At first, excitement and terror winged my feet; but even these refused,
after I had gone a few squares, to do their friendly office.
Bareheaded, but for a filmy veil, soon thoroughly drenched through;
barehanded and almost barefooted, for my thin silk slippers and
stockings formed not, after my first few steps, the slightest impediment
to wet or cold, I felt that I must perish by the wayside. The sleety
storm drove sharply in my face, rendered doubly sensitive to its rigor
by long absence from outward air. My insufficient clothing clung closely
about me, freezing in every fold, and I glided rather than walked along
the icy pavement, scarcely lifting my stiffened feet, or having power to
do so.
One stern hope--it almost seemed a forlorn one--now possessed me to the
exclusion of all else; one prayer trembled on my quivering lips--that I
might reach my destination, if only to tell my story and drop dead a
moment after.
Yet I think, in spite of this resolve--this prayer--that, had a friendly
door been opened on the way, an area even emitting light and warmth, I
should have instinctively turned aside and, at any risk, pleaded for
shelter, both from storm and foeman.
In those days that seem far back in the march of luxury, because of the
vast impetus of human momentum, stores were closed early, and the
primitive family tea-table still existed which marked the assemblage of
the household around the evening lamp and hearth.
I remember the closed, inhospitable look of the houses past which I
sped--the solid wooden shutters, then universal, which closed from the
wayfarer every evidence of internal life, and the cold sheen of the
icy-white marble steps, made visible by dim lamp-light.
I gained a street-corner not very far, as it seemed to me, from my place
of destination. Yet, until I glanced across the way, I was uncertain,
and, but for the friendly refuge this opportunity presented, I think I
must have faltered and perhaps fallen and frozen to death on the
road-side.
To my bewildered and disordered brain, Aladdin's palace seemed suddenly
to rise before me in that wilderness of sealed houses and uninhabited
streets; for, as I have said before, the very dogs had crept away that
night into secure corners, and not even a pariah chimney-sweep, with his
dingy blanket drawn close around him, nodded and dozed by a watch-box or
slept on a door-step.
I crept across the space that divided me from this cynosure of warmth
and luxury, as a poor, draggled moth might do, to bask in the
revivifying light of an astral lamp, attracted beyond my power to
resist, to pause before the resplendent window, rich in green and purple
and amber rotund vases, whose transparent contents were set forth and
revealed by fiery jets of gas, toward which I feebly stretched my
half-frozen fingers.
There was a splendid vision, also, of goldfish, in glass globes, jars of
leaden rock-work, baskets of waxen fruits and flowers, crystal bottles
containing rose and amber essences; but, above all, there was
light--there was heat.
With one greedy, insatiate gaze my eyes swept in the details of this
mimic Eden, and, in another moment, my hand turned the knob of the
ground-glass door near the window, and I found myself in paradise!
Rest, shelter, heat--these must I have or perish, and, but for the
timely refuge of this thrice-blessed apothecary's shop, I might have
left this retrospect unwritten!
I staggered to a chair, and seated myself, unbidden, by the almost
red-hot stove, and cowered above it for a time, oblivions of all else.
Then I looked timidly around me.
The master of this Eden was standing, at the moment when he first caught
my eyes, holding up a bottle, scrutinizingly, between his face and the
light, one of many of the same sort that a lad, in a long, white apron,
was engaged in washing.
The odor of the various drugs and essences over which he presided formed
an aromatic atmosphere singularly suggestive of incense, as did his
costume, that of a high-priest of the temple; but, very soon discarding
a gray-linen cape or talma, worn for the protection of his speckless
coat, and tossing a bundle of corks rather disdainfully to his
assistant, the head of the establishment came politely forward, standing
on the other side of the stove, with clasped hands, expectantly.
"You will tell me your errand here when you are quite ready," he said,
kindly. "Do rest and warm yourself first. The stove has a narcotic
tendency when one has just come out of cold like this! The thermometer
has fallen twenty degrees since noonday; but that is only half the
trouble. Hem! This sleet and wind are beyond any former experience of
mine at this season."
