Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling Stone

by Mayne Reid

and time had only developed her youngcharms into the perfection of feminine loveliness. To me, her beautytranscended everything I had ever seen; although I had been in Dublin,New Orleans, and Mexico--three places which are not the least favouredwith the light of woman's loveliness.

  Lenore was now sixteen years of age, and looked neither more nor less.The only description I can give of her is that there was nothingremarkable about her, but her beauty. I can give no particulars of howshe appeared. If asked the colour of her hair and eyes, I should havebeen unable to tell; I only knew that she was beautiful.

  I was painfully disappointed at the reception she gave me. She did notmeet me with those manifestations of friendship I had anticipated. Itwas true that I had been a long time away; and her friendship towards memight have become cooled by my protracted absence. But this was apainful consideration. I endeavoured to dismiss it--at the same time Istrove to awaken within her the memories of our old companionship.

  To my chagrin, I saw that I was unsuccessful. She seemed to labourunder some exciting emotion; and I could not help fancying that it wasof a painful character.

  Her whole behaviour was a mystery to me, because so different from whatit had formerly been, or what I had hoped to find it.

  I had left Lenore when she was but little more than a child, and she wasnow a young lady.

  In the three years that had intervened, there was reason for me toexpect some change in her character. With her mother, no change Ipresumed could have taken place. I left Mrs Hyland a woman; and such Ishould find her, only three years older. In her I expected to meet afriend, as I had left her. She entered the room. I was again doomed todisappointment!

  She received me with even more coldness than had been exhibited byLenore. She did not even offer me her hand; but took a seat, and with amore unpleasant expression than I had ever before observed on her face,she waited apparently with impatience for what I might have to say.

  The sensitive feelings of my soul had never been so cruelly wounded. Iwas in an agony of anger and disappointment; and unable any longer toendure the painful excitement of my emotions, I uttered a fewcommon-place speeches, and hastily withdrew from their presence.

  What could their conduct mean? In the excited state of my thoughts, Iwas unable to form even a conjecture, that seemed in any way consistentwith my knowledge of their previous character.

  It might be that when Lenore was a child, and I was a boy, they had seenno harm in befriending and being kind to me; but now that Lenore was ayoung lady, and I a man--a sailor, too--they might have reasons for nothaving any further acquaintance with me.

  Could it be that they were endued with that selfishness--in this worldpossessed by so many? That they had been my friends only becauseCaptain Hyland was my protector--to fall away from me now, that hisprotection could be no longer extended to me?

  I could hardly think this possible: for it would be so much out ofkeeping with all that I had ever known of the character either of MrsHyland or her daughter.

  I had long anticipated great pleasure in revisiting them; and hadthought when again in their presence I should be with friends. Neverhad I been so cruelly disappointed; and for awhile I fancied that Ishould never care to meet with old acquaintances again.

  I am capable of forming strong attachments. I had done so for MrsHyland and her daughter, and their chill reception had the effect ofcausing me to pass a sleepless night.

  In the morning, I was able to reflect with a little more coolness, aswell as clearness. A cause, perhaps _the_ cause, of their strangeconduct suddenly suggested itself to my mind.

  Adkins, the first mate of the ship Lenore, had been, and, no doubt,still was--my enemy. He had turned me out of the ship in New Orleans;and had, in all likelihood, on his arrival in Liverpool, poisoned themind of Mrs Hyland, by some falsehood, of which I was the victim. Iknew the scoundrel to be capable of doing this, or any other baseaction.

  There was a consolation in the thought that this explanation might bethe real one, and for a while it restored the tranquillity of my spirit.

  I would see them again, demand an explanation; and if my suspicionsproved true, I could refute any change made against me--so as once moreto make them my friends.

  I did not desire their friendship from any personal motives. It mightnot now be worth the trouble of having it restored; but in memory oftheir past kindness, and out of regard for my own character, I could notleave them labouring under the impression that I had been ungrateful.

