AT TANGLEWOOD.
Are not the forests, waves and skies, a part
Of me and of my soul as I of them?
Is not the love of these deep in my heart
With a pure passion? Should I not contemn
All objects if compared with these? and stem
A tide of sufferings, rather than forego
Such feelings for the hard and worldly phlegm
Of those whose eyes are only turned below,
Gazing upon the ground, with thoughts that dare not glow?
--_Byron_.
After breakfast Ishmael took his hat, and, promising to return in
the evening, set out for Tanglewood to spend the day and go to
church with the judge.
How he enjoyed that Sunday morning walk through the depths of the
forest that lay between Woodside and Tanglewood.
He reached the house just as the judge had finished breakfast. He
was shown into the room while the old man still lingered in sheer
listlessness over his empty cup and plate.
"Eh, Ishmael! is that you, my boy? Lord bless my soul, how glad I am
to see you! Old Jacob was never so glad to see Joseph as I am to see
you!" was the greeting of the judge, as he started up, overturning
his chair and seizing both his visitor's hands and shaking them
vigorously.
"And I am very glad indeed to see you again, sir! I hope you have
been well?" said Ishmael warmly, returning his greeting.
"Well? Hum, ha, how can I be well? What is that the poet says?
"'What stamps the wrinkle deepest on the brow,
It is to be alone as I am now!'
I miss Claudia, Ishmael. I miss her sadly."
"Lady Vincent will be with you soon, sir," observed Ishmael, in as
steady a voice as he could command.
"Yes, she will come on the first of October and stop with me for a
month. So her letter of Wednesday received yesterday says. And then
I shall lose her forever!" complained the judge, with a deep sigh.
"Ah, but you must look on the bright side, sir! You are independent.
You have time and money at your own disposal; and no very strong
ties here. You can visit Lady Vincent as often and stay with her as
long as you please," smiled Ishmael cheerfully.
"Why, so I can! I never thought of that before! I may certainly pass
at least half my time with my daughter if I please!" exclaimed the
old man, brightening up.
"Are you going to church this morning, sir?" inquired Ishmael.
"You are, of course!" said the judge; "for you take care never to
miss morning service! So I must go!"
"Not on my account. I know the road," smiled Ishmael.
"Oh, in any case I should go. I promised to go and dine at the
parsonage, so as to attend afternoon service also. And when I
mentioned to Mr. Wynne that I was expecting you down he requested
me, if you arrived in time, to bring you with me, as he was desirous
of forming your acquaintance. So you see, Ishmael, your fame is
spreading."
"I am very grateful to you and to Mr. Wynne," said Ishmael, as his
heart suddenly thrilled to the memory that Wynne was the name of the
minister who had united his parents in their secret marriage.
"Has Mr. Wynne been long in this parish?" he inquired.
"Some three or four months, I believe. This is his native State,
however. He used to be stationed at the Baymouth church, but left it
some years ago to go as a missionary to Farther India; but as of
late his health failed, he returned home and accepted the call to
take charge of this parish."
Ishmael looked wistfully in the face of the judge and said:
"It was very kind in Mr. Wynne to think of inviting me. Why do you
suppose he did it?"
"Why, I really do suppose that the report of your splendid successes
in Washington has reached him, and he feels some curiosity to see a
young man who in so short a time has attained so high a position."
"No, it is not that," said Ishmael, with a genuine blush at this
great praise; "but do you really not know what it is?"
"I do not, unless it is what I said," replied the judge, raising his
eyebrows.
"He married my parents, and baptized me; he knows that I bear my
mother's maiden name; and he was familiar with my early poverty and
struggles for life; he left the neighborhood when I was about eight
years old," said Ishmael, in a low voice.
The judge opened his eyes and drooped his head for a few moments,
and then said:
"Indeed! Your father, when he told me of his marriage with your
mother, did not mention the minister's name. Everything else, I
believe, he candidly revealed to me, under the seal of confidence;
this omission was accidental, and really unimportant. But how
surprised Brudenell will be to learn that his old friend and
confidant is stationed here."
"Yes."
"And now I can thoroughly understand the great interest Mr. Wynne
feels in you. It is not every minister who is the confidant in such
a domestic tragedy as that of your poor mother was, Ishmael. It is
not only the circumstances of your birth that interest him in you so
much, but those taken in connection with your recent successes. I
should advise you to meet Mr. Wynne's advances."
