CHAPTER XXIII.

I again resumed the manuscript, trembling for the revelations which it

might make.

"Never again," wrote my mother, "did I behold my noble, gallant father.

His death was sudden, as if shot down in the battle field, without one

warning weakness or pain. In the green summer of his days he fell, and

long did my heart vibrate from the shock. How desolate to me was the

home to which I returned! The household fire was indeed extinguished.

The household god laid low. I saw at one glance that in my breast alone

his memory was enshrined; that there alone was sacred incense burning.

Mrs. Lynn, (I will speak of her by her name hereafter,) though only one

year had passed since his death, was assuming those light, coquettish

airs which accord as little with the robes of widowhood as the hues of

the rainbow or the garlands of spring.

"I saw with exquisite pain and shame, that she looked upon me as a rival

of her maturer charms, and gladly yielded to my wish for retirement. She

always spoke of me as 'the child,' the 'little bookworm,' impressing

upon the minds of all the idea of my extreme juvenility. I _was_ young;

but I had arrived to years of womanhood, and my stature equalled hers.

"I will pass on to the scene which decided my destiny. I do not wish to

swell the volume of my life. Let it be brief as it is sad.

"Very near the fortress is another rocky bulwark, rising out of the

waves in stern and rugged majesty, known by the peculiar name of the

Rip-Raps. It is the work of man, who paved the ocean bed with rocks, and

conceived the design of a lofty castle, from whose battlements the

star-spangled banner should wave, and whose massy turrets should

perpetuate the honors of Carolina's most gifted son. The design was

grand, but has never been completed. It has, however, finished

apartments, which form a kind of summer hotel, where many statesmen

often resort, that they may lay down, for a while, the burden of care,

and breathe an atmosphere pure from political corruption, and cool from

party zeal and strife.

"At the time of which I speak the chief magistrate of the nation sought

refuge there for a short while, from the oppressive responsibilities of

his exalted station, and regardless of his wish for retirement, or

rather irresistibly impelled to pay honors to one whose brows were

wreathed with the soldier's laurel as well as the statesman's crown,

every one sought his rocky and wave-washed retreat.

"Mrs. Lynn joined a party of ladies, who, escorted by officers, went

over in barges to be introduced to the gallant veteran. The martial

spirit of my father throbbed high in my bosom, and I longed to behold

one, whom he would have delighted to honor. Mrs. Lynn did not urge me,

but there were others who supplied her deficiency, and convinced me I

was not considered an intruder. Among the gentlemen who composed our

party was a stranger, by the name of St. James, to whom Mrs. Lynn paid

the most exclusive attention. She was still in the bloom of womanhood,

and though far from being beautiful, was showy and attractive. All the

embellishments of dress were called into requisition to enhance the

charms of nature, and to produce the illusion of youth. She always

sought the admiration of strangers, and Mr. St. James was sufficiently

distinguished in appearance to render him worthy of her fascinations. I

merely noticed that he had a fine person, a graceful air, and a musical

voice; then casting my eyes on the sea-green waters, over which our

light barge was bounding, I did not lift them again till we were near

the dark gray rocks of the Rip-Raps, and I beheld on the brink of the

stone steps we were to ascend, a tall and stately form, whose foam-white

locks were rustling in the breeze of ocean. There he stood, like the

statue of liberty, throned on a granite cliff, with waves rolling below

and sunbeams resting on his brow.

"As we stepped from the barge and ascended the rugged steps, the

chieftain bent his warlike figure and drew us to the platform with all

the grace and gallantry of youth. As I was the youngest of the party, he

received me with the most endearing familiarity. I almost thought he was

going to kiss me, so close he brought his bronzed cheek to mine.

"'God bless you, my child!' said he, taking both hands in his and

looking earnestly in my face. 'I knew your father well. He was a gallant

officer,--a noble, honest man. Peace to his ashes! The soldier fills an

honored grave.'

