"I simply tell thee peril is at hand,
And would preserve thee!"
BYRON.
Two days later the cousins sat in their front room, Florence intently
reading, Mary watching beside the couch of pain, bathing her aunt's
brow, and chafing the hands. Aunt Lizzy was suffering from violent
nervous headache: all day she had tossed restlessly about, and now,
soothed by the gentle touches on her brow, had fallen asleep. Her
fingers had tightly clasped Mary's small, thin hands, but gradually
relaxing their hold, sunk beside her. Softly smoothing back the
disordered hair, the young nurse failed to perceive the entrance of
Dr. Bryant, and only looked up when a beautiful bouquet of flowers
was laid upon her lap. The feverish glow deepened on her cheek as she
warmly thanked him.
"I am glad you like them, Miss Irving."
"How could I do otherwise?"
"My bunch is equally beautiful," cried Florence, holding it up for
inspection. "Pray, Doctor, how came you so thoroughly acquainted with
our different tastes? You have selected admirably."
"I am gratified at succeeding so happily in my arrangement of them.
But I hope your aunt is not seriously indisposed?"
"No, merely a bad nervous attack, to which she is subject."
"Miss Mary, as you are free from apprehension on her account, can you
take a short ride this evening? I have a gentle horse at the gate, and
if you will trust yourself with me, I think a good canter will benefit
you exceedingly: will you go?"
Mary sought Florence's eye; it brightened with pleasure.
"Certainly, Mary; why do you hesitate? I am very glad Dr. Bryant
suggested it; I will take good care of aunt, and the ride will
doubtless benefit you."
"You are very kind, Doctor; I will only detain you while I change my
dress." And she withdrew.
"Don't you think she looks much better to-day?" asked Florence,
anxiously, as her cousin left the room.
"She has certainly more color, but I am afraid it is only a feverish
glow. Let me entreat you, Miss Hamilton, to watch over her with the
greatest care: the slightest exposure might cause a return of that
terrible cough, and in her feeble state I fear for the consequences."
"She has grown very, very thin, within the last month; but then, when
warm weather comes again, I doubt not she will grow rosy and strong
once more." They both sighed heavily, as though against conviction
each had striven to cheer the other.
Mary re-entered the room equipped for her ride, and now, for the first
time, Florence thought her cousin beautiful. Beneath her straw hat
floated back from her fair face a luxuriant mass of brown curls; a
bright blush mantled the delicate cheek, and the gentle blue eyes
seemed unusually large and brilliant. A smile dimpled round her lip as
she met the fond glance bent upon her. Florence tenderly clasped her
hand a moment, then kissed her warmly, and bade Dr. Bryant take all
care of her. He promised to do so, and soon they had passed beyond her
sight. They rode slowly, lest Mary should be too much fatigued; and
often the eyes of her companion rested on the frail but lovely being
by his side.
"Which way shall we ride?"
"If you have no preference, suppose we go to San Pedro?"
"You could not have selected more in accordance with my own wishes."
A long silence ensued, broken only by the clatter of their horses'
hoofs along the gravel path.
"The prospect of leaving forever these beautiful environs, which I
have so often admired, fills me with inexpressible regret. My heart
clings to San Antonio, though my residence here has been very brief;"
said Dr. Bryant sadly.
"Do you go to return no more?" asked Mary, with averted head.
"Yes, most probably I shall never see this place again; for I wish to
visit Europe so soon as my business affairs are arranged at home, and
on my return, shall devote myself to my profession." He fixed his eyes
earnestly on her face as he spoke.
Slowly the head drooped, till the hat concealed her features.
"We shall miss you very much when you are gone. Florry and I feel
deeply grateful for your continued kindness, and never--no, never
shall we forget your care of my uncle."
"Take care--take care; you are dropping your reins."
He gathered them up and replaced them in her hand.
"Thank you; I had quite forgotten them."
"Do you not think it would be best for you and Florence to return to
your friends in Louisiana? This is an unpleasant home for you."
"It was my uncle's wish that we should remain here, and I know Florry
would not consent to leave, unless some danger threatened. We have
learned to love San Antonio more dearly than any other place, except
our old home;" replied Mary, earnestly.
"By the bye, I had almost forgotten to mention that I have had a
letter from an old friend, who inquired very particularly after
you--Dudley Stewart; you knew him, I think, in New Orleans. His letter
is dated six months ago; but I am happy to receive it at all during
these unsettled times."
"We heard of his marriage," said Mary, in a low tone, as the image of
Florence rose before her.
"His marriage! Oh, no! you must be mistaken. He would most certainly
have mentioned it, for we are old and intimate friends."
"It was reported that he had married his cousin."
"Ah! is that all? I am not much surprised that you should have heard
that, for before I left home it was quite current. His widowed mother
was very anxious to make the match; but Stewart assured me he would
never comply with her wishes, as he had fully resolved never to wed a
woman he did not tenderly love; and though quite pretty, Ellen is not
sufficiently intellectual to attract such a man."
