HERBERT GREYSON.
A kind, true heart, a spirit high,
That cannot fear and will not bow,
Is flashing in his manly eye
And stamped upon his brow.
--Halleck.
In a few minutes Capitola came bounding up the stairs again, exclaiming
joyously:
"Here he is, uncle! Here is Herbert Greyson! Come along, Herbert; you
must come in and see my new uncle!" And she broke into the room,
dragging before her astonished guardian a handsome, dark-eyed young
sailor, who bowed and then stood blushing at his enforced intrusion.
"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, "for bursting in upon you in this
way; but----"
"I dragged him here willy-nilly," said Capitola.
"Still, if I had had time to think I should not have intruded."
"Oh, say no more, sir. You are heartily welcome," exclaimed the old man,
thrusting out his rugged hand and seizing the bronzed one of the youth.
"Sit down, sir, sit down. Good Lord, how like!" he added, mentally.
Then, seeing the young sailor still standing, blushing and hesitating,
he struck his cane upon the floor and roared out:
"Demmy, sit down, sir! When Ira Warfield says sit down, he means sit
down!"
"Ira Warfield!" exclaimed the young man, starting back in
astonishment--one might almost say in consternation.
"Ay, sir; Ira Warfield! That's my name. Never heard any ill of it, did
you?"
The young man did not answer, but continued gazing in amazement upon the
speaker.
"Nor any good of it either, perhaps--eh, uncle?" archly put in Capitola.
"Silence, you monkey! Well, young man, well, what is the meaning of all
this?" exclaimed old Hurricane, impatiently.
"Oh, your pardon, sir; this was sudden. But you must know I had once a
relative of that name--an uncle."
"And have still, Herbert; and have still, lad. Come, come, boy; I am not
sentimental, nor romantic, nor melodramatic, nor nothing of that sort. I
don't know how to strike an attitude and exclaim, 'Come to my bosom,
sole remaining offspring of a dear departed sister' or any of the like
stage playing. But I tell you, lad, that I like your looks; and I like
what I have heard of you from this girl, and another old woman, now
dead; and so--But sit down, sit down! demmy, sir, sit down, and we'll
talk over the walnuts and the wine. Capitola, take your seat, too,"
ordered the old man, throwing himself into his chair. Herbert also drew
his chair up.
Capitola resumed her seat, saying to herself:
"Well, well, I am determined not to be surprised at anything that
happens, being perfectly clear in my own mind that this is all nothing
but a dream. But how pleasant it is to dream that I have found a rich
uncle and he has found a nephew, and that nephew is Herbert Greyson! I
do believe that I had rather die in my sleep than wake from this dream!"
"Herbert," said old Hurricane, as soon as they were gathered around the
table--"Herbert, this is my ward, Miss Black, the daughter of a deceased
friend. Capitola, this is the only son of my departed sister."
"Hem-m-m! We have had the pleasure of being acquainted with each other
before," said Cap, pinching up her lip and looking demure.
"But not of really knowing who 'each other' was, you monkey. Herbert,
fill your glass. Here's to our better acquaintance."
"I thank you, sir. I never touch wine," said the young man.
"Never touch wine! Here's another; here's a young prig! I don't believe
you--yes, I do, too! Demmy, sir, if you never touch wine it's because
you prefer brandy! Waiter!"
"I thank you, sir. Order no brandy for me. If I never use intoxicating
liquors it is because I gave a promise to that effect to my dying
mother."
"Say no more--say no more, lad. Drink water, if you like. It won't hurt
you!" exclaimed the old man, filling and quaffing a glass of champagne.
Then he said:
"I quarreled with your mother, Herbert, for marrying a man that I
hated--yes, hated, Herbert, for he differed with me about the tariff
and--the Trinity! Oh, how I hated him, boy, until he died! And then I
wondered in my soul, as I wonder even now, how I ever could have been so
infuriated against a poor fellow now cold in his grave, as I shall be in
time. I wrote to my sister and expressed my feelings; but, somehow or
other, Herbert, we never came to a right understanding again. She
answered my letter affectionately enough, but she refused to accept a
home for herself and child under my roof, saying that she thanked me for
my offer, but that the house which had been closed against her husband
ought never to become the refuge of his widow. After that we never
corresponded, and I have no doubt, Herbert, that she, naturally enough,
taught you to dislike me."