I heard the words of the speaker as if bound in a dreadful dream, but
they were clearly understood, and now I made an effort at utterance, but
failed, until after repeated endeavors, to enunciate one word. Yet I
noted distinctly, and even with a nice discrimination of scrutiny, the
red-haired and bright-eyed man, portly and somewhat pompous-looking,
with his plump hands folded over his vest, who stood before me, looking
pityingly down on my suffering face.
After a time I gathered up my forces sufficiently to inquire, being
quite thawed and comforted by the reviving heat of the apartment, how
far it might be to the house of Dr. Pemberton, who resided in the block
of houses known as Kendrick's Row, on Maple Street.
"It is nearly a square and a half, miss, by street measurement just now,
as, on account of changes, this is impassable," was the prompt reply.
"Scarcely half a square by the alley that runs from my back-door, after
a short turn, straight through to Maple Street; and, if it is only
question of a message, I can send Caleb, so that you may await the
coming of the doctor in comfort, in this emporium. He always uses his
gig for night-visits, and will, no doubt, be happy to carry you home in
his wolfskin."
"Thanks--there is no question of a medical visit. I have very important
business with him. I must see him in his own house. I will go without
further delay. But, perhaps"--lingering a moment--"you would be so good
as to suffer Mr. Caleb to show me the short way you spoke of? I shall
not mind going through the alley at all."
I rose prepared to depart, and glanced beseechingly at Caleb, who laid
down his bottle uncorked, and folded his arms with an approving knightly
bow, unperceived by his employer.
"We have just had a similar inquiry as to Dr. Pemberton's locality; I
mean," said the master of the emporium, without replying to my request,
"on the part of a very distinguished-looking personage--I might say,
well got up in the fur and overcoat line--and, had you come in a few
moments earlier, you might have had his escort; or perhaps you are on
his track now--probably one of his party?" hesitatingly. "No! Well, it
is a strange coincidence, to say the least--very strange--as the doctor
is so well known hereabouts. As to going out in the storm again, I have
my misgivings, miss, for you, when I look at the flimsiness of your
attire and its drenched condition. I can't see, indeed, how a
delicate-looking lady like yourself ever held her own against this
terrific wind. Eolus seems to have lost his bags! But, perhaps you had
an escort to the corner?"
"No--no--no--I came quite alone! Oh, for pity's sake, put me on my way
and let me go! My business is most urgent!" I hesitated--my heart sank.
Had Bainrothe been before me to spirit the doctor away by some feigned
message of need, of distress, to which no inclemency of weather could
close that benevolent medical ear? And did he lie in wait for me on the
way?"
"Perhaps I had, after all, better go alone," I continued; "it might be
too great an inconvenience"--and I moved toward the ground-glass door.
"Not if you will accept my services, miss," said Caleb, timidly, pushing
away the remaining corks as he spoke, and glancing furtively at his
master.
"How often must I remind you, Caleb Fink," said the owner of the
emporium, "that your sphere is circumscribed to your duties? Attend to
those phials, and drain them well before you bottle the citrate of
magnesia. The last was spoiled by your unpardonable carelessness. I have
not forgotten this!"
And again, with a deprecatory look at me, Caleb Fink subsided into a
nonentity.
"Truly has the great and wise Dr. Perkins remarked that 'the women of
America are suicidal from the cradle to the grave!' I will give you one
of his pamphlets, miss, to take away with you, and you will be convinced
that slippers are serpents in disguise in winter weather! The wooden
shoes of Germany rather! Ay, or even the _sabot_ of France! You must not
stir another step in those. Be seated, pray, and I will not detain you
long, while I procure a substitute or protection for such shams, worth
nothing in such Siberian weather.--Caleb, a word with you;" and he
whispered to his apprentice, who glided away, to return in a trice with
a pair of India-rubber overshoes, into which benign boats he proceeded
to thrust my unresisting feet, as I stood leaning on the counter; after
which a muffler was tied about my ears, and a heavy honey-comb shawl
thrown over my shoulders by the same expeditious hands.
"Could you be always as spry, Caleb! Your gloves now--I shall need my
own"--and a pair of stalwart knitted mits were forthwith drawn over my
passive hands, in which my fingers nestled undivided and warm.
