THE DEATH OF THE DRUNKARD.
During my journey back to Rockland, I did not again meet with the
stranger, although I looked for him at every station, and when at
last I stepped from the cars at Canandaigua, I must confess to a
feeling of disappointment. I had expected Herbert to meet me, but he
was not there. I was just wondering what I should do in case he
failed to come, when my attention was attracted towards a tall,
athletic-looking young man, who was inspecting my trunk, which stood
upon the platform. Fearful lest my best clothes should be carried
off before my very face, I started quickly forward, demanding what he
was doing with my baggage.
The stranger stood up, and fixed upon me a pair of singularly
handsome, hazel eyes, which had in them an expression so penetrating
that I quailed beneath them; while at the same time there swept over
me a strange, undefined feeling as if somewhere in a dream,
perchance, I had met that glance before.
"Are you Miss Lee?" he asked, and the tones of his voice thrilled me
like an echo of the past.
I replied in the affirmative; and without once taking his eyes from
my face, he said, "I am Henry Watson, Mr. Langley's hired man. He
sent me for you, and the wagon is at the other door."
Mechanically I followed him to the place designated, and then, as if
I had been a feather, he took me in his arms and placed me in the
wide chair, wrapping the buffalo-robes around me, and in various ways
seeing that I was comfortable. He did not seem to me like a
hireling, for his language was good, his manner gentlemanly, and ere
we were half-way to Breeze Hill I was very much prepossessed in his
favor, except, indeed, that he would look at me so much. He was
quite talkative, asking me of my parents, of my brothers, and
appearing much gratified when I told him how well Charlie was doing
as clerk in a dry goods store in Worcester.
"And Mr. Langley is only your cousin by marriage?" he said at last.
"Have you any other male cousins?" he asked.
"I had a boy cousin once," I said, "but he is probably dead, for we
have not heard from him in six long years."
Forgetful that Mr. Watson was to me an entire stranger, I very
briefly told him the story of "Cousin Will," who returned not with
the vessel which bore him away, and who had deserted the ship at
Calcutta. For many days they searched for him in vain, and at last
left him alone in that far-off land, where he had probably met an
early death.
"He must have been a wild boy, and I dare say you felt relieved to be
rid of him," said Mr. Watson, who had appeared deeply interested in
my story.
"Yes, he was wild," I replied, "but I liked him very, very much, and
cried myself sick when he went away."
Again the stranger's eyes fell upon me with a look I could not
fathom. I grew uneasy, and was not sorry when about sunset we turned
into the long, shady avenue which led up to the house. As if by
magic, a wondrous change had been wrought in my absence; for
everything around the building wore an air of neatness and thrift,
which betokened that there was now a head to manage and direct.
Herbert, too, was perfectly sober, while Anna's face was far happier
than when I last saw her. The cause of this she explained to me the
first moment we were alone. Herbert had signed the pledge! Had
become a sober man, and all through the exertions of Mr. Watson, whom
she pronounced an angel in disguise. And, truly, his influence over
Herbert was wonderful; for never did an anxious mother watch over her
sickly child more carefully than Mr. Watson watched over his
employer, shielding him from temptation, and gently leading him in
the path of rectitude; until the wine-flush on his cheek gave way to
a hue of health; the redness of his eyes was gone, and conscious of
the victory he had achieved, he stood forth again in all the pride of
his manhood, sober, virtuous, and happy.
Such was the state of things when, early in April, we received
invitations to attend a wedding party at the house of Judge Perkins,
whose broad acres and heavy purse of gold had purchased for him a
fair young girl, just his eldest daughter's age! It was to be a
splendid affair, for all the _élite_ of Rockland were bidden, and, as
a matter of course, _I_ forthwith commenced looking over my wardrobe,
and declaring I had nothing to wear! Anna, on the contrary, did not
seem at all interested, and when I questioned her for her
indifference, she replied, "What if they have _wine_, and Herbert
should drink?"
"They wouldn't have wine," I told her, for Judge Perkins was a
staunch temperance man, and it was not probable that he would do
anything so inconsistent with his profession.
