Who by repentance is not satisfied,
Is not of heaven or earth; for these are pleased;
By penitence the Eternal's wrath's appeased.
SHAKESPEARE.
Mr Ramsden's servant returned to Overton, stating that the doctor was
not at home, but that he had left Mrs Forster and the letter. The time
that Doctor Beddington was to be absent had not been mentioned by the
keepers; and Mr Ramsden, imagining that the doctor had probably gone
out for the evening, made no further inquiries, as he intended, in a day
or two, to call and bring Mrs Forster back to her own house. On the
third day of her removal he set off for the asylum; and when he
discovered the situation of Mrs Forster, he bitterly repented that he
had been persuaded to a step which threatened such serious results. To
remove her was impossible; to assert to the keepers that she was in
sound mind, would have been to commit himself; he therefore withdrew his
letter to Doctor Beddington, who was not expected home for a fortnight,
and with a heavy heart returned to Overton. Miss Dragwell was as much
shocked when she was informed of the unfortunate issue of her plot; and
made a resolution, to which she adhered, never to be guilty of another
practical joke.
In the mean time Newton Forster had made every despatch, and returned to
Overton with the cargo of shingle a few days after his mother's
incarceration. He had not been ten minutes on shore before he was made
acquainted with the melancholy history of her (supposed) madness and
removal to the asylum. He hastened home, where he found his father in a
profound melancholy: he received Newton with a flood of tears, and
appeared to be quite lost in his state of widowhood. The next morning
Newton set off for the asylum, to ascertain the condition of his mother.
He was admitted; found her stretched on a bed, in a state of delirium,
raving in her fever, and unconscious of his presence. The phrenzy of
his mother being substantiated by what he had witnessed, and by the
assurances of the keepers, to whom he made a present of half his small
finances, to induce them to treat her with kindness, Newton returned to
Overton, where he remained at home shut up with his father. In a few
days notice was given by the town-crier, that the remaining stock of Mr
Nicholas Forster, optician, was to be disposed of by public auction.
The fact was, that Nicholas Forster, like many other husbands, although
his wife had been a source of constant annoyance, had become so
habituated to her, that he was miserable now that she was gone. Habit
is more powerful than even love; and many a married couple continue to
live comfortably together long after love has departed, from this most
binding of all human sensations. Nicholas determined to quit Overton;
and Newton, who perceived that his father's happiness was at stake,
immediately acquiesced in his wish. When Nicholas Forster resolved to
leave the town where he had so long resided, he had no settled plans for
the future; the present idea to remove from the scene connected with
such painful associations, was all which occupied his thoughts. Newton,
who presumed that his father had some arranged plan, did not attempt to
awaken him from his profound melancholy, to inquire into his intentions;
and Nicholas had never given the subject one moment of his thought.
When all was ready, Newton inquired of his father, in what manner he
intended they should travel?--"Why, outside the coach will be the
cheapest, Newton; and we have no money to spare. You had better take
our places to-night."
"To what place, father?" inquired Newton.
"I'm sure I don't know, Newton," replied Nicholas, as if just awoke.
This answer produced a consultation; and after many _pros_ and _cons_,
it was resolved that Nicholas should proceed to Liverpool, and settle in
that town. The sloop commanded by Newton was found defective in the
stern port; and as it would take some little while to repair her, Newton
had obtained leave for a few days to accompany his father on his
journey. The trunk picked up at sea, being too cumbrous, was deposited
with the articles of least value, in the charge of Mr Dragwell; the
remainder was taken away by Newton, until he could find a more secure
place for their deposit. On their arrival at Liverpool, with little
money and no friends, Nicholas rented a small shop; and Newton having
extended his leave of absence to the furthest, that he might contribute
to his father's comfort, returned to Overton, to resume the command of
the sloop. The first object was to call at the asylum, where he was
informed that his mother was much less violent, but in so weak a state
that he could not be admitted. Doctor Beddington had not returned; but
a medical gentleman, who had been called in during his absence, stated
to Newton, that he had no doubt if his mother should recover from her
present state of exhaustion, that her reason would be restored. Newton
returned to Overton with a lightened heart, and the next day sailed in
the sloop for Bristol. Contrary winds detained him more than a
fortnight on his passage. On his arrival, his cargo was not ready, and
Newton amused himself by walking about the town and its environs. At
last his cargo was on board; and Newton, who was most anxious to
ascertain the fate of his mother, made all haste to obtain his clearance
and other papers from the Custom-house. It was late in the evening
before he had settled with the house to which the sloop had been
consigned; but, as the wind and tide served, and there was a bright
moon, he resolved to weigh that night. With his papers carefully
buttoned in his coat, he was proceeding to the boat at the jetty, when
he was seized by two men, who rushed upon him from behind. He hardly
had time to look round to ascertain the cause, when a blow on the head
stretched him senseless on the ground.
