THE HAPPY MEETING
"Man's love is of man's life, a thing apart;
'Tis woman's whole existence."--Byron.
THE clock on a neighbouring church had scarcely ceased striking
three, when the servant announced that a carriage had called for
Mr. Green. In less than half an hour he was seated in a most
sumptuous barouche, drawn by two beautiful iron greys, and
rolling along over a splendid gravel road completely shaded by
large trees, which appeared to have been the accumulating growth
of many centuries. The carriage soon stopped in front of a low
villa, and this too was embedded in magnificent trees covered
with moss. Mr. Green alighted and was shown into a superb drawing
room, the walls of which were hung with fine specimens from the
hands of the great Italian painters, and one by a German artist
representing a beautiful monkish legend connected with "The Holy
Catherine," an illustrious lady of Alexandria. The furniture had
an antique and dignified appearance. High backed chairs stood
around the room; a venerable mirror stood on the mantle shelf;
rich curtains of crimson damask hung in folds at either side of
the large windows; and a rich Turkey carpet covered the floor.
In the centre stood a table covered with books, in the midst of
which was an old-fashioned vase filled with fresh flowers, whose
fragrance was exceedingly pleasant. A faint light, together with
the quietness of the hour, gave beauty beyond description to the
whole scene.
Mr. Green had scarcely seated himself upon the sofa, when the
elderly gentleman whom he had met the previous evening made his
appearance, followed by the little boy, and introduced himself as
Mr. Devenant. A moment more, and a lady--a beautiful
brunette--dressed in black, with long curls of a chestnut colour
hanging down her cheeks, entered the room. Her eyes were of a
dark hazel, and her whole appearance indicated that she was a
native of a southern clime. The door at which she entered was
opposite to where the two gentlemen were seated. They immediately
rose; and Mr. Devenant was in the act of introducing her to Mr.
Green, when he observed that the latter had sunk back upon the
sofa, and the last word that he remembered to have heard was, "It
is her." After this, all was dark and dreamy: how long he
remained in this condition it was for another to tell. When he
awoke, he found himself stretched upon the sofa, with his boots
off, his neckerchief removed, shirt collar unbuttoned, and his
head resting upon a pillow. By his side sat the old man, with the
smelling bottle in the one hand, and a glass of water in the
other, and the little boy standing at the foot of the sofa. As
soon as Mr. Green had so far recovered as to be able to speak, he
said, "Where am I, and what does this mean?" "Wait a while,"
replied the old man, "and I will tell you all." After a lapse of
some ten minutes he rose from the sofa, adjusted his apparel, and
said, "I am now ready to hear anything you have to say." "You
were born in America?" said the old man. "Yes," he replied. "And
you were acquainted with a girl named Mary?" continued the old
man. "Yes, and I loved her as I can love none other." "The lady
whom you met so mysteriously last evening is Mary,"
replied Mr. Devenant. George Green was silent, but the fountains
of mingled grief and joy stole out from beneath his eyelashes,
and glistened like pearls upon his pale and marble-like cheeks. At
this juncture the lady again entered the room. Mr. Green sprang
from the sofa, and they fell into each other's arms, to the
surprise of the old man and little George, and to the amusement
of the servants who had crept up one by one, and were hid behind
the doors, or loitering in the hall. When they had given vent to
their feelings, they resumed their seats, and each in turn
related the adventures through which they had passed. "How did
you find out my name and address?" asked Mr. Green. "After you had
left us in the grave-yard, our little George said, 'O, mamma, if
there aint a book!' and picked it up and brought it to us. Papa
opened it, and said, 'The gentleman's name is written in it, and
here is a card of the Hotel de Leon, where I suppose he is
stopping.' Papa wished to leave the book, and said it was all a
fancy of mine that I had ever seen you before, but I was
perfectly convinced that you were my own George Green. Are you
married?" "No, I am not." "Then, thank God!" exclaimed Mrs.
Devenant. "And are you single now?" inquired Mr. Green. "Yes,"
she replied. "This is indeed the Lord's doings," said Mr. Green,
at the same time bursting into a flood of tears. Mr. Devenant was
past the age when men should think upon matrimonial subjects, yet
the scene brought vividly before his eyes the days when he was a
young man, and had a wife living. After a short interview, the
old man called their attention to the dinner, which was then
waiting. We need scarcely add, that Mr. Green and Mrs. Devenant
did very little towards diminishing the dinner that day.