"Now you look something like going for the doctor! My overcoat,
Caleb--gloves--fur-cape--cane! All hanging near the bed. There, we are
ready now for old Borealis himself, if he chooses to blow! But I
forget--God bless me, you are as pale as the ghost of Pompey, at
Philippi!--Caleb, the Perkins elixir--a glass!--Now, young lady, just
take it down at a gulp. It is the only alcoholic preparation that
Napoleon Bonaparte Burress ever suffered to pass his temperate lips.
Father Matthew does not object to it at all, I am told, on emergencies.
It may be had at this repository very low, either by the gross or
dozen."--speaking the last words mechanically, and he tendered me a
small glass of some nauseous, bittersweet, and potent beverage, that
coursed through my veins like liquid fire.
"Thank you; it _is_ very comforting," I gasped, and, setting the glass
down on the counter, I covered my face with my hands and burst into
tears.
The whole forlornness of my outcast and eleemosynary condition rushed
over me simultaneously with the flood of warmth caused by the Perkins
elixir, which nerved me the next moment for the encounter with the
elements.
I saw the kindly master of the emporium turn away, either to conceal his
own emotion or his observation of mine, and Caleb stood trembling and
crying like a girl before me.
I had shrunk, it may be remembered, from the description Sabra gave me
of McDermot, when I heard of his red hair and "chaney-blue eyes;" but to
this red-haired, hazel-eyed man I yearned instinctively, for there are
moral differences discernible in the temperament greater than any other,
and, when a red-haired man is tender-hearted, he usually usurps the
womanly prerogative, and gushes.
But Caleb's sympathy touched me even more.
"We will go now, if you please," I said, recovering myself by a strong
effort, and Napoleon B. Burress mutely tendered me his stout,
overcoated arm. "The short way you mentioned--let us go that way, if not
disagreeable to you," I pleaded.
"Oh, no; it will be an absolute saving of time to me; but, I warn you,
the alley is narrow and dark!"
"Never mind; I prefer the short cut, be it what it may. Time is every
thing to me."
We passed through the shop, threaded a narrow entry, opened a back-door,
which gave upon a strip of paved yard, leading in turn to a back-gate,
through which we emerged into a dark and dirty-looking alley.
But first the work of unlocking a padlock, which confined a chain, had
to be effected, and, while Mr. N.B. Burress was thus unfastening his
back-gate preparatory to egress, I stood gazing back, Eurydice-like, in
the place I had left, for the doors of the long entry stood open,
revealing the shop beyond and its illuminated window.
Standing thus, I saw, as through a vista and in a perfect ecstasy of
terror, the ground-glass shop-door open, and two well-known forms in
succession block its portals--those of Gregory and Bainrothe! Would
Caleb send them on our track, or would the better part of valor come to
his aid and save me from their clutches?
A thought occurred to me. "Mr. Burress," I said (I had retained his name
with its remarkable prefix), "will you not lock the gate outside? I can
wait patiently until you secure your premises--and--and bring away the
key."
"I had meant to leave it here until my return, but you are right,"
speaking indulgently. "I suppose burglars are abroad on nights like
this," and he quietly relocked the alley-gate. "You are very
considerate," he said, dryly, after we had gone a few yards in profound
silence, "but had I not better return for a lantern?"
"Oh, not for worlds! Faster--faster, Mr. Burress, and Heaven will reward
you! Never mind the stones--the snow--the mud--so that we get there
first! Yes, I see where the lane turns; I see very well in the
dark--never fear--only do not delay--I am so glad you locked the
alley-gate. They cannot come that way."
"Of whom are you afraid, poor young lady? Nobody would harm you, I am
sure; such a gentle, tender thing as you seem to be!"
"Oh, yes! Fiends are on my track! Don't let them get possession of me
again, Mr. Burress, I am pursued--yes--faster--faster!"
"But what has startled you, poor thing, since we left the Repository?
You seemed quite calm after the Perkins elixir--and those tears. Ah! I
understand!" and he coughed several times significantly. "The doctor
will set all right, I suppose, when I give you into his hands. I am glad
I came with you myself--courage, we shall soon be there!"
