CHAPTER VIII.
WARDLAW was at home before this with his hands full of business; and itis time the reader should be let into one secret at least, which thismerchant had contrived to conceal from the City of London, and from hisown father, and from every human creature, except one poor, simple,devoted soul, called Michael Penfold.
There are men, who seem stupid, yet generally go right; there are alsoclever men, who appear to have the art of blundering wisely--_"sapienterdescendunt in infernum,"_ as the ancients have it; and some of theselatter will even lie on their backs, after a fall, and lift up theirvoices, and prove to you that in the nature of things they ought to havegone up, and their being down is monstrous; illusory.
Arthur Wardlaw was not quite so clever as all that. Still he misconductedthe business of the firm with perfect ability from the first month heentered on it. Like those ambitious railways which ruin a goodly trunkwith excess of branches, not to say twigs, he set to work extending, andextending, and sent the sap of the healthy old concern flying to the endsof the earth.
He was not only too ambitious, and not cool enough; he was also unlucky,or under a curse, or something; for things well conceived broke down, inhis hands, under petty accidents. And, besides, his new correspondentsand agents hit him cruelly hard. Then what did he? Why, shot good moneyafter bad, and lost both. He could not retrench, for his game wasconcealment; his father was kept in the dark, and drew his four thousanda year, as usual, and, upon any hesitation in that respect, would havecalled in an accountant and wound up the concern. But this tax upon thereceipts, though inconvenient, was a trifle compared with the series ofheavy engagements that were impending. The future was so black thatWardlaw junior was sore tempted to realize twenty thousand pounds, whicha man in his position could easily do, and fly the country. But thiswould have been to give up Helen Rolleston; and he loved her too well.His brain was naturally subtle and fertile in expedients; so he broughtall its powers to bear on a double problem--how to marry Helen andrestore the concern he had mismanaged to its former state. For this alarge sum of money was needed, not less than ninety thousand pounds.
The difficulties were great; but he entered on this project with twoadvantages. In the first place, he enjoyed excellent credit; in thesecond, he was not disposed to be scrupulous. He had been cheated severaltimes; and nothing undermines feeble rectitude more than that. Such a manas Wardlaw is apt to establish a sort of account current with humanity.
"Several fellow-creatures have cheated me. Well, I must get as much back,by hook or by crook, from several fellow-creatures."
After much hard thought he conceived his double master-stroke. And it wasto execute this he went out to Australia.
We have seen that he persuaded Helen Rolleston to come to England and bemarried; but, as to the other part of his project, that is a matter forthe reader to watch, as it develops itself.
His first act of business, on reaching England, was to insure thefreights of the _Proserpine_ and the _Shannon._
He sent Michael Penfold to Lloyds', with the requisite vouchers,including the receipts of the gold merchants. Penfold easily insured the_Shannon,_ whose freight was valued at only six thousand pounds. The_Proserpine,_ with her cargo, and a hundred and thirty thousand pounds ofspecie to boot, was another matter. Some underwriters had an objection tospecie, being subject to theft as well as shipwreck; other underwriters,applied to by Penfold, acquiesced; others called on Wardlaw himself, toask a few questions, and he replied to them courteously, but with acertain nonchalance, treating it as an affair which might be big to them,but was not of particular importance to a merchant doing business on hisscale.
To one underwriter, Condell, with whom he was on somewhat intimate terms,he said, "I wish I could insure the _Shannon_ at her value; but that isimpossible. The City of London could not do it. The _Proserpine_ bringsme some cases of specie, but my true treasure is on board the _Shannon._She carries my bride, sir."
"Oh, indeed! Miss Rolleston."
"Ah, I remember; you have seen her. Then you will not be surprised at aproposal I shall make you. Underwrite the _Shannon_ a million pounds, tobe paid by you if harm befalls my Helen. You need not look so astonished;I was only joking; you gentlemen deal with none but substantial values;and, as for me, a million would no more compensate me for losing her,than for losing my own life."
