Book Read Free

Alida; or, Miscellaneous Sketches of Incidents During the Late American War.

Page 36

by Frank V. Webster


  CHAPTER XXXIII.

  "On punit plus severement un ennemi par le mepris et par l'oubli, que par les chatimens les plus rigorieux: c'est, pour ainsi dire, le reduire au neant."

  The disagreeable facts so long in detail, had now taken a new turn forthe better, and Theodore and Alida were again in possession of more thanformer felicity, after their long separation. Alida soon began torecover in some degree her native cheerfulness, soothing the bosom ofher lover with her grief-dispersing smile. The unpleasant fears that hadsuch a length of time harrassed her mind, were now happily terminated bythe return of Theodore and the clearing up of all doubts and suspicionsconcerning him, to the utter confusion of Bonville. All her corrodinganxieties were now removed, and recent events had made her happy incomparison to what she was a few weeks before, and her presentconsolation fully compensated for all the preceding months ofunhappiness.

  Theodore was again happy in the society of Alida, the pensive sweetnessof her manner, her innate goodness, and amiability, which had attractedand secured the early affections of his heart, and made impressions thatcould never be obliterated. He gave a minute account of all that hadhappened, from the time they had parted until they had met again.

  He had visited the merchants in England with whom his father had beenconcerned in business, and he found as he expected, that he had beenoverreached by swindlers and sharpers. The pretended failure of themerchants with whom he was in company, was all a sham, as, also, thereported loss of the ships in their employ. The merchants had fled toEngland; he had them arrested, and they had given up their effects tomuch more than the amount of their debts. He therefore procured areversion of his father's losses, with costs, damages and interests,when legally stated.

  Theodore then made his next visit to Raymond's. His friends werejoyfully surprised at his arrival. He stayed the night and related along narrative to his friend. Early next day he proceeded from thence tohis father's house, where he arrived after a considerable journey.Theodore found his parents more happy than he expected. With abundantjoy they welcomed him whom they had given up for lost.

  Theodore then related to his father all the incidents that had happenedin England, minutely particularizing his conduct with regard to themerchants with whom his father had been connected, and then presentedhim with the reversion of the estate.

  The old gentleman fell on his knees, and with tears streaming down hischeeks, offered devout thanks to the great Dispenser of all mercies.

  In the meantime, the illness of Bonville had increased to an alarmingdegree. He sent for Theodore. He thought it his duty to attend thesummons. When he arrived at the house of Bonville he was shownimmediately into his apartment. He was surprised to see him stretched ona mattrass, his visage pale and emaciated, his countenance haggard, hiseyes inexpressive and glaring. He held out his hand and feebly beckonedto Theodore, who immediately approached the bed-side.

  "You behold me, Theodore," said he, "on the verge of eternity. I havebut a short time to continue in this world." He evidently appeared tohave suffered much from the remembrance of his ungenerous conducttowards Theodore.

  "I have caused much unhappiness between you and your Alida," saidBonville, "to which you will scarcely think it possible that I wasdesignedly accessory." He then confessed to Theodore that he hadintercepted his letters, and begged his forgiveness. "I could say muchmore on the subject would my strength admit," said he, "but it isneedless." Here Bonville ceased. Theodore found he wanted rest; medicalaid had been applied, but without effect. Theodore then left him,promising to call again next morning.

  He was startled at the confession of Bonville; he felt at firstindignant, and meditated what course to pursue. After due reflection,he at length made the decision.

  His devotions to Alida he did not wonder at. The pride of parentalattachment and nature had graced her with every charm andaccomplishment. He at length determined to cast a veil of pity over theactions of Bonville, and not to upbraid him, but to treat his pastconduct with silent contempt, and endeavour as far as possible, to burythe remembrance of his errors in oblivion. He called to see him nextmorning; he perceived an alarming alteration in his appearance. He wascold--a chilling sweat stood upon his face, his respiration was shortand interrupted, his pulse weak and intermitting. He took the hand ofTheodore and feebly pressed it. He soon fell into a stupor; sensationbecame suspended. Sometimes a partial revival would take place, when hewould fall into incoherent muttering, calling on the names of hisdeceased father, mother, and Alida. Towards night he lay silent, andonly continued to breathe with difficulty, when a slight convulsion gavehis freed spirit to the unknown regions of existence. Theodore attendedhis funeral, and then journeyed on to the dwelling of Albert. Heinformed Alida of the death of Bonville, and of his confession.

  At the mention of Bonville's fate, she sighed deeply. "It is true," saidshe, "he has perplexed me with many vain fears, by misrepresentation,but could he have lived, I would freely have forgiven him."

  He evidently fell a victim to disappointed pride and remorse at theremembrance of his own baseness.

 

‹ Prev