I mounted the stage-coach at daybreak the next day, in company with a
sallow Frenchman from St. Domingo, his fiddle-case, an ape, and two
female blacks. The Frenchman, after passing the suburbs, took out his
violin and amused himself with humming to his own _tweedle-tweedle_. The
monkey now and then munched an apple, which was given to him from a
basket by the blacks, who gazed with stupid wonder, and an exclamatory
_La! La!_ upon the passing scenery, or chattered to each other in a sort
of open-mouthed, half-articulate, monotonous, singsong jargon.
The man looked seldom either on this side or that; and spoke only to
rebuke the frolics of the monkey, with a "Tenez! Dominique! Prenez
garde! Diable noir!"
As to me, my thought was busy in a thousand ways. I sometimes gazed at
the faces of my _four_ companions, and endeavoured to discern the
differences and samenesses between them. I took an exact account of the
features, proportions, looks, and gestures of the monkey, the Congolese,
and the Creole Gaul. I compared them together, and examined them apart.
I looked at them in a thousand different points of view, and pursued,
untired and unsatiated, those trains of reflections which began at each
change of tone, feature, and attitude.
I marked the country as it successively arose before me, and found
endless employment in examining the shape and substance of the fence,
the barn, and the cottage, the aspect of earth and of heaven. How great
are the pleasures of health and of mental activity!
My chief occupation, however, related to the scenes into which I was
about to enter. My imaginations were, of course, crude and inadequate;
and I found an uncommon gratification in comparing realities, as they
successively occurred, with the pictures which my wayward fancy had
depicted.
I will not describe my dreams. My proper task is to relate the truth.
Neither shall I dwell upon the images suggested by the condition of the
country through which I passed. I will confine myself to mentioning the
transactions connected with the purpose of my journey.
I reached Baltimore at night. I was not so fatigued but that I could
ramble through the town. I intended, at present, merely the
gratification of a stranger's curiosity. My visit to Mrs. Watson and her
brother I designed should take place on the morrow. The evening of my
arrival I deemed an unseasonable time.
While roving about, however, it occurred to me, that it might not be
impolitic to find the way to their habitation even now. My purposes of
general curiosity would equally be served whichever way my steps were
bent; and to trace the path to their dwelling would save me the trouble
of inquiries and interrogations to-morrow.
When I looked forward to an interview with the wife of Watson, and to
the subject which would be necessarily discussed at that interview, I
felt a trembling and misgiving at my heart. "Surely," thought I, "it
will become me to exercise immeasurable circumspection and address; and
yet how little are these adapted to the impetuosity and candour of my
nature!
"How am I to introduce myself? What am I to tell her? That I was a sort
of witness to the murder of her husband? That I received from the hand
of his assassin the letter which I afterwards transmitted to her? and,
from the same hands, the bills contained in his girdle?
"How will she start and look aghast! What suspicions will she harbour?
What inquiries shall be made of me? How shall they be disarmed and
eluded, or answered? Deep consideration will be necessary before I trust
myself to such an interview. The coming night shall be devoted to
reflection upon this subject."
From these thoughts I proceeded to inquiries for the street mentioned in
the advertisement, where Mrs. Watson was said to reside. The street,
and, at length, the habitation, was found. Having reached a station
opposite, I paused and surveyed the mansion. It was a wooden edifice of
two stories, humble, but neat. You ascended to the door by several stone
steps. Of the two lower windows, the shutters of one were closed, but
those of the other were open. Though late in the evening, there was no
appearance of light or fire within.
Beside the house was a painted fence, through which was a gate leading
to the back of the building. Guided by the impulse of the moment, I
crossed the street to the gate, and, lifting the latch, entered the
paved alley, on one side of which was a paled fence, and on the other
the house, looking through two windows into the alley.
The first window was dark like those in front; but at the second a light
was discernible. I approached it, and, looking through, beheld a plain
but neat apartment, in which parlour, kitchen, and nursery seemed to be
united. A fire burned cheerfully in the chimney, over which was a
tea-kettle. On the hearth sat a smiling and playful cherub of a boy,
tossing something to a black girl who sat opposite, and whose innocent
and regular features wanted only a different hue to make them beautiful.
Near it, in a rocking-chair, with a sleeping babe in her lap, sat a
female figure in plain but neat and becoming attire. Her posture
permitted half her face to be seen, and saved me from any danger of
being observed.
This countenance was full of sweetness and benignity, but the sadness
that veiled its lustre was profound. Her eyes were now fixed upon the
fire and were moist with the tears of remembrance, while she sung, in
low and scarcely-audible strains, an artless lullaby.
This spectacle exercised a strange power over my feelings. While
occupied in meditating on the features of the mother, I was unaware of
my conspicuous situation. The black girl, having occasion to change her
situation, in order to reach the ball which was thrown at her, unluckily
caught a glance of my figure through the glass. In a tone of half
surprise and half terror, she cried out, "Oh! see dare! a man!"
I was tempted to draw suddenly back, but a second thought showed me the
impropriety of departing thus abruptly and leaving behind me some alarm.