"Yes--yes--he is my only hope! I will explain all when we are safe with
him. It is not as you think! I have no strength now. Don't question me
further, it exhausts me to talk. Just drag me along."
And silently and valiantly did he betake himself to his task. The
noisome alley was threaded, and again we emerged into the sleety,
lamp-lit street, a few doors from the corner of that block, in the
centre of which Dr. Pemberton resided.
As we approached the friendly threshold, the exact situation of which
was familiar to my companion, he pointed it out triumphantly with his
stick.
"We shall soon be there," he reiterated, "no need for hurry now." But as
he spoke I saw a carriage turn the corner we were facing, and again I
urged on my lagging escort to his utmost speed. I ran up the sleety
steps in advance of him, and rang the bell with convulsive energy. Its
summons was answered promptly, but not a second too soon, for, as the
door opened to admit me, the carriage paused before the door, and two
men leaped from it, one of whom, the taller, thrusting Burress aside,
rushed up the steps after me with outstretched arms.
I had found refuge in the vestibule, and slammed the door in his
face--closing, as it did, with a spring-lock--before he reached the
platform. Then turning to his companion, he fled down to the street
again, with the cry that reached my ear distinctly, of "Baffled, by
God!" on his profane lips, and the twain drove off as rapidly as they
had come.
A moment later a feeble ring at the door, and a voice from without,
assuring the inmates that it was only N.B. Burress, and conjuring them
not to be alarmed, caused him to be admitted at once by the house-maid,
and shown into the same small front study into which she had conducted
me to await the doctor's appearance.
"What name shall I give? The doctor is engaged," said the house-maid,
lingering.
"If one at all, merely let me know when he is ready to see me. I am
tired and cold, and can wait patiently by this good fire."
"It may be some time, miss; would you like a cup of hot coffee, you and
this gentleman? The doctor has just had his supper, and there is a pint
or more left in the urn."
"Thanks--nothing could be more welcome," and the house-maid
disappeared.
"That is the way of this house--patients are always entertained, if in
need of refreshment," said Mr. Burress, advancing to the chimney, while
he rubbed his hands in a self-gratulatory manner, then expanded them
before the bright glare that filled every pore with warmth.
I was tremulous, and silent, and half exhausted, and he seemed to take
this in at a friendly glance, for he made none of those inquiries that I
knew were burning on his inquisitive lips; but after a few moments of
further enjoyment before the grate, and having duly turned himself as on
a spit, so as to absorb every ray of heat possible, he betook himself to
an arm-chair and a book, near the drop-light on a corner table, the soft
rustling of the turning leaves of which had a most soothing effect on my
nerves.
"I shall only stay a few minutes," he said, apologetically. "I wish,
however, to see you safe in Dr. Pemberton's hands before I leave you, as
a sort of duty, you know, you being a charge of mine, and should you
need further escort--"
"Oh, thank you, kindly; you have surely had enough trouble on my account
already."
"Not a particle--only a pleasure, miss; but the push I got from your
pursuer upset me on the pavement and made sparks fly out of my eyes,
and, before I could gather myself up, they were back again in the
carriage and off. You will have to give me the man's name, miss--you
will, indeed, on my own account, when all your fatigue and fright are
over. Such favors are generally returned by me with compound interest."
"Oh, be thankful you have not a compound fracture, Mr. Burress, and let
the fellow go. He is beneath contempt. But I shall not be satisfied
until Dr. Pemberton tells me himself that you are uninjured."
"A lump as big as a potato--that's all, miss; not worth minding, I
assure you;" and he raised his hand to his occipital region. "An
application, before retiring to bed, of 'Prang's Blood and Life
Regenerator,' will make all right again. An astonishing remedy, miss,
which no family should be without, and which may be obtained cheaply by
the gross or dozen at my emporium. You have heard of Hercules Prang?"
These were the last words I heard distinctly from the lips of Napoleon
B. Burress; nor were they answered, even by the brief "Never" which
might have proclaimed my ignorance of the very existence of that
demi-god of charlatanry, who, for the benefit of suffering mankind, had
condescended to compel his genius into the shape of a "revivifying
balsam."
