” - -“But, Nellie, I have friends to claim my body, after death, have I not?” - -“What do you say, dearest?” inquired Mrs. Houston, bending closer down, -for the voice of the dying was nearly extinct. - -“I say, Nellie, dear, when my spirit flees, it would not leave this -poor, racked frame behind in the prison. Claim my body, Nellie, and -bury it anywhere! anywhere! out of this prison!” - -“Yes, dearest Marguerite; be content; I will do it,” answered Mrs. -Houston, soothingly, as she would have spoken to a maniac. - -“What does she say?” asked old Mrs. Compton. - -“Oh, nothing to any purpose, mother. She is wandering dreadfully in her -mind,” whispered the unsuspicious Nellie. As if calmed by her friend’s -promise, Mrs. Helmstedt lay perfectly quiet for a few moments, and then -her fair, thin hand went wandering over the quilt, as if to clasp that -other loving hand, and not meeting it, she opened her large, dark -eyes, turning them about the dusky room, as if in search of some one; -then she raised and fixed them, with a wild gaze, upon that sinister -shadow that swooped over her head. - -At this moment, the door was quietly opened, and Margaret entered. Her -face had again changed. It now wore the look of one who had, in this -short space of time, suffered, struggled and overcome--of one who had -gazed steadily in the face of some appalling trial, and nerved her -heart to meet it--the look, in short, of a martyr who had conquered the -fear of torture and of death, and was prepared to offer up her life. -But from this night, through all time, Margaret’s face never resumed -its youthful character of simplicity and freedom. - -On coming into the room, her eyes were at once turned toward her -mother, and the first object that met their glance was the large, -starry eyes fixed, as if magnetized, upon the swooping shadow on the -ceiling. - -Margaret went at once to the fireplace and removed the lamp from the -hearth to the mantelpiece, and placed an alabaster shade over it, -thus reducing the spectres, and bringing the unnatural relations of -shadow and substance into harmony again. Then she went softly to her -mother’s side and slipped her hand into that wandering hand, that now -closed fondly and contentedly upon it. The clasp of her child’s slender -fingers seemed to recall the wandering senses of Mrs. Helmstedt. Her -dark eyes softened from their fixed and fiery gaze, as she turned then -on her loving child, murmuring: - -“Margaret! my little Margaret!” - -And presently she said: “It is time you were at rest, dear friends. Bid -me good-night. Margaret will lie down here by me. And we will sleep.” - -No one seemed inclined to comply with this proposition, until Mrs. -Helmstedt, looking annoyed, Dr. Hartley beckoned Margaret, who left her -mother’s side for an instant, to hear what he had to say. - -“My dear child, I myself am of the opinion that we had all best retire -from the room. Shall you be afraid to stay here and watch alone?” - -“Oh, no, doctor, no!” - -“‘But not alone art thou, if One above doth guide thee on thy way.’ -Very well; return to your watch, my child, and be sure, upon the least -sign of change, to call me quietly. I shall stay in the next room.” - -“Yes, doctor,” said Margaret, going softly back to her place. - -“Come, friends, I think we had better retire and leave this child with -her mother,” said the doctor. - -“Bid me good-night first,” said Mrs. Helmstedt, as they all prepared to -withdraw. - -They all drew near her bed--Mrs. Houston nearest. - -“You last, Nellie, you last, dear Nellie,” said Mrs. Helmstedt, as Mrs. -Houston stooped to receive her kiss. - -One by one they bade her good-night, and left the room. Mrs. Houston, -by request, lingered longer. - -“Come closer, Nellie--closer still--bend down,” whispered Mrs. -Helmstedt, “I have one last favor to ask of you, dear Nellie. A trifle, -yet I implore it. A foolish one, perhaps; for little may reck the soul, -even if it survive, where or how the cast-off body lies. But do not lay -me here, Nellie! Lay me at the feet of my father and mother, under the -old trees at Plover’s Point. Do you promise me?” - -“Yes, yes, dearest Margaret,” faltered Nellie, through her gushing -tears. - -“Now kiss me and go to bed. Good-night.” - -Mrs. Houston left the room, and the mother and child were once more -alone together. - -“Are you sleepy, little Margaret?” - -“No, dearest mamma.” - -“I am, and so ought you to be, my dove. Come, loosen your wrapper; -lie down on the bed beside me, and I will pat your little shoulder -softly, until we both fall to sleep, as we used to do long ago, -Margaret,” said Mrs. Helmstedt, speaking with a playfulness strange -and incomprehensible to her child, who, though her heart seemed almost -breaking, and though these tender words and acts weakened and unnerved -her, prepared to comply. Once more she lay down by her mother’s side, -and felt the gentle hand upon her neck, and the cooing voice in her -ear, as that dying mother sought, as heretofore, to soothe her child to -sleep. - -Let us draw the curtain and leave them so. - -The friends, dismissed from Mrs. Helmstedt’s deathbed, reassembled in -the parlor. The doctor lingered there for a moment to take some little -refreshment previous to resuming his watch in the spare room above. - -“What do you think of her now, doctor?” inquired Mrs. Compton. - -“I think, madam, that the quieter she remains the longer her life will -last. She will live through the night probably--through the morrow -possibly.” - -The night indeed was far spent. No one thought of retiring to rest. -The doctor took a lamp and a book, and went softly upstairs to sit and -watch in the room adjoining Mrs. Helmstedt’s. And the party who were -left below gathered around the little wood fire that, even at this -season, the chilly nights on the bleak island rendered necessary. - -Amid the distress and confusion that had reigned throughout the house -since the mistress’ illness, no usual household duty, save only the -getting of meals and the making of beds, had been attended to. Among -other neglected matters, the window shutters had remained open all -night. So that the first faint dawn of morning was plainly visible -through the windows. - -As soon as it was daylight the sad party separated--old Mrs. Compton -going about to take upon herself, for the better comfort of the family, -the supervision of domestic affairs, and Nellie stealing softly -on tiptoe up to the death-chamber. Nevertheless, the watchful old -physician heard, and came to speak to her at his own door. - -“How has she passed the night, doctor?” - -“In perfect repose, as far as I can judge.” - -Nellie stole noiselessly into the room, softly took away the night -lamp that was still burning, then gently opened a window to admit the -fresh morning air, and finally went up to the bedside to gaze upon the -mother and child. It was a touching picture. Both were sleeping. The -shadows of death had crept more darkly still over Mrs. Helmstedt’s -beautiful face, but she seemed to rest quietly, with one hand laid over -Margaret’s shoulder, in a protecting, soothing manner. Margaret’s face -had the troubled look of one who had been overcome by sleep, in the -midst, and despite of great sorrow. As Nellie gazed, Mrs. Helmstedt, -with the sensitiveness of the dying, perceived her presence, and opened -her eyes. - -“How are you, dear Marguerite?” inquired Nellie. - -Her lips moved, and Nellie stopped to catch the faint murmur that came -from them. - -“Hush--sh! don’t wake her. It took so long to get her to sleep--and -sleep is such a blessing.” - -“Sleep is such a blessing!” These were the last words of Marguerite -Helmstedt. Saying them, her eyes turned with unutterable love upon -the little form sleeping beside her, and her hand essayed again its -soothing part, but that dying hand was too feeble, and it slipped, -powerless, from its work. - -Margaret, at the same moment, opened her eyes, with that distressed, -perplexed expression wherewith we first awake after a great sorrow. But -in an instant all was remembered. Her mother dying since yesterday! -Simultaneously with this anguish of recovered memory came that strange -power of self-control, with which this young creature was so greatly -endowed. - -“How are you, sweet mother?” she asked, calmly. - -The lips of the dying woman fluttered and faintly smiled, but no -audible sound issued thence. Her powers of speech had failed. Margaret -grew deadly pale. - -“Do not be alarmed, and do not worry her with questions. She is very -much exhausted. The doctor will give her a cordial presently,” said -the pitying Nellie, seeking to conceal the terrible truth. But had she -looked for an instant into that pale, resolute face she would not have -feared any unseemly outburst of sorrow on the part of that young girl. - -Nellie, assisted by Margaret, placed Mrs. Helmstedt in an easier -position and arranged the bed drapery. Then, while old Mrs. Compton -and Dr. Hartley paid a visit to the room, she took Margaret downstairs -and constrained her to take a cup of coffee, that she might be able -to attend upon her mother through the day, Nellie said. And upon this -adjuration, Margaret forced herself to take some refreshment. - -After that the young girl resumed her watch, and never again left her -dying mother. - -As yesterday passed, so passed this day, except that Mrs. Helmstedt -was sinking faster. As yesterday, so to-day, she lay quietly, in a -gentle, murmuring delirium, not one word of which was audible, but -which flowed on in a continuous stream of inarticulate music. Her life -waned with the day. Late in the afternoon, during a lucid interval, she -signed her wish that all might depart from the room and leave her alone -with her child. - -And they went. - -And as upon the night preceding, so upon this afternoon, at a sign from -Mrs. Helmstedt, Margaret lay down beside her, as if consenting to take -some rest. At another sign she drew her mother’s powerless hand over -her own shoulder. And then, with a sigh of content, Mrs. Helmstedt -closed her eyes as if to sleep. - -The day was dying. The sun was sinking low on the horizon. In the -parlor below the friends of the family were watching its slow but sure -descent, and mentally comparing it with the steady decline of life -in one above, and mournfully wondering whether she could live to see -another sunrise. - -In the recess of the beloved bay window Mrs. Helmstedt’s forsaken harp -still stood in mournful splendor. The level beams of the setting sun, -now shining through this window, touched the harp, drawing from its -burnished frame responsive rays, “in lines of golden light.” A moment -thus stood the harp in a blaze of quivering glory, and then, as a sheaf -that is gathered up, the rays were all withdrawn, and the sun sunk -below the horizon. Simultaneously, as if some awful hand had swept -its strings, each chord of that harp in swift succession snapped, in -a long, wild, wailing diapason of melody, that died in silence with -the dying sun, as though all music, light and life went out together, -forever. All arose to their feet and looked into each other’s faces, -in awe-stricken silence. And the same instant a sudden, prolonged, -despairing shriek rang through the house. - -“It is Margaret! Something has happened!” exclaimed Ralph Houston, -breaking the spell. - -All immediately hurried upstairs with prophetic intimations of what had -occurred. - -They were right. - -Marguerite Helmstedt was dead, and her daughter was distracted! - -With matchless heroism Margaret had maintained her self-control until -now; but the grief restrained for her idolized mother’s sake now broke -all bounds--and raged, a wild, wild storm of sorrow. Who shall dare to -approach her with words of comfort? Who, indeed, can console her? Not -one of you, well-meaning friends; for you never sounded the depths of -woe like hers. Not you, young lover; for in the passionate idolatry of -her grief, she feels that to listen to your voice, beloved as it is, -would, at this hour, be sacrilege to the presence of the dead. Not even -you, holy, eloquent minister of God. Seek not to soothe her sorrow, -any one of you. It were vain, and worse than vain. It was a mockery. -Can you breathe the breath of life again into the cold bosom of the -dead mother that lies in yonder chamber? Can you cause that stilled -heart to beat? those closed eyes to open? those silent lips to speak -and murmur softly, “My little Margaret, my dove?” In a word, can you -raise the dead to life? If not, then go, and trouble her not with your -commonplaces. Before the image of an only child, just orphaned of her -mother, that merely human comforter who best comprehends her sorrow -would stand the most confounded--dumb. Leave her to God. Only He who -wounds can heal. - -That afternoon, late as it was, Dr. Hartley set off for his home, to -commence preparations for the burial; as, in accordance with Mrs. -Helmstedt’s directions, she was to be laid beside her father and -mother, in her ancestral resting-ground at Plover’s Point. - -It was long before Margaret could be forced to leave her mother’s -chamber, and then no one knew what to do with a child so lost in woe, -until, at last, her old nurse, Hildreth, without venturing a single -word of consolation, just lifted and bore her away from them all--bore -her up to an old quiet attic, a sort of “chamber of desolation,” where -she sat down and held her--still never breathing a word--only making of -her own embracing arms a physical support for the fainting form, and -her affectionate bosom a pillow for the weeping head. And so she held -her for hours while she moaned and wept. - -“Oh, mother, come back to me! I cannot bear it--I cannot! Oh, God, have -mercy! Send her back to me! Thou canst do all things, dear God--send -her back!” And sometimes: “Oh, mother! do you hear me? are you near -me? where are you? Oh, take me with you! take me with you! I am your -child, your heart’s child! I cannot live without you, I cannot! Oh, my -mother, call me after you--call me, mother! Don’t you hear me--don’t -you hear your child? Oh, mother, can’t you answer me--can’t you answer -your child? Oh, no--you cannot--you cannot! and I am growing crazy!” -And other wild words like these; to all of which old Hildreth listened -without making any expostulation, uttering any rebuke, or offering any -vain words of comfort. At last, when exhausted nature succumbed to a -deep and trance-like sleep, old Hildreth carried her down and tenderly -undressed and put her to bed, and sat watching hours while she slept. - -The next morning, when Margaret opened her eyes, her grief awoke -afresh. She wished to fly immediately to the side of her mother. -But this was strictly forbidden. At last, partly because she had -already shed such floods of tears, and partly because she made almost -superhuman efforts to control herself, she restrained the outward -expression of her grief, and went to Mrs. Houston and said: - -“Let me see my mother. If you do not, I shall die. But if you do, I -will be very quiet, I will not make a moan, nor shed a tear, nor utter -a single complaint. Consider--when the coffin is once closed I shall -never--never see her face or hold her hand again! Even now I can never -more hear her voice or meet her eyes; but I can look upon her face, and -hold her hands, and kiss her; but in a little while I cannot even do -that. Consider then how precious, how priceless is every moment of a -time so short; and let me go.” - -Margaret spoke with so much self-control and forced calmness that her -words and manner were strangely formal. And Mrs. Houston, deceived by -them, consented to her wish. - -And Margaret went down to the favorite parlor, where Mrs. Helmstedt was -laid out. The shutters were all closed to darken the room; but the -windows were up to ventilate it; and the breeze blowing through the -Venetian blinds of the bay window played upon the broken harp, making a -fitful moaning in strange harmony with the scene. Margaret reverently -lifted the covering from the face of the dead, and pressed kiss after -kiss upon the cold brow and lips. And then she took her seat by the -side of her dead mother, and never left her again for a moment while -she lay in that room. - -The third day from that, being Saturday, the funeral took place. As it -was to be a boat funeral, all the neighbors of the adjacent shores and -islands sent or brought their boats. A large company assembled at the -house. The religious services were performed in the parlor where the -body had been first laid out. - -After which the procession formed and moved down to the beach, where -about fifty boats were moored. Not a single sail among them--all were -large or small rowboats. The oars were all muffled, and the oarsmen -wore badges of mourning on their sleeves. - -The island boat, the _Nereide_, had had her sails and masts all taken -away, and had been painted white, and furnished with a canopy of black -velvet raised on four poles. The twelve oarsmen seated in it were -clothed in deep mourning. Into this boat the coffin was reverently -lowered. This was the signal for the embarkation of every one else. In -twenty minutes every boat was ready to fall into the procession that -was beginning to form. The boat containing the Rev. Mr. Wellworth and -Dr. Hartley led the van. Then followed the _Nereide_, with its sacred -freight. Behind that came _The Pearl Shell_, containing the orphaned -girl, Mrs. Houston and Ralph. - -After them came a skiff bearing Colonel and Mrs. Compton and Colonel -Houston. Other boats, occupied by friends and acquaintances, and others -still, filled with old family servants, followed in slow succession to -the number of fifty boats or more. - -Slowly and silently the long procession moved across the waters. -It formed a spectacle solemn and impressive, as it was strange and -picturesque. - -The sun was near its setting when this funeral train reached Plover’s -Point, an abrupt headland crowned with ancient forest trees, that -nearly hid from sight the old graystone dwelling-house. On the west -side of this bluff, under the shadows of great elms and oaks of a -hundred years’ growth, the family resting place lay. Here the boats -landed. The coffin was reverently lifted out. The foot procession -formed and walked slowly up the hill. And just as the latest rays of -the setting sun were flecking all the green foliage with gold, they -gathered around her last bed, that had been opened under the shade of a -mighty oak. There they lay her down to rest-- - - “There, where with living ear and eye - She heard Potomac’s flowing, - And through her tall, ancestral trees - Saw Autumn’s sunset glowing, - She sleeps, still looking to the West, - Beneath the dark wood shadow, - As if she still would see the sun - Sink down on wave and meadow.” - - - - -CHAPTER X. THE ORPHAN BRIDE. - - -“Come, Margaret, come, my child, it is time to go home,” said Mrs. -Houston, gently trying to raise the orphan from her kneeling posture by -the grave--“come, dear Margaret.” - -“Oh, I cannot! Oh, I cannot! Not yet! Not so soon!” - -“My love, the boat is waiting and the rest of our friends are gone.” - -“Oh, I cannot go so soon! I cannot hurry away and leave her here alone.” - -“But, Margaret, it is late, and we have far to go.” - -“Go then, dear Mrs. Houston, and leave me here with her. I cannot -forsake her so soon. Dr. Hartley will let me stay at his house a few -days to be near her, I know.” - -“As long as you like, my dearest child! as if it were your own -house--as it is--and as if you were my own child,” said the -kind-hearted physician, laying his hand as in benediction upon the -bowed head of the kneeling girl. - -“But, my child, think of Ralph! You have not spoken of him since--since -your hands were united. Consider now a little the feeling of Ralph, who -loves you so entirely,” whispered Mrs. Houston, stooping and caressing -her, and thinking that all good purposes must be served in drawing the -orphan girl from the last sleeping place of her mother. - -“Oh, I cannot! I cannot! I cannot think of any living! I can think only -of her! of her! my mother! Oh, my mother!” - -“What! not think of Ralph, who loves you so devotedly?” - -“Not now! Oh, I cannot now! I should be most unworthy of any love if -I could turn from her grave, so soon, to meet it! Mr. Houston knows -that,” she passionately cried. - -“I do, my Margaret! I feel and understand it all. I would not seek to -draw you from this place; but I would remain and mourn with you,” said -Ralph Houston, in a low and reverential tone, but not so low that the -good doctor did not overhear it, for he hastened to urge: - -“Remain with her, then, Mr. Houston! there is no reason why you should -not, and every reason why you should.” - -And so said Mrs. Houston, and so said all friends. - -“But what says my Margaret?” inquired Ralph Houston, stooping and -speaking gently. - -“No, Mr. Houston, do not stay, please; leave me here alone with -her--let her have me all to herself, for a little while,” whispered -Margaret. And Ralph arose up, thanked Dr. Hartley, and declined his -hospitality. - -“Good-by, then, dear Margaret! I shall come to you in a day or two.” - -“Good-by, Mrs. Houston.” - -“But you must not call me Mrs. Houston now, my child. You must call me -mother. I have no other daughter, and you have no other mother now. -Besides, you are my daughter-in-law, you know. So you must call me -mother. Say--will you not?” - -“Oh, I cannot! I cannot, Mrs. Houston! You are my mother’s friend, and -I love you very dearly; but I cannot give you her dear title. I had -but one mother in this world--in all eternity we can have but one; to -call another person so, however near and dear, would be vain and false; -excuse me, Mrs. Houston,” said the girl, gravely. - -“As you please then, dear. You will get over these morbid feelings. -Good-night, God bless you,” said Mrs. Houston, stooping and pressing a -kiss upon the brow of her adopted daughter. - -When every one else was gone, the old doctor lingered near Margaret. - -“Will you come now, my child?” he asked, gently. - -“Presently, dear doctor. Please go and leave me here a little while -alone with her.” - -“If I do, will you come in before the dew begins to fall?” - -“Yes, indeed I will.” - -The doctor walked away through the woods in the direction of the house. -Let us also leave the orphan to her sacred grief, nor inquire whether -she spent the next hour in weeping or in prayer. The doctor kept on to -the house and told his daughter Clare to prepare the best bedchamber -for the accommodation of her friend Margaret. - -And before the dew fell, true to her promise, Margaret came in. - -Clare took charge of her. If ever there existed a perfectly sound mind -in a perfectly sound body, that body and mind was Clare Hartley’s. -She was “a queen of noble nature’s crowning.” She was a fine, tall, -well-developed girl, with a fresh and ruddy complexion, hair as black -as the black eagle’s crest, and eyes as bright and strong as his glance -when sailing toward the sun; with a cheerful smile, and a pleasant, -elastic voice. She took charge of Margaret, and in her wise, strong, -loving way, ministered to all her needs--knowing when to speak to her, -and better still, when to be silent--when to wait upon her, and best of -all, when to leave her alone. And Margaret was by her own desire very -much left alone. - -Every morning she stole from the house, and went down through the woods -to sit beside her mother’s grave. For the first few days, the hours -passed there were spent in inconsolable grief. Then after a week she -would sit there quietly, tearlessly, in pensive thought. - -In the second week of her stay, Mrs. Houston came and brought her -clothing from the island, and with it a large packet of linen cut out -and partly sewed. This was a set of shirts that Margaret and her mother -had been making up for her father the very day that Mrs. Helmstedt had -been struck with her death sickness. - -“I thought that if she could be interested in any of her former -occupations, her spirits might sooner rally,” said Mrs. Houston to -Clare. And afterward, in delivering the parcel to Margaret, she said: - -“You know, your father will be home soon, my dear, and will want these -to take back to camp with him. Will you not try to finish them all in -time?” - -“Oh, yes! give them to me! how could I forget them. She was so anxious -they should be done,” said Margaret, with an eagerness strangely at -variance with her earnest, mournful countenance. - -In unrolling the packet, she came upon the shirt-ruffles that she knew -her mother had been hemming. There were the very last stitches she had -set. There was the delicate needle just where she had stuck it when she -left her sewing to go out into the garden that fatal morning. Margaret -burst into tears and wept as if her heart would break, until she became -exhausted. Then she reverently rolled up that relic, saying: - -“I cannot finish this ruffle. I would not draw out the needle her -fingers put there, for the world. I will keep this unchanged in -remembrance of her.” - -“And when will you be willing to come home?” said Mrs. Houston. - -“After my father comes and goes. I would rather stay here near her to -meet him.” - -“And, when he goes, will you come?” - -“Yes.” - -After dinner Mrs. Houston left Plover’s Point. - -Margaret remained, and, each morning after breakfast, took her little -workbasket and walked through the woods down beside the grave, and sat -sewing there all day. - -One day while she sat thus a gentle footstep approached, a soft hand -was laid upon her shoulder and a loving voice murmured her name. - -Margaret looked up to see the mild old minister, Mr. Wellworth, -standing near her. - -“My child,” he said, “why do you sit here day after day to give way to -grief?” - -“Oh, Mr. Wellworth, I do not sit here to give way to grief. I only sit -here to be near her,” pleaded Margaret. - -“But, my child, do you know that you grieve as one without hope and -without God in the world?” - -Margaret did not answer; she had never in her life received any -religious instruction, and scarcely understood the bearing of the -minister’s words. - -“Shall I tell you, Margaret, of Him who came down from heaven to light -up the darkness of the grave?” - -Margaret raised her eyes in a mute, appealing glance to his face. - -“Shall I speak of Him, Margaret? Of Him, of whom, when his friends had -seen him dead and buried out of their sight, the angel of the sepulchre -said, ‘He is not here, but risen?’” - -Still that uplifted, appealing gaze. - -“Of Him, Margaret, who said, ‘I am the resurrection and the life?’” - -“Oh, yes! yes! tell me of Him! tell me something to relieve this -dreadful sense of loss and death that is pressing all the life out of -my heart,” said Margaret, earnestly. - -The old man took the seat beside her, held her hand in his own, and for -the first time opened to her vision the spiritual views of life, death -and immortality--of man, Christ and God. - -Sorrow softens and never sears the heart of childhood and youth. Sorrow -had made very tender and impressible the heart of the orphan; its soil -was in a good state for the reception of the good seed. - -To hear of God the Father, of Christ the Saviour, of the Holy Ghost the -Comforter--was to her thirsting and fainting spirit the very water of -life. - -She followed where her pastor led--she sought the Saviour and found -Him not far off. Here Margaret received her first deep religious -impressions--impressions that not all the stormy waves that dashed -over her after-life were able to efface. In religion she found her -greatest, her sweetest, her only all-sufficient comfort. So it was in -following the strong attractions of her spirit that Margaret gradually -advanced until she became a fervent Christian. - -It was on Monday of the third week of Margaret’s visit that, just at -sunset, Mr. Helmstedt arrived at Plover’s Point. And, reader, if you -had been, however justly, angry with Philip Helmstedt, you must still -have forgiven him that day, before the woe that was stamped upon his -brow. - -His innocent daughter’s tempestuous sobs and tears had been healthful -and refreshing compared to the silent, dry, acrid, burning and -consuming grief that preyed upon the heart and conscience of this -stricken and remorseful man. Scarcely waiting to return the greeting -of the doctor and his family, Mr. Helmstedt, in a deep, husky voice, -whispered to his daughter: - -“Come, Margaret, show me where they have laid her.” - -She arose and went before, he following, through the deep woods, down -beside the grassy grave. - -“Here is her resting place, my father.” - -“Go and leave me here, my girl.” - -“But, my father----” - -“Obey me, Margaret.” - -She reluctantly withdrew, and left the proud mourner, who could -not brook that even his child should look upon his bitter, sombre, -remorseful grief. - -“I have killed her, I have killed her!” he groaned in the spirit. “I -have killed her as surely as if my dirk’s point had reached her breast! -I crushed that strong, high heart under the iron heel of my pride! I -have killed her! I have killed her! I have killed her in her glorious -prime, ere yet one silver thread had mingled with her ebon locks! And -I! What am I now? Ah, pride! Ah, devil pride! do you laugh now to see -to what you have driven me? Do you laugh to see that I have done to -death the noblest creature that ever stepped upon this earth? Yes, -laugh, pride! laugh Satan! for that is your other name.” - -Oh! terrible is grief when it is mixed with remorse, and more terrible -are both when without hope--without God! They become despair--they may -become--madness! - -It was late that evening when Mr. Helmstedt rejoined the family in -the drawing-room of Plover’s Point. And his sombre, reserved manner -repelled those kind friends who would otherwise have sought means to -console him. - -The next day Mrs. Houston came to make another effort to recover her -adopted daughter. - -Mr. Helmstedt met the bosom friend of his late wife with deep yet -well-controlled emotion. - -He begged for a private interview, and, in the conversation that -ensued, apologized for the necessity, and questioned her closely as to -the details of his wife’s last illness. - -Mrs. Houston told him that Marguerite’s health had steadily declined, -and that the proximate cause of her death was a trifle--the intrusion -of a fugitive British soldier whom she had relieved and dismissed; but -whose strange or rude behavior was supposed to have alarmed her and -accelerated and aggravated an attack of the heart to which she had of -late grown subject, and which, in this instance, proved fatal. - -“An attack of the heart--yes, yes--that which is the most strained -the soonest breaks,” said Philip Helmstedt to himself, with a pang of -remorse. - -Again and again begging pardon for his persistence, he inquired -concerning the last scenes of her life, hoping to hear some last charge -or message from her to himself. There was none, or, at least, none -trusted to Mrs. Houston’s delivery. Ah! Philip Helmstedt, could you -imagine that the last words of your dying wife to her absent husband -could be confided to any messenger less sacred than her child and -yours, when she was at hand to take charge of it? - -The same morning, when Mr. Helmstedt walked through the woods down to -the grave, he found his daughter Margaret sitting sewing by the grassy -mound. She arose as her father approached, and stood waiting to retire -at his bidding. - -“No, no, my child! you need not go now. Sit down here by me.” And -Philip Helmstedt took his seat and motioned Margaret to place herself -by his side. - -“Now tell me about your mother, Margaret,” he said. - -The poor girl controlled her feelings and obeyed--related how, -for months past, her mother’s life had steadily waned, how at -shorter and still shorter intervals those dreadful heart spasms had -occurred--how--though the narrator did not then know why--she had put -her house in order--how anxiously, feverishly she had looked and longed -for his return, until that fatal day when a sudden attack of the heart -had terminated her existence. - -“But her last hours! her last hours, Margaret?” - -“They were tranquil, my father. I spent the last night alone with -her--she talked to me of you. She bade me give you these farewell -kisses from her. She bade me tell you that her last love and thoughts -were all yours--and to beg you, with my arms around your neck and my -head on your bosom, to comfort yourself by loving her little, bereaved -daughter,” said the child, scarcely able to refrain from sobbing. - -“And I will, my Margaret! I will be faithful to the charge,” replied -the proud man, more nearly humbled than he had ever before been in his -life. - -“I passed the last two hours of her life alone with her. She died with -her head on my bosom, her hand over my shoulder. Her last sigh--I seem -to feel it now--was breathed on my forehead and through my hair.” - -“Oh, Heaven! But yourself, my Margaret. What were her directions in -regard to your future?” - -“She had received your letter, dear father, intrusting her with the -sole disposal of your daughter’s hand. And being so near dissolution, -she sent for