After a time she became convinced that her fears were groundless, and
began with me to anticipate the expected pleasure. Henry Watson was
not invited, but he carried us to the door, going himself to the
hotel to wait until we were ready to return. Just as he was leaving
us he whispered a few words to Herbert, who replied, gaily, "Never
fear for me. Judge Perkins isn't the man to throw temptation in my
way."
Ah, would it had been so! Would that the sparkling champagne, the
ruby wine, and the foaming ale had not graced that marriage feast,
for then, perchance, one grave at least would not have been made so
soon, nor the widow's weeds worn by my sister ere the bloom of youth
had faded from her brow.
I saw her cheek pale as we entered the supper-room, but when amid the
din and uproar which succeeded the drawing of the corks, Herbert
stood firm to his pledge, refusing to drink, though urged to do so,
the color came back to her face, and her eye proudly followed her
husband, whose easy manners made him a favorite, and who, with ready
tact, moved among the guests, doing far more towards their
entertainment than the master of the house himself. He was standing
near the bride, a beautiful young creature, with a sunny face and
radiant smile. Diamonds were wreathed in her shining curls, and
shone upon her snowy arms, while the costly veil almost swept the
floor, and enveloped her slight form like a misty cloud. Very
affable and polite had she been to Herbert, and now as he approached
her, she took from the table two goblets of wine, and passing one to
him, said, "Mr. Langley, I am sure, will not refuse to drink with me,
the bride?"
To refuse would have seemed uncourteous; and so, with a hasty glance
at his wife, he drank the health of the lovely woman, who, in an
angel's guise, unconsciously tempted him to ruin. Involuntarily,
Anna gasped as if for breath, while she started quickly forward to
stay the rash act; but she was too late, and with a faint moan of
anguish, she turned away to hide her tears. One taste awoke the
slumbering demon, and set his veins on fire; and when at midnight Mr.
Watson came for us, he took the insensible man in his arms and placed
him in the wagon, beside the weeping wife, whose fond hopes were now
wrecked forever.
From that time Herbert made no further attempt at reform, but night
after night, came reeling home, sometimes singing a bacchanalian
song, and again rending the air with curses, until at last poor Anna
learned to tremble at the sound of his footsteps; for he daily grew
more and more violent and unmanageable, defying every one save Mr.
Watson, who possessed over him a singular power. Thus the spring and
summer passed away, and when the autumn came few would have
recognized the once handsome Herbert Langley in the bloated creature,
who, weak and feeble, lay all day long in bed, begging for
"brandy--more brandy" to fan the flame which was feeding upon his
vitals. Sometimes in his fits of frenzy he would spring upon the
floor, and shriek for us to save him from the crawling serpents,
which, with forked tongues and little green eyes, hissed at him from
all parts of the room. Again he would say that the spirit of the
murdered maiden was before him, whispering to him unutterable things
concerning the drunkard's home beyond the grave, while goblins of
every conceivable form beckoned him to come and join their hideous
dance.
Once, when he was more quiet than usual, he said to me, "Rose, do you
remember what I once told you about my mother's joining the church
and reading her prayers?"
I replied in the affirmative, and he continued--"Do you know I'd give
the world, were it mine, if I could hear her pray for me once more.
It would cool my scorching brain, and if I dared pray for myself, I
know I should be healed; but I cannot, for the moment I attempt it,
there are legions of imps who flit and grin before my face, while
one, larger and more unseemly than the rest, shouts in my ears,
'LOST, LOST, TO ALL ETERNITY!' there--look, don't you hear it?" and
shivering with fright, he covered his head with the bedclothes.
But I heard nothing save the heaving swell of the waves, and the
sullen roar of the lake, which came in through the open window,
seeming to his disordered imagination an accusing spirit from another
world. At last looking up timidly and speaking low, as if fearful of
being over, heard, he said, "Is there a Prayer Book in the house?"
