Modern Flirtations: A Novel

by Catherine Sinclair

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  The intellectual powers and literary acquirements of Henry de Lanceywere first-rate, and feeling a consciousness of ability, he ardentlylonged to coin them into fame and distinction. Full of highaspirations, there was something grand in the outline of his head, andin the expression of his speaking eyes, while animated by his desire torender himself worthy of Caroline, and to reward the care of Sir Arthurby his own exertions. He longed now to run the race of life withothers--to be useful among men--to win for himself a place insociety--to write his name perhaps in the records of time--but aboveall, to promote the cause of truth, religion, and holiness. He hadlearned in the society of Mr. Granville to believe that true happinessis not to be found in the temple of fame, nor in the temple of pleasureor of fortune, but in the temple of God; and at one time his thoughtsand studies were turned towards the church, with a fervent desire totake orders, till the tide of his plans became entirely changed by theunexpected arrival of a commission in the 15th Huzzars, then quarteredin Canada, which he felt bound, from whatever hand it came, to accept.

  Henry had been deeply affected when first told all the peculiarcircumstances of his own history, but Sir Arthur accustomed him fromthe first to discuss the subject confidentially, that everyrecollection might be preserved which he yet retained of those earlierdays, now involved in impenetrable mystery, which none but himself hadwitnessed, but the secret of which Sir Arthur still entertained asanguine hope of at last developing, while often, when gazing withalmost parental affection at his promising young _protege_, heprophesied that his unnatural connections would yet be forced orpersuaded to acknowledge him.

  Though lines of deep thought were already riveted on the youthfulcountenance of Henry, yet his manner became full of life and animation;and in personal courage he was the boldest of the bold, displaying afearless energy of character, which caused the Admiral to express, onthe night when they were about to part, a confident hope that, thoughthe service of his country had not been his choice, yet he was wellsuited to his profession, and his profession to him.

  "Let me only become another Sir Arthur Dunbar, and my utmost ambitionwill be gratified!" exclaimed Henry, warmly clasping the hand of hisbenefactor. "Often--oh, how often! I shall look back upon the onlyhome, and the best friend I have ever known!"

  They were to meet no more, as young De Lancey had engaged his place inthe earliest coach next morning, and Marion saw, by the paleness of hischeek, and the compression of his lip, that though for worlds he wouldnot have compromised his manhood by weeping, yet, moved as much by SirArthur's evident grief as by his own, he had the utmost difficulty insuppressing a burst of tears.

  The aged Admiral grasped his young friend's hand in silence, andleaning for some moments on his arm, he walked up and down the roomwith heavy measured steps, his eyes cast down, his noble foreheadclouded with care, and his brows knit as in deep and painful thought.He too seemed to dread the greatness of his own agitation, being littlefitted now to bear any, yet it seemed to Marion as if a tear had forcedits way into his glazed and nearly blinded eyes, though carefullyscreening it from observation, and evidently unwilling or unable to saya word. After several minutes had elapsed, Henry broke the longsilence, exclaiming, in a low, tremulous tone of incoherent agitation,

  "Before my voice fails, Sir Arthur, I must speak!--I must saysomething, to tell you what I feel----"

  "No! no! my dear boy! I know it all! I will believe more than you say,but spare yourself and me," interrupted Sir Arthur, in a tone of calmand serious affection. "We know each other, Henry."

  "But once--only once let me say all that has been treasured in my heartfor years! Can I leave the happiest home which ever blessed a son withhis father, and not remember that but for you I should have been afriendless outcast! Every act of kindness you have shown me, everysmile of regard, every token of confidence, crowds upon my memory now,and increases the store of obligations which it is my pride and myhappiness to owe you. If you could but read my heart, Sir Arthur, Ineed not speak; for there you would see love without bounds, andgratitude which it shall ever be my delight to cherish! If I am betterthan the brutes that perish, you are, under Providence, the cause; andI shall be worse than the worst of them, if I ever for one houroverlook what I owe to you, or forget the principles of honor, duty,truth, and piety that you have taught me."

  Henry paused in speechless emotion, he clenched his hands together, theyouthful fire of his eye became dimmed, and he hurried to the windowfor several moments, where, having in some measure recovered hiscomposure, he turned round, and saw, for the first time in his life,tears rolling down the face of Sir Arthur--the tears of a good andvenerable man, of all sights upon earth the most affecting; andovercome with emotion, Henry took his benefactor's hand in his own,with an expression of the deepest solemnity and respect, saying, inrapid but tremulous accents,

  "It might soothe the very bed of death, for you, Sir Arthur, toremember what you have done for me!--more than almost any man can everdo for another. The first of earthly blessings is to be loved; and yet,but from your kindness to me from childhood, no eye would ever havesaddened at my departure, nor brightened at my return! With not afriend upon the visible earth but yourself, the child perhaps of shameand misery, I must have become lost indeed! The thought of this will benearest my heart when it ceases to beat! If I perish abroad--or if--ifwe meet no more on earth, take all I can offer, Sir Arthur, my ferventprayers that you may be rewarded."

