"The best-laid schemes o' mice and men
Gang aft ajee."
After a few days, Charlton verified what Constance had said
about his not being very fast at Fort Hamilton, by coming
again to see them one morning. Fleda asked him if he could not
get another furlough to go with her home, but he declared he
was just spending one which was near out; and he could not
hope for a third in some time; he must be back at his post by
the day after to-morrow.
"When do you want to go, coz?"
"I would to-morrow, if I had anybody to go with me," said
Fleda, sighing.
"No, you wouldn't," said Constance; "you are well enough to go
out now, and you forget we are all to make Mrs. Thorn happy
to-morrow night."
"I am not," said Fleda.
"Not? you can't help yourself you must; you said you would."
"I did not, indeed."
"Well, then, I said it for you, and that will do just as well.
Why, my dear, if you don't just think! the Thorns will be
in a state I should prefer to go through a hedge of any
description rather than meet the trying demonstrations which
will encounter me on every side."
"I am going to Mrs. Decatur's," said Fleda; "she invited me
first, and I owe it to her; she has asked me so often and so
kindly."
"I shouldn't think you'd enjoy yourself there," said Florence;
"they don't talk a bit of English these nights. If I was
going, my dear, I would act as your interpreter, but my
destiny lies in another direction."
"If I cannot make anybody understand my French, I will get
somebody to condescend to my English," said Fleda.
"Why, do you talk French?" was the instant question from both
mouths.
"Unless she has forgotten herself strangely," said Charlton.
"Talk! she will talk to anybody's satisfaction that happens
to differ from her; and I think her tongue cares very little
which language it wags in. There is no danger about Fleda's
enjoying herself, where people are talking."
Fleda laughed at him, and the Evelyns rather stared at them
both.
"But we are all going to Mrs. Thorn's? you can't go alone?"
"I will make Charlton take me," said Fleda; "or rather I will
take him, if he will let me. Will you, Charlton? will you take
care of me to Mrs. Decatur's to-morrow night?"
"With the greatest pleasure, my dear coz; but I have another
engagement in the course of the evening."
"Oh, that is nothing," said Fleda; "if you will only go with
me, that is all I care for. You needn't stay but ten minutes.
And you can call for me," she added, turning to the Evelyns,
"as you come back from Mrs. Thorn's."
To this no objection could be made, and the ensuing raillery
Fleda bore with steadiness at least, if not with coolness; for
Charlton heard it, and she was distressed.
She went to Mrs. Decatur's the next evening in greater elation
of spirits than she had known since she left her uncle's;
delighted to be missing from the party at Mrs. Thorn's, and
hoping that Mr. Lewis would be satisfied with this very plain
hint of her mind. A little pleased, too, to feel quite free,
alone from too friendly eyes, and ears that had too lively a
concern in her sayings and doings. She did not in the least
care about going to Mrs. Decatur's; her joy was that she was
not at the other place. But there never was elation so
outwardly quiet. Nobody would have suspected its existence.
The evening was near half over when Mr. Carleton came in.
Fleda had half hoped he would be there, and now immediately
hoped she might have a chance to see him alone, and to thank
him for his flowers; she had not been able to do that yet. He
presently came up to speak to her, just as Charlton, who had
found attraction enough to keep him so long, came to tell her
he was going.
"You are looking better," said the former, as gravely as ever,
but with an eye of serious interest that made the words
something.
"I am better," said Fleda, gratefully.
"So much better that she is in a hurry to make herself worse,"
said her cousin. "Mr. Carleton, you are a professor of
medicine, I believe. I have an indistinct impression of your
having once prescribed a ride on horseback for somebody;
wouldn't you recommend some measure of prudence to her
consideration?"
"In general," Mr. Carleton answered, gravely; "but in the
present case I could not venture upon any special
prescription, Captain Rossitur."
"As, for instance, that she should remain in New York till she
is fit to leave it. By the way, what brought you here again in
such a hurry, Fleda? I haven't heard that yet."
The question was rather sudden. Fleda was a little taken by
surprise. Her face showed some pain and confusion both. Mr.
Carleton prevented her answer, she could not tell whether with
design.
"What imprudence do you charge your cousin with, Captain
Rossitur?"
"Why, she is in a great hurry to get back to Queechy, before
she is able to go anywhere begging me to find an escort for
her. It is lucky I can't. I didn't know I ever should be glad
to be 'posted up' in this fashion, but I am."