After dinner the lovers (for such we have to call them) gave their
experience from the time that George left the jail dressed in
Mary's clothes. Up to that time Mr. Green's was substantially as
we have related it. Mrs. Devenant's was as follows:--"The night
after you left the prison," said she, "I did not shut my eyes in
sleep. The next morning, about eight o'clock, Peter the gardener
came to the jail to see if I had been there the night before, and
was informed that I had, and that I had left a little after dark.
About an hour after, Mr. Green came himself, and I need not say
that he was much surprised on finding me there, dressed in your
clothes. This was the first tidings they had of your escape."
"What did Mr. Green say when he found that I had fled?" "Oh!"
continued Mrs. Devenant, "he said to me when no one was near, I
hope George will get off, but I fear you will have to suffer in
his stead. I told him that if it must be so I was willing to die
if you could live." At this moment George Green burst into tears,
threw his arms around her neck, and exclaimed, "I am glad I have
waited so long, with the hope of meeting you again." Mrs.
Devenant again resumed her story:--"I was kept in jail three days,
during which time I was visited by the magistrates, and two of the
judges. On the third day I was taken out, and master told me that
I was liberated, upon condition that I should be immediately sent
out of the state. There happened to be just at the time in the
neighbourhood a Negro-trader, and he purchased me, and I was taken
to New Orleans. On the steamboat we were kept in a close room,
where slaves are usually confined, so that I saw nothing of the
passengers on board, or the towns we passed. We arrived at New
Orleans, and were all put into the slave-market for sale. I was
examined by many persons, but none seemed willing to
purchase me, as all thought me too white, and said I would run
away and pass as a free white woman. On the second day, while in
the slave-market, and while planters and others were examining
slaves and making their purchases, I observed a tall young man,
with long black hair, eyeing me very closely, and then talking to
the trader. I felt sure that my time had now come, but the day
closed without my being sold. I did not regret this, for I had
heard that foreigners made the worst of masters, and I felt
confident that the man who eyed me so closely was not an
American.
"The next day was the Sabbath. The bells called the people to the
different places of worship. Methodists sang, and Baptists
immersed, and Presbyterians sprinkled, and Episcopalians read
their prayers, while the ministers of the various sects preached
that Christ died for all; yet there were some twenty-five or
thirty of us poor creatures confined in the 'Negro Pen,'
awaiting the close of the holy Sabbath, and the dawn of another
day, to be again taken into the market, there to be examined like
so many beasts of burden. I need not tell you with what anxiety
we waited for the advent of another day. On Monday we were again
brought out and placed in rows to be inspected; and, fortunately
for me, I was sold before we had been on the stand an hour. I was
purchased by a gentleman residing in the city, for a waiting-maid
for his wife, who was just on the eve of starting for Mobile, to
pay a visit to a near relation. I was then dressed to suit the
situation of a maid-servant; and upon the whole, I thought that,
in my new dress, I looked as much the lady as my mistress.
"On the passage to Mobile, who should I see among the passengers
but the tall, long-haired man that had eyed me so closely in the
slave-market a few days before. His eyes were again on
me, and he appeared anxious to speak to me, and I as reluctant to
be spoken to. The first evening after leaving New Orleans, soon
after twilight had let her curtain down, and pinned it with a
star, and while I was seated on the deck of the boat near the
ladies' cabin, looking upon the rippled waves, and the reflection
of the moon upon the sea, all at once I saw the tall young man
standing by my side. I immediately rose from my seat, and was in
the act of returning to the cabin, when he in a broken accent
said, 'Stop a moment; I wish to have a word with you. I am your
friend.' I stopped and looked him full in the face, and he said,
'I saw you some days since in the slavemarket, and I intended to
have purchased you to save you from the condition of a slave. I
called on Monday, but you had been sold and had left the market.
I inquired and learned who the purchaser was, and that you had to
go to Mobile, so I resolved to follow you. If you are willing I
will try and buy you from your present owner, and you shall be
free.' Although this was said in an honest and off-hand manner, I
could not believe the man to be sincere in what he said. 'Why
should you wish to set me free?' I asked. 'I had an only sister,'
he replied, 'who died three years ago in France, and you are so
much like her that had I not known of her death, I would most
certainly have taken you for her.' 'However much I may resemble
your sister, you are aware that I am not her, and why take so
much interest in one whom you never saw before?' 'The love,' said
he, 'which I had for my sister is transferred to you.' I had all
along suspected that the man was a knave, and this profession of
love confirmed me in my former belief, and I turned away and left
him.
