Ormond; Or, The Secret Witness. Volume 3 (of 3)

by Charles Brockden Brown

  CHAPTER IX.

  While occupied with these reflections, the light hastily disappeared,and darkness, rendered, by a cloudy atmosphere, uncommonly intense,succeeded. She had the means of lighting a lamp that hung against thewall, but had been too much immersed in thought to notice the deepeningof the gloom. Recovering from her reverie, she looked around her withsome degree of trepidation, and prepared to strike a spark that wouldenable her to light her lamp.

  She had hitherto indulged an habitual indifference to danger. Now thepresence of Ormond, the unknown purpose that led him hither, and thedefencelessness of her condition, inspired her with apprehensions towhich she had hitherto been a stranger. She had been accustomed to passmany nocturnal hours in this closet. Till now, nothing had occurred thatmade her enter it with circumspection or continue in it with reluctance.

  Her sensations were no longer tranquil. Each minute that she spent inthis recess appeared to multiply her hazards. To linger here appeared toher the height of culpable temerity. She hastily resolved to return tothe farmer's dwelling, and, on the morrow, to repair to New York. Forthis end she was desirous to produce a light. The materials were athand.

  She lifted her hand to strike the flint, when her ear caught a soundwhich betokened the opening of the door that led into the nextapartment. Her motion was suspended, and she listened as well as athrobbing heart would permit. That Ormond's was the hand that opened,was the first suggestion of her fears. The motives of this unseasonableentrance could not be reconciled with her safety. He had given nowarning of his approach, and the door was opened with tardiness andseeming caution.

  Sounds continued, of which no distinct conception could be obtained, orthe cause that produced them assigned. The floors of every apartmentbeing composed, like the walls and ceiling, of cement, footsteps wererendered almost undistinguishable. It was plain, however, that some oneapproached her own door.

  The panic and confusion that now invaded her was owing to surprise, andto the singularity of her situation. The mansion was desolate andlonely. It was night. She was immersed in darkness. She had not themeans, and was unaccustomed to the office, of repelling personalinjuries. What injuries she had reason to dread, who was the agent, andwhat were his motives, were subjects Of vague and incoherent meditation.

  Meanwhile, low and imperfect sounds, that had in them more of inanimatethan human, assailed her ear. Presently they ceased. An inexplicablefear deterred her from calling. Light would have exercised a friendlyinfluence. This it was in her power to produce, but not without motionand noise; and these, by occasioning the discovery of her being in thecloset, might possibly enhance her danger.

  Conceptions like these were unworthy of the mind of Constantia. Aninterval of silence succeeded, interrupted only by the whistling of theblast without. It was sufficient for the restoration of her courage. Sheblushed at the cowardice which had trembled at a sound. She consideredthat Ormond might, indeed, be near, but that he was probably unconsciousof her situation. His coming was not with the circumspection of anenemy. He might be acquainted with the place of her retreat, and hadcome to obtain an interview, with no clandestine or mysterious purposes.The noises she had heard had, doubtless, proceeded from the nextapartment, but might be produced by some harmless or vagrant creature.

  These considerations restored her tranquillity. They enabled her,deliberately, to create a light, but they did not dissuade her fromleaving the house. Omens of evil seemed to be connected with thissolitary and darksome abode. Besides, Ormond had unquestionably enteredupon this scene It could not be doubted that she was the object of hisvisit. The farm-house was a place of meeting more suitable and safe thanany other. Thither, therefore, she determined immediately to return.

  The closet had but one door, and this led into the chamber where thesounds had arisen. Through this chamber, therefore, she was obliged topass, in order to reach the staircase, which terminated in the hallbelow.

  Bearing the light in her left hand, she withdrew the bolt of the doorand opened. In spite of courageous efforts, she opened withunwillingness, and shuddered to throw a glance forward or advance a stepinto the room. This was not needed, to reveal to her the cause of herlate disturbance. Her eye instantly lighted on the body of a man,supine, motionless, stretched on the floor, close to the door throughwhich she was about to pass.

  A spectacle like this was qualified to startle her. She shrunk back, andfixed a more steadfast eye upon the prostrate person. There was no markof blood or of wounds, but there was something in the attitude moresignificant of death than of sleep. His face rested on the floor, andhis ragged locks concealed what part of his visage was not hidden by hisposture. His garb was characterized by fashionable elegance, but waspolluted with dust.

