ONE OF FORTUNE'S SMILES.
"Fortune is merry,
And in this mood will give us anything."--JULIUS CÆSAR.
Captain Guy Campbell sat in the parlor of the Westport House, as the
flaming gilt signboard announced, his heels elevated on the
window-sill, his chair tipped back, a cigar in his mouth, and a
newspaper in his hand. Many people were passing in and out, some of
whom he greeted with a nod, others with a brief salutation, while he
still went on with his reading and smoking. There seemed to be
nothing very exciting in the paper, judging by Captain Campbell's
suppressed yawns; and he was about to throw it aside as worthless,
when a paragraph caught his eye, that brought him to his feet, as
suddenly as though those members were furnished with steel springs.
The paragraph was brief, and ran thus:
"If Mark Campbell, Esq., of Campbell's Isle, be still alive, he is
earnestly requested to call immediately at the office of C. Ringdon,
Attorney-at-Law, No 16 ---- street, Westport. In case of his death,
his heirs should apply.
C. RINGDON."
"Now, what in the name of Neptune and all his scaly court can this
mean?" ejaculated the amazed Captain Campbell.
"Should be happy to inform you," said a voice behind him, "only I
don't happen to know what you're talking about."
Captain Campbell turned round, and saw a fashionably dressed young
man, who had just entered, standing beside him.
"Ah, Stafford! how are you?" he said, extending his hand; "happy to
see you. What in the world brought you here?--the very last person I
ever expected to see in this quarter of the globe."
"Well," said Stafford, leisurely seating himself, "I came down here,
nominally, to transact some business for the governor; but the fact
is, I heard the Evening Star had arrived, and I wanted to pay my
devoirs to her majesty, the Queen of the Isle. How is pretty Lady
Sibyl?"
"Very well, and at present on a visit to the Rev. Mr. Brantwell's.
But look at this advertisement, here, in the Westport _Herald_. What
the deuce do you make of it?"
Stafford took the paper and carelessly glanced over the lines.
"Faith, I don't know. Somebody's left you a legacy, perhaps."
"Pooh! what a notion! Who under the sun is there to leave a legacy
to me? The Campbells are all as poor as Job's turkey."
"Well, there's your mother's relations--the Eyres. Old Richard Eyre,
the New York banker, is a millionaire, worth more hundred thousand
dollars than I could undertake to count. He might have died and left
you his money."
"And leave his own family without? A likely story," said Captain
Campbell.
"My dear fellow, he had no family, except a wife, and she has been
dead for many years. You may be certain he has left you his heir."
"By Jove! if it should prove to be true, that would be a streak of
good luck. But it cannot be. Dame Fortune would never bestow on a
Campbell any such friendly smile. They always were an impoverished
race, and always will be, I believe."
"Don't be too confident. Strange things happen sometimes. For
instance, I saw something strange a night or two ago.
"Yes? What is it?"
"Weil, you see, about dark I was wandering about the shore, enjoying
a cigar and the beauty of the evening, and ruminating whether it
wouldn't be advisable to take a boat and go over to see her adorable
majesty, Queen Sibyl. Most likely my cogitation would have ended in
my going, only, unfortunately, there was no boat to be seen. I was
about to turn away in despair, when I suddenly espied a boat
containing two persons land at some distance below where I stood.
One was a young fellow, tall and good looking, with a certain air of
aristocratic hauteur about him that told me he was not to be
interfered with. But his companion--oh, ye gods and little fishes!
what a perfect little sylph she was! Such a miraculous combination
of blue eyes, yellow curls, snowy complexion, pink cheeks, and red,
kissable lips, it never was my good fortune to encounter before. But
what struck me most forcibly, was her resemblance to some one I had
seen before and after puzzling myself for a long time, I at length
discovered she was the very image of pretty little Christie, of the
isle."
"Christie! oh, pooh! it couldn't have been she," said Captain
Campbell, with an uneasy start.
