“Let him go out to Prospect; the people will teach him the law!”
“Perverse and obstinate simpleton!” cried Lionel, dragging him, without further ceremony, from the niche—“will you persevere in that foolish cry until you are whipped from regiment to regiment for your pains!”
“You promised Job the grannies shouldn’t beat him any more, and Job promised to run your ar’n’ds.”
“Ay! but unless you learn to keep silence, I shall forget my promise, and give you up to the anger of all the grannies in town.”
“Well,” said Job, brightening in his look, like a fool in his exultation, “they are half of them dead, at any rate; Job heard the biggest man among ’em roar like a ravenous lion, ‘hurrah for the royal Irish,’ but he never spoke ag’in; though there wasn’t any better rest for Job’s gun than a dead man’s shoulder!”
“Wretch!” cried Lionel, recoiling from him in horror, “are your hands stained with the blood of M’Fuse!”
“Job didn’t touch him with his hands,” returned the undisturbed simpleton—“for he died like a dog, where he fell!”
Lionel stood a moment in utter confusion of thought; but hearing the infallible evidence of the near approach of Polwarth in his tread, he said, in a hurried manner, and in a voice half choked—
“Go, fellow, go to Mrs. Lechmere’s, as I bid you—tell—tell Meriton to look to my fire.”
The lad made a motion towards obeying, but checking himself, he looked up into the face of the other with a piteous and suffering look, and said—
“See, Job’s numb with cold! Nab and Job can’t get wood now; the king keeps men to fight for it—let Job warm his flesh a little; his body is cold as the dead!”
Touched to the heart by the request, and the helpless aspect of the lad, Lionel made a silent signal of assent, and turned quickly to meet his friend. It was not necessary for Polwarth to speak, in order to apprise Major Lincoln that he had overheard part of the dialogue between him and Job. His countenance and attitude sufficiently betrayed his knowledge, as well as the effect it had produced on his feelings. He kept his eyes on the form of the simpleton, as the lad shuffled his way along the icy street, with an expression that could not easily be mistaken.
“Did I not hear the name of poor Dennis?” he asked.
“’Twas some of the idle boasting of the fool. But why are you not in the pew?”
“The fellow is a protégé of yours, Major Lincoln; but you may carry forbearance too far,” returned Polwarth, gravely. “I come for you, at the request of a pair of beautiful blue eyes, that have inquired of each one that has entered the church, this half-hour, where and why Major Lincoln has tarried.”
Lionel bowed his thanks, and affected to laugh at the humour of his friend, while they proceeded together to the pew of Mrs. Lechmere without further delay.
The painful reflections excited by this interview with Job, gradually vanished from the mind of Lionel, as he yielded to the influence of the solemn service of the church. He heard the difficult and suppressed breathing of the fair being who kneeled by his side, while the minister read those thanksgivings which personally concerned himself, and no little of earthly gratitude mingled with the aspirations of the youth. He caught the timid glance of the soft eye from behind the folds of Cecil’s veil, as they rose, and he took his seat, happy as an ardent young man might well be fancied, under the consciousness of possessing the best affections of a female so youthful, so lovely, and so pure.
Perhaps the service was not altogether so consoling to the feelings of Polwarth. As he recovered his solitary foot again, with some little difficulty, he cast a very equivocal glance at his dismembered person, hemmed aloud, and finished with a rattling of his wooden-leg about the pew, that attracted the eyes of the whole congregation, as if he intended the ears of all present should bear testimony in whose behalf their owners had uttered the extra thanksgivings.
The officiating minister was far too discreet to vex the attention of his superiors with any prolix and unwelcome exhibitions of the Christian’s duty. An impressive delivery of his text required one minute. Four were consumed in the exordium. The argument was ingeniously condensed into ten more; and the peroration of his essay was happily concluded in four minutes and a half; leaving him the satisfaction of knowing, as he was assured by fifty watches, and twice that number of contented faces, that he had accomplished his task by half a minute within the orthodox period.
For this exactitude he doubtless had his reward. Among other testimonials in his favour, when Polwarth shook his hand to thank him for his kind offices in his own behalf, he found room for a high compliment to the discourse, concluding by assuring the flattered divine, “that in addition to its other great merits, it was done in beautiful time!”
* In the frequent changes of these irregular bodies, the American army was more than once numerically inferior to those whom they besieged. [1832]
Chapter XX
“Away; let naught to love displeasing,
My Winifreda, move your care:
Let naught delay the heavenly blessing,
Nor squeamish pride, nor gloomy fear.”
Anonymous.
* * *
IT WAS PERHAPS fortunate for the tranquillity of all concerned, that during this period of their opening confidence, the person of Mrs. Lechmere came not between the bright image of purity and happiness that Cecil presented in each lineament and action, and the eyes of her lover. The singular, and somewhat contradictory interests that lady had so often betrayed in the movements of her young kinsman, were no longer visible to awaken his slumbering suspicions. Even those inexplicable scenes in which his aunt had so strangely been an actor, were forgotten in more engrossing feelings; or, if remembered at all, were only suffered to dim the pleasing pictures of his imagination, as an airy cloud throws its passing shadows across some cheerful and lovely landscape. In addition to those very natural auxiliaries, love and hope, the cause of Mrs. Lechmere had found a very powerful assistant, in the bosom of Lionel, through an accident which confined her for a long period, not only to her apartment, but to her bed.