The tears were in his pale eyes as he said these words; and Mr. Condelleyed him with sympathy. But he soon recovered himself, and was the man ofbusiness again. "Oh, the specie on board the _Proserpine?_ Well, I was inAustralia, you know, and bought that specie myself of the merchants whosenames are attached to the receipts. I deposited the cases with White &Co., at Sydney. Penfold will show you the receipt. I instructed JosephWylie, mate of the _Proserpine,_ and a trustworthy person, to see themstowed away in the _Proserpine,_ by White & Co. Hudson is a good seaman;and the _Proserpine_ a new ship, built by Mare. We have nothing to fearbut the ordinary perils of the sea."
"So one would think," said Mr. Condell, and took his leave; but, at thedoor he hesitated, and then, looking down a little sheepishly, said, "Mr.Wardlaw, may I offer you a piece of advice?"
"Certainly."
Then, double the insurance on the _Shannon,_ if you can.
With these words he slipped out, evidently to avoid questions he did notintend to answer.
Wardlaw stared after him, stupidly at first, and then stood up and puthis hand to his head in a sort of amazement. Then he sat down again, ashypale, and with the dew on his forehead, and muttered faintly,"Double--the insurance--of the--_Shannon!"_
Men who walk in crooked paths are very subject to such surprises; doomed,like Ahab, to be pierced, through the joints of their armor, by randomshafts; by words uttered in one sense, but conscience interprets them inanother.
It took a good many underwriters to insure the _Proserpine's_ freight;but the business was done at last.
Then Wardlaw, who had feigned insouciance so admirably in that part ofhis interview with Condell, went, without losing an hour, and raised alarge sum of money on the insured freight, to meet the bills that werecoming due for the gold (for he had paid for most of it in paper at shortdates), and also other bills that were approaching maturity. This done,he breathed again, safe for a month or two from everything short of ageneral panic, and full of hope from his coming master-stroke. But twomonths soon pass when a man has a flock of kites in the air. Pass? Theyfly. So now he looked out anxiously for his Australian ships; and went toLloyds' every day to hear if either had been seen or heard of bysteamers, or by faster vessels than themselves.
And, though Condell had underwritten the _Proserpine_ to the tune ofeight thousand pounds, yet still his mysterious words rang strangely inthe merchant's ears, and made him so uneasy that he employed a discreetperson to sound Condell as to what he meant by "double the insurance ofthe _Shannon."_
It turned out to be the simplest affair in the world; Condell had secretinformation that the _Shannon_ was in bad repairs, so he had advised hisfriend to insure her heavily. For the same reason, he declined tounderwrite her freight himself.
With respect to those ships, our readers already know two things, ofwhich Wardlaw himself, _nota bene,_ had no idea; namely, that the_Shannon_ had sailed last, instead of first, and that Miss Rolleston wasnot on board of her, but in the _Proserpine,_ two thousand miles ahead.
To that, your superior knowledge, we, posters of the sea and land, areabout to make a large addition, and relate things strange, but true.While that anxious and plotting merchant strains his eyes seaward, tryinghard to read the future, we carry you, in a moment of time, across thePacific, and board the leading vessel, the good ship _Proserpine,_homeward bound.
The ship left Sydney with a fair wind, but soon encountered adverseweather, and made slow progress, being close hauled, which was her worstpoint of sailing. She pitched a good deal, and that had a very ill effecton Miss Rolleston. She was not seasick, but thoroughly out of sorts. And,in one week, became p
erceptibly paler and thinner than when she started.
The young clergyman, Mr. Hazel, watched her with respectful anxiety, andthis did not escape her feminine observation. She noted quietly thatthose dark eyes of his followed her with a mournful tenderness, butwithdrew their gaze when she looked at him. Clearly, he was interested inher, but had no desire to intrude upon her attention. He would bring upthe squabs for her, and some of his own wraps, when she stayed on deck,and was prompt with his arm when the vessel lurched; and showed her thoseother little attentions which are called for on board ship, but without aword. Yet, when she thanked him in the simplest and shortest way, hisgreat eyes flashed with pleasure, and the color mounted to his verytemples.
Engaged young ladies are, for various reasons, more sociable with theother sex than those who are still on the universal mock-defensive. Aship, like a distant country, thaws even English reserve, and women ingeneral are disposed to admit ecclesiastics to certain privileges. Nowonder then that Miss Rolleston, after a few days, met Mr. Hazelhalf-way; and they made acquaintance on board the _Proserpine,_ inmonosyllables at first; but, the ice once fairly broken, the intercourseof mind became rather rapid.