"Not so, sir; indeed, you wrong her. She might have been loyal to my
father's memory without being resentful toward you. She said that you
had a noble nature, but it was often obscured by violent passions. On
her dead-bed she bade me, should I ever meet you, to say that she
repented her refusal of your offered kindness."
"And consented that it should be transferred to her orphan boy?" added
Old Hurricane, with the tears like raindrops in his stormy eyes.
"No, sir, she said not so."
"But yet she would not have disapproved a service offered to her son."
"Uncle--since you permit me to call you so--I want nothing. I have a
good berth in the Susan and a kind friend in her captain."
"You have all your dear mother's pride, Herbert."
"And all his uncle's!" put in Cap.
"Hush, Magpie! But is the merchant service agreeable to you, Herbert?"
"Not perfectly, sir; but one must be content."
"Demmy, sir, my sister's son need not be content unless he has a mind
to! And if you prefer the navy----"
"No, sir. I like the navy even less than the merchant service."
"Then what would suit you, lad? Come, you have betrayed the fact that
you are not altogether satisfied."
"On the contrary, sir, I told you distinctly that I really wanted
nothing, and that I must be satisfied."
"And I say, demmy, sir! you sha'n't be satisfied unless you like to!
Come, if you don't like the navy, what do you say to the army, eh?"
"It is a proud, aspiring profession, sir," said the young man, as his
face lighted up with enthusiasm.
"Then, demmy, if you like the army, sir, you shall enter it! Yes, sir!
Demmy, the administration, confound them, has not done me justice, but
they'll scarcely dare to refuse to send my nephew to West Point when I
demand it."
"To West Point!" exclaimed Herbert, in delight.
"Ay, youngster, to West Point. I shall see to it when I pass through
Washington on my way to Virginia. We start in the early train to-morrow
morning. In the meantime, young man, you take leave of your captain,
pack up your traps and join us. You must go with me and make Hurricane
Hall your home until you go to West Point."
"Oh, what a capital old governor our uncle is!" exclaimed Cap, jumping
up and clapping her hands.
"Sir, indeed you overwhelm me with this most unexpected kindness! I do
not know as yet how much of it I ought to accept. But accident will make
me, whether or no, your traveling companion for a great part of the way,
as I also start for Virginia to-morrow, to visit dear friends there,
whose house was always my mother's home and mine, and who, since my
bereavement, have been to me like a dear mother and brother. I have not
seen them for years, and before I go anywhere else, even to your kind
roof, I must go there," said Herbert, gravely.
"And who are those dear friends of yours, Hebert, and where do they
live? If I can serve them they shall be rewarded for their kindness unto
you, my boy."
"Oh, sir, yes; you can indeed serve them. They are a poor widow and her
only son. She has seen better days, but now takes in sewing to support
herself and boy. When my mother was living, during the last years of her
life, when she also was a poor widow with an only son, they joined their
slender means and took a house and lived together. When my mother died,
leaving me a boy of ten years old, this poor woman still sheltered and
worked for me as for her own son until, ashamed of being a burden to
her, I ran away and went to sea."
"Noble, woman! I will make her fortune!" exclaimed Old Hurricane,
jumping up and walking up and down the floor.
"Oh, do, sir! Oh, do, dear uncle! I don't wish you to expend either
money or influence upon my fortunes; but, oh, do educate Traverse! He is
such a gifted lad--so intellectual! Even his Sunday-school teacher says
that he is sure to work his way to distinction, although now he is
altogether dependent on his Sunday-school for his learning. Oh, sir, if
you would only educate the son he'd make a fortune for his mother."
"Generous boy, to plead for your friends rather than for yourself. But I
am strong enough, thank God, to help you all. You shall go to West
Point. Your friend shall go to school and then to college," said Old
Hurricane, with a burst of honest enthusiasm.
"And where shall I go, sir?" inquired Cap.
"To the insane asylum, you imp!" exclaimed the old man; then, turning to
Herbert, he continued: "Yes, lad; I will do as I say; and as for the
poor but noble-hearted widow----"
"You'll marry her yourself, as a reward; won't you, uncle?" asked the
incorrigible Cap.