"This tribute to my father's memory filled my eyes with tears, while my

cheek glowed with gratified pride. I was proud that I was a soldier's

daughter, proud to hear his praise from the lips of valor and of rank.

"I had brought a beautiful bouquet of flowers as a girlish offering to

the veteran. I had been thinking of something pretty and poetical to say

when I presented it, but the words died on my lips, and I extended it in

silence with the trembling hand of diffidence.

"'Now,' said he, with a benignant smile, turning the flowers round and

round, as if admiring them all, 'I am the envy of every young man

present. They would all exchange the laurels of the soldier for the

blossoms gathered by the hand of beauty.'

"'Let me have the privilege of holding them for you, sir, while we

remain,' said Mr. St. James, with a courtly grace consistent with the

name he bore, and they were submitted with equal courtesy to his

keeping.

"These are trifles to relate, my Gabriella, but they had an influence on

my life and yours. They laid the foundation of a dislike and jealousy in

the mind of my step-mother, that embittered all our future intercourse.

'The child' was distinguished, not only by the hero who was the lion of

the scene, but by the stranger she was resolved to charm, and her

usually bright countenance was clouded with malice and discontent.

Forgetful of politeness, she hurried away those who came in the same

barge with herself, anxious to see me immured once more in the walls of

the Fort.

"After our distinguished host had bidden farewell to his elder guests,

whom he accompanied to the steps, he turned to me with a look so benign

and affectionate I never shall forget it, and stooping, kissed my

forehead.

"'As your father's friend, and your country's father, dear child, permit

me'--he said, then giving my hand to St. James, who was waiting to

assist me into the barge, bowed a dignified adieu.

"'You do indeed make us envy you, sir,' cried St. James, as he stood

with uncovered head in the centre of the boat, while it glided from the

walls, and holding up the bouquet which he had had the boldness to

retain.

"The statesman smiled and shook his snow-crowned head, and there he

stood, long after we receded from the rocks, his tall, erect figure

defined on the dark blue sky.

"I never saw that noble form again. The brave old soldier died a soldier

of the Cross, and fills a Christian's grave. He sleeps in death,

embosomed in the quiet shades he loved best in life.

'And Honor comes, a pilgrim gray,

To deck the turf that wraps his clay.'

"I did not think of paying this tribute to his memory; but that scene

was so indelibly stamped on my mind, I could not help delineating it. It

was then and there I first beheld your father.

"The barge was rowed by eight soldiers, dressed in uniform, and their

oars all dipped and flashed with simultaneous motion. Nothing could be

more harmoniously beautiful; but the restless spirit of Mrs. Lynn

suggested a change.

"'Raise the sail,' she exclaimed, 'this is too monotonous. I prefer it a

thousand times to rowing.'

"'I beg, I entreat, madam,' cried I, unable to repress my apprehensions,

'do not have it done now. I am very foolish, but I cannot help it,

indeed I cannot.'

"I was not accustomed to the water as she was, having been absent so

long; and even when a child, I had an unconquerable dread of sailing.

She knew this, and it prompted her suggestion.

"'Affectation of fear may be pardoned in a _child_, Rosalie,' said she,

with a sarcastic smile, 'but it is nevertheless very unbecoming.'

"'Do not indulge one apprehension,' exclaimed St. James, stepping over

one of the seats and sitting down at my side. 'I am one of the best

sailors in the world. _Non timui--Cæsarem vehis._ Give the sails to the

winds, boys. I will make them my vassals.'

"His eyes beamed with conscious power, as the white sheet unrolled and

swelled gracefully in the breeze. It was strange, all my fears were

gone, and I felt as serene a confidence as if his vaunting words were

true. The strong will, the magic smile were acting on me like a spell,

and I yielded unresistingly to their influence.