I answered in the affirmative. Raising himself upon his elbow, and
glancing fearfully around, he continued, "Bring it quick, while they
are away, and put it under my pillow. Who knows but it may operate
like a spell!"
I complied with his request, and brought the book, which he placed
under his head, saying, "There--now I can pray, and God won't let
them mock me, will he, think?"
I could only weep as he folded his long white hands one over the
other, and said reverently the prayer taught him years and years
before, commencing with--
"Now I lay me down to sleep," etc.
As if the words, indeed, had a soothing power, he almost instantly
fell into a deep sleep, from which he awoke refreshed, and better
than he had been for several days. They said he could not live; and
though it was a painful task, Anna wrote to his mother apprising her
of his danger, and bidding her hasten, if she would see him again.
During the few remaining weeks of his life he was subject to strange
fancies. For a time the Prayer Book beneath his pillow had the
effect of keeping him comparatively quiet; but, anon, it lost its
power, and one day he awoke with a fearful shriek. The imps, as he
called them, had again returned, and were mockingly taunting him with
the victory he vainly imagined he had obtained.
"Keep off, ye devils!" he shouted, drawing the volume from beneath
his pillow, and holding it to view. "Keep off; for, see, this book
is full of prayers, which my mother has said. _My mother_! Do you
hear? Ha! They laugh at the idea, and well they may. Had she
learned to pray sooner, I might not have been the vile thing that I
am. But _she_ taught me to _drink_. She set the example; so go to
_her_ with those horrid faces, besmeared with the smoke of the pit."
There was a bitter groan, and then the wretched woman, his mother,
fell half fainting upon a chair. She had just arrived, and eager to
see her boy, had entered the room in time to hear what he said. He
knew her in a moment, and starting upright in bed, exclaimed, "Woman,
look--this is your work--the result of your example. There _was_ a
time, long ago--how long ago it seems--but there was a time, I say,
when I loathed the very smell of the liquors, which daily graced our
table. By little and by little that loathing was overcome. _You_
drank and called it good; and what one's mother says is true. So I,
too, tasted and tasted again until here I am, Herbert Langley,
husband of Anna Lee, ruined body and soul--body and soul! What do
you say to that, mother?"
He sank back upon the bed exhausted; while Aunt Charlotte, who had
swooned entirely away, was taken from the room. The shock was too
great for her, and for two days she did not again venture into his
presence. The next time, however, that she saw him, his mood had
changed, and winding his feeble arms around her neck, he wept like a
child, asking her to take from his heart the worm which was gnawing
there. Oh, how I pitied the heart-broken woman! for I well knew she
would gladly have lain down her life could that have saved her son.
For three days longer he lingered, and then there came the closing
scene, which haunted me for months.
He had been restless during the night, muttering incoherently, and
occasionally striking at the fancied shapes which surrounded him; but
towards morning he grew more violent, and at last with a shriek which
chilled my blood, he sprang from the bed, and pointing towards the
window, whispered, "Hark! Don't you hear it?--_music from the
infernal regions_! They are come, every demon of them, for me. It's
a grand turnout. There! Don't you see them with their flaming eyes
looking through the windows, and that shriveled hag, whose hair is
curling snakes! See! She beckons me with her bony claws, and says I
am to be _her_ son. Do you hear that, mother? _Her son_! Go back!"
he shouted, leaping towards the window. "You don't get me this time.
I won't die yet. Give me the Prayer Book, and let me hurl it at her
head--that'll settle her, I reckon."
He would have gone through the window, had not Mr. Watson taken him
in his arms and borne him back to the bed, where he held him fast,
soothing him as best he could by assuring him there were no such
unearthly objects in the room as he supposed.
"I know it," said Herbert, for a moment comparatively rational. "I
know what it is. It is DELIRIUM TREMENS, and I know what causes it,
too; shall I tell you?"
Mr. Watson nodded, and Herbert continued: "_Cider, beer, wine,
brandy_--DEATH: that's the program which keeps the fire of hell
eternally burning. Where is my boy--Anna's boy and mine?" he asked
after a pause.
"Do you wish to see him?" asked Mr. Watson.