  Sir Arthur mournfully held out his hand to Henry, who kneeled down andkissed it with the profoundest reverence; then starting hastily up, heseemed about to rush out of the room, when he was arrested by the deep,solemn voice of the Admiral, whose eye had now become calm and steady,while in a low and impressive voice he said,

  "It is true, Henry, we shall probably meet no more! I know, and so mustyou, that this is our last interview on earth; but long after I am atrest in the grave, may you remember, and may you deserve the ferventblessing I now give you, trusting that both my children, yourself andMarion, may hereafter enjoy as bright a destiny as any child of earthcan know in this suffering and sin-blighted world. In speaking of thepast, Henry, do not suppose that the obligation is all on your side!No! your dutiful affection has more than re-paid me. It is something toknow that my aged years have not been spent in vain--that I leave arecord in your heart, where my name will be respectfully andaffectionately remembered! No man living can endure the thought ofbeing utterly forgotten; and to you, my young friends, I commit mymemory. The earth will lie lighter on my grave for the belief, that youhave loved me so well, and will so truly lament me. Your young spiritshave cheered my heart--your welfare has deeply interested me; and Iknow that one day or other, my young soldier will do me honor in hisprofession, and not forget to shed a tear over my remains."

  Many were the tears of both Henry and Marion at these words; but SirArthur calmly continued in a firmer voice,

  "When I called you back, my dear Henry, it was not for any vain attemptto express my feelings,--that would be impossible,--but to mention how,in all probability, you may one day be able more than to return thelittle I have done. It is easy for men to wrestle through thedifficulties of life, and with such talent and enter-enterprise asyours, to conquer them all. For other reasons, too, I have no doubt ofyour at last being most happily settled for life, but many anxiousthoughts beset me respecting Marion. The uncertainty of RichardGranville's prospects, and the certainty that my nephew will refuse hisconsent to her marriage, weighs heavily at my heart. I do trust that along life of happiness awaits you both; but if my worst anticipationswere ever to be realised--if your brother, Marion, a bankrupt alreadyin fortune and character, were hereafter to desert you--if your sister,heartless and vain, should throw herself away, and leave you in bleakand sorrowful loneliness,--then remember, Henry, my solemn and lastinjunction is laid upon you, to act as a brother towards Marion,--muchmay then be in your power--more than you now expect--and you must thenprotect her, as I would have done
myself, considering all that you mayever do for her, as done for me."

  "It would be something to live for, if I had a hope of being useful toMarion, Sir Arthur! Under any circumstances that would have been apleasure; but now it has become ten times more a sacred duty than ever.Your injunction shall remain with me till my dying hour!"

  In the solitude and silence of his own apartment, Henry gave ample ventto his long-suppressed anguish, while mourning over the sad conviction,that he had now seen, probably for the last time, that generous andnoble-hearted benefactor, whom he loved with an enthusiasm to which nowords could do justice. Though every action of his life had beenactuated by grateful attachment, he now felt as if his existence hadbeen wasted without sufficiently testifying his ardent affection, andhe wondered to think that any opportunities were ever formerlyoverlooked, of conversing with Sir Arthur, and attending on him. Henrythought of his growing infirmities, of his solitary home, of his highspirit, and of his resolute mind, now enervated by advancing years, andmourned to think that in sickness, or even at the hour of death, hehimself must no longer be at hand, to console and support hisbenefactor.

  Exhausted nature at length needed repose, and amidst the stillness anddarkness of a night which had already seemed interminable, Henry felthimself slowly sinking into the calmness of slumber, when suddenly hewas awakened to consciousness by a slight rustling sound from besidehis bed, and the noise of some one breathing, as if trying in vain tosuppress it. Uncertain what this might be, he opened his eyes, and layperfectly immoveable; but gradually his heart almost ceased to beat,and quailed with a feeling of supernatural apprehension, when thecurtains were slowly opened, and a dark form cautiously stooping overhim, gazed into his face, till he felt the warm breath upon his cheek.

  In the dead hour of the night, Marion was startled out of a dull,heavy, unrefreshing sleep, by a sharp shrill cry for help, which seemedto proceed from Henry's room, and was succeeded by stifled cries, andthe sound of a violent scuffle. Springing out of bed with aninstantaneous decision, Marion flew towards the spot, calling loudlyfor assistance, and the instant she opened the door, some one, utteringa wild and fearful shriek, rushed violently out, striking her whatseemed at the moment a severe blow on the arm, but an instantafterwards she became deluged with blood.

  Henry was in the act of eagerly pursuing the rapidly receding figure,when, seeing Marion stagger backwards, he caught her in his arms,supported her to a chair, and hastily bound up her wound, which wasbleeding profusely.

  "Leave me! I am well! Look to my uncle," cried she, eagerly. "He musthave been alarmed! How was it, Henry? Are you hurt? Is Sir Arthur safe?Oh! there he is!" exclaimed she, rushing into her uncle's arms, andbursting into tears.

  "Here is Mr. Howard too!" added Henry, turning round, as that gentlemanentered with a calm but rather anxious look, while the paleness of hischeek was almost startling. "You seem, Sir, to have dropped readydressed from the clouds!"