"Of course, it couldn't have been she, with so dainty a knight as
that, but it was most confoundedly like her, or what she was when I
saw her last--four years ago; though I dare say she has greatly
changed since then."
"Well, what was there so strange about a handsome fellow and a pretty
girl landing on the beach, to interest the nonchalant Will Stafford?"
asked Captain Campbell.
"Listen--I haven't got to the strange part of my story yet. They
walked up the beach to the road, and I could see the girl was
terrified and excited, while he tried to soothe and quiet her. My
curiosity was aroused; for, 'pon my soul, Campbell, I never saw a
lovelier little creature; and with a sort of idea they were up to
some mischief, I followed them. It was nearly dark, and they hurried
on so fast they did not notice me, and I tracked them into one of the
most obscure streets of the town, and saw them enter a little,
secluded, Methodist meeting-house.'
"Well?" said his auditor.
"Well, sir, the fellow left her there and went off. I crept softly
in, and in the obscurity hid behind a post, determined to see the
end. Dark as it was, I could see she trembled with inward emotion,
and crouched down in her seat, with her face hidden in her hands, as
if terror, remorse, sorrow, or some other feeling, was weighing down
her heart."
"Wonder the gay Will Stafford did not approach and offer her
consolation," said the young captain, dryly.
"By Jove! I felt like doing it," said Mr. Stafford, in all
sincerity; "but I wanted to see what was up, for I knew now all could
not be quite right. Presently, the young man came back, and with him
a minister. All was clear as stars at noonday, now--this was a
runaway match, a clandestine marriage--something which is always
interesting to fast young men like myself. The happy pair stood up
before the clergyman, and the twain were soon made one flesh.
"My ears would have run themselves into points in order to hear the
better, but I listened in vain. The minister mumbled over the
ceremony so confoundedly low that I could not hear a single word--not
even the names of the parties, which I was particularly anxious to
find out. I suppose it was all right, however, for I saw the
clergyman pocket the fee, and the young man, tucking little blue-eyes
under his arm, walked off; and, faith, I'd given a trifle to have
stood in his place. I followed, not being ambitious to be locked up
all night, even in so holy a place as a church. Just as I went out,
I heard an awful shriek, and there the bride stood like one suddenly
turned to stone, while the bridegroom was trying to console her.
What scared her I don't know, but certainly I never saw a more
terrified look on any face than was on hers. Not wishing to be seen,
I drew back, and in a few minutes they started on. I followed them
as before, and saw the girl stop for a moment in a grocery store,
while he waited outside. Then they went down to the beach, he handed
her into the boat, pushed off, and they were gone--leaving me to rub
my eyes and wonder whether I was sleeping or waking. Now, what do
you think of this wedding on the sly, without friends, or witnesses,
or anything in the usual line?"
"Well, really, I cannot say, such things do not interest me as deeply
as they do you. Perhaps it's the Westport fashion."
"No; there's something wrong. He was evidently of a rank superior to
the girl. I could tell that, both by their dress and air, and
general appearance. I _would_ like to get at the bottom of this
mystery."
"Then why not see the minister who married them, and find out from
him?"
"Well, for sundry reasons. First, I didn't see his face, and
wouldn't know him if I stumbled over him. Second, it looks like a
rascally, low-bred trick; this tracking them and playing the spy,
that I should be ashamed to tell any one of it, but so old a friend
as you."
"Well, then, never mind this mysterious couple any more," said
Captain Campbell, impatiently; "but tell me what I had better do
about this advertisement."
"Why, go and see this C. Ringdon, attorney-at-law, at once, that's
all; I'll go with you; it's not ten minutes' walk from here."
"But if it should prove to be a humbug?" said Captain Campbell, as he
sallied forth, arm-in-arm with Stafford.
"Then thrash C. Ringdon, attorney-at-law, within an inch of his
life," said his pacific friend. "It's the only balm for a wounded
mind I know of."
Captain Campbell laughed; and the conversation turned on various
matters as they walked on.
In a short time they reached the office of C. Ringdon--a
dingy-looking, old house, with his name over the door, in exceedingly
dingy letters.
