CHAPTER XIV
"_The golden hours, on angel wings, Flew o'er me and my dearie._"
BURNS
The evening that followed was of the brightest and happiest; even theadieus spoken to the soldier who was just leaving his home did notsadden it. They were in such a state of exaltation as to see everythingwith courageous and hopeful eyes, and sent Robert off with the feelingthat all these horrible realities they had known so long were but bogiesto frighten foolish children, and that he would come back to themwearing, at the very least, the stars of a major-general. Whateversombre and painful thoughts filled Ercildoune's heart he held there,that no gloom might fall from him upon these fresh young lives, norsadden the cheery expectancy of his son.
Surrey, having carried the first line of defence, prepared for avigorous assault upon the second. Like all eager lovers, his primaryanxiety was to hear "Yes"; afterwards, the day. To that end he waspleading with every resource that love and impatience could lend; butFrancesca shook her head, and smiled, and said that was a long wayoff,--that was not to be thought of, at least till the war was over, andher soldier safe at home; but he insisted that this was the flimsiest,and poorest of excuses; nay, that it was the very reverse of the trueand sensible idea, which was of course wholly on his side. He had thesefew weeks at home, and then must away once more to chances of battle anddeath. He did not say this till he had exhausted every other entreaty;but at last, gathering her close to him with his one loving arm,--"howfortunate," he had before said, "that it is the left arm, because if itwere the other I could not hold you so near my heart!"--so holding her,he glanced down at the empty sleeve, and whispered, "My darling! whoknows? I have been wounded so often, and am now only a piece of a fellowto come to you. It may be something more next time, and then I shallnever call you wife. It would make no difference hereafter, I know: webelong to each other for time and eternity. But then I should like tofeel that we were something more to one another than even betrothedlovers, before the end comes, if come it does, untimely. Be generous,dearie, and say yes."
He did not give utterance to another fear, which was that by some deviceshe might again be taken away from him; that some cruel plan might beput in execution to separate them once more. He would not take therisk; he would bind her to him so securely that no device, howevercunning,--no plan, however hard and shrewd,--could again divide them.
She hesitated long; was long entreated; but the result was sure, sinceher own heart seconded every prayer he uttered. At last she consented;but insisted that he should go home at once, see the mother and fatherwho were waiting for him with such anxious hearts, give to them--as wastheir due--at least a part of the time, and then, when her hastybride-preparations were made, come back and take her wholly to himself.Thus it was arranged, and he left her.
Into the mysteries which followed--the mysteries of hemming andstitching, of tucking and trimming, ruffling, embroidering, of all thehurry and delicious confusion of an elegant yet hasty bridaltrousseau--let us not attempt to investigate.
Doubtless through those days, through this sweet and happy whirl ofemotion, Francesca had many anxious and painful hours: hours in whichshe looked at the future--for him more than for herself--with sorrowfulanticipations and forebodings. But with each evening came a letter,written in the morning by his dear hand; a letter so full of happy,hopeful love, of resolute, manly spirit, that her cares and anxietiesall took flight, and were but as a tale that is told, or as a dream ofdarkness when the sun shines upon a blessed reality.
He wrote her that he had told his parents of his wishes and plans; andthat, as he had known before, they were opposed, and opposed mostbitterly; but he was sure that time would soften, and knowledge destroythis prejudice utterly. He wrote as he believed. They were so fond ofhim, so devoted to him who was their only child, that he was assuredthey would not and could not cast him off, nor hate that which he loved.He did not know that his father, who had never before been guilty of abase action,--his mother, who was fine to daintiness,--were both sowarped by this senseless and cruel feeling--having seen Francesca andknown all her beautiful and noble elements of personal character--as tohave written her a letter which only a losel should have penned and anoutcast read. She did not tell him. Being satisfied that they twobelonged to one another; that if they were separated it would be as thetearing asunder of a perfect whole, leaving the parts rent andbleeding,--she would not listen to any voice that attempted, nor heedany hand that strove to drive an entering wedge, or to divide them. Why,then, should she trouble him by the knowledge that this effort had againbeen made, and by those he trusted and honored. Let it pass. The futuremust decide what the future must be, meanwhile, they were to live in ahappy present.