At first it was a mere intellectual exchange, but one very agreeable toMiss Rolleston; for a fine memory, and omnivorous reading from his veryboyhood, with the habit of taking notes, and reviewing them, had made Mr.Hazel a walking dictionary, and a walking essayist if required.
But when it came to something which, most of all, the young lady hadhoped from this temporary acquaintance, viz., religious instruction, shefound him indeed as learned on that as on other topics, but cold anddevoid of unction. So much so, that one day she said to him, "I canhardly believe you have ever been a missionary." But at that he seemed sodistressed that she was sorry for him, and said, sweetly, "Excuse me, Mr.Hazel, my remark was in rather bad taste, I fear."
"Not at all," said he. "Of course I am unfit for missionary work, or Ishould not be here."
Miss Rolleston took a good look at him, but said nothing. However, hisreply and her perusal of his countenance satisfied her that he was a manwith very little petty vanity and petty irritability.
One day they were discoursing of gratitude; and Mr. Hazel said he had apoor opinion of those persons who speak of the burden of gratitude, andmake a fuss about being "laid under an obligation."
"As for me," said he, "I have owed such a debt, and found the sense of itvery sweet."
"But perhaps you were always hoping to make a return," said Helen.
"That I was. Hoping against hope."
"Do you think people are grateful, in general?"
"No, Miss Rolleston, I do not."
"Well, I think they are. To me at least. Why, I have experiencedgratitude even in a convict. It was a poor man, who had been transported,for something or other, and he begged papa to take him for his gardener.Papa did, and he was so grateful that, do you know, he suspected ourhouse was to be robbed, and he actually watched in the garden night afternight. And, what do you think? the house was attacked by a whole gang;but poor Mr. Seaton confronted them and shot one, and was woundedcruelly; but he beat them off for us; and was not that gratitude?"
While she was speaking so earnestly, Mr. Hazel's blood seemed to runthrough his veins like heavenly fire, but he said nothing, and the ladyresumed with gentle fervor, "Well, we got him a clerk's place in ashipping-office, and heard no more of him; but he did not forget us; mycabin here was fitted up with every comfort and every delicacy. I thankedpapa for it; but he looked so blank I saw directly he knew nothing aboutit, and, now I think of it, it was Mr. Seaton. I am positive it was. Poorfellow! And I should not even know him if I saw him."
Mr. Hazel observed, in a low voice, that Mr. Seaton's conduct did notseem wonderful to him. "Still," said he, "one is glad to find there issome good left even in a criminal."
"A criminal!" cried Helen Rolleston, firing up. "Pray, who says he was acriminal? Mr. Hazel, once for all, no friend of mine ever deserves such aname as that. A friend of mine may commit some great error or imprudence;but that is all. The poor grateful soul was never guilty of any downrightwickedness. _That stands to reason."_
Mr. Hazel did not encounter this feminine logic with his usual ability;he muttered something or other, with a trembling lip, and left her soabruptly that she asked herself whether she had inadvertently saidanything that could have offended him; and awaited an explanation. Butnone came. The topic was never revived by Mr. Hazel; and his manner, attheir next meeting, showed he liked her none the worse that she stood upfor her friends.
The wind steady from the west for two whole days, and the _Proserpine_showed her best sailing qualities, and ran four hundred and fifty milesin that time.
Then came a dead calm, and the sails flapped lazily and the mastsdescribed an arc; and the sun broiled; and the sailors whistled; and thecaptain drank; and the mate encouraged him.
During this calm Miss Rolleston fell downright ill, and quitted the deck.Then Mr. Hazel was very sad; borrowed all the books in the ship and readthem, and took notes; and when he had done this he was at leisure to readmen, and so began to study Hiram Hudson, Joseph Wylie, and others, andtake a few notes about them.
From these we select some that are better worth the reader's attentionthan anything we could relate in our own persons at this stagnant part ofthe story.
PASSAGES FROM MR. HAZEL'S DIARY.
"CHARACTERS ON BOARD THE 'PROSERPINE.'