"Mrs. Lynn would gladly have revoked her commands, since they had called

forth such an expression of interest for me; but the boat swept on with

triumphant speed, and even I participated in the exhilaration of its

motion. Just before we reached the shore, Mrs. Lynn bent forward and

took the flowers from the hand of St. James before he was aware of her

design.

"'Is that mignonette which is so oppressively fragrant?' she asked,

lifting the bouquet to her nose. She was seated near the side of the

barge, and her head was gracefully inclined. Whether from accident or

design, I think it was the latter, the flowers dropped into the river.

"In the flashing of an eye-glance, St. James leaped over the boat side,

seized the flowers, held them up in triumph over his head, and swam to

the shore. He stood there with dripping garments and smiling lips as we

landed, while the paleness of terror still blanched my face, and its

agitation palpitated in my heart.

"'I must deny myself the pleasure of escorting you to the threshold,'

said he, glancing at me, while he shook the brine-drops from his arms.

His head had not been submerged. He had held that royally above the

waves. 'But,' added he, with graceful gallantry, 'I have rescued a

trophy which I had silently vowed to guard with my life;--a treasure

doubly consecrated by the touch of valor and the hand of beauty.'

"'Well,' exclaimed Mrs. Lynn, as soon as we were at home, tossing her

bonnet disdainfully on the sofa, 'if I ever was disgusted with boldness

and affectation I have been to-day. But one thing let me tell you, Miss

Rosalie, if you cannot learn more propriety of manners, if you make such

sickening efforts to attract the attention of strangers, I will never

allow you to go in public, at least in company with me.'

"I was perfectly thunderstruck. She had never given such an exhibition

of temper before. I had always thought her cold and selfish, but she

seemed to have a careless good-nature, which did not prepare me for this

ebullition of passion. I did not reflect that this was the first time I

had clashed with her interests,--that inordinate vanity is the parent of

envy, hatred, and all uncharitableness.

"I did not attempt to reply, but hastily turned to leave the room. She

had been my father's wife, and the sacredness of _his_ name shielded her

from disrespect.

"'Stop, Miss,' she cried, 'and hear what I have to say. If Mr. St. James

calls this evening, you are not to make your appearance. He was only

making sport of your childishness to-day, and cares no more for you than

the sands of the sea-shore. He is no company for you, I assure you. He

is a gentleman of the world, and has no taste for the bread and butter

misses just let loose from a boarding-school. Do you hear me?'

"'I do, madam.'

"'Do you mean to obey?'

"'I do, madam.'

"I will not attempt to describe my feelings that night as I sat alone in

my room, and heard the voice of St. James mingling with my

step-mother's, which was modulated to its sweetest, most seductive tone.

The desolateness of my future life spread out before me. A home without

love! Oh, what dreariness! Oh, what iciness! Had my father lived, how

different it would have been. I thought of the happy vacation, when he

opened his warm heart and took me in, and then I wept to think how cold

the world seemed since he had left it.

"It was a midsummer's night, and all the windows were open to admit the

sea-born breeze. They were open, but bars of gauze wire were put up at

the windows and doors to exclude the mosquitos. A very small balcony

opened out of my room, where I usually sat listening to the inspiring

strains of the band, that, marching on the ramparts, sent their rich,

thrilling notes in rolling echoes over the moonlight waves.

"It was playing now, that martial band, and the bay was one sheet of

burning silver. I had never seen it look so resplendently beautiful, and

I could not help thinking that beneath that gently rippling glory, there

was peace for the sad and persecuted heart. As I sat there leaning on

the railing, gazing into the shining depths of ocean, St. James passed.

It was very early in the evening. Why had he left so soon? He started,

paused, turned, and approached the balcony.

"'Why are you so cruel as to refuse to see me, after showing such

knightly devotion to your cause?' he asked, leaning on the side of the

balcony and looking earnestly in my face, on which the tear-drops were

still glittering.