"The next day, while standing in the cabin and looking
through the window, the French gentleman (for such he was) came
to the window while walking on the guards, and again commenced as
on the previous evening. He took from his pocket a bit of paper
and put it into my hand, at the same time saying, 'Take this, it
may some day be of service to you; remember it is from a friend,'
and left me instantly. I unfolded the paper, and found it to be a
100 dollars bank note, on the United States Branch Bank, at
Philadelphia. My first impulse was to give it to my mistress, but,
upon a second thought, I resolved to seek an opportunity, and to
return the hundred dollars to the stranger.
"Therefore I looked for him, but in vain; and had almost given up
the idea of seeing him again, when he passed me on the guards of
the boat and walked towards the stem of the vessel. It being now
dark, I approached him and offered the money to him. He declined,
saying at the same time, 'I gave it to you keep it.' 'I do not
want it,' I said. 'Now,' said he, 'you had better give your
consent for me to purchase you, and you shall go with me to
France.' 'But you cannot buy me now,' I replied, 'for my master is
in New Orleans, and he purchased me not to sell, but to retain in
his own family.' 'Would you rather remain with your present
mistress than be free?' 'No,' said I. 'Then fly with me tonight;
we shall be in Mobile in two hours from this, and when the
passengers are going on shore, you can take my arm, and you can
escape unobserved. The trader who brought you to New Orleans
exhibited to me a certificate of your good character, and one from
the minister of the church to which you were attached in
Virginia; and upon the faith of these assurances, and the love I
bear you, I promise before high heaven that I will marry you as
soon as it can be done.' This solemn promise, coupled
with what had already transpired, gave me confidence in the man;
and rash as the act may seem, I determined in an instant to go
with him. My mistress had been put under the charge of the
captain; and as it would be past ten o'clock when the steamer
would land, she accepted an invitation of the captain to remain
on board with several other ladies till morning. I dressed myself
in my best clothes, and put a veil over my face, and was ready on
the landing of the boat. Surrounded by a number of passengers, we
descended the stage leading to the wharf, and were soon lost in
the crowd that thronged the quay. As we went on shore we
encountered several persons announcing the names of hotels, the
starting of boats for the interior, and vessels bound for Europe.
Among these was the ship Utica, Captain Pell, bound for Havre.
'Now,' said Mr. Devenant, 'this is our chance.' The ship was to
sail at twelve o'clock that night, at high tide; and following
the men who were seeking passengers, we went immediately on
board. Devenant told the captain of the ship that I was his
sister, and for such we passed during the voyage. At the hour of
twelve the Utica set sail, and we were soon out at sea.
"The morning after we left Mobile, Devenant met me as I came from
my state-room, and embraced me for the first time. I loved him,
but it was only that affection which we have for one who has done
us a lasting favour: it was the love of gratitude rather than that
of the heart. We were five weeks on the sea, and yet the passage
did not seem long, for Devenant was so kind. On our arrival at
Havre we were married and came to Dunkirk, and I have resided
here ever since."
At the close of this narrative, the clock struck ten, when the old
man, who was accustomed to retire at an early hour,
rose to take leave, saying at the same time, "I hope you will
remain with us to-night." Mr. Green would fain have excused
himself, on the ground that they would expect him and wait at the
hotel, but a look from the lady told him to accept the
invitation. The old man was the father of Mrs. Devenant's deceased
husband, as you will no doubt long since have supposed. A
fortnight from the day on which they met in the grave-yard, Mr.
Green and Mrs. Devenant were joined in holy wedlock; so that
George and Mary, who had loved each other so ardently in their
younger days, were now husband and wife.
A celebrated writer has justly said of woman, "A woman's whole
life is a history of the affections. The heart is her world; it
is there her ambition strives for empire; it is there her avarice
seeks for hidden treasures. She sends forth her sympathies on
adventure; she embarks her whole soul in the traffic of
affection; and, if shipwrecked, her case is hopeless, for it is a
bankruptcy of the heart."
Mary had every reason to believe that she would never see George
again; and although she confesses that the love she bore him was
never transferred to her first husband, we can scarcely find
fault with her for marrying Mr. Devenant. But the adherence of
George Green to the resolution never to marry, unless to his
Mary, is, indeed, a rare instance of the fidelity of man in the
matter of love. We can but blush for our country's shame when we
recall to mind the fact, that while George and Mary Green, and
numbers of other fugitives from American slavery, can receive
protection from any of the governments of Europe, they cannot
return to their native land without becoming slaves.