THE SEPARATION.
With the morning light and the return to the settlement, Mr. Lansdowne
awoke to a consciousness of the duty immediately before him, that of
making arrangements for the safe conveyance home of the precious form
now consigned to his care.
His friends at the Dubois house manifested the deepest sympathy in his
affliction, and aided him in every possible way. In making his journey
he concluded to take a boat conveyance to Chatham, and a trading
vessel thence to his native city.
The missionary, who since the early spring had been laboring up and
down the rivers St. John and Miramichi, now concluded to return to his
family for the coming winter. Such had been his intention and his
promise to Mrs. Norton, when he left home. He was induced to go at
this particular time partly by the hope of rendering some service to
Mr. Lansdowne during his journey, and partly in order to see Mrs.
Lansdowne and impart to her the particulars of her brother's residence
and illness at Miramichi. A scheme of mercy on the part of the good
man.
On the return of Mr. Dubois to his house, he found a package of
letters, which, in the confusion and anxiety of the previous day, had
remained unopened. There was one from the Count de Rossillon,
announcing the death of the Countess. He wrote as if deeply depressed
in mind, speaking of the infirmities of age weighing heavily upon him,
and of his loneliness, and imploring Mr. Dubois to come, make his
abode at the chateau and take charge of the estate, which, at his
death, he added, would pass into the possession of Mrs. Dubois and
Adèle.
Mrs. Dubois's heart beat with delight and her eyes swam with tears of
pleasure, at the prospect of once more returning to her beloved
Picardy. Yet her joy was severely chastened by the loss of the
Countess, whom she had fondly loved.
Adèle felt a satisfaction in the anticipation of being restored to the
dignities of Rossillon, which she was too proud to manifest.
Mr. Dubois alone hesitated in entertaining the idea of a return. His
innate love of independence, together with a remembrance of the early
antipathy the Count had shown to the marriage with his niece, made the
thought repellant to him. A calmer consideration, however, changed his
view of the case. He recollected that the Count had at last consented
to his union with Mrs. Dubois, and reflected that the infirmities and
loneliness of the Count laid on them obligations they should not
neglect. He found, also, that his own love of home and country, now
that it could at last with propriety be gratified, welled up and
overflowed like a newly sprung fountain.
The tornado had spent itself, the fire had rushed on to the ocean, the
atmosphere had became comparatively clear and the weather cool and
bracing.
On the evening before the departure of Mr. Norton and Mr. Lansdowne,
the family met, as on many previous occasions, in the Madonna room. In
itself, the apartment was as cheerful and attractive as ever, but each
one present felt a sense of vacancy, a shrinking of the heart. The
sunny changeful glow of one bright face was no longer there, and the
shadows of approaching separation cast a gloom over the scene.
These people, so strangely thrown together in this wild, obscure
region of Miramichi, drawn hither by such differing objects of
pursuit, bound by such various ties in life, occupying such divergent
positions in the social scale, had grown by contact and sympathy into
a warm friendship toward each other. Their daily intercourse was now
to be broken up, the moment of adieu drew nigh, and the prospect of
future meeting was, to say the least, precarious. Was it strange that
some sharp pangs of regret filled their hearts?
Mr. Lansdowne, who had up to this time been wholly occupied with his
preparations for departure, was sitting, in an attitude betokening
weariness and despondency, leaning his arms upon a table, shading his
face with his hand. A few days of grief and anxiety had greatly
changed him. He looked pale and languid, but Adèle thought, as she
occasionally glanced at him from the sofa opposite, that she had never
seen his countenance so clothed with spiritual beauty.
Mr. Dubois, who had not yet spoken to his friends of his intention to
remove to France, now broke the heavy silence, by announcing his
purpose to leave, in the course of a week, and return with his family
to Picardy.
Mr. Lansdowne started suddenly and uttered a slight exclamation. Adèle
looked at him involuntarily. He was gazing at her intently. The
strange light again glowed in his eyes. Her own fell slowly. She could
not keep her lids lifted beneath his gaze.
After the plans of Mr. Dubois had been discussed, mutual inquiries and
communications respecting future prospects were made, until the
evening hours were gone.
"If my life is spared, I shall come here and spend another season, as
I have spent the one just closing", said Mr. Norton.
Thus they parted for the night.
In the morning there was time for nothing, but a few hasty words.
Adèle's face was very pale. Mr. Lansdowne, looking as if he had not
slept for many hours, took her hand, bent over it silently for a
moment, then walked slowly to the boat without turning his head.
During days and weeks of tranquil pleasure in each other's
companionship, these two young beings had unconsciously become lovers.
No sooner had they awakened to a knowledge of this fact, than a great
danger and an unlooked for sorrow, while deepening the current of
their existence, had also deepened their affection. Was that formal,
restrained adieu to be the end of all this?