THE DREAM.
Three weeks passed away in a most agreeable manner, and Richard
frequently expressed his gratitude to Armstrong for the pleasure he had
procured him by this visit.
The more he saw of Count Alteroni's daughter, the more he was compelled
to admire her personal and mental qualifications. But he felt somewhat
annoyed when he discovered that Captain Smilax Dapper was paying his
addresses to her: for he was interested in so charming a young lady, and
would have regretted to see her throw herself away on such a coxcomb. He
did not however find that Isabella gave the captain any encouragement:
on the contrary he had frequently seen an erratic smile of contempt upon
her lips when the military aspirant to her hand uttered an absurdity or
indulged in an air of affectation.
By the constant and unvaried respect, and the absence of all familiarity
on the part of Dapper towards the lovely Italian, Markham also argued
that he had not as yet declared his sentiments, because had he been a
favoured suitor, the truth would have betrayed itself in some trifling
manner or another. Moreover, as Isabella conducted herself in only just
the same friendly way towards Captain Dapper as she manifested towards
her father's other guests, Richard saw no reason to believe that this
passion was reciprocal.
Markham was thrown much in the signora's society during his visit at her
father's house. He soon perceived that she preferred a conversation upon
edifying and intellectual subjects to the frivolous chit-chat of Sir
Cherry Bounce and Captain Dapper; and he frequently found himself
carrying on a lengthened discourse upon music, poetry, painting and
Italian literature, while the others were amusing themselves in the
billiard or smoking-rooms. But Isabel was no blue-stocking; she was full
of vivacity and life, and her conversation was sprightly and agreeable,
even when turning upon those serious subjects.
In a few days after Richard's arrival, it was always he who turned the
leaves of Isabella's music-book, "because Captain Dapper didn't know
when;" she always took his arm when they walked round the shrubbery and
garden after breakfast, "because Captain Dapper was constantly leaving
her to play Sir Cherry some trick;" and somehow or another at
meal-times, Richard and Isabella were invariably seated next to each
other.
Such was the state of things at the expiration of three weeks, to which
extent, although contrary to the original proposal of Armstrong, the
visit had already extended; and Captain Smilax Dapper more than once
fancied that he saw a rival in Richard Markham. At length he determined
to communicate his suspicions to his friend Sir Cherry Bounce--a
resolution which he carried into effect in the following manner.
"Cherry, my dear fellow," said he, one morning, taking the effeminate
young baronet with him into the garden, up the gravel walks of which he
walked in a very excited state; "Cherry, my dear fellow, I have
something upon my mind, strike me! and I wish to unburden myself to
you."
"Do you, Thmilackth? What can pothibly be the matter?" demanded the
youth, turning very pale. "Ith it veway terwible? becauth if it ith, I
had better call the count, and he will bwing hith blunderbuth."
"Strike me an idiot, Cherry, if you ain't a fool with your counts and
blunderbusses. Now listen to me! I love Isabella, and have been doing
the agreeable to her----"
"On my thoul I never could thee it!"
"I dare say not! strike me, if I didn't keep it so precious snug and
quiet! However I love the girl; and curse me if I don't have her
too--that's more! She shall be Mrs. Smilax Dapper, as sure as she's
born, and I hope the mother of a whole regiment of little Smilaxes. And
then Cherry, you shall stay a month or six weeks with us at a time, and
fondle the little ones on your knees, you shall, and every thing will go
on comfortable and smooth."
"Oh! veway thmooth!" cried Sir Cherry Bounce, making a slight grimace at
the pleasing prospect of fondling the Little Dappers upon his knees.
"And I suppose I am not presumptuous in aspiring to the hand of
Isabella? My father is a peer--and my uncle is a peer--and I have three
thousand a-year of my own, beside expectations. Strike me, if I'm a man
to be sneezed at!"
"Who thinkth of thneething at you?"
"I don't know exactly. And then I am not such a very bad looking fellow
either. You are not ugly, Cherry, you are not--that is, not particularly
ugly, although you have got pink eyes, and white lashes, and a pug
nose;--but I'm more athletic, strike me!"
"I'm thure I don't dithpute what you thay."
"Well then--acknowledging all this," proceeded the captain, "how should
I treat a fellow who endeavours to cut me out?"
"Thallenge him to fight with thword and pithtol," answered Sir Cherry.
"But who ith he?"
"That upstart fellow, Markham, who was brought here by that odious,
republican, seditious, disloyal scoundrel Armstrong, and who talks all
day about poetry and music, and God knows what. However, I can't say I
admire that plan of yours," continued the hussar; "swords and pistols,
you know are so very dangerous; and--and--"
"And what elth?"
"Why, you're a fool, Cherry. I thought you would have hit upon some plan
to enable me to secure the prize."
"Well then--thuppothing we carwy the girl off, to Wochethter for
inthanth."
"Deuce take Rochester! my regiment is quartered at Chatham."
"Well--to Canterbury then?"
"Yes--that will do--strike me blind if it won't!" ejaculated the
captain. "But if I could only get rid of this Markham somehow or
another, I should prefer it. The fellow----"
Captain Smilax Dapper stopped short: for at that moment, as he and his
companion were turning the angle of a summer-house, they ran against
Richard Markham.
"It wath'nt me--it wath'nt me who thpoke!" ejaculated Sir Cherry Bounce;
and having uttered these words, he very fairly took to his heels,
leaving his friend the captain to settle matters as best he might.
"Who was taking a most unwarrantable liberty with my name?" demanded
Richard, walking straight up to Captain Smilax Dapper.
"I certainly made an observation," answered the captain, turning mighty
pale, "and I do not hesitate to say, sir----"
"What, sir?"