Mr. Ringdon, a sharp, shrewd-looking little man, sat alone in his
office, when they entered. He pushed up his spectacles, and surveyed
them keenly as they came in.
"You, I presume, are the Mr. Ringdon mentioned in this
advertisement?" said Captain Campbell, handing him the paper, and
pointing to the advertisement.
"I am sir. Can you give me any information concerning the parties in
question?"
"Faith, he ought to, being the principal party in question himself,"
interposed Stafford.
"How, sir,--are you a relative of these Campbells of the Isle?" asked
the attorney.
"Yes; the son of the Mark Campbell mentioned there."
"Ah! Are there any more of you? Is your father living?"
"No; he has been dead these four years; and there are _no more of
us_, as you are pleased to term it, but one sister. May I ask what
all this affair is about?"
"Certainly, Mr. Campbell. You are aware, perhaps, you had an uncle
in New York---Mr. Richard Eyre, the banker?"
"I knew it! Wasn't I just saying the old gentleman was at the bottom
of it?" said Stafford, giving Captain Campbell a dig in the ribs.
"I am aware of that fact, sir; he was my mother's only brother."
"Exactly. Well, he is dead."
"Indeed!" said the young man, gravely.
"Yes, sir; and, having no heirs of his own, he has left his whole
fortune to be divided equally between his sister's children. The sum
is enormous; and I beg leave to congratulate you on your good
fortune. I do not know the exact amount, and for further particulars
it will be necessary for you to visit New York, where the lawyer who
drew up the will resides. Here is his address. All you have to do,
is to prove your identity, settle a few preliminaries, and take
immediate possession of your fortune. Excuse me, gentlemen, I am
very busy, and, with your permission, will bid you good-morning."
And the little attorney bowed them politely out.
"Well, this is a streak of good luck!" exclaimed Stafford. "Upon my
word, Campbell, you must have been born with a silver spoon in your
mouth. I suppose you will start instantly for New York?"
"Not instantly, my dear Stafford. I must go and inform Sibyl of our
good fortune. Dear, noble girl, for her sake I am truly thankful for
this."
"Of course you ought to be; not many men are blessed with such a
sister as that radiant, glorious Sibyl. Have you any objections to
my accompanying you?"
"Delighted to have you, my dear fellow. Suppose we start now; we
will be at Brantwell's before dark."
"Just as you please, my dear sir. I suppose it will be 'sight for
sair een' to see her dazzling majesty, the Queen of the Isle, again."
A carriage was soon in readiness, and our two friends started to
impart this sudden glimpse of fortune's sunshine to Sibyl.
It was dark when they reached the parsonage--a handsome and rather
imposing-looking mansion--and were ushered into the drawing-room by a
neat-looking little maid. Sibyl and Mrs. Brantwell were seated
alone, Mr. Brantwell having gone to see a sick parishioner.
Sibyl joyfully hailed her brother, and smilingly greeted his
companion, who was an old friend and secret admirer. Poor Will
Stafford! The impressions the child Sibyl had formerly made on his
heart, time had nearly obliterated; but that radiant smile, those
glorious eyes and bewitching glance, totally finished him.
Good Mrs. Brantwell welcomed her guests in her usual hearty manner,
and with a jolly little laugh. But when she heard of the unexpected
good fortune of Sibyl and her brother, her rapturous delight knew no
bounds.
"Just to think of it!" she exclaimed, "my handsome Sibyl an heiress.
Oh, won't she create an excitement now? Young, rich, and beautiful!
Sibyl! Sibyl! what an enviable fate is yours!"
Sibyl's cheek flushed, and her eyes brightened, as she thought of
Willard. For _his_ sake she rejoiced over her new-found fortune.
Often and bitterly had she secretly regretted, and her pride revolted
at the idea of becoming the bride of one so far superior in wealth
and fortune. But now she was his equal! there was triumph, joy,
exultation in the thought. His aristocratic friends could not look
down on her now--could not despise her for her poverty. Look down on
her--a Campbell of the Isle! In other days, who would have dared to
do so and live? But times had changed since those days; and people
looked more now to dollars and dimes than to blood or noble ancestry.
