The remainder of that night was passed by the unhappy De Haldimar in a
state of indescribable wretchedness. After inspecting the relief, he
had thrown himself on his rude guard-bed; and, drawing his cloak over
his eyes, given full rein to the wanderings of his excited imagination.
It was in vain the faithful old Morrison, who never suffered his master
to mount a guard without finding some one with whom to exchange his
tour of duty, when he happened not to be in orders himself, repeatedly
essayed, as he sat stirring the embers of the fire, to enter into
conversation with him. The soul of the young officer was sick, past the
endurance even of that kind voice; and, more than once, he impetuously
bade him be silent, if he wished to continue where he was; or, if not,
to join his comrades in the next guard-room. A sigh was the only
respectful but pained answer to these sharp remonstrances; and De
Haldimar, all absorbed even as he was in his own grief, felt it deeply;
for he knew the old man loved him, and he could not bear the idea of
appearing to repay with slight the well-intentioned efforts of one whom
he had always looked upon more as a dependant on his family than as the
mere rude soldier. Still he could not summon courage to disclose the
true nature of his grief, which the other merely ascribed to general
causes and vague apprehensions of a yet unaccomplished evil. Morrison
had ever loved his sister with an affection in no way inferior to that
which he bore towards himself. He had also nursed her in childhood; and
his memory was ever faithful to trace, as his tongue was to dwell on,
those gentle and amiable qualities, which, strongly marked at an
earlier period of her existence, had only undergone change, inasmuch as
they had become matured and more forcibly developed in womanhood.
Often, latterly, had the grey-haired veteran been in the habit of
alluding to her; for he saw the subject was one that imparted a
mournful satisfaction to the youth; and, with a tact that years, more
than deep reading of the human heart, had given him, he ever made a
point of adverting to their re-union as an event admitting not of doubt.
Hitherto the affectionate De Haldimar had loved to listen to these
sounds of comfort; for, although they carried no conviction to his
mind, impressed as he was with the terrible curse of Ellen Halloway,
and the consequent belief that his family were devoted to some fearful
doom, still they came soothingly and unctuously to his sick soul; and,
all deceptive even as he felt them to be, he found they created a hope
which, while certain to be dispelled by calm after-reflection, carried
a momentary solace to his afflicted spirit. But, now that he had every
evidence his adored sister was no more, and that the illusion of hope
was past for ever, to have heard her name even mentioned by one who,
ignorant of the fearful truth the events of that night had elucidated,
was still ready to renew a strain every chord of which had lost its
power of harmony, was repugnant beyond bearing to his heart. At one
moment he resolved briefly to acquaint the old man with the dreadful
fact, but unwillingness to give pain prevented him; and, moreover, he
felt the grief the communication would draw from the faithful servitor
of his family must be of so unchecked a nature as to render his own
sufferings even more poignant than they were. Neither had he
(independently of all other considerations) resolution enough to forego
the existence of hope in another, even although it had passed entirely
away from himself. It was for these reasons he had so harshly and (for
him) unkindly checked, the attempt of the old man at a conversation
which he, at every moment, felt would be made to turn on the ill-fated
Clara.
Miserable as he felt his position to be, it was not without
satisfaction he again heard the voice of his sergeant summoning him to
the inspection of another relief. This duty performed, and anxious to
avoid the paining presence of his servant, he determined, instead of
returning to his guard-room, to consume the hour that remained before
day in pacing the ramparts. Leaving word with his subordinate, that, in
the event of his being required, he might be found without difficulty,
he ascended to that quarter of the works where the Indian had been
first seen who had so mysteriously conveyed the sad token he still
retained in his breast. It was on the same side with that particular
point whence we have already stated a full view of the bridge with its
surrounding scenery, together with the waters of the Detroit, where
they were intersected by Hog Island, were distinctly commanded. At
either of those points was stationed a sentinel, whose duty it was to
extend his beat between the boxes used now rather as lines of
demarcation than as places of temporary shelter, until each gained that
of his next comrade, when they again returned to their own, crossing
each other about half way: a system of precaution pursued by the whole
of the sentinels in the circuit of the rampart.
The ostensible motive of the officer in ascending the works, was to
visit his several posts; but no sooner had he found himself between the
points alluded to, which happened to be the first in his course, than
he seemed to be riveted there by a species of fascination. Not that
there was any external influence to produce this effect, for the utmost
stillness reigned both within and around the fort; and, but for the
howling of some Indian wolf-dog in the distance, or the low and
monotonous beat of their drums in the death-dance, there was nought
that gave evidence of the existence of the dreadful enemy by whom they
were beset. But the whole being of the acutely suffering De Haldimar
was absorbed in recollections connected with the spot on which he
stood. At one extremity was the point whence he had witnessed the
dreadful tragedy of Halloway's death; at the other, that on which had
been deposited the but too unerring record of the partial realisation
of the horrors threatened at the termination of that tragedy; and
whenever he attempted to pass each of these boundaries, he felt as if
his limbs repugned the effort.
