The Kentuckian in New-York; or, The Adventures of Three Southerns. Volume 1 (of 2)
Page 3
CHAPTER III.
After a substantial meal had been despatched, our travellers repaired tothe livery-stable, to inspect in person the condition of their horses.The establishment was lighted with a single lamp, swung in the centre ofthe building. The approach of the two young gentlemen was not thereforeimmediately noticed by old Cato and another groom (who proved to be thecoachman of the equipage they had left on the road), as they were busilyengaged in rubbing down their horses, the dialogue between them was notbrought to a close at once.
"Who did you say the gentleman was?" said old Cato.
"His name is Brumley," replied coachee.
"And the young lady is his daughter, I suppose?" continued Cato.
"Oh! as to that, I cannot say," continued coachee, "but I believe she isonly his step-daughter; they calls her Miss Fanny St. Clair, andsometimes of late the old gentleman calls her Mrs. Frances; but betweenyou and me and the horse-stall, there is some strange things about thisfamily; I rather guess that Sukey, the maid up yonder, could tell ussomething that would make us open our eyes, if she was not so confoundedclose; all that I know about it is, that the harsh old gentlemansometimes gives her a talk in the carriage that throws her a'most into afaintin' spell. But I could never see into it, not I; I don't somehowbelieve in all these little hurrahs the women kicks up just forpastime."
Our travellers did not think proper to listen further to the gossip ofthe grooms, and having executed their business at the livery, theyretraced their steps to the splendid establishment at which they had putup. Notwithstanding the doubtful source from which Chevillere had gainedhis latest information concerning the singularly interesting young ladywhom they had seen at the inn, it made its impression. Corrupt indeedmust be that channel of information relative to a beautiful andattractive female, apparently in distress, which will not find anauditor in the person of a sensitive young man just emancipated fromcollege. On such occasions, and with such persons, the credibility ofall witnesses is the same, and the most improbable tale is taken atonce, and made the foundation of a whole train of reveries, dreams, andplans.
It is not to be denied that Victor Chevillere had worked his imaginationup to a very romantic height, and had allowed his curiosity concerningthe youthful lady to reach such a pitch that little else gave occupationto his fancies.
He was in this state of mind, leisurely marking time with lazy steps,and in an abstracted mood, as he ascended the grand staircase of theestablishment, when his attention was again riveted by the sound of thelady's voice in earnest entreaty with the old gentleman.
"Consider, my dear Frances," said the latter, "that your health is nownearly re-established, and that these are subjects that you must dwellupon; why not, therefore, become accustomed to it at once?"
"For heaven's sake! for my dear mother's! never, sir, mention thatfearful marriage, and more fearful death to me again! Why should Irecall hideous and frightful dreams!"
Chevillere was compelled to move on, but it must be confessed thathis steps were slower than before; and it may be readily imagined,that his fancy and his curiosity were not much allayed by the shredsof conversation which he had involuntarily overheard. When he hadascended to his own apartment, and could indulge freely in thatbachelor recreation of pacing to and fro, the two words stillinvoluntarily quickened his movements whenever they flashed through hismind---"marriage" and "death" were words of opposite import certainly,viewed in the abstract, and we doubt whether he had ever connected themtogether before;---"Fearful marriage! and more fearful death!" whatcould it mean? to whom could they refer? Only one of them could refer toher, that was certain; who then was married and died so fearfully? Ah!thought he, I have it! her mother has married this old man, and diedsuddenly; and he has got the fortune of both in his hands! Suspiciouscircumstance! If fortune puts it in my power, I will watch him narrowly!I disliked his countenance from the first!--must be cool, however, anddeliberate--must watch--and wait! pshaw, what am I at! Thus ended VictorChevillere's solution of the enigma, when Lamar stepped into the roomand disturbed his revery.
"What! still musing, Chevillere. By my troth, she must be a witch; butit will be glorious news to write to our friend Beverly Randolph, of oldVirginia. What say you? Shall I sit down and indite an epistle? Let mesee--how do such narratives generally begin? Cupid, and darts, andarrows--blind of an eye--shot right through the vitals of a poorinnocent youth that never did him any harm--never was struckbefore--covered with a panoply, and shield, and armour, and all that;and then worship prostrate before the shrine; and vows, and tears, andtokens; and then the dart is taken out--and the wound heals up--andthen--'Richard's himself again!' What say you to that, or rather whatwould Randolph say to that, think you?"
"He would say that Augustus Lamar was still the same mirth-lovingfellow, without regard to time or place."
"Then it is a serious affair, and too true to make a joke of! Well, thenI have done! She's a beautiful young creature, it is true; but then fromwhat I had seen of your cold philosophy, I did not think you were theman to be slain at first sight, and surrender at discretion before asingle charge."
"I will acknowledge to you, Lamar, that my curiosity is most painfullyexcited with regard to that unhappy young lady, but nothing more, Iassure you. Some facts have, without my seeking, come to my knowledge,with which you are entirely unacquainted, and which have tended greatlyto increase that curiosity. I cannot at this time explain; as soon as myown mind is satisfied on the subject, my confidence shall not bewithheld from you."
"Lovers are truly a singular set of mortals---here is a young lady (anda Yankee too, perhaps) of some dozen hours' acquaintance, and with whomyou have never exchanged a dozen words; and yet you are alreadyentrusted with profound secrets, which excite you in the most painfulmanner!"
"Come, come, Lamar, I see you are determined to misunderstand me. Let usdrop the subject. What do you think of the Kentuckian?"
"I think he is an admirable fellow; and I intend to patronise him; andinduct him into fashionable life; but do you think his singularities arethe natural products of the life, manners, and climate of Kentucky?"
"I cannot decide whether there is much in him that is peculiar toKentucky. Some of the most elegant and accomplished gentleman I haveseen were natives of that state."
"He takes a laugh at his expense admirably."
"He does, but you must be careful not to exceed the limits he has laiddown for himself and us, in that respect. For my own part, I entertain aserious respect for Damon and his unsophisticated honesty, degenerating,as it sometimes does, into prejudices and ludicrous fancies."
"Good night, and pleasant dreams to you. I will call early to interpretthem for you."
As Lamar closed the door, Chevillere drew from his pocket a littlebasket segar-case, from which he extracted a genuine Havana, andlighting a taper at the candle, and throwing himself into one of thoseeasy attitudes familiar to smokers, with his head back, and his eyesclosed, gave himself up to those absorbing reveries, generallydelightful in proportion to the goodness of the segar, which a southernknows so well how to enjoy. To be fully relished, segars should beresorted to only in the evening, and then in moderation. The sensibilityis blunted by excess, and in that case, tobacco, like the intoxicatingdrinks, will sometimes conjure up frightful images upon the wall of adimly-lighted chamber, or among the embers of a dying fire. Victor,however, had not converted his capacity for enjoyment into fruitfulsources of mental and physical suffering---he sat for a long time gentlythrowing the fragrant results of his efforts into various columns,wreaths, and pyramids. Not that his mind dwelt upon these things for amoment; he was far distant in spirit; his imagination was calling updelightful dreams of love and friendship, with thoughts of a belovedcousin, of his friend and room-mate Beverley Randolph--his mother, hishome, and the scenes of his childhood, and finally, of the lady of theblack mantle. He beheld airy castles,--romantic adventures,--bridalscenes--and flowers,--assemblies,--parties,--and the high hills of theSantee.
In this mood we shall leave him to seek his rest, while we recount inthe next chapter what farther befel our late collegians on the followingmorning.