Now she had both; she was his equal in wealth, as she was infinitely
his superior in every noble quality, and the triumphant thought sent
the blood rushing to her crimson cheeks, her red, glowing lips, and
the dark, Southern eyes of jet, lit up magnificently with pride,
love, and exultation. This fortune of hers she would cast at his
feet, with her passionate devotion, as she had already cast heart,
and life, and being, and soul.
"What are you thinking of, Sibyl?" said Captain Campbell, after
watching her a few moments, with a smile. "Your cheeks and eyes are
blazing, your whole face illuminated, as it were, with an inward
light of joy and triumph. Surely you do not care as much as this for
wealth?"
"Pooh! I know what it's all about," broke in Mrs. Brantwell, in her
customary matter-of-fact manner. "She's thinking that good-looking
Mr. Drummond will have a richer bride than he bargained for. Isn't
that so, Mistress Sibyl?"
Sibyl started from her reverie, and blushed deeply at finding her
thoughts thus interpreted. Stafford turned pale as he watched her
glowing face; and the conviction came home to him, for the first
time, that Sibyl Campbell's rare beauty was appreciated by other eyes
than his.
"By the way, when was Drummond here?" asked Captain Campbell.
"Day before yesterday--wasn't it, Sibyl? He doesn't visit us very
often--not half so often as so devoted a lover should. Oh, you
needn't try to annihilate me with those flashing eyes of yours, my
lady. I'm not a young gentleman, thank goodness! and am proof
against even those bright, angry glances. To be sure the young man
may have some plausible excuse; but it seems to me if I were in his
place I'd stick to you like a chesnut-burr, for fear you might slip
through my fingers. Poor, dear Mr. Brantwell was twice as attentive
in his courting days, and I never had any beauty worth mentioning,"
said Mrs. Brantwell, with her usual jolly laugh.
"I don't know about that, my dear lady," said Guy, gayly. "If I were
a marrying man, I'd sooner bend my knees to you than half the young
girls I know. Only I've an immense respect for Mr. Brantwell, there
is no telling what I might be tempted to do."
"Don't be too confident, Master Guy," said the good-humored lady. "I
wouldn't have anything to do with such a graceless young scamp as you
for any consideration; though, for the sake of sound morality and
good taste, I should hope you wouldn't fall in love with me. And
here comes Mr. Brantwell himself, who wouldn't approve of it, by any
means."
At this moment the good clergyman entered, and warmly greeted his
guests.
In a few words his wife told him of this astonishing good fortune.
Mr. Brantwell always took matters very coolly, a circumstance which
sometimes provoked his more excitable lady, as on the present
occasion--he merely elevated his eyebrows slightly in token of
surprise, and said:
"Indeed!"
"Yes, indeed!" responded his wife, irreverently mimicking his tone,
"and one would think fortunes were in the habit of pouring into
people's hands as they walked, by the way you take it."
"Well, where is the use of flying off at a tangent at everything,"
retorted her spouse, "as you do. I suppose, captain, you will start
for New York immediately?"
"Yes, to-morrow morning."
"And as Sibyl may be wanted, you had better take her, too," said Mr.
Brantwell.
"Very true; I never thought of it before. Can you be ready, Sibyl?"
Sibyl thought of Drummond, and asked, rather hesitatingly, "How long
will you be gone?"
"About a week--or two or three, at the farthest."
"Now, Sibyl," broke in Mrs. Brantwell, who seemed to possess the
faculty of reading people's thoughts, "never mind Mr. Drummond; I'll
break the news of your absence to him in the gentlest manner
possible. Your fortune is of more importance just now than his
lordship, who, no doubt, will follow you to New York when he hears
you are there."
There was no use getting angry with the good-humored old lady, so
Sibyl smiled, and promised to ready betimes next morning.
And early the following day the brother and sister set out for New
York.