At the Mercy of Tiberius

by Augusta J. Evans

  CHAPTER XXIX.

  Conveniently contiguous to the busy centre of a wide and populous city,situated on the shore of one of those great inland fresh-water seas,whose lake line girdles the primeval American upheaval, the Laurentianrocks,--stands in the middle of a square, enclosed by a stone copingand an iron railing, a stately pile of brick and granite severalstories high, flanked by wings that enclose in the rear a spaciouscourt. The facade was originally designed in the trabeated style, andstill retained its massive entrance, with straight, grooved lintel overthe door which was adorned by four round columns; but subsequentadditions reflected the fluctuations of popular architectural taste, inthe later arched windows, the broad oriel with its carved corbel, andin the new eastern wing, that had flowered into a Tudor tower withbulbous cupola. The strip of velvet sward between the street and thehouse entrance, was embossed with brilliant coleus set in the form ofanchors; and a raised border, running the entire length under thewindows of the basement, was ablaze with geraniums of various hues.

  On a granite pediment above the portico, a large bronze anchor wassupported, and beneath it was cut, in projecting letters: "The UmiltaAnchorage".

  In front of the building ran a broad, paved boulevard; in the rear, theenclosure was bounded by a stone wall, overgrown with ivy, and builtupon the verge of the blue lake, whose waves broke against the base,and rolled away in the distance beyond the northern horizon.

  Fully in accord with the liberal eclecticism that characterized itsexterior, was the wide-eyed, deep, tender-hearted charity which,ignoring all denominational barriers, opened its doors in cordialwelcome to worthy, homeless women, whom misfortune had swept away fromfamily moorings, and whose clean hands and pure hearts sought someavenue to honest work. The institution was a memorial erected andendowed by a wealthy man, whose only child Umilta, just crossing thethreshold of womanhood, had been lost in a sudden storm on the lake;whose fair, drowned face had been washed ashore just below the stonewall, and whose statue stood, guarded by marble angels, in the smallchapel in the centre of the building, which was designed as an enduringmonument to commemorate her untimely fate, and perpetuate her name.

  Divided into various industrial departments, the "Anchorage" wasmaintained almost entirely by the labor of its inmates; and it hadrarely been found necessary to draw from the reserve endowment fund,that was gradually accumulating for future contingencies.

  Trained nurses, trained housekeepers were furnished on demand; lacecurtains mended, laundered; dainty lingerie of every description, froma baby's wardrobe to a bride's trousseau; ornamental needle-work on allfabrics; artificial flowers, card engraving, artistic designs forupholstering, menus, type-writing, all readily supplied to customers;and certain confectionery put up in pretty boxes made by the inmates,and bearing the "Anchor" stamp. A school of drawing, etching, painting,and embroidery attracted many pupils; and a few pensioners who hadgrown too infirm and dim-eyed for active work, had a warm, bright roomwhere they knitted stockings and underwear of various kinds.

  At one end of the long refectory was emblazoned on the wall: "Forwhosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in Heaven, the sameis my brother and sister and mother." At the other: "Bear ye oneanother's burdens." The chapel contained no pulpit, but on a marblealtar stood a life-size figure of a woman clinging to the cross: and onthe walls hung paintings representing the Crucifixion, the Descent, theResurrection and the Mater Dolorosa; while in a niche at the extremity,behind the altar, an Ecce Homo of carved ivory was suspended above agilt cross, and just beneath it glittered the motto "Faith, Hope,Charity". Every morning and evening the band of women gathered here,and recited the Apostles' Creed, and the Lord's Prayer; but on Sabbaththe members attended the church best suited to their individual tenets.

  The infirmary was a cheerful, airy room, and here professional nurseswere trained under the guidance of visiting physicians; and in anadjoining kitchen were taught to prepare the articles of diet usuallybelonging to the regimen of sick rooms.

  Widows, maidens, Catholics, Protestants, admitted from the age ofeighteen to forty, these "Umilta Sisters" were received on probationfor eighteen months; then entered upon a term of five years, subject torenewal at will; bound by specified rules, but no irrevocable vow.Yielding implicit obedience to the matron, elected by themselves everyfour years--subject to approval and ratification by the Chapter ofTrustees, they were recognized wherever they went by the gray garb, thewhite aprons, and snowy mob caps peculiar to the institution.

  Fashionable women patronized and fondled the "Anchorage", for much thesame reason that led them to pamper their pugs; and since the Chapterof Trustees consisted of men of wealth and prominence, their wives, asmagnates in le beau monde, set the seal of "style" upon articlesmanufactured there, by ordering quilted satin afghans with anchors ofpansies embroidered in the centre, for their baby carriages; paintedtea gowns; favors for a "German", or fans and bonbonnieres for birthdayparties.