In the sentinels, his appearance among them excited but little
surprise; for it was no uncommon thing for the officers of the guard to
spend the greatest part of the night in visiting, in turn, the several
more exposed points of the ramparts; and that it was now confined to
one particular part, seemed not even to attract their notice. It was,
therefore, almost wholly unremarked by his men, that the heart-stricken
De Haldimar paced his quick and uncertain walk with an imagination
filled with the most fearful forebodings, and with a heart throbbing
with the most painful excitement. Hitherto, since the discovery of the
contents of the packet, his mind had been so exclusively absorbed in
stupifying grief for his sister, that his perception seemed utterly
incapable of outstepping the limited sphere drawn around it; but now,
other remembrances, connected with the localities, forced themselves
upon his attention; and although, in all these, there was nothing that
was not equally calculated to carry dismay and sorrow to his heart,
still, in dividing his thoughts with the one supreme agony that bowed
him down, they were rather welcomed than discarded. His mind was as a
wheel, embracing grief within grief, multiplied to infinitude; and the
wider and more diffusive the circle, the less powerful was the
concentration of sickening heart and brain on that which was the more
immediate axis of the whole.
Reminded, for the first time, as he pursued his measured but aimless
walk, by the fatal portrait which he more than once pressed with
feverish energy to his lips, of the singular discovery he had made that
night in the apartments of his father, he was naturally led, by a chain
of consecutive thought, into a review of the whole of the extraordinary
scene. The fact of the existence of a second likeness of his mother was
one that did not now fail to reawaken all the unqualified surprise he
had experienced at the first discovery. So far from having ever heard
his father make the slightest allusion to this memorial of his departed
mother, he perfectly recollected his repeatedly recommending to Clara
the safe custody of a treasure, which, if lost, could never be
replaced. What could be the motive for this mystery?--and why had he
sought to impress him with the belief it was the identical portrait
worn by his sister which had so unintentionally been exposed to his
view? Why, too, had he evinced so much anxiety to remove from his mind
all unfavourable impressions in regard to his mother? Why have been so
energetic in his caution not to suffer a taint of impurity to attach to
her memory? Why should he have supposed the possibility of such
impression, unless there had been sufficient cause for it? In what,
moreover, originated his triumphant expression of feature, when, on
that occasion, he reminded him that HIS name was not Reginald? Who,
then, was this Reginald? Then came the recollection of what had been
repeated to him of the parting scene between Halloway and his wife. In
addressing her ill-fated husband, she had named him Reginald. Could it
be possible this was the same being alluded to by his father? But no;
his youth forbade the supposition, being but two years older than his
brother Frederick; yet might he not, in some way or other, be connected
with the Reginald of the letter? Why, too, had his father shown such
unrelenting severity in the case of this unfortunate victim?--a
severity which had induced more than one remark from his officers, that
it looked as if he entertained some personal feeling of enmity towards
a man who had done so much for his family, and stood so high in the
esteem of all who knew him.
Then came another thought. At the moment of his execution, Halloway had
deposited a packet in the hands of Captain Blessington;--could these
letters--could that portrait be the same? Certain it was, by whatever
means obtained, his father could not have had them long in his
possession; for it was improbable letters of so old a date should have
occupied his attention NOW, when many years had rolled over the memory
of his mother. And then, again, what was the meaning of the language
used by the implacable enemy of his father, that uncouth and ferocious
warrior of the Fleur de lis, not only on the occasion of the execution
of Halloway, but afterwards to his brother, during his short captivity;
and, subsequently, when, disguised as a black, he penetrated, with the
band of Ponteac, into the fort, and aimed his murderous weapon at his
father's head. What had made him the enemy of his family? and where and
how had originated his father's connection with so extraordinary and so
savage a being? Could he, in any way, be implicated with his mother?
But no; there was something revolting, monstrous, in the thought:
besides, had not his father stood forward the champion of her
innocence?--had he not declared, with an energy carrying conviction
with every word, that she was untainted by guilt? And would he have
done this, had he had reason to believe in the existence of a criminal
love for him who evidently was his mortal foe? Impossible.