On that day, when the critical operation was performed on the person of Major Lincoln, his aunt was known to have awaited the result in intense anxiety. As soon as the favourable termination was reported to her, she hastened towards his room with an unguarded eagerness, which, added to the general infirmities of her years, nearly cost the price of her life. Her foot became entangled in her train, in ascending the stairs, but disregarding the warning of Agnes Danforth, with that sort of reckless vehemence that sometimes broke through the formal decorum of her manners, she sustained, in consequence, a fall that might well have proved fatal to a much younger woman. The injury she received was severe and internal; and the inflammation, though not high, was sufficiently protracted to arouse the apprehensions of her attendants. The symptoms were, however, abating, and her recovery no longer a matter of question.
As Lionel heard this from the lips of Cecil, the reader will not imagine the effect produced by the interest his aunt took in his welfare, was at all lessened by the source whence he derived his knowledge. Notwithstanding Cecil dwelt on such a particular evidence of Mrs. Lechmere’s attachment to her nephew, with much earnestness, it had not escaped Major Lincoln that her name was but seldom introduced in their frequent conversations, and never, on the part of his companion, without a guarded delicacy that appeared sensitive in the extreme. As their confidence, however, increased with their hourly communications, he began gently to lift the veil which female reserve had drawn before her inmost feelings, and to read a heart whose purity and truth would have repaid a more difficult investigation.
When the party returned from the church, Cecil and Agnes immediately hastened to the apartment of the invalid, leaving Lionel in possession of the little wainscoted parlour by himself; Polwarth having proceeded to his own quarters, w
ith the assistance of the hunter. The young man passed a few minutes in pacing the room, musing deeply on the scene he had witnessed before the church; now and then casting a vacant look on the fanciful ornaments of the walls, among which the armorial bearings of his own name were so frequent, and in so honourable situations. At length he heard that light footstep approach, whose sound had now become too well known to be mistaken, and in another instant he was joined by Miss Dynevor.
“Mrs. Lechmere!” he said, leading her to a settee, and placing himself by her side; “you found her better, I trust?”
“So well that she intends adventuring, this morning, an interview with your own formidable self. Indeed, Lionel, you have every reason to be grateful for the deep interest my grandmother takes in your welfare! Ill as she has been, her inquiries in your behalf were ceaseless; and I have known her refuse to answer any questions about her own critical condition, until her physician had relieved her anxiety concerning yours.”
As Cecil spoke, tears rushed into her eyes, and her bloom deepened.
“It is to you, then, that much of my gratitude is due,” returned Lionel; “for by permitting me to blend my lot with yours, I find new value in her eyes. Have you acquainted Mrs. Lechmere with the full extent of my presumption? She knows of our engagement?”
“Could I do otherwise? while your life was in peril, I confined the knowledge of my interest in your situation to my own breast; but when we were flattered with the hopes of a recovery, I placed your letter in the hands of my natural adviser, and have the consolation of knowing that she approves of my—what shall I call it, Lionel—would not folly be the better word?”
“Call it what you will, so you do not disavow it. I have hitherto forborne inquiring into the views of Mrs. Lechmere, in tenderness to her situation; but I may flatter myself, Cecil, that she will not reject me?”
The blood rushed tumultuously over the fine countenance of Miss Dynevor, suffusing even her temples and forehead with its healthful bloom; but, as she cast a reproachful glance at her lover, it deserted even her cheeks, while she answered calmly, though with a slight exhibition of displeasure—
“It may have been the misfortune of my grandmother to view the head of her own family with too partial eyes; but, if it be so, her reward should not be distrust. The weakness is, I dare say, very natural, though not less a weakness.”
For the first time, Lionel fully comprehended the cause of that variable manner with which Cecil had received his attentions, until interest in his person had stilled her sensitive feelings. Without, however, betraying the least consciousness of his intelligence, he answered—
“Gratitude does not deserve so forbidding a name as distrust; nor will vanity permit me to call partiality in my favour a weakness.”
“The word is a good and a safe term as applied to poor human nature,” said Cecil, smiling once more, “and you may possibly overlook it when you recollect that our foibles are sometimes hereditary.”
“I pardon your unkind suspicion for that gentle acknowledgment. But I may now, without hesitation, apply to your grandmother for her consent to our immediate union?”
“You would not have your epithalamium sung, when, at the next moment, you may be required to listen to the dirge of some friend!”
“The very reason you urge against our marriage, induces me to press it, Cecil. As the season advances, this play of war must end. Howe will either break out of his bounds, and drive the Americans from the hills, or seek some other point for more active warfare. In either case you would be left in a distracted and divided country, at an age too tender for your own safety, rather the guardian than the ward of your helpless parent. Surely, Cecil, you would not hesitate to accept of my protection at such a crisis, I had almost dared to say, in tenderness to yourself, as well as to my feelings!”