"Are you quite sure of this, Dr. Bryant?" said Mary, in a quick, eager
tone.
"Certainly; I had it from his own lips."
"Oh! I"--She stopped short, and her cheek crimsoned, as she met the
piercing glance of his dark eye bent upon her face. Her small hands
trembled so that the reins quivered, and she closed her eyes for a
moment, while the glow fled from her cheeks, leaving them pale as
marble.
He caught her hand, and steadied her in her saddle.
"Forgive my inattention, Miss Irving, you are not strong enough to
extend your ride. Your face is very pale, and you look fatigued."
"Yes, let us go home--home." Her voice was low and faltering, and she
with difficulty restrained the tears which sprung to her eyes.
They turned their horses' heads, and neither attempted to remove the
restraint which both experienced. They entered the town, and then
seeing her hand glide quickly to her side, he gently said:
"I am afraid we are riding too fast for you."
Her lips writhed for a moment with acute pain; but with a faint smile,
which touched him with its sadness, she replied:
"I am better now--the pain has almost left me, I am very sorry to
trouble you so much, Dr. Bryant,"
"Trouble!" he murmured, as if communing with his own heart. "I see
you do not know me, nor ever will; for none have truly read my soul or
sympathized." A look of bitterness passed over his face, and a sterner
expression rested there than Mary had ever marked before. She knew not
what to reply, for she could not comprehend the change, and even as
she pondered, he pointed to the western sky, and, much in his usual
tone, asked:
"Don't you think the sunsets here exceed any you ever beheld
elsewhere?"
"In brilliancy they certainly do. Yet I love still better the soft
tints which often linger till the stars come out. I think they blend
and harmonize more beautifully with the deep blue of the zenith than
any I have seen before, and I have watched sunsets from my childhood."
"You are right; I have noticed in more northern latitudes a very
perceptible difference in the appearance of the firmament. The moon,
for instance, on cold, clear nights, presents a silvery, glittering
disk, but the soft mellow light of a southern clime is wanting."
While he spoke, the figure of a woman emerged from a house near by,
and, softly approaching Mary's horse, laid her finger on her lips,
and, pressing a piece of paper into her hand, returned as silently
as she came. Dr. Bryant turned his head toward Mary as he finished
speaking, and, catching a glimpse of the retreating form, looked
inquiringly at her.
"I believe it was Inez, though the face was entirely concealed. She
did not speak, but gave me this paper," and Mary unrolled the note:
"MARINITA,
"Santa Anna has crossed the Rio Grande with eight thousand
men. I warn you of your danger. You can get horses now, for
the Padre cannot control your people. There are brave men in
the Alamo, tell them of their danger. Again I say, fly quickly
from San Antonio.
"INEZ."
With a groan, Mary handed him the paper. In silence he perused and
returned it to her.
"Tell me, was it Inez who warned you before?"
"Yes, she told me we incurred unknown dangers by remaining here." He
mused for several moments.
"Ah! I can understand it all now. Several nights ago, returning
from the Alamo, I met her on the bridge alone; she seemed excited, I
thought, and impatient at meeting me, for I questioned her rambling so
late."
"Inez is a warm friend, and what she advises I feel almost bound
to do, for she is not timid, and only real danger rouses her
apprehension."
"Eight thousand men! and not two hundred to man the Alamo. Inez is
right; this is not a proper place for you. We will go, as we once
decided, to Washington; and when you are in safety, I will return and
lend my efforts to the feeble garrison."
They reached the gate, and he gently lifted the frail form from the
saddle; and, drawing her arm through his, led her to the house. As
they entered, he bent his head and said, in, a low tone:
"Tell me candidly, are you able to undergo the fatigue incident to
this journey? I fear you are not."
"Yes, I shall perhaps grow stronger; at any rate, if you do not change
your mind, let no fears for me influence you."
When leaving, he said it was probable that all would be in readiness
for their departure within a couple of days, as he wished to see them
secure, and then return.
"Mrs. Carlton will accompany us when she learns this terrible news?"
said Mary, inquiringly.
"Oh yes; I cannot consent for her to remain, and besides Mr. Carlton
has been anxious for some time regarding his family."
Florence, having read the note, fully approved their promptly
removing, and all necessary preparations were made for immediate
departure.
Mary longed inexpressibly to impart to her cousin what she had learned
respecting Mr. Stewart, but shrank instinctively from reviving hopes
which might never be realized--hopes which Florence had long since
crushed and cast out of her heart as dead. With an earnest prayer
that her cousin might yet be blessed and happy, Mary determined not
to broach the subject at least for a time. Dr, Bryant without delay
apprised the garrison of the rumor which had reached him, and a
courier was immediately despatched to headquarters for reinforcements
sufficient to defend this important fortress--this key of the
state--from the powerful force now advancing to assault it. Horses
were supplied with alacrity, for he had made many and warm friends,
and two large tents, together with a baggage-wagon, were readily
granted to one who so nobly contributed to the relief of the sick,
wounded, and dying.
