THE DESOLATE HOUSE.
Alas! It desolately stands
Without a roof, the gates fallen from their band,
The casements all broke down, no chimney left!
_—Allan Ramsay._
The sun rose next morning upon a scene of ruin that defies description.
The house was almost a wreck. The roof, the chimneys, and the shutters
of the upper story were gone. The windows were shattered and driven in.
The grounds also were literally laid waste. All traces of field, and
garden, and flower yard were washed away. Trees were torn up by the
roots, fences were leveled, outbuildings blown down, and all swept away
by the flood. Cattle and poultry were drowned, and their bodies carried
off by the sea.
Yes! the isle was indeed a desert, and the house was a ruin, with the
exception of the lower story, which, having been built of stronger
material, and being less exposed to the violence of the wind, had
remained entire.
If the scene without was wretched, the scene within was scarcely less
so.
The shipwrecked sailors had gone down to the beach for the purpose of
searching for the bodies of the drowned men, if, perchance, they might
have been thrown up, and of hailing any boat that might pass within
hail.
Agnes and her child had been removed from the open and exposed upper
chamber to the lower one, which was more comfortable. Alice, forgetful
of her own fears and cares, bestowed upon the unfortunate young woman
the most affectionate attention. Miss Joe, broken-hearted and half
crazy, yet still governed by her inveterate habits of order and
industry, went about putting things to rights, groaning, wringing her
hands, and getting breakfast. Diogenes brought wood and water, and stood
shivering and waiting orders without the door.
Very soon after sunrise General Garnet, with two of his servants,
arrived from the mainland. The wild ruin that reigned around, the deep
distress that prevailed within the house, arrested all speech of blame
upon his lips. He kissed Alice, expressing his gratitude to Heaven that
she was saved. He condoled with Miss Joe, said that he would send over
workmen to repair the house, offered any other assistance in his power,
and requested to know in what manner he could serve her. But Miss Joe
shook her head dolefully, said that she had always lived without alms,
and that she could not receive any now; that she had not very long to
live, but hoped she should not die a pauper.
After breakfast General Garnet took Alice home.
For many days nothing was talked of but the storm and the wreck. And
every day brought in news of some disaster that had been wrought by the
tempest.
* * * * *
One day, as Alice sat sewing in her room, General Garnet entered with a
cloud upon his brow, and the newly arrived Norfolk _Signal_ in his hand.
To his wife’s startled look and anxious question, he answered:
“A heavy misfortune has befallen our neighbor Hardcastle. His son Lionel
was lost in the storm of the 28th.”
“Oh, Heaven!”
“Yes, fearful as the wind was here, it was even more terrific farther
down the coast. The _Falcon_, homeward bound, was about entering Hampton
Roads when overtaken by that horrible and disastrous tempest. The
_Falcon_ suffered frightfully. In the midst of the storm several of the
crew and one of the midshipmen were washed overboard. Here is the full
account in the leading column of the _Signal_. Read it. I must go over
and see poor Hardcastle. By the way, Alice, this makes a very great
change in the prospects of your young friend, Magnus. Hardcastle had no
other child but Lionel, and has no near relation but his nephew Magnus,
has he?”
“No,” said Alice, looking surprised at such a question at such a time.
“Hum-m-me! then, indeed, this ‘ill wind’ has blown a great inheritance
to Magnus. I suppose that after his uncle has somewhat recovered the
shock of his bereavement he will recall Magnus. He will scarcely permit
him to pursue the study of medicine now.”
“I think that Magnus will prefer the study of some profession. I am sure
that he wishes to live an earnest and useful life.”
“Well, I do not know a more earnest purpose, or a more useful life, than
that lived through in the proper administration of a large estate. By
the way, Alice, I hope you have not, with your usual indifference in all
things and to all persons, neglected to write to the poor boy during his
banishment among total strangers in Baltimore?”
“I write to him every week.”
“That is right; perfectly right. I am very glad to hear it. Apropos,
Alice, were not Magnus and Elsie very great friends?”
“They were very much attached to each other,” replied Alice, with her
innocent eyes still dilating with wonder at these queries.
“‘Very much attached to each other.’ Hum-m-me! Mount Calm and Hemlock
Hollow would form one very magnificent estate, joining as they do—about
ten thousand acres, would they not be?”
“Yes,” said Alice abstractedly.
“Yes, certainly, that is it. Let us see—how old is this youth?”
“About seventeen, I believe.”
“Yes, and he will marry very early, if he can find a wife to suit him.
He will settle very soon to serious, practical life. He is just the
young man to do it. Alice, when he returns I hope you will not permit
him quite to forget old friends. Stay—our Elsie is—twelve years of age?”
“Not quite.”
“Well, nearly twelve—then thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen—four
years. Four years will quickly pass away; and our young gentleman can
wait that long. At the end of four years I shall bring Elsie home from
school. She will then be sixteen years of age. You were but a year older
when you were married, Alice. Say, answer me—you were but seventeen when
you were married, were you not?”
“I was but seventeen,” replied Alice.
And here the conference ended.
General Garnet found Mr. Hardcastle in the extremity of grief. He had
only received the dire intelligence of the loss of his only and
well-beloved son, in a letter of condolence from the captain of the
ship. He had nothing new, therefore, to learn from General Garnet, but
thanked him for his visit and his sympathy. General Garnet remained with
him all day and until a late hour of the night, when he took his leave.
Days, weeks elapsed, before Mr. Hardcastle found courage to summon
Magnus to Hemlock Hollow, though in the meantime Magnus had written
often, expressing his heartfelt sorrow and his earnest sympathy, and
entreating permission to come home and see his uncle. At last Mr.
Hardcastle wrote and recalled him. Magnus came and remained over
Christmas. Then, his uncle being restored to his usual state of
composure and cheerfulness, and being engaged in his customary
occupations of agriculture and politics, hunting, fishing, and company,
Magnus begged leave to return to his studies. His uncle opposed the
proposition. What was the use of his studying a profession now? Could he
not be contented to stay at home and keep a childless old man company?
But Magnus wished to be busy again.
“Well, could he not be busy enough overseeing the overseer, and keeping
the plantation in order?” queried the old man testily.
But Magnus was very much in earnest, and persisted in his purpose.
Finally, the old man angrily threatened to disown him, and let him go.
And Magnus, preferring his profession to any inheritance, departed.
But let the reader rest assured that the old gentleman had not the
slightest intention of discarding the fine boy, whom he loved as a
second son.