  "I seldom retire early to bed," replied he, with a quick, sharp,scrutinizing glance at Henry. "Hearing a tumult in the house, I--I----"

  "You gave it time to subside before attempting to interfere," addedHenry, with a thrilling emphasis in his voice, while closely observingMr. Howard's countenance. "There is a strange and fearful mysteryhere!"

  "There is!" replied he, gnawing his nails to the very quick, while heshot a momentary glance of rancorous detestation at young De Lancey,after which, his features became as passionless and immoveable as ifthey had been fixed in a vice. "The whole affair is mysterious--very----"

  "What! you already know all!"

  "I do!--I--I met the man rushing out of the house," answered Mr.Howard, with the air of one outfacing an accusation, but his voicebecame low and suffocated. "I attempted to stop him, but----"

  "I am glad you did!" observed Sir Arthur, looking anxiously at Henry,and then gazing intently on the sallow countenance of Mr. Howard, whichbecame gradually dyed with the deepest hectic; his lips were nowclosely compressed, he raised his tall figure to its full height, andclosed his eyes, as if wishing thus to exclude some fearful spectrefrom his mind, but after a momentary struggle, he became once more calmand resolute, with a singular serenity of look and manner.

  "You met some one in the passage! The assassin must have escaped longbefore!" muttered Henry, in a vague and dreaming tone; but his browgrew darker, and there was an anxious intensity in his look and voice,when he added in a tone of resolute determination, "Let me be plainwith you, Mr. Howard! Your expression of countenance when I saw youlast night, filled me with astonishment--almost with apprehension; itwas a look never to be forgotten! Your manner now perplexes me! Thereis something amiss which I cannot understand, but for your sake as wellas my own, this very strange affair must be fully investigated!"

  "You suspect me!" exclaimed Mr. Howard, with a sudden laugh of terriblemirth, and in a voice elevated into accents of indescribable fury,while his eye throwing off the torpor in which it had been shrouded,glittered with the fearful brightness of delirium, his veins becameswollen, and his figure dilated beyond its ordinary height, assuming anaspect of rage and of almost supernatural strength, such as insanityalone can give. "You suspect me, and you have dared to confess it. Manya word lightly spoken carries weight. The arrow has been shot atrandom, but you are right. Lightning rushes through my brain! I wouldbe destructive as a whirlwind to you, De Lancey, as I once was to yourwretched mother. She stood in the way of my advancement, as you may yetdo,--she accused, betrayed, and ruined my sister," continued he in arapid voice, insupportably shrill and piercing. "You too have injuredme, and you shall suffer for it as she did--she died!"

  With the spring and the strength of a tiger, he rushed toward Henry,and a knife which he had plucked from his sleeve, gleamed likelightning in the air, when suddenly Sir Arthur placed himself so as tointercept the madman's career, and fixed upon him his commanding eye,with a look of calm, stern, and lofty composure, while Henry vainlystrove to advance before him, and Marion, with frantic vehemence,called for help.

  "Take my life, if you must have blood. I have trusted you,Howard,--shown you kindness when no other hand was stretched out incompassion, and through my heart only shall you reach that boy!" saidSir Arthur, firmly. "I am old, and ready to die, but he is a son to me,and shall not perish in my sight."

  "Your life! no! not yours," replied the maniac, in accents of vehementhorror, yet still fastening his glaring eyes on Henry, with looks ofdeadly malignity. "May my hand wither before it injures one hair ofyour venerable head! May my life be sacrificed first, and my limbs bemanacled in chains! But for him, his days shall be few! He bears acharmed life, or he must have died long ago! I would extinguish allmankind!--the whole human race, if I could; but there are two whom Ihave sworn to destroy, and he is one! I have said it! The will and thepower are mine! I cannot fail! His life shall be hunted by night and byday! This knife shall be plunged to the very hilt in his blood! I havesaid it. One blow--one mortal blow, and it is done!"

  Having said these words, with gestures of outrageous madness, hebounded towards the door, broke through every impediment with astrength which ten men could scarcely have mastered, and giving a louddelirious cry of insufferable wildness, he instantaneously vanished.

  Before long, the neighborhood was aroused, lights gleamed and reddenedin the opposite windows, shouts arose among the assembling crowd, and arapid search was made for the frantic and mysterious criminal, but nota trace of any living being could be discovered, and when they pausedto listen, not a sound broke the stillness of the night.

  "This is my second preservation from a violent death!" said Henry, inonce more taking leave of Sir Arthur. "And most forcibly do all thesecircumstances bring to mind the horrors of that fearful night whichfirst threw me on the care of my benefactor. It is exactly such ashadowy form bending over me in the silence of midnight, which hasoften from that hour haunted me in my dreams. I am ready, I trust, tobrave any danger in the open face of day; but there is somethingterrible to me, I confes
s--something vague and appalling in thestealthy, mysterious, death-like approach of an enemy evidently insane,who has pursued me with remorseless hatred from childhood to thepresent hour, breaking upon me in the darkest hours of midnight, andinvading me amidst the moments of helpless repose; but I am under thecare of one who slumbereth not, nor sleepeth, and to Him I confidentlycommit myself."