"Perhaps I will, you monkey, if it is only to bring somebody home to
keep you in order," said Old Hurricane; then, turning again to Herbert,
he resumed: "As to the widow, Herbert, I will place her above want."
"Over my head," cried Cap.
"And now, Herbert, I will trouble you to ring for coffee, and after we
have had that I think we had better separate and prepare for our journey
to-morrow."
Herbert obeyed, and, after the required refreshment had been served and
partaken of, the little circle broke up for the evening and soon after
retired to rest.
Early the next morning, after a hasty breakfast, the three took their
seats in the express train for Washington, where they arrived upon the
evening of the same day. They put up for the night at Brown's, and the
next day Major Warfield, leaving his party at their hotel, called upon
the President, the Secretary of the Navy and other high official
dignitaries, and put affairs in such a train that he had little doubt of
the ultimate appointment of his nephew to a cadetship at West Point.
The same evening, wishing to avoid the stage route over the mountains,
he took, with his party, the night boat for Richmond, where, in due
time, they arrived, and whence they took the valley line of coaches that
passed through Tip-Top, which they reached upon the morning of the
fourth day of their long journey. Here they found Major Warfield's
carriage waiting for him, and here they were to separate--Major Warfield
and Capitola to turn off to Hurricane Hall and Herbert Greyson to keep
on the route to the town of Staunton.
It was as the three sat in the parlor of the little hotel where the
stage stopped to change horses that their adieus were made.
"Remember, Herbert, that I am willing to go to the utmost extent of my
power to benefit the good widow and her son who were so kind to my
nephew in his need. Remember that! I hold it a sacred debt that I owe
them. Tell them so. And mind, Herbert, I shall expect you back in a week
at furthest."
"I shall be punctual, sir. God bless you, my dear uncle. You have made
me very happy in being the bearer of such glad tidings to the widow and
the fatherless. And now I hear the horn blowing--good-by, uncle;
good-by, Capitola. I am going to carry them great joy--such great joy,
uncle, as you, who have everything you want, can scarcely imagine." And,
shaking hands heartily with his companions, Herbert ran through the door
and jumped aboard the coach just as the impatient driver was about to
leave him behind.
As soon as the coach had rolled out of sight Major Warfield handed
Capitola into his carriage that had long been waiting, and took the seat
by her side, much to the scandalization of Wool, who muttered to his
horses:
"There, I told you so! I said how he'd go and bring home a young wife,
and behold he's gone and done it!"
"Uncle," said Capitola as the carriage rolled lazily along--"uncle, do
you know you never once asked Herbert the name of the widow you are
going to befriend, and that he never told you?"
"By George, that is true! How strange! Yet I did not seem to miss the
name. How did it ever happen, Capitola? Did he omit it on purpose, do
you think?"
"Why, no, uncle. He, boylike, always spoke of them as 'Traverse' and
'Traverse's mother'; and you, like yourself, called her nothing but the
'poor widow' and the 'struggling mother' and the 'noble woman,' and so
on, and her son as the 'boy,' the 'youth,' 'young Traverse,' Herbert's
'friend,' etc. I, for my part, had some curiosity to see whether you and
Herbert would go on talking of them forever without having to use their
surnames. And, behold, he even went away without naming them!"
"By George! and so he did. It was the strangest over-sight. But I'll
write as soon as I get home and ask him."
"No, uncle; just for the fun of the thing, wait until he comes back, and
see how long it will be and how much he will talk of them without
mentioning their names."
"Ha, ha, ha! So I will, Cap, so I will! Besides whatever their names
are, it's nothing to me. 'A rose by any other name would smell as
sweet,' you know. And if she is 'Mrs. Tagfoot Waddle' I shall still
think so good a woman exalted as a Montmorencie. Mind there, Wool; this
road is getting rough."
"Over it now, marster," said Wool, after a few heavy jolts. "Over it
now, missus; and de rest of de way is perfectly delightful."
Cap looked out of the window and saw before her a beautiful piece of
scenery--first, just below them, the wild mountain stream of the Demon's
Run, and beyond it the wild dell dented into the side of the mountain,
like the deep print of an enormous horse's hoof, in the midst of which,
gleaming redly among its richly-tinted autumn woods, stood Hurricane
Hall.