He learned of it, however, before he left his home. Finding that neitherpersuasions, threats, nor prayers could move him,--that he would be trueto honor and love,--they told him of what they had done; laid bare thewhole intensity of their feeling; and putting her on the one side,placing themselves on the other, said, "Choose,--this wife, or those whohave loved you for a lifetime. Cleave to her, and your father disownsyou, your mother renounces, your home shuts its doors upon you, never toopen. With the world and its judgment we have nothing to do; that isbetween it and you; but no judgment of indifferent strangers shall bemore severe than ours."
A painful position; a cruel alternative; but not for an instant did hehesitate. Taking the two hands of father and mother into his solitaryone, he said,--"Father, I have always found you a gentleman; mother, youhave shown all the graces of the Christian character which you profess;yet in this you are supporting the most dishonorable sentiment, the mostinfidel unbelief, with which the age is shamed. You are defying thedictates of justice and the teachings of God. When you ask me to rankmyself on your side, I cannot do it. Were my heart less wholly enlistedin this matter, my reason and sense of right would rebel. Here, then,for the present at least, we must say farewell." And so, with many aheart-ache and many a pang, he went away.
As true love always grows with passing time, so his increased with thedays, and intensified by the cruel heat which was poured upon it. Herealized the torture to which, in a thousand ways, this darling of hisheart had for a lifetime been subjected; and his tenderness and love--inwhich was an element of indignation and pathos--deepened with everyfresh revelation of the passing hours. When he came back to her he hadfew words to speak, and no airy grace of sentence or caress to bestow;he followed her about in a curious, shadow-like way, with such a strainon his heart as made him many a time lift his hand to it, as if to checkphysical pain. For her, she was as one who had found a beloved master,able and willing to lighten all her burdens; a physician, whoseslightest touch brought balm and healing to every aching wound. And sothese two when the time came, spite of the absence of friends who shouldhave been there, spite of warnings and denunciations and evilprophecies, stood up and said to those who listened what their heartshad long before confessed, that they were one for time and eternity;then, hand in hand, went out into the world.
For the present it was a pleasant enough world to them. Surrey had alovely little place on the Hudson to which he would carry her, andpleased himself by fitting it up with every convenience and beauty thattaste could devise and wealth supply.
How happy they were there! To be sure, nobody came to see them, but thenthey wished to see nobody; so every one was well satisfied. Thedelicious lovers' life of two years before was renewed, but with howmuch richer and deeper delights and blissfulness! They galloped on manya pleasant morning across miles and miles of country, down rocky slopes,and through wild and romantic glens. They drove lazily, on summer noons,through leafy fastnesses and cool forest paths; or sat idly by somelittle stream on the fresh, green moss, with a line dancing on thecrystal water, amusing themselves by the fiction that it was fishingupon which they were intent, and not the dear delight of watching oneanother's faces reflected from the placid stream. They spent hours athome, reading bits of poems, or singing scraps of love-
songs, talking alittle, and then falling away into silence; or she sat perched on hisknee or the elbow of his chair, smoothing his sunny hair, stroking hislong, silky mustache, or looking into his answering eyes, till the worldlapsed quite away from them, and they thought themselves in heaven.
An idle, happy time! a time to make a worker sigh only to behold, and aBenthamite lift his hands in deprecation and despair. A time which wouldnot last, because it could not, any more than apple-blossoms and Mayflowers, but which was sweet and fragrant past all describing while itendured.
Some _kindly_ disposed person sent Surrey a city paper with an itemmarked in such wise as to make him understand its unpleasant importwithout the reading. "Come," he said, "we will have none of this; thisowl does not belong to our sunshine,"--and so destroyed and forgot it.Others, however, saw that which he scorned to read. He had not been intothe city since he called at his father's house, and walked into thereception room of his aunt, and been refused interview or speech ateither place. "Very well," he thought, "I will go from this painfulinhospitality and coldness to my Paradise"; and he went, and remained.
The only letter he wrote was to his old friend and favorite cousin, TomRussell,--who was away somewhere in the far South, and from whom he hadnot heard for many a day,--and hoped that he, at least, would notdisappoint him; would not disappoint the hearty trust he had in hisbreadth of nature and manly sensibility.
And so, with clouds doubtless in the sky, but which they did notsee,--the sun shone so bright for them; and some discords in the minorkeys which they did not heed,--the major music was so sweet andintoxicating,--the brief, glad hours wore away, and the time forparting, with hasty steps, had almost reached and faced them. Meanwhile,what was occurring to others, in other scenes and among othersurroundings?
What Answer? Page 14