  If children of the Brahmin caste of millionairdom were seized by thePariah ills of measles, or chicken-pox, or mumps, it was deemed quiteas imperatively the duty of doting parents to provide an "Anchorage"nurse, as to secure an eminent physician, and the most costly brand ofcondensed milk. In the name of sweet charity, gay gauzy-wingedbutterflies of fashion harnessed themselves in ropes of roses, anddragged the car of benevolence; as painted papillons drew chariots ofgoddesses on ancient classic walls; so in the realm of social economythe ubiquitous law of correlation of industrial force--of conservationof energy--transmuted the arrested labor of the rich and idle into thefostering heat that stimulated the working poor.

  Scarcely a month previous to her unexpected release from prison, Berylhad received a letter from Doctor Grantlin, enclosing one addressed to"Sister Ruth, Matron of Anchorage". He wrote that his daughter's healthdemanded some German baths; and on the eve of sailing, he desired tosecure for the prisoner a temporary refuge, should the efforts which hehad heard were made to obtain her pardon, prove successful. As a nephewof the founder, and a cousin of the young lady for whom the "Anchorage"was intended as a lasting memorial, he had always been accorded certainprivileges by the trustees; and the letter, if presented to the matron,would insure at least an entrance into the haven of rest, until theprisoner could mature some plan for her future.

  Spurred away from X--by the dread of another interview with the manwhom she had assiduously shunned, and of being required to visit "ElmBluff" and scrutinize the accusing picture, Beryl had shrouded herselfin her heavy mourning, and fled from the scene of her suffering, on the3 A.M. train Sunday morning; ten hours after receiving the certificateof her discharge. Shrinking from observation, she refused Mr. Singletonpermission to accompany her to the station house, and bade him good-byethree squares distant; promising to write soon to his still absentwife, and assured by him that a farewell letter of affectionategratitude should be promptly delivered to Dyce. Fortunately a strangerstood in the office and sold her a ticket; and in the same corner,where twenty months before she had knelt during the storm, she waitedonce more for the sound of the train. How welcome to her the shudderingshriek that tore its way through the dewy silence of the star-litsummer night, and she hurried out, standing almost on the rails, in herimpatience to depart.

  Several travellers were grouped near a pile of luggage awaiting thetrain, but as it rolled swiftly in and jarred itself to a standstill,she saw even through her crape veil a well known figure, leaningagainst an iron post that held an electric lamp. She sprang up thesteps leading to the platform, and took the first vacant seat, whichwas in front of an open window.

  The silvery radiance from the globe just opposite, streamed in, and herheart seemed to cease beating as the tall form moved forward and takingoff his hat, stood at the side of the car. Neither spoke. But when thebrass bell rang its signal and the train trembled into motion, a handwas thrust in, and dropped upon her lap a cluster of exquisite whiteroses, with one scarlet passion flower glowing in the centre.

  During the three
days spent in New York, Beryl's wounds bled afresh,and she felt even more desolate than while sheltered behind prisonwalls. The six-storied tenement house where she had last seen hermother's face, and kissed her in final farewell, had been demolished tomake room for a new furniture warehouse. Strange nurses in the hospitalcould tell her nothing concerning the last hours of the beloved dead;and the only spot in the wide western world that seemed to belong toher, was a narrow strip of ground in a remote corner of the greatcemetery, where a green mound held its square granite slab, bearing thewords "Ellice Darrington Brentano."

  With her face bowed upon that stone, the lonely woman had wept away thelong hours of an afternoon that decided her plan for the future.

  Dr. Grantlin had gone abroad for an indefinite period, and no one knewthe contents of his last letter. In New York her movements would besubject to the SURVEILLANCE she most desired to escape; but in thatdistant city where the "Anchorage" was situated, she might disappear,leaving no more trace than that of a stone dropped in some stormy,surging sea.

  To find Bertie and reclaim him, was the only goal of hope life held forher, and to accomplish this, the first requisite was to effectuallylose herself.

  Anxious and protracted deliberation finally resulted in anadvertisement, which she carried next morning to the "Herald" office,to be inserted for six months in the personal column, unless answered.

  "BERTIE, IF YOU WANT THE LOST BUTTON WE BOUGHT AT LUCCA, WHEN CANGIGINA HAND IT TO YOU IN ST. CATHERINE'S, CANADA?"