  The image that first occurred to her was that of Ormond. This instantlygave place to another, which was familiar to her apprehension. It was atfirst too indistinctly seen to suggest a name. She continued to gaze andto be lost in fearful astonishment. Was this the person whose entrancehad been overheard, and who had dragged himself hither to die at herdoor? Yet, in that case, would not groans and expiring efforts havetestified his condition and invoked her succour? Was he not broughthither in the arms of his assassin? She mused upon the possible motivesthat induced some one thus to act, and upon the connection that mightsubsist between her destiny and that of the dead.

  Her meditations, however fruitless in other respects, could not fail toshow her the propriety of hastening from this spot. To scrutinize theform or face of the dead was a task to which her courage was unequal.Suitably accompanied and guarded, she would not scruple to return andascertain, by the most sedulous examination, the cause of this ominousevent.

  She stepped over the breathless corpse, and hurried to the staircase. Itbecame her to maintain the command of her muscles and joints, and toproceed without faltering or hesitation. Scarcely had she reached theentrance of the hall, when, casting anxious looks forward, she beheld ahuman figure. No scrutiny was requisite to inform her that this wasOrmond.

  She stopped. He approached her with looks and gestures placid butsolemn. There was nothing in his countenance rugged or malignant. On thecontrary, there were tokens of compassion.

  "So," said he, "I expected to meet you. Alight, gleaming from thewindow, marked you out. This and Laffert's directions have guided me."

  "What," said Constantia, with discomposure in her accent, "was yourmotive for seeking me?"

  "Have you forgotten," said Ormond, "what passed at our last interview?The evil that I then predicted is at hand. Perhaps you were incredulous;you accounted me a madman or deceiver; now I am come to witness thefulfilment of my words and the completion of your destiny. To rescue youI have not come: that is not within the compass of human powers.

  "Poor Constantia," he continued, in tones that manifested genuinesympathy, "look upon thyself as lost. The toils that beset thee areinextricable. Summon up thy patience to endure the evil. Now will thelast and heaviest trial betide thy fortitude. I could weep for thee, ifmy manly nature would permit. This is the scene of thy calamity, andthis the hour."

  These words were adapted to excite curiosity mingled with terror.Ormond's deportment was of an unexampled tenor, as well as that evilwhich he had so ambiguously predicted. He offered no protection fromdanger, and yet gave no proof of being himself an agent or auxiliary.After a minute's pause, Constantia, recovering a firm tone, said,--

  "Mr. Ormond, your recent deportment but ill accords with yourprofessions of sincerity and plain dealing. What your purpose is, orwhether you have any purpose, I am at a loss to conjecture. Whether youmost deserve censure or ridicule, is a point which you afford me not themeans of deciding, and to which, unless on your own account, I amindifferent. If you are willing to be more explicit, or if there be anytopic on which you wish further to converse, I will not refuse yourcompany to Laffert's dwelling. Longer to remain here would be indiscreetand absurd."

  So saying, she motioned towards the door. Ormond was passive, and seemedin
disposed to prevent her departure, till she laid her hand upon thelock. He then, without moving from his place, exclaimed,--

  "Stay! Must this meeting, which fate ordains to be the last, be soshort? Must a time and place so suitable for what remains to be said anddone be neglected or misused? No. You charge me with duplicity, and deemmy conduct either ridiculous or criminal. I have stated my reasons forconcealment, but these have failed to convince you. Well, here is now anend to doubt. All ambiguities are preparing to vanish."

  When Ormond began to speak, Constantia paused to hearken to him. Hisvehemence was not of that nature which threatened to obstruct herpassage. It was by entreaty that he apparently endeavoured to detain hersteps, and not by violence. Hence arose her patience to listen. Hecontinued:--

  "Constantia! thy father is dead. Art thou not desirous of detecting theauthor of his fate? Will it afford thee no consolation to know that thedeed is punished? Wilt thou suffer me to drag the murderer to thy feet?Thy justice will be gratified by this sacrifice. Somewhat will be due tohim who avenged thy wrong in the blood of the perpetrator. What sayestthou? Grant me thy permission, and in a moment I will drag him hither."

  These words called up the image of the person whose corpse she hadlately seen. It was readily conceived that to him Ormond alluded; butthis was the assassin of her father, and his crime had been detected andpunished by Ormond! These images had no other effect than to urge herdeparture: she again applied her hand to the lock, and said,--

  "This scene must not be prolonged. My father's death I desire not tohear explained or to see revenged, but whatever information you arewilling or able to communicate must be deferred."

  "Nay," interrupted Ormond, with augmented vehemence, "art thou equallydevoid of curiosity and justice? Thinkest thou that the enmity whichbereft thy father of life will not seek thy own? There are evils which Icannot prevent thee from enduring, but there are, likewise, ills whichmy counsel will enable thee and thy friend to shun. Save me fromwitnessing thy death. Thy father's destiny is sealed; all that remainedwas to punish his assassin; but thou and thy Sophia still live. Whyshould ye perish by a like stroke?"