"You have not sought very far, Captain Rossitur," said the
voice of Thorn behind him. "Here is one that will be very
happy to attend Miss Fleda, whenever she pleases."
Fleda's shocked start and change of countenance was seen by
more eyes than one pair. Thorn's fell, and a shade crossed his
countenance, too, for an instant, that Fleda's vision was too
dazzled to see. Mr. Carleton moved away.
"Why are _you_ going to Queechy?" said Charlton, astonished.
His friend was silent a moment, perhaps for want of power to
speak. Fleda dared not look at him.
"It is not impossible unless this lady forbid me. I am not a
fixture."
"But what brought you here, man, to offer your services?" said
Charlton; "most ungallantly leaving so many pairs of bright
eyes to shine upon your absence."
"Mr. Thorn will not find himself in darkness here, Captain
Rossitur," said Mrs. Decatur.
"It's my opinion he ought, Ma'am," said Charlton.
"It is my opinion every man ought, who makes his dependance on
gleams of sunshine," said Mr. Thorn, rather cynically. "I
cannot say I was thinking of brightness, before or behind me."
"I should think not," said Charlton; "you don't look as if you
had seen any in a good while."
"A light goes out every now and then," said Thorn; "and it
takes one's eyes some time to get accustomed to it. What a
singular world we live in, Mrs. Decatur!"
"That is so new an idea," said the lady, laughing, "that I
must request an explanation."
"What new experience of its singularity has your wisdom made?"
said his friend. "I thought you and the world knew each
other's faces pretty well before."
"Then you have not heard the news?"
"What news?"
"Hum I suppose it is not about, yet," said Thorn,
composedly. "No you haven't heard it."
"But what, man?" said Charlton; "let's hear your news, for I
must be off."
"Why but it is no more than rumour yet but it is said that
strange things are coming to light about a name that used to
be held in very high respect."
"In this city?"
"In this city? yes; it is said proceedings are afoot against
one of our oldest citizens, on charge of a very grave
offence."
"Who and what offence? what do you mean?"
"Is it a secret, Mr. Thorn?" said Mrs. Decatur.
"If you have not heard, perhaps it is as well not to mention
names too soon; if it comes out, it will be all over directly;
possibly the family may hush it up, and, in that case, the
less said the better; but those have it in hand that will not
let it slip through their fingers."
Mrs. Decatur turned away, saying, "How shocking such things
were!" and Thorn, with a smile which did not, however, light
up his face, said
"You may be off, Charlton, with no concern for the bright eyes
you leave behind you; I will endeavour to atone for my
negligence elsewhere, by my mindfulness of them."
"Don't excuse you," said Charlton; but his eye catching at the
moment another attraction opposite in the form of man or
woman, instead of quitting the room, he leisurely crossed it
to speak to the new-comer; and Thorn, with an entire change of
look and manner, pressed forward, and offered his arm to
Fleda, who was looking perfectly white. If his words had
needed any commentary, it was given by his eye as it met hers,
in speaking the last sentence to Mrs. Decatur. No one was near
whom she knew, and Mr. Thorn led her out to a little back room
where the gentlemen had thrown off their cloaks, where the air
was fresher, and placing her on a seat, stood waiting before
her till she could speak to him.
"What do you mean, Mr. Thorn?" Fleda looked as much as said,
when she could meet his face.
"I may rather ask you what _you_ mean, Miss Fleda," he answered,
gravely.
Fleda drew breath painfully.
"I mean nothing," she said, lowering her head again; "I have
done nothing."
"Did you think I meant nothing when I agreed to do all you
wished?"
"I thought you said you would do it freely," she said, with a
tone of voice that might have touched anybody, there was such
a sinking of heart in it.
"Didn't you understand me?"
"And is it all over now?" said Fleda, after a pause.
"Not yet; but it soon may be. A weak hand may stop it now it
will soon be beyond the power of the strongest."
"And what becomes of your promise that it should no more be
heard of?" said Fleda, looking up at him with a colourless
face, but eyes that put the question forcibly, nevertheless.
"Is any promise bound to stand without its conditions?"
"I made no conditions," said Fleda, quickly.
"Forgive me! but did you not permit me to understand them?"
"No! or if I did, I could not help it."
"Did you say that you wished to help it?" said he, gently.
"I must say so now, then, Mr. Thorn," said Fleda, withdrawing
the hand he had taken; "I did not mean or wish you to think
so, but I was too ill to speak almost to know what I did. It
was not my fault."
