Everything except poetry is pleasant when improvised; and our dinner
that day was an example. In less than a quarter of an hour we had on
the table excellent cold ham and roast fowls, eggs in a variety of
forms, and several bottles of good wine. Fried chickens followed; and
though the rain now poured down in torrents such as I have never seen
elsewhere,--no, not in the far East; though the thunder roared and the
lightning blazed, some times in three or four streaks at once, we were
as gay a party as ever gathered round a social board. Bessy Davenport
had recovered her spirits; Louisa Thornton seemed resolved to laugh
the thunder down; Mr. Hubbard was full of quaint humour, and only now
and then expressed a hope that "it would not end in a drizzle," as he
must positively be at home before dark; and even Mrs. Thornton, though
she now and then put her hands before her eyes, when the lightning was
very vivid, congratulated herself at having a house over her head
during the storm, and evidently felt the sort of comfort which is most
forcibly brought home to us when we distinctly see the perils or
discomforts from which we are sheltered for the time.
Gradually the thunder abated; its roaring voice grew fainter, and
followed not so close upon the blaze; but the rain still pattered
down, making a sort of rushing sound upon the gravel before the house,
when, suddenly, young Harry Thornton started up, exclaiming,--
"Hark! They are bringing up the carriage, I think."
"Nonsense!" said Mr. Thornton, keeping his seat. "That cannot be, my
son."
But by this time both Harry and bold Billy Byles were at the windows;
and the next instant the latter exclaimed, thrown out of all softer
sayings by his surprise,--
"By jingo! here is Mr. Stringer and all his family, with two
carriages, eight horses, and an ox team. I should not wonder if there
was a freshet down at the bridge."
Mr. Thornton did look a little abashed at being caught revelling in
another man's house during his absence, and that a northern man too;
but he recovered himself in a moment, saying--"Keep your seats, ladies
and gentlemen, keep your seats. I will warrant your welcome, and we
have not yet begun our strawberries and cream."
His exhortations were vain, however, upon the greater part those
present; and finding that he could not restore order to the feast, Mr.
Thornton rose with the rest; but, instead of going to witness the
debarkation of Mr. Stringer's family from the window, he sought an
umbrella and went down the steps to hand Mrs. Stringer out of the
carriage.
What passed between him and the master of the house I did not hear;
but I saw the latter laugh and shake him by the hand; and, a moment
after, he re-entered the dining-room, having on his arm a lady about
three-and-thirty years of age, who looked scared and somewhat aghast,
but, I think, rather from the effects of storm through which she had
passed than from the scene presented by her own dining-room, for the
sight of which she had probably been prepared as she came from the
carriage to the house.
Three young boys, from seven to ten years of age, followed close upon
their mother's steps; and at last, after a short pause, appeared Mr.
Stringer, in whom, now without his hat, I instantly recognized a
gentleman whom I had met at dinner in New York.
"Farewell to my incognito!" I thought; but Mr. Stringer's first
attention was paid to Mrs. Thornton, and then to Miss Davenport, who
seemed an especial favourite both with himself and his wife; and I had
time to remark, ere he noticed me, a singular-looking man by whom Mr.
Stringer was followed. He could not have measured less than six feet
two inches in height, while, from shoulder to shoulder, I do not think
the extent was more than a foot. His whole frame was about an equal
width; only his legs, pack them together how you would, must still
have remained more bulky than his body. His arms were thin, and his
hands long and bony; but his face, though exceedingly ugly, and not
improved by the ill-cut, long sandy hair which thatched his head, or
the rawish white skin that covered it, was highly intelligent, with a
quick, eager, grey eye, which ran over every thing and every person in
the room in a moment.
The dress of this apparition was of no particular date, and had
nothing very remarkable in form. I only remarked that it was all of
black, not very new, and that the white cravat rolled round his neck
and tied in a bow, with two little ends like a young pig's ears, might
have been whiter and, perhaps, cleaner.
While I was making my mental observations upon this gentleman, who
still stood near the door without saying a word to any one, Mr.
Stringer's eyes turned upon me, and the expected explosion took place.
"Why, Sir Richard Conway!" he exclaimed, "this is an unexpected
pleasure. Nevertheless, welcome to Virginia, and especially to my
house. My dear, allow me to introduce Sir Richard Conway."