  This intimation was sufficient to arrest the steps of Constantia. Shewithdrew her hand from the door, and fixed eyes of the deepest anxietyon Ormond:--"What mean you? How am I to understand--"

  "Ah!" said Ormond, "I see thou wilt consent to stay. Thy detention shallnot be long. Remain where thou art during one moment,--merely while Idrag hither thy enemy and show thee a visage which thou wilt not be slowto recognise." Saying this, he hastily ascended the staircase, andquickly passed beyond her sight.

  Deportment thus mysterious could not fail of bewildering her thoughts.There was somewhat in the looks and accents of Ormond, different fromformer appearances; tokens of a hidden purpose and a smothered meaningwere perceptible,--a mixture of the inoffensive and the lawless, which,added to the loneliness and silence that encompassed her, produced afaltering emotion. Her curiosity was overpowered by her fear, and theresolution was suddenly conceived of seizing this opportunity to escape.

  A third time she put her hand to the lock and attempted to open. Theeffort was ineffectual. The door that was accustomed to obey thegentlest touch was now immovable. She had lately unlocked and passedthrough it. Her eager inspection convinced her that the principal boltwas still withdrawn, but a small one was now perceived, of whoseexistence she had not been apprized, and over which her key had nopower.

  Now did she first harbour a fear that was intelligible in its dictates.Now did she first perceive herself sinking in the toils of some lurkingenemy. Hope whispered that this foe was not Ormond. His conduct hadbespoken no willingness to put constraint upon her steps. He talked notas if he was aware of this obstruction, and yet his seeming acquiescencemight have flowed from a knowledge that she had no power to removebeyond his reach.

  He warned her of danger to her life, of which he was her self-appointedrescuer. His counsel was to arm her with sufficient caution; the perilthat awaited her was imminent; this was the time and place of itsoccurrence, and here she was compelled to remain, till the power thatfastened would condescend to loose the door. There were other avenues tothe hall. These were accustomed to be locked; but Ormond had foundaccess, and, if all continued fast, it was incontestable that he was theauthor of this new impediment.

  The other avenues were hastily examined. All were bolted and locked. Thefirst impulse led her to call for help from without; but the mansion wasdistant from Laffert's habitation. This spot was wholly unfrequented. Nopassenger was likely to be stationed where her call could be heard.Besides, this forcible detention might operate for a short time, and beattended with no mischievous consequences. Whatever was to come, it washer duty to collect her courage and encounter it.

  Tho steps of Ormond above now gave tokens of his approach. Vigilantobservance of this man was all that her situation permitted. A vehementeffort restored her to some degree of composure. Her stifledpalpitations allowed her steadfastly to notice him as he now descendedthe stairs, bearing a lifeless body in his arms. "There!" said he, as hecast it at her feet; "whose countenance is that? Who would imagine thatfeatures like those belonged to an assassin and impostor?"

  Closed eyelids and fallen muscles could not hide from her lineaments sooften seen. She shrunk back and exclaimed, "Thomas Craig!"

  A pause succeeded, in which she alternately gazed at the countenance ofthis unfortunate wretch and at Ormond. At length, the latterexclaimed,--

  "Well, my girl, hast thou examined him? Dost thou recognise a friend oran enemy?"

  "I know him well: but how came this? What purpose brought him hither?Who was the author of his fate?"

  "Have I not already told thee that Ormond was his own avenger and thine?To thee and to me he has been a robber. To him thy father is indebtedfor the loss not only of property but life. Did crimes like these merita less punishment? And what recompense is due to him whose vigilancepursued him hither and made him pay for his offences with his blood?What benefit have I received at thy hand to authorize me, for thy sake,to take away his life?"

  "No benefit received from me," said Constantia, "would justify such anact. I should have abhorred myself for annexing to my benefits so bloodya condition. It calls for no gratitude or recompense. Its suitableattendant is remorse. That he is a thief, I know but too well; that myfather died by his hand is incredible. No motives or means--"

  "Why so?" interrupted Ormond. "Does not sleep seal up the senses? Cannotclosets be unlocked at midnight? Cannot adjoining houses communicate bydoors? Cannot these doors be hidden from suspicion by a sheet ofcanvas?"