"See him? Yes. I want to do one good deed before I die. _I would
kill him_--murder my only child, and send him to Heaven, where
rumsellers never go--where women, with witching eyes and luring
words, never tempt men to drink. Bring him in: why do you loiter?"
turning to Anna. "Is it that you would have him live to be the wreck
I am--to curse the mother who bore him and the day he was born!
Bring him quick, I tell you, for time hastens, and in the distance I
hear the clank of the hag's footsteps."
"Oh, Herbert, Herbert, my poor husband," was all Anna could say, as
she wound her arms around his neck and laid her colorless cheek
against his fevered brow.
In a moment he grew calm, and drawing her to his bosom, his tears
fell like rain upon her face, while he called her his "wounded dove,"
and asked her forgiveness for all he had made her suffer. "You will
live with mother when I am gone," he said. "You and Jamie. God
forbid that I should harm our beautiful boy; but I would see him once
more. Don't be afraid," he added, as he saw her hesitate. "I will
not hurt him."
Disengaging herself from her husband's embrace, Anna glided from the
room, to which she soon returned, leading little Jamie, now two years
of age. Very lovingly the dying man looked upon his son, and then
laying Lis shaking hand upon the golden curls, he said, "God keep
you, my boy, from being what I am; and if a drunkard's blessing can
be of any avail, you have mine, my precious, precious child."
"Would you like to kiss him?" asked Aunt Charlotte; to which he
replied, "No, no; I am too polluted to touch aught so pure. But take
him away," he continued, growing excited. "Take him away, for the
demon on my pillow is again whispering of murder."
Hastily the wondering child was taken from the room, and then Herbert
fell into a disturbed slumber, in which he seemed to be holding
converse with beings of another world, inquiring of them if they had
enough to drink, and chiding the rich man for asking _water_, when he
might as well call for _brandy_!
About noon he awoke and inquired for me. With some trepidation I
approached him, for his eyes were those of a madman; but he meditated
no harm, and only asked if I supposed that the Prayer Book laid upon
the outside of his pillow, where the hag could see it, would have the
effect of keeping her away.
"Perhaps so," I said, at the same time placing it so that his heavy
brown hair fell partially on it.
"Now, will some one pray--mother, you?" and his eyes turned
imploringly towards the half crazed woman, who essayed to pray for
the departing spirit.
"That'll do--that'll do," he exclaimed, interrupting her. "It's of
no use spending your breath for me. It's too late--too late--so the
hag says, and she's coming again, with myriads on myriads of fiends;
but they can't hurt me as long as this is here," and his hand
clutched convulsively for the book which lay beside him.
"The hymn book--the hymn book--bring that too," he gasped, while a
cold perspiration stood thickly upon his forehead.
It was brought and placed on the opposite side of his head.
"'Twon't do--'twon't do," he sobbed. "All the hymns Dr. Watts ever
wrote can't help me, for they come nearer and nearer, as wolves hover
round their prey. Is there no help, no escape?" he cried, with the
energy of despair; adding, as a sudden look of joy lit up his ghastly
features, "Yes--the BIBLE! Strange I have not thought of that
before. The Bible will keep them at bay. Bring it, Anna, quick, for
they are almost here."
She obeyed; and grasping the word of God eagerly in his hands, he
laughed aloud, saying, "Now, do your worst, ye fiends incarnate. The
Bible will save me."
There was a moment of perfect silence; and then, with a groan so full
of anguish that I involuntarily stopped my ears to shut out the
fearful sound, the Bible was loosed from the clammy hands, which for
a brief instant fought fiercely in the empty air, and then dropped
lifeless at his side.
HERBERT WAS DEAD!
* * * * * *
At the foot of the garden, near the long avenue where the shadow of
the maple trees would fall upon his grave, and the moan of the lake
be always heard, we buried him; and then, the broken-hearted Anna,
widowed thus early, went back to her accustomed duties, performing
each one quietly, and gently, but without a smile upon her white,
stony face, or a tear in her large mournful blue eyes. Aunt
Charlotte, too, utterly crushed and wretched, went back to her city
home, having first won a promise from Anna that in the autumn she
would follow her. And then we were left alone with our great sorrow,
wholly dependent, as it were, upon Mr. Watson, for support and
counsel.