  She wore her old blue bunting dress, and a faded blue veil when shedelivered the notice at the office of the newspaper, and paid inadvance the cost of its publication. Later in the same day, clad in hermourning garments, she went down to the Grand Central Depot and boughta railway ticket; and the night express bore her away on her longjourney westward.

  It was on the fourth of July, her twenty-first birthday, that sheentered the reception room at the "Anchorage", and presented inconjunction with Doctor Grantlin's letter, a copy of the newspaperprinted at X--, which contained an article descriptive of the discoveryof the picture on the glass door; and expressive of the profoundsympathy of the public for the prisoner so unjustly punished byincarceration.

  For twenty years a resident of the institution, over which she hadrepeatedly presided, Sister Ruth was now a woman of fifty-five, whosewhite hair shone beneath her cap border like a band of spun silver, andwhose yellowish, dim eyes seemed unnaturally large behind theirspectacles. Thin and wrinkled, her face was nobly redeemed by aremarkably beautiful, patient mouth; and her angular, wiry figure, bysmall feet and very slender hands, where the veins rose like blue cordslacing ivory satin. Over the shoulders of her gray flannel dress wasworn the distinctive badge of her office, a white mull handkerchiefpleated surplice fashion into her girdle, whence hung by a silver chaina set of tablets; and the folds of mull were fastened at her throat bya silver anchor.

  Having deliberately read letter and paper, she put the former in herpocket, and returned the latter with a stately yet graceful inclinationof the head, that would have been creditable in Mdm. Recamier's salon.

  "I have expected you for some weeks, an earlier letter from DoctorGrantlin having prepared me for your arrival; but it appears you havenot been released from prison by the pardon he anticipated?"

  "No, madam; the authorities who caused my arrest and imprisonment,considered the discovery of the printed door a complete refutation ofthe accusation against me, and ordered my release. I come here not as apardoned criminal, but as an unfortunate victim of circumstantialevidence; acquitted of all suspicion by a circumstance even strangerthan those which seemed to condemn me. In the darkest days of mydesolation, Doctor Grantlin believed me innocent, honored me with hisconfidence and friendship, soothed my mother's dying hour; and he willrejoice to learn that acquittal anticipated the mockery of a pardon.Only his generous encouragement emboldened me to hope for a temporaryshelter here."

  "Then you have no desire to become a permanent resident?"

  "At present, I shall be grateful if allowed to enjoy the privilege ofhiding my sore heart for a while from the gaze of a world that hascruelly wronged me. I want to rest where wicked men and women do notpollute the air, where I can try to forget the horrors of convict life;and the rest I need is not idleness, it is labor of some kind that willso fully employ my hands and brain, that when I lie down at night mysad, aching heart and wounded soul can find balm in sleep. Locked atnight into a dark cell has made existence for nearly eighteen months amere hideous vigil, broken by fitful nightmare. To see only pure faces,to listen to sweet feminine voices that never knew the desecration ofblasphemy, to exchange the grim, fetid precincts of a penitentiary fora holy haven such as this, is indeed a glimpse of paradise to atortured spirit."

  "Have you special reasons for wishing to shun observation?"

  The dim eyes probed like some dull blade that tears the tissues.

  "Yes, madam, special cause to want to be forgotten by the public, whohave stared me at times almost to frenzy."

  "You are an orphan, I am told; with no living relatives in America."

  "I am an orphan; and think I have no relative in the United States."

  "In the very peculiar circumstances that surround and isolate you, Ishould imagine you would esteem it a great privilege to cast your lothere, and become one of the permanently located Sisters of the'Anchorage'. Ours is a noble and consecrated mission."

  "Knowing literally nothing of your institution, except that it is ahive of industrious good women, offering a home and honest work tohomeless and innocent unfortunates, I could not pledge myself to a lifewhich might not prove suitable on closer acquaintance. Take me in; giveme employment that will prevent me from being a tax upon yourhospitality and mercifully shelter me from pitiless curiosity andgossip."

  "Even were our sympathies not enlisted in your behalf, DoctorGrantlin's request would insure your admission, at least for a season.Where is your luggage?"

  "I have only a trunk, for which I have retained the railway check,until I ascertained your willingness to receive me."

  "Give it to me."

  She crossed the room and pressed the knob of a bell on the oppositewall. Almost simultaneously a door opened, and to a stout, middle-agedwoman who appeared on the threshold, the matron gave instructions in anunder tone.

  Returning to the stranger, she resumed:

  "I infer from the Doctor's letter, that you are a gifted person. Inwhat lines do your talents run?"