  These words were of startling and abundant import. They reminded her ofcircumstances in her father's chamber, which sufficiently explained themeans by which his life was assailed. The closet, and its canvas-coveredwall; the adjoining house untenanted and shut up--but this house, thoughunoccupied, belonged to Ormond. From the inferences which flowed hence,her attention was withdrawn by her companion, who continued:--

  "Do these means imply the interposal of a miracle? His motives? Whatscruples can be expected from a man inured from infancy to cunning andpillage? Will he abstain from murder when urged by excruciating poverty,by menaces of persecution, by terror of expiring on the gallows?"

  Tumultuous suspicions were now awakened in the mind of Constantia. Herfaltering voice scarcely allowed her to ask, "How know _you_ that Craigwas thus guilty?--that these were his incitements and means?"

  Ormond's solemnity now gave place to a tone of sarcasm and looks ofexultation:--"Poor Constantia! Thou art still pestered with incredulityand doubts! My veracity is still in question! My knowledge, girl, isinfallible. That these were his means of access I cannot be ignorant,for I pointed them out. He was urged by these motives, for they werestated and enforced by me. His was the deed, for I stood beside him whenit was done."

  These, indeed, were terms that stood in no need of further explanation.The veil that shrouded this formidable being was lifted high enou
gh tomake him be regarded with inexplicable horror. What his future actsshould be, how his omens of ill were to be solved, were still involvedin uncertainty.

  In the midst of fears for her own safety, by which Constantia was nowassailed, the image of her father was revived; keen regret and vehementupbraiding were conjured up.

  "Craig, then, was the instrument, and yours the instigation, thatdestroyed my father! In what had he offended you? What cause had hegiven for resentment?"

  "Cause!" replied he, with impetuous accents. "Resentment! None. Mymotive was benevolent; my deed conferred a benefit. I gave him sight andtook away his life, from motives equally wise. Know you not that Ormondwas fool enough to set value on the affections of a woman? These weresought with preposterous anxiety and endless labour. Among otherfacilitators of his purpose, he summoned gratitude to his aid. Tosnatch you from poverty, to restore his sight to your father, wereexpected to operate as incentives to love.

  "But here I was the dupe of error. A thousand prejudices stood in myway. These, provided our intercourse were not obstructed, I hoped tosubdue. The rage of innovation seized your father: this, blended with amortal antipathy to me, made him labour to seduce you from the bosom ofyour peaceful country; to make you enter on a boisterous sea; to visitlands where all is havoc and hostility; to snatch you from the influenceof my arguments.

  "This new obstacle I was bound to remove. While revolving the means,chance and his evil destiny threw Craig in my way. I soon convinced himthat his reputation and his life were in my hands. His retention ofthese depended upon my will, on the performance of conditions which Iprescribed.

  "My happiness and yours depended on your concurrence with my wishes.Your father's life was an obstacle to your concurrence. For killing him,therefore, I may claim your gratitude. His death was a due anddisinterested offering at the altar of your felicity and mine.

  "My deed was not injurious to him. At his age, death, whose coming atsome period is inevitable, could not be distant. To make it unforeseenand brief, and void of pain,--to preclude the torments of a lingeringmalady, a slow and visible descent to the grave,--was the dictate ofbeneficence. But of what value was a continuance of his life? Either youwould have gone with him to Europe or have stayed at home with me. Inthe first case, his life would have been rapidly consumed by perils andcares. In the second, separation from you, and union with me,--a beingso detestable,--would equally have poisoned his existence.

  "Craig's cowardice and crimes made him a pliant and commodious tool. Ipointed out the way. The unsuspected door which led into the closet ofyour father's chamber was made, by my direction, during the life ofHelena. By this avenue I was wont to post myself where all yourconversations could be overheard. By this avenue an entrance andretreat were afforded to the agent of my newest purpose.

  "Fool that I was! I solaced myself with the belief that all impedimentswere now smoothed, when a new enemy appeared. My folly lasted as long asmy hope. I saw that to gain your affections, fortified by antiquatedscruples and obsequious to the guidance of this new monitor, wasimpossible. It is not my way to toil after that which is beyond myreach. If the greater good be inaccessible, I learn to be contented withthe less.

  "I have served you with successless sedulity. I have set an engine inact to obliterate an obstacle to your felicity, and lay your father atrest. Under my guidance, this engine was productive only of good.Governed by itself or by another, it will only work you harm. I have,therefore, hastened to destroy it. Lo! it is now before you motionlessand impotent.

  "For this complexity of benefit I look for no reward. I am not tired ofwell-doing. Having ceased to labour for an unattainable good, I havecome hither to possess myself of all that I now crave, and by the samedeed to afford you an illustrious opportunity to signalize your wisdomand your fortitude."