Mr. Houston and joined our hands in betrothal at her -deathbed. Then she wished that after she had departed her orphan girl -should go home with Mr. Houston to wait your will and disposition, my -father.” - -Mr. Helmstedt turned and looked upon his youthful daughter. He had -scarcely looked at her since his return. Although he had met her with -affection and kissed her with tenderness, so absorbed had he been in -his bitter, remorseful grief, that he scarcely fixed his eyes upon her, -or noticed that in his two years’ absence she had grown from childhood -into womanhood. But now, when without hesitating bashfulness, when with -serious self-possession, she spoke of her betrothal, he turned and -gazed upon her. - -She was looking so grave and womanly in her deep mourning robe, her -plainly banded hair and her thoughtful, earnest, fervent countenance, -whence youthful lightness seemed banished forever. There was a -profounder depth of thought and feeling under that young face than her -great sorrow alone could have produced--as though strange suffering -and severe reflection, searching trial, and terrible struggle, and the -knowledge, experience and wisdom that they bring, had prematurely come -upon that young soul. - -Her father contemplated her countenance with an increasing wonder and -interest. His voice, in addressing her, unconsciously assumed a tone of -respect; and when in rising to leave the spot he offered her his arm, -the deferential courtesy of the gentleman blended in his manner with -the tender affection of the father. And afterward, in the presence of -others, he always called her, or spoke of her, as Miss Helmstedt, an -example which all others were, of course, expected to follow. - -The next day Mr. Helmstedt departed for the island. Margaret was -anxious to accompany her father thither, but he declined her offer, -expressing his desire and necessity to be alone. He went to the -island, to the scene of his high-spirited, broken-hearted wife’s long, -half-voluntary, half-enforced confinement; he went to indulge in -solitude his bitter, remorseful grief. - -He remained there a fortnight, inhabiting the vacant rooms, wandering -about amid the deserted scenes, once so full, so insinct, so alive with -Marguerite De Lancie’s bright, animating and inspiring presence--now -only haunted by her memory. He seemed to derive a strange, morose -satisfaction in thus torturing his own conscience-stricken soul. - -Once, from Marguerite’s favorite parlor, were heard the sounds of -deep, convulsive weeping and sobbing; and old Hapzibah, who was the -listener upon this occasion, fearing discovery, hurried away in no -less astonishment than consternation. And this was the only instance -in the whole course of his existence upon which Mr. Helmstedt was ever -suspected of such unbending. - -At the end of a fortnight, having appointed an overseer to take charge -of the island plantation, Mr. Helmstedt returned to Plover’s Point. - -This was on a Saturday. - -The next day, Sunday, his young daughter Margaret formally united with -the Protestant Episcopal Church, over which Mr. Wellworth had charge, -and received her first communion from his venerable hands. - -And on Monday morning Mr. Helmstedt conveyed his daughter to Buzzard’s -Bluff, where he placed her in charge of her prospective mother-in-law. -The same day, calling Margaret into an unoccupied parlor, he said to -her: - -“My dear, since you are to remain here under the guardianship of your -future relatives, and as you are, though so youthful, a girl of unusual -discretion, and an affianced bride, I wish to place your maintenance -here upon the most liberal and independent footing. I have set apart -the rents of Plover’s Point, which is, indeed, your own property, to -your support. The rents of the house, farm and fisheries amount, in -all, to twelve hundred dollars a year. Enough for your incidental -expenses, Margaret?” - -“Oh, amply, amply, my dear father.” - -“I have requested Dr. Hartley to pay this over to you quarterly. In -addition to this, you will certainly need a maid of your own, my dear; -and it will also be more convenient for you to have a messenger of your -own, for there will be times when you may wish to send a letter to the -post office, or a note to some of your young friends, or even an errand -to the village shops, when you may not like to call upon the servants -of the family. I have, therefore, consulted Mrs. Houston, and with her -concurrence have directed Hildreth and Forrest to come over and remain -here in your service.” - -“Are they willing to come, dear father?” - -“What has that to do with it, my dear? But since you ask, I will inform -you they are very anxious to be near you.” - -“I thank you earnestly, my dear father.” - -“Forrest will bring over your riding horse and your own little -sailboat.” - -“I thank you, sir.” - -“And here, Margaret, it will be two months before the first quarter’s -rent is due on Plover’s Point, and you may need funds. Take this, my -dear.” And he placed in her hand a pocketbook containing a check for -five hundred dollars, and also several bank notes of smaller value. -Margaret, who did not as yet know what the book contained, received it -in the same meek, thankful spirit. - -“And now let us rejoin Mrs. Houston and Ralph, who thinks it unkind -that I should thus, on the last day of our stay, keep his promised -bride away from him.” - -The next morning Mr. Helmstedt and Ralph Houston took leave of their -friends and departed together for the Northern seat of war. - -Margaret bore her trials with a fortitude and resignation wonderful -when found in one so young. The recent and sudden decease of her -idolized mother, the departure of her father and her lover to meet the -toils, privations, and dangers of a desperate war, and above all, the -undivided responsibility of a dread secret--a fatal secret, weighing -upon her bosom--were enough, combined, to crush the spirit of any human -being less firm, patient, and courageous than this young creature; and -even such as she was, the burden oppressed, overshadowed, and subdued -her soul to a seriousness almost falling to gloom. - -Mrs. Houston, to do that superficial little lady justice, applied -herself with more earnestness than any one would have given her credit -for possessing, to the delicate and difficult task of consoling the -orphan. And her advantages for doing this were excellent. - -Buzzard’s Bluff was a fine, pleasant, cheerful residence. It was, in -fact, a high, grassy, rolling hill, rising gradually from the water’s -edge, and, far behind, crowned with the dense primitive forest. - -Upon the brow of this green hill, against the background of the green -forest, stood the white dwelling-house, fronting the water. It was a -large brick edifice covered with white stucco, relieved by many green -Venetian window-blinds, and presenting a very gay and bright aspect. -Its style of architecture was very simple, being that in which -ninety-nine out of a hundred of the better sort of country houses in -that neighborhood were then built. The mansion consisted of a square -central edifice, of two stories, with a wide hall running through the -middle of each story from front to back, and having four spacious rooms -on each floor. This main edifice was continued by a long back building. - -And it was flanked on the right by a tasteful wing, having a peaked -roof with a gable-end front, one large, double window below, and a -fanlight above. There were also side windows and a side door opening -into a flower garden. The whole wing, walls, windows, and roof, was -completely covered with creeping vines, cape jessamine, clematis, -honeysuckles, running roses, etc., that gave portions of the mansion -the appearance of a beautiful summer house. This contained two large -rooms, divided by a short passage, and had been given up entirely -to the use of Ralph. The front room, with the large seaward window, -he had occupied as a private sitting, reading, writing and lounging -parlor; the back room was his sleeping chamber. A staircase in the -short dividing passage led up into the room in the roof, lighted by two -opposite gable fanlights, where he stowed his guns, game-bags, fishing -tackle, etc. - -Now, during the month that Margaret had passed at the Point, Ralph -had gradually removed his personal effects from this wing, had caused -both parlor and chamber to be newly papered, painted, and furnished, -and then expressed his wish that upon his departure for the Northern -frontier the whole wing, as the most separated, beautiful and desirable -portion of the establishment, might be given up to the exclusive use of -his affianced bride. - -Mrs. Houston consented, with the proviso that he should not vacate the -rooms until the hour of his departure for camp. - -Accordingly, the first evening of Margaret’s arrival she had been -accommodated with a pleasant chamber on the second-floor front of the -main building. - -But on Tuesday morning, after Mr. Helmstedt and Ralph Houston had -departed, Mrs. Houston and her maids went busily to work and refreshed -the two pretty rooms of the wing, hanging white lace curtains to the -windows, white lace valances to the toilet table and tester, etc., -and transfiguring the neatly-kept bachelor’s apartments into a lady’s -charming little boudoir and bedchamber. - -When all was arranged, even to the fresh flowers in the white vases -upon the front room mantelpiece, and the choice books from Mrs. -Houston’s own private library upon the center table, the busy little -lady, in her eagerness to surprise and please, hurried away to seek -Margaret and introduce her to her delightful apartments. She tripped -swiftly and softly up the stairs, and into the room, where she -surprised Margaret, quite absorbed in some work at her writing-desk. - -“Oh, you are busy! Whom are you writing to, my dear?” she inquired -eagerly, hastening to the side of the girl and looking over her -shoulder. - -She meant nothing, or next to nothing--it was her heedless, impulsive -way. She was in a hurry, and did not stop to remember that the question -was rude, even when Margaret, with a sudden blush, reversed her -sheet of paper, and, keeping her hand pressed down upon it, arose in -agitation. - -“Why, how startled you are, my dear! How nervous you must be! I ought -not to have come upon you so suddenly. But to whom are you writing, my -dear?” - -“To--a--correspondent, Mrs. Houston.” - -“Why, just look there now! See what a good hand I am at guessing, for I -even judged as much! But who is your correspondent then, my dear?” - -“A--friend! Mrs. Houston.” - -“Good, again! I had imagined so, since you have no enemies, my child. -But who then is this friend, you little rustic? You have not even -acquaintances to write letters to, much less friends, unless it is -Franky! Ah, by the way, don’t write to Franky, Margaret! He could not -bear it now.” - -Margaret made no comment, and Mrs. Houston, growing uneasy upon the -subject of Franky, said: - -“I hope you are not writing to Franky, Margaret!” - -“No, Mrs. Houston, I am not.” - -“If not to Franky, to whom then? It cannot be to your father or Ralph, -for they have just left you. Come! this is getting interesting! Who is -your correspondent, little one? Your old duenna insists upon knowing.” - -Margaret turned pale, but remained silent. - -“Dear me, how mysterious you are! My curiosity is growing irresistible! -Who is it?” - -Margaret suddenly burst into tears. - -This brought the heedless little lady to her senses. She hastened to -soothe and apologize. - -“Why, Margaret, my dear child! Why, Margaret! Dear me, how sorry I am! -I am very sorry, Margaret! What a thoughtless chatterbox I am of my -age! But then I was only teazing you to rouse you a little, my dear! I -did not mean to hurt you! And then I had such a pleasant surprise for -you. Forgive me.” - -Margaret slipped her left hand into Mrs. Houston’s (her right was still -pressed upon the letter), and said: - -“Forgive me. It is I who am nervous and irritable and require -sufferance. You are very, very kind to me in all things, and I feel it.” - -The little lady stooped and kissed her, saying: - -“Such words are absurd between you and me, Maggie. Come, I will leave -you now to finish your letter, and return to you by and by.” - -And then she left the room, thinking within herself: “The sensitive -little creature! Who would have thought my heedless words would have -distressed her so? I did not care about knowing to whom the letter -was written, I am sure. But, by the way, to whom could she have been -writing? And, now I reflect, it was very strange that she should have -been so exceedingly distressed by my questionings! It never occurred -to me before, but it really was rather mysterious! I must try to -find out what it all means! I ought to do so! I am her guardian, her -mother-in-law. I am responsible for her to her father and to her -betrothed husband.” - -Meanwhile Margaret Helmstedt had started up, closed the door and turned -the key, and clasping her pale face between her hands, began pacing the -floor and exclaiming at intervals: - -“Oh, Heaven of heavens, how nearly all had been lost! Oh, I am unfit, -I am unfit for this dreadful trust! To think I should have set down to -write to him, and left the door unfastened! Farewell to liberty and -frankness! I am given over to bonds, to vigilance and secretiveness -forever! Oh, mother! my mother! I will be true to you! Oh, our Father -who art in heaven, help me to be firm and wise and true!” - -She came back at last, and sat down to her writing-desk, and finished -her letter. Then opening her pocketbook, she took out the check for -five hundred dollars, drawn by her father, in her favor, on a Baltimore -bank, inclosed it in the letter, sealed and directed it, and placed it -in the sanctity of her bosom. - -Then folding her arms upon her writing-desk, she dropped her head upon -them, and in that attitude of dejection remained until the ringing of -the supper bell aroused her. - -Colonel Houston, who was waiting for her in the hall, received her with -his old-school courtesy, drew her hand within his arm and led her out -upon the lawn, where, under the shade of a gigantic chestnut tree, the -tea table was set--its snowy drapery and glistening service making a -pleasant contrast to the vivid green verdure of the lawn upon which it -stood. Old Colonel and Mrs. Compton and Nellie formed a pleasing group -around the table. Colonel Houston handed Margaret to her place, and -took his own seat. - -“My dear, I am going to send Lemuel to Heathville to-morrow, and if you -like to leave your letter with me, I will give it to him to put in the -post office,” said Mrs. Houston. - -“I thank you, Mrs. Houston,” said Margaret. - -“Ah! that is what kept you in your room all the afternoon, my dear. You -were writing a letter; whom were you writing to, my child?” said old -Mrs. Compton. - -“Pray excuse me,” said Margaret, embarrassed. - -This answer surprised the family group, who had, however, the tact to -withdraw their attention and change the subject. - -After tea, an hour or two was spent upon the pleasant lawn, strolling -through the groves, or down to the silvery beach, and watching the -monotonous motion of the sea, the occasional leap and plunge of the -fish, the solitary flight of a laggard water fowl, and perhaps the -distant appearance of a sail. - -At last, when the full moon was high in the heavens, the family -returned to the house. - -Mrs. Houston took Margaret’s arm, and saying: - -“I have a little surprise for you, my love,” led her into the pretty -wing appropriated to her. - -The rooms were illumined by a shaded alabaster lamp that diffused a -sort of tender moonlight tone over the bright carpet and chairs and -sofa covers, and the marble-topped tables, and white lace window -curtains of the boudoir, and fell softly upon the pure white draperies -of the sleeping-room beyond. - -Hildreth, in her neat, sober gown of gray stuff, and her apron, -neckhandkerchief and turban of white linen, stood in attendance. - -Margaret had not seen her faithful nurse for a month--that is, not -since her mother’s decease--and now she sprang to greet her, scarcely -able to refrain from bursting into tears. - -Mrs. Houston interfered. - -“Now, my dear Margaret, here are your apartments--a sweet little -boudoir and chamber, I flatter myself, as can be found in -Maryland--connected with the house, yet entirely separate and private. -And here are your servants; Hildreth will occupy the room in the roof -above, and Forrest has a quarter in the grove there, within easy sound -of your bell. Your boat is secure in the boathouse below, and your -horse is in the best stall in the stable.” - -“I thank you, dear Mrs. Houston.” - -“I understand, also, that your father has assigned you a very liberal -income. Consequently, my dear, you are in all things as independent as -a little queen in her palace. Consider also, dear Margaret, that it -is a great accession of happiness to us all to have you here, and we -should wish to have as much of your company as possible. Therefore, -when you are inclined to society, come among us; at all other times, -you can retire to this, your castle. And at all times and seasons our -house and servants are at your orders, Margaret; for you know that -as the bride of our eldest son and heir, you are in some sort our -Princess of Wales,” she concluded, playfully. - -“I thank you, dear Mrs. Houston,” again said the young girl. Her -thoughts were too gravely preoccupied to give much attention to the -prattle of the lady. - -“And by the way, Margaret, where is your letter, my dear? I shall -dispatch Lemuel early in the morning.” - -“You are very considerate, Mrs. Houston, but I do not purpose to send -it by Lemuel.” - -“As you please, my dear. Good-night,” she said, kissing the maiden with -sincere affection, notwithstanding that, as she left the room, her -baffled curiosity induced her to murmur: - -“There is some ill mystery, that I am constrained to discover, -connected with that letter.” - -Miss Helmstedt, left to herself, directed Hildreth to secure the doors -communicating with the main building, and then go and call Forrest to -her presence. - -“I shall not tax you much, Forrest,” she said, “though to-night I have -to require rather an arduous service of you.” - -“Nothing is hard that I do for you, Miss Margaret,” replied Forrest. - -“Listen then--to-night, after you are sure that all the family are -retired, and there is no possibility of your being observed, take my -horse from the stable, and ride, as for your life, to Belleview, and -put this carefully in the post office,” she said, drawing the letter -from her bosom and placing it in the hand of Forrest. - -The old man looked at her wistfully, uneasily, drew a deep sigh, bowed -reverently, put the letter in his pocket, and, at a sign from his -mistress, left the room. - -But that night at eleven o’clock, Nellie, watching from her window, -saw Miss Helmstedt’s messenger ride away over the hills through the -moonlight. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. THE MYSTERIOUS CORRESPONDENT. - - -“You, sir! I want to see you! Come hither!” said Mrs. Houston, as -she stood upon the back piazza, early the next morning, and beckoned -Forrest to her presence. - -The old man bowed in his deferential manner, advanced and stood hat in -hand before the little lady. - -“Where did you go last night after we had all retired?” - -Forrest bowed again, humbly and deprecatingly, but remained silent. - -“Did you hear me speak to you?” inquired Mrs. Houston, impatiently. - -The old man bowed once more very meekly, and answered: - -“I went after no harm, mistress.” - -“Nor after any good, I’ll venture to say!--but that is not the point, -sir. I ask you where you went! and I intend to have an answer.” - -“I begs your pardon sincere, mistress, but mus’ ’cline for to ’form -you.” - -“You old villain! Do you dare to defy me here on my own premises? -I’ll see about this!” exclaimed the lady, in a voice more shrill than -ladylike, as with a flushed face and excited air she turned into the -house to summon Colonel Houston. - -But she was intercepted by Margaret, who had heard the voice, and now -came from her own apartment and stood before her. - -“Stay, Mrs. Houston, I sent Forrest away on an errand, last night, and -if he declined to inform you whither he went, it was from no disrespect -to you; but from fidelity to me. I had enjoined him not to speak to any -one of his errand,” she said, in a voice and manner so respectful as to -take away everything offensive from her words. - -“You did! Now then where did you send him, Margaret? I am your -guardian, and I have a right to know.” - -“You must forgive me, Mrs. Houston, if I decline to inform you,” -replied the maiden, firmly, though still very respectfully. - -“I know, however. It was to mail that letter.” - -“You must draw your own conclusions, dear madam.” - -“I know it was to mail that letter! And I will put on my bonnet and -drive over to the post office, and demand of the postmaster to whom the -letter mailed last night by the negro Forrest was directed! There’s not -so many letters go to that little office but what he will be able to -recollect!” exclaimed Mrs. Houston, angrily. - -“Oh, God!” - -The words breathed forth possessed so much of prayerful woe that the -little lady half started, and turned back to see Margaret grow pale and -sink upon the corner of the hall settee. - -Mrs. Houston hesitated between her curiosity and anger on the one hand, -and her pity on the other. Finally she made a compromise. Coming to -Margaret’s side, she said: - -“Maggie, I am treated abominably, standing as I do in your mother’s -place toward you, and being as I am your guardian--abominably! Now I -am sure I do not wish to pry into your correspondence, unless it is an -improper one.” - -“Mrs. Houston, my mother’s daughter could not have an improper -correspondence, as you should be the first to feel assured.” - -“Yet, Margaret, as it appears to me, if this correspondence were -proper, you would not be so solicitous to conceal it from me.” - -It occurred to Margaret to reply, “Mrs. Houston, suppose that I -were writing sentimental letters to a female friend, which might -not be really wrong, yet which I should not like to expose to your -ridicule, would I not, in such a case, even though it were a proper -correspondence, be solicitous to conceal it from you?”--but her exact -truthfulness prevented her from putting this supposititious case, and -as she did not in any other manner reply, Mrs. Houston continued: - -“So you see, Margaret, that you force me to investigate this matter, -and I shall, therefore, immediately after breakfast, proceed to the -village to make inquiries at the post office.” And having announced -this resolution, the lady, still struggling with her feelings of -displeasure, left the hall. - -Margaret withdrew to her own sitting-room, and threw herself upon her -knees to pray. Soon rising she touched the bell and summoned Forrest. - -The old man came in looking very sorrowful. - -“How did it become known that you left the premises last night, -Forrest?” - -“Somebody must o’ ’spicioned me, chile, an’ been on de watch.” - -“Yes! yes! I see now! that was it; but, Forrest, this is what I called -you to say: In future, whenever Mrs. Houston asks you a question about -your services to your mistress, refer her to me.” - -“Yes, Miss Marget.” - -“You may go now.” - -“Pardon, Miss Marget; I wants to say somefin as’ll set your min’ at -ease ’bout dat letter.” - -“Ah, yes, you mailed it?” - -“True for you, Miss Marget; but listen; de pos’ office was shet up. -So I jes drap de letter inter de letter-box. Same minit der was two -colored boys an’ a white man drap as many as five or six letters in -long o’ mine. So even ef de pos’masser could o’ see me t’rough de -winder, which he couldn’t, how he gwine know which letter ’mong de -half-dozen I drap in?” - -“True! true! true! Oh, that was very providential! Oh, thank Heaven!” -exclaimed Margaret, fervently clasping her hands. - -The old man bowed and retired. - -After breakfast, Mrs. Houston, without explaining the motive of her -journey to any one, ordered her carriage, and drove to the village as -upon a shopping excursion. - -Now you have not known Mrs. Nellie Houston thus long without -discovering that with some good qualities, she was, in some respects, -a very silly woman. She drove up to the post office, and by her -indiscreet questions respecting “a certain letter mailed the night -before by Forrest, the messenger of her ward, Miss Helmstedt,” set -the weak-headed young postmaster to wondering, conjecturing and -speculating. And when she found that he could give her no satisfaction -in respect of the letter, she made matters worse by directing him to -detain any letters sent there by her ward, Miss Helmstedt, unless such -letters happened to be directed to a Helmstedt or a Houston, who were -the only correspondents of Miss Helmstedt recognized by her family. - -The postmaster thereupon informed Mrs. Houston, that if she wished -to interfere with the correspondence of her ward, she must do so at -her own discretion, and necessarily before they should be sent to his -office, as he had no authority to detain letters sent thither to be -mailed, and might even be subjected to prosecution for so doing. - -Mrs. Houston went away baffled and angered, and also totally -unconscious of the serious mischief she had set on foot. - -To an idle and shallow young man she had spoken indiscreetly of the -young maiden whose orphanage she had promised to cherish and defend, -exposing her actions to suspicion and her character to speculation. She -had left the spotless name of Margaret Helmstedt a theme of low village -gossip. - -And thus having done as much evil as any foolish woman could well do in -an hour, she entered her carriage, and with the solemn conviction of -having discharged her duty, drove home to the Bluff. - -“God defend me, only, from my friends, for of my enemies I can myself -take care,” prayed one who seemed to have known this world right well. - -From that day Margaret Helmstedt, whenever she had occasion to write -a letter, took care to turn the key of her room door; and whenever -she had occasion to mail one, took equal precaution to give it, -unperceived, into the hands of Forrest, with directions that he should -drop it into the letter-box at a moment when he should see other -letters, from other sources, going in. Poor girl! she was slowly -acquiring an art hateful to her soul. And one also that did not avail -her greatly. For notwithstanding all her precautions, the report -crept about that Miss Helmstedt had a secret correspondent, very much -disapproved of by her friends. And in course of time also, the name -of this correspondent transpired. And this is the manner in which it -happened. Young Simpson, the postmaster, to whom Mrs. Houston had so -imprudently given a portion of her confidence, found his curiosity -piqued to discover who this forbidden correspondent might be, and after -weeks of patient waiting, convinced himself that the letters addressed -in a fair Italian hand to a certain person were those dropped into the -box by Miss Helmstedt’s messenger, old Forrest. A few more observations -confirmed this conviction. Then wishing to gain consequence in the -eyes of Mrs. Houston, he availed himself of the first opportunity -presented by the presence of that lady at the office to inform her of -the discovery he had made. - -“You are sure that is the name?” inquired the lady, in surprise. - -“Yes, madam, that is the name, in a regular slanting hand. I always -find a letter bearing that name in the box the moment after that old -man has been seen about here, and never at any other time.” - -“Very well; I thank you for your information; but mind! pray do not -speak of this matter to any one but myself; for I would not like to -have this subject discussed in town,” said Mrs. Houston. - -“Oh, certainly not, madam! You may rely on me,” replied the young man, -who, in half an hour afterward, laughed over the whole affair with -a companion, both making very merry over the idea that the wealthy -heiress, Miss Helmstedt, should be engaged to one lover and in private -correspondence with another. - -And so the ball set in motion by Nellie’s indiscretion rolled finely, -never wanting a helping hand to propel it on its course; and gathered -as it rolled. The rumor changed its form: the gossip became slander. -And every one in the county, with the exception of Miss Helmstedt and -her friends, “knew” that young lady was in “secret” correspondence with -a low, disreputable sailor, whose acquaintance she had formed in some -inexplicable manner, and the discovery of whose surreptitious visits to -the island had been the proximate cause of her mother’s death. - -Could Mrs. Houston have imagined half the evil that must accrue -from her own imprudent conversation, she would have been touched -with compunction; as it was, hearing nothing whatever of this -injurious calumny, the guilty reveled in the rewards of “an approving -conscience.” She kept her discovery of the mysterious name to herself; -hinting to no one, least of all to Margaret, the extent of her -knowledge upon this subject. And in order to throw the girl off her -guard, she was careful never to resume the subject of the letters. - -And the plan succeeded so far that Margaret continued, at intervals of -three or four weeks, to send off those mysterious letters, and thus the -scandal grew and strengthened. That upon such slight grounds the good -name of an innocent girl should have been assailed may astonish those -unacquainted with the peculiar character of a neighborhood where the -conduct of woman is governed by the most stringent conventionalism, -and where such stringency is made necessary by the existing fact, -that the slightest eccentricity of conduct, however innocent, or even -meritorious it may be, is made the ground of the gravest animadversions. - -Mrs. Houston, unconscious, as I said, of the rumors abroad, and biding -her time for farther discoveries, treated Margaret with great kindness. -Nellie had always, of all things, desired a daughter of her own. In her -attached stepchild, Franky, she felt that she had quite a son of her -own, and in Margaret she would have been pleased to possess the coveted -daughter. As well as her capricious temper would allow her to do so, -she sought to conduct herself as a mother toward the orphan girl; at -times overwhelming her with flippant caresses and puerile attentions, -which she might have mistaken for “the sweet, small courtesies of -life,” but which were very distasteful and unwelcome to one of Margaret -Helmstedt’s profound, earnest, impassioned soul, and mournful life -experiences. - -The malaria of slander that filled all the air without must necessarily -at last penetrate the precincts of home. - -One day, a miserable, dark, drizzling day, near the last of November, -Mr. Wellworth presented himself at the Bluff, and requested to see Mrs. -Houston alone. - -Nellie obeyed the summons, and went to receive the pastoral call in -the front parlor across the hall from Margaret’s wing. - -On entering the room she was struck at once by the unusually grave and -even troubled look of the minister. - -He arose and greeted her, handed a chair, and when she was seated -resumed his own. - -And then, after a little conversation, opened the subject of his visit. - -“Mrs. Houston it is my very painful duty to advise you of the existence -of certain rumors in regard to your amiable ward that I know to be as -false as they are injurious, but with which I am equally certain you -should be made acquainted.” - -Nellie was really amazed--so unconscious was she of the effect of her -own mischief-making. She drew out her perfumed pocket handkerchief to -have it ready, and then inquired: - -“To what purpose should I be informed of false, injurious rumors, sir? -I know nothing of the rumors to which you refer.” - -“I verily believe you, madam. But you should be made acquainted with -them, as, in the event of their having been occasioned by any little -act of thoughtlessness on the part of Miss Helmstedt, you may counsel -that young lady and put a stop to this gossiping.” - -“I do entreat you, sir, to speak plainly.” - -“You must pardon me then, madam, if I take you at your word. It -is currently reported, then, that Miss Helmstedt is in secret -correspondence, ‘secret’ no longer, with a person of low and -disreputable character, a waterman, skipper, or something of the sort, -whose acquaintance she formed in her mother’s lifetime and during -her father’s absence, while she lived almost alone, on her native -island. Now, of course, I know this rumor to be essentially false and -calumnious; but I know also how delicate is the bloom on a young girl’s -fair name, and how easily a careless handling will smirch it. Some -thoughtless, perhaps some praiseworthy act on the part of this young -creature--such as the sending of charitable donations through the post -office, or something of the sort--may have given rise to this rumor, -which should at once be met and put down by her friends. But I advise -you, my dear madam, to speak to Miss Helmstedt and ascertain what -ground, if any, however slight, there may be for this injurious rumor.” - -For all answer, Mrs. Houston put her handkerchief to her face and began -to weep. - -“No, no, my dear Mrs. Houston, don’t take this too much to heart! these -things must be firmly confronted and dealt with--not wept over.” - -“Oh, sir! good sir! you don’t know! you don’t know! It is too true! -Margaret gives me a world of anxiety.” - -“Madam! you shock me! What is it you say?” - -“Oh! sir, I am glad you came this morning! I have been wanting to ask -your advice for a long time; but I did not like to. It is too true! -Margaret is very imprudent!” - -“Dear Heaven, madam! do you tell me that you knew of this report, and -that it is not unfounded?” - -“Oh! no, sir, I knew nothing of the report, as I told you before! I -knew that Margaret was very, very imprudent, and gave me excessive -uneasiness, but I did not dream that she had compromised herself -to such an extent! Oh, never!” exclaimed Nellie, still and always -unsuspicious of her own great share in creating the evil. - -“You said that you had thought of asking my counsel. If you please to -explain, my dear Mrs. Houston, you shall have the benefit of the best -counsel my poor ability will furnish.” - -“Oh! Heavens, sir! girls are not what they used to be when I was -young--though I am scarcely middle-aged now--but they are not.” - -“And Miss Helmstedt?” - -“Oh, sir! Margaret is indeed in correspondence with some unknown man, -whose very name I never heard in all my life before! She does all she -can to keep the affair secret, and she thinks she keeps it so; but poor -thing, having very little art, she cannot succeed in concealing the -fact that she sends off these mysterious letters about once a month.” - -“And do you not expostulate with her?” inquired the deeply-shocked -minister. - -“Oh, I did at first, sir, but I made no more impression upon her than -if she had been a marble statue of Firmness. She would not tell me who -her correspondent was, where he was, what he was, what was the nature -of the acquaintance between them; in short, she would tell me nothing -about him.” - -“And can neither Colonel nor Mrs. Compton, nor your husband, impress -her with the impropriety of this proceeding?” - -“Oh, sir, they know nothing about it. No one in this house knows -anything about Margaret’s conduct but myself. And the rumor you have -just brought me has never reached them, I am sure.” - -“Suppose you let me talk with my young friend. She means well, I am -sure.” - -“Well, sir, you shall have the opportunity you desire. But--excuse me -for quoting for your benefit a homely adage--‘Trot sire, trot dam, and -the colt will never pace!’ Margaret Helmstedt takes stubbornness from -both parents, and may be supposed to have a double allowance,” said -Mrs. Houston, putting her hand to the bell cord. - -A servant appeared. - -“Let Miss Helmstedt know that Mr. Wellworth desires to see her,” said -Mrs. Houston. - -The messenger withdrew, and soon returned with the answer that -Miss Helmstedt would be glad to receive Mr. Wellworth in her own -sitting-room. - -“Will you accompany me hither then, Mrs. Houston?” - -“No, I think not, sir. I fancy Miss Helmstedt prefers a private -interview with her pastor. And I believe also that such a one would -afford the best opportunity for your counseling Margaret.” - -“Then you will excuse me, madam?” - -“Certainly; and await here the issue of your visit,” said Mrs. Houston. - -With a bow, the clergyman left the room, crossed the hall, and rapped -at the door of Miss Helmstedt’s parlor. - -It was opened by Hildreth, who stood in her starched puritanical -costume, curtseying while the pastor entered the pretty boudoir. - -Margaret, still clothed in deep mourning, with her black hair plainly -banded each side of her pale, clear, thoughtful face, sat in her low -sewing-chair, engaged in plain needlework. She quietly laid it aside, -and, with a warm smile of welcome, arose to meet her minister. - -“You are looking better than when I saw you last, my child,” said the -good pastor, pressing her hand, and mistaking the transient glow of -pleasure for the permanent bloom of health. - -“I am quite well, thank you, dear Mr. Wellworth! and you?” - -“Always well, my child, thank Heaven.” - -“And dearest Grace? I have not seen her so long.” - -“Ah! she has even too good health, if possible! it makes her wild. We -have to keep her at home to tame her.” - -“But see--I am housekeeping here to myself, almost. My dear father -has placed my maintenance upon the most lavish footing, and Mrs. -Houston has given to his requests in regard to me the most liberal -interpretation. See! I have, like a little princess, an establishment -of my own. This wing of the house, a maid and messenger, a boat and -horse; and my dear father has even written to have the carriage brought -from the island for my use, so that I may be able to visit or send for -my friends at pleasure,” said Margaret, with a transient feeling of -girlish delight in her independence. - -“Yes, my child, I see; and I know that, in addition to this, you have -an ample income. These are all great and unusual privileges for a young -girl like yourself, not past childhood,” said Mr. Wellworth, very -gravely. - -“Oh! I know they are. I know, too, that these favors are lavished upon -me in compassion for--to console me for--as if anything could make me -cease to regret----” Here faltering, and finding herself on the verge -of tears, Margaret paused, made an effort, controlled herself and -resumed: “It is done in kindness toward her child; and I accept it all -in the same spirit.” - -“It is accorded in consideration of your grave and important position, -my dear girl--do you never think of it? Young as you are, you are the -affianced wife of the heir of this house.” - -Again a transient flush of bashful joy chased the melancholy from -Margaret’s face. Blushing, she dropped her eyes and remained silent. - -“You think sometimes of your position, Margaret?” asked the clergyman, -who, for his purpose, wished to lead and fix her mind upon this -subject--“you remember sometimes that you are Ralph Houston’s promised -wife?” - -For an instant she lifted her dark eyelashes, darting one swift, shy, -but most eloquent glance deep into his face, then, dropping them, -crimsoned even to the edges of her black hair, and still continued -silent. - -“Ah! I see you do. I see you do. But do you know my dear, that -something of the same discreet exclusiveness, reserve, circumspection, -is demanded of a betrothed maiden as of a wife?” inquired the -clergyman, solemnly. - -Again her beautiful dark eyes were raised, in that quick, and -quickly-withdrawn, penetrating, earnest, fervid, impassioned glance, -that said, more eloquently than words would have spoken, “All that you -demand for him, and more, a millionfold, will my own heart, daily, -hourly yield!” and then the blush deepened on her cheek, and she -remained dumb. - -“She, the promised wife, I mean, must not hold free conversation with -gentlemen who are not her own near relatives; she must not correspond -with them--she must not, in a word, do many things, which, though -they might be perfectly innocent in a disengaged woman, would be very -reprehensible in a betrothed maiden.” - -Margaret’s color visibly fluctuated--her bosom perceptibly fluttered. - -“Well, Margaret, what do you think of that which I have been telling -you?” - -“Oh! I know--I know you speak truly. I hope I know my duty and love -to do it,” she said, in an agitated, confused manner; “but let us -talk of something else, dear Mr. Wellworth. Let us talk of my little, -independent establishment here. When I spoke of the pleasant nature of -my surroundings, it was to win your consent that dear Grace might come -and be my guest for a week. She would be such a sweet comfort to me, -and I could make her so happy here! If you will consent, I will send -Forrest with the carriage for her to-morrow. Say, will you, dear Mr. -Wellworth?” - -“Perhaps; we will talk about that by and by. Margaret,” he said, -suddenly lowering his voice, “dismiss your woman, I wish to speak alone -with you, my child.” - -“Hildreth, go, but remain in sound of my bell,” said Miss Helmstedt. - -As soon as Hildreth had left the room, Mr. Wellworth drew his chair -beside the low seat of Margaret, took her hand, and would have held it -while he spoke, but that she, who always shrank even from the fatherly -familiarity of her pastor, very gently withdrew it, and respectfully -inquired: - -“What was it you wished to say to me, dear Mr. Wellworth?” - -“A very serious matter, my dear child. Margaret, I have no art in -circumnavigating a subject. I have been trying to approach gradually -the subject of my visit to you this morning, and I have not succeeded. -I am no nearer than when I first entered. I know not how to ‘break’ bad -news----” - -“In a word, sir, has misfortune happened to any of my friends?” -inquired Margaret, with a pale cheek, but with a strange, calm voice. - -“No; that were more easily told than what I have to tell,” said the -minister, solemnly. - -“Please go on then, sir, and let me know the worst at once.” - -“Then, my dear Margaret, I have been informed that you, a betrothed -wife, have an intimate male correspondent, who is neither your father -nor your affianced husband, and whose name and character, and relations -with yourself, you decline to divulge?” - -Margaret grew ashen pale, clasped her hands, compressed her lips, and -remained silent. - -“What have you to say to this charge, Margaret?” - -There was a pause, while Mr. Wellworth gazed upon the maiden’s -steadfast, thoughtful face. She reasoned with herself; she struggled -with herself. It occurred to her to say, “My correspondent is a -gray-haired man, whom I have never set eyes upon.” But immediately, -she reflected. “No, this may put suspicion upon the true scent; I must -say nothing.” - -“Well, Margaret, what have you to answer to this charge?” - -“Nothing, sir.” - -“Nothing?” - -“Nothing.” - -“You admit it, then?” - -“I neither admit nor deny it!” - -“Margaret, this will never do. Are you aware that you seriously -imperil, nay, more, that you gravely compromise your good name?” - -Her pale cheek grew paler than before, the tightly-clasped fingers -trembled, the compressed lips sprang quivering apart, and then closed -more firmly than ever. It had occurred to her to say: “But this -correspondence is solely a business affair, with one of whom I have no -personal knowledge whatever.” But then came the reflection: “If I give -them this explanation, this ever so slight clue, these worldly-wise -people will follow it up until they unravel the whole mystery, and I -shall have proved myself a cowardly traitor to her confidence. No, I -must be dumb before my accusers!” - -“You do not speak, Margaret.” - -“I have nothing to say, sir!” - -“Ah, dear Heaven! I see that I must not ‘prophesy smooth things’ to -you, my girl. I must not spare the truth! Listen, then, Miss Helmstedt: -Your name has become a byword in the village shops! What now will you -do?” - -It was on her pallid lips to say: “I will trust in God;” but she -said it only in her heart, adding: “I must not even insist upon my -innocence; for if they believe me, they will be forced to find the -right track to this scent.” - -“Margaret Helmstedt, why do you not answer me?” - -“Because, sir, I have nothing to say.” - -“Nothing to say?” - -“Nothing--nothing to say!” - -“Listen to me, then. You seem to have some regard for your betrothed -husband. You seem even to understand the duty you owe him! Think, I beg -you, what must be the feelings of a proud and honorable man like Ralph -Houston, on returning to this neighborhood and finding the name and -fame of his affianced bride lightly canvassed?” - -It was piteous to see how dark with woe her face became. Her hands were -clenched until it seemed as though the blood must start from her finger -nails; but not one word escaped her painfully-compressed lips. - -“I ask you, Miss Helmstedt, when Ralph Houston returns to this -neighborhood and hears what I and others have heard--what do you -suppose he will do?” - -“He will do his own good pleasure; and I--I shall submit,” said the -maiden, meekly bowing her head. - -But then in an instant--even as though she had heard Ralph’s voice in -her ear--there was a change. Her beautiful head was raised, her color -flushed brightly back, her dark eyes kindled, flashed, and she replied: - -“He may hear, as you and others do, incredible things said of me; but -he will not, as you and others do, believe them! And I only dread to -think what his reply would be to any who should, in his presence, speak -with levity of any woman he respects.” - -“Margaret, pause--bethink you! this is no idle gossip! It is slander, -do you hear? It is the venomed serpent slander that has fixed its fangs -upon your maiden name. I believe, of course, unjustly! but nothing -except an open explanation will enable your friends to exculpate you -and silence your calumniators. Will you not give them such a weapon?” - -“I cannot,” she breathed, in a low tone of returning despair. - -“Reflect, girl. Ralph Houston, when he arrives, will surely hear these -reports; for, in the country, nothing is forgotten. He may stand by -you--I doubt not with his unfunded faith and chivalrous generosity -that he will; but--will you, loving and honoring him, as I am sure you -do, will you, with a blemished name, give your hand to him, a man of -stainless honor?” - -“No, no! oh, never, no!” came like a wail of woe from her lips, as her -head sank down upon her bosom. - -“Then, Margaret, give your friends the right to explain and clear your -conduct.” - -She was incapable of reply, and so remained silent. - -“You will not?” - -She mournfully shook her head. - -“Good-by, Margaret; God give you a better spirit. I must leave you -now,” said the old pastor. And he arose, laid his hand in silent -prayer upon the stricken young head bent beneath him, then took up his -broad-brimmed hat and quietly left the room. - -As he came out, Mrs. Houston opened the front parlor door and invited -him in there. - -“Well, sir, what success?” she inquired, anxiously, as soon as they -were both seated. - -The good old man slowly shook his head. - -“None whatever, madam.” - -“She still refuses to explain?” - -“Ah, yes, madam!” - -“In fact, it is just what I expected. I am not surprised. There never -was such contumacious obstinacy. Dear me, what shall I do? What would -you advise me to do?” - -“Be patient, Mrs. Houston; and, above all things, avoid betraying -to any others out of your own immediate family the anxiety that you -reveal to me. ‘It is written that a man’s foes shall be those of his -own household.’ Unnatural and horrible as it sounds, every one who has -lived, observed and reflected to any purpose, must have discovered that -still more frequently a woman’s foes are of such.” - -“Really and truly, Mr. Wellworth, that is a very strange speech of -yours. I hope you do not suppose that any one in this house is the -enemy of Margaret Helmstedt?” - -“Assuredly not. I merely wished to entreat that you will not again -speak of this correspondence in the village post office.” - -“But dear me, what then am I to do?” - -“Leave matters just where they are for the present. There is nothing -wrong in this, farther than that it has unfortunately been made the -occasion of gossip; therefore, of course it must be perfectly cleared -up for Margaret’s own sake. But our interference at present evidently -will not tend to precipitate a satisfactory denouement.” - -“Oh, how I wish her father or Ralph were home. I have a great mind to -write to them!” exclaimed Nellie, who certainly was governed by an -unconscious attraction toward mischief-making. - -“My good lady, do nothing of the sort; it would be both useless and -harmful.” - -“What, then, shall I do?” questioned Nellie, impatiently. - -“Consult your husband.” - -“Consult Colonel Houston! You certainly can’t know Colonel Houston. -Why, well as he likes me, he would--bite my head off if I came to him -with any tale of scandal,” said Nellie, querulously. - -“Then leave the matter to me for the present,” said the minister, -rising and taking his leave. - -Meanwhile, Margaret Helmstedt had remained where the pastor had left -her, with clenched hands and sunken head in the same attitude of fixed -despair. Then, suddenly rising, with a low, long wail of woe, she -threw herself on her knees before her mother’s portrait, and raising -both arms with open hands, as though offering up some oblation to that -image, she cried: - -“Oh, mother! mother! here is the first gift, a spotless name! freely -renounced for thy sake! freely offered up to thee! Only look on me! -love me, my mother! for I have loved thee more than all things--even -than him, mother mine!” - -Mrs. Houston, in her excited state of feeling, could not keep quiet. -Even at the risk of being “flouted” or ridiculed, she went into the -colonel’s little study, which was the small room in the second story -immediately over the front entrance, and sitting down beside him, -solemnly entered upon the all-engrossing subject of her thoughts. -The colonel listened, going through the successive stages of being -surprised, amused and bored, and finally, when she ceased and waited -for his comments, he just went on tickling his ear with the feathered -end of his pen and smiled in silence. - -“Now, then, colonel, what do you think of all this?” - -“Why, that it must be all perfectly correct, my dear, and need not give -you the slightest uneasiness. That our fair little daughter-in-law -regularly writes and receives letters from a certain person, is of -course a sufficient proof of the correctness of both correspondence and -correspondent,” said the colonel, gallantly. - -“All that may be very true, and at the same time very indiscreet--think -of what they say.” - -“Tah--tah, my love! never mind ‘they say!’ the only practical part of -it is, that in the absence of Ralph, if I should happen to meet with -‘they say’ in man’s form, I shall be at the trouble of chastising him, -that’s all!” - -“Now, colonel! of all things, I do hope that you will not, at your age, -do anything rash.” - -“Then, my pretty one, pray do not trouble me or yourself, and far less -little Margaret, with this ridiculous wickedness,” he said, drawing her -head down to give her a parting kiss, and then good-humoredly putting -her out of the study. - -Colonel Houston, in his contempt of gossip, had unhappily treated the -subject with more levity than it deserved. In such a neighborhood as -this of which I write, calumny is not to be despised or lived down--it -must be met and strangled; or it will be pampered and cherished until -it grows a very “fire-mouthed dragon, horrible and bright.” - -In such a place events and sensations do not rapidly succeed each -other, and a choice piece of scandal is long “rolled as a sweet morsel -under the tongue.” Margaret either ceased to write obnoxious letters, -or else she changed her post office, but that circumstance did not -change the subject of village gossip--it only furnished a new cause of -conjecture. And this continued until near Christmas, when Frank Houston -was expected home to spend the holidays, and a large party was invited -to dinner and for the evening to meet him. - -Frank arrived on Christmas eve, at night. He involuntarily betrayed -some little agitation on first meeting Margaret; his emotion, slight -as it was, and soon as it was conquered, was perceived by his fond -stepmother, upon whom it produced the effect of reviving all her -former feelings of suspicion and resentment toward Margaret, for -having, as she supposed, trifled with his affections, and abandoned -him in favor of his elder brother. And this resuscitated hostility was -unconsciously increased by Frank, who, being alone with his stepmother -later in the evening, said with a rueful attempt at smiling: - -“So Ralph and my little Margo--mine no longer! are to be married. Well, -when I went away I charged him with the care of my little love; and he -has taken excellent care of her, that is all.” - -“You have been treated villainously, Franky! villainously, my poor -boy! And I am grieved to death to think I had anything to do with it! -only--what could I do at such a time as that, when her mother, my poor, -dear, Marguerite, was dying?” said Nellie, half crying from the mixed -motives of revived grief for the loss of her friend, and indignation at -what she persisted in regarding as the wrongs of her favorite stepson. - -“However, Franky, dear, I can tell you, if that will be any comfort to -you, that I don’t think you have lost a treasure in Margaret, for I -doubt if she will be any more faithful to Ralph than she has been to -you!” - -“Fair little mamma, that is not generous or even just!” said Frank, -in a tone of rebuke, tempered by affectionate playfulness. “Don’t -let’s imitate the philosophical fox in the fable, nor call sour these -most luscious of grapes hung far above my reach. Margaret owed me no -faith. My aspiration gave me no claim upon her consideration. She is -a noble girl, and ‘blistered be my tongue’ if ever it say otherwise. -Henceforth, for me, she is my brother’s wife, no more, nor less,” said -the young man, swallowing the sob that had risen in his throat and -nearly choked him. - -“Oh, my dear Franky! my very heart bleeds for you,” said Nellie, with -the tears streaming down her face; for if the little lady had one deep, -sincere affection in the world, it was for her “pretty boy,” as, to the -young man’s ludicrous annoyance, she still called him. - -But Frank wiped her tears away and kissed her. And the next moment -Nellie was talking gayly of the party she had invited to do honor to -his return home. - -This festival fixed for Christmas was intended to come off the next -afternoon. There was to be a dinner followed by an evening party. -As the family were still in mourning for Mrs. Helmstedt, dancing -was prohibited; but the evening was laid off to be employed in -tea-drinking, parlor games, cards, and conversation. - -Mrs. Houston, as far as the contradictory nature of her sentiments -would permit, took some pride in the beauty, wealth, and social -importance of her “daughter” Margaret; and experienced quite a -fashionable, mamma-like solicitude for her favorable appearance upon -the evening in question. Therefore, without ever having had any -altercation with the pensive and unwilling girl upon the subject of her -toilet, Nellie, on the morning of Christmas day, entered Margaret’s -little boudoir, accompanied by Jessie Bell, bringing a packet. - -Margaret, who sat by the fire quietly reading, looked up, smiled, and -invited her visitor to be seated. - -“I have not time to sit down, Maggie; all those cakes are to be frosted -yet; the jellies are waiting to be poured into the moulds; the cream -has yet to be seasoned and put in the freezers; flowers cut in the -greenhouse for the vases; and I know not what else besides. Here, -Christmas Day, of all days in the year, that I should be working harder -than any slave,” said the little lady. - -“I had no idea that you were so busy. Pray let me and Hildreth assist -you. We are both skillful, you know. Please always let me know when -I or my servants can be of any use to you, Mrs. Houston,” said Miss -Helmstedt, laying aside her book and rising. - -“Nonsense, my dear, I don’t really need your services or I should call -upon you. I came in to bring you a Christmas gift. Your foolish little -mother-in-law, whom you refuse to call ‘mamma,’ has not forgotten you. -Jessie, open that box.” - -The waiting-maid obeyed, and drew from it a rich black velvet evening -dress, made with a low corsage and short sleeves, and both neck and -sleevelets trimmed with point lace. - -“There! there is your dress for this evening, my dear. How do you like -it?” asked the little lady, holding up the dress in triumph. - -“It is very beautiful, and I am very grateful to you, Mrs. Houston.” - -“‘Mrs. Houston!’ There it is again! You will not say ‘mamma.’ -By-and-by, I suppose, you will expect me also to say ‘Mrs. Houston,’ -and we, a mother and daughter-in-law, shall be formally ‘Mrs. -Houston-ing’ each other. Well, let that pass--‘sufficient unto the -day,’ etc. Now, about this dress. You do not, after all, look as if -you half liked it? It is true, I know, that velvet is rather matronly -to wear for a girl of fifteen; but then, when one is in mourning, the -choice of material is not very extensive; and besides, for Christmas, -velvet may not be very much out of place, even on a young person. But I -am sorry you don’t like it,” concluded Nellie, regretfully dropping the -dress that she had been holding up to exhibition. - -“Oh, I do like it, very much, indeed. I should be very tasteless not to -like it, and very thankless not to feel your kindness. The dress is as -beautiful as can be--only too fine for me,” said Margaret. - -“Not the least so, my dear girl. Consider,” replied the little lady, -launching out into a strain of good-humored compliment upon her -“daughter’s” face and figure, riches, position, prospects, etc. - -Margaret arrested the flow of flattery by quietly and gratefully -accepting the dress. She would have preferred to wear, even upon -the coming festive evening, the nunlike black bombazine, that, ever -since her mother’s death, had been her costume. But, in very truth, -her mind was now too heavily oppressed with a private and unshared -responsibility, to admit of her giving much thought to the subject of -her toilet. Her neatness was habitual, mechanical; beyond the necessity -of being neat, dress was to her a matter of indifference. - -Nellie next took out a small morocco case. - -“And here,” she said, “is Colonel Houston’s Christmas offering to his -little daughter-in-law.” - -Margaret opened the casket, and found a beautiful necklace and bracelet -of jet, set in gold. - -“I will wear them to-night, and thank the kind donor in person,” said -Miss Helmstedt, putting it beside her book on the stand. - -Mrs. Houston then bustled out of the room, leaving the young girl to -her coveted quiet. - -Late in the afternoon, the Christmas party began to assemble--a mixed -company of about forty individuals, comprising old, middle-aged, -and young persons of both sexes. The evening was spent, according -to programme, in tea-drinking, parlor games, tableaux, cards and -conversation, _i. e._, gossip, _i. e._, scandal. - -Among all the gayly attired young persons present Margaret Helmstedt, -in her mourning-dress, with her black hair plainly braided around her -fair, broad forehead, was pronounced not only the most beautiful, -but by far the most interesting; her beauty, her orphanage, her -heiress-ship, her extreme youth, and her singular position as a -betrothed bride in the house of her father-in-law, all invested with a -prestige of strange interest this fair young creature. - -But, ah! her very pre-eminence among her companions, instigated the -envious to seize upon, and use against her, any circumstance that might -be turned to her disadvantage. Whispers went around. Sidelong glances -were cast upon her. - -As a daughter of the house, she shook off her melancholy -pre-occupation, and exerted herself to entertain the visitors. - -But matrons, whose daughters she had thrown into the shade, could not -forgive her for being “talked of,” and received all her hospitable -attentions with coldness. And the maidens who had been thus -overshadowed took their revenge in curling their lips and tossing their -heads, as she passed or smiled upon them. - -Now Margaret Helmstedt was neither insensible, cold, nor dull; on the -contrary, she was intelligent to perceive, sensitive to feel, and -reflective to refer this persecution back to its cause. And though no -one could have judged from her appearance how much she suffered under -the infliction; for, through all the trying evening, she exhibited the -same quiet courtesy and ladylike demeanour; the iron entered her soul. - -Only when the festival was over, the guests departed, the lights put -out, and she found herself at liberty to seek the privacy of her own -chamber, she dropped exhausted beside her bed, and burying her face in -the coverlid, sighed forth: - -“Oh, mother! mother! Oh, mother! mother!” - -The Christmas party had the effect of giving zest and impetus to the -village gossip, of which Margaret was the favorite theme. It was -scarcely in fallen human nature to have seen a girl of fifteen so -exalted beyond what was considered common and proper to one of her age, -and not to recollect and repeat all that could justly or unjustly be -said to her disadvantage. - -This newly-augmented slander resulted in an event very humiliating to -the family at the Bluff. - -Near the end of the Christmas holidays, Frank happened to be in the -village upon some unimportant business. While loitering near a group -of young men in one of the shops, he started on hearing the name of -Margaret Helmstedt coupled with a light laugh. Frank’s eyes flashed as -he advanced toward the group. He listened for a moment, to ascertain -which of their number had thus taken the name of Miss Helmstedt upon -irreverent lips; and when the culprit discovered himself, by again -opening his mouth upon the same forbidden theme, without another word -spoken on any side, Frank silently and coolly walked up, collared, and -drew him struggling out from the group, and using the riding wand he -held in his hand, proceeded to inflict upon him summary chastisement. -When he considered the young man sufficiently punished, he spurned him -away, threw his own card in the midst of the group, inviting whomsoever -should list to take it up (with the quarrel), mounted his horse and -rode home. - -He said nothing of what had occurred to any member of the family. - -But about the middle of the afternoon, he received a visit from the -deputy sheriff of the county, who bore a pressing invitation from a -justice of the peace, that “Franklin Pembroke Houston, of said county,” -should appear before him to answer certain charges. - -“Why, what is this?” inquired Colonel Houston, who was present when the -warrant was served. - -“Oh, nothing, nothing; only I heard a certain Craven Jenkins taking -a lady’s name in vain, and gave him a lesson on reverence; and now, -I suppose, I shall have to pay for the luxury, that is all,” replied -Frank. And then, being further pressed, he explained the whole matter -to his father. - -“You did well, my boy, and just what I should have done in your place. -Come! we will go to the village and settle up for this matter,” said -the colonel, as he prepared to accompany his son. - -The affair ended, with Frank, in his being fined one hundred dollars, -which he declared to be cheap for the good done. - -But not so unimportant was the result to the hapless girl, whom every -event, whether festive or otherwise, seemed to plunge more deeply into -trouble. - -When, after New Year, Franky went away, Mrs. Houston accompanied -him to Belleview, whence he took the packet. And after parting with -him, on her return through the village, she chanced to hear, for the -first time, the affair of the horsewhipping, for which her Franky had -been fined. Upon inquiry, she further learned the occasion of that -chastisement. And her indignation against Margaret, as the cause, knew -no bounds. - -Happily, it was a long, cold ride back to the Bluff, and the sedative -effect of time and frost had somewhat lowered the temperature of little -Mrs. Houston’s blood before she reached home. - -Nevertheless, she went straight to Margaret’s sanctum, and laying off -her bonnet there, reproached her bitterly. - -Margaret bore this injustice with “a great patience.” That had, -however, but little power to disarm the lady, whose resentment -continued for weeks. - -Drearily passed the time to the hapless girl--the long desolate months -brightened by the rare days when she would receive a visit from one of -her two friends, Grace or Clare, or else get letters from her father or -Ralph Houston. - -Toward the spring, the news from camp held out the prospect of Mr. -Houston’s possible return home. And to Ralph’s arrival poor Margaret -looked forward with more of dread than hope. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. THE DAUGHTER’S FIDELITY. - - - “Still through each change of fortune strange, - Racked nerve and brain all burning, - Her loving faith to given trust - Knew never shade of turning.” - -More than fifteen months have elapsed since the close of the last -chapter--months, replete with the destiny of nations as of individuals. -First, the prospects of peace through the mediation of the Emperor -of Russia, or by any other means, seemed indefinitely postponed. The -desired return of the long-absent soldiers to their homes, was a -distant and doubtful hope. The war continued to be prosecuted on both -sides with unremitting animosity. - -Cockburn was on the Chesapeake. Now I know not whether history has -softened, or tradition exaggerated the fierceness, rapacity, and -cruelty of this licensed pirate and his crew. History tells of quiet -farmsteads razed to the ground and peaceful villages burned to ashes. -Tradition speaks of individual instances of monstrous atrocity, that -resulted in the madness or death of the innocent victim. But whatever -may stand recorded in history, or be believed in distant regions, -concerning the conduct of the British fleet in the Chesapeake--here on -the scene of action, here along the shores and among the isles of the -Bay, the memory of Rear Admiral Cockburn and his crew, is, justly or -unjustly, loaded with almost preternatural abhorrence. - -The villages of Havre de Grace, Frenchtown, Fredericktown, Georgetown -and Hampton, and other unguarded hamlets, whose natural protectors were -absent at the distant theatres of the war, were successively assaulted, -sacked and burned, while their helpless inhabitants, consisting of old -men, women and children, were put to the sword, hunted away or carried -off. The massacre on Craney Island, with all its concomitant horrors -of debauchery, madness and violence, had carried consternation into -every heart. Marauding parties were frequently landed to lay waste -defenceless farmsteads, whose masters were absent on the Northern -frontier. - -Still, as yet, nothing had occurred to alarm, for themselves, our -friends in the neighborhood of Helmstedt’s Island. The sail of the -enemy had been more than once seen in the distance, but not even a -single foraging party had landed to lay them under tribute. Thus it -was considered quite safe by the neighbors to vary the monotony of -their lives by forming a picnic party for Helmstedt’s Island. The -company consisted of the Houstons, the Wellworths, the Hartleys, and -others. The time appointed for the festival was the first of August. -The day proved cool for the season, and consequently pleasant for the -occasion. The Wellworths came down to the bluff to join the Houstons, -with whom, at sunrise, they set out for the island, where they were met -by the Hartleys and other friends, and regaled by a sumptuous seaside -breakfast, previously prepared to order by the island housekeeper, -Aunt Hapzibah. After that repast, the company separated into groups, -according to their “attractions.” Of the elder portion, some formed -quiet whist parties in the drawing-room, and others sat down for a cozy -gossip on the vine-shaded piazza. Of the younger party, some entered -boats and went crabbing, while others formed quadrilles and danced to -the sound of the tambourine, the fiddle, and the banjo, wielded with -enthusiasm by the hands and arms of three ecstatic sable musicians. -Margaret Helmstedt and her chosen friends, Grace Wellworth and Clare -Hartley, separated themselves from the company, and with their arms -affectionately intertwined around each other’s waists, wandered down to -the beach with the purpose of making the whole circuit of her beloved -island. Margaret has changed and matured in these fifteen months. She -has become very beautiful, very much like what her mother had been, but -with a profounder and more mournful style, “a beauty that makes sad the -eye.” Time, experience and sorrow have prematurely done their work upon -her. She, but sixteen years of age, looks much older. She is dressed -quite plainly, in a gown of black gauze striped with black satin, a -fine lace inside handkerchief and cuffs, white kid gloves and black -morocco gaiters. Her jet-black hair is parted over her broad brow, and -rippling in a myriad of shining wavelets that would, if permitted, fall -in a cloud of ringlets around her sweet, pale face, and throw into -deeper shade the shadowy, mournful eyes. The white chip hat, plainly -trimmed with white ribbons, hangs idly from her arm. Within the last -year Margaret’s position has not improved. It is true that the subject -of the letters and the unknown correspondent or lover has been suffered -to die out. Not even country gossips can, without new materials, keep -a vague scandal alive year after year. And no such stimuli had been -afforded them. Margaret, whether she had ceased to write, or had taken -a more effectual manner of concealing her correspondence, seemed -neither to receive nor send any more mysterious letters. But she had -not regained, nor even sought to regain, the confidence, esteem, and -affection of her family. An atmosphere of distrust, coldness, and -reserve, surrounded, chilled, and depressed her spirit, yet could not -destroy the deep enthusiasm of some hidden devotion that inspired her -soul, and gave to her beautiful, pale face, the air of rapt religious -enthusiasm seen on the pictured brows of saints and angels. Even now, -upon this festive occasion, as she walks between her friends, the same -deep, serious, earnest fervor glows under the surface of her eloquent -countenance. They were imparting to her, as girls will, their girlish -mysteries, and inviting her to a similar confidence. But Margaret -was pre-occupied and abstracted, and though her replies were always -affectionate, they were not always to the point. - -At last the brown-eyed and gentle little Grace ventured to say: - -“I tell you what, Margaret, it is said that there are two sorts of -people in this world--those who love, and those who permit themselves -to be loved. If so, then you belong to the latter class.” - -“Why do you think so, dear Grace?” - -“Why?--here my arm has been around your waist, and it might better have -been around the stem of an oak sapling! that at least would have nodded -over me a little; but you, you walk on erect, silent, thoughtful, and -when I speak to you of the flowers along our path, you speak of the -clouds over our heads, or make an equally applicable response to my -observation, which shows how much attention you pay to what I say.” - -“I beg your pardon, dear Grace.” - -“Of course you do, and of course I grant it, which will not prevent -your offending in the same way the very next minute.” - -“Cease, chatterbox!” exclaimed Clare Hartley. “Remember that Miss -Helmstedt has other subjects to occupy her mind to the exclusion of -your mature ideas. She is engaged, you know. Her affianced is far away. -Like that other ‘Margaret, who in Lithgow’s bower, all lonely sat and -wept the weary hour,’ she may be thinking of:-- - - “‘The war against her native soil - Her lover’s risk in battle broil.’ - -“Though after all, since they seem to be so quiet up there, I shouldn’t -wonder if she is only thinking of household linens, with a view to -housekeeping. Let the ‘plenishing’ be on the most liberal scale, -Margaret, for I and Grace intend to spend a great deal of time with you -after you are married.” - -“And we are to be your bridesmaids, of course, are we not, dear -Margaret?” - -“Dear Grace, pray do not speak of any future event with such -presumptuous assurance. My marriage may never take place,” replied -Margaret, with a mournful earnestness that she did not attempt to -conceal or modify. - -“Your marriage may never take place!” exclaimed both her companions, in -consternation. - -“I mean that life is full of vicissitudes; one or the other of us may -die.” - -“How gravely you speak! You are certainly the daughter of Heraclitus, -the crying philosopher. Why, Margaret----” - -She was interrupted by a piercing shriek from Grace Wellworth, who, -breaking suddenly from her companions, ran like Atalanta up toward the -inland of the island. They looked up to ascertain the cause. With wild -eyes and blanched faces they recognized the occasion of her terror and -flight. Three boats had been silently pushed up on the sands a few -yards below them, and were now discharging their crews, consisting -of about twelve or more from each boat, or from thirty-five to forty -British soldiers in all. One of these men had instantly perceived the -flight of Grace, and moved by the mere animal instinct to pursue the -flying, as the hound pursues the running hare, had cried out: - -“Atalanta! Atalanta! By George, when a girl flies she invites pursuit,” -and ran after her. - -“For the love of Heaven, let us not follow her example. Let us stand -our ground. Let us speak to the commanding officer, and we will save -ourselves and her from farther aggression,” said Margaret, looking very -firm, and not a shade paler than usual. Clare drew herself up with -dignity and remained standing beside her friend. - -The pursuer of Grace had now overtaken, caught and lifted the terrified -and struggling girl, and laughing gayly the while, was bearing her back -to the scene. No more dangerous spirit than that of wild fun and frolic -seemed to inspire the merry captor. - -“Release me! Release me, I command you, villain!” cried Grace, wild -with indignation and fear, and struggling desperately to free herself. - -“Ha! ha! ha! the little brown partridge! how fierce and strong, and -spiteful it is! How it flutters and flaps, and beats!” exclaimed the -soldier, holding his captive tighter. - -“Let me go! Let me go, I say, poltroon!” cried the girl, wrestling -madly with her captor. - -“Kingdom come! what a wild bird it is!” exclaimed the latter, squeezing -his prize maliciously. - -“Put me down! Put me down, I order you, marauder! coward! brute!” -resumed Grace, now maddened with rage and terror. - -“George! What! It is not a wild partridge, but a young hawk that I’ve -caught! What claws and beak it has! how it bites, and tears, and -scratches! I must look out for my face, or, by George! the best-looking -soldier in his majesty’s service will be ruined!” - -“You a soldier! Poltroon! Coward!” - -“Whe-ew! the little creature can call hard names, too. Well, come! -one kiss for a cheap ransom, and I let you go! What! Not one kiss? -Very well; what is not freely yielded must be boldly rifled! What the -deuce----” And despite her frenzied struggles the “ransom” was seized, -and Grace, furious at the indignity, was set upon her feet. - -“For shame, ensign! How dare you? Go directly and ask the young lady’s -pardon,” said the commanding officer, who had just that instant reached -the scene. - -The delinquent addressed touched his hat to his superior officer and -said: - -“I beg yours, lieutenant. If the bird had not flown, the falcon would -not have flown!” and repeating the gesture of subordination, he turned -to obey. Going up and standing before Grace, who gave him a furious -look, he took off his cap, revealing a very finely turned head, bowed -profoundly, and said: - -“Young lady, Ensign Dawson humbly begs your pardon; and all the more -humbly, because, poor wretch! he cannot repent! nor even--hardened -sinner that he is--promise never to do so again. For if ever the -opportunity should offer, son of perdition that you know him to be! he -would be sure to repeat the offense. Under such unpromising prospects, -you will deign to stretch out the sceptre of grace, whose touch is -pardon to the poor devil--William Dawson?” - -“‘William Dawson.’” The words were echoed by a low, thrilling, -impassioned voice, that did not come from Grace, whose lovely -countenance, as she listened to the ensign’s apology, underwent -the most ludicrous series of phases; rage, curiosity, admiration, -pride--all struggled for the supremacy a moment, and then, shocked -at detecting in herself the slightest indication of relenting toward -such unpardonable and atrocious impudence, she turned and walked away -in haughty silence. Lieutenant King stepped after her to offer a more -suitable apology. At the same instant Clare Hartley left the side of -her friend, and went to soothe her. - -And thus Margaret Helmstedt and the young ensign were left alone, -standing a few yards apart. - -He stood watching with laughing eyes the retreating form of Grace. - -But Margaret’s face was a study. Her thrilling, passionate voice it -was that had echoed his name at the instant of hearing it. When that -name first struck her ear, she had started and clutched her breast with -both hands, as one who had received a shot in the heart. And, since -that moment, she had been standing transfixed, white and still, with -burning gaze fixed upon the young soldier. Presently her steadfast gaze -attracted the attention of the man, who raised his eyes to hers. The -meeting of those mutual glances did not dissolve, but changed the spell -under which she labored. - -She moved, stretched out her arm, and without withdrawing her gaze, -like a somnambulist or a mesmerized subject, as if irresistibly drawn -on, in measured steps, with fixed eyes and extended arm, she walked -toward him, laid her hand firmly upon his breast, and gazed wistfully -into his face. - -The young soldier laughed, drew himself up, threw out his chest, folded -his arms, lifted his head, and so seemed defiantly to offer himself for -criticism. And in truth he had no just reason to avoid inspection. He -was very possibly just what he had laughingly described himself--the -handsomest man in his majesty’s service. He was one of the finest -specimens of the Anglo Saxon race--in form somewhat above the medium -height--broad-shouldered, deep-chested, round-limbed, with a full face, -fair, roseate complexion, flaxen hair, merry blue eyes, straight nose, -finely curved, red and smiling lips, white teeth, and an expression of -countenance replete with blended frankness, firmness, and good-humor. - -But no recognition of his manly beauty was in the steadfast, profound, -and serious gaze with which Margaret--her hand still laid upon his -breast--regarded him. - -“William Dawson. Your name is William Dawson?” she said, speaking low -and slowly. - -“Yes, fair one! William Dawson, hitherto ensign in his majesty’s ---- -company of ----, but henceforth your liege subject!” replied the young -soldier, laughingly though in great surprise. - -“William Dawson,” she repeated, without removing her eyes. - -“You have said it, lovely lady.” - -“William Dawson,” she reiterated, as it were, unconsciously. - -“At your service, beautiful Virginian! What can I do to prove my -devotion? Blow up the Albion? desert my colors! swear allegiance to -that warlike hero, President Madison? or, I have it! cut off Rear -Admiral Cockburn’s ears? for I think he is the favorite antipathy -of your charming countrywomen! Tell me what unheard-of audacity I -shall perpetrate to prove my devotion, and above all things, tell the -worshiped name of her for whom I am pledging myself to do anything and -everything!” said the young soldier, in the same tone of gay, but not -disrespectful, raillery. - -“I am Margaret Helmstedt,” she replied, in a low and thrilling voice. - -“Great Heaven!” - -It was all he said. And there fell a pause and deep silence between -them for some intense and vital moments, during which they gazed with -unutterable emotions upon each other’s face and form. She could not -have been whiter than she had been from the first, so she remained -without color and without voluntary motion, but shaken upon her feet -as a statue by an earthquake. He at length grew as pale as she was, -shuddered through all his frame, seized her hand, drew her closer, as -one having authority, held her firmly while he fixed upon her blanched -face a gaze as earnest, as searching, as thrilling as her own had been. - -He broke the silence. - -“Margaret Helmstedt! Margaret Helmstedt! I see you then at last! And -now that I gaze upon your face--how like, great Heaven! to hers. -Come--come! You must go with me. You must inform me of that which you -alone have power to communicate. You must confirm to me that fact which -I suspect, but do not know; or, rather, which I know, but cannot prove. -Come, Margaret Helmstedt, come;” and, closing his hand cruelly upon -hers, he drew her, blanched and unresisting, after him, into the covert -of the wood, where they were quickly hidden. - -There had been unsuspected witnesses to this strange scene. So -absorbed in their mutual subject of interest had been the maiden and -the soldier, that they had not perceived that the trio, consisting of -Lieutenant King, Clare Hartley, and Grace Wellworth, who were going -up toward the house, had been met by another party, consisting of -Mrs. Compton, Mrs. Houston, and Parson Wellworth, who were coming down -toward the beach, and that a pause and a parley was the consequence. -Nellie Houston, who was at the same time a furious patriot and a -fearful poltroon, on seeing the hated and dreaded “redcoat,” had -clenched her fist, and frowned defiance, even while she paled and -trembled with terror. Mrs. Compton had remained composed. She had been -an old campaigner of the long revolutionary struggle, and was not -easily disconcerted by the sight of the British uniform. The old parson -had put on his spectacles and taken sight. Seeing that the officer, -cap in hand, walked quietly and inoffensively on, between the two -girls, neither of whom betrayed the least uneasiness, he turned to the -frightened and belligerent Nellie, and said: “Do not be alarmed, madam; -he is an officer and a gentleman, and will, no doubt, conduct himself -as such, and compel his men to the manners of men.” - -And the next moment, when they met, the officer made good the words of -the preacher. Bowing profoundly, he explained that his party had landed -on the island for the purpose of procuring a supply of fresh water and -provisions. - -Nellie flushed to her forehead, bit her lips till the blood came, and -turned away in silence. She had no good-will for the British, and would -not feign even civility. - -Mrs. Compton satisfied the claims of conventional politeness by bowing -coldly. - -Mr. Wellworth took upon himself to be spokesman of his party, and -responded: - -“Sir, Major Helmstedt, the proprietor of this estate, is now absent -with the American army, in the North--doing, no doubt, good service -to his country, and good execution among your ranks. We, whom you -find on the spot, are only members of a picnic party, consisting in -all of about fifteen ladies, young and old, two half-grown boys, and -four aged men. Your force, sir, looks to me to be nearly, or quite, -forty fighting men. Resistance on our part would be in vain, else, -Christian minister as I am, I might be tempted to refuse to give to -our enemy drink, though he were athirst, or meat, though he hungered. -The available provisions of the island, sir, are just now very limited -in quantity. The fortunes of war have placed them at your disposition, -sir. We are in your power. We therefore confide in your honor, as -a gentleman and an officer, that in appropriating the articles in -question, you will proceed with the quietness and courtesy due to the -presence of ladies.” - -To this speech, which was more candid than conciliating, the lieutenant -bowed, assuring the clergyman that “booty” and not “beauty,” was the -present object in request; that the former should be removed with -the least possible disturbance to the latter; and counseling him to -withdraw the ladies to the upper chambers of the mansion, while his men -came on and took possession, for an hour or so, of the lower rooms. - -While the clergyman and the lieutenant thus conversed, Nellie turned to -the two girls, who had left the side of their escort, and said: - -“Why, where is Margaret? Where have you left her?” - -“Margaret! Oh! on the beach, or just above it. There she is now, -talking with that saucy ensign!” exclaimed Grace Wellworth, in a tone -of pique. - -“No fear for our heroic Margaret! She is quite competent to the care of -her own personal safety,” retorted Clare Hartley. - -“Yet I think it is very indiscreet in Margaret to remain behind -conversing with that impudent young ensign!” cried Grace, petulantly, -drawing the attention of the whole party to the unconscious subject of -her animadversions. Clare looked on in astonishment. Nellie gazed in -consternation. Mr. Wellworth stared like a lunatic. And Lieutenant King -declared it as his experience that Ensign Dawson was “the devil among -the girls.” And before this group had recovered their self-possession, -they saw the young couple disappear in the woods. - -“Go after them! Fly to her rescue! She is carried off! Run, Mr. -Wellworth,” cried Nellie, in a paroxysm of terror, as soon as she had -recovered from her amazement. - -But Lieutenant King advised the lady to be calm, and the clergyman to -mind his own affairs, adding that the young girl had accompanied the -soldier quite voluntarily, and that he would warrant her, or any lady, -safe from offense by Ensign Dawson. - -“You would warrant him, after witnessing his behavior to me!” exclaimed -Grace, in a half-suppressed whisper, which was, however, not so much -smothered, but that its purport reached the ears of the officer, who -answered, earnestly: - -“Had you been in the woods alone with that youthful soldier, he would -have respected your solitude, and helplessness; but you were amid your -friends; you ran, unwittingly challenging pursuit, and hence--but I do -not defend him; he was wrong, and I beg pardon in his behalf.” - -“What? what? what was that, Grace?” asked old Mr. Wellworth, in alarm. - -“Nothing, father! only when I took fright and ran away, he gave chase, -caught and brought me back to my party; that is all,” replied Grace, -suppressing the fact of the rifled kiss, and blushing deeply for its -suppression. - -“Mr. Wellworth, I really must insist upon your going in search of -Margaret. This lieutenant indorses the ensign; but who indorses the -lieutenant?” inquired Nellie. - -Lieutenant King bowed “as if he had received a compliment.” - -And moved by this persistence on the part of Mrs. Houston, the old -clergyman took the path leading down to the thicket. - -“Madam,” said Lieutenant King, “will you permit me to counsel you to -proceed to the house, and withdraw your female friends to the privacy -of the upper chambers. Myself and my men, who are not desirable company -for ladies, will follow in about fifteen minutes. They will want -refreshments. You will, therefore, be so kind as to leave the keys of -the pantry, storehouse, cellars, etc., in charge of some male servant, -with orders to wait upon me.” - -“Sir, because all our able men are with the army, and we are -defenseless and in your power, you shall be obeyed. And for no other -reason on the face of the earth!” exclaimed Nellie, flushing with -anger, as she beckoned her companions, and took the way, successively, -through the meadow, the orchard, and the garden, to the house. As they -turned away, the British officer bowed with scrupulous politeness, and -laughed within himself, as he muttered: - -“You are a ‘good-nater’ little lady,” and took the way to the beach to -bring together his men. - -Meanwhile, Nellie and her companions reached the mansion, and spread -consternation among the company by announcing that a British force had -landed on the island. With the recollection of Craney Island fresh -in their minds, there was not an old lady there who did not expect -to be put to the sword, or a young woman or boy who did not look to -be carried off. But the calm courage of Clare Hartley, and the cool -serenity of old Mrs. Compton, did much toward soothing their fears and -restoring quiet. Mrs. Houston then explained that they were all to -go upstairs and lock themselves in the chambers, while the soldiers -bivouacked below. - -Hapzibah was then called, and ordered to produce the keys. - -“Well, I ’spose how der’s no help for it, Miss Nellie; fur ef I don’t -guv um up, dem are white niggers bust open ebery singly door in the -house,” said Hapzibah. - -“Yes, and set it on fire afterward, and throw you in to feed the -flames!” was the comforting reply. - -“I ’fies ’em for to do it--white herrin’s!--who’s afeard?--’sides -which, I don’t believe I’d blaze for ’em!” - -“No; you’d blow up like a skin of gunpowder. But hand over the keys, -and go call your brother, old Euripedes, to take charge of them and -wait on the gentlemen. You’ll have to come upstairs with the ladies.” - -“Me go hide ’long o’ de ladies, jes’ as ef I was feared o’ dem white -niggers! Me leabe my poor, ole, innocen’ brudder ’lone, to be put -upon by dem debbils! I like to see myself a doin’ of it! I’d see -ole Hempseed Island sunk inter de bottom o’ de sea wid all aboard -fust--dat’s me. Yer all hear me good, don’t yer?” - -“They’ll certainly throw you in the fire if you talk in that way,” said -Nellie, laughing, in despite of her secret fears and anxieties. - -“I wouldn’t burn to save dere precious libes! I’d see ’em all blasted -fust! I’d see it good! Dat’s me! But I begs yer pardon, Miss Nellie, -chile! I doesn’t mean no ’fence, nor likewise no disrespect to you, -honey--’deed no! But yer see de werry sight ’o one ’o dem dere -b’iled crabs makes me crawl all ober--an’ de sight o’ one o’ dere -scarlet-coats drives me ravin’ mad as ef I war a she-bull!--dat’s me! -’Cause yer see, chile, de werry fust time one o’ dem dere debbils put -his fut on ter de islan’ he done fetch death an’ ’struction long ob -him! An’ now dat debbil done gone an’ fetch forty more debbils more -worse nor hisself. An’ I wish, I does, how I could bore a hole in de -islan’ an’ sink it wid all aboard, I do--dat’s me. An’ now I’ll go -arter my brudder You-Rip.” - -“Stay a moment,” said Mrs. Houston. “You can tell us--is there much -wine and liquor in the cellar?--for if those wretches are permitted to -drink themselves to madness, even the word of their commanding officer -is no security for their good behavior!” - -“Wine an’ likker! No, thanks be to my ’Vine Marster dere ain’t a singly -drap to cool dere parchy tongues, no more’n dere is in Aberyham’s -buzzum! Marse Fillup done ship it all away to camp, for he an’ Marse -Wrath to treat dere brudder ossifers wid, to keep dere couridge when -dey goes inter battle. Wish it was me goin’! I wouldn’t ’quire no sich. -’Sides which, I’d shoot somefin harder at ’em nor grapeshot inter ’em, -as dey talk so much about, which it stands to reason shootin’ grapes -is nuffin but chile’s play, and can’t hurt nobody, much less dem dere -hardened b’iled crabs, ’less deys ’stilled into likker an’ drank too -much of, ’sides bein’ a waste o’ de fruit; which dey do say as how -‘willful waste make woeful want.’” - -“My goodness alive, Happy, how you do run on. You make my head go round -and round like a water-wheel. Do go now and send Euripedes to me,” said -Mrs. Houston. - -“I gwine,” said Hapzibah, who took herself off. - -And just then the gentlemen of the party, who had been out fishing at -the opposite extremity of the island, and had been sent for, arrived -upon the scene, and received the intelligence of the landing of the -foraging party on the western shore of the island, and of their -momentarily expected arrival at the house. - -And now at last there was promptitude of action. The ladies and female -servants were collected and hurried upstairs, with recommendations -not only to lock, but to bolt and bar themselves within the innermost -chambers. Old Hapzibah’s age, fearlessness and tearful remonstrances -obtained for her the questionable privilege of remaining out to -stand by her “poor ole angel,” as she lovingly termed her brother. -Euripedes and herself were intrusted with the keys, and directions to -wait upon the foragers. The four old gentlemen and the two boys then -armed themselves, and took their stations in the upper hall to defend, -if necessary, the approach to the ladies’ place of retreat. These -arrangements were scarcely concluded, before the foraging party entered -the house. And then followed the feast, and succeeded the orgies!--and -such orgies! It was providential that there was no liquor to be found, -though every cellar, closet, cupboard and pantry was ransacked, in the -vain hope of finding a hidden store. The hampers of the picnic party -were rifled of their costly delicacies, and a few bottles of rare wine -discovered, but this went only a little way among so many. You should -have heard old Hapzibah’s indignant account of their proceedings. She -said that “Each red debbil among ’em ’haved as if he wer’ ’sessed o’ -seben oder debbils more worser dan hissef!” That when they failed to -find the wine, they drove her “poor, ole, innocen’, sufferin’ darlin’ -on afore ’em an’ swore all de hair off’n his head--de poor, ole, -timidy, saf’-hearted chile, as couldn’ stan’ nuffin o’ dere debblish -doin’s”--that because she, Aunt Hapzibah, couldn’t be here, and there, -and everywhere at once, “de ’fernal white niggers got into her cabin -an’ stole her trunk o’ berryin’ close, which she meant to go arter ’em -herself, an’ git ’em back even ef she had to pull ’em out’n Admirable -Cockburn’s own claws! Dough ef he, Cockburn, was admirable, she should -like to know, she should, who was ’bominable! That de low-life white -herrin’s was so ’fraid o’ bein’ p’isoned, dat dey made poor, ole Rip, -poor, ole, sufferin’, put-upon angel, drink out’n ebery thing, whedder -it ’greed with him or not--an’ eben ’pelled him to drink out’n ebery -singly milk-pan in the dairyhouse, which eberybody knows he neber could -’bide milk eber since he was weaned, which allers made him dead sick to -his stumick.” - -Finally, it was sunset before the marauders left the island, carrying -off with them not only all the grain, but all the meat, fruit, and -garden vegetables, and also all the poultry, and all the live stock -with the exception of one old black ram, the patriarch of the flock, -whom Hapzibah swore bitterly to carry to Cockburn, when she went after -her trunk. - -It was quite dark before it was considered safe to warrant the descent -of the ladies from their retreat. Fortunately there would be a moon, -or else the half-starved and thoroughly wearied picnickers must have -rowed home in darkness. Now, therefore, they assembled on the porch, to -talk over their misadventure, and wait for the rising of the moon. But -suddenly some one asked: - -“Where is Margaret Helmstedt, and----” - -“Where is Margaret?” was echoed all around. - -Nellie had hoped that she was safe in the charge of Mr. Wellworth. But -Mr. Wellworth, who from wandering all over the island now joined the -party, declared that he had been unable to find her, and that he had -expected to hear of her among her friends present. And now, as the -alarm spread, and exclamations of: “Where is Margaret?” “Where can she -be?” “Is it possible she can have been carried off?” were passed in -distress from one to another, and all began to separate to prosecute -the search for her, a quiet low voice was heard from their midst, -saying: - -“I am here--be not uneasy!” and, ghostlike, Margaret Helmstedt stood -among them! The sight of the maiden was an immediate and great relief, -but: - -“Are you quite safe, my child?” asked Mr. Wellworth. - -“Quite!” responded Margaret, sinking upon a bench as if greatly -exhausted. - -“Where have you been?” asked Mrs. Houston sharply. - -“Beyond the wa----” Her voice died away in silence; she had fainted. - -“It is fatigue, and fright, and want of food,” said old Mrs. Compton, -going to the poor girl, raising her head, and supporting it on her lap. - -“And those wretches have not left so much as a drop of wine to revive -her, or even a candle to see her face by,” exclaimed Nellie, who, -whatever her cause of displeasure might be, was always moved by the -sight of physical suffering, with which she could the more readily -sympathize. But Dr. Hartley caused Margaret’s head to be laid down -again, and water to be dashed in her face; and by these simple means -her recovery was soon effected. - -As the moon was now rising, the company prepared themselves, and went -down to the beach to get into their boats, which, they thanked Heaven, -had not been carried off by the marauders. The trip back was decidedly -the pleasantest part of the whole expedition. An hour’s row over the -moonlit waters brought them to the Bluff, where Nellie ordered supper -to be immediately prepared for the whole famished party, who remained -her guests that night, and only separated after breakfast the next -morning. - -When her last guest had departed, Mrs. Houston entered the private -sitting-room of Margaret Helmstedt, whom she found quietly sitting -beside her workstand, engaged in sewing. - -Taking a seat close beside her, Mrs. Houston said: - -“Margaret, I have come to request an explanation of your strange -conduct of yesterday, which, let me assure you, has given your friends -great pain, and even revived all the old gossip of which you were the -subject. Margaret, I await your answer.” - -She looked up from her work, and fixing her dark eyes full upon the -face of her catechiser, answered firmly though gently: - -“Mrs. Houston, I have no explanation to make!” - -The little lady flushed and bit her lip. - -Margaret continued her needlework. - -“Then I am to understand, Miss Helmstedt, that you consider it quite -proper for a young lady to spend two or three hours alone in the woods -with a soldier, who is not of her kindred?” - -Margaret might have replied with truth, “No, Mrs. Houston, I do not -consider that at all proper,” but she chose, on the contrary, to remain -silent. - -“And you doubtless think, besides, that an affianced bride owes no -consideration to her betrothed husband.” - -“So far from that, I feel that she owes the same as if the church and -the state had already blessed and confirmed the engagement,” answered -Margaret. - -“Which, in your case, it will never do, unless certain suspicious acts -of yours are satisfactorily explained.” - -“Mrs. Houston, I