Such were the questions and solutions that crowded on and distracted
the mind of the unhappy De Haldimar, who, after all, could arrive at no
satisfactory conclusion. It was evident there was a secret,--yet,
whatever its nature, it was one likely to go down with his father to
the grave; for, however humiliating the reflection to a haughty parent,
compelled to vindicate the honour of a mother to her son, and in direct
opposition to evidence that scarcely bore a shadow of
misinterpretation, it was clear he had motives for consigning the
circumstance to oblivion, which far outweighed any necessity he felt of
adducing other proofs of her innocence than those which rested on his
own simple yet impressive assertion.
In the midst of these bewildering doubts, De Haldimar heard some one
approaching in his rear, whose footsteps he distinguished from the
heavy pace of the sentinels. He turned, stopped, and was presently
joined by Captain Blessington.
"Why, dearest Charles," almost querulously asked the kind officer, as
he passed his arm through that of his subaltern,--"why will you persist
in feeding this love of solitude? What possible result can it produce,
but an utter prostration of every moral and physical energy? Come,
come, summon a little fortitude; all may not yet be so hopeless as you
apprehend. For my own part, I feel convinced the day will dawn upon
some satisfactory solution of the mystery of that packet."
"Blessington, my dear Blessington!"--and De Haldimar spoke with
mournful energy,--"you have known me from my boyhood, and, I believe,
have ever loved me; seek not, therefore, to draw me from the present
temper of my mind; deprive me not of an indulgence which, melancholy as
it is, now constitutes the sole satisfaction I take in existence."
"By Heaven! Charles, I will not listen to such language. You absolutely
put my patience to the rack."
"Nay, then, I will urge no more," pursued the young officer. "To
revert, therefore, to a different subject. Answer me one question with
sincerity. What were the contents of the packet you received from poor
Halloway previous to his execution? and in whose possession are they
now?"
Pleased to find the attention of his young friend diverted for the
moment from his sister, Captain Blessington quickly rejoiced, he
believed the packet contained letters which Halloway had stated to him
were of a nature to throw some light on his family connections. He had,
however, transferred it, with the seal unbroken, as desired by the
unhappy man, to Colonel de Haldimar.
An exclamation of surprise burst involuntarily from the lips of the
youth. "Has my father ever made any allusion to that packet since?" he
asked.
"Never," returned Captain Blessington; "and, I confess, his failing to
do so has often excited my astonishment. But why do you ask?"
De Haldimar energetically pressed the arm of his captain, while a heavy
sigh burst from his oppressed heart "This very night, Blessington, on
entering my father's apartment to apprise him of what was going on
here, I saw,--I can scarcely tell you what, but certainly enough to
convince me, from what you have now stated, Halloway was, in some
degree or other, connected with our family. Tell me," he anxiously
pursued, "was there a portrait enclosed with the letters?"
"I cannot state with confidence, Charles," replied his friend; "but if
I might judge from the peculiar form and weight of the packet, I should
be inclined to say not. Have you seen the letters, then?"
"I have seen certain letters which, I have reason to believe, are the
same," returned De Haldimar. "They were addressed to 'Reginald;' and
Halloway, I think you have told me, was so called by his unhappy wife."
"There can be little doubt they are the same," said Captain
Blessington; "but what were their contents, and by whom written, that
you deem they prove a connection between the unhappy soldier and your
family?"
De Haldimar felt the blood rise into his cheek, at this natural but
unexpected demand. "I am sure, Blessington," he replied, after a pause,
"you will not think me capable of unworthy mystery towards yourself but
the contents of these letters are sacred, inasmuch as they relate only
to circumstances connected with my father's family."
"This is singular indeed," exclaimed Captain Blessington, in a tone
that marked his utter and unqualified astonishment at what had now been
disclosed to him; "but surely, Charles," he pursued, "if the packet
handed me by Halloway were the same you allude to, he would have caused
the transfer to have been made before the period chosen by him for that
purpose."
"But the name," pursued De Haldimar; "how are we to separate the
identity of the packets, when we recur to that name of 'Reginald?'"
"True," rejoined the musing Blessington; "there is a mystery in this
that baffles all my powers of penetration. Were I in possession of the
contents of the letters, I might find some clue to solve the enigma:
but--"
"You surely do not mean this as a reproach, Blessington?" fervently
interrupted the youth. "More I dare not, cannot say, for the secret is
not my own; and feelings, which it would be dishonour to outrage, alone
bind me to silence. What little I have revealed to you even now, has
been uttered in confidence. I hope you have so understood it."
"Perfectly, Charles. What you have stated, goes no further; but we have
been too long absent from our guard, and I confess I have no particular
fancy for remaining in this chill night-air. Let us return."
De Haldimar made no opposition, and they both prepared to quit the
rampart. As they passed the sentinel stationed at that point where the
Indian had been first seen, their attention was directed by him to a
fire that now suddenly rose, apparently at a great distance, and
rapidly increased in volume. The singularity of this occurrence riveted
the officers for a moment in silent observation; until Captain
Blessington at length ventured a remark, that, judging from the
direction, and the deceptive nature of the element at night, he should
incline to think it was the hut of the Canadian burning.