Now, my readers may probably feel some little distress at the misfortune
of Newton, and have some slight degree of curiosity to know the grounds
of this severe treatment. I, on the contrary, am never more pleased
than when I find my principal character in a state of abeyance, and
leave him so with the greatest indifference, because it suits my
convenience. I have now an opportunity of returning to Mrs Forster, or
any other of the parties who act a subordinate part in my narrative;
and, as Newton is down on the ground, and _hors de combat_, why there
let him lie--until I want him again.
Doctor Beddington returned home long before the recovery of Mrs Forster
from her severe attack. As it may be presumed, he found her perfectly
rational; but still he had no doubt of the assertions of his keepers,
that she was insane at the time that she was sent to the asylum by Mr
Ramsden. The latter gentleman kept aloof until the issue of Mrs
Forster's malady should be ascertained: if she recovered, it was his
intention to call upon Doctor Beddington and explain the circumstances;
if she died, he had determined to say nothing about it. Mrs Forster's
recovery was tedious; her mind was loaded with anxiety, and, what was
infinitely more important, with deep remorse. The supposed death of Mr
Spinney had been occasioned by her violence, and she looked forward with
alarm, as great as the regret with which she looked back upon her former
behaviour. When she called to mind her unfeeling conduct towards her
husband--the many years of bitterness she had created for him, her
infraction of the marriage vow--the solemn promise before God to love,
honour, and obey, daily and hourly violated,--her unjust hatred of her
only son,--her want of charity towards others,--all her duties
neglected,--swayed only by selfish and malignant passions,--with bitter
tears of contrition and self-abasement, she acknowledged that her
punishment was just. With streaming eyes, with supplicating hands and
bended knees, she implored mercy and forgiveness of Him, to whom appeal
is never made in vain. Passion's infuriate reign was over--her heart
was changed!
To Doctor Beddington she made neither complaint nor explanation. All
she wished was to quit the asylum as soon as she was restored to health,
and prove to her husband, by her future conduct, the sincerity of her
reformation. When she became convalescent, by the advice of Doctor
Beddington, she walked in a garden appropriated for the exercise of the
more harmless inmates of the asylum. The first day that he went out she
sat down upon a bench near to the keepers, who were watching those who
were permitted to take the air and exercise, and overheard their
discourse, which referred to herself.
"Why, what was it as made her mad--d'ye know, Tom?"
"They say she's been no better all her life," replied the other; "a rat
would not live in the house with her: at last, in one of her tantrums,
she nearly murdered old Spinney, the clerk at Overton. The report went
out that he was dead; and conscience, I suppose, or summut of that kind,
run away with her senses."
"Oh, he warn't killed, then?"
"No, no: I seed him and heard him too, Sunday fore last, when I went to
call upon old father; I was obligated to go to church, the old gemman's
so remarkable particular."
"And what's become of her husband, and that handsome young chap, her
son?"
"I don't know, nor nobody else either. The old man, who was as worthy
an old soul as ever breathed (more shame to the old faggot, for the life
she led him!) grew very unhappy and melancholy, and would not stay in
the place: they disposed of every thing, and both went away together;
but nobody knows where the old man is gone to."
"And the young un?"
"Oh, he came back and took command of the sloop. He was here twice, to
see how his mother was. Poor lad! it was quite pitiful to see how
unhappy he was about the old catamaran. He give me and Bill a guinea
apiece, to be kind to her; but, about three days back, the sloop came
into the harbour without him: they suppose that he fell off the jetty at
Bristol and was drowned for he was seen coming down to the boat; and,
a'ter that, they never heard no more about him."
"Well, but Tom, the old woman's all right now?"
"Yes, she's right enough; but, where be her husband, and where be her
son? she'll never plague them any more, that's pretty sartain."
The feelings of Mrs Forster at the finale of this discourse are not
easy to be portrayed. One heavy load was off her mind--Mr Spinney was
not dead; but how much had she also to lament? She perceived that she
had been treacherously kidnapped by those who detested her conduct, but
had no right to inflict the punishment. The kind and feeling conduct of
her husband and of her son,--the departure of the one, and supposed
death of the other, were blows which nearly overwhelmed her. She
tottered back to her cell in a state of such extreme agitation, as to
occasion a return of fever, and for many days she was unable to quit her
bed.