  During this speech, the mind of Constantia became more deeply pervadedwith dread of some overhanging but incomprehensible evil. The strongestimpulse was to gain a safe asylum, at a distance from this spot and fromthe presence of this extraordinary being. This impulse was followed bythe recollection that her liberty was taken away, that egress from thehall was denied her, and that this restriction might be part of someconspiracy of Ormond against her life.

  Security from danger like this would be, in the first place, sought, byone of Constantia's sex and opinions, in flight. This had been rendered,by some fatal chance or by the precautions of her foe, impracticable.Stratagem or force was all that remained to elude or disarm heradversary. For the contrivance and execution of fraud, all the habits ofher life and all the maxims of her education had conspired to unfit her.Her force of muscles would avail her nothing against the superiorenergy of Ormond.

  She remembered that to inflict death was no iniquitous exertion ofself-defence, and that the penknife which she held in her hand wascapable of this service. She had used it to remove any lurkingobstruction in the wards of her key, supposing, for a time, this to bethe cause of her failing to withdraw the bolt of the door. This resourcewas, indeed, scarcely less disastrous and deplorable than any fate fromwhich it could rescue her. Some uncertainty still involved theintentions of Ormond. As soon as he paused, she spoke:--

  "How am I to understand this prelude? Let me know the full extent of mydanger,--why it is that I am hindered from leaving this house, and whythis interview was sought."

  "Ah, Constantia, this, indeed, is merely a prelude to a scene that is toterminate my influence over thy fate. When this is past I have sworn topart with thee forever. Art thou still dubious of my purpose? Art thounot a woman? And have I not entreated for thy love and been rejected?

  "Canst thou imagine that I aim at thy life? My avowals of love weresincere; my passion was vehement and undisguised. It gave dignity andvalue to a gift in thy power, as a woman, to bestow. This has beendenied. That gift has lost none of its value in my eyes. What thourefusest to bestow it is in my power to extort. I came for that end.When this end is accomplished, I will restore thee to liberty."

  These words were accompanied by looks that rendered all explanation oftheir meaning useless. The evil reserved for her, hitherto obscured byhalf-disclosed and contradictory attributes, was now sufficientlyapparent. The truth in this respect unveiled itself with the rapidityand brightness of an electrical flash.

  She was silent. She cast her eyes at the windows and doors. Escapethrough them was hopeless. She looked at those lineaments of Ormondwhich evinced his disdain of supplication and inexorable passions. Shefelt that entreaty and argument would be vain; that all appeals to hiscompassion and benevolence would counteract her purpose, since, in theunexampled conformation of this man's mind, these principles were madesubservient to his most flagitious designs. Considerations of justiceand pity were made, by a fatal perverseness of reasoning, champions andbulwarks of his most atrocious mistakes.

  The last extremes of opposition, the most violent expedients fordefence, would be justified by being indispensable. To find safety forher honour, even in the blood of an assailant, was the prescription ofduty. Tho equity of this species of defence was not, in the presentconfusion of her mind, a subject of momentary doubt.

  To forewarn him of her desperate purpose would be to furnish him withmeans of counteraction. Her weapon would easily be wrested from herfeeble hand. Ineffectual opposition would only precipitate her evildestiny. A rage, contented with nothing less than her life, might beawakened in his bosom. But was not this to be desired? Death, untimelyand violent, was better than the loss of honour.

  This thought led to a new series of reflections. She involuntarilyshrunk from the act of killing: but would her efforts to destroy heradversary be effectual? Would not his strength and dexterity easilyrepel or elude them? Her power in this respect was questionable, but herpower was undeniably sufficient to a different end. The instrument whichcould not rescue her from this injury by the destruction of anothermight save her from it by her own destruction.

  These thoughts rapidly occurred; but the resolution to which they le
dwas scarcely formed, when Ormond advanced towards her. She recoiled afew steps, and, showing the knife which she held, said,--

  "Ormond! Beware! Know that my unalterable resolution is to dieuninjured. I have the means in my power. Stop where you are; one stepmore, and I plunge this knife into my heart. I know that to contend withyour strength or your reason would be vain. To turn this weapon againstyou I should not fear, if I were sure of success; but to that I willnot trust. To save a greater good by the sacrifice of life is in mypower, and that sacrifice shall be made."

  "Poor Constantia!" replied Ormond, in a tone of contempt; "so thoupreferrest thy imaginary honour to life! To escape this injury without aname or substance, without connection with the past or future, withoutcontamination of thy purity or thraldom of thy will, thou wilt killthyself; put an end to thy activity in virtue's cause; rob thy friend ofher solace, the world of thy beneficence, thyself of being and pleasure?

