CHAPTER XXXV.
The great apothecary's shop of Human Vanity is filled with "flatteringunctions;" and there is not a sore spot upon the heart or mind of man,which cannot there find its unguent--whether the disease proceed froma self-generated canker, or from a blow inflicted by others. Thegreatest, the wisest, the healthiest, the soundest-minded of mankindhave all occasion to apply to this shop; and they do so now and then,under the sores of regret, and failure, and disappointment, or thewounds of superciliousness, forgetfulness, or neglect. Oh,
"The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes,"
how often do they drive the iron into the flesh which requires thatapothecary's shop to heal it!
Yet, let us not look too curiously into the motives which induced Mr.Prevost, after some hesitation and some reluctance, to accept theappointment offered to him by the government through Lord H----. Itwas pleasing to him to think that his merits, and the services ofwhich he was conscious--though, be it said, not too conscious--hadonly been so long overlooked, not from being unapparent or forgotten,but because, in some of his views, he had differed from the ministerslately dismissed. He knew not--or, at least, he did not recollect--howeasy it is to forget when one is not willing to remember; how rarelyqualities are brought before the public gaze, except by interest,accident, or position--unless by impudence, arrogance, andself-sufficiency. One in ten thousand men of those who rise, rise bymerit alone; though there must be some merit in almost all who rise.But the really great are like fixed stars; few of the greatest areever near the eye; one requires a telescope to see them, and thattelescope is Time.
Putting aside military chiefs, who write their names in fire, many ofthe greatest men of all ages have been overlooked by Fame. The authorof Job is unknown; the builders of almost all great buildings ofantiquity are nameless: the sculptor of the one Venus, and the oneApollo--doubtful, doubtful--never recorded in history. Then look atthe fate of others. Behold Friar Bacon and Galileo, in their dungeons;Dante proscribed and banished; Shakspeare, a mere yeoman at Stratford;Homer and Milton, blind and poor; Virgil, Petrarch, Verulam, theflatterers of a court; Newton, the Master of the Mint! Heaven andearth! what a catalogue of black spots upon the great leopard! Tohardly one of them did contemporary fame ascribe a place pre-eminent.Why, it is a salve and a comfort to every fool and every driveller. Nospawner of a penny pamphlet--with vanity enough--can be sure that heis not twin brother to the blind beggar of Greece.
But Mr. Prevost forgot all this. He was conscious of having labouredwell and diligently in what he believed, the right path: there was inhim a sense and an experience of intellectual power: he had felt,and had exercised, the capability of guiding and directing othersaright; and, more than all, he had seen many a time the schemeswhich he had devised, the words which he had written or spoken,adopted--appropriated--filched--by others, and lauded, making the fameand the fortune of a weak, impudent, lucky charlatan, supported byinterest, family, or circumstances, while the real author wasforgotten, and would have been hooted had he claimed his own. Thisgave him some confidence in himself, independent of vanity; and be itnot for us to assay the metal too closely.
He accepted the office tendered, and at once set about preparing forits duties. There was but one impediment--his anxiety for his son;for, notwithstanding every assurance, he felt that quivering doubt andfear which can only be felt by a parent when a beloved child's fate isin the balance--which all parents worthy of the name have felt, and nochild can comprehend.
When Edith rose, on the day following the visit of poor CaptainBrooks--somewhat later than was her custom (for the first half of thewatches of the night had known no comforter)--Woodchuck was gone. Hehad waited for no leave-taking, and was on his road towards themountains before the dawn of day.
It was better for all, indeed, that he should go; and he felt it: notthat there was any chance of his resolution being shaken; but, as hehad himself said, he wished to forget that resolution as far aspossible--to think no more of his coming fate than the darkremembrance of it within his own heart forced him to think; and thepresence of Mr. Prevost and his daughter--the very absence ofWalter from their fireside--would have reminded him constantly of therock on which his bark was inevitably steering. With Mr. Prevost andEdith, his presence would have had the effect of keeping up theanxious struggle between affection for Walter and a kindly sense ofjustice towards him. His every look, his every word, would have beena source of painful interest; and the terrible balancing of verynarrowly-divided equities, when life was in the scale, and affectionheld the beam, would have gone on, in the mind at least, continually.
When he was gone, the agitating feelings gradually subsided. Hisself-sacrifice presented itself to the mind as a thing decided: themind was relieved from a greater apprehension by a less; and a quietmelancholy, whenever his coming fate was thought of, took the place ofanxious alarm. In some sort, the present and the past seemed totranspose themselves; and they almost looked upon him as already dead.