"There are two sailors, messmates, who have formed an antique friendship;their names are John Welch and Samuel Cooper. Welch is a very able seamanand a chatterbox. Cooper is a good sailor, but very silent; only what hedoes say is much to the purpose.
"The gabble of Welch is agreeable to the silent Cooper; and Welch admiresCooper's taciturnity.
"I asked Welch what made him like Cooper so much. And he said, 'Why, yousee, sir, he is my messmate, for one thing, and a seaman that knows hiswork; and then he has been well eddycated, and he knows when to hold histongue, does Sam.'
"I asked Cooper why he was so fond of Welch. He only grunted in an uneasyway at first; but, when I pressed for a reply, he let out twowords--'Capital company'; and got away from me.
"Their friendship, though often roughly expressed, is really a tender andtouching sentiment. I think either of these sailors would bare his backand take a dozen lashes in place of his messmate. I too once thought Ihad made such a friend. Eheu!
"Both Cooper and Welch seem, by their talk, to consider the ship a livingcreature. Cooper chews. Welch only smokes, and often lets his pipe out;he is so voluble.
"Captain Hudson is quite a character, or, I might say, two characters;for he is one man when he is sober, and another when he is the worse forliquor; and that, I am sorry to see, is very often. Captain Hudson,sober, is a rough, bearish seaman, with a quick, experienced eye, thattakes in every rope in the ship, as he walks up and down hisquarter-deck. He either evades or bluntly declines conversation, andgives his whole mind to sailing his ship.
"Captain Hudson, drunk, is a garrulous man, who seems to have driftedback into the past. He comes up to you and talks of his own accord, andalways about himself, and what he did fifteen or twenty years since. Heforgets whatever has occurred half an hour ago; and his eye, which was aneagle's, is now a mole's. He no longer sees what his sailors are doingalow or aloft; to be sure he no longer cares; his present ship may takecare of herself while he is talking of his past ones. But the surestindicia of inebriety in Hudson are these two. First, his nose is red.Secondly, he discourses upon a seaman's _duty to his employers._ Ebriusrings the changes on his 'duty to his employers' till drowsiness attackshis hearers. _Cicero de officiis_ was all very well at a certain periodof one's life, but _bibulus nauta de officiis_ is rather too much.
"N. B.--Except when his nose is red not a word about his 'duty to hisemployers.' That phrase, like a fine lady, never ventures into themorning air. It is purely post-prandial, and sacred to occasions when heis utterly neglecting his dut
y to his employers, and to everybody else.
"All this is ridiculous enough, but somewhat alarming. To think that_her_ precious life should be intrusted to the care and skill of sounreliable a captain!
"Joseph Wylie, the mate, is less eccentric but even more remarkable. Heis one of those powerfully built fellows whom Nature, one would think,constructed to gain all their ends by force and directness. But no suchthing; he goes about as softly as a cat; is always popping out of holesand corners; and I can see he watches me and tries to hear what I say toher. He is civil to me when I speak to him; yet I notice he avoids mequietly. Altogether, there is something about him that puzzles me. Whywas he so reluctant to let me on board as a passenger? Why did he tell adownright falsehood? For he said there was no room for me; yet, even now,there are two cabins vacant, and he has taken possession of them.
"The mate of this ship has several barrels of spirits in his cabin, orrather cabins, and it is he who makes the captain drunk. I learned thisfrom one of the boys. This looks ugly. I fear Wylie is a bad, designingman, who wishes to ruin the captain, and so get his place. But, meantime,the ship might be endangered by this drunkard's misconduct. I shall watchWylie closely, and perhaps put the captain on his guard against thisfalse friend.
"Last night, a breeze got up about sunset, and H. R. came on deck forhalf an hour. I welcomed her as calmly as I could: but I felt my voicetremble and my heart throb. She told me the voyage tired her much; but itwas the last she should have to make. How strange, how hellish (Godforgive me for saying so!) it seems that _she_ should love _him._ But,does she love him? Can she love him? Could she love him if she knew all?Know him she shall before she marries him. For the present, be still, myheart.
"She soon went below and left me desolate. I wandered all about the ship,and, at last, I came upon the inseparables, Welch and Cooper. They weresquatted on the deck, and Welch's tongue was going as usual. He wastalking about this Wylie, and saying that, in all his ships, he had neverknown such a mate as this; why, the captain was under his thumb, he thengave a string of captains, each of whom would have given his mate a rounddozen at the gangway, if he had taken so much on him as this one does.