"You do not make it mine, that I chose such a time, selfishly,
I grant, to draw from your lips the words that are more to me
than life?"
"Cannot you be generous ?" _for once_, she was very near saying.
"Where you are concerned, I do not know how."
Fleda was silent a moment, and then bowed her face in her
hands.
"May I not ask that question of you?" said he, bending down
and endeavouring to remove them; "will you not say or look
that word that will make others happy beside me?"
"I cannot, Sir."
"Not for their sakes?" he said, calmly.
"Can you ask me to do for theirs, what I would not for my
own?"
"Yes for mine," he said, with a meaning deliberateness.
Fleda was silent, with a face of white determination.
"It will be beyond _eluding_, as beyond recal, the second time.
I may seem selfish I am selfish but, dear Miss Ringgan,
you do not see all you, who make me so, can make me anything
else with a touch of your hand it is selfishness that would
be bound to your happiness, if you did but entrust it to me."
Fleda neither spoke nor looked at him, and rose up from her
chair.
"Is this _your_ generosity?" he said, pointedly, though gently.
"That is not the question now, Sir," said Fleda, who was
trembling painfully. "I cannot do evil that good may come."
"But _evil?_" said he, detaining her "what evil do I ask of
you? to _remove_ evil, I do."
Fleda clasped her hands, but answered calmly
"I cannot make any pretences, Sir; I cannot promise to give
what is not in my power."
"In whose power, then?" said he, quickly.
A feeling of indignation came to Fleda's aid, and she turned
away. But he stopped her still.
"Do you think I do not understand?" he said, with a covert
sneer, that had the keenness, and hardness, and the brightness
of steel.
"_I_ do not, Sir," said Fleda.
"Do you think I do not know whom you came here to meet?"
Fleda's glance of reproach was a most innocent one, but it did
not check him.
"Has that fellow renewed his old admiration of you?" he went
on, in the same tone.
"Do not make me desire his old protection," said Fleda, her
gentle face roused to a flush of displeasure.
"Protection!" said Charlton, coming in, "who wants protection?
here it is protection from what? my old friend Lewis? what
the deuce does this lady want of protection, Mr. Thorn?"
It was plain enough that Fleda wanted it, from the way she was
drooping upon his arm.
"You may ask the lady herself," said Thorn, in the same tone
he had before used; "I have not the honour to be her
spokesman."
"She don't need one," said Charlton; "I addressed myself to
you speak for yourself, man."
"I am not sure that it would be her pleasure I should," said
Thorn. "Shall I tell this gentleman, Miss Ringgan, who needs
protection, and from what?"
Fleda raised her head, and, putting her hand on his arm,
looked a concentration of entreaty lips were sealed.
"Will you give me," said he, gently taking the hand in his
own, "your sign-manual for Captain Rossitur's security? It is
not too late. Ask it of her, Sir."
"What does this mean?" said Charlton, looking from his cousin
to his friend.
"You shall have the pleasure of knowing, Sir, just so soon as
I find it convenient."
"I will have a few words with you on this subject, my fine
fellow," said Captain Rossitur, as the other was preparing to
leave the room.
"You had better speak to somebody else," said Thorn. "But I am
ready."
Charlton muttered an imprecation upon his absurdity, and
turned his attention to Fleda, who needed it, and yet desired
anything else. For a moment she had an excuse for not
answering his questions in her inability; and then,
opportunely, Mrs. Decatur came in to look after her; and she
was followed by her daughter. Fleda roused all her powers to
conceal and command her feelings; rallied herself; said she
had been a little weak and faint; drank water, and declared
herself able to go back into the drawing-room. To go home
would have been her utmost desire, but at the instant her
energies were all bent to the one point of putting back
thought, and keeping off suspicion. And in the first hurry and
bewilderment of distress, the dread of finding herself alone
with Charlton, till she had had time to collect her thoughts,
would of itself have been enough to prevent her accepting the
proposal.