True, all fear in regard to Walter was not completely banished. Therewas nothing definite; there was no tangible object of apprehension;they felt perfectly certain that Woodchuck would execute hisresolution; yet the heart, like an agitated pendulum, vibrated longafter the momentum had ceased. It grew quieter and quieter by degrees,however, on the part of Mr. Prevost: a change of thought and of objectdid much. All his preparations had to be made for the proper executionof the office he had undertaken; he had more than once to go toAlbany, and on each occasion he took his daughter with him. Eachchange had some effect; and both he and Edith recovered a certaindegree of cheerfulness, at least in general society. It was only inthe quiet and the silent hours, when either was left alone--when thoseintervals took place during which sleep refuses to visit the eye--whenall external sounds are still--when all external sights are absent,and the mind is left alone with thought, and nothing but thought, forits companion,--it was only then that the fears, and the anxiety, andthe gloom returned.
Every moment that could be spared from military duties was passed byLord H---- at Edith's side, whether in her own home or in the city.People remarked his attentions, and commented on them as usual; for nopublicity had been given to their engagement, and the good-humouredworld thought fit to judge it strange that a young nobleman of suchdistinction should be so completely captivated by the daughter of asimple gentleman like Mr. Prevost.
Their comments affected the two lovers little, however. They werethinking of themselves, and not of the world; and though the happiesthours of Lord H---- were those in which, at her father's quiethermitage, he could pass a brief space in wandering with her alonethrough the beautiful scenery round, or sitting with her under theverandah, gazing out upon the prospect and watching the advance ofsummer over the forest world, still he was happy by her side anywhere;and her demeanour in society, her grace, her beauty, as compared withothers, only served to render him proud and happy in his choice.
Thus passed nearly three weeks; by which time the bustle of activepreparation, the marching of several regiments towards the north, andsigns of activity in every department, gave notice to the inhabitantsof Albany that some important military movement was about to takeplace. The fife and drum, and the lumbering roll of the cannon, weredaily heard in the quiet streets. Boats were collecting on the river;parades and exercises occupied the greater part of every day; scoutsand runners were seen hurrying about in different directions; andclouds of Indians, painted and feathered for the war-path, hoveredround the city, and often appeared in the streets.
Lord H---- had advanced with his whole regiment to the neighbourhoodof Sandy Hill; other bodies of troops were following; and theCommissary-General, whose active energy and keen intelligencesurprised all who had only known him as a somewhat reserved and moodyman, had advanced to a spot on the Hudson where a small fort had beenbuilt at the commencement of what was called the King's Road, to seewith his own eyes the safe delivering and proper distrib
ution of thestores he had collected. Long ranges of huts were gathered round thefort, which was judged so far within the English line as to be a placeof perfect security; and many a lady from Albany, both young and old,had gathered together there to see the last of husband, brother, orfather, before they plunged into the forest and encountered the comingstrife.
Here everything was done as usual to smooth the front of war, andconceal its ugly features; and certainly after the arrival of LordH----, with his regiment and the wing of another, the scene wasbrilliant and lively enough. Bright dresses, glittering arms, militarymusic, fluttering flags, and prancing chargers were beheld on everyside; and gay and lively talk, only interrupted now and then by thesolemn words of caution or direction from anxious heart to anxiousheart, hid, in a great degree, the deeper, stronger, sterner feelingsthat were busy underneath.
In all such expeditions, amidst the bustle and excitement, there comelapses of quiet inactivity, especially before the first blow isstruck. Some accident causes a delay; some movements have not beencombined with sufficient accuracy; one party has to wait for another,and is left unoccupied. Thus was it in the present instance. A smallbut important division of the army, to be accompanied by a large bodyof Indians, was retarded by a deficiency of boats; and the newsarrived that two days must elapse before they could reach the fort.
A superior officer was now present; and both Lord H---- and Mr.Prevost felt that it would be no dereliction of duty to seek leave ofabsence in order to visit once more the house of the latter, andpersonally escort Edith to the place where she was to remain till theobject of the expedition was accomplished.
The same day it was first made known what the object of thatexpedition was. The word "Ticonderoga" was whispered through theencampment, running from the general's quarters through every rankdown to the private soldier. A strange sort of feeling of joy spreadthroughout the force; not that many knew either the importance of theobject or the state of the place, but simply that all were relievedfrom an uncertainty.
The comment of Lord H---- was very brief. He had, indeed, long knownthe fact now first published; but, as he told it to Edith whileseating her on her horse to set out, he said--
"The place is luckily near; and the business will soon be brought toan end, my love." A something indefinable in his heart made him add,mentally, "one way or another."
But he gave no utterance to the gloomy doubt; and the little partyrode away.
The Black Eagle; or, Ticonderoga Page 35