  "I shall be grieved for the fatal issue of my experiment; I shall mournover thy martyrdom to the most opprobrious and contemptible of allerrors: but that thou shouldst undergo the trial is decreed. There isstill an interval of hope that thy cowardice is counterfeited, or thatit will give place to wisdom and courage.

  "Whatever thou intendest by way of prevention or cure, it behooves theeto employ with steadfastness. Die with the guilt of suicide and thebrand of cowardice upon thy memory, or live with thy claims to felicityand approbation undiminished. Choose which thou wilt. Thy decision is ofmoment to thyself, but of none to me. Living or dead, the prize that Ihave in view shall be mine."

  CHAPTER X.

  It will be requisite to withdraw your attention from this scene for amoment, and fix it on myself. My impatience of my friend's delay, forsome days preceding this disastrous interview, became continually morepainful. As the time of our departure approached, my dread of somemisfortune or impediment increased. Ormond's disappearance from thescene contributed but little to my consolation. To wrap his purposes inmystery, to place himself at seeming distance, was the usual artifice ofsuch as he,--was necessary to the maturing of his project and thehopeless entanglement of his victim. I saw no means of placing thesafety of my friend beyond his reach. Between different methods ofprocedure, there was, however, room for choice. Her present abode wasmore hazardous than an abode in the city. To be alone argued a statemore defenceless and perilous than to be attended by me.

  I wrote her an urgent admonition to return. My remonstrances werecouched in such terms as, in my own opinion, laid her under thenecessity of immediate compliance. The letter was despatched by theusual messenger, and for some hours I solaced myself with the prospectof a speedy meeting.

  These thoughts gave place to doubt and apprehension. I began to distrustthe efficacy of my arguments, and to invent a thousand reasons, inducingher, in defiance of my rhetoric, at least to protract her absence. Thesereasons I had not previously conceived, and had not, therefore,attempted, in my letter, to invalidate their force. This omission waspossible to be supplied in a second epistle; but, meanwhile, time wouldbe lost, and my new arguments might, like the old, fail to convinceher. At least, the tongue was a much more versatile and powerfuladvocate than the pen; and, by hastening to her habitation, I mighteither compel her to return with me, or ward off danger by my presence,or share it with her. I finally resolved to join her by the speediestconveyance.

  This resolution was suggested by the meditations of a sleepless night. Irose with the dawn, and sought out the means of transporting myself,with most celerity, to the abode of my friend. A stage-boat, accustomedtwice a day to cross New York Bay to Staten Island, was prevailed upon,by liberal offers, to set out upon the voyage at the dawn of day. Thesky was gloomy, and the air boisterous and unsettled. The wind, suddenlybecoming tempestuous and adverse, rendered the voyage at once tediousand full of peril. A voyage of nine miles was not effected in less thaneight hours and without imminent and hairbreadth danger of beingdrowned.

  Fifteen miles of the journey remained to be performed by land. Acarriage, with the utmost difficulty, was procured, but lank horses anda crazy vehicle were but little in unison with my impatience. We reachednot Amboy ferry till some hours after nightfall. I was rowed across theSound, and proceeded to accomplish the remainder of my journey--aboutthree miles--on foot.

  I was actuated to this speed by indefinite but powerful motives. Thebelief that my speedy arrival was essential to the rescue of my friendfrom some inexplicable injury haunted me with ceaseless importunity. Onno account would I have consented to postpone this precipitateexpedition till the morrow.

  I at length arrived at Dudley's farm-house. The inhabitants were struckwith wonder at the sight of me. My clothes were stained by the water bywhich every passenger was copiously sprinkled during our boisterousnavigation, and soiled by dust; my frame was almost overpowered byfatigue and abstinence.

  To my anxious inquiries respecting my friend, they told me that herevenings were usually spent at the mansion, where it was probable shewas now to be found. They were not apprized of any inconvenience ordanger that betided her. It was her custom sometimes to prolong herabsence till midnight.

  I could not applaud the discretion nor censure the temerity of thisproceeding. My mind was harassed by unintelligible omens andself-confuted fears. To obviate the danger and to banish my inquietudeswas my first duty. For this end I hastened to the mansion. Having passedthe intervening hillocks and copses, I gained a view of the front of thebuilding. My heart suddenly sunk, on observing that no apartment--noteven that in which I knew it was her custom to sit at these unseasonablehours--was illuminated. A gleam from the window of the study I shouldhave regarded as an argument at once of her presence and her safety.