At length every arrangement was completed, and the next morning
appointed for their departure. Aunt Lizzy had objected at first,
but speedily became reconciled when Dr. Bryant painted, in a graphic
manner, the horrors which were about to ensue.
As the shades of evening came gently on, the girls set out for Mrs.
Carlton's, as from her dwelling they commenced their journey. Aunt
Lizzy remained to give some final direction, and then came a sorrowful
parting with their servants, one of whom took Mary in her arms and
bade God bless her, while the tears rolled over her wrinkled face.
Mary could not repress her own, and she sobbed convulsively. Dr.
Bryant, who had come over for them, laid his hand on the shoulder of
the true-hearted negress, and said:
"Why, Aunt Fanny, you must not excite Miss Irving; she is not strong,
you know, and has a long ride before her to-morrow."
"Oh yes, Doctor, it will do well enough for you to tell me not to cry,
but I can't help it, for I love her as if she was my own child, and if
I thought to see her again I should not grieve so much; but I saw her
mother before her, and I know how she grew pale and thin, and then
took to the sofa, and never rose up till she was carried to her grave;
and can't I see that blessed child going just like her? Oh I it's no
use talking to me; she ain't long for this world, and it's hard--yes,
it's hard for her to die away from old Fanny!" and she covered her
face with her apron, and sobbed aloud.
Mary wiped her own tears quickly away, and taking the hand of her
old friend, led her back to the kitchen. For several moments her
companions waited anxiously for her; and soon she advanced slowly to
meet them. Frank drew her arm through his, and sadly they walked away.
Passing the gate, Mary paused and looked out on the river, where she
had so often sat at this hour; and sad though sweet associations,
infinite in number, crowded upon her mind.
How calm and beautiful all nature seemed, as though arrayed in its
loveliest garb to chain her affection, that, in after years, the
memory of that western home might steal gently up amidst surrounding
gloom, to charm away the anguish of some bitter hour, and soothe the
saddened spirit. Her heart was inexpressibly touched, and she averted
her head to conceal the expression of keen sorrow which rested on her
face.
"This view of the San Antonio has often struck me as particularly
fine," said Dr. Bryant, turning to Florence, whose pale cheek alone
attested regret at leaving her home.
"Yes, I know none superior; and our favorite ramble was along this
bank, and down the river side."
"Its windings are multitudinous, yet how graceful every curve: and
then, the deep blue of its waters adds not a little to the beauty of
the whole. But we have not leisure to admire it now, for your cousin
must not be chilled, and the wind blows freshly from the north."
He stepped on as he spoke, but feeling the small hands clasped over
his arm, looked earnestly down into the pale face at his side. Mary
was bending a last, long look on house and tree and river; as they
walked on, the different objects passed beyond her view, and then a
faint moan escaped her lips. She met the anxious gaze of her friend,
and replied to its silent questioning:
"Forgive what doubtless seems a great weakness. You and Florry can
not sympathize with me now. You will both return ere long, but my eyes
have rested for the last time on each loved object. I have dreaded
this parting from the home that has grown so dear to me--but the pang
is over."
Her deep blue eyes rested on his face, and touchingly sad was the
expression, as she swept back the clustering hair from her brow.
The lips quivered, as of late they often did when she was excited.
Florence did not hear her words, for she had crossed the street; but
Frank's heart throbbed violently as he listened to her low, sad tone.
Laying his hand on hers, that were tightly clasped, he pressed them
gently, and said, in a slightly faltering voice:
"For Florence's sake--for mine--for your own, do not give way to such
gloomy forebodings! Your depressed spirits will act injuriously on
your health. Let me beg you to place no confidence in Aunt Fanny's
words at parting; she was herself scarce conscious of their import."
"I have no gloomy forebodings, no apprehension of the future, and
generally no depressed spirits; but I know full well that my life is
gradually wasting away, slowly, gently, and almost without pain, I
am sinking to an early tomb. Yet I would not have it otherwise if I
could. Death has long lost all terrors for me; I have no fear--all is
peace and quiet. I am paining you. Forgive me, Dr. Bryant; but knowing
that you and Florry were anxious about me, I thought it best to tell
you that I am fully aware of my danger, if so I can term what I would
not avert."
A shudder crept over the strong man as he looked down at the calm,
colorless face of her who spoke so quietly of death, and of quitting
forever the scenes she loved so truly.
"I cannot--will not believe you are so ill. You will grow stronger
when we leave this place, and a year hence, when quite well again, you
will beg pardon for the pain you have given me."
A faint smile played round the thin lips, and in silence they
proceeded to Mrs. Carlton's.