  "Perhaps I should not lay claim to talent, but I am, by grace of study,a good musician; and I draw and paint, at least with facility. At onetime I supported my mother and myself by singing in a choir, butdiphtheria closed that avenue of work. With the restoration of health,I think I have recovered my voice. I am an expert needle woman, and canembroider well, especially on fine linen."

  "Do you feel competent to teach a class in 'water color', in our ArtSchool? Our aquarelle Sister is threatened with amaurosis, and theoculist prohibits all work at present."

  "You can form an opinion of my qualifications by examining somesketches which are in my trunk. I have furnished several designs forthe 'Society of Decorative Art', and have sold a number of paintedarticles at the Woman's Exchange."

  "Then I think you have only to step into a vacant niche, and supply aneed which was beginning to perplex us. During the latter part ofSeptember, an International Scientific Congress will be held in thiscity, and one of our patrons, Mr. Brompton, who expects to entertainthe distinguished foreign delegates, has given us an order for dinnercards for eight courses, and each set for twenty-four covers. As nearlyas we can comprehend the design, his intention is to represent theorder of creation in fish, game, fruits and flowers; and each card willillustrate some special era in geology and zoology. The cream and icesset are expected to show the history of Polar regions as far as known,and at the conclusion of the banquet, each guest will be presented witha velvet smoking cap, to which must be attached a card representing'scien
tific soap-bubbles pricked by the last scientists' junta'. Nowwhile the 'Anchorage's' cultured art standard claims to be as high asany, East, we should scarcely venture to fill this order, had not twoof the professors in our University, promised to map out the order, andfurnish some dots in the way of engravings, which will aid theaccomplishment of the work; and we are particularly desirous ofpleasing our patron, from whom the 'Anchorage' expects a bequest. Ifyou think you can successfully undertake a portion of this order, givenus by Mr. Brompton, we shall make you doubly welcome."

  "I think I may safely promise satisfactory work in the line youdesignate; and at least, I shall be grateful for the privilege ofmaking the attempt."

  "You are aware, I presume, that all inmates of the 'Anchorage' arerequired to wear its regulation uniform."

  "I shall be very glad to don it; hoping it may possess some spell toexorcise memories of the last uniform I wore; the blue homespun ofpenitentiary convicts."

  "You must try to forget all that. The 'Anchorage' gates shut fast onthe former lives we led; here we dwell in a busy present, hoping tosecure a blessed future. Come with me to the cutting room, and bemeasured for your flannel uniform; then one of the Sisters will showyou to your own cell in this consecrated bee-hive, which you will findas peaceful as its name implies."

  The first story contained the reception rooms, chapel, schoolroom,apartments for the display of sample articles manufactured; therefectory, kitchen and laundry; and one low wide room with glass onthree sides, where orchids and carnations, the floral specialties ofthe institution, were grown. On the second floor were variousworkrooms, supplied with materials required for the particular fabrictherein manufactured or ornamented; and cut off from communication, wasthe east wing, used exclusively as an infirmary, and provided with itsseparate kitchen and laundry. The third story embraced the dormitory, abroad, lofty apartment divided by carved scroll work and snowycurtains, into three sets of sleeves running the entire length of thefloor; separated by carpeted aisles, and containing all the articles offurniture needed by each occupant. On the ceiling directly over everybed, was inscribed in gilt letters, some text from the Bible, exhortingto patience, diligence, frugality, humility, gentleness, obedience,cheerfulness, honesty, truthfulness and purity; and mid-way the centralaisle, where a chandelier swung, two steps led to a raised desk, whenceat night issued the voice of the reader, who made audible to all theoccupants the selected chapter in the Bible. At ten o'clock a bell wasrung by the Sister upon whom devolved the duty of acting as nightwatch; then lights were extinguished save in the infirmary. This commondormitory was reserved for Sisters who had spent at least five years inthe building; and to probationers were given small rooms on the secondstory of the west wing.

  The third story of the same wing fronted north, and served as a studiowhere all designs were drawn and painted; and upon its walls hungpictures in oil and water color, engravings, vignettes, and all theartistic odds and ends given or lent by sympathetic patrons.

  Each story was supplied with bath-rooms, and the entire work of thevarious departments was performed by the appointed corps of inmates;the Sisters of the wash tub, and of the broom brigade, being selectedfor the work best adapted to their physical and intellectualdevelopment.

  Visitors lingered longest in the great kitchen with its arched recesswhere the range was fitted; where like organ pipes glittering copperboilers rose, and burnished copper measures and buckets glinted on thecarved shelves running along one side. The adjoining pastry room wastiled with stone, furnished with counters covered with marble slabs,and with refrigerators built into the wall; and here the white-capped,white-aproned priestesses of pots, pans and pestles moved quietly toand fro, performing the labor upon which depended in great degree theusefulness of artificers in all other departments.

