THE TALE AND FATAL SECRET.
The dwelling of Benjamin Younker, as already mentioned, stood at the
base of a hill, on the margin of a beautiful valley, and within a
hundred feet of a lucid stream, whose waters, finding their source in
the neighboring bills, rushed down, all gleesome and sparkling, over a
limestone bed, and
"From morn till night, from night till morn,"
sung gentle melodies for all who chose to listen.
The building itself though rough, both externally and internally, was
what at that period was termed a double cabin; and in this respect was
entitled to a superiority over most of its neighbors. As this may serve
for a representative of the houses or cabins of the early settlers of
Kentucky, we shall proceed to describe its structure and general
appearance somewhat more minutely than might otherwise be deemed
necessary.
The sides of the cottage in question, were composed of logs, rough from
the woods where they had been felled, with the bark still clinging to
them, and without having undergone other transformation than being cut
to a certain length, and notched at either end, so as to sink into each
other, when crossed at right angles, until their bodies met, thereby
forming a structure of compactness, strength and solidity. Some ten or
twelve feet from the ground, the two upper end logs of the cabin
projected a foot or eighteen inches beyond the lower, and supported what
were called _butting poles_--poles which crossed these projections at
right angles, and, extending along the front and back of the building,
formed the eaves of the roof. This latter was constructed by gradually
shortening the logs at either end, until those which crossed them, as we
said before, at right angles, came together at an angle of forty-five
degrees, and the last one formed the ridge-pole or comb of the whole. On
these logs, lapping one over the other, and the lower tier resting
against the butting poles, were laid slabs of clapboard--a species of
plank split from some straight-grained tree--about four feet long, and
from three to four wide. These were secured in their places by logs in
turn resting on them, at certain intervals, and answering the purpose of
nails; necessity requiring these latter articles of convenience to be
dispensed with in the early settlements of the West. As the cabin was
double, two doors gave entrance from without, one into either apartment.
These entrances were formed by cutting away the logs for the space of
three feet by six, and were closed by rude doors, made of rough slabs,
pinned strongly to heavy cross bars, and hung on hinges of the same
material. These, like the rest of the building, were rendered, by their
thickness, bullet proof--so that when closed and bolted, the house was
capable of withstanding an ordinary attack of the Indians. With the
exception of one window, opening into the apartment generally occupied
by the family, and flanked by a heavy shutter, the doors and chimney
were the only means through which light and air were admitted. These
were all firmly secured at night--the unsettled and exposed state of the
country, and the dangerous proximity of the pioneers to the ruthless
savage, particularly those without the forts, rendering necessary, on
their part, the most vigilant caution.
The internal appearance of the cabin corresponded well with the
external. The apartment occupied by the family during the day, where the
meals were cooked and served, and the general household affairs attended
to, was very homely; and might, if contrasted with some of the present
time, be termed almost wretched; though considered, at the period of
which we write, rather above than below the ordinary. The floor was
composed of what by the settlers were termed puncheons; which were made
by splitting in half trees of some eighteen inches in diameter, and
hewing the faces of them as regular as possible with the broad-axe.
These were laid, bark side downwards, upon sleepers running crosswise
for the purpose, and formed at least a dry, solid and durable, if not
polished, floor. At one end of the cabin was the chimney, built of logs,
outside the apartment, but connecting with it by a space cut away for
the purpose. The back, jambs, and hearth of this chimney were of stone,
and put together, in a manner not likely to be imitated by masons of
the present day. A coarse kind of plaster filled up the surrounding
crevices, and served to keep out the air and give a rude finish to the
whole.
The furniture of the Younkers, if the title be not too ambiguous, would
scarcely have been coveted by any of our modern exquisites, even had
they been living in that age of straight-forward common sense. A large,
rough slab, split from some tree, and supported by round legs set in
auger holes, had the honor of standing for a table--around which, like a
brood of chickens around their mother, were promiscuously collected
several three-legged stools of similar workmanship. In one corner of the
room were a few shelves; on which were ranged some wooden trenchers,
pewter plates, knives and forks, and the like necessary articles, while
a not very costly collection of pots and kettles took a less dignified
and prominent position beneath. Another corner was occupied by a bed,
the covering of which was composed of skins of different animals, with
sheetings of home-made linen. In the vicinity of the bed, along the
wall, was a row of pegs, suspending various garments of the occupants;
all of which--with the exception of a few articles, belonging to Ella,
procured for her before the death of her father--were of the plainest
and coarsest description. A churn--a clock--the latter a very rare thing
among the pioneers of Kentucky--a footwheel for spinning flax--a small
mirror--together with several minor articles, of which it is needless to
speak--completed the inventory of the apartment. From this room were two
exits, besides the outer door--one by a ladder leading above to a sort
of attic chamber, where were two beds; and the other through the wall
into the adjoining cabin, whither our hero had been borne in a state of
insensibility on the night of his mishap, and where he was for the
second time presented to the reader. This latter place was graced with a
bed, a loom for weaving, a spinning-wheel, a large oaken chest, and a
few rough benches.