  I approached the house with misgiving and faltering steps. The gateleading into a spacious court was open. A sound on one side attracted myattention. In the present state of my thoughts, any near or unexplainedsound sufficed to startle me. Looking towards the quarter whence mypanic was excited, I espied, through the dusk, a horse grazing, with hisbridle thrown over his neck.

  This appearance was a new source of perplexity and alarm. The inferencewas unavoidable that a visitant was here. Who that visitant was, and howhe was now employed, was a subject of eager but fruitless curiosity.Within and around the mansion, all was buried in the deepest repose. Inow approached the principal door, and, looking through the keyhole,perceived a lamp, standing on the lowest step of the staircase. It sheda pale light over the lofty ceiling and marble balustrades. No face ormovement of a human being was perceptible.

  These tokens assured me that some one was within: they also accountedfor the non-appearance of light at the window above. I withdrew my eyefrom this avenue, and was preparing to knock loudly for admission, whenmy attention was awakened by some one who advanced to the door from theinside and seemed busily engaged in unlocking. I started back and waitedwith impatience till the door should open and the person issue forth.

  Presently I heard a voice within exclaim, in accents of mingled terrorand grief, "Oh, what--what will become of me? Shall I never be releasedfrom this detested prison?"

  The voice was that of Constantia. It penetrated to my heart like anicebolt. I once more darted a glance through the crevice. A figure, withdifficulty recognised to be that of my friend, now appeared in sight.Her hands were clasped on her breast, her eyes wildly fixed upon theceiling and streaming with tears, and her hair unbound and fallingconfusedly over her bosom and neck.

  My sensations scarcely permitted me to call, "Constantia! For Heaven'ssake, what has happened to you? Open the door, I beseech you."

  "What voice is that? Sophia Courtland! O my friend! I am imprisoned!Some demon has barred the door, beyond my power to unfasten. Ah, whycomest thou so late? Thy succour would have somewhat profited if soonergiven; but now, the lost Constantia--" Here her voice sunk intoconvulsive sobs.

  In the midst of my own despair, on perceiving the fulfilment of myapprehensions, and what I regarded as the fatal execution of
someproject of Ormond, I was not insensible to the suggestions of prudence.I entreated my friend to retain her courage, while I flew to Laffert'sand returned with suitable assistance to burst open the door.

  The people of the farm-house readily obeyed my summons. Accompanied bythree men of powerful sinews, sons and servants of the farmer, Ireturned with the utmost expedition to the mansion. The lamp stillremained in its former place, but our loudest calls were unanswered. Thesilence was uninterrupted and profound.

  The door yielded to strenuous and repeated efforts, and I rushed intothe hall. The first object that met my sight was my friend, stretchedupon the floor, pale and motionless, supine, and with all the tokens ofdeath.

  From this object my attention was speedily attracted by two figures,breathless and supine like that of Constantia. One of them was Ormond. Asmile of disdain still sat upon his features. The wound by which he fellwas secret, and was scarcely betrayed by the effusion of a drop ofblood. The face of the third victim was familiar to my early days. Itwas that of the impostor whose artifice had torn from Mr. Dudley hispeace and fortune.

  An explication of this scene was hopeless. By what disastrous andinscrutable fate a place like this became the scene of such complicatedhavoc, to whom Craig was indebted for his death, what evil had beenmeditated or inflicted by Ormond, and by what means his project hadarrived at this bloody consummation, were topics of wild and fearfulconjecture.

  But my friend--the first impulse of my fears was to regard her as dead.Hope and a closer observation outrooted, or, at least, suspended, thisopinion. One of the men lifted her in his arms. No trace of blood ormark of fatal violence was discoverable, and the effusion of cold waterrestored her, though slowly, to life.

  To withdraw her from this spectacle of death was my first care. Shesuffered herself to be led to the farm-house. She was carried to herchamber. For a time she appeared incapable of recollection. She graspedmy hand, as I sat by her bedside, but scarcely gave any other tokens oflife.

  From this state of inactivity she gradually recovered. I was actuated bya thousand forebodings, but refrained from molesting her byinterrogation or condolence. I watched by her side in silence, but waseager to collect from her own lips an account of this mysterioustransaction.

  At length she opened her eyes, and appeared to recollect her presentsituation, and the events which led to it. I inquired into hercondition, and asked if there were any thing in my power to procure orperform for her.

  "Oh, my friend," she answered, "what have I done, what have I suffered,within the last dreadful hour! The remembrance, though insupportable,will never leave me. You can do nothing for my relief. All I claim isyour compassion and your sympathy."

  "I hope," said I, "that nothing has happened to load you with guilt orwith shame?"