do not understand you,” said Margaret, flushing deeply. - -“You do not seem to know that the honor of Ralph is committed to your -keeping!” - -“Mrs. Houston, the honor of no human being can possibly go out of his -own keeping, or into that of another.” - -The lady still bit her lip in high displeasure; but a glance at the -pale, pensive face, and mourning dress of the orphan girl, a sudden -recollection of her dead mother, a reflection upon the inevitable -misery that any real imprudence might bring upon that mother’s only -child, perhaps modified her resentment, for in a kinder tone she said: - -“Margaret Helmstedt, you are on the brink of a frightful precipice! -pause! confide to me the nature of the acquaintance subsisting between -yourself and that strange young man, whom you had evidently known -previous to your meeting yesterday morning. Is he the person to whom -you wrote those mysterious letters? Is he the same whose visit to the -island caused your poor mother such keen distress? Was it the dread of -your continued intimacy, and possible union with such an unadmissible -person, that constrained her to betroth you to Ralph, and consign you -to my care? Speak, Margaret! It may be in my power to help and save -you!” - -Margaret trembled through all her frame, but answered firmly: - -“Dear Mrs. Houston, I thank you for your kindness, but--I have nothing -to say!” - -“Margaret; I adjure you by the memory of your dead mother, speak! -explain!” - -She might have replied, “And in the name of my dear, mother, I -repudiate your adjuration!” But fearing to give the slightest clue, or -in the least degree to compromise the memory of her who slept beneath -the old oak beside the waves, she answered: - -“Even so adjured, I can only repeat, that I have no explanation to -make, Mrs. Houston.” - -“Then I will delay no longer. I will write to Ralph!” exclaimed Mrs. -Houston, indignantly rising and leaving the room. - -“Oh! mother! mother!” The wailing voice of the girl was smothered in -her spread hands, and in her thick, disheveled hair as she cast herself -upon the floor. - -Now whether Mrs. Houston really put her threat into immediate -execution, is not known. What is certain, the increased coldness of all -the family, even of the kind-hearted, liberal-minded Colonel Houston, -so distressed the spirit of the orphan girl that she seldom sought -their company, and at last met them only at meal times. A fortnight -passed thus, during which the family at the Bluff received no company -and paid no visits. Such long seasons of isolation, even in summer, -were not unusual in that sparsely settled place, where the undertaking -of a friendly visit was really a serious piece of business. - -At the end of a fortnight, however, as the family were sitting at -dinner, Mr. Wellworth suddenly and unannounced entered the room. His -countenance betrayed that some unusual circumstance had brought him -out. All arose to receive him. In the midst of the general shaking of -hands, the colonel put the question that all longed to ask. - -“What has happened, Mr. Wellworth?” - -“Why, sir, a party of British soldiers landed this morning and attacked -the parsonage!” - -“Good Heaven! I hope no serious damage has been done?” exclaimed -Colonel Houston, while all listened with intense interest for his -answer. - -“No, thank the Lord! There was, providentially, a wedding at the -church, a poor man’s, whose friends had all gathered to see him -married. We armed ourselves with what we could catch up, and, being -much the larger party, succeeded in beating off the assailants.” - -“I hope there was no bloodshed?” said the kind-hearted Mrs. Compton. - -“None on our side to speak of. They left one of their party on the -field--Dodson--Carson--Dawson--yes, that is his name, Dawson--the very -fellow that was with the foragers who broke in upon our picnic party.” - -A low half-suppressed cry from Margaret, had greeted the name of the -wounded man. But no one heard it but Mrs. Houston, who resented it by -saying: - -“And I hope, Mr. Wellworth, the wretch was dead!” - -“He may be so by this time, madam,” replied the minister, in a voice of -grave rebuke; “the poor young man is severely wounded. We have put him -to bed; my daughter Grace and her maid are taking care of him, and I am -off for Dr. Hartley. I called just to beg you to have me put across the -bay.” - -“Certainly,” replied Colonel Houston, who immediately despatched his -waiter to give orders for the boat to be made ready. And in fifteen -minutes Mr. Wellworth had departed on his errand. - -It was late in the evening when the clergyman returned with the -physician, and both took their way to the parsonage. The next morning, -when Dr. Hartley called at the Bluff on his way home, he reported the -wound of the young ensign not so dangerous as had been represented. -And, in short, in a few days the young man was convalescent. Before -his full recovery, the British fleet had left this portion of the bay, -and had gone down to the mouth of the Patuxent. The attack upon the -parsonage was the last foray made by their troops in that neighborhood. - -One morning, about the third week in August, the family at Buzzard’s -Bluff were cast into a state of consternation by an unprecedented -event. Margaret Helmstedt did not appear at the breakfast table. -After awaiting her coming for some time, Mrs. Houston sent to inquire -for her, and learned that she was not to be found. Her maid was also -missing. Her footman was next sought for in vain, and during the search -it was discovered that her little sail, _The Pearl Shell_ had also -been taken away. And while the trouble of the family was still at its -height, Mr. Wellworth was announced, and entered with intelligence that -seemed, in Mrs. Houston’s estimation, to throw light upon the mystery -of Margaret’s flight--namely, that his prisoner, the young British -ensign, William Dawson, had broken his parole and fled. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. PERSECUTION. - - - “They said that guilt a shade had cast - Upon her youthful fame, - And scornful murmurs as she passed - Were mingled with her name. - In truth, it was a painful sight - As former friends went by - To see her trembling lip grow white - Beneath each altered eye.” - --MRS. HOLMES. - -To the surprise of all the family at the Bluff, Margaret Helmstedt, -the third morning from her disappearance, returned to her guardian’s -house. Mrs. Houston took upon herself the ungenial task of meeting the -delinquent. - -“Well, miss, or rather, I beg your pardon, madam, permit me to -congratulate you! though really I had not supposed you would have so -soon honored my humble house with a visit,” said Nellie, as she met her -at the door. - -“Mrs. Houston, I do not understand you: pray, let me pass,” pleaded the -girl, who looked pale, exhausted, and heartbroken. - -“Pass, indeed! I would first know who it is that so glibly demands to -pass. No, madam; your right to pass here is forfeited. I only wonder -that you should present yourself. But I suppose that you have come for -your effects; if so, inform me where they shall be sent, and I will -have them forwarded.” - -Margaret leaned half fainting against the door frame, but -notwithstanding her physical prostration and mental disturbance, she -maintained her presence of mind. - -“Mrs. Houston, you are mistaken. I bear no new name or new relation, as -your words would seem to imply.” - -“Then, miss, so much the worse!” exclaimed Nellie, indignantly. - -“I do not understand you,” said Margaret, in amazement. - -“You do! And I wonder more than ever that you should presume to present -yourself before me!” retorted the lady, raising her voice. - -“Mrs. Houston, my mother was your bosom friend. Do not insult her -daughter,” said Margaret, as the blood rushed to her face. - -“You have dishonored your mother!” exclaimed Nellie, in a paroxysm of -emotion between anger, awakened memory and grief. - -“God knoweth!” replied the maiden, dropping her head and her clasped -hands with a gesture of profound despair. - -But the altercation had reached the ears of Colonel Houston, who now -came out, saying: - -“Nellie, my dear, this is not the way to meet this exigency. -Good-morning, Miss Helmstedt, pray walk in and be seated. Nellie, she -is but a young thing! If she has committed any grave fault, it carries -its own bitter punishment, God knows. As for us, since she presents -herself here again, we must continue to give her shelter and protection -until the arrival of her father. Nay, Nellie, my dear, I say this must -be done whatever her offences may be.” - -“You too! Oh, you too, Colonel Houston!” involuntarily exclaimed -Margaret, clasping her hands. - -“Miss Helmstedt, my child, I am not your judge. Make a confidante of my -wife, she loved your mother. Go into your apartment, Margaret. Attend -her, Mrs. Houston.” - -“Colonel Houston, I thank you! Mrs. Houston,” she continued, in a -faltering voice; “I returned here only--because--it was my appointed -place of abode--the home selected for me by my parents and--Ralph.” - -“Never mind about Ralph now, my child,” said the colonel, in a gentle -tone, which nevertheless cut Margaret to the heart. She meekly bowed -her head and passed on to her own apartments, followed by Mrs. Houston, -who threw herself into a chair and immediately commenced a close -catechism, which was interrupted in the midst by Margaret saying: - -“Dear Mrs. Houston, not from any want of respect to you, and not in -defiance of your authority, but from the direst necessity--Oh, what am -I saying!” She stopped suddenly in great anguish and remained silent. - -“Margaret Helmstedt, what mean you?” demanded Mrs. Houston, indignantly. - -“Nothing! I mean nothing!” - -“You mean to affront me!” - -“No, Heaven knows!” - -“How can you explain or defend your conduct?” - -“In no manner!” - -“And you expect us quietly to submit to your contumacy?” - -“No! Do your will. I cannot blame you!” - -“And Ralph?” - -Like the rising of an inward light came a transient glow of faith from -her beautiful face. - -“Ralph will think no evil,” she said, softly. - -“Yet let me assure you, Miss Helmstedt, that though Ralph Houston’s -chivalric confidence in you may be unshaken; yet his father will never -now consent to the continuance of his engagement with you. You heard -what Colonel Houston said?” - -“I heard,” said Margaret, with gentle dignity. - -“You heard? what then!” - -“Mr. Houston is twenty-eight years of age, and his own master.” - -“And what follows, pray, from that?” - -“That in this matter he will do as seems to him right!” - -“And yourself?” - -“I leave my destiny with the fullest faith where God, my parents and -his parents placed it--in the hands of my betrothed husband.” - -“And he will abide by his engagement! I know his Quixotic temper! he -will. But, Margaret Helmstedt, delicacy requires of you to retire from -the contract.” - -Margaret smiled mournfully, and answered earnestly: - -“Madam, God knoweth that there are higher principles of action than -fantastic delicacy. I have no right to break my engagement with Ralph -Houston. I will free him from his bond; but if he holds me to mine, -why so be it; he is wiser than I am, and in the name of the Lord I am -his affianced wife.” - -Nellie scarcely knew how to reply to this. She looked straight into -the face of the girl as though she would read and expose her soul. -Superficially that face was pale and still; the lips compressed; -the eyes cast down until the close, long lashes lay penciled on the -white cheeks; but, under all, a repressed glow of devotion, sorrow, -firmness, fervor, made eloquent the beautiful countenance, as she sat -there, with her hands clasped and unconsciously pressed to her bosom. -Despite of the strong circumstantial evidence, Nellie could not look -into that face and hold to her belief the owner’s unworthiness. And the -little woman grew more angry at the inconsistency and contradiction of -her own thoughts and feelings. She ascribed this to Margaret’s skill -in influencing her. And out of her pause and study she broke forth -impatiently: - -“You are an artful girl, Margaret. I do not know where you get your -duplicity, not from your mother, I know. No matter; thank Heaven, in -a few days your father and Ralph will be here, and my responsibility -over.” And rising, angrily, she left the room, and left Margaret -remaining in the same attitude of superficial calmness and suppressed -excitement. - -Nellie went to her own especial sitting-room, communicating by short -passages with storeroom, pantry and kitchen, and where she transacted -all her housekeeping business. She found her own maid, the pretty -mulatress, with knitting in hand, as usual, in attendance. - -“Go at once, Jessie, and call Miss Helmstedt’s servants here.” - -The girl obeyed, and soon returned, accompanied by Hildreth and -Forrest, who made their “reverence,” and stood waiting the lady’s -pleasure. - -“I suppose your mistress has given you orders to reply to no questions -in regard to her absence!” asked Nellie, sharply. - -“No, madam; Miss Marget did nothing of the sort,” answered Forrest. - -“Be careful of your manner, sir.” - -Forrest bowed. - -“When did she leave the house?” - -“Night afore last.” - -“With whom?” - -“Me an’ Hild’eth, madam.” - -“No others?” - -“No, madam.” - -“Where did she go?” - -“Up the river some ways to a landin’ on to de Marylan’ shore as I never -was at afore.” - -“And what then?” - -“She lef’ me den, Hild’eth an’ me, at a farmhouse where we landed, an’ -took a horse an’ rode away. She was gone all day. Last night she come -back, an’ paid de bill, and took boat an’ come straight home.” - -“Very well, that is all very well of you, Forrest, so far. You have -told the truth, I suppose; but you have not told the whole truth, I -know. Whom did she meet at that farmhouse? and who rode away with her -when she went?” - -“Not a singly soul did she meet, ’cept it was de fam’ly. An’ not a -singly soul did ride with her.” - -“You are lying!” exclaimed Nellie, who, in her anger, was very capable -of using strong language to the servants. - -“No! ’fore my ’Vine Marster in heaben, I’se tellin’ of you de trufe, -Miss Nellie.” - -“You are not! Your mistress has tutored you what to say.” - -The old man’s face flushed darkly, as he answered: - -“I ax your pardon very humble, Miss Nellie; but Miss Marget couldn’t -tutor no one to no false. An’ on de contrairy wise she said to we -den, my sister an’ me, she said: ‘Forrest and Hildreth, mind when you -are questioned in regard to me tell the truf as jus’ you know it.’ -Dat’s all, Miss Nellie. ’Deed it is, madam. Miss Marget is high beyant -tutorin’ anybody to any false.” - -“There! you are not requested to indorse Miss Helmstedt. And very -likely she did not take you into her counsels. Now, tell me the name of -the place where you stopped?” - -“I doesn’t know it, Miss Nellie, madam.” - -“Well, then, the name of the people?” - -“Dey call de old gemman Marse John, an’ de ole lady Miss Mary. I didn’ -hear no other name.” - -“You are deceiving me!” - -“No, ’fore my Heabenly Marster, madam.” - -“You are!” And here followed an altercation not very creditable to -the dignity of Mrs. Colonel Houston, and which was, besides, quite -fruitless, as the servant could give her no further satisfaction. - -All that forenoon Margaret sat in her room, occupying her hands with -some needlework in which her heart took little interest. She dreaded -the dinner hour, in which she should have to face the assembled family. -She would gladly have remained fasting in her room, for, indeed, her -appetite was gone, but she wished to do nothing that could be construed -into an act of resentment. So, when the bell rang, she arose with a -sigh, bathed her face, smoothed her black tresses, added a little lace -collar and locket brooch to her black silk dress, and passed out to the -dining-room. - -The whole family were already seated at the table; but Colonel Houston, -who never failed in courtesy to the orphan girl, arose, as usual, -and handed her to her seat. Her eyes were cast down, her cheeks were -deeply flushed. She wore, poor girl, what seemed a look of conscious -guilt, but it was the consciousness, not of guilt, but of being thought -guilty. She could scarcely lift her heavy lids to meet and return -the cold nods of recognition with which old Colonel and Mrs. Compton -acknowledged her presence. The fervid devotion that had nerved her -heart to meet Mrs. Houston’s single attack was chilled before this -table full of cold faces and averted eyes. She could not partake of the -meal; she could scarcely sustain herself through the sitting; and at -the end she escaped from the table as from a scene of torture. - -“She is suffering very much; I will go and talk to her,” said the -really kind-hearted old Mrs. Compton. - -“No, mother, do nothing of the sort. It would be altogether useless. -You might wear out your lungs to no purpose. She is perfectly -contumacious,” said Mrs. Houston. - -“Nellie, my dear, she is the child of your best friend.” - -“I know it,” exclaimed the little lady, with the tears of grief and -rage rushing to her eyes, “and that is what makes it so difficult to -deal with her; for if she were any other than Marguerite De Lancie’s -daughter, I would turn her out of the house without more ado.” - -“My good mother, and my dear wife, listen to me. You are both right, -in a measure. I think with you, Nellie, that since Miss Helmstedt -persistently declines to explain her strange course, self-respect and -dignity should hold us all henceforth silent upon this subject. And -with you, Mrs. Compton, I think that regard to the memory of the mother -should govern our conduct toward the child until we can resign her into -the hands of her father. The trial will be short. We may daily expect -his arrival, and in the meantime we must avoid the obnoxious subject, -and treat the young lady with the courtesy due solely to Marguerite De -Lancie’s daughter.” - -While this conversation was on the tapis, the door was thrown open, -and the Rev. Mr. Wellworth announced. This worthy gentleman’s arrival -was, of late, the harbinger of startling news. The family had grown to -expect it on seeing him. His appearance now corroborated their usual -expectations. His manner was hurried, his face flushed, his expression -angry. - -“Good-day, friends! Has your fugitive returned?” - -“Yes, why?” inquired three or four in a breath, rising from the table. - -“Because mine has, that is all!” replied the old man, throwing down his -hat and seating himself unceremoniously. “Yes, Ensign Dawson presented -himself this morning at our house, looking as honest, as frank, and -as innocent as that exemplary young man generally does. I inquired -why he came, and how he dared present himself. He replied that he had -been unavoidably detained, but that as soon as he was at liberty, he -had returned to redeem his parole and save his honor. I told him that -‘naught was never in danger,’ but requested him to be more explicit. He -declined, saying that he had explained to me that he had been detained, -and had in the first moment of his liberty returned to give himself up, -and that was enough for me to know.” - -“But, you asked him about the supposed companion of his flight?” -inquired the indiscreet Nellie. - -“Ay, and when I mentioned Margaret Helmstedt’s name, his eyes flashed -fire! he clapped his hand where his sword was not, and looked as if he -would have run me through the body!” - -“And gave you no satisfaction, I daresay?” - -“None whatever--neither denying nor affirming anything.” - -“And what have you done with the villain? I hope you have locked him up -in the cellar!” exclaimed the indignant Nellie. - -“Not I, indeed; if I had, the case would have been hopeless.” - -“I--I do not understand you,” said Nellie. - -The clergyman looked all around the room, and then replied: - -“There are no giddy young people here to repeat the story. I will tell -you. Grace is a fool! All girls are, I believe! A scarlet coat with -gilt ornaments inflames their imaginations--a wound melts their hearts! -And our wounded prisoner, between his fine scarlet and gold coat and -his broken rib--(well, you understand me!)--if I had locked him up in -the cellar, or in the best bedroom, my girl would have straightway -imagined me a tyrannical old despot, and my captive would have grown a -hero in her eyes! No, I invited him to dinner, drank his health, played -a game of backgammon with him, and afterward returned him his parole, -and privately signified that he was at liberty to depart. And however -my silly girl feels about it, she cannot say that I persecuted this -‘poor wounded hussar.’” - -“But, the d----l! you do not mean to say that this villain aspired to -Grace also?” exclaimed Colonel Houston, in dismay. - -“How can I tell? I do not know that he did aspire to Margaret, or that -he didn’t aspire to Grace! All I know is, that Grace behaved like -a fool after his first departure and worse, if possible, after his -second. But Margaret, you say, has returned?” - -“She came back this morning.” - -“And what does the unfortunate girl say?” - -“Like your prisoner, she refuses to affirm or deny anything.” - -“Mr. Wellworth,” said Colonel Houston, “we have decided to speak no -more upon the subject with Miss Helmstedt, but to leave matters as they -are until the return of her father, who is daily expected.” - -“I think, under the circumstances, that that is as well,” replied the -old man. And soon after, he concluded his visit and departed. - -And as the subject was no more mentioned to Margaret, she remained in -ignorance of the visit of Mr. Wellworth. - -And from this time Margaret Helmstedt kept her own apartments, -except when forced to join the family at their meals. And upon these -occasions, the silence of the ladies, and the half compassionate -courtesy of Colonel Houston, wounded her heart more deeply than the -most bitter reproaches could have done. - -A week passed in this dreary manner, and still Major Helmstedt and -Captain Houston had not returned, though they were as yet daily -expected. - -Margaret, lonely, desolate, craving companionship and sympathy, one -day ordered her carriage and drove up to the parsonage to see Grace -Wellworth. She was shown into the little sitting-room where the -parson’s daughter sat sewing. - -Grace arose to meet her friend with a constrained civility that cut -Margaret to the heart. She could not associate her coldness with the -calumnious reports afloat concerning herself, and therefore could not -comprehend it. - -But Margaret’s heart yearned toward her friend; she could not bear to -be at variance with her. - -“My dearest Grace, what is the matter? have I unconsciously offended -you in any way?” she inquired, gently, as she sat down beside the girl -and laid her hand on her arm. - -“Unconsciously! no, I think not! You are doubly a traitor, Margaret -Helmstedt! Traitor to your betrothed and to your friend!” replied Miss -Wellworth, bitterly. - -“Grace! this from you!” - -“Yes, this from me! of all others from me! The deeply injured have a -right to complain and reproach.” - -“Oh, Grace! Grace! my friend!” exclaimed Margaret, wringing her hands. - -But before another word was said, old Mr. Wellworth entered the room. - -“Good-afternoon, Miss Helmstedt. Grace, my dear, go down to Dinah’s -quarter and give her her medicine, Miss Helmstedt will excuse you. One -of our women has malaria fever, Miss Helmstedt.” - -“Indeed! I am sorry; but I have some skill in nursing: shall I not go -with Grace?” inquired Margaret, as her friend arose to leave the room. - -“No, young lady; I wish to have some conversation with you.” - -Grace sulkily departed, and Margaret meekly resumed her seat. - -“Miss Helmstedt, my poor child, it is a very painful duty that I -have now to perform. Since the decease of my wife, I have to watch -with double vigilance over the welfare of my motherless daughter, -and I should feel indebted to you, Margaret, if you would abstain -from visiting Grace until some questions in regard to your course are -satisfactorily answered.” - -Margaret’s face grew gray with anguish as she arose to her feet, and -clasping her hands, murmured: - -“My God! my God! You do not think I could do anything that should -separate me from the good of my own sex?” - -“Margaret, unhappy child, that question is not for me to answer. I dare -not judge you, but leave the matter to God above and to your father on -earth.” - -“Farewell, Mr. Wellworth. I know the time will come when your kind -nature will feel sorrow for having stricken a heart already so bruised -and bleeding as this,” she said, laying her hand upon her surcharged -bosom; “but you are not to blame, so God bless you and farewell,” she -repeated, offering her hand. - -The clergyman took and pressed it, and the tears sprang to his eyes as -he answered: - -“Margaret, the time has come, when I deeply regret the necessity of -giving you pain. Alas! my child, ‘the way of the transgressor is -hard.’ May God deliver your soul,” and rising, he attended her to her -carriage, placed her in it, and saying: - -“God bless you!” closed the door and retired. - -“Oh, mother! mother! Oh, mother! mother! behold the second gift--my -only friendship! They are yours, mother! they are yours! only love -me from heaven! for I love you beyond all on earth,” cried Margaret, -covering her sobbing face, and sinking back in the carriage. - -Margaret returned home to her deserted and lonely rooms. No one came -thither now; no one invited her thence. Darker lowered the clouds of -fate over her devoted young head. Another weary week passed, and still -the returning soldiers had not arrived. The Sabbath came--the first -Sabbath in October. - -Margaret had always found the sweetest consolation in the ordinances -of religion. This, being the first Sabbath of the month, was sacrament -Sunday. And never since her entrance into the church had Margaret -missed the communion. And now, even in her deep distress, when she so -bitterly needed the consolations of religion, it was with a subdued joy -that she prepared to receive them. It was delightful autumn weather, -and the whole family who were going would fill the family coach--so -much had been intimated to Margaret through her attendants. Therefore -she was obliged to order her own carriage. The lonely ride, under -present circumstances, was far more endurable than the presence of -the family would have been; and solitude and silence afforded her the -opportunity for meditation that the occasion required. - -She reached the church and left her carriage before the hour of -service. The fine day had drawn an unusually large congregation -together, and had kept them sauntering and gossiping out in the open -air; but Margaret, as she smiled or nodded to one or another, met only -scornful glances or averted heads. More than shocked, appalled and -dismayed by this sort of reception, she hurried into the church and on -to her pew. - -Margaret had always, in preference to the Houstons’ pew, occupied -her own mother’s, “to keep it warm,” she had said, in affectionate -explanation, to Mrs. Houston. Generally, Grace or Clare, or both, -came and sat with her to keep her company. But to-day, as yet, neither -of her friends had arrived, and she occupied her pew alone. As hers -was one of those side pews in a line with the pulpit, her position -commanded not only the preacher’s, but the congregation’s view. The -preacher had not come. The congregation in the church was sparse, the -large majority remaining in the yard. Yet, as Margaret’s eyes casually -roved over this thin assembly, she grew paler to notice how heads -were put together, and whispers and sidelong glances were directed to -herself. To escape this, and to find strength and comfort, she opened -her pocket Bible and commenced reading. - -Presently, the bell tolled; and the people came pouring in, filling -their pews. About the time that all was quiet, the minister came in, -followed at a little distance by his son and daughter, who passed into -the parsonage pew, while he ascended into the pulpit, offered his -preliminary private prayer, and then opening the book commenced the -sublime ritual of worship. - -“The Lord is in His holy temple. Let all the earth keep silence before -Him.” - -These words, repeated Sunday after Sunday, never lost their sublime -significance for Margaret. They ever impressed her solemnly, at once -awing and elevating her soul. Now as they fell upon her ear, her -sorrows and humiliations were, for the time, set aside. A hundred eyes -might watch her, a hundred tongues malign her; but she neither heeded, -nor even knew it. She knew she was alone--she could not help knowing -this; Grace had passed her by; Clare had doubtless come, but not to -her. She felt herself abandoned of human kind, but yet not alone, for -“God was in His holy temple.” - -The opening exhortation, the hymn, the prayers, and the lessons for the -day were all over, and the congregation knelt for the litany. - -“From envy, hatred and malice, and all uncharitableness, good Lord -deliver us.” - -These words had always slid easily over the tongue of Margaret, so -foreign had these passions been to her life and experience; but now -with what earnestness of heart they were repeated: - -“That it may please Thee to forgive our enemies, persecutors and -slanderers, and to turn their hearts.” - -Formal words once, repeated as by rote, now how full of significance to -Margaret. “Oh, Father in Heaven,” she added, “help me to ask this in -all sincerity.” - -The litany was over, and the little bustle that ensued, of people -rising from their knees, Margaret’s pew door was opened, a warm hand -clasped hers, and a cordial voice whispered in her ear: - -“I am very late to-day, but ‘better late than never,’ even at church.” - -And Margaret, looking up, saw the bright face of Clare Hartley before -her. - -Poor Margaret, at this unexpected blessing, nearly burst into tears. - -“Oh, Clare, have you heard? have you heard?” she eagerly whispered. - -There was no time to say more; the services were recommenced, and the -congregation attentive. - -When the usual morning exercises were over, a portion of the -congregation retired, while the other remained for the communion. Clare -was not a communicant, but she stayed in the pew to wait for Margaret. -Not with the first circle, nor yet with the second, but meekly with the -third, Margaret approached the Lord’s table. Mr. Wellworth administered -the wine, and one of the deacons the bread. Margaret knelt near the -center of the circle, so that about half the set were served before the -minister came to her. And when he did, instead of putting the blessed -chalice into her hand, he stooped and whispered: - -“Miss Helmstedt, I would prefer to talk with you again before -administering the sacrament to you.” - -This in face of the whole assembly. This at the altar. Had a -thunderbolt fallen upon her head, she could scarcely have been more -heavily stricken, more overwhelmed and stunned. - -This, then, was the third offering; the comfort of the Christian -sacraments was sacrificed. No earthly stay was left her now, but the -regard of her stern father and the love of Ralph. Would they remain -to her? For her father she could not decide. One who knew him best, -and loved him most, had died because she dared not trust him with the -secret of her life. But for Ralph! Ever at the thought of him, through -her deeper distress, the great joy of faith arose, irradiating her soul -and beaming from her countenance. - -But now, alas! no thought, no feeling, but a sense of crushing shame -possessed her. How she left that spot she never could have told! The -first fact she knew was that Clare had left her pew to meet and join -her; Clare’s supporting arm was around her waist; Clare’s encouraging -voice was in her ears; Clare took her from the church and placed her -in her carriage; and would have entered and sat beside her, but that -Margaret, recovering her presence of mind, repulsed her, saying: - -“No, Clare! no, beloved friend! it is almost well to have suffered so -much to find a friend so loyal and true; but your girlish arm cannot -singly sustain me. And you shall not compromise yourself for me. Leave -me, brave girl; leave me to my fate!” - -“Now may the Lord leave me when I do! No, please Heaven, Clare Hartley -stands or falls with her friend!” exclaimed the noble girl, as she -entered and seated herself beside Margaret. “Drive on, Forrest,” she -added, seeing Miss Helmstedt too much preoccupied to remember to give -the order. - -“My father was not at church to-day. So if you will send a messenger -with a note from me to Dr. Hartley, I will remain with you, Margaret, -until your father arrives.” - -“Oh, Clare! Clare! if you hurt yourself for me, I shall never forgive -myself for allowing you to come.” - -“As if you could keep me away.” - -“Clare, do you know what they say of me?” - -Clare shook her head, frowned, beat an impatient tattoo with her feet -upon the mat, and answered: - -“Know it! No; I do not! Do you suppose that I sit still and listen -to any one slandering you? Do you imagine that any one would dare to -slander you in my presence? I tell you, Margaret, that I should take -the responsibility of expelling man or woman from my father’s house who -should dare to breathe a word against you.” - -“Oh, Clare! the circumstantial evidence against me is overwhelming!” - -“What is circumstantial evidence, however strong, against your whole -good and beautiful life?” - -“You would never believe ill of me.” - -“Margaret--barring original sin, which I am required to believe in--I -think I have a pure heart, a clear head, and strong eyes. I do not find -so much evil in my own soul, as to be obliged to impute a part of it -to another. I never confuse probabilities; and, lastly, I can tell an -Agnes from a Calista at sight.” - -By this time the rapid drive had brought them home. Clare scribbled a -hasty note, which Forrest conveyed to her father. - -The Comptons and the Houstons were all communicants, and did not leave -the church until all the services were over. They had been bitterly -galled and humiliated by the repulse that Margaret Helmstedt, a member -of their family, had received. On their way home, they discussed -the propriety of immediately sending her off, with her servants, to -Helmstedt’s Island. - -“Her father does not come; her conduct grows worse and worse; she has -certainly forfeited all claims to our protection, and she compromises -us every day,” urged Nellie. - -“I am not sure but that the isle would be the best and most secure -retreat for her until the coming of her father; the servants there -are faithful and reliable, and the place is not so very accessible to -interlopers, now that the British have retired,” said old Mrs. Compton. - -Such being the opinion of the ladies of the family, upon a case -immediately within their own province, Colonel Houston could say but -little. - -“Dear mother and fair wife, the matter rests with you at last; but for -myself, I prefer that the girl should remain under our protection until -the arrival of her father. I would place her nowhere, except in Major -Helmstedt’s own hands.” - -The ladies, however, decided that Margaret Helmstedt should, the -next morning, be sent off to the isle. And the colonel reluctantly -acquiesced. As for old Colonel Compton, from first to last he had not -interfered, or even commented, except by a groan or a sigh. - -Upon arriving at home, they were astonished to find Clare Hartley with -Margaret. And when they were told that Forrest had been dispatched to -Plover’s Point, with a note from Clare to inform her father of her -whereabouts, Nellie prophesied that the messenger would bring back -orders for Clare to return immediately. And she decided to say nothing -to Margaret about the approaching exodus until after Clare’s departure. - -Mrs. Houston’s prediction was verified. Forrest returned about sunset -with a note from Dr. Hartley to his daughter, expressing surprise that -she should have made this visit without consulting him, and commanding -her, as it was too late for her to cross the bay that evening, to -return, without fail, early the next morning. - -Margaret gazed anxiously at Clare while the latter read her note. - -“Well, Clare! well?” she asked, eagerly, as her friend folded the paper. - -“Well, dear, as I left home without settling up some matters, I must -run back for a few hours to-morrow morning; but I will be sure to come -back and redeem my pledge of remaining near you until your father’s -arrival, dear Margaret; for every minute I see more clearly that you -need some faithful friend at your side,” replied Clare, who felt -confident of being able to persuade her father to permit her return. - -Clare slept with Margaret in her arms that night. And early the next -morning--very early, to deprecate her father’s displeasure, she entered -Margaret’s little _Pearl Shell_, and was taken by Forrest across the -bay and up the river to Plover’s Point. - -She had scarcely disappeared from the house, before Mrs. Houston -entered Miss Helmstedt’s room. - -Margaret was seated in her low sewing-chair with her elbow leaning on -the little workstand beside her, her pale forehead bowed upon her open -palm, and a small piece of needlework held laxly in the other hand -lying idly upon her lap. Her eyes were hollow, her eyelashes drooping -until they overshadowed cheeks that wore the extreme pallor of -illness. Her whole aspect was one of mute despair. - -The bustling entrance of Mrs. Houston was not perceived until the lady -addressed her sharply: - -“Miss Helmstedt, I have something to say to you.” - -Margaret started ever so slightly, and then quietly arose, handed her -visitor a chair, and resumed her own seat, and after a little while her -former attitude, her elbow resting on the stand, her head bowed upon -her hand. - -“Miss Helmstedt,” said the lady, taking the offered seat with an air of -importance, “we have decided that under present circumstances, it is -better that you should leave the house at once with your servants, and -retire to the isle. Your effects can be sent after you.” - -A little lower sank the bowed head--a little farther down slid the -relaxed hand, that was the only external evidence of the new blow she -had received. To have had her good name smirched with foul calumny; to -have suffered the desertion of all her friends save one; to have been -publicly turned from the communion table; all this had been bitter as -the water of Marah! Still she had said to herself: “Though all in this -house wound me with their frowns and none vouchsafe me a kind word or -look, yet will I be patient and endure it until they come. My father -and Ralph shall find me where they left me.” - -But now to be sent with dishonor from this home of shelter, where she -awaited the coming of her father and her betrothed husband; and under -such an overwhelming mass of circumstantial evidence against her as to -justify in all men’s eyes those who discarded her--this, indeed, was -the bitterness of death! - -Yet one word from her would have changed all. And now she was under no -vow to withhold that word, for she recollected that her dying mother -had said to her: “If ever, my little Margaret, your honor or happiness -should be at stake through this charge with which I have burdened you, -cast it off, give my secret to the wind!” And now a word that she was -free to speak would lift her from the pit of ignominy and set her -upon a mount of honor. It would bring the Comptons, the Houstons, the -Wellworths and the whole company of her well-meaning, but mistaken -friends to her feet. Old Mr. Wellworth would beg her pardon, Grace -would weep upon her neck. The family here would lavish affection upon -her. Nellie would busy herself in preparations for the approaching -nuptials. The returning soldiers, instead of meeting disappointment -and humiliation, would greet--the one his adored bride--the other his -beloved daughter. And confidence, love and joy would follow. - -But then a shadow of doubt would be cast upon that grave under the oaks -by the river. And quickly as the temptation came, it was repulsed. The -secret that Marguerite De Lancie had died to keep, her daughter would -not divulge to be clear of blame. “No, mother, no, beautiful and gifted -martyr, I can die with you, but I will never betray you! Come what will -I will be silent.” And compressing her sorrowful and bloodless lips and -clasping her hands, Margaret “took up her burden of life again.” - -“Well, Miss Helmstedt, I am waiting here for any observation you may -have to offer, I hope you will make no difficulty about the plan -proposed.” - -“No, Mrs. Houston, I am ready to go.” - -“Then, Miss Helmstedt, you had better order your servants to pack up -and prepare the boat. We wish you to leave this morning; for Colonel -Houston, who intends to see you safe to the island, and charge the -people there concerning you, has only this day at his disposal. -To-morrow he goes to Washington, to meet Ralph and Frank, who, we learn -by a letter received this morning, are on their way home.” - -This latter clause was an additional piece of cruelty, whether -intentional or only thoughtless on the part of the speaker. Ralph so -near home, and she dismissed in dishonor! Margaret felt it keenly; but -she only inquired in a low and tremulous voice: - -“And my father?” - -“Your father, it appears, is still detained by business in New York. -And now I will leave you to prepare for your removal.” - -Margaret rang for her servants, directed Hildreth to pack up her -clothing, and Forrest to make ready the boat, for they were going back -to the island. - -Her faithful attendants heard in sorrowful dismay. They had acutely -felt and deeply resented the indignities inflicted upon their young -mistress. - -An hour served for all necessary preparations, and then Margaret sent -and reported herself ready to depart. - -The family assembled in the hall to bid her good-by. When she took -leave of them they all looked grave and troubled. Old Mrs. Compton -kissed her on the cheek and prayed God to bless her. And the tears -rushed to Colonel Houston’s eyes when he offered his arm to the -suffering girl, whose pale face looked so much paler in contrast with -the mourning dress she still wore. - -They left the house, entered the boat, and in due time reached -Helmstedt’s Island. Colonel Houston took her to the mansion, called the -servants together, informed them that their master would be at home -in a few days; and that their young mistress had come to prepare for -his arrival, and to welcome him back to his house. That of course they -would obey her in all things. This explanation of Margaret’s presence -was so probable and satisfactory, that her people had nothing to do but -to express the great pleasure they felt in again receiving their young -lady. In taking leave of Margaret, Colonel Houston was very deeply -shaken. He could not say to her, “This act, Margaret, was the act of -the women of my family, who, you know, hold of right the disposal of -all such nice questions as these. I think they are wrong, but I cannot -with propriety interfere.” No, he could not denounce the doings of his -own wife and mother, but he took the hand of the maiden and said: - -“My dearest Margaret--my daughter, as I hoped once proudly to call -you--if ever you should need a friend, in any strait, for any purpose, -call on me. Will you, my dear girl?” - -Miss Helmstedt remained silent, with her eyes cast down in bitter -humiliation. - -“Say, Margaret Helmstedt, my dear, will you do this?” earnestly pleaded -Colonel Houston. - -Margaret looked up. The faltering voice, and the tears on the old -soldier’s cheeks touched her heart. - -“The bravest are ever the gentlest. God bless you, Colonel Houston. -Yes, if ever poor Margaret Helmstedt needs a friend, she will call upon -you,” she said, holding out her hand. - -The old man pressed it and hurried away. - -The next morning Colonel Houston set out for Washington city to meet -his son. - -The reunion took place at the City Hotel. - -Captain Houston was eager to proceed directly homeward; but a night’s -rest was necessary to the invalid soldier, and their departure was -fixed for the next day. Ralph Houston’s eagerness seemed not altogether -one of joy; through the evening his manner was often abstracted and -anxious. - -When the party had at last separated for the night, Ralph left his own -chamber and proceeded to that of his father. He found the veteran in -bed, and much surprised at the unseasonable visit. Ralph threw himself -into the easy-chair by his side, and opened the conversation by saying: - -“I did not wish to speak before a third person, even when that person -was my brother; but what then is this about Margaret? Mrs. Houston’s -letters drop strange, incomprehensible hints, and Margaret’s little -notes are constrained and sorrowful. Now, sir, what is the meaning of -it all?” - -“Ralph, it was to break the news to you that I came up hither to meet -you,” replied the colonel, solemnly. - -“The news! Great Heaven, sir, what news can there be that needs such -serious breaking? You told me that she was well!” exclaimed the -captain, changing color, and rising in his anxiety. - -“Ralph! Margaret Helmstedt is lost to you forever.” - -The soldier of a dozen battles dropped down into his chair as if -felled, and covered his face with his hands. - -“Ralph! be a man!” - -A deep groan from the laboring bosom was the only response. - -“Ralph! man! soldier! no faithless woman is worth such agony!” - -He neither moved nor spoke; but remained with his face buried in his -hands. - -“Ralph! my son! my brave son! Ralph!” exclaimed the old man, rising in -bed. - -The captain put out his hand and gently pressed him back upon his -pillow, saying in a calm, constrained voice: - -“Lie still; do not disturb yourself; it is over. You said that she was -lost to me, forever. She is married to another, then?” - -“I wish to Heaven that I knew she was; but I only know that she ought -to be.” - -“Tell me all!” - -The voice was so hollow, so forced, so unnatural, that Colonel Houston -could not under other circumstances have recognized it as his son’s. - -The old man commenced and related the circumstances as they were known -to himself. - -Captain Houston listened--his dreadful calmness as the story -progressed, startled first into eager attention, then into a breathless -straining for the end, and finally into astonishment and joy! And just -as the story came to the point of Margaret’s return from her mysterious -trip, with the denial that she was married, he broke forth with: - -“But you told me that she was lost to me forever! I see nothing to -justify such an announcement!” - -“Good Heaven, Ralph, you must be infatuated, man! But wait a moment.” -And taking up the thread of his narrative, he related how all Miss -Helmstedt’s friends, convinced of her guilt or folly, had deserted her. - -At this part of the recital Ralph Houston’s fine countenance darkened -with sorrow, indignation and scorn. - -“Poor dove!--but we can spare them. Go on, sir! go on!” - -“Ralph, you make me anxious; but listen further.” And the old man -related how Margaret, presenting herself at the communion table, had, -in the face of the whole congregation, been turned away. - -Ralph Houston leaped upon his feet with a rebounding spring that shook -the house, and stood, convulsed, livid, speechless, breathless with -rage. - -“Ralph! My God, you alarm me! Pray, pray govern yourself.” - -His breast labored, his face worked, his words came as if each syllable -was uttered with agony: “Who--did--this?” - -“Mr. Wellworth, once her friend!” - -“An old man and a clergyman! God knoweth that shall not save him when I -meet him.” - -“Ralph! Ralph! you are mad.” - -“And Margaret! How did she bear this? Oh! that I had been at her side. -Oh, God, that I had been at her side!” exclaimed the captain, striding -in rapid steps up and down the floor. - -“She felt it, of course, very acutely.” - -“My dove! my poor, wounded dove! But you all comforted and sustained -her, sir!” - -“Ralph, we thought it best to send her home to the island.” - -“What!” exclaimed Captain Houston, pausing suddenly in his rapid walk. - -“Yes, Ralph, we have sent her away home. We thought it best to do -so,” replied the colonel, generously suppressing the fact that it was -altogether the women’s work, against his own approval. - -Ralph Houston had gone through all the stages of displeasure, -indignation and fury. But he was past all that now! There are some -wrongs so deep as to still the stormiest natures into a stern calm more -to be feared than fury. - -“What, do you tell me that in this hour of her bitterest need you have -sent my promised bride from the protection of your roof?” he inquired, -walking to the bedside, and speaking in a deep, calm, stern tone, from -which all emotion seemed banished. - -“Ralph, we deemed it proper to do so.” - -“Then hear me! Margaret Helmstedt shall be my wife within twenty-four -hours; and, so help me God, at my utmost need, I will never cross -the threshold of Buzzard’s Bluff again!” exclaimed Captain Houston, -striding from the room and banging the door behind him. - -“Ralph! Ralph! my son, Ralph!” cried the colonel, starting up from -the bed, throwing on his dressing-gown and following him through the -passage. But Captain Houston had reached and locked himself in his own -chamber, where he remained in obdurate silence. - -The colonel went back to bed. - -Ralph Houston, in his room, consulted the timepiece. It was eleven -o’clock. He sat down to the table, drew writing materials before him, -and wrote the following hasty note to his betrothed: - - CITY HOTEL, WASHINGTON, October 6, 1815. - - MARGARET, MY BELOVED ONE:--Only this hour have I heard of your - sorrows. Had I known them sooner, I would have come from the uttermost - parts of the earth to your side. But be of good cheer, my own best - love. Within twenty-four hours I shall be with you to claim your hand, - and assume the precious privilege and sacred right of protecting you - against the world for life and death and eternity. - - Yours, - - RALPH HOUSTON. - -“‘It is written that for this cause shall a man leave father and mother -and cleave to his wife.’ I am glad of it. Let them go. For my poor, -storm-beaten dove, she shall be safe in my bosom,” said Ralph Houston, -his heart burning with deep resentment against his family, and yearning -with unutterable affection toward Margaret, as he sealed and directed -the letter, and hastened with it to the office to save the midnight -mail. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. MARTYRDOM. - - - “Mother, mother, up in heaven! - Stand upon the jasper sea - And be witness I have given - All the gifts required of me; - Hope that blessed me, bliss that crowned, - Love that left me with a wound, - Life itself that turned around.” - --MRS. BROWNING. - -An evil fatality seemed to attend all events connected with Margaret -Helmstedt. The letter mailed at midnight night, by being one minute too -late for the post, was delayed a whole week, and until it could do no -manner of good. - -The little packet schooner, _Canvas Back_, Captain Miles Tawney, from -Washington to Norfolk, on board which Ralph Houston, the next morning, -embarked, when but thirty-six hours out got aground below Blackstone’s -Island, where she remained fast for a week. - -And thus it unhappily chanced that Major Helmstedt, who reached -Washington, on his way home, a few days after the departure of the -Houstons from the city, and took passage in the first packet for -Buzzard’s Bluff, arrived thither the first of the returning soldiers. - -Having no knowledge or suspicion of the important events that had -occurred, he caused himself and his baggage to be landed upon the -beach, below the mansion, in which he naturally expected to find his -daughter dwelling in honor and security. - -Leaving his trunks in charge of a loitering negro--whom he had found -upon the sands, and who, to his hasty inquiries, had answered that all -the family were well--he hurried up to the house. - -He was met at the door by a servant, who, with ominous formality, -ushered him into the parlor, and retreated to call his mistress. - -Mrs. Houston soon entered, with a pale face, trembling frame, and a -half-frightened, half-threatening aspect, that greatly surprised and -perplexed Major Helmstedt, who however, arose with stately courtesy to -receive and hand the lady to a chair. - -After respectfully saluting and seating his hostess, he said: - -“My daughter Margaret, madam--I hope she is well?” - -“Well, I am sure I hope so, too; but Margaret is not with us!” replied -the little lady, looking more frightened and more threatening than -before. - -“How, madam, Margaret not with you?” exclaimed Major Helmstedt, in -astonishment, that was not free from alarm. - -“No, sir. You must listen to me, major--it could not be helped,” -replied Nellie, who straightway began, and with a manner -half-deprecating and half-defiant, related the story of Margaret’s -indiscretions, humiliations, and final expulsion. - -Major Helmstedt listened with a mighty self-control. No muscle of his -iron countenance moved. When she had concluded, he arose, with a cold -and haughty manner. - -“Slanders, madam--slanders all! I can say no more to a lady, however -unworthy of the courtesy due to her sex. But I shall know how to call -the men of her family to a strict account for this insult.” And, -throwing his hat upon his head, he strode from the room. - -“Major Helmstedt--Major Helmstedt! Come back, sir. Don’t go; you must -please to listen to me,” cried Nellie, running after him, the principle -of fear now quite predominating over that of defiance. - -But the outraged father, without deigning a word or look of reply, -hurried onward toward the beach. - -Nellie, in great alarm, dispatched a servant in haste after him, to -beseech him, in her name, to return and stay to dinner--or, if he would -not honor her so far, at least to accept the use of a carriage, or a -boat, to convey him whithersoever he wished to go. - -But Major Helmstedt, with arrogant scorn, repulsed all these offers. -Throwing a half guinea to the negro to take temporary charge of his -trunks, he strode on his way, following the windings of the waterside -road for many miles, until late in the afternoon he reached Belleview, -whence he intended to take a boat to the island. - -His cause of indignation was reasonable, and his rage increased with -time and reflection. That Margaret had been foully wronged by the -Houstons he from his deepest convictions believed. That the charges -brought against her had the slightest foundation in fact, he could not -for a moment credit. All his own intimate knowledge of his pure-hearted -child, from her earliest infancy to the day when he left her in Mrs. -Houston’s care, conclusively contradicted these calumnies. But that, -for some reason or other, unconfessed, the Houstons wished to break -off the contemplated alliance with his family he felt assured. And -that his daughter’s betrothed was in correspondence with Mrs. Houston, -and in connivance with her plans, he had been left to believe, by -the incoherence, if not by the intentional misrepresentations, of -Nellie’s statement. That they should wish, without just cause, to -break the engagement with his daughter, was both dishonorable and -dishonoring--that they should attempt this through such means, was -scandalous and insulting to the last degree. That Ralph Houston should -be either an active or a passive party to this plan, was an offense -only to be satisfied by the blood of the offender. His pride in an old, -untainted name, not less than his affection for his only daughter, was -wounded to the very quick. - -There seemed but one remedy--it was to be found only in “the bloody -code,” miscalled “of honor”--the code which required a man to wash out -any real or fancied offense in the life-stream of the offender; the -code which often made an honorable man responsible, with his life, for -careless words uttered by the women of his family; that code which now -enjoined Philip Helmstedt to seek the life of his daughter’s betrothed, -his intended son-in-law, his brother-in-arms. Nor was this all. The -feeling that prompted Major Helmstedt was not only that of an affronted -gentleman, who deems it necessary to defend in the duel his assailed -manhood--it was much more--it was the blood-thirsty rage of a scornful -and arrogant man, whose honor had been wounded in the most vulnerable -place, through the only woman of his name, his one fair daughter, -who had been by her betrothed and his family rejected, insulted, and -expelled from their house, branded with indelible shame. - -“Ralph Houston must die!” - -He said it with remorseless resolution, with grim satisfaction, and in -his heart devoted the souls of his purposed victim and all his family -to the infernal deities. - -In this evil mood, and in an evil hour, Major Helmstedt unhappily -arrived at Belleview, and, still more unhappily, there met Ralph, who, -in pursuance of his vow never to set foot upon Buzzard’s Bluff again, -had that morning landed at the village, with the intention there to -engage a boat to take him to Helmstedt’s Island, whither he was going -to seek Margaret. - -It was in the principal street of the village, and before the only -hotel that they chanced to meet. - -Ralph advanced with eager joy to greet his father-in-law. - -But Major Helmstedt’s mad and blind rage forestalled and rendered -impossible all friendly words or explanations. - -How he assailed and insulted Ralph Houston; how he hurled bitter scorn, -taunt, and defiance in his teeth how in the presence of the gathering -crowd, he charged falsehood, treachery, and cowardice upon him; how, -to cap the climax of insult, the infuriate pulled off his glove and -cast it sharply into the face of the young man; how, in short, he -irremediably forced upon Ralph a quarrel, which the latter was, upon -all accounts, most unwilling to take up, would be as painful, as -needless, to detail at large. - -Suffice it to say, that the circumstances of the case, and the public -sentiment of the day considered, he left the young soldier, as a man of -honor, no possible alternative but to accept his challenge. - -“‘Needs must when the devil drives;’ and, as there is no honorable -means of avoiding, I must meet this madman and receive his shot. I am -not, however, obliged to return it. No code of honor can compel me to -fire upon my Margaret’s father,” thought Ralph. Then aloud he said: - -“Very well, sir; my brother Frank has doubtless by this time reached -home, and will, with any friend whom you may appoint, arrange the terms -of the meeting;” and, lifting his hat, Ralph Houston, “more in sorrow -than in anger,” turned away. - -“There is no honorable way of escaping it, Frank, else be sure that I -should not give him this meeting. As it is, I must receive his fire; -but, so help me Heaven; nothing shall induce me to return it,” said -Captain Houston, as he talked over the matter with his brother that -evening in the private parlor of the little inn at Belleview. - -“Then, without a thought of defending yourself, you will stand up as -a mark to be shot at by the best marksman in the country? You will be -murdered! just simply murdered!” replied the younger man, in sorrow and -disgust. - -“There is no help for it, Frank. I must meet him, must receive his -fire, and will not return it!” - -“You will fall,” said the youth, in a voice of despair. - -“Probably. And if I do, Frank, go to my dearest Margaret and bear to -her my last words. Tell her that I never so sinned against our mutual -faith as for one instant to doubt her perfect purity; tell her that -I was on my way to take her to my heart, to give her my name and to -defend her against the world, when this fatal quarrel was forced upon -me; tell her that I never fired upon her father, but that I died with -her name upon my lips and her love within my heart. If I fall, as I -probably shall, will you tell my widowed bride this?” - -“I will! I will!” exclaimed Frank, in a voice of deep emotion. - -Meanwhile the innocent and most unhappy cause of the impending duel had -passed a miserable week on the solitary island, in dread anticipation -of her father’s and her lover’s return, and with no one near her to -breathe one hopeful, comforting, or sustaining word to her fainting -heart. - -It was late on the evening of the day of her father’s arrival that -she sat alone on the front piazza of her solitary dwelling, wrapped -in despairing thought, yet with every nerve acute with involuntary -vigilance, when, amid the low, musical semi-silence of the autumnal -night, the sound of a boat, pushed gratingly up upon the gravelly -beach, reached her listening ear. - -And while she still watched and waited in breathless anxiety, she -perceived by the clear starlight the tall figure of a man, dressed in -the blue and buff uniform of an American officer, and in whose stature, -air, and gait she recognized her father, approaching the house. - -In joy, but still more in fear, she arose and hurried to meet him. But -so terrible was the trouble of her mind and the agitation of her frame, -that she could scarcely falter forth her inaudible words of welcome -before she sank exhausted in his arms. - -In silence the soldier lifted her up, noticing even then how very light -was her wasted frame; in silence he kissed her cold lips, and bore her -onward to the house, and into her mother’s favorite parlor which was -already lighted up, and where he placed her in an easy-chair. She sank -back half fainting, while he stood and looked upon her, and saw how -changed she was. - -Her attenuated form, her emaciated face, with its cavernous eyes, -hollow cheeks and temples, and pallid forehead, in fearful contrast -with her flowing black locks and mourning dress, gave her the -appearance of a girl in the very last stage of consumption. Yet this -was the work only of calumny, persecution, and abandonment. - -Some one should write a book on Unindicted Homicides. - -While Major Helmstedt gazed in bitterness of heart upon this beautiful -wreck of his fair, only daughter, she fixed her despairing eyes upon -him, and said: - -“My father, do you wonder to find me here!” - -For answer, he stooped and kissed her forehead. - -“Father, my heart bleeds for you. This is a sorrowful welcome home for -the returning soldier.” - -“Trouble not yourself about me, my child. Your own wrongs are enough, -and more than enough, to engage your thoughts. I know those wrongs, -and, by the soul of your mother, they shall be terribly avenged!” -said Major Helmstedt, in a low, deep, stern voice of relentless -determination. - -“Father, oh, God! what do you mean?” exclaimed Margaret, in alarm. - -“I mean, my much injured child, that every tear they have caused you to -shed, shall be balanced by a drop of heart’s blood, though it should -drain the veins of all who bear the name of Houston!” - -“Oh, Heaven of heavens, my father!” cried Margaret, wringing her pale -hands in the extremity of terror. Then suddenly catching the first hope -that came, she said: - -“But you cannot war upon women.” - -“Upon all men that bear the name of Houston, then! Yet did not they -spare to war upon women--or rather worse, upon one poor, defenseless -girl! Enough! they shall bitterly repay it!” - -“But father! my father! it was not the men; they were ever kind to -me. It was the women of the family, and even they were deceived by -appearances,” pleaded Margaret. - -“It is you who are deceived! Mrs. Houston acted in concert with her -husband and his son!” - -“Ralph? never, never, my father. My life, my soul, upon Ralph’s -fidelity!” exclaimed Margaret, as a warm glow of loving faith flowed -into and transfigured to angelic beauty her pale face. - -“Miss Helmstedt, you are a fond and foolish girl, with all your sex’s -weak credulity. It is precisely Ralph Houston whom I shall hold to be -the most responsible party in this affair!” - -“Oh! my God!” - -These words were wailed forth in such a tone of utter despair, and -were accompanied by such a sudden blanching and sharpening of all her -features, that Major Helmstedt in his turn became alarmed, and with -what diplomacy he was master of, endeavored to modify the impression -that he had given. But his palpable efforts only confirmed Margaret in -her suspicion that he intended to challenge Ralph, and made her more -wary and watchful to ascertain if this really were his purpose, so -that, if possible, she might prevent this meeting. That the challenge -had been already given she did not even suspect. - -But from this moment the father and daughter were secretly arrayed -against each other; he to conceal from her the impending duel; she -to discover and prevent the meeting. And while he talked to her with -a view of gradually doing away the impression that his first violent -words had made upon her mind, she watched his countenance narrowly, -keeping the while her own counsel. But it was not entirely the wish to -conceal her own anguish of doubt and anxiety, but affectionate interest -in him, that caused her at length to say: - -“But, my dear father, you are just off a long, harassing journey; you -are, indeed, greatly exhausted; your countenance is quite haggard; you -are needing rest and refreshment. Let me go now and give the orders, -while you occupy my sofa. Say, what shall I bring you, dear father?” - -“Nothing, nothing, Margaret; I cannot----” began Major Helmstedt; but -then suddenly reflecting, he said: “Yes, you may send me up a cup of -coffee, and any trifle with it that may be at hand. No, I thank you, -Margaret, you need not draw the sofa forward. I am going to my study, -where I have letters to write. Send the refreshments thither. And -send--let me see--yes! send Forrest to me.” - -“Very well, my dear father,” replied the maiden, leaving the room. -“‘Letters to write!’ ‘letters to write!’ and ‘send Forrest.’ So late -at night, and just as he has returned home, oh, my soul!” she cried, -within herself, as she went into the kitchen to give her orders. - -When the tray was ready, Forrest was told to take it up to his master’s -study. - -Margaret, after a little hesitation, drawn by her strong anxiety, -followed, her light footsteps on the stairs and through the hall waking -no echo. As she approached the door of her father’s study, she heard -the words: - -“Forrest, take this case of pistols downstairs and thoroughly clean -them; let no one see what you are about. Then have a boat--the soundest -in the fleet--ready to take me to the landing below the burial ground, -at Plover’s Point. Do you prepare to go with me, and--listen farther. -At about daybreak to-morrow, a gentleman will arrive hither. Be on the -watch, and quietly bring him to this room. Have breakfast served for us -here, and the boat ready for our departure when we rise from the table. -And mind, execute all these orders in strict privacy, and breathe no -word of their purport to any living creature. Do you understand?” - -“I think I do, sir,” replied the astonished negro, who imperfectly -comprehended the affair. - -Margaret knew all now. Her father had challenged her betrothed. The -only two beings whom she loved supremely on this earth, were in a few -hours hence to meet in mortal combat. - -With a heart that seemed paralyzed within her suffocating bosom, she -crept, reeling, to her own chamber, and with the habitual instinct -of soliciting Divine counsel and assistance, she sank upon her knees -beside the bed. But no petition escaped her icy lips, or even took -the form of words in her paralyzed brain; her intellect seemed frozen -with horror; and her only form of prayer was the eloquent, mute -attitude, and the intense yearning of the suffering heart after the All -Merciful’s help and pity. She remained many minutes in this posture of -silent prayer, before the power of reflection and of language returned -to her, and even then her only cry was: - -“Oh, God of pity, have mercy on them! Oh, God of strength, help and -save!” - -Then still looking to the Lord for guidance, she tried to think what -was best to be done. It was now ten o’clock. Day would break at four. -There were but six hours of a night to do all, if anything could be -done. But what, indeed, could she do? Cut off by the bay from all the -rest of the world, and with fifteen miles of water between herself -and the nearest magistrate, what could the miserable maiden do to -prevent this duel between her father and her lover? To a religious -heart filled to overflowing with love and grief, and resolved upon -risking everything for the safety of the beloved, almost all things are -possible. Her first resolution was the nearly hopeless one of going -to her father and beseeching him to abandon his purpose. And if that -failed, she had in reverse a final, almost desperate determination. But -there was not a moment to be lost. - -Still mentally invoking Divine aid, she arose and went to the door of -her father’s study. It was closed; but turning the latch very softly, -she entered unperceived. - -Major Helmstedt sat at his table, so deeply absorbed in writing as -not to be conscious of her presence, although his face was toward the -door. That face was haggard with care, and those keen, strong eyes that -followed the rapid gliding of his pen over the paper were strained with -anxiety. So profound was his absorption in his work that the candles -remained unsnuffed and burning with a murky and lurid light, and the -cup of coffee on his table sat cold and untouched. - -Margaret approached and looked over his shoulder. - -It was his last will and testament that he was engaged in preparing. - -The sight thrilled his daughter with a new horror. Meekly she crept -to his side and softly laid her hand upon his shoulder, and gently -murmured: - -“Father, my dear father!” - -He looked up suddenly, and in some confusion. - -“What, Margo! not asleep yet, my girl? This is a late hour for young -eyes to be open. And yet I am glad that you came to bid me good-night -before retiring. It was affectionate of you, Margo,” he said, laying -down his pen, putting a blotter over his writing, and then drawing -her to his side in a close embrace--“yes, it was affectionate of you, -Margo; but ah, little one, no daughter loves as a true wife does. I -have been thinking of your mother, dear.” - -“Think of her still, my father,” replied the maiden, in a voice of -thrilling solemnity. - -Major Helmstedt’s countenance changed, but, controlling himself, he -pressed a kiss upon his daughter’s brow, and said: - -“Well, well, I will not keep you up. God bless you, my child, though I -cannot. Good-night!” and with another kiss he would have dismissed her. -But, softly laying her hand upon his right hand, she asked, in a voice -thrilling with earnestness: - -“Oh, my father, what is this that you are about to do?” - -“Margaret, no prying into my private affairs--I will not suffer it!” -exclaimed Major Helmstedt, in disturbed voice. - -“My father, there is no need of prying; I know all! Providence, for His -good purposes, has given the knowledge into my hands. Oh, did you think -that He would permit this terrible thing to go on uninterruptedly to -its bloody termination?” - -“What mean you, girl?” - -“Father, forgive me; but I overheard and understood your orders to -Forrest.” - -“By my soul, Margaret, this is perfectly insufferable!” exclaimed Major -Helmstedt, starting up, and then sinking back into his chair. - -But softly and suddenly Margaret dropped at his feet, clasped his -knees, and in a voice freighted with her heart’s insupportable anguish, -cried: - -“Father! my father! hear me! hear me! hear your own lost Marguerite’s -heartbroken child, and do not make her orphaned and widowed in one -hour!” - -“Orphaned and widowed in one hour!” - -“Yes, yes, and most cruelly so, by the mutual act of her father and her -husband.” - -“By her father and husband?” - -“Yes, yes. Am I not Ralph Houston’s promised, sworn wife? Oh, my -father!” - -“Death, girl! You call yourself his promised wife; you pray me to stay -my hand, nor avenge your wrongs, nor vindicate my own honor; you who -have been calumniated, insulted, and expelled from his house?” - -“Not by him, father! not with his knowledge or consent! Oh, never! -never! My life, my soul, upon his stainless faith!” - -“My daughter, rise and leave, I command you,” said Major Helmstedt, -giving his hand to assist her. - -But she clung to his knees and groveled at his feet, crying: - -“Father! father! pardon and hear me; hear me for my dead mother’s sake! -hear your Marguerite’s orphan girl! do not make her a widow before -she is a wife! My father, do not, oh, do not meet my betrothed in a -duel! He was your oldest friend, your brother-in-arms, your promised -son; he has stood by your side in many a well-fought battle; in camp -and field you two have shared together the dangers and glories of the -war. How can you meet as mortal foes? Crowned with victory, blessed -with peace, you were both coming home--you to your only daughter, he -to his promised bride--both to a devoted girl, who would have laid -out her life to make your mutual fireside happy; but whose heart you -are about to break! Oh, how can you do this most cruel deed? Oh! it -is so horrible! so horrible, that you two should thus meet. Dueling -is wicked, but this is worse than dueling! Murder is atrocious, but -this is worse than murder! This is parricide! this is the meeting of -a father and son, armed each against the other’s life! A father and a -son!” - -“Son! no son or son-in-law of mine, if that is what you mean.” - -“Father, father, do not say so! He is the sworn husband of your only -child. My hand, with your consent, was placed in his by my dying -mother’s hand. He clasped my fingers closely, promising never to -forsake me! A promise made to the living in the presence of the dying! -A promise that he has never retracted, and wishes never to retract. My -soul’s salvation upon Ralph Houston’s honor!” - -“Margaret Helmstedt! put the last seal to my mortification, and tell me -that you love this man--this man whose family has spurned you!” - -“I love him--for life, and death, and eternity!” she replied, in a tone -vibrating with earnestness. - -“You speak your own degradation, miserable girl.” - -“This is no time, Heaven knows, for the cowardice of girlish shame. -Father, I love him! For three long years I have believed myself his -destined wife. Long before our betrothal, as far back, or farther, -perhaps, than memory reaches, I loved him, and knew that he loved me, -and felt that in some strange way I belonged finally to him. Long, -long before I ever heard of courtship, betrothal, or marriage, I felt -in my deepest heart--and knew he felt it too--that Ralph was my final -proprietor and prince, that I, at last and forever, was his own little -Margaret--ay! as your Marguerite was yours, my father. And always and -ever, in all the changes of our life, in joy and in sorrow, in presence -and in absence, I seemed to repose sweetly in his heart as a little -bird in its nest, loving him too quietly and securely to know how -deeply and strongly. But oh, my father, it has remained for the anguish -of this day to teach me how, above all creatures, I love my promised -husband, even as my mother loved hers. The blow that reaches Ralph’s -heart would break my own. Father, I can conceive this globe upon which -we live, with all its seas and continents, its mountains, plains and -cities, its whole teeming life, collapsing and sinking out of sight -through space, and yet myself continuing to live, somewhere, in some -sphere of being; but, my father, I cannot conceive of Ralph’s death and -my own continued life, anywhere, as possible! for there, at that point, -all sinks into darkness, chaos, annihilation! Swift madness or death -would follow his loss! Oh, my father, say, is he not my husband? Oh, my -father, will you make your child a widow, a widow by her father’s hand?” - -“Margaret, this is the very infatuation of passion!” - -“Passion! Well, since grief and terror and despair have made my bosom -so stormy, you may call it so! else never should my lifelong, quiet, -contented attachment to Ralph be termed a passion, as if it were the -feverish caprice of yesterday. But oh, Heaven! all this time you are -not answering me. You do not promise that you will not meet him. -Father, I cannot die of grief, else had I long since been lying -beside your other Marguerite! But I feel that I may go mad, and that -soon. Already reason reels with dwelling on this impending duel! with -the thought that a few hours hence----! Father, if you would not have -your Marguerite’s child go mad, curse the author of her being, and lay -desperate hands upon her own life, forgo this duel! do not make her a -widowed bride!” - -“Wretched girl, it were better that you were dead, for come what may, -Margaret, honor must be saved.” - -“Then you will kill him! My father will kill my husband!” - -“Why do you harp upon this subject forever? Shall I not equally risk my -own life?” - -“No, no, no! he will never risk hurting a hair of your head. My life -and soul upon it, he will fire into the air! I know and feel what he -will do, here, deep in my heart. I know and feel what has been done. -Father, you met him in your blind rage, you gave him no chance of -explanation, but goaded and taunted, and drove him to the point of -accepting your challenge. You will meet him, you will murder him! and -I, oh, I shall go mad, and curse the father that gave me life, and him -death!” she said, starting up and wildly traversing the floor. - -“‘Still waters run deep!’ Who would have supposed this quiet maiden -had inherited all Marguerite De Lancie’s strength of feeling?” thought -Major Helmstedt, as in a deep trouble he watched his daughter’s -distracted walk. - -Suddenly, as that latent and final resolution, before mentioned, -recurred to her mind, she paused, and came up to her father’s side, and -said: - -“Father, this thing must go no farther!” - -“What mean you, Margaret?” - -“This duel must not take place.” - -“What absurdity--it must come off! Let all be lost so honor is saved!” - -“Then listen well to me, my father,” she said, in the long, deep, quiet -tone of fixed determination; “this duel shall not take place!” - -“Girl, you are mad. ‘Shall not?’” - -“Shall not, my father!” - -“What preposterous absurdity! Who will prevent it?” - -“I will!” - -“You! Come, that is best of all. How do you propose to do it, fair -daughter?” - -“I shall lay the whole matter before the nearest magistrate!” - -“Poor girl, if I did not pity you so deeply, I should smile at your -folly. Why, Margaret, the nearest magistrate is fifteen miles off. It -is now eleven o’clock at night, and the proposed meeting takes place at -five in the morning!” - -“Then the more reason for haste, my father, to save you from a crime. I -will order a boat and depart immediately,” said Margaret, going to the -bell-rope and giving it a sudden peremptory pull. - -“Oh, then I see that this will not do. You are desperate, you are -dangerous, you must be restrained,” said Major Helmstedt, rising and -approaching his daughter. - -“Father, what mean you now? You would not--you, a gentleman, an -officer, would not lay violent hands on your daughter?” she said, -shrinking away in amazement. - -“In an exigency of this kind my daughter leaves me no alternative.” - -“No, no! You would not use force to hinder me in the discharge of a -sacred duty?” - -“Margaret, no more words. Come to your room,” he said, taking her by -the arm, and with gentle force conducting her to the door of her own -chamber, in which he locked her securely. - -Knowing resistance to be both vain and unbecoming, Margaret had, for -the time, quietly submitted. She remained sitting motionless in the -chair in which he had placed her, until she heard his retreating -footsteps pause at the door of his study, and heard him enter and lock -the door behind him. - -Then she arose and stepped lightly over the carpeted floor, and looked -from the front window out upon the night. - -A dark, brilliant starlight night, with a fresh wind that swayed the -branches of the trees. - -Almost omnipotent is the religious heart; willing to sink all things -for the salvation of the beloved. - -The means of escape, and of preventing the duel, were quickly devised -by her suggestive mind. Her chamber was on the second floor front. -A grape vine of nearly twenty years’ growth reached her window, and -climbed up its side and over its top. The intertwined and knotted -branches, thick as a man’s wrist, and strong as a cable, presented a -means of descent safe and easy as that of a staircase. And once free of -the house, the course of the brave girl was clear. - -There was no time to be lost. It was now half-past eleven o’clock. The -household, except her father and the servant whom he had ordered to -watch with him, was wrapped in sleep. Her father she knew to be deeply -engaged in writing his will in the study. Forrest she supposed to be -employed in cleaning the pistols in the back kitchen. - -There was nothing then to interrupt her escape but the dogs, who before -recognizing would surely break out upon her. But there was little to -dread from that circumstance. The barking of the dogs was no unusual -event of the night. Any noise in nature, the footstep of a negro -walking out, the spring of a startled squirrel, the falling of a nut or -a pine cone, was frequently enough to arouse their jealous vigilance, -and provoke a canine concert. Only when the barking was very prolonged -was attention usually aroused. Of this contingency there was no danger. -They would probably break out in a furious onslaught, recognize her and -be still. - -But there was another serious difficulty. Margaret was very feeble; -weeks of mental anguish, with the consequent loss of appetite and -loss of sleep, had so exhausted her physical nature that not all the -proverbial power of the mind over the body, the spirit over the flesh, -could impart to her sufficient strength for an undertaking, that, in -her stronger days, would have taxed her energies to the utmost. A -restorative was absolutely necessary. A few drops of distilled lavender -water--a favorite country cordial--gave her a fictitious strength. - -Then tying on her black velvet hood, and her short black camlet riding -cloak, she prepared to depart. First, she bolted the door on the inside -that her father might not enter her room to ascertain her absence. Then -she softly hoisted the window, and with perfect ease crossed the low -sill and stepped upon the friendly vine, where she remained standing -while she let down the window and closed the blinds. - -Thus having restored everything to its usual order, she commenced her -descent. Holding to the vines, stepping cautiously, and letting herself -down slowly, she at length reached the ground safely. - -Now for the dogs. But they were quiet. Their quick instincts were truer -than her fears, and she passed on undisturbed. - -How still and brilliant the starlight night. No sound but the sighing -of the wind in the trees, and the trilling of the insects that wake at -eve to chirp till day; and all distinctly, yet darkly visible, like a -scene clearly drawn in Indian ink upon a gray ground. - -She passed down through the garden, the orchard, and the stubble field -to the beach, where her little sailboat, _The Pearl Shell_, lay. - -For the trip that she contemplated of fifteen miles up the mouth of -the river, a rowboat would have been far the safer. But Margaret was -too weak for such prolonged labor as the management of the oar for two -or three hours must necessitate. The sailboat would only require the -trifling exertion of holding the tiller, and occasionally shifting the -sails. Happily, the tide was in and just about to turn; the boat was, -therefore, afloat, though chained to the boathouse, and so needed no -exertion to push her off. Margaret went on board, untied the tiller, -hoisted the sails, unlocked the chain and cast loose. She had but time -to spring and seize the tiller before the wind filled the sails and the -boat glided from the shore. - -So far all had gone marvelously well. Let who would discover her escape -now, she was safe from pursuit. Let who would follow, she could not -be overtaken. Her boat was beyond measure the swiftest sailer of the -island fleet. True, before this fresh wind the boat might capsize, -especially as there was no one to manage it except herself, who to -shift the sails must sometimes let go the tiller. But Margaret was -without selfish, personal fear; her purpose was high, and had been -so far providentially favored; she would, therefore, believe in no -accidents, but trust in God. - -And what a strange scene was this, in which the solitary girl-mariner -was out upon the lonely sea. - -The broad canopy of heaven, of that deep, dark, intense blue of -cloudless night, was thickly studded with myriads of stars, whose -reflection in the mirror of the sea seemed other living stars -disporting themselves amid the waves. Far away over the wide waters, -darker lines upon the dark sea suggested the distant shores and -headlands of the main. Straight before her flying boat, two black -points, miles apart, indicated the entrance to the mouth of the Potomac -River. She steered for the lower, or Smith’s Point. - -Under happier circumstances, the lonely night ride over the dark waters -would have charmed the fancy of the fearless and adventurous girl. Now -her only emotion was one of anxiety and haste. Taking Smith’s Point -for her “polar star,” she gave all her sail to the wind. The boat flew -over the water. I dare scarcely say in how marvelously short a time she -reached this cape. This was the longest part of her voyage. - -Hugging the Northumberland coast, she soon reached and doubled Plover’s -Point, and ran up into the little cove, the usual landing place, and -pushed her boat upon the sands. - -She next sprang out, secured the boat to a post, and began to climb the -steep bank, that was thickly covered with a growth of pines, from which -the place took its name. - -Here danger of another and more appalling form threatened her. Fugitive -slaves, than whom a more dangerous banditti can nowhere be found, were -known to infest this coast, where by day they hid in caves and holes, -and by night prowled about like wild beasts in search of food or prey. -More than to meet the wildcat or the wolf, that were not yet banished -from these woods, the maiden dreaded to encounter one of these famished -and desperate human beasts! Lifting her heart in prayer to God for -assistance, she passed courageously on her dark and dangerous way; -starting at the sound of her own light footsteps upon some crackling, -fallen branch, and holding her breath at the slight noise made by the -moving of a rabbit or a bird in the foliage. At last she reached the -summit of the wooded hill, and came out of the pine thicket on to the -meadow. Then there was a fence to climb, a field to cross, and a gate -to open before she reached the wooded lawn fronting the house. There -the last peril, that of the watchdogs, awaited her. One mastiff barked -furiously as she approached the gate; as she opened it, the whole pack -broke in full cry upon her. - -She paused and stood still, holding out one hand, and saying, gently: - -“Why, Ponto! Why, Fido! What is the matter, good boys?” - -The two foremost recognized and fawned upon her, and under their -protection, as it were, she walked on through the excited pack, that, -one by one, dropped gently under her influence, and walked quietly by -her side. - -So she reached the front of the house, passed up the piazza, and rang -the bell. Peal upon peal she rung before she could make any one in that -quiet house hear. - -At last, however, an upper window was thrown up, and the voice of Dr. -Hartley asked: - -“Who’s there?” - -“It is I, Dr. Hartley. It is I, Margaret Helmstedt! come to you on a -matter of life and death!” - -“You! You, Margaret! You, at this hour! I am lost in wonder!” - -“Oh, come down, quickly, quickly, or it will be too late!” - -Evidently believing this to be an imminent necessity for his -professional services, the doctor drew in his head, let down the -window, hastily donned his apparel, and came down to admit his visitor. - -Leading her into the sitting-room, he said: - -“Now, my dear, who is ill? And what, in the name of all the saints, -was the necessity of your coming out at this time of night with the -messenger?” - -“Dr. Hartley, look at me well. I came with no messenger. I left the -island at midnight, and crossed the bay, and came up the river alone.” - -“Good Heaven, Miss Helmstedt! Margaret! what is it you tell me? What -has happened?” he asked, terrified at the strange words and the ghastly -looks of the girl. - -“Dr. Hartley, my father has challenged Ralph Houston. They meet this -morning, in the woods above the family burial ground. I escaped from -the room in which my father had locked me, and came to give information -to the authorities, that they may, if possible, stop this duel. What -I desire particularly of your kindness is that you will go with me to -Squire Johnson’s, that I may lodge the necessary complaint. I regret -to ask you to take this trouble; but I myself do not know the way to -Squire Johnson’s house.” - -“Margaret, my dear, I am exceedingly grieved to hear what you have told -me. How did this happen? What was the occasion of it?” - -“Oh, sir, spare me! in mercy spare me! There is, indeed, no time to -tell you now. What we are to do should be done quickly. They meet very, -very early this morning.” - -“Very well, Margaret. There is no necessity for your going to Squire -Johnson’s, for, indeed, you are too much exhausted for the ride. And I -am now suffering too severely with rheumatism to bear the journey. But -I will do better. I will put a servant on a swift horse, and dispatch a -note that will bring Mr. Johnson hither. We can go hence to the dueling -ground and prevent the meeting. Will not that be best?” - -“So that we are in time--anything, sir.” - -Dr. Hartley then went out to rouse the boy whom he purposed to send, -and after a few moments returned, and while the latter was saddling -the horse, he wrote the note, so that in ten minutes the messenger was -dispatched on his errand. - -Day was now breaking, and the house servants were all astir. One of -them came in to make the fire in the parlor fireplace, and Dr. Hartley -gave orders for an early breakfast to be prepared for his weary guest. - -Missing Clare from her customary morning haunts, Margaret ventured to -inquire if she were in good health. - -At the mention of his daughter’s name, Dr. Hartley recollected now, for -the first time, that there might be some good reason for treating his -young visitor with rebuking coldness, and he answered, with distant -politeness, that Clare had gone to pay her promised visit to her -friends at Fort Warburton. - -Margaret bore this change of manner in her host with her usual patient -resignation. And when the cloth was laid, and breakfast was placed upon -the table, and the doctor, with professional authority rather than with -hospitable kindness, insisted that the exhausted girl should partake of -some refreshment, she meekly complied, and forced herself to swallow a -cup of coffee, though she could constrain nature no farther. - -They had scarcely risen from the table, before the messenger returned -with the news that Squire Johnson had left home for Washington City, -and would be absent for several days. - -“Oh, Heaven of heavens! What now can be done?” exclaimed Margaret, in -anguish. - -“Nothing can be done by compulsion, of course, but something may be -accomplished by persuasion. I will go with you, Miss Helmstedt, to the -ground, and use every friendly exertion to effect an adjustment of the -difficulties between these antagonists,” said Dr. Hartley. - -“Oh, then, sir, let us hasten at once. No time is to be lost!” cried -Margaret, in the very extremity of anxiety. - -“It is but a short distance, Miss Helmstedt. Doubtless we shall be in -full time,” replied the doctor, buttoning up, his coat and taking down -his hat from the peg. - -Margaret had already, with trembling fingers, tied on her hood. - -They immediately left the house. - -“What time did you say they met, Miss Helmstedt?” - -“I said, ‘very early,’ sir. Alas, I do not know the time to the hour. I -fear, I fear--oh, let us hasten, sir.” - -“It is but five o’clock, Margaret, and the distance is short,” said the -doctor, beginning to pity her distress. - -“Oh, God! perhaps it was at five they were to meet. Oh, hasten!” - -Their way was first through the lawn, then through the stubble field, -then into the copse wood that gradually merged in the thick forest -behind the burial ground. - -“Do you know the exact spot of the purposed meeting, Margaret?” -inquired the doctor. - -“Oh, no, sir, I do not. I only know that my father gave orders for the -boat to be in readiness to take him (and his second, of course) to -the beach below the burial ground at this point. Now, as the beach is -narrow, and the burial ground too sacred a place for such a purpose, I -thought of these woods above it.” - -“Exactly; and there is a natural opening, a sort of level glade, on the -top of this wooded hill, that I think likely to be the place selected. -We will push forward to that spot.” - -They hurried on. A walk of five minutes brought them to within the -sound of voices, that convinced them that they were near the dueling -ground. - -A few more rapid steps led them to a small, level, open glade, on the -summit of the wooded hill. - -Oh, Heaven of heavens! What a sight to meet the eyes of a daughter and -a promised wife! - -The ground was already marked off. In the drawing of the lots it seemed -that the best position had fallen to her father, for he stood with his -back to the rising sun, which shone full into the face of Ralph, at the -same time dazzling his eyes, and making him the fairest mark for the -best marksman in the country. - -At right angles with the principals stood the seconds, one of them -having a handkerchief held in his hand, while the other prepared to -give the word. - -Margaret had not seen her betrothed for three years, and now, oh, agony -insupportable, to meet him thus! - -So absorbed were the duelists in the business upon which they met, -and so quietly had she and her escort stolen upon the scene, that the -antagonists had perceived no addition to their party, but went on with -their bloody purpose. - -At the very entrance of the newcomers upon the scene, the second of -Major Helmstedt gave the word: - -“One--two--three--fire!” Frank Houston dropped the handkerchief, Ralph -fired into the air, and Margaret, springing forward, struck up the -pistol of her father, so that it was discharged harmlessly into the -upper branches of an old tree. - -All this transpired in a single instant of time, so suddenly and -unexpectedly, that until it was over no one knew what had happened. - -Then followed a scene of confusion difficult or impossible to describe. - -Major Helmstedt was the first to speak. Shaking Margaret’s hand from -his arm, he demanded, in a voice of concentrated rage: - -“Miss Helmstedt, what is the meaning of this? How durst you come -hither?” - -Margaret, dropping upon her knees between the combatants and lifting up -both arms, exclaimed: - -“Oh, father! father! Oh, Ralph! Ralph! bury your bullets in this broken -heart if you will, but do not point your weapons against each other!” - -“Margaret, my beloved!” began Ralph Houston, springing to raise her, -but before he could effect his purpose, Major Helmstedt had caught up -his daughter, and with extended hands, exclaimed: - -“Off, sir! How durst you? Touch her not! Address her not at your peril! -Dr. Hartley, since you attended this self-willed girl hither, pray do -me the favor to lead her from the scene. Gentlemen, seconds, I look to -you to restore order, that the business of our meeting may proceed.” - -“Father, father!” cried Margaret, clasping his knees in an agony of -prayer. - -“Degenerate child, release me and begone! Dr. Hartley, will you relieve -me of this girl?” - -“Major Helmstedt, your daughter and myself came hither in the hope of -mediating between yourself and your antagonist.” - -“Mediating! Sir, there is no such thing as mediation in a quarrel like -this! Since you brought my daughter hither, will you take her off, sir, -I ask you?” thundered Major Helmstedt, striving to unrivet the clinging -arms of his child. - -“Father, father! Hear me, hear me!” she cried. - -“Peace, girl, I command you. Fool that you are, not to see that this is -a mortal question, that can only be resolved in a death meeting between -us. Girl, girl, girl! are you a Helmstedt? Do you know that the family -of this man have made dishonoring charges upon you? Charges that, by -the Heaven above, can be washed out only in life’s blood? Take her -away, Hartley.” - -“Father, father! Oh, God! the charges! the charges that they have made! -they are true! they are true!” cried Margaret, clinging to his arms, -while she hid her face upon his bosom. - -Had a bombshell exploded in their midst, it could not have produced a -severer or more painful shock. - -Ralph Houston, after the first agonized start and shudder, drew nearer -to her, and paused, pale as death, to listen further, if, perchance, he -had heard aright. - -All the others, after their first surprise, stood as if struck statue -still. - -Major Helmstedt remained nailed to the ground, a form of iron. Deep -and unearthly was the sound of his voice, as, lifting the head of his -daughter from his breast, he said: - -“Miss Helmstedt, look me in the face!” - -She raised her agonized eyes to his countenance. - -All present looked and listened. No one thought by word or gesture of -interfering between the father and daughter. - -“Miss Helmstedt,” he began, in the low, deep, stern tone of -concentrated passion, “what was that which you said just now?” - -“I said, my father, in effect, that you must not fight; that your cause -is accurst; that the charges brought against me are--true!” - -“You tell me that----” - -“The charges brought against me are true!” she said, in a strange, -ringing voice, every tone of which was audible to all present. - -Had the fabled head of the Medusa, with all its fell powers, arisen -before the assembled party, it could not have produced a more appalling -effect. Each stood as if turned to stone by her words. - -The father and daughter remained confronted like beings charged with -the mortal and eternal destiny of each other. At length Margaret, -unable to bear the scrutiny of his fixed gaze, dropped her head upon -her bosom, buried her burning face in her hands, and turned away. - -Then Major Helmstedt, keeping his eyes still fixed with a devouring -gaze upon her, slowly raised, extended and dropped his hand heavily -upon her shoulder, clutched, turned, and drew her up before him. - -“Again! let fall your hands; raise your head; look me in the face, -minion!” - -She obeyed, dropping her hands, and lifting her face, crimsoned with -blushes, to his merciless gaze. - -“Repeat--for I can scarce believe the evidence of my own senses! The -charges brought against you, by the Houstons, are----” - -“True! They are true!” she replied, in a voice of utter despair. - -“Then, for three years past, ever since your betrothal to Mr. Ralph -Houston, you have been in secret correspondence with a strange young -man, disapproved by your protectress?” asked Major Helmstedt, in