Such, reader, as our description has set forth, was the general
appearance of Younker's dwelling, both without and within, in the year
of our Lord 1781; and, moreover, a fair representative of an hundred
others of the period in question--so arbitrary was necessity in making
one imitate the other. But to resume our story.
In the after part of a day as mild and beautiful as the one on which we
opened our narrative, but some four weeks later, Ella Barnwell,
needle-work in hand, was seated near the open door leading from the
apartment first described to the reader. Her head was bent forward, and
her eyes were apparently fixed upon her occupation with great
intentness--though a close observer might have detected furtive glances
occasionally thrown upon a young man, with a pale and somewhat agitated
countenance, who was pacing to and fro on the ground without. With the
exception of these two, no person was within sight--though the rattling
of a loom in the other apartment or cabin, betokened the vicinity of the
industrious hostess.
For some moments the young man--a no less personage than our hero--paced
back and forth like one whose mind is harrowed by some disagreeable
thought: then suddenly halting in front of the doorway, and in a voice
which, though not intended to be so, was slightly tremulous, he
addressed himself to the young lady, in words denoting a previous
conversation.
"Then I must have said some strange things, Ella--I beg pardon--Miss
Barnwell."
"Have I not requested you, Mr. Reynolds, on more than one occasion, to
call me Ella, instead of using the formality which rather belongs to
strangers in fashionable society than to those dwelling beneath the same
roof, in the wilds of Kentucky?" responded the person addressed, in a
tone of pique, while she raised her head and let her soft, dark eyes
rest reproachfully on the other.
"Well, well, Ella," rejoined Reynolds, "I crave pardon for my
heedlessness; and promise you, on that score at least, no more cause for
offence in future."
"Offence!" said Ella, quickly, catching at the word: "O, no--no--not
offence, Mr. Reynolds! I should be sorry to take offence at what was
meant in all kindness, and with true respect; but somehow I--that
is--perhaps it may not appear so to others--but I--to me it appears
studied--and--and--cold;" and as she concluded, in a hesitating manner,
she quickly bent her head forward, while her cheek crimsoned at the
thought, that she might perhaps have ventured too far, and laid herself
liable to misconstruction.
"And yet, Ella," returned Reynolds, somewhat playfully, "you resemble
many others I have known, in preaching what you do not practice. You
request me to lay aside all formality, and address you by your name
only; while you, in that very request, apply to me the title you
consider as studied, formal and cold."
"You have reference to my saying _Mr._ Reynolds, I presume," answered
Ella; "but I see no analogy between the two; as in addressing you thus,
I do but what, under the circumstances, is proper; and what, doubtless,
habit has rendered familiar to your ear; while, on the other hand, no
one ever thinks of calling me any thing but Ella, or at the most, Ella
Barnwell--and hence all superfluities grate harshly."
"Even complimentary adjectives, eh?" asked Reynolds, with an arch look.
"Even those, Mr. Reynolds; and those most of all are offensive, I assure
you."
"I thought all of your sex were fond of flattery."
"Then have you greatly erred in thinking."
"But thus says general report."
"Then, sir, general report is a slanderer, and should not be credited.
Those who court flattery, are weak-minded and vain; and I trust you do
not so consider all our sex."
"Heaven forbid," answered Reynolds, with energy, "that I should think
thus of all, or judge any too harshly!--but there may be causes to force
one into the conviction, that the exceptions are too few to spoil the
rule."
"I trust such is not your case," responded Ella, quickly, while her eyes
rested on the other with a searching glance.
"No one is required to criminate himself in law," replied Reynolds,
evasively, with a sigh; and then immediately added, as if anxious to
change the topic: "But I am eager for you to inform me what I said
during my delirium."