While my introduction to Mrs. Stringer was taking place, I know not
what bursts of surprise and wonder were going on amongst the rest of
the party. All I do know is, that Bessy Davenport was laughing
heartily, and feeling, I fancy, a little conceited at being the only
one who had discovered my secret. Mrs. Stringer was peculiarly civil
and condescending; and I do believe, if I had been a _real live_
lord,--a thing less frequently found in this country than mammoths and
mastodons,--she could not have been more gratified to find me in her
house.
In the meantime, the rain continued to pour down without showing the
slightest disposition to restrain itself; and the party from the
carriage gave us a fearful account of the ravages committed by the
freshet, which had carried away the bridge, as Mr. Byles had
suspected.
The wine on the table, the strawberries and cream, and the remnants of
the dinner of which we had partaken, however, proved a very
serviceable refreshment to Mr. Stringer and his battered party; so
that our intrusion was rather a benefit than otherwise to the worthy
gentleman, whose letter, announcing his proximate arrival, had, it
seemed,--with a facility for getting lost nowhere more common to
letters than in Virginia,--tarried by the way till its writer got the
start of it.
Mrs. Stringer indeed was a little fidgety about well-aired beds and
sundry household arrangements; nevertheless, we all made ourselves
very comfortable for the next hour, while waiting for the rain to pass
away.
As, however, it remained obdurate, Mr. Thornton rose to depart; and
then commenced, on the part of our host, very pressing entreaties that
we would all remain the night; and an exceedingly well-devised plan
for accommodating so large a party, was explained to us by Mrs.
Stringer on the spur of the moment. Mr. Thornton, however, declared he
was obliged to return home; his wife was equally resolute, as well as
all those who had come in the carriage; whilst those who had travelled
on horseback declared to a man they did not mind a little rain.
Our host and hostess were particularly pressing that at least Miss
Davenport and myself would stay; and Mrs. Stringer reminded Bessy that
she had extracted a promise of a long visit from her. Bessy, however,
was determined to go; and go we did, in as unpleasant an afternoon as
ever I remember. It was the will of God, however, that we should not
go far. As to galloping, that was out of the question; for the rain
had sunk into the earth, and the horses' hoofs were buried in mud at
every step. Mrs. Thornton insisted upon taking her daughter into the
carriage, and leaving the horse to be led by one of the negro boys.
Billy Byles, deprived of his companion, set off across the country as
fast as the state of the fields would permit. Mr. Thornton and his son
affectionately hung about the coach, which was in danger of being
overturned more than once; and, at length, the former suggested to his
niece, that she and I should ride on, by a narrow road (which he
designated, and with which she seemed well acquainted), both in order
to get out of the rain as soon as possible, and to send some oxen from
the plantation, to drag the carriage through the ford.
Away we went, then, laughing and jesting; for all Bessy's light
spirits had returned, and the rain seemed only to have brought them
into flower; but the road was abominably bad, and our progress
necessarily slow. The way lay principally through the woods, and every
here and there we came upon a drier spot where we could have a canter;
till, at length, I perceived, by my old topographic habits, that we
must be approaching a little river or stream, which we had passed in
the morning. Suddenly we came upon it; but Bessy pulled up her horse
for a moment; and certainly the scene before us was not of a character
to invite further advance. The banks were very steep, and the descent
of the road to the edge of the water nearly precipitous. Beyond flowed
the stream which a few hours previously had rolled on clear enough,
but with hardly sufficient water in it to cover a horse's fetlocks.
Now it rushed along between its deep banks, a turbid, rapid torrent.
It must have risen five or six feet during those few hours; and
although the surface was still tolerably smooth, owing to the want of
rocks or other obstructions of that kind, every here and there was a
whirling eddy,--a dimple, as it were, in the face of the stream, which
showed with what force and rapidity it was going.
"This is not agreeable," said Bessy Davenport; "the river seems
resolved to bar our way; but let us try, at all events."
And she began to descend towards the brink.
"It is madness to attempt it," I exclaimed: "no horse can swim that
current, Miss Davenport. For heaven's sake, stop."
But Bessy could no longer stop.