"'Grog!' suggested Cooper, in extenuation.
"Welch admitted Wylie was liberal with that, and friendly enough with themen; but, still, he preferred to see a ship commanded by the captain, andnot by a lubber like Wylie.
"I expressed some surprise at this term, and said I had envied Wylie'snerves in a gale of wind we encountered early in the voyage.
"The talking sailor explained, 'In course, he has been to sea afore this,and weathered many a gale. But so has the cook. That don't make a man asailor. You ask him how to send down a to'-gallant yard or gammon abowsprit, or even mark a lead line, and he'll stare at ye like Old Nick,when the angel caught him with the red-hot tongs, and questioned him outof the Church Catechism. Ask Sam there if ye don't believe me. Sam, whatdo you think of this Wylie for a seaman?'
"Cooper could not afford anything so precious, in his estimate of things,as a word; but he lifted a great brawny hand, and gave a snap with hisfinger and thumb that disposed of the mate's pretensions to seamanshipmore expressively than words could have done it.
"The breeze has freshened, and the ship glides rapidly through the water,bearing us all homeward. H. R. has resumed her place upon the deck; andall seems bright again. I ask myself how we existed without the sight ofher.
"This morning the wind shifted to the southwest; the captain surprised usby taking in sail. But his sober eye had seen something more than ours;for at noon it blew a gale, and by sunset it was deemed prudent to bringthe ship's head to the wind, and we are now lying to. The ship lurches,and the wind howls through the bare rigging; but she rides buoyantly, andno danger is apprehended.
"Last night, as I lay in my cabin, unable to sleep, I heard some heavyblows strike the ship's side repeatedly, causing quite a vibration. Ifelt alarmed, and went out to tell the captain. But I was obliged to goon my hands and knees, such was the force of the wind. Passing the mate'scabin, I heard sounds that made me listen acutely; and I then found theblows were being struck inside the ship. I got to the captain and toldhim. 'Oh,' said he, 'ten to one it's the mate nailing down his chests, orthe like.' But I assured him the blows struck the side of the ship, and,at my earnest request, he came out and listened. He swore a great oath,and said the lubber would be through the ship's side. He then tried thecabin door, but it was locked.
"The sounds ceased directly.
"We called to the mate, but received no reply for a long time. At lastWylie came out of the gun-room, looking rather pale, and asked what wasthe matter.
"I told him he ought to know best, for the blows were heard where he hadjust come from.
"'Blows!' said he; 'I believe you. Why, a tierce of butter had gotadrift, and was bumping up and down the hold like thunder.' He then askedus whether that was what we had disturbed him for, entered his cabin, andalmost slammed the door in our faces.
"I remarked to the captain on his disrespectful conduct. The captain wascivil, and said I was right; he was a cross-grained, unmanageable brute,and he wished he was out of the ship. 'But you see, sir, he has got theear of the merchant ashore; and so I am obliged to hold a candle to theDevil, as the saying is.' He then fired a volley of oaths and abuse atthe offender; and, not to encourage foul language, I retired to my cabin.
"The wind declined toward daybreak, and the ship recommenced her voyageat 8 A. M.; but under treble reefed topsails and reefed courses.
"I caught the captain and mate talking together in the friendliest waypossible. That Hudson is a humbug; there is some mystery between him andthe mate.
"To-day H. R. was on deck for several hours, conversing sweetly andlooking like the angel she is. But happiness soon flies from me; asteamer came in sight, bound for Sydney. She signaled us to heave to, andsend a boat. This was done, and the boat brought back a letter for her.It seems they took us for the _Shannon,_ in which ship she was expected.
"The letter was from _him._ How her cheek flushed and her eye beamed asshe took it! And, oh, the sadness, the agony, that stood beside herunheeded.
"I left the deck; I could not have contained myself. What a thing iswealth! By wealth, that wretch can stretch out his hand across the ocean,and put a letter into her hand under my very eye. Away goes all that Ihave gained by being near her while he is far away. He is not in Englandnow--he is here. His odious presence has driven me from her. Oh, that Icould be a child again, or in my grave, to get away from this Hell ofLove and Hate."