"O, many things," returned Ella, "the half of which I could not repeat;
but more particularly you spoke of troubles at home, and often repeated
the name of Elvira with great bitterness. Then you would run on
incoherently, for some time, about pistols, and swords, and end by
saying that the quarrel was just--that you were provoked to it, until it
became almost self defence--and that if he died, his blood would be on
his own head."
"Good heavens, Ella! did I indeed say this?" exclaimed Reynolds, with a
start, while his features became deadly pale. "Did I say more? did I
mention further particulars?--speak! tell me--tell me truly!"
"Not in my hearing," answered Ella, while her own face blanched at the
sudden vehemence of the other.
"Well, well, do not be alarmed!" said Reynolds, evidently somewhat
relieved, and softening his voice, as he noticed the change in her
countenance; "people sometimes say strange things, when reason, the
great regulator of the tongue, is absent. What construction did you put
upon my words, Ella?"
"Why, in sooth," replied Ella, watching his features closely as she
spoke, "I thought nothing of them, other than to suppose you might
formerly have had some trouble; and that in the chaos of wild images
crowding your brain, after being attacked and wounded by savages, it was
natural some of these image should be of a bloody nature."
"Then you did not look upon the words as having reference to a reality."
"No! at the time I did not."
"At the time?" repeated Reynolds, with a slight fall of countenance;
"have you then seen or heard any thing since to make you suspicious?"
"Nothing--until--"
"Well, well," said Reynolds, quickly, as she hesitated; "speak out and
fear nothing!"
"Until but now, when you became so agitated, and spoke so vehemently on
my repeating your delirious language," added Ella, concluding the
sentence.
"Ha!" ejaculated Reynolds, as if to himself; "sanity has done more to
betray me than delirium. Well, Ella," continued he, addressing her more
direct, "you have heard enough to make you doubtful of my character;
therefore you must needs hear the whole, that you may not judge me worse
than I am; but remember, withal, the tale is for your ear alone."
"Nay, Mr. Reynolds, if it be a secret, I would rather not have it in
keeping," answered Ella.
"It is a secret," returned Reynolds, solemnly, with his eyes cast down
in a dejected manner; "a secret, I would to Heaven I had not myself in
keeping! but hear it you must, Ella, for various reasons, from my lips;
and then we part--(his voice slightly faltered) we part--forever!"
"Forever!" gasped Ella, quickly, with a choking sensation, while her
features grew pale, and then suddenly flushed, and her work
unconsciously dropped from her hand. Then, as if ashamed of having
betrayed her feelings, she became confused, and endeavored to cover the
exposure by adding, with a forced laugh: "But really, Mr. Reynolds, I
must crave pardon for my silly behavior--but your manner of speaking,
somehow, startled me--and--and I--before I was aware--really, it was
very silly--indeed it was, and I pray you overlook it!"
"Were circumstances not as I have too much reason to fear they are,"
returned Reynolds, slowly, sadly, and impressively, with his eyes fixed
earnestly and even tenderly upon the other, "I would not exchange that
simple expression of yours, Ella, for a mine of gold. By that alone you
have spoken volumes, and told me what I already feared was true, but
hoped was otherwise. Nay, turn not your head away, Ella--dear Ella, if
you will allow me so to address you--it is better, under the
circumstances, that we speak plainly and understandingly, as the time of
our final separation draweth near. I fear that my manner and language
have hitherto too much expressed my feelings, and encouraged hopes in
you that can never be realized. Oh! Ella, if such be the case, I would,
for your dear sake, we had never met!--and the thought hereafter, that I
have caused you a pang, will add its weight of anguish to my already
bitter lot. The days that I have spent beneath this hospitable roof, and
in your sweet presence, are so many of bright sunshine, in a life of
cloud and storm; but will only serve, as I recall them, to make the
remainder, by contrast, seem more dark and dreary. From the first I
learned you were an orphan, and my sympathy was aroused in your behalf;
subsequently, I listened to your recital of grief, and trouble, and cold
treatment by the world--told in an artless manner--and in spite of me,
in spite of my struggles to the contrary, I discovered awakening in my
breast a feeling of a stronger nature. Had my wound permitted, I should
have torn myself from your presence then, with the endeavor, if such a
thing were possible, to forget you; but, alas! fate ordered otherwise,
and the consequence I fear will be to add sorrow to both. But one thing,
dear Ella, before I go further, let me ask: Can you, and will you
forgive me, for the manner in which I have conducted myself in your
company?"