"'I have not refused,' I answered hastily, 'but do not wait to talk with

me now. Mrs. Lynn would be much displeased; she would consider it very

improper. I pray you not to think me rude, but indeed I must retire.'

"I rose in an agony of terror, lest my step-mother should hear his

voice, and wreak her wrath on me.

"'Fear not,' he cried, catching my hand and detaining me. 'She is

engaged with company, who will not hasten away as I have done. I will

not stay long, nor utter one syllable that is not in harmony with the

holy tranquillity of the hour. I am a stranger in name, but is there not

something that tells you I was born to be your friend? I know there

is,--I see it in your ingenuous, confiding eye. Only answer me one

question,--Was it your _own will_, or the will of another that governed

your actions to-night?'

"'The will of another,' I answered. 'Let that be a sufficient reason for

urging your departure. If I am forbidden to see you in the parlor, I

shall certainly be upbraided for speaking with you here.'

"It was very imprudent in me to speak so freely of my step-mother's

conduct. No questions of his should have drawn from me such an

assertion. But I was so young and inexperienced, and I had been goaded

almost to madness by her stinging rebukes. It was natural that I should

wish to vindicate myself from the charge of rudeness her

misrepresentations would bring against me.

"'I find you in sadness and tears,' said he, in a low, gentle tone; so

low it scarcely rose above the murmuring waves. 'They should not be the

companions of beauty and youth. Let me be your friend,--let me teach you

how to banish them.'

"'No, no,' I cried, frightened at my own boldness in continuing the

conversation so long. 'You are not my friend, or you would not expose me

to censure. Indeed you are not.'

"'I am gone; but tell me one thing,--you are not a prisoner?'

"'O no; heaven forbid.'

"'You walk on the ramparts.'

"'Sometimes.'

"'Adieu,--we shall meet again.'

"He was gone, and sweetly lingered in my ear the echo of his gently

persuasive voice. He had vanished like the bark that had just glided

along the waters, and like that had left a wake of brightness behind.

"I could not sleep. Excitement kept me wakeful and restless. I heard the

measured tread of the sentinel walking his 'lonely round,' and it did

not sound louder than the beating of my own heart. Hark! a soft, breezy

sound steals up just beneath my window. It is the vibration of the

guitar,--a deeptoned, melodious voice accompanies it. It is the voice of

St. James. He sings, and the strains fall upon the stilly night, soft as

the silver dew.

"Gabriella, I told you with my dying lips never to unseal this

manuscript till you were awakened to woman's destiny,--_love_. If you do

not sympathize with my emotions, lay it down, my child, the hour is not

yet come. If you have never heard a voice, whose faintest tones sink

into the lowest depths of your soul,--if you have never met a glance,

whose lightning rays penetrate to the innermost recesses of the heart,

reseal these pages. The feelings with which you cannot sympathize will

seem weakness and folly, and a daughter must not scorn a mother's bosom

record.

"Remember how lonely, how unfriended I was. The only eye that had beamed

on me with love was closed in death, the only living person on whom I

had any claims was cruel and unkind. Blame me not that I listened to a

stranger's accents, that I received his image into my heart, that I

enthroned it there, and paid homage to the kingly guest.

"It is in vain to linger thus. I met him again and again. I learned to

measure time and space by one line--where he _was_, and where he was

_not_. I learned to bear harshness, jeering, and wrong, because a door

of escape was opened, and the roses of paradise seemed blushing beyond.

I suffered him to be my friend--lover--husband."

I dropped the manuscript that I might clasp my hands in an ecstasy of

gratitude--

"My God,--I thank thee!" I exclaimed, sinking on my knees, and repeating

the emphatic words: "_friend--lover-husband_." "God of my mother,

forgive my dark misgivings."

Now I could look up. Now I could hold the paper with a firm hand. There

was nothing in store that I could not bear to hear, no misfortune I had

not courage to meet. Alas! alas!

Ernest Linwood; or, The Inner Life of the Author · 第 23 / 59 章