  Alas! there was a deeper motive for my desiring an explanation. Theirfriendship was worth restoring. It was of no use my endeavouring tothink otherwise. The friendship of a beautiful creature like Lenore wasworth every thing. The world to me would be worthless without it. Iwas already wretched at the thought of having lost her good opinion. Imust again establish myself in it, or failing, become more wretchedstill.

  The next day, I returned to the residence of Mrs Hyland. I saw herseated near the window, as I approached the house. I saw her arise, andretire out of sight--evidently after recognising me!

  I rang the bell. The door was opened by a servant--who, without waitingto be interrogated, informed me that neither Mrs nor Miss Hyland wereat home!

  I pushed the door open, passed the astonished domestic, entered thehall; and stepped unceremoniously into the apartment--in the window ofwhich I had seen Mrs Hyland.

  No one was inside--excepting the servant, who had officially followedme. I turned to her, and said in a tone savouring of command:

  "Tell Mrs Hyland that Mr Rowland Stone is here, and will not leaveuntil he has seen her."

  The girl retired, and soon after Mrs Hyland entered the room. She didnot speak; but waited to hear what I had to say.

  "Mrs Hyland," I began, "I am too well acquainted with you, and respectyou too much, to believe that I am treated in the manner I have been,without a good cause. Conscious of having done nothing intentionally toinjure you, or yours, I have returned to demand the reason why yourconduct towards me has undergone such a change. You once used toreceive me here as though I was your own son. What have I done toforfeit your friendship?"

  "If your own conscience does not accuse you," she answered, "it is notnecessary for me to give you any explanation, for you might notunderstand it. But there is one thing that I hope you _will_understand: and that is, that your visits here are no longer eitherwelcome or desirable."

  "I learnt that much yesterday," said I, imitating in a slight degree theair of sneering indifference, in which Mrs Hyland addressed me."To-day I have called for an explanation. Your own words imply that Iwas once welcome; and I wish to know why such is no longer the case."

  "The explanation is then, that you have proved unworthy of ourfriendship. There is no explanation that _you_ can give, that willremove the impression from my mind that you have been guilty ofingratitude and dishonesty towards those who were your best friends; andI do not wish to be pained by listening to any attempt you may make atan apology."

  I became excited. Had the speaker been a man, my excitement would haveassumed the shape of anger.

  "I only ask," I replied, endeavouring, as much as possible, to controlmy feelings, "I only ask, what justice to you, as well as myself,demands you to give. All I require is an explanation; and I will notleave the house, until I have had it. I insist upon knowing of what Iam accused."

  Mrs Hyland, apparently in high displeasure at the tone I had assumed,turned suddenly away from me, and glided out of the room.

  To calm my excitement, I took up a paper, and read, or attempted toread.

  For nearly half an hour I continued this half involuntary occupation.At the end of that time, I stepped up to the fire-place, caught hold ofthe bell pull, and rang the bell.

  "Tell Miss Lenore," said I, when the servant made her appearance, "thatI wish to see her; and that all the policemen in Liverpool cannot put meout of this house, until I have done so."

  The girl flounced back through the
door; and shortly after Lenore, withhalf of a smile on her beautiful face, entered the room.

  She appeared less reserved than on the interview of the day before; and,if possible, more lovely. I was too happy to interpret from herdeportment, that she had not yet entirely forgotten the past; and thatwhat I now wished to know, she would not hesitate to reveal.

  "Lenore," said I, as she entered, "in you I hope still to find afriend--notwithstanding the coldness with which you have treated me; andfrom you I demand an explanation."

  "The only explanation I can give," said she, "is, that mamma and I haveprobably been deceived. There is one who has accused you ofingratitude, and other crimes as bad--perhaps worse."

  "Adkins!" I exclaimed. "It is Adkins, the first mate of the `Lenore!'"

  "Yes, it is he who has brought the accusation; and, unfortunately,whether false or no, your conduct has been some evidence of the truth ofthe story he has told us. Oh!