"I have nothing to forgive; and had I, it should be forgiven," answered
Ella, sweetly, in a timid voice, her hands unconsciously toying with her
needle-work, and her face half averted, whereon could be traced the
suppressed workings of internal emotion.
"Thank you, Ella--thank you, for taking a weight from my heart. And now,
ere I proceed with what to both of us will prove a painful revelation,
let me make one request more--a foolish one I know--but one I trust you
will grant nevertheless."
"Name it," said Ella, timidly, as the other paused.
"It is, simply, that in judging me by the evidence I shall give against
myself, you will lean strongly to the side of mercy; and, when I am
gone, think of me rather as an unfortunate than criminal being."
"You alarm me, Mr. Reynolds, with such a request!" answered Ella,
looking up to the other with a pale, anxious countenance. "I know not
the meaning of it! and, as I said before, I would rather not have your
secret in keeping--the more so, as you say the revelation will be a
painful one to both."
For a moment the young man paused, as though undecided as to his reply,
while his countenance expressed a look of mortified regret really
painful to behold--so much so, that Ella, moved by this to a feeling of
compassion, said:
"I perceive my answer wounds your feelings--I meant no harm; go on with
your story; I will listen, and endeavor to concede all you desire."
"Thank you--again thank you!" returned the other, energetically, with
emotion. "I will make my narrative brief as possible."
Saying which, he entered the apartment where the other was sitting, and
seating himself a few feet distant from her, after some little
hesitation, as if to bring his resolution to the point, thus began:
"I shall pass over all minor affairs of my life, and come at once to the
period and event, which changed me from a happy youth, blessed with home
and friends, to a wanderer--I know not but an outlaw--on the face of the
earth. I was born in the state of Connecticut, A.D. 1759; and my father
being a man of property, and one determined on giving his children (of
whom there were two, one older than myself) a liberal education, I was
at an early age sent to a neighboring school, where I remained until
turned of eighteen, and then returned to my parents.
"About this period, an old, eccentric lady--a maiden aunt of my
father--died, bequeathing to me--or rather to the second born of her
nephew, Albert Reynolds, which chanced to be myself--the bulk of her
property--in value some fifty thousand dollars, on condition, that,
between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two, I should marry a certain
Elvira Longworth--a lady some three years my junior, for whom my great
aunt had formed a strong attachment. And the will further provided, That
in case the said second born of Albert Reynolds, either through the
intervention of Providence, in removing him from off the face of the
earth, (so it was worded) and from among the living, or through a mutual
dislike of the parties seemed, did not between the specified ages,
celebrate, with due rejoicing, the said nuptials with the said Elvira
Longworth, the sum of twenty thousand dollars should be paid over to the
said Elvira, if living, and the remainder of the property (or in case
she was deceased the whole) should revert to the regular heirs at law.
"Such was the will--one of the most singular perhaps on record--which,
whatever the design of its author, was destined, by a train of
circumstances no one could foresee, to result in the most terrible
consequences to those it should have benefited. On the reading thereof,
no little dissatisfaction was expressed in regard to it, by numerous
relatives of the deceased; each of whom, as a matter of course, was
expecting a considerable share of the old lady's property; and all of
whom, with but few exceptions, were nearer akin than myself; and
therefore, in that respect, more properly entitled to it. As a
consequence of the will, I, though innocent of its construction--for
none could be more surprised at it than myself--became a regular target
for the ridicule, envy, and hate of those who chanced to be disappointed
thereby. At the outset, I had no intention of seeking a title to the
property by complying with the specification set forth at the instance
of its late owner; and only looked upon it as a piece of crack-brained
folly, that would serve for a nine days' comment and jest, and then be
forgotten; but when I saw, that instead of being treated with the
courtesy and respect no conscious act of mine had ever forfeited, I was
ridiculed, sneered at, and looked upon with jealousy and hate by those
whose souls were too narrow to believe in a noble action--and who,
measuring and judging me by their own sordid standards of avaricious
justice, deemed I would spare no pains to legally rob them, as they
termed it,--when I saw this, I say, my blood became heated, my fiercer
passions were roused, and I inwardly swore, that if it were now in my
power to accomplish what they feared, I would do it, though the lady in
question were a fright to look upon. In this decision I was rather
encouraged by my father, who being at the time somewhat involved,
thought it a feasible plan of providing for me, and then, by my aid,
recovering from his own pecuniary embarrassments.