“Say on,” she answered; “I admire your ingenuity, if not your argument. In the first place, however, I do not believe your general can drive the Americans from their posts so easily; for, by a very simple process in figures, that even I understand, you may find, if one hill costs so many hundred men, that the purchase of the whole would be too dear—nay, Lionel, do not look so grave, I implore you! Surely, surely, you do not think I would speak idly of a battle that had nearly cost your life, and—and—my happiness.”
“Say on,” said Lionel, instantly dismissing the cloud from his brow, and smiling fondly on her; “I admire your casuistry, and worship your feeling; but can, also, deny your argument.”
Reassured by his manner, after a moment of extreme agitation, she continued—
“But we will suppose all the hills won, and the American chief, Washington, who, though nothing but a rebel, is a very respectable one, driven into the country with his army at his heels; I trust it is to be done without the assistance of the women? Or, should Howe remove his force, as you intimate, will he not leave the town behind him? In either case I should remain quietly where I am; safe in a British garrison, or safer still among my countrymen.”
“Cecil, you are alike ignorant of the dangers and of the rude lawlessness of war! Though Howe should abandon the place, ’twould be only for a time; believe me, the ministry will never yield the possession of a town like this, which has so long dared their power, to men in arms against their lawful prince.”
“You have strangely forgotten the last six months, Lionel, or you would not accuse me of ignorance of the misery that war can inflict!”
“A thousand thanks for the kind admission, dearest Cecil, as well as for the hint,” said the young man, shifting the ground of his argument with the consistency, as well as the readiness of a lover; “you have owned your sentiments to me, and would not refuse to avow them again?”
“Not to one whose self-esteem will induce him to forget the weakness; but, perhaps, I might hesitate to do so silly a thing before the world.”
“I will then put it to your heart,” he continued, without regarding the coquetry she had affected. “Believing the best, you will admit that another battle would be no strange occurrence?”
She raised her anxious look to his face, but remained silent.
“We both know—at least I know, from sad experience, that I am far from being invulnerable. Now, answer me, Cecil, not as a female struggling to support the pride of her sex, but as a woman, generous and full of heart, like yourself—were the events of the last six months to recur, whether would you live them over, affianced in secret, or as an acknowledged wife, who might not blush to show her tenderness to the world?”
It was not until the large drops that glistened at his words upon the dark lashes of Miss Dynevor, were shaken from the tremulous fringes that concealed her eyes, that she looked up—
“Do you not then think, that I endured enough, as one who felt herself betrothed, but that closer ties were necessary to fill the measure of my suffering?”
“I cannot even thank you as I would for those flattering tears, until the question is plainly answered.”
“Is this altogether generous, Lincoln?”
“Perhaps not in appearance, but sincerely so in truth. Cecil, I would shelter and protect you from a rude contact with the world, even as I seek my own happiness!”
Miss Dynevor was not only confused, but distressed; she, however, said, in a low voice—
“You forget, Major Lincoln, that I have one to consult, without whose approbation I can promise nothing.”
“Will you, then, refer the question to her wisdom? Should Mrs. Lechmere approve of our immediate union, may I say to her, that you authorize me to ask it?”
Cecil said nothing; but smiling through her tears, she permitted Lionel to take her hand in a manner that a much less sanguine man would have found no difficulty in construing into assent.
“Come, then,” he cried; “let us hasten to the apartment of Mrs. Lechmere; did you not say she expected me?” She suffered him to dra
w her arm through his own, and lead her from the room. Notwithstanding the buoyant hopes with which Lionel conducted his companion through the passages of the house, he did not approach the chamber of Mrs. Lechmere without some inward repugnance. It was not possible to forget entirely all that had so recently passed, or to still, effectually, those dark suspicions which had been once awakened within his bosom. His purpose, however, bore him onward, and a glance at the trembling being who now absolutely leaned on him for support, drove every consideration, in which she did not form a most prominent part, from his mind.
The enfeebled appearance of the invalid, with a sudden recollection that she had sustained so much, in consequence of her anxiety in his own behalf, so far aided the cause of his aunt, that the young man not only met her with cordiality, but with a feeling akin to gratitude.
The indisposition of Mrs. Lechmere had now continued for several weeks, and her features, aged and sunken as they were by the general decay of nature, afforded strong additional testimony of the severity of her recent illness. Her face, besides being paler and more emaciated than usual, had caught that anxious expression which great and protracted bodily ailing is apt to leave on the human countenance. Her brow was, however, smooth and satisfied, unless, at moments, when a slight and involuntary play of the muscles betrayed that fleeting pains continued, at short intervals, to remind her of her illness. She received her visiters with a smile that was softer and more conciliating than usual, and which the pallid and care-worn appearance of her features rendered deeply impressive.
The Spy & Lionel Lincoln Page 77