The ground was of a reddish clay, now thoroughly soaked with the rain;
the descent some thirty feet, and, as I have said, precipitous; and
though, when she tried to check him, her poor pony made an attempt to
resist the impetus his first start had given him, by throwing himself
on his haunches, his feet slipped in the mire; and down he slid with
increasing rapidity to the very brink of the water.
There he made one more violent effort to stop himself; but it was
worse than in vain. A part of the bank gave way under him; and over he
rolled with his mistress into the river.
There are times when all thought abandons us, and when instinct--a
much surer guide--comes to our aid. But instinct has no memories; and
I only know what I did by the result.
I must have sprung from my horse, dashed down the steep and slippery
bank, and plunged into the water, before I was aware of what I was
doing. It was the work of a moment. Still I had nearly been too late,
and should have been so, but for one slight accident. The stream had
risen so high that the branches of the trees and shrubs in many places
now dipped in the water; and one of them, catching Bessy Davenport's
riding-habit, kept her for an instant or two from being swept down the
stream. That brief interruption was long enough, however; for the
moment I got my eyes above the water, I saw something wavering about
near the bank, looking more like a mass of water-weed than a human
being. I struck at once towards the object, not doubting what it was;
and I remember, at the same moment, hearing a wild, shrill neigh, as
her horse raised his head above the current, and was swept past us.
I am a very strong swimmer; the tide aided; and in three strokes I was
by the poor girl's side. The moment after, her head and shoulders were
raised on my left arm; and, though at first she made an effort to
grasp me with her hands, yet, with admirable self-command, she
desisted as soon as I spoke; and I contrived to draw her to the bank
and catch hold of some of the shrubs.
The next three or four minutes--for really I know not how long it
was--proved more terrible than all that went before. They were only
like the struggles of some hideous dream. The tree I grasped gave way
under our weight, and rolled into the stream; but I caught another as
we were falling back,--along, stiff, snake-like vine-stem (they grow
here wild to the most enormous size), and it held firm. But the steep
and slippery bank afforded no footing, and back I slipped every time I
attempted to ascend.
I was nearly in despair; but despair sometimes lends energy and
suggests means. The only way was to use the vine-stem as a sort of
cable, and to pull myself up by it; but the difficulty was to do so
with one hand; for my left arm bore a burden I would not have parted
from but with life.
However, I dug my feet into the bank; and though, this time, I got
sufficient hold to support me, I knew that if I relaxed my grasp for
an instant, she and I must both fall back into the river. I almost
fancied at one time, indeed, it would be best to try the river again,
and see if I could not support her to some easier landing-place; but
before I did so, I turned and looked at her. Her eyes were open and
fixed upon my face.
"Can you hold the vine for a moment?" I said; "for a single moment,
till I run my hand further up?"
"I will try," she answered, and grasped the stem with both her hands.
By a violent effort, I reached over, and caught the frail thing that
supported us some two or three feet above, without relaxing my hold of
Bessy herself, and then drew her up, till her feet were completely
above the water.
"Now, if we can reach that old tree," I said, "round which this vine
has been twining, you are safe."
The greater danger was now indeed past; and what between her efforts
and mine,--though every step had its peril, and I feared each instant
that the vine-stem would give way under our repeated efforts to
ascend,--we at length reached the stump of the old tree, which was
still rooted firmly in the ground.
There I seated her, with her back against the trunk, and felt fully
repaid for all my day's work, when I parted the wet hair from her
beautiful forehead with my own hands, and twisted it up behind her
ears.
Bessy said nothing; but held down her head and wept; and I easily
understood that there was One to be thanked in silence, even before
myself.
I gave her time to recover herself a little; but as soon as she began
to look up again, I said, in a gay tone,--
"And now, my dear Bessy, I have got to carry you back to Beavors.
Thank Heaven, you are very light, and we are not likely to meet many
people; for you having lost your hat and I mine, and both having
acquired a remarkable portion of mud upon our garments, we are not the
most respectable-looking couple that ever journeyed through the world
together."
"For heaven's sake, do not jest at present, Richard," she answered.
"You men cannot feel these things as we women do. I do not believe I
shall ever jest again, when I think of the danger I have brought upon
myself, and into which I have drawn you. But where is your horse?