"As yet I had never seen Elvira--she living in an adjoining county,
some thirty miles distant, where my aunt, on a visit to a distant
relative, had first made her acquaintance, and formed that singular
attachment, peculiar to eccentric temperaments, which had resulted in
the manner already shown. Accordingly, one fine spring morning, I
mounted my horse, and set forth to seek my intended, and behold what
manner of person she was of. Late at night I arrived at the village
where she resided--stabled my beast--took lodging at a hotel--inquired
out her residence--and, betimes, the morning following, made my
obeisance in her presence, and with that bashful, awkward grace--if I
may be allowed so paradoxical a term--which my youth present purpose,
and former good breeding combined, were calculated to produce. I was
more embarrassed still a minute after, when, having given my name, and
hinted at the singular document of the old lady deceased, I found my
fair intended, as well as her family, were in total ignorance of my
meaning; and could I at the moment have been suddenly transferred to my
horse, I do not think I should have paused to make the necessary
explanation. As it was, there was no alternative; and accordingly
begging a private interview with Elvira, I disclosed the whole secret;
which she listened to for a time with unfeigned surprise; and then
bursting into a wild, ringing laugh, declared it to be 'The funniest and
most ridiculous thing she ever heard of.'
"She was a gay, sprightly, beautiful being--fresh in the bloom of some
fifteen summers--with a bright, sparkling, roguish eye--long, floating,
auburn ringlets--a musical voice--a ringing laugh--the latter frequent
and long,--so that I soon felt it needed not the stimulating desire of
wealth and revenge to urge me on to that, which, under any
circumstances, would have been by no means disagreeable. To make a long
story short, I called upon her at stated periods; and, within a year
from our first acquaintance, we were plighted to each other. About this
time my father, together with some influential friends, procured me a
lieutenancy, to serve in our present struggle for the maintainance of
that glorious independence, drawn up by the immortal Jefferson, and
signed by the noble patriots some two years before. I served a two
years' campaign, and fought in the unfortunate and bloody battle of
Camden; which resulted, as doubtless you have heard, in great loss and
defeat to the American arms. Shortly after the action commenced, our
captain was killed, and the command of the company devolved on me. I
fulfilled my duties to the best of my ability, and myself and men were
in the hottest of the fight. But from some alleged misdemeanor, whereof
I can take my oath I was guiltless, I was afterward very severely
censured by one of my superior officers; which so wounded my feelings,
that I at once resigned my commission and returned to my native state.
"On arriving at home, to my surprise and mortification, I learned that
my intended was just on the eve of marriage with a cousin of mine--a
worthless fellow--who, urged on by the relatives interested, and his own
desire of acquiring the handsome competence of twenty thousand dollars,
had taken advantage of my absence to calumniate me, (in which design he
had been aided by several worthy assistants) and supplant me in the good
graces--I will not say affections, as I think the term too strong--of
Elvira Longworth.
"The lady in question I do not think I ever loved--at least as I
understand the meaning of that term--and now--that she had listened to
slander against me while absent, and, without waiting to know whether it
would be refuted on my return, had engaged herself to another--I cared
less for her than before;--but my pride was touched, that I should be
thus tamely set aside for one I heartily despised; and this, together
with my desire to thwart the machinations of the whole intriguing clique
arrayed against me, determined me, if feasible, to regain the favor of
Elvira, and have the ceremony performed as soon as possible. This, Ella,
I know you think, and I am ready to admit it, was wrong--very wrong;
but I make no pretensions to be other than a frail mortal, liable to all
the errors appertaining thereto; and were this is the only sin to be
laid to my charge, my conscience were far less troublesome than now.
"I determined, I say, to regain my former place in her favor or
affection--whichever you like--and, to be brief, I apparently succeeded.
The day was set for our marriage; which, for several reasons unnecessary
to be detailed, was to take place at the residence of my father; and, as
the will specified it should be with all due rejoicings, great
preparations were accordingly made, and a goodly number of guests
invited.