"Why, sir--that I feel, sir--that strike me, sir!"
"Yes, sir--I _shall_ strike you," very coolly answered Markham; "and
that will teach you not to speak lightly of one, who is a comparative
stranger to you, on another occasion."
As he uttered these words, he seized the captain by the collar, and gave
him a couple of boxes on the ears. Dapper endeavoured to pluck up a
spirit and resist; but the ceremony was performed before he could
release himself from his assailant's clutches and he then returned to
the house, muttering threats of vengeance.
That same afternoon Markham took leave of his new friends.
On his return home, he found his dwelling more lonely and cheerless than
ever. He felt that he was isolated in the world; and his heart seemed to
be pierced with a red-hot iron when the remembrance of all his wrongs
returned to his imagination.
Oh! if we would but study the alphabet of fate, and remember that each
leaf which falls, each flower that dies, is but the emblem of man's
kindred doom, how much of the coldness, the selfishness, the viciousness
of life would be swept away, and earth would be but a proof-sheet of
heaven's fairer volume--with errors and imperfections, it is true, but
still susceptible of correction and amendment, ere its pages be unfolded
before the High Chancery of heaven!
Spring now asserted its tranquil reign once more; and May strewed the
earth with flowers, and covered the trees with foliage.
One evening Richard sate in his library reading until a very late hour.
Night came, and found him at his studies; and the morning dawned ere he
thought of retiring to slumber.
He hastened to his bed-room, with the intention of seeking his couch;
but he felt no inclination to sleep. He walked up to the window, drew
aside the curtain, and gazed forth into the open air. The partial
obscurity seemed to hang like a dusky veil against the windows: but by
degrees the darkness yielded to the grey light of the dawn.
He glanced in the direction of the hill upon the summit of which stood
the two trees; and he thought of his brother. He wondered, for the
thousandth time, whether the appointment would be eventually kept, and
why Eugene came not to revisit the home of his birth.
He was in the midst of cogitations like these, when his eyes were
suddenly struck by an object which seemed to be moving between the trees
upon the top of the hill. A superstitious fear seized upon Richard's
mind. In the first moment of his surprise he imagined that the
apparition of his brother had been led back to the trysting-place by
those leafy banners that proclaimed the covenant of the heart. But he
speedily divested himself of that momentary alarm, and smiled at his
folly in believing it to be extraordinary that any one should visit the
hill at that early hour.
The object was still there--it was a human being--and, as the morning
gradually grew brighter, he was enabled to distinguish that it was a
man.
But that was the hour at which labourers went to their daily
toils:--still, why should one of those peasants linger upon the top of
the hill, to reach which he must have gone out of his way?
Markham felt an indescribable curiosity to repair to the hill;--but he
was ashamed to yield to the superstitious impulse under the influence of
which he still more or less laboured;--and the sudden disappearance of
the object of his anxiety from the hill confirmed him in his resolution
to remain in his chamber. He accordingly closed the blind, and retired
to his couch, where he shortly sank into a deep slumber.
Markham was now plunged into the aërial world of dreams. First he saw
himself walking by the side of Isabella in a cool and shady grove, where
the birds were singing cheerily in the trees; and it seemed to him that
there reigned a certain understanding between himself and his fair
companion which allowed him to indulge in the most delightful and tender
hopes. He pressed her hand--she returned the token of affection and
love. Suddenly this scene was rudely interrupted. From a deep recess in
the grove appeared a wretch, covered with rags, dirty and revolting in
appearance, with matted hair, parched and cracked lips, wild and
ferocious eyes, and a demoniac expression of countenance. Isabella
screamed: the wretch advanced, grasped Richard's hand, gave utterance to
a horrible laugh, and claimed his friendship--the friendship of Newgate!
It seemed to Richard that he made a desperate effort to withdraw his
hand from that rude grasp;--and the attempt instantly awoke him.
He opened his eyes;--but the horror experienced in his dream was now
prolonged, for a human countenance was bending over him!
It was not, however, the distorted, hideous, and fearful one which he
had seen in his vision,--but a countenance handsome, though very pale,
and whose features were instantly familiar to him.
"Eugene, my brother--Eugene, dearest Eugene!" ejaculated Richard; and he
stretched out his arms to embrace him whom he thus adjured.
But scarcely had his eyes opened upon that countenance, when it was
instantly withdrawn; and Richard remained for a few moments in his bed,
deprived of all power of motion, and endeavouring to assure himself
whether he was awake or in a vision.
A sudden impulse roused him from his lethargy;--he sprang from his
couch, rushed towards the door, and called aloud for his brother.
The door was closed when he reached it; and no trace seemed to denote
that any visitor had been in that chamber.
He threw on a dressing-gown, hurried down stairs, and found all the
doors fast closed and locked as usual at that hour. He opened the
front-door, and looked forth,--but no one was to be seen. Bewildered and
alarmed, he returned to his bed-chamber, and once more sought his couch.
He again fell asleep, in the midst of numerous and conflicting
conjectures relative to the incident which had just occurred; and when
he awoke two hours afterwards, he was fain to persuade himself that it
was all a dream.
He dressed himself, and walked towards the hill. On his arrival at the
top, he instinctively cast his eyes upon the name and date carved in the
bark of his brother's tree. But how great was his surprise--how
ineffable his joy, when he beheld fresh traces of the same hand
imprinted on that tree. Beneath the former memento--and still fresh and
green, as if they had only been engraved a few hours--were the words--
EUGENE.
_May 17th, 1838._
"My God!" exclaimed Richard, "it was then no dream!"
He threw himself upon the seat between the two trees and wept
abundantly.