I had, with the aid of the house-maid, divested myself of my wet
overshoes and wrappings before the advent of my companion, and had
already ensconced myself in a deep Spanish chair, that stood invitingly
and with extended arms in one corner of the fireplace, when he advanced
to place himself on the rug for a general roasting.
It was precisely twenty minutes past ten, Mr. Burress told me later,
when he detected, by stealing on tiptoe to my chair, and bending above
me, that I was sound asleep, and the mantel clock was on the stroke of
eleven when I awoke.
In one corner of the room sat a stern statue of Silence, in the shape of
N.B. Burress, watching my repose, and from the adjoining office came the
murmur of voices that proved that the long interview between Dr.
Pemberton and his patient was still in progress.
At this moment, one of the walnut-leaves of the small folding-door,
that formed a communication between the study and office of the good
physician, swung itself gently on its noiseless hinges, into the
position distinguished in description as "slightly ajar," and thus
remained fixed, after a fashion that spiritual mediums might have been
able to account for, on supernatural principles.
The low murmur of voices then readily resolved itself into shaped words
and sentences, and, but for my deep languor, and the delightful sense of
security that possessed me, I should have risen and closed the obliging
door, to shut out unintentional communications.
As it was, I lingered and listened, as one might do to the dash of
waves, or the rustling of branches, until suddenly the tones and meaning
of the principal interlocutor caused me to rise to my loftiest sitting
posture, and clasp the arms of the chair I occupied, while the strained
ear of attention drank in every syllable of the remainder of the
narrative, evidently drawing near its close.
The low monotony of a continued discourse pervaded the voice, the manner
of the speaker, the thread of whose story was no longer interrupted, as
before, by the comments or questions of his companion, intent upon the
vital interest of the tale.
"So I turned back at Panama," said the _raconteur_, probably, of a
series of adventures, "and abandoned my project altogether. The man
spoke with an air and tone of truth; the sketch was unmistakably hers.
The whole thing was full of _vraisemblance_, so to speak, and bore me
completely off my feet. The initials beneath the sketch of Christian
Garth were identical with her own.
"He referred me to Captain Van Dorne for confirmation of the saving of
the few remaining passengers on the raft, and her presence in the ship
Latona, together with that of the child and negress.
"I have seen Captain Van Dorne, and he admits the part he played, on the
representation of Bainrothe; and, through the evidence of a newspaper
advertisement, of the previous autumn, which had met his eye, to satisfy
the puerile scruples of this really good but ignorant man--going no
deeper than the surface in his code of morals--they were obliged to tear
out the record of their names, and take refuge temporarily in the
long-boat, before he would swear to Miriam, in her state-room, that
Bainrothe was not on board.
"As to the _habeas corpus_ which would have gone into effect to-day, and
which the wretch managed to defeat by requiring an error to be corrected
in the writ, that no guiltless man would have observed, I fear sometimes
it will prove ineffectual if we wait for the morrow. My plan was to go
at midnight with a party of my friends to the house of this miscreant,
and take the law in my own hands; but, in this I could not stir, for the
reasons I have given you. Besides that, it was risking too much--her
safety and reputation.
"She cannot be secretly removed, of course, for we have a detective in
the house able and strong, besides the old well-paid negress, both of
whom--"
"Have played you false," I interrupted, rising impetuously, and throwing
back the loose leaf of the door, "and I am here to tell you this. O
friends, have you forgotten me?"
And, rushing forward, I threw an arm around each of those dear necks,
weeping alternately on the shoulder of one and the other of the two men
I loved best in the world, and who, for some moments, sat silent and
amazed!
Then Wentworth rose mutely, and clasped me to his breast, and silence
prevailed between us. It comprehended all.
I think, when we meet again in heaven, after that severance which is
inevitable to those who wear a mortal shape, we may feel as we did then,
but never before! The rapture--the relief--the spiritual
ecstasy--surmounting, as on wings of fire, pain, fatigue, suspense,
anguish of mind and body--were in themselves lessons of immortality
beyond any that book or sage has issued from midnight vigil or earthly
tabernacle.
Not until a new order of things is established, and we have done with
tribulation, tears, and death, shall we again know such sensations; nor
is it indeed quite certain that human heart and brain could twice
sustain them here below!