"At length the day came--the eventful day. Never shall I forget it; nor
with what feelings, at the appointed hour, I entered the crowded hall,
where the ceremony was to take place, with Elvira leaning tremblingly on
my arm, her features devoid of all color, and approached the spot where
the divine stood ready to unite us forever. All eyes were now fixed upon
us; and the marriage rite was begun amid that deep and almost awful
solemnity, which not unfrequently characterizes such proceedings on
peculiar occasions, when every spectator, as well as the actors
themselves, feel a secret awe steal over them, as though about to
witness a tragic, rather than a civil, performance.
"I have mentioned that Elvira trembled violently when we entered the
hall; but this trembling increased after the divine commenced the
ritual; so that when I had answered in the affirmative the solemn
question pertaining to my taking the being by my side as mine till
death, her trepidation had become so great that it was with difficulty I
could support her; and when the same interrogative was put to her, a
silence of some moments followed; and then the answer came forth, low
and trembling, but still sufficiently distinct to be generally
understood; and was, to the unbounded astonishment of all, in the
negative!"
"In the negative!" exclaimed Ella, suddenly, who had during the last few
sentences been unconsciously leaning forward, as though to devour each
syllable as it was uttered, and who now resumed her former position with
a long drawn breath. "In the negative say you, Alger--a--a--Mr.
Reynolds?"
"Call me Algernon, Ella, I pray you; it sounds more sweet and friendly.
Ay, she answered in the negative. Heavens! what a shock was there for
my proud nature! To be thus publicly insulted and rejected--to be thus
made the butt and ridicule of fools and knaves--a mark for the jests and
sneers of friend and foe! Oh! how my blood boiled and coursed in lava
streams through my heated veins! I saw it all. I was the dupe of some
artful design, intended to stigmatize me forever; and wild with a
thousand terrible brain-searing thoughts, I rushed from the hall to my
own apartment, seized upon my pistols, and was just in the act of
putting a period to my existence, when my arm was suddenly grasped, and
my hated rival and cousin stood before me.
"'Fiend!' cried I in frenzy; 'devil in human shape!--do you seek me in
the body? What want you here?'
"His features were pale with excitement, and his lips quivered as he
made answer: 'Be calm, Algernon, be calm; it was meant but in jest!'
"'Jest!' screamed I; 'do you then own to a knowledge of it,
villain?--were you its author?--then take that, and answer it as you
dare!'--and as I spoke, with the breech of my undischarged pistol, I
stretched him senseless at my feet. Under the excitement of the moment,
I was about to take a more terrible revenge; when others suddenly rushed
in--seized and disarmed me--bore my rival from my sight--and, to
conclude, placed me in bed, where I was confined for three weeks by a
delirious fever, and then only recovered as it were by a miracle.
"During my convalescence, I learned that my cousin, soon after my
return, had been privately married to Elvira; and prompted by his evil
genius, and some of my enemies, had induced his wife to enter into the
plot, the result of which has already been briefly narrated. I do not
think she did it through malice, and doubtless little thought of the
consequences that were destined to follow; but whether so or not, her
punishment has, I think, been fully adequate to her crime; for the last
I heard of her, she was an inmate of a mad-house--remorse for her
conduct, the abuse heaped upon her by society, and her own severe fright
at the termination of the stratagem, having driven her insane. Now comes
the most tragic part of my narrative.
"When so far recovered as to again be abroad, I was cautioned by my
parents against my rash act; and for their sakes, I promised to be
temperate in all my movements; but, alas! how little we know when we
promise, what we may be in sooth destined to perform. On my father's
estate, about a mile distant from his residence, was a beautiful
grove--whither, for recreation, I was in the habit of repairing at all
periods of my life; and where, so soon as my strength permitted, after
my sickness, I rambled daily. About ten days from my recovery, as I was
taking my usual stroll through these grounds, I was suddenly confronted
by my cousin. His cheeks were hollow and pale, and his whole appearance
haggard in the extreme. His eyes, too, seemed to flash, or burn, as it
were, with an unearthly brightness; and his voice, as he addressed me,
was hoarse, and his manner hurried.
"'We meet well,' he said, 'well! I have watched for you long.'
"'Away!' cried I; 'tempt me no more--or something will follow I may
regret hereafter!'
"'Ha, ha, ha!' laughed he, in derision, with that peculiar, hollow
sound, which even now, as I recall it, makes my blood run cold:--'Say
you so, cousin?--I came for that;' and again he laughed as before. 'See
here--see here!' and he presented, as he spoke, with the butts toward
me, a brace of pistols. 'Here is what will settle all our animosities,'
he continued; 'take your choice, and be quick, or perchance we may be
interrupted.'