Mine, poor fellow, is drowned, of course. Poor Ned! I am very sorry
for him; but from the way in which he fell, he must be drowned."
"Very lucky for you he _did_ fall that way, my dear cousin," I
replied; "otherwise he would probably have struck you with his hoof,
and you would have been killed. Where my horse is, may be another
question. I left him at the top of the bank; for you were in such a
hurry, my dear girl, that there was no time to tie him up; and I had
much ado to catch you, as it was."
"He has gone home, I dare say," replied Bessy; "but perhaps you had
better see."
"First, I must carry you up to the road," replied I. But for a
time she would not consent, saying she could climb very well. Her
riding-habit, however, caught her at every step, and at length she was
obliged to let me do as I pleased, till I safely landed her upon the
road, within sight of the spot where our unfortunate adventure
commenced.
There stood the horse, almost precisely where I left him, though in a
very different attitude; his head was bent down, his neck and muzzle
stretched out almost in a straight line from his shoulders towards the
water, and his eyes fixed eagerly upon the current, as, red and
turbid, it rushed by. It seemed to me as if, with that strange sort of
intelligence which characterizes the dog, the horse, and the elephant,
he was waiting for our return, and watching eagerly to see us reappear
by the same way we went.
"Now," I said, "we can get back more easily; for I dare say, with your
country education, you can contrive to ride upon a somewhat unusual
saddle, and I will walk by your side to prevent your slipping off."
"I could ride him without any saddle at all," said Bessy, with a
smile.
The horse was soon caught, and she placed upon his back.
The clouds were now beginning to break; patches of blue were visible
here and there, and the rain had almost ceased. I could have wished,
indeed, that it had not turned fine quite so soon,--that it had
continued even to drizzle a little; for there was something strangely
out of harmony with our draggled and miserable appearance in the
bright sunshine which soon burst forth. It seemed to make us look more
ridiculous than ever. But it had one good effect; for it brought some
of the negroes out into the fields, and we had an opportunity of
sending some teams of oxen to assist Mr. Thornton and his party across
the ford, and to give him information of all that had occurred to us.
We coupled the tale, however, with the assurance that Miss Davenport
and myself were quite safe, and that all we wanted were dry clothes to
enable us to pass the night comfortably at Beavors.
When we reached that place, as misfortune would have it, the whole
family of Mr. Stringer, including the tall gaunt man in black, were
standing under the porch, gazing forth upon the country refreshed by
the shower; and every sort of exclamation of wonder and commiseration
burst forth upon us when we presented ourselves, wet, bedabbled with
mud, and with total loss of head-gear.
"Why, my pretty young lady," exclaimed Mr. Stringer, unable to refrain
from a smile, "I hardly knew you when I first saw you coming in such
an awkward condition."
"It is very lucky that you do see me at all," replied Bessy; "for if
it hadn't been for my cousin here, who nearly lost his life to save
mine, I should have been twenty miles down the Nansemond river by this
time."
"Come in, come in, my dear Bessy," said Mrs. Stringer, "and do not
stand talking in your wet clothes. You can tell us all about it
afterwards."
And with motherly care she took her fair young friend away into the
house; while Mr. Stringer himself conducted me to a room upstairs, and
offered me all the resources of his own wardrobe. As he was about five
inches shorter than myself, and at least two inches less in width
across the shoulders, the selection was somewhat difficult. I
contrived to get into a loose morning gown, however; and, with a happy
thought,--unhappily frustrated of effect,--Mr. Stringer sent a servant
to ask the loan of a pair of pantaloons from the Reverend Mr.
McGrubber, which I found was the name of his lanky friend in black. A
moment after, the negro returned, with a grin which showed his white
teeth from ear to ear, saying, "Massa McGrubber's compliments, but he
can't. Him's only got one pair, and them's on."
The laugh which followed, from Mr. Stringer and myself, did me fully
as much good as the glass of mulled wine which my worthy host insisted
upon my swallowing. As there was no other resource, I determined to go
to bed till my own clothes could be dried and cleansed, or till some
fresh apparel was brought over from the plantation of Mr. Thornton;
and what between a little fatigue, the sultry weather, and the mulled
wine, I fell sound asleep soon after Mr. Stringer left me, and began
dreaming of Bessy Davenport.