At this point, we beg leave to take the narrative into our own handsagain.
Mr. Hazel actually left the deck to avoid the sight of Helen Rolleston'sflushed cheek and beaming eyes, reading Arthur Wardlaw's letter.
And here we may as well observe that he retired not merely because thetorture was hard to bear. He had some disclosures to make, on reachingEngland; but his good sense told him this was not the time or the placeto make them, nor Helen Rolleston the person to whom, in the firstinstance, they ought to be made.
While he tries to relieve his swelling heart by putting its throbs onpaper (and, in truth, this is some faint relief, for want of which many aless unhappy man than Hazel has gone mad), let us stay by the lady'sside, and read her letter with her.
"RUSSELL SQUARE, Dec. 15, 1865.
"MY DEAR LOVE--Hearing that the _Antelope_ steam-packet was going toSydney, by way of Cape Horn, I have begged the captain, who is under someobligations to me, to keep a good lookout for the _Shannon,_ homewardbound, and board her with these lines, weather permitting.
"Of course the chances are you will not receive them at sea; but stillyou possibly may; and my heart is so full of you, I seize any excuse foroverflowing; and then I picture to myself that bright face reading anunexpected letter in mid-ocean, and so I taste beforehand the greatestpleasure my mind can conceive--the delight of giving you pleasure, my ownsweet Helen.
"News, I have little. You k
now how deeply and devotedly you arebeloved--know it so well that I feel words are almost wasted in repeatingit Indeed, the time, I hope, is at hand when the word 'love' will hardlybe mentioned between us. For my part, I think it will be too visible inevery act, and look, and word of mine, to need repetition. We do notspeak much about the air we live in. We breathe it, and speak with it,not of it.
"I suppose all lovers are jealous. I think I should go mad if you were togive me a rival; but then I do not understand that ill-natured jealousywhich would rob the beloved object of all affections but the one. I knowmy Helen loves her father--loves him, perhaps, as well, or better, thanshe does me. Well, in spite of that, I love him too. Do you know, I neversee that erect form, that model of courage and probity, come into a room,but I say to myself, 'Here comes my benefactor; but for this man therewould be no Helen in the world.' Well, dearest, an unexpectedcircumstance has given me a little military influence (these things dohappen in the City); and I really believe that, what with hisacknowledged merits (I am secretly informed a very high personage said,the other day, he had not received justice), and the influence I speakof, a post will shortly be offered to your father that will enable him tolive, henceforth, in England, with comfort, I might say, affluence.Perhaps he might live with us. That depends upon himself.
"Looking forward to this, and my own still greater happiness, diverts mymind awhile from the one ever-pressing anxiety. But, alas! it willreturn. By this time my Helen is on the seas--the terrible, thetreacherous, the cruel seas, that spare neither beauty nor virtue, northe longing hearts at home. I have conducted this office for some years,and thought I knew care and anxiety. But I find I knew neither till now.
"I have two ships at sea, the _Shannon_ and the _Proserpine._ The_Proserpine_ carries eighteen chests of specie, worth a hundred andthirty thousand pounds. I don't care one straw whether she sinks orswims. But the _Shannon_ carries my darling; and every gust at nightawakens me, and every day I go into the great room at Lloyd's and watchthe anemometer. O, God! be merciful, and bring my angel safe to me! O,God! be just, and strike her not for my offenses!
"Besides the direct perils of the sea are some others you might escape byprudence. Pray avoid the night air, for my sake, who could not live ifany evil befell you; and be careful in your diet. You were not looking sowell as usual when I left. Would I had words to make you know your ownvalue. Then you would feel it a _duty_ to be prudent.
"But I must not sadden you with my fears; let me turn to my hopes. Howbright they are! what joy, what happiness, is sailing toward me, nearerand nearer every day! I ask myself what am I that such paradise should bemine.
"My love, when we are one, shall we share every thought, or shall I keepcommerce, speculation, and its temptations away from your pure spirit?Sometimes I think I should like to have neither thought nor occupationunshared by you; and that you would purify trade itself by your contact;at other times I say to myself, 'Oh, never soil that angel with yourmiserable business; but go home to her as if you were going from earth toheaven, for a few blissful hours.' But you shall decide this question,and every other.