"I shall gratefully do so, sir."
"And now I really do suppose it is time to order the carriage, if we
mean to go to church to-day," said the judge, rising and touching
the bell.
Jim answered it.
"Have the gray horses put to the barouche and brought around. And
put a case of that old port wine in the box; I intend to take it as
a present to the parson. I always considered port a parsonic wine,
and it really is in this case just the thing for an invalid," said
the judge, turning to Ishmael as Jim left the room.
In twenty minutes the carriage was ready, and they started for the
church, which was some five miles distant. An hour's drive brought
them to it.
A picturesque scene that old St. Mary's church presented. It was
situated in a clearing of the forest beside the turnpike road. It
was built of red brick, and boasted twelve gothic windows and a tall
steeple. The church-yard was fenced in with a low brick wall, and
had some interesting old tombstones, whose dates were coeval with
the first settlement of the State.
Many carriages of every description, from the barouche of the
gentleman to the cart of the laborer, were scattered about, drawn up
under the shade of the trees. And saddle-horses and donkeys were
tied here and there. And groups of negroes, in their gay Sunday
attire, stood gossiping among the trees. Some young men, as usual,
were loitering at the church door.
The judge's carriage drew up under the shade of a forest tree, and
the judge and Ishmael then alighted, and leaving the horses in the
care of the coachman went into the church.
The congregation were already assembled, and soon after Judge Merlin
and his guest took their seats the minister entered and took his
place at the reading-desk and the services commenced.
There was little in this Sunday morning's service to distinguish it
from others of the same sort. The minister was a good man and a
plodding country parson. He read the morning prayers in a creditable
but by no means distinguished manner. And he preached a sermon, more
remarkable for its practical bearing than for its eloquence or
originality, his text being in these words: "Faith without works is
dead."
At the conclusion of the services, while the congregation were
leaving the church, the minister descended from his pulpit and
advanced towards Judge Merlin, who was also hastening to meet his
pastor.
There was a shaking of hands.
Judge Merlin, who was an eminently practical man in all matters but
one, complimented the preacher on his practical sermon.
And then without waiting to hear Mr. Wynne's disclaimer, he beckoned
Ishmael to step forward, and the usual formula of introduction was
performed.
"Mr. Wynne, permit me--Mr. Worth, Mr. Wynne!"
And then were two simultaneous bows and more handshaking.
But both the judge and Ishmael noticed the wistful look with which
the latter was regarded by the minister.
"He is comparing likenesses," thought the judge.
"He is thinking of the past and present," thought Ishmael.
And both were right.
Mr. Wynne saw in Ishmael the likeness to both his parents, and noted
how happily nature had distinguished him with the best points of
each. And he was wondering at the miracle of seeing that the all-
forsaken child, born to poverty, shame, and obscurity, was by the
Lord's blessing on his own persevering efforts certainly rising to
wealth, honor, and fame.
Mr. Wynne renewed his pressing invitation to Judge Merlin and Mr.
Worth to accompany him home to dinner.
And as they accepted the minister's hospitality the whole party
moved off towards the parsonage, which was situated in another
clearing of the forest about a quarter of a mile behind the church.
The parson was blessed with the parson's luck of a large family,
consisting of a wife, several sisters and sisters-in-law, and
nieces, and so many sons and daughters of all ages, from one month
old to twenty years, that the judge, after counting thirteen before
he came to the end of the list, gave up the job in despair.
Notwithstanding, or perhaps because of, this, for "the more, the
merrier," you know, the family dinner passed off pleasantly. And
after dinner they all returned to church to attend the afternoon
service.
And when that was ended Judge Merlin and Ishmael took leave of the
parson and his family and returned home.
When they reached Tanglewood and alighted, the judge, who was first
out, was accosted by his servant Jim, who spoke a few words in a low
tone, which had the effect of hurrying the judge into the house.
Ishmael followed at his leisure.
He entered the drawing room and was walking slowly and thoughtfully
up and down the room, when the sound of voices in the adjoining
library caught his ear and transfixed him to the spot.
"Yes, papa, I am here, and alone--strange as this may seem!"
It was the voice of Claudia that spoke these words.