She entered the drawing-room again on Mrs. Decatur's arm, and
had stood a few minutes talking or listening, with that same
concentration of all her faculties upon the effort to bear up
outwardly, when Charlton came up to ask if he should leave
her. Fleda made no objection, and he was out of her sight, far
enough to be beyond reach or recal, when it suddenly struck
her that she ought not to have let him go without speaking to
him without entreating him to see her in the morning before
he saw Thorn. The sickness of this new apprehension was too
much for poor Fleda's power of keeping up. She quietly drew
her arm from Mrs. Decatur's, saying that she would sit down;
and sought out a place for herself, apart from the rest, by an
engraving-stand, where for a little while, not to seem
unoccupied, she turned over print after print, that she did
not see. Even that effort failed at last; and she sat gazing
at one of Sir Thomas Lawrence's bright-faced children, and
feeling as if in herself the tides of life were setting back
upon their fountain preparatory to being still for ever. She
became sensible that some one was standing beside the
engravings, and looked up at Mr. Carleton.
"Are. you ill?" he said, very gently and tenderly.
The answer was a quick motion of Fleda's hand to her head,
speaking sudden pain, and perhaps sudden difficulty of self-
command. She did not speak.
"Will you have anything?"
A whispered "No."
"Would you like to return to Mrs. Evelyn's? I have a
carriage here."
With a look of relief that seemed to welcome him as her good
angel, Fleda instantly rose up, and took the arm he offered
her. She would have hastened from the room then, but he gently
checked her pace; and Fleda was immediately grateful for the
quiet and perfect shielding from observation that his manner
secured her. He went with her up the stairs, and to the very
door of the dressing-room. There Fleda hurried on her shoes
and mufflers in trembling fear that some one might come and
find her, gained Mr. Carleton's arm again, and was placed in
the carriage.
The drive was in perfect silence, and Fleda's agony deepened
and strengthened with every minute. She had freedom to think,
and thought did but carry a torch into chamber after chamber
of misery. There seemed nothing to be done. She could not get
hold of Charlton; and if she could? Nothing could be less
amenable than his passions to her gentle restraints. Mr. Thorn
was still less approachable or manageable, except in one way
that she did not even think of. His insinuations about Mr.
Carleton did not leave even a tinge of embarrassment upon her
mind; they were cast from her as insulting absurdities, which
she could not think of a second time without shame.
The carriage rolled on with them a long time without a word
being said. Mr. Carleton knew that she was not weeping nor
faint. But as the light of the lamps was now and then cast
within the carriage, he saw that her face looked ghastly; and
he saw too, that its expression was not of a quiet sinking
under sorrow, nor of an endeavour to bear up against it, but a
wild searching gaze into the darkness of _possibilities_. They
had near reached Mrs. Evelyn's.
"I cannot see you so," he said, gently touching the hand which
lay listlessly beside him. "You are ill!"
Again the same motion of the other hand to her face, the quick
token of great pain suddenly stirred.
"For the sake of old times, let me ask," said he "can
nothing be done?"
Those very gentle and delicate tones of sympathy and kindness
were too much to bear. The hand was snatched away to be
pressed to her face. O that those old times were back again,
and she a child that could ask his protection! no one to
give it now.
He was silent a moment. Fleda's head bowed beneath the mental
pressure.
"Has Dr. Gregory returned?"
The negative answer was followed by a half-uttered exclamation
of longing checked midway, but sufficiently expressive of
her want.
"Do you trust me?" he said, after another second of pausing.
"Perfectly!" said Fleda, amidst her tears, too much excited to
know what she was saying, and in her simplicity half
forgetting that she was not a child still; "more than any
one in the world!"
The few words he had spoken, and the manner of them, had
curiously borne her back years in a minute; she seemed to be
under his care more than for the drive home. He did not speak
again for a minute; when he did, his tone was very quiet, and
lower than before.
"Give me what a friend can have in charge to do for you, and
it shall be done."
Fleda raised her head, and looked out of the window, in a
silence of doubt. The carriage stopped at Mrs. Evelyn's.
"Not now," said Mr. Carleton, as the servant was about to open
the door "drive round the square till I speak to you."
Fleda was motionless and almost breathless with uncertainty.
If Charlton could be hindered from meeting Mr. Thorn but how
could Mr. Carleton effect it? But there was that in him or in
his manner, which invariably created confidence in his
ability, or fear of it, even in strangers; and how much more
in her who had a childish but very clear recollection of
several points in his character which confirmed the feeling.