"Must I close this letter? Must I say no more, though I have scarcelybegun?
"Yes, I will end, since, perhaps, you will never see it.
"When I have sealed it, I mean to hold it in my clasped hands, and sopray the Almighty to take it safe to you, and to bring you safe to himwho can never know peace nor joy till he sees you once more.
"Your devoted and anxious lover,
"ARTHUR WARDLAW."
Helen Rolleston read this letter more than once. She liked it none theless for being disconnected and unbusiness-like. She had seen herArthur's business letters; models of courteous conciseness. She did notvalue such compositions. This one she did. She smiled over it, allbeaming and blushing; she kissed it, and read it again, and sat with itin her lap.
But by and by her mood changed, and, when Mr. Hazel ventured upon deckagain, he found her with her forehead sinking on her extended arm, andthe lax hand of that same arm holding the letter. She was crying.
The whole drooping attitude was so lovely, so feminine, yet so sad, thatHazel stood irresolute, looking wistfully at her.
She caught sight of him, and, by a natural impulse, turned gently away,as if to hide her tears. But the next moment she altered her mind, andsaid, with a quiet dignity that came naturally to her at times, "Whyshould I hide my care from you, sir? Mr. Hazel, may I speak to you _as aclergyman?"_
"Certainly," said Mr. Hazel, in a somewhat faint voice.
She pointed to a seat, and he sat down near her.
She was silent for some time; her lip quivered a little; she wasstruggling inwardly for that decent composure which on certain occasionsdistinguishes the lady from the mere woman; and it was with a pretty firmvoice she said what follows:
"I am going to tell you a little secret; one I have kept from my ownfather. It is--that I have not very long to live."
Her hazel eye rested calmly on his face while she said these wordsquietly.
He received them with amazement at first; amazement that soon deepenedinto horror. "What do you mean?" he gasped. "What words are these?"
"Thank you for minding so much," said she sweetly. "I will tell you. Ihave fits of coughing, not frequent, but violent; and then blood veryoften comes from my lungs. That is a bad sign, you know. I have been sofor four months now, and I am a good deal wasted; my hand used to be veryplump; look at it now. Poor Arthur!"
She turned away her head to drop a gentle, unselfish tear or two; andHazel stared with increasing alarm at the lovely but wasted hand shestill held out to him, and glanced, too, at Arthur Wardlaw's letter, heldslightly by the beloved fingers.
He said nothing, and, when she looked round, again, he was pale andtrembling. The revelation was so sudden.
"Pray be calm, sir," said she. "We need speak of this no more. But now, Ithink, you will not be surprised that I come to you for religious adviceand consolation, short as our acquaintance is."
"I am in no condition to give them," said Hazel, in great agitation. "Ican think of nothing but how to save you. May Heaven help me, and give mewisdom for that."
"This is idle," said Helen Rolleston, gently but firmly. "I have had thebest advice for months, and I get worse; and, Mr. Hazel, I shall never bebetter. So aid me to bow to the will of Heaven. Sir, I do not repine atleaving the world; but it does grieve me to think how my departure willaffect those whose happiness is very, very dear to me."
She then looked at the letter, blushed, and hesitated a moment; but endedby giving it to him whom she had applied to as her religious adviser.
"Oblige me by reading that. And, when you have, I think you will grant mea favor I wish to ask you. Poor fellow! so full of hopes that I am doomedto disappoint."
She rose to hide her emotion, and left Arthur Wardlaw's letter in thehands of him who loved her, if possible, more devotedly than ArthurWardlaw did; and she walked the deck pensively, little dreaming howstrange a thing she had done.
As for Hazel, he was in a situation poignant with agony; only the heavyblow that had just fallen had stunned and benumbed him. He felt a naturalrepugnance to read this letter. But she had given him no choice. He readit. In reading it he felt a mortal sickness come over him, but hepersevered; he read it carefully to the end, and he was examining thesignature keenly, when Miss Rolleston rejoined him, and, taking theletter from him, placed it in her bosom before his eyes.
"He loves me; does he not?" said she wistfully.