"'Are you mad,' cried I, 'that you thus seek my life, after the wrongs
you have done me?'
"'Mad!--ha, ha!--yes!--yes!--I believe I am,' he answered; 'and my wife
is mad also. I did you wrong, I know--went to apologise for it, and you
struck me down. Whatever the offence, a blow I never did and never will
forgive; so take your choice, and be quick, for one or both of us must
never quit this place alive.'
"'Away!' cried I, turning aside; 'I will not stain my hands with the
blood of my kin. Go! the world is large enough to hold us both.'
"'Coward!' hissed he; 'take that, then, and bear what I have borne;' and
with the palm of his hand he smote me on the cheek.
"I could bear no more--I was no longer myself--I was maddened with
passion--and snatching a pistol from his hand, which was still extended
toward me, without scarcely knowing what I did, I exclaimed, 'Your blood
be on your own head!'--and--and--Oh, Heaven!--pardon me, Ella--I--shot
him through the body."
Ella, who had partly risen from her seat, and was listening with
breathless attention, now uttered an exclamation of horror, and sunk
back, with features ghastly pale; while the other, burying his face in
his hands, shook his whole frame with convulsive sobs. For some time
neither spoke; and then the young man, slowly raising his face, which
was now a sad spectacle of the workings of grief and remorse, again
proceeded:
"Horror-stricken--aghast at what I had done--I stood for a moment,
gazing upon him weltering in his blood, with eyes that burned and seemed
starting from their sockets--with feelings that are indescribable--and
then rushing to him, I endeavored to raise him, and learn the extent of
his injury.
"'Fly!' said he, faintly, as I bent over him--'fly for your life! I have
got my due--I am mortally wounded--and if you remain, you will surely be
arrested as my murderer. Farewell, Algernon--the fault was mine--but
this you can not prove; and so leave me--leave me while you have
opportunity.'
"His words were true; I felt them in force; if he died, I would be
arraigned as his murderer--I had no proof to the contrary--circumstances
would be against me--I should be imprisoned--condemned--perhaps
executed--a loathsome sight for gaping thousands--I could not bear the
thought--I might escape--ay, would escape--and bidding him a hasty
farewell, I turned and fled. Not a hundred rods distant I met my father;
and falling on my knees before him, I hurriedly related what had taken
place, and begged advice for myself, and his immediate attendance upon
my cousin. He turned pale and trembled violently at my narration; and,
as I concluded, drew forth a purse of gold, which he chanced to have
with him, and placing it in my hand, exclaimed:
"'Fly--son--child--Algernon--for Heaven's sake, fly!'
"'Whither, father?'
"'To the far western wilds, beyond the reach of civilization--at least
beyond the reach of justice--and spare my old eyes the awful sight of
seeing a beloved son arraigned as a criminal!'
"'And my mother?'
"'You can not see her--it might cost you your life,--farewell!' and with
the last word trembling on his lips, he embraced me fondly, and we
parted--perchance forever.
"I fled, feeling that the brand of Cain was on me; that henceforth my
life was to be one of remorse and misery; that I was to be a wanderer
upon the face of the earth--mayhap an Ishmael, with every man's hand
against me. To atone in a measure to my conscience for the awful deed I
had committed, I knelt upon the earth, and swore, by all I held sacred
in time and eternity, that if the wound inflicted upon my cousin should
prove mortal, I would live a life of celibacy, and become a wandering
pilgrim in the western wilds of America till God should see proper to
call me hence."
"And--and did the wound prove mortal?" asked Ella, breathlessly.
"Alas! I know not, Ella, and I fear to know. Four months have passed
since then; and after many adventures, hardships, sufferings, and
hair-breadth escapes, you see me here before you, a miserable man."
"But not one guilty of murder, Algernon," said Ella, energetically.
"I know not that--Heaven grant it true!"
"O, then, do not despair, Algernon!--trust in God, and hope for the
best. I have a hope that all will yet be well."
"Amen to that, dear Ella; and a thousand, thousand thanks, for your
sweet words of consolation; they are as balm to my torn and bleeding
heart; but until I _know_ my fate, we must not meet again; and if, oh
Heaven! and if the worst be true--then--then farewell forever! But who
comes here?"