And might not something be done, through his means, to
facilitate her uncle's escape? of whom she seemed to herself
now the betrayer. But to tell him the story! a person of his
high nice notions of character what a distance it would put
even between his friendship and her but that thought was
banished instantly, with one glance at Mr. Thorn's imputation
of ungenerousness. To sacrifice herself to _him_ would not have
been generosity to lower herself in the esteem of a
different character, she felt, called for it. There was time
even then, too, for one swift thought of the needlessness and
bitter fruits of wrong-doing. But here they were should she
make them known, and trouble Mr. Carleton, friend though he
were, with these miserable matters in which he had no concern?
She sat with a beating heart and a very troubled brow, but a
brow as easy to read as a child's. It was the trouble of
anxious questioning. Mr. Carleton watched it for a little
while undecided as ever, and more pained.
"You said you trusted me," he said quietly, taking her hand
again.
"But I don't know what you could do, Mr. Carleton," Fleda
said, with a trembling voice.
"Will you let me be the judge of that?"
"I cannot bear to trouble you with these miserable things "
"You cannot," said he, with that same quiet tone, "but by
thinking and saying so. I can have no greater pleasure than to
take pains for you."
Fleda heard these words precisely, and with the same
simplicity as a child would have heard them, and answered with
a very frank burst of tears soon, as soon as possible,
according to her custom, driven back, though even in the act
of quieting herself, they broke forth again as uncontrollably
as at first. But Mr. Carleton had not long to wait. She raised
her head again after a short struggle, with the wonted look of
patience sitting upon her brow, and wiping away her tears,
paused merely for breath and voice. He was perfectly silent.
"Mr. Carleton, I will tell you," she began; "I hardly know
whether I ought or ought not" and her hand went to her
forehead for a moment "but I cannot think to-night and I
have not a friend to apply to"
She hesitated; and then went on, with a voice that trembled
and quavered sadly.
"Mr. Thorn has a secret of my uncle's in his power which
he promised without conditions to keep faithfully; and now
insists that he will not but upon conditions"
"And cannot the conditions be met?"
"No and, oh, I may as well tell you at once!" said Fleda in
bitter sorrow; "it is a crime that he committed"
"Mr. Thorn?"
"No O no!" said Fleda, weeping bitterly, "not he"
Her agitation was excessive for a moment; then she threw it
off, and spoke more collectedly, though with exceeding
depression of manner.
"It was long ago when he was in trouble he put Mr. Thorn's
name to a note, and never was able to take it up; and nothing
was ever heard about it till lately; and last week he was
going to leave the country, and Mr. Thorn promised that the
proceedings should be entirely given up; and that was why I
came to town, to find uncle Rolf, and bring him home; and I
did, and he is gone; and now Mr. Thorn says, it is all going
on again, and that he will not escape this time; and I have
done it!"
Fleda writhed again in distress.
"Thorn promised without conditions?"
"Certainly he promised freely and now he insists upon
them; and you see uncle Rolf would have been safe out of the
country now, if it hadn't been for me"
"I think I can undo this snarl," said Mr. Carleton, calmly.
"But that is not all," said Fleda, a little quieted; "Charlton
came in this evening when we were talking, and he was
surprised to find me so, and Mr. Thorn was in a very ill
humour, and some words passed between them, and Charlton
threatened to see him again; and oh, if he does!" said poor
Fleda "that will finish our difficulties! for Charlton is
very hot, and I know how it will end how it must end"
"Where is your cousin to be found?"
"I don't know where he lodges when he is in town."
"You did not leave him at Mrs. Decatur's. Do you know where he
is this evening?"
"Yes!" said Fleda, wondering that she should have heard and
remembered; "he said he was going to meet a party of his
brother officers at Mme. Fouché's a sister-in-law of his
Colonel, I believe."
"I know her. This note was it the name of the young Mr.
Thorn, or of his father that was used?"
"Of his father."
"Has _he_ appeared at all in this business?"
"No," said Fleda, feeling for the first time that there was
something notable about it.
"What sort of person do you take him to be?"
"Very kind very pleasant, always, he has been to me, and I
should think to everybody very unlike the son."
Mr. Carleton had ordered the coachman back to Mrs. Evelyn's.
"Do you know the amount of the note? It may be desirable that
I should not appear uninformed."
"It was for four thousand dollars," Fleda said, in the low
voice of shame.
"And when given?"
"I don't know exactly but six years ago some time in the
winter of '43, it must have been."
He said no more till the carriage stopped; and then, before
handing her out of it, lifted her hand to his lips. That
carried all the promise Fleda wanted, from him. How oddly
how curiously, her hand kept the feeling of that kiss upon it
all night!