Hazel looked half stupidly in her face for a moment; then, with a candorwhich was part of his character, replied, doggedly, "Yes, the man whowrote that letter loves you."
"Then you can pity him, and I may venture to ask you the favor to-- Itwill be a bitter grief and disappointment to him. Will you break it tohim as gently as you can; will you say that his Helen-- Will you tell himwhat I have told you?"
"I decline."
This point-blank refusal surprised Helen Rolleston
; all the more that itwas uttered with a certain sullenness, and even asperity, she had neverseen till then in this gentle clergyman.
It made her fear she had done wrong in asking it; and she looked ashamedand distressed.
However, the explanation soon followed.
"My business," said he, "is to prolong your precious life; and making upyour mind to die is not the way. You shall have no encouragement in suchweakness from me. Pray let me be your physician."
"Thank you," said Helen, coldly; "I have my own physician."
"No doubt; but he shows me his incapacity by allowing you to live onpastry and sweets, things that are utter poison to you. Disease of thelungs is curable, but not by drugs and unwholesome food."
"Mr. Hazel," said the lady, "we will drop the subject, if you please. Ithas taken an uninteresting turn."
"To you, perhaps; but not to me."
"Excuse me, sir; if you took that real friendly interest in me and mycondition I was vain enough to think you might, you would hardly haverefused me the first favor I ever asked you; and," drawing herself upproudly, "need I say the last?"
"You are unjust," said Hazel, sadly; "unjust beyond endurance. I refuseyou anything that is for your good? I, who would lay down my life withunmixed joy for you?"
"Mr. Hazel!" And she drew back from him with a haughty stare.
"Learn the truth why I cannot, and will not, talk to Arthur Wardlaw aboutyou. For one thing, he is my enemy, and I am his."
"His enemy? my Arthur's!"
"His mortal enemy. And I am going to England to clear an innocent man,and expose Arthur Wardlaw's guilt."
"Indeed," said Helen, with lofty contempt. "And pray what has he done toyou?"
"He had a benefactor, a friend; he entrapped him into cashing a note ofhand, which he must have known or suspected to be forged; then baselydeserted him at the trial, and blasted his friend's life forever."
"Arthur Wardlaw did that?"
"He did; and that very James Seaton was his victim."
Her delicate nostrils were expanded with wrath, and her eyes flashedfire. "Mr. Hazel, you are a liar and a slanderer."
The man gave a kind of shudder, as if cold steel had passed through hisheart. But his fortitude was great; he said doggedly, "Time will show.Time, and a jury of our countrymen."
"I will be his witness. I will say, this is the malice of a rival. Yes,sir, you forget that you have let out the motive of this wicked slander.You love me yourself; Heaven forgive me for profaning the name of love!"
"Heaven forgive you for blaspheming the purest, fondest love that everone creature laid at the feet of another. Yes, Helen Rolleston, I loveyou; and will save you from the grave and from the villain Wardlaw; bothfrom one and the other."
"Oh," said Helen, clinching her teeth, "I hope this is true; I hope you dolove me, you wretch; then I may find a way to punish you for belying theabsent, and stabbing me to the heart, through him."
Her throat swelled with a violent convulsion, and she could utter no morefor a moment; and she put her white handkerchief to her lips, and drew itaway discolored slightly with blood.
"Ah! you love me," she cried; "then know, for your comfort, that you haveshortened my short life a day or two, by slandering him to my face, youmonster. Look there at your love, and see what it has done for me."
She put the handkerchief under his eyes, with hate gleaming in her own.
Mr. Hazel turned ashy pale, and glared at it with horror; he could haveseen his own shed with stoical firmness; but a mortal sickness struck hisheart at the sight of her blood. His hands rose and quivered in apeculiar way, his sight left him, and the strong man, but tender lover,staggered, and fell heavily on the deck, in a dead swoon, and lay at herfeet pale and motionless.
She uttered a scream, and sailors came running.
They lifted him, with rough sympathy; and Helen Rolleston retired to hercabin, panting with agitation. But she had little or no pity for theslanderer. She read Arthur Wardlaw's letter again, kissed it, wept overit, reproached herself for not having loved the writer enough; and vowedto repair that fault. "Poor slandered Arthur," said she; "from this hourI will love you as devotedly as you love me."
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