  The refectory opened on a narrow terrace at the rear of the building,which was sodded with turf and starred with pansies and ox-eyeddaisies, and on the wide, stone window sills sat boxes and vases filledwith maiden-hair ferns and oxalis, with heliotrope and double whiteviolets. Three lines of tables ran down this bright pretty room, and inthe centre rose a spiral stair to a cushioned seat, where when "Grace"had been pronounced, the Reader for the day made selections from suchvolumes of prose or poetry as were deemed by the Matron elevating andpurifying in influence; tonic for the soul, stimulant for the brain,balm for the heart.

  Close to the rear wall overhanging the lake, ran a treillage of grapevines, and on the small grass sown plat of garden, belated paeoniestossed up their brilliant balls, as play-things for the wind that sweptover the blue waves, breaking into a fringe of foam beyond the stoneenclosure.

  Except at meals, and during the last half hour in the dormitory, nightand morning, no restriction of silence was imposed, and one hour wasset apart at noon for merely social intercourse, or any individualscheme of labor. Busy, tranquil, cheerful, often merry, they endeavoredto eschew evil thoughts; and cultivated that rare charity which makeseach tolerant of the failings of the other, which broadens a sympathythat can excuse individual differences of opinion, and that consecratesthe harmony of true home life.

  The room assigned to Beryl was at the extremity of the second story,just beneath the studio; and as the north end of the wings was built ateach corner into projections that were crowned with bell towers, thisapartment had a circular oriel window, swung like a basket from thewall, and guarded by an iron balcony. Cool, quiet, restful as anoratory seemed the nest; with its floor covered by matting diapered inblue, its low, wide bedstead of curled maple, with snowy Marseillesquilt, and crisply fluted pillow cases; its book shelves hanging on thewall, surmounted by a copy in oil of Angelico's Elizabeth of Hungary,with rapt face upraised as she lifted her rose-laden skirt.

  The lambrequins of blue canton flannel were bordered with trailingconvolvulus in pink cretonne, and the diaphanous folds of white muslincurtains held in the centre an embroidered anchor which dragged inward,as the breeze rushed in through open windows. An arched recess in thewall, whence a door communicated with the adjoining chamber, wasconcealed by a portiere of blue that matched the lambrequins, and thealcove served as a miniature dressing-room, where the brass faucetemptied into a marble basin.

  In this apartment the imperial sway of dull maroons, sullen Pompeiianreds, and sombre murky olives had never cast encroaching shadows uponthe dainty brightness of tender rose and blue, nor toned down thesilvery reflection of the great sea of waters that flashed under thesunshine like some vast shifting mirror.

  Travel-worn and very weary, Beryl sat down by the window and looked outover the lake, that far as the eye could reach, lifted its sparklingbosom to the cloudless dim blue of heaven, effacing the sky line;dotted with sails like huge white butterflies, etched here and therewith spectral, shadowy ship masts, overflown by gray gulls burnishedinto the likeness of Zophiels' pinions, as their wings swiftly dipped.

  Driven by storms of adversity away from the busy world of her earlieryouth, leaving the wrack of hopes behind, she had drifted on thechartless current of fate into this Umilta Sisterhood, this latter dayBeguinage; where, provided with work that would furnish her dailybread, she could hide her proud head without a sense of shame. DoctorGrantlin, in compliance with her request, would keep the secret of herretreat; and surely here she might escape forever the scrutiny and thedangerous magnetism of the man who had irretrievably marred her fair,ambitious youth.

  To-day, twenty-one, full statured in womanhood, prematurely scorchedand scarred in spirit by fierce ordeals, she saw the pale ghost of hergirlhood flitting away amid the ruins of the past; and knew thatinstead of making the voyage of life under silken sails gilded with thelight, and fanned by the breath of love and happiness, she had beenswept under black skies before a howling hurricane, into an unexpectedport,--where, lashed to the deck with "torn strips of hope", she hadfinally moored a strained, dismasted barque in the "Anchorage", whencewith swelling canvas and flying pennons no ships ever went forth.

  A rush of grateful tears f
illed her tired eyes, and soothed by theconsciousness of an inviolable security, her trembling lips moved in aprayer of thankfulness to God, upon whom she had stayed her torturedsoul, grappling it to the blessed promise: "Lo, I am with you always. Iwill never leave you nor forsake you."