  "Alas! I know not. My deed was scarcely the fruit of intention. It wassuggested by a momentary frenzy. I saw no other means of escaping fromvileness and pollution. I was menaced with an evil worse than death. Iforebore till my strength was almost subdued: the lapse of anothermoment would have placed me beyond hope.

  "My stroke was desperate and at random. It answered my purpose too well.He cast at me a look of terrible upbraiding, but spoke not. His heartwas pierced, and he sunk, as if struck by lightning, at my feet. O mucherring and unhappy Ormond! That thou shouldst thus untimely perish! ThatI should be thy executioner!"

  These words sufficiently explained the scene that I had witnessed. Theviolence of Ormond had been repulsed by equal violence. His foulattempts had been prevented by his death. Not to deplore the necessitywhich had produced this act was impossible; but, since this necessityexisted, it was surely not a deed to be thought upon with lastinghorror, or to be allowed to generate remorse.

  In consequence of this catastrophe, arduous duties had devolved upon me.The people that surrounded me were powerless with terror. Theirignorance and cowardice left them at a loss how to act in thisemergency. They besought my direction, and willingly performed whateverI thought proper to enjoin upon them.

  No deliberation was necessary to acquaint me with my duty. Laffert wasdespatched to the nearest magistrate with a letter, in which hisimmediate presence was entreated and these transactions were brieflyexplained. Early the next day the formalities of justice, in theinspection of the bodies and the examination of witnesses, wereexecuted. It would be needless to dwell on the particulars of thiscatastrophe. A sufficient explanation has been given of the causes thatled to it. They were such as exempted my friend from legalanimadversion. Her act was prompted by motives which every scheme ofjurisprudence known in the world not only exculpates, but applauds. Tostate these motives before a tribunal hastily formed and exercising itsfunctions on the spot was a task not to be avoided, though infinitelypainful. Remonstrances the most urgent and pathetic could scarcelyconquer her reluctance.

  This task, however, was easy, in comparison with that which remained. Torestore health and equanimity to my friend; to repel the erroneousaccusations of her conscience; to hinder her from musing, with eternalanguish, upon this catastrophe; to lay the spirit of secret upbraidingby which she was incessantly tormented, which bereft her of repose,empoisoned all her enjoyments, and menaced not only the subversion ofher peace but the speedy destruction of her life, became my nextemployment.

  My counsels and remonstrances were not wholly inefficacious. Theyafforded me the prospect of her ultimate restoration to tranquillity.Meanwhile, I called to my aid the influence of time and of a change ofscene. I hastened to embark with her for Europe. Our voyage wastempestuous and dangerous, but storms and perils at length gave way tosecurity and repose.

  Before our voyage was commenced, I endeavoured to procure tidings of thetrue condition and designs of Ormond. My information extended no furtherthan that he had put his American property into the hands of Mr.Melbourne, and was preparing to embark for France. Courtland, who hassince been at Paris, and who, while there, became confidentiallyacquainted with Martinette de Beauvais, has communicated facts of anunexpected nature.

  At the period of Ormond's return to Philadelphia, at which his lastinterview with Constantia in that city took place, he visitedMartinette. He avowed himself to be her brother, and supported hispretensions by relating the incidents of his early life. A separation atthe age of fifteen, and which had lasted for the same number of years,may be supposed to have considerably changed the countenance and figureshe had formerly known. His relationship was chiefly proved by theenumeration of incidents of which her brother only could be apprized.

  He possessed a minute acquaintance with her own adventures, butconcealed from her the means by which he had procured the knowledge. Hehad rarely and imperfectly alluded to his own opinions and projects, andhad maintained an invariable silence on the subject of his connectionwith Constantia and Helena. Being informed of her intention to return toFrance, he readily complied with her request to accompany her in thisvoyage. His intentions in this respect were frustrated by the dreadfulcatastrophe that has been just related. Respecting this event,Martinette had collected only vague and perplexing information.Courtland, though able to remove her doubts, thought proper to withholdfrom her the knowledge he possessed.

  Since her arrival in England, the life of my friend has experiencedlittle variation. Of her personal deportment and domestic habits youhave been a witness. These, therefore, it would be needless for me toexhibit. It is sufficient to have related events which the recentness ofyour intercourse with her hindered you from knowing but by means of someformal narrative like the present. She and her friend only were able toimpart to you the knowledge which you have so anxiously sought. Inconsideration of your merits and of your attachment to my friend, I haveconsented to devote my leisure to this task.

  It is now finished; and I have only to add my wishes that the perusal ofthis tale may afford you as much instruction as the contemplation of thesufferings and vicissitudes of Constantia Dudley has afforded to me.Farewell.

  THE END.

  k you for reading books on Archive.