There had always been about him a mystery I could not fathom, and
greatly was I surprised when one evening, a week after Herbert's
death, he asked me to go with him to his room, as there was something
he wished to tell me. I complied with his request, and was soon
seated in the large willow chair near the table on which lay many
works of our best authors, for he possessed a taste for literature,
and devoted all his leisure moments to study. Drawing a seat to my
side, he said, taking my hand in his, "Rosa, what do you think I am
going to tell you?"
I tried to wrest my hand from his grasp, for the unwonted liberty
angered me. But he held it fast, smiling at my fruitless endeavors,
and after a moment continued: "Why do you try to remove your hand
from mine? I have held it many a time, and I have a right so to
do--a cousin's right. Look at me, Rosa, don't you know me?"
Involuntarily I started to my feet, gazing earnestly upon him, then
with a cry of joy I threw my arms around his neck, exclaiming,
"_Cousin Will! Cousin Will!_"
It was indeed he, come back to us when we had thought of him as dead.
A few words will suffice to tell his story. Perfectly disgusted with
sea life, he had deserted at Calcutta, where he kept himself secreted
until the vessel sailed. But it was not his wish to remain there
long, and the first time an English ship was in port he offered to
work his passage to Liverpool. The offer was accepted, and while we
were mourning over his supposed death he was threading the smoky
streets of London, doing sometimes one thing and sometimes another,
but always earning an honest livelihood.
"Never, for a moment," said he, "did I forget your family, but I have
fancied they were glad to be rid of me, and hence my silence. When
at last I returned again to New York, I went one day to a
reading-room, where I accidentally came across Mr. Langley's
advertisement, and something prompted me to answer it in person. If
I had ever heard of him before, I had forgotten it; consequently I
neither recognized him nor his wife, who has changed much since I saw
her; but when I accidentally heard them speak of 'Rosa,' and 'Meadow
Brook,' my curiosity was roused, and I became aware of the
relationship existing between us. Why I have kept it a secret so
long I can hardly tell, except that there was about it, to me, a kind
of pleasing excitement, and then, too, I fancied that Mr. Langley
would not so well hear restraint and direction from me if he supposed
me an interested party; but he has gone, and concealment on that
score is no longer necessary. I have told you my story, Rosa, and
now it is for you to say whether I am again received and loved as the
'Cousin Will' of olden time."
He was a big, tall man, six feet two inches high, while I was a young
girl scarcely yet seventeen; but notwithstanding all this, I threw my
arms around his sunburnt neck and kissed his sunburnt cheek as I had
often done before. This was my answer, and with it he was satisfied.
After leaving his room I went directly to my sister, to whom I
repeated the strange story I had heard. She was pleased and
gratified, but her faculties were too much benumbed for her to
manifest any particular emotion, though as time wore on I could see
how much she leaned upon him and confided in his judgment. It seemed
necessary for her to remain in Rockland through the summer, and as
she would not consent to my leaving her, I was rather compelled to
stay; although almost weekly there came to us letters from home
urging our return, and at last, near the middle of September, we one
day received a letter from Charlie, which, owing to some delay, had
been on the road two whole weeks. In it he wrote that our father had
failed rapidly within a few days and we must come quickly if we would
again see him alive, adding that he talked almost constantly of Rose,
asking if they thought she would come.
Oh, how vividly I recalled the past, remembering with anguish the
harsh words I had uttered when last I saw him. It was true I had
once written, imploring pardon for my fault, and Lizzie, who answered
my letter, had said, "Father bade me say that you were freely
forgiven;" but still I felt that I could not let him die until I had
heard my forgiveness from his own lips. It was impossible for Anna
to accompany me, and, as William would not leave her, I started
alone, my heart filled with many dark forebodings, lest I should be
too late.