a -sepulchral tone. - -“I have--I have!” - -“And you have met this young man more than once in private?” - -“Yes, yes!” she gasped, with a suffocating sob. - -“On the day of the festival, and of the landing of the British upon our -island, you passed several hours alone with this person in the woods?” - -A deprecating wave of the hand and another sob was her only reply. - -“Once, at least, you received this man in your private apartment at -Buzzard’s Bluff?” - -A gesture of affirmation and of utter despondency was her answer. - -“The night of that same visit, you secretly left the room of your -protectors for an unexplained absence of several days, some of which -were passed in the company of this person?” - -For all reply, she raised and clasped her hands and dropped them down -before her, and let her head fall upon her bosom with an action full of -irremediable despair. - -Her father’s face was dark with anguish. - -“Speak, minion!” he said, “these things must not be left to -conjecture; they must be clearly understood. Speak! answer!” - -“I did,” she moaned, in an expiring voice, as her head sank lower upon -her breast, and her form cowered under the weight of an overwhelming -shame and sorrow. - -And well she might. Here, in the presence of men, in the presence of -her father and her lover, she was making admissions, the lightest one -of which, unexplained, was sufficient to brand her woman’s brow with -ineffaceable and eternal dishonor! - -Her lover’s head had sunk upon his breast, and he stood with folded -arms, set lips, downcast eyes and impassable brow, upon which none -could read his thoughts. - -Her father’s face had grown darker and sterner, as he questioned and -she answered, until now it was terrible to look upon. - -A pause had followed her last words, and was broken at length by -Major Helmstedt, who, in a voice, awful in the stillness and depth of -suppressed passion, said: - -“Wretched girl! why do you linger here? Begone! and never let me see -you more!” - -“Father, father! have mercy, have mercy on your poor child!” she -exclaimed, clasping her hands and dropping at his feet. - -“Minion! never dare to desecrate my name, or pollute my sight again. -Begone!” he exclaimed, spurning her kneeling form and turning away. - -“Oh, father, father! for the sweet love of the Saviour!” she cried, -throwing her arms around his knees and clinging to him. - -“Wretch! outcast! release me, avoid my presence, or I shall be driven -to destroy you, wanton!” he thundered, giving way to fury, and -shaking her as a viper from her clinging hold upon his feet; “wanton! -courtez----” - -But ere that word of last reproach could be completed, swift as -lightning she flew to his bosom, clung about his neck, placed her hand -over his lips to arrest his further speech, and gazing intensely, -fiercely into his eyes--into his soul, exclaimed: - -“Father, do not finish your sentence. Unless you wish me to drop dead -before you, do not. As you hope for salvation, never apply that name -to--her daughter.” - -“Her daughter!” he retorted, violently, shaking her off, until she -fell collapsed and exhausted at his feet--“her daughter! Changeling, -no daughter of hers or of mine are you. She would disown and curse you -from her grave! and----” - -“Oh, mother, mother! oh, mother, mother!” groaned the poor girl, -writhing and groveling like a crushed worm on the ground. - -“And I,” he continued, heedless of her agony, as he stooped, clutched -her arm, jerked her with a spring upon her feet, and held her tightly -confronting him. - -“I--there was a time when I was younger, that had any woman of my name -or blood made the shameful confessions that you have made this day, I -would have slain her on the instant with this, my right hand. But age -somewhat cools the head, and now I only spurn you--thus!” - -And tightening his grasp upon her shoulder, he whirled her off with -such violence that she fell at several yards distant, stunned and -insensible upon the ground. - -Then, followed by his second, he strode haughtily from the place. - -Dr. Hartley, who had remained standing in amazement through the latter -part of this scene, now hurried to the assistance of the swooning girl. - -But Ralph Houston, shaking off the dreadful apathy that had bound his -faculties, hastened to intercept him. Kneeling beside the prostrate -form, he lifted and placed it in an easier position. Then, turning to -arrest the doctor’s steps, he said: - -“Before you come nearer to her, tell me this: What do you believe of -her?” - -“That she is a fallen girl,” replied Dr. Hartley. - -“Then, no nearer on your life and soul,” said Ralph, lifting his hand -to bar the doctor’s further approach. - -“What do you mean, Captain Houston?” - -“That she still wears the betrothal ring I placed upon her finger. -That I am, as yet, her affianced husband. And, by that name, I claim -the right to protect her in this, her bitter extremity; to defend her -bruised and broken heart from the wounds of unkind eyes! Had you had -faith in her, charity for her, I should have accepted, with thanks, -your help. As it is, you have none; do not let her awake to find a -hostile countenance bending over her!” - -“As you please, sir. But, remember, that if the assistance of a -physician is absolutely required, my services, and my home also, await -the needs of Marguerite De Lancie’s daughter,” said Dr. Hartley, -turning to depart. - -Frank also, at a sign from his brother, withdrew. - -Ralph was alone with Margaret. He raised her light form, shuddering, -amid all his deeper distress, to feel how light it was, and bore her -down the wooded hill, to the great spreading oak, under which was the -green mound of her mother’s last sleeping place. - -He laid her down so that her head rested on this mound as on a pillow, -and then went to a spring near by to bring water, with which, kneeling, -he bathed her face. - -Long and assiduous efforts were required before she recovered from that -mortal swoon. - -When at length, with a deep and shuddering sigh, and a tremor that ran -through all her frame, she opened her eyes, she found Ralph Houston -kneeling by her side, bending with solicitous interest over her. - -With only a dim and partial recollection of some great agony passed, -she raised her eyes and stretched forth her arms, murmuring, in tender, -pleading tones: - -“Ralph, my friend, my savior, you do not believe me guilty? You know me -so thoroughly; you always trusted me; you are sure that I am innocent?” - -“Margaret,” he said, in a voice of the deepest pain, “I pillowed your -head here above your mother’s bosom; had I not believed you guiltless -of any deeper sin than inconstancy of affection, I should not have laid -you in this sacred place.” - -“Inconstancy! Ralph?” - -“Fear nothing, poor girl! it is not for me to judge or blame you. You -were but a child when our betrothal took place; you could not have -known your own heart; I was twelve years your senior, and I should have -had more wisdom, justice, and generosity than to have bound the hand -of a child of fourteen to that of a man of twenty-six. We have been -separated for three years. You are now but seventeen, and I am in my -thirtieth year. You have discovered your mistake, and I suffer a just -punishment. It is natural.” - -“Oh, my God! my God! my cup overflows with bitterness!” moaned the poor -maiden, in a voice almost inaudible from anguish. - -“Compose yourself, dear Margaret. I do not reproach you in the least; -I am here to serve you as I best may; to make you happy, if it be -possible. And the first step to be taken is to restore to you your -freedom.” - -“Oh, no! Oh, Lord of mercy, no! no! no!” she exclaimed, in an agony of -prayer; and then, in sudden self-consciousness, she flushed all over -her face and neck with maiden shame, and became suddenly silent. - -“Dear Margaret,” said Ralph, in a tone of infinite tenderness and -compassion, “you have suffered so much that you are scarcely sane. You -hardly know what you would have. Our betrothal must, of course, be -annulled. You must be free to wed this lover of your choice. I hope -that he is, in some measure, worthy of you; nay, since you love him, I -must believe that he is so.” - -“Oh, Ralph, Ralph! Oh, Ralph, Ralph!” she cried, wringing her hands. - -“Margaret, what is the meaning of this?” - -“I have no lover except you. I never wronged you in thought, or word, -or deed; never, never, never!” - -“Dear Margaret, I have not charged you with wronging me.” - -“But I have no lover; do you hear, Ralph? I never have had one! I never -should have so desecrated our sacred engagement.” - -“Poor Margaret, you are distracted! Much grief has made you mad! You no -longer know what you say.” - -“Oh, I do, I do! never believe but I know every word that I speak. -And I say that my heart has never wandered for an instant from its -allegiance to yourself! And listen farther, Ralph,” she said, sinking -upon her knees beside that grave, and raising her hands and eyes to -heaven with the most impressive solemnity, “listen while I swear this -by the heart of her who sleeps beneath this sod, and by my hopes of -meeting her in heaven! that he with whom my name has been so wrongfully -connected was no lover of mine--could be no lover of mine!” - -“Hold, Margaret! Do not forswear yourself even in a fit of partial -derangement. Rise, and recall to yourself some circumstances that -occurred immediately before you became insensible, and which, -consequently, may have escaped your memory. Recollect, poor girl, the -admissions you made to your father,” said Ralph, taking her hand and -gently constraining her to rise. - -“Oh, Heaven! and you believe--you believe----” - -“Your own confessions, Margaret, nothing more; for had an angel from -heaven told the things of you that you have stated of yourself, I -should not have believed him!” - -“Oh, my mother! Oh, my God!” she cried, in a tone of such deep misery, -that, through all his own trouble, Ralph deeply pitied and gently -answered her. - -“Be at ease. I do not reproach you, my child.” - -“But you believe. Oh, you believe----” - -“Your own statement concerning yourself, dear Margaret; no more nor -less.” - -“Believe no more. Not a hair’s breadth more. Scarcely so much. And -draw from that no inferences. On your soul, draw no inferences against -me; for they would be most unjust. For I am yours; only yours; wholly -yours. I have never, never had any purpose, wish, or thought at -variance with your claims upon me.” - -“You must pardon me, Margaret, if I cannot reconcile your present -statement with the admissions lately made to your father. Allow me to -bring them to your memory.” - -“Oh, Heaven, have mercy on me!” she cried, covering her face. - -“Remember, I do not reproach you with them; I only recall them to -your mind. You have been in secret correspondence with this young -man for three years past; you have given him private meetings; you -have passed hours alone in the woods with him; you have received him -in your chamber; you have been abroad for days in his company; you -have confessed the truth of all this; and yet you declare that he is -not, and cannot be a lover of yours. Margaret, Margaret, how can you -expect me, for a moment, to credit the amazing inconsistency of your -statements?” - -While he spoke, she stood before him in an agony of confusion and -distress, her form cowering; her face sunk upon her breast; her eyes -shunning his gaze; her face, neck, and bosom crimsoned with fiery -blushes; her hands writhed together; her whole aspect one of conscious -guilt, convicted crime, and overwhelming shame. - -The anguish stamped upon the brow of her lover was terrible to behold. -Yet he governed his emotions, and compelled his voice to be steady in -saying: - -“Dear Margaret, if in any way you can reconcile these -inconsistencies--speak!” - -Speak. Ay, she might have done so. One word from her lips would have -sufficed to lift the cloud of shame from her brow, and to crown her -with an aureola of glory; would have averted the storm of calamity -gathering darkly over her head, and restored her, a cherished daughter, -to the protecting arms of her father; an honored maiden to the esteem -of friends and companions; a beloved bride to the sheltering bosom of -her bridegroom. A word would have done this; yet that word, which could -have lifted the shadow from her own heart and life, must have bid it -settle, dark and heavy, upon the grave of the dumb, defenseless dead -beneath her feet. And the word remained unspoken. - -“I can die for her; but I cannot betray her. I can live dishonored -for her sake; but I cannot consign her memory to reproach,” said the -devoted daughter to her own bleeding and despairing heart. - -“Margaret, can you explain the meaning of these letters, these meetings -in the woods, on the river, in your own chamber?” - -“Alas! I cannot. I can only endure,” she moaned, in a voice replete -with misery, as her head sunk lower upon her breast, and her form -cowered nearer the ground, as if crushed by the insupportable weight of -humiliation. - -It was not in erring human wisdom to look upon her thus, to listen to -her words, and not believe her a fallen angel! - -And yet she was innocent. More than innocent. Devoted, heroic, holy. - -But, notwithstanding this, and her secret consciousness of this, -how could she--in her tender youth, with her maiden delicacy and -sensitiveness to reproach--how could she stand in this baleful -position, and not appear overwhelmed by guilt and shame? - -There was a dread pause of some minutes, broken at length by Ralph, who -said: - -“Margaret, will you return me that betrothal ring?” - -She answered: - -“You placed it on my finger, Ralph! Will you also take it off? I was -passive then; I will be passive now.” - -Ralph raised the pale hand in his own and tried to draw off the -ring. But since, three years before, the token had been placed upon -the little hand of the child, that hand had grown, and it was found -impossible to draw the ring over the first joint. - -Ralph Houston, unwilling to give her physical pain, resisted in his -efforts, saying quietly, as he bowed and left her: - -“The betrothal ring refuses to leave your finger, Margaret. Well, -good-morning!” - -A smile, holy with the light of faith, hope, and love, dawned within -her soul and irradiated her brow. In a voice, solemn, thrilling with -prophetic joy, she said: - -“The ring remains with me! I hail it as the bow of promise! In this -black tempest, the one shining star!” - - - - -CHAPTER XV. NIGHT AND ITS ONE STAR. - - -Two years had elapsed since the disappearance of Margaret Helmstedt. - -Major Helmstedt had caused secret investigations to be set on foot, -that had resulted in demonstrating, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that -Margaret Helmstedt and William Dawson had embarked as passengers on -board the bark _Amphytrite_, bound from Norfolk to Liverpool. From the -day upon which this fact was ascertained, Margaret’s name was tacitly -dropped by all her acquaintances. - -It was about twelve months after the disappearance of Margaret that old -Mr. Wellworth died, and his orphan daughter Grace found a refuge in -the home of Nellie Houston. - -Ralph Houston was then at home, considering himself quite released by -circumstances from his rash vow of forsaking his father’s house. - -Grace, the weak-hearted little creature, permitted herself to mistake -all Ralph’s brotherly kindness for a warmer affection, and to fall -incontinently in love with him. - -When the clergyman’s daughter had been their inmate for six months, -Mrs. Houston astounded the young man by informing him that unless his -intentions were serious, “he really should not go on so with the poor -fatherless and motherless girl.” - -Captain Houston did not love Grace--but he rather liked her. He thought -her very pretty, gentle, and winning; moreover, he believed her soft, -pliable, elastic little heart capable of being broken! - -Since Margaret was lost to him forever, perhaps he might as well as -not make this pretty, engaging little creature his wife. The constant -presence of Grace was an appeal to which he impulsively yielded. -Then--the word spoken--there was no honorable retreat. - -Christmas was the day appointed for the wedding. Clare Hartley -consented to officiate as bridesmaid; Frank Houston agreed to act as -groomsman, and Dr. Hartley offered to give the fatherless bride away. - -The twenty-fifth day of December dawned clear and cold. The whole -bridal company that had assembled the evening previous set out at the -appointed hour for the church. - -They reached the church a few minutes before nine o’clock. Dr. Simmons, -the pastor, was already in attendance. The bridal party passed up the -aisle and formed before the altar. Amid the solemn silence that ever -precedes such rites the marriage ceremony commenced. - -“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, -and in the face of this company, to join together this man and this -woman in holy matrimony; which is commended of Saint Paul to be -honorable among all men; and therefore is not by any to be entered -into unadvisedly or lightly; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, -soberly, and in the fear of God. Into this holy estate, these two -persons present come now to be joined. If any man can show just cause -why they may not be lawfully joined together, let him now speak, or -else, hereafter, forever hold his peace----” - -Here the minister made the customary pause; and then, just as he was -about to resume his reading, there was the sound of an opening door, -and a clear, commanding voice, exclaiming: - -“Stop, on your lives! The marriage must not proceed!” - -At the same moment all eyes were turned in astonishment, to see a -gentleman, with a veiled lady leaning on his arm, advancing toward the -altar. - -The minister laid down his book; the bridegroom turned, with a brow -of stern inquiry, upon the intruder; the bride stood in trembling -amazement. Colonel Houston alone had the presence of mind to demand, -somewhat haughtily: - -“Pray, sir, what is the meaning of this most offensive conduct? By what -authority do you venture to interrupt these solemnities?” - -The young stranger turned and bowed to the questioner, smiling -good-humoredly as he answered: - -“Faith, sir! by the authority conferred upon me by the ritual, which -exhorts that any man who can show any cause why these two persons -may not be united in matrimony, forthwith declare it. So adjured, I -speak--happening to know two causes why these two persons may not be -lawfully joined together. The fair bride has been for two years past -my promised wife, and the gallant bridegroom’s betrothal ring still -encircles the finger of Margaret Helmstedt!” - -“And who are you, sir, that ventures to take these words upon your -lips?” now asked Ralph Houston, deeply shaken by the mention of his -Margaret’s name. - -“I am,” replied the young man, speaking slowly and distinctly, “William -Daw, Earl of Falconridge, the half-brother of Margaret Helmstedt by the -side of our mother, Marguerite De Lancie, who, previous to becoming -the wife of Mr. Philip Helmstedt, had been the wife and the widow of -Lord William Daw. Should my statement require confirmation,” continued -the young man, “it can be furnished by documents in my possession, and -which I am prepared to submit to any person concerned.” Bowing to the -astounded party, he retraced his steps. - -The silence of amazement bound all the hearers; nor was the spell -broken until the young lady who leaned upon the arm of Lord Falconridge -drew aside her veil, revealing the pale and lovely countenance of -Margaret Helmstedt, and crossed over to the side of Major Helmstedt, -saying: - -“Father, the labor of my life is accomplished; my mother’s name is -clear forever!” and overpowered by excess of emotion, she sank fainting -at the feet of her astonished parent. - -“Margaret! my Margaret!” exclaimed Ralph Houston, forgetting everything -else, and springing forward. Tenderly lifted in the arms of Ralph, -Margaret was conveyed to the parsonage, and laid on the bed in the -best chamber. Here efforts to restore her to consciousness were vainly -pursued for a long time. - -When at last a change came, returning life was scarcely less alarming -than apparent death had been. For weeks she wandered in a most -distressing delirium. - -It was about this time that Major Helmstedt and Lord Falconridge had -a long business conversation. The major, being perfectly assured in -regard to his identity and his claims, delivered up into his lordship’s -hands such portion of his mother’s estate as he would have legally -inherited. After the transfer was made, Lord Falconridge executed -an instrument, conveying the whole disputed property to his sister, -Margaret Helmstedt, “and her heirs forever.” - -Not until Margaret was fully restored to health was the whole secret -history of her mother’s most unhappy life revealed. The facts, obtained -at intervals, were, in brief, these: - -Marguerite De Lancie, tempted by inordinate social ambition, had -consented to a private marriage with Lord William Daw. - -His lordship’s tutor, the Rev. Mr. Murray, became a party to the plan, -even to the extent of performing the marriage ceremony. His lordship’s -valet was the only witness. The certificate of marriage was left in -the hands of the bride. The ceremony took place at Saratoga, in the -month of July. - -Two months after, early in September, Lord William Daw, summoned by his -father to the bedside of his declining mother, sailed for England. - -Marguerite received from him one letter, dated at sea, and in which he -addressed her as his “beloved wife,” and signed himself, boy-loverlike, -her “adoring husband.” This letter was directed to Lady William Daw, -under cover to Marguerite De Lancie. It was the only one that he ever -had the opportunity of writing to her. It arrived about the time that -the wife first knew that she was also destined to become a mother. - -In the January following the receipt of this letter, Marguerite went -with the Comptons to the New Year’s evening ball at the Executive -Mansion. It was while standing up in a quadrille that she overheard two -gentlemen speak of the wreck of the bark _Venture_ off the coast of -Cornwall, with the loss of all on board. - -Marguerite fainted; and thence followed the terrible illness that -brought her to the borders of death--of death, for which indeed she -prayed and hoped; for what a wretched condition was hers! She, one of -the most beautiful, accomplished, and high-spirited queens of society, -found herself fated to become a mother, without the power of proving -that she had ever possessed the right to the name of wife. - -As soon as she was able to recollect, reflect, and act, she felt that -the only hope of recognition as the widow of Lord William Daw rested -with the family of the latter; and she determined to go secretly to -England. She made her preparations and departed. - -She reached London, where, overtaken by the pangs of maternity, she -gave birth to a son, and immediately fell into a long and dangerous -fever. Upon recovering, she sought the Yorkshire home of her -father-in-law, and revealed to him her position. - -Marguerite was prepared for doubt, difficulty, and delay, but not for -the utter incredulity, scorn, and rejection, to which she was subjected -by the arrogant Marquis of Eaglecliff. Marguerite exhibited the -certificate of her marriage, and the sole letter her young husband had -ever had the power to write to her, and pleaded for recognition. - -Now the old marquis knew the handwriting of his son, and of his -chaplain; but, feeling outraged by what he chose to consider artifice -on the part of Marguerite, disobedience on that of William, and -treachery on that of Mr. Murray, he contemptuously put aside the -certificate as a forgery, and the letter, beginning “My beloved wife,” -as the mere nonsense of a boy-lover writing to his mistress. - -Indignant and broken-hearted, Marguerite took her son and returned to -her native country; put the boy out to nurse, and then sought her home -in Virginia, to reflect, amid its quiet scenes, upon her future course. - -Marguerite’s confidential consultations with various eminent lawyers -had resulted in no encouragement for her to seek legal redress; she -determined to rear her boy in secrecy; and watch if, perchance, some -opportunity for successfully pushing his claims should occur. Further, -she resolved to remain unmarried, and to devote herself to the welfare -of this unacknowledged son, so that, should all his rights of birth be -finally denied, she could at last legally adopt him, and make him her -sole heir. Somewhat quieted by this resolution, Marguerite De Lancie -became once more the ascendant star of fashion. The greater part of -each year she spent in the hamlet in the State of New York where she -had placed her son at nurse, accounting for her long absences by the -defiant answer, “I’ve been gypsying.” - -Thus three years slipped away, when at length Marguerite De Lancie met -her fate in Philip Helmstedt, the only man whom she ever really loved. - -The tale she durst not tell her lover, she insanely hoped might be -successfully concealed, or safely confided to her husband. Ah, vain -hope! Philip Helmstedt, to the last degree jealous and suspicious, -was the worst man on the face of the earth to whom to confide her -questionable story. - -They were married; and for a time she was lost in the power that -attracted, encircled, and swallowed up her whole fiery nature. - -From this deep trance of bliss she was electrified by the receipt -of a letter, advising her of the sudden and dangerous illness of -the unowned child. Here was an exigency for which she was totally -unprepared. She prayed Philip Helmstedt to permit her to depart, for -a season, unquestioned. This strange petition gave rise to the first -misunderstanding between them. With the terrible scenes that followed -the reader is already acquainted. She was not suffered to depart. - -A subsequent letter informed her of the convalescence of her son. - -A superficial peace, without confidence, ensued between herself and -husband. They went to Richmond, where Marguerite, filled with grief, -remorse, and terror, so distractedly overacted her part as queen of -fashion, that she brought upon herself, from wondering friends, the -suspicion of partial insanity. - -It was at this time that she received a third letter, advising her of -the nearly fatal relapse of her child. - -Knowing from past experience how vain it would be to hope for Philip -Helmstedt’s consent to her unexpected absence, she secretly departed, -to spend a few weeks with her suffering child. She reached the hamlet, -nursed her boy through his illness, and then placed him to be reared -and educated in the family of the poor village pastor, to whom, for his -services as tutor, she offered a liberal salary. - -The Rev. John Braunton was a man past middle age, of acute intellect, -conscientious principles, and benevolent disposition. From his keen -perceptive faculties it was impossible to hide the fact that the -mysterious lady, who took such deep and painful interest in this child, -was other than the boy’s mother. - -Having arranged a system of correspondence with the clergyman, and -paid a half year’s salary in advance, Marguerite Helmstedt departed -for her Virginia home, full of intense anxiety as to the reception she -would meet from her husband. We know what that reception was. Philip -Helmstedt must have sacrificed her life to his jealous rage but that -she was destined to be the mother of his child. He kept his wife from -her son for fifteen years. - -In the meantime Mr. Braunton, who regularly received his salary, -wondered that he received no more visits from the guardian or mother of -his pupil. As the years passed he expostulated by letter. Marguerite -wept, but could not go. - -Some time after this, Braunton suddenly appeared before her on the -island to inform her that her boy, grown restive in his rustic -residence, had run away from home. Nothing could be discovered -in relation to the missing youth, and from this time Marguerite -Helmstedt’s health rapidly declined. - -Once more Marguerite saw her son. In the spring of 1814 he suddenly -appeared before her in the uniform of a British soldier--claimed her -assistance, and adjured her to reveal to him his birth and parentage. -His miserable mother evaded his question, besought him to return to -the protection of Mr. Braunton, and, promising to write, or to see him -again, dismissed him. - -That visit was the deathblow from which Marguerite never recovered. She -died, and, dying, bequeathed to her daughter the legacy of this secret. - -Having vindicated her mother’s honor, Margaret would now withhold -the particulars of her own perseverance and self-denial in the cause -of her brother. But her father and her lover were not to be thus put -off. Little by little, they drew from the reluctant girl the story -of her devotion to her mother’s trust. The ample income, drawn from -her mother’s legacy of Plover’s Point, had been regularly sent to Mr. -Braunton, to be invested for the benefit of William Dawson; afterward a -correspondence was opened with the young man. - -When subsequently they happened to meet that day on Helmstedt Island, -the young man sought to compel, from her lips, the story of his -parentage; but Margaret refused to tell him anything, and spoke of her -mother only as his patroness. - -But when he begged to be shown her grave, Margaret consented. They took -a boat and went up the river to the family burial ground at Plover’s -Point. They returned in the evening--the young soldier to rejoin his -comrades--Margaret to rejoin her friends, and to meet suspicions which -she had no power to quell. - -It was some weeks after this when the famous attack upon the parsonage -was made, and young William Dawson was taken prisoner. While upon -his parole, an irresistible attraction drew him to seek Margaret. He -visited her in her private apartment, entering and departing by the -garden door. Nellie saw him depart. Margaret besought him to come no -more. After that, he lingered near the house, and met her in her walks. -The spies of Nellie Houston discovered and reported this interview. Yet -again they met in the woods, where Margaret entreated him not to waylay -her. - -About that time also, Clare Hartley spoke in the presence of the young -ensign of her own and Margaret Helmstedt’s purposed visit to Fort -Warburton. The visit was not made; but William Dawson, missing Margaret -from her accustomed haunts, wandered off to the neighborhood of Fort -Warburton, where he was taken for a spy, and as such might have been -hung, had he not bribed a messenger to carry a note to his sister, whom -he now knew to be not at the fort. The messenger, in going away, was -seen by Nellie, who naturally took him to be the young ensign. Margaret -obeyed the peremptory summons, and the same night departed for Fort -Warburton. With the terrible train of misfortunes that ensued, the -reader is already acquainted. - -Immediately after the prevented duel and the parting with her lover, -Margaret sought her brother, and, taking the marriage certificate, and -the letter of Lord William Daw, embarked with her brother for Liverpool. - -On reaching England, she immediately sought the Marquis of Eaglecliff, -and laid before him the claims of his grandson. At the first sight of -the young man, the aged peer made an exclamation of surprise. So great -was his likeness to the late Lord William Daw, that the marquis almost -fancied he beheld again his long-lost son. - -Legal steps were immediately taken to establish his identity and -confirm his position. Law processes are proverbially slow. In all, -it was about twelve months between the time that William Daw was -acknowledged by his grandfather, and the time when his position as -the legal heir of Eaglecliff was permanently established. And it was -more than two years from the day upon which the brother and sister had -sailed to England, to that upon which they so opportunely returned to -America. - -But little remains to be written. With spring, Margaret’s beauty -bloomed again. - -In June Ralph Houston led his long-affianced bride to the altar. After -an extended trip through New England, they took up their residence in -the city of Richmond, where Ralph Houston had been appointed to a high -official post. - -Lord Falconridge remained through the winter, the guest of his sister -and brother-in-law. Major Helmstedt, of course, took up his abode with -his daughter and her husband. - -Honest Frank Houston married Clare Hartley, with whom he lives very -happily at Plover’s Point. - -I am sorry that I cannot present poor little Grace Wellworth as -a countess, but, truth to tell, the young earl never resumed his -addresses. So Grace, in fear of being an old maid, accepted the -proposals soon afterward made to her by Mr. Simmons, the minister, to -whom she makes a very exemplary wife. - -THE END. - -No. 82 of THE NEW SOUTHWORTH LIBRARY, entitled “The Bride’s Dowry,” is -a story in which love, finance, and selfish interest play a part. 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