"Which is another additional proof, were any such wanting, that every
thing is lost," mournfully urged the ever apprehensive De Haldimar.
"Francois has been detected in rendering aid to our friends; and the
Indians, in all probability, after having immolated their victim, are
sacrificing his property to their rage."
During this exchange of opinions, the officers had again moved to the
opposite point of the limited walk of the younger. Scarcely had they
reached it, and before Captain Blessington could find time to reply to
the fears of his friend, when a loud and distant booming like that of a
cannon was heard in the direction of the fire. The alarm was given
hastily by the sentinels, and sounds of preparation and arming were
audible in the course of a minute or two every where throughout the
fort. Startled by the report, which they had half inclined to imagine
produced by the discharge of one of their own guns, the half slumbering
officers had quitted the chairs in which they had passed the night in
the mess-room, and were soon at the side of their more watchful
companions, then anxiously listening for a repetition of the sound.
The day was just beginning to dawn, and as the atmosphere cleared
gradually away, it was perceived the fire rose not from the hut of the
Canadian, but at a point considerably beyond it. Unusual as it was to
see a large fire of this description, its appearance became an object
of minor consideration, since it might be attributed to some caprice or
desire on the part of the Indians to excite apprehension in their
enemies. But how was the report which had reached their ears to be
accounted for? It evidently could only have been produced by the
discharge of a cannon; and if so, where could the Indians have procured
it? No such arm had recently been in their possession; and if it were,
they were totally unacquainted with the manner of serving it.
As the day became more developed, the mystery was resolved. Every
telescope in the fort had been called into requisition; and as they
were now levelled in the direction of the fire, sweeping the line of
horizon around, exclamations of surprise escaped the lips of several.
"The fire is at the near extremity of the wood on Hog Island,"
exclaimed Lieutenant Johnstone. "I can distinctly see the forms of a
multitude of savages dancing round it with hideous gestures and
menacing attitudes."
"They are dancing their infernal war dance," said Captain Wentworth.
"How I should like to be able to discharge a twenty-four pound battery,
loaded with grape, into the very heart of the devilish throng."
"Do you see any prisoners?--Are any of our friends among them?" eagerly
and tremblingly enquired De Haldimar of the officer who had last spoken.
Captain Wentworth made a sweep of his glass along the shores of the
island; but apparently without success. He announced that he could
discover nothing but a vast number of bark canoes lying dry and
upturned on the beach.
"It is an unusual hour for their war dance," observed Captain
Blessington. "My experience furnishes me with no one instance in which
it has not been danced previous to their retiring to rest."
"Unless," said Lieutenant Boyce, "they should have been thus engaged
all night; in which case the singularity may be explained."
"Look, look," eagerly remarked Lieutenant Johnstone--"see how they are
flying to their canoes, bounding and leaping like so many devils broke
loose from their chains. The fire is nearly deserted already."
"The schooner--the schooner!" shouted Captain Erskine. "By Heaven, our
own gallant schooner! see how beautifully she drives past the island.
It was her gun we heard, intended as a signal to prepare us for her
appearance."
A thrill of wild and indescribable emotion passed through every heart.
Every eye was turned upon the point to which attention was now
directed. The graceful vessel, with every stitch of canvass set, was
shooting rapidly past the low bushes skirting the sands that still
concealed her hull; and in a moment or two she loomed largely and
proudly on the bosom of the Detroit, the surface of which was slightly
curled with a north-western breeze.
"Safe, by Jupiter!" exclaimed the delighted Erskine, dropping the glass
upon the rampart, and rubbing his hands together with every
manifestation of joy.
"The Indians are in chase," said Lieutenant Boyce; "upwards of fifty
canoes are following in the schooner's wake. But Danvers will soon give
us an account of their Lilliputian fleet."
"Let the troops be held in readiness for a sortie, Mr. Lawson," said
the governor, who had joined his officers just as the schooner cleared
the island; "we must cover their landing, or, with this host of savages
in pursuit, they will never effect it alive."
During the whole of this brief but exciting scene, the heart of Charles
de Haldimar beat audibly. A thousand hopes and fears rushed confusedly
on his mind, and he was as one bewildered by, and scarcely crediting
what he saw. Could Clara,--could his cousin--could his brother--could
his friend be on board? He scarcely dared to ask himself these
questions; still it was with a fluttering heart, in which hope,
however, predominated, that he hastened to execute an order of his
captain, that bore immediate reference to his duty as subaltern of the
guard.