I felt a sort of necessity for apologizing for my intrusion into these
precincts, and hastened to a door that led into the same apartment. I
knocked. A voice somewhat confused bade me enter. It was not till I
opened the door and entered the room, that I fully saw in what
embarrassments I had incautiously involved myself.
I could scarcely obtain sufficient courage to speak, and gave a confused
assent to the question, "Have you business with me, sir?" She offered me
a chair, and I sat down. She put the child, not yet awakened, into the
arms of the black, who kissed it and rocked it in her arms with great
satisfaction, and, resuming her seat, looked at me with inquisitiveness
mingled with complacency.
After a moment's pause, I said, "I was directed to this house as the
abode of Mr. Ephraim Williams. Can he be seen, madam?"
"He is not in town at present. If you will leave a message with me, I
will punctually deliver it."
The thought suddenly occurred, whether any more was needful than merely
to leave the bills suitably enclosed, as they already were, in a packet.
Thus all painful explanations might be avoided, and I might have reason
to congratulate myself on his seasonable absence. Actuated by these
thoughts, I drew forth the packet, and put it into her hand, saying, "I
will leave this in your possession, and must earnestly request you to
keep it safe until you can deliver it into his own hands."
Scarcely had I said this before new suggestions occurred. Was it right
to act in this clandestine and mysterious manner? Should I leave these
persons in uncertainty respecting the fate of a husband and a brother?
What perplexities, misunderstandings, and suspenses might not grow out
of this uncertainty? and ought they not to be precluded at any hazard to
my own safety or good name?
These sentiments made me involuntarily stretch forth my hand to retake
the packet. This gesture, and other significances in my manners, joined
to a trembling consciousness in herself, filled my companion with all
the tokens of confusion and fear. She alternately looked at me and at
the paper. Her trepidation increased, and she grew pale. These emotions
were counteracted by a strong effort.
At length she said, falteringly, "I will take good care of them, and
will give them to my brother."
She rose and placed them in a drawer, after which she resumed her seat.
On this occasion all my wariness forsook me. I cannot explain why my
perplexity and the trouble of my thoughts were greater upon this than
upon similar occasions. However it be, I was incapable of speaking, and
fixed my eyes upon the floor. A sort of electrical sympathy pervaded my
companion, and terror and anguish were strongly manifested in the
glances which she sometimes stole at me. We seemed fully to understand
each other without the aid of words.
This imbecility could not last long. I gradually recovered my composure,
and collected my scattered thoughts. I looked at her with seriousness,
and steadfastly spoke:--"Are you the wife of Amos Watson?"
She started:--"I am indeed. Why do you ask? Do you know any thing
of----?" There her voice failed.
I replied with quickness, "Yes. I am fully acquainted with his destiny."
"Good God!" she exclaimed, in a paroxysm of surprise, and bending
eagerly forward, "my husband is then alive! This packet is from him.
Where is he? When have you seen him?"
"'Tis a long time since."
"But where, where is he now? Is he well? Will he return to me?"
"Never."
"Merciful Heaven!" (looking upwards and clasping her hands,) "I thank
thee at least for his life! But why has he forsaken me? Why will he not
return?"
"For a good reason," said I, with augmented solemnity, "he will never
return to thee. Long ago was he laid in the cold grave."
She shrieked; and, at the next moment, sunk in a swoon upon the floor. I
was alarmed. The two children shrieked, and ran about the room terrified
and unknowing what they did. I was overwhelmed with somewhat like
terror, yet I involuntarily raised the mother in my arms, and cast about
for the means of recalling her from this fit.
Time to effect this had not elapsed, when several persons, apparently
Mrs. Watson's neighbours, and raised by the outcries of the girls,
hastily entered the room. They looked at me with mingled surprise and
suspicion; but my attitude, being not that of an injurer but helper; my
countenance, which showed the pleasure their entrance, at this critical
moment, afforded me; and my words, in which I besought their assistance,
and explained, in some degree, and briefly, the cause of those
appearances, removed their ill thoughts.
Presently, the unhappy woman, being carried by the new-comers into a
bedroom adjoining, recovered her sensibility. I only waited for this. I
had done my part. More information would be useless to her, and not to
be given by me, at least in the present audience, without embarrassment
and peril. I suddenly determined to withdraw, and this, the attention of
the company being otherwise engaged, I did without notice. I returned to
my inn, and shut myself up in my chamber. Such was the change which,
undesigned, unforeseen, half an hour had wrought in my situation. My
cautious projects had perished in their conception. That which I had
deemed so arduous, to require such circumspect approaches, such
well-concerted speeches, was done.
I had started up before this woman as if from the pores of the ground. I
had vanished with the same celerity, but had left her in possession of
proofs sufficient that I was neither spectre nor demon. "I will visit
her," said I, "again. I will see her brother, and know the full effect
of my disclosure. I will tell them all that I myself know. Ignorance
would be